What I can I say about this book but that it ripped my freaking heart out over and over and over again, then ground it into a bed of coals with an iron boot heel and poured acid over it? And that it was also so much fun to write, too, coming up with fun things to do with magic when the characters want to play rather than do things like save the world…
“HoM is a blast of magic, love, deceit and heartbreak… This book was a rollercoaster of emotions. I would go from laughing out loud like an idiot to on the verge of tears.” Aprille Legacy, Goodreads
“As I approached the end, I was getting nauseous, even had bad dreams about it, and it became truly difficult to persuade myself to read the final chapters, knowing that there was at least one scenario, and possibly two, which may well have resulted in me huddled under my desk, hugging my knees among dust bunnies and maybe a few bugs, completely broken. … I don’t usually get particularly invested in individual characters. I can sort of like some, not stand others, prefer some things, get somewhat angry over others, but in the grand scheme of things they’re not real and even if they’d be I don’t know them; it’s the battles with the fate of the world on the table that get to me. But here it was just the “fate of the world” part that I sort of shrugged at, while the characters… They’re not real and I don’t know them? Well, tell that to whatever it is inside me that sure made it feel that they are, and I do, and they’re important and we’re close and whatever happens to them reaches inside and tears me apart or puts me back together just as well. Which makes this one of the best written and, well, simply best books I’ve ever read… And at the same time something I just can’t deal with, now or ever, as it tore away at what frayed bits of sanity and control I had left, trampled all over them and ran away with whatever pieces remained.” Robert Negut, Goodreads
In the city of mages, a guild slave dances, magical stars drifting from her hair that whisper secret persuasions into the minds of those watching. Every evening she writes down her memories before a shadow in the night takes them. This is where the division begins.
For centuries, the walls of the Seven Demesnes have protected men from weirs and shadow-hungry alike. But those eager for the walls to come down are ready to strike, and those who must defend them stand divided. Guild plots against ruler. Mage plots against mage. The powerful vanish. The weak are enslaved. The survivors keep secrets.
When a mage is murdered, blame is thrown – on the wrong person. Lines are drawn – in the wrong places. Unions are made – with the wrong allies.
And when the enemy strikes, not one is prepared.