Note: we’ve kept this as spoiler free as possible, but there ARE spoilers in the latter half of the review. It is clearly marked, so skip that section if you want to be fully unspoiled.

Shadow demons in the water, a fugitive father, and an enigmatic cliff runner interrupt Caleb Altemoc’s night of gambling – and may bring down one of the most important cities in the world of Craft.

This is the second in a series, either following the first book published OR the first book chronologically. 60 years ago, a brutal war was fought between gods and armies of Craft – and in the desert city of Dresediel Lex, Craftsfolk won.

Dresediel Lex is ruled by Red King Consolidated (RKC), a powerful corporation that acts as de facto ruler of DL under the leadership of Kopil, a powerful Craftsman and, well, skeleton. On the surface, DL is a modern, prosperous city – but under the surface, they’re running out of water, ancient powers threaten to rise, and followers of the fallen gods wage war against RKC.

Caleb Altemoc occupies a unique space in this tableau: a risk manager at RKC, and the son of the last priest of the old gods, wanted terrorist Temoc. Called in to an infestation of shadow demons at the city reservoir, Caleb meets Mal, a cliff runner who immediately entrances him. Between his job, his father, and his new interest in Mal, Caleb becomes mixed up in a deep conspiracy to take down RKC and take back the city for the old gods, using fiery serpents that slumber underground.

Being completely upfront, I don’t have much time for Two Serpents Rise. There is a lot of good here, and Gladstone’s writing and worldbuilding remains excellent, but ultimately the story is the weakest of all six currently published books. Furthermore, whilst it is thematically important to the entire sequence, ultimately I would argue it can be skipped without much detriment to overall understanding and enjoyment of the series as a whole.

But, let’s start with the positives! Because despite my misgivings, there are a lot.

First of all, Dresediel Lex as a city is incredibly well drawn. Perhaps this is due to the main character being a lifelong resident, or the story taking place over a much longer period of time than in Three Parts Dead, but DL feels more tangible than Alt Coulumb from moment one. You can feel its sheer scale, the millions of lives that are going on outwith the main story, the types of people and sentient species that live alongside each other, feel its history and the complex way cities grow and modernise. It also grounds the series in a modern day (just not our modern day) in a way that feels more natural than in Three Parts Dead.

The plot is firmly grounded in themes of environmentalism and economics, in a way that feel very real-world. As manmade climate change impacts our world, as population growth in cities can strain resources, Craft-made climate change impacts Dresediel Lex, and natural resources are strained without the old systems of gods and sacrifice. A dramatic and fast-paced economic shift – from traditional industries and societal structures underpinned by a powerful pantheon to a Craft-based economy – has ruptured a culture in a way that has never been reckoned with before.

Character-wise, although neither are POV characters, Two Serpents Rise gives us both Kopil (also known as the King in Red) and Teo Batan. Teo, Caleb’s best friend and colleague, is very much a supporting secondary character until the last part of the book where she comes into her own. On my first read I didn’t pay much attention to her because the book didn’t; it was only when she returned in a future book and was absolutely hilarious that I re-appraised her first appearance.

The King in Red is a true icon of the Craft Sequence. Introduced as the terrifying, all-powerful, skeletal CEO of Red King Consolidated (and ostensible sole ruler of Dresediel Lex) we soon discover he is an over the top drama queen in the best way. His future appearances in the series cement this dichotomy – terrifying power mixed with amusing melodrama. He is also our first real insight into Deathless Kings. Briefly seen in Three Parts Dead, we know that Deathless Kings are a) seemingly immortal and incredibly powerful Craftspeople, who b) have changed forms as their power outstripped their bodies’ ability to hold it, and c) rule vast swaths of the post-God Wars world. In Kopil, we see what this means day-to-day rather than as mysterious figures.

It’s also great to get insight into how Craft firms work, the dangers of Craft (as it’s seen largely through Tara’s positive POV in Three Parts Dead), and a different kind of religion than the typically good or neutral Church of Kos.

