This book's almost impossibly good, and after having reread the Goblin Emperor and read The Witness for the Dead this week to prepare for it, I'm gutted at having nothing more in this world to read now.

Like The Witness for the Dead, the Grief of Stones deals with several cases that Celehar is witnessing for and ties these together around the themes explored both in the in-world media (such as the operas) and of course that Celehar is personally dealing with: old and new grief, the sense that his time doing what he can do is short, the constant feel of an old scandal hanging over his head and the bitterness that his personal grief is *reduced* to scandal in so many ways, the fear of starting new things because of how the old ended. Again, as with Witness, Grief is a story that braids these together tightly, forming a bigger picture about how they all interact than any of them could be by themself.

There was a point in the story where I worried that it wasn't going to come together as smoothly as in Witness -- Essentially, the details of what was going on in the school seemed excessively clear to me and I didn't want to sit through another 70% of the book knowing it and waiting for it to play out. And then I was nearly chagrined, because while I was right, it wasn't the final mystery reveal but was simply another detail that complicated the whole story and was timed perfectly for it to be realized by the reader shortly before it was revealed in text.

Since he's a witness vel ama, the theme here is so much that Celehar is someone who speaks for people who cannot speak for themselves -- generally the dead, obviously, but this story challenges you to remember that there are entire classes of people who could speak for themselves and never be listened to, not when their word would be weighted against those more reputable than themselves. It's a message that was brought up originally in Witness with the details of the opera, and the themes of that opera pay off here -- and so do many things that began in Witness. The Grief of Stones doesn't pretend to be standalone in any way; it doesn't take the time to remind you of what you read about previously or explain existing relationships in any detail, but it carries it forward directly. I strongly recommend reading the Witness of the Dead first (or rereading it if some elements are foggy) because not only the events but the themes and motifs play off each other. They're separate enough events to be separate books, but Grief happens right after, so everything that was introduced in that is continued to be developed here, and more to the point, the development of Celehar's changing emotional state continues in a steady arc.

An absolute beautiful read. I know I'm far too early to say I can't wait for book three, but I cannot wait for book three.

Also, I continue to ship it.

Thank you to Tor and to NetGalley for the ARC I was granted in exchange for an honest review.

The Grief of Stones continues the adventures of Thara Celehar, the witness to the dead in the city of Amalo. Thara is starting to settle into his life in Amalo, he is becoming less isolated and making more friends. However his tentative peace is threatened when he stumbles upon a massive scandal involving the foundling orphans of the city. When one of his witnessing's takes him into the criminal underworld of Amalo, Thara will discover conspiracies, blackmail and malicious plots threatening the cities most vulnerable.

This series strikes the perfect balance in tone between comforting and melancholy - I think this book in particular highlights the authors skill in creating a unique atmosphere and overall mood of the story. This book (and the whole series) is quite introspective and character focused but with a great cosy mystery type plot which is honestly just the perfect combo for me.

I really love Thara as a character - he is quite serious and at times grumpy but he is also so loveable. I loved seeing his developing relationships from characters in book 1. In particular, Iana - I really love their relationship although we don't see that much of it and sometimes it feels like you are being queerbaited but I'm pretty sure Thara is canonically queer and I think I like the super slow burn as it feels like it fits Thara's character well of him slowly opening up and being willing to let good things into his life.

We also see some new relationships forming in this book, I really enjoyed Thara getting an apprentice and seeing how he approached taking on a mentor role and also how this changed his attitudes to work. I also really enjoyed the apprentice character - she had such a sweet and determined personality despite her unfortunate circumstances. I also enjoyed seeing how the people Thara witnesses for affect him, often he must reckon with all his griefs and losses and rely on the support and love of his friends to help him.

This book discusses some quite heavy topics - especially around child pornography, which I thought were handled with care and added a lot of depth and heartbreak to the story. You really feel for the foundling girls and what they have to go through.

I think this book somehow feels like its own contained story but a lot of threads are left open and so I was left after finishing feeling satisfied if I knew it wasn't the last story in the world however I'm not sure yet if there will be a book 3 but I really hope there is as Thara's story definitely feels incomplete. Something fairly major happens to Thara towards the end and I think it definitely needs a lot more time to explore.

