The Tale of Andrey and his friends. All five books. Children’s fairy tale series

Andrey pressed his nose to the cold glass. Now the drops seemed to him not just water, but tiny particles of magic.

«Where are they now?»

«Right above us,» whispered Katika. «Only they are invisible so as not to scare the adults. But if you ask very nicely, one might come down lower.»

Katika took a tiny whistle made from a straw out of the pocket of his vest. He blew into it, but there was no sound. However, the curtains suddenly swelled as if from a strong wind, although the vent was closed.

In the corner of the room, where the darkness thickened, the air trembled. The familiar silhouette of white vapor appeared. The Whale was smaller than in the wardrobe, the size of a large dog, to fit in the room. It swam slowly through the air, circling the chandelier.

«Hello, little one,» the Whale purred. Its voice vibrated in Andrey’s chest, causing a pleasant tickle.

«Hello,» Andrey replied in a whisper, afraid to scare the guest. «Aren’t you wet?»

«I am made of vapor and clouds,» the Whale chuckled. «Rain is like home to me.»

The Whale swam closer and nudged Andrey’s palm with its soft head. It smelled of ozone, freshness, and wet grass.

«Katika said you were sad?»

«The rain won’t let me go out to play.»

«But rain is needed for flowers to grow,» explained the Whale. «And so the rivers don’t dry up. And also, so children sit at home and listen to fairy tales.»

The Whale made a circle around the room, and its tail left a trail of tiny rainbow sparks behind it, which hung in the air for a few seconds before disappearing.

«I will leave you a gift,» said the Whale.

It opened its mouth, but instead of a sound, it released a small cloud. It flew up to Andrey and dissolved in his hair. The boy felt incredible lightness, as if he could fly himself.

«This is a Cloud of Joy,» explained Katika. «While it is inside you, any weather will be good.»

The Whale slowly dissolved into the air, becoming part of the room’s mist from the rain. The curtains calmed down and hung straight.

«See?» asked Katika, settling on Andrey’s shoulder. «Magic doesn’t depend on the sun. It is in the rain, and in the shadows, and in the whisper of fabric.»

Andrey smiled. He really did feel cheerful. He jumped off the windowsill and began spinning around the room, feeling a small cloud swimming inside him.

«Let’s build a ship out of pillows!» he suggested.

«And sail to the Land of Dreams!» Katika supported.

The rain drummed outside the window, but inside the room it was warm and dry. They built the ship, knowing that even on the gloomiest day, you can find a piece of sky if you have a faithful friend nearby and a little magic.

In the evening, when the rain subsided, Andrey looked out the window, which didn’t open all the way because Dad had installed a special lock so no children would fall out. There were no stars in the sky, but it seemed to him that somewhere behind the clouds, a huge Whale was waving its fin at him, promising to return when night fully took over.

Chapter 5. Silvery Pollen on the Carpet

How Andrey Discovers Traces of His Invisible Friend and Learns That Magic Is Always Near.

Several days had passed since the rainy evening. The sky became blue and clear again, and the sun generously shared its warmth with the earth. Andrey woke up early, as always, and immediately reached his hand to the pillow beside him.

«Katika?» he called quietly.

Silence. Only dust motes danced in a beam of light that had broken through the gap in the curtains. The boy sat up in his crib and looked around the room. The wardrobe stood in place, the blocks were neatly folded into the box, and no small creature in a bell-shaped cap sat on the windowsill.

Andrey felt a little sad. Not the way you feel when you’re scared, but like when you lose something very important. He slid off the bed and stepped barefoot onto the soft pile of the carpet.

And then he noticed them.

In the middle of the room, where he and Katika played most often, tiny sparkles lay on the carpet pile. They were barely noticeable, as if someone had scattered crushed stars there. Andrey squatted down and looked closely. It was that same silvery pollen that Katika left behind when he flew.

