Master of the House of Darts

Obsidian and Blood #3

by Aliette de Bodard

The year is Three Rabbit, and the storm is coming...

The coronation war for the new Emperor has just ended in a failure, the armies retreating with a mere forty prisoners of war - not near enough sacrifices to ensure the favor of the gods.

When one of those prisoners of war dies of a magical illness, ACATL, High Priest for the Dead, is summoned to investigate.

File Fantasy [ Magical Murder | Aztec Mystery | Human Sacrifice | The Gods Walk ]

e-book 9780857661616

Genres: Fantasy, Mystery, Historical Fiction, Fiction, Historical, Historical Fantasy, Mythology

443 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 2011

About the author

Aliette de Bodard lives and works in Paris. She has won three Nebula Awards, an Ignyte Award, a Locus Award, a British Fantasy Award and four British Science Fiction Association Awards, and was a double Hugo finalist for 2019 (Best Series and Best Novella).

Her most recent book is Fireheart Tiger (Tor.com), a sapphic romantic fantasy inspired by pre colonial Vietnam, where a diplomat princess must decide the fate of her country, and her own. She also wrote Seven of Infinities (Subterranean Press), a space opera where a sentient spaceship and an upright scholar join forces to investigate a murder, and find themselves falling for each other. Other books include Of Dragons, Feasts and Murders and its standalone sequel Of Charms, Ghosts and Grievances, (JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.), fantasy books of manners and murders set in an alternate 19th Century Vietnamese court. She lives in Paris.

Reviews

[✘✘ Sarah ✘✘ (former Nefarious Breeder of Murderous Crustaceans) · Rating 4 out of 5]

This trilogy in a nutshell: Brother Cadfael meets most scrumptious historical fantasy meets slightly bloody and somewhat devious but always glorious Aztec shenanigans.



Oh yes, those were definitely the good old times!

P.S. READ THIS THING.
P.P.S. Earlobe slashing FTW!

· Book 1: Servant of the Underworld ★★★★
· Book 2: Harbinger of the Storm ★★★★★

[Daniel · Rating 3 out of 5]

TL;DR - Not without it's positive aspects, but the resolution is unsatisfying, both in terms of this novel itself and the trilogy as a whole.

So this was a frustating read. There's a lot to love about this series. It's Historical Fantasy in the proper sense, meaning set in a real historical period in a real place, not the stupid sense I so often seem to see people use it where they seem to think "historical fantasy" is anything where they have swords and horses instead of cars and computers and cell phones. *grrrr*

It's Mesoamerican! Thumbs up for non-european based fantasy, more please.

They're mysteries! The best type of plot. These books do feature gods and magic and supernatural creatures, but as I mentioned in my review of book two, things are generally kicked off by human villains for human reasons even if bringing things back into balance requires a bit more than just identifying and arresting the criminal.

And things started off well. Things follow on from the last book, the army has just returned from the coronation war, which all are claiming a success, even if it doesn't quite seem like one, when one of the warriors suddenly drops dead at an inauspicious moment, and is soon followed by his disputed captive. Things spread, and it seems someone has unleashed a magical plague on them.

While my memory of the prior book is quite faint, much less the first one, my impression was that the mystery element was stronger here.

However...

This is going to get spoilery, so I'll get the non-spoiler stuff out of the way first.

Non-spoiler issues:

- My tolerance for human and animal sacrifice in the series has reached its limit.

- Invoking tropes and failing to resolve them.

- The editing. I generally think the author is a good writer, but the back part of this book is a mess. Like, occasional typos or missing quotes or things are normal and I don't begrude them. But the final climactic battle in the palace scene is just incoherent. The flow of sentences and paragraphs just feels jumbled like someone threw the manuscript in a blender. I was constantly what? questioning why is this sentence here, why is this paragraph here, what happened to x? Acatl's sister asks a question that it's incomprehensible she wouldn't know the answer to. Acatl has an entire conversation with his god that's like "what if..." and god of the dead is like, "I undertand your request." and I'm like, well I fucking don't! And then like I have no idea if there was some intervention or not or what it was if so. Seriously it did not read like a finished draft at all. I don't know if there was some issue with publication deadlines or the publisher was just like, meh, third book in a series, why bother.

So the next thing I'm going to rant about is the identity of the villain, I'm not going to say who it is, so ymmv as to whether this constitutes a spoiler, but I'll tag it.


So I mentioned earlier things are generally kicked off by human villains, well, not this time. The initiator of the whole plague thing is a ghost. And sorry, not sorry, but that just pisses me off. And it's not like there some character who's a ghost, who our investigator meets in the early part of the story. No, just out of the blue, this dead guy did it.


But all of the above is secondary to this:


So for context, you need to know that in the previous book, the Revered Speaker died and so did the next in line (Tizoc), and to protect the city from the attacking star-demons, the 3 high priests including our lead Acatl, brought the heir (Tizoc) back from the dead. (Not having a Revered Speaker leaves the city vulnerable.)

Tizoc was a horrible human being before he died, and now he's worse and every time he's mentioned it's pointed out how skeletal and weird he looks.

Have your trope alarms rung yet?

And to make it worse this isn't the only instance of Came Back Wrong in the book. Later in the book the above mentioned ghost gets a body when priests trying to treat the plague victims make a similar mistake in judgement.

Additionally, the next in line to be Revered Speaker after Tizoc is Teomitl, who is awesome and sort of apprenticed to Acatl, and married to Acatl's sister, and has the backing of the army and others.

So a good ways into the book, Acatl figures out two things:

1. Teomitl is planing to kill Tizoc and take over.
2. The plague and all the bad stuff going on are only even possible because he, Acatl, brought Tizoc back from the dead, thereby creating a breach in the boundary between worlds.

Acatl: "I am the High Priest for the Dead, keeper of the boundaries"

There are 41 references to the boundaries in the book. Acatl refers to himself as keeper of the boundaries multiple times, others remind him of it. His GOD calls him keeper of the boundaries. We're shown that even the gods are afraid because of the breach in the boundary. And yet when Acatl realizes all the chaos happening, all the death, is because he breached the boundary, his response isn't let's kill that fucker, as it should be, it's "well, maybe we can just mostly close it and leave it a little open", seriously?

