Chapter 5: The Clockmaker's Legacy

The train to Prague was slower than Emma expected. Every stop seemed to take forever, and the ticking of her watch grew louder with each passing hour. 19 days left.

The box sat on the seat beside her, wrapped in the same old sweater. The lion-shaped key felt warm in her pocket, as if alive. Emma studied the photographs the man had left her.

In one photo, her grandfather stood with a group of six people. They were in front of the Prague Astronomical Clock, but something was wrong. The clock in the photo had thirteen numbers instead of twelve.

As the train crossed into the Czech Republic, Emma noticed something strange. The countryside outside the window seemed to flicker - one moment it was summer, the next winter. The other passengers didn't seem to notice.

Prague was a city of clocks. They were everywhere - on churches, town halls, even street corners. But the Astronomical Clock in the Old Town Square was different. It didn't just tell time; it told the movement of the stars.

Emma found the hidden entrance exactly where the coordinates pointed. It was behind a small clock shop that smelled of oil and metal. The old clockmaker inside nodded as if expecting her.

"The thirteenth hour," he said in heavily accented English. "You're here for the thirteenth hour."

He led her to a door hidden behind a grandfather clock. The room beyond was filled with clocks of every shape and size. In the center was a large model of the Astronomical Clock, but like in the photo, it had thirteen numbers.

The lion-shaped key fit perfectly into a slot at the base of the model. As Emma turned it, the room began to change. The clocks started ticking in unison, their hands moving faster and faster.

Suddenly, Emma wasn't in the shop anymore. She stood in the Old Town Square, but it was different. The people wore old-fashioned clothes, and the sky was a strange shade of purple.

A younger version of her grandfather approached her. "Emma," he said, "you're seeing what we saw. The thirteenth hour - the hour that shouldn't exist."

He explained how his group had discovered a flaw in time itself - a missing hour that caused all the problems. They had tried to fix it, but something went wrong.

As he spoke, the sky darkened. The clocks in the square began to strike thirteen. People froze in place, just like in Amsterdam.

"Find the others," her grandfather said. "They have the rest of the keys. But be careful - not all of them can be trusted."

The vision ended as suddenly as it began. Emma was back in the clock shop, the old clockmaker looking at her with concern.

"Did you see it?" he asked. "The broken hour?"

Emma nodded. Her watch now showed a new message: "Find the others."

As she left the shop, she noticed a group of people watching her. They wore the same symbol she had seen in the photos - a clock with thirteen numbers.

One of them stepped forward. "We've been waiting for you," she said. "But you need to hurry. The thirteenth hour is coming, and when it does, everything will change."

Emma's watch ticked louder. 18 days left. The box in her hands felt heavier than ever, but she knew she couldn't stop now.

The next key - shaped like a fish - pointed to Paris. But first, she needed to find the others.