reactormag.com
Changing the World is a Group Project: E.K. Johnston’s Sky on Fire
Books
book reviews
Changing the World is a Group Project: E.K. Johnston’s Sky on Fire
Beautiful character work, lightness, precision… and hope.
By Molly Templeton
|
Published on August 20, 2025
Comment
0
Share New
Share
In 2021, a slim science fantasy called Aetherbound took me by surprise. I had only read one of E.K. Johnston’s previous books (her Ahsoka, which was just what I needed after finishing Star Wars Rebels), but the premise caught my eye. Mages and space empires and maybe also smuggling and rebellion? I’m in.
What I didn’t expect was for Aetherbound to also be a character study, a novel about a girl reinventing herself after growing up in a spacefaring family that literally and emotionally barely gave her enough to live. Pendt Harland went into the world knowing what she’d learned from reading (a lot) and what she’d learned from her family (that she was worthless). And she figured out much better ways to live in the bigger, wilder world—both on her own, and thanks to the people she met there.
Her book ended with a tiny note about another young woman, Morgan Enni. For years it didn’t seem like Morgan’s story was going to make it to bookshelves. At long last, it has, and it’s both an excellent continuation of the story of Aetherbound, and something quite different, too.
Morgan is not like Pendt. When she was small, Morgan was sent to live with her loving aunt on bustling Katla Station. Morgan has no magic. Where Pendt loves cheese, and people, and doing everything she can for Brannick Station, Morgan is intense about her work and her privacy and could probably happily go days without speaking to another soul. But both are young women whose lives could easily have turned out completely differently—young women who specifically, purposefully, make choices to be something other than what their upbringing taught them to be. The Aether Saga is a series about space magic and scrappy rebellions, yes, but it’s also a series about compassion, kindness, risk, trust, and learning when and how to let the world change your mind—and then, maybe, to change the world.
Morgan Enni has a pretty solid theory about the massive disaster that coincided with the end of the Stavenger Empire. The problem is, no one wants to hear it. Big scary things that may or may not happen in the future—near or distant—are, well, unpopular. (Nothing we can relate to in this day and age, right?) Her university has turned down her requests for research funding. Morgan lives her work; she is beyond organized, keeping her life small and compact, spending time only with her aunt. (She knows people, sort of, like her friendly neighborhood food vendor. But she doesn’t spend time with anyone.) She’s precise, she likes what she likes, and she moves through the world in a way that’s odd to some people. It all makes sense to her.
So when her research proposal is suddenly approved and she heads out on a ship full of strangers, it’s a bit of a shake-up, both professionally and personally. Johnston pays as much attention to how Morgan finds her way among the crew of the Marquis as she does to how Morgan’s research goes, because the process of Morgan coming to better understand people leads directly into the major choices she eventually makes.
Buy the Book
Sky on Fire
E.K. Johnston
Buy Book
Sky on Fire
E.K. Johnston
Buy this book from:
AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget
In Aetherbound, runaway Pendt fell straight into the orbit of Ned and Fisher Brannick, two young men running Brannick Station because they had no choice: Each station has to have a member of its ruling family on board at all times, or the whole thing shuts down. This is the Stavenger legacy—and what’s more, the station requires a family member with a Y chromosome, and the Hegemony (what’s left of the Stavengers) takes another family member hostage.
Pendt is a gene-mage, able to understand and alter biological processes at a deep level, and she ended the first book by changing Brannick Station’s gene-lock. But she always had bigger aims: She wants to break the gene-locks altogether. In order to do that, she needs an empty station to practice on, so no lives are at risk. And Enragon Station—which died when the gene-locks were implemented, because no member of the family was on it—is out there, empty.
It’s clear why the Brannicks want Morgan: Her research relates to their aims, and she’s so good at research, she might be able to help them find an Enragon heir who can wake up the station. It is less clear to Morgan whether she wants to be wanted by these idealists and their rebel friends. Smashing the gene-locks of all the stations would go a long way to breaking the power of the Hegemony, but Morgan isn’t sure it’s worth the risk (to her, and to her family) if she gets involved at all.
