Avempartha is the second book in Sullivan's fantasy series and easily matches the quality of his debut, The Crown Conspiracy (review here!). The transition to this sequel is nice and smooth, and really shows how much it pays off to plan a series from the very beginning rather than winging it and retconning later on. Royce and Hadrian are still awesome and go off adventuring like no one's business. We also find out more about their pasts and get inklings of their major significance to the bigger story. This adds a hearty, meatier depth to their sugar-high swashbuckling. I still don't care at all about Prince Alric and Princess Arista and have to endure their character development. I wish Arista would just rip the Nyphron Church and everyone new ones and say "Screw you and your double standards for using magic, you hypocritical bigots. How'd you like this for witchcraft—" before she throws them facefuls of fireballs. But I imagine it'll be a few more books until Arista really busts out her magic and kicks some misogynist ass.
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Avempartha picks up where The Crown Conspiracy
leaves off, but the story is pretty self-contained. A farm girl named Thrace hires our reluctant heroes Royce and Hadrian to break into an elven tower—its name and picture proudly shown on the cover—and to retrieve from within a special sword, the only weapon that can kill the beast that's terrorizing her village. It's a great premise I think, classic fantasy. Going back to what I said in my review of the first book, I feel so dang comfy with these books and I settle in snug like you won't believe.
Thrace is a great new character, and makes up for Myron's absence in this book; I started rooting for her from the get-go. She's from a simple village and doesn't know the worldly ways of cities and kings. But she does know the importance of family and friends, personal responsibilty and courage, and all the real things that actually matter. I thought Thrace was just an inconsequential quest-giver in the beginning of the story, but Sullivan has grand plans for her—Avempartha's really her book. Her character climax coincides—not so coincidentally— with the book's climax in Chapter 14, "As Darkness Falls." Hooey, that chapter evoked the very feelings of awe, joy, and triumph that I specifically read fantasy to get evoked.
The world-building in this book rocks my socks, and finally more of the magical elements come into play. The titles of the books themselves reflect this shift in emphasis: we went from decidedly medieval castles, dungeons, and political assassinations in The Crown Conspiracy to fantastic wispy elven towers, magical beasts, and rune swords in Avempartha. Here's a taste of the atmosphere, as Sullivan introduces the titular tower in full descriptive prose:
Out in the middle of the river, at the edge of the falls, a massive shelf of bedrock jutted out like the prow of a mighty ship that ran aground just before toppling over the precipice. On this fearsome pedestal rose the citadel of Avempartha. Formed entirely of stone, the tower burst skyward from the rock shelf. A bouquet of tall, slender shards stretched upward like splinters of crystal or slivers of ice, its base lost in the billowing white clouds of mist and foam.
There's deep history here. The river the ancient tower sits on
separates human lands from the lands where the elves have retreated. They're still there on the other side, biding their time perhaps. And what's really cool, the tower uses the rushing torrents around it as a power source. A power source for what? RAFO.
As a petty aside, to save you undue stress and speculation, the beast is a dragon (it's also there on the cover). Now, Sullivan doesn't call it a dragon; he calls it a Gilarabrywn. But as far as the reader—and the entire Western culture—is concerned, a powerful flying lizard is a dragon. Too bad Mr. Sullivan! You can't win this one.
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The book ends on a cliffhanger of sorts. While the main plot centers around Thrace and the tower and the dragon, with Royce and Hadrian in the thick of things, other plots are a-brewin' at the periphery. The greater arc involving the Church, the Empire, and the Heir starts to engage and Sullivan's pulling out some of the stops. I'm going to stay vague and annoying about this because I care, dear readers.
You'll like this book if you liked the first book, as the
traditional fantasy style remains consistent so far across the books in the series. It doesn't look like Sullivan's going to go stream-of-consciousness on us or make the horses into viewpoint characters any time soon. I think you'll like this book even if you didn't like the first book very much. The world of Elan opens out and becomes more extraordinary here, stakes are higher, and events gain momentum and consequence. Onward to Nyphron Rising! 
