The Night's Secret

The way Baby Blue Bears and Russo Baby Bears had been acting around the Moonpetal flowers was… well, it was weird. Even for them. Normally, their weirdness involved chasing their own tails with the intensity of a seasoned detective or trying to bark down a passing cloud. But this was different. It was a low, rumbling growl directed not at the mailman or a rogue squirrel, but at the delicate, luminous petals that unfurled only after the sun surrendered its last yawn. They’d press their tiny noses against the glass of my conservatory, their little bodies quivering, their usual yappy excitement replaced by a focused, almost reverent intensity. It was unnerving.

I tried to ignore it, of course. Ignoring things was my specialty, right after creating glitter spells that looked like a unicorn sneezed. My magic was all sparkle and shine, hardly the stuff of ancient prophecies or village-saving heroics. The Spooky Moon, as I’d started calling it in my head, was a very real, very dark threat. Everyone in Oakhaven was whispering about it, their faces pale and worried. The elders spoke of the Lunar Eclipse, a time when the moon would swallow the sun, plunging us into an endless night. And my contribution? Sparkly dust that made flowers bloom a little brighter and sometimes made old Mrs. Higgins’s prize-winning pumpkin glow for a few hours. Wonderful. Just wonderful.