Nettle & Bone

By T. Kingfisher

Winner of the Hugo Award for Best Novel
An Instant USA Today & Indie Bestseller
An Oprah Daily Top 25 Fantasy Book of 2022
A Vulture Best Fantasy Novel of 2022
An NPR Best Sci Fi, Fantasy, & Speculative Fiction Book of 2022
A Goodreads Best Fantasy Choice Award Nominee

From Hugo, Nebula, and Locus award-winning author T. Kingfisher comes an original and subversive fantasy adventure.

*The very special hardcover edition features a gold foil stamp on the casing and custom endpapers illustrated by the author.*

This isn't the kind of fairy tale where the princess marries a prince.

It's the one where she kills him.

Marra — a shy, convent-raised, third-born daughter — is relieved not to be married off for the sake of her parents’ throne. Her older sister wasn’t so fortunate though, and her royal husband is as abusive as he is powerful. From the safety of the convent, Marra wonders who will come to her sister’s rescue and put a stop to this. But after years of watching their families and kingdoms pretend all is well, Marra realizes if any hero is coming, it will have to be Marra herself.

If Marra can complete three impossible tasks, a witch will grant her the tools she needs. But, as is the way in stories of princes and the impossible, these tasks are only the beginning of Marra’s strange and enchanting journey to save her sister and topple a throne.

“Wholly entertaining."—Buzzfeed

“A modern classic.”—Seanan McGuire, New York Times bestselling author of Every Heart A Doorway

“Pure delight. T. Kingfisher uses the bones of fairy tale to create something entirely her own.”—Emily Tesh, award-winning author of Silver in the Wood

Also by T. Kingfisher
Thornhedge
A Sorceress Comes to Call
What Moves the Dead
What Feasts at Night
A House with Good Bones

At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Apr 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781250244031

T. Kingfisher

T. Kingfisher, also known as Ursula Vernon, is the author and illustrator of many projects, including the webcomic “Digger,” which won the Hugo Award for Best Graphic Story and the Mythopoeic Award. Her novelette “The Tomato Thief” won the Hugo Award for Best Novelette, and her short story “Jackalope Wives” won the Nebula Award for Best Story. She is also the author of the bestselling Dragonbreath, and the Hamster Princess series of books for children. Find her online at RedWombatStudio.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The trees were full of crows and the woods were full of madmen. The pit was full of bones and her hands were full of wires.

Her fingers bled where the wire ends cut her. The earliest cuts were no longer bleeding, but the edges had gone red and hot, with angry streaks running backward over her skin. The tips of her fingers were becoming puffy and less nimble.

Marra was aware that this was not a good thing, but the odds of living long enough for infection to kill her were so small that she could not feel much concern.

She picked up a bone, a long, thin one, from the legs, and wrapped the ends with wire. It fit alongside another long bone—not from the same animal, but close enough—and she bound them together and fit them into the framework she was creating.

The charnel pit was full, but she did not need to dig too deeply. She could track the progression of starvation backward through the layers. They had eaten deer and they had eaten cattle. When the cattle ran out and the deer were gone, they ate the horses, and when the horses were gone, they ate the dogs.

When the dogs were gone, they ate each other.

It was the dogs she wanted. Perhaps she might have built a man out of bones, but she had no great love of men any longer.

Dogs, though … dogs were always true.

He made harp pegs of her fingers fair, Marra sang softly, tunelessly, under her breath. And strung the bones with her golden hair…

The crows called to each other from the trees in solemn voices. She wondered about the harper in the song, and what he had thought when he was building the harp of a dead woman’s bones. He was probably the only person in the world who would understand what she was doing.

Assuming he even existed in the first place. And if he did, what kind of life do you lead where you find yourself building a harp out of corpses?

For that matter, what kind of life do you lead where you find yourself building a dog out of bones?

Many of the bones had been cracked open for marrow. If she could find two that went together, she could bind them back to wholeness, but often the breaks were jagged. She had to splint them together with the wires, leaving bloody fingerprints across the surface of the bones.

That was fine. That was part of the magic.

Besides, when the great hero Mordecai slew the poisoned worm, did he complain about his fingers hurting? No, of course not.

At least, not where anyone could hear him and write it down.

The only song the harp would play, she crooned, was O! The dreadful wind and rain…

She was fully aware of how wild she sounded. Part of her recoiled from it. Another, larger part said that she was kneeling on the edge of a pit full of bones, in a land so bloated with horrors that her feet sank into the earth as if she were walking on the surface of a gigantic blister. A little wildness would not be out of place at all.

The skulls were easy. She had found a fine, broad one, with powerful jaws and soulful eye sockets. She could have had dozens, but she could only use one.

It hurt her in a way that she had not expected. The joy of finding one was crushed easily under the sorrow of so many that would go unused.

I could sit here for the rest of my life, with my hands full of wire, building dogs out of bone. And then the crows will eat me and I will fall into the pit and we shall all be bones together …

A sob caught in her throat and she had to stop. She fumbled in her pack for her waterskin and took a sip.

The bone dog was half-completed. She had the skull and the beautiful sweep of vertebrae, two legs and the long, elegant ribs. There would be at least a dozen dogs in this one, truly—but the skull was the important thing.

Marra caressed the hollow orbits, delicately winged in wire. Everyone said that the heart was where the soul lived, but she no longer believed it. She was building from the skull downward. She had discarded several bones already because they did not seem to fit with the skull. The long, impossibly fine ankles of gazehounds would not serve to carry her skull forward. She needed something stronger and more solid, boarhounds or elkhounds, something with weight.

