"One night...Otilla finally ran away." After trekking through the snowy forest, she knocks at the door of a large old house. A skull in the window says he'll let the girl in if she'll carry him: "Rolling around is difficult for me." "All right," Otilla agrees, and soon they are touring his home together. Otilla finds there's a lot she can do for the skull, who can no longer build a fire or make tea or reach the pears on the tree. (She kindly feeds him a bite of pear, which "went through him and fell onto the floor. 'Ah, delicious,' said the skull.") They dance together in the ballroom, and when the skull warns her of the headless skeleton that chases him every night, Otilla sets out to help her new friend, handily destroying the skeleton. In gratitude, the skull invites her to stay with him, and, of course, she accepts. Unflappable Otilla and the unfailingly polite skull make for odd but exemplary companions in this well-paced tale, told in five parts (with most split into three brief sections) and illustrated in classic, deadpan Klassen style with speckled art that's both mesmerizing and dryly hilarious. The dark tones of the art are warmed by slants of peach-hued winter sunlight; like the scary-funny story, darkness and light work in tandem surprisingly well. An author's note expands on the background of this folktale retelling. (c) Copyright 2024. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

In his appended author's note, Klassen shares how he stumbled upon and reimagined the Tyrolean folktale that occupies this early chapter book's pages. He casts off the original's "Beauty and the Beast" glamour in favor of a gritty sort of moxie that results in a more rewarding friendship story. One night, young Otilla runs away from home and becomes lost in the snowy woods. Eventually, she comes upon a seemingly abandoned mansion, but when she knocks on its door, it is politely answered by a skull. Otilla takes this strangeness in stride as the skull gives her a tour of his home and invites her to stay the night, on the condition that she helps him escape the headless skeleton that tries to capture him each night. She agrees and boy does she deliver. Klassen's recognizable graphite-and-ink illustrations capture the haunting--yet somehow charming--atmosphere of the stark Austrian setting, where shadows loom, bones come to life, and apricot sunshine cuts through the gloom. The book itself is divided into three sections, where the text is kept short but printed large and the artwork takes center stage. Is the story creepy? You bet, but it's also weirdly sweet and characterized by agency, kindness, and choice. It won't be for all readers, but for those who thrill at peering into shadows, it will shine bright.HIGH-DEMAND BACKSTORY: With a Caldecott Medal, best-seller status, and a cult following to his name, Klassen's newest offering will be highly coveted.

This eerie reworking of a Tyrolean folktale by Caldecott Medalist Klassen opens as pale-skinned young Otilla, lost in a snowy forest after running away, stumbles upon a mansion inhabited by a talking skull. Somber, digitally finished graphite and ink artwork imbues the forest and the mansion with shadowy verticality. The skull greets Otilla from a window with an uncomfortable but dryly funny proposition: "I will come down and let you in, but only if you promise to carry me once I do. I am just a skull, and rolling around is difficult for me." Otilla agrees, and the skull shows her the abandoned home's rooms, its bottomless pit, and its tall tower. Confiding as they go, the skull eventually mentions the headless skeleton that pursues it each night. Otilla falls easily into a caretaking role as the two eat pears, dance, and bed down in relative safety. When the skeleton appears, Otilla moves with an imaginatively cold-blooded finality that reflects both characters' desire not to be pursued. Echoes of other forbidding fairy tales pervade this high-stakes telling, in which Otilla's primal bravery and sly wit result in an arc from flight to mutual reliance. An author's note concludes. Ages 6--9. Agent: Steve Malk, Writers House. (July)