It just takes some time for all of these characters to understand each other—and that’s one of the great joys of this book. Morgan is a cat. She’s particular, she’s unpracticed at people-ing, she likes her privacy and her space, and she needs time to process. In many ways she’s the opposite of the rash, headstrong, feisty, almost aggressively brave YA heroine that was so common for a time. She doesn’t really want to be a rebel. But this rebellion needs her.
One of Johnston’s great strengths as a writer is, I think, her interest in how people are and can be kind. There is nothing twee about this; being kind, doing good, these aren’t always easy things, especially in a world that doesn’t value them. There’s a moment in her novel The Afterward that I think about all the time—a gift of freedom, given to a virtual stranger, by a man who knew he wouldn’t live to see the result. Sometimes doing the right thing makes so much sense that it seems easy. But that doesn’t mean it is.
In Sky on Fire, people are kind to Morgan, in gentle, measured ways that she can understand. It’s clear that Morgan has to adjust to having people around her, but the grace of this book is that people adjust to her, too. That kindness changes Morgan. When Pendt gets back on a spaceship for the first time since escaping her family, it is not without attendant trauma. The Morgan at the beginning of this book might not have known what to do to help. The Morgan who grows into herself over the course of Sky on Fire at least tries. She even discovers the appeal of sharing her personal space.
All around and through all her beautiful character work, Johnston builds a rebellion (the power-driven Hegemony is mostly off page, but there’s enough that you understand what people need to rebel against). It’s small and it’s scrappy, but it has committed fighters, powerful mages, and, in Morgan, a brilliant scientist who can help it prepare for something no one else wants to admit is coming. Like Aetherbound, this novel has an Arthurian streak (Morgan’s name is no accident—first or last) wide enough to delight those who notice it, and yet if you don’t notice it, I don’t think you’ll miss anything. (It’s really, really delightful, though.)
Johnston writes with lightness and precision; there is always just exactly the right amount of detail, whether about how a space station works or how a scrappy group of rebels find exactly the scientist they need. The balance of plot and character feeds entirely into the theme that makes me love these books so much: the idea that changing the world isn’t just a matter of who a person is and what they do, but also about who they meet, and how they change as a result. (Not for the first time, I’m thinking about how her work has this in common with Becky Chambers.) The pragmatism of Johnson’s worldbuilding—nothing here is easy unless a lot of work went into making it seem that way—is matched, beautifully, by the generosity her characters show to one another. There is so much power in making space for how another person moves through the world—or in letting new people unlock something in you. You never know what might come of it.
There is one thing about this book that I absolutely did not expect, and that has to be addressed in this review. To my astonishment, Sky on Fire is dedicated to me and Liz Bourke, “who never gave up hope.” (And also Chappell Roan. I cannot say I ever thought I would be named on the same page as Chappell Roan.)
A funny thing about the modern internet is that you can know things about people without knowing them. I don’t know E.K. Johnston, except for the occasional friendly social media exchange. We’ve never met. But I loved Aetherbound, and I said so. So did Liz. I reviewed it; she wrote about it in her column. We talked about it on social media platforms that are now dead or not worth visiting. I felt a little self-conscious sometimes about how much I wanted to shove that book into people’s hands, but when you love a book, you want people to join you in reading it.
On Bluesky, Johnston explained the dedication, writing, “it felt like every time I was ready to give up, one of them posted.”
The Aether Saga is about a lot of things, and one of them is hope: Hope that something better is out there; hope that you can make the world better for the people you love; hope that, despite everyone telling you no, you can do something to avert disaster, to help people prepare, to help them through the things they won’t even accept are happening. It’s the kind of hope that takes a lot of work, and risk, and, okay, yes, also a lot of cheese, sometimes. (Space magic takes calories! This is both practical and a much better deal than “magic comes from pain.”)
It can be hard, these days, to remember that hope matters, whether you are hoping for something small or something world-changing. It is beyond meaningful to be reminded in this way that it does.[end-mark]
Sky on Fire is published by Dutton Books for Young Readers.
The post Changing the World is a Group Project: E.K. Johnston’s <i>Sky on Fire</i> appeared first on Reactor.