There are two very obvious story paths, and doubtless other ways to resolve this trope and bring the story to a satisfying conclusion. For "reasons" Acatl is very against Teomitl overthrowing Tizoc right now, there's this vague bullshit about the star-demons, which isn't convincing. (I don't remember the details, but I'm pretty sure part of the reason the star-demons were able to attack before is that not only was there no Revered Speaker, but the Guardian was also killed. Her replacement is Acatl's sister, and every magical person who sees her remarks to Acatl how powerful she is.)

So the two most obvious paths to me:

1. Acatl takes responsibilty for his mistake, closes the door, ending Zombie Tizoc and thereby saving Teomitl from having to kill his brother.

2. Teomitl takes out Zombie Tizoc, saves everyone, Acatl realizes he was wrong and forgives Teomitl.

3. Profit!!!

But no! Instead the author tries to set it up like it's some completely unconvincing no win situation, and Acatl's all oh, there's no solution, woe is me! Acatl and his sister and some others manage to defeat the ghost and I guess do their "mostly closing the door" ritual, and somehow talk Teomitl into putting off his coup for a few years.

It's completely unconvincing, and unsatisfying and making the worst out of a bad situation, and I hate it.


So... mixed bag. I'm still going to give it at least a 3 for series to date and positive aspects, it was nice to see the characters again, but *grrrrr*

[ᴥ Irena ᴥ · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5

Revered Speaker Tizoc is back from his coronation war with only forty prisoners. When people start dying from what seems to be a plague caused by magic, Acatl realizes that the Fifth World is in danger. Again. Only this time the actions of the High Priests gave the opportunity to their enemies. I can't say how and why because of what happens in Harbinger of Storm (my favourite of the three books). To make everything worse, it seems even some of the gods are afraid.

You could say that Acatl stumbles through this investigation. The first person who dies is one of the warriors. Right after him, his prisoner. The manner of death in both cases is horrendous.
It doesn't help that most people he talks to are uncooperative, a lot of them loathed the dead warrior and Tizoc's paranoia reached a whole new level.

Teomitl's growth is wonderful here. He has grown as a character a lot from the first time you meet him in Servant of the Underworld. Here he has some very tough decisions to make. Teomitl is one my favourite characters, flaws and all.
Acatl's sister, Mihmatini, also has a great role in this story. Now that was done perfectly. Too often authors insert a female character in an environment where she ends up looking fake. You know, when they make her hit stuff or people, insult everyone and whatnot. Mihmatini's moments are so perfectly timed and her accomplishments are her own that, had she been more in the story, it wouldn't be as good.

The plot has a couple of slow moments and I think blacking out was used too much (but understandable considering what they are dealing with), but the great ones are truly great. Acatl's interactions with various gods (judging by their behaviour I would celebrate Lord Death too) are interesting.

[K.J. Charles]

Third in the noir detective Aztec fantasy trilogy with politics, god wars, and impending end of the world. Spectacularly gory, since magic is all done with blood sacrifice, and there's a lot of on page human and animal death, but that's the Aztecs for you. A really different and enjoyable fantasy (if you like dark) with no easy answers.

[Loth · Rating 3 out of 5]

The final book of the trilogy had the hallmark mystery that made the first two interesting, but there were two areas in which it struggled that made this less enjoyable to read. The first is that the magic we saw was beginning to feel routine, diminishing the sense of wonder the reader gets when exploring Acatl's world. There was a lot of repetitive phrasing that made magical scenes feel dull, and some of the magical discoveries felt too rushed to be exciting.

The second, more important flaw, was that the author continued to write dialogue scenes that failed to communicate any information. Every time the characters interact in this series, they don't say what's on their mind, interactions are brief, and everyone's always cutting each other off. It's more than just a character trait, there are so many instances where the book assumes that the reader was able to follow the intended meaning of the conversation and learn important, plot-advancing information, but they failed to actually provide that. So the plot carries on like a puzzle piece just fell into place, but I was left wondering what clue I just missed or how the clue had just materialized out of thin air. It made key parts of the storyline feel disconnected and clumsy, with the worst case being the final scene of the story's climax. I'm not sure how the confrontational conversation resulted in the outcome that it did, the dialogue was just so weak and unconvincing.

Overall I enjoyed the world the series showed us, one rooted in real Mexica history and flourished with a layer of magic, and I enjoyed the plot's mysteries but found some of the communication of ideas made the journey a bumpy one.

I almost forgot to mention this, but there is an abundance of typos in the book that broke the flow of the reading. This just adds to the overall feeling of this book having been rushed. I was glad to be done reading by the time it was all over.

[Scott · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you want to take a plunge into the bloody realm of the Aztecs as Acatl, High Priest of the Dead, tries to unravel the mystery behind a mysterious illness spreading in the capital, then this book is for you. It's filled with palace politics, ancient gods, costly magic, and growing tension as the plague grows in severity. One particularly nice aspect of reading this book is that it paints a balanced portrait of a highly civilized Aztec society that nonetheless engages in regular human sacrifice as a sacred religious rite. The Aztec medicine presented in the book struck me as remarkably advanced, what with notions of disease contagion and vectors, although my initial bias that the Aztecs wouldn't have conceived of such things seemed groundless after a little research revealed to me how superior their medicine was to Spain's in the following century.

Bodard involves the reader in three main characters: Acatl, our high priest PI, his sister, and an heir to the throne with his own agenda. Like many superior mysteries or fantasies (in this case both), Bodard uses a highly involving plot to reveal larger human and societal issues. It's a book that's not only involving while reading, but interesting to ponder after one is finished.

[Rob · Rating 4 out of 5]

...I enjoyed reading Master of the House of Darts as much as the previous two novels. We see a bit more confident Acatl in this novel, despite the fact that he is dealing with unintended consequences of his own actions. He is not a particularly optimistic character but his dark moods fits the dire situation the Mexica Empire is in. It was a nice touch to see that even the gods fear what might happen if the fifth world (the current one according to Aztec mythology) were to come to an end. Readers of de Bodard's other works will appreciate the intrigue and vividly realized Mesoamerican setting. As usual, the author leaves me hungry for more. I understand her next project will be the first full lenght novel in the Xuya alternative history. If possible, I look forward to that novel even more than I did to Master of the House of Darts.

