If Jenny Waynest’s steadiness and grit drew you in—the way she shoulders the Winterlands’ hardships, stands toe-to-toe with court mage Zyerne, and chooses her path even when power tempts—then you’ll love Sorcha. In Daughter of the Forest, Sorcha endures a brutal curse and a hostile court with the same kind of inward steel Jenny shows when facing Morkeleb the Black and the treacheries of court life. It’s a story where competence, courage, and compassion—not flashy spells—carry the day.

If you were captivated by Jenny’s private battles—the lure of inhuman power when she brushes minds with Morkeleb, the strain that puts on her bond with John Aversin, and her sharp, self-questioning insight—McKillip’s The Forgotten Beasts of Eld hits the same nerve. Sybel, a reclusive mage, must decide what kind of person she will be once power and vengeance are within reach, much as Jenny weighs what her magic should make of her. It’s lyrical, piercing, and emotionally exact.

If you liked how Dragonsbane keeps its lens intimate—Jenny, John, and Gareth navigating a handful of perilous rooms, courts, and caves rather than an endless map—The Tombs of Atuan offers that same close-quarters intensity. Tenar’s world is narrow, ritual-bound, and shadowed, and the stakes feel as personal as when Jenny moves from the Winterlands to the king’s court to the dragon’s lair. Every choice echoes, just as Jenny’s does when she defies Zyerne.

If the undefined edges of magic in Dragonsbane appealed—the way Jenny’s witchcraft is more craft and intuition than rules, the mind-bending contact with Morkeleb, and the uncanny feel of Zyerne’s sorcery—then The Riddle-Master of Hed will feel like home. Morgon’s world runs on riddles, omens, and names, with power that’s potent precisely because it isn’t pinned down by a system. It has that same shimmering sense that wonder and danger are inseparable.

If the seasoned partnership between Jenny and John—full of history, tenderness, and stress from dragon wounds and court politics—hooked you, Paladin of Souls offers a similarly grown-up heart. Ista’s journey tangles divine magic, assassins, and siegecraft with a late-blooming romance that feels as earned and nuanced as Jenny and John’s bond after Gareth drags them south and Zyerne upends their lives. It’s adventurous, wry, and deeply human.