In this fantasy novella, the first of a duology, an acolyte’s religious beliefs are shaken to their core—and also, the world is in danger.
Five seasons after each of her peers was chosen by a divine orisha and rose to the priesthood, Ashâke remains an acolyte, never having heard an orisha speak to her. Frustrated and resentful, Ashâke decides to force the issue by attempting to summon an orisha in a forbidden ritual that goes horribly wrong. In the aftermath, Ashâke resolves to depart from the temple and the only life she’s ever known and strike out into the world; but can she truly leave her past behind? (Answer: No.) Meanwhile, a creepy organization whose members prolong their existence by permanently taking over other people’s bodies seems close to finding something it’s long been seeking. Ashâke is a vividly drawn and sympathetic character, as is Ba Fatai, the former priest turned cranky witch doctor. Ogundiran offers some lovely worldbuilding inspired by Nigerian (specifically, Yoruban) myth and religion; one great example is the friendly traveling griots with the power to physically immerse you in their stories, leading to a unique use of magic in a pivotal scene. But he also leans on a trope familiar to readers of European-based epic fantasies: The protagonist’s obvious lack of a specific ability that their peers possess means that they are actually more special than everyone else. (Mentioning that last might seem like a spoiler, but it should be fairly obvious to the reader, even if it isn’t to Ashâke, which is also often part of the trope.) But in a typical fantasy of that type, the revelations that unfold near the end of this tightly written novella would merely be Act 1 of a doorstopper-size work that would be the start of a trilogy, at minimum. Instead, the story stops just when things are getting really interesting, which is an excellent way of whetting the reader’s appetite for the second (and concluding) novella.
If not entirely groundbreaking, an enjoyable and commendably bloat-free read.