Synopsis:
The wars of old against the tide-caller cultists have left Inquisitor Vorain crippled and forlorn. Over the decades of commanding the dark tower, he has found his life fading into obscurity. But that changes when a mysterious presence begins to interfere with his investigation in the shadows of the night.
Once feared, now forgotten, Vorain has long relinquished his yearnings for affection. But after seeing the gruesome handiwork of an unknown outsider, something warm begins to unexpectedly blossom in his heart once again.
Review:
I think with this novella Zareith has introduced me to a new genre – Grimantasy.
His work here is done.
With this book the author engrossed me in the bitter world of the Inquisitor, forever seeking answers from those he must torture in a grim circle of pain and denial. This is no picture that is painted with black prose, for a picture does not have you tasting the brackish air, nor crunching the salt-encrusted quays as Zareith does here. Immersion is not painted, but built, line by line, as you feel every ache and pain, every bitter word or slice of the inquisitor’s blade. Zareith has excelled here, and I stand and applaud how he has built this world.
But a story does not stand by its backdrop, and to hold such a bitter place together requires a character of depth. You feel Vorain’s emotional turmoil as the story unfolds, the ageing body, the sacrifices made and the utter contempt in the eyes of those he is loyal to. As the twists and turns play out, he is drawn deeper into his own past, while staring at his failure to secure the kingdom’s future. Layer by layer, page by page, I was drawn in, and as we are introduced to the eldritch gods of the deep, their worshippers and idols, Zareith begins to play on the Lovecraftian themes he so loves. But this is not a tired redrawing but a celebration of the dark places drip by brackish drip of rime-ridden pools of turmoil and lost love.
Others have mentioned the ending, and for me it works perfectly.
To say I enjoyed this book is an understatement. No notes. Read it.
Grimantasy. Oh yes.
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