THE WITCH IN THE TOWER

Feeling excluded by her friends, a melancholy youngster sets out on a walk in search of solitude—and finds herself along the way.

Happening upon a lone tower, Carmela becomes bewitched by its denizen, a heavily mascaraed hag with a propensity for mind-reading and a welcome tinged with menace. As the pair busy themselves brewing an elixir meant to heal Carmela’s heartbreak, the girl hesitates. This recipe feels familiar. A grand tour of the tower’s turret, too, inspires a sense of possibility. By the time the duo open their doors to a coven of similarly kooky misfits, it’s wildly apparent that this space—be it physical, spiritual, or something else entirely—is where she belongs…and where she can create space for others, too. With the second installment in her Three Sisters trilogy, Sardà has struck gold. Both narrative and aesthetic ooze style, coolly occupying the intersection between cautionary folktale and coming-of-age fantasy epic. And while the story underscores just how powerful individuality can be when it’s made inclusive, Sardà reserves swaths of space for interpretation: What is imagined? What is reality? And does the difference matter? Readers will benefit from keeping a dictionary handy, since lofty vocabulary words appear throughout. The breathtaking beauty of Sardà’s illustrations, too, defy description—at once psychedelic, eerie, and Miyazaki-esque in their enchanting detail, they demand poring over. The result is singular, not merely a modern classic but one for the ages. Carmela and the witch are light-skinned.

Utterly spellbinding.