By Nico

Olga gets by on trickery and thievery, using her magic to part with money, food, or whatever else she needs to get by. But this way of life has never sat well with Olga or her compatriot, Pavel—so when she learns of a precious jewel hidden in an abandoned castle, she leaps at the chance to change their futures forever. No matter the ghost stories about the castle.

Olga and Pavel soon discover, though, that rather than being abandoned, the castle is home to a nightly ball full of joy and laughter—a ball whose guests disappear after every night, besides the castle’s master, an enchanter who Olga is convinced is far less kindly than he seems. But he may be her only chance of finding the legendary jewel—and, when the castle’s curse begins ensnaring Pavel, too, her only hope of saving him.

I loved Karah Sutton’s debut novel, A Wolf for a Spell, so I was thrilled to read The Song of the Swan. It didn’t disappoint. This book is an atmospheric fairytale of a story made even more beautiful by the gorgeous accompanying illustrations by Pauliina Hannuniemi. The worldbuilding felt so rich and vivid I could almost touch it, most notably the almost magnetic appeal of the castle, and I loved the magic, particularly with regard to the spiders. The unfolding mystery of the story left me constantly guessing what was going to happen next and left me utterly satisfied at the conclusion of the story. Olga was a great protagonist, but part of what made her shine most was her relationship with Pavel and her flaws, which often led her to difficult but entirely relatable decisions. I highly recommend The Song of the Swan to fantasy lovers ages ten and up. 

As a longtime afficionado of fantasy books, it took me far longer than it should’ve to get to see my trans identity reflected back at me in the kind of story I loved—full of incredible characters, startling twists, and gorgeous worldbuilding. When I read The Sunbearer Trials by Aiden Thomas two years ago, it was all that and more—and I truly can’t describe how thrilled I am to be hosting today’s stop on the promo book tour for Celestial Monsters, the sequel and conclusion to the Sunbearer Trials duology!

My review!

In a word—incredible. Once more, Aiden Thomas has created one of the most thoughtful, compulsively readable, and validating fantasy novels I’ve ever had the pleasure to read, a duology closer that leaves me wishing for more while simultaneously pulling off an incredibly satisfying ending.

Often in a review I’ll give a special shout-out to a favorite character, but Celestial Monsters has such an incredible cast that it was nearly impossible to narrow it to just three! Niya is undeniably my favorite cis character in this book—she’s the kind of unabashed, snarky, loud, and vulnerable character I absolutely need to see more of in fantasy (and just in general, for that matter), and she truly has one of the strongest personalities I’ve encountered in a book. Xio is a quieter character, but their ferocity and struggle brought them to life for me. They could’ve so easily become a cliché based on The Sunbearer Trials’s setup, but instead I couldn’t wait to get to their point of view chapters and see what they did next.

And I’ll always have a soft spot for Teo. His determination, strong bonds (platonic, familial, and romantic), and voice form the core of this series, and there’s truly no story I wouldn’t follow him into. There aren’t a whole lot of characters I would root for unconditionally, but Teo is absolutely one of them.

In a genre still so dominated by cis characters, there’s something incredible about seeing trans and nonbinary characters as the leads, the villains, the side characters…the diversity of experiences and characters in this book is truly beautiful. And the entire world of Reino de Sol is gorgeous—even beyond the deft queer- and transnorm society, this world is vibrant with color and personality, with each city that Teo and his friends travel through filled with its own character

​I truly can’t recommend Celestial Monsters enough--without question, this book deserves five stars! 


​Special thanks to Colored Pages Book Tours, Fierce Reads, and Feiwel and Friends for the gifted copy of Celestial Monsters! All opinions expressed here are my own.

Aiden Thomas (he/they) is a trans, Latinx, New York Times bestselling author of young adult novels. They received an MFA in Creative Writing from Mills College. Originally from Oakland, California, they now make their home in Portland, OR. Aiden is notorious for not being able to guess the endings of books and movies, and organizes their bookshelves by color. Learn more on their website!

By Nico

Maya and the Lord of Shadows is the third and final book in the Maya and the Rising Dark trilogy; it is preceded by Maya and the Rising Dark and Maya and the Return of the Godlings.

