This was such an incredible book, and I don't say this lightly - Although I knew I could read this book within a day, I really didn't want to. Why? because when I got caught up in the story, the characters and the world building I honestly did not want this book to end. I grew so attached to the characters and all their complexities, alongside the tethering system and weathering system - which I honestly found absolutely fascinating. Arbeaux's has created something that I really feel is quite unique in this book, both in terms of story, the characters back story/narratives and the rich world building that exists on every page.

It's true that Sci-fi books can be hit or miss, but this was honestly an absolute HIT for me.

What was so wonderful about the characters were how raw and real they felt. Remy, our main character is complex - for reasons that we can both understand and still be annoyed about at times. We learn that his flaws very early on are really built round his unwillingness to see the bigger picture of what is happening around him several years after his brother Cam is murdered. As with everything, Remy only knows one side of the story in the beginning, and takes matters into his own hands that causes whole host of issues. His character redemption and growth throughout the book is what really makes you warm to him so much more, Don't even get me STARTED on how much I fell in love with Adrian's crew, every single one of them was unique and chaotic in their own way. The 'found family' trope in this really warmed my heart so much. The story itself really highlights how we ALL come with baggage as people, baggage that sometimes we aren't even aware we have it and often choosing what we do about our baggage (whether it's healing, or even trauma) determines how our life can play out in so many different ways. This book is essentially, put simply enough - a tale about bonds between people, and the impact these bonds can have.

Arceaux paints such an exceptional picture of the world building with her words, so much so that I could imagine every location we were in. There is such depth and detail put into the writing over all.

This was, overall, such a refreshing read for me. The focus on platonic relationships, queer and ace-representation, and a more HONEST look at what impact grief and revenge can have was truly gut wrenching for me.

Congrats on such a spectacular debut Arbeaux, for challenging the norm of what often exists in Sci-Fi narratives and giving us something so heartfelt and wonderful.

I can't wait for what comes next.

Review on goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/6526704398

4.5 stars

Thank you to the publisher for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Lord of the Empty Isles is a story about messy, intense queerplatonic relationships, grief, and found family juxtaposed with climate catastrophe, political corruption, and genocide. It explores how we define and justify sacrifice and pulls no punches when exploring the emotions conected to death, helplessness, and betrayal. This is definitely a book that requires attention to content warnings but, at the same time, there is a lot of moments of tenderness, healing, and grace.

We get amazing banter, loveable side characters, good character development, and a well crafted balance between humour and tragedy, entertainment and commentary.

I would have appreciated a bit more detail on the types of tethers and what they mean for the bonds between people. I think the concept is lot more complicated than what the story allowed to explore. However, I appreciate how creative and engaging the idea is.

Overall, this book had me hooked the whole time and made me feel very emotional. I definitely cried a bit at the end.

Mixing magic and sci-fi, this revenge/conspiracy story is compelling and engrossing once you accept the slightly confusing magic system will be explained more fully as you go along. Interesting and fun characters

Thank you netgalley for the arc!

I requested this book on a bit of a whim and wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but I ultimately was glad I did.

What sells Lord of the Empty Isles is that it immediately establishes dire and emotionally resonant stakes. From the first couple chapters, I was so locked in, it really didn't really matter what happened for the rest of the book, but luckily the rest of the book was pretty good too.

The main character, Remy, is seeking revenge on the criminal who killed brother. But, whoops! Their lives are linked and he cannot kill him without killing himself, and now the clock is ticking down on both of their lives. What ensues after is an introspection on love and loss, grief and healing, the value and undervaluing of a life.

Anything truly genuine can sometimes feel a little corny, but like I said, I was on board. The same can be said about some of the soap-opera-esque reveals. Like, yes they're a little melodramatic, but also?? Drama is a good thing when I like it. At the beginning of the novel, I thought it was paced too quickly, but by the end, I appreciated how the story unfolded and was paced. All the characters bloomed colorfully on the page, with complete inner lives and personalities. Found family is a little hit or miss for me, but top to bottom, this is a cast you can care for.

All debuts have some technical mishaps in terms of plot, but the heart of this book was in the right place. Not only that, but setting, magic system, character, and plot were all interconnected into theme with a captivating diligence. As someone who appreciates comprehensive thematics only second to character work, it was like a breath of fresh air to see both done so well. The novel lets you roll around the ideas it's introducing like the medicinal burn of a lozenge at the back of your tongue. And what a lozenge.

