Chapter 1852

Jude stared at her.

The stranger held out the seed.

"Take it."

He did not move.

"Why?"

"Because the tree is dying."

Jude looked towards the mountain.

The blue crack along its ridge had widened. Its light was fading now, replaced by a deep, pulsing darkness.

"What happens if it dies?"

The woman lowered her hand.

"The house will open all its doors."

"And?"

She looked at the four Sols.

"And the things that were never allowed to happen will come looking for their lives."

The child on the roof dropped his wooden bird.

It struck the tiles.

A tiny sound came from inside it.

A heartbeat.

Then another.

Then twelve more.

The stranger closed the box.

"You have very little time."

Jude looked at the wives.

"Can we trust her?"

Nobody answered.

Layla approached the stranger.

"Have we met before?"

The woman looked at her.

"Yes."

"When?"

"Before you were Layla."

Layla frowned.

The woman gently touched her cheek.

"You were the first to promise that nobody would be left behind."

Layla stepped away.

"No."

The stranger nodded.

"You don’t remember."

Jude moved between them.

"Don’t touch her."

The woman looked at him.

"You always say that."

A strange sound came from the house.

A chair scraping.

Then another.

Then twelve chairs scraping across the floor.

The front door opened wider.

Inside was the dining room.

Thirteen plates.

Thirteen wooden birds.

Thirteen chairs.

And one additional chair.

The four Sols were no longer on the roof.

They were sitting around the table.

The first sat beside the window.

The second sat near the kitchen.

The third sat opposite the door.

The fourth sat at the head of the table.

All four looked towards Jude.

The woman beside him whispered:

"Don’t let them sit in the same room."

Jude turned.

"Why?"

She looked at the dining room.

"Because they will remember which one came first."

The children slowly stood.

The one at the head of the table walked towards the doorway.

He was carrying a wooden bird with silver wings.

The second followed.

Then the third.

Then the fourth.

The wives gathered behind Jude.

The first child stopped at the threshold.

"Jude," he said.

The second child spoke.

"Come inside."

The third child smiled.

"It’s time."

The fourth child looked at the stranger.

Then he said something that made her drop the wooden box.

"Mother?"

The stranger went completely still.

The child stepped towards her.

"You said you would never leave me."

The woman stared at him.

Then she whispered:

"I know that voice."

The child nodded.

"You used to sing to me."

The stranger shook her head.

"No."

"You used to tell me stories about the outside world."

"No."

"You used to say that when I grew up, we would go beyond the sea."

The woman backed away.

Jude looked between them.

The child raised his wrist.

A crescent pendant appeared.

Silver.

Then black.

Then silver again.

The stranger’s eyes filled with tears.

"Which one are you?"

The child smiled.

"I’m the one you buried."

A bell rang from beneath the village.

The stranger dropped to her knees.

The shared house groaned.

The four children began speaking at once.

"Remember us."

"Remember our names."

"Remember the room."

"Remember the promise."

The stranger pressed her hands against her ears.

"Stop!"

The fourth child stepped closer.

"You promised."

The woman shook her head.

"I didn’t know."

"You promised."

"I didn’t know what it meant!"

The child looked towards Jude.

Then he said:

"Ask her what happened to the first Jude."

Jude turned to the woman.

"What happened to the first Jude?"

She looked up.

For a moment, she seemed unable to speak.

Then she slowly stood.

"The first Jude never left the house."

The words settled over the village.

Jude stared at her.

"What?"

"The first Keeper never left."

"I’m standing right here."

She shook her head.

"No. You are the one who was sent after him."

The younger Jude’s face flashed through Jude’s mind.

The silver-haired older Jude.

The voice behind the nameless door.

The man in the little room.

The photograph.

We were never thirteen.

Jude stepped forward.

"Where is he?"

The woman looked towards the shared house.

"He is sitting at the table."

The four children moved aside.

At the far end of the dining room, the extra chair was occupied.

A man sat with his back to the doorway.

His hair was dark.

His clothes were familiar.

His hands rested on the table.

Jude recognised the shape of his shoulders.

The way he sat.

The slight tilt of his head.

He was looking down at a wooden bird.

The woman whispered:

"Don’t let him turn around."

Jude stared.

"Why?"

The stranger looked at the man.

"Because he will recognise you."

The man slowly lifted the bird.

Then he began turning towards the doorway.

The wives gathered behind Jude.

The four Sols stood motionless.

The woman reached for Jude’s hand.

"Please," she whispered. "Whatever happens, don’t let him see your face."

But it was too late.

The man had already turned.

He had Jude’s face.

Not the face of the younger version.

Not the face of the older version.

The exact same face Jude saw every morning.

The man smiled.

Then he looked directly at Jude and said:

"Finally. Now we can talk about the twelve women you left behind."

Jude felt the world tilt.

The man placed the wooden bird on the table.

Beside it was a second object.

A small silver photograph.

He turned it towards Jude.

It showed the twelve wives standing in front of the first house.

But there was something different about the picture.

Jude was not standing with them.

Instead, he was sitting in the extra chair.

And the man standing behind the women was the same Jude who had just spoken.

On the back of the photograph were three words.

YOU ARE THE COPY.

The man at the table leaned forward.

"And now," he said quietly, "I want my life back."