Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Dec. 3, 2019) by Tomi Adeyemi.
*This is the middle novel in a trilogy.*
*SPOILERS from the dust jacket are
included.*
Magic has
returned to Orïsha with staggering results, but it’s at great cost to Zélie
Adebola and Amari Olúborí. It isn’t only maji whose powers have awakened. Too
many nobles and royals who were thought to be entirely kosidán (without magic) have turned out to have maji ancestry and
are now called tîtáns. The tîtáns’
abilities are not bound by the need for incantations, as are necessary for the
maji, thus creating a group that is unnervingly powerful and dangerously
volatile. With Queen Nehanda (Amari’s mother) at the helm and with abilities
that should not be remotely possible, peace will not happen, and Amari will not
ascend Orïsha’s throne. All Amari wants is peace for her nation and for all the
people to live together peaceably: maji, tîtáns and kosidán. But the Iyika, a band of rebel maji determined
to eradicate all the royals and any tîtáns, have zero interest in Amari’s
plans. They’d rather kill her where she stands, no matter that she arrives with
Zélie, their proclaimed Soldier of Death, and Zélie’s brother/Amari’s love
interest, Tzain. The Iyika want Zélie on the throne, though she has no interest
for the title or responsibility. It is more than enough to become an Elder of
the Ikú (or Reaper) Clan. What Zélie does want is to wreak vengeance upon
someone she thought was dead and who caused her to lose someone she loved
dearly. Her odium is so strong that it may rip a rift straight through her
relationship with Amari, already tenuous since the white streak showed in
Amari’s hair (marking her as a tîtán). Can the two bring the kingdom together
or will they find themselves on opposite sides of a civil war?
The intensity of this middle
installment is vivid and relentless and to move slowly will surely get you
trampled by a pride (is it a pride?) of lionaires.
The story continues its track of extolling peace and concord while
demonstrating the senselessness and, often, utter devastation of hate and
vengeance. It moves quickly, but I won’t say it moves effortlessly. I hear that
middle novels in trilogies are the worst to write, and I don’t think Adeyemi
totally avoided that “syndrome.” Zélie’s vitriol is fueled by the loss of a
loved one, for sure, but it’s also inflamed by love twisted. She’s a kid with
the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders, and that’s the problem. She and Amari
both act like kids instead of the young adults they should be growing up to be.
Fortunately, the story remains complex and the world-building impressive. I’m
looking toward a finale as vibrant as the first installment. I can overlook
when the main protagonists frustrate me, because my interest is in the fate of
Orïsha.
I think the two main characters in this novel would annoy me at times. They need to come together and figure out what their priorities are despite past occurrences or what type of lineage they come from. Let's hope maturity finds them in the third installment!
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