Anna Smith-Spark, the queen of grim-dark is back at it again, with this viscerally ambitious follow-up to the dark salvo, Court of Broken Knives (that I enjoyed, ah so much!) that introduced us to the Empires of Dust and a motley crew of dark, broken damaged characters headed by Marith Altrersyr, King Ruin and his queen, Thalia. Book One was a study in violence and darkness but one that shone bright with the raw beauty of Anna's writing that was punchy, moving and just so immersive in it's unpredictable quality to enthral and shock.

This one, Book Two was an emotional drain on my senses. In a good way, really. An overload of vicious no-holds-barred violence underlined by a disturbing brooding sense of darkness - Book Two in the Empires of Dust, Tower of Living and Dying is still full of those very same unforgettable characters who made book-one such a pleasure to read. They still worm and storm their way into your hearts, squirm under your skin and truly truly go through an evolutionary turmoil like no other. The writing is raw and visceral and shining with an ethereal beauty compelling you to stick with it as the world gets destroyed by the mad ambitions of this one man and his twisted sick dreams.

King Ruin and his Queen are painting the world red - Literally, a sea of blood of his fallen foes, Gods, foul features and humans alike, taints the unplumbed depths of his world-dominating ambitions as they set out to the Tower of Living and Dying, to honour his ancestor, the Mad God Amrath. On the other side of the world, in the decadent heart of the golden empire, the City of Sorlost is in the state of a upheaval like never before, consequences of the chain of events that the ambitious Lord Orhan had plotted, leaving him and his friends/family to suffer the hideous consequences of ambition unchecked and half-baked plots that went sideways.

Initially the alternating POV's of both Marith and Thalia is fascinating as we discover that both of them simultaneously loathe and revel in this bizarre turn of events that have made Marith, the reincarnation of a mad God with blood-lust roaring in his head and madness flowing in his veins. Thalia, previously the meek obedient High Priestess to God Tanis with the power to choose who dies and lives by her hand, comes into her own in this book. She still is questioning her decisions to stick with Marith. But her character arc is brilliant and I am loving the person she is growing into. And yet, she struggles every night with the same question of how could she let someone as vile and twisted as Marith, live? But his beauty and madness draws her in, consuming her and everyone around them - an army of mad supplicants chanting his name and desiring nothing but death!death!death trampling across the Kingdom of White Isles ringing in death and destruction for everyone in the way.

The gruesome war scenes are not for the faint-hearted. The battles are long drawn and being inside Marith's head is like being roasted alive in a hot forge. Marith is the catalyst, pushing the whole world down the slippery slope into a roaring burning forge here. There is a raw anger in Anna's writing as she conveys the misguided thoughts of the man or the symbol that Marith has turned inadvertently into. But personally for me, Thalia's POV is the more poignant, the more interesting one. Drenched with guilt, chained by the irrepressible charm of the God King, Thalia struggles with her own torn loyalties. To save the world or to save him and thus maybe, herself?

The political backstabbing and the wheels of conspiracies within the Capital Sorlost continue on - and we are treated to this tumultuous set of events that see the city of Sorlost get thrown into chaos through the eyes of Orhan, the man responsible for perhaps some of these. He got my sympathy - a man who becomes a mere pawn in the larger set of wheels grinding away. His chapters were a relief from the constant, on-the-edge battle-scenes that Marith/Thalia's POV dragged the reader into.

Tobias , the mercenary captain returns, although I thought his POV was the weakest one here. There are a few other characters, including Landra - the girl whose family was destroyed by Marith and the mysterious Raeta looking for revenge against Marith. Then there is Nilesh, the servant maid in Orhan's household back in Sorlost who is witness to the unraveling of the conspiracies within the city.

There is phenomenal world building in this book as we travel across the White Isles. On the other side of the continent, the golden city of Sorlost with its amazing cultural quirks that Anna beautifully paints up in book one, is still intriguing. Anna still writes about a few newer aspects about this decadent city making you gasp in wonder or sit up in shock as you get through book two. There is no "bridge-building" here, no book-two lag phenomenon. Anna has taken all that made book one such a brilliant debut and then thrown in a few more elements of absolute brilliance, blended all that into a violent unapologetic mad mixture building this phenomenal book and the series into something truly spectacular and worth waiting.

