What if tonight, your child learned courage by saving a dragon?

Léo and the Golden Lantern

One autumn morning, Léo sat in the old workshop of Master Tilleul. The room smelled of wax and dry leaves. Léo bent down and tied his shoelaces in a tight double knot.

Ruben sat beside him on a stool. Ruben was Léo's best friend, the boy with the freckles and the red scarf. He swung his legs and stared at the shelves.

Master Tilleul was an old magician with a long white beard. He carried a spoon in his pocket for stirring potions. On the window hook hung the golden lantern.

"This lantern lights the magic path," said Master Tilleul. "Without it, nobody finds the way home at night."

"Does it light up by itself?" asked Ruben.

"Every evening, as soon as the sun goes down," said the old magician.

Léo looked up at the lantern. It shone softly, even in daylight.

"And where is Sage?" asked Léo.

"He is out flying," said Master Tilleul. "Sage is my little dragon. He is green with gold speckles on his tail. He always comes back for supper."

Léo smiled. He loved dragons more than anything. He pushed a warm honey tartine deeper into his pocket, in case Sage was hungry.

The next morning, the workshop door creaked.

"Creak."

Léo stopped on the doorstep. The window was wide open. The curtain flapped in the cold air.

The hook was empty.

"The lantern!" cried Ruben. "It's gone!"

Master Tilleul ran to the window. His beard shook. He looked at the bare hook, then at the floor, then at the sky.

"Sage did not come home last night either," he said slowly.

Léo's fingers closed tight around the edge of the table. Nobody spoke for a moment.

"Then we go and find them," said Léo. His voice was small, but it did not shake.

"Before the sun sets behind the hills," said Master Tilleul. "After that, the magic path goes dark."

Ruben grabbed his red scarf. Léo bent down and checked his laces. Double knot.

"Come," said Léo.

They hurried along the mossy path in the Whispering Wood. The moss was soft and green under their feet. The leaves above them whispered, shh, shh.

Léo ran in front, with Ruben at his side. Master Tilleul followed with his spoon in his pocket, a little out of breath.

Then the wind came. It pushed through the trees and messed up Léo's hair.

"Whoosh."

"My hair is standing straight up!" said Ruben, laughing.

Léo did not laugh. The wind was colder now. It smelled of stone and deep, empty places.

"The path ends soon," said Master Tilleul. "Stay close to me, both of you."

Léo slowed down. He took Ruben's sleeve and walked beside the old magician.

The trees opened up. Light poured in between the trunks. Léo's feet slowed, one step, then another.

The wood ended at the edge of a great chasm.

Léo stopped. The rocks were gray and cracked. Far below, the bottom was only a dark shadow. The cold wind climbed up the wall and blew in his face.

"Whoosh."

A rope bridge had once crossed here. Now only two ropes hung from the posts on this side. The ends were cut clean.

"Who would do that?" whispered Ruben.

Master Tilleul did not answer. He pointed across the gap.

On the other side, a dark cave opened in the cliff. At its mouth sat a little green dragon with gold speckles on his tail. It was Sage.

He waved one small wing. Beside him, something golden shone.

"The lantern!" said Léo.

"Sage cannot fly across," said Master Tilleul. "His wing is too tired."

Léo's mouth was dry. His knees felt like they belonged to someone else.

Master Tilleul opened his old bag. He took out two tiny wings, thin as leaves and glowing a pale gold.

"These are magic wings," he said. "They carry a child who beats them hard. They are too small for me, and too small for Ruben."

He fastened them on Léo's back. They tickled a little.

"I will not push you," said the old magician. "I will stay right here, and I will watch."

Léo walked to the edge. He took one step. Small stones rolled down into the dark.

"Tick, tick."

He stepped back. His fingers curled tight. His breath came short and fast.

"I can't," he whispered.

"Take your time," said Ruben. "I'm here."

Léo looked at Sage, so small on the far side. The wind pushed softly against his back now, as if it wanted him to go.

Léo stood up straight. He closed his eyes.

His knees were shaking. His breath was short. He stepped off the edge.

The air rushed under him. He beat the little wings. Once. Twice. Again.

"Flap, flap."

The wind held him up. It blew from behind, warm on his neck. Léo did not look down. He kept his eyes on the cave.

His shoes touched the rock on the other side.

"Léo!" cried Sage. His voice was thin and hoarse.

The little dragon was shivering. Léo pulled the honey tartine out of his pocket. It was still warm. He broke it in two and held out the bigger half.

Sage ate slowly. His green tail stopped trembling.

"Thank you," said Sage. "I was stuck here all night."

Léo took the golden lantern in one hand. Sage climbed up onto his shoulder.

The sun was low behind the hills when Léo flew back. Sage sat on his shoulder. Léo held the lantern in his hand. The wind blew behind him the whole way. He landed on the rock, a little wobbly.

Ruben jumped up and down, his red scarf flying. Master Tilleul smiled, and his beard lifted in the wind.

"We never fly over a chasm without magic wings and a grown-up watching," said Master Tilleul. He gave Léo a long hug.

They walked home along the mossy path. The lantern lit the way, gold and soft.

In the workshop, Master Tilleul hung it on the hook by the open window. The window now stood closed and latched. Sage curled up on the shelf.

Léo looked down. His shoelaces were undone, both of them, trailing on the floor.

He laughed and bent to tie them.

"Tomorrow," said Sage sleepily, "will you show me how the wings work?"