Snow Like Ashes

The world-building in this book is fascinating. At first, it seems like yet another YA novel about displaced royals trying to win back their kingdom, but this royal is in much more dire straits than most. Meira is a refugee living on the run with seven others, one of them her rightful King. All the rest of their people have been enslaved by the conquering country, and their kingdom's link to the magic inherent in the land has been broken.

A little backdrop is needed. In Meira's land, there are eight countries. The Rhythm countries, where seasons proceed as normal, and the Seasons - 4 countries locked in one season each. The rulers of each country have a magic conduit that lets them feed magic to their people - but the conduits are gender-locked. In four of the countries, only women can use the conduit; in the other four, only men. Meira and her little band are all that's left of the free people of Winter. Spring invaded sixteen years ago, killed Winter's queen, broke the locket that was their magic conduit (each ruler has one) and enslaved their people. Because the queen only had a son, he can't wield Winter's magic anyway. They're still trying to find the two pieces of the locket so when he has a daughter, she can wield it. You'd think at this point, since he's of age, he should be trying to get as many women pregnant as possible to up the odds of getting a royal heir who can wield the magic, but that...doesn't come up.

The book does delve into the country's people being oppressed, used as slaves, and being incredibly abused by the conquering country, and this is where I ran into a quandary. The Season's people reflect their countries: Autumn's people have copper skin, Spring's citizens are blond-haired and green-eyed - and Winter's people are white. Pale skin, snow-white hair, blue eyes. Writing white people as the oppressed people just rubs me the wrong way. (In that false “help I'm being oppressed because other people want equal rights!” kind of way.) Yes, this is fantasy, yes, it has nothing to do with our world's politics - but it bothers me. It's at least not white-savioring, as Meira's trying to save her own people, but I don't know. Is it better or worse to write white people as the oppressed protagonists?

That question aside, this was a well-written novel of fighting against an oppressor. There is definitely still work to be done at the end of the book, and there are two more books, as well as two short stories. While I am a little curious what ultimately happens, I don't know if the series has earned more time on my reading list.

You can find all my reviews at Goddess in the Stacks.