Tess of the Road Introduces a New Heroine From the World of Seraphina

But there are also stories to be told about the remarkable girls who are left behind or overlooked, those from whom nobody expects heroics. And it’s one of those stories Hartman concerns herself with in Tess of the Road. Tess is set not just in Seraphina’s world but in her household: Tess is one of the half-dragon’s wholly human younger half-sisters. Tess is a prickly protagonist: headstrong, impetuous, well-intended but rarely well-behaved. She’s brash, vulnerable, alternately selfish and selfless, and, most of all, miserable. She has grown up in the shadow of her whip-smart half-sister, and suffers in comparisons with twin sister Jeanne, who’s wholesome, sweet, and altogether marriageable. The cruelty of a disappointed, overbearingly pious mother doesn’t help: Tess can neither abide the woman’s unforgiving code of conduct nor forgive herself for her own failings.
There are many strengths to Tess of the Road, and Hartman’s sensitive yet sharp examination of rape culture and victim-blaming is near the top of the list. Tess blames herself for a past trauma that destroyed both her faith in herself and her family’s plans for her future. She throws herself into acquiring a husband for Jeanne—now positioned, falsely, as the older and therefore more eligible twin, after Tess has squandered that part of her birthright. But after drunkenly sowing scandal at Jeanne’s wedding, Tess faces one of two futures: 1) acquiesce to being packed off to a convent by her parents, or 2) run away and take her chances on her own.

Donning the boots given to her by Seraphina and disguising herself as a boy, she sets off with only a vague destination in mind. As she walks the length of Goredd and into neighboring Ninys, Tess finds more than strangers. She’s accompanied by friends, too, most notably her childhood bestie, Pathka, a lizard-like Quigutl who turns Tess’s wanderings into a quest: to find one of the prophesied World Serpents. Both Pathka and Tess have invisible wounds inflicted by the cultures they refuse to conform to, and both are looking for something to heal those wounds. The miles they travel allow Tess to reflect on her past, her personality, her relative “goodness” or “badness,” and what life holds for her still.
The secrets she’s keeping locked up inside are as harmful as any dangers she finds on the road, and it takes a number of successes and, yes, a number of mistakes for her to realize that—and to realize self-forgiveness is a more important piece of redemption than the forgiveness of others. And that sometimes, the biggest, most monumental decision one can make is simply to walk on.
Tess of the Road is an adventure story, but one in which the derring-do is as much about emotional resilience as it is about feats of physical strength (though Tess has her fair share of those). It’s a love story, but one far more interested in self-love and the bonds of friendship than romance. Finally, Tess is a great story with a heroine who has to convince herself she’s not all bad. Like its main character, it’s a worthy follow-up to its famous siblings.