The Fish at Dawn — Before sunrise, Bram padded over the drawbridge with his little tin lantern, clink-clink, to light the castle gate. Read the full story →
Before sunrise, Bram padded over the drawbridge with his little tin lantern, clink-clink, to light the castle gate. Every day, he counted the towers in the blue hush and listened to the moat go lap, lap, lap.
Until one day, a silver fish popped up and spat a pearl of water onto his shoe. “Not the gate,” it bubbled. “The dark, please.” Because of that, Bram carried his lantern down to the moat edge. Because of that, he saw tiny fish eggs tucked under the bridge, cold as moon jelly. He shielded them with his lantern’s warm glow until the sun rose gold on the stones. Nobody in the castle saw him. But the moat went lap, lap, thank you—and next time you spot the fish by the drawbridge, they might be guarding dawn again.