There was a jump rope rhyme about a bone dog, wasn’t there? Where had she heard it? Not in the palace, certainly. Princesses did not jump rope. It must have been later, in the village near the convent. How did it go? Bone dog, stone dog …

The crows called a warning.

She looked up. The crows yammered in the trees to her left. Something was coming, blundering through the trees.

She pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head and slid partway down into the pit, cradling the dog skeleton to her chest.

Her cloak was made of owlcloth tatters and spun-nettle cord. The magic was imperfect, but it was the best she had been able to make in the time that she had been given.

From dawn to dusk and back again, with an awl made of thorns—yes, I’d like to see anyone do better. Even the dust-wife said that I had done well, and she hands out praise like water in a dry land.

The cloak of tatters left long gaps bare, but she had found that this did not matter. It broke up her outline so that people looked through her. If they found some of the bands of light and shadow lay a little strangely, they never stayed long enough to puzzle out why.

People were remarkably willing to dismiss their own sight. Marra thought perhaps that the world was so strange and vision so flawed that you soon realized that anything and everything could be a trick of the light.

The man came out of the trees. She heard him muttering but could not make out the words. She only knew it was a man because his voice was so deep, and even that was guesswork.

Most of the people of the blistered land were harmless. They had eaten the wrong flesh and been punished for it. Some saw things that were not there. Some of them could not walk and their fellows helped them. Two had shared a fire with her, some nights ago, although she was careful not to eat their food, even though they offered.

It was a cruel spirit that would punish starving people for what they had been forced to eat, but the spirits had never pretended to be kind.

Her companions at the fire had warned her, though. Be careful, said one. Be quick, quick, quiet. There’s a few to watch for. They were bad before and they’re worse now.

Bad, said the second one. His breathing was very labored and he had to stop between each word. She could tell that it frustrated him, trying to speak between the pauses. Not … right. All … of us … now—he shook his head ruefully—"but them … angry."

It doesn’t do any good to be angry, said the first one. But they won’t listen. Ate too much. Got to like the taste. She cracked a laugh, too high, looking down at her hands. We stopped as soon as there was something else, but they kept eating it.

The second one shook his head. No, he said. More … than that. Always … angry. Born.

Some are born that way, Marra agreed, nodding to him. She knew too well.

Some of those people are men. Some of those men are princes. Yes, I know. It is a different kind of anger. Something darker and more deliberate.

He looked relieved that she had understood. Yes. Angrier … now. Much.

All three of them sat in silence around the fire. She stretched her hands toward the flames and exhaled slowly.

Mostly they kill us, said the first one abruptly. We can’t always run. Things get confused— She sketched a gesture in the air above her eyes that Marra could not begin to understand, although her companion nodded when he saw it. We’re easy to catch if it’s like that. But if they see you, they’ll try for you, too.

The fire crackled. This land was very damp, and she was grateful for the heat, and yet— Aren’t you worried that they’ll see the fire?

The woman shook her head. They hate it, she said. It’s the punishment. The more they eat, the more they fear it—they do not cook the flesh, you see… She rubbed her face, obviously distressed.

Safer, said the man. But … can’t burn … all the time.

They leaned against one another. She bent her head down against his shoulder and he reached his arm across his body to hold her close.

A few days ago, Marra would have wondered why they did not leave this terrible land. She no longer did. They might not be sane, as the outside world understood it, but they were not fools. If they felt that they were safer here than they were outside it, it was not her place to tell them otherwise.

If I had to explain to everyone I met what had happened to me, have them judge me for what I’d had to do—no, I might think a land with a few roving cannibals was a small price to pay, myself. At least here, everyone understands what’s happened, and they are as kind to each other as they can be.

As a girl, she would not have understood that, but Marra was not the girl that she had been. She was thirty years old, and all that was left of that girl now were the bones.

For a moment she had envied them, two people punished through no fault of their own, because they had each other.

Now, as she sat in the pit of bones, the skeleton cradled against her chest twitched.

Shhhh… whispered Marra into the skull’s openings. Shhhhh…

Bone dog, stone dog … black dog, white dog …

She heard the footsteps as he approached. Had he seen her?

If he had, then he, too, dismissed it as a trick of the light. The footfalls skirted the edge of the pit, and the sound of breathing faded away.

Probably harmless, she murmured to the skull. Even if he were not, she would be a difficult target.

The other, gentler folk in here were uniquely vulnerable. If you had learned not to trust your own senses, you might wait too long to run from an enemy.

Marra was no longer as sure of her own perceptions as she had once been, but the edges of her mind were only slightly frayed, not blasted open by furious spirits.

When the footsteps had been gone for many minutes and the crows had settled, she sat up again. Fog lined the edges of the wood, hanging in low swirls over the meadow. The crows cawed together like a disjointed heartbeat. Nothing else moved.

She bent back over the bone dog again, fingers moving on the wires, hoping to finish her task before darkness fell.

---

The bone dog came alive at dusk. It was not quite completed, but it was close. She was bent over the left front paw when the skull’s jaws yawned open and it stretched as if waking from a long slumber.

Hush, she told it. I’m nearly done—

It sat up. Its mouth opened and the ghost of a wet tongue touched her face like fog.

She scratched the skull where the base of the ears would be. Her nails made a soft scraping sound on the pale surface.

