The Little Queen and the Runaway Letters

In a kingdom by a warm sea, where oranges glow on the branches like little lanterns, there lived a Little Queen named Diana.

Diana did not know how to walk slowly. She ran, jumped, spun around railings and made up jokes faster than anyone could laugh at them.

And she had a gift. Whatever Diana truly wishes for comes true. Sooner or later. One way or another.

Once, on a trip to a hot city in the middle of the desert, a girl walked past them carrying a giant plush cat. It was almost as tall as she was.

"Mom, I want a giant toy too!"

"Bunny," said Mom, "to get something, you have to work for it first."

And right then a man walked up to them holding a plush carrot. A giant one — as tall as Mom! He looked at Diana... and simply gave her the carrot.

Mom and Dad laughed until they cried. And from then on Diana knew: wishing is not scary.

And on Diana's shoulder lived a Little Dragon — tiny, emerald green, with little wings. Only she could see him. When Diana was being herself, the Little Dragon glowed. And when something went wrong, he grew dim.

Diana lived in the Star House on a hill. In the evening its huge windows glowed like a lantern, and tiny stars lit up on the living room ceiling.

From the window of Diana's bedroom, a slide went straight down into the pool. So in summer, mornings began with "WHOOSH!" and "SPLASH!"

In the garden, string lights hung over the whole yard. In a tree stood a little house with a hanging egg chair, on the fence there was a giant board where Diana drew with chalk, and there were so many swings and slides that the neighbors' kids came over as if it were a park. And on the next hill stood the Old Tower. Nobody had gone there for a long, long time.

And in the house also lived Beady — Diana's little sister, with a tuft of hair like a baby bird. Beady climbed everywhere, touched everything and kept the whole house on its toes.

"Agent Beady on a mission!" Diana would announce.

Diana went to a school that looked like a real castle — with towers and long hallways. Everyone there called her teacher the Lesson Fairy.

One day the Lesson Fairy gave everyone a scroll with empty circles.

"Read for ten minutes every evening. And color in a little drop."

But the evenings before Halloween were so much fun! Training, costumes, pumpkins, friends. The scroll hung empty in Diana's room.

"I'll read later," Diana thought every evening. And somewhere outside the window, someone yawned happily.

And one day Diana thought: "I wish it would fill itself in!"

Right away little drops appeared on the scroll. Neat little blue drops. But for some reason, the Little Dragon grew dim.

That night something rustled outside the window.

From the sign of the bakery at the bottom of the hill, the first letter broke off. It flapped its wings like a little bat and flew away into the dark.

Then a second one. Then a third. Then a whole flock.

"Well, that's it," thought Diana. "Halloween started early."

In the morning Diana picked up her backpack. Her name was embroidered on it.

It used to be. Now it said: IANA.

"Iana?" Diana read. "Who's that? Me? Iana-banana!"

And she ran to Dad.

Dad's study was like the control room of a spaceship: a huge chair, his own keyboard and a giant wall-plan. But today letters had fallen out of Dad's plan, and instead of "BUILD A BRIDGE" some gobbledygook was glowing there.

"Are you kidding me?" Dad asked the wall. "What kind of plan is this?!"

And in Mom's Jumpsuit Lab, something even more incredible was happening.

Fabrics of every color hung there, scissors and scraps lay on the table, and in the middle stood a round fitting stand. Mom swiped the screens with her finger, and the jumpsuits tried themselves on anyone she liked.

But today the labels were disappearing from Mom's designs. One jumpsuit lost a sleeve. And the fitting stand mixed everything up and dressed Dad in a pink jumpsuit with bunny ears.

"Never mind," laughed Mom. "At least it's warm."

Diana didn't laugh. Something felt wrong. As if a little pebble had gotten into her shoe.

In the evening Diana and Mom went to the Air Tower. There Diana trained on the aerial silks and the ring, and Mom trained nearby. Tonight there was a Halloween party. Cobwebs and pumpkins hung under the dome, and everyone came in costumes and took photos.