Finally, I love the final sequence where Caleb, Teo and Temoc break into the ancient-temple-pyramid-turned-RKC-head-office. It’s an excellent demonstration of religion versus Craft, a wonderful character piece between the Caleb, Teo and Temoc in terms of both individual characterisation and group dynamics, and has tension and twists that keep you on the edge of the proverbial seat.

Unfortunately, the negatives outweigh these strong point. They can be summed up as:

• a weak main POV character

• a dull villain

• shaky pacing

Note that from here be spoilers. We’re keeping it as light as possible, but to actually explain our issues with the book we need to spoil!

Caleb is the ultimate weakest point of the book – and, frankly, the series (though your mileage may vary). He is, frankly, boring. He shouldn’t be! A casual gambler, professional risk manager, son of a terrorist / freedom fighter, at the heart of the plot, he sounds fun. However, what we get for a huge part of the book is Caleb falling head over heels for a woman he met once (boring), going against all sense to follow her (creepy), ignoring the very clear warning signs that she is up to something bad (irritating), obsessing over her constantly (boring, creepy AND irritating), and basically accidentally falling into the plot because of said obsession.

If you like your fantasy with a heavy dose of lovelorn straight men who make stupid decisions because of a manic pixie dream girl, then great. We prefer ours without it.

This wouldn’t be as big of a problem as it is if there were other POV characters to balance Caleb against. Sure, we have some interludes and a couple of other perspectives later in the book, but compared to all the other books in the sequence, we essentially just get Caleb. If he was super interesting this might be less of a problem, but in a series of amazing POV characters from massively underrepresented backgrounds (Tara, Kai and Izza to name a few) our boring main character is a straight, middle class cis man.

If Caleb was contrasted against the POV of, say, Teo (who, again, is vastly underutilised here – and also queer!), or even Mal (spoiler: she’s the bad guy) then I think it would be far more interesting – though if Mal had earlier POV we acknowledge it would be a very different book without the mystery. However, it’s just Caleb obsessing over Mal and making stupid decisions because of her.

Which brings us on to Mal as a dull villain. From very early on it’s clear that she’s either the bad guy or she’s a red herring; either way, her role is clear. We don’t get her POV until very late on, just Caleb’s biased perspective on her. All we hear is how absolutely amazing and beautiful and wonderful she is – and she cliff runs! She uses Craft! She’s rich and powerful and beautiful and oh Caleb is so in love with her. We get hints of her backstory, which just reinforce that yep she’s the bad guy. And then…she’s the bad guy.

If we had her POV throughout, I think this would work better. It’s not a twist as it’s so clear from early on, and if we saw her perspective about why she wants to raise deadly, fiery, ancient, magical humongous serpents from their sleep to…destroy the city…and kill thousands of people…because? Tradition? Then we might sympathise more. Instead, we just see the horror of her RAISING DEADLY MASSIVE MAGICAL SERPENTS TO DESTROY THE CITY AND KILL THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE.

In both Caleb and Mal there are the seeds of excellent characters. But the way they’re utilised is underwhelming, and undermines the entire book.

Finally, the pacing is quite bizarre here compared to the other books. Some of the books take place over days, others over months, but the plot pacing works. Here it’s spurts of energy and action then “oh several months passed and nothing happened” before another spurt of energy and action. That combined with the single POV and dull characters makes this book the least satisfying of the lot.

This book is loved by many, but for us it falls flat. There are some great sparks throughout, and Gladstone’s writing style remains strong, but the choice of POV character, the predictable villain, and inconsistent pacing brings the whole thing down.

Whilst the themes underpin a lot of the whole series, and the characters return in future books (and are far better utilised), feel free to skip this one if the plot doesn’t appeal to you.

Agree? Disagree? Let us know on Twitter - and if you want to write your own review, defend Caleb and Mal, or defend Two Serpents Rise in general, we would love to publish your post. Get in touch!