The Deep and Shining Dark introduces us to Marek, a coastal city-state whose magic is siphoned through a being called the cityangel. Sorcerer Reb realizes that the cityangel has gone missing and has been replaced by a new person named Beckett. Meanwhile, Marcia is Heir to House Fereno and has lost contact with her sorcerer brother, Cato. Searching for this dismissive man brings Reb and Marcia together, but the conspiracy behind it all might just threaten the political structure and magic alike.

My favorite character has got to be Jonas. He’s from Salina, an island nation close to Marek which doesn’t use magic. He gets these flickers, which are quick views into the future which present a bit like migraines. He’s in Marek trying to solve the problem with the help of a sorcerer, but unfortunately gets roped in with the wrong one.

That tension of suppressing magic in the name of familial approval despite having a community hits so close to home. It’s an effective allegory of the queer experience but it totally fits in this work because queerness is the norm and it’s so tied in with the world-building at large.

That’s another thing that really shines here: there is a clear agenda and nothing is black and white. Marcia, though idealistic, has many things to consider when it comes to her relative inexperience with regard to being a House Head. It’s intricate enough when you’re just considering the trade policy and guild relations aspect of it. Throw in magical relations, and it’s a great mélange of competing interests that don’t get resolved with one big epic scene.

Content warnings: Pregnancy, refugee crisis, blood magic

Plans and contracts march along as The Rising Flood begins. Reb and Marcia have a falling out over the Heir progression. Cato continues magic lessons with Jonas, while keeping an eye on Reb as a mentor through his partner, Tait. The demons are back, however, in ways that manifest as new arrivals from Teren, epic storms, and complex court intrigue that finally reaches a compelling tipping point.

Nothing in Marek is politically simple. The unraveling threads of governmental power come completely undone since we last saw them in Shadow and Storm. We have descension from within as the common folk voice their desire for representation. There are also refugees coming in from Teren, where demons might have been summoned to subjugate their own citizens into one political view. There are only five sorcerers, three of whom are untrained, to protect the people when the government won’t. These separate issues keep tensions high while not muddling the separate problems and discrete points of view. Kemp handles it with the finesse established in previous entries, keeping the book exciting even in more dialogue-centric pieces of the narrative.