The House of Rey is at war.

A House of Rage and Sorrow picks up where A Spark of White Fire, the first book of Sangu Mandanna’s Celestial Trilogy left off. Esme, the exiled princess raised as a servant, best archer in the cosmos, and mistress of the sentient warship Titania, no longer has any intention of helping her brother, Alexi, take back the crown of Kali. That dream ended when Alexi murdered Esme’s best friend, Rama.

Now, she’ll do whatever it takes to defeat the family she would once have given anything to be part of.

Influenced by The Mahabarata, one of the great Sanskrit epics (focusing on the war between two groups of cousins and the fates of princes and empires), I absolutely adore the way the gods walk among humans in Mandanna’s work as they do in those ancient tales. Gods who are rich in power and influence but as subject to jealousy, rage, and love as the humans in their care. In many works that transform deities into characters, their larger-than-life personalities and sweeping actions overwhelm the human element of the tale.

Not so here where, though powerful, the gods allow their charges latitude and free will to make their own mistakes, to choose the selfish path, to choose blood and violence. The gods in Mandanna’s work are sometimes petty, sometimes cruel, sometimes willing to sacrifice and are that much more real for being a bit like us.

Esme is a fantastic character to lead this narrative. She can be kind and gentle but also full of rage and gleeful at war. She can miss her family while recognizing what they have taken from her – that her mother cast Esme out, choosing her brothers over her. She can be absolutely sure of her course while still struggling with the need to be loved. Esme is not an easy character nor is she always likable, which makes her all the more human. Who among us is always virtuous? Who among us has never doubted? Who among us hasn’t struggled? There are so many ways to connect with Esme, be it through her physical journey or emotional one; readers are sure to find something of themselves in her.

To see this character love and be loved is a remarkable thing because Max loves her as she was and as she is – not for how she could be. That is a rare thing in genre fiction where, most often, we see either the badass female who has to be softened to be “worthy” of her partner’s attentions or the princess in the tower, loved because she is a source of gentleness and kindness in a harsh world.

Esme isn’t a symbol; she’s Esme and she is accepted as Esme, as she is and as she wishes to be. That is a powerful message to the young women who are the target demographic for A House of Rage and Sorrow and also for those of us who grew up with tropes and are only now truly finding ourselves in our favorite genres.

In addition, Esme isn’t the lone female in a group of war-making men, as is often the case in fantasy and sci-fi. She has a core group of female friends whom she trusts with her life and soul and who trust her in return. Who are willing to break with their own families to help Esme on her quest… even to fail for her. One of those women is a god, willing to make an incalculable sacrifice to save Esme’s life. And not all of the men are soldiers and warmongers. Esme’s uncle is willing to consider giving up his kingdom for the sake of peace, and Max has kept Esme’s brothers safe while they have sought his destruction.

No stereotypes here.

Also, let’s be honest, who doesn’t want a sentient warship that can take you anywhere and evaporate your enemies as a best friend?

With such complex characters and a wonderfully epic yet fully human narrative, it’s hard to believe so many have slept on this series. I recommended A Spark of White Fire to every sci-fi and fantasy reader I know and here I am, doing the same with A House of Rage and Sorrow.

Read. These. Books. People.

Now.

Go.

Why are you still here?