The bone dog wagged its tail, its pelvis, and most of its spine with delight.

Sit still, she told it, picking up the front paw. Sit, and let me finish.

It sat politely. The hollow eye sockets gazed up at her. Her heart contracted painfully.

The love of a bone dog, she thought, bending her head down over the paw again. All that I am worth these days.

Then again, few humans were truly worth the love of a living dog. Some gifts you could never deserve.

She had to wrap each tiny foot bone in a single twist of wire and bind it to the others, then wrap the entire paw several times, to keep it stable. It should not have held together, and yet it did.

The cloak had gone together the same way. Nettle cords and tattered cloth should have fallen apart, and yet it was far more solid than it looked.

The dog’s claws were ridiculously large without flesh to cloak them. She wrapped each one as if it were an amulet and joined them to the basket of thin wires.

Bone dog, stone dog, she whispered. She could see the children in her head, three little girls, chanting to each other. Bone dog, stone dog … black dog, white dog … live dog, dead dog … yellow dog, run!

At run, the little girl in the middle of the rope had jumped out and begun to run back and forth through the swinging rope, the only sound her feet and the slap of the rope in the dust. When she finally tripped up, the two girls on the ends had dropped the rope and they had all begun giggling together.

The bone dog rested his muzzle on her forearm. He had neither ears nor eyebrows, and yet she could practically feel the look he was giving her, tragic and hopeful as dogs often were.

There, she said, finally. Her knife was dulled from cutting wire and it took her several tries to hack the last bit apart. She tucked the sharp end underneath the joint where it would not catch on anything. There you are. I hope that’s enough.

The bone dog put its paw down and tested it. It stood for a moment, then turned and sprinted into the fog.

Marra’s fist clenched against her stomach. No! It ran—I should have tied it. I should have thought it might run—

The clatter of its paws faded into the whiteness.

I suppose it had another master somewhere, before it died. Perhaps it’s gone to find them.

Her hands ached. Her heart ached. Poor foolish dog. Its first death had not been enough to teach it that not all masters were worthy.

Marra had learned that too late herself.

She looked into the pit of bones. Her fingers throbbed—not in the horrible stinging way they had when she pieced together the nettle cloak, but deeper, in time to her heartbeat. There was redness working its way up her hands. One long line was already snaking through her wrist.

She could not bear the thought of sitting down and sculpting another dog.

She dropped her head into her aching hands. Three tasks the dust-wife had given her. Sew a cloak of owlcloth and nettles, build a dog of cursed bones, and catch moonlight in a jar of clay. She’d failed on the second one, before she’d even had a chance to start the third.

Three tasks, and then the dust-wife would give her the tools to kill a prince.

Typical, she said into her hands. Typical. Of course I’d manage the impossible thing, then not think that sometimes dogs run off. For all she knew, the bone dog had caught the wisp of a scent and now it would end up a hundred miles away, chasing bone rabbits or bone foxes or bone deer.

She laughed into her swollen hands, misery twisting around, as it so often did, into weary humor. Well. Isn’t that just the way?

This is what I get for expecting bones to be loyal, just because I brought them back and wired them up. What does a dog know about resurrection?

I should have brought it a bone, she said, dropping her hands, and the crows in the trees took up the sound of her laughter.

Well.

If the dust-wife had failed her—or if she had failed the dust-wife—then she would make her own way. She’d had a godmother at her christening who had given her a single gift and smoothed her path not at all. Perhaps there was a debt owing there.

She turned and began to make her way, step by dragging step, out of the blistered land.

Chapter 2

Marra had grown up sullen, the sort of child who is always standing in exactly the wrong place so that adults tell her to get out of the way. She was not slow, exactly, but she seemed younger than her age, and very little interested her for long.

She had two sisters, and she was the youngest. She loved her oldest sister, Damia, very much. Damia was six years older, which seemed a lifetime. She was tall and poised and very pale, a child of Marra’s father’s first wife.

The middle sister, Kania, was only two years older than Marra. They shared a mother but no goodwill.

I hate you, said twelve-year-old Kania, through gritted teeth, to ten-year-old Marra. "I hate you and I hope you die."

Marra carried the knowledge that her sister hated her snugged up under her ribs. It did not touch her heart, but it seemed to fill her lungs, and sometimes when she tried to take a deep breath, it caught on her sister’s words and left her breathless.

She did not talk to anyone about it. There was no point. Her father was not unkind, but he was mostly absent, even if he was physically present. At best he would have patted her awkwardly on the back and sent her to the kitchen for a treat, as if she were very small. And her mother, the queen, would have said, Don’t be absurd, your sister loves you, in a distracted voice, opening the latest dispatch from her spymasters, making the political decisions to keep the kingdom from falling into ruin.

When Prince Vorling was betrothed to Damia, the household rejoiced. Marra’s family ruled a small city-state with the misfortune to house the only deep harbor along the coast of two rival kingdoms. Both those kingdoms wanted that harbor, and either one could have rolled over the city and taken it with hardly a moment’s effort. Marra’s mother had kept them balancing between two knives for a long time.

But now Prince Vorling, of the Northern Kingdom, would marry Damia and thus cement an alliance between them. If the Southern Kingdom tried to take the harbor, the Northern Kingdom would defend it. Damia’s first son would sit someday upon the Northern throne, and her second (if she had one) would rule the harbor city.

