I’ve been struggling for a couple of weeks to come up with words adequate to express my feelings about Holly Lisle’s first foray into young adult literature, The Ruby Key. The more time passes, and the more I consider the story, the more I appreciate it. It’s a book refreshingly simple but of great depth, in which many elements are comfortably familiar, but never predictable; you always feel a surprise is just around the corner.

In the world of The Ruby Key, humans must do their work during the daytime, from sunrise to sunset, for the dark is the domain of the nightlings, and there is a covenant in place to keep that law. Gemma, a human, and her brother Dan enter the forest in secret at night, to gather the magical sap of a taandu tree in the hopes that it will cure their mother of a sickness that is spreading over their village (the symptoms of which resemble senility or mental illness). On their covert night-time foray into the woods—the realm of the nightlings—they are met by Yarri, a nightling slave, who tells them that “Uncle” Banris, the man who seeks their mother’s hand in marriage, has broken a deal with the nightling kai-lord, and that’s why so many villagers are sick and dying: he promised human slaves, daylight taandu sap and purple dye in exchange for immortality and the power to rule, and failed to deliver. Now the kai-lord is meting out his punishment on the villagers.

Gemma goes to the kai-lord in order to present a new deal to him. In exchange for Yarri’s help, Yarri tells her she must ask the kai-lord for one thing in addition to the safety of her village and her mother’s life: The Ruby Key. Gemma doesn’t know what this is, but when she asks for it, the kai-lord is angered and makes an almost impossible request: She must find a child named Doyati who frequents the moonroads, dangerous and magical roads that might send a traveller anywhere.

It doesn’t take long for Gemma to realize her efforts to bring Doyati back are hopeless. The reader senses it too. And yet Gemma keeps moving forward, knowing that she must, even if there’s no chance for her at all. There is never a moment in The Ruby Key when you feel certain that everything—or anything—will turn out in the heroes’ favour. But at the same time, you sense that in a world like this, anything can happen, and the mysterious cat and the moonroads add to that feeling of unexpected danger and kindle the hope of a sudden turn for the better (it’s a page-turner for sure). This book has a depth to it that I have rarely experienced in young adult books; this fantasy setting is touched by real-world troubles though the problems themselves are as foreign as faerie. Do we help strangers even when it costs us dearly? Do we keep pressing on when we know it’s right, even if we know we’ll fail?

There are ghostly armies, a talking cat (who is certainly more than a cat), roads of light that lead to deadly wastelands, hints at a secret history, and monsters both ugly and beautiful. The story itself is simple, and takes place on a rather small, closed stage compared to much Fantasy literature. In the end, that stage opens up into the wide world, and a new reality opens up for the characters that they had never dreamed, one that echoes events in our own world and yet is still wholly “other”.

This book is the first of a series, and I’m waiting for the next book, The Silver Door, with an anticipation I haven’t felt since I finished the first Harry Potter. The Ruby Key resonated with me on a deeper level than many other YA series I’ve tried in years. I sense the start of a great series here!