The summer had been dry, and the fireflies had disappeared. Their lights had flickered out one by one, until only a single firefly remained. She hid in the deep shade of an old fern, her glow faint, her wings tired.
The fairies gathered, worried. "Without fireflies, the night will be dark. The flowers will not know when to close."
A young fairy named Glimmer, with hair like starlight and wings like spider silk, knelt beside the last firefly.
"Why are you dying?" she asked.
The firefly's light pulsed weakly. "The pond has dried. We need water to breed. There is no water left."
G