Ink in the Blood is an unexpectedly rich story about the magic power of art

Kim Smejkal’s Ink in the Blood is a truly original YA fantasy that explores issues of art and interpretation even as it builds a world of lush magic.

Kim Smejkal’s Ink in the Blood is a story of magic, yes. It follows the tale of two runaway Inklings, girls who possess the power to communicate via magical tattoos that they can send to the bodies of others. But it’s really a tale about art – what it is, who are the people that make it, and who decides what it means. It’s also a rich fantasy tale, complete with intricate religious systems, performance troupes and a Divine that often takes human form to walk the world.

Celia Sand and Anya Burtoni are Inklings. They serve the religion of Profeta, and their ability to draw magical tattoos means they’ve been chosen to communicate the will of the Divine to her people. Some wait their whole lives to receive a tattoo, or a sign of divine direction from the cosmos. But living as Inklings has made Celia and Anya into nonbelievers, who no longer trust that their gifts are inspired by anything other than paper pushing bureaucracy, another tool in a long-line of those wielded by the powerful priests, known as Misticos, to keep the population under control and doing their bidding.

Had Ink in the Blood just been a story of this section of Celia and Anya’s lives, it would have been fascinating in and of itself. Profeta is darkly dystopian and terrifying. Misticos occasionally go mad from their duties, humming and screaming and afflicted with something called the Touch, that drives everyone mad. Celia and Anya’s first mentor, Lupita, cut out her own eyes to escape the temple, and incoming classes of Inklings must take a final test in which they’re asked to prove their loyalties by killing their own families.

But the story goes well beyond that basic, if frightening, premise. It’s also a story about art and interpretation – about who gets to make art, who decides what it looks like, and who gets to choose what it means. And art, in this instance, goes well beyond tattoo drawings. When Celia and Anya escape the temple – a feat in and of itself – they wind up with an acting and performative art troupe known as the Rabble Mob. The group is made up, quite literally, of people of all shapes and sizes, who perform everything scenes from something known as the Commedia, a series of stories of the tragic figures and tropes popular throughout the kingdom. (There’s also fire eating, fortune tellers and stilt walkers – pretty much everything you’d expect from a carnival.)

Anya and Celia use their special abilities to send one another messages with ink to craft an act for the show, one that pushes the boundaries of fiction and reality, belief and false prophets. Their act questions many of the very ideas that hold up Profeta’s hierarchies – the sacredness of the ink, the infallibility of the Divine, the reality of her evil, dark-sided other half, known simply as Diavala. Entitled the Devil in the  Bell Jar, the performance becomes so popular for its thought-provoking disturbing scenes that the Rabble Mob becomes something of an overnight, national sensation.

And that’s when the trouble starts, because the Divine – or whatever you’d like to call her – doesn’t particularly like her tools being mocked, nor does she want to see the people dismantle the Mistico-run bureaucracy that shapes the future of kingdoms. Celia and Anya are playing with forces much more powerful than they are. But, as performers always say, the show must go on.

Ink in the Blood is a fast-paced, exciting narrative that’s full of surprises. But what will keep you truly glued to the story is the connections and relationships at its center. Anya and Celia’s friendship and their willingness to sacrifice anything and everything for one another is the emotional center of the novel. But the found family discover with the various interesting figures in the Mob are also rich and varied. From mother hen Kitty Kay, who transforms herself into a phoenix every night, to the enigmatic Griffin, who conjures fire and wears a plague doctor mask, all are willing to fight for one another, even against impossible odds.

Ink in the Blood is a story about many things: Belief, friendship, faith, control, suspicion and susceptibility. But, mostly, it’s a story about art. From the tiny flourishes Celia smuggles out in her “divine” drawings, to the tattoos she sends from the temple, to the magic the Mob creates on stage each night, this is a book about the power of art – and our reaction to it – to change the world, in ways both large and small. (Sometimes, a salamander is more than a salamander, when you need it to be.) And these days, it’s hard to think of a story that most of us need to hear more than that.

Ink in the Blood is available everywhere now.