PRINCESS ACADEMY

There are many pleasures to this satisfying tale: a precise lyricism to the language (“The world was as dark as eyes closed” or “Miri’s laugh is a tune you love to whistle”) and a rhythm to the story that takes its tropes from many places, but its heart from ours. Miri is very small; her father has never let her work in the linder stone quarries where her village makes its living and she fears that it’s because she lacks something. However, she’s rounded up, with the other handful of girls ages 12 to 17, to be taught and trained when it’s foreseen that the prince’s bride will come from their own Mount Eskel. Olana, their teacher, is pinched and cruel, but Miri and the others take to their studies, for it opens the world beyond the linder quarries to them. Miri seeks other learning as well, including the mindspeech that ties her to her people, and seems to work through the linder stone itself. There’s a lot about girls in groups, both kind and cutting; a sweet boy; the warmth of friends, fathers and sisters; and the possibility of being chosen by a prince one barely knows. The climax involving evil brigands is a bit forced, but everything else is an unalloyed joy. (Fantasy. 9-14)