Full Random Comments review

[Kam · Rating 3 out of 5]

When one is reading a series, it's inevitable that one begins to develop expectations, or attempts to make predictions, regarding what will happen next. One grows attached to certain characters, and based on events that have already happened, one may attempt to guess what will happen to those characters, as well as how the rest of the plot will impact them, and how they themselves will impact the plot. Will they die, and will that death be a vitally important one, or will it be some nondescript event that happens offscreen, so to speak? Will they survive and go on to greater glory? Or will some plot twist cause them to fail, or take a course far different from the one the character was originally on? Will they lose something or someone important to them? How will they deal with the loss? Will it destroy them, or strengthen them?

Nowhere are these questions more important than in the last book of a series. The last book is supposed to tie up loose ends, answer any remaining questions (though not all, necessarily - sometimes a few unanswered questions are welcome), and generally provide a sense of closure, one that suits the events that led up to it. I find an undeserved ending very irritating: a happy ending when a tragic one would have been more suitable, or a sad ending when a happy ending could have worked just as well.

But there is nothing more irritating than an inconclusive ending. Such endings make me want to turn the book over and shake it out in the hopes that more pages turn up - and while I've used this to refer to good cliffhangers, that feeling is unwelcome in a book that's supposed to wrap up a series. In some books, that irritation can turn into outright frustration, but in others it remains at a low-level disappointment, a particular flavor of sadness wherein I think a book could have been absolutely pitch-perfect had it not been for that ending.

And that is how I felt after finishing Master of the House of Darts, the final book in Aliette de Bodard's Obsidian and Blood trilogy. Set in the ancient Aztec empire before the coming of the conquistadors, the trilogy is narrated by Acatl, High Priest for the Dead, and therefore a servant of Mictlantecuhtli, and his wife Mictecacihuatl, Lord and Lady Death, who rule the realm of Mictlan, the Aztec underworld. Acatl would like nothing more than to lead the regular, relatively quiet life of a priest, but he is unable to do so as he constantly finds himself caught up in the troubles of others - from clearing his brother's name in the first book, Servant of the Underworld, to saving the world from total annihilation in Harbinger of the Storm.

Master of the House of Darts picks up mere months after where Harbinger of the Storm left off. Something's not quite right with the world, and Acatl knows it - he is, after all, the reason why everything feels wrong in the first place. He helped Quenami, High Priest of Huitzilpochtli, and Acamapichtli, High Priest of Tlaloc (and erstwhile enemy, in the events of the first novel Servant of the Underworld) bring Tizoc-tzin, the current Revered Speaker, back from the dead in a desperate bid to prevent star demons from ravaging the Fifth World. Though they've managed to accomplish their task, they've had to leave a part of the Fifth World open to the influence of the other worlds, in order to keep Tizoc-tzin alive. And no one is more acutely aware of this wrongness than Acatl, who, as High Priest of the Dead, knows that Tizoc-tzin ought to have gone down to Mictlan.

But that sense of wrongness quickly becomes the least important thing he has to deal with. When Tizoc-tzin returns from his (unsuccessful) coronation war, one of the soldiers suddenly drops dead during an important ceremony. When Acatl investigates, he finds out that there is magic involved - magic that spreads from person to person like a disease, and begins dropping people like flies. Once more forced to work with Acamapichtli (whose patron god, Tlaloc, also deals with epidemics), Acatl must once again try to figure out what is going on, and stop it, before it is too late. And as if that were not enough, he has to deal with his former student, Teomitl, now the Master of the House of Darts and therefore Tizoc-tzin's heir, chafing at the bit to become what he was meant to be: the leader of Tenochtitlan, and of the entire Mexica Empire.

As with the previous novels, Master of the House of Darts is technically a murder mystery, and it's not that bad as an example of the genre. As with Harbinger of the Storm, I suspect the reason why it's better as a mystery is because much of the world-building no longer gets in the way like it did in the first book. In Master of the House of Darts, this is even more so because de Bodard no longer has to introduce as many characters: many of the important figures in this novel are familiar to the reader from the first two books, which means that there's little need to develop them from scratch.

This isn't to say, of course, that they don't grow as characters, and in this regard de Bodard has done well - at least, with some of the characters. Acatl is pretty much the same as he was in Harbinger of the Storm, though in this novel it appears as if so many important things have escaped him, and he's not so much solving mysteries as he is running from one end of the city to the other, trying to keep up with other people as he tries to find answers. While this lends a rather fun, breathless quality to the plot (particularly since Acatl is the narrator of series), I did find it rather disappointing, because the reason I like Acatl in the first place is that he's an ordinary man trying to do his job, but he keeps finding himself in these situations wherein he's got nothing but his wits and priestly knowledge to get him and everybody around him out of trouble. In Master of the House of Darts, it feels more like other people are doing the work for him, and the only thing he can do is follow them around, desperately trying to piece everything together as fast as he can to finally see the bigger picture.

I also have a problem with the multiple subplots that crop up throughout the course of the novel. I'm usually not put off by having lots of subplots in a novel, as long as I can keep a handle on them, and most of them are resolved at the end of the novel. De Bodard has no problem keeping the subplots in order and making them coherent to the reader, but as for resolving them - well, that's where I take issue with this book. Two major subplots crop up that are not resolved: the question of whether or not Acatl's priesthood managed to close the gap between the worlds just enough to keep ghosts out, but keep Tizoc-tzin alive; and the question of Teomitl's attempt at rebellion.

Of the two, de Bodard attempts to close out the second at the end of the novel, but the attempt feels feeble and not at all satisfying. As for the first, I did not find any evidence that it was resolved at any point in the novel, and I think that would have been the most exciting thing to happen in the entire book. The results would weigh into Teomitl's subplot, as well, considering the stakes involved. Since this is the final novel in a series, I was hoping for a totally conclusive ending - not necessarily with fireworks and swelling music, but something that at least brings some kind of closure to the whole work. Master of the House of Darts does not end that way at all: Teomitl's rebellion is put in abeyance despite the heavy implications that he would fight his brother for the position of Revered Speaker, an action that, based on the previous novel, would probably have won him the approval of Huitzilpochtli and made the Revered Speaker his brother could never be. This could have been a chance for further character development, not only for Teomitl, but also for Acatl and Mihmatini, who is Teomitl's wife and the new Guardian of the Duality.

