In a town by a lake lived Zosia. She liked to listen to the island of reeds humming. Her grandmother said that there used to be dragons here. Zosia didn't believe it, but she liked fairy tales. One morning she found a strange egg by the shore. It was warm and gently glowed like a torch. She hid it in her backpack and ran home. The egg purred when Zosia touched the backpack. - Hello, little one, who are you? - she whispered softly. Grandma raised an eyebrow and handed over an old map. - 'This is a sign from Cloud Island,' she said. On the map was a path deep into the reeds. Go before sunset, because dragons like evening mists. Zosia packed a torch, a sandwich and a yellow coat. The water was whispering and the sky was turning pink. On the island, the grass was wet with mist. Zosia found silver scales and round tracks. The egg in her backpack clattered once, then a second time. - I'm already here - she whispered into the rucksack. A breeze came out of the reeds and extinguished the torch. A large, silent shadow moved over the water. The shell cracked and something blew hot air. Zosia lifted her gaze as the reeds suddenly parted.