Change My Fate, Break My Curses

SPOILER ALERT
This review is for those who have read or are familiar with the previous book, All the Stars and Teeth, or don't mind knowing MAJOR spoilers for it.
SPOILER ALERT

~All the Tides of Fate~
All the Stars and Teeth
Book 2
By Adalyn Grace
Amazon ~ Powell's

Through blood and sacrifice, Amora Montara has conquered a rebellion and taken her rightful place as queen of Visidia. Now, with the islands in turmoil and the people questioning her authority, Amora cannot allow anyone to see her weaknesses.

No one can know about the curse in her bloodline. No one can know that she’s lost her magic. No one can know the truth about the boy who holds the missing half of her soul.

To save herself and Visidia, Amora embarks on a desperate quest for a mythical artifact that could fix everything―but it comes at a terrible cost. As she tries to balance her loyalty to her people, her crew, and the desires of her heart, Amora will soon discover that the power to rule might destroy her.


After reading the first book last year, I was eager to see how everything panned out for Amora and the Keel Haul crew. What with the Barracudas being unceremoniously dropped, the semi-dystopian world reveal, and Amora being cursed to be close to a man (torture, am I right?), there were quite a few threads left to explore. And so after (a slightly pained experience of) reacquainting myself with the series, I was ready to dive into the sequel and conclusion to this series.

Right off the bat, I was not thrilled with Amora. I guess I should cut her some slack, considering the amount of grief and upheaval she's experiencing all at once, what with her dad/ancestors being outed as tyrants, her losing her dad, her magic, and half her soul, while gaining control and responsibility for the kingdom all at once...but I still hated that her immediate intuition was to hoard secrets. I mean, she just learned that her dad/ancestors had kept the kingdom in line using this HUGE lie, and so her first act as ruler is to tell more lies, even to those she's spent an entire journey/book learning to trust. Yeah, she doesn't want to seem dependent and weak to anyone, what with being a new, untested ruler, and she's traumatized and working through grief, I get it. But just because I understand it, doesn't mean I like it.

Grief is its own major player this time around. Amora is rocked by guilt over her father's death, seeing her mistakes in judgement, in speed, in everything as being the direct cause of losing him, of robbing the kingdom of him. She's also at war with loving and missing her father, but also knowing he was a bad king. At various times, when she becomes overly stressed or something triggers her, Amora also experiences panic attacks. These episodes were hard to read at times, but I also appreciated the inclusion of what someone journeying through grief, PTSD, or anxiety may experience. I thought these depictions were both informative and respectful, though I would have liked a bit more done to address them in the conclusion, but I'll come back to that.

Another aspect I appreciated was the depiction of sexism toward women in power. While it's true that Amora is young and untested as a ruler, what with her last public display resulting in her losing control of her magic, the hoops she has to jump through in order for anyone to trust her are ridiculous and I loved whenever they were called out:

"I’m not sure if you felt it was okay to condescend to me because I’m a woman, because of my age, or simply because I’m new to this position and you felt the need to establish some sort of dominance you do not and will never have. But the next time you open your mouth to speak to me, remember that you’re talking to your queen. Do you understand?" [pg 12]

Unfortunately, that wasn't nearly as often as it was simply suffered internally with Amora repeating her mother's or advisor's reminders to smile, or make people comfortable. In fact, the bulk of the plot revolves around Amora journeying in search of a husband, since it would "help settle the kingdom," and make her vulnerable and soft, "and that softness is what people need to see" [pg 23]. Still, Amora and her female friends are always depicted as strong, independent, and capable, with those men who are closest to her also happily championing her feminist ideals. To a point...

Two things in particular rubbed me the wrong way. First, the artifact. I won't go into specifics without the spoiler button, but suffice it to say, I wasn't thrilled about mythology of the world suddenly reinventing itself. Then again, I don't know how much I can say about any mythology, considering there isn't much thought about it at all in the first book. The world-building is actually pretty sparse when it comes to their magic system, focusing more on Amora and her soul magic than anything else. Which is understandable when you think about it, since she's the main character and her journey is what we're focusing on. But the second book seems to veer into whole new territory with this world's magic system, and I guess I would have appreciated a bit more foreshadowing to tie the two together. Maybe some hints at legends or more info about their gods prior to now? More of a nitpick in the grand scheme of things, but still...

My other gripe with this book was its climax. Put simply, I did not like how Amora's curse was lifted; I thought the solution was shallow, and stunting the characters' growth up to this point, though I could also see some merits that outweighed the bad. Then I read the epilogue, and I changed my mind. It was worse.

In the climax, fatally injured, Ferrick chooses to use the godwoken scale to heal Amora's curse, taking the punishment (being forgotten by everyone) upon himself. While a heroic and bittersweet solution, I felt it robbed the main cast from feeling true grief, lessening the toll they paid for their happy ending. But I could also see it as a spur-of-the-moment idea that Ferrick came up with, a way to lessen the blow of his death and still achieve their goal of breaking the curse.

We then learn in the epilogue, through a note that Amora finds, that Ferrick had planned to do this sacrifice all along, even before he was "fatally injured." So instead of a spur-of-the-moment decision to make the best out of a bad situation, he had always planned to poof himself into non-existence (meaning his "fatal injury" might not have been unhealable after all). He took away Amora's choice. He didn't ask her permission, he didn't allow her to show her growth as a leader by accepting his help, he didn't even trust her to come up with another solution, instead her agency is stripped from her by a man. And yes, it being a man felt very relevant considering all the sexist talk of her not being fit to rule and make decisions—guess Ferrick felt the same way! Way to undermine your book's overtly pro-feminist message right at the end.

