Outside the window the rain was falling, and it wasn't just any rain. Every drop made a different sound: tink on the glass, pat on the leaves, pling inside the puddles, and plop on the roof of the little birds' house. It seemed the sky was playing a song just for them, a slow and gentle song.

Ziggy, Lily, Skye and Dash were sitting on the rug, in front of a glowing lamp. They had discovered a wonderful game: putting their hands in front of the light and making shadows on the wall.

"Look, a little dog!" laughed Ziggy, wiggling his fingers.

"And this is a little bird flying!" said Lily, as determined as ever, trying to make perfect wings.

Dash tried to make a crocodile, but it came out like a sock with teeth, and everyone burst out laughing. "My crocodile lost its teeth!" he shouted, and laughed too.

Skye, calm, watched the shadows dance on the wall and smiled. "They look like lots of little friends dancing," she whispered. She loved it when the shadows moved softly on the wall, as if they had a secret life.

That was when they heard it. A faraway sound coming closer through the rain.

"CHOO CHOO!"

It was Toby the Magic Train, colorful as a rainbow, and he stopped in front of them, puffing little clouds of smoke. He opened his door and said:

"CHOO CHOO! Climb aboard and come away with me,
I'll take you somewhere higher than a king could be.
Up there the stories lost their voice one day,
whoever listens with their heart will find the way!"

The children looked at each other with sparkling eyes. Somewhere higher than a king? Stories that had lost their voice? They climbed aboard in a hurry, and Toby set off through the singing rain.

The little train raced up a hillside road, and the drops on the window looked like tiny musical notes sliding down. Up and up it went, all the way to the top, where there stood an old castle with pointy towers. Toby stopped at the foot of a very tall tower, round like a great big pipe of stone.

"Is it here?" asked Dash, his nose in the air.

They went in and climbed a spiral staircase, curling around like the inside of a seashell. At the top they found a round room, full of books from floor to ceiling. There was only one lamp glowing, and in the air a sweet smell of old paper and vanilla, like fresh-baked cookies.

But there was something strange. A heavy silence, like a blanket too thick.

"What a quiet room," said Skye.

Lily opened a book right away. Then she opened another. And another one.

"Everyone... the pages are blank!" she exclaimed. "There isn't even one word!"

It was true. All the books were empty, like sheets never written on. The words had vanished. The children flipped through a big book, a small one, a red one and a blue one: all silent, all without even a single letter.

"Maybe they're hiding!" said Ziggy. He took a book and shook it hard, the way you shake a piggy bank. He held it upside down and waited. But nothing fell out, not even a comma.

"Let's call them!" suggested Dash. He took a deep breath and shouted: "LITTLE WORDS, WHERE ARE YOU? COME BACK!"

His voice echoed in the round room. But nothing happened. Actually, in a corner, behind a pile of books, something trembled.

Skye noticed it first. She came closer without making a sound and looked behind the books.

There, hidden, was a little lamp. It wasn't a normal lamp: it had a tiny flame that trembled, like a candle in the wind. And when it saw the children, it trembled even more and tried to make itself small.

"Hello," said Skye, in a sweet voice. "Don't be afraid. What's your name?"

The lamp hesitated. Then, in the tiniest voice, she whispered: "My name is Lucilla. I am the keeper of this library."

"Keeper?" asked Dash, curious. "What does keeper mean?"

"A keeper is someone who protects something and takes care of it," Lucilla explained slowly. "I used to keep all the stories. But I wasn't good at it."

"Why are the books empty?" asked Lily.

Lucilla's little flame trembled, sad. "Long ago, this tower was full of voices. People came to read out loud, and the words danced in the air. I made shadows on the walls: rabbits, deer, butterflies... Then, one day, no one came anymore. The silence grew big. And the words, with no one to read them, went dim and flew away from the pages. I went a little dim too. Now I'm even afraid to light up."

