Guilt-Edged Ivory by Doris Egan

Theodora and Ran are back to their normal life on Ivory, with "normal" being a maelstrom of deadly political intrigue and personal yet aristocratic-level drama. When these two forces come together, Ran again looks guilty of a crime he didn't commit. He and Theo search for the real culprit to clear their family name, but will Theo allow herself to be drawn too far into this dangerous game?

As mentioned, I'm on a quest to close out any unfinished yet liked series. Doris Egan's Ivory series meets these criteria and then some. The first book in the series—The Gate of Ivory—remains one of my absolute favorite ForFemFan finds. If you haven't read it, I suggest you stop now, order a copy, and come back later.

(Aside from the fact that Theo and Ran are both alive and together on Ivory—things I'd consider givens—I don't think I spoil anything. The Gate of Ivory is just that good of a book.)

Okay, so we're back in Ivory's capital, and Ran is again a suspect in a crime he didn't commit: the murder of the son of, essentially, a royal family. 

The victim's family hires Ran to investigate the murder precisely because they suspect he was the hired assassin. By inviting Ran into their circle, they're essentially telling Ran's hypothetical employer that they're willing to talk.

Ran takes the job to try to clear his name; if he can find the killer, people will no longer suspect him. Mostly. If he can't find the killer, though, there's no serious concern. The authorities won't come after him; the other houses won't scorn him. Perhaps a few people will speculate about Ran's involvement, but it's far from damning.

This is good; another book dedicated to Ran on the run from the law might have felt like treading over familiar ground.

This is bad, though, because the plot stakes are low. At any point, Ran, Theo, and the gang can walk away from the investigation, no questions asked, without any concerns.

This is also bad because the book essentially becomes a whodunit.

I have nothing against whodunits; they can be a lot of fun. But whodunits rely on independent characters. The investigator can't get truly chummy with the suspect or the witness. And the relationship between the suspect and the witness probably will be covered without special care. In short, each character has to shine, but they tend to shine individually.

The special sauce of Doris Egan's writing is the relationships between her characters. It's the subtle things and how these subtle things build that crescendoes into undeniable brilliance. And that's pretty much absent.

We still have Ran and Theo, but their relationship can feel a little strained, and there's less to discover there. We've already had two books exploring their relationship.

Kylla is around, and while her relationship with Theo is still delightful, it's not particularly highlighted. And, again, they're already very well acquainted with each other.

An old friend shows up and is somewhat involved, and he's one of my favorite parts of the book because there's more nuance there. There's even one new character that feels like he has the potential to be as grand as the characters of previous novels, but the plot necessitates some distance between him and Theo.

Between the low-stakes plot and Theo's lack of good relationships with new characters, it just feels like something is missing.

I think Egan tried to counter this by throwing Theo into the investigation full-tilt. She's in mortal danger (because, of course, someone doesn't want them to find the culprit) over something she could walk away from, and yet she charges headfirst into more danger without much thought. It's not so over the top to be obnoxious, but it is a little out of character for Theo and thus feels a little inauthentic.

Oddly, I did like the b-story of Theo's fertility. She's worried about whether or not she and Ran can reproduce, given their very different backgrounds. What's more, she's worried that any pregnancy might end in disaster. And yet, if she cannot bear a Cormallon child, Ran will be forced to take another wife who can. She's in a tight spot.

This is a much more human storyline that relies on relationships and characterization. It's maybe not a storyline that I usually would gravitate to, but I can feel what makes Doris Egan's writing special within it. Which only made the other sections feel a little less full.

All of that said, it's not like Guilt-Edged Ivory is a bad book or anything. I cruised through it, never once second-guessing why I was reading it. Written by anyone else, my review would have been along the lines of "an above-average sff novel with a likable (if perhaps thick-headed) protagonist perfect for when you want something light." But with the memory of what I loved about the rest of the series still in my head, when I look back on Guilt-Edged Ivory, I can see what's missing.

No regrets, I absolutely would do-over. And it’s still far better than most books I read for ForFemFan. But by my metrics, this is by far the weakest novel of the Ivory series.

Cover art by Richard Hescox: