Star Ledger

Winged cats were first seen napping on the warm stones of the Star Library’s windows. Their fur is the pink of early morning, and their wings are feathered, with a little gold at every tip.

They fly in short, graceful bursts, from ledge to ledge and shelf to shelf, and always land on their feet, even on a cloud. The librarians say that when a winged cat settles on an open book, it is usually the book you were looking for.

No one knows exactly where winged cats come from, and the cats seem to like it that way. Their gift is curiosity: a winged cat notices what everyone else walks past.

Humming bears live in the flowering gardens of the floating islands. Their fur is soft and light blue, like the sky after rain, and it sparkles in the sun. Their tiny, shimmering wings beat so fast that they hum like hummingbirds.

They sip nectar from the cloud flowers and can hover in one spot for as long as they like, or dart off faster than the eye can follow. Many carry a single star flower wherever they go, and the gardens they visit seem to bloom a little brighter afterward.

Every sighting ends with the same question. Some spotters are sure they saw two bears, one a shade paler and sparklier than the other, always together. Others say it was one bear, moving so quickly from flower to flower that it seemed to be in two places at once. The hum gives no answer: it grows louder when a humming bear is happy, and these bears are always happy. The Lampwrights are still counting, and the bears are not telling.