It didn't have to be this way. I thought the book was setting up alternatives to using the godwoken's scale: that Amora could still work magic and be at peace with Bastian at her side; that, if she was stepping down from the throne anyway, she didn't need to practice soul magic; or that maybe she could spin her loss of magic as a divine punishment for her family's crimes, and that she could still serve as an impartial judge with Bastian's help? I mean, there's no shortage of options that still gave Amora a "correct" choice, and a chance to show her growth, not just in her journey through grief, but in accepting responsibility and support from others. But all of that is just dropped for an ending where, not only does she get her magic and independence back, but she also decides to shirk all responsibility and go gallivanting (I did not get any indication that she would be eligible for election).

I also wasn't thrilled with the "happy" ending as it related to Amora's PTSD symptoms. The breakdown she has after Vataea leaves, with Bastian and Ferrick and crying on the deck is the last time she experiences the panic attacks, and then they're never mentioned again. This kinda implies that this breakdown moment cured her of all her PTSD, but I don't think that's how that works. From a mental health perspective, I would have appreciated more mention of her still dealing with her attacks, but that they came less often, or were more manageable with her techniques. Like when she has to say goodbye to Vataea (again), have her start to hyperventilate or tunnel vision, but then begin humming the sea shanty like before and come back quickly. Instead, her heart is breaking and she's trembling, but is seemingly cured of all other symptoms. Maybe it's just me, but it felt too sudden and neat and...magical? Oh gods, did Ferrick heal that too?! ARG!!!

So, no, I didn't like how this climax effectively performed character assassination on two of its main cast, not to mention the literal assassination of a character. Sure, Ferrick was prone to sacrificing himself (offering his bones/body parts to Amora, diving to rescue Vataea), but his actions robbing Amora of choice (one which was supposedly destined?) made the whole ordeal feel malicious. And Amora's abdication of the throne, while probably best for her mental health, as well as offering a "more just" form of governing, ended up feeling more like shirking responsibility and a shallow conclusion to her long-held goal of becoming a better leader. Apologies for the long spoiler-filled rant, but this ending just irked me in so many ways, and I'd love to discuss it further with anyone else who's read this book.

I feel like the climax acts as a messy patch job between a well-crafted story and a satisfying ending, harming both sides and making me question the value of the whole. While it successfully gets us from point X to point Z of the story, it does so without fully considering its ramifications toward characters and themes that came before. I've got to give it praise for eliciting a strong reaction and encouraging discussion, but unfortunately it was an extremely bitter note to end things for me, and I'm afraid it's soured my entire experience with the book(s).

Because I hate ending off things on a downer, I do want to quickly mention how much I loved Shanty and the LGBTQIA+ characters that were added/expanded upon here. In addition to the (blink-and-you'll-miss-it) bisexuality of Vataea from the first book, Shanty is confirmed to be lesbian, there's a non-binary advisor in the first couple chapters, and a prominent lesbian couple later on, so lots of visibility and inclusion on that front. Shanty was definitely my favorite character here. I loved how unapologetic she was: whether she was making mischief, threats, or magic she was always comfortable being herself. I wished we got a bit more with her—I honestly don't know where she was in a couple of the final chapters, and I missed her dearly.

Overall, this book did a lot of things well, great even, but it also had some huge missteps that brought it down for me. I loved the themes and messages this story brought out about journeying through grief and PTSD, the feminist motifs scattered throughout, and ultimately continuing the adventures of these characters who I'd grown to love. But while I enjoyed the ending, I felt like the climax clashed against those same aspects that the book fought so hard to establish, making me question my enjoyment of the saga as a whole. Obviously, if you enjoyed the first book, you'll have to read this one, and I would still recommend it and its predecessor for fans of YA, fantasy, adventure, and romance, despite my frustrations. (After all, how else will I get to discuss it with people?) I just hope you are fated with more enjoyment than I was.

Read by Natalie Naudus
Unabridged Length: 10.5 Hours
Listened at 2x Speed

New narrator this time around, which isn't something I've come across before. Still, since I was less than happy with some of the voices/choices from the last book, I was willing to keep an open mind about the change-up.

Surprisingly, some of the voices sounded familiar. Amora and general narration sounded pretty close to the last reader, and Bastian still had some grit to him, like he just needed a good clearing of the throat. The most change was in Ferrick who (thank the gods) was no longer nasally, and Vataea who no longer sounds like she's from the Caribbean, but rather kept a musical lilt going. Unfortunately, the rest of the cast sounded pretty samey, with female voices being a bit more varied, but men only having a couple distinctions. I suppose I don't mind trading memorable voices for not cringing.

Overall, a fine production that'll serve to get you through the story. As with most fantasy books, I always find it handy to have an audio pronouncing the foreign words, and this time is no different. No huge changes in the text, just a word added or dropped a couple times, probably in service to the flow. Still wish there were musical bits when its relevant to the story (like humming a shanty), but it's more uncommon to have them than not. So, maybe not one to hold up as a shining example of all that audiobooks could be, but a serviceable production that gets the job done and concludes the duology well.