As many fantasy novels have documented, being a princess is no guarantee of perfect happiness in life. Quite the contrary: most seem to suffer from a spate of tyrannical fathers, odious suitors, dastardly wizards and unpleasant (step)sisters, all of it topped off with rounds of mind-numbing embroidery. What distinguishes Beth Hilgartner's Princess Kaela from hoards of other 16-year-old, rebellious, runaway princesses is the quality and quantity of the stories she tells throughout the novel while fleeing from her oppressive father.

Storytelling is Kaela's gift -- not a magical, convenient one like telekinesis or shapeshifting, but one that, like Scheherazade's, allows her to save her own life and freedom in a dangerous situation. With her story, she also rescues a young minstrel named Kippen, gaining a travel companion and ally against the unscrupulous wizard sent to fetch her home. Escaping to the neighboring country of Cymyl, she poses as a simple storyteller, captivating a diverse audience with her magical tales.

But they are not just stories. More personal than Scheherazade's, Kaela's stories, while entertaining and well told, are also thoughtful explorations and subtle refractions of her own preoccupations. The relationship between the frame story and its embedded stories is intriguingly complex. Cruel kings, corrupt wizards and jealous lovers parade through her stories in an increasingly close relationship to her external reality. Kaela's final, most personal tale, "A Necklace of Fallen Stars," can only be ended by the actions of the two people involved in telling and listening to the story.

All of the stories are unique in tone, intent and subject matter and are compulsively readable in themselves and as reflections of Kaela's tale. "Bottled Palindrome" is a humorous, rather Lloyd Alexander-esque story in which an evil wizard intent upon capturing a boy named Muffum for a special spell is faced with a mysterious and crabby cat that may (or may not) be more than it seems. "The Knave & the Player," told to Kippen, the robber baron's court and his beautiful daughter Alyi, is a slightly edgy romance that has considerable bearing on Kaela's relationship to Kippen. More solemn is "The Colors of the Wind," a contemplation on the consequences of intolerance and misunderstanding that just skirts the annoyance of outright didacticism.

Unfortunately, the frame story just isn't quite as good as the stories that comment upon and engage with it. Perhaps the consequence of devoting so much of the book to these stories is that the characters, relationships and actions in the frame story sometimes feel rushed and incompletely explored. A number of repentances and rescues pivotal to the admittedly slight plot come a bit too easily. And while it is refreshing to have characters who are neither wholly good or bad, few of these many characters are actually thoroughly developed. Some, like the sharp-tongued Lord Talmot and the robber baron's daughter, are little more than potentially interesting sketches. Kippen himself is so disappointingly bland as the love interest that I preferred the livelier romance in "The Knave & the Player."

Like the strand of pitted and misshapen fallen stars that features in the last of Kaela's stories, Hilgartner's little-known fantasy is unusual, memorable and quite unique -- yet not entirely satisfying. But Hilgartner's wry, fluid prose should appeal to fans of Lloyd Alexander and Elizabeth Marie Pope, and her subject matter is perfect for all fairy tale aficionados. A Necklace of Fallen Stars, despite its imperfections, remains an extremely intelligent and thought provoking novel that, in its quiet wisdom and layered complexity, provides a perfect antidote to more conventional blockbuster fantasies.