Margaret Killjoy’s “The Sapling Cage”

Epic fantasy as queer coming-of-age.

Cory Doctorow
4 min readSep 24, 2024
The Feminist Press cover for Margaret Killjoy’s ‘The Sapling Cage.’

TOMORROW (September 24th), I’ll be speaking in person at the Boston Public Library!

The Sapling Cage is the first book in Margaret Killjoy’s new “Daughters of the Empty Throne” trilogy: it’s a queer coming-of-age tale in the mode of epic fantasy, and it’s very good:

https://firestorm.coop/products/21646-the-sapling-cage.html

Lorel wants to be a witch, but that’s the very last of the adventurous trades to be strictly gender-segregated. Boys and girls alike run away to be knights, brigands and sailors, but only girls can become a witch. Indeed, Lorel’s best friend, Lane, is promised to the witches, having been born to a witch herself.

Lane doesn’t want to be a witch. She wants to be a knight. So she and Lorel swap places, so when the crones come to their little hamlet to collect the girl who was promised to her, it’s Lorel who steps forward, wearing the black dress Lane’s mother left behind. None of the townsfolk rate Lorel out to the witches, and just like that, she is on the march with the coven, a whelp — the lowest ranking inductee, aspiring to “apprentice” and then, “witch.”

What follows is, in some ways, a very expertly executed coming-of-age story. Lane is getting trained up with the coven, among a new cohort of whelps of varying degrees of friendliness and hostility. The world is a richly realized fantasy landscape of monsters and giants, magic and political intrigue.

Lorel has signed up for witching just as the land is turning against witches, thanks to a political plot by a scheming duchess who has scapegoated the witches as part of a plan to annex all the surrounding duchies, re-establishing the long-disintegrated kingdom with herself on the throne. To make things worse (for the witches, if not the duchess), there’s a plague of monsters on the land, and the forests are blighted with a magical curse that turns trees to unmelting ice. This all softens up the peasantfolk for anti-witch pogroms.

So Lorel has to learn witching, even as her coven is fighting both monsters and the duchess’s knights and the vigilante yokels who’ve been stirred up with anti-witch xenophobia.

This is a good, sturdy, serviceable plot, and in Killjoy’s hands, it is expertly handled. There are lots of reversals and double-crosses, brilliant fight scenes, all the things you could want in an epic fantasy. And of course, it’s a coming of age, with Lorel seeing the world and discovering who she is and brushing away the comforting half-truths and lies her elders have cocooned her in.

That’s where the fact that Lorel is trans comes in. Lorel is figuring out what that means, but she’s also very worried about discovery. After all, she’s entered the company of witches, the last all-female cohort in the land, and these are powerful women — what’s more, they’re anarchists, leaderless and fractious. Who knows what happens if Lorel gets discovered.

So you’ve got this incredibly well-turned fantasy/coming-of-age story going on, and Killjoy figures out how to work in this gender stuff not just as a way of doing “representation” or “queer joy” or any other value that’s orthogonal to the literary merits of this as an adventure tale. Nor does she simply integrate trans-ness as an unremarkable fact of life, another kind of statement (indeed, there’s plenty of queer characters in this story who are matter-of-fact in this manner).

No, Killjoy uses the special complications of coming-of-age while transitioning to heighten the stakes and thus fuel the suspense of the novel. In addition to all the normal merits of diverse characters, Killjoy is using gender issues to crank up the story, winding it up to a breakneck pace that makes the pages practically fly past.

Thematically, there’s a bunch of chewy stuff Killjoy does with the way that magic transforms bodies, making monsters out of witches who push their powers too hard. The story has all these changing bodies — children coming of age, Lorel coming out as transfemme, the transformation of magic-users into monsters. It’s just another layer of depth that supports a zippy, run-and-gun quest tale.

I’ve followed Killjoy’s work for more than a decade, ever since her days publishing the seminal zine Steampunk (motto: “Love the machine, hate the factory”):

https://firestorm.coop/products/2624-steampunk-magazine.html

Years later, I had the pleasure of instructing her at the Clarion West workshop. She’s published regularly all that time, and this is by far her most commercial — and, I think her best! — novel (to date).

Today, Tor Books publishes “Spill,” a new, free “Little Brother” novella about oil pipelines and indigenous landback!

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/24/daughters-of-the-empty-throne/#witchy

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