Witchling Seven Salazar and friends Valley Pepperhorn and Thorn Laroux are back in the fifth and final volume of this fun and magical series. Here, they are trying to untangle an ancient prophecy that holds the clues to stopping the evil Ambert Lophiifor’s plan to take over the Twelve Towns. As they set off on their search, the dangers grow, and even those they trusted seem to turn against them.
Author Claribel Ortega has once again imagined an entertaining and fantastical setting that both evokes the world of She Who Must Not Be Named (young witches organized into houses) and goes beyond it in important and original ways, with a protagonist of color, a culture infused by Ortega’s Dominican heritage, a non-school setting, and a queer-normative world with several queer characters. (Spoilers follow for previous volumes.) Valley and Thorn have crushes on each other, two more minor girl characters are dating; two characters use they/them pronouns, and one has two moms. Ortega also weaves in a joyous scene celebrating found family.
Seven, for her part, is growing closer to the boy whom she had a crush on in previous volumes (although in an earlier one, there’s a hint that she has had crushes regardless of gender. I’m therefore tagging this volume as having a bi character, so readers can decide for themselves.) Importantly, too, a significant part of the plot revolves around her supporting Valley and Thorn’s relationship in ways that I won’t spoil.
Ambert, as before, may remind readers of a certain contemporary real-life politician, manipulating votes, suppressing the free press, banning (in this case, literally burning) books, and creating a cult of followers. He and his supporters “had created a monstruo and positioned themselves as the only witches capable of stopping it,” we read, which feels like a clear echo of a claim from the 2016 Republican convention that “I alone can save us.” Ambert is not a carbon copy of his real-life counterpart (Ortega is too creative for that), but they are obviously of a similar mindset—and that’s what makes the witchlings’ fight feel so cathartic.
Themes of power, privilege, and social justice permeate this volume as they have the others; this one also leans into ideas about the power of friendship, combining different strengths within a team, constructive anger, and admitting you need help.
My criticisms are small. Some of the action sequences feel confusing at times, and some tightening of the prose might have made them punchier. One secondary character from a previous volume is mentioned with no reminder of who he is. At another point, Seven watches one opponent run off, “never to be seen again,” when she could really have no idea (in a scene very much in the present moment) whether he would reappear.
Still, the characters remain as vivid as ever, and this recommended book does a good job of wrapping up their journeys while filling the tale with all of the humor, heart, and imagination we’ve come to expect. Fans should feel satisfied even as they mourn the end of the series. (Readers who haven’t yet met Seven and her pals are advised to start with the first volume.)
