Fiendish by Brenna Yovanoff (review)

Ten years ago, the residents of New Bend, terrified by the hellish creatures emerging from the surrounding woods, burned the homes of those they thought were responsible; their victims, the craft folk of the Hollow, were left either dead or homeless—and the demon creatures disappeared. Seven-year-old Clementine was saved only because someone trapped her in a cellar, and there she stayed for a decade, kept alive in a trance by some powerful craft. When she’s finally freed, her return to town is greeted with suspicion, coinciding as it does with several sightings of ghastly creatures in the countryside. Even worse, Clementine’s presence heightens the power of the town’s remaining crafters—four teenagers who want nothing more than to keep their abilities under wraps. Yovanoff creates yet another beautiful but disturbing setting, with elegant prose describing the picturesque countryside in one paragraph and the gut-wrenching stench of hellhounds in the next; the insularity of the town and lack of sense of time or place adds to the unease. The teens at the center of the story are given distinct personalities that render them likable and sympathetic at times, and frustrating and suspicious at others. Their struggle—to come to terms with potentially destructive powers with no real tools to do so—looks an awful lot like the urge toward independence in adolescence, and the warnings, hostility, and threats from the adults around them underscore the fact that the grownups here aren’t necessarily afraid of the kids’ power, just the lack of adult control it represents.