The Wistful Voyage
The tower stood. It had stood for a hundred years. It would stand for a hundred more. Leo looked up. He was twelve. His shoes were muddy. "Is it magic?" he asked. Old Man Silas shook his head. Silas was the castle’s keeper. He wore a coat that smelled of damp wool and old paper. "No," Silas said. "It is stone. Stone does not care if you are a king or a rat." Leo frowned. He did not want stone....
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