THE BRIDGE TO MAGIC

Thornbury’s debut YA fantasy novel features a girl on the run fighting to suppress her forbidden magic in a dying world.

The fantastical realm of Seramight is slowly succumbing to the Blight, a creeping malaise that kills anything it touches. When the city of Drasdark falls, only Terren remains, a final, multicultural refuge of haves and have-nots nestled between a long-drained sea and a bottomless chasm that separates the world of men from the magic-infused Deadlands. A single bridge—which is a living organism—spans the intervening gap. Those who tire of life may cross it, either dying at the midpoint or passing on and receding by degrees into the bleakness beyond. None ever return. Elika, who is 15 years old, watches the bridge, identifying those who cross so that her pack of street orphans can loot that person’s lodgings for coin and food. Life in Terren is hard, but Eli is surviving. Terren’s priests have long blamed magic for the Blight; to this end, they have decreed the living bridge’s destruction, but all attempts have failed. Eli, however, wounds it when she stabs it. This reveals her to be not merely infected with magic (an “Echo” in the local parlance), but a creature in full possession of it. Suddenly, the Blight hastens its encroachment. The people of Terren turn against the Echoes, first purging them with blood-salt before resorting to more violent measures. Eli wants her magic gone, yet she cannot rid herself of it—the harder she tries, the worse the situation becomes. Is there no way she can save herself, her pack, and her city?

The author writes in the third person, past tense from Eli’s perspective. The prose is a proficient blend of narrative action, inner reflection, and mostly naturalistic dialogue. Eli is an unusual protagonist: On the one hand she exhibits standard heroic traits (courage, determination, loyalty, compassion). On the other, she rails fiercely against her expected role. Rather than embracing the power within her, she clings stubbornly to what she’s been taught, risking her life and submitting to torture in her efforts to be cleansed. Thornbury’s depiction of magic—and Eli’s true nature—is as artful as the plot is pessimistic. There is little to feel good about in the barbaric acts the people of Terren suffer as the Blight approaches. The author neither glosses over these atrocities nor revels in them; instead, the reader is presented with a morose, almost moribund sense of inevitability. Humanity’s plight goes from bad to worse, ever spiraling downward. The effect is cheerless yet oddly refreshing in a genre that so often fails to make good on its threats. Eli’s journey can be read as a parallel to the emotional progression of one caring for a terminally ill relative. She passes through stages of loss, and the end is a foregone conclusion, yet it brings a kind of catharsis, clearing the way for new beginnings. Hard-bitten fantasists should approve.

A grim and despairing yet elegiac fantasy tale and unsentimental testament to humanity’s enduring spirit.