By Nico

Lark Mairen knows that Fae magic is dangerous. In fact, she's far better acquainted with it than most--for generations, her family has raised the Shadowbred horses ridden by humans and Fae alike in the twice-yearly Wild Hunt, a ritual that chases stray magic from the border between their worlds and maintains their long-held peace. 

But when her beloved older brother, Galin, disappears in the wake of the Wild Hunt, trusting a Fae boy called Rook is Lark's only hope of saving him. Yes, Fae bargains are dangerous, but Lark is willing to do anything to get Galin back, even fixing a mysterious, shattered clock which everyone seems to be searching for. 

Except as unrest grows between the worlds and Lark begins to realize not all is well in the Fae world, she might be the only one who's brave enough to stop it--particularly when she understands the real reason Galin disappeared. 

Perfect for lovers of middle-grade fantasy which is both familiar and unique, Lark and the Wild Hunt was a fantastic read. The worldbuilding was detailed and interesting; from the Shadowbred horses to the clock Lark repairs, the setting was engrossing and fully imagined. I particularly loved the Fae and their world, which was whimsical and mysterious and never predictable in the best possible way. Lark's love for Galin and determination propel the story forward, and she and the other characters--especially Galin and Rook--kept surprising me, creating twists when I least expected them. Adam's awesome twist on the lost family trope was definitely one of the story's highlights! I highly recommend Lark and the Wild Hunt ​to readers ages nine and up. 

By Nico

Princess Alyrra has never been understood or even accepted by her royal family, who deem her too honest, too weak, and too unintelligent. When the king of Menaiya, a nearby country whose size and power dwarfs Alyrra's tiny homeland, requests that she marry his son Kestrin, she sees no reason to refuse. Leaving everything she knows be-hind doesn't sound so bad, after all--even if the rumors claim that Kestrin chose her for her disposability, a supposedly sought-after trait in the fraught, danger-ous Menaiyan court. Alyrra might prefer a life away from royal conflicts and intrigue, but at least she can escape her family. 

But while traveling to Menaiya, a powerful and mysterious woman steals Alyrra's very identity and gives it to her maid, leaving Alyrra a lowly, cast-off servant in a foreign land and her treacherous maid to marry Kestrin, and, surely, to betray him to the same sorceress. 

​Alyrra knows she should warn Kestrin of her upcoming betrayal--and yet doing so would require reclaiming her life as princess. And in Menaiya, working as a goose girl beside the lower-class citizens of her new home, Alyrra finally realizes the quiet life she's always dreamed of, away from the tense politics of court. 

But Menaiya is also rife with injustice. And as Alyrra begins to see more clearly the painful effects of the kingdom's shortcomings, and the suffering it's inflicted upon the people who have become her friends, she must decide whether she will stay the goose girl forever--or if she will give up her quiet life for a chance to stand up for the people who need it. 

I loved Thorn, a thoughtful and unique take on a classic fairytale which lends it powerful realism and striking beauty. To begin with, Alyrra's subversion of the Goose Girl is phenomenal; having the heroine welcome her lowly position rather than resenting it, as well as gladly leaving her family, was unusual and added unique depth to her character, helping me connect with her due to the simple fact that many fairy-tale heroines are difficult to truly relate to, and Alyrra's contradiction of these tropes lent her a refreshing dimensionality. Her gradual discovery of the injustices surrounding her, too, felt anything but contrived: Thorn became so much deeper as she struggled to reconcile the life she was leading with the possibility of making others' existences better, and the authenticity of her choices brought a quiet power to this story which "The Goose Girl" certainly lacked. This book gives voice to its characters' struggles without becoming overwhelmed by them; even the most difficult of topics were handled with sensitivity and thoughtfulness. I highly recommend Thorn ​to readers ages twelve and up who enjoy fairy tale retellings and strong female characters. 

By Nico

A lush garden grown where once the ground was dry and inhospitable. A family of women with flowers at their fingertips. A secret buried deep in the earth, waiting to find the sun.

The grounds of La Pradera were empty and parched until the Nomeolvides women filled them with flowers a century ago and made this odd estate their home. Estrella and her cousins are the latest generation of Nomeolvides to fill the flowerbeds with the blossoms that bloom from their hands, and to bear the weight of their family’s terrible curse: whoever they fall in love with will cease to exist, never to be seen again. Raised alongside three generations of Nomeolvides women, Estrella knows it is her fate to fall in love and have her heart broken, just as she knows blue flowers will always spill from her palms when she least expects them, and that her family’s curses are inescapable.

But the Nomeolvides’ way of life for a century is jeapordized when two strangers intrude upon La Pradera’s lush serenity, bringing with them a tangle of questions. One, a boy, is a mystery; he remembers nothing of his past, not even his own name, and yet may be the key to understanding the Nomeolvides’ curse. And the other, a man, seeks to shatter Estrella’s way of life—but he may only succeed in exposing the ugliest secrets deep within the earth.

​Anna-Marie McLemore is one of my absolute favorite writers; their luminous writing, stunning characters, and unusual plots have made every book I’ve read by them an instant favorite (some of their other works include Blanca and Roja, Lakelore, and When the Moon Was Ours). Wild Beauty was no exception. Intricate, gorgeous, and thought-provoking, this tale of family, love, and prejudice wove into something as deep as it is beautiful, a thoughtful reflection on the legacies our families leave us with and the price of forgetting the histories our world is built upon. But this fantasy world of flowers and curses is also part of our own, and the way McLemore seamlessly brings hatred, prejudice and dehumanization truly brings this story vibrantly, and devastatingly, alive. Lush, reflective, and powerful, I highly recommend Wild Beauty to readers ages twelve and up. 

