Necessary Evil Press

Price $45.00

Reviewed by Cherie Priest

Horror-field honors are nothing new to Kealan Patrick Burke, the many-Stoker-nominated and occasional-Stoker-winning author of such tales as Currency of Souls and The Turtle Boy; and his new novel Master of the Moors (Necessary Evil Press) is likely to land him another round or two of laurels. One part traditional monster fable and one part revenge fantasy, Master is somehow nuanced even when it’s aggressive–and straightforward, even when the narrative is thick with layers.

The novel opens with a squishy bang, with a desperate and likely doomed search for a missing woman on a foggy, craggy moor. In the grand tradition of foggy, craggy moors everywhere, this moor is menaced by a sinister creature with a tendency to shred horses and gnaw the bones of lost travelers. The missing woman’s husband is at first a figure of sympathy, then outright suspicion, and subsequent fear and loathing; but forces are rallied and the unfortunate lady is sought. What happens next changes the town and the lives of its residents for years, though the details are fuzzy at first and difficult to parse. Several men die. One man goes mad and/or catatonic, leaving his estate to wither in the hands of its aging caretakers and his children–a teenaged girl and her blind brother.

Things are bleak from moor to manor, and everywhere in between. The entire village behaves as if it’s resigned to despair–to the point that even the most basic, human rejections of the horror are dispensed with. No one seems to have the energy to resist until the fog rolls in, bringing with it a hideously disfigured man with an axe to grind. The Master of the Moors is back, baby, and he’s not going to settle for less than pure vengeful havoc.

I’ve read a handful of Burke’s stories and novels here and there over the last few years, and so far this is hands-down my favorite. Skillful and tense throughout, Burke does a truly smashing job of building a village that’s united in its cowed sense of melancholy–a place that’s waiting to be rescued by someone, anyone, because it can no longer help itself. It’s a neat study in group dynamics, and the way that a group can be salvaged or savaged by a few free radicals.

Strange as it may sound, there’s real relief and excitement when the Master of the Moors finally arrives, because even though the townspeople–and the reader–suspect that this gentleman is going to burn down the world to have his revenge, it honestly seems preferable to the status quo.

And when the master’s plan is unleashed, even the doomed seem strangely ready to participate. They may be instrumental in their own destruction or their own salvation, and it’s going to be a crap shoot, but anything is worth a shot to get out from under the grinding boot of their own persistent fear.

Though some of the dialect might prove tiresome to American readers, and sometimes the politicking of a small town’s cast of thousands gets confusing, the themes are big and the peril is honestly engaging. By and large this is a wonderful specimen of the genre–well worth reading under the covers with a flashlight.