Diana — a little witch-vampire — flew up the silks to the very top of the dome. Mom waved at her from below.

From up there she could see the whole kingdom. Over the rooftops, rustling like dry leaves, a flock of letters was flying. Straight to the Old Tower on the hill.

And letters were disappearing from the "Happy Halloween!" banner too.

And then Diana understood.

In the car Diana said:

"Mom. I understood the truth. I didn't read. The drops drew themselves because I wished for it. And the letters flew away."

"There you go," Mom nodded. "You saw the truth. That means now you can act."

And at that very second, something knocked on the car window. Tap-tap.

It was the letter D — the first letter of her name. It flapped its little wings and flew off toward the Old Tower.

"After it!" shouted Diana.

At home, Dad was already waiting for them at the door. Diana blurted out everything about the letters.

Mom and Dad looked at each other. They loved unusual adventures.

"A night quest!" they said together.

"Agent Beady on a mission," squeaked Beady from her baby carrier. Well, or something like that.

And with pumpkin lanterns, the family climbed up the hill after the little letter D.

The Old Tower smelled of dust and old paper. On a mountain of empty books lay the Old Letter-Eater — huge, shaggy, like a cloud made of pages. And very, very thin.

"Letters hold on thanks to stories that have been read," he rustled. "And Mister Later is carrying them away."

"Who?" asked Diana.

"The fog. He is made of all the 'laters' in the kingdom. 'I'll read later,' 'I'll tidy up later,' 'I'll do it later.' The more 'laters,' the fatter he gets. He isn't evil. He's just terribly lazy. And he loves letters — he hides them inside himself, like in a pillow."

"Every story that is read flies to me like a firefly," sighed the Letter-Eater. "But if Mister Later covers me up on Halloween night, the stories won't reach me. And the letters will stay with him forever."

There were three nights left until Halloween.

"Can I read to you?" asked Diana. "But I read with expression. Sometimes with a LOT of expression."

The Letter-Eater snorted with laughter. A letter landed on his nose.

"But when?" sighed Diana. "I have no time at all."

"Do you hear that?" rustled the Letter-Eater. "That's him whispering to you."

"Sweetie," said Mom. "Is that a fact or an opinion?"

Diana thought. An opinion.

Dad pressed his phone, and a big glowing screen slid out of it — right into the air. Dad swiped it with his fingers:

"Then let's make a plan. One small task."

Diana wrote it herself: "Ten minutes before bed."

And outside the window, the fog huffed unhappily.

On the first night they came home late from training. Diana's arms ached and her eyes kept closing.

And then a grey fog crept in through the gap under the window. Soft, warm, sleepy.

"La-a-ater," it whispered. "You're tired. Read la-a-ater..."

Diana yawned. And then she narrowed her eyes:

"Later — when is that? We made a deal. Now."

And she opened a book about a wooden boy named Pinocchio.

The fog squeaked and got a little smaller.

And Dad sat down on the floor next to her.

"He visited me today too," said Dad. "I was lazy about my workout. It's true. I'll do it now — and ten more on top, so I remember next time."

And he did push-ups while Diana read. Beady rode on his back.

The fog looked at them, got offended and crawled into the corner.

In the morning, the first letter returned to the bakery sign.

On the second night everyone went to bed on time. Diana climbed into her blanket fort with the book, and Pinocchio had just got into such a story that she couldn't let go of the pages.

The fog peeked out of the corner:

"La-a-ater..."

But Diana didn't even hear it.

Ten minutes passed.

"Mom," Diana whispered. "Can I read more? I want to know what happens next!"

Pinocchio popped out of the book and winked: "Keep reading. The funniest part is coming."

And the fog shrank to the size of a pillow.

In the morning the labels came back to Mom's designs. And the sleeve. And on Dad's wall — the whole plan, letter by letter.

The third day was a weekend.

