Scott Palmer’s A Memory of Song is a sweeping Norse-inspired fantasy that melds visceral action with tender character moments. This first installment in The Last Ballad series plunges the reader into a world unraveling—a place where the elements have stilled, magic stirs, and the dead linger. Following James, a haunted soul pursued by monsters, and Wulfee, a hardened warrior battling her own ghosts, the story weaves an intricate tapestry of loss, vengeance, and faint glimmers of hope amidst chaos. Palmer’s world is vast yet intimate, brimming with dark beauty and a sense of impending doom.

I was captivated by Palmer’s ability to create immersive, gut-punching scenes. The opening chapter, where James runs from the horrifying Hawka, grips you with its vivid urgency. Every slosh through icy mud, every scream in the silent woods felt raw and immediate. Yet, it wasn’t just the thrilling chase that hooked me—it was the aching regret coursing through James’s inner dialogue. “You should have died with her by your side,” lingers, a refrain that sets the tone for the entire novel. Palmer’s prose is sharp and poetic, but never overwrought, making the intensity feel grounded. The characters are unforgettable, though not always likable—and I mean that as praise. Wulfee’s unyielding thirst for vengeance left me in awe and frustration. Her interactions with Gen, a towering yet naive figure, add moments of bittersweet levity, as when she deflects his eagerness for her stories with gruff affection. The relationship dynamics are messy and human, with emotions bubbling just below the surface. I couldn’t stop thinking about Maggie, a character steeped in tragedy, whose sickness mirrors the dying world. Her brief, intimate moments with James were heartbreakingly fragile, offering a respite from the relentless darkness. Palmer’s worldbuilding is as rich as it is grim. The elements—literally lifeless in this setting—infuse the narrative with an eerie stillness. The nytewood trees, with their glowing blossoms, and the cursed Fever Stones evoke a sense of old magic that feels both majestic and terrifying. Yet, the novel doesn’t drown in lore. Every detail, from the humming dead to the strange customs of the Feldarra, feels purposeful and alive, enhancing the emotional stakes.

Fans of grimdark fantasy will revel in the moral complexity and stark beauty of A Memory of Song. If you enjoy John Gwynne’s Bloodsworn Saga or Joe Abercrombie’s First Law series, Palmer’s work will scratch that itch. It’s for readers who aren’t afraid to sit with pain and grapple with hope. I’ll be eagerly awaiting the next installment—despite knowing it’ll likely break my heart all over again.

Pages: 489 | ASIN : B0D5BWH1NS