[Look out—there are spoilers ahead for books 1 and 2!]

The veil is breaking. The war with the Lord of Shadows has arrived. And though the celestials think they know what his plans are, Maya isn’t so sure—he’s been one step ahead of them the whole time, and she doesn’t think that’ll change now. Not when underestimating him is the whole reason the Lord of Shadows was able to break through the veil in the first place, something Maya’s still sure is her fault.

With her friends Eli, Frankie, Eleni, and Zeran by her side, Maya sets off to learn the truth about the Lord of Shadows’ plans—and stop him before he destroys the human world. But his deceptions go deeper than she knows, and stopping him may not be possible. Particularly since he’s willing to do whatever it takes.

​Maya and the Lord of Shadows was a fun, fast-paced series closer that left me fully satisfied. I really love all the characters in this series; Barron has mastered the art of quirky character interactions, and they helped this story truly shine. I particularly love the plotting in this series. I don’t usually struggle to figure out where stories are going to go next, but the twists and turns of Maya and the Lord of Shadows often left me without a clue, which made Maya’s consternation about the Lord of Shadows’ plans feel much more convincing. I also really liked the worldbuilding—as in previous installments, Barron creates a palpable contrast between Earth and the celestial’s homes, adding to the feeling of magic in the narrative. I recommend the Maya and the Rising Dark trilogy to readers ages nine and up who like fantasy adventures and satisfying series. 

By Nico

Morgan knows she can’t be herself on the tiny island where she’s grown up. Here, she’s straightforward, unremark-able, good at blending in, a persona much easier to stomach than the truth that no one—not her struggling mom, not her cluster of friends—knows: Morgan likes girls.

She’s determined to get through high school and escape as soon as possible to somewhere she can be herself. But all that changes when Keltie slips out of the sea and saves Morgan’s life. Keltie—who, with her odd, bright-colored clothes, disregard for social convention, and unconventional secret—is the worst thing possible for Morgan’s attempt at normalcy. Particularly when she begins to fall in love…

​The Girl from the Sea was the summery, small-town, queer graphic novel I didn’t know I needed! With beautiful, atmospheric artwork and a contemporary twist on the classic selkie story, I couldn’t help but be pulled into this book. I really loved the characters—Morgan is one of the absolutely most relatable characters I’ve read recently, and Keltie her perfect foil, with so much spark and personality that I couldn’t help but fall in love with her alongside Morgan. The entire story was sweet and vivid, and extraordinarily realistic, despite (or because of) the magical elements; Morgan’s family in particular felt completely authentic, with the right mix of conflict and love and individual character to bring it truly to life. Whimsical and full of magic, I highly recommend The Girl from the Sea to readers ages eleven and up. 

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 Ella

Mar’s papá is one of the greatest pirates in the Caribbean—and one of the most feared by the Spanish conquerors whom he steals from. But for Mar, their papá’s ship is more than a home; it’s their sanctuary, the only place where they can use their mysterious fire and ice magia without being called a demon, and where they can be their authentic self without people sorting them into gendered boxes that have never really fit.

On Mar’s sixteenth birthday, though, their way of life is shattered when they learn that their papá made a bargain years ago with el Diablo himself—and that he’s come to collect his price. In the chaos of fire and wind that he summons, the ship goes down, and Mar is the only survivor.

Saved by irritating—and inexplicably pretty—son of a rival pirate ship’s captain, Mar is left to forge a new life for themselves, one where no one knows who they are or what they can do and discovery means death. And overhanging it all is el Diablo’s painful ultimatum: either Mar sacrifices themself to save their father by the time two moon cycles have passed, or they’ll lose him forever.

Mar must fend off hostile pirates, Spanish soldiers, an irritatingly persistent demonio, and their own uncertainty and insecurity if they want to have any hope of saving their father—and of getting through the next few weeks alive.

