Anything in the “Tuyo” series is an auto-buy for me at this point, whether it’s part of the main story arc (so far, “Tuyo,” “Tarashana,” and “Tasmakat”) or one of the numerous side stories or novellas. Actually, I might enjoy the side stories even more than the main arc, because of how they dig into little slices of such a fascinating world and are so concerned with the small, seemingly-inconsequential actions of normal people and how those efforts combine to affect the world, for good or ill. It’s such a refreshing break from standard epic fantasy stories, concerned with the fates of nations, continents or entire worlds, to take some time in a story where the personal stakes are no less high, but the entire universe doesn’t hang in the balance.
“Marag” is a prequel book, the story of how the parents of the main arc’s central characters, Ryo, met, established a bond of mutual trust and respect, and married. The problem with prequels is that by design, you already know how the story ends, and that knowledge can remove some of the urgency or tension. The way to combat this is to ensure that the journey is still compelling even when you know the eventual destination. Sometimes this doesn’t work, as in the Star Wars prequel trilogy—you already know Anakin Skywalker will become Darth Vader, but what should have been an exploration of a good person’s fall to evil is hampered by poor storytelling and some really lousy writing. Fortunately, “Marag” succeeds in navigating this trap: it is simultaneously a love story, a study of two characters and how they relate to each other and to their culture, and an adventurous mystery when it becomes clear that something supernaturally bad is going on nearby.
Sinowa and Marag are familiar side characters from previous “Tuyo” books. Here we see them younger and before they are quite as established as leaders of their people. Sinowa is a strong warrior, with pride verging on arrogance, unmarried after his first wife’s untimely death. Marag is a gifted young singer who has avoided marriage past the usual point for an Ugaro woman, to the point where her unmarried status has begun to hinder her social standing. It’s easy to draw a line between who they are in this book and who they become in later books; all the seeds are there for them to overcome their initial problems and grow into respected leaders. They each have their own challenges, which they face together in as much a way as the social structure of the Ugaro tribes allow: Sinowa gets involved in another tribe’s difficulties rearing their young men to behave properly, while Marag is instrumental in easing a mysterious curse of ill luck that has taken root nearby. The scene of the curse finally lifting nearly brought me to tears, not quite as much as a similar scene in “Tano” (one that also involved Marag!) but just about. It was just some beautiful, evocative writing.
One of the things I find most interesting about Ugaro culture in these books is how it is so focused on nature and nurture. For a quote-unquote “savage” society, it is extremely focused on proper, respectful behavior, with an emphasis on everyone staying strictly within the bounds of propriety, based on community role, gender, age, and social standing. But a person’s nature is equally important, as is being able to read people. Sinowa is particularly good at recognizing that not everyone is suited for every task; his storyline’s conflict arises from another person who is not adept at that recognition. The book’s final scene shows Ryo as an infant, along with some foreshadowing of the new path he will forge among both his people and the neighboring Lau, and to both his parents’ credit they realize that this is what may be best for everyone.
This is definitely not the book anyone new to the series should start with, but it’s a real treat for those who stick with the series. “Tano” is still my favorite and probably will be for a while, at least until another Tano book comes out, but “Marag” is a lovely, insightful, and moving story and I enjoyed every bit of it.