In the town of Podgwiezdne, on a lane full of chestnuts, stood a house with green shutters. In this house lived seven-year-old Lilka, her younger brother Jas and a brindle cat called Raven. It was a Saturday morning after the rain. The drops still clung to the leaves and the puddles smelled like strawberries and wet grass. Lilka put the pot of beans on the windowsill and reached for the watering can. The watering can was heavier than usual, as if someone had thrown pebbles from the rainbow inside. - 'Jasiu, look,' whispered Lilka, peering inside. Johny stood on tiptoe. From inside the watering can flashed something colourful, so smooth it looked like a ribbon. It was warm, and when Lilka touched it with her finger, there was a quiet sound: shoo. - 'I think it's... a piece of sky,' whispered Johnny with round eyes. They pulled out the find carefully. It was a rainbow, but not the kind in the sky. It curled and unfurled like a strip of colour, soft and springy. The raven sniffed it seriously, sneezed quietly and sat down, as if guarding the treasure. - 'Mum says the rainbow can't be touched because it's too far away,' said Lilka. - 'But this one came to us. Maybe she wants it to be developed? They spread the rainbow out on the checked carpet. The colours shimmered, and each had a scent: yellow like a lemon muffin, green like fresh cucumbers, blue like a cool breeze by the lake. When Lilka pulled gently on the tip, the rainbow rose into the air and... did not fall. - Oh dear - sighed Jas. - She is growing! The rainbow shot upwards, as if seeking the ceiling. It stopped just below the lamp, then bent in a gentle arc and began to form steps. Real, soft steps of red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple. Raven stepped with her paw onto the first step and murmured: brrr-brrr. Lilka touched her foot to the red. It was as warm as tea on a cold day. Johnny put his hand on the blue and it jumped all the way up. - Can you feel it? - He asked. - It's like I'm being tickled by a cloud. Steps led from the carpet to something that hadn't been in the room before. On the wall, between the bookshelf and the clock, a rectangle of light appeared. It was neither a window nor a picture. It shimmered, as if someone was shaking a jar full of skylights inside. - 'It looks like a door,' Lilka said in a whisper. - A door made of morning. There was a thin sound from inside, a little like a bicycle bell, and then like a quiet splash. Raven tuned her ears. A golden speck of light on the carpet moved a step, as if inviting. - Do you think there's... um... something to see? - Jas asked and swallowed his saliva. Lilka looked around the room. Everything was ordinary: the crayons in the jar, the polka dot cup, Jas's socks under the armchair. Only the steps from the colours and the door from the light said: "Come in". - I'll just have a peek," she decided at last. - Just a tiny bit. She climbed up two steps. The colours smelled more and more distinct: orange like orange peel, purple like the flowers on her neighbour's balcony. Up close, the light from the door was soft, not blinding. At its edge, a handle had just sprung up. It was transparent, like ice candy, but tiny sparks swirled inside. - Lilka... - spoke up Johnny, very quietly. - What if there is... wind on the other side? - Then we'll hold hands tightly,' she said. - And we'll listen. They shook hands. Raven jumped onto the third step and hung her tail in the air like an antenna. For a moment it was so quiet that all you could hear was the clock: tick-tock, tick-tock. And then, from the depths of the luminous doorway, a whisper reached them. Thin at first, like the wings of a butterfly, and immediately afterwards a clearer, warm voice: - Hello... is someone standing there? Lilka looked at Jas. Jas nodded his head. The door handle flickered more, as if waiting. At the same moment something knocked on the other side: once, twice, three times. The steps trembled and the colours curled into tiny swirls. Lilka took a breath and stretched her fingers towards the door handle, when suddenly....