Although he considers himself a smooth criminal operator, I think it’s fair to say that Lumsden Moss has no idea what the hell he’s doing in Necessary Monsters, by Richard A. Kirk. At first, Moss is only involved in a little identity theft and a little vengeful larceny. Then his plans almost immediately go wrong and he finds out that there are much bigger fish in his pond than he realized. His little schemes are derailed when one of those bigger fish tells Moss that he has to find a women he thought had died many years ago. If he doesn’t find her, they will kill Moss. If he does find her, Moss will probably be killed anyway. Moss has been in tight spots before, but this one looks impossible to get out of.
Necessary Monsters is a modern-ish fantasy—so I wasn’t subjected to long journeys on horseback, stews, halflings, or lots of armor. I liked the odd world Kirk created for this novel; I actually wish that there had been a bit more world-building in Necessary Monsters. Like Moss, I had no idea what the stakes were nor did I understand the motivations of some of the weirder and sinister characters. Moss doesn’t ask very many probing questions, unfortunately for curious readers like me.
Moss’ mission in Necessary Monsters is to a) find an old friend who he thought had died decades ago in order to get a major criminal organization of his back (and possible dodge death) and b) to get his criminal ventures back on track. Moss has few allies in this. There’s his old friend, Irridis, who has even bigger fish than Moss has to fry. There’s also Imogene, who betrays the same criminal organization that’s after Moss in order to break free of it herself.
This much I understood. What I didn’t really understand was what kicked everything off in the first place. The prologue to Necessary Monsters and some clues dropped in the narrative hint at a huge, magical/historical conflict that is going on behind the scenes. This is what I wanted to know more about but, instead of world-building or filling in the blanks, we’re treated to a shoe-horned-in romantic subplot, Moss’ teenager-like moodiness, and a lot of flailing around as the protagonists try not to get killed.
Necessary Monsters, as far as I’m concerned, is a book with interesting possibilities that got derailed by some amateurish pacing and character development.