Ondvinter (“Evilwinter”) is a most rare thing. Good contemporary Swedish fiction is hard enough to find; good Swedish fantasy – like Ondvinter – is almost never seen.

Sunia and Wulf are twins in their early teens, living with their father at a small farm some way off from the village. They’re a bit different from the other families, true, but they’ve never given it much thought. Then their father comes home from the woods one day, fatally wounded. He dies in a fever. Strange creatures turn up around their farm, and soon the two children have to flee for their lives.

They discover they’re of the Blood, whatever that means, and find an ally in the Lady of the Mountain, whoever she may be. They find out all sorts of unexpected things about themselves and their father. Events unfold around them that they’re somehow involved in, but don’t understand at all to begin with.

“Country boy/girl discovers that s/he is more than s/he thought” is nothing new, of course, but done well it can still feel all fresh. And the world in this book, and its creatures, are refreshingly non-clichéd. There’s a distinct Nordic feel to them, without falling back on the tired tropes of Norse mythology. It also feels very Nordic to have the incarnation of evil be an endless, all-consuming winter! The landscapes that Wulf and Sunia move around in are such as I can easily imagine finding somewhere in Sweden a few hundred years ago.

The language fits this all well: very Swedish, with slightly archaic phrases here and there, and a definite preference for words of Germanic origin.

This consistency of tone and mood – low-key and chilly – is a real strength for the book. The physical landscape, the events, the world, the language, all fit together. Never overwrought, and yet vibrant, varied and evocative. A joy to read.

Adlibris.