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“But the clouds had decided here. Right here. In this detestable, sandy wasteland. They had chosen him. Not some other poor sap rumaging around in his grandparents basement, looking for mysterious, wonderous things to nurture his curious, noble mind. No, the clouds had pointed their vaporous finger at him, the one person in Roduntok who actually had something to do today. Not that he wasn’t flattered. Personally, he never would have guessed he was a trustworthy hero. But, really, clouds. Today?” – Emily Kinney, author of The Island of Lote

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