It was, perhaps, a trifle odd to expend a firstborn son on so small a thing as the Harbor Kingdom, but it was said that the royal family of the North had grown thin blooded and had married too many close cousins over the centuries. They were protected by powerful magic, but magic could not fix blood, so the kings looked to marry outside their borders. By sealing the Harbor Kingdom and its shipping port to them by marriage, the Northern Kingdom enriched their blood and their coffers at a single stroke.

At last, said Marra’s father. At last, we will be safe. Her mother nodded. Now the Southern Kingdom would not dare to attack them, and the Northern Kingdom would no longer need to.

It was only Marra who cried. But I don’t want you to go! she sobbed, clinging to Damia’s waist. "You’re going away!"

Damia laughed. It will be all right, she said. I’ll come visit. Or you’ll come visit me.

"But you won’t be here!"

Stop it, said her mother, thin lipped, pulling her daughter away from her stepdaughter. Don’t be selfish, Marra.

Marra’s just bitter because she doesn’t have a prince, said Kania, taunting.

The unfairness of this made Marra cry harder. She was twelve and she knew that she was too old to throw a tantrum, but she felt one coming on anyway.

The nurse was fetched to take her away, and that meant that Marra did not see Damia leave, with all the pomp and ceremony of a bride going to her bridegroom’s kingdom.

She was watching five months later, though, when Damia’s body was brought home in state.

There was a black wagon pulled by six black horses, flanked by riders dressed in mourning bands. There were three black carriages before and after the wagon, the curtains drawn. Their horses, too, were black. They had black bridles and black saddles and black barding.

It struck Marra, watching, as an extravagance of grief. Someone wanted the world to know how sad he could afford to be.

A fall, said the whispers. The prince is heartbroken. They say she was carrying his child.

Marra shook her head. It was not possible. The world could not be so poorly ordered that Damia could be allowed to die.

She did not cry, because she did not believe that Damia was dead.

It seemed very strange that everyone else did believe it. They ran back and forth, sometimes weeping, more often planning the details of the funeral.

Marra crept into the chapel that night. If she could prove that the body lying there was not Damia, then all the foolishness of funerals could be set aside.

The shrouded figure smelled strongly of camphor. There was a death mask atop the shroud. It was Damia, her face composed.

Marra stared at the figure for a little while and thought that it had been several days since they had heard of Damia’s death. They had been cool days, but not cold. The camphor could not quite chase out the scent of decay.

If she tried to push aside the death mask and tear off the shroud, she would see a rotting corpse. Who knew what it would look like?

I was thinking like a little child, she thought angrily. Thinking that I would be able to tell if it was Damia. It could be anyone under there at all.

Even her.

She crept away and left the shroud undisturbed.

The funeral was lavish but rushed. The riders that the prince had sent were better dressed than Marra’s mother and father. Marra resented her parents for being shabby and resented the prince for making it obvious.

They lowered the body into the ground. It could have been Damia. It could have been anyone. Marra’s father wept, and Marra’s mother stared straight ahead, her knuckles white where they gripped her cane.

Days followed, one after another, chasing each other into weeks. Marra came to believe that it had been Damia, mostly because everyone else seemed to believe it, but by then it seemed too late to mourn, and anyway, how could such a thing be possible?

She tried, once, to say something to Kania.

Of course she’s dead, said her sister shortly. She’s been dead for months.

Has she? asked Marra. I mean—she has. But … dead! Really? Does it make any sense to you?

Kania stared at her. Don’t be ridiculous, she said. It doesn’t have to make sense. People just die, that’s all.

I guess, said Marra. She sat down on the edge of the bed. I mean … everybody says she is.

They wouldn’t lie about it, said Kania. Marrying the prince meant that we were going to be safe. If Damia’s dead, then the prince will marry someone else and we’ll be in danger again.

Marra said nothing. She had not thought of that, either.

I must start to think like a grown-up. Kania is doing it better than I am.

The two years between them seemed suddenly vast, full of things that Marra knew but had never thought

Reviews for Nettle & Bone

[Joanna Disch · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Grossartige Geschichte mit tollen Figuren und gelungenen Einfälle. Sehr lesenswert.

[Helene Hennelly · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Delightful story, well written. The prose sparkled. The accolades are well earned.

[ragwaine · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I feel like this book has 3 distinct parts and each part had a completely different style. It started out dark, gritty and original with a female necromancer in a wasteland full of cannibals, seeking a way to murder a prince. Then suddenly everything was "normal" and it was a not-very-exciting medieval story about a princess (the necromancer from earlier), her sisters and an evil prince. Then about half way through it just got amazing and turned into something with such great characters that it reminded me of [book:The Princess Bride|21787]. After that it stayed wonderful, got dark & a bit creepy. There was only one thing I was disappointed in and that is a SPOILER. I'll leave some space and put it below.She was a teenager. He was 40. WTF?

[kalliegrace · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I love a quick stand-alone fantasy adventure. Delightful characters, believable motivations, and just enough magic to make it interesting. A bit of sleeping beauty, a lot of female rage and empowerment.

