Libba Bray’s tour de force of blended history, urban fantasy and the gothic comes to a breath taking, gut punch close in this fourth book. I’m still reeling. And I still need to apologise to the neighbours for the pterodactyl screech I let out on discovering I had an arc. This was everything I wanted it to be and more. A longer, more fulsome and no doubt meandering review to come nearer to release date, but this entire series is phenomenal. Ghost stories are always about the people and not the ghosts – something Bray has always done well. The real ghosts of the Diviners series are the ghosts of repression, injustice and prejudice. Ghosts who will always live in then haunted house we built. Ghosts who we need to be able to see and listen to in order to avoid creating more of them. These books are fantastically diverse and inclusive, beautifully written, savagely unflinching and uncompromising in their portrayal of historical cruelty, wonderfully well researched. They’re multi layered, featuring complex characters and in places are more than a little spooky. I love this series and can’t wait to reread it.

My love for the Diviners is pretty absolute at this point, so I came into <i>King of Crows</i> a mixed bag of wild anticipation, looking forward to taking one last ride with these beloved characters, and utter trepidation, fearing the fate Bray had in store for them. And <i>King of Crows</i> delivers. Oh, man does it deliver! The highs had me beaming and lows had me sobbing. This book is so, so good. And it made me so, so happy. And so, so sad. And I don’t think I would have had it any other way.

Now, I will confess I was also a little worried heading into this book because, though I enjoyed it, something had been off about <i>Before the Devil Breaks You</i>. The pacing never felt right, and it felt less of a cohesive whole than two books kind of forced into one. No such problems here, though I’m sure some will find it a tad slow in parts. I didn’t. For me, those portions had all the markings of a sort of claustrophobic horror. The sort where you can see the Bad Thing coming but can’t know for certain when it will strike and you find yourself unable to stop it. A “Don’t go up those stairs!” feeling pervades.

Speaking of the horror aspects, I am not too proud to admit that reading it one night (because, of course, I was staying up way too late reading this), I had to build up courage to make the trek from the bed to my bathroom. The scary parts are really pretty scary. We find them in the vignettes Bray writes so well, bringing such humanity to the poor souls we know so briefly before they succumb to their tragic fates, and the horror our core characters encounter on their trek across America. As this book is keen to remind us, we the people and our human actions are every bit as scary as the things that go bump in the night.

Bad things happen, the sins of our history are laid bare, but for all that I would not call this story dark. There’s still plenty of humor. (The banter, oh the banter!) The bonds of friendship, found family, love are all there and shining strong, and this is, I think, ultimately a hopeful story.

All of the protagonists get there due here and I love, absolutely LOVE, that each proves to have an essential role in bringing this book series to its close.

And, yes, there were some things I wanted to see happen that never did conversations that seemed to be missing, plot lines that promised more than they delivered. We’ll have to use our imaginations to decide a number of things. But the conclusion was no less satisfying for that.

Look, its killing me write all this and not just screech about this or that plot point and or this or that ship. So let me just say that, as a fan, I absolutely enjoyed this book. This series has been cemented as one I will revisit time and again throughout my life. I will continue to rec it and pray for an awesome and faithful Netflix adaptation. In the meantime, I’ll let this marinate for a bit, then re-experience through the audio book. (Which everyone should do because January LaVoy is a narrating goddess and the audiobooks for this series are absolutely amazing.)

ARC provided by NetGalley.

A stunning end to what has been one of my favourite series of the past ten years. It's been exciting and emotional in equal parts, Libba's prose are to die for and I can't wait to see what she comes up with next.

5 Stars

Wow.

I don't believe there's such a thing as a perfect book, but this comes pretty damn close. The first book in the series was a fun 4* for me, the second an easy 5*, but the last two books are something else entirely. Just wow.

Before the Devil Breaks You was my favourite book of 2018, and perhaps the best book I've ever read - and I've read a lot of fantastic books! Funny, scary, emotional, beautifully written and, most importantly, relevant, what started as a fun paranormal fantasy series had grown into a beautiful and terrifying reflection not just on our past but on our anxieties today, and was truly shiver-inducing for it. I worried King of Crows wouldn't be quite so good - finales have a habit of being disappointing - but my God, the fourth Diviners book was just as good, if not better, than its predecessor.

Alternatively heart-warming and horrifying (of all the books, this was the scariest for me), The King of Crows keeps you on the edge of your seat from the first page to the last. It proves that a book doesn't need to be bleak and deadly serious to be intensely political - if anything, the light of the characters working together while on the run and the banter and the beautiful relationships (platonic, familial, and all kinds of romantic!) makes the shade of the darker aspects of the book all the more impactful. Just as scary, if not more so, than the ghastly world of the dead is the dangerous world of the living, This is the US of the 1920s, after all, and unlike the previous books which focused on New York, much of this book takes place in the South. There's a real eeriness to the character's travels that goes beyond the ghost towns and the frequent appearances of the dead. It's haunted in more ways than one.

I loved how each of the characters got to shine in this book - especially the adorable Isaiah, who is such a well-written child, I could feel my own ten-year-old self in him. Everyone has their own battles to face and a purpose regarding the greater narrative and conclusion, quite some feat considering how many Diviners there are at this point. There wasn't a single character whose sections I wanted to skip - I even finally warmed to Jericho! My favourite is still Ling, but only by a smidgeon. I love all of the Diviners.

Can we talk about the writing in this book too? There's something so gorgeously poetic about it. The part about the river gave me chills, and I found myself highlighting practically half my ebook - there's just so many sentences that gave me chills. I found myself snorting with laughter a lot too, because of the aforementioned banter. My favourite kinds of books are the ones that make me laugh and cry. I never laugh so hard at the ones that are just funny, or cry so hard at the ones that are just sad. The balance of despair and humour in The King of Crows is spot on.

It pains me that this series isn't hugely popular, not just because there are few people for me to scream at about it, but also because it's so timely. The uneasy ending is perfect. In a post-truth world, we can find fact in fiction, and this book is telling us something devastatingly true - the horror won't end in 1927, and it hasn't ended now, either. It's our job to make a better history.

To conclude, a brilliant end to a brilliant series.