Fast-paced, absorbing, and brilliant, The Wicked Bargain is fantasy pirates at their finest, perfect for fans of The Sunbearer Trials. I absolutely love the historical fantasy world Novoa has woven in this book—blending real-life events (Latinx pirates, Caribbean conflicts with the Spanish colonizers) and fantasy elements (magia, el Diablo, demonios) into a riveting, atmospheric story that I couldn’t put down. Mar was such an awesome protagonist—their realistic, powerful internal conflicts and nuanced gender identity truly brought this story to life for me. I particularly loved their interactions with the supporting cast, particularly Bas and Demi (my two other favorite characters), which had a depth and spark that helped absorb me in their world. I highly recommend The Wicked Bargain to anyone ages thirteen and up who loves engrossing, multilayered YA fantasy, particularly that which stars trans and LGBTQ+ characters. 

By Ella

Nic Blake is a Manifestor—which, up until now, hasn’t meant a whole lot other than always needing to move when Unremarkable, non-magical humans figure out that there’s something weird about her and her dad. But today is Nic’s twelfth birthday, and she’s hoping that the hellhound pup her dad gives her isn’t the only present he’s planning. She’s been asking him to teach her how to use her magic for years, and maybe now he’ll deem her old enough.

But before she can start pestering her dad again, Nic’s life is utterly upended when her favorite author and a mysterious women crash into her life—and bring the Remarkable police not far behind them. With her dad imprisoned for a crime Nic’s certain he couldn’t have committed and no idea who to go to, Nic teams up with her Unremarkable best friend and a twin brother she never knew she had to clear her dad’s name the only way she knows how—by finding the weapon the Remarkables think he stole before he's sentenced to a terrible fate.

Pursued by the Remarkable police, Nic and her friends must uncover the truth about everyone from a resentful ex-Chosen One to a group of dangerous, magic-wielding Unremarkables if she wants to save her dad in time—but that might mean learning truths about herself she’d have rather stayed hidden.

​Witty, fast-paced, and exciting, Nic Blake and the Remarkables: The Manifestor Prophecy was utterly awesome. Nic is a fiery, fierce, adventurous heroine who I couldn’t help but love; her determination and passion drive the story through all its twists, and I’m so glad I get to follow her through more books in the series! The supporting cast particularly shone as well, especially the adults like Nic’s parents and the ex-Chosen One (one of my personal favorites!), who felt in some ways as fleshed out and vivid as the story’s protagonists. From the first few chapters there was clearly so much depth to their history and stories, and I can’t wait to get to know all of them better in the sequel. As someone who loves subverted tropes, I particularly enjoyed Thomas’s reimagining of the classic Chosen One into something unique and far more interesting, bringing extra depth to a tale that raised interesting questions about the way we tell stories. Indeed, the unexpected depth to what easily could’ve been a straightforward story was part of why I loved it so much; as in Thomas’s other books, she doesn’t shy away from the reality of being a Black kid in America, an honesty seen too rarely in contemporary fantasy novels that only became more powerful through Nic’s indignance that that the Remarkables didn’t use their magic to help Unremarkables in the larger world. Although very different from Angie Thomas’s other books, it shares their self-awareness, powerfully realistic characters, and engrossing writing—all the hallmarks of what make Thomas’s books so amazing. Action-packed and clever, I highly recommend The Manifestor Prophecy to readers ages nine and up. ​

By Ella

For a century, Mina’s people have cast a beautiful girl into the ocean every year to become the Sea God’s Bride, and appease his wrath. It is believed only this can keep the storms that have plagued her homeland at bay—and that, one day, the Sea God’s true bride will put an end to the chaos altogether.

But when Shim Cheong is chosen as the sacrifice, Mina refuses to let the girl her beloved brother loves become just another girl vanishing beneath the waves. When the time comes for her to be thrown into the sea, Mina leaps into the sea in her stead—and is thrust into a world full of secrets and gods, where old tales provide only the barest guidance, and her future—or lack thereof—might depend on a single red thread.

Here, Mina must uncover a plot against the Sea God, unravel the rivalries and factions of those who live beneath the sea, and choose between two worlds if she wants to save the world she came from, and all those she left behind.

I fully admit that the stunning cover is the reason I first picked up The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea—but the imaginative worldbuilding, unexpected twists, and strong characters are why I kept reading. The atmospheric setting and strong mythological threads added such depth to all the details and moments; I often felt as though I could see the whole world around Mina. Particularly as the story drew on, there were several twists I wholly wasn’t expecting, and the multilayered relationships, alliances, old feuds, and disagreements of the gods and other beings who inhabit this world gave the whole story a complexity and secretiveness I highly enjoyed. The absorbing, beautiful prose was also utterly amazing! I highly recommend The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea to readers ages twelve and up.