There are gods, dragons, half-gods, shadow-creatures, mad men, god-kings and queens of power. There is lust, ambition, intrigue, conspiracy, intrigue, politics and death! death! death! This is a wonderful addition to the series showing us the potential of what Anna is capable of. We are headed for an absolutely dangerous cliff-top from where there is no looking back now. Plunging down into this mad dangerous destiny in store for Marith and gang.

Being the second book in the Empires of Dust series I don't want to give away any major plot points.
Full of action and political intrigue this is shaping up to be a brilliant adult fantasy series.
Violent, bloody and brutal yet written in such a poetic and lyrical way, it is a brilliant book to get completely emersed in.

Following on nearly immediately from the first book in the series it is clear that this book is a set up for what looks to be an epic final book in the series.
This was a brilliant instalment in the series and I can't wait to see what the final book will bring.

Thankyou to NetGalley, HarperCollins UK, HarperFicton, HarperVoyager and the author, Anna Smith Spark, for the opportunity to read a digital copy of The Tower of Living and Dying in exchange for an honest and unbiased opinion.
This book is the second installment of the Empire Of Dust series. I really enjoyed The Court of Broken Knives, so I was very excited to read this book. I certainly was not disappointed. The storyline was well thought out and written with very engaging characters. I cannot wait for more from this author.
Definitely well worth a read for fans of the genre.

Very grim, and very dark.

** spoiler alert **
The prose is very poetic. But it did get a bit tiresome--the author repeats phrases for effect, but she does it too often sometimes. People chanting "death death" over and over sort of desensitizes you to the word after a while...but perhaps that was the point? Either way, it felt lazy to be honest.

Tobias's chapters were a delight as always. His voice is so interesting. Mareth was scary, mostly because he is so unstable. And then you have the Solost people--the events occuring there are interesting, but seemingly irrelevant to the rest of the plot. I would have preferred it if the Solost storyline connected in some way with the main story. As is, it felt like I read two different books at once.

Overall, a lot of the novelity of the first book as worn off, but this was still a fun read. If dark, gritty fantasy where everyone dies in gruesome ways is your definition of "fun".

The author has an incredible ability to write beautiful and lyrical prose and then suddenly shock you with what can only be described as brutal episodes of death and carnage. The reader is carried along with the descriptions of the beauty of the landscapes, soaring citadels and people celebrating then slammed into the centre of bloodshed, death and destruction.
The narrative steers you along following the exploits of Marith and Thalia both of which have formed an attachment which can be described as a love hate relationship.. Both are beautiful and powerful but they are also damaged and flawed which is a dangerous explosive combination. Other characters also appear that were encountered in The Court of Broken knives .Their encounters with Marith not withstanding most of these characters have other problems mounting up giving an extra dimension to the plot line. As diverse and complex as some of these characters are it all flows together seamlessly.
This is definitely not for the faint hearted, brutal but compulsive reading. Bring on the next book.

The Tower of Living and Dying. Lets start with this: It is not kidding around. It. Is. Not. Kidding. Around.

This is a story which delves into the darkness which sits at the heart of humanity. It explores the way human nature intermingles atrocities and violence with the capacity for love and joy, even in (perhaps especially within) those who might be seen elsewhere as monsters. In fact the existence of monsters feels a little outside the strokes the story is painting in. I’ll see about unpacking that later. For now, know this. There’s outright slaughter here, the obliteration of towns and cities, wrapped aroundan exploration of a corrosive and nihilistic philosophy. There’s scads of political expediency.

There’s some genuinely epic magic, the sort that makes you go back over a page to understand the consequences. There’s a knowledge of and a need to investigate the love of destruction and violence, and the struggle for creation to survive in the face of the destruction of entropy. This is a book which wants to tell you about people – and people are, broadly speaking, pretty messed up. They’re happy to slash and burn and torture and kill, given a cause and a figurehead and permission. They’ll wrap themselves in the cloak of ideals to bring themselves to power on a tower of skulls. And if they don’t, if they won’t, then they’ll be eliminated by those who do.

This is a bleak view. It’s one which deserves a soundtrack filled with a lashing guitar riff and some serious bass, whilst the lights dim and something, let’s not ask what, flies its mammoth carcass over the audience.

