Extermination is a nasty business, especially in a city infested by pests that grow large enough to destroy a man. But for Guy Moulene, being an exterminator is the only logical choice in a city full of bad options. He is quite literally up to his shoulders in debt, his arms crisscrossed by tattoos that signify the various loans that circumscribe his life in the city of Tiliard. Guy’s fear is not that his loans might catch up to him, but that they might one day be passed on to his sister, whose arm is yet untouched by either rings of debt or tattoos of indenture to one of the many employers who control the lives of the poor. To keep her safe, Guy will take on any job, so he doesn’t question a request to hunt a centipede as large as a dragon and just as dangerous. What he doesn’t account for, however, is not just the peril of his job, but the way that an infested city can be changed by its pests.
The Works of Vermin is a twisted puzzle box of a book about family, revolution and creatures that go bump in the night. Author Hiron Ennes (Leech) keeps readers guessing about the relationship between the drama occurring among the elite on the surface of Tiliard and the saga of a few desperate exterminators in its depths. As Ennes pulls readers through these intertwining narratives, they respect their readers, expecting them to keep up with the dense, viscerally disturbing world of Tiliard and the layered motivations (and histories) of its denizens. There is no unnecessary exposition here, only deeply character-motivated story beats that cut as precisely as scalpels. The Works of Vermin is a mystery that only improves upon rereading. Lines that feel like simple set dressing at first glance come into stark relief as vital clues; simple gestures become sources of sorrow. Equal parts disturbing and moving, The Works of Vermin takes both Ennes’ world building and craft to the next level.