[wyvernfriend · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

For me this was a very satisfying story, there we moments where things shifted and it stumbled a little but overall this was a very, very good read with characters I cared about and wanted to succeed and it was interesting to see how they managed to get them to succeed.A woman (bless you T Kingfisher for older characters) who has been living as a nun (literally in a convent) decides that after her sister dying and her next sister being married off to the first sister's widower who appears to be cruel, that she is going to do SOMETHING to a) save her sister and b) not be the next victim of this cruel man. She endures hardship and pain and completes impossible tasks for a grumpy, world-weary bonewitch, meets immortal godmothers and one who could be evil but chooses not to, mostly. And along the way finds love with a man who is also dealing with his own demons.The stumbles were probably more me than the story but overall I wanted to hug almost everyone left at the end of the story.I have recommended it to several people

[herenya_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Marra, the youngest princess, was sent off to a covenant rather than married off to a prince. When she discovers what her sister has to endure at the hands of her husband, she decides to stop him. And that quest starts with tasks set by the dust-wife -- to weave a cloak of nettles and build a dog of bone.This is Vernon doing what she does best, with the juxtaposition of fairytale-ish events with down-to-earth personalities, and of dark horrors with kind characters, positive relationships and lively animal companions. She's very perceptive about the different experiences and concerns of women. I liked that Marra is a grown woman of thirty, not a mere teenager.“Fairy tales,” said the dust-wife heavily, “are very hard on bystanders. Particularly old women. I’d rather not dance myself to death in iron shoes, if it’s all the same to you.”

[glennis.leblanc · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A fairytale of the third princess that goes on a mission to save her sister from a marriage that is slowly killing her. Marra has been living in a convent since her middle sister married the prince from the northern kingdom after their older sister died five months into the marriage. At the funeral of her young niece, she finds out the prince is beating her sister and constantly keeping her pregnant in order to have an heir. But the magic that protects the northern kingdom comes with a price. Marra is now on a journey to do three impossible tasks so the dust wife with help her with her mission. I did laugh about how the third task is done. This story has a great fairy tale feel to it while also having a modern feel to it. And you have to love the idea of a chicken with a demon in it.


Digital review copy provided by the publisher through Edelweiss.

[alspachc · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The one about the fairy godmothers. Surprisingly good blend of the ridiculous (fairy godmother magic) and the serious (spousal abuse). Not all of the plot really hangs together, but it ends up being a fun story with enough meat to it to be satisfying, if not overly serious.

[roses7184_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Okay, let me be up front, I absolutely LOVED this book. Nettle & Bone was everything I wanted, and honestly needed, from a book right now. Fairy tales, especially dark ones, are my bread and butter. Stories where our heroes face impossible tasks, stories that somehow manage to mesh humor and tragedy, stories where it really feels like the characters grow and change. This book had all that and more, and I devoured every single second of it. When you’re feeling lost, sometimes it helps to join someone else on their journey instead.Now I feel it fair to warn perspective readers that the beginning might be a little confusing. Without preamble, we’re thrown into a space with a very ragged and exhausted Marra. She is performing a task that, quite honestly, feels fairly dark. I wasn’t sure what to make of her at first. However the reader is soon taken back in time, to see where Marra came from and how she ended up where we first found her. It’s honestly brilliant once you get past that initial point. Kingfisher found a way to show Marra’s growth in a breathtaking way. We watch a mere girl, who was afraid of everything, morph into this woman who is stronger than she ever thought she could be. The reader gets to travel 15 years of Marra’s life, and it’s a beautiful thing.It is true though that no heroine worth her salt travels alone, and Marra is no exception. In her journey she assembles a ragtag team of some of the most intriguing characters I have met in a long time! We meet the elderly but sassy Dustwife, who I honestly wouldn’t want to mess with. A fairy godmother who is much better at curses than blessings. A human man with a tragic backstory, who simply wants to forget where he came from. And, of course, the sweetest dog made of bones. This group was an absolute joy to travel with, and the banter between them was gold. I always appreciate when a book can incorporate good humor in dialogue without it feeling forced. Nettle & Bone manages that easily.As for the story, well here is the part where I can’t really share too much for fear of giving things away. I can assure you that Marra’s journey is one that will tug at your heartstrings, but also make you root so hard her at the same time. The love for her family, despite everything, radiates off of the page. There are beautiful nods to inner strength, loyalty, and simply attempting to understand the views of others. You’ll travel through a goblin market, meet a demon chicken and a cadre of unfriendly ghosts. If you’re like me, you’ll find yourself utterly enchanted and reading well past your bedtime. Yes, this book is that good.Easiest five stars I’ve given to a book in a long time. This was dark fairy tale, fantasy filled, perfection

[fionaanne · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I was torn between 3 and 4 stars but the author note at the end pushed it down*. At 240 pages, this is a rather thin fantasy, literally and figuratively. At times it was quite clever and interesting but the characters are flat and the plot is predictable so I never felt drawn into the story.

Thank you to Tor Publishing who kindly sent me a free ARC for review.

*Generally, I’m a fan of authors appending information for the edification of readers (and in the case of historical fiction, I consider it de rigeur) but sharing that the plot was dreamed up in the grocery store should be saved for interviews as it smacks of unnecessary vanity.

[hccpsk · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

There’s a reason T. Kingfisher (aka Ursula Vernon) has become so popular across so many genres — she tells a great story and Nettle & Bone is no exception. Kingfisher drops readers into the action and never lets up for 250 pages as we follow Marra on her quest to save her sister from the evil prince she married. Sound like a fairy tale? Yes, it is — with all the magic, intrigue, danger, and humor one could want.