By Ella

Rhaskos. A Thracian slave, worth far less than the animals he cares for. Separated from his mother, forced to serve a master who curses him and beats him. He draws horses in the dirt, and dreams of freedom.

Melisto. She caused her mother no end of trouble as a baby. She has never stopped. The future looks as bleak to her as a stretch of flawless fabric: what everyone expects, and so easily ignored. Serving Artemis as a Little Bear might be the first and last chance, however temporary, for her to be herself.

Against the backdrop of ancient Greece, told in poetry and prose and in fragments of the past, this is the tale of a boy and a girl whose futures are dark to them—and who might, through the impossible friendship they form, at last find the peace they have both been searching for.

Amber & Clay is unique and utterly absorbing, blending historical fiction, magic, and archaeology into something almost improbably powerful and beautiful. I’ve read a handful of books which use both prose and poetry, and honestly none of them have pulled it off very well; there always feels as though there is an abrupt shift when transitioning from one to another. But Schlitz’s prose is so lyrical and deliberate that the story flowed seamlessly from one style to another, and brought the book together more fully and made it feel more concrete rather than splintering it into sections. Not only that, but this ranks among one of the most excellent historical novels I have read (it’s set in Greece, particularly the Athens area, around the fifth century BCE)—not just for how it feels as though it stays utterly true to the time period, but because the feelings and conflicts and dreams of Rhaskos and Melisto are so bright and evocative in my mind that they might be living next door, not twenty-six centuries ago.

To be honest, of all the books I’ve reviewed, Amber & Clay is one of the hardest to describe. Its scope feels enormous, and yet deeply personal; its struggles, concrete and yet ephemeral. So much happens, but it isn’t the tale of the vast shifts of war and politics occurring in the background. It isn’t even a grandiose interpretation of what it must’ve been like, growing up without any chance at having rights. Instead of seeking to change the world, Rhaskos and Melisto both simply seek to live with it: to live in a society which they see not as unjust and discriminatory as we do now, but simply as how the world is. This crucial and too-unique nuance lends the story a vibrant realism which it might otherwise lack, and helps every detail of the story, its characters, and its setting shine with power and truth. Amber & Clay is, quite simply, extraordinary—I highly recommend it to readers ages eleven and up.

By Lina 

The princess with flaming hair, signifying war; the coveted bride with blushing cheeks, representing bloodshed; the girl who, despite the battles fought over her hand in marriage, never speaks a single line---who really is Lavinia of Virgil's epic The Aeneid? In Le Guin's imagination, she is thoughtful, caring, quiet, fiercely intelligent: a leader in her own right, who loves her people and her freedom, and refuses to be bound to the future others choose for her.

In Lavinia, the titular character traces the story of her life, one ignored or overlooked for centuries. She tells of a happy childhood, the only daughter of King Latinus, wandering the forests and fields of Latium with her best friend; of the sudden arrival of suitors vying for her hand in marriage, and thus the end of her freedom; of the Trojan stranger, foretold of in omens, who arrives on their shore; of the fated war fought with her own future as its prize. And she tells the story that comes after, of her happiness and heartbreak, victories and betrayals, and of her fierce, unyielding determination to protect her people and those she loves. 

Lavinia can certainly be enjoyed by those who haven't read The Aeneid---it's a great story, beautifully told, either way---but for those who have, it's simply stunning, a retelling of a classic tale that faithfully follows the threads and characters of the original while deftly smoothing out its inconsistencies, frustrations, and occasional illogicality. I felt as though I was not so much reading a new version of an ancient epic as experiencing Virgil's story through different, perhaps more thoughtful eyes, making it equal parts fascinating and delightful to follow Lavinia's classic tale: or, perhaps more accurately, to discover it. Given the casual misogyny of the original, it's immensely satisfying to read feminist Le Guin's take on The Aeneid, which, while faithful to the original, often approaches its content in a markedly different way. Lavinia is a compelling, independent character who never falls into the trap of some modern historical fiction which grafts modern opinions onto historical characters; even her cruel mother Amata, it is gently suggested, has suffered at the hands of patriarchy perhaps more than Virgil was willing to admit---or able to notice. 