I find it disappointing that instead of a truly strong, conclusive ending - which I had expected - the ending for Master of the House of Darts instead comes off a bit limp. It promises more, but "more: never actually comes, and may never come, as there has been no indication from de Bodard that she plans to write more of these novels.

Overall, Master of the House of Darts is a disappointing ending to what has otherwise been a really fun series. There is a great deal of promise, at the start: the events arise directly from the consequences of events in Harbinger of the Storm, and the mystery appears to be well-crafted enough in the manner of the second novel. However, readers may find that they quickly grow weary of Acatl not really solving anything so much as racing after other people, struggling to keep up with them while trying to put together the pieces they leave behind to solve the puzzle of the mystery that he's presented with. They may also find that, once they get to the end of the novel, they get the urge to ask: "Where's the rest?" because of some rather large plot lines that are not resolved satisfactorily, or not resolved at all. It is this failure to resolve those two plot lines that I find is the most disappointing aspect of this novel, and which other readers may find disappointing as well.

[Cynthia · Rating 3 out of 5]

The third book in this series - while this one builds heavily on the last one, it also felt a little repetitive - the characters are wrestling with the implications of actions from the last book, but it doesn't really go anywhere, and the problems are almost the same as the last book (I mean, they're different problems, but they're super similar problems). I enjoyed this series, but I wish it had built up a little more.

[Jeni · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the final book in the trilogy and I've really enjoyed reading these over the past few years. It's a shame there isn't more.

[Aleksandra · Rating 4 out of 5]

4,5 stars. It was great, kept me interested both in the event and, as always, with characters.

[Tan · Rating 2 out of 5]

The world building in this is incredible but it just didn’t grip me as much as the others in the series.

[Nathan · Rating 4 out of 5]

First posted here

Third, and currently last, in the series, Master of the House of Darts once again follows Acatl as he investigates threats to the empire, and the mortal world itself. A quick recap for those unfamiliar with the series. Acatl is the High Priest for the Dead, who in his duties of ushering the dead to his master also does his best to keep people from messing with the boundaries that protect the world. Magic is real, gods are accessible (on their own terms of coarse), and blood fuels many things. Told in the first person, the book follows Acatl in his investigations.


Building off events of the second book, we learn that the coronation war for the new Reverend Speaker Tizoc-tzin was a disaster, not bringing in near enough captives for sacrifice. The Reverend Speaker is a weak, paranoid man, yet his coronation necessary to keep the boundaries safe. Thus matters are made worse during the celebration, when one of the captives falls to a illness. Tizoc-tzin sees it as a slight at best, a plot at worst, and Acatl is called in to investigate. He once again face hostile witnesses, political infighting, and magical enemies. Worst of all, some of the blame for the sickness may fall in his own lap.

Personally, I found this to be the best book of a very good series. The same positives from the first two books are still present, a very easy to read writing style(easy to read but not simple or dumbed down), a quick pace, and some incredible world building, incredible accessibility despite the lesser know pantheon and names. Even though the second book dealt with a possible end to the world, Master of the House of Darts took a similar fate and did it better. Perhaps this was because in many ways it felt more like a fantasy book than a mystery book, which lends itself better to the "save the world" type story. The magic felt more organic here, it was never used as a crutch, or perhaps it was just better explained. There was a bit less traveling this time around, which also led to a tighter story. The ending involved several confrontations that were tense and believable, including some between people who are supposed to be allies


Perhaps it is because I am more familiar with the characters three books in, but I felt several were seen at their best in this book. Acatl continues to build on his improvements from the second book, and is now more secure with his place than ever. Which is good, because as usual he is surrounded by people who are only friends if it helps their own cause. Nezahaul-tzin is back from the second book, still infuriating Acatl, but still helping in small ways. I have grown to enjoy any chapters with Acamapichtli, one time enemy of Acatl, whose master of political manners are in direct contrast to Acatl, who finds the politicizing to be the worst part of his job. Mihmatini, Acatl's sister, has a larger presence in this book, and makes the most of it. She is one of the most resourceful characters in the book.

The book is at its' weakest when it is following conventions of the mystery genre. Constant dead ends in the investigation have started to get repetitive after three books. The "cryptic message" trope is also overused. Is there any reason that not one person cooperates fully with Acatl? Especially those innocent of wrong doing? But as this book is more focused on the weakening of the boundaries, this is a minor squabble at most.

There was also one plot point that seemed to rely on knowledge that I am not privy too. It was brought up that Acatl's order was forced to expel many of the female followers, making it currently an all male priesthood. I know there were several short stories published before the novels, and wonder if the details are are in one of them.

All said, this was a great end to the series.

4 stars.

[Kate Sherrod · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Aztec godpunk trilogy that began with Servant of the Underworld and continued in Harbinger of the Storm comes to its Obsidian-y and Bloody end in this last volume but as should be the case in any good mystery series, Master of the House of Darts stands perfectly well on its own, even though we take up the thread of the story very soon after the conclusion of Harbinger.

The middle volume was all about the struggle for succession, and ended with the more or less expected victor emerging as Revered Speaker (in a bizarre and unique way), but his rule was not yet cemented, for various reasons. To do that, Tizoc-zin must lead his warriors in battle (his "coronation war"), capture physically perfect prisoners, and sacrifice them to the gods to ensure the continuation of the world as the Mexica knew it.

As we begin the action in Master of the House of Darts (the title given to the heir apparent to the Mexica throne, usually the Revered Speaker's younger brother), that battle has been fought and won, but a paltry 40 prisoners are brought back to Tenotichtitlan -- so the new Speaker's rule is already on shaky ground.

And then one the victorious warriors and one of the would-be sacrifices die unexpectedly and mysteriously.

And others suddenly aren't looking so good either.

