Book written by Tomi Adeyemi, published 2018.
Zélie is restless. In the years since her mother and so many other maji were brutally killed, there has been nothing to do but look after her grief-stricken Baba, fish for a living, and remember. Training to fight with a staff helps Zélie to channel her anger, but what she wants more than anything is to follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a Reaper, a maji of life and death. But after the slaughter of all living maji, magic has seemingly died with them, taking the hope of all the remaining divîners. That is until Zélie comes across an ancient relic—a scroll inscribed with a ritual that can reconnect the divîners with the gods and restore magic to the land. But Zélie isn’t known for getting things right the first time. When it comes right down to it, will she be able to shoulder the hopes and dreams of an entire people and do what must be done?
Amari is frightened. As princess of Orïsha, it is her duty to sit still, look pretty, and support her father in his eradication of magic and suppression of all those blessed with the potential for it. But when her father orders the death of her divîner handmaiden and only friend, Amari knows she can’t afford to sit on the sidelines anymore. Plucking up either her courage or insanity, she flees the palace with the mysterious scroll that miraculously seems to give divîners maji powers. But Amari has never even set foot outside the palace before. If she’s going to survive in a world where everyone is out to get her, Amari won’t just need a few allies. She’ll need the heart of a lionaire.
Inan is torn. He wants nothing more than to prove to his father that he will make a good king, that he will continue to protect Orïsha from the plague of the maji. But Inan keeps terrible secrets, secrets that have him questioning the sanctity of his father’s mission and his duty as crown prince. If anyone were to discover the truth, Inan will be charged a traitor and immediately beheaded. So what’s more important? Duty or self?
I’d recommend this one to anyone who’s a fan of Cassandra Clare’s Shadowhunter universe. The world-building, the characters, and the writing have a lot in common, but Adeyemi’s story has its own exotic flavor that gives it its own style and a more heartfelt message about community and humanity.
I will say that there was a lot to process here. I had to majorly slow down my natural reading pace otherwise I either felt overwhelmed by everything that was going on or I had no clue what was happening. And even with the handy-dandy list of all the different types of maji at the front of the book, there were still a few times when I got confused. But hey, if you’re looking for a more in-depth read, this is the book for you. Personally, I’m not looking to go out and buy this one just yet because there are sequels I need to get through first, but I’m considering it!
This book contains intimate kissing scenes, off-screen sex, and some pretty graphic violence including torture, lynching, and multiple stabbings.
Read Children of Blood and Bone and become a divîner. Then you will be able to read the sacred text on the following scroll. (Spoilers ahead.)
"Magic shatters through every heart, every soul, every being. It connects us all, threading through the shell of humanity.
The power sears into my skin. Its ecstasy and agony flow at once, indistinguishable from pleasure and pain.
As it fades, I see the truth—in plain sight, yet hidden all along.
We are all children of blood and bone.
All instruments of vengeance and virtue."
One of the things I loved about Adeyemi’s characters was that they all embodied a different type/aspect of inner strength. Zélie is the Katniss-Everdeen-type revolutionary that wants almost nothing to do with the hand she’s been dealt. She knows she’s not the best candidate to carry everyone’s hopes and expectations, but she doesn’t back down. She just takes a deep breath and does her best because she knows it’s the right thing to do.
Tzain is one of those characters that gain strength by breaking down. The moment he announces to Amari that he’s tired of carrying everyone all the time and constantly fixing Zelie’s mistakes was the moment I admired him the most. We all have a breaking point, and sometimes we have the most strength when we actually allow ourselves to break. By feeling like he can’t take on any more, I think Tzain reaches a point where his strength is the greatest. And it was nice to see that kind of growth in a secondary character.
Amari is my favorite character simply because her journey strikes me as the most wholesome in the book. She starts off as this really timid princess who’s affected by the smallest words of gossip in court and who relies on her handmaiden to give her confidence. By the time the story is over, she’s this fierce, valiant young woman ready to face down her trauma. She becomes more accepting of the good things she deserves, and she gains the inner strength to seek them out. A classic character progression, but I like it. Plus, I just love the fact that she loves dessert! A girl after my own heart.
And Inan . . . well, there’s not much I can say about Inan at this point because his journey isn’t finished yet. He reminds me of Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender. He’s desperate for this father’s approval, but he’s unsure about his own wants and expectations for himself. I like the fact that Inan is a Connector. It adds a level of conflict to his character that Zuko doesn’t have. He develops empathy toward Zélie and the other maji, and he gains a desire to end the violence, but unlike his sister, Inan somewhat lacks the righteous fury and sense of justice to propel his conviction. He still fears magic and what it can do, so he still hasn’t reconciled himself one way or another with his overall conflict. With two more books to go, we’ll have to see if Inan’s character arc ranks up there with Zuko’s as one of the greatest redemption stories ever written.
The other thing I really want to talk about is the ending, which I loved. I mean, I’m still waiting to find out exactly what Zélie did in her ritual (magic for everyone or just Amari?), but I’m in love with the concept that we are all children of blood and bone. It was just such a powerful reminder that no matter our appearances or beliefs or potential, we are all connected by our creation. It’s another thing about this book that reminded me of Avatar: The Last Airbender; the idea that everything is connected and that the things we think separate us from each other are just illusions or lies we tell ourselves. So yeah, I just had to gush about that beauty of an ending.
The only quibble I had about this story was the pacing of Zélie and Inan’s relationship. They fall in that enemies-to-lovers trope, which means the relationship should be a slowburn. It takes time for enemies to learn to trust and be vulnerable with each other. Now, from Inan’s perspective, the pacing of his hatred-turned-infatuation is believable. As a Connector, he can experience Zélie’s pain firsthand without needing her to open up to him at all, so it’s kind of easy for him to reciprocate. But for Zélie, there’s no consent in her sharing. She doesn’t consciously make an effort to convey her pain and anger, and I expected her to feel more violated by that than she did. Zélie is so mistrusting of anyone connected to the crown, so the fact that the prince is privy to her deepest emotions doesn’t feel like it should be a great starting point for their relationship on her end. But miraculously, it works? And then, it takes Zélie all but a few chapters to be converted to the idea that Inan isn’t dangerous. All because he put himself between her and harm one time—a pretty big gesture to be sure, but, again, Zélie is suspicious and mistrusting by nature. She didn’t trust Amari for the longest time, and then she changes her mind about Inan really fast. I don’t know, it just didn’t feel that consistent for her character.
But hey, one book down, two more to go. I’m excited to see how this thing plays out! Thoughts? Let us know!
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