This is a story, absolutely. It’s about a rise to power, about a couple deciding who and what they are. It’s about a decaying empire, and the measures necessary to protect and preserve it. It’s about an imagined past, about constructing a truth which justifies your actions. It’s about starting a campaign of world-wide conquest in blood and fire. About bathing in the blood of your enemies and enjoying it. It’s about relationships, and the compromises you’re willing to make to be with the ones you love, and to build a life you can feel is your own. There’s a lot going on here. A world-changing, world-spanning plot, shaking the status quo to its foundations. Some absolutely fantastic characterisation, giving us complicated, broken, confused people, who are simultaneously trying their best and also absolutely awful. And a tapestry behind them, a world shaped by a deeply embedded past, current events wrought in the spilled blood of their ancestors terrible mistakes.

This is a book with a Big Mood, is what I’m saying.

It’s unabashedly complex. There’s a story here, of conquest and betrayal, and that would’ve been enough to keep me turning the pages, that’s a fact. But sliding underneath the lyrical, wine-dark prose, the language which is so smooth and so sharp that it’s in and out like a stiletto, is everything else.

The characters that started shaping the world are still with us. Marith…ah, poor, broken Marith. A young man who always knew what he was capable of, if he allowed it, has now run off the leash. Anchored by his affections, and by necessity, he’s reaching out to protect himself and those close to him. In doing that, he’s also trying to become a king. There’s a sense of escalation here – as every step he takes binds him tighter to a path of conquest. Marith wants to be seen, to be recognised and loved, and feels the need for that love keenly, and often selfishly. That feeling lives on the edge of more complex turmoil – about his relationship with his father, with a stepmother he’s reduced to an archetype of betrayal, about the unreliable narratives of which he’s constructed his life. Marith needs and wants and reaches out and takes – but he’s self-aware enough to recognise the needs which drive home, and which also drive him toward self-destruction. That doesn’t mean he pushes them away. Not always, maybe even not often. There’s a part of Marith which glorifies in destruction, his death-urge sublimated into laying waste to those around him. That part is twisted around the other, which wants to keep those around him safe, wants their love and their need for him to be as great as his for them. Inevitably he’s disappointed, and the undercurrents of emotional betrayal lace their way through his non-delusions of adequacy. Marith is emotionally warped, and struggling to be true, to be himself – or, perhaps, not to be himself. Whatever he is though, it has potential – for wonder, horror, or more typically, wondrous horror. Marith isn’t a nice man, but he’s incredibly emotionally affecting, and a genuinely compelling protagonist.

In his circle of desperate attempts to feel alive, to feel life and love and humanity, and to destroy everything which gives him those feelings before he’s betrayed, he’s ably assisted, if that’s the word, by Thalia. Thalia was the high priestes of a decaying empire once, a woman who made a living of sorts living in a compound, never able to leave, sacrificing men, women and children daily for the glory of her god. Thalia isn’t an especially nice person either. That said, she carries her scars differently than Marith. With more dignity, perhaps. Though her vulnerability is just as clear, seething under the surfaces as she finds herself tied to a man she loves but is often horrified by. Still, she’s nobody’s fool or pet, Thalia. Kindness in the immediate sense she has, but her own past an own her as much as Marith’s – perhaps more so, as she seems to have a firmer idea o what it is.
They’re the power-couple of tyranny. Broken, tortured souls, doing some good and a lot of terrible, terrible things in service to their own goals – and they’re grand goals, to be sure. Rebuilding the past. Living a secure, bountiful live of love and harmony. But somehow they seem to involve rather a lot of blood.

Then there’s our man in Sorlost, the sclerotic squirt of a city which is all that remains of a once-great Empire. The emotional complexity here actually made me gasp more than once; an arranged political marriage and a preference for other men are the undercurrents to a complicated personal life. But that life, the love for more than one person, in different ways, is nuanced, thoughtful, one which is explored with care. It’s laced through a lot of cutting edge politics (and the appearance of knives in Sorlost’s politics means that this isn’t entirely metaphorical). A lot of people end up dead when someone’s trying to make a better world. If Marith’s nihilism does that through violence, through the adrenaline and semi-sexual surges of destruction and mayhem, this quieter death, building alliances and dynasties through reputation-shredding and assassination is a difference of kind, rather than type. The issue here is that despite the best motives in the world, death follows. Is Martih more honest? Perhaps. Does the goal matter more or less than the result? These aren’t quite questions at the forefront of the mind, between death-squads and marauding armies, but they’re questions the text asks, nonetheless. It’s there to say, who are our protagonists. Are they heroes? When things get messy, when things aren’t simple, when you can’t fix what you’ve broken, what happens next? These aren’t heroes, exactly – they’re people trying to do their best in the world around them, and their lives and loves and thoughts and feelings are as vital as that of the reader, in their complexity, in their emphasis on shades of grey, even in their embrace of occasional absolutes.
Reading through, these are complicated, awkward people, and if they’re not people you’d want to spend any time with, they’re still delightfully, appallingly human.

