I received this novel as a free ARC from Netgalley.
This book is ….odd. It seems to be almost two separate stories, strung together at the middle.
For the first half of the novel, Piper and Quinn, twins reunited after a lifetime of mysterious separation, hash out their family issues in a suburban, ordinary setting following the death of their mother. It’s a strong exploration of family bonds, guilt, and the fact that perhaps none of us truly know our parents. It’s all very Jodi Picoult – thought provoking rather than exciting -- and there’s a dash of romance thrown in.
Then, just when I was starting to wonder if this book actually contained any fantasy elements whatsoever or was just a YA contemporary, boom. The twins up and leave for Dartmoor (ooooh #spooky). The dad, who initially seems like he may have a large supporting role in the novel, is forgotten entirely, and the ‘family reconciliation’ plot which seemed to have been developing basically goes with him. Without forewarning, chapters begin to be bookended by dreams of DEMON HOUNDS FROM HELL TEARING HUMAN FLESH!!! Lol guess what guys, THIS is the actual whole point of the story!!!
Jarring? Yes. Disjointed? A little.
It doesn’t help how there’s basically no supporting cast outside of Piper, Quinn, and Piper’s doggedly adoring boyfriend Zak, who is basically the Ultimate Hufflepuff Extraordinaire. He is sent out across the moors on regular missions to find important supplies, such as Piper’s spare clothes.
Unfortunately, whilst Terry’s talent for dialogue worked well in the initial family drama scenario, she is weak on description. Dartmoor is given no sense of atmosphere; and mate, it’s Dartmoor, how on earth did you eff that one up?!
Due to the lack of sense of place to the world the twins now find themselves in, I’m starting to suspect that Terry hasn’t even ever been to Dartmoor. This sucks, because we’re supposed to be creeped out, intrigued, and awed by the mysterious, evil beauty of the moors, which provide the basis for the entire second half of the novel.
Infact, the entire witch storyline suffers from a serious case of underdevelopment. Instead of using Dartmoor as an opportunity to really dig into the rich mythological and witching history of the south of England, a hotchpotch of ideas are thrown in at abandon. There’s the Wild Hunt, some enchanted trees, and a book which makes curses come true. Occasionally a fox pops up as a sort of stalker/spirit animal, but not for any real reason. Oh yeah, and Quinn can call up demon-beasts made of dirt! Surprise bitch! But that only happens once as a plot device to prove that she has powers, and what the beasts are, or how she was able to do it, is never specified.
Essentially, there is no underlying magical theory, or exploration of broader local mythology or historical magical traditions to make these elements feel coherent. Consequently, it’s impossible to feel absorbed by the magical world. #InfiniteSads
Quinn’s demon-beast scene provides a good example of how a lack of any knowledgeable engagement with Dartmoor’s natural landscape leaves the book feeling hollow.
"There is a climbing plant on the wall with red berries."
Terry doesn’t even go to the effort of to specify the actual name of a plant when she’s discussing an actual spell, which seems like such an unspokenly fundamental element to witchcraft that its omission is bizarre. Here was a simple chance to provide a scene with a bit of colour and historical depth rooted in real nature gone to waste – and the whole book is like this. Its world just doesn’t have any depth.
Okay, maybe this is making me sound like I have an unhealthy obsession with plants. But we have to talk about the cringe worthy Wild Hunt nightmare scenes.
"Arrrroooooo! We howl as one when we catch the sweet sense of prey on the wind."
There’s also:
"They’re creeping up the stairs, then into my room. Their howling – arooooooo! –is so loud that it fills my head, turns my inside to liquid."
We also get these classic variations:
"Arooo-oooo!" (I guess the hell hounds got hiccups)
And
"Arooooo! Arooooo!" (This one isn’t a hell hound, it’s actually just the horn of Gondor.)
We get a grand total of eight arrooos, which in my opinion is approximately eight arrooos more than was necessary. Needless to say, this did not make me afraid. This made me want to spit my hot choc over the laptop.
