“Between Two Fires”: Horror, Plague, and the Apocalypse in Buehlman’s Dark Fantasy

Between Two Fires isn’t just a story, it’s a plunge into medieval horror so deeply immersive, so chillingly vivid, that you’ll feel the grime of the plague-ravaged 14th century settling under your skin. Christopher Buehlman crafts a world where Heaven and Hell clash openly on Earth, leaving humanity caught in the blood-soaked crossfire. Imagine a journey through a landscape that seems to breathe malice, where every village hides fresh nightmares, every character harbors dark secrets, and the line between salvation and damnation blurs more with each passing page. If you think you’ve read horror, think again—Buehlman’s vision is nothing short of apocalyptic.

At the center of this dark pilgrimage is Thomas, a disgraced knight, whose only companions are his haunted past and Delphine, a young girl who might just carry the last spark of hope in a world swallowed by darkness. Thomas is no shining hero; he’s flawed, burdened by sins that weigh heavy on his heart. But he’s also fiercely loyal and strangely compassionate, traits that keep him pressing forward as the world around him collapses into chaos. Delphine is his opposite: enigmatic yet pure, with a wisdom beyond her years that suggests she knows far more about the battles at hand than she lets on. Their bond—an unlikely partnership formed in the crucible of unspeakable horrors—grows as they move through a world where Heaven’s light barely reaches, and Hell’s shadows linger at every corner.

Buehlman’s prose is a marvel, mixing poetic beauty with sharp, brutal clarity. He writes of France as though he’s witnessed its desolation firsthand, from the empty villages haunted by silence to the grotesque sights of death and decay left in the wake of pestilence. Each sentence is crafted to draw you deeper into the hellscape, immersing you fully in a time when God’s favor felt as remote as the distant stars. There’s a theological richness here, an exploration of faith tested to its absolute limits. This is horror that doesn’t just scare; it forces you to grapple with questions of redemption, purpose, and the very nature of good and evil.

The angels in Buehlman’s universe are not benevolent guardians; they are ancient, inscrutable beings whose gaze sees beyond the petty struggles of mortal lives. Their presence brings an unnerving reminder that in the cosmic order, humanity is but a flickering flame in a tempest:

“The angel said nothing, only watched him with the dark and measuring eyes of something that had witnessed the first dawn and expected to witness the last.”

Now, Chris my man, we need to talk about this #WTF moment — one of many — of a strange, abandoned village where the townspeople are locked in a bizarre, haunting rhythm. Thomas and Delphine arrive, expecting another empty settlement, only to find villagers standing in place, their bodies performing mechanical actions as though trapped in some ghastly loop. A woman rocks an empty cradle, her arms moving back and forth as though cradling an invisible child. A blacksmith raises his hammer repeatedly, but never brings it down. Children play a game of silent tag, their eyes vacant, mouths set in expressions of fixed horror. It’s as though each of them is bound to a single moment in time, repeating actions over and over, locked in eternal despair. It’s eerie, it’s heartbreaking, and it’s one of those passages that I find replaying in my mind long after I’ve finished the book.

In moments like these, Buehlman shows us that true horror isn’t in monsters or gore—it’s in the quiet, endless suffering of lost souls.

Between Two Fires isn’t just a horror novel; it’s an unflinching descent into the darkest reaches of the medieval soul, a tale that unsettles and enthralls, forcing readers to confront the horrifyingly thin line between divine grace and infernal ruin. Buehlman’s prose is mesmerizing, pulling you into a world where Heaven and Hell seem to be on equal footing, and humanity is caught in between. This is a must-read for anyone who craves horror that does more than scare—it challenges your beliefs and leaves a mark on your soul.

But as you turn the last page and think you’re safe, Buehlman whispers a final, chilling question into the darkness: When Heaven and Hell collide, what becomes of those left behind? The answer, perhaps, is waiting in the shadows. And if you’re ready to walk those paths again, his other works—like The Lesser Dead, with its brutal take on vampires, or Those Across the River, a haunting Southern Gothic masterpiece—might just be the next step. But beware: Buehlman’s worlds have a habit of keeping you longer than you’d like.

After all, once you enter, you may not come out the same—if you come out at all.

Now go after it! Keep questioning, keep exploring, keep reading!