Barnaby Bristle was the bravest hedgehog in Bramblewick.
At least, that was what he told everyone.
He wore a saucepan as a helmet, carried a wooden spoon as a sword, and marched through the village shouting things such as, “Stand aside! Dangerous hero coming through!”
Barnaby had never fought a monster.
He had once fought a cabbage, but the cabbage had not fought back.
His best friend was a rabbit named Winnifred Wobblefoot. Winnie wore purple boots, collected unusual buttons, and had more common sense in one ear than Barnaby had beneath his entire saucepan.
One morning, the village bell began to clang.
“A dragon!” cried Mayor Turnip. “A dragon has moved into Mount Mumble!”
The villagers gasped.
Mount Mumble stood beyond the berry fields. Smoke had begun puffing from its peak.
“We need a hero,” said the mayor.
Everyone looked at Barnaby.
Barnaby looked behind himself.
“Ah,” he said. “You mean me.”
“You are always saying you are brave,” Winnie whispered.
“That was before anyone listened.”
The mayor handed Barnaby a golden key.
“This opens the ancient dragon cage. Capture the beast and save Bramblewick!”
The villagers cheered.
Barnaby’s stomach became a washing machine full of stones.
Still, he raised his wooden spoon.
“I shall return victorious!”
Winnie packed sandwiches.
“You are not coming,” Barnaby said.
“Of course I am.”
“It may be dangerous.”
“That is why I am bringing two sandwiches.”
They climbed Mount Mumble through a forest of crooked pines. Wind prowled between the trees like an invisible wolf.
Halfway up, they met an elderly snail named Sir Slowsley.
“I have come to slay the dragon,” the snail announced.
Barnaby stared at him.
“How long have you been climbing?”
“Since last Thursday.”
Sir Slowsley joined them.
Near the summit, they heard a terrible roar.
Barnaby’s knees knocked together like two spoons in a drawer.
“Remember,” he said, “I will go first because I am the bravest.”
“You are walking backward,” Winnie pointed out.
They entered the cave.
Inside sat an enormous blue dragon.
His scales shimmered like pieces of midnight sky. His claws were longer than garden rakes, and smoke curled from his nostrils.
Barnaby raised his spoon.
“Prepare to be captured!”
The dragon screamed.
He scrambled behind a rock and covered his head.
“Do not burn me!” he cried.
Barnaby blinked. “Burn you?”
The dragon peered out.
“You have a fire stick.”
“This is a spoon.”
“Oh.”
The dragon emerged slowly.
His name was Cedric.
“Are you planning to burn the village?” Winnie asked.
Cedric looked horrified.
“I am afraid of fire.”
“But you are a dragon,” said Barnaby.
“I know. It is terribly embarrassing.”
Cedric explained that when he was little, his first fiery sneeze had set his birthday cake ablaze. Since then, he had been terrified of his own flame.
“The other dragons laughed at me,” he said. “So I came here to live alone.”
“What about the smoke above the mountain?” Barnaby asked.
“That is from my soup.”
Cedric pointed to an enormous cooking pot bubbling over warm stones.
“I heat everything very slowly.”
Barnaby lowered his spoon.
A dragon afraid of fire was the last thing he had expected.
Then the mountain shook.
Rocks tumbled from the cave ceiling.
A deep rumble rolled through the ground.
Sir Slowsley withdrew into his shell.
“That,” he said from inside, “does not sound promising.”
Cedric’s eyes widened.
“The Fire Eater!”
“What is a Fire Eater?” asked Winnie.
Before Cedric could answer, the back wall of the cave burst open.
A gigantic creature crawled through. It resembled a black lizard made of coal, with a mouth glowing red.
“The Fire Eater lives beneath the mountain,” Cedric explained. “It consumes every flame it finds. Without the mountain’s fire, the valley will freeze.”
The creature swallowed the flames beneath Cedric’s soup pot.
The cave became cold.
Outside, frost spread over the trees. The river stiffened. Snow began falling on the berry fields.
