The Snow Queen (Tales of the Five Hundred Kingdoms, Book 4) (Hardcover)

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Product Description

Aleksia, Queen of the Northern Lights, is mysterious, beautiful and widely known to have a heart of ice. No one would seek her wisdom except as a last resort. But when she's falsely accused of unleashing evil on nearby villages, she realizes there's an impostor out there far more heartless than she could ever be.

And when a young warrior following the Tradition disappears, leaving his sweetheart and mother to fear the worst, Aleksia's powers are needed as never before.

Now, on a journey through a realm of perpetual winter, it will take all her skills, a mother's faith and a little magic to face down an enemy more formidable than any she has ever known.…

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

"You're not like any fairy godmother i ever heard of," young Kay said, sullenly, his voice echoing in the enormous, and otherwise empty, throne room. He broke the silence and in doing so, created a reminder of how empty the room was. If Kay had taken the time to think—which he did not, because at the moment, the only thing he ever thought about was himself—he might have wondered why such a room existed here in the Palace of Ever-Winter at all. Aleksia did not hold audiences, nor have a Court. So far as he knew, there were only two living things in this palace: himself and her. So why would she need a huge throne room? Why would she need a throne room at all?

Such thoughts had not once crossed his self-involved mind; at least, not yet.

He did not shout; he was not the type to shout, and certainly there was no need in a room so quiet that even the faintest movement sounded as loud as a deliberate footfall. But his voice, midway between a tenor and a bass, was layered with frustration and anger, and had the distinct edge of a whine to it. It grated on Aleksia's nerves. Kay grated on Aleksia's nerves.

The throne room was austere magnificence itself, as was all of the Palace. Walls that perfectly imitated snow were, in fact, the most pristine of white quartz. Floors that looked like clouded ice were marble. It was an enormous space, exactly like the interior of a pure-white egg. It was full of light, and when she was not keeping the temperature artificially low for the "benefit" of her "guests," it was warm and welcoming.

There were benches all around the circumference, also white, also of marble. Normally, they were softened with cushions of the palest blue velvet, but of course not when Kay was around. It was her intention to keep Kay as physically uncomfortable as possible while creating an illusion of comfort.

It was hard to ignore him; his presence itself would have shouted, even if he had not spoken at all. His black-velvet clothing and sable furs made an inky intrusion in the otherwise pure-white room—a very solid and substantial blot in the midst of light.

Black did not suit him, not even the lush black of velvet and fur that looked so soft it made the hand yearn to touch it; the lack of color, and the contrast of the very pure white of the surroundings, brought out the sallow tones of his skin, and made him look as if he had been sculpted out of raw piecrust. He was the one who insisted on wearing black, though. Presumably, he thought it made him look serious and to be reckoned with. He probably thought it made him look older. Most of her visitors did the same; it was as if there was a kind of unacknowledged uniform for the nonconformist.

She shifted a little, a very little, in her throne. The heavy, buttery silk of her gown, impregnated with warming spells, moved with her, sliding like cream over her arm. She did not immediately reply, letting the silence speak for her and make him uneasy.

Since Aleksia did not need to look at his expression to read his mood, she did not turn her attention away from the five-foot-tall mirror that she was watching with all the intensity of a hawk at a quivering bush hiding a rabbit.

The mirror was an incredible piece of work, both in terms of its craftsmanship and in what it was made of. This was a single f lat sheet of ice nearly two inches thick, as clear as a pane of glass except when she wanted it to become ref lective. It was held by a four-inch-thick, cloud-colored frame that was also made of ice, severe and plain, the surface so smooth that it seemed to def lect the curious finger. At the moment, the mirror was, indeed, ref lecting something, but the ref lection was not of herself, nor of Kay, but of another scene entirely. In the crystalline depths of the mirror, a tired-looking young girl was plodding through a forest.

