A century in the shadowlands of the Duskhold is a grueling sentence. A woman there has forgotten her birth name and also can’t recall what transgression begat this punishment—just that she, a human, had fallen in love with a Fae. She’s finally so distraught that she walks into the Whispering Sea, convinced that a fatal drowning is her only chance at reprieve. Instead of dying, she’s somehow “remade,” and, amazingly, she travels to another realm altogether. There, a couple shows her kindness and gives her the name Lyra. But she wastes little time before heading east to the Fae realm, where she’s certain her lost love resides, and she auditions to be a performer at the Amber Palace. Lyra can manipulate shadows and can even turn them into forceful energy, courtesy of “lingering traces of Fae enchantment” in the Whispering Sea. She passes herself off as a mere illusionist, however, and quickly befriends Lysara, the court historian. But it’s the prince who truly captures Lyra’s attention—and she captures his as well. Is he the Fae whom she loved so long ago? She’ll have to be cautious if she wants answers, or a chance at rekindling the romance, because Prince Torian is currently betrothed. And, as Lyra soon discovers, something is hunting her—a daunting presence that may have the inclination and the power to pull her right back into the shadowlands.
Gregorsdóttir’s tale, which kicks off a prospective series, boasts a consistently compelling protagonist. She begins as a tortured soul with a curiously murky past before she bravely travels to an unknown (or possibly forgotten) destination despite the danger involved. As the story continues, readers learn much more about Lyra, including details about her family. The supporting cast also shines, including Lysara and the seemingly conflicted Torian, as well as Tomas and Elidra, who “monitor crossings between realms.” There’s a pleasing variety among the characters, including smaller winged faeries, an antlered forest spirit, and nods to the godly Four Pillars. (Lyra apparently resembles most Fae, although references to her distinguishing human feature of “curved ears” are abundant.) Lyra’s journey in this first installment effectively fuses genre elements of romance and suspense. She longs for what she once had, and she does, on occasion, find herself in intimate situations—including a few moments that outright sizzle. At the same time, she perpetually fears that someone from the court might recognize her Fae magic, or that the aforementioned ominous presence will make itself known to her. Gregorsdóttir’s prose is pleasingly poetic, whether describing scenes of love or magic-wielding: “I opened my hand again, skin still stinging. Red crescents bit into my flesh, encircling tiny scorches, perfect black pinpricks edged in feverish pink. The stars had left their mark before dying, branding me with their last betrayed sigh.” A twist of fate near the end will most certainly leave some readers shaken—and hoping for a sequel.