Cairo. The late 18th century. Nahri, a young girl who makes a living by swindling people and using her healing abilities, is struggling to make ends meet despite this combination. She doesn’t even believe in magic. Then, by accident, she summons a djinn! Of course, the djinn is furious. To calm him down, Nahri must accompany him to the City of Brass. The City of Brass is hidden in the middle of the desert, completely camouflaged—good luck finding it, even with Google Maps.
Nahri and Dara (the djinn) head eastward, bickering along the way. They quarrel, make up, and repeatedly sabotage their own journey—Nahri is particularly adept at this. They also face numerous threats trying to devour them. This adventure is framed by Eastern mythology and folklore, offering an unusual flavor to readers accustomed to Western-style fantasy. However, some creatures from Arabic lore appear almost laughably fairy-tale-like, such as the twelve-eyed, gluttonous giant pigeon (imagine how much stew you could make from that!).
Fairy-tale elements are fine within their own context, like in the Arabian Nights, but it’s disappointing when a story that starts as a fantasy devolves into a children’s tale. This uncomfortable feeling is compounded when characters magically conjure food and drink out of thin air, like in Harry Potter, including quality alcohol that they then get drunk on. Such things can make a story feel increasingly cheesy. S. A. Chakraborty’s City of Brass is no exception.