The plot? Look, I’m not going to spoil that for you. But there’s a lot going on in between the pages. Armies on the march. Ancient magics revealed. Some charmingly byzantine political maoeuvering. Crosses. Double crosses. Triple-crosses. Basically all the betrayal you can swallow, really. I’m surprised anyone shakes hands in this book without checking to make sure they get more than a stump back. There’s life and love out there too, and exploring of different lands, some damned and broken, others less so. This is the book that throws open the horror and wonder that encapsulated the world, and shows what’s out there to explore. Admittedly, that exploration is often done at the point of a blade. This book is a long, complicated refrain filled with power chords. It wants you to feel, feel the intensity, feel the love, feel the death, feel the anger. It wants to talk about the eroticism of male violence, the way it’s subsumed into a society which ties up killing with release and a social death wish. It wants to talk about life, and the way stability and arrogance lead to calcification, and that breaking out of that sort of stasis may or may not end up being a good thing. It explores systems and the way they work, but it does so through the agency of its characters – thoughtful, appalling people who live and laugh and love and occasionally find joy in torture and massacre.

In the end, this is a breath-taking. It has amazing scope, and sets out to explore that narrative space with the reader in an intelligent, thoughtful and uncompromising way. It does that, lets you get udner the skin of people and society, and ask some large, interesting questions – and also tells an absolutely storming story, filled with magic, mayhem, conquest, politics and romance.

It’s great, is what I’m saying. If you’re wondering if this is the sequel you wanted after The Court of Broken Knives…yes, yes it is. Should you read it? Yes, yes you should.

'The Tower of Living and Dying' is the sequel to 'The Court of Broken Knives', and the second book in the fantastic 'Empires of Dust' series from grimdark and epic fantasy loving Anna Smith-Spark. Let's get this out of the way first - it is imperative that you read 'The Court of Broken Knives' before embarking on this one, as this book is heavily based on the happenings of the first novel.

Smith-Sparks prose is absolutely exquisite, it flows beautifully, and it doesn't surprise me at all that the author has written poetry in the past. There is a lyrical quality to it, and despite all of the books I get to read, I have not encountered work quite like this before. The action ramps up considerably from the first book, with a ratcheting up of the tension as the story progresses. Smith-Spark uses the title 'Queen of Grimdark' on Twitter which in my mind she has truly earned. These are some of the most underrated and undiscovered books in the fantasy genre, more people need to read this brilliant series, but one word of caution - if you don't like brutal, bloody and dark violent scenes then this is definitely not for you. I literally cannot wait for her to publish more of her work!

Many thanks to HarperVoyager for an ARC. I was not required to post a review, and all thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.

The follow-up to the epic Court of Broken Knives seamlessly the story.
This time the focus of the action stays in the same place for large chunks of the book (7 parts I think), rather than chapters jumping around from one to another. This allowed a slightly greater focus on the plot than in the first book, but the difficulty with that is keeping the momentum on both parallel stories. This wasn't an issue here, as the narrative flows so smoothly that even when the PoV is a character you care less about, the writing is still a joy to read.
Most of the action follows "King" Marith's plight to rule over all of Irlast's kingdoms, using all the evil creatures and tricks he has to hand, regardless of the cost in human lives. Here the story is told by splitting between Tobias, Landra, Marith and Thalia's points of view, so you get a real feel for what is going on and the impacts of events.
The rest of the book stays in Sorlost, the capital of the Empire, still reeling from the assassination attempt and with political intrigue aplenty. These were my less favourite parts of the book but were still enjoyable, compelling and vital. Again, the PoV is split between characters in these sections, giving more of a feel of the general populace than was present in the first book.
Again Smith Spark's lyrical narrative takes centre stage here, but at no point does it detract from the story and somehow acts to accentuate the grittiness of the action unfolding and adds so much emotion.
For me, this book took the grimdark quotient up several notches from the first instalment, as chapter after chapter sees bad things done by utter shit-bags, and they get away with it.
Characters develop aplenty here, Thalia starts to wake up to the reality of what she has married into and while torn about doing the right thing, seems resigned to her fate. Marith becomes the anti-Rand al'Thor as he tries to do everything himself and explores his powers, but he has a great time doing it. Finally we see great powerful war leaders celebrating the successful campaign by getting absolutely shit-faced and high and spewing everywhere (rather than sulky debriefs and mourning the loss of life). Tobias, so clever, cunning and powerful in the first book, here takes a back seat and almost becomes comic relief - his attempts to end Marith's tyrannical reign just go so badly. And everything is starting to go wrong for Orhan, the Lord of Sorlost, who looked to have manoeuvred himself into real power in the city.
A real page-turner and frankly an awesome story told exceptionally well.

