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published 1997; paperback 1997
I love a man who can speak forsoothly. One of the great joys of fantasy literature is the possibility that one might, by luck or chance, pluck from the shelves a novel whose characters can speak in a manner that delights the ear, without sounding as though they've crawled out of David Mamet.
Rosemary Edghill's Cloak of Night and Daggers, the third entry in her Twelve Treasures series, is enough to make me clap my hands in glee. Her previous elfin protagonist, Rohannan Melior, is but a rough border lord compared to this latest refugee: Gauvain Makindeor of the House of the Crystal Wind. Gauvain has been a Twilight Courts functionary for many years, but he's also been drugged and slightly brain-damaged, so all in all it's good luck for him that the person who rescues him from the villains of the World of Iron (shadowy G-men types) happens to be a card-carrying member of the SCA. People who whack each other in the head with rattan sticks are uniquely qualified to deal with certain types of crises.
Holly Kendal, the EMT who rated a two-line mention in the first book, Sword of Maiden's Tears, is dragged back into the fray. As a former psychiatric nurse, she knows there's something wrong when an escaped mental patient shows up with all the concomitant signs of abuse and neglect; there are electrode burns on Makindeor's temples, and his memory is not what it should be. Holly, who's had troubles of her own, lunges at the chance to play paladin, and leads Mac (oh, come on, it was inevitable) back to where he can recover his stolen artifacts. Naturally the mysterious government agency in question takes exception, and events began to go awry.
Meanwhile, events in Chandrakar gallop onward. It seems that our esteemed protagonist Ruth has been gone only a few hours from the World of Iron. (Apparently Edghill is going by the Wardrobe rather than the Cold Hillside time-shift gradient.) This gives the heroes a few weeks to catch up to the villains of Chandrakar before being forced to deal with the equally vile ilk of The World of Iron.
I chose to comment on language here because I didn't want to let another review of a book in this series get away without mentioning Edghill's gift for dialogue. Few writers can switch from Elfland to New York with fluent ease; Edghill is a master at the transition, with none of the characters mouthing words inappropriate to their station. This might seem obvious, but it's tougher than it looks. SCA-speech sounds childish against the intricacies of Chandrakar's ordinary language, in which words are as gold, to be measured, weighed, and poured out in scornful abundance. Edghill's modern characters are witty, smart, and stay in parlance. The ear does not detect the glaring dissonance of modern speech till the Ironworlders are pulled from context and forced into a world whose way of speaking they can hardly comprehend. Up till now, I have never much liked books that switch back and forth between styles of language, simply because few authors can avoid making a few ear-grinding blunders. Elfin characters do not condescend to speak New Yorkese. It's never cute or funny to watch them try. Edghill never makes this mistake.
Cloak of Night and Daggers wraps up a few of the loose ends left dangling by the two previous novels, Sword of Maiden's Tears and Cup of Morning Sorrows. The action continues at the same breakneck pace as the second book, and a lot of the romantic conflict reach fever-pitch and/or resolution. The elements of archetypal myth become stronger and stronger as this series goes on. While I'm not certain this is altogether a strength, it definitely makes the series interesting. The Twelve Treasures began on a soaring note; it will be interesting to see how long Edghill can sustain it.
Review by Becky Parkhurst
Reviewed April 8, 1997
ISBN 0-88677-724-0
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