It was a warm day, one of those days when the air smells like fresh-cut grass and the sun warms your cheeks without being too hot. Ziggy, Lily, Skye, and Dash were playing in the big garden behind the house, where the grass was soft like a green carpet.

"Let's pretend I'm a knight!" shouted Ziggy, jumping on top of a cushion on the ground.

"And I'm a queen!" said Lily, putting a crown made of daisies on her head.

Skye didn't talk much. She was sitting under the big tree, holding her favorite stuffed toy tight in her arms. It was a little cloth bunny with one ear longer than the other, and she called him Flopsy.

"Dash, what are you?" asked Ziggy.

Dash ran from one side of the garden to the other, fast as lightning. "I'm a flying dragon!" And he spread his arms wide, pretending to have wings.

Right at that moment, a cheeky little breeze came out of nowhere. It messed up Lily's hair, blew away her daisy crown, and with a naughty puff, snatched Flopsy right out of Skye's arms.

"Flopsy!" cried Skye, jumping to her feet.

The stuffed bunny flew up high, higher and higher, then fell back down and rolled along the path that led past the garden gate. Skye ran to get him, and the other three followed.

Flopsy had stopped right in front of two shiny rails that gleamed in the grass. And on those rails, with a great puff of colorful steam, came a little train the children knew very well.

"CHOO CHOO!"

"Toby!" they all shouted together.

Toby the Magic Train stopped in front of them, with his sparkling wheels and steam that made little star shapes in the air. He whistled happily and said:

"Hello children, what a lovely breeze!
I'll take you where stories grow on trees.
Tonight there's a party, a wonderful show,
but something went wrong a long time ago!"

The children looked at each other, curious. Stories growing on trees? What did that mean? There was no time to think about it: Skye picked up Flopsy, they all climbed aboard, and Toby set off with another big "CHOO CHOO!"

The magic train crossed fields of flowers that looked like paintings, went over a bridge made of rainbows, and slipped into a tunnel that smelled like chocolate. When it came out the other side, the children's mouths fell wide open.

In front of them stood an enormous castle, with towers that touched the clouds. But it wasn't a normal castle: the walls were made of giant pages, and on every page you could see drawings that moved. A cat in boots was walking on one wall, and a mermaid was swimming on another.

"It's all made of stories!" whispered Skye, her eyes big and round.

They walked into the main hall and gasped. It was the Throne Room of Whispered Stories. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and when the wind touched them, they tinkled like tiny bells. And from that sound came words, little bits of adventures: "Once upon a time..." and "They lived happily..." and "The dragon spread its wings..."

On the floor, red carpets had the titles of the most beautiful stories stitched into them. And at the far end of the hall stood a big golden throne, but it wasn't a king's throne. Written on it were the words: "The Reader's Throne." It was the special seat for whoever read stories out loud.

"Welcome! No, wait, good morning! I mean... who are you?"

A golden feather was twirling toward them, doing little spins in the air as if it were dancing. It was as big as Skye's hand, it glowed with a warm light, and tied to it with a golden thread was a tiny silver inkwell. When it came closer, the children smelled something sweet, like old pages and vanilla, that lovely smell that grandma's books have.

"I'm Quilly! The guardian of the... the..." She stopped in mid-air suddenly, then curled up on herself like a question mark. "Of the stories! Yes, the stories! And you are... Ziggy, Lola, Skyve, and... the fast boy!"

"My name is Lily, not Lola!" said Lily, crossing her arms.

"And I'm Skye!" smiled Skye.

Quilly did an embarrassed little spin. "Right, sorry! I always get mixed up. Anyway, you've come at a bad time. Tonight is supposed to be the Festival of Living Pages! It's the only night of the year when the characters come out of their books to celebrate all together. But this year..." The feather drooped in the air, sad as a wilted little flower. "This year nobody wants to come."

"Why?" asked Ziggy.

"That's the problem! I can't remember!" Quilly dove into her silver inkwell and came out all covered in shiny ink. "Ah! Wait! Yes! Something happened last year, something bad. But what... what was it?"

"Let's go find out!" said Dash, and off he ran between the giant pages.

The children split up across the great hall. Lily found a little fairy sitting on a carpet, with her arms crossed and a grumpy face.

"Why don't you want to come to the festival?" Lily asked her in a firm voice.

"Because last year someone mixed up all the story endings!" the fairy answered, angry. "I was supposed to live happily ever after, but instead I ended up running away from a wolf! And nobody ever said sorry!"

Ziggy found a little green dragon hiding behind a chandelier. It was small, with soft scales and shiny eyes, as if it was about to cry.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Ziggy asked him gently.

"My ending was so beautiful," said the little dragon in a trembling voice. "I made friends with a prince. But someone changed it, and in the new ending the prince ran away from me. As if I were scary." A tiny tear rolled down his snout.

Dash was running between the shelves, and everywhere he found sad and angry characters. A pirate without his treasure. A princess stuck in the wrong story. A bear who instead of finding honey found rain.

"Someone made a real mess!" said Dash, coming back to the others.