https://lynns-books.com/2018/08/09/the-tower-of-living-and-dying-empires-of-dust-2-by-anna-smith-spark/
Having just finished The Tower of Living and Dying by Anna Smith Spark I can say with absolute confidence that not only was this a fantastic sequel to an impressive debut but it’s a definite contender for one of my best reads of the year so far. While the Court of Broken Knives delivered an unexpected novel in terms of the author’s own unique brand of writing, the Tower of Living and Dying cemented for me the love for that particular style. If the final episode delivers a worthy conclusion to the Empires of Dust then I truly believe this series could become a modern classic. Seriously, if you love to read fantasy, and in particular grimdark fantasy, then you really need to read these books – I insist. Please, even.

Before I go further, first things first. You will need to read book one in the series. My review is here. Also, it is possible, although I do try to avoid them, that some spoilers may be lurking here for the first book. You’ve been warned.

So, I’m literally sat, staring into the abyss (aka computer screen), just trying to figure out what to tell you. I do find that sometimes the books I love are the most difficult to review.

Okay. The writing first and foremost. It’s different than anything I’ve experienced before and I admit that in the first book, for the first few chapters, I found it a little difficult to get along with. Probably because it’s so unlike anything that I’ve read before. There’s a simplicity here, a curtailing of long sentences combined with an alchemy of words that makes this a beautifully told story. The imagery is just startling and sometimes breathtaking. I wish that I’d slowed my own reading pace and thought to make more notes so that I could share some quotes but as with all my favourite books I was gripped in a reading fervour and all rational or sensible thoughts were dashed on the altar of good intentions. There’s something about the writing that feels almost like a stream of consciousness or almost like a person babbling excitedly and there’s something infectious about it that simply draws you in, it’s just packed with emotion. And, it’s like a gingerbread house, it will tempt you in with the promise of sweets and cake and once you’ve entered inside the trap is sprung and the honeyed words will belie the bloodshed and war that you find yourself reading about.

The characters. Well, the four main characters from the first book are all still present. They’re a little bit more weary which isn’t a surprise given the amount of death and destruction they’ve seen but they all have a purpose. What I loved about these characters this time is they’re all so conflicted. Marith is in serious danger of losing himself completely. His relationship with Thalia is the only thing that keeps his inner demons from completely dominating. He kills and destroys wantonly but then frets enough to seek the bottom of a bottle or worse. Thalia, well she feels like a ray of light, a little spot of hope and yet at the same time she is also twisted with doubt and not a little bit of guilt. She knows Marith and sees what he is capable of, she feels like he must be stopped, but at the same time he’s shown her a different life to the one she expected. The other two characters are no less riddled by doubts and uncertainties.

In terms of the world building. We certainly see a lot more of the world in this instalment. A lot of it is of course in the throes of destruction as Marith marches relentlessly forward with his army but nonetheless this area of the story felt much stronger. This is a ruthless and unforgiving world in which to live but if Marith succeeds in dominating it the consequences don’t bear thinking about. God like creatures roam the land and soaring dragons rule the skies. A world of magic and myth.

I’m not really going to discuss the plot because I don’t want to give anything away. I will say that these four storylines all develop into tantalising threads – all highly readable in their own rights and all bursting with the expectation of so much more yet to come.

