Mira's boots thudded up the spiral stairs, higher and higher, until—there he was. Ember! Curled around the great lamp, scales glowing like coals in a fire. 'You're real,' she whispered. Ember blinked his soft amber eyes... then a cloud slid over the moon, and his whole body went stiff with worry.

Every night, Nana Lou turned the lamp down low to polish its glass. Every night, Ember curled his tail over his eyes, humming, 'Not dark, not dark.' Mira knew that feeling—she kept her own tiny flashlight under her pillow. She took his claw gently. 'Little light, shine so bright—every light helps light the night,' she whispered, and his humming softened.

'I have an idea!' Mira said. 'The lamp should never, ever dim again!' Nana Lou raised an eyebrow, but Mira was already tugging the lever. 'Just watch!' The flame roared bigger and brighter. Ember uncurled, delighted. 'Little light, shine so bright—every light helps light the night,' Mira sang, certain she'd fixed everything for good.

Night after night, the lamp blazed without rest. Ember stopped trembling, humming happy little tunes instead. Mira beamed with pride. But Nana Lou kept glancing at the oil gauge, murmuring, 'Slow and steady, love—even the brightest flame needs rest.' Far past the cliffs, dark clouds began to gather, quiet as a secret.

Then the storm struck—rain hammering the windows, wind howling around the tower. With a sputter and a hiss, the lamp ran completely dry. Darkness swallowed the whole lighthouse. Somewhere out on the wild, black sea, a ship's horn cried out, lost and alone. And then—everything went silent.

Ember tried to breathe one giant flame all by himself, but fear choked the fire in his throat. Nothing came. 'Not dark, not dark,' he whimpered. Mira crawled across the cold stone floor, blind in the blackness, heart pounding just as hard as his—until her fingers brushed something small and familiar in her overalls pocket.

Instead of asking Ember to be brave all alone, Mira clicked on her little flashlight. Its small beam glowed steady beside his trembling spark. 'Just watch,' she whispered—softer this time. Together, their two small lights touched the wick. Flame bloomed bright! The great beam swept out across the churning sea—straight to the lost little ship.

The storm settled as the great light swept steadily over the waves. Nana Lou dashed up the stairs, soaked through, smiling with relief. She wrapped Mira and Ember both in a big hug. 'Slow and steady, love,' she laughed. Ember's scales glowed warm and calm once more, humming softly, safe.

Back in her cozy attic room, Mira looked at the little flashlight she'd always hidden under her pillow. Not this time. She carried it to the window and clipped it right onto the sill, where anyone could see it shine. 'Little light, shine so bright—every light helps light the night,' she whispered, smiling.

Below her window, Ember curled on the rooftop, humming his steady, happy hum. Two small lights glowed through the night—Mira's little flashlight and the lighthouse beam sweeping far out to sea. Little light, shine so bright—every light helps light the night. And under both soft glows, the whole town drifted safely off to sleep.