A group of six quirky but brave kids confront the path of a immense and dreadful paranormal evil that has infiltrated our realm from the outer limits of darkness. They are compelled to devote their lives fighting it, enduring terror upon terror in the process.
This is the plot, broadly speaking, of the master of horror’s novel It (his best; no arguments). It similarly frames of the celebrated author’s heir Joseph Hillstrom King’s recent chilling tome, in which a close-knit group summon the age-old, infinitely malicious serpent the Dragon King from the Long Dark to help them defeat some baddies. Unsurprisingly, their otherworldly invocation backfires.
Joe Hill launched his profession striving diligently to remain separate from his renowned parent, adopting the nom de plume he continues to employ and steering clear of encounters with his agent (he possesses a strong similarity to his dad). But in this latest novel, he fully acknowledges it. Certain passages that deliberately echo some of his father’s iconic (“The man in black fled across the desert …”); a scene that brings to mind a recurring theme in King’s works (a game of puzzles). In this epic story, Joe Hill takes pleasure in his heritage, and readers share in the joy.
Returning to the group: five of them are scholars at the fictional the esteemed institution in Maine. First is Arthur, academic and intelligent, deciphering historical enigmas in his spare time; another key figure, affluent, astute, and prone to trampling obstacles in his path; twins Donna and Donovan; the stunning the lovely Allie. Additionally, Gwen appears, who doesn’t study with them, but emerges as crucial of their band as they dabble, half believing, half not, in supernatural practices.
Arthur is, due to circumstances beyond his control, forced into stealing rare books from his treasured institution’s archives by a bunch of local criminals. This wounds his academic spirit, especially when he’s made to take the institution’s prized and disturbing publication: the logbook of adept Enoch Crane (condemned “for dealing with infernal entities in 1703”; the book’s jacket is made from his skin). The intrepid group examine the log, realize they are able to call forth what Crane describes as a armored demon” to assist Arthur with his coercion issue – and devote the remaining story reaping the consequences. King Sorrow will certainly eliminate those troublesome local drug dealers, but they must select a new sacrifice every twelve months or succumb to the dragon’s wrath. As our protagonist states: “You sow dragon’s teeth, all you get is additional horrors.”
Moving through four decades, the author shifts with seamless grace through various literary forms: as the friends endeavor to address the predicament they find themselves in by, in different ways, picking people who are obviously evil to sacrifice, or searching for methods to kill the dragon themselves, we transition from page-turner to grim fantasy, black-ops torture to affectionate subplot to terror. One particularly memorable shift was to a heroic journey, within the subterranean depths below Cornwall, a part tinged by the Lord of the Rings author that was gloriously terrifying.
We encounter trolls – bridge-dwelling ones and online ones, genuinely frightening and expertly realized. We see enchanted blades and betrayals, breath-taking moments of courage and instances of appalling malevolence, both human and extraterrestrial. It’s a tour de force: a chilling book that is above all a paean to the human inventiveness, and to love and friendship. “We required a narrative to trust and {now we’ve got one|presently we possess it|currently we hold it,” says this character as the friends sit around the table, making preparations to call forth their beast into being with the strength of their collective will.
In the author’s own words in his epigraph: “This is dragon territory”. Do not overlook this.