Review of Starless by Jacqueline Carey

I wasn’t expecting this! Jacqueline Carey is an author whose work I’ve usually enjoyed yet seldom found to be truly incredible. She writes with voice and creativity, embodying wonderful characters and stories here and in secondary worlds. Starless is a standout from her: standalone, secondary-world fantasy that explores gender, friendship, disability, and romance in very expansive ways.

Khai and Zariya were born on the same day. Zariya is a princess; Khai her sworn protector. He has spent his entire life being trained by the Brotherhood of Pahrkun to protect her—but when he finally meets her, she isn’t what he expected. Together, the two of them discover they have a significant—and surprising—role to play in a prophecy to save the entire world from Miasmus, a vengeful fallen god whose wakening from slumber would doom everyone. Meanwhile, Khai has to explore his gender identity and expression and how his complex feelings for Zariya may conflict with his duty to keep her safe, and Zariya must navigate how her disability factors into her role in the prophecy.

I went into this story knowing very little and so was surprised by a transmasculine protagonist from a cis author. It’s challenging to apply twenty-first-century terms to a secondary-world fantasy story, but I would call Khai trans and genderfluid. Carey explores that second part in a very sympathetic way, recognizing that someone comes to an understanding of one’s gender many times, over many different experiences, and one’s identity can shift throughout one’s life. While Khai often evinces confidence in his masculine identity—for example through asserting his pronouns—he’s also clearly intrigued by, if also ambivalent about, his forays into femme presentation. I like how Carey weaves this throughout the story, alongside other complexities of human gender and sexuality, in a way that feels weighty without stealing the show. That is to say, Khai’s gender is important to the story but is not the story.

I’m not in as good a position to comment on Carey’s portrayal of disability through Zariya. However, given what I have learned from listening to disabled people, I think a few positives are: despite Zariya occasionally wishing for it—and others around her hoping for or expecting it—there is no magical “cure” for her disability. Her disability isn’t something for her to “overcome” or “fix”; it is a part of her, and she and Khai simply adapt. Obviously there’s a fair level of privilege involved, given that she is a princess, in the kinds of accommodations she can receive. Nevertheless, I enjoy that in this kind of fantasy setting we get to see a disabled female protagonist who still takes a very proactive role in the plot.

Indeed, one of my main criticisms of Starless is that it happens solely from Khai’s first-person point-of-view. I would have loved access to Zariya’s perspective!

The relationship between the two is obviously the cornerstone of this entire novel. It begins as a friendship between two soulmates: they are more than ordinary friends, yet they are not romantic partners. There’s attraction, almost intimately so, yet not quite physical. Although it does eventually evolve into something resembling a more conventional romance, I’m mollified by the fact that at no point during this process does either character suggest a platonic relationship is less preferable. It’s an important distinction for me, as an aromantic reader—the relationship Khai and Zariya have near the beginning feels a lot like the way I feel about one of my closest friends, and I appreciate that Carey evolves the relationship away from that without invalidating it.

Similarly, I love the way Carey throws obstacles into their relationship without falling back on very clichéd tropes. There’s one big moment where Zariya discovers Khai lied to her by omission—after promising each other they would always be truthful—and it’s so well done. She’s hurt; he’s remorseful, and they have to deal with it. It’s a good reminder that they are human and fallible characters; at the same time, Carey doesn’t use the standard miscommunications that often slow down a romance subplot.

Finally, Starless endears itself to me by being a standalone story. There’s room for sequels, yet the main plot reaches a satisfying conclusion. It’s not a quite a doorstopper novel; however, it’s long and detailed enough that I really enjoyed whiling away many a summer afternoon on my deck. If you enjoy long, detailed, well-realized fantasy novels, this is for you.