Witch Wood

Angus King’s performance is a masterclass in balancing gravitas and unease. His voice has the cadence of a 17th-century clergyman—measured, slightly nasal, and laced with the unshakable conviction of a man who believes in both God and the Devil equally. When he slips into the voice of the coven’s leader, a woman who speaks in riddles and half-remembered psalms, the shift is jarring in the best way; suddenly, the listener is hearing something ancient and untamed. The pacing, too, is flawless. Buchan’s prose can feel dense on the page, but King’s delivery keeps the momentum tight, even as the story meanders through theological debates and political intrigue. My only critique? The production occasionally places King’s voice a touch too close to the mic, making the quieter passages feel like they’re happening in your ear rather than around you—an odd choice for a story meant to feel like a folk horror nightmare. That said, the audio quality is crisp, and the lack of intrusive chapter breaks allows the dread to build organically. Standout moments arrive when King shifts into breathy whispers during the coven’s rituals, or when he delivers Sempill’s sermons with such fervor that you can practically smell the peat smoke in the kirk. The real triumph, though, is how Buchan and King refuse to give the listener easy answers. Is the forest’s evil supernatural or a man-made hysteria? Buchan leaves it deliciously ambiguous, and King’s performance ensures you’ll be pondering it long after the final chapter. If you’re after a gothic horror that’s as intellectually demanding as it is spine-tingling, this audiobook is a must-listen—just don’t expect any comforting resolutions.