Page 67 of The Book of Lost Hours

L ISAVET L EVY HAD NOT been inside the time space for thirteen years.

It greeted her like an old friend, the whispers of Time coming to meet her as they had the first time she had entered.

She felt the familiarity of this place settling into her very bones.

The silence and stillness were as they had always been.

The shelves she had called home, unchanged.

The mesmerizing stars overhead swirled like a beacon, stopping her in her tracks.

She had to brace herself against a shelf as memories swept in and out like a violent tide.

Her breath shook. And then she heard him.

“Welcome back, child,” Azrael’s voice said. She turned to find him standing where the door had once been. “You’ve been gone so very long.”

She let out a gasp. “Azrael.”

“Hello, Lisavet. I’ve missed you.”

Tears came, even though she tried to stop them. If Azrael was here, then she still had time.

“Is Amelia…”

“She’s fine,” Azrael reassured her. “I’ve been looking after her for you. But so has that Russian boy. He seems quite fond of her, in fact.”

“And… is she…” She hesitated, not knowing what it was she was trying to ask.

“Angry with you?” Azrael said, putting words to what she couldn’t. “I don’t believe so. Though that might have changed since I left her. I took the liberty of showing her what’s going on.”

Lisavet felt herself go pale. “So… she knows?”

“Everything. Yes. Now… can I ask what it is you’ve come to do?”

Lisavet suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “We… we’re here to fix it. To seal off the time space from interference.”

“Ahhh,” Azrael said with a grim smile. “So that is what finally brought you home.”

Lisavet’s lip trembled like a child’s would. He understood. And he didn’t hold anything she’d done up until now against her.

“Do you know where Ernest is?” she asked.

“I believe he’s found Amelia. Perhaps we ought to give them a minute?”

She nodded. Time is what Ernest needed. Maybe seeing their daughter would even change his mind. Everything else could wait.

“You should hide until then,” she said to Azrael. “Just… stay close to me.”

He smiled at her. “I always have,” he said before fading into blackness.

Lisavet took a deep breath. She was still holding her revolver, her palms sliding against the metal.

She had time. She walked slowly, drinking it all in.

Her father’s old coat enveloped her, making her feel every age she’d ever been all at once.

Suddenly she was eleven, nineteen, twenty-six, and thirty-eight.

She wasn’t paying attention to anything in front of her, only staring up at the ceiling full of stars.

That was how he managed to get the gun out of her hand.

She felt a hand close on her wrist. Before she could turn around, he kicked the back of her knees, twisting the gun away as she went down.

The metal pressed into her temple. In the past five years she’d made a point of learning how to get out of such situations quite easily. But then she saw who it was.

Anton Stepanov glared down at her, looking for all the world as desperate, angry, and terrified as his father had been.

“Do not move,” he said fiercely.

She raised her hands, staying on her knees. Anton shifted. Now that he had her there, he seemed unsure of what to do.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

“Of course I do,” she said in a calm voice. Trying not to let him see her shaking. She had been wrong when she assumed he would target Amelia to seek revenge for his father. But that didn’t apply to her.

“You do not look afraid,” he said.

“You are not the first Russian to hold me at gunpoint,” Lisavet replied with perfect coolness.

This only made him angry. “You will not fight back?” he asked, pressing the gun harder against her skull. His whole hand was trembling.

She shook her head slowly. “No. I’m not going to fight you. You have every right to kill me if that’s what you want.”

The gun wavered slightly. She could take it now if she wanted to. But she waited.

“You murdered my father,” he said.

“I did. I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice. He would have killed me. It was me or him.”

“No. I do not believe that. My father was a good man. He would not have done that.”

“Even good people make desperate decisions when trying to do what’s best,” Lisavet said.

“He was thinking of you. You and your sisters. He would have done anything to get back to you alive, even if it meant killing me. I forgave him for that a long time ago. But he knew things about my daughter that put her at risk.” She saw a flicker in his eyes and knew that he knew.

“I didn’t want to kill him. I was only thinking of her. ”

“Why should I believe that?”

Lisavet moved quickly, disarming him and taking back her gun in two practiced moves. She rose to her feet, raising it level with his head instead. “Because I haven’t killed you yet,” she said, then flipped the handle of the gun around, handing it back to him. He took it, looking skeptical.

“Listen to me,” she said. “Ernest is here. He’s here, and he’s about to do something stupid. I need you to help me.”

