The follow-up novel in the Cemeteries of Amalo series, The Grief of Stones brings us back to Thara Celehar and his endless task of solving mysteries and investigating the dead—this time, with an apprentice. Since this is the second in the series, the characters and settings are well-established, though we do get new additions that mix things up somewhat. We get to explore areas previously mentioned in the first book in greater detail and we get to hear about some of the characters’ backstories, adding further layers of complexity to the series. Though the mystery elements in this book didn’t quite wow me, I appreciated the chance to see the world Addison has built up through Celehar’s perspective, and I also enjoyed how she touches on the theme of grief, among others.

As usual, Thara Celehar is one of my favorite characters, and here he once again takes the helm as a stellar protagonist. He is flawed, but not overly much; he is inquisitive and intelligent, but not showy about it. Despite the nature of his work, he maintains the compassion and good-heartedness that help him to easily win over the reader’s favor. In this book, I appreciated getting to see Celehar coming out of his shell more now that he realizes he has a support network of people that care about him and wish him well. Though, of course, he is reluctant to rely on them at first, he gradually grows more comfortable with the notion of leaning on them—and also thereby increasing his own self-esteem somewhat. His apprentice, Velhiro Tomasaran, was a welcome addition to the cast of characters; her ability to be a witness vel ama provides an interesting contrast from Celehar’s, since her abilities emerge so suddenly and in someone with very little training. She provides a fresh perspective, if a bit naïve at times. Of course, we also get to see Iäna Pel-Thenhior plenty; his character brings no shortage of delight in seeing Celehar attempt to organize how he feels about the doggedly persistent opera composer. The secondary characters, including some scholars from the University in Amalo, round out the balance sheet, especially considering the villainous figures who are almost kind of cartoonishly evil.

We also get to explore more of Amalo—not only the other cemeteries and shady prelates, but the setting focuses on a foundling school for young girls, and we also enlist the help of scholars from the University. By this point, the locations in Amalo have become more familiar to me, and it feels oddly familiar when Celehar and co. step on a tram or walk through certain neighborhoods; and there are even some callbacks to the previous novel’s characters on occasion. Once again, I’m not sure exactly how, but Addison manages to build a world that is quite immersive and engaging. With this book, I got quite comfortable following the characters do what they do, even if it wasn’t particularly groundbreaking, precisely because the world felt like it made a lot of sense, and the characters felt like their roles were reasonably apportioned within that. Addison’s writing style is impressive as usual, with her trademark descriptive-yet-not-overwhelming setting of scenes and slight edges of humor, even in dreadful situations. (There is a scene where Celehar laughs. Yes, he actually laughs, and it shocks the other characters.)

As with the other novels in the world of Ethuveraz, the plot is more of a light seasoning rather than a full-bodied flavor. However, it works well in this case, even for me, who typically prefers more plot-based action to move the story along. The mystery itself isn’t earth-shattering and fairly easy to figure out, but seeing it come to its conclusion was still quite satisfying. Celehar’s investigations bring him to heads with powerful people and conflict as well as serious danger, so there are still some stakes, but you still feel quite confident that Celehar will ultimately prevail. Of course, any serious victory must involve some degree of sacrifice, and Addison certainly doesn’t shy away from that concept here. If I might take issue with something, it would be that the mystery in this book was slightly less compelling than in the previous one, but that is perhaps because the main portion of the mystery is solved relatively early on within the book. Still, the remaining parts of the book were no less exciting, as there are of course plenty of politicking shenanigans and even scholarly discoveries that await.

I almost forgot to mention the themes that the book touches upon—chiefly grief, of course, but also trauma, what it means to have a purpose or calling, and how one’s identity is influenced by their purpose (or lack thereof). The latter of these is especially pertinent to many among my generation, particularly in the current turbulence of the times. This novel, as is hinted at in the previous book, also entertains the notion of questioning societal norms; here, young girls are ripe for abuse and mistreatment, particularly because they have very little recourse or function in Amalo’s society. Women are also scorned if they are seen as too foolhardy or determined to bring about reforms, as is our main murder victim here. These details are woven into the narrative with subtle yet deft hands, and Addison once again reminds us that fantasy is, among many other functions, a great way to reflect on our own society and norms. Celehar also struggles with his own grief, which he has been struggling with for pretty much all of the books—but here, he finally realizes what holding that grief means for him, exactly, and why he may be reluctant to let it go. Generational trauma and survivorship trauma also play a role here, but I won’t delve into too much detail since it could get into spoiler territory.

I am eagerly anticipating the third volume in this series, and I can only imagine how the characters and interactions might develop from where we have left them at this novel’s conclusion. I feel pretty confident about reading anything else that Katherine Addison could write in this world and trusting that it will go well. Thara Celehar goes through so much, and I really hope he gets a good bout of events to turn some of his luck around; at the very least, he has begun to expand his social circle and put away some of the lingering ghosts of grief and guilt from his past.