Introduction: The Midnight Awakening

The workshop smelled of sleepy dust, and the faint, sweet scent of sheep’s wool.

On the vast plains of the oak desk, the Great Lamp finally clicked off. Its dying hum left a silence so heavy you could almost hear the fluff of wool in the air settling into place. The Maker had gone to bed, leaving behind a landscape of silver pins, wooden spools and a half-finished cup of tea that looked, from a certain perspective, like a deep ceramic lake.

For a long time, nothing moved. The creatures stood exactly where they had been placed: a mouse with a tilted head, a giraffe with long eyelashes and a monkey made of the finest chocolate brown wool. They were cute little thing but they were just things. But on this, the shortest day of the year, the nights are long enough for big adventures to happen on a very small scale. 

Then, the clock in the hallway struck twelve. 

It wasn't a loud sound, but it carried a vibration that travelled through the floorboards, up the legs of the desk, and into the wire skeletons of the tiny creatures.

Barnaby, the mouse, felt it first. It started as a tickle in his felted tail. He didn’t mean to move, but his lungs —which had been nothing but compacted wool a moment ago— gave a sudden, soft huff. A tiny cloud of dust escaped his nose. He blinked. His eyes were only black glass beads, yet suddenly, the world rushed in: the towering cliffs of books, the glittering forest of pens, and the terrifying, vast shadows of the room.

He looked to his left. A few inches away, a giraffe sat frozen, its long neck reaching toward a shelf it could never touch. Barnaby saw the giraffe’s ear twitch.

To a human, they were toys only. To Barnaby, the desk was a kingdom, and he was currently the only soul awake in a world of giants. He wanted to call out, to ask if anyone else’s heart was suddenly drumming against their ribs, but his throat was dry.

Slowly, tentatively, he lifted one paw. The wood of the desk felt cold and ancient beneath him.

The secret life of the desk had begun, and for the first time, the handmade were about to discover who they were when no one was watching.