Enter our hero, Acatl, the Death God Gumshoe, solver of crimes, defender of innocence, and High Priest of the Dead. He is by now a most seasoned solver of supernatural crime and has the scars and scabs to prove it.* Quickly, he determines that the sacrifice, an honorable warrior of a faraway kingdom now lying dead and leaking pus, died of most unnatural causes, namely a supernatural disease, as did the warrior who claimed credit for capturing him.

Uh and also oh.

Soon the plot is thicker than clotted blood as various candidates for the caster of the malign spell that has caused what threatens to become an epidemic are brought up and eliminated. Is it the merchant from a previously conquered city who turns out to have been a member of that city's Imperial Family? Is it the High Priest of the storm-god Tlaloc (a vicious frenemy of Acatl's -- and hey, the diseases's symptoms mimic suffocation or drowning, so this hypothesis immediately volunteers itself to the seasoned Obsidian & Blood fan)? The titular heir-presumptive, who happens to be a devotee of Tlaloc's wife Jade Skirt? All of them? None of them?

Acatl goes through all of the usual detective motions, trading hypotheses, interviewing suspects, raising the souls of the victims to ask what they remember of how they died... all the while stubbornly clinging to his faith in a person who has pretty much been the Archie to Acatl's Nero Wolfe. As the story and the mystery all finally come together, the roots of the later holiday, Dia de los Muertos, become evident and the reader suddenly feels a compulsion to re-read Malcom Lowry. As one does.

One also feels a need to go back and read the trilogy from the beginning, all in one go, to catch all the stuff she obviously missed. And knowing that she needs to read on an empty stomach.

And since a lot of elements in these stories are inspired by actual events, actual history -- the emperors, the inter-city politics, and yes, the epidemic -- one wants to do some non-fiction reading as well. As one does.

Damn fine stuff, this.

*Aztec spell-casting and other acts of propitiation and divination requiring that the supplicant donate quite a lot of his own as well as other animals' and people's blood to the cause.

[Saphana · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm not going to do a full review, since there's no need for a synopsis - enough of them out there already. Let's just say, that Acatl has to solve another murder mystery threatening the existence of the Fifth World in this noir fantasy, based in 14th century Tenochtitlan.

It's like I assumed in my review of the first volume. The author has by now fully grown into her art. Gone are the repetetive and overpronounced introspections of the MC. Gone are the -sometimes- very non-sequitur dialogues and the whole book has an inner dynamic and transcendence, that you get the feeling, the story is narrated in your head. By this time, the setting's beauty is overwhelming. It made me look up lake Texcoco, the surrounding cities, the whole Mexica Empire. On the note of Empire: it finally dawned on me, that this isn't as big an area as a modern person would believe. I mean, if you have to travel for 6 days on foot to reach the next "empire" (and bring a war to them), that's not exactly far away. Which just goes to show, that we have lost the perspective required to admire 100K people living in an area that today houses millions.

In the face of all this, I redistributed the stars attached to each volume. This is definitely the best, but the growth was easily recognizable with the last one, too. I have to say, that -as so very often- this rating system by no means reflects the internal quality of a book: if it were so, I would have to give five stars for each volume of this series, just to acknowledge the brilliance of placing a fantasy noir in ancient Mexica/Aztec culture (and to do it well) and come up with completely new ideas for character development and magic.

[Nicky · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's a certain formulaicness you start to feel creeping in when you read too many mysteries in a row. The confused detective, with everyone turning to him for answers and very few allies to help him leverage his way out. I don't know if it strikes everyone that way, but it's there with Harry Dresden and Matt Richter and... I can't think what, now, but it feels so familiar.

Still, Master of the House of Darts did surprise me, in some ways. Mihmatini had a big role, still, despite being Acatl's little sister: I constantly worried she'd be relegated to the little sister/lover role, but she had her own ideas. And I was surprised -- and didn't quite like -- by Teomitl's behaviour. It made sense with his previous characterisation and the plot, but I didn't want it to go that way. I did like the ending, though.

All in all, Aliette de Bodard has used a less-recycled mythology as the basis of her stories, and brought it to life in a way that made for very pleasant reading. Except maybe for the bits about the disease spreading -- I'm not a fan of descriptions like that.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

igh priest continues to solve crimes, avert the end of the world. The noir parallels are rather explicit, now that I think about it: Acatl is the ex-cop who left the force because the top brass were all corrupt and he couldn't stomach the ass-kissing needed to get ahead. Okay, it's not a perfect parallel -- he never was "on the force" -- but the "last honest man, refuses to play politics" theme is very much there. This is the point in the series where he has friends and allies, but he's not sure of them because they play the games -- but he needs them for just that reason.

I like this depiction of the worship of Lord Death. Lord Death is the god who doesn't have to play games, because everything comes to Him eventually. (Yes, the themes tie in.) On an unrelated note, I was startled to realize (I know, duh) that these are the cultural threads that lead to the modern Mexican Day of the Dead and thence to _Grim Fandango_.

[Michel · Rating 2 out of 5]

This review will count for all three books in the series, since I felt the same way about each of them.
I love the idea of the Aztec Pantheon and setting. There was just something that didn't click with me in these books. The main character seems to be this relatively unqualified/inexperienced high priest, who admits repeatedly that if he would do his high priest duties better all of his investigations would go more smoothly. Instead he runs into friction wherever he goes. The uncooperativeness (word?) of every character gets old.
I also felt like the fantastical elements of magic/divine intervention weren't given quite the drama and excitement they could have.
I wanted to like this series so much I feel guilty for the lackluster response. I'll see if I can find some other books that use this setting.
Also, I realize living sacrifice was a necessary part of their religion, but the animal sacrifice got tedious for me.

[Gabrielle]

Magical Mysteries in the Time of the Aztec Empire: an interview with Aliette de Bodard

Aliette de Bodard, a 2009 finalist for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer, wraps up her Obsidian and Blood trilogy this November with Master of the House of Darts. The series is a “cross between a historical Aztec fantasy and a murder-mystery, featuring ghostly jaguars, bloodthirsty gods and fingernail-eating monsters.”

