Juniper and the Lantern Fox

Chapter 1: The Fox with the Glowing Tail

In a small village called Hollowmere, tucked between a sleepy hill and a whispering wood, there lived a girl named Juniper Bell. Juniper was eight years old, and she had hair the color of autumn leaves, a gap where her front tooth used to be, and a pocketful of questions. Why do owls stay up all night? Where does the wind go when it stops blowing? How many stars can fit in a jar? (She had tried this last one. It did not work.) Hollowmere was a cozy place, and the coziest thing about it was the Lantern Tree. It stood in the middle of the village square, and every evening, just as the sun slipped behind the hill, its branches lit up with hundreds of tiny golden lights, like a tree full of sleepy fireflies. The villagers would gather beneath it to share supper, sing songs, and tell stories until it was time for bed. But one evening, the sun slipped behind the hill, and the Lantern Tree did not light up. Juniper stood in the square with her mother, her father, and her little brother Basil, who was four and held a stuffed rabbit named Sir Nibbles. Everyone stared at the dark branches. "Maybe it's just tired," said Basil. "Trees don't get tired," said Mr. Pemberton, the baker. "This one might," said Juniper. "It has been shining every night for a hundred years." The villagers waited. They waited and waited. The stars came out, but they were far away and cold, and the square felt strangely quiet and very, very big. That night, as Juniper lay in bed, she looked out of her window at the dark tree. And she made up her mind. "Tomorrow," she whispered to the ceiling, "I am going to find out what happened to our lights."

The next morning, Juniper packed her satchel. She put in a jam sandwich, an apple, a ball of string, a small notebook, and a pencil with a chewed-up end. Then, after thinking for a moment, she added a spare pair of woolly socks, because her grandmother always said that an adventurer with cold feet is no adventurer at all. "Where are you off to?" asked her father, looking up from his tea. "To the Whispering Wood," said Juniper. "Old Mr. Thistlewick says the Lantern Tree's lights came from the wood long ago. If something went wrong, the answer must be there." Her mother knelt down and tied Juniper's scarf snugly around her neck. "Be brave, be kind, and be home by supper," she said. "Always," said Juniper, and she set off. The Whispering Wood was not frightening in the daytime. Sunlight dripped through the leaves in long green ribbons, and the path wound between mossy stones and ferns as tall as Juniper's shoulders. But the deeper she walked, the quieter it became, until all she could hear was the crunch of her own boots. Then she heard something else. A small, sniffly sound. Juniper tiptoed toward it and peeked around a great old oak. There, curled up among the roots, was a fox. His fur was the color of marmalade, and he had a long, bushy tail that curled around his paws. The tip of that tail was glowing, very faintly, like a candle about to go out. "Hello," said Juniper. The fox jumped. "Oh! A person! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to be crying. I'm usually much braver than this." "You can talk," said Juniper, delighted. "Of course I can talk," said the fox, wiping his nose with his paw. "Can't you?" "Well, yes." "Then that's settled." He sat up straight and sniffed. "My name is Ember. I'm the Lantern Fox. Or at least, I was. It's my job to carry light from the heart of the wood to the Lantern Tree in your village every evening. But three nights ago, I lost the Moon Lantern, and without it, my tail can barely glow at all." Juniper's eyes went wide. "So that's why our tree went dark!" "Oh dear," said Ember, and his ears drooped. "Has it? I was afraid of that. I have been looking everywhere, but I'm too small and too sad to search the whole wood by myself." Juniper thought for a moment. Then she held out her hand, the way you do when you're making a promise. "I'll help you," she said. "Two searchers are better than one. And besides, I brought a jam sandwich." Ember smiled for the first time, and the tip of his tail flickered a little brighter.