Overall I really enjoy this series and this instalment was no expectation. From the careful empathy of Thara, the explorations of grief and death (themes I always love), the cosy writing style and the perfect balance of dark themes and lighter moments that mirrors real life very well there is so much to enjoy about these books.

The Grief of Stones es la continuación directa de The Witness for the Dead, así que seguiremos las andanzas de Celehar mientras desarrollas sus funciones como prelado y Testigo de los Muertos.


Katherine Addison ha logrado con solo dos libros (tres, si tenemos en cuenta The Goblin Emperor) crear un universo tan atractivo como calmado, convirtiendo la ciudad de Amalo en un remanso de paz y una oportunidad de relajación para el lector. Es una zona de confort en la que sabes lo que vas a encontrar y disfrutas del camino. Con esto no quiero decir que no haya momentos de tensión en la novela, ya que al fin y al cabo el protagonista es una especie de forense que habla con los fantasmas muertos en extrañas circunstancias, pero está escrito de una manera pausada y tranquila, no busca sorprender si no acompañar. Un amigo mío definió estos libros como slice of life, ya que acompañamos al protagonista durante varios días de su vida y vemos cómo va afrontando las diversas peticiones que le llegan a su despacho. Hay un misterio principal, pero está acompañado de otras solicitudes que complementan este relato como una suerte de mosaico que nos permitirá ver las perspectiva completa.

También resulta entrañable la red de amistades que ha ido tejiendo el protagonista, al que su propia modestia y falta de confianza en sí mismo coloca en situaciones algo incómodas, ya que es incapaz de comprender que haya gente a la que le importe su porvenir.

En cuanto a la prosa, se adapta muy bien a este ritmo cachazudo y parsimonioso, aderezado con mucha terminología inventada, sobre todo para el tratamiento formal entre las personas que dialogan que a veces puede resultar un tanto enrevesado, pero que no se convierte en un impedimento para el disfrute de la lectura.

También es cierto que el “misterio” en sí no es nada complejo y se puede incluso intuir cuál será el discurrir de la investigación, este libro es más de disfrutar el viaje que de llegar al final, de entretenerse en cada pequeño detalle y conversación. Un libro más que recomendable para reconfortar el corazón.

The Grief of Stones carries on the story started in The Witness for the Dead, itself the first book in a spinoff series taking place in the world of The Goblin Emperor. Thara Celahar gets wrapped up in the investigation of the murder of a wealthy, elderly woman, which in turn entangles him in the mystery surrounding a school for foundling girls. Their world is one of exploitation, lost hope, and misery. Celahar is no stranger to these things, but he is already near his breaking point, and he does not seem to see how badly he needs a break from them. I enjoy Celahar's character; he is himself sad and broken, worn down worse than his threadbare clothing, but he is too bleak and full of despair to ever assume that he could find—or that he even deserves—anything more. It's heartbreaking to watch him try to do the right thing in the face of all the evil and cruelty around him... and even more so when he is presented with kindness and love from those around him who see the worth in him, and how he, unable to accept that love, turns away from it or holds it at a distance. (Look, I just want him to be happy, is that too much to ask??) This is a thoughtful series that explores those used and forgotten, the ethics of law and justice, death, grief, pain, and trauma... and flickers a light, every so often, somewhere near the end of the tunnel. It's not a sweeping adventure series the way you would expect a world full of magic, elves, and goblins would produce; just a flawed world full of flawed people trying to fix things, one case at a time. Celahar's sexuality plays more of a background role to events, so while I classify this as an LGBT story, it is more for the sake of the book's themes than for any romance playing out on the page. Celahar is deeply traumatized by his homosexuality, and he keeps it carefully boxed up and hidden away, which of course informs his character to a heavy degree, and he does have a budding romance developing with Pel-Thenhior. It's too soon in the series to tell which direction Addison will take this in, but after the heartfelt warmth of the conclusion of The Golbin Emperor, I hold out hope that that same warmth and love will eventually triumph for Thara. I look forward to the next instalment of this series!

