Emma's Reviews > The Ruin of Kings

Kihrin is many things: orphan, thief, long lost son of a prince... destroyer of the world? Whatever else he is, he’s also having a really bad time of it. Everything he’s ever believed is lies, truths only discovered though violence and death. But since his new life involves evil magicians, a death cult, a war between gods and demons, the kind of family that epitomises the whole keep-your-enemies-closer philosophy, and dragons…. well, his chances don’t seem like they’ll be looking up any time soon. After all, he’s in prison when we meet him.

Right from the outset it’s clear this book isn’t set up in the usual fashion. Kihrin languishes in a jail cell, bullied by his captor into narrating the events that led him to this point. Into a magic rock no less. His tale is told in alternating chapters, while his jailer, Talon, accounts for the other. But here’s the hook, she has some very particular skills that means the story she’s telling is also his, adding parts of the plot not only on a different timeline, but from varied perspectives too. If that isn’t complicated enough, the resulting recoding (magical rock, remember?) from which this book is supposedly drawn is then provided with somewhat snarky commentary in footnote style from a whole other character who is also involved in the story at various points. It’s an interesting premise, but one that nevertheless has its own challenges. When it works it creates an escalating tension as the chapters flip, each one ending on a cliffhanger, so that it’s impossible to put the book down. The chapters are short, high energy, and thrilling.

But that’s when it works. The dual storyline of Kihrin in first person and then in third from differing perspectives sometimes created a strange dissonance, almost like it was two different people, and not just because of the character development acquired in one half or the other. There’s a constant need to remember which Kihrin knows what and when he learned it, especially because the overarching plot is seriously convoluted. Not only is there high stakes politics, ethnic and religious wars, and familial infighting on an epic scale, there’s bodyswapping. So people might not be who you think they are. Or were. Or whatever. To say it brings about some dodgy familial connections is a bit of an understatement. When the format fails, bogged down in detail and unnecessary complication, things end up needing to be explained a bit too much by one person or another, making it feel unnatural. Even if, because of the complexity, they probably really do need to work through it themselves. This happens a bit too much at the beginning and then again with the finale, which felt rushed and threw in some curve balls to conform to the prophesies that supposedly underly the action.

So at this point you might be wondering how it got 4 stars at all? Let me go back to the whole ‘when it works’ thing I was talking about before. Parts of this book are blindingly good. As in, 5-stars-are-not-enough kinda great. Pretty much all the middle in fact. If you’re one of the people that read the preview, it starts right at the end of that and lasts all the way till the stories converge in the final segment. This is where Jenn Lyons’ creativity shines. From beginning to end, the worldbuilding is excellent, layered and intricate, developed by an author who knows everything about the place she’s created. It’s never less than believable, from the systems of government to history, cultural norms and values to religion and magic. There’s diversity of all sorts, including both underlying and overt dialogue about sexual identity/choice that surprised and pleased me. Of course, it’s not all hearts and rainbows, variation brings hostility and this is a dangerous world. All of the abhorrent aspects of human society are here: slavery, racial wars, rape, incest, murder, human sacrifice. People have dark stories and even darker motivations. Even our lead has a real attitude, though considering his circumstances I can understand where he’s coming from, and in any case it’s done with comedy rather than angst. It’s not just him either. The book had the same kind of humorous banter and point scoring backchat that reminded me much more of UF. The exchanges between Kihrin and Teraeth were exceptional, transforming from genuinely funny to moving and emotional and back again with ease. Such humour provided a very necessary lightness in pretty dire circumstances and gave Kihrin the kind of appeal accorded to those who respond to the shit shovelled in their direction with two fingers and a smile. Yet he’s only one of a whole cast of memorable characters, so well conceived and vibrantly portrayed that they carry the book even when the plot loses itself a bit. Most of the true character development came predominantly in that middle section and was by far the best part of the book, managing to maintain momentum whilst deepening the relationships between characters and expanding our knowledge of the world. I raced though it, loving every minute. There were questions answered and even more asked, a labyrinthine game that has been played for thousands of years. And even though the ending didn't hold quite the same thrill, it brought enough surprises, enough possibilities, to whet the appetite for more.

Despite my quibbles, I’m intrigued about where this will go. The dual storyline format doesn’t seem to be one that can be successfully repeated, potentially giving the next book an entirely different feel. Certainly, the final scenes include some you-can’t-do-that moments that I can’t wait to see explored. If you thought things were going to hell here, the future seems like it’s already on fire…. and I'll be there to see it burn.


ARC via publisher for fantasybookreview.co.uk