Maria Z. Medina’s debut fantasy Mistress of Bones arrives with the weight of ambitious world-building and the delicate touch of a writer who understands that the most powerful magic often comes from the deepest grief. This is a novel that dares to ask uncomfortable questions about consent, sacrifice, and the lengths we’ll go to for those we love—even when they can no longer tell us what they want.
Set in a world where gods literally chained themselves to create the continents, binding their bones beneath the earth to anchor land and sea, Medina crafts a mythology that feels both ancient and urgently relevant. The sacrifice of the divine becomes a mirror for human sacrifice, particularly for Azul del Arroyo, whose necromantic abilities mark her as both blessed and cursed in the eyes of her world.
The Heart of Darkness: Azul’s Obsessive Love
Azul del Arroyo is not your typical fantasy heroine. At nineteen, she carries the weight of a secret she’s harbored since childhood—the ability to resurrect the dead through their bones. When her beloved sister Isadora dies a second time (having been secretly brought back once before), Azul embarks on a desperate quest to the capital city of Cienpuentes to reclaim Isadora’s bones from the royal ossuary.
What makes Azul fascinating is her moral complexity. Medina refuses to paint her protagonist as purely sympathetic. Azul’s love for Isadora borders on obsession, and her refusal to consider whether Isadora would want to be resurrected reveals a selfishness that drives much of the novel’s conflict. The author doesn’t shy away from examining the ethics of resurrection—a theme that becomes increasingly relevant as we meet other characters grappling with similar questions.
The relationship between the sisters, told through flashbacks and Azul’s memories, forms the emotional core of the novel. Medina captures the intensity of sibling devotion with particular skill, showing how Azul has defined herself entirely through her connection to the more outgoing, confident Isadora. When that anchor is lost, Azul’s identity crisis becomes as much a threat as any external enemy.
A Web of Power and Corruption
The supporting cast brings both strength and occasional weakness to the narrative. Virel Enjul, the Emissary of the Lord Death, serves as Azul’s primary antagonist and reluctant ally. His duty to his god conflicts with his growing understanding of Azul’s motivations, creating a tension that Medina handles with considerable nuance. However, their relationship sometimes feels rushed, particularly in moments where romantic undertones emerge.
More successful is the character of Sergado de Gracia, the Marquess whose scientific approach to necromancy provides a chilling contrast to Azul’s emotional motivations. Where Azul resurrects out of love, Sergado creates mindless puppets for power and control. His sections of the novel are among the most disturbing and effective, particularly when we see him speaking through his reanimated victims.
The Faceless Witch presents another fascinating study in power and identity. Her ability to possess others while her original body wastes away serves as a dark mirror to the themes of resurrection and bodily autonomy that run throughout the novel. Medina’s exploration of what it means to inhabit a body not your own adds philosophical depth to what could have been a simple villain.
World-Building: Ambitious but Inconsistent
Medina’s world-building shows both impressive creativity and occasional structural weaknesses. The concept of gods sacrificing their bones to create the continents is genuinely innovative, and the way this mythology influences everything from politics to personal relationships demonstrates sophisticated thinking about how religion shapes society.
The city of Cienpuentes—”City of a Hundred Bridges”—comes alive through Medina’s descriptions, feeling like a place with genuine history and culture. The political intrigue of the court, with its child king and competing factions, provides an effective backdrop for the personal stories.
However, some elements feel underdeveloped. The magic system, while intriguing, lacks the clear rules that would help readers understand its limitations and costs. The relationship between the various kingdoms and how they interact politically could use more clarity. These issues don’t derail the story, but they do make the world feel less solid than it could be.
Prose Style: Evocative but Uneven
Medina writes with a lyrical quality that serves the novel’s gothic atmosphere well. Her descriptions of death and decay are particularly effective, managing to be beautiful and disturbing simultaneously. The author has a talent for capturing emotional states through physical description, making Azul’s grief feel visceral and real.
The pacing, however, proves problematic at times. The middle section, particularly during Azul’s time in Valanje, drags as political maneuvering takes precedence over character development and forward momentum. Some scenes feel repetitive, with characters rehashing the same conflicts without meaningful progression.
The multiple POV structure generally works well, though some perspectives feel more essential than others. Azul’s chapters consistently engage, while some of the political figures’ sections feel like necessary exposition rather than compelling narrative.
Themes That Cut Deep
Where Mistress of Bones truly succeeds is in its exploration of consent, grief, and the ethics of love. Azul’s journey forces readers to confront uncomfortable questions: When does love become possession? Is it acceptable to make decisions for others, even out of love, when they cannot consent? The novel doesn’t provide easy answers, which makes it more powerful.
The examination of how society treats those with dangerous gifts feels particularly relevant. Azul’s necromancy marks her as both valuable and threatening, leading to a complex relationship with authority that resonates beyond the fantasy setting. The way different characters use similar powers for vastly different purposes creates a moral spectrum that adds depth to the world.
Technical Strengths and Weaknesses
Strengths:
- Complex, morally ambiguous protagonist
- Innovative mythology and world concept
- Effective exploration of grief and obsession
- Strong atmospheric writing
- Compelling examination of ethics and consent
Weaknesses:
- Inconsistent pacing, particularly in the middle section
- Some underdeveloped secondary characters
- Magic system could use clearer definition
- Political intrigue sometimes overwhelms character development
- Romantic elements feel underdeveloped
Final Verdict: A Promising but Flawed Debut
Mistress of Bones is the work of a writer with genuine talent and important things to say about love, loss, and the price of power. While it stumbles occasionally under the weight of its own ambitions, the novel succeeds in creating a memorable protagonist and a world that feels both magical and grounded in emotional truth.
Medina’s debut shows particular strength in character psychology and thematic depth. The questions she raises about resurrection, consent, and the nature of love will linger with readers long after the final page. The novel’s examination of grief—how it shapes us, drives us, and sometimes consumes us—feels authentic and powerful.
For readers who enjoyed the moral complexity of The Bone Shard Daughter by Andrea Stewart or the dark romanticism of The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow, Mistress of Bones offers a similarly complex emotional journey. Fans of gothic fantasy with psychological depth will find much to appreciate, even if they must forgive some structural weaknesses.
Similar Books You Might Enjoy
If Mistress of Bones resonated with you, consider these comparable reads:
- The Bone Shard Daughter by Andrea Stewart – Another novel exploring the ethics of using death magic in a complex political landscape
- The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling – Gothic horror with themes of love, loss, and resurrection
- Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia – Atmospheric horror exploring family, power, and bodily autonomy
- The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow – Portal fantasy with complex family relationships and moral ambiguity
- Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo – Multi-POV fantasy with complex characters and moral gray areas
- The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon – Epic fantasy with strong world-building and complex political intrigue
About the Author
Mistress of Bones marks Maria Z. Medina’s debut novel. Born and raised in Spain, Medina brings a fresh perspective to fantasy literature, influenced by her background and love for speculative fiction. Her short fiction has appeared in various fantasy and science-fiction publications, demonstrating her range as a writer beyond this debut novel.
Mistress of Bones represents a solid entry into the fantasy genre that, despite its flaws, announces Medina as a writer to watch. The novel’s exploration of complex themes and its willingness to grapple with difficult questions about love, power, and consent mark it as a thoughtful contribution to contemporary fantasy literature.
While not without its weaknesses, this debut shows enough promise to make readers eager for the second book in this duology, hoping that Medina will build on her strengths while addressing the pacing and development issues that occasionally slow this otherwise compelling tale.