But, a word of caution, make no mistake about it this book is grim and bloody and if that doesn’t work for you then no amount of poetic prose will glamour what’s really taking place here. For me Anna Smith Spark has truly earned her ‘queen of grimdark’ title. She’s unflinchingly brutal, has a unique style of writing that is cunningly succinct and disturbingly on point and she’s definitely one to keep an eye on. I’d like to say that here is an author writing at the top of her game and yet as this is only her second novel that feels a bit premature because surely she has much more promise yet to deliver and I can’t wait to read more.

Write. Write. Write, I beg you.

I received a copy courtesy of the publisher, through Netgalle, for which my thanks. The above is my own opinion.

Anna Smith-Spark takes everything I loved from Court of Broken Knives and ramps it up in The Tower of Living and Dying. That’s not to say that this is faster paced. In fact in some ways this moves at a more measured tread and the overall story arc is smaller in scope. All I can say is that it really works for this book which was even better than the first one. If, like me, you are someone who savours prose then you are going to love this. Seriously, my lexical synesthesia was throwing a wild abandoned party over this one. If there is such a thing as lyrical even literary Grimdark, this is it. I imagine you’ll find this harder going if you don’t have my predilection for gorgeous prose but prefer SFF authors to be mostly invisible while they tell the story, you’ll probably have more trouble with this. I loved it and I’m hungry for more. Possibly one of the best fantasy novels I’ve read this year.

I loved The Court of Broken Knives when I read it a few weeks ago; and The Tower of Living and Dying answered to my every wishes, being the perfect second instalment in the Empire of Dust series.
Anna Smith Spark's writing style is as unique as ever, and I can understand if some people have hard times diving into it: short sentences, repetition of words, blurr descriptions during battles (and I sometimes found myself lost into it, though I guess it's the author's will to get us as lost as the characters).
This book starts where the last one left us; we find the same main POVs -Marith, Thalia and Orhan-, and new dangers and plots are introduced in this new book. Marith is as detestable as ever, but I cannot manage myself to hate him: even if, in his folly, he wishes to kill everyone, he feels remorse and regrets afterwards. He's an intriguing character, and has been since Book I; we discover a new facet of his character, the conqueror and king. He leads his armies through his enemies' lands, and leaves behind him a path of death and pain. Fortunately, we also had the chance to get more about Thalia, and I've been dying to get more POV from her since the first book! She's getting stronger, and seems to gain a more important role in the story. Besides in Sorlost, Orhan is facing other dangers spreading as a fever in the different quarters of the city.
The Tower of Living and Dying is a great sequel, and has been my favourite so far, with all its surprises and plot twists. This book will get your attention, I can guarantee you that. I cannot wait for its next instalment, where I feel a great battle is coming.

Compared to the badlands, blood and filth with which the first <i>Empires of Dust</i> novel opened, the early chapters here sometimes seem unnervingly close to an idyll, with Marith and Thalia riding through the woods by a river, enjoying the trees and the wildlife and the light...until it all comes crashing back that she's the rogue priestess of a murderous faith, and he's the heir to a ruler who once set the world aflame, and a quiet country life is never likely to be their lot. And now he's seemingly channeling that ancestor's charisma, but also his destructiveness, and a lot of people aren't entirely sure why they're following him, but they are, her included. Under which, she still keeps getting the temptation to leave and/or kill him, and she's not the only one...but will any of them actually go through with it, and would it work even if they did? There's a real feel and fascination here for the part that sheer momentum plays in great events, the awkward moment - or period - of pivot in which the usurper becomes the rightful king, the king becomes a hated tyrant, the movement for reform becomes the establishment and then the despised old guard, and people - even the people at the heart of it all - are left scrabbling to adapt to the new dispensation. Which, this being fantasy, is also made manifest in flawed and very human figures, people other characters know they've seen broken and dirty and faltering, who are also in some equally real sense something more (or maybe less, but certainly other) than human. There's also a lot of brutal violence, for sure, not to mention filth and plague and worse. But on the whole it feels a more meditative, less hectic read than <i>Court of Broken Knives</i> - a book which already outraged some fantasy fans in its deployment of literary devices such as deliberate repetition. And such readers aren't going to be won round here, but for those of us lucky enough to be able to handle emotional crises, epizeuxis *and* swordfights, it's golden. Though it may help that I got to read a fair chunk of it against the backdrop of London's own Tower of living and dying (Hell, two of them if you take the Shard as an embodiment of late-stage capitalism and its sins) and a particularly evocative big sky.

