The Casket of Time by Andri Snaer Magnason

Author:Andri Snaer Magnason
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: modern fairy tales, climate change, Icelandic fiction, best novels in translation, novels about climate change, fairy tales, ya sff, best ya sff, sleeping beauty, Icelandic novels for young adults, best ya sci fi, ecofiction, snow white, environment, environmentalism, world lit for kids, Icelandic novels, translated young adult novels, young adult fantasy, updated fairy tales, young adult novels in translation, eco fiction, young adult science fiction, best ya fantasy, scandinavian fiction, post-apocalyptic fiction
Publisher: Restless Books
Published: 2019-02-28T22:25:15+00:00

guileless as a lamb,

golden is her beauty—the whole world’s charm.”

Dimon raised his arms, and drapes opened to reveal the palace gardens, where trapeze artists danced, fire-eaters and clowns performed, and minstrels played and sang. Obsidiana tried to make contact with her father—there were questions burning on her lips—but the king couldn’t hear her over all the commotion. He just smiled and pointed at other drapes that were suddenly drawn apart, and a herd of giraffes ran through the gardens—yellow with spots and with long, graceful necks. They were like nothing she had ever seen before.

Her father laughed, and Gunnhild seemed proud. Obsidiana rubbed her eyes and studied her sisters; they were tall and beautiful and wore elegant dresses, and yet they looked vacant. A door opened, and a man entered wearing a strange hat and a golden robe embroidered with two closed eyes. The outfit was so absurd that she almost burst out laughing, but then she saw his expression; he was obviously not a court jester. The man approached her, kissed her hand and said, loud enough for all to hear:

“My name is Zee Urchin! I’m very pleased to meet you. I have observed you in your casket but never had the opportunity to touch you.” He began assiduously to stroke her hand; she tried to draw it back, but Urchin held tightly onto it. He raised it above her head and addressed the assembly: “I bring you the blessing of the Eternal Princess! Pangea has endured many trials over the last twenty years, but thanks to the princess the dynasty will reign forever. If you follow her guidance, she can ensure the gods’ eternal approval. She is the Falcon of Paradise, she is the Albino Flower. She has power over the seasons and over days and nights. Though she was born more than thirty-five years ago, she is still fourteen. She is living proof that even time has to bow to the might of King Dimon!”

Gunnhild smiled and clapped happily, as did the princesses. The assembly cheered. Gunnhild nudged Obsidiana, who curtsied. She couldn’t believe her own ears. Had she been in the casket for twenty years? Was she thirty-five? She looked at her father. Yes, he could easily be twenty years older than he had been the last time she saw him.

“You misunderstand,” Obsidiana whispered to her father. “I wasn’t with the gods!”

A group of monks walked briskly toward her with strange, dance-like steps. Their leader took her hand and conducted her through the castle to the balcony overlooking the square. A swirling mass of people surged forward in front of the castle, shouting, “LONG LIVE PRINCESS OBSIDIANA!” She gazed in amazement at the immense throng of flag-waving people; she had never seen anything like it. Scanning the crowd, she at last spotted a boy standing on a tall pillar and waving an orange flag. That looks like Anori, she thought, so she gave her very best smile and waved. The mob went crazy and the cheering became even louder.

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