A storm rumbled over the town as Maja climbed the tower of the town hall. She was fourteen, her pockets full of batteries and a question bigger than her fear. Did the old clock really keep time, as her great-grandmother had written in a letter? The spiral staircase creaked and the dust danced in flashes, as if counting the seconds to midnight. Upstairs, Olek was already waiting, with a backpack of cables and an old metronome from his grandfather. - 'You're two minutes late,' he whispered, raising the metronome to his ear. - 'Maybe that's enough for the clock to like us and time to let go.' Half the dial was off, revealing an interior full of wheels, springs and strange wires. Instead of hours, the brass panel was ruled by numbers arranged in years: 1901, 1956, 2029. A keyhole glittered in the middle, in the shape of a comet speeding through the night. Maja pulled a small key from her pocket, found in her great-grandmother's box. On the handle was engraved the phrase: Don't ask time, pull it gently. Olek nodded and lifted the torch, which trembled like a heart at the start. As the key slid into the comet, the air thickened and the hands trembled like strings. The walls clanked with the clank of springs, the pigeons quietened and the raindrops stopped coming from below. Three dates lit up on the panel, flashing like signals: 1893, 1924 and 2124.'If it works, we'll be back before the bell rings,' he said, though his voice trembled. Maya touched 1924, feeling the coldness of the metal and the warmth of words from old letters. The clock banged thirteen times, though it was daylight and the windows darkened as if it were morning. As the world came into focus, an airship glided across the square below, and someone from the darkness said her name. The voice sounded young, but used her family's old name, almost completely forgotten. The clatter of cameras came from below, and people in hats pointed to the tower. Olek squeezed her sleeve and pointed to the clock face, which rearranged the years. Between 1924 and 2124 grew a new date, quivering like a flame: 2037. The second hand suddenly moved backwards, and the metal key began to slip out of the lock.