(Netgalley ARC)

The Tower of Living and Dying is the second instalment in the Empires of Dust trilogy and ticks all the boxes that a middle book should be ticking. Second books often fall into the trap of just being mostly filler or spending the majority of time setting up the final book but not this one. The Tower of Living and Dying instead just continues on immediately from The Court of Broken Knives. It’s easier to look at it as one long story broken up into separate volumes à la the First Law trilogy.

The Tower of Living and Dying begins with Marith coming home to the White Isles and dealing with the fallout he caused at the end of the last book. It very quickly becomes clear that he won’t be content with ruling just the Isles and almost immediately goes on to start assaulting the mainland cities. He takes Thalia along and her seeing him in full-on conqueror mode results in most of the strife between them. Meanwhile Orhan is trying to regain control and normalcy in the wake of the recent unrest in Sorlost. There are a few other POVs including a couple of new ones discussed below that really help flesh out the story from multiple angles.

Everyone who has read The Court of Broken Knives knows of Anna Smith Spark’s engrossing and almost aggressive style of writing. It’s not so much what she does as what she excludes. Casual neglect of grammatical rules and a lack of punctuation sound like they’d be a nightmare to read through, but it works incredibly well here. Every action scene contains these short rapid-style sentences:

“Everything utter confusion, pressed so tight, everything shattering. Shredded. Choking. Drowning in each other. Crushing too tight to breathe. Eyes staring, swallowing each other’s sweat. Everywhere swords and spears and horses and metal grinding remorseless against metal and skin and bone. Push. Push. Hold. The line wavering. Thrashing like a boy cracking a rope. Osen’s left burning. Osen’s left falling apart. Just hold.”

It’s exhausting reading these passages, it’s such a visceral description. The reader doesn’t really know what’s going on, what the bigger picture is in the moment but neither does the soldier. Spark also makes great use chapter lengths, a few times at climactic moments there are one-page chapters that just halt the action, letting the reader gear up for an act’s culmination. One in particular is just fourteen words, four sentences long but still conveys a sort of respite from the action and builds up anticipation for what happens next.

There are a few POVs but Marith continues to be the main character. He also continues to be detestable. He becomes exactly the kind of person who believes that they are the most important person in the world – except in this case, he actually is. He thinks little to nothing of others, able to casually obliterate an entire city over the perceived slight of one man. His true personality is revealed in one line in particular:

“The secret hidden pleasure of every human heart, that it is waiting to die and to kill”

He thinks this in the heat of a battle when he feels most alive, and attributes it to everyone, both sides. The reader knows – inherently and also through the knowledge of other POVs – that this is entirely untrue, but it does reveal Marith’s true feelings. Throughout almost the entire first book Marith is suicidal, content to let his addictions consume him. If he died, he wouldn’t have cared, and it is now clear that he holds other lives in the same disregard.

Marith’s relationship with Thalia is another example of his vain outlook. Any time he thinks of her, it’s always in a completely objectified manner. He can only see her as another one of his possessions. In fact, I don’t think that there is a single time that he looks at her and doesn’t remind himself how beautiful and fragile she is. Fortunately, throughout the book, Thalia starts to come out of her shell and is perpetually in flux regarding Marith. She repeatedly blames herself for the atrocities he commits and slowly pulls away from him. It’s a slow growth in character but it’s realistic and it should be fascinating to see its conclusion in the final book.

“[I should have] Left her safe with Matrina to wait on her and teach her good eastern ways, had her brought over in triumph, crowned and robed in gold”

I won’t go into much detail to avoid spoilers, but my favourite chapters were that of Lan and Tobias. I’m a sucker for points of view of privileged persons forced to live as commoners and how they react to it. Lan’s chapters make for an interesting perspective as she sees just how little the common White Isle folk care or are affected by the tumultuous events happening on their island. Tobias is a lot of fun to read, he’s basically a stand-in for the reader – on several occasions I found myself having the exact same reactions as he did to developments in the story. I’m looking forward to learning more about him in the final book; there are some questions dangled about his past that are not fully explored so I hope they get answered eventually.