[eas7788 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Very satisfying, if not groundbreaking. Greatly enjoyed the world she built and many details were very cool. I like the reworking of Sleeping Beauty. Plot kept me reading. Liked the awareness of quest narratives ("we'll talk and talk and never actually do anything"). I question starting with the building of bone dog, though -- seemed like a good hook? Tied to origin of the story? Elisa gave this to me via Alison :)

[tornadox-962417 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A fairy tale-like quest turns into a group adventure, with princesses, witches, faeries, warriors, and almost nuns. And the very cute Bonedog. Except in flashbacks, most of the main characters are 30 years old.

I haven't read T. Kingfisher's short story that partially inpsired this movel.

[spaceandsorcery · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

My first T. Kingfisher book, and certainly not my last, since with this one the author turned me into an instant fan - and with good reason, given that I found the combination of fairy tale elements, tongue-in-cheek humor and delightful characters quite irresistible.Marra is a princess in a small but pivotal realm set between two larger ones that are in a constant state of conflict: as the youngest of three daughters, she sees her eldest sister Damia married off, for political expediency, to the son of the northern realm king’s, only to learn that a few months into the marriage she died as the result of a fall from a horse. Her middle sister, Kania, is then chosen to marry that same prince Vorling, in the hope that an heir will seal the alliance between the two realms; then, to prevent the possibility that a child from Marra’s eventual marriage might upset the balance, she is sent to live in a convent.Rejoining her family for the christening of Kania’s daughter, Marra discovers - to her horror - that her sister is living in a nightmarish situation with a violent, abusive husband whose only goal is to produce a male heir, after which Kania’s life might become worthless: fearing for her sister’s life, and enraged by Vorling’s treatment of her, Marra decides to remove him from the equation, and to fulfill that goal she seeks the aid of a dust-wife (a sort of sorceress dealing with the dead) who sets her on three apparently impossible tasks before lending her help. On the course of her journey of vengeance, Marra ends up collecting a ragtag group of allies, consisting of the aforementioned dust-wife (and her demon-infested chicken), an apparently goofy godmother who is everything but, a former soldier enslaved to a merchant in the goblin market, and a dog made of bones - oh, and a chick endowed with a sort of magical GPS qualities ;-)Nettle and Bone mixes the classical elements of the quest with those of the found family, wrapping the result in an atmosphere that blends seamlessly darkness and humor, fear and whimsy, and that turns what might look like a “been there, done that” reading experience into something unique and compelling. Most of the credit goes of course to the characters, both as individuals and as members of the group: as they get to know each other in the course of the journey, they also learn to trust their respective gifts and put them to use toward the final goal, and in this way allow the reader to see what makes them tick and appreciate the skill with which the author trust them together.Marra might not have a high opinion of herself, probably because her family never considered her of great use (except as a second-hand replacement for her older sisters), but when we meet her she’s already more than halfway through the tasks set by the dust-wife, and we are immediately presented with her determination and resilience, qualities that endeared her to me from the very start. I like the author’s choice of introducing her in medias res and then backtracking to the past and the road that brought her to that point: it’s an excellent way to showcase her emotional and personal growth from the contented almost-nun, who found joy in the simple pleasures of embroidery and tapestry making, to the resolute avenger of her sisters. There is a sentence that encapsulates that transformation very well, and shows how even the more unassuming, self-effacing person can find the courage to act when necessity arises:[...] watched Vorling’s face and realized that she had never hated before now. This must be what this new feeling was. It took up so much space in her chest that she did not know if she could breathe around it.Marra might be burdened by self-doubt, fears - mainly fostered by her family’s treatment of her as something of an afterthought, or an inconvenience - and by an overwhelming guilt for not having understood sooner the danger represented by Vorling, but she compensates those traits by not giving up even in the face of apparently impossible obstacles, and in the end she becomes a surprisingly (for the times and background in which the story is set) feminist character, particularly when she understands how women are endangered by the role that this world has saddled them with:[…] the history of the world was written in women’s wombs and women’s blood a consideration that I found even more pertinent in these recent times….The dust-wife and Agnes the godmother earned my instant sympathy, and not only because they are older women (Crone Power!!! :-D ) but because the combination of dry humor from the first and apparent absent-mindedness from the second offered many occasions for amusement - and here I feel compelled to mention the demon-infested chicken that’s the dust-wife’s constant companion and whose pointed squawking calls often underline a given situation in a delightfully fun way. A special place must however be reserved for Bonedog, who literally stole my heart and was one of the best non-human additions to the story.I did not expect to enjoy this story so much: what on the surface might have seemed a fairy-tale retelling ended up being a compelling adventure with a lot of heart at its core, and it’s my hope that other books from T. Kingfisher will prove equally engrossing and satisfying in what will be my own journey of discovery through this author’s works.

[2wondery_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Interesting impossible tasks and good comrades. The narrator captures the matter-of-fact attitude of the dust-witch in a lovely way.