I first encountered Katherine Addison in the surrounding hype for the release of *The Witness for the Dead*, with a lot of people I respect recommending the “prequel,” *The Goblin Emperor*. Although I don't often pay attention to other peoples’ recommendations (tastes are so subjective) the few times I have given in, I haven't been disappointed. And *The Golbin Emperor* was no exception. Then Addison continued the delightful experience, first with the *The Witness for the Dead* and now with *The Grief of Stones*.

And on another side note it wasn't until I finished *The Witness for the Dead* that I bothered to look at the copyright page and was delighted to find that Katherine Addison was a pseudonym for Sarah Monette, co-author with Elizabeth Bear of the powerful Iskyrne series. Bonus.

*The Grief of Stones* is a direct sequel to *The Witness for the Dead* (and spoiler alert: she sets up a book three!) in what is now called the *The Cemeteries of Amalo* series. It picks up pretty much right after *The Witness for the Dead* and I would recommend reading them in order. The main character, Celehar, a Witness for the Dead who has been in all three books, investigates another death per his calling and it soon becomes bigger than he had foreseen, taking him across the city and intersecting the lives of both the nobility and the destitute and abandoned. And of course along the way we learn even more about makes this most interesting man tick.

A combination of detective fiction, steam punk, fantasy and pure fun, the *The Grief of Stones* is a great read. My favourite kind of read in fact. The characters (especially Celehar) are sympathetic, mostly non-heroic and and just trying their best, and Addison deftly weaves the culture and history of her world around the "humanity" of the characters rather than getting caught up in how her complex world-building affects them. It is one of those books with a culture that hosts a rich and complex structure replete with confusing titles, indecipherable relationships and opaque hierarchies, but is one that you can just safely ignore as much of that as you please and be certain that the story will carry you along—it's the kind of writing I love when it's done well (and this most certainly is) because you know you can go back again and again and discover something new every time.

So go out, read the first two books, and get ready for the release of *The Grief of Stones*—you won't regret any of it.

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<p>Review copy provided by the publisher. Also the author is a friend of long standing.</p>
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<p>Thera Celehar, the hero of <em>The Witness for the Dead</em>, returns for a sequel with enough plot in it for four books by another author. Seriously, there is <em>so much plot here</em>. Celehar has a trainee! There's a murder! That leads to corruption and evil and a foundling school that is doing what now? Oh no. <em>Oh no</em>. And then the dead just keep giving a little more of their secrets, and a little more, and soon Celehar and a brand new Witness have problems they thought were mythical. Or didn't imagine at all.</p>
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<p>Celehar remains his conscientious, worried, and slightly badly-dressed self. If you found the first volume charming--as I did--this is definitely more of the same. A lot more. I am extremely impressed at how much there is packed into this without making it feel crowded, it just keeps--turning. And turning again. And leaves Celehar in a new place that allows him to find out who he is, who he will be, going forward, while staying true to the core of himself.</p>
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<p>Also there is more opera, so that's a relief.</p>
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Ahoy there me mateys!  I received this fantasy eARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.  While I try to post no spoilers, this be a direct sequel to the witness for the dead so proceed at yer own peril . . .

As soon as I heard there was another book featuring Celehar, I knew I had to read it.  And I was not disappointed.  I love him.  This book continues the day-to-day life of Celehar and that continues to be the highlight for me.  There is also the addition of Othala Tomasarin, a Witness in training, and their solving more crimes as well as helping the common folk.  Celehar is still dealing with the trauma of his past and learning to open up to friendships. 

It is truly hard to express the complexity of these books and yet how easy and compelling they are to read.  The novels are character driven but I am still in awe of how the world building is wrapped into the story.  The more I learn about the politics and nuances of the city, the more I want.  I appears that there will be another book about Celehar given the way the book ended.  At least I hope so!  I need to know where Celehar is going to go from here.

This book should not be read as a standalone.  I believe both prior books are necessary to read before this one.  That said, if ye loved those then this one is likely to float yer boat too.  Arrr!

Thera Celehar, Witness for the Dead in Amalo, returns. He is presented with an apprentice, a widow newly come into her calling, with no training. She proves helpful as he interrogates the dead--and the living--in a series of cases ranging from a lost scone recipe to murder, and worse. Celehar has friends now, but is still pessimistic and depressive. He is also doggedly determined to do the best he can for all of his supplicants, be the cases large all small.