I requested Lord of the Empty Isles on a whim. It is the June GSFF special edition, and their edition is so pretty that it piqued my interest. The genre is Science Fiction Fantasy, which I didn’t know I was missing. I have problems getting into most Science Fiction books, but with this one, the Fantasy and Science Fiction were so intertwined that I found myself not wanting to stop reading.

Now, getting into the book, Remy has spent the last five years mourning the death of the brother who raised him. The story begins with Remy finally getting revenge on his brother’s murderer. The character growth is delightful, and I can’t think of anyone I disliked (other than those you are meant to dislike). My only gripe is that there were some coincidences in the storytelling that made things too easy and less believable.

There are relationships in the book but no main romance. While I do love a good romance, Remy is characterized as aroace, and if the author had casually given him a romance, it would have been a detriment to his character.

I loved this book, and while I haven’t decided yet, I think it is my favorite read of 2024 so far. I know I will be looking for more Science Fiction Fantasy and have this book to thank for that.

I received an eARC from Hodder & Stoughton/Hodderscape via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

I absolutely adored Lord of the Empty Isles, and was so excited to be able to read and review it early. This is a fantastic debut that will live on in my heart for a long time to come. Arbeaux is a master of characterization, and the grief and pain of these characters will nestle deep into your heart as you read. Highly recommended. I can't wait to read my preordered copy!

I'M SO LATE I'M SO LATE I'M SO LATE!!! I read this book back in...January? Was so overcome that I decided I needed to let it sit for a few days before I wrote a review...and here we are, in June, with the book releasing right now, and still no review. What can I say but that even now, ~4 months later, I still don't feel I can properly do it justice--and that even ~4 months later I still haven't stopped thinking or talking about or recommending this truly astonishing debut. This is comfortably one of my debuts of the year. Based on the marketing materials I was expecting a sweet, cosy, gentle story of healing; to my endless delight what I got instead was a heartwrenching, raw, pull-no-punches deep dive into the pain of loss, grief and revenge, and the way those emotions, unchecked, can completely ruin you. Jules Arbeaux is (already!!) a master of layering theme, and I was--and remain--so impressed with the depth and complexity with which they explore their thematic material, and how beautifully that's folded into both their external and internal arcs. The character work in general was exquisite--this is a deeply character-driven work--but they managed to simultaneously keep up a well-paced, gripping external plot alongside that meant I tore through I think well over half the book in a single setting. The worldbuilding was lush and rich, the magic system so elegant and (again!) thematically resonant, and I really must say it again: the THEMATIC WORK. UGH. I'm positive this is a book I will continue thinking about and rereading for years to come--and I'm so excited to see how this already tremendously talented author's career develops.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Hodderscape for the eARC in exchange for my review! It was a true privilege.

This one was outside of my normal reading, but I really enjoyed it. It is a sci-fi fantasy that is in turns visceral, heartbreaking, and beautiful; a tale of grief, revenge and the extent people are willing to go for those that they love. This was also a good read to kick off pride month as the main character, Remy, is aroace, and there is representation throughout the book. This isn't a romance, but a tale that involves platonic bonds of friendship and love at its core. Speaking of bonds, the soul bond system in the story was very well developed and explained and I found the concept so interesting. The characters felt real and the story was captivating. Just be warned that you will feel all of the feels.

I received an e-ARC from NetGalley and my opinion is my own , thank you NetGalley.

Wow, I think I read the first couple chapters over a couple of days and then spent all day today reading this. I absolutely loved this! It definitely gives some similar vibes to the Hunger Games and The 100 in a good way.

I am so in love with Idrian and Remy and all I really want now is a sequel - please????

HIGHLIGHTS
~comfy clothes > sexy clothes
~revenge gets ComplicatedTM
~hoverboard!!!
~platonic soulmates ftw
~on your own head be it if you fuck with the doctor

Lord of the Empty Isles is a book that completely defies expectations in some ways, while making use of well-worn – and well-loved – tropes in others. I mean, just mixing fantasy and sci fi in the same setting is still a rare thing (which it shouldn’t be: PUBLISH MORE SCIENCE FANTASY, PUBLISHERS!), and Arbeaux does so deftly, but Arbeaux has also written a story that elevates and celebrates non-romantic relationships – which might be even rarer than science fantasy.

