Not enough people in genre circles are speaking about this trilogy.

 That might be because not enough people have read the first two books, Mordew and Malarkoi. I could be wrong. Perhaps there’s a simmering fandom ready to explode with delight with the publication of Waterblack, the final book in the trilogy. I hope so. In a field that’s overflowing with epic fantasy trilogies (or extended series), the “Cities of the Weft” stands apart.

 I’m not so bold as to say that it’s unlike any fantasy series that’s come before it. Many authors, with Pratchett at the top of the pile, have sought to deconstruct Tolkien-flavoured fantasy. But with the “Cities of the Weft”, deconstruction and subversion is just one part of the game. Pheby’s interest also extends to complex metaphysical and epistemic themes about Godhood, the unending desire for absolute power, and the possibility of a meaningful life in an unstable Universe; one where reality can be broken, fragmented, and irrevocably changed with a click of the finger.

 And if all that is too Philosophy 101, the series also explores the nature of family, the one you are born into and the one you choose. It’s also a “coming-of-age” story (one not limited to a single character) and a journey of self-realisation.

 It’s an intellectual and emotional delight. You will be astounded by the outlandish ideas and the pyrotechnic set-pieces of Gods and Angels and Demons and Magical Dogs; a battle between the rational and irrational. You will gasp and cheer and cry. Or, at least, I did.

 I know how enthusiastic I can be, how I’m never short of a platitude. But I genuinely believe the “Cities of the Weft” is a masterpiece, a classic of the epic fantasy genre. Whether it’s viewed that way by others in the field is not for me to say—unlike the Weftling Tontine, I don’t have that sort of influence. But I hope you, at least, read it, and even if you don’t love the trilogy as much as I do, you’ll understand where I’m coming from.

 If you want more detail on what Waterblack is about and the hilarious way Pheby subverts the conventions of a final volume in a trilogy, you’ll have to read my review in Locus, which, like the novel, is out in February.