Exiled from his family of traders in mystical goods and services on his 23rd birthday, the merchant magician must make his way in the world: meeting mermaids in San Francisco, Midwestern leprechauns, Icelandic dwarves, and the girl of his dreams.
A girl who happens to be a cultist devoted to the rise of the great old ones who will consume the world in ash and fire when they awaken.
Urban fantasy, mythology, and slice-of-life walk into a bar, and the result is something genuinely unlike most things out there. Our protagonist is a merchant magician, sent out by his trading family to make his fortune and prove himself before he can return. He’s refreshingly unsnobby about it too: willing to wash dishes or pull espresso shots if that’s what it takes to get started. The tone is easygoing and breezy, and his approach to business is one of the book’s quiet pleasures. He’s been raised to bargain well, but in the way that leaves everyone happy to work with you again rather than feeling outmanoeuvred.
The world he moves through is genuinely creative, from San Francisco mermaids to Midwestern leprechauns to Icelandic dwarves, and the blend of urban fantasy, mythology, and cosy slice-of-life makes for something with a lot of charm. The book’s main limitation is that it’s doing a lot in a short space, and the world never quite gets the depth it deserves. A romantic subplot that circles the same moment repeatedly without developing also takes up space better spent elsewhere.
The ending overshoots what the book has built. This is a quiet, cosy story at heart, and it would have been better served by a quieter problem to solve. The stakes leap to universe-ending territory and then collapse just as fast, and the whiplash undercuts what came before.
If you want urban fantasy with a protagonist who’ll bargain with a leprechauns just as well as washing dishes without complaint, this one’s for you. Charming, creative, and easy company.