And I loved it!

Aroace Remy is a citizen on the planet Verdine – a planet that, in the past, suffered complete climate collapse. But a lot of hard work has seen it recover, and now in the present day, people are not so much environmentally friendly so much as they are environmentally vigilant. Breaking any of the strict environmental laws – or the population laws that restrict each family to one child only – gets the convicted sent to the Empty Isles: Alta, Fluora, or Toxys. They’re not actually islands; they’re man-made moons, and way back when they held Verdine’s survivors while the planet healed enough to be able to support life again. But these days the moons (or Isles) are inescapable prisons, and the people who get sent there never come back.

This is very important.

Idrian Delaciel is a famous criminal who runs his operations out of the Isles. Five years before the book starts, he had Remy’s brother, Cam, killed. And in the opening pages, Remy finally gets what he needs to return the favour.

Here’s where the magic comes in: in this world, there are those who can see the bonds tying people together, and those who can, to a limited extent, manipulate them. The lore Arbeaux poured into this set-up is fascinating without being overwhelming; most of our information on the different kinds of bonds comes from the excerpts of an in-world text called On the Manipulation of Tethers, excerpts that kick off most chapters. To be honest, I would happily read On the Manipulation of Tethers in its entirety, if Arbeaux decided to actually write it, because it really was SO COOL. (As an example, what kind of bond it is you have with this other person determines where on your body it is anchored – it could be your hands, your head, your FEET… I mean. FEET!!! I loved all of this SO MUCH.)

Remy, as the blurb says, is a witherer – someone who can cut bonds (with the consent of those involved), or, with the right materials, place a death-curse on a person.

Which he does. On Idrian. Because fair’s fair, right? Idrian had Cam killed; now Remy’s going to kill Idrian.

…Small problem: turns out Remy has a fatebond with Idrian – which means he, Remy, is now under the curse too.

In all fairness, HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO GUESS HE WAS FATEBOUND TO THAT GUY? OUT OF ALL THE PEOPLE IN THE UNIVERSE? I wouldn’t have seen it coming either!

Of course, we know all this going in – it’s there in the blurb. And Arbeaux does not dilly-daddle; Remy casts the withering in the first couple of chapters.

From there, things take off.

<She makes work of anger, and silence of sadness.>

I think the reasons Lord of the Empty Isles is getting compared to Winter’s Orbit and The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet are: space; queerness between two guys (although there is no romance here); being flung together and making connections/found family under pressure; and, most conclusively, Arbeaux’ prose is compulsively readable. (I may not have 5-starred Winter’s Orbit, but you can’t say Everina Maxwell’s writing isn’t wonderfully easy to read.) Case in point: I don’t think many authors can hold your attention when the blurb has already given you the whole story. But Arbeaux had me hooked; by the just-enough worldbuilding; by Remy’s intense, visceral emotions; by the laugh-or-you’ll-cry mix-ups; by the utter refusal to give us an easy answer to some of the thorniest, and most painful, questions humans can ask ourselves.

That’s what lingers with me, now that I’ve read the book: the ugly ethical tangles Remy and Idrian – and everyone counting on Idrian – are in. Arbeaux makes no effort to simplify things for us or give us easy answers – or any answers at all; if anything, I think Lord of the Empty Isles implies that there are no correct answers. The problem – Idrian doing terrible things in order to safeguard thousands of other people – is unsolvable. You can’t truly say he’s wrong for doing what he needs to do to save so many – but you can’t say he’s ‘right’ either. Doing terrible things for good reasons doesn’t make the things not-terrible any more. And I was quietly pleased that Arbeaux didn’t try to convince us otherwise – didn’t try to influence the reader’s opinion one way or the other. Arbeaux just – presents the problem, if that makes sense. Shows us all sides of it, in what I thought was a very unbiased manner.

And then lets us work out what we think and feel for ourselves.

It’s kind of impossible not to think of Palestine while reading Lord of the Empty Isles – the situation of those in the prison-moons is in many ways analogous to that of Palestinians, and I doubt Arbeaux meant for that comparison to be made, but what with the book being published when it is, it’s inevitably going to be made. And so the issue of Idrian – or rather, the issue of the impossibly cruel living conditions on Alta, Fluora, and Toxys – packs a lot more punch than it might otherwise. (And it packs a huge punch all by itself – this is not a book that relies on the echoes of real-world events to reach its readers.)

