The fifth tower was not lost. It simply never understood why a tower should remain in one place.
On Monday it stood beside the Coffee House. On Tuesday at the edge of the meadow. On Wednesday it blocked a road Tersake considered useful.
‘You cannot stand here.’
By Thursday morning it had gone.
Kwartsoog tried to map it. Whenever his pencil touched paper, a foundation creaked behind him.
Inside, stairs changed direction as soon as someone asked where they led. The exit usually opened onto a door you had passed earlier.
At the top hung one notice:
YOU ARE NOT WRONG.
YOU ARE NOT THERE YET.
Those in a hurry wandered for hours. Those who sat down found the door in minutes.
The Wandering Tower guarded no destination. It guarded the right not to travel directly.
Only Bram claimed to know where it would stand next.
He said: ‘Quack.’
Kwartsoog could not argue with that.
You have nearly been there.
Kwartsoog saw you pass Tower V this morning. Or XI. The tower was changing its number and pretending to be an abandoned watermill.
Bram quacked left.
You went right.
Excellent.
There is no sign at the next crossroads. Be sure not to follow it. If your boots suddenly become dry, you have gone too far. When the path begins to remember where you walked yesterday, turn straight ahead.
The Wandering Tower is already holding its door open somewhere else.
Well wandered.