Little Hania lived above her grandmother's old bookshop. She enjoyed stacking books and rubbing off the dust. One rainy morning she found a strange volume. The cover was as warm as fresh tea. A paper star glowed on the spine. Hania blew and the star shone brighter. A feather and a small map fell out of the book. The map showed a bridge made of clouds. Underneath, someone had written: Open me today. Hania glanced at the door, her grandmother was gone. Hania unfolded the pages and whispered: Hello, book. The letters danced like lights and formed a gate. A little owl in a hat came out through the gate. The bell around her neck trembled and sounded. - My name is Feathers, are you looking for the bridge of the clouds? - Hania nodded and took the map firmly. The gate rustled and smelled of rain and baked apple. The floor turned to soft clouds underfoot. - 'Step to the right, just now,' squealed the owl. Hania took a step and the shelves began to move. From the other side she heard someone's quick tapping. Something flashed in the clouds just at the threshold of the gate. The bell went silent and the air stopped breathing. And then someone's gloved hand slipped out from behind the light....