Ultimately, the question is not really is Idrian right or good? because – that’s unanswerable, and really, it’s a distraction from the real question. The real question being: can we allow people to suffer like this? Any people, no matter who they are or what they’ve done or not done? Is it ever acceptable?

And the answer to that is no. Of course it’s no. It should and will always be no.

Which begs the next question: what on Earth (or Verdine, rather) is Remy supposed to do? Because the only way to end the curse he placed on Idrian – and everyone fatebound to Idrian, including Remy – is for Remy to die.

Can he do that? Is he brave enough to do that? Yes, the curse will kill him anyway if it isn’t lifted, so really, he’s going to die no matter WHAT he does. But still: stepping forward and volunteering to be killed is…almost impossibly difficult, even if you’re already under a death sentence.

I think I’ve only ever read one book where the main character died. It’s not something storytellers do often. To be honest, it’s become very hard for me to really believe that a main character is in any real danger, because the main character always survives. There’s always a loophole, a way out, a deus ex machina. And I will say that Arbeaux did not manage to convince me that Remy was doomed; I was waiting for the last-second save, and I even thought I’d worked out how Remy could be saved while also ending the withering.

Well. I was wrong about how the withering situation was…resolved. And that’s all I’ll say about that.

<For Cam, the answer to the question of attraction was all of the above. For Remy, it’s always been none, and his life has been no less rich for it. He’s never longed to be desired–not how people like Fluora expect him to–so it seems useless to choke himself with clothes other people might like to see him in. Wearing what he loves and having someone who understands him at his side is enough.>

Lord of the Empty Isles starts with a bloody knife and doesn’t slow down for a moment – but it’s never too fast, never too quick to allow us to process the horrors we’re shown, the secrets revealed, or the poignant emotional moments that give it all meaning. And it’s not just emotional ‘moments’; this book is defined by emotion, runs on it, is emotion made manifest. The live-wire intensity of absolutely every possible feeling runs through every scene, every sentence, every word. This book WILL make you feel; it will make you feel ALL the things.

Admittedly, one of those things…might be disappointment. I think Lord of the Empty Isles stumbled massively in its ending; not with the withering and how that went down, but with the, uh…in how the day was saved. I was (and remain) really confused about how simple and easy it all turned out to be, when the rest of the book was so unafraid of facing complicated questions without nice neat answers. It rang false, and too convenient, and just – absolutely impossible to believe. I would happily have given the book five stars, if not for that.

I also think Lord of the Empty Isles didn’t quite accomplish the found family trope it was clearly going for – the cast was a little too big, with most of Idrian’s crew – these people who are also fatebound to him, like Remy – remaining very washed-out. But I didn’t mind that so much when we had Remy’s amazing friendship with Tirani, his bestie who is very much along for the ride because CLEARLY Remy cannot be allowed to zoom around unsupervised – and Remy’s gradually-growing relationship with Idrian. Which, again, is not romantic. The author has called it queerplatonic, and I think the term fits perfectly; if you’re not familiar with it, then think of Remy and Idrian as falling in love, but platonically, not romantically. The development of that relationship was really well done and beautiful to watch – not to mention hugely validating and generally joy-making, as an ace reader who would really love to see more stories valuing other relationships over sex and/or romance!

In fact, this whole book is about the importance of non-romantic love. (There is one romance we’re aware of, but it’s very much in the background, taking place between a secondary and tertiary character.) And I think this is one of the areas in which Lord of the Empty Isles really shines; I felt so much like this book was talking about – among other kinds of love – the love we’re supposed to feel for all other human beings. I think the closest term for this might be agape – which in Christianity refers to the love God feels for humans and humans for god, but is also sometimes used to mean love for your fellow humans; the love you’re supposed to feel for them BECAUSE they are human too. The hardest kind of love, because you’re meant to also feel it for people you hate, for monsters, for people who’ve hurt you.

And it’s not – I don’t think – that Arbeaux is telling us we have to love everyone everywhere all at once. It’s just that – that’s what Idrian’s motivation is. The whole network of people breaking the law, doing sometimes terrible things – they’re doing it because how can you NOT, how can you not see/know other humans are suffering and not help? Would it not break your heart, as surely as any romantic break-up, to not-help when you could have? We are supposed to, we need to, feel enough love for our fellow humans that we draw lines we will not cross even with people we despise, even with criminals, even with people who have done worse evils to us or others. That’s why criminals are (supposed to be) treated humanely; it’s why we don’t, Remy, murder the people who’ve wronged us; it’s why we have the whole concept of human rights.