The other storyline running in tandem with Marith’s is Orhan’s back in Sorlost. It heavily contrasts with Marith’s as opposed to armies clashing over and over, it’s politicians moving against each other trying to take control of one city. Instead of successful military tactics, it’s inelegant solutions to a steadily worsening situation. Orhan, through some trial and error, becomes quite adept at his realpolitik game. He gradually loses his morals to deal with his ever-sinking ship of a city. Darath on the hand is just way out of depth – put succinctly by Celyse as ‘a little, angry, blustering boy’. He was never my favourite in The Court of Broken Knives, but he truly shows his colours when things look bad and he suggests they run away from everything, leave all those who know and rely upon them to their deaths. Definitely in the running for least likeable character. It’s not helped by his and Orhan’s incredibly toxic relationship. I’m not sure if it’s meant to written the way it is but they yell and argue and break up and make up like teenagers; it’s exhausting to read (not in a good way).

There’s one more POV that was introduced in A Tower of Living and Dying. I don’t want to mention details, but I will say that it felt a little transparent. It was included only quite late into the book, as if it was afterthought, as if Spark realised she needed another POV in Sorlost to properly describe what was happening. I thought it was a useful insight in that regard but perhaps it should have been introduced earlier to be more organic.

I enjoyed The Court of Broken Knives, but I didn’t love it. The Tower of Living and Dying took everything good from its predecessor, refined it and included some great new additions. It doesn’t try to be its own story but is a clear continuation of the universe and leaves enough plot hooks left to be resolved in Empires of Dust 3. I don’t know where the next book is going (there’s still half the map to explore!) but I can’t wait to read it.

The Court of Broken Knives was a book I very much enjoyed when I picked it up earlier this year. Yes, there were a few issues, for me, that needed ironed out but it was an excellent debut fantasy novel. It was dark, gritty and full of interesting characters that I enjoyed getting to know.

The novel moves at a much slower pace than The Court of Broken Knives but there is a constant undercurrent of tension that slowly ramps up over the course of the book and you don’t even realise it is there until you’re sitting on the edge of your seat, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and thinking “what the hell is going to happen next?”

What I loved about The Court of Broken Knives was how beautifully it was written and The Tower of Living and Dying is just as good. Anna Smith Spark is a fantastic writer and her descriptions are second to none. Even in the midst of battle where blood and guts are flying everywhere, the prose is stunning to read. It flows perfectly and almost poetically. It is something quite unique.

“[…]he wanted to kill Marith because Marith was rich and beautiful and brilliant and a total evil poison shit.”

This is probably the best description of Marith. He is brilliant and beautiful but he also has an incredibly dark streak that makes you think “Jesus, that’s going a bit too far.” He is by far the most interesting character. Yes, he does some despicable things, his moral compass seems to be so off it’s in another universe and he does kill people in a variety of unique and disgusting ways but then afterwards he is filled with a level of remorse which stops him from becoming one dimensional and it makes you want to read about him. I am drawn to him despite the horrible things he does and his drug addiction only makes him more interesting as a character.
Orhan’s story went in a way that I wasn’t expecting. Sorlost, the jewel in the Empire’s crown, really goes through hell in this novel and Orhan’s downfall throughout the course of the novel seems to mirror that. It is very interesting to see the transformation of both the character of Orhan and of Sorlost from the beginning of the novel to the end and I am very interested to find out what is going to happen next. I didn’t feel the same kind of disappointment at the end of his story in this book that I did in The Court of Broken Knives. This ending seems like a natural one rather than the abrupt one of the first novel.

Tobias, bless him, gets all the best lines. There is a wonderful level of dark humour in Tobias and that quite often gives a moment of levity when everything is going to hell and there is just blood and death everywhere.
The overall theme of this novel is death. Lots and lots of death. People die in battle, people die after the battle, people are tortured to death, people die from plague. There is death everywhere and it is fantastic to read. The Tower of Living and Dying is one of those books which slows down the pace but the plot moves on substantially so by the end you’re in a very different landscape to where you started. The characters are brilliant and very compelling and the writing is absolutely stunning.

I'm only an occasional reader of fantasy but I love this series for its grown-up take on the genre: no adolescent Luke Skywalker figures here who have to learn to manage their power and save the world. Smith Smart's arc is darker, more violent and more morally-ambivalent, and her writing lifts this well above the workmanlike prose of much of the genre. Lyrical and almost poetic in places, even when writing of battles, blood and death, this is grim and gritty, set against an imaginative mythology and world.