By Ella

Callie has always known that they’re going to be a knight, just like their papa, who was once one of the most accomplished defenders of the land. The problem is, the whole world seems to think that Callie should learn magic like the girl they’ve never been, and that only boys should learn to fight with swords.

That’s ridiculous, of course—and luckily, Callie’s dads know that as well as they do. Still, although Callie has found a home where they’re accepted for who they are, they’ve always dreamed of going to Helston, the country’s capital, where young hopefuls train to become knights, and where their papa once fought at the king’s side. So when their papa is summoned to Helston to help train the prince, Callie leaps at the chance to visit and find their place.

It turns out, though, that not everyone else is so pleased with the prospect of Callie becoming a knight—particularly the chancellor who runs the city, who insists that Callie learn to use their much-hated magic and stay away with the women instead of becoming the knight they’ve always known they’re supposed to be. All their life, Callie's thought that Helston would be a fairytale, but it turns out it's full of bigots and discrimination. And when Callie stands up for themself, it doesn't go well. 

No one else seems to be struggling to cram themselves into Helston's strict roles, but Callie soon discovers that’s not the case—they meet Willow, a crown prince who’s never wanted to be a warrior; Elowen, the chancellor’s fierce and capable daughter; and Edwyn, her brother, who more than anything wants to fit the mold his father has set for him. Helston’s rigid society is just hurting everyone, and Callie already got enough of that kind of manipulation when they were younger. Together, it’s up to Callie and their new friends to stand up against a society that hates them—or else be forced to become the people they’ve never wanted to be.

I absolutely loved Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston. At once a fun fantasy adventure, an unflinching story about hatred and prejudice, and a brilliant, affirming reflection of everyone’s uniqueness in the face of an inflexible society, this is definitely one of my favorites of 2023 so far. Esme Symes-Smith draws from many familiar tropes but makes them fully their own, creating an utterly amazing setting that feels more complete and well-rounded than any I can recently remember. Helston perfectly reflects the beauty and deep-rooted imperfections that coexist in our world, too, which helped to make it heartbreaking and vivid in equal measure.

However, that said, the characters were definitely my favorite part of Sir Callie. Callie, of course, was a favorite—their bravery, determination, and sheer stubbornness made me fall in love with them immediately, and I’m so glad there will be more books in the series for me to get to know them better! But every single character in this book were spectacular and nuanced, particularly Willow and Edwyn, whose struggles, though very different, are each so full of realism and power that I couldn’t help but root for them through all the stories twists and turns. A special shout-out has to go to the chancellor, not because I liked him, but because I hated him with such a burning passion—it’s a rare villain who I truly despise, but he went above and beyond in this particular department.

Although Sir Callie was sometimes hard to read—where many books, especially middle-grade fantasy, will skirt around painful topics, this one does the reverse—this was one of my favorite parts about it. Esme Symes-Smith’s willingness to face even incredibly difficult topics head-on was part of why I connected so deeply with Callie and their story; they perfectly encapsulate incredible messiness of reckoning and healing.

​I highly recommend Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston to readers ages eleven and up—if you’ve ever wanted to read a queer mash-up of a Tamora Pierce book, this one’s for you! 

By Ella

The Golden Frog Games is the sequel to Witchlings, and the second book in Claribel A. Ortega’s ongoing Witchlings series.

[Look out—there are spoilers for book 1 below!]

Being one of the most famous Spares in the Twelve Towns is a lot to live up to. Especially for Seven, who’s heralded not just as the Spare who defeated the Nightbeast but as the future Town Uncle—a Town Uncle who, despite all her best efforts, can hear the voices of dangerous monstruos far louder than the animals that are supposed to be speaking to her. But ever since she, Valley, and Thorn made history as the first true Spare coven, they’ve been the face of all the Spares in the Twelve Towns. And Seven is sure that admitting she’s failing at her most basic Uncle duties is exactly what the growing number of anti-Spare agitators need to prove that Spares were always supposed to be powerless.

Amid a rise in anti-Spare sentiment, Seven hopes that the Golden Frog Games—an anticipated tournament where the Twelve Towns compete in everything from frog racing to magical clothing—will allay the worst of the tension, thanks to Seven’s covenmate and friend Thorn being a prime contender in the costura division. But when a fellow competitor is turned to stone, with Thorn the prime suspect, it’s up to Seven, Valley, and Thorn to find the hexer before they hurt anyone else.

I loved Witchlings, so I was super excited for the sequel—and it didn’t disappoint! Brimming with quirky worldbuilding, humor, and adventure, I didn’t want to put this story down. As before, the characters are awesome—Seven, Thorn, and Valley are one of my favorite literary trios, both for their individual personalities and the way they interact with each other. They feel like such a natural group of friends, and I love reading about them! The new cast was also great (I particularly liked Graves), always bringing energy and quirkiness to the narrative. I particularly loved seeing Seven and her friends stand up to anti-Spare prejudice in this book, and her struggle and determination in the face of it; realistic and thoughtful, it helped make the world of Witchlings come alive. I highly recommend The Golden Frog Games (and the Witchlings series) to readers ages ten and up.