In all three installments, de Bodard masters the atmospherics needed to pull readers into this dark and magical world. The protagonist, Acatl, the High Priest of the Dead in charge of the Sacred Precinct, a position that can be thought of as a mix between priest and coroner, is a sympathetic character with personality flaws that transcend time and culture. Time and again he finds himself unwillingly dragged into impossible investigations and forced to confront both internal struggles and external demons.

Vivid imagery, flowing prose, and natural dialogue are at the heart of de Bodard’s writing. One of the most original storytellers out there, Aliette merges her love of mythology and her desire to bring more non-Western influences to the science fiction and fantasy realm.

Aliette and I talked about the days of the Aztec Empire, the trouble with mainstream narratives, and how to pitch a book idea on the fly.

The Obsidian and Blood series takes place during the time of the Aztec Empire. This civilization was wiped out in the early 1500s by Spanish colonizers and what’s known about them is largely taken from archaeological digs. You’ve mentioned in previous interviews that part of your motivation in writing this series was to repair the damage done to their legacy. I hope I’m being accurate, feel free to correct me. What was most important to you when you sat down to recreate this world?

What was most important to me was to present the world in a fair way: as you mention, a lot of the narratives we have around the Mexica/Aztecs are Spanish ones, and the surface ones are deeply biased. I've mentioned it in other inteviews, but I was always struck by how often narratives reach for the Mexica when they need a bloodthirsty, evil culture. And it seems... wrong. I have issues with caricatures; and I don't believe every single aspect of a culture can be irredeemably evil. Plus, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that the conquistadors were hardly saints or trustworthy witnesses, and when I set out to tell stories set in the heyday of the Mexica Empire, what I wanted was to avoid falling into the same clichéd depiction of the culture. I'm no Nahuatl, but I did try my best to research the culture and bring to light its achievements.

What achievements did you unearth during your research?

Once you get past the stumbling block of human sacrifices, you realise that the Mexica civilisation was a very advanced one in many respects--that they had fantastic astronomy and medicine, that their women had vast amounts of rights compared to most medieval civilisations, and that their justice system was harsh, but much fairer than its English or French equivalent, putting the onus of responsibility on noblemen (who could afford to respect the prohibitions) rather than on commoners (who couldn't).

And what about the notion that we only have archaeological digs to go on?

Archaeological digs aren't the only source. We have at least three major sources for the Mexica civilisation: the remaining Nahuatl people in Mexico, though they did not fare well under Spanish rule; the accounts of the Spaniards such as the Codex Florentine, who attempt to account for the civilisation they destroyed, but which are--naturally--hardly free of bias; and finally, the archaeological digs themselves, though those are made difficult because the Spanish were thorough in destroying anything Mexica they could find, and also because Tenochtitlan itself is under Mexico City, not the most propitious of places to dig.

Have you always been sensitive to marginalized cultures?

That's a tricky one... I'm not exactly sure what we mean by marginalised culture--I'm choosing to interpret this as "not mainstream where you and I hail from", but I'm aware there are degrees of marginalisation, and that things can vary across the globe (you can argue, for instance, that Thai culture is marginalised in the US, but you can certainly not say the same about Thai culture within Thailand, or even within the Indochinese peninsula). If we go by this definition of marginalisation, I'm not exactly in the dominant cultural ballpark. I live in France, but I don't fully hail from a Western country, and there are bits and pieces of my cultural bedrock that are, not standard, for want of a better word?

Do you have any examples from your personal life?

I remember growing up on a mixture of French and Vietnamese fairy tales, and not realising until fairly late that the things which seemed normal to me were, in fact, far from the norm in society (ranging from something as simple as rice cooking to deeper ideological divergences, such as the Confucianism I picked up from my mother and grandmother). I think my interest in non-mainstream culture comes from this; and from the fact that I've always been a cynic and a contrarian, pretty much disinclined to believe in the standardised versions of history, science, social interactions..

What bothers you the most about them -- those standard versions that many of us learn in school and find reinforced in mainstream culture?

The narratives are my biggest pet peeve. I've always been mildly annoyed by the exclusive nature of the mainstream narratives--which are all or almost all Western-centered and Christian-centered. I'm not only talking about novels and short stories; but also about the more insidious stuff: the stories we use to shape our everyday lives; the way the newspapers structure and present facts, even the way science is framed (I'll come back to that later); the sentiments around which our worldviews end up centering (because, no matter what you do, it's hard to avoid internalising stuff if you're breathing it in every day). I try to present other options in my writing, though I'm unsure how successful I am at all!

You have this amazing ability to bring characters and their surroundings to life. When I read your books, I can feel the darkness of the world -- it’s kind of like being wrapped in a heavy velvet blanket -- but it’s never oppressive or claustrophobic. You’ve now written three books inside this atmosphere -- and feel free to correct me here as well -- what drew you to it and how does it compare to your personality?

I think the main reason it's not oppressive or claustrophobic is that neither I nor my characters view it as claustrophobic--it's a violent world, one that I'm not sure I would want to live in; but at the same time it's also a world that was home to millions of people, and they didn't think of it as unbearably gloomy. For them, it was all perfectly natural, and I think that if I can manage to make this come across in my writing, then the readers will put themselves in the main characters' shoes, and see it as perfectly natural.

Though I will note that I'm not the world's foremost optimist, which might have helped when putting myself inside Acatl's mind (who isn't particularly noted for his positive outlook on things either).

The story behind how you came to be a published author is well documented. It’s a great story: your flight back from the World Fantasy Convention in Canada was delayed and you were stuck in the same hotel as literary agent John Berlyne and Marc Gascoigne who, at the time, was about to start up Angry Robot, a science fiction and fantasy imprint, then under HarperCollins.

While this was part luck, the fact is you were at the fantasy convention in the first place and outgoing enough to have a conversation with strangers -- not to mention able to pitch your ideas without warning.

Were you at all prepared to pitch an agent and publisher?

It does make for a great story... I think of myself as fairly shy, so it was a surprise to find out, when I started going to cons, that I could actually be sociable enough to engage strangers in conversation without warning. Having shared interests in the field of SF actually helped a lot when it comes to engaging conversations--I could hold my own in a discussion, and didn't feel utterly lost. The other thing that helped me was, perversely, my being shy: I was far more interested in making people talk about themselves than talking about myself, which doesn't make for great self-promotion, but does make for great conversations. Most people will willingly talk about themselves and their projects, and I learnt tons of great things that way. Now I'm more experienced at this, and I can usually have a two-way conversation, but back in 2008, I couldn't manage it all at the same time.