She was, perhaps, sixteen or seventeen—a woman grown by most standards, though not by Aleksia's. She was blond and blue-eyed, with long golden plaits wrapped over her head like a kind of crown and just showing under the rabbit-fur cap. Her face was round, but not dumpy; she had a sweet expression, a pert nose and a mouth of the sort that made young men want to kiss it—full-lipped and soft and inviting. She was dressed as the more prosperous sort of village-dweller would dress, in a sturdy woolen dirndl in a cheerful red, that belled out around her ankles, a little white apron that had never seen the inside of a kitchen, a matching cloak in a darker red with a hood that could be pulled over the cap. On her feet were stout leather boots, also red, lined with rabbit fur, and mittens that matched her cap. Nothing more could be seen of her clothing beneath the cloak, but it could reasonably be assumed it was of equally good quality. She was burdened with a pack and used a polished wooden staff to help her along the path. And she looked entirely out of place there. It did not seem possible that such a person could be found in the middle of a forest; she belonged in a village square, buying embroidery yarn and gossiping with friends. Her cheeks should have been pink with exertion, but they were pale. Her eyes scanned the forest nervously, and her face showed her fear all too clearly.

The forest through which she was trudging was not the sort inclined to raise the spirits. "Gloomy" was probably the most f lattering thing that could be said about it. There was no undergrowth, for the trees that crowded each other on either side of the dirt road blocked out the sun. Those trees were, for the most part, black pine, whose dark branches dripped water and occasionally sap, and dropped needles that carpeted the f loor of the forest. Overhead, their branches formed a canopy so thick that not even a scrap of sky was visible. If there were birds, they were high up in the boughs and certainly not visible from the girl's point of view. There were no animals in sight, but one could easily imagine wolves or Bears lurking in the distance, suitably obscured by the closely crowded tree trunks. Even on the hottest of Summer days, this forest would be dank and chill. Now, in the Autumn, with sunset drawing near, it would be bitter under those trees. And it would be so damp that the cold would penetrate even the warmest of cloaks. Small wonder she was bundled up as she was.

There was no sound, though Aleksia could easily have it if she chose. Right now, though, she knew that all she would hear was oppressive silence, overlaid perhaps with the dripping of water onto a thick layer of dead needles, and the girl's soft footsteps, and perhaps the far-off call of a crow or some other bird of ill-omen. Hardly worth the trouble.

Kay, of course, could see none of this. All he saw was Aleksia staring into a mirror that cast no ref lection. And ignoring him. He did not in the least appreciate being treated in this way. Aleksia caught his ref lection off the ice. The corners of his mouth turned down farther, his eyes narrowed and a crease appeared between his brows. And then he spoiled it all, as his lower lip began to protrude in the start of a pout. For all that he allegedly wanted to be left alone, he hated being ignored. But then, Aleksia knew very well what was actually going on in her guest's mind.

"And you, of course, have such a vast experience of Fairy Godmothers," Aleksia finally answered him, in a voice that dripped with sarcasm the way that the trees in her mirror dripped moisture. Her voice rang crisp in the empty chamber—utterly calm, and maddening. At least, she hoped it was maddening. She shifted again, this time for the little pleasure of feeling the silk of her gown slip across her body.

Kay started at the sound of her voice, then glowered. He hated having his "authority" challenged even more than he disliked being ignored. Aleksia would have found it more amusing had she not played this same sort of scene over and over again with other guests in the past and would play it with still more in the future. Still. It was potentially as funny as watching an ill-tempered rabbit challenge a warhorse.

And that was a dangerous stance to take in the hall of one who could have sent him outside to be eaten by an ice-drake by merely snapping her fingers, but he was very young and utterly convinced of his own intelligence, knowledge and immortality. "I—" he began.

"Most of your sentences begin with I, and you might find it more profitable to find some other way to begin them," Aleksia continued, still not turning from the mirror. She wished that the next act of the drama she was watching would hurry up. She was regretting deciding to allow Kay to find her today—but this was the only mirror powerful enough to let her see all she needed to, from so far away, and she hated asking the Brownies to move it. "No one cares about you. You are an unlicked cub, a mere youth, barely out of childhood." She had been longing to say this for days; she might as well do so now. She began to warm to her subject and chose her words with care. "You have no experience worth hearing about, no store of wisdom from reading or studying with wiser men and your personality is repellant. There was but one person who loved you, and you persisted in thrusting her away. Instead, you wanted to be left alone to concentrate on your work.You were, in fact, injudicious enough to wish for just that out loud." She saw him start again, out of the corner of her eye. "So. I have given you that, on condition that you devote yourself to your work and make me wonders. There is a library here. There is a workshop.You only have but to say that you want something, and it appears. Go and make use of these resources, for which older and wiser men than you have pined and languished. And when you find something or make something you think might be worthy of my attention, you may bring it to me, provided I am not otherwise occupied, and provided you begin your sentence with some other word than I."

