The second tower was not on the map.
Not because Kwartsoog had forgotten it. He drew it three times. Each time it appeared slightly farther to the left the next morning.
In the end he wrote in the empty space:
SOMETHING STANDS HERE, EXCEPT WHEN YOU LOOK.
Tersake went to investigate.
The tower was narrower at the bottom than at the top, leaned slightly westward and had windows where no floor could exist. A huge magnifying glass stood on top.
It pointed at a post. Beside it sat a small bird. The glass looked straight past it.
At the entrance was one line:
Whoever enters here does not have to understand anything.
Tersake found that incomprehensible.
Inside, a perfectly ordinary stone lay on a table.
‘What am I supposed to see?’
‘I don't know,’ said the keeper.
‘Why is it here?’
‘Now you are looking.’
In a tiny crack grew moss, and in it a mushroom smaller than a comma.
On the upper floors a door lay flat against the ceiling and a staircase led to a window overlooking the room he had just left.
At the top Tersake looked through the glass. The post became enormous. The bird remained invisible.
‘Your instrument misses what matters.’
‘No. It leaves room for you to find it yourself.’
Only then did Tersake look beside the glass.
The bird took flight. No message from the future. No crown, key or administrative destination. Just two wings in the morning light.
Since then the Tower of Wonder appears only to people who are looking for something else.
Those who visit it deliberately usually find a post.
And sometimes, when nobody tries to understand why, a small bird sits beside it.