“As were you.”

Guy blushed. He said, “Well, I suppose,” and glanced over at the front window of the police station.

Catherine caught sight of her own reflection in the glass. There was nothing about her countenance to show she’d just faced a killer and escaped.

As they started in the direction of the watchmaker’s shop, Guy took out the timepiece. It was as Catherine had seen it in Spencer’s room, the pale silver flashing in the sunlight. “It’s empty,” said Guy. “I didn’t notice before, but I can feel the difference—there’s no magic left. Everyone thought this timepiece could bring back the dead when there was only ever enough magic for one life.” Placing the watch in his pocket, he let out a shaky breath. “I’m glad it was given back to Owen—it never should’ve been taken from him.”

They came to the shop, the CLOSED sign propped up in the door, the lamps inside burning low. Catherine felt a rush of relief at the sight of it, overwhelmed that they’d made it here. When they entered, Owen rushed out from the back room. “Oh, thank goodness,” he said. “What happened?”

Guy removed the timepiece from his coat. “Well, we’ve got this.”

Owen swallowed. When Guy passed him the watch, he turned it over in his hand, holding it a little away from himself. Giving it back, he said, “It’s true, then? Mr. Carlyle—did he—”

“Yes,” said Catherine. “We’ve just come from the police station.”

Guy put aside his coat and hat before heading into the back room. Catherine and Owen followed, taking a seat on the sofa; Guy closed the door and sat down at the desk. The shop was quiet as it ever was—the sound of the clocks beyond the door accentuating the silence between the three of them.

It was Owen who spoke first. “I’m glad you’re both all right,” he said in a whisper. “I sat here all the while, waiting. Whatever we do with the timepiece, it matters not to me—I’m just glad you’re back safely.”

Catherine untied her bonnet and held it in her lap. She thought Guy ought to be resting after all the magic he’d done, but he seemed quite set on considering the timepiece. He placed his magnifier on his glasses, located a movement holder and the needle-fine tools he required.

“No one will be using the timepiece for anything,” said Guy. “There’s no magic to it anymore.” He set the watch into the movement holder, removing the cracked crystal from the face. “It was used up the moment you awoke from the grave, Owen.”

Owen ducked his head to stare down at his hands. “Mr. Carlyle did it all for naught then—poisoning Mr. Nolan and Mr. Ainsworth.”

Guy took off his spectacles. He set his eyes on the opposite wall, not looking at either of them. He said simply, “Yes.”

Owen made a soft, choked sound that pierced Catherine’s heart like an arrow. He said again, “I’m glad you’re all right,” and brought his knees to his chest, pressing his face against the fold of his arms. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”