Awkward revelations about me abound lately. For instance, take last month, when I had the depressing epiphany that I am a prude. This month, Knight’s Curse by Karen Duvall has brought me another humbling moment in self-awareness: I am destined to become my neighborhood’s dour, old crazy cat lady. That’s right, at the rate I am going, my only friends will be my fifty-eight cats all named Emperor Augustus. But that’s a concern for another time; let us continue with the review.

Duvall’s urban fantasy novel Knight’s Curse tells the story of a young woman named Chalice (I saw that name and thought, “Dear God, please no more tinfoil hat stories about the Templars.”) who possesses some seriously awesome powers. Which would make sense because her deceased mother was a mortal and her father is a fallen angel. Not only is Chalice the progeny of an immortal, she is also the heir -- through her mother -- to the Hatchet Knights. However, at thirteen, she was kidnapped by a nefarious organization called the Vyantara and has been tortured and forcibly trained to hunt powerful magic items. Her latest treasure hunt turns into her most dangerous: the hunt for the parceled-out relics of St. Geraldine. But things get complicated pretty quickly as Chalice begins finding out truths about her mother, her own abilities and the very existence and nature of the Order of the Hatchet. Oh, and she’s cursed by a bond to a foul-tempered gargoyle.

It actually sounds like a pretty interesting premise to me. And yet… well, I just don’t know. Knight’s Curse is a book with a lot happening in it, and I mean a lot. In fact, at times it became hard for me to keep straight everything that is happening. Information gets tossed about at random -- oftentimes when it seems that the author thought, “Oh! Here’s a convenient place for me to drop this really important fact.” Truthfully, with all that is going on, I never really did figure out what the point of the Vyantara is, other than to be the Big Underground Organization of Evilness. OK, they collect powerful magic. Why? They want the members of the Order of the Hatchet. Why? Are the Vyantara striving for some particular goal, or are they the magical world’s equivalent of Beanie Baby collectors? I have no idea. But they are Evil. And perhaps my first grade teacher was right and I really am stupid, but I am still confused about what St. Geraldine will do for the Vyantara if her limbs are all reunited.

I am also confused by the writing style; I felt as though I were reading a book written for independent readers. Each sentence is very precise, but it is also very simple. Descriptions lack the sense of depth that I am accustomed to with fantasy literature. I just got the feeling that Duvall is not at ease enough in her own world to really paint it with the imagery and the wordplay that it deserves. But that might be me. I know many people find it refreshing to have a story told without the author waxing poetic at every turn. This simplicity also overflows to the development of the characters, however. The goodies are good and the baddies are bad. Straight up. Sure, there are a few moments where Duvall wants the reader to question whether Chalice’s co-conspirator/potential boyfriend, Aydin, is truly interested in Chalice’s well-being. But like many of the events, the idea of Aydin betraying Chalice is tossed out there because formula dictates it should be, not because the reader is really meant to believe it. After all, Aydin is a hottie with a naughty body and, by the Most Revered Laws of Mary Sue-ism, cannot be anything but truly interested in Chalice.

And now we reach the point of revelation, that horrible moment where I realized I am the most boring person in the world and will only have a massive herd of ill-kept cats to ease the loneliness of my declining years. We come to the history nitpick section. Yeah, you knew this would happen. But then, this is a book whose premise rests upon historical events which actually occurred. I know scientifically-minded people who become livid at any mistreatment of scientific theories and principles in science fiction books, so why can I not take umbrage at the fantasy world’s utter disinterest in performing a little research? What is that, Emperor Augustus? I can take umbrage? Aww, who’s a good liddle kitty? Yes, you is a good kitty, Emperor Augustus.

Onward to nitpickery: The Order of the Hatchet was a group of women who were knighted for defending the city of Tortosa when the men decided it behooved the city to surrender. So the women donned armor, took up the fight and saved the city. In recognition of their bravery, the Count of Barcelona founded the order at the end of the Second Crusade in 1149.

However, Duvall keeps referencing the founding of the order in the eleventh century. Actually, the First Crusade lasted from 1096 until 1099 and the Second Crusade lasted from 1145 until 1149. I know, I know, I should just relax, but there are volumes upon volumes written about the Crusades. Why does it seem that many authors just do not care about getting history right? Then again, I suppose if you’re taking liberties with everything from knightly orders to the mechanics of holy relics, what are a few fudged dates? I mean, it isn’t as though Chalice supposedly has a Masters degree in Art History, or anything. Oh, wait… she does. Which is, I think, much of what bothers me. How do I believe a character who obviously does not have a real world understanding of the things she knows? This is comparable to writing about a chemist who does not know neon is a noble gas.

Honestly, Knight’s Curse is a book with a lot of promise, it just gets too caught up in itself to take the reader on a fulfilling journey. I rather liked that Chalice is not only inept at lying, but that this failing actually has consequences and is not just a cute “oops, need to give my protagonist something to keep her from being too freakin’ awesome” trait. But after Chalice spends over half the book lamenting her inability to lie, magic arrives on the overused wings of Deus Ex Machina and fixes the problem in about one page. Seriously. And I’m not sure Duvall understands the concept of fallen angels. Or maybe I don’t understand the concept. Or something. Even the magic, while interesting and full of color, seemed composed of rules cobbled together as it suited the plot. Although I did appreciate that the gargoyle curse is consistent throughout the story. Then again, I think it’s supposed to be the crux of the book, so it should be consistent. In the end, I think Duvall tried piecing too many ideas together which instead of enlivening the book, only served to convolute the plot.

At least she left out the Templars. I have that as consolation as I go prepare my fifty-eight bowls of kitty chow. After all, we all know it bodes ill to keep the Emperors waiting.

   -- Katie Hager