Chapter 1858

The boy stared at her.

Then he nodded.

"Before."

Layla frowned.

"Before what?"

"Before you were Layla."

A silence fell.

Jude looked towards the woman.

"Do you remember anything?"

Layla shook her head.

"No."

The child walked towards her.

"You used to sing."

Layla’s face softened.

"What did I sing?"

The boy opened his mouth.

But no sound came.

He looked confused.

Then frightened.

"I can’t remember."

Layla gently knelt.

"That’s all right."

The child stared at her.

"Are you angry?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you don’t have to remember everything to be allowed to stay."

The boy looked at her for a long time.

Then he slowly nodded.

Something changed in the room.

A small silver leaf appeared on the floor beside the bed.

It had not been there before.

Jude picked it up.

A symbol was engraved on its surface.

Three curved lines surrounding a point.

Beneath it was a second symbol.

A small tree.

And beneath the tree was a word.

RELEASE.

The moment Jude read it, the leaf warmed in his hand.

The child stepped backwards.

"Where did you get that?"

"It appeared."

"Put it down."

"Why?"

"Because that’s not a symbol from the first house."

Jude looked at the engraving.

"What is it?"

The child stared at the leaf.

"It’s from the place outside."

Everyone went quiet.

The enormous hand.

The voice.

The darkness.

The thing that had been trying to enter the island.

Jude looked towards the window.

"Is it connected to that?"

The child nodded.

"It’s a mark."

"Of what?"

"An opening."

The floor beneath them vibrated.

A distant bell rang.

Then another.

The women turned towards the door.

Through the open doorway, Jude could see the corridor stretching into darkness.

At its far end stood the silver-haired older Jude.

He was leaning against the wall, one hand pressed to his side.

The third Sol stood beside him.

Both were looking towards the room.

The older Jude raised his hand.

"Come here," he called.

Jude stared.

"What happened to you?"

"Not enough time."

"Where have you been?"

"Under the mountain."

Jude looked towards the third child.

"Are you all right?"

The boy nodded.

Then he looked at the child beside Jude.

The two stared at each other.

The older Jude stepped into the room.

His eyes immediately settled on the silver leaf.

"Where did you find that?"

"Here."

He took a step closer.

"Give it to me."

Jude held it out, but did not release it.

"Tell me what it does."

The older Jude glanced towards the window.

"It opens the room."

"We’re already in the room."

"No."

He looked at the child.

"This is only the memory of the room."

Jude stared.

"Then where is the real one?"

The older Jude pointed towards the ceiling.

"Above us."

Everyone looked up.

The wooden ceiling began to dissolve.

The little room vanished.

They were standing beneath an enormous tree.

Its trunk rose beyond sight.

Its roots spread through the ground like enormous wooden roads.

Small doors were built into the roots.

Some were open.

Some were sealed.

Some were so old that their wood had become indistinguishable from the tree itself.

The sky above was filled with stars.

But they were not arranged like stars in an ordinary sky.

They formed words.

Names.

Promises.

Dates.

Fragments of conversations.

Jude looked up.

One group of stars formed the name SUSAN.

Another formed ROSE.

Then SERENA.

LAYLA.

NATALIE.

ZOEY.

LUCY.

STELLA.

EMMA.

GRACE.

SOPHIE.

SCARLET.

And finally, JUDE.

But beneath his name was another line.

FIRST KEEPER — UNCONFIRMED.

The older Jude looked at it.

"That’s new."

Jude turned.

"What does it mean?"

"It means the tree has started questioning its own memories."

The silver leaf began to vibrate.

The fourth Sol stepped closer.

"Can you hear it?"

Jude listened.

At first, there was only the sound of wind moving through the branches.

Then he heard whispers.

