Review: Fog & Fireflies by T.H. Lehnen

Children with the hearts of seasoned warriors must save their world from being swallowed by sinister magic in Fog & Fireflies by T.H. Lehnen, a mesmerizing and thought-provoking fantasy.

In this remarkably imagined fantasy world, isolated villages drift like lost ships in a fiendish fog, which forever threatens to invade these islands of humanity, but is chased off by noise, children, and the light of fireflies. The sentient, phantom-filled fog is deadly once you reach a certain age, which leaves the duty of protecting the towns to the youngest denizens of the realm. To survive, one must learn to trust the sound of bells more than the comfort of your mother’s voice.

Ogma is one of the eldest children in the Windmill Town, and has spent enough seasons on the walls to know the deadly dangers that lurk in the shadows, but when an injured boy is spotted outside the walls, trapped beneath a strange burrowing beast, she flings herself into the night to save him. A warrior trilsk from the legion of the Blue Wizard, young Dunkirk is more than he appears, but keeps his secrets and his innate powers well-guarded.

When a break in the fog opens the windmill town to a trading caravan, a midnight raid to steal the town’s children erupts, and Ogma finds herself lost in the fog. With the help of some unexpected allies, including contradictory gnomes, noble caravaners, and the magical Old Father of the forest, Ogma must rescue her young comrades and find a way back home. Far more importantly, however, she may have discovered a way to rid the world of its murderous veil of fog, but she won’t be able to do it alone.

In a world where vulnerability is flipped, leaving adults at risk and children to defend them, there is endless space for thematic exploration about responsibility and maturity, and Lehnen builds an intricate premise on this original narrative conceit. The revelation of children as the best arbiters of justice, equality, and morality should come as no surprise to adult readers, and yet, the trauma and struggles of their grown-up responsibilities often put their innocence to the test. Language barriers and the need for communication in unusual forms – from shadow puppets to the unique chords of an aural signature – add even more depth to the narrative pattern, imbuing this dark fairy tale with sage lessons about human connection that transcend the bounds of the story.

The author does rely a bit too much on internal monologuing early on, particularly self-referential questions that attempt to progress a scene or share a character’s thought processes, which can feel jarring with the already omniscient narration. There are also scattered occasions of missing prepositions or misused words, but the majority of the prose is neatly edited and purposeful, with very few errant lines or superfluous descriptions.

Overall, this novel overflows with creativity and offers some of the most unique world-building you’ll find in a genre that can feel like everything has already been done. Lehnen is a masterful storyteller, and his realm of fear and fireflies practically glitters on the page.