The Wizard’s Tower.

There, clinging precariously to the side of the valley stood a tower. Well, stood is a loose term, it sort of didn’t fall even though it looked like it should have toppled into a heap of rubble years ago. Mismatched slates failed to slip from the roof, despite the angle at which they hung. A path wound between large boulders and straggly trees as if no-one had wanted to cut a proper road, or maybe the valley hadn’t wanted to harm any of the things living there. Either way it meant the walk to the tower was four times as long as it could have been.

But somehow you stayed on the path and didn’t even contemplate trying to clamber over the boulders or try to push through the branches.

It was in the tower, they said, in the valley. It won’t be guarded but it’s a bit of a walk. The door will be unlocked but careful it doesn’t swing shut on your fingers – the wood is old and has the weight of centuries in its grain. And the latch is a bit stiff.

The door creaks alarmingly as it’s pushed open. Sure enough, it’s very heavy and hits the inside wall with a thump and you’d expect a cloud of dust, right? No dust. Inside is gleaming clean with freshly swept tiled floors and polished marble walls. The windows are bright, flooding the space with sunlight and dreams.

Then there are the shelves.

Wall upon wall, row on row of sturdy wooden shelves all laden with books.

There are worlds, dreams, spaceships, vampires and so much more hidden within this Wizard’s Tower. These are not spell books, these are the creations drawn from the furthest corners of the sane mind of an assortment of authors. Pick one, read it, you’ll be lost in another world within a few pages.

Proud to be among those authors, stocked in the Wizard’s Tower.