Ember explained that he had last seen the Moon Lantern near the Silverthread Stream, on the far side of the wood. He had stopped to drink, and when he looked up, it was gone. "Then that's where we'll start," said Juniper. They walked together, the girl and the fox, and Juniper filled the quiet with questions. What did the Moon Lantern look like? (A round glass globe, as big as a pumpkin, with a soft silver glow inside.) Where did it come from? (It was made from a piece of the very first moonbeam that ever touched the earth.) Was it heavy? (Not at all, but it was very, very precious.) After a while, they came to a rickety wooden bridge over a rushing stream. The water sparkled and splashed, and sitting in the middle of the bridge, with her arms folded and her whiskers twitching, was an enormous gray badger wearing a tiny pair of spectacles. "Halt!" said the badger. "No one crosses Gruffbridge without answering my riddle." Juniper looked at Ember. Ember looked at Juniper. "Go on, then," said Juniper politely. The badger cleared her throat. "I have no voice, yet I can sing, I have no wings, yet I can fly, I have no legs, yet I can run, And I whisper by when the day is done." Ember scrunched up his face. "A bird?" he guessed. "Birds have wings," said the badger. "I said I had none." "A cloud?" said Ember. "Clouds don't sing." Juniper closed her eyes and thought hard. She remembered all the nights she had lain in bed, listening to a sound outside her window. A sound that rattled the shutters and made the leaves dance, and then drifted away to somewhere unknown. Her eyes popped open. "The wind!" she cried. "It's the wind! It sings through the trees, it flies without wings, it runs without legs, and it whispers past at night." The badger blinked. Then she smiled, which made her whole face crinkle up like a pleasant old pillow. "Well done, little one," she said. "I am Madame Gruffle, keeper of this bridge, and I haven't been answered correctly in forty years. You may pass." "Thank you," said Juniper. "Madame Gruffle, did you happen to see a glowing glass globe near the stream a few nights ago?" The badger tapped her chin. "Hmm. I did not. But I did see a magpie flapping about that night, carrying something shiny. Magpies adore shiny things. You might try the Tall Pines, where the magpies make their nests." "Thank you!" said Juniper again, and the two friends crossed the bridge, with Ember's tail glowing just a little brighter than before.

The Tall Pines were so tall that Juniper had to tip her head all the way back to see the tops. High up among the branches, hundreds of nests were tucked like little baskets, and every one of them glittered. There were spoons and buttons, bottle caps and beads, a silver thimble, a brass key, and half of a pair of spectacles. "Hello?" Juniper called up. "Is anyone home?" A black-and-white head poked over the edge of the biggest nest. "Who's asking?" squawked a voice. "My name is Juniper, and this is Ember, the Lantern Fox. We're looking for the Moon Lantern. Have you seen it?" The magpie fluttered down and landed on a branch right in front of them. She was plump and proud, with an eye as bright as a button. "I am Pippa Pennywhistle, finest collector in all the Whispering Wood," she announced. "And yes, I may have come across a certain glowing object. But finders keepers, as they say!" Ember's whiskers trembled. "Please," he said softly. "It isn't just a shiny thing. It lights up the whole village. Without it, the children of Hollowmere sit in the dark every night." Pippa shuffled her feet. "Well," she said, "it is the most beautiful thing I've ever found. It's the pride of my collection. I take it out every evening and just look at it." Juniper had an idea. She reached into her satchel and pulled out the ball of string, the notebook, and the woolly socks. "Pippa, I can't give you something as beautiful as the Moon Lantern. But I'd be happy to trade you a little something for it. And I'll tell you what else. If you give it back, the Lantern Tree will light up again, and all the lights it makes will be right there in the village. You could visit every night and see a hundred little golden lanterns instead of just one." Pippa's head tilted. "A hundred?" "At least," said Juniper. "And you wouldn't have to keep them in a nest, because they'd be shared by everybody." The magpie was silent for a long time. Then, slowly, she hopped back up to her nest, and when she returned, she was carrying a round glass globe that shone with a soft silver light. She set it down gently at Juniper's feet. "I think," said Pippa, in a smaller voice than before, "that the best shiny things are the ones you get to share." Ember threw his paws around the globe and cried happy tears, and his tail blazed up so brightly that all the magpies in the pines gasped and clapped their wings. Juniper gave Pippa the ball of string, because magpies are very fond of string, and the two friends said goodbye.