Anton rolled his jaw, mulling it over. “We all fought for you. My father fought for you. I do not want to fight for you anymore. You are not who we all thought you were.”

Lisavet studied him. He was still so young. He’d become a Russian agent at just about the same age she had been trapped in here, forced into it, trained to obey orders. That was on her head too.

“Then don’t. Help me put an end to all this.” She gestured to the revolver. “Or shoot me now. I won’t hold it against you.”

For a moment, she thought he might do it. She was a beacon he’d fought for, costing him his friends, his family, his entire life as he’d known it. And she didn’t measure up. Didn’t deserve it. Anton handed the gun back to her.

“I am not a killer like you,” he said tensely. “I will help. But not for you. For her. For Ernest.”

She let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

“So what is it we are doing?”

She hesitated, knowing he might change his mind. She removed the watch from her wrist and lifted the crown. She spun it three times but didn’t push it back down to trigger the door. Instead, she offered it to him.

“What is this for?” he asked, eyeing it skeptically.

“Take it,” she said. “I’ll explain the rest on the way.”

A MELIA FELT Uncle Ernest slide something into her palm. His watch. She looked down at it, frowning.

“Amelia…” he began carefully. “I need you to take this and leave the time space. Go find Anton and take him with you, okay?”

“Aren’t you coming?”

He bit his lip. “No. I’m going to stay here. There’s something I need to take care of.”

“But… won’t you be trapped?”

“Yes.”

Amelia began to protest but he cut her short.

“I know. I know,” Uncle Ernest said. “But listen to me. Lisavet… your mother… she’s waiting for you on the other side of the door.”

“I don’t understand, what will happen to you?”

“She’ll explain it when you get there. But I need to stay here, okay. And I need to know you and Anton are safe.”

Amelia shook her head. “No. I’m not leaving you here.”

“Amelia, listen to me…”

“No, Amelia. Don’t listen to him.”

Both of them turned their heads. Amelia’s breath caught in her throat.

Moira or Lisavet, or whatever she was supposed to call her, was standing alone down the center aisle.

The shirt she had on was Uncle Ernest’s, and she was wearing a worn brown man’s coat that Amelia recognized from the memories.

She was staring at Ernest, an expression of betrayal etched across her face.

“Lisavet,” Ernest said. To Amelia’s surprise, he took her by the arm and moved her behind him.

“Ernest, you can’t do this,” Lisavet was saying.

“Do what?” Amelia asked.

“Nothing. I…”

“He’s going to sacrifice himself to seal off the time space,” Lisavet said, her eyes brimming with anger.

“W-what?” Amelia asked, looking at her uncle.

“Lisavet, what are you doing here?”

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to do this,” Lisavet snapped. The tone of her voice was one Amelia recognized. More like Moira than the girl from the memories. “You said we would find another way.”

“There is no other way!”

“Uncle Ernest…” Amelia said hesitantly.

He turned to look at her, putting both hands on her shoulders. “Amelia. Please try to understand this. I’m trying to protect you.”

“By leaving me behind?”

“No, I…”

“Amelia,” Lisavet said, cutting him off again. When they looked back at her, she was holding the silver gun, pointing it directly at Uncle Ernest’s head. “Get away from him.”

“Lisavet…” he said, his voice trembling in disbelief.

“No!” Amelia shouted. “What are you doing!”

“Amelia,” she snapped, still watching Ernest. “Please. Move away.”

A tense silence passed between Lisavet and Ernest. Amelia felt his hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her down the aisle back in the direction of the chasm. Shielded between two shelves. She tried desperately to grab his arm, but he pushed her away.

“Stay there,” he said. He tried to move out of sight, but she shifted, keeping both him and her mother in her line of sight.

“Do you really want to do this?” Ernest asked, taking a step toward Lisavet. “Are you really going to resort to shooting me?”

“No, of course not. I just needed Amelia out of the way for this next part.” She lowered the gun. “Anton!”

Amelia only had a moment to be confused before Anton stepped out from in between the nearby shelves.

He barreled toward her uncle and seized him from behind, twisting both of his arms behind him.

One of his hands pressed down on the crown of a slim, white-gold watch.

Moira’s watch. Ernest attempted to free himself, but Anton held fast and began dragging him back through the door that appeared before them.

“Anton, stop!” Amelia said, rushing forward.