That night Isla just couldn’t fall asleep. A clock ticked in the kitchen. And on the wall lived shadows. A shaggy giant with a round head. A long arm with spread-out fingers. A lumpy mountain. They didn’t move. But they looked as if they might. She pulled the blanket up to her nose. Under the pillow the key grew warm and hummed: “Mmmm…” It had turned up only that day.
Then, from under the bed, somebody said: “Hic!” A spark jumped out from under the edge of the blanket, as tiny as a match head, and went out. Isla froze. She could have dived under the covers. Instead, she leaned over the side of the bed and peeked underneath. There, next to a lost sock, sat a little dragon the size of a kitten. He was shaking so hard that his scales jingled like spoons in a glass. “I’m not scared!” he squeaked. “Well… a tiny bit. Hic!”
The little dragon’s name was Ember. He had come through the little door, from the Land of Twelve Moons. “Everyone’s saying you’ve got the key to the door now!” he gabbled. “Oh-oh-oh, I thought, whoever has the key can’t be scared in their room. But you’ve got a giant!” He pointed a claw at the wall and hid up Isla’s sleeve. So the brave one here was Isla. That was a surprise. And it didn’t make things any less scary.
Isla held Ember in one hand. He was warm as a stove and light as a mitten. To be honest, Isla was scared too. But now there was someone smaller. Ember looked up the way you look up at someone big and brave. So Isla said what she most wanted to hear herself: “Let’s go and look closer. I’ll be right here.” Ember nodded. He was so nervous he hiccuped, and the spark lit them both up.
The floorboards creaked softly. Isla tiptoed, with Ember hiccuping on her hand every other step. The giant on the wall grew bigger, and the steps grew smaller. “Hic!” A spark flared up. It was as bright as a lamp. Who’s there? It’s only… a coat! It hung on a hook, with the hood sticking up like a shaggy head. “Good evening, Sir Coat-Hook,” Isla said politely. Ember laughed so hard he hiccuped three times in a row.
Next, the long arm. “Hic!” Who’s there? It’s only… a branch! It swayed outside the window, waving its leaves as if to say hello. Then the mountain. “Hic!” Who’s there? It’s only… a chair! With a blanket on it, folded like slopes. “Blanket Mountain!” Ember scrambled to the top and declared himself a mountain dragon, big and terribly brave. It turned out hiccups make the best lamp in the world. Especially laughing hiccups.
They went to the window and pressed their noses to the glass. The glass was cold, but Ember’s nose was hot, and it left a little misty spot. The garden was full of life. Fireflies blinked in the grass, as if someone had scattered crumbs of light. A hedgehog pattered down the path. Somewhere an owl was hooting. And above the trees hung a thin new moon, smiling. Ember stared and stared, and even forgot to hiccup. “Oh-oh-oh,” Ember whispered. “There’s so many of them out there!”
“The dark isn’t empty at all,” said Ember, amazed. “But what about the giant? And the mountain?” “They’re still there. Sir Coat-Hook and Blanket Mountain. Only now they’re ours,” said Isla. And added: “The dark is only night with the light switched off.” Ember yawned and curled up on the rug, tail to nose. His last spark didn’t go out. He glowed, soft and steady, like a night-light nobody had switched on.
Isla watched Ember until her eyes closed by themselves. Outside came a soft “ting”, like a spoon set down on a saucer. The first moon had lit up, gentle as a night-light. On the map of Luna the owl, keeper of the moons, the very first circle glowed. In the morning a scale would be lying on the rug, warm and shaped like a leaf, ready for the shelf by the window. For now, the shadows were only shadows. And the night was only night.