The Goblin Emperor

Brought to you by Penguin.

"Challenging, invigorating, and unique." - Scott Lynch, bestselling author of The Lies of Locke Lamora

Maia, the youngest, half-goblin son of the Emperor has lived his entire life in exile, distant from the Imperial Court and the deadly intrigue that suffuses it. But when his father and three sons in line for the throne are killed in an "accident," he has no choice but to take his place as the only surviving rightful heir. Entirely unschooled in the art of court politics, he has no friends, no advisors, and the sure knowledge that whoever assassinated his father and brothers could make an attempt on his life at any moment. Surrounded by sycophants eager to curry favour with the naive new emperor, and overwhelmed by the burdens of his new life, he can trust nobody. Amid the swirl of plots to depose him, offers of arranged marriages, and the spectre of the unknown conspirators who lurk in the shadows, he must quickly adjust to life as the Goblin Emperor.

© Katherine Addison 2021 (P) Penguin Audio and Rebellion Publishing 2021

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The Goblin Emperor

Brought to you by Penguin.

"Challenging, invigorating, and unique." - Scott Lynch, bestselling author of The Lies of Locke Lamora

Maia, the youngest, half-goblin son of the Emperor has lived his entire life in exile, distant from the Imperial Court and the deadly intrigue that suffuses it. But when his father and three sons in line for the throne are killed in an "accident," he has no choice but to take his place as the only surviving rightful heir. Entirely unschooled in the art of court politics, he has no friends, no advisors, and the sure knowledge that whoever assassinated his father and brothers could make an attempt on his life at any moment. Surrounded by sycophants eager to curry favour with the naive new emperor, and overwhelmed by the burdens of his new life, he can trust nobody. Amid the swirl of plots to depose him, offers of arranged marriages, and the spectre of the unknown conspirators who lurk in the shadows, he must quickly adjust to life as the Goblin Emperor.

© Katherine Addison 2021 (P) Penguin Audio and Rebellion Publishing 2021

16.98 In Stock
The Goblin Emperor

The Goblin Emperor

by Katherine Addison

Narrated by Kyle McCarley

Unabridged — 17 hours, 38 minutes

The Goblin Emperor

The Goblin Emperor

by Katherine Addison

Narrated by Kyle McCarley

Unabridged — 17 hours, 38 minutes

Audiobook (Digital)

$16.98
(Not eligible for purchase using B&N Audiobooks Subscription credits)

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Overview

Brought to you by Penguin.

"Challenging, invigorating, and unique." - Scott Lynch, bestselling author of The Lies of Locke Lamora

Maia, the youngest, half-goblin son of the Emperor has lived his entire life in exile, distant from the Imperial Court and the deadly intrigue that suffuses it. But when his father and three sons in line for the throne are killed in an "accident," he has no choice but to take his place as the only surviving rightful heir. Entirely unschooled in the art of court politics, he has no friends, no advisors, and the sure knowledge that whoever assassinated his father and brothers could make an attempt on his life at any moment. Surrounded by sycophants eager to curry favour with the naive new emperor, and overwhelmed by the burdens of his new life, he can trust nobody. Amid the swirl of plots to depose him, offers of arranged marriages, and the spectre of the unknown conspirators who lurk in the shadows, he must quickly adjust to life as the Goblin Emperor.

© Katherine Addison 2021 (P) Penguin Audio and Rebellion Publishing 2021


Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

02/03/2014
Ambitious and meticulously executed worldbuilding brings an animated dazzle to this exceptional assemblage of character studies and complex encounters, while the expressive evocation of its youthful protagonist’s shyness and insecurity adds an affecting authenticity to the steampunk-infused fantasy setting. Crafted with a preternatural deftness, the elf kingdom of Ethuveraz is a multilayered masterwork. Its density of arcana, language, ritual, and protocol staggers the long-exiled 18-year-old half-goblin heir, Maia Drazhar, when he is thrust onto the imperial throne after his distant father and more favored brothers are assassinated by an act of airship sabotage. Facing ridicule, racism, and outright hostility, Maia nonetheless stumblingly shoulders the burden, his own outcast status becoming his greatest strength. Acts of kindness and empathy begin to earn him the acceptance, if not outright affection, of his courtiers and the populace. Less a novel than a series of anecdotes, this stalwart endeavor, which is fantasist Sarah Monette’s first work under the Addison name, is carried by the strength of atmosphere and Maia’s resonant good-heartedness. Readers will hope for many more tales of Ethuveraz. (Apr.)

