T︠s︡arit︠s︡a temnoĭ reki
(Book)

880-05,1945, outskirts of Budapest. A company of soldiers quartered in the ancient castle of the count who had fled to the West. Since it was supposed to open a museum here, the company commander Kirill Kondrashin was strictly ordered to preserve all the cultural values of the castle, and especially two old paintings: a sunny landscape with a hunting lodge and a portrait of an amazingly beautiful young woman. Sleeping in a cozy count's bedroom, where those very valuable canvases hung, something inexplicable began to happen. Probably, it was all about the silver crucifix and the medallion fixed on the frames of the paintings. They held back unknown forces, ready to splash out of the pictures. And as soon as they were removed, the invisible edge disappeared, separating centuries.