Beneath A Thousand Skies

It’s always fun when an author whose work you love ventures out of their usual wheelhouse; and that is very much the case here. I’ve been lucky enough to read some of Nevair’s more fantasy leaning work before, and while ‘A Trace of Kex’ doesn’t lean as far into the fantastical as that other writing, it has a healthy dash of it, with a splash of cosmic horror for fun, and wrapped up in the wonderful writing style and deft worldbuilding that Nevair is known for. It is easy to imagine this story taking place somewhere in the same universe as his Wind Tide trilogy, or the Agent Renault adventures (in fact if Lilline happened to encounter this world I would be delighted!)

The worldbuilding for this short story is evident from the very beginning, and aside from the delicious cosmic horror elements, I think that is my favourite part of this story. Nevair manages to flesh out this world and give it layers, from economic to power and politics, to the more intimate and intricate world of a particular character and her role in this world. There is a depth to the world that belies the length of the story itself, giving that wonderful feeling that not only are you immersed in that world for the immediacy of the story itself, but if you chose to step off the edges of the page you would find more of that world waiting to unfold; a feeling built through carefully crafted details and a strong sense of place.

The story at its core is a narrow focus on the work of a death artist. An individual that can use celestial magic to allow individuals to live again. That alone would have been an interesting story, but Nevair has woven together many threads to make it something more.

Firstly, there is the celestial magic itself – which was a wonderful blend of magic, technology through a neurosensor and psychic senses buoyed by both. That alone would have made for a fascinating system and one that is perfect for a science-fantasy story, but it was the cosmic horror element that really pulled me into the system – the threat and the weight of that bond, and how Nevair had built it not just into the world, but the present of the character, and the future of the apprentice – again creating that sense of a world and time extending beyond the borders of the story.

Then there are the questions that are being asked. The idea of death and rebirth is in itself interesting, but here it is built into society and class boundaries, and what wealth and power can buy…and what might be sacrificed by those outside that group in order for them to have that power. Especially when the death artists who are outside that class structure and are the means to this rebirth and power, do not benefit from it themselves.  I love to see that in a short story, and would be fascinated if Nevair ever decided to explore it in greater depth elsewhere.

‘They were apogee incarnate’ (my favourite line)

‘A Trace of Kex’ was a fantastic short story that danced across the borders between sci-fi, fantasy and cosmic horror. One which left me with the conflicting feeling that I had just devoured a full three course meal because of the detail woven into the story, and the way Nevair balanced that expansiveness with the narrow focus on the story and the promising allure of more; but also left me feeling like it could be the appetiser to a banquet, one that I wanted much more of. I want to delve more into the world of being a ‘death artist’ and the relationship with the star demon; but also into the questions of mortality, and the hierarchy of those who could be reborn and those who could be the tools of that resurrection.