Le Guin's mastery of building fantasy worlds is well-suited to evoking the still-rustic land of Latium before it was Rome, a place steeped in ancient tradition and folklore, guided by fate and strange omens as much as political strategy; she leaves the lines between history, ancient invention, and modern interpretation delightfully opaque. The final touch is the introduction of Virgil himself as a character, which, rather than detracting from the main story, enhances it with quiet questions of fate and perspective and who tells enduring tales, and gently reminds readers---and Lavinia herself---of the many layers of existence and opinion needed to tell a tale. Riveting and evocative, I would highly recommend Lavinia to readers ages fourteen and up. 

By Ella

Alliana has been raised in her stepmother's inn, relegated to menial chores. For years after her father's death, she was able to keep dreaming of fairy tales with the support of Grand-mother Mari, whose tapestries and stories showed Alliana a world beyond their tiny village. But now a year has passed since Grandmother Mari's death, and the only magic left in Alliana's life is the baby nightdragon she discovers she can talk to. She knows better than to think her stepmother will let her attend the Farmlands Ball, her only chance of escaping her small hometown and to be enrolled in the Royal Academy.

​But everything changes when she meets Nela, a young witch who needs her help. For the first time since Grandmother Mari's death, Alliana has a chance to reach the future she's always dreamed of--but if her stepmother finds out, it could doom her to a life trapped at the inn.

Will Alliana be trapped beneath her stepmother's power forever? Or can she still find her own happily ever after?

Alliana, Girl of Dragons is a prequel/companion book to the Eva Evergreen duology (Eva Evergreen, Semi-Magical Witch and Eva Evergreen and the Cursed Witch)​​, and if you liked Eva Evergreen, you'll definitely like Alliana too--they share a magical, whimsical world, strong writing, and brilliant characters. I particularly enjoyed how Abe reshapes the Cinderella fairy tale into a story that fits perfectly with the Eva Evergreen books, including several prominent overlapping characters. Once again, the small details of the worldbuilding make the setting come alive, and I felt fully engrossed in Alliana's adventure. I recommend Alliana, Girl of Dragons ​to readers ages ten and up.

By Ella

Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris is the sequel to Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos, and the second installment in the Theodosia series. 

[Look out--there are spoilers for the first book!]

After saving England from the sinister actions of the Serpents of Chaos, trouble has died down for Theodosia Throckmorton, daughter of the head curator of a London archaeology museum. Clearly, though, some peaceful time to catalog artifacts and remove some nasty lingering curses is too much to hope for, because after uncovering an artifact she is fairly certain is the legendary Staff of Osiris--imbued with the power to raise the dead--in the museum's basement, a small platoon of mummies appear in the foyer. The police are convinced her father stole them, but Theodosia believes they were summoned by the Staff of Osiris--and that the Serpents of Chaos are well aware of the mummies' unusual behavior. 

Determined to clear her family name, outwit the Serpents of Chaos, and avoid her grandmother's latest succession of prospective governesses, Theodosia sets out to solve this latest mystery before the Serpents of Chaos succeed in their latest plan--and use the Staff of Osiris for something far more sinister than moving the dead. 

Once more, Theodosia Throckmorton does not disappoint. Somewhat like a fantasy version of Flavia de Luce, she manages to be witty, sharp, and indisputably an eleven-year-old in the best possible way, making this series constantly surprising, unexpected, and brilliantly clever. Combining fantasy, mystery, historical fiction, and ancient Egyptian archaeology, Theodosia has a bit of everything, and it's all pulled off brilliantly well. I highly recommend Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris and the Theodosia series to readers ages ten and up who enjoy mysteries and fantasy novels. 

By Ella

The Last Fallen Moon is the sequel to The Last Fallen Star by Graci Kim, and the second book in the Gifted Clans trilogy. 

[Look out--there are spoilers for book 1!]

