A Chorus Rises, the sequel to Bethany C. Morrow's A Song Below Water, tells the story of Naema, an Eloko who up until now has had a pretty perfect life. In the year since the events of A Song Below Water, however, things have not gone as well for Naema. Needing to get away from Portland, Naema goes to visit family for the first time, and discovers new abilities she never knew she had.

Naema is not the most sympathetic character in A Song Below Water, and A Chorus Rises does an excellent job of making her extremely relatable while not undermining any of the characteristics that define her. The novel also introduces some truly wonderful new characters, such as Naema's cousin Courtney, while providing further depth to characters only mentioned in passing in A Song Below Water.

A Chorus Rises is much more internal than A Song Below Water -- much of the novel's action takes place within Naema's thoughts. It is a smaller novel overall by page count as well as in its scope -- the stakes feel lower, the tension not running at high.

Morrow continues to explore intersectionality with great success, managing to avoid using magic as a metaphor for race, a trope fantasy novels too often fall into, by having the race issues integral to the plot and character development. This is not a world where magic exists instead of race -- it is a world where magic is yet another identity that has to be taken into consideration right alongside race.

The ending of A Chorus Rises falls a little flat, but overall the book is a fantastic continuation of this world and this story, and anyone who liked A Song Below Water is sure to enjoy A Chorus Rises.

Thank you to Tor Teen and NetGalley for the ARC!

Solid follow-up to A Song Below Water. It’s less action-packed and dramatic than ASBW, as it’s far more of a character portrait exploring Naema’s internal journey and growth, but it works well in that vein. I love that these books place magic identity as one more intersecting factor within the realistic context of identities and oppressions/privileges, rather than taking the too-common easy way out of many fantasy books, where a magical/fantasy identity is a stand-in or metaphor for something like race or gender or disability, like a world in which society marginalizes and oppresses fairies just ignores anything else - usually a justification for “writing about racism” without actually....writing non-white characters.

A Chorus Rises deals with very real, significant issues, through a fantasy lens, without sacrificing that reality or significance - and does so via a protagonist who is absolutely a delight to read in all her snarky, confident glory.