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The fog rolls in and the adventures begin: a house that flies! The ship departs for cold Nantle and the investigation begins: who is the mysterious heir and what is that ghostly apparition; can these characters look beyond their love of money, memory, and the fine figure of a woman to solve these mysteries? The chains are unlocked, the trunk is unlatched, the box is opened, the mirror taken out, and so the terror and the horror begins: an angry god is calling, insisting on a return.

Perfectly accomplished ironic prose, done in a fussy, plummy Dickensian style. Digressive storytelling, taking time with its characters, giving them all their moments, many of those moments sad but even more that are comic. An intricate narrative: three strands coming together and coming apart, plots joining and unjoining, characters meeting and departing. A sinister atmosphere and a very strange world. Prehistoric beasties and monstrous agents of Poseidon. Shades of Sweeney Todd and M.R. James and Bleak House. And at last, all the questions finally answered. A satisfying ending: some fun and some sadness, some tragedy and some schadenfreude, a feeling of lives and adventures continuing beyond the page. Even death is not the end.

This is the best novel yet in the Western Lights series. Each book is a standalone. It should be read immediately, but one should take their time reading it.