Rory and the little dragon paint their twig nest silver in a tree while a large mother dragon flies above them through the night sky.

A PICTURE BOOK

Rory and the Moonlight Paint

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Rory and the Moonlight Paint

Rory stands on the stairs in blue slippers, looking at a glowing silver jar on a high shelf as pale paint flows under the shop door at night.

Rory lived above a little paint shop with his aunt. Every jar had a bright label: RED APPLE, BLUE SEA, YELLOW SUN. But on the highest shelf stood a plain silver jar. Its label said, MOONLIGHT—OPEN ONLY AT NIGHT.

One evening, Rory heard a tiny sneeze downstairs. “Achoo!” Then came a soft drip, drip, drip.

He slipped into his blue slippers and crept down the stairs. The silver jar was open. A pale, shining puddle was sliding under the shop door.

Rory kneels beside a sad little green dragon curled around a twig nest beneath a large tree at night.

Rory followed the shining paint outside. It crossed the pavement, painted a glowing stripe up a tree trunk, then slipped into the park.

At the tree, Rory found a small dragon curled around a bare twig nest. Its blue wings were folded tight. “I wanted to paint my nest so my mother could find me,” it sniffed. “Then I sneezed, and the paint ran away.”

Rory and the little dragon run along a shining trail through the park toward a pond, passing a swing and three silver flowers.

“Why does she need a shining nest?” Rory asked.

“She is flying home through dark clouds,” said the little dragon. “She will look for my light.”

A silver trail stretched across the grass. Rory and the dragon hurried after it. One dab gleamed on a swing. Another had turned three daisies silver. At the pond, the last of the paint swirled round and round on the water.

At the pond, Rory holds a bucket beneath a glowing ball of paint while the little dragon blows across the water.

Rory had an idea. He fetched a clean bucket from the shop. The little dragon blew warm air across the pond. The paint gathered into a bright, wobbly ball. Plop! It dropped into the bucket.

Back at the tree, Rory dipped a wide brush into the moonlight paint. The little dragon held the nest still with one claw. Together they painted every twig. Soon the nest glowed like a little moon among the leaves.

High above, the clouds opened. A much bigger dragon circled once, then twice. “There you are!” she called.

She landed beside the shining nest and tucked the little dragon under her wing. Rory waved as mother and child curled close together in the tree.

Rory paints a small silver star on the blue paint-shop door while the little dragon watches from the doorway holding a glowing jar.

Before Rory went upstairs, the little dragon gave him one last silver drop. Rory painted a tiny star on the paint-shop door. From then on, anyone passing by at night knew where to find a little wonder.