Impossible Creatures is the kind of book that reminds me why I fell in love with fantasy fiction as a child. 

All the ingredients are there: a rich, wondrously magical world; friendship and high stakes; an element of mystery as the grander plot is revealed; and, especially, the storytelling itself. 

There’s something about Katherine Rundell’s storytelling voice that is timeless and slightly addictive to read, like a Neil Gaiman, Philip Pullman or Ursula K Le Guin. Not only that, but I could feel her influences there on the page – there are the “impossible creatures” akin to some of the fantastic beasts in Harry Potter; the Archipelago, reminiscent of the world of Earthsea; and the vanishing glimourie, draining from the world as Dust was in His Dark Materials, with one girl whose destiny is to stop it.

There’s a lot packed into this “childrens” book (it appeals to any age, in my opinion). Let’s start with the world. The Archipelago is a “secret, unmapped cluster of islands where creatures of myth still live side by side with humans” – think unicorns, dragons, griffins and much more.  

I loved 'The Guardian's Bestiary' at the start of the book – an illustrated glossary of the different creatures, and the descriptions were a joy to read. For example, in the description of the creature called Lavellan, one line reads, "The lavellan has no interest in harming humans unless provoked, but its definition of 'provoked' is a broad one and can include sniffing, laughing and all forms of interpretive dance".

In the Archipelago, there is also glimourie – the first magic that stemmed from the earth’s first tree, which is found on one of the islands. The creatures and glimourie were once part of the rest of the world, but humans started trapping the creatures and using them for their own gain, causing them to die out (yes, part of this story is a cautionary tale).

Now, the characters. Christopher is a boy in the regular world who always had an affinity with animals. He is the grandson of the current guardian of the passage to the Archipelago, which he learns of when he rescues a baby griffin from the lake near his grandfather's house. Mal, who was caring for the griffin, is a girl from the islands with a flying coat, who has been tracking the dying soil of her home island's forest. Her story begins with a strange man trying to kill her, and she has no idea why.

Thrown together by chance, Christopher chooses to help Mal, following her into the Archipelago as they begin a quest to learn what rising evil is causing creatures to perish and the glimourie to fade.

It's a story that definitely warns against the dangers of climate change, but in a way that feels naturally part of the narrative, rather than forced. We see the world of the Archipelago through Christopher's eyes, who is experiencing it for the first time, and it's so beautiful and magical and wondrous that the chance of that world disappearing is made more tragic.

Many things felt familiar about this book – nostalgic, even – but although certain tropes played out, there was still enough of the unexpected that when the story came to a close, I was satisfied. I had laughed, cried (you'll know the moment when it happens), and felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and gratitude for having read it.

Looking for more fantasy childrens fiction? Read my post on His Dark Materials.