[fred_mouse · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I feel weird about rating a book I sat and read in one sitting so low, but the reality is that I finished it in one setting through sheer bloody mindedness, not any kind of fascination or absorption.I get that this is a fairy tale trope based story, and that those tend to have quite dark histories. It presents as fantasy, but I experienced it much more as horror. I suggest that people be aware ahead of time that there are multiple important content warnings, whether or not they choose to check what they are. There are some uses and subversions of tropes that I liked. It is, unsurprisingly, the good/kind but not very bright third child of the rulers who is the 'hero', although our protagonist, Marra, spends a lot of time avoiding being a hero. The story opens as they do a trope appropriate impossible task; when they return to the dust-wife, the response is very much a subversion of the expected response. The resolution of the story is very much built from the bones of other stories, in ways that become almost inevitable, even if the decorative twiddles are different. The writing is robust, the world building a delight (there are so many hinted at details that could each fill a book of side quests), the characters varied. The politics of how the two kingdoms fit together is very well thought out, particularly the details of why various people make the choices that they do, even though they look like such bad choices. Various things frustrated me. Something about the names of the sisters didn't sit right, and I can't say why, but Damia, Kania, and Marra are just such an uncomfortable set. The naming ceremony for the royal child being a christening, in a world without Christianity (I can take the presence of godmothers with more equanimity, because after all, there are many gods in this world). The characterisation felt off at times, and I found the romance that happens to have almost come out of left field. I realise that I am often oblivious to sub-text, but this was more than usual, and I was all 'why?'. In terms of the spoilery thoughts: I was intensely frustrated that the oldest sister is effectively fridged. I get that their death was an important plot point, but I don't think they get any agency in the story, I'm not sure they get anything other than a couple of scenes to appear and disappear from, and everything about them is filtered through the youngest sibling's Me Me Me. Yes, it is tight first person for those bits, but I really didn't like how that part of the story line was handled

[spiritedstardust · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

First 5 star I've had in a while, so long that I forgot how they feel - like a grandmothers hug with the thrill of a stomach somersault during take off.

This was amazing
I loved the writing.
I loved the characters (Agnes and bone witch (I call her Griselda) are a hoot and a half, such a grumpy sunshine combo).
I loved the story.

It was such a fun read and I am eager to check out more of the author's work.

[randymorgan-144387 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Princess Marra has one seemingly impossible objective; to stop her sister’s abuser. Through unconventional tasks and discouraging trades, Marra was able to enlist: a geavewitch, a former knight, a fairy godmother, two chickens, and a resurrected dog. This ensemble plots to break a curse, topple a throne, and most importantly, protect Marra’s sister. T. Kingfisher starts by corralling the reader with a dark, eccentric, and mysterious opening. Then book shuffles through the back story, which is mildly discouraging. The clever use of metaphors keeps humor in the story while maintaining vivid imagery. The sarcastic witty dialogue contrast elegantly with the overarching gloom and paces the plot of this grim tale. Nettle & Bone is a Vulture Best Fantasy Novel of 2022.

[bookczuk · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Pandemic Read. As long as T Kingfisher keeps writing, I'll keep reading.

[verkruissen · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

 Absolutely loved this book. It had elements of magic, folklore and romance. I laughed out loud at parts, especially the demonic chicken :) I would definitely recommend this for fans of Naomi Novik's Spinning Silver and Uprooted.

[foggidawn · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Marra, youngest princess of a small kingdom, has spent half of her life in a convent. When she discovers that her sister, married to a prince of a neighboring kingdom, is in danger, she is willing to face any task to save her. This will mean leaving her comfort zone, both literally and metaphorically, and bringing together a small crew of misfits who just might be able to change the destinies of more than one kingdom.The very first bit of this book is pretty grim, with some elements of horror, but after that part the story settles more into quest fantasy lines, with plenty of humor and delightful characters. There's a slow-burn romance that, while not central to the story, is quite delightful and satisfying. I enjoyed every bit of this book, and would definitely recommend it.

[thedivineoomba · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Its not often you come across a newly written fairy tale that manages to break stereotypes, while completely embracing them. The story itself is a simple, a princess needs to rescue her sister from an abusive husband, goes on a quest to find help, that comes in the way of a dust-wife, a godmother, and a bodyguard.Of course, there are twists and turns. Parts are dark, very dark. From the forest where Bonedog is put together, to the Goblin Market. Other parts are sad, from being forced to live, whether for a kingdom, or by a spell. Marra herself is a breath of fresh air - she is exactly what she is suppose to be, a third princess, being kept in a convent to both keep her as a backup, but also so doesn't compete with her queen sister. There really is only one bad person in this story, but a lot of morally ambiguous choices.

[rivkat_2 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

In order to save her sister from the prince who is abusing her, a princess-turned-kind-of-nun goes on a quest to do three impossible things to get help from a witch with the power to help. Unsurprisingly, the quest doesn’t go the way it often does in fairy tales; there’s dog made of bones and wire and a number of other surprises along the way. It was fine but not my favorite of Kingfisher’s work—I came away mainly with the impression that she’s really into animals made of bones, both in horror and non-horror varieties (to the extent the latter is possible).

[gwendydd · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a delightful fairy tale. It has all of the elements of a fairy tale - a quest, witches and wizards, fairy godmothers, a princess in need of rescue, marriage to a prince - but it manages to take all of those familiar fairy tale elements and turn them into something completely different. The hero of the quest is not a knight in shining armor, but the younger sister of the endangered princess. The marriage to the prince is not the prize at the end of the story, but instead the source of danger. Marra is the third daughter of a king of a small kingdom. Her mother is a brilliant and ruthless politician, who arranges for the oldest daughter to be married to the prince of a powerful neighboring kingdom. When she dies unexpected, the middle daughter marries him. Marra is sent to live in a convent, where she is supposed to retain her virtue in case the middle sister dies and the prince needs a third wife. Marra slowly realizes that the prince is cruel and abusive, and that he will likely murder his wife as soon as she bears him a son. She sets out on a quest to save her sister from her husband. She gets the help of a Bonewife, a crotchety old woman who can work magic with the dead. They rescue a knight from a goblin market, and the three of them must find a way to kill the prince and save Marra's sister.There is so much to love about this book. The remixing of fairy tale elements is ingenious. The Bonewife has a delightful dry humor. Marra is relatable as an ordinary person who is called on to do extraordinary things. The romance between Marra and the knight is slow and feels genuine. The world-building is excellent.

