Marek wandered around the empty streets of the town for a long time before he came to the old Bernard Street. It was well after midnight, and the whole area seemed asleep - except for the lamp posts. These old cast-iron lamps not only glowed with amber light, but seemed to... whisper. At first Marek shook his head, thinking it was just the sound of the wind. But the six-year-old light on the right winked inviting him closer, and then he recognised the distinct voices. "He can see us," whispered the first lamp, flare stronger, as if it had reddened. "He asked about the old Watchmaker," replied the second, its light trembling slightly. Marek felt his heart beating harder. Had he really heard the words? He stopped under a lamp with a rusty base. From within it came a deep, melodious voice: "Not everyone gets here, boy. Not everyone knows how to listen. If you're looking for the Clockmaker, you must be ready for answers. But before you move on, answer - why do you want to know Bernard's secrets?" At that moment, all the lamps flashed simultaneously, illuminating Mark's face. Something in him told him to speak the truth, though he didn't yet know who - or what - was actually listening. The creaking of a metal door sounded from afar, and the echo carried a quiet, warning whisper: "He already knows you're here..." And then a disturbing sound pierced the street - someone's footsteps were coming towards him. Marek held his breath, wondering whether he should stay and find out the secret, or run blindly into the night....