Ref lected in the surface of the ice, Kay looked utterly, utterly shocked. No one had ever spoken to him like that before. He had been rather...

Product Details

• Hardcover: 336 pages
• Publisher: Luna (June 1, 2008)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 037380265X
• ISBN-13: 978-0373802654
• Product Dimensions: 9.4 x 6.5 x 1.3 inches
• Shipping Weight: 1.3 pounds (View shipping rates and policies)
• Average Customer Review: 3.7 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (23 customer reviews)
• Amazon.com Sales Rank: #373,851 in Books (See Bestsellers in Books)

• This is item 4 in The Tales of the Five Hundred Kingdoms Series.

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

25 of 25 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Darker and more Mature, June 2, 2008

By	Shelley R Powers "shelleyp" (St. Louis, MO) - See all my reviews

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Mercedes Lackey's fourth book in the Five Hundred Kingdom series follows the same formula as the other books--fairy tales do come true, as the good strive to protect the innocent from The Tradition--but manages to create its own, unique read.

This is the story of the Snow Queen, which is, itself, one of the more mature, somber fairy tales. However, unlike the original tale, this Snow Queen is one of the good people, a Godmother. Or is she?

Lacking some of the light banter of the previous books, as well as the romance, the Snow Queen is also less predictable. You more or less know what to expect from the previous Five Hundred Kingdom books (which doesn't impact on the enjoyment of the books). However, with the Snow Queen, you really are guessing until the end.

What I particularly like about all of the Five Hundred Kingdom series is that there are so many fairy tales and legends from different cultures and countries that Mercedes Lackey will never lack for raw material. However, it's also important that the books not fall into a rut of "sameness" with each volume, and thankfully, Snow Queen assures us this is not going to happen.

This is a book I can easily recommend, especially since I paid less by buying it for my Kindle than I would purchasing the book as hard cover -- and without having to wait for the paperback. Thank you Amazon and Luna/Harlequin.

10 of 10 people found the following review helpful:

3.0 out of 5 stars somewhat disappointing, August 7, 2008

By	K. Chipman "frostandut" (LAYTON, UT United States) - See all my reviews (REAL NAME)

The Show Queen is not up to Ms. Lackey's usual level. This book qualifies as a light, entertaining read that goes well with its publishing as a Luna romance, but her previous Tales of the Five Hundred Kingdoms were more engaging. I liked that she did not have explicit sex in this novel, which means I won't have to hide it from my kids, but the romantic relationships lacked the attraction, tension, longing, and the sizzle that make her books enjoyable. Also, the only character development I noticed was in the spoiled children learning their lessons and Ilmari learning to appreciate someone his own age. I don't expect depth from a romance novel, but it would be nice to see some reason for attraction between the mature protagonists besides the usual "she's beautiful, smart and brave" meets "he's strong-bodied and brave, yet willing to learn from her superior female viewpoint." (Quotes are my indication of a cliche, not actual quotes from the book.)

The most annoying thing was the poor editing. There are some glaring problems with internal consistency and continuity. As just one example, Ilmari is described in Chapter 4 as having "gray in his hair and beard," but in Chapter 14 "his hair was not yet graying." There are many others, and they were distracting and annoying.

The first and second books in this series were well-written (for the genre) and engaging. The third was cute enough and was interesting for expanding into Russian folklore. This fourth book feels like a draft, not a finished novel. There are some fun passages in here, and it does have the feel-good, "this is how it should be" ending that she referred to in her Author Note, so I won't give up on the series yet. Here's to hoping she returns to her usual level and gets better editing.

6 of 6 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars Much Better than 'One Good Knight.', June 10, 2008

By	A. R. Newson (AL, U.S.) - See all my reviews

On par with the first and third volumes. My one quibble would be that Harlequin/Luna needs to hire a decent proof-reader. As in 'The Fairy Godmother,' there are goofs where characters are referred to by the wrong name entirely, with the addition of a continuity error or two. Engaging story, great concept, but mistakes like that tend to be jarring and diminish my enjoyment of the book.