Readers of Agatha Christie, Dorothy Sayers, or the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys mysteries will likely find These Deadly Prophecies by Andrea Tang a thrilling “who dun it.” Under the influence of Tang’s pen, readers will revel in the plot twists as they follow the various leads.
The story begins with seventeen-year-old Tabatha Zeng who works for Sorcerer Julian Solomon. Although Tabatha knows that sorcery is a liar’s game and the product of want, that knowledge doesn’t change her passion for predicting fortunes and fates. “Telling the future required clearing your mind of wants, of desires. [A sorcerer’s] job isn’t to change the future—merely to see it” (11). However, when Sorcerer Solomon turns up bloodied and dismembered in his workshop, the entire family falls under suspicion. Was this murder, an accident, or a spell gone horribly wrong?
Because Julian had foretold his own death and had also asked Tabatha to vow to stay by the side of his son Callum, both of the teens are immediate suspects. Their first task is to dodge Detective Chang, the head of the occult crimes unit. “Any whiff of magic on a local crime, and Chang was on it like a bloodhound” (30). In Chang’s opinion, “the way magic drives its practitioners is not . . . so different from the way money drives those gambling traders on Wall Street. . . . Magic makes you hungry. Hungry turns into greedy. And greed, Tabatha, is a dangerous force when it drives the heart of a sorcerer” (36).
And Julian loved nothing more than he loved sorcery. About his father, Callum reports: “What no one actually wants to say aloud about my father [is that] what he loved most in the world wasn’t anyone or anything human. It was the occult itself. It was the rush of sorcery, the thrum of magic at work. What human love could compete with something like that?” (76).
As the story unfolds, readers are introduced to an array of potential explanations and possible murderers. We also learn a great deal about the occult and the three classes of sorcery: illusion, kinetic, and prophecy.
While some readers might have difficulty suspending their unbelief where magic is concerned, Tang does propose some intriguing ideas about the mind of a genius: “Usually the geniuses of a field, the truly obsessed, the ones who lived and breathed [a singular topic], who went on to become true innovators with few other interests in life—started losing touch with reality as they got older. Too much strain on the brain” (116).
Tang further reminds us all of the value of individuality and the importance of handling our fates with care. When we mimic others, we jeopardize our identities. “You need to stop using sorcery and wearing our faces . . . you need to [reclaim your power and] go back to being you. . . . [If you don’t like one version of yourself], be another version of you. Be a you that you actually like . . . , but don’t try to be [someone else]” (233).
- Donna