Well worth reading, but probably not the best place to start.

I'd previously read <i>[book:The Goblin Emperor|17910048]</i> and enjoyed it, so I took the opportunity to pick up a pre-release copy of this book for review via Netgalley. I haven't read the second book yet, and though some events in it are mentioned, I didn't feel lost as a result. (I did sometimes feel lost, which I'll talk about more in a minute, but it was not because I hadn't read the previous book.)

In <i>The Goblin Emperor</i>, because the focus is on the title character, the mystery-solving that goes on by the Witness for the Dead who is the main character of this and the previous book happens largely offstage. That was a slight disappointment to me, and probably other readers, though I understand why the focus was where it was, and that therefore the mystery got sidelined. In this, and I believe the previous book, the mystery solving becomes the focus.

A Witness for the Dead, in the setting, is a type of priest who is able to communicate with the recently deceased to some degree, which makes investigating murders a lot less complicated sometimes (not always). Not that it's always murders; there are multiple minor consultations throughout this book with citizens who want to know anything from their deceased business partner's bestselling scone recipe to where their late wife hid their savings. These seem to function mainly to provide a feel for the world (it's a dystopian place to be if you're poor) and to emphasize that the Witness for the Dead's work includes a lot of routine. He's a minor civic functionary, in most ways. But there are several murders, some of which are solved almost immediately, others by careful detective work over multiple chapters.

The mystery/detective side of things, for me, was fine. It worked well. What didn't work so well for me was the untranslated vocabulary and the elaborate names.

In my review of the original book, <i>The Goblin Emperor</i>, I noted that my difficulty in following the names and words for everything had some justification, in that it mimicked how the main character felt, thrust into the midst of court intrigue and suddenly surrounded by a great many people who he had to keep straight. Here, there's no such justification. The author is a good writer, and I'm going to assume that she knows the effect of including so much untranslated fantasy vocabulary - it makes the world feel alien. Again, in <i>The Goblin Emperor</i> that was a feature, but here it feels to me like a fault, particularly since less would have been more. A light salting of special terms that I could guess from context would have been enough, but I got a lot more than that, and it pushed me back a step from immersion in the story. It went from feeling alien to feeling alienating. Because I had a pre-publication version, I may have been missing a glossary that will be provided in the final book, but even with a glossary I would have had to look things up often enough that I couldn't have remained immersed. As it was, I just had to put up with a lot of instances where a word was used that conveyed little or nothing to me.

Another justification of a lot of untranslated words could be that it emphasizes that these things are not direct analogues of things in our world; there's a significant difference. That's a good defence in theory, but in practice, there are untranslated terms where, as far as I could tell, an English word like "temple" wouldn't have been at all misleading. Also, some vocabulary is translated, like "canon" or "prelate" (the latter of which, in English, means specifically a high-ranking cleric, but which is used in this book to mean a low-ranking one).

I'm left feeling that the author has made some missteps with the vocabulary that diminished my enjoyment of the book and didn't compensate by producing any benefit that was visible to me, or couldn't have been produced with a much lighter hand.

On top of that, the names were hard for me to remember. I finished the book last night, and I would have to look up the main character's name if I wanted to include it in my review today. Often, I would come to a character's name and have to use my Kindle's search function to find previous instances of it and remind myself who it was.

Katherine Addison writes highly capable prose, and this is a book with a brain and a heart. It gets into my Best of the Year list, but in the lowest tier, because the excessive and unnecessary use of untranslated vocabulary on top of hard-to-remember names appreciably diminished my enjoyment.

First off, The Witness for the Dead and The Grief of Stones are technically billed as a stand-alone sequel-series to The Goblin Emperor. They are set in the same world, chronologically after The Goblin Emperor, featuring a protagonist who appeared as a supporting character in the previous novel. And I guess technically they could be read without knowing The Goblin Emperor. But honestly? I wouldn’t recommend it. For one thing, the protagonist’s backstory isn’t described with any detail in either of the The Cemeteries of Amalo novels, but he tells the whole story in The Goblin Emperor – in the later novels he only refers to bits and pieces. For anthor thing, the world-building in Katherine Addison’s elfland novels is dense and comes with some peculiarities, including a vast system of fantasy terms and naming conventions and for those alone I think it’s sensible to read The Goblin Emperor first, especially as that novel contains a detailed index of important people and terms and some introductory explanations in the form of a traveller’s guide. Both of those are missing in the The Cemeteries of Amalo novels and I felt their loss keenly. I also would have appreciated a map of Amalo, because just as with the names and terms, the city’s layout was somewhat hard to keep track of.

