CHAPTER 7

Very, very few people from Four Points had ever been inside the Fifth Point. The someone who was inside it, the owner of the quavering voice—and, in fact, the owner of the shop itself—was certainly not from the town. No, the ShopKeeper wasn’t from Four Points or any of the neighboring villages or the city nearby. He wasn’t from the state or even the country.

He was from far, far away.

Many years ago, the ShopKeeper had built the Fifth Point, as he had built many others like it. Up until that time, his earthly days had been spent traveling between these shops, training Keepers and accompanying them on quests. They were his dear friends, these Keepers, and the quests were his life’s work.

But after completing the Fifth Point in Four Points, the ShopKeeper had decided his traveling days were over. Even back then, he had begun to feel old and faded. There were quests to be completed in Four Points, of course—that was why he had chosen to set up a shop there in the first place—but not too many. Just enough.

At least it had been just enough until lately. Lately, the ShopKeeper had begun to feel older than old. Lately, it was all he could do to climb to the top of the tower every evening to watch the Stars.

But old or not, faded or not, a new quest had begun.

“She’ll be here soon,” the ShopKeeper whispered again from his workbench.

Then, a little louder, “She’ll be here soon.”

Then, like a song, ringing through the shop from the top to the bottom, “She’ll be here soon, she’ll be here soon, she’ll be here soon.”

As tired as he was, the start of a new quest always gave the ShopKeeper a spark. He had found the Elementals—one, two, three, four. The book had been picked up. The containers too, three first and then the final one. And this morning, he had opened the south door.

Everything was ready.

“Now we must wait. We must wait, we must wait. Now we must wait.”

The words hung suspended in the lazy-floating dust motes, in the amber-blue rays of light. The porcelain dolls that had ears seemed to be listening. The clocks that still could tick-tock, tick-tocked on.

“Because she’ll be here soon.”