Kelly kicked off her sandals and ran across the wet sand. Splash, splash, went the little waves around her toes. The moon hung low and round above the water, bright as a silver lantern. Kelly laughed and held up her seashell bucket. She loved the beach at night, when everything felt quiet and soft.

Her grandmother sat on a blanket nearby, folding towels. “Not too far,” Grandmother called in a gentle voice.

“I’ll stay close!” Kelly said.

She twirled once, then bent to look into a tide pool. Tiny crabs hid under rocks. Seaweed swayed like green ribbons. Then Kelly saw something new.

A sparkle.

Not a star in the sky. Not a shell in the sand.

A tiny fish, no bigger than Kelly’s hand, floated there. Its scales shone white and blue. Its tail flickered like moonlight.

Kelly’s eyes grew wide. “Hello?” she whispered.

The fish blinked. Yes, blinked. Then it made the smallest, sweetest splash.

“Come and see,” said the fish.

Kelly sat down with a plop. “You can talk!”

The fish gave a shining wiggle. “I am a moonfish. I only appear at night. Come and see.”

Kelly felt excited, but her tummy felt wiggly too. She looked back at Grandmother’s blanket. It was still close, a cozy square on the shore.

“Will it be scary?” Kelly asked.

The moonfish swam in a little circle. “Only secret. Not scary. I will stay with you.”

That made Kelly feel better. She touched the water with one toe. It was cool and smooth. “All right,” she said.

The moonfish darted into the shallow sea. Kelly followed, stepping carefully. The water reached her ankles, then her knees. Moonlight made a silver road on the waves.

“Come and see,” sang the moonfish.

Kelly smiled and said it too. “Come and see.”

First, the moonfish led her to a garden under the water.