The Chosen who arrive in the Suths' paradise are terrifyingly impersonal figures, from Lord Imago Jaspar to Lord Aurum, a creature who seems to feel nothing but arrogance and anger. The reason they have come is for Sardian to officiate over the choosing of a new Emperor; before they can return, they need food and repairs made to their ship. And here is where Carnelian's helplessness as a character is made clear: when the Chosen order Sardian to strip his island of supplies for their long journey back, effectively leaving the servants behind to starve, Carnelian comes upon a group of sailors boiling the native birds' bones for glue. Their carcasses are piled up to rot, a scene of obscene waste. Yet does Carnelian get members of his household to grab the meat and cache it, perhaps even store it in seawater? No, he sulks and pities his soon-to-be dead domestics.

Pinto narrates the sea journey and the vast lands of the Chosen in illuminating detail. From the labyrinthine trail the Chosen take to get to the capital to the dizzying rituals the Chosen must perform to remain ritualistically pure, Pinto's powers of description are awe-inspiring, breathing life into what could have been a flat, roleplay-like scenario. ("So we have this huge city, right, with really high walls and these freakish-looking soldiers . . .") The conflict between Sardian, Aurum, and the malevolent figure of the Empress Ykoriana is revealed in bits and pieces, a tale of jealousy and young love. Sardian, accustomed to the treacheries of Chosen interaction, tries his best to shield his naive young son from the predatory nature of his peers (although he fails to save a member of his household from Aurum's insulted sensibilities, and Carnelian nearly loses a half-brother in the same way). But he is attacked near the journey's end, and Carnelian is on his own as his father is brought inside the city to recuperate.

The main conflict in The Chosen is the Imperial succession. In Osrakum, the emperor is a god, or rather, Gods, thought to embody twin deities in one mortal body. The Emperors are chosen by election, and this Emperor has twin sons who are vying for his throne. The dying Emperor has Suth Sardian on his side, but the Empress Ykoriana--who arranged for Sardian's exile--has most of his legitimate family and other powerful supporters on hers. Failure will mean death and ruin for Sardian and, possibly, his son. So what does Carnelian do while his father lies ill? If you said, "He tries to take his father's place and learn how to maneuver in the court," you are an optimist.

No, what Carnelian does is to wander through the courts, indulge his curiosity, and make one blunder after the other thanks to his naivete. And in doing so he meets a stranger named Osidian, a member of the Imperial House of the Masks who is not what he seems nor merely what he claims to be.

I hate to be so negative in reviewing a story that captivated me from the first page. In its defense, I will say that The Chosen is a fine work of fantasy, vividly written and imagined. There are moments of cruelty that will make you gasp, and scenes of beauty you will treasure. Pinto is a fine artist and his world is a fascinating place to visit. But Suth Carnelian is not a protagonist. He rarely acts. He reacts. And he waits for things to happen rather than trying to make them happen. He is the most helpless, and also the most stupid, central character I've come across in a well-written book.

The Chosen does have some errors of its own, namely in its perspectives, which tend to flip between characters. It's a little unnerving in a book whose plot is as tightly wound as The Chosen. Likewise, the dialogue sometimes sounds anachronistic, a little too modern to the ear. There are nice touches of poetry, however, and an account of how certain members of this society are created (be warned: it is not for the squeamish).