2023 read #85: Heir of Sea and Fire by Patricia A. McKillip.

Heir of Sea and Fire by Patricia A. McKillip

215 pages

Published 1977

Read from August 9 to August 11

Rating: 2.5 out of 5

Spoilers from the first two books of this series.

The second installment of McKillip’s Riddle Master trilogy, you’d expect this book to continue from the cliffhanger that closed The Riddle-Master of Hed. You know: when Prince Morgon of Hed had pursued the riddle of his destiny to the mountain of the High One; learned that the High One was secretly a wizard thought to have been banished for centuries; learned the harpist Deth had betrayed him; and used the Great Shout to bring down the gate of the High One’s redoubt. Instead, we skip entirely across the continent to the perspective of Raederle, who was technically betrothed to Morgon before the events of Riddle-Master unfolded. As with the opening of Riddle-Master, this makes for some dense scene-setting and rapid character introductions before we can properly get invested in the story.

The reason for this perspective shift quickly becomes apparent. No one has had news of Prince Morgon for a year — until, thanks to the mystical bond between rulers and their lands in this setting, Morgon’s brother Eliard realizes he’s the new Prince of Hed, and sends to the other rulers to inform them Morgon must be dead. Raederle suspects Morgon is alive, and that the High One — the realm’s previously unimpeachable and seemingly benign high ruler — might be up to nefarious deeds, or else deposed. Certainly everything magical seems to be out of whack: dead kings walk; trees whisper; wizards bound for centuries are suddenly free. Raederle links up with the warrior Lyra (last seen vowing to protect Morgon) to hijack a ship and follow Morgon’s trail northward. Morgon’s teenage sister Tristan also shows up for the adventure as a stowaway.

McKillip’s sensitive emotional work and careful prose are doing their best, but we’re still confined by the usual limitations of 1970s fantasy. The world hinges on the desires and deeds of a single all-powerful dude. Most of the book consists of journeys back and forth across the continent. McKillip’s lords-with-swords worldbuilding hasn’t changed; most of the realms our heroes visit feel like a single castle with a ruling family, and maybe three or four commoners who get ruled by them. Moving the perspective from the chosen one in search of his destiny to the woman in search of the chosen one is only an incremental improvement, but it’s an improvement nonetheless.

At times McKillip’s touch is too delicate, implying things so faintly that I don’t even catch what’s happening until the next chapter. This is practically baked into the setting — “riddles” are simply bits of plot-relevant information that none of the characters share freely with one other.

But it does seem that McKillip’s skill and confidence have grown in the interval since Riddle-Master. Or, at any rate, I seemed to like Heir a smidgeon better than the first book. Once again, however, we end with only further hints, questions, and unstated revelations. Guess I’ll have to finish the trilogy.