Beneath Ceaseless Skies #458, May 28, 2026
“The Voice and Her Knife” by AnaMaria Curtis
“Boxwood” by M.E. Bronstein
Reviewed by Seraph
“The Voice and Her Knife” by AnaMaria Curtis
Power fantasies and revenge fantasies are nothing new, often overlap/simply contain both elements, and are increasingly common in contemporary fiction. Usually there is a notable effort, misplaced as it is, to make fairly horrific acts somehow more palatable by adding “complexity” to an otherwise irredeemable character. I admire how this story skips all of that. It not only lets the horror bleed through, but truly gives a whole new angle to it being more “palatable.” The Voice, you see, is very convincing, but has delicate culinary needs. So when she is sent as an ambassador to an enemy nation who does not eat meat at all, her inability to derive strength from anything but meat poses a bit of an issue, personally and culturally. Thus enters her Knife, a butcher who excels at finesse and delicate bladework, capable of presenting the raw meat she needs in beautiful and infinitely varying finely sliced works of edible art. When she is captured and her husband murdered, only her Knife can rescue her. Who, or what, does this mysterious woman truly love? Who, or what, is even capable of giving it to this woman who is accustomed to absolute power and dominance over everyone she encounters? Look, the story is crafted really well, and it stops short of ever going into any of the really gory details… without sparing the imagination of exactly what is occurring. Moreso, I appreciate that it dispenses with all the justifications, the trying to humanize someone who is capable of (and has fully done) horrific things. The Voice is unrepentant, both reveling in the power her sadism gives her and immediately wreaking vengeance upon those who subject her to even just the mere fear of the very things she inflicts. (They took away her power, you see, and this is unforgivable.)
All of which I can appreciate… both the visceral conveyance in the reading experience, and the sense of the writer’s clearly considerable skill in crafting this tale. It is nothing other than personal overload with the fascination regarding people doing terrible things, as of late, that turns me off from it. This very evil is abundant across the width and breadth of the world every day, and I am too familiar with its consequences on real human beings to find any real power in the telling of the power fantasy. Other readers may have differing degrees of reactions to the material, so I can only say that for me, I genuinely admire the craftsmanship of the writing, and that I would not choose to read it again.
“Boxwood” by M.E. Bronstein
Guibert is an artisan, intricately working the wood in ways such that it comes alive out of the corner of your eyes, or when you are just in the process of looking away. So well made, in fact, that they never need replacing… much to the chagrin of Bonne’s father, who arranges her marriage to Guibert in order to secure their mutual business interests. The daughter was easy to trade away, but if the beautiful carvings never need to be replaced, then customers never return to pay more, you see. If that seems harsh or horrible, settle in because that’s just setting the stage. Guibert is increasingly… consumed by his work. Bonne is fascinated by it, but he pays little to no attention to her, or much of anything else, in his pursuit of his artistry. When those who have bought his work begin to suffer mysterious illnesses, begin seeing things that surely can’t be real, it is written off as the ailments of the elderly. When they die, it is simply old age. What else could it be? But when one of his pieces of carved wooden art bites Bonne, well… things get truly horrible. It starts slow, this creeping evil, always leaving room to rationalize the changes rather than face the horror that has taken root.
The burn is slow, painstakingly so, which really is the best possible way to handle this kind of corrupting evil. So the pacing is really well done in this story. It was hard to find much sympathy for any of the characters, but in such a bleak story that’s really not all that out of place. Overall it was a solid story.