[lauriebrown54 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I found Kingfisher’s latest delightful. Written in the style of fairy tales, it is set in a fantasy world where magic of different sorts works. Our heroine, Marra, is the third child of the king and queen of a tiny realm that includes a deep water harbor, a valuable asset. The powerful kingdoms to their north and south both want to control the harbor, and the queen knows what must be done. The oldest daughter, the beautiful and sweet Damia, is wed to the northern prince, with the understanding that their oldest child would rule the north, while the second would rule the harbor kingdom. It’s no time before Damia dies, however, and the middle daughter, Kania, less beautiful and much less sweet, is carried off to be the prince’s next wife and broodmare. At 15, Marra is bundled off to a nunnery to live, hopefully safe and forgotten by the world. Here she lives for 15 years, shoveling animal stalls, working in the kitchen, delivering babies, and spending vast amounts of time learning needlework. Little news gets there, but finally there is a funeral to be held in the northern kingdom; the girl child of Kania and prince Vorling has died. Taken from the nunnery to attend, Marra finds that things are not well in her sister’s life. Not only is she nearly constantly pregnant and failing to produce a viable child, much less a prince, but Marra sees bruises on her sister, who admits they were put there- frequently- by Vorling. This, Marra decides, can not be allowed to go on. Here starts her quest for justice. Since she is not a nun, but just living there, the abbess cannot stop Marra when she leaves. She seeks the help of a dust-wife, who is a powerful witch who can work with the dead. When Marra tells her what she wants- to free her sister by killing Vorling- she agrees that she will help IF Marra can accomplish three tasks: weave a cloak of owl cloth and nettles, create a living dog from a pit full of bones, and catch the moonlight in a jar. Marra manages the first two, and they are off on their quest. Along the way they gather helpers; a magical godmother, an ex-knight who is held slave in a goblin market, a hen possessed by a demon (but the best layer of the flock), a cursed chick who finds things, an inn keeper with a demonic parasite. The odds are against them, and they have no firm plan, but try they will….The characters are wonderful. There is no Chosen One, and no one has a gods given Purpose. These are the people who are frequently over looked in stories. Their adventures are fantastical and, at times, absurd. There is a hint of Pratchett in this world, but with few puns and a much more believable set up. This book was a couldn’t- put-it-down one for me. The world is not a pretty, high fantasy one, but a world you could believe once existed on earth. Five shiny stars!

[quondame · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

At 15 Marra was sent to a convent to prevent her from producing a rival heir to the small city-state kingdom which her older sister's eventual child by the King of the large Northern Kingdom should inherit. Marra prefers her convent life to court life, but when she is 30 the death of her only niece makes her face the reality of the nightmare her sister faces and she leaves the convent to search for a magic to kill the controlling abusive king. This sounds all serious, but the cast of older misfits and a bouncy bone dog she collects, to say nothing of a demon inhabited hen, produce a very fun read.

[sennebec · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

There are numerous surprises awaiting readers in this book. When I started it, I expected Marra to end up being a monster, or vengeful woman. I was wrong. She grew up feeling more like a spare part that had been stashed away in case she was needed by her rather scheming and pragmatic mother, a queen whose country has a very desirable harbor and is situated between two, more powerful kingdoms.Greatly hurt by her older sister's suspicious death and fearing for the life of her other sister, now married to the same ruthless and cruel prince, Marra leaves the convent where she's lived for more than half her life and embarks upon a dangerous quest to save her sister. It involves fulfilling three requirements, all on the bizarre side, making an alliance with a woman who tends a cemetery, a most unusual pet, a demon-possessed chicken and two fairy godmothers who are far from any you read about when you were a child. In the end, you're likely to quietly cheer for Marra and her companion. Read the book to fill in what I've omitted from this review.

[muddyboy · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A fantasy novel with some dark undertone.s For securiy reasons (for her country) a princess from a smaller country is married off to a king from an aggressive neighboring realm.Her younger sister who had become a nun finds out that her sister is being abused and her life is in danger."Nun" sister leaves the convent to assemble a ragtag group of rescuers (each with special abilities) to help her sister escape her plight. A solid effort.

[jjmcgaffey · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

They keep trying to market her stuff as horror and it's just not. It's not happy little kid's stories either...but fairy tales weren't, back when. Serious physical and mental/emotional abuse, but the story is about fixing it (one way or another…). Some nice tricks, but mostly it's just her doing what needs doing (the usual Vernon/Kingfisher pragmatics). I like the bonedog.

[sucharita1986 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Nettle and Bone by T. Kingfisher is a tale spun in magic. It is the first time that I am reading something by the author. The book is of medium length. The positive points are that the plot sparks up from the beginning and the climax is a bit interesting. The characters are strong, magical and confident. The story focusses on women who are just puppets in the name of saving the empire. But, our protagonist, Marra understands that she is not like others and takes her own stand. The only negative point is that in the middle the plot loses its way and becomes a little bit boring. But, the climax saves the book.I would like to give 4 stars to the book. Thanks to Netgalley for providing me an opportunity to read and review the book.