Faeries Never Lie
Zoraida Córdova and Natalie C. Parker, eds.
Hardcover / Ebook
ISBN: 9781250823847
Feiwel & Friends, September 24, 2024, 336 pgs

Editors Zoraida Córdova and Natalie C. Parker have put together a “can’t miss” anthology with Faeries Never Lie. Having reviewed Córdova’s anthology Reclaim the Stars for the December 2021 issue of Lightspeed (VERY favorably), I was excited to get my grubby little hands on this book. In fact, this is book three in the “Untold Legends” anthology series, which began with Vampires Never Get Old in 2020 and continued with Mermaids Never Drown in 2023—both of which, by the way, I found out about too late to review.¹

Some folks will pick this book up automatically based on author recognition: Kwame Mbalia, L.L. McKinney, Dhonielle Clayton, Christine Day, Holly Black, Rory Power, and more. I am often skeptical of anthologies featuring a “usual set” of solicited authors; or for that matter, books that look like the selling point is the glittering names rather than the quality of the stories. I can assure y’all that the quality of the stories is high. These aren’t just a bunch of trunk stories or phoned-in pieces put together by authors who get too many invites. You are in good hands with these storytellers. Córdova and Parker have gathered fourteen pieces altogether. I’ll talk about a few of the tales on offer and leave the rest for your discovery. Honestly, even this hurts a little bit—sometimes a story is even more enjoyable when you don’t know anything about it, and I feel like this is the case with so many of the entries in this book.

Chloe Gong has become, for me, one of those names that will sell an anthology, mainly because I have really enjoyed several of her short stories before. “An Eternal Fire” is her contribution to Faeries Never Lie, and it doesn’t disappoint. Gong has a way of immediately entertaining the reader while also engaging them, painting the picture of a character we want to know with just a few strokes, but doing so with distinctive voice and tone. Within a couple of paragraphs, we are hooked, and we know a bit about Mimi, and her relationship with her family, and her circumstances; enough to be eager to know more. It’s 750 CE in Chang’an and Mimi helps her grandfather with his pottery shop. She is a bit of a misfit; not quite the “ideal daughter”—but she’s smart and wonderfully willful. Of course, Mimi’s grandfather falls ill, and of course, she then has a run-in with a faerie. The energetic storytelling itself makes the read fun, and because you like the characters, the admittedly somewhat expected setup actually feels compelling and new. This is how a skilled writer flexes, y’all, and it’s a joy to read! There’s also a dash of mystery tied to an intriguing family heirloom just to add another layer in. Gong demonstrates expertise in giving the story just enough detail to embrace characters, to feel situated in place and feel comfortable with ideas, but not so much that the narrative is cluttered or slows down, making everything well-paced. A dash of humor rounds things off, as we follow Mimi while she chases and confronts what may be a playful or perhaps obnoxious (depending on your perspective) being. Where the story goes is at least somewhat unexpected, while also being thoughtful and heartwarming. Altogether a great read.

Anna-Marie McLemore is an expert at quickly developing a wonderfully intricate and engaging story, with characters that you want to root for. In “Blue Amber” two attendants are in enemy territory with their princess, on a mission. The secret parts of the mission include assassination and spying. There’s also a bit of troublesome romance, and there may (or may not) be signs of faeries who may (or may not!) be upset that one of the attendees is impersonating them. Despite opening pages which lay out all of this and more, the story feels smooth and character-driven. In the midst of all this Ondina, our attendee protagonist, has an encounter with a faerie, which leads to an unexpected and lovely story resolution. McLemore blends the perfect amount of wonder with story structure and subtext, crafting a well-balanced, striking tale.

“The Night and her Darkness” by Nafiza Azad begins with poetic lines that pull in the reader. But what follows is a brutal and incredible tale of resilience and resistance, wherein Hania must survive an isolated life with violent parents. Hania is a wonderful and doomed character even before the faerie shows up, but the faerie provides another dimension, and in a sense becomes a filter to what could otherwise be an overwhelmingly intense and depressive piece. Aspects of the faerie and the way things work are fresh to me, but what makes this story special is Hania and where it all lands at the end. It’s quite powerful, with unexpected moments that make it even stronger.

One of my favorites in the book—in an anthology bursting with great fiction—is definitely “Ask Twice” by Ryan La Sala. What La Sala does really well here, for me, is to take something so fantastic and ground it in human emotion, making for a truly absorbing story. Saturn ran away from home, feeling more than just out of place. Saturn feels like a monster and is pretty sure that “mother” is just a title, not a blood-tied relationship. Now Saturn is trying to keep that pesky shadow at bay . . . Saturn’s severed shadow has become a monstrous thing, which La Sala uses beautifully to parallel Saturn’s own feelings of self. Meanwhile, Saturn has joined a ballet and must use dancing and the theater to keep that shadow away. La Sala paints a mysterious, intriguing figure of Saturn, while also infusing the character with human vulnerability beyond the already potent tragedies of the setup, making this a character we need to follow. La Sala also does a good job of infusing creepiness into the shadow. As the story progresses, La Sala reveals bits that give a wonderful “oh, shit!” experience, flashing (occasionally bloody) surprises, but not necessarily leaning on the surprise element too much. Just as Saturn is haunted by a detached shadow, the theater itself is haunted, by developers who want to transform it into condos as well as folks who just don’t like gay bars and drag queens. A car has been seen circling the area, raising the tension of the story yet another notch. But ultimately this story is about hope, and family, and belonging, and more. La Sala takes the reader through the tides of the narrative, which includes vibrant imagery and interpersonal complications, then delivers the reader onto the shores of a conclusion that will have you in tears.

Some of the stories in Faeries Never Lie have hallmarks and trappings which many readers will find familiar, like faerie rules and glimpses of the other side. There are even pieces which are inspired by or play on specific faerie stories and tropes. Others treat the faerie concept as essentially a strange power and could potentially be labeled with terms besides specifically “faerie.” Then again, outside of a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, who gets to say what the term “faerie” means? The word’s usage is so wide ranging that perhaps it is the right of the author to label their beings as they wish. Transformations tend to be central to these stories, even when those transformations are subtle but important. If you read this book and end up quibbling about how to define the term “faerie” then you are seriously missing out. These stories are layered and nuanced and pack emotional punches. Let these authors take you on the journeys they’ve laid out. You’ll be absolutely enchanted and, hopefully, return with a glimmer of magic in your heart.

¹. Blinks meaningfully at publicists . . . Even this review is coming in “late” but luckily, in this case, the fantastic Chantal Gersch sent a note about the book to Locus, and VOILA! Here comes my review!