MOONSHINE

The lives and fates of mortals and faeries grow precariously intertwined in mid-19th-century Northern England in Trent’s fantasy novel.

When young Elizabeth’s imaginary friends (“fae-treefolk”) didn’t simply go away as the girl grew older, her parents had her temporarily committed to an asylum. Now married and the mother of 2-month-old twin daughters, Elizabeth doesn’t plan on telling anyone about any supernatural creatures she may see; the faeries, however, over in their realm of Elphame, have eyes on the mortal woman. Queen Oonagh of the Seelie Court sends her servant Titwell to observe Elizabeth’s daughters. As anticipated by Oonagh and her court, one of the infants shows signs of magic—likely the one described in a prophecy. The girl is taken to Elphame and replaced with a changeling, while Titwell stays in the human realm and continues watching the other twin. The citizens of Elphame want to know why Queen Oonagh has apparently violated her own edict, which stresses that humans and faerie folk should never mingle. Queen Maeve of the Unseelie Court sends a goblin to follow Titwell, and shape-shifting Rhys Bryhana, in his “human guise,” hopes to gather intel among the humans. Rhys connects with Elizabeth’s archaeologist husband, Nikolai, who’s currently on an expedition in Egypt. Back in England, Elizabeth, believing without a doubt that one of her daughters is a changeling, mourns her stolen baby. Titwell, still observing and newly sympathetic, feels he can help if he can just get a particular journal into Elizabeth’s hands, since an unbreakable “binding” prevents him from simply voicing the truth.

Trent’s novel, which launches a series, is unremittingly tense as a myriad of subplots reveal the characters’ often clashing agendas. Rhys is relatively neutral, having not sided with either queen; he’s unquestionably upset when Nikolai seems intent upon retrieving what Rhys knows is a faerie relic. The redcap goblin Groz outright bullies Titwell, whom he’s shadowing on Queen Maeve’s behalf; Elizabeth, who worries about telling her husband that she sees faeries, is already burdened by her overbearing mother, Helen, who’s been staying at her daughter’s cottage. Some villains are memorably menacing (the changeling’s “sharp, toothy grin” makes for a lasting image), while others aren’t as easy to identify; for example, human-friendly Seelie is the lighter of Elphame’s dual courts, but it’s the Seelie Queen who orders the abduction of an infant girl. This opening installment doesn’t allow much room for character development for Elizabeth, who’s shackled by her mother and societal expectations. The extensive supporting cast, however, gives the narrative a healthy boost of energy as it moves from one scene to the next in England, Egypt, and Elphame. The author graces the pages with elegant prose throughout the novel: “In scattered hollows and forgotten valleys, where the veil thinned like worn muslin, Earth and Elphame brushed one another…To human eyes such crossings looked like mist rising off moorland, or the way a forest seems to lean inward as though listening.”

A compelling, colorful tale that ushers in a world of mythical beings and endless deceptions.