The children stood in silence. Ziggy tried shaking a book again. Dash tried calling the words with an even louder voice. Lily even searched inside the drawers, under the rug, on top of the shelves. But the more noise they made and the more they rushed, the smaller and more frightened Lucilla's flame became.

Then Skye understood. It wasn't a problem to solve with hands or with shouts. It was a problem of the heart.

She sat down on the floor, next to Lucilla, calm the way she is in the evening when she dozes off in her daddy's arms. She said nothing for a moment. She only listened to the rain singing beyond the round window. Then she reached out a hand and brought it close to the lamp, the way you do when you want to warm your fingers by a fire, slowly and without touching.

"Lucilla," she said at last, softly, "I'm not asking you to light up the whole room. I'm only asking one little thing. Would you try to make a shadow? Just one, as small as a bean."

Lucilla trembled. "And what if I can't?"

"Then I'll stay here with you anyway," answered Skye, and she smiled at her.

The lamp stayed still for a long time. Then, with great courage for such a tiny flame, she lit up just a little. On the round wall a flickering shadow appeared. It had two long ears.

"A little rabbit!" whispered Skye, her eyes sparkling. "It's beautiful."

The rabbit of light wiggled one ear, as if to say hello.

Then Skye took one of the books, opened it on her knees, and began to tell a story. The pages were blank, so she didn't read the written words: she told a story she knew by heart, in a warm and slow voice. "Once upon a time there was a little rabbit," she said, "who wanted to touch the moon. He hopped and hopped, but the moon was always up there. Then one night he understood that he didn't have to hop higher: he only had to close his eyes and dream it, and the moon came down to sleep beside him."

And something magical happened.

While Skye was talking, a word appeared on the blank page. Then another. Then many. The words were coming back, called by her voice, like little birds returning to the nest.

Lucilla's flame grew taller. "Do... do you hear them?" she whispered, moved. "The words are coming back."

Skye nodded, without stopping her smile.

Lucilla looked at her, and her little voice trembled. "No one looked at me anymore," she said. "For such a long time, no one."

Skye laid a hand near her, gently. "I'm looking at you now," she answered.

For a moment they stayed like that, the calm little girl and the little lamp, while outside the rain sang and inside the words came home. Ziggy, Lily and Dash had slightly teary eyes too, and no one said a thing.

Then Lily took a book and said: "I want to read too!" And she read out loud, sure of herself, the story of a princess who wasn't afraid of the dark.

Ziggy opened another one and told a funny story about four brave cats who saved a goldfish that had fallen into the pond.

Even Dash, who never sat still, sat down and read in his quick voice, laughing at the hard words.

And with each voice, Lucilla's flame grew brighter. On the round walls shadows of every kind appeared: a deer that leaped, a butterfly that opened its wings, a bear that waved with its paw, a little fish that swam in the air. The shadows danced happily, like friends at a party. The children clapped their hands and laughed, and every time they laughed a new shadow was born: a slow turtle, an owl with big eyes, a little snail that waved with its feelers.

The books, one after another, filled up with words again. The tower was no longer silent: it whispered, it sang, it laughed with stories.

And then the last wonder happened. Outside the window, the rain stopped being rain. From the sky, flower petals began to fall, pink and yellow and blue, filling the air with sweet scent. It was like applause, a fragrant applause, to celebrate the words that had come home.

"Thank you," said Lucilla, and now her light was warm and steady. "I'm not afraid anymore. Because now I have a friend."

Skye hugged her with her eyes. "We'll come back to read with you," she promised. "All together."

When it was time to go, the children said goodbye to Lucilla, who lit their way to the door by making the shadow of a little hand waving.

Outside, Toby was waiting for them, with petals settling on his roof.

"CHOO CHOO! We ride back home with a happy heart,
and the words all dance in the wind, a brand-new start.
Whoever reads out loud, whoever listens with love and care,
wakes up the stories and paints the colors everywhere!"

The children climbed aboard, and as the little train went down the hill among the fragrant petals, Skye looked back, toward the tower. At the top, in the round window, a little light was shining. And it trembled no more.