Madness prevailed, cacophonous across the docks. Folk clambered along the labyrinthine quayside, hurling rock and invective as I staggered nigh on blind down the gangplank. The sunlight burned. Waves crashed below. Ape strode behind, a heavy paw clamped to my brittle neck. As a stone sailed in, I flinched. Hissed. Winced. Only Ape’s round shield and quick reflexes saved my handsome mug from impending annihilation. 

Kevin Wright’s Plague Maiden boasts some of the best prose writing from our batch and were it not for the fact that it’s the fifth in a series (and that neither I nor its second reader felt it truly works as a standalone), it would be a top contender for our finalist spot. Unfortunately, though each of Wright’s Serpent Knight Saga volumes is intended to be readable on its own, there’s a lot within the first quarter of Plague Maiden that lacks the emotional or narrative impact it would so clearly have if my fellow judge and I had been reading from Book One. I do want to preface this post by saying that in Plague Maiden Wright demonstrates a strong command of character and style, such that I’m excited to read Book One, Lords of Asylum, and give it a proper review.

A grimdark fantasy mystery, Plague Maiden follows the continuing adventures of Krait, a former investigator whose accolades include having solved a prince’s murder. Yet when we meet the Krait of Plague Maiden, he’s imprisoned in just about the dankest dungeon imaginable, subject to starvation, regular beatings, and the promise that at the end of it all his reward will be a gruesome execution. Not even Krait’s erstwhile allies are positioned to be able to help him this time around, and when Krait is finally rescued, salvation comes from a most surprising source: a court jester and former adversary who suggests to the king that Krait may yet be of use against a deadly foe.

I actually started Plague Maiden back when I made our intro post, wanting to double-check that despite being a later volume it could stand on its own. Chapter One wowed me with its noirish fantasy tone, Krait’s resonant and immediate character voice, and the stark poetry of Wright’s linework. Who was this miserable man suffering in the dungeons? Why was he imprisoned and how would he escape? At the time, I decided Plague Maiden could probably could be read without prior knowledge, and set it aside to return to later. However, when I picked it up again I found that while I could largely follow what was happening at a mechanical level, it was clear that I was lacking the context necessary for me to fully understand the tension of protagonist’s situation and his relationships with the supporting cast. It’s a shame, because the characters all leap off the page, especially once Krait is removed from the dungeons to face his judge, jury, and executioner. I was convinced by all of it that Wright is exceptionally skilled and that this is absolutely a series for me. All the same, pick up A Storm of Swords before A Game of Thrones, and you’re unlikely to feel the gut-punches and emotional highs even if you recognize that Martin’s a master at his craft.

Plague Maiden is a book I have a feeling I will wholeheartedly recommend once I’ve read the first volumes in the series, but for both myself and its other reader, it didn’t quite have the impact it ought to have and we didn’t feel that it fully stood on its own.