Coming back to World Fantasy, I was prepared to pitch to an agent or a publisher; though, if I remember correctly, I didn't manage much pitching during the convention itself. As I said, I'm shy; so when I met both Marc and John I mostly engaged them in conversations about who they were and what they were doing; even after I found out who they were I was reluctant to pitch, as I was afraid this would be perceived as too forward. As I recall, the original pitch offer came from Marc, who basically said "well, we're here, we're bored, why don't you pitch to us" (and sent my heart racing at 100 mph). That was when I fell back on the only thing I had, which was the original pitch. So, yes, definitely a lot of luck, but without that preparation I would have been lost.

What lessons are there in this story for aspiring writers?

To an aspiring writer, I'd say that the most important thing is the writing. Once you get past that, the last 10% is the presentation: you need to be able to talk about what you're writing with enough clarity and passion; and it's not only for agents and publishers, it's also for everyone who will ask you the dreaded, "Ah, you're a writer. So, what do you write?" question at parties, at work, in your family... I don't think it's indispensable, but it's certainly helped me a lot to be able to condense books into fast pitches; to write clear and legible synopses; and to prepare query letters. But it's the sort of thing that only comes with a lot of practise: I was writing for ten years before I finally became able to write a decent query.

And now back to your books: how has writing about an ancient world steeped in magic changed the way you view modernity around you?

Ha. I think again, that it's the reverse. As I've said above, I've always had a healthy scepticism about modernity. I'm not saying the past was a golden age (it certainly was not, and when I see, for instance, the status of women even forty years ago, I'm very glad I'm not living in those times); but I don't think today's world is better, either. The rise of individualism, the way our society over-values youth at the expense of old age, our blind worship of science... I don't think any of those are healthy developments, and I definitely hope that we come to realise that those, too, could bear questioning.

Out of all the modern developments, which one do you find the most disconcerting?

Probably the one that has me most worried is the worship of science. I suppose it's because I'm a scientist and I can see the seams (and, as someone interested in history, I can also see the way our science framework evolved from Western ideology, which says to me that either there is a startling coincidence and the way we view reality coincides with our way of thinking; or this is an indication that the framework itself is flawed, in that it might give good results, but starts from false or simplified premises--it wouldn't be the first time this had happened).

I'm also more than a little disturbed by the way some people decry blind faith in God, and proceed to believe in scientific results with the same blind faith. To be sure, there are conceptual differences between religion and science (though I think their "incompatibility" is largely end-of-19th century anti-clerical propaganda that we've never quite shaken off), but you can't just blindly believe in something no matter how sound it might seem when seen from afar. Every system of thought has its limits, and for me one of the great things about science is when we're conscious of said limits, and ever open to changing our minds and making things evolve.

What's next for you?

Well, Master of the House of Darts will be released at the beginning of November, and should wrap up the Obsidian and Blood trilogy: all the books are standalones, but as this was the last one I wrapped up as many of the dangling plot arcs as I could--and gave the trilogy an ending I hope will satisfy readers. Also, I put my main character Acatl through the wringer; but that's only to be expected in book 3 of a trilogy!

Next, my agent is shopping around Foreign Ghosts, a novel set in an alternate history universe where China discovered America before Europe, and radically changed the history of the world (the setting for my Nebula and Hugo nominated "The Jaguar House, in Shadow". And I'm putting what I hope will be the finishing touches on a novella set on a Vietnamese space station, which should read a bit like Dreams of Red Mansions in space (complete with AIs, genetic modifications, and robots).

[Erin · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was definitely a fitting end to the trilogy. Easily one of the best parts was the ongoing theme that there are so many things going on that are completely outside of humanity's control and that, when dealing with a delicate balance and a pantheon full of capricious, bloodthirsty gods, there frequently is no right thing to do, just a succession of increasingly more or less awful ones. The characters have to make a lot of hard choices, and Acatl in particular is constantly second-guessing himself when that thing he did that he thought was saving everyone from the worst possible thing that could happen instead manages to lead into some new calamity.

There was also Acatl's mentorship of Teomitl; it was in this book that he finally acknowledged that, being a celibate member of the clergy who would never have children of his own, he had come to love Teomitl as a son. Along with that, though, he also had to accept that all children eventually grow up and go their own way regardless of what their parents and mentors might have wanted or planned for them; that the time when he would be able to claim the authority of a teacher was long since past, and he could only ask, as one man to another. I like that Acatl had to own up to his own mistakes, that he admitted that it was partly thanks to his actions that Teomitl had been driven to do the things that he did, and that, in the end, he was still incredibly proud of the man he knew that Teomitl would become.

I had some complaints in the previous books that the political entanglements could be somewhat difficult to follow, but for some reason this one went down quite a bit easier. Maybe it's because there were fewer factions and the main motivation was significantly more singular and straightforward, but whatever the reason, it was a lot clearer what was going on.

There was one major downside: I'm not sure whether I just didn't notice before or what, but this book seems to be significantly more poorly-edited than its predecessors. Among the issues are typos, dropped words, dropped spaces, incorrect punctuation, and at least two instances of a character "pooling" his raft (pretty sure that was supposed to be "poling"). It's not exactly huge in the grand scheme of things, but... get a better editor. Please.

[Wrong Train, Right Time · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have less and less to say as the series goes on since, well, I zoomed through the second and third books so quickly and because all the good stuff from Book 1 continues and holds up well as it goes through. In a way, the trilogy feels more like one big book in my mind rather than three separate books.

The main threat in Master of the House of Darts is plague. It's an interesting choice of threat in that it plays on Acatl’s ongoing reluctance to rest and not let himself be run into the ground. Suddenly, that persistent and endearing little flaw becomes a much more serious weakness, even a threat to everyone around him, due to the nature of plague and sickness. Just an interesting reflection on him.

