The Entanglement of Rival Wizards is a heartwarming introduction to Sara Raasch’s Magic and Romance series and indeed to the author herself. The story follows snarky, impulsive Sebastian Walsh and witty, brooding Elethior Tourael, a pair of graduate students competing for the “Mageus” grant. Due to their overlapping research, the committee awards them a joint grant with their own lab. They’ll have to (temporarily) ice their hostilities to complete their degrees and (maybe) work some magic. Narrated from Sebastian’s first-person perspective, Raasch’s voice-heavy prose shines and provides both subtle worldbuilding and a respectful approach to sensitive topics, all—I should tell you—while being humorous.
Raasch succinctly establishes key details of Sebastian’s life through the character’s own commentary and punchy dialogue. There are multiformed protective runes in this world, for instance, which act as protective wards: “The protection ward currently keeping me out of the second-floor Conjuration Lab might as well have To Sebastian Walsh, With Love woven into the fabric of the barrier that glimmers an ethereal blue every time I try to break it” (p. 5). Later on, we discover Elethior has a “counterspell” rune tattoo. This is my first encounter with the concept of tattoos infused with magic, and Raasch balances her abundance of spellcraft and runes with “components” and consequence: “Magic tattoos supposedly hurt a helluva lot more than regular tattoos; bits of components are woven in with the ink and the whole process involves a constant, steady stream of magic imbued in the art” (p. 111). To even cast a spell, one needs materials and energy, which are here known as “components.”
Raasch also introduces us to Sebastian’s lifelong best friend, Orok. The two have charming and chuckle-worthy chemistry. While Sebastian attempts to break into the warded Conjuration department, they bounce off each other:
“You get one more shot,” Orok interrupts from where he leans against the wall behind me, “then I’m climbing the side of the building.”
“They’ll have wards on the windows, too.”
“Not ones this intense. They expect thieves to come through this way—”
“Thieves.” I snort derisively.
I can feel Orok’s eye roll as strongly as I can feel his next words coming, and I mouth along with him—
“And puny evocation wizards.”
Only I don’t add that descriptor, and I flip a glare back at him. “Puny?”
Orok eyes me head to toe, then holds his arms out in an unspoken comparison. (p. 6)
Raasch surprised me with a serious approach to codependent relationships. Camp Merethyl, a military school owned by the Tourael family, puts Sebastian and Orok through a grinder, and they trauma-bond to the point of inseparability. While there are jokes to ease the tension, Orok and Sebastian tell the reader their relationship is unhealthy. It stifles them, particularly Orok, who is offered a contract in “pro rawball,” Raasch’s magical equivalent of the NFL, but pushes it away from fear of losing Sebastian (p. 282). Orok had planned that Sebastian would relocate his nonprofit job to Los Angeles while Orok played rawball in Vegas, for sake of proximity; but only pages later, he settles on sliding a wedge between them, for mutual growth. “‘I’m going to Las Vegas,’ Orok says into my neck. ‘And I’m going to play pro rawball, and you’re going to stay here and change the world at Clawstar and be dopily, crazily in love with Thio. We’re going to be so happy, Seb’” (p. 285).
Raasch demonstrates equal respect for consent and boundaries. For example, after Elethior and Sebastian hook up, they establish ground rules. They won’t let it interfere with their work, they don’t play around in the lab, and, most critically, “If either of us decides we want to stop, we stop, no questions, amicably” (p. 150). Erotic scenes layer this novel, so Raasch incorporating a discussion on boundary-setting and verbal consent provides depth and realism to this blossoming situationship: Not forty pages later, Elethior rescinds the “don’t play around in the lab” rule, showing that particulars can change so long as both parties agree (p. 197). Raasch even has Sebastian address potentially ending the relationship amicably if it no longer works for one of them (p. 205).
Speaking of the couple, watching their emotional bond deepen is a delight. The reader’s first introduction to Elethior is as “the Conjuration Department’s golden boy” who Sebastian accuses of replacing the Evocation Department’s ash tree dew with ocean water (p. 9). This is the latest attack in a prank war between the two departments, and as Sebastian says, a line has been crossed, since this one damages the department’s research. The scene is heavy with Sebastian’s preconceptions of Elethior, assuming he’s the leader of Conjuration’s prank army, that he is an “elitist, trust-fund nepo [baby] who [rests] easy on beds of blood money” (p. 9). Raasch cements these preconceived enmities by having Elethior insult Sebastian four hours later at a party: He doesn’t think Sebastian broke the department’s protective wards because “you’re not good enough to have broken my ward, like you’re not good enough to win that grant tomorrow. Are you, sweetheart?” (p. 22).
This general antipathy continues, as is necessary for a rivals-to-lovers narrative, but in a minor detail Raasch hints at a revelation to come: Elethior’s abstinence in their prank war. After Elethior and Sebastian’s first kiss, Sebastian grows avoidant and Orok takes him clubbing. Two characters nicknamed Blue Hair and Human offer Sebastian a drink. Despite Sebastian’s refusals, they’re intent on forcing him to imbibe. Elethior intercedes, making Blue Hair—Aqeanoe—drink instead. Aqeanoe’s skin turns striped purple and gold, and Elethior gets the pranksters kicked out for spiking a beverage. It’s a skillful utilization of foreshadowing and an excellent tactic to get readers on Elethior’s side.
In this way, Raasch masterfully places foreshadowing throughout the narrative. Sebastian, fearing he won’t receive the Mageus Grant, refuses the idea of turning to his father for funding. Later, Raasch reveals Sebastian’s father doesn’t believe he was part of an abusive “fifth level” of magic training at Camp Merethyl. The Walsh family has been part of Merethyl for generations; if there was a fifth level, they would know about it. Likewise, Sebastian’s tension with his father is a consistent but infrequent occurrence in the narrative: The reader believes Sebastian, and Elethior endears himself to us by believing his partner’s accusations.
Elethior knows exactly what his family is capable of and has his own gripes with them: Namely, the pressure they applied to Elethior’s mother to put her in a care facility. Worse, the Touraels blame the accident that led to his mother’s sickness on her and Elethior not being “real” Touraels. Elethior’s cousin, whom he meets regularly to update her on his project’s progress, “said the same shit she’s been saying for too long. That the reason my mom had her accident … and the reason she had so many failures in her career was because she isn’t a real Tourael. And if I leave, I’ll end up just like her. I’ll waste away in obscurity because I have nothing substantial to contribute to this world” (p. 275). This verbal abuse pales in comparison to how they threaten Elethior into compliance: While his mother gained a settlement from the accident, the Touraels have been paying for her care, since the settlement was exhausted long ago. If Elethior fails in his project, they will pull the plug on his mother’s support.
These are a few of the most vital beats in Raasch’s exploration of boundaries and agency, and there are many more. With that frequent foreshadowing, the respectful approach she takes to sensitive topics, and the way she melds healing and romance, I am beyond pleased that I read this novel; if I outlined every stellar moment we’d be here for hours. I look forward to the second novel in the series, which will follow Orok into a PR-only relationship to drum up good press, akin to the fake friendship in Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue (2019) between Alex and Henry that eventually develops into a romance. In Raasch’s case, the addition of the recent subgenre of sports romance into her fantasy world offers a new, refreshing spin on this recurring trope.