“You must breathe fire at it,” said Barnaby.
“I cannot,” Cedric whispered.
The Fire Eater moved toward them.
Barnaby gripped his spoon.
Fear was a thunderstorm trapped inside his chest.
He wanted to run. But Winnie stood beside him. Sir Slowsley’s shell trembled near his feet. Cedric looked more frightened than anyone.
Barnaby realized something surprising.
Bravery was not a shiny medal worn by someone without fear. It was a candle carried by someone walking through fear.
He charged.
“Leave my friends alone!”
Barnaby struck the Fire Eater’s toe with his wooden spoon.
The spoon snapped.
The creature barely noticed.
“Excellent attack,” said Winnie. “Do you have another?”
“No.”
Winnie threw her button collection across the cave floor. The Fire Eater stepped on them and slipped.
Sir Slowsley crawled directly into its path.
“Stop!” Barnaby cried.
The creature lowered its head toward the tiny snail.
Sir Slowsley slowly lifted one eye.
“I may not be fast,” he said, “but I can still stand in the right place.”
His courage was an oak tree growing inside a body no bigger than a teacup.
Cedric stared.
The Fire Eater opened its mouth.
“Cedric!” shouted Barnaby. “We need you!”
“I will burn everyone!”
“No,” Winnie said. “You may save everyone.”
Cedric shook so hard that his scales rattled.
Barnaby climbed onto the dragon’s nose.
“I am afraid too,” he said.
“You are?”
“Terribly.”
“But you attacked that monster.”
“I attacked its toe with a spoon. That was not an excellent plan.”
Cedric almost smiled.
Barnaby looked into the dragon’s enormous golden eyes.
“Fear is a shadow,” he said. “It looks like a giant until we turn toward the light.”
The Fire Eater lunged.
Cedric inhaled.
He remembered his burning birthday cake. He remembered the dragons laughing. He remembered years of hiding.
Then he looked at Barnaby, Winnie, and Sir Slowsley.
Friendship was a rope thrown across the deepest pit.
Cedric grabbed it.
He breathed.
At first, only a spark appeared.
Then a flame.
Then a roaring river of blue fire poured through the cave.
The Fire Eater swallowed greedily.
“Keep going!” shouted Winnie.
Cedric breathed more fire.
The creature swallowed and swallowed until its belly glowed white.
“Is this working?” Barnaby asked.
“I hope so,” said Winnie.
The Fire Eater began to swell.
Its eyes bulged.
With a tremendous hiccup, it shot backward through the wall and flew into the sky like a blazing comet.
It landed far beyond the mountains, where it became a harmless hill of warm black stones.
Cedric’s fire flowed into the heart of Mount Mumble. The frost melted. The river danced free. Spring rolled back across the valley like a green carpet.
The villagers came running.
“The dragon saved us!” cried Mayor Turnip.
“So did Barnaby!” said Winnie.
Barnaby removed his dented saucepan.
“I did not defeat the monster.”
“No,” said Sir Slowsley. “But you helped a friend defeat his fear.”
Cedric was invited to live in Bramblewick.
He opened a bakery, though his first few pies were slightly overcooked. His cinnamon buns became famous throughout the valley.
Sir Slowsley was appointed Chief of Thoughtful Decisions, a position at which he excelled because he never rushed.
Winnie started a school where young animals learned practical bravery, emergency sandwich packing, and the many uses of buttons.
Barnaby received a new wooden spoon from the mayor.
Across its handle were carved the words:
A TRUE HERO DOES NOT NEED TO PRETEND.
From then on, Barnaby no longer announced that he was the bravest hedgehog in Bramblewick.
He did not need to.
Whenever someone was afraid, Barnaby sat beside them and told the truth.
“I know what fear feels like,” he said. “It is a loud lion, but sometimes it has no teeth.”
And high above the village, Cedric sent friendly rings of smoke into the sky, reminding everyone that the very thing we fear may become the gift that saves the day.