Chapter 1829

Jude turned towards the entrance.

A wooden door appeared where the kitchen had been.

It was enormous, almost touching the ceiling. Its surface was covered in thirteen carved circles.

Twelve were dark.

One was silver.

And beneath them was a fourteenth mark.

A small crescent.

Sol stared at it.

His lips parted.

"Don’t," he whispered.

The door opened.

Beyond it was the northern mountain.

But not the mountain Jude knew.

The entire slope was covered in wooden houses.

Hundreds of them.

Some stood among the trees, some were built into the rocks, and others hung from enormous branches.

At the centre of the settlement stood the twenty-first house from the drawing.

The house with the silver-leaf roof.

A little figure stood at its entrance.

Jude couldn’t see its face.

But he could see the pendant on its wrist.

The figure raised its head.

And from somewhere behind Jude, the second Sol spoke.

"Now you can finally see where we began."

Jude turned.

The second boy stood beside the pale chair.

The first Sol was still near the door.

Both looked exactly alike.

But the second Sol was smiling.

The first was not.

"Jude," the first Sol said urgently. "Don’t let him speak."

The second boy ignored him.

He walked towards the enormous doorway.

"There’s something you should know about the first house."

Jude tightened his grip on the first Sol’s hand.

"What?"

The second boy looked at him.

"The first house was never built to keep something inside."

He paused.

"It was built to keep someone outside."

A tremendous bell rang from the mountain.

The silver-leaf roof of the distant house began to open, unfolding like the petals of an enormous flower.

A beam of pale light rose into the sky.

The figure at its entrance stepped forward.

Jude saw its face.

It was his own.

Older.

Tired.

With silver hair and a familiar wooden bird hanging from his wrist.

The older Jude raised one hand.

And the first Sol suddenly screamed.

"DON’T LET HIM OPEN THE FOURTEENTH DOOR!"

The second Sol smiled.

"Too late."

Behind Jude, the pale chair scraped across the floor.

The fourteenth mark on the enormous door began to glow.

And from the mountain came a voice that sounded exactly like Jude’s.

"Welcome home, my child."

Sol’s hand went cold in Jude’s.

Then the boy whispered something that made Jude’s blood run still.

"That’s my father."

Jude stared at the boy.

"Your father?"

Sol didn’t answer.

His fingers had tightened around Jude’s hand so firmly that Jude could feel them trembling.

Across the enormous doorway, the older version of Jude stood beneath the silver-leaf roof. He looked exactly like the man Jude saw in the mirror every morning, except for the years that had passed across his face. His hair was streaked with silver, his shoulders seemed heavier, and his eyes carried a weariness that Jude couldn’t understand.

The older Jude lowered his hand.

"Come here, Sol."

The boy stepped backwards.

"Don’t call me that."

A faint smile appeared on the older man’s face.

"What should I call you, then?"

Sol said nothing.

"Have you forgotten again?"

The second Sol approached the doorway.

"He hasn’t forgotten. He’s refusing."

The older Jude looked at the second boy.

"And you?"

"I remember."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

The older man’s expression changed.

"Then you know what must happen."

The second Sol nodded.

Jude looked from one to the other.

"Stop speaking as if I’m not standing here."

The older Jude finally looked directly at him.

For a moment, something like grief crossed his face.

"You shouldn’t have come back."

"Back?"

"Yes."

"I’ve never been here before."

The older man looked towards the enormous wooden houses covering the mountain.

"That’s what you believe."

Jude felt the floor shift beneath him.

The first Sol tugged at his hand.

"Don’t listen."

But Jude couldn’t ignore the questions any longer.

"Who are you?"

The older man looked at him for a long moment.

Then he answered.

"I am the man who failed to bring the child home."

Jude’s eyes narrowed.

"And I’m supposed to believe that?"

"No."

The older man lowered his head.

"You’re supposed to remember."

The fourteenth mark on the door glowed brighter.

A silver line stretched across the floor, reaching towards Jude’s feet. He stepped away, but the line followed him.

The second Sol watched it with an expression of satisfaction.

"It’s recognising you."

"Make it stop," Jude ordered.

The boy tilted his head.

"I can’t."

"Then tell me how."

"Open the door."

"No."

The second Sol sighed.

"You always say that."

Jude looked at him sharply.

"Always?"

The boy didn’t answer.

The older Jude moved away from the entrance of the distant house.

"Do not open the fourteenth door, Jude."

Jude stared at him.

"You just told me to remember. Now you’re telling me not to open it?"

"I told you nothing of the sort."

The second Sol laughed quietly.

"He’s already lying to you."

The older Jude’s expression hardened.

"You don’t know what you are asking him to do."

"I know exactly what I’m asking."

"You remember everything, but you don’t understand any of it."

The second Sol stopped smiling.

The first Sol looked towards Jude.

"Can we leave?"

Jude nodded immediately.

"Yes."

He turned away from the doorway.

But the room had changed.

The shared house, the women, the pale chair and the roots had vanished.

There was only the wooden floor beneath their feet, stretching into darkness.

The enormous doorway remained behind them.

The older Jude stood on one side.

The second Sol stood on the other.

And the first Sol was still holding Jude’s hand.

Jude looked around.

"Where are the others?"

"They’re safe," the first Sol whispered.

"Where?"

"I don’t know."

"You said they were safe."

"I said they were safe because I wanted you to stop looking behind us."

Jude turned towards him.

The boy looked genuinely frightened.

"Sol, what have you done?"

"I didn’t mean to bring you here."

"Then where are we?"

Sol looked down at the wooden floor.