If Damien Vryce’s uneasy bargains with Gerald Tarrant hooked you—the way the priest has to trust the Hunter after Ciani’s mind is ravaged—then you’ll love the ruthless calculus in The Blade Itself. Abercrombie throws you in with figures like Sand dan Glokta and Logen Ninefingers, where every alliance has teeth and every rescue has a bill. That same thrill of making deals in the dark to beat something worse pulses through every choice.

Drawn to the grim pilgrimage in Black Sun Rising—Damien’s vows strained beside Tarrant’s predation and the fae’s horrors? The Darkness That Comes Before meets you there. Achamian’s sorcery scars like the fae’s nightmares, Inrithi zealotry mirrors Damien’s convictions under siege, and every revelation hits with the same chill you felt crossing Tarrant’s Forest to face what mangled Ciani.

If the evolving understanding between Damien and Tarrant gripped you—the priest and the monster finding a principled truce after Ciani’s violation—then The Tombs of Atuan will resonate. Tenar, sworn to the Nameless Ones, must decide whether to trust Ged, the intruding wizard, in lightless tunnels where every word risks blasphemy. It’s that same slow, courageous shift from enmity to trust.

If you loved tracking the culprit behind Ciani’s memory-theft and the fae-twisted manifestations with Damien and Tarrant, City of Stairs scratches the same itch. Shara Komayd unravels a murder in Bulikov where dead gods still leave reality seams to pick at—miracles and lies layered like the fae’s deceptions. The clues are sharp, the revelations dangerous, and the stakes feel as intimate and vast.

If Tarrant’s predatory power and the cost of wielding it—those nights when the fae answers with blood—kept you riveted, The Black Company delivers that same chill. Croaker’s outfit navigates the Lady, the Taken, and shadowed spellcraft where every victory stains the soul, much like hiring the Hunter’s aid to face rakh and memory-devouring horrors. The magic is potent, brutal, and never free.