The boy carefully ran his finger over the pollen. It didn’t scatter, but softly stuck to his skin, warm and alive. Andrey brought his hand to his nose and sniffed. It smelled of forest, rosehips, and morning light.

«Are you here?» he asked into the emptiness.

There was no voice. But suddenly the pollen on the carpet stirred. It wasn’t just lying there – it was folding into patterns. Here the outline of a wing appeared, here the shape of a bell, and here a little smile.

Andrey understood. Katika hadn’t left. He had just become invisible to the eyes, but visible to the heart.

«I am always nearby, Andrey,» whispered a voice that now sounded not from outside, but directly inside the boy, in his chest, where the Cloud of Joy given by the Whale pulsed warmly. «Magic doesn’t like to sit still. It likes to hide in ordinary things.»

Andrey looked around with a new view.

There was a book on the shelf. If you looked closely, the letters on the cover glowed slightly. There was his favorite cup with milk. The steam above it folded into shapes. Even the shadow from the chair waved at him as he passed by.

«I see,» said Andrey confidently. «I see everything.»

«Now you see,» Katika responded. «Because you have grown. You have learned to be friends with light, with shadows, and with rain. Now you don’t necessarily have to look at me to feel me. I am in your laughter, in your dreams, and in this pollen.»

Andrey gathered some silvery pollen into his fist. It didn’t disappear, but glowed even brighter, illuminating his palm from within.

«I will keep it,» said the boy.

«Keep it,» Katika agreed. «But remember: the main magic is not in the pollen. It is in you. As long as you believe in a miracle, it will live in this room. And in the wardrobe, and under the bed, and in the pockets of your pants.»

There was a knock on the door. Mom entered with a basket of laundry.

«Andryusha, why aren’t you in bed? We are getting dressed now.»

She saw her son standing in the middle of the room with a clenched fist.

«What do you have in your hand, sunshine?»

«A secret,» Andrey smiled.

Mom laughed and came over to kiss the top of his head.

«What a wizard you are. Playing with Katika again?»

Andrey nodded. But now he knew: Katika was not just a friend who comes at night. Katika was part of Andrey himself, his ability to see beauty where others see just things.

«Mom, do you know where the sunbeam bunny goes?» he asked suddenly.

Mom stopped with a sock in her hand.

«Where to?»

«It goes to sleep in the shadows to guard our dreams at night. And in the morning it returns.»

Mom raised her eyebrows in surprise, then smiled softly.

«What a beautiful fairy tale. Did you make it up yourself?»

«Katika helped me,» the boy answered honestly.

He unclenched his fist. The pollen disappeared, dissolving into the air, but the warmth remained. Andrey ran to the window. A small fly sat on the glass, but in the sun’s rays its wings shimmered exactly like Katika’s wings.

«Hello,» Andrey said to the fly.

Mom shook her head, smiling at his imagination, and continued gathering things. She didn’t see the silvery trail that stretched behind her son when he ran to hug her. She didn’t hear the quiet chime of the bell that sounded in unison with the boy’s laughter.

But it doesn’t matter. The main thing is that Andrey knew the truth.

In the evening, when he was put to bed, he didn’t wait for Katika to appear from under the bed. He just closed his eyes and imagined their journey to the Cloud Whale. And immediately he felt the familiar rocking, as if the crib had turned into a boat floating along a starry river.

«Good night, Katika,» he whispered into the darkness.

«Good night, Andrey,» answered a voice from the coziest corner of his heart. «Until tomorrow.»

The first star lit up outside the window. It blinked exactly three times: for Andrey, for Katika, and for all the children who know that magic lives where it is waited for.

And in the corner of the room, on the very edge of the carpet, a tiny silvery spark sparkled again. It was waiting for morning. Because adventures never end, they just pause to gather strength before a new day.

Fairy Tale: Andrey and Katika

Book Two. The Secrets of the Old House

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1. The Gift That Flew Away.

Andrey’s Birthday, the Disappearance of the Most Important Wish, and the Beginning of a New Journey.