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This isn’t quite a sequel to Sing the Four Quarters, since the locale and characters change. However, the world is the same, and the magic is the same, though it ends up elaborated a bit more here.

It does take place a bit after the first book, and over the border in the Empire. This means that bardic magic doesn’t appear until about halfway through, and is never a prominent force. However, this is the one place where someone who hasn’t read the first book might be a little lost. Explanations of exactly what the kigh are, and bardic commands are possibly a bit lacking. The ‘fifth quarter’ is more than just a four+one title though. The four quarters are the elemental spirits that bards can command, and the fact that bards can also directly affect humans implies that they have a kigh as well. This is something that should probably have been seen in-universe before now, though Shkoder does seem to be a small country that is the only place trains bardic talent.

Which brings us to the story, which features body swapping and necromancy from singing the fifth quarter. It juggles four different plot lines as part of this, and pulls that off well by being very focused on one, which the others flow towards. The main content… gets a lot of comment, and understandably so. After the first book, one wonders if this series is all a vehicle for various types non-explicit sexytimes, with the first book having a fairly sexually liberated society, and this one having a bit of incest along with other complications.

I think this book is overall a bit better than the first one; it’s paced better, it doesn’t have a need for a truly over-the-top ending. But in both cases, what makes it work is the same: the characters are complex. They bend against their central core concepts in personal ways that don’t feel forced. Hmm. Except perhaps Karlene (the only major character bard), who remains a bit flat as a character despite some extensive screen time in the second half of the book, perhaps because her role is a bit functional as well as character driven.

The third and fourth books featured in this collection are better than the first two. Interestingly, they also don’t focus on Chrestomanci, and seem to happen around the same time as the first book (as opposed to decades before as in the second book).

Book three, The Magicians of Caprona, takes place in an alternate Italy that is still a collection of regional city-states (DWJ states that Chrestomanci’s world is a bit more ‘old fashioned’ than ours, so things are roughly like they were in the first half of the Nineteenth Century). So, you have a city-state, Caprona, with founding myth of being protected by an angel, and two feuding families that specialize in crafting magic. Things have apparently been going downhill in Caprona for a while, but the viewpoint young characters aren’t overly aware of that. Overall, the story is a lot of fun, though it gets more serious for much of the climax. Chrestomanci is basically the ‘special guest star’, as he shows up for parts of the second half as the plot gets moving. I saw some of the twists coming, but they weren’t really the important parts. Definitely my favorite of the series so far.

Book four, Witch Week, is even odder. Chrestomanci doesn’t show up until very late, and is fairly mystified as to what’s going for much of his time there. Though he has a fair amount of fun with the situation in usual DWJ style. This time, we have a boarding school farce. A dreary, depressing, institutional English boarding school, absolutely ordinary from our contemporary point of view. Oh, but witches are a thing in this world, and witchcraft is against the law, and punishable by burning at the stake. Which is an instant signal that this isn’t the normal world of magic we’ve been seeing in the series. A world that sounds a lot like ours, but burnings at the stake happen might seem like something of a stretch, but that turns out to be the point of all the action. Like most of her books, this one has a lot of flailing around until the ending just suddenly collapses into place, but it doesn’t feature characters just popping out of the woodwork like some of her’s do.

Overall, the Chrestomanci series is a lot of fun, and while these books feel more… peripheral thanks to Chrestomanci not being a major part, they’re also very much their own thing. I felt the first book suffered to much from characters just showing up for the ending, and the second mirrored the first too strongly, so I definitely like the change of pace here, even if seeing more directly with Chrestomanci and/or Cat would be good.

Guy Gavriel Kay is an author who I really, really need to read more of. My first experience with him (Tigana) was very good, and I’ve been meaning to read more for a couple decades now. Thankfully, I was reminded of him a while back, and picked this up just recently.

His general formula is to do a rich story in an invented, fantasy world that borrows heavily from a particular period of history. Here, the invention is fairly limited, as the geography is quite recognizable, if juggled around a little. Of course, geography had, in many ways, so much to do with the Reconquista, that that’s probably necessary. And… past that its fantasy side is stunted. One secondary character has a foreseeing ability. And that’s it. There’s no other magic here.

But, the religions are also shifted around, with the three-way tension of the Abrahamic faiths being instead different peoples who worship the sun, the moons (two), or the stars. Which allows Kay a few devices that add to the poetry of the book, but… grates on my sensibilities a bit. How did any of these get started? Why, when there’s already worship of one, does another get started? I mean, factionalism inside any of these would be easier to understand than just what exact problems these three religions have with each other. What would the fantasy-Romans or Greeks have worshiped? The can of worms can only stay closed when you refuse to look outside the confines of the story.

But the story itself is well done, and powerfully presented. This is Kay’s real strength. He brings ~14th Century Spain to life, and makes some interesting choices on how to do it. The Caliphate is gone, and the major characters are a little too aware of where history is going, and that not only will it not return, but the brilliant culture it produced is doomed to fade away. The major characters are all too well aware of where history is going (really, anyone this prescient would make a killing on Wall Street), which is more a vehicle to simply explain to the reader and add to the tone of loss. He also goes for a lot of poetic imagery, deliberately concealing information in one scene until it can be revealed later, and other literary slight of hands to raise tension and bring more of a ‘mythic’ feel to a story that is solidly grounded in real characters. They’re a bit larger-than-life, with some action-adventure tropes, but those impulses are restrained.

Kay juggles action and world-watching throughout the book. The types of action vary a bit, which is nice, though one portion felt more like it was lifted from a Clancy novel. On the other hand, part of the magic is being able to incorporate so many different things. It’s not perfect, but it is well-balanced and enjoyable throughout.