One thing I quite liked about this book is how the previous book comes back to doom Acatl and in fact his allies. The solution to the previous book winds up being the problem in this one. Overall I found this book to be much more intricately tied to Book 2 than Book 2 was tied to Book 1; 2 and 3 feel more like halves of the same novel than discrete adventures. I feel like the trilogy could be more accurately divided up into two parts: Book 1, and then Book 2+3. I wonder if this is an artifact of the trilogy format? It gets harder to keep individual episodes in an ongoing series completely standalone, not if one wants any kind of continuity or character development. Hmm. Something to think about.

I realize now that I have said very little about Teomitl, Acatl's sort-of apprentice and a very important supporting characters, especially in this book. I guess he didn't make much of an impact on me, not even his slowly changing relationship with Acatl. I was, it must be said, far more interested in the mysteries, the world, and Acatl's struggles with both. Again, possibly an artifact of the speed with which I read the books. Perhaps on a reread I'll have more leisure time to devote to examining Teomitl and his progress over the books.

Still, overall a really interesting set of reads. I'm glad I took the plunge and bought them. I look forward to reading Aliette de Bodard's other novels in other universes.

[Jessica G · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first read this book about a year ago. I have not stopped thinking about it since. The FEELINGS. The EMOTIONS. The ENDING...which is annoyingly rushed, and the only reason I don't give it a full five stars. (Well, that and how badly Bodard needed a copyeditor.) Like...yes, okay, Acatl has an incredibly cool confrontation in the underworld where he has to put all his faith in his sister to perma-kill a dead king's ghost at the feet of his god. That's great! I love it! But then the very last chapter is a deeply emotional confrontation between Acatl and Teomitl where Acatl finally comes to the conclusion that Tizoc really does have to die and sees Teomitl as a man instead of a child in need of protection or guidance, and Teomitl agrees to wait a few years for Tizoc's reign to sort of stabilize before committing fratriregicide. And they have a whole meeting on the temple steps afterwards and there are FEELINGS* and AUGH...and this is, I must stress, the last chapter. To be clear, I still loved it, but we really needed an epilogue. A hug. Something.

...In fact, probably a lot of the Teomitl-focused angst in this book might've been solved with a hug. Squish your local angry ahuitzotl boy today.

* "like a son," Acatl says, but really am I the only one who ships it?

[Macha · Rating 4 out of 5]

excellent, and rousing, ending for the Obsidian and Blood trilogy, which focuses on the Aztec empire. meticulously researched and detailed, the world comes alive, and the (often historical) characters in it are well drawn: complex, and in general duplicitous, often navigating the often conflicting interests of the religious orders and the military complex to secure personal goals. within this society Acatl, High Priest of the Dead, must solve his murder mysteries, find out what caused a plague, wield magic, wisdom, and even sacred knives in skirmishes with some outsized personalities (including gods), while stepping lively amidst the politics, in the interest of maintaining the balance in both worlds, above and below.

[AJ Kerrigan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Solid ending to a fine series

I enjoyed this whole series - the way it mixes detective noir feel with Aztec-themed fantasy really works for me. I listened to most of this, and found John Telfer's narration to be a perfect fit for the story and Acatl's voice in particular. I can't imagine Acatl's "I don't have time for this shit" tone read by anyone else.

I did need to switch to e-book mode and/or look characters up at times. There are so many similar-sounding names that I occasionally had flashbacks to reading The Silmarillion and repeatedly consulting its index of names. The fact that many names don't look how they sound makes it a touch trickier, but to be clear that's my problem not the book's.

[bkwurm · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is last book in the trilogy and deals with the consequences of decisions taken in book 2 as well as those taken well before the events in the trilogy.

The Mexica empire is under supernatural attack again. The Revered Speaker is proving to be less than capable and Acatyl, High Priest of the Dead, finds that the one he trusted most may no longer be reliable.

Great story and an interesting look at a completely different culture and value system where sacrifice and especially blood sacrifice is treated as perfectly normal. What was jarring, however, was the author's choice to use the modern name Jimsonweed instead of finding some alternative.

[Bec · Rating 4 out of 5]

The thing about this series - the world building, the culture, the people - it’s all incredibly intricate and fascinating. I’d love to know more! But as mysteries - which is what these books are at their very foundations - they are terrible. I don’t know how much is on me and how much is on the author; but even I, a life-long mystery lover and solver, could not so much as even hazard the most terrible of vague suspicions until 5 seconds after everything had already been revealed. It’s almost certainly why I struggled to stay invested and why these books couldn’t get a hook into me, but I still can’t bear to give them less than 4 stars. I hope the short stories are better balanced.

[Christopher · Rating 4 out of 5]

Awesome conclusion to the Obsidian & Blood trilogy.

"He radiated a serenity that was almost uncanny - something I knew all too well, the growing detachment of those about to lay down their lives for the continuation of the world. One by one, he would be cutting the bonds that tied him to the Fifth World, preparing himself to die in the Southern Hummingbird's name - just as the gods themselves had died in the beginning of the Fifth Age, to bring forth life from the barren earth, and move Tonatiuh the Fifth Sun across the Heavens." -Aliette de Bodard

[Andy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have loved this series for a couple of years now. The author does such a good job of setting the scene of the Aztec empire and I love her protagonist Acatil. The mystery this time was interesting, but I didn't like all the tension between Acatil and his former student Teomitl. Their relationship was one of the best parts of the first two stories. I do think this is the weakest of the bunch although I still enjoyed it and wish the author had written more.
Warnings for self-harm for religious reasons and animal/human sacrifice.

[Birte · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5/5

A good conclusion to an interesting series, although the characters annoyed me so much throughout the novel, without a lot of pay-off in that regard. Storywise and historically speaking I understand why a certain character couldn't have been killed but I do wish that one certain person had.

One highpoint was definitely Mihmatini and if the author would write again in this world, following her, I would love that.

[Allison Widder · Rating 3 out of 5]

Kind of a meh ending for a series I overall really enjoyed! Would have been nice to see some more growth from the constantly overly cautious protagonist as well. Still recommend for interesting world building in a non-European setting, generally well realized characters and magic based storytelling without a hint of romance (not that I’m always against it but I generally like my fantasy to just be about gods and monsters and magic and not like romance with a magical backdrop)