WORLDMAKER OF YAND-YILDUN

In this debut fantasy, a powerful, winged humanoid defends her planet from interstellar enemies while trying to start a family.

As a centuries-old “worldmaker,” Yanara can “bend stuff.” She, for example, bends a moon out of orbit to block the k’tul, purple-blooded baddies from outer space who have attacked Yand. This puts her home planet in a perpetual eclipse, which infuriates Yand’s queen. To avoid another “Big Bend” disaster, the queen opts to “tether” Yanara with the birth of a daughter. This might be a problem: No worldmaker has survived giving birth to a girl, as baby worldmakers grow wings and kill their mothers when emerging. Regardless, Yanara appeases the queen; she marries a man (or two) and, by chance, genuinely falls for Mandolen, who becomes her wife. After years with no child, Mandolen pines for a family with Yanara, who she feels is “not really trying” with her husbands. But as some say there can only be one worldmaker at a time, can both Yanara and her daughter survive childbirth? Meanwhile, it turns out Yanara’s defense of Yand didn’t wipe out the k’tul. These vicious beings occasionally pop up, making formidable opponents for Yanara, Mandolen, and their fellow military-trained soldiers. Elia packs this entertaining tale with such genre trademarks as dragons, abilities like “mindspeak,” and Yanara’s use of wormholes for shortcuts. There’s plentiful action, though the story favors the growing family’s melodrama. The hero’s first-person narration comes across as abrasive and indifferent. But there’s no malice, and Yanara’s compassion often shines through. She repeatedly calls Frost, the only husband she loves, a “moron,” but it’s an unquestionably affectionate term. Unfortunately, narrative particulars are scant, as Yanara doesn’t seem interested in providing any: “Need I describe all the food these guys ate?” Similarly, the author’s stylized dialogue exchanges resemble concise conversations in a film script, complete with cursory and sometimes unnecessary stage directions—“Me: (confused) Now?”

A memorable hero elevates this diverting but sparsely detailed story.