But enough about that, what about the novels themselves? I loved The Goblin Emperor and had high hopes for The Cemeteries of Amalo as they feature my favourite side-character as their protagonist: Thara Celehar, Witness to the Dead, cleric to the god of death, gifted with the ability to connect with the dead and thus serving, among other things, as murder investigator. In The Goblin Emperor he investigated the previous emperor’s death, an investigation readers‘ didn’t get to see much of. But now he has two novels of his own and they are filled with a bunch of different murders and a whole lot of other things.

To keep it short, I loved both novels. They were amazing. Thara is a great protagonist, his internal struggles as vividly and captivatingly described as those he faces thanks to his occupation. And there are quite a few, as he deals with a lot of guilt and grief, feeling unworthy and undeserving of his calling but desperate to do it justice while at the same time having to face the power struggles of the city’s clerical structures (I honestly don’t know the right words for this, it’s such a convoluted thing and the author uses pretty much exclusively fantasy terms to refer to the different positions etc., so clerical structures it is), the sometimes superstitious or disbelieving mistrust of those he encounters during his work and of course the rigors of that work itself, having to deal with the dead, trying to puzzle through their lives and finding justice for them or peace for those they left behind.

Where The Goblin Emperor was an intriguing look at the machinations of the elven court, The Witness of the Dead and The Grief of Stones offer an in-depth look at everyday life in one of the larger cities of the elflands, Amalo, and a closer look at some of the supernatural abilities that were more or less only hinted at in the original novel. While the maza (I’m pretty sure the plural is different but I cannot remember), the world’s magicians/wizards/whatever, play even less of a role in these novels than they did in The Goblin Emperor, with a Witness of the Dead as the protagonist, readers get to know much more about the duties but also abilities of those chosen by Ulis, the god of death (and other things, truly, an overview over the pantheon would also have been helpful).

There are a bunch of different things going on, some unrelated, some only seemingly so, and Thara Celehar has to – and sometimes simply wants to – figure them all out. These novels are a weird mix of slice of life, depressed detective stories and tea drinking steampunk fantasy and it works beautifully, resulting in stories that are captivating and yet relaxing to read. I was fascinated by Thara when he first showed up in The Goblin Emperor but somewhere during The Witness of the Dead I fell in love with him and that feeling only intensified as I read The Grief of Stones. I can whole-heartedly recommend both of The Cemeteries of Amalo novels, but I would definitely recommend reading The Goblin Emperor beforehand.

I really love the continuation of this series. This is the fantasy world version of a cozy British murder mystery. I enjoy dropping into this world of gentle main characters who are just trying to do their best.

Thank you to NetGalley and Macmillan – Tor/Forge for providing an eARC in exchange for a review.

In The Grief of Stones, Katherine Addison returns to Amalo and Thara Celehar’s story as a witness for the dead. As he investigates suspicions over the sudden death of a marquise, Thara’s life is complicated by the assignment of an untrained apprentice, a mysterious plea for help from a girl in a foundling home, and the revelation of what the Hill of Werewolves truly guards.

