Review - The Echo of Crows by Phil Rickman

The Echo of Crows (Merrily Watkins 18)

Phil Rickman
Corvus, 6 November 2025
Available as: HB, 309pp, audio, e   
Source: Bought
ISBN(HB/ PB): 9781786494627

It's generally acknowledged that there are more books out there than one can possibly read in a lifetime. As a reader, this might amount to a bit of a memento mori. My own attitude has evolved through a number of phases. As a very young reader, I wasn't aware that there was a body of books already written, and a cadre of authors writing more. I devoured what I wanted from the shelves, and didn't bother too much about where the supply came from. 

As I grew older (and, perhaps, once I had more money to spend) I became aware that some authors (PG Wodehouse, Charles Dickens) were dead and gone and there was a finite supply of their work (explaining the song and dance around unfinished and rediscovered works - Edwin Drood, or the half-finished Arthur Ransom story Coots in the North). I also became aware that others were still alive and writing and emitting the hardbacks I could now afford, generally at the rate of one per year, creating anticipated events in my reading calendar.

And then, inevitably, one of those authors would die, leading to a sort of reading bereavement, the encounter with the last novel. Another sort of momento mori. Reginald Hill. Terry Pratchett. Graham Joyce. Ursula K LeGuin. Christopher Priest. You'll have your own list. Most recently, for me, it was Phil Rickman. But in Rickman's case - and consonant with his having chronicled the uncanny, the liminal, the not-quite-dead - I became aware a couple of months back that there was another book by him out, and this made me so happy.

The Echo of Crows is, clearly, the last book featuring Merrily Watkins, exorcist to the Church of England diocese of Hereford, dweller on the Welsh/ English border (and on other borders, too). Merrily's drawn into strange events in Longtown, a remote village where, fifteen hundred years ago, a local king was murdered. Huw Owen believes that there's evil abroad in Longtown, and, truly, there has been a modern murder too which Frannie Bliss and his lover Annie are looking into. Jane gets involved too, in a sub-plot involving hangings and their legacy.

It's a satisfyingly convoluted story, as ever, with links picked out between historic evils and current day concerns (the housing shortage, offcomers buying up property, the drugs trade) and framed around the contemporary church's love-hate relationship with the "woo-woo". Huw's on the verge of quitting, Merrily, as ever, is aware of the ambivalence of smooth archdeacon Siân and of the diocesan authorities to her special calling - but also of the appeal, to modern seekers of something, well, a little more rooted, than traditional expressions of belief. 

Convoluted, as ever, and dark, as ever, but perhaps not quite as dark? This superb series has never flinched from darkness, but in this final part, the threat (there is a sense of threat) is perhaps less directly focussed on Merrily, something coming for her, as it is an outcropping, a problem in the field to be dealt with. That's a positive, I think, and a choice, not Rickman running out of steam, and the result is a sort of psychological space here that allows The Echo of Crows to draw together, to a degree, threads that have run through this series: Merrily's spiritual struggles, Lol's career, their ambiguous relationship but also Annie's relationship with her dead father, her and Frannie's future, and Jane and Eirion's on-off whatever-it-is. 

No, Jane hasn't saved Ledwardine from the developers (yet) or solved the mystery of its ancient roots, but some mystery is always necessary, don't you think? And, in the end, The Echo of Crows seems to be saying that there is always more light to be found here, and we should keep searching for that.

May Mr Rickman rest in peace, and rise in glory. Until then, his books are an excellent monument to him.

For more information about The Echo of Crows, see the publisher's website here.