From the Publisher

Unbound Worlds 100 Best Fantasy Novels of All Time

A Best Fantasy Novel of the Decade Pick for BookRiot

Winner of the Locus Award and finalist for the Hugo, the Nebula, and the World Fantasy Award

"Striking. . . . Written in a controlled, almost Kazuo Ishiguro-an style. . . .The style and setting and court language stay with you."—New York Times

“Challenging, invigorating, and unique. If courtly intrigue is your wine of choice, The Goblin Emperor is the headiest vintage I've come across in years.” —Scott Lynch, bestselling author of The Lies of Locke Lamora

“I liked it. It's a fantasy, a novel of court intrigue. Those of you who like that aspect of my own work will probably like The Goblin Emperor as well.”—George R. R. Martin

“Spellbinding. . . . Unreservedly recommended.”—Kirkus, starred review

"Fantastic." —Library Journal, starred review

"The only thing wrong with The Goblin Emperor was that it was, for a long time, a stand-alone. But now there's a sequel, The Witness for the Dead — so if you love the world Katherine Addison has created, you've got a way back to it."—NPR, Best SFF of the Past Decade feature

“Subtle, intricate, fascinating worldbuilding.”—Katherine Arden, author of The Bear and the Nightingale

“I enjoyed The Goblin Emperor a great deal. I was sucked right into her world of goblins, elves, and airships, and was anxious to the very end to find out how Maia, the unwanted halfblood son of the Emperor, who finds himself unexpectedly on the throne, learns to navigate the intrigues and danger of the imperial court. An engrossing read!” —Kristen Britain, New York Times bestselling author of Blackveil

"Impressively elaborate worldbuilding underpins this lovely fantasy novel, but I couldn't put it down because of the heart-grippingly sympathetic main character."—Kate Elliott, bestselling author of Unconquerable Sun

The Goblin Emperor has one of the most lovable characters we’ve met in ages. . . . Remarkably compelling and fascinating.”—iO9

"The Goblin Emperor manages to feel cozy while addressing traumatic events.... This is one of my favorite fantasy novels. Maia is such a sweet and thoughtful character."—The Observer

"Ambitious and meticulously executed."—Publishers Weekly

"Addison has built a completely believable world, complete with its own language, customs, and history, but there are tantalizingly familiar elements (such as newspapers and pocket watches) that make us wonder from whence this world came and whether it might have sprung from our own, in a distant future." —Booklist

The Goblin Emperor made me remember why I fell in love with the fantasy genre.”—Jim C. Hines, bestselling author of Goblin Quest

"Katherine Addison has written a nuanced and compelling story. Her world is unusual and vivid, her characters affecting, and her storytelling subtle and deft. This is a book I will be thinking about for a long time. Highly recommended!" —D. B. Jackson, author of Thieftaker

"A refreshing change from typical grimdark fantasy, focusing on kindness, empathy, and the personal growth of a reluctant ruler."—Times Now News

The Goblin Emperor is a delicious tangle of court intrigue, murder, and an abused boy's coming of age.”—Pharaoh Francis, bestselling author of the Horngate Witches series

"One of the most grittily hopeful books I’ve read for quite a significant while, and one I’d definitely agree deserves its accolade."—Fantasy Book Review, Top 100 Fantasy Books Feature

Booklist

The author combines steampunk and fantasy…to tell an utterly captivating story. Addison has built a completely believable world, with its own language, customs, and history, but there are tantalizingly familiar elements (such as newspapers and pocket watches) that make us wonder from whence this world came and whether it might have sprung from our own, in a distant future. There are lots of unanswered questions here that will likely be addressed in a sequel.”

bestselling author of the Crossroads series Kate Elliott

Impressively elaborate worldbuilding underpins this lovely fantasy novel, but I couldn’t put it down because of the heart-grippingly sympathetic main character.”

bestselling author of The Lies of Locke Lamora Scott Lynch

Challenging, invigorating, and unique. If courtly intrigue is your wine of choice, The Goblin Emperor is the headiest vintage I’ve come across in years.”