This is a good continuation from The Witness for the Dead, although any reader who has not read that book should go back and start there. Those who already have will be happy to see returning friends and antagonists. Also, three books into this world, I still love how Addison uses the very structured and formal language rules she’s imposed on the society to create emotional impact. There’s a moment where Thara is floored by the implications of someone addressing him with “thee” rather than “you,” and I needed to go back and reread a book and a half to review everything the characters had ever said to one another and whether anyone else in his life used that mode of address. The attention to detail just gets to me in the best way. I was expecting this book to be more detective story than character study, but was pleased to be incorrect. While the main plot focuses on the various mysteries Thara solves in his calling as a witness for the dead, The Grief of Stones gives more scope to his continuing journey with his own grief, the friendships and goodwill he has built in his time in Amalo, and his complicated relationship with his calling and his sense of purpose. The introduction of Othala Tomasarin as Thara’s apprentice brings out a side of his character the story hasn’t previously highlighted, bringing a degree of humor and introspection as he attempts to mentor her and explain the many aspects of serving as a witness for the dead. We also get fascinating world building as Addison continues to expand the religion, history, and supernatural elements of this world. I’m trying to avoid spoilers, but the events of this book fundamentally change how Thara relates to the world and will shape future books in interesting ways. The end seems to demand at least one sequel, as several plot threads still need to be resolved, but I was happy with the book as a continuation of a story I’m enjoying and I look forward to any sequels.

What I love most about this series is the fact that, while these are mysteries, they’re character-driven mysteries, and they’re driven by characters you sympathise with and love from the start. That is no different in The Grief of Stones than in the previous two books of this world. In fact, it may be even more so.

The Grief of Stones has a couple of mysteries going on in it for the duration: one, as explained by the blurb, attached to a foundling home, and a few more minor ones, including feuding brothers, and a murdered mistress. But when I say this is a character-driven book, I mean that these mysteries take a bit of a backseat—that is, the mysteries are a vehicle to develop the characters, they aren’t very complex in themselves.

Because, if I have one gripe, it’s that the main mystery isn’t actually that mysterious. Sure, I don’t mind reading a book where the mystery is more about character development, but I do want a little bit of mystery to it. It’s in the name, isn’t it?

However, given the previous books, this wasn’t that unexpected. And, hey, I kept reading this series on the strength of its characters. I really liked the journey that Thala goes on in this one—or rather, the start of the journey he’ll continue in the next book. Realising that, against his will, he’s gained a group of friends who’ll support him through everything? Beautiful.

And those friends are as fleshed out and well-rounded as Thala himself is. Frankly, this is a world and a group of characters that I could spend innumerable books with happily. It’s a quiet kind of fantasy world, and a quiet kind of book, in the best way, and I can definitely say that this is a series that I don’t want to end.

Which is the best sort, really.

I've only read one Katherine Addison book outside her Goblin Emperor setting, and that began as Sherlock fic, so it should probably come as no surprise that what would once regularly appear in lists of the best stand-alone fantasies has now spun out a series about a sad gay detective-priest-necromancer who drinks a lot of tea. Which is not intended as any criticism, or at least, not so long as she keeps doing it this well. Her land of elves and goblins remains impeccably constructed, utterly believable and solid on the page, and if there are occasional awkward moments for the British reader (a visit to Pigeon Street; a moment where our hero asks the guy he likes but spent the first book failing to kiss if he knows any photographers, with inevitable Monty Python echoes), it's still a delight to read a modern author who knows how 'thee' and 'thou' work, and can deploy them to such moving effect. And while I normally read detective stories more for the atmosphere than the solutions, and am by no means the best person to know how novel this is, I really liked the structure here – which I suppose I should flag as a vague spoiler, although it's at least implicit even in the blurb. Specifically, what initially looks like the main investigation is mostly resolved quite early on, but one of the threads unearthed in the course of that leads on to something bigger, yet without this ever being played as some hyperbolic 'You've blown the conspiracy wide open!' bluster. Just one devoted cleric feeling there's more here he should be looking at, because he's a good (not to mention guilt-ridden) man. One who lives simply, not a mass of tics and flaws; someone you might not register all that much the first time you met him, before realising later on that he's nice in the thoroughly non-dismissive sense of the word. Which is more necessary than ever here as a counterbalance to the main crime which, while addressed as sensitively as it can be, is fairly grim. Really, it makes perfect sense that Addison decided she wanted to spend more time with this protagonist, and it turns out I did too. Let alone his world, with its all too plausible turf wars between postmen and cartographers, its various other minor cases that don't necessarily have anything to do with the main plot but everything to do with making the world breathe.

Although – this is yet another case of a work of fiction named after a work which only exists within itself (this time an opera), and it still bugs me that there's no term for that, because it's hardly uncommon.

(Netgalley ARC)