Chapter 1854

Jude felt a cold sensation travel through him.

"Why?"

"Because you were not brought here."

"Then how did I get here?"

The man leaned forward.

"You were built here."

The words seemed to drain the air from the room.

Layla stepped closer to Jude.

"That’s impossible."

The man looked at her.

"Is it?"

"Jude is a person."

"Yes."

"He has memories."

"Yes."

"He has feelings."

"Yes."

"Then what are you saying?"

The man looked at Jude.

"I’m saying that something can be made and still become real."

The woman with the wooden box closed her eyes.

"Don’t do this."

The man ignored her.

"Your body was not made from wood or stone. Your memories were not written on paper. But the first house gathered the things that made the first Keeper who he was, and it made another life from them."

Jude stared at him.

"Another life?"

"You."

A silence followed.

The four children moved closer together.

The first Sol looked down at his wooden bird.

The second touched his pendant.

The third watched the man at the table.

The fourth looked at Jude.

"Does that mean you’re not real?" he asked.

Jude turned towards him.

"No."

The answer came immediately.

The child stared.

Jude looked back at the man.

"I don’t care what you say you made me from. I know what I’ve lived. I know the people standing beside me. I know what I’ve felt."

The man nodded.

"Of course."

"Then you can keep your photograph."

Jude dropped it onto the table.

"I am not giving you my life."

The man studied him.

For the first time, his expression seemed to change.

Something like disappointment passed through his eyes.

Then he smiled.

"That’s what I said too."

Jude frowned.

"What?"

The man looked towards the woman.

"Tell him."

She shook her head.

"Not yet."

"Tell him."

"He isn’t ready."

"He has already reached the house."

"He hasn’t reached the room."

The man gave a quiet laugh.

"You always think there is more time."

The woman looked at Jude.

"There is something you need to understand about the first Keeper."

Jude waited.

"He did not create the twelve promises because he wanted to control them. He made them because he was afraid of losing the people he loved."

The man looked down.

"He wanted to preserve every moment. Every voice. Every face. He believed that if the house remembered everything, nothing could ever truly end."

"And what went wrong?" Sophie asked.

The woman looked at her.

"The house began remembering things that had never happened."

A low vibration travelled through the floor.

The four children turned towards the doorway.

The woman continued.

"First, it remembered small things. A conversation that had never taken place. A journey nobody had taken. A room that had never been built. Then it began remembering people."

Jude looked towards the man.

"And the first Keeper?"

"He tried to stop it."

"Did he succeed?"

The woman glanced at the empty chair.

"No."

The man at the table smiled.

"Not entirely."

A sudden sound came from the ceiling.

A wooden creak.

Then another.

The roof began to open.

Above them was not the sky.

It was a vast forest.

The enormous tree stood upside down, its roots spreading across the heavens and its branches hanging beneath the ground.

Tiny wooden houses were built among the roots.

Hundreds of them.

Some were familiar.

Some were not.

At the centre of the forest was a small house with a single window.

The same little room.

Jude stared.

The window opened.

A child appeared.

Not one of the four Sols.

This child had Jude’s face.

He looked about the same age as the children, with dark hair and bright, curious eyes.

He was holding a wooden bird.

He leaned out of the window.

"Father?"

The man at the table stood abruptly.

"Close it!"

The child looked confused.

"Why?"

"Go inside!"

The child didn’t move.

Instead, he looked towards Jude.

"Who is that?"

The man stepped away from the table.

"Don’t speak to him."

The child smiled.

"He looks like you."

Jude stared at the boy.

The child raised his wooden bird.

"Are you my brother?"

The man moved towards the window.

But before he could reach it, the entire forest shifted.

The little house began moving away.

The child disappeared from the window.

A moment later, the roof above them closed.

The dining room was dark again.

The man stood motionless.

Jude approached him.

"Who was that?"

The man did not answer.

"Another child?"

Silence.

"Another version of me?"

The man slowly turned.

"No."

"Then who?"

The man looked at the fourth Sol.

"He was the first."

The boy beside Jude whispered, "No."

The man looked at him.

"You remember him."

The child shook his head.

"I don’t."

"You were there."

"No."

"You were standing beside the bed."

The fourth Sol backed away.

"You were the one who asked him to plant the seed."

The child began shaking.

Jude caught his hand.

"Enough."

The man looked at Jude.

"You still don’t understand. None of them do."

He gestured towards the four children.

"They are not four versions of the same boy."

Jude stared at him.

"Then what are they?"

The man took a breath.

"They are four different answers to the same question."

The first child stepped forward.

"What question?"

The man looked at him.

"Who should remain?"

The second child touched his pendant.

The third lowered his eyes.

The fourth held Jude’s hand more tightly.

The man continued.

"The first house tried to answer that question by preserving everyone. The tree tried to answer it by remembering everyone. The island tried to answer it by giving everyone a place."

"And the children?" Jude asked.

"They were created when those answers began contradicting one another."

The first Sol looked up.

"Which one of us is supposed to remain?"

The man did not answer.

The second Sol whispered, "Which one of us is supposed to disappear?"

The third looked towards the empty chair.