Remy is wonderful. I adored him, and I adored Tirani and I adored Idrian. I adored how much Lord of the Empty Isles values and highlights non-romantic love, gives it pride of place in a world where that throne almost always belongs to romance.

But my biggest take-away from this book is how, when push comes to absolute shove, the love we’re supposed to feel for all other people is the most important. Is the one worth sacrificing anything for. Is the one we can never, ever give up on, no matter how hard it is.

Even if it means we have to die.

(I’m not saying I could do that, could die for a cause or sacrifice myself for the greater good. But I am saying that I would like to be the kind of person who could.)

Lord of the Empty Isles is a compulsively readable science fantasy that wrestles with some of the biggest and most painful questions we have. Although the execution is a touch uneven in places, it wins major points from me for a story I couldn’t put down, Feels that had me almost vibrating out of my skin, and the sense that I just brushed against something like grace.

I received an ARC from the publisher in exchange for an honest review

Lord of the Empty Isles by Jules Arbeaux is a Queer third person-POV fantasy. When Remy, a witherer, decides to go after the man who is responsible for his older brother’s death, he’s launched into a struggle of classism on a massive scale. Remy and his friend, Tirani, need to hide their true goal and team up with the pirate Idrian Delaciel, who is not only the one who ordered the death of Remy’s brother but is also fatebound to Remy.

What I really liked was the magic system as it reminded me of the Red String of Fate from East Asian mythology but was not necessarily tied to romantic love. Remy himself is AroAce while his brother, Cam, was Bi/Pan and the dichotomy between the two’s attractions help set the stage for how the threads have a variety of meanings. Idrian has more threads than Remy or Tirani have ever seen attached to one person, most of which are tied to people he assists in the Empty Isles. What’s really cool about this is that it gives value to non-romantic relationships and places them on the same footing as romantic ones.

Another thing I liked was the story played with the idea of a pirate with a heart of gold who acts in the interest of the less fortunate by combining with a magic system based in bonded threads. It brings to mind the value of community and ties back to no one kind of love being more important than another. Idrian’s crew shares the same goals as him and will share his fate if his thread withers, a death sentence in this world.

Ultimately, Lord of the Empty Isles is a story of grief and love with a strong emphasis on platonic and familial relationships. Remy cannot move on from his brother’s death and resents others who try to do so even though it’s been five years since Cam’s passing. Idrian is in mourning for the mysterious Astrid who his ship is named after and whose existence piques Remy’s curiosity.

I would recommend this to fans of Queer fantasy who are not looking for a Romantasy, readers who enjoy stories of pirates fighting classism, and those excited by magic systems involving fate and threads.

The era of queerplatonic genre fiction is upon us.... and thank god! For some reason I went into this thinking it was a romance, and I kept thinking for the first half or so of the book, "I hope the romance doesn't throw off the flow of the themes the author is developing so far," and, since there is no romance, it doesn't! Lucky me!

I loved how moral ambiguity was used in both main characters. I really liked that Remy was like, really hateful and mean and unforgiving for almost all of the book, because it made him feel more real. He spent 5 straight years constantly thinking "Idrian deserves to die painfully" on a repeating loop, and if he just sorts got over that after meeting him and taking pity on his cause, it would have felt to shallow and unimportant both to the character and the narrative. I love that repeatedly admit that they don't really regret what they've done to each other. And I especially like that it wasn't a sort of "I can fix him" arc or something.

I will admit some of the other characters were not as strong, in my opinion. Tirani kinda disappeared for the whole second act and then comes back toward the finale. Roca was interesting to me but seemed underused, and Emil.... I have no thoughts on him. Never formed thoughts on that one. I LOVE Yves though, they were my favorite character.

The depiction of grief was undoubtedly the star of the show, though. So well done, I did tear up at several points. I can't help it, siblings always works on me. The resolution to the plot was alright, but the resolution to Remy's journey with grief is so satisfying and well written that it totally made up or it, in my opinion.

Read this whole book in one day, and I definitely will check out whatever Arbeaux comes out with next.

Thank you to NetGalley and Hodder & Stoughton for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.

