Nataliya's Reviews > Nettle & Bone

“How did you get a demon in your chicken?”
“The usual way. Couldn’t put it in the rooster. That’s how you get basilisks.”

And that’s when I fell in love with this book. How could I not when it had such a perfect amount of cranky old ladies with dry sense of humor and demonically possessed chickens?

This is a story of a revenge quest to save a sister from unpunished domestic violence, with a ragtag team of unexpected allies. In a fairytale setting, with the requisite pointed criticism of quite a few fairytale assumptions and staples. Nothing quite new and yet when told in Kingfisher’s voice, with fun easy banter between the characters it’s incredibly entertaining.

She leveled a glare at Marra. “But don’t get any ideas. We’re here for a straightforward regicide, not to level the city.”

The demon-chicken-owner — a gravewitch a.k.a. the dust-wife — is a great character who, despite being a supporting character really steals the show from our ordinary-ish protagonist, especially when eventually acquiring a friend/foil in the form of a fairy godmother who apparently has a knack for things way less Pollyannish than her initial introduction may suggest. I’d happily read a whole extra book about the adventures of two magically inclined old ladies who are both pet chicken owners (but only one chicken comes with a demon). Just sayin’.

“Enough of this place,” said the dust-wife. “Everyone have their souls still? Shadows still attached? Then let’s go before that changes.”

It’s great that our protagonist Marra is out of her requisite fairytale teenage years. Actually, she’s thirty - even though her naïveté would have fit a teenager (but I’ll let that slide since she’s accompanied by a no-nonsense old woman who makes up for Marra’s mental youth). And I’ll even forgive the unnecessary romance subplot - at least it had the decency to stay well in the background. I’ll forgive all that for Kingfisher’s easy confident writing full of humor superimposed on the hints of a deeper darkness — and my two favorite old ladies and a chicken. (Bone dog is cute, but I can live without reading of it licking its nonexistent genitalia).

“The brown hen stood on the death mask, which had split in two, looking as serene as only a chicken can look. As Marra watched, the hen lifted her tail, voided her bowels on the king’s broken face, and then strolled to the dust-wife’s shoulder with a satisfied cluck.”

Very enjoyable book and a nice recovery for the mostly lackluster What Moves the Dead.

4 stars.

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Also posted on my blog.