Review of "Talismans" by Craig P. Miller

Score: 94/100 (9.4 out of 10)

Are you up for some fantasy adventure? Well, Talismans by Craig P. Miller might just fit your fancy!

In the spirit of Tolkien, this book features a sprawling, lore rich world as well as an ensemble cast of colorful, fantastical characters. We travel across the continent of the Antipodes, from the harsh empire of Makari in the south to the embattled kingdom of Keldana in the north, with a lethal barrier of desert and marsh between them. It feels like a real place, complete with history, politics, and regional quirks that do not exist just to serve the plot but to shape it.

On the Makari side, we follow Borman, a physically crooked but magically gifted True Lord who survives in a brutal, survival of the fittest culture through sheer brains and preparation. He studies obscure tomes in the peer’s library, crafts clever talismans, and perfects what he calls the “Ways of the Weak,” winning battles through insight rather than brute force. His discovery of a viable route across the Great Desert is the first domino that allows Makari forces to threaten Keldana, and it quietly turns him from a near expendable into someone the powerful can no longer ignore.

On the Keldanan side, we start with something much smaller and more intimate. Ross Cambridge is a tall, lanky fiddler in the village of Stallwort, the kind of quietly decent young man who plays at the local inn, helps his parents, and blushes around his clever friend Salena. When the Makari threat spills north, Ross is swept up alongside a memorable supporting cast: Tilly, a gentle yet formidable healer who carries an ancient Light called Thy’mara, Hallen, a se’swani talisman wright and mentor, fierce warrior Maeve Whenell, and Damon Tambour, a nobleman turned Ranger who is haunted by guilt and grief.

The magic system in this book (and series) is interesting. Talismans in this world are not just trinkets, they are carefully designed collaborations between human crafters and mysterious beings of Light called Quathiels. Ross’s training sequences, in which he falls into a trance and “watches” countless bright points of awareness dance in the dark as they co design new talismans, are some of the most imaginative and satisfying magic scenes we have read in a while. The magic here feels at once mystical and technical, as if you are watching high level artisans and engineers working together, only the engineers happen to be sentient sparks.

Talismans also does not shy away from the cost of war and power. The Makari invasion is not an abstract threat; it means terrified villages, doomed charges, grieving parents, and leaders scrambling for any advantage. When Ross channels his growing abilities into a massive flood that saves the city of Tambourtynne but kills many in the process, the book takes a very gutsy route. He is hailed and feared at the same time, then scapegoated by priests and authorities who owe their lives to him. It is a powerful example of how a “miracle” can be both salvation and catastrophe, and it gives the ending a bittersweet, unsettled tone that really stuck with us.

Stylistically, this leans into classic epic fantasy. There are invented terms, long journeys, political councils, and a large cast. The upside is a world that feels deep and fully imagined. Even minor figures have a place in the wider tapestry, and the appended cast and glossary help drive home that sense of scope. The tradeoff is that it can be dense at times. Readers who prefer very streamlined, fast paced fantasy may find the learning curve steep in the early going, while readers who enjoy sinking into a thick, carefully built world will likely be thrilled.

If we have any quibbles, they are mostly about that density. This is a very dense book, and it always feels like it's building, setting up, or just dragging us along without giving us fulfillment. That's part of the downside of this being the first in the series. There are a lot of scenes of characters doing fairly mundane things, joking, and laughing together, and while those moments help build camaraderie and a lived in feel, they sometimes soften the tension and slow the pace when the plot is pressing forward. Readers who love hanging out with a cast and soaking in their banter will probably enjoy this, but readers who prefer every scene to drive the main arc might find themselves wishing the story would tighten up a bit more often.

There is also plenty of comic relief sprinkled through the quieter stretches. One moment has Maeve poised in a textbook perfect hunting stance with her bow, only for her cover to be blown because her backside is sticking out, and another has Hallen dryly remarking, “Perhaps she is full of answers... Was she always so full of... joy?” Little beats like these keep the tone buoyant and give the cast a believable, teasing rhythm, even when the larger story is barreling toward war. At the same time, this does tend to cut the tension a bit.

We'll say that this book has one of the best opening lines of any book. The writing is beautiful and detailed, sometimes overly so (to the point where it becomes flowery and borish). This is solid epic fantasy fiction.

Check it out on Amazon!