Riley Oh just saved the world--it seems like she should have a chance to celebrate. But since in the process nearly everyone she knows lost their memories of her and the Gom clan no longer has their healing gift...well, let's just say that not everyone is thrilled about what Riley has done. 

Determined to fix at least one of her mistakes, Riley enters the Spiritrealm, or the world of the dead, to recruit a new patron for the Gom clan and restore their healing powers. Only the Spiritrealm is in the midst of its own problems, and with the help of a mysterious, white-haired boy named Dahl, Riley has to figure out what's really going on and stop a particularly nefarious plot before the Spiritrealm and Mortalrealm are endangered. 

I loved The Last Fallen Star, so I was thrilled to read the sequel. I loved it! With the same hilarious characters, fast pace, and intricate plot as book one, The Last Fallen Moon lived up to my expectations and introduced me to a whole new side to Riley's world that was constantly funny, interesting, and unique. I particularly liked getting to know both old and new characters better during this story, especially Hattie and Dahl. I highly recommend The Last Fallen Moon to readers ages nine and up looking for a strong, exciting series full of mythology and magic. 

By Piranha T. 

Aru Shah and the Nectar of Immortality is the fifth and final book in the Pandava Quintet, which opened with Aru Shah and the End of Time. 

[Look out--there are spoilers below for earlier books in the series!] 

Aru Shah and her friends have lost their celestial weapons--and without them, they don't have a chance of entering the labyrinth in which the Nectar of Immortality is hidden. The Sleeper and his army are already there, though, and Aru knows she's running out of time. 

Together, Aru, Mini and Brynne--with lots of help from their friends--must trade in old favors, journey to the ends of the earth, and even perform at a rock concert to regain their weapons and stop the Sleeper in time. But what if the Pandava sisters aren't up for the task? And can Aru figure out the right thing to do in time? 

The first book in the Pandava Quintet, Aru Shah and the End of Time, was so funny, spot-on and brilliant that it made me think, there's no way the whole series can be this awesome. Having finished the final installment, Aru Shah and the Nectar of Immortality​, I can assure you that it is. The quirky characters, witty narrative and constantly engrossing story never flags; Aru and her friends--particularly Mini, Brynne and Aiden--manage to be both utterly hilarious and deeply relatable and understandable. Having reached the final page of the final book, I found myself wishing I could hang out with them some more! I highly recommend Aru Shah and the Nectar of Immortality​ (and the entire Pandava Quintet) to readers ages eight and up. 

By Piranha T. 

Taran is the Assistant Pig-Keeper of the oracular pig Hen Wen--a duty which he feels should be noble and meaningful, but instead leads to nothing remotely interesting. He longs to leave his home at Caer Dallben and adventure out into the world, where he imagines a world where heroes like Prince Gwydion keep evil at bay, and peril is never distant. 

But when Hen Wen escapes, and Taran follows her, he quickly learns that his dreams of sword-wielding heroism are not quite as he thought. Not only that, but Hen Wen may be in mortal danger--for the Horned King, the latest champion of the nefarious Arawn, is also searching for her as he seeks to rule all of the land of Prydain. And only Hen Wen knows the secret to defeating him. 

Now Taran must find Hen Wen before the Horned King--all while avoiding the dark beings sent to find her first. He finds help, too, though: from the hero Gwydion, who is very different from how he imagined him; from Fflewddur Fflam, a bard with a penchant from embellishing the truth; and from Eilonwy, a strong-willed girl who knows a bit about magic. But will it be enough to find Hen Wen in time, and save Prydain? 

The Book of Three is one of my enduring fantasy favorites, and when I reread it this summer, I found it just as good as I remembered. Alexander's prose is engrossing, his characters well-defined. Eilonwy in particular I feel the need to bring attention to; although far from perfect, and less so in successive books, she is one of the few female characters in fantasy of this era who has an interesting personality and a life beyond the male characters, although they do invariably stereotype her into the habitual and tight gender roles of this world. The land of Prydain (based on Welsh mythology) is interesting as well; for those who enjoy the inspiration of Welsh mythology in books like Over Sea, Under Stone, this series is particularly recommended. I recommend The Book of Three (and the successive books in the five-volume Chronicles of Prydain) to readers ages ten and up who enjoy high fantasy novels.