I'm going to start off by saying that I need to do a better job of reading the description of books because I got half-way through reading this book before I realized that the relationship between Remy and Idrian was a queerplatonic relationship. I spent so much time concerned about the age of Idrian because he is clearly described to be older than Remy since he was idolized by him and killed his brother, so I had to look up the book to make sure that it was romance because I started to get weirded out by the idea of a romantic relationship between them.

And I ended up seeing that it is a QPR and was immediately relieved. Of course, that is my own fault because I have a bad habit of skimming book descriptions.

Aside from that, I really enjoyed this story. I love Idrian, but I have a thing for the "bitchy, misunderstood" types. All the characters were so fun and I appreciated that they were able to admit their wrongs and how they have misjudged things because of their places of privilege, while also acknowledging that being born in a place of privilege doesn't mean you've been free from suffering. I love being able to watch characters grow and develop further than what they've been taught.

I would have benefitted from more world-building relating the planets or some sort of map or illustraction because I was late to realizing that they were all different planets (again, that's mostly a me issue) and it would've been nice to read more about each specific planet.

Overall, I'm very excited to see where things go with the second book in this series and I will be sure to keep an eye on that.

Overall I really enjoyed this book! It took me a while to get into (because of my recently silly romance brainrot), and a bit longer to start to actually like the main character, but by the end I was having fun, and the heartfelt moments worked quite well for me. The portrayal of grief and the way the characters interact with each other is quite fun. I wasn't initially expecting something quite as dark as the world of the book, but once I settled into the vibe I enjoyed the worldbuilding and all that went on. I think there could easily be more stories in this world, but this story ended satisfactorily and I had fun. Overall 4.5 stars out of 5, rounded up to 5!

I liked the magic in this with the tether, and I liked the snippets at the beginning of each chapter that explained these tethers and the bonds between each person. However, I don't feel like this was developed nearly enough, and it wasn't always explained very well to truly understand them, especially as these bonds were such a critical element to the plot and storyline.

I did like the political aspect to the book, as well. It was quite predictable, but it was good to see it play out.

The characters were quite morally grey, which is also something I appreciated. However, their relationships with each other were confusing at times. You couldn't necessarily discern who was in a relationship with whom. I understood the queer platonic relationship, but when there were other relationship dynamics, these were muddled and confusing.

Overall, I enjoyed the book and the story, but I feel that there were definitely elements that could have been done differently.

When a death curse backfires and links his life to the infamous pirate Idrian Delaciel, Remy joins the pirate’s crew as a last ditch effort to extend his now very short life to try to break the curse before the fast approaching expiration date. Joining the crew allows Remy to see that things aren’t as black and white as he’s always been told as a conspiracy unfolds that pits Idrian’s crew against the government, putting Remy squarely in the middle.

This was as beautiful as it was heartbreaking. It’s captivating and fast paced and a lot of fun, but also at times, very hard to read (and intentionally, rightfully so). It’s very on the nose sometimes, but I think it earns the right to be.

I loved Remy and his character arc, but also Idrian has a nice character arc (if more subtle). The crew of the Artemis are all fantastic. Roca, Thom, Yves, the rest of the crew, they are all delights and I love them. The book is wonderfully plotted and balanced between tense moments and moments that give you a bit more breathing room, and I was truly enthralled by this book the whole way through. There’s a few moments/plot developments that are a little cliche, but I’m not mad about it.

I half read the ebook and half listened to the audiobook for this, and the narration is wonderful. Georgina Sadler does an excellent job of giving all the different characters so much life and personality, and if you listen to audiobooks, I highly recommend this one.

Someone recommended this to me saying it’s like queer Firefly. While I don’t disagree entirely, I think it’s more accurate just to widen that analogy just to say that it’s a queer space opera with a revenge arc and a conspiracy against the criminal Robin Hood-esque underdogs. Please see my content warnings nestled in the comments.

Thanks to NetGalley and Hoddet & Staughton for a copy of this ebook and audiobook in exchange for an honest review.

I originally struggled getting into this, as I found myself kind of uninterested by the main character. It wasn't until I was like 52% that I really started caring, but again I struggled to keep up with descriptions of the locations they visited. I wasn't sure where the characters ended up, or what the environment looked like, as there wasn't really a lot of description of these locations (or maybe my brain just skipped past these).

