This second book in the Clocktaur War duology begins where the first one ended, with the four protagonists arriving in Anuket City and starting their undercover work to sabotage the dangerous clocktaurs. Learned Edmund enrolls the help of a master artificer, Ashes Magnus (discovering to his enormous surprise that she’s a woman, and therefore further eroding his misconceptions about the other sex), while Slate, Brenner and Caliban must infiltrate the city’s seedier quarters in search of information while Grimehug, the gnole they encountered along the way and who attached himself to Slate, is revealed as a very helpful co-conspirator.
As for Slate, the dangers inherent in returning to Anuket City, which she left to escape the retaliation of crime lord Horsehand, manifest quite suddenly and with potentially deadly consequences, while the foursome’s investigation on the origin of the clocktaurs leads to a terrible discovery and a dangerous infiltration mission from which not all of them will return…
Much as I enjoyed the first part of this duology, I have to admit that this second installment, while still reasonably engaging, did not work as well: for starters, the growing attraction between Slate and Caliban did not feel quite integral to the story, and it pushed the true reason for the quartet’s mission somewhat in the background. It was not because of my aversion to romance, because usually T. Kingfisher manages this element quite well in balancing it with a good dose of humor, but rather because there were no sufficient elements in the relationship to make it believable: there is no doubt about the mutual physical attraction, but their personalities are often in conflict, with no apparent possibility of common ground on which to establish a love story – this is quite different from other relationships portrayed in Kingfisher’s later books, and a bit disappointing. On top of that, the rivalry between Caliban and Brenner over Slate’s affections moves from the first book’s amusingly barbed banter into what looks like hormone-fueled clashes, sliding into the trope of the love triangle and robbing this side of the story of its entertainment value.
Luckily for me, I could focus on the very intriguing aspect of gnole culture: thanks to Grimehug we are made privy to the rich and layered gnole society and the way these creatures, alternately despised, feared and ignored, have carved their niche into human society. Grimehug himself is a delightful character, particularly when he shares his (not very flattering) views on humanity’s behavior, and I liked the way he attached himself to Slate: the bond of friendship between them was indeed one of the higher points in the story, as was Learned Edmund dedication in compiling a treatise on gnoles so that they could be better understood – and appreciated.
When not mooning over Slate, Caliban offers another interesting peek into the paladin mentality, particularly where the connection to one’s god is concerned: there is a fascinating dichotomy here, because on one side we are told about this connection to the divine and the constant battle with demon possession, on the other a paladin’s role seems mostly mundane – at least according to Caliban whose activities largely consisted in the exorcism of possessed animals. And yet, Caliban feels the absence of his god most keenly, and at one point seems almost tempted to accept the offer of another god to fill that void – which made me wonder if his attachment to Slate was not an attempt to do exactly that, rather than a genuine feeling…
Story-wise, The Wonder Engine sees the culmination of the four characters’ mission and the discovery of what originated the creation of the clocktaurs, and does so with a good deal of suspense laced with humor that kept me turning the pages at a fast pace: the steampunk element introduced with the clocktaurs is a nice touch in this fantasy setting and also adds a few gory details that heightened the tension. I must add that there is a surprise development concerning one of the main characters which I suspected must be there since the first book, but still managed to appear surprising thanks to its unexpected placement in the story: without spoiling the surprise, I have to say that Slate’s reaction to this revelation and its consequences played very well and served to depict her personality even more accurately.
When all is said and done, I enjoyed the conclusion of the duology even though it did not feel on the same level as other works by T. Kingfisher: still, the entertainment value of her stories remains high and I’m not going to let this slightly disappointing encounter distract me from reading her other novels.