Meanwhile, Skye hadn't been looking for clues among the characters. Skye had been watching Quilly. And she had noticed something strange: every time someone talked about the mixed-up endings, Quilly changed the subject. "Oh, look how that chandelier sparkles!" or "Did I tell you my name is Quilly? Yes, I remember!" Or she would fly away quickly and then stop because she had forgotten where she was going.

Skye walked up to Quilly, who was fluttering nervously near the Reader's Throne. She took her gently in her hands. The feather was warm and trembling.

"Quilly," said Skye in a soft voice. "Was it you who mixed up the endings?"

Quilly stopped trembling for a moment. Then she trembled even harder.

"I... I..." The feather curled up tight like a question mark, but this time she wasn't thinking. She was hiding. "I just wanted to make everyone laugh! I thought if the pirate found strawberries instead of treasure, everyone would laugh! And if the princess ended up in the bear's story, it would be funny!" Quilly's voice became a whisper. "But nobody laughed. And I ruined everything. And then I was so ashamed I couldn't tell anyone."

The hall went quiet. The chandeliers stopped tinkling. All the characters were looking at Quilly.

Skye felt her heart squeeze tight. She knew what it was like to feel ashamed. Sometimes she wanted to hide too, when she dropped something or when she said a word wrong. She stroked the feather with one finger.

"My Dad Mike always says something," Skye whispered. "He says that whoever says 'I was wrong' is already halfway to making things right."

Quilly lifted her tip, as if raising her head. "But what if they're angry with me?"

"Maybe a little bit," answered Skye. "But if you say sorry, they can also help you put everything back."

Quilly stayed still in the air for a long moment. Then, slowly, she flew to the center of the hall. She dove into the silver inkwell, and when she came out she was shining brighter than before, as if courage had made her glow.

"Friends..." said Quilly, and her voice wasn't shaking anymore. "It was me. Last year I mixed up your endings because I wanted to make you laugh. But I was wrong, and I hurt you. I'm so sorry. I'm truly sorry."

The silence lasted one heartbeat. Then the little green dragon flew down from the chandelier.

"I knew it was you," said the little dragon. "Because only you know how to write."

"Then why didn't you say so?" asked Lily.

"Because I was hoping she would say it herself," answered the little dragon, looking at Quilly with a small smile. "And in the end, she did."

The fairy stood up from the carpet. "If you help us rewrite the right endings, I forgive you."

"Me too!" said the pirate.

"Me too!" said the princess.

"Me too!" said the bear, who was finally smiling.

And so began the most beautiful work in the world. Quilly flew from one book to another, with the children helping her. Ziggy held the big pages open, Lily suggested the right words with her firm voice. Dash ran carrying books from one corner of the hall to the other, fast as always. And Skye stayed beside Quilly, and every time the feather stopped, unsure, she told her: "Go on, you can do it."

Quilly rewrote the endings, and as each story was set right, the chandeliers began to tinkle again. The walls of pages were shining. The little dragon found his prince again, the fairy found her happy ending, the pirate found his treasure, and the princess found her story.

When the last ending was back in its place, something magical happened. All the chandeliers lit up at once, and from the light came confetti made of letters of the alphabet, dancing in the air like butterflies. The characters stepped out of their books, one after another, smiling.

The Festival of Living Pages had begun.

The little dragon danced with the fairy. The pirate laughed with the bear. The princess played ring-around-the-rosy with Dash and Ziggy. And Quilly twirled happily above everyone, leaving trails of golden light in the air.

Skye sat down on the Reader's Throne. Not because she wanted to be a queen, but because her legs were a little bit tired and she wanted to rest. From up there she watched the festival, and she smiled. Quilly flew to her and landed softly on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Skye," whispered the feather. "If you hadn't asked me for the truth, I would never have told it."

"Telling the truth is a little scary," answered Skye, stroking her. "But afterward, you feel so much lighter."

A happy whistle rang through the hall. "CHOO CHOO!"

Toby the Magic Train was at the door, ready to take the children home. The four friends said goodbye to everyone, hugged Quilly and the little dragon, and climbed aboard.

Toby whistled happily and said:

"Quilly found her courage, brave and true,
and the festival shone with a golden hue.
Who says 'I was wrong' has the bravest heart of all,
forgiveness is a hug that catches you when you fall!"

The magic train set off among the stars, through the chocolate tunnel, over the rainbow bridge, and brought the children back to the big garden.

It was evening now, and Dad Mike came to pick up Skye. He was very tall, and had to bend down to look her in the eyes.

"So, what did you do today?" he asked with a smile.

Skye thought for a moment, then said: "I learned that telling the truth is like turning on a light."

Dad Mike picked her up and laughed. "I'm putting that one in my notebook of beautiful words!"

Skye rested her head on her dad's shoulder and felt her eyes closing. Flopsy was held tight in her hand, and in the garden the playful little breeze had stopped blowing.

But if you listened very carefully, in the evening air, you could hear a distant tinkling. Like crystal chandeliers playing a festival.