Malarkoi by Alex Pheby (Malarkoi, £17.99)
Mordew, the first volume in the trilogy, was hugely praised, and this sequel is eagerly awaited. It is certainly as unusual and ambitious an epic fantasy as its predecessor, but the narrative has shattered into multiple storylines from multiple viewpoints, and none (apart from the talking dog) is quite as engaging or compelling as the original protagonist. It can be a struggle to keep up with all the characters, their alliances, enemies and progress (a common issue with lengthy fantasy series); and despite leavenings of dark humour, the situations are grotesque and unrelentingly grim, creating the sense of being trapped in a nightmare. This is a world where magic works because it is fuelled by sacrifice, so demigods and magicians maintain their power with casual mass slaughter. Pheby is an undoubted original, turning the standard tropes of modern fantasy into something much weirder and more disturbing, but this is not a book fans would wish to live in.

Beyond the Burn Line by Paul McAuley (Beyond the Burn Line, £22)
In the far distant future, hundreds of thousands of years after the self-immolation of human civilisation, convergent evolution has given rise to a new intelligent species, with a culture that allows most of them to live in low-tech but comfortable harmony with their world. The first section of the novel feels rather like a Le Guinian fantasy as it focuses on Pilgrim Saltmire, a young scholar researching what are known as visitor sightings. The mysterious visitors are described as tall, slim, white-clad figures, and their visits are heralded by bright lights in the sky. Pilgrim has various adventures before he meets Foeless Landwalker, a ranting preacher who claims to be in regular communication with the visitors. At this point, the narrative takes an audacious, breathtaking leap into full-blooded science fiction. The second section, set a few decades after First Contact between natives and visitors, takes up the story from the viewpoint of one of the visitors. The book is an absolute delight: evocatively written, surprising, thought-provoking entertainment.

The Coral Bones by EJ Swift (The Coral Bones, £9.99)
The coral reefs are dying, and marine biologist Hana Ishikawa fears it is too late to halt this ecological catastrophe. Her story, set in the present, is one of three emotionally compelling narrative strands depicting connections between humans and the living seas off the coast of Australia. In 1839, 17-year-old Judith Holliman knows her fate is to be sent away to make a good marriage in England, but first she persuades her ship-captain father to take her on a voyage of exploration to the islands of the reef. In the 22nd century, mass extinctions and climate change have forced governments to impose strict limits on human habitations, with the aim of allowing natural rewilding to occur. Telma Velasco is sent by the Restoration Committee to investigate the reported sighting of a leafy seadragon in a remote bay where corals may be growing again. These three lives and times are woven together to create a thoughtful, immersive, very human story that speaks to current fears and hopes for our world.

Expect Me Tomorrow by Christopher Priest (Expect Me Tomorrow, £22)
The true story of “John Smith”, a conman who preyed on vulnerable women in Victorian England, forms the opening chapter of this unusual and compelling science fiction novel, although its significance to both the past and future narratives that make up the book only becomes clear near the end. One of two chief protagonists is Adler Beck, a 19th-century Norwegian glaciologist, occasionally unnerved by hearing a strange voice in his head, who has been gathering evidence that convinces him the world is on the brink of drastic climate change. The other is Chad Ramsey, living on the heat-stricken, crumbling south-east coast of England in 2050. He has never heard of Beck or his theories, and has no idea that he is connected to the long-dead scientist. After losing his job with the police, Chad is left with an experimental chip in his brain, and a DNA visualiser which could be useful for the family history research his brother has urged him to undertake. This is climate fiction with a twist; it features the brilliant concepts and literary sleights of hand we can expect from the author of The Prestige, but there’s also a warmth and emotional urgency that makes it one of his best for some time.

The Last Unicorn by Peter S Beagle (The Last Unicorn, £25)
First published in 1968, when fairytales aimed at adults were rare, this beloved classic, out of print for decades, has not lost its charm. It is poetic, funny, magical, heartbreaking, and the best novel ever written about a unicorn. This handsome new hardcover edition is introduced by Patrick Rothfuss.