Mortals mixing with their gods is not exactly a new idea in fantasy writing, but with her debut novel, the first instalment of the obligatory trilogy, N.K Jemesin shows an ability to make the idea work extremely well – there are genuine echoes of ancient Greek and Norse mythology, with gods and mortals rubbing shoulders, each envious of the others inherent strengths. In her heroine, Yeinne Darr, the author has created a character readers can relate to – neither improbably skilled nor preternaturally attractive, she is thrust in to a maelstrom of magic and politics where all sides are out to manipulate her – the equally beguiling and repellent floating city of Sky.

Yeine is from the barbarian north of her world, and, we gradually learn, from an intriguing Amazon-like people where gender stereotypes are reversed and women have all the power and the responsibility. She has been summoned to Sky by her grandfather, Dekarta Arameri, the head of the family that rules the world – the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms – from Sky. As effective High Priest to the god Bright Intempas, the aged Dekarta wields huge power – specifically, the ability to command other gods who fought a war against Intempas and lost: Kurue, Zhakkarn, the childlike Sieh and most importantly of all Nahadoth, one of the Three, the god of Darkness. Not for nothing are these imprisoned gods known as weapons.

As a member of the world-ruling Arameri family, Yeinne has the power to command the gods (though great care is required in dealings with them) – but she finds that they have plans for her too. While she is discovering the ways in which she has been made an accessory to their age-old conflict, and falling in love (or perhaps lust) with the smouldering Nahadoth, she also has to contend with the fact that her grandfather has named her a potential heir to his throne. Stuck in the forbidding Sky palace, with allies whose motivations do not always co-incide with her own, and rivals who desire her death, Yeine must use her wits to try and survive the situation she has been thrown in to, as well as saving her home nation from the threat posed by jealous neighbours.

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is not world-building fantasy – at 398 pages, this book is refreshingly easy to digest – but the location here is less important that the action and the underpinning mythology, which has echoes of Steven Erikson’s gods of light, dark and shadow. The key to the enjoyment is the quality of characterisation that Jemisin achieves with her narrator and with the gods she must interact with – Nahadoth genuinely feels implacable, ferocious yet capable of great tenderness, while Yeinne herself feels real, three dimensional, someone the reader wants to protect and care for. In the next volume the world below the floating city of Sky will be seen far more, so the author will have plenty of time to show her world-building skills, but this volume should be enjoyed as one of the freshest new fantasy voices we have had for quite some time. (It’s also the first book that’s ever made me miss my stop on the London Underground, so immersed was I!)

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