Chapter 1824

The melody was unfamiliar, yet something about it made Jude feel strangely at peace.

Sol stepped into the passage.

Jude followed.

Behind them, the second boy shouted.

"STOP!"

The door began closing.

Just before it shut, the second Sol spoke one final sentence.

"You’re taking him into the room where he was made."

The door closed.

Darkness surrounded them.

For a few seconds, they stood still.

Then a lantern lit itself on the wall.

The passage was made of wood.

Not stone.

The walls were lined with old shelves, and each shelf contained a small object.

A clay bowl.

A wooden bird.

A silver disc.

A dried flower.

A broken cup.

A little blue ribbon.

A stone shaped like a heart.

Jude recognised some of them.

They were objects from the village.

But others looked much older.

Sol walked ahead.

"Don’t touch anything."

Jude looked at him.

"You’re telling me not to touch things?"

The boy gave him a small, apologetic smile.

"I know."

They continued along the passage.

At the end was a room.

It was circular, with a low ceiling and a wooden floor. A large table stood in the centre.

On the table lay an enormous book.

Its cover was made of dark wood, and its pages were thick and yellowed.

A small silver lock held it shut.

Jude approached.

"What is this?"

Sol looked at the book.

"The beginning."

Jude examined the lock.

There was no keyhole.

Only the familiar three curved lines.

He took out the silver leaf.

The symbol on its surface matched the lock perfectly.

He placed it against the cover.

The book opened.

Its pages began turning by themselves.

They moved faster and faster until they stopped near the middle.

Jude leaned forward.

The first page contained a drawing of the island.

But it was not the island as he knew it.

It showed a vast land surrounded by mountains and an enormous forest.

There were rivers, lakes and fields.

And at the centre stood the great tree.

Beneath it was a wooden house.

Jude turned the page.

The next drawing showed thirteen people standing around the tree.

Thirteen figures.

Twelve women and one man.

Their faces were blank.

Another page.

The same thirteen figures were standing inside the wooden house.

Another page.

The house was surrounded by flames.

Another page.

The thirteen figures were gone.

Only the tree remained.

Jude turned another page.

There was a small drawing of a child standing on a beach.

A crescent-shaped pendant hung from his wrist.

Sol stepped backwards.

Jude looked at him.

"That’s you."

Sol nodded.

The next page showed the child walking towards a man.

Jude’s face was drawn clearly.

He was standing on the beach, looking towards the water.

The child was approaching him.

Beneath the drawing was a sentence.

When the Keeper forgets, the child will return.

Jude turned the page.

There was another drawing.

It showed the village.

The wooden houses.

The gardens.

The central firepit.

And twelve women standing in a circle.

One of them was Layla.

But she was drawn differently from the others.

A small silver line crossed her chest.

Jude touched the page.

The ink shimmered.

Words appeared beneath the drawing.

The house will claim what the circle cannot remember.

Jude’s expression tightened.

"Sol, what is this book?"

The boy looked at the pages.

"It remembers the story."

"Whose story?"

"Yours."

Jude turned towards him.

"My story?"

Sol nodded.

"And mine."

Jude looked back at the book.

A new page began turning.

It stopped at a drawing of the village at night.

The central firepit was burning.

The twelve women were gathered around it.

Jude stood at the centre.

But there was another figure beside him.

A woman wearing a pale dress.

Her face was hidden.

Beneath the drawing was a single sentence.

One must remain beneath the tree.

Jude stared at it.

"What does that mean?"

Sol didn’t answer.

Jude turned the page.

The next drawing showed the same woman standing beneath the tree.

She was holding a small wooden key.

A second figure stood behind her.

A child.

Sol.

But in this drawing, the child was holding the woman’s hand.

The woman looked down at him.

And the child looked up at her.

Jude felt a strange sadness.

"Who is she?"

Sol’s voice was barely audible.

"She was the first."

"The first what?"

"The first person who lived in the house."

Jude studied the picture.

"What happened to her?"

Sol looked towards the wooden door.

"She waited."

"For whom?"

The boy didn’t answer.

The book suddenly began turning again.

This time, the pages moved so violently that Jude had to hold them down.

A gust of cold air swept through the room.

The lantern flickered.

The pages stopped.

A new drawing appeared.

It showed the first house beneath the tree.

The door was open.

Inside stood a woman.

Outside stood twelve figures.

And behind them was a man.

Jude recognised the man.

It was himself.

But the drawing showed him much older.

His hair was longer, his face thinner, and his expression was filled with sorrow.

He was holding a small wooden bird.

Jude leaned closer.

A line of writing appeared beneath the picture.

He came back too late.

Jude stepped away.

"What does that mean?"

Sol looked at him.

"It’s not finished."

"Then tell me the ending."

The boy lowered his head.

"I don’t know it."

The book turned to its final page.

It was blank.

At the centre of the page was a small silver circle.

Jude reached towards it.

Sol immediately caught his wrist.

"Don’t!"

But the page had already begun glowing.

A voice filled the room.

It was not the voice of the woman from the house.

It was not the voice of the second Sol.

It sounded like Jude.

His own voice.

Older.

Tired.

And full of regret.

"Jude... if you are reading this, then the house has opened again."

Jude froze.

Sol released his wrist.

The voice continued.

"You must find the first house before the fourteenth door opens."