"Listen," said Mom. "We have time now. Shall we read during the day instead of leaving it for the evening?"

"Yes!" said Diana.

Somewhere under the sofa the fog squeaked and shrank to the size of a cat.

They read in the garden, in the hanging egg chair under the tree house. Beady tried to eat a corner of the blanket. And suddenly Diana turned the page, and there were no more pages.

"Mom... Did I read the WHOLE book?!" Diana's eyes went wide.

"Can you imagine?" Mom smiled. "And you weren't even planning to. If we had said at the very beginning, 'You have to read a whole book,' what would you have said?"

"Oh, that's so hard! Never ever!"

"But we just took tiny little steps. Ten minutes at a time. And we got somewhere we weren't even planning to go."

Diana looked at the thick book. Then at Mom. And smiled slyly:

"So you can do anything that way. Even something huge."

Mom scooped her up in a big hug:

"Well, that's it. Now I can't bite this lazy bum anymore. This bum isn't lazy!"

"You can still bite it," Diana laughed.

And in the evening, Halloween came. And something terrible happened.

From all over the kingdom, the "laters" crawled toward the Old Tower. "I'll tidy my toys later." "I'll do my homework later." "I'll call Grandma later." Mister Later gathered them up like a snowball, and he grew. And grew. And grew into a giant grey fog that reached the sky.

The fog wrapped around the Old Tower like a blanket. Pumpkins on the streets went out one after another. Neither the letters nor the stories could get through.

The Little Dragon on Diana's shoulder trembled and almost went out.

"What if it doesn't work?" Diana whispered.

And then she remembered the carrot.

Wishing is not scary. You have to wish — and go.

"I want the letters to come back," said Diana. "And I'm going."

Dad crouched down in front of her and looked at her very seriously:

"This is a dangerous mission. It needs a real hero. Someone who knows she can do it."

"I can do it," said Diana.

"Then we're with you," said Dad. "All together."

Dad lifted her onto the ivy. Mom held the lantern up high. Beady gave a stern order from her carrier: "Ah-ah!" — which in agent language means "Go!"

And Diana climbed up the wall of the tower. As nimbly as on the silks in the Air Tower. One hand, then the other. The Little Dragon flew beside her and lit her way — brighter with every step she took.

At the very top, Diana stood right in the middle of the fog and shouted:

"Hey, Mister Later! Later — when is that? NOW!"

And she opened Pinocchio to her favorite page. And she began to read. Out loud. With expression. With a LOT of expression.

Her voice flew over the kingdom. Down below, Mom and Dad joined in — they read out loud too, whatever they could remember. And then the children heard. Someone opened their book. Then someone else. Then everyone at once. A hundred voices rang out over the town.

Every word that was read lit up like a little lantern. And the fog melted.

Mister Later got smaller, smaller, smaller... until he turned into a tiny little cloud. The little cloud sneezed and flew down. Straight to Beady.

"Agent Beady on a mission!" shouted Diana. "Capture!"

And Agent Beady caught the little cloud in a jar. Personally.

And stories from all over the kingdom flew into the Old Tower like fireflies. The Old Letter-Eater was finally full. He puffed up like a cloud at sunrise, laughed — and let the letters go home. The pumpkins lit up again. Halloween was saved.

Mister Later now lives on Diana's shelf, in a jar. He isn't evil. Sometimes everyone needs a rest — and then Diana lets him out for a little while. But only for a little while.

In the morning, her backpack said DIANA again.

"Too bad," said Diana. "Iana-banana was kind of nice too."

And she wished for the letters to become so beautiful that everyone would want to read them. The signs lit up blue, orange and turquoise.

Whatever you truly wish for will come true.

Sooner or later. One way or another.

Just wish — and walk that way.

In tiny little steps.

As they said goodbye, the Letter-Eater whispered to Diana:

"Be careful. Wishes made in anger come true too."

Back then, Diana didn't understand what he meant.

She will understand very soon.