This first installment in Magnusson’s projected middle-grade duology follows a teenage boy who dreams of being a knight but learns that he’s destined for much more.

Thirteen-year-old Ettan and his younger brother, Gerit, are orphans whom King Sarlamon, the ruler of Gorum, took in. To honor his friendship with the boys’ late father, the king gave the boys jobs and a place to live; currently, both Ettan and Gerit oversee the Royal Hennery. Raising chickens and selling eggs is an honorable profession, but Ettan aspires to a career as a knight. To that end, he’s training for the upcoming Battle Games, in which victorious combatants can prove their worth as potential knights. Meanwhile, the kingdom of Gorum has been at war with neighboring Norvar for three years, and the bloody conflict has reached a stalemate. With tensions high, many residents of Gorum just want the war to end, but a secret group of conspirators (led by wealthy landholder Lord Geldstone and power-hungry religious leaders) is plotting a coup that would essentially turn the kingdom of Gorum into a tyrannical church-state. A growing movement called First Kingdom, promoting fear and hatred of “foreigners,” adds another layer of complexity to Ettan’s struggle, as he was born in Norvar. When the king sends Ettan on a top-secret mission, the boys’ lives are turned upside down. Not only is the world a much bigger place than Ettan ever realized, but it’s also filled with people who value gold and power over honor and decency—and one such person abducts Ettan before his grand adventure can truly begin.

Many elements of Magnusson’s novel are noteworthy, including its brisk pacing and relentless intensity, which make it difficult to put down. The character development is also exceptional, as all the main players have deep, relatable story arcs that address Ettan’s search for answers about his late father’s mysterious life, Gerit’s entrepreneurial acumen, and the struggle of Lord Geldstone’s son, Drogue, to separate himself from his immoral father and find his own path. The novel’s secret weapon, though, is its courageous exploration of weighty and timely topics, including racism, xenophobia, and the rise of authoritarian regimes. Numerous sequences are chilling in their examination of an extremist political landscape: “Once a community believes something, it becomes self-reinforcing,” says the Veritarch, a religious figure, to Drogue at one point. “If a man were presented with a fact that proved what I said was a lie, that man would be faced with a difficult choice. If he told this fact to his community, his community would reject him. They would think that he was lying.” The brilliance of the novel is in the author’s presentation of such ideas, which offers social commentary in the natural flow of the narrative. Along the way, young readers will be able to process the characters’ decisions and actions on their own and come up with their own conclusions.

A page-turning and thought-provoking adventure that insightfully explores a range of important issues affecting young people’s lives.

An empowering comic book focuses on how to prevent and deal with bullying.

Magnusson (Bitopia, 2012) and illustrator Marathas provide dynamic panels, comic-style fonts, and multicultural characters who speak directly to the reader in this anti-bullying guide. Zoey and Max, two preteen kids, instruct readers on how to help themselves and one another—“You and your classmates are really the ones who decide how to treat each other”—while indicating when to ask an adult for help (for example, when children mention harming themselves). Beginning with a section for students in kindergarten through second grade, Zoey and Max define bullying by describing how it makes someone feel, then reassure kids that most children are never bullied. A key component to bullying is often an “aggressor’s” underlying anger or frustration toward a “target,” and finding out why they feel that way can diffuse the situation: “You don’t have to say you did what the person said you did. But you can still help the person feel better.” Effective apologies are reiterated throughout the volume, including when the aggressor’s anger is justified: “Say you are sorry. Say what you are sorry for. Let the person know he or she has a right to be mad. Say you will not do [it] again.” For older children, as relationships become more complicated, Zoey and Max redefine bullying as “dominance aggression” or “relational aggression” and offer useful advice for handling both by encouraging self-confidence and thoughtful, one-on-one interaction. Creative page arrangements, including Zoey and Max breaking out of their panels, visually reinforce direct engagement. A helpful “Find Your Section” page points kids to chapters on helping someone else who is being bullied, learning ways to interact with aggressors, stopping someone from bullying, or teaching an adult how to help effectively. Online bullying-prevention tips—don’t email or text in anger, don’t take potentially embarrassing photos—prove useful at any age. Occasionally, jargon-heavy text miniaturizes characters beneath massive speech bubbles, but most of the book balances words and images nicely, lending a friendly, easy-to-understand tone to a serious subject.

Magnusson’s debut YA fantasy follows a young boy’s flight from the wrath of bullies, taking him to another world from which there may be no escape.

On the run from bullies, new kid at school Stewart seeks refuge down a storm drain. He winds up lost in a maze of pipes until he steps out into a lush forest and the drain pipe entrance disappears. He encounters Cora, a young girl who takes him to a city hidden behind a great wall. Inside are only children, guided by a book written by the Forebears—the previous inhabitants—and fearing the tall, vicious Venators outside. The venerated book prophesizes a devastating final battle, but Stewart only wants a look at its pages in hopes of finding a way home. Magnusson’s novel is an allegory: The Venators, who merely beat their prey in lieu of killing them, are equated with bullies, while the children, who never age, are the perpetual embodiment of innocence. But Magnusson infuses the narrative with stunning imagery that wallops the senses—the cacophony of a construction site as Stewart passes by or the multitude of colors in the forest. Some of the descriptions are made all the more authentic through the impressionable eyes of a child: Stewart likens the landscape to emerald green ice cream covered with candy. Ample action and suspense, including the predicted conflict between the city and its skeletal enemies, help the plot retain a steady speed. The best moments involve Cora and Stewart running through the forest, dodging the Venators; the book even opens with Stewart midsprint. Despite a theme geared for younger readers and the unmistakable moral lesson of facing one’s fears head-on, the author surprises with somber, mature dialogue, as when the Princeps, the city’s female leader, states bluntly, “[W]e are fairly confident that we are no longer on the planet Earth.” For good measure, there are also talking animals, a protagonist who’s more than deserving of a cheering audience and a bittersweet ending, with a slightly greater emphasis on the sweet.

All the fun of a children’s book, coupled with the razor-sharp wit and potent insight that seasoned readers crave.