But holy, the last three chapters redeemed all of it for me, they really grabbed me by the throat, and I sat there tearing up. If you're familiar with loss and grief, those chapters will just really hit home, and that's why I would rate it 4/5 because it was genuinely really good. And I wish there had been a little more of that all throughout the book, to be honest. I feel like there could have been some extra details and moments for the characters to reflect, but with the storyline being what it is I understand the decisions that were made!

Oh, the way this was a hit for me. Queer platonic love, found family, and such beautifully realized characters. I absolutely adored every second of this book.

Oh, the way this was a hit for me. Queer platonic love, found family, and such beautifully realized characters. I absolutely adored every second of this book.

LORD OF THE EMPTY ISLES begins with a problem caused by Remy’s attempt to seek revenge for the death of his brother. Namely, that when Remy succeeds in cursing his brother's murderer, the curse starts killing him. too. From there, the story transforms into a tale of abusive systems, fighting to live in the face of tyranny, and the way that punishment for punishment's sake wreaks destruction.

This was excellent! Once I started reading I didn't want to put it down. The cast of characters is big enough to feel numerous, but their roles and personalities are defined in a way that leaves just a few key players that really matter for those readers who have trouble keeping track of so many names.

The system of bonds is very complicated in terms of specifics, but I appreciate that I only really needed to keep track of a few aspects of how they work in order to completely follow the story. For those who want all the geeky explanations and extra detail, each chapter begins with a description from an in-universe text on how all of this works. The text exists because this is visceral but it isn't intuitive, and most people can't see the bonds, so there's a good reason to have this detailed explanation broken into easily understandable sections. It creates a more literal interplay between feelings and relationships, where grief isn't just a hollow in your soul but it can be a rotting tether that hurts, something some people can touch and other people can see.

Remy has spent the last five years trying to kill Idrian, outlaw and "Lord of the Empty Isles". Idrian gave the orders to whoever put a withering on Remy's brother, this curse that made him waste away in terrible pain until he died. As if that weren't traumatic enough, the tether which was the manifestation of Remy's love for his brother has rotted, leaving Remy wracked with grief and pain. Remy himself is a witherer, and, once he gets a hold of Idrian's blood, he has a way to do to Idrian what Idrian had done to his brother. However, when Remy lays the curse he discovers, to his horror, that he and Idrian must be fatebound, because the curse he just set in motion is killing him too. This is a very effective setup, and it's handled really well. The curse forces some level of physical proximity between them, which makes Remy not just have to spend enough time around Irian to see him as a person, but also to understand how many people he's keeping alive, and the real reason for his outlaw status.

LORD OF THE EMPTY ISLES takes place in the latter part of the century after a complicated climate/colonization disaster which left the subsequent generations with a tangible fear of overpopulation and squandering resources. The people in charge had, at some point, decided that prison colonies for resource-wasters and people with too many children was the way to ensure that the punishment was a warning. These colonies are the Empty Isles, and the truly cruel and disastrous effects of this system are explored at length when Remy ends up following Idrian to one of the Isles. It forces Remy to finally see the conditions of his world's prison colony when it's a crime to have extra children. There's an extra twist to the cruelty: because the population restrictions are based on class and location, it's possible for someone can have the allowed number, and then retroactively be denied an easement, making their children who already exist into a crime. The completely avoidable result of this is a lot of parents and kids in a prison without enough of anything, let alone the air.

The thing about an enemies to allies story is that you need a pretty good reason for them to have been enemies, but also there needs to be a really good reason for them to end up as allies. This is especially true when at least one party is so specifically devoted to the other's destruction. Simply having one of them lie to the other can get you a certain part of the way, but, to be actual allies, eventually something needs to be different than it was at the start. One or both of them needs to change in a way that is meaningful enough to call for them to realign their point of view. In LORD OF THE EMPTY ISLES, the presence of the withering means that long after someone's mind has changed they still have to deal with a decision made earlier, in a different state of mind and with different information. It changes the pressure and the momentum of the story. I'm used to (and generally frustrated by) stories which derive tension and anticipation from a character having lied early on and then the story maintaining suspense by putting the confession late enough that it's a betrayal no matter how the information comes out. I didn't feel that way at all here, even though some parts of that usual pattern were in place. The withering is at once a reminder of Remy's earlier mindset and an active danger, and I love how the reveal is handled.