The Tomb of Dragons is that rare third book of a trilogy that makes me view the first two books very differently. All three of the “Cemeteries of Amalo” share a world and time with Addison’s classic, The Goblin Emperor. The first-person narrator of the trilogy is Thara Celehar, a cleric of Ulis and a Witness for the Dead, someone who can reach the spirits of the departing newly dead and communicate with them in a limited fashion. Such Witnesses give true testimony about the thoughts or wishes of the dead so as to answer questions about their death, or to resolve other disputes. Their abilities also enable them to do things like still undead ghouls. In both The Witness for the Dead and The Grief of Stones Celehar has put his supernatural skills in the service of the people around him, and the communities he is a part of.
His last act of service, though, cost him dearly. He can no longer witness, although this is not widely known. In The Grief of Stones, he had taken on an apprentice, Velhiro Tomasaran. Now she must assume the full office much sooner than anyone had anticipated. She came to be a cleric later in life, and she is not what most people of Amalo expect. Celehar is unstinting in support, and at least at the beginning of her service he may believe in Velhiro more than she herself does. A short novel from her perspective would be very interesting, and that’s true of many of the other characters who pass through the pages of The Tomb of Dragons. Celehar’s friend from the opera Iäna Pel-Thenhior would be an urbane counterpart to the dedicated but also self-doubting Celehar; a book from his point of view would show a lively and creative city, and his work balancing art with the cheerful mercenary approach necessary to keep an opera company in business. Like the end of The Goblin Emperor, the end of Celehar’s trilogy leaves open how many more stories Addison could tell.









