[Review by a nonbinary reader]
The open sea: a liminal space in society and a prime spot to go wild with queer stories. The Wicked Bargain executes this well, and I really enjoyed setting sail with this protagonist.
I'm going to first discuss the only real weakness I noticed in this book, because it's largely negligible in the plot - the romance with Bas, when Dami the genderfluid, wickedly infuriating demonio, was right there. I found Bas boring and pretty one-dimensional; Mar's interactions with Dami hold so much more passion and reactivity. Not to mention the fact that Dami's powers enable Mar to really live as themselves in the end. For large parts of the plot, Mar is alone but for Bas, and yet...Nothing colored him in, for me. Gah. I loved Dami, who swishes around in skirts, corsets, heavy eyeliner, and an ever-changing silhouette. Gender goals. That said, the romance is not the most important love in this story; that falls to Mar and Bas' love for their fathers and crews, and Mar's own self-love and acceptance.
The bricks and mortar of this story, the settings and descriptions, were very well done, rendered vivid with stellar writing. I could feel the deck swaying beneath my feet, smell the salty sea air for the scenes at sea. I also really appreciated the descriptions of outfits, a personal favorite inclusion of mine in any book. And the action scenes were incredibly well done, from storms at sea to underwater battles to covert missions in prisons. I also found the frequent Spanish woven skillfully into the prose very immersive, although admittedly, I was listening to the audiobook, which I suspect might be the superior medium for this story. Vico Ortiz did an AMAZING job narrating this story.
Now, to the most significant part of the book for me: the nonbinary, transmasc protagonist. Firstly, kudos to the production for getting Vico as the narrator, fitting perfectly. As a reader very close to the protagonist's labeling, it was incredible to read a story that I related to so strongly, from Mar worrying about their chest bindings to hating parts of their body. What I found incredible was that for much of the story, Mar's magic serves as a partial metaphor for their gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, and trans identity, something to be endured and concealed at all costs. They see who and what they are as problematic, until the end, when they both accept their magic and are able to embrace their body [magical top surgery was not on my bingo card for this book, and while I have issues with a 'magical fix', Mar's resulting euphoria was joyous to read].
It's worth reading the author's note, too; Novoa doesn't wish to rehabilitate the reputation of real-life slave-owning pirates, and so didn't include any actual pirates in the characters. This is fascinating, as anyone fans of Our Flag Means Death has probably seen the discourse surrounding this concept.
Overall I enjoyed this a lot and very strongly recommend it to fans of queer pirate stories.