But as they set off toward the village, the sky began to darken. It was not the soft darkness of evening. It was the heavy, gray darkness of a storm. Thunder rumbled. Raindrops began to fall, first a few, then a great many. The wind howled through the trees and snatched at Juniper's scarf. "Quickly!" cried Ember. "If the Moon Lantern gets too wet, its light will fade!" Juniper pulled off her scarf, wrapped it around the glowing globe, and tucked it under her coat. Then she took off her satchel and held it over her head like an umbrella, with Ember huddled underneath beside her. They ran. The path was slippery and muddy, and the trees creaked and groaned overhead. Twice Juniper tripped on a root, and twice Ember tugged her up by the sleeve. "I'm scared," Ember admitted. "Me too," said Juniper, "but my mother says being brave doesn't mean you aren't scared. It means you keep going anyway." "Then let's be brave together," said the fox. At last, through the rain, they saw the stone bridge at the edge of Hollowmere. But the stream below had swollen high, and the water was already lapping at the planks. They would have to cross quickly. Step by careful step, they went. Halfway across, a gust of wind slammed into them, and Juniper's boot slipped. She lurched sideways, and for one terrible moment, she thought the lantern would tumble into the water. But Ember sprang forward and caught the edge of her coat in his teeth, and he held on with all his might until Juniper found her footing again. "Thank you," she gasped. "Thank you," said Ember, spitting out a bit of wool. "You have not stopped helping me since we met." They hurried on, and soon they were running down the lane, past the baker's, past the schoolhouse, and into the village square.

The whole village was gathered beneath the dark Lantern Tree, holding umbrellas and candles that sputtered in the rain. When they saw Juniper and a talking fox come splashing into the square, a gasp rippled through the crowd. "Juniper Bell!" cried her mother, rushing forward. "We've been so worried!" "I'm sorry I'm late," said Juniper, panting. "But I have something for the tree." She unwrapped the scarf, and the Moon Lantern glowed in her hands, silver and soft and warm. Ember padded up to the trunk of the old tree and pressed his glowing tail against the bark. For one long moment, nothing happened. Then a single golden light blinked on, high in the branches. Then another, and another. Light rippled outward and upward, branch by branch, until the whole tree shimmered like a thousand stars come down to visit. The rain slowed, then stopped, and the clouds drifted apart to reveal a sky full of real stars, which seemed to wink at the tree as if to say, Welcome back. The villagers cheered. Mr. Pemberton threw his hat into the air. Basil hugged Sir Nibbles and shouted, "I TOLD you it was just tired!" Juniper's father lifted her onto his shoulders, and her mother kissed the top of her head. Ember sat at her feet, tail blazing brighter than it ever had before. "Juniper," he said quietly, so only she could hear. "I could not have done this without you. You were brave, and you were kind, and you never gave up on me." Juniper grinned her gap-toothed grin. "That's what friends do." The Lantern Fox bowed his head. "Then I hope we shall always be friends." "Always," said Juniper. That night, the villagers of Hollowmere feasted beneath the glowing tree. There was warm bread and honey cake, and music that went on long past bedtime. Even Pippa Pennywhistle flew down from the pines to see the lights, and Madame Gruffle came shuffling in from her bridge, and for the first time in a hundred years, the creatures of the wood and the people of the village sat down together and shared a meal. When the singing was done and the candles were low, Juniper climbed into bed, her cheeks pink and her eyes heavy. From her window, she could see the Lantern Tree glowing gold against the night. And on the branch nearest her window, a little fox curled up with his tail tucked around his nose, keeping watch over the sleeping village. "Goodnight, Ember," whispered Juniper. And the tip of a glowing tail blinked twice, as if to say, Goodnight, my friend.