The Riddle (Pellinor Series #2)

by Alison Croggon

Overview

"Epic fantasy in the Tolkien tradition, with a strong girl hero who is entirely believable in her struggles. . . . I couldn't put it down!" — Tamora Pierce, author of the Protector of the Small and the Circle Opens quartets

Maerad’s powers grow stronger by the day, but she and her mentor, Cadvan, are hunted by both the Light and the Dark, and their world threatens to erupt into chaos. Their quest to unravel the Riddle of the Treesong leads Maerad over terrifying seas and glacial wilderness, into the grasp of the seductive Winterking and the prison of his icy realm.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780763694449
Publisher:	Candlewick Press
Publication date:	06/13/2017
Series:	Pellinor Series , #2
Edition description:	Reprint
Pages:	512
Product dimensions:	5.50(w) x 7.90(h) x 1.40(d)
Lexile:	920L (what's this?)
Age Range:	12 - 17 Years

About the Author

Alison Croggon is an award-winning poet whose work has been published around the globe. She started to write the books of Pellinor when her oldest son, Josh, began to read fantasy, and is currently working on the third and fourth books of the quartet. She lives in Australia.

Read an Excerpt

"I live," said Arkan with a peculiar arrogance as they walked. "And I do not die. The wind lives, the snow lives, the ice lives, the mountains live. Rick and ice have their own voices, their own lives, their own breath, their own pulse. Do you deny them that?"

"No," said Maerad, unable to conceal the sadness in her voice. "But I like flowers."

"I will make you flowers if you desire them."

"They would be flowers of ice. Beautiful, but cold. It wouldn't be the same. But thank you."

They walked in silence for a time through the endless, beautiful corridors, and despite herself Maerad found she was admiring the beauties of Arkan-da with different eyes. The design of the pillars had changed subtly, she thought; she saw flowers within them, all with six petals, but infinitely various and intricate. She was always conscious of the man pacing beside her, although she did not look at him.

"Why do you wish to please me?" she asked, breaking the silence. "You could just as easily cast me into some dark dungeon. What difference would it make to you?"

"It is better if you do not hate or fear me," said Arkan. "Song cannot be made out of hatred and fear. That is what Sharma failed to understand."

"What is needed to make Song, then?"

Arkan turned and looked her full in the face, and Maerad's heart skipped a beat. "Do you not know?" he asked.

Maerad looked down at the floor and watched her feet. She did not want to answer.

________

Editorial Reviews

"I live," said Arkan with a peculiar arrogance as they walked. "And I do not die. The wind lives, the snow lives, the ice lives, the mountains live. Rick and ice have their own voices, their own lives, their own breath, their own pulse. Do you deny them that?"

"No," said Maerad, unable to conceal the sadness in her voice. "But I like flowers."

"I will make you flowers if you desire them."

"They would be flowers of ice. Beautiful, but cold. It wouldn't be the same. But thank you."

They walked in silence for a time through the endless, beautiful corridors, and despite herself Maerad found she was admiring the beauties of Arkan-da with different eyes. The design of the pillars had changed subtly, she thought; she saw flowers within them, all with six petals, but infinitely various and intricate. She was always conscious of the man pacing beside her, although she did not look at him.

"Why do you wish to please me?" she asked, breaking the silence. "You could just as easily cast me into some dark dungeon. What difference would it make to you?"

"It is better if you do not hate or fear me," said Arkan. "Song cannot be made out of hatred and fear. That is what Sharma failed to understand."

"What is needed to make Song, then?"

Arkan turned and looked her full in the face, and Maerad's heart skipped a beat. "Do you not know?" he asked.

Maerad looked down at the floor and watched her feet. She did not want to answer.
_________

THE RIDDLE by Alison Croggon. Copyright (c) 2006 by Alison Croggon. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA.

From the Publisher

Maerad's tale continues, luminous, desperate and bold. She and Cadvan run from the corrupted Light and the ominous Dark, staying with friends and beginning Maerad's formal schooling but dashing off when pursuit gets close. They head north, seeking the obscure Treesong, which holds the mystical answer to a riddle they don't understand. Maerad may hold answers in herself as well, but cryptically. Her full self has three layers: Maerad, former slave and current Bard; Elednor, foretold to confront the black chaos threatening her continent; and something deeper and more powerful, an Elidhu (elemental, possibly pre-mythic) being. Her magery skills are crucial to the quest but not strong enough to elide the Elidhu Stormking, who sends stormdogs, ice creatures, landslides and thugs to kill her protectors and kidnap Maerad. Trapped in the Stormking's seductive castle by both ensorcelment and confusion, Maerad struggles alone to decipher riddles and choose her next step. Croggon's world is rich and passionate, brimming with archetypal motifs but freshly splendorous in its own right. Supremely satisfying. (pronunciation key, rune key, maps, appendices) (Fantasy. YA)

Kirkus Reviews