Note to authors. There is no need to interrupt your exposition to make animal noises. I am perfectly capable of imagining what a bloody great murderous doggo sounds like myself, thanks. Unless you are Enid Blyton. Then you have special dispensation.
On the flipside, the book’s greatest strength is the mirror POVs of Piper and Quinn. (A tiny quibble – Piper and Quinn are two pretty American sounding names, but whatever.) Terry definitely has a skill for building strong personalities for her protagonists, and of creating delightfully unreliable narrators. Can I just put it out there – I absolutely loved Piper. Quinn is great, sure, she’s determined, good hearted under a spiny exterior and I was definitely rooting for her. But Piper is just so deliciously ruthless. Watching her preppy, good girl façade slowly be peeled away throughout the novel, to reveal the manipulative, corrupted witch within was an absolute treat. Piper is powerful; she revels in her darkness, but she also loves Zak and her sister fiercely, and fully believes in the righteousness of what she is doing. And you know what? You start to believe her. Now that is the sign of an excellent antihero.
As for the other characters however, Zak is a weak link. He’s overwhelmingly nice, endlessly annoyingly patient and forgiving of Piper, and that’s basically his only character trait. Things become a little bit more understandable towards the end, but this doesn’t stop him from being a massive wet blanket. It also doesn’t stop him from being a character who exists only as a plot device to create romantic conflict between the two sisters. And although the romance between Zak and Quinn in particular is sweetly written, without his own story arc, I couldn’t help but just wish that Zak would buzz off and leave the twins to play mind games on each other alone.
The twin’s Gran, whilst interesting initially, suffers from a chronic case of ‘I’m not going to tell you crucial information because plot reasons’ which soon renders her extremely boring and annoying. There is literally no reason for her to hide the truth from Piper and Quinn other than to drag the book’s reveal out as long as possible. In fact, as hiding her secret pointlessly leads to bad consequences (hint: pretty damn bad), her decision is simply downright stupid. [SPOILER] At the end, instead of just simply destroying the dangerous heritage which she is desperate to hide from the twins, she puppet-masters a fight to the death between them over said heritage. After trying to protect them from this exact thing for the entire novel!?? Seriously??? What??!
To me this was the plot’s most glaring problem, but there is another. After the twin’s mum goes to all the effort of splitting them up, deciding that Quinn is Evil and taking Piper as far away as she can from her dangerous heritage… why would she leave Piper the Blackwood surname so that she can go back to find said heritage? To me this was an enormous and ridiculous paradox. It’s a little disappointing that the twins don’t ever actually perform any magic, and after all this shilly shallying about heritage, [SPOILER] their heritage turns out to just be a naff old Death Note... I mean, Book of Lies.
There’s also a mildly problematic vindication of child abuse, as Quinn forgives her grandmother for using her as an indentured servant, verbally abusing her and not even allowing her to attend school or read fiction books for eighteen years, because oh you know what? Granny secretly loved her all along. Well guess what mate. When you’re up against the county magistrate because your neglected and traumatised child is being removed from your care by social services, the fact that you ‘secretly’ loved them is not going to do you much good.
Ultimately, the solution to the mystery of the twins’ story is pretty basic. The twin who is initially set up as the good twin is revealed to be the evil twin?! No way!
To be fair to Terry, this is a bit of a damned if you do/damned if you don’t situation. This twist is cliché enough that I called it after reading only the blurb, which definitely takes away the excitement. However, without any twist, the book would be so straightforward that… well… it would have been boring. Fortunately, at the end, things become a little more complex between the two sisters, leaving the novel on a perhaps surprisingly dark and ambiguous ending.
Overall, my strongest feeling towards this book has got to be a solid ‘meh’. If you’re interested in twins, and family dramas, the loving but ultimately doomed conflict between the well written, engaging protagonists will keep you interested throughout the novel. But you will have to pinch your nose and squint your eyes to ignore the blurriness and inconsistency of the world and the plot within which they find themselves.