From the Publisher - AUDIO COMMENTARY

"A spellbinding and genuinely affecting drama. Unreservedly recommended." —Kirkus Starred Review

JANUARY 2015 - AudioFile

Narrator Kyle McCarley vividly portrays the fast-paced education of Maia, the young half-goblin son of the Emperor, who is thrust from exile to the throne when his father and his three favored brothers are killed. As Maia becomes acclimated to the intrigue of the court, McCarley reflects the changes in him and in those around him. The many sycophants at court give McCarley an opportunity to draw on a deep store of voices from many classes and backgrounds. He handles the complicated names and titles with ease and creates an atmosphere that draws the listener into this compelling tale. J.E.M. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award © AudioFile 2015, Portland, Maine

Kirkus Reviews

★ 2014-02-16
New fantasy from an author who, as Sarah Monette, wrote the Doctrine of Labyrinth series. Eighteen-year-old half-goblin Maia, the despised youngest son of the Emperor, lives in wretched circumstances, exiled from the Imperial Court and overseen by his brutal cousin, Setheris. But then a courier arrives with the news that his father and elder brothers have been killed in an airship crash. Stunned and disconcerted, Maia must take his place as the rightful Emperor of the Elflands. Armed only with his quick wits, empathy and natural humility, his first task is to face down the arrogant and contemptuous Lord Chancellor, Uleris Chavar, and insist that he be crowned before his father's funeral. Alone and friendless, bewildered by the complex politics and economics of the court—and soon informed that his father's death was caused by sabotage, not accident—Maia finds the burden almost unsupportable. He comes to rely on Csevet, the courier who becomes his secretary, for information and advice and on his guards Cala and Beshelar, who are sworn to protect him. Gradually he finds ways to solve intractable problems. He treats servants as people and women as equals, an approach that wins him many admirers but also enrages the more traditional nobles. Addison patiently and tellingly paints in the backdrop, mingling steampunk elements and low-key magic with imperial intricacies. There are powerful character studies and a plot full of small but deadly traps among which the sweet-natured, perplexed Maia must navigate. The result is a spellbinding and genuinely affecting drama. Unreservedly recommended.

Product Details

BN ID: 2940175785181
Publisher: Random House UK
Publication date: 06/03/2021
Edition description: Unabridged
Sales rank: 1,103,660

Read an Excerpt

1

News Comes to Edonomee

 

 

Maia woke with his cousin’s cold fingers digging into his shoulder.

“Cousin? What…” He sat up, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. “What time is it?”

“Get up!” Setheris snarled. “Hurry!”

Obediently, Maia crawled out of bed, clumsy and sleep-sodden. “What’s toward? Is there a fire?”

“Get thy clothes on.” Setheris shoved yesterday’s clothes at him. Maia dropped them, fumbling with the strings of his nightshirt, and Setheris hissed with exasperation as he bent to pick them up. “A messenger from the court. That’s what’s toward.”

“A message from my father?”

“Is’t not what I said? Merciful goddesses, boy, canst do nothing for thyself? Here!” He jerked the nightshirt off, caring neither for the knotted strings nor for Maia’s ears, and shoved his clothes at him again. Maia struggled into drawers, trousers, shirt, and jacket, aware that they were wrinkled and sweat-stained, but unwilling to try Setheris’s ill temper by saying so. Setheris watched grimly by the single candle’s light, his ears flat against his head. Maia could not find his stockings, nor would Setheris give him time to search. “Come along!” he said as soon as Maia had his jacket fastened, and Maia followed him barefoot out of the room, noticing in the stronger light that while Setheris was still properly and fully attired, his face was flushed. So he had not been wakened from sleep by the emperor’s messenger, but only because he had not yet been to bed. Maia hoped uneasily that Setheris had not drunk enough metheglin to mar the glossy perfection of his formal court manners.

Maia ran his hands through his hair, fingers catching on knots in his heavy curls. It would not be the first time one of his father’s messengers had witnessed him as unkempt as a half-witted ragpicker’s child, but that did not help with the miserable midnight imaginings: So, tell us, how looked our son? He reminded himself it was unlikely his father ever asked after him in the first place and tried to keep his chin and ears up as he followed Setheris into the lodge’s small and shabby receiving room.

