The Wind that Sweeps the Stars

Greg Keyes

★★★★☆

One of the things I like about Greg Keyes’ books is that he doesn’t stick to the ISO Standard European Medieval Fantasy setting. (In fact, the first time I read The Briar King I was disappointed that it was so clearly Renaissance Europe.) The Wind that Sweeps the Stars is high fantasy, but the setting, cultures and mythology are inspired by a mix of southwest indigenous American mythology and a vaguely Aztec-like empire.

Yash and Chej are an appealing pair of viewpoint characters: She’s matter-of-fact, a highly trained assassin sent to secure an alliance through marriage if the empire honors it, or take revenge if not. (The betrayal takes all of about five minutes: The empire is invading her country by page one.) He’s a hapless, but well-meaning prince who discovers just how little regard the rest of the aristocracy has for him.

The book’s a series of fights, some mostly physical (and very bloody), some mostly magical. Yash sets out to kill as many of her captors as she can before she’s discovered. (One of the back-cover blurbs compares it to Die-Hard with wizards. I’d also compare it to a dungeon crawl game.) Chej struggles to reconcile his loyalties to an empire that never really had much use for him and his new wife, who does.

Between fights we get brief conversations in which Yash and Chej attempt to catch their breath, some personal flashbacks, and fragments of mythological history. And every once in a while we get a glimpse of other people in the empire who, despite being thoroughly enmeshed in the imperial war machine, might have different priorities if circumstances were different.

It quickly becomes clear that the origin myths are true in the context of the book, as Yash has a second mission in addition to straight-forward vengeance. Her people’s land is in danger, and would still be even if the empire had honored their alliance. To save her future, she needs to take out the captive spirits the empire has used to secure its magical superiority. Not only does that need a different approach than simply killing as many magicians as possible, it turns out to be much bigger than anyone expected.

Spoilers

Mythological

Early on there's a reference to fossils in the context of the world's mythology. That comes back rather spectacularly near the end. It's also adds another layer (pun not intended) to the fact that the empire's power is derived by stealing the essense of others' land.

Gender

The empire's strict patriarchy and rigid gender roles are contrasted more and more strongly over the course of the book against Zeltah's more open sense of identity.

Chej thinks he's still alive because he's kept his secret, but they all know: they just don't want the scandal of admitting one of the royal family is gay, and they've been waiting for an excuse to kill him in a way that will turn his death to political advantage.

Yash, meanwhile, takes advantage of their dismissal of women as potentially dangerous, and is able to stay under the radar longer than she might otherwise. She also turns out to be gender-fluid (her body actually shifts physically, though the book continues referring to her as "she" when it does), but there's never any suggestion that her masculine aspect has anything to do with her ability to deal out violence. In fact, it's only as a man that she's captured at one point.

Among Yash's people, women and men can be leaders or warriors as they choose, and her changing is seen as just how she is. She's utterly baffled as to how Chej has absorbed so much self-loathing from his own culture.

By the end of the night the empire's rigidity is revealed as a weakness, and Chej has started to accept himself a bit more. Not much, but a start.