Review of "Escala's Wish" by David James

Score: 93/100 (9.3 out of 10)

What happens when a thrill-seeking pixie discovers her “harmless” kiss has warped the fate of two worlds? How far must she go to make it right?

Escala's Wish by David James is a rich, character-driven fantasy that feels like listening to a veteran bard spin his finest tale at the best table in the tavern. It is funny, heartfelt, and surprisingly heavy, a book that starts with a mischievous faerie prank and slowly reveals itself to be about love, regret, and the cost of trying to fix what you broke.

We follow Escala Winter, a pixie princess of the Court of Dreams who treats mortals and their feelings like toys. One enchanted kiss, meant as a joke and a thrill, wrecks a young man’s life and sends shockwaves through the True Cycle that governs life, death, and rebirth. Hauled back to court and forced to face what she did, Escala is given a brutal alternative to execution. She is cast out into the mortal world and ordered to remove “boulders” from the True Cycle, setting right the blockages and distortions that fey meddling and Void magic have caused.

While the premise itself isn't really that new (mythological figures like Thor and Susanoo have had to mingle with the humans and the human realm to atone for their previous errors; it's a bit of a trope), there is something fresh and exciting about following a fae/fairy through this arc. This is especially true since Escala is a likable, playful, and sorta funny fairy, almost in a Tinker Bell-kinda way. She is a princess, first and foremost, and she comes across as quite bratty and entitled in the beginning. It seems like she doesn't think her choices and actions should have consequences and that her father, being the king, should be able to bail her out.

On one hand, that did kinda get a rise out of us. Like, any parent or child can feel the conflict and tension there. It's natural for parents to want to protect their children, even after they've done something bad. It's also natural for children to expect their parents to protect them and love them unconditionally.

To be perfectly honest, this book took a while to get going and to become interesting. The actual court drama felt a bit flat. We just weren't feeling it. Yes, there were people trying to figuratively throw Escala under the bus. Yes, there was the father-daughter conflict we talked about. However, we kept hoping things would pick up. And, thankfully, they did!

This book became so much more compelling and interesting once the court's verdict was reached and Escala's sentence was carried out.

Escala is thrust into a less familiar world (the mortal realm) in a form that is entirely different from the one she was used to (a high elf). That means: no wings, no effortless zipping through the air, no shrinking down to a glittering speck, and no hiding behind the protections of her father or the Court. She has to walk, tire, bleed, and feel the full weight of gravity and consequences like any other mortal person, which makes her growth feel a lot more grounded and real.

It is fascinating to watch her wrestle with these physical and emotional adjustments on top of learning how to navigate mortals like the elves. She is suddenly on eye level with people she once looked down on, forced to negotiate, apologize, and earn trust instead of just dazzling or charming them with pixie tricks. That clash between who she was in the Court and who she has to be among mortals gives a lot of her later interactions an extra layer of tension, humility, and sometimes humor.

And that's perhaps one of this book's best traits: it's humorous.

The book becomes an episodic quest story in the best way. Escala gathers a party who feel very much like a tabletop group you would actually want to play with. There is Wigfrith, the gnome bard whose tavern framing gives the whole book its voice. There is Roedyn, the quiet, steadfast fighter who loves through action. There is sharp tongued Harper, compassionate goblin druid Sticky, and a supporting cast of mages, sprites, and ordinary townsfolk whose lives have been twisted into knots by past mistakes.

One of the things this book does very well is character growth. Escala starts as an absolute menace, vain and self absorbed, logging tiny good deeds as if helping a shopkeeper with a cart is enough to balance out the curse she laid on a mortal boy. Watching her slowly realize that real boulders are things like grief, guilt, magical bondage, and undead children feels earned. By the time she is making world bending wishes for other people instead of herself, you believe she has traveled the long, uncomfortable road from thrill seeker to queen.

The emotional core of the book is the Winter family. Rowan, the ruler of the Court of Dreams, and Teresa, the mortal woman he loved, are the quiet heart that keeps beating beneath all the Void storms and tower battles. Teresa’s letters, Rowan’s song about chasing laughter through moonlit woods, and Escala’s resentment toward the mother she believes abandoned her all build toward some of the most affecting scenes in the story. The sequence in which Escala finally holds her dying mother and hears the truth about that old song is devastating in the best way. The epilogue, in which that same song finally leads Teresa back to Rowan by the creek, feels like a long awaited exhale.

The world building is another strength, even if it occasionally comes in big, lore heavy chunks. The True Cycle, the Wane, the Vorrash Totem, the Void vortex over Blackthorn Tower, and the five different ways fey can come into being all make this feel like a campaign setting that actually has depth and history. The framing device, with Wigfrith telling this story in The Stag and Hound, keeps things grounded. It reminds you that, in the end, this is a bard trying to make sense of what he lived through and what it cost his friends.

The villains are suitably large and operatic. Victor Graves, driven by grief and jealousy, weaponizes Void magic and his own undead son in a way that is more tragic than cackling. Morvena and her crowd lean into the beautiful but poisonous courtly archetype. None of them are subtle, but they are effective foils for a story that is going for big, mythic stakes rather than quiet domestic realism. Victor turning Blackthorn Tower into a literal hole in the sky is exactly the kind of over the top set piece a story like this deserves.

Another thing we appreciated about this book is how it's conversational and personable. It has a voice. And that's because it's framed as sort of a tavern tale. A gnome bard, Wigfrith Foreverbloom, stands outside The Stag and Hound in Dunwell, pulling in a high-end crowd by promising a true story he has never told before.

To be perfectly honest, this was both a good and a bad thing. It's a good thing in that it makes the telling of this book seem more lively and—like we said—conversational and personable. It is kinda a bad thing in that it sometimes feels a bit self-indulgent and pulls you out of the moment. There are times when you really want to stay locked in on Escala, Rowan, Teresa, or Victor, but then Wigfrith cuts in with an aside to his audience or a little commentary about storytelling itself. It is clever and in character, but every so often it can feel like the bard is standing in front of the stage when you really just want to watch the play.

There are times when you as a reader just want to immerse yourself into the story and characters without having a narrator barging in all the time. There are times it actually becomes disruptive and annoying. That's not to say that Wigfrith himself isn't charming and charismatic, it's just that he can sometimes be a bit... much.

In spite of those types of things, Escala's Wish eventually won us over. The character work is strong, the emotional beats land, and by the time the Void storm is raging over Blackthorn Tower, you actually care who lives, who dies, and who gets one more chance to set things right. This is one of those books that sneaks up on you. It starts as a mischievous fairy romp and quietly turns into a story about family, forgiveness, and choosing to love people even when it hurts.

Another thing that struck us between the eyes is the concept of removing rocks/boulders from someone's spiritual path, which Escala is required to do as part of her sentence. That reminded us a lot of Sean Albertson's book Alignment on the Rocks, which was a non-fiction/self-help demonstration of that concept.

So, yes, it can be a bit wordy, a bit lore heavy, and occasionally a bit too in love with its own bard, but the heart of it is solid. If you enjoy character driven fantasy with a tabletop feel, big set pieces, and a surprising amount of genuine feeling, Escala's Wish is definitely worth your time if you love fantasy and fairy stories.

Check it out on Amazon!