Stephanie Garber’s Legendary is the rare sequel that doesn’t just match the magic of the first book—it amplifies it. If Caraval felt like being swept into a kaleidoscope of wonder, Legendary is like stepping into the heart of the kaleidoscope and realizing the colors have secrets of their own. Let me just start by saying: if Caraval was a gorgeous appetizer, Legendary is the decadent main course you didn’t even realize you were craving.
This time, the story shifts focus to Donatella Dragna—Tella, Scarlett’s impulsive, daring, and wonderfully reckless younger sister. While Scarlett’s journey in Caraval was about uncovering her own strength and truth, Tella’s journey is messier, more complex, and, honestly, even more enthralling. Tella’s voice is sharp, sassy, and full of bravado, but there’s also an aching vulnerability underneath it all. She’s a wild card, and Garber makes sure we feel every twist and turn of her choices.
And the plot? Oh, it’s intricate. Legendary plunges deeper into the lore of Caraval, peeling back layers and revealing the threads of a much grander story. This isn’t just a magical game anymore—it’s a high-stakes battle involving Fate Cards, cursed immortals, and the kind of secrets that could change everything. It’s as if Garber took the world she built in Caraval, gave it a sly smile, and said, “Let’s make things really interesting.”
What’s remarkable is how Garber’s writing remains just as enchanting as ever—if not more so. Her prose is like a spell in itself. Colors aren’t just colors; they’re emotions, moods, and memories. Shadows feel alive. Words whisper with mystery. It’s the kind of writing that makes you want to reread sentences just to soak in their beauty. How is she this talented? It feels unfair, honestly. Like, leave some magic for the rest of us, Stephanie!
The romance in Legendary is another highlight. Where Scarlett and Julian’s chemistry in Caraval was slow-burn and sweet, Tella’s dynamic with her love interest is fiery and tantalizing. (No spoilers, but oh my goodness, the tension. I was fanning myself at some points.) And Garber is a genius at writing those moments where a single glance or touch feels like it carries the weight of the world.
But it’s not just the romance or the worldbuilding that makes this sequel stand out—it’s how Legendary deepens the themes and characters introduced in Caraval. Tella isn’t just playing a game; she’s grappling with questions of fate, choice, and the cost of love and loyalty. And the stakes feel higher, more personal, and infinitely more dangerous. You can practically feel the story winding tighter and tighter, like a clock ticking toward something explosive.
Comparing it to Caraval, I’d say Legendary feels darker, more ambitious, and richer in scope. While Caraval was all about stepping into a magical world, Legendary pulls you into the heart of its mysteries and makes you question everything you thought you knew. It’s like going from watching a fireworks display to being inside the fireworks themselves.
And the ending? Let me just say: I screamed. Garber has mastered the art of the cliffhanger, and she leaves you absolutely desperate for the next book. (Honestly, Stephanie, how dare you toy with my emotions like this?)
In summary, Legendary isn’t just a continuation of the Caraval series—it’s an evolution. It raises the stakes, deepens the story, and solidifies Garber’s place as a master storyteller. If you thought Caraval was magical, buckle up—because Legendary takes the magic, cranks it up to eleven, and then adds a sprinkle of danger for good measure. It’s bold, beautiful, and utterly unforgettable.
Read it. Savor it. And then join the rest of us in agonizing anticipation for the finale.
