Beneath A Thousand Skies

Summary:

I cannot state strongly enough just how much I love this book.

Riley’s The Advent Lumina Cycle is a series and world that is going from strength to strength with each book; and into that expectation, The Light of Kasaban has stepped forward and gone watch me shine – and shine it does. This is a story of survival and tragedy, of loss and found family, of the worst of humanity…and the best; and above all an intimate tale of just what hope can do when the darkness seems like it will win.

‘The first of every month was execution day.’

With an opening line like that, this book comes in swinging and Riley doesn’t hesitate to drop us right into the middle of not only our protagonist Saya’s life, but also into his world. For those familiar with his previous books there are familiar elements, but for those venturing into these hallowed pages for the first time, the worldbuilding is all around from the very beginning. I don’t think I will ever be able to review a Riley book without talking about the worldbuilding, because the layers that he builds into each story, the lines that cross over in this shared universe are just so immersive. But, even without that familiarity, it would be impossible not to be swept up into this world.

The devils in the details, and Riley uses that to great effect – because it’s everywhere, built into the background of the city, into Saya’s life and actions, to the people around her. And he nails the feeling that this is just one corner of a greater whole – with fleeting mentions of other locations, the idea of a crusade with people coming and going from the front to the trade, and you just know that you could just step out of Kasaban in any direction and have the entire world spill open at your feet. At the same time, in Kasaban Riley has created an incredibly nucleated and intimate setting for what is an incredibly personal story; we know the world keeps going, but it’s a distant awareness because Saya’s life and therefore our connection is within the walls of this city…for now…

‘This city wasn’t home. This place was the graveyard of her joy.’

In The Monsters We Feed Riley demonstrated his ability to create a setting that was very strongly a character in its own right, in this book, he has upped the ante and made Kasaban a city that is as much an antagonist as the dangerous people that inhabit it. From the white sand and dust that coat the street and mark the status of those who walk its street; to the scorching heat that threatens to burn everything, to the layers of loss and history and old traditions that lay buried within its bones; Kasaban is a city that consumes. Through Saya’s relationship with the city, we see glimpses of what it used to be and what it could have been, and how it is a city of different worlds depending on who you are, and it is through Saya that we confront the reality of what it is. It was so easy to feel that scorching heat, the dust against our skin, to feel as though we didn’t belong within those walls and all because of how beautifully written her relationship with Kasaban is.

“Yes, Prelate Karda. We have never seen anything like it. Touching the source so young. This child is truly extraordinary.”

No discussion of the worldbuilding in these books would be complete without a look at the magick system. Again, what I love here is how for those who are familiar with the world and the magick there were still many new elements introduced here, from more ways in which magick can be rendered, to delving further into the counter-magic system of Render tracing and Glasseyes and Glassdogs and the punishment awaiting those who can Render but are deemed unworthy. For those knew to the system, Riley develops it in such a way that you gain the information the other readers already have. What I particularly loved about the magick in The Light of Kasaban is firstly the focus on teaching the young ones not only how to render their magick, and Saya is a fantastic teacher, knowing how to push and encourage the children and allowing them to grow without coming to fear the very thing that has led them to her. In the other books there has been more of a focus on established Magi, but here we get to see the baby steps; and I think as well the fact that Saya herself comes to learn more about her rendering, even in just coming up with new ways to use what she can do, adds to the feeling of growth and change.

There is also the opposing focus that permeates through this story, the idea of hiding their renders and the afterglow it leaves behind for others to track them with. The idea of Magi/sorcerers having to hide, and the various tricks and tools of the trade that can help with that isn’t new in Riley’s works; but it is especially prevalent in this story.

“Hiding to survive was better than fighting every moment of every day to live. Invisibility was better than armor. No one could fight the Priests. She had seen foolish people try.”

There is a passivity to Saya’s approach to surviving that adds so much nuance to the idea of Magick and rendering, and to Kasaban and her story. A tree that bends with the wind will survive longer, than the one that stands rigid; and that is very much the case here – both in terms of general survival but also with how Saya’s rendering develops and culminates in one of the most breath-taking scenes I’ve read this year.

While Riley’s worldbuilding is always spectacular and so deeply developed that I could just lose myself in the world and forget about everything else; it is absolutely impossible not to be pulled into the characters in The Light of Kasaban.

Saya absolutely steals the show not because she is a hero, but because she is so defiantly human and her fears and doubts, and the flaws that run like cracks from memories and loss are so relatable. In many ways she is one speck of sand cast up in this desert city, but in her, Riley has crafted a character who is made of diamond – forged by everything she has endured and continues to endure, and capable of shining brighter for it. That we get to spend so much time with her POV, living and breathing her fears, her sacrifices, her longings means that they very much become ours; I found myself like her longing for the quiet moments with her and the children, the little flashes of hope and happiness, the moments where she could be Saya Ani Anai the Teacher – rather than the teacher, the protector, the provider, and all the other little shards of herself that she created to keep them all safe.

The counterpart to Saya is our main villain in this city – Karda- in which I am fairly sure Riley has managed to distil the most horrific parts of humanity into human form. We don’t spend much time in his POV, but Riley in that short time managed to make my skin crawl, and it was as easy as breathing for Saya’s terror to become mine. What really made Karda linger though is that he was not just a product of the harshness of Kasaban, but rather of the twisting of the Light – as much a product of the fall of all that Kasaban had been as Saya was – but with the blessing of those in power.

With Saya’s children there are some who shine more than others, but Riley absolutely nails the feeling of a found family of children of different ages and experiences. And I lived for the moments spent with them – especially in the first half of the book where the focus was more on everyday life and day to day survival, where we got to see them just being children. The pranks and teasing, bickering and laughter and the tender moments where they in their own way protected Saya’s heart; and those moments in their home, safe from the looming darkness of Kasaban both intensified that menace but also gave the story so much heart. Because you wanted them to survive and grow and see Saya succeed in protecting her. But they couldn’t be untouched in this world, and I liked that Riley also built in those experiences – from the awkwardness of teenagers growing up in seclusion and not knowing what to do with new thoughts and feelings, to those who had seen more of the world already and tried to share Saya’s burden as best they could.

‘We will go far away from here someday.

One of these tomorrows will lead us to a better life.

As long as the tomorrows keep coming, one of them will be that day.

And the good thing about tomorrows is that there always is one.’

The Light of Kasaban is fundamentally a story about hope. Not as in wishes and dreams, although there are plenty of both even if they are only spoken of in whispers and the sanctuary of Saya’s own thoughts; but rather hope as a weapon, a blade that could cut through anything. Saya has lost so much to Kasaban, to the Priests and to life in this harsh world; she lives on a knife edge constantly, with loss and peril a noose constantly threatening to close around her neck; and yet, she never stops hoping. For a tomorrow. For a better life. To be able to protect her children. To be free. The strength to be able to hold onto that hope in a world where that light is constantly at risk of being snuffed out, and not only for herself, but to share it with others, to make it a living, breathing, tangible beacon for her children is awe-inspiring.

The Light of Kasaban is a fantastic stepping stone into Riley’s expansive world; and for those who are already familiar with The Advent Lumina Cycle there are some familiar people and features with plenty of the new to sweep you off your feet. If you love dark fantasy, that dabbles equally in the light of the world, and an intimate, personal character-driven story that will have your heart spilling open over the pages (there may be a death I still haven’t forgiven the author for) then this is absolutely the page for you.

And Saya’s story has only just begun…