In the town of Niteka, the houses were the colours of candy canes, and after the rain, the streets smelled of grass and cocoa. Hania lived in a yellow house, the one with leaf-shaped windows. She had wellies with white clouds, a yellow umbrella with sunflowers, and Filcek the cat, brindle like freshly baked bread. That morning the storm had already subsided. The sun came out from behind a cloud and winked at the puddles. Hania clapped her hands. "Come on, Filcek! We'll go look for glass that shines like stars." The cat purred and jumped onto the windowsill and then onto Hania's shoulders, as he liked best. On the market square, puddles were arranged in shapes: here a heart, there a mushroom, and just by the bakery, a large, round mirror of water. Above it hung a sign with croissants and a bay leaf. There was the smell of cinnamon from the oven, and the water under the signboard trembled quietly, as if listening to music. Hania crouched down. In the great puddle, the usual sky was not visible. Instead of clouds, lights were streaming across it. And suddenly – oh my! – a staircase flashed beneath the surface. Downwards. Of bright tiles that glittered like snowflakes in the sunlight. "Can you see it, Filcek?" she whispered. The cat turned his head, touched the water with his paw and froze. A soft "plim" flowed from the puddle, just like a bell. The circles diverged gently, and the steps became seemingly clearer. By the kerb, right next to Hania's wellington boots, lay a key. Tiny, golden, with a pendant in the shape of a sun. Hania picked it up carefully. It was warm, as if it had been lying in the lap of the sun. "Where did you come from?" she muttered and held the key in her hand. Filcek drew in air with his nose. "Mrau," he said with solemnity, as if the key smelled of vanilla and strawberries. A breeze swept through the market. The water in the big puddle trembled and sang once more: "plim-plim-plim." Mrs Pelagia came out of the bakery with a basket of buns and waved to Hania. "The world gets more interesting after it rains, doesn't it?" she called out. Hania nodded her head. Her eyes were as wide as two buttons. A paper boat appeared on the water. It sailed over the edge of the puddle, did a pirouette turn and stopped by the tip of Hania's wellington. On the side of the boat someone had drawn a tiny sun with a pencil – the same as on the key. Hania blew lightly and the boat turned and showed a small strip of paper with letters on the underside. "Knock three times." "I think it's for you, Filcek," laughed Hania, but her heart was beating faster. She picked up the umbrella and, holding the key in her fingers, touched the water with the end of her hand. Once. "Plim." A second time. "Plim." A third time. "Pluuuum." The puddle staircase lit up so brightly that Hania could even see the handrail – it looked like it was made of a string of pearls and raindrops. There was a whiff of warmth from the depths. It smelled of strawberries and fresh bread. Filcek laid his ears back, but not out of fear – out of concentration. "Mrau," he said, which in Hania's case meant: "I hear something else." And indeed he did. From below, from under the puddle, came a soft voice. "Oh, finally! Please don't trample the fish in your pockets," it giggled. Hania glanced at the cat. "Who was that?" The cat moved his whiskers as if to say, "Someone very kind." On the first step, just below the surface, something shimmered. It wasn't a pebble. It was a lantern. Tiny, golden, with a thin handle. It floated gently, as if waiting. Hania croaked. The lantern responded with a flicker, and the stairs now seemed solid like a real footbridge. "Maybe it's the stairs to the rain library?" whispered Hania. "Or to the giggle shop?" Filcek rolled over onto his back in satisfaction, as if each of these places was completely up to his paw. Hania slipped the key into her jacket pocket. She felt it tremble – lightly, like the heart of a hummingbird. "Do you think it fits anything down there?" she asked the cat. Filcek peeked into her pocket and purred with a sound like "yes". Hania cautiously touched the tip of her wellingtons to the first step. The water did not ripple at this point. It was as smooth as glass. "Hello?" she called down. The echo answered: "Haaa-looo..." and turned into a giggle that enveloped Hania like a soft scarf. A clock rang over the market: ding, dong, ding. The puddles in other places blinked, but only the one by the bakery shone so brightly. On the bank, under a maple leaf, a paper boat waited, as if ready for a new journey. "If we go, we'll be back before afternoon," said Hania, although she herself was not sure that time under the puddles ran its usual course. Filcek picked himself up, shrugged and set himself beside her foot. His eyes were like two green balloons ready to fly away. Hania raised her umbrella and bit her lip. For a moment she listened still for someone to call her from the window. Silence. Only the sun licked the roofs and the water rang quietly like jewellery in a box. She took a deep breath. She reached out over the puddle. The luminous steps invited her with a slight flash, and the lantern beneath the surface rose higher, like a skylight that knows the password to a secret piece of heaven. "Ready, Filcek?" With a feline step, the cat approached the shore and touched the shiny railing with his nose. At the same moment, the water shook and a soft... knock sounded. One. Two. Three. And then a whisper, soft as a feather, came from the depths: "Hania... I'm opening... now..."