The messenger was maybe a year or so older than Maia himself, but elegant even in his road-stained leathers. He was clearly full-blooded elvish, as Maia was not; his hair was milkweed-pale, and his eyes the color of rain. He looked from Setheris to Maia and said, “Are you the Archduke Maia Drazhar, only child of Varenechibel the Fourth and Chenelo Drazharan?”

“Yes,” Maia said, bewildered.

And then bewilderment compounded bewilderment, as the messenger deliberately and with perfect dignity prostrated himself on the threadbare rug. “Your Imperial Serenity,” he said.

“Oh, get up, man, and stop babbling!” Setheris said. “We understood that you had messages from the Archduke’s father.”

“Then you understand what we do not,” the messenger said, rising again to his feet, as graceful as a cat. “We bear messages from the Untheileneise Court.”

Maia said hastily, merely to prevent the altercation from escalating, “Please, explain.”

“Your Serenity,” the messenger said. “The airship Wisdom of Choharo crashed yesterday, sometime between sunrise and noon. The Emperor Varenechibel the Fourth, the Prince Nemolis, the Archduke Nazhira, and the Archduke Ciris were all on board. They were returning from the wedding of the Prince of Thu-Athamar.”

“And the Wisdom of Choharo crashed,” Maia said slowly, carefully.

“Yes, Serenity,” said the messenger. “There were no survivors.”

For five pounding heartbeats, the words made no sense. Nothing made sense; nothing had made sense since he had woken with Setheris’s grip hurting his shoulder. And then it was suddenly, pitilessly clear. As if from a very long distance away, he heard his own voice saying, “What caused the crash?”

“Does it matter?” Setheris said.

“Serenity,” said the messenger with a deliberate nod in Maia’s direction. “They do not yet know. But the Lord Chancellor has sent Witnesses, and it is being investigated.”

“Thank you,” said Maia. He knew neither what he felt nor what he ought to feel, but he knew what he ought to do, the next necessary thing. “You said … there are messages?”

“Yes, Serenity.” The messenger turned and picked up his dispatch case from where it lay on the side table. There was only one letter within, which the messenger held out. Setheris snatched the letter and broke the seal savagely, as if he still believed the messenger to be lying.

He scanned the paper, his customary frown deepening into a black scowl, then flung it at Maia and stalked from the room. Maia grabbed at it ineffectually as it fluttered to the floor.

The messenger knelt to retrieve it before Maia could and handed it to him without a flicker of expression.

Maia felt his face heating, his ears lowering, but he knew better than to try to explain or apologize for Setheris. He bent his attention to the letter. It was from his father’s Lord Chancellor, Uleris Chavar:

To the Archduke Maia Drazhar, heir to the imperial throne of Ethuveraz, greetings in this hour of greatest grief.

Knowing that Your Imperial Serenity will want all honor and respect paid to your late father and brothers, we have ordered arrangements put in train for a full ceremonial funeral in three days’ time, that is, on the twenty-third instant. We will notify the five principalities, also Your Imperial Serenity’s sister in Ashedro. We have already ordered the courier office to put airships at their disposal, and we have no doubt that they will use all necessary haste to reach the Untheileneise Court in good time for the funeral.

We do not, of course, know what Your Imperial Serenity’s plans may be, but we hold ourself ready to implement them.

With true sorrow and unswerving loyalty,

Uleris Chavar

Maia looked up. The messenger was watching him, as impassive as ever; only the angle of his ears betrayed his interest.

“I … we must speak with our cousin,” he said, the constructions of the formal first person awkward and unaccustomed. “Do you … that is, you must be tired. Let us summon a manservant to tend to your needs.”

“Your Serenity is very kind,” the messenger said, and if he knew that there were only two menservants in the entire household of Edonomee, he gave no sign.

Maia rang the bell, knowing that birdlike Pelchara would be waiting eagerly for a chance to find out what was happening. Haru, who did all the outside work, was probably still asleep; Haru slept like the dead, and the whole household knew it.

Pelchara popped in, his ears up and his eyes bright and inquisitive. “This gentleman,” Maia said, mortified to realize that he did not know the messenger’s name, “has traveled hard. Please see that he has everything he requires.” He faltered before the thought of explaining the news to Pelchara, mumbled, “I will be with my cousin,” and hurried out.

He could see light under Setheris’s door, and could hear his cousin’s brisk, bristling stride. Let him not have stopped for the metheglin decanter, Maia thought, a brief, hopeless prayer, and tapped on the door.

“Who is’t?” At least he did not sound any drunker than he had a quarter hour ago.

“Maia. May I—?”

The door opened with savage abruptness, and Setheris stood in the opening, glaring. “Well? What chews on thy tail, boy?”

“Cousin,” Maia said, almost whispering, “what must I do?”

“What must thou do?” Setheris snorted laughter. “Thou must be emperor, boy. Must rule all the Elflands and banish thy kindred as thou seest fit. Why com’st thou whining to me of what thou must do?”

“Because I don’t know.”

“Moon-witted hobgoblin,” Setheris said, but it was contempt by reflex; his expression was abstracted.

“Yes, cousin,” Maia said meekly.

After a moment, Setheris’s eyes sharpened again, but this time without the burning anger. “Thou wish’st advice?”

“Yes, cousin.”

“Come in,” Setheris said, and Maia entered his cousin’s bedchamber for the first time.

It was as austere as Setheris himself—no mementoes of the Untheileneise Court, no luxuries. Setheris waved Maia to the only chair and himself sat on the bed. “Thou’rt right, boy. The wolves are waiting to devour thee. Hast thou the letter?”

“Yes, cousin.” Maia handed Setheris the letter, now rather crumpled and the worse for wear. Setheris read it, frowning again, but this time his ears were cocked thoughtfully. When he had finished, he folded the letter neatly, his long white fingers smoothing the creases. “He presumes much, does Uleris.”

“He does?” And then, realizing: “Dost know him?”

“We were enemies for many years,” Setheris said, shrugging it aside. “And I see he has not changed.”

“What mean’st thou?”

“Uleris has no reason to love thee, boy.”

“He says he’s loyal.”

“Yes. But loyal to what? Not to thee, for thou art merely the last and least favored child of his dead master, who wished thee not on the throne, as well thou know’st. Use thy wits, boy—an thou hast any.”

“What do you mean?”

“Merciful goddesses, grant me patience,” Setheris said ostentatiously to the ceiling. “Consider, boy. Thou art emperor. What must thou do first?”

“Cousin, this is not the time for riddles.”

“And it is not a riddle I pose thee.” Setheris shut his mouth and glared at him, and after a moment, Maia realized.

“The coronation.”

“Ha!” Setheris brought his hands together sharply, making Maia jump. “Exactly. So why, I ask thee, does thy coronation not figure largely in Uleris’s plans or, indeed, at all?”

“The funeral—”

“No! Thou think’st as a child, not as an emperor. The dead are dead, and they care not for the honor Uleris prates of, as well he knows. It is the living power that must concern thee, as it concerns him.”

“But…”

Think, boy,” Setheris said, leaning forward, his cold eyes alight with fervor. “If thou art capable—if thou hast ever thought before in thy life—think. Thou com’st to the Untheileneise Court, the funeral is held. What then?”

“I speak to … oh.”

“Thou seest.”

“Yes.” Better than Setheris might care to realize, for it was at his cousin’s hands that Maia had learned this particular lesson; by waiting, he put himself in the position of a supplicant to Chavar, and supplicants could always be denied. “Then what must I do?”

Setheris said, “Thou must countermand Uleris. Meaning that thou must reach the Untheileneise Court before he has time to entrench himself.”

“But how can I?” It took most of a week to reach the court from Edonomee.

“Airship,” Setheris said as if it were obvious.

Maia’s stomach knotted. “I couldn’t.”

“Thou must. Or thou shalt be a puppet dancing at the end of Uleris’s strings, and to a tune of his choosing. And thy nineteenth birthday may very well see thee dead.”

Maia bowed his head. “Yes, cousin.”

“The airship that brought Chavar’s lapdog here can take us back. They’ll be waiting for him. Now, go. Make thyself fit to be seen.”

“Yes, cousin,” Maia said, and did not contest Setheris’s assumption that he would be traveling to the court with the new emperor.

 

Copyright © 2014 by Katherine Addison

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