Defend the Dawn Is a Slow, Introspective Sequel That Leaves Its Heroine Behind

But if Defy the Night was predominantly Tessa’s story, then Defend the Dawn is clearly Corrick’s, as he struggles to figure out what kind of leader he wants to become and how much of himself he’s willing to sacrifice in the name of protecting and advancing Kandala’s interests. Kemmerer pulls no punches about the wide variety of dark and often grisly things he’s had to do in his role as the King’s Justice, and Corrick is honest about the fact that he doesn’t regret most of them. His pragmatic determination is refreshing, though the book occasionally leans a bit too heavily on the idea that Corrick’s behavior is simply because he is a cynical person, particularly when contrasted to Tessa’s starry-eyed optimism (rather than really wrestling with the fact that he’s come by his trepidation and caution very honestly.)

Sadly, Tessa is perhaps the book’s weakest element, which is a real shame given how the feisty, rebellious heroine was such a highlight of the series’ first installment. Here, however, Tessa often comes across as painfully, even willfully, naive—and her constant suspicion of Corrick in the face of her open-hearted belief in the goodness of almost every other character becomes quite grating by the end of the story, as does her seemingly endless vacillation about her feelings for him. There are, thankfully, a few moments of pointed self-reflection for them both—such as when Corrick calls her out on her need to embrace the quick fix of vigilante justice rather than do the slow and often boring work of real change, or when he is forced to realize how his refusal to punish some of the nobles looks to those he’s claiming to want to help.

Defend the Dawn is at its best when it’s exploring the ways that both love and politics often require us to extend a hand of grace to someone we disagree with or who has let us down in some significant way. In Defy the Night we saw Tessa forced to learn that the world is less black and white than she once believed it to be. After all, it’s easy to call for revolution when you’re not responsible for the careful balancing act required to both maintain the peace and get the most medicine possible into the hands of those that need it. Though our heroine seems to backslide a bit in this installment—her immediate decision to believe Captain Blakemore and trust his motives without reservation is….a choice!—Corrick takes two steps forward, at least when it comes to seeing the value of perspectives outside his own and understanding that sometimes desperate people only have bad choices open to them, as much as he might wish it were otherwise.

But despite Kemmerer’s trademark propulsive writing style—you’ll breeze through this novel despite its length—too much of Defend the Dawn feels like filler and much of the story spins its wheels with repetitive conversations and duplicative scenes (we get it, Rian and Corrick don’t like each other!) until we reach the final quarter of the book where the real action starts and shocking revelations abound. As a result, while I’ve no doubt the third book in this trilogy will be thrilling, it’s hard not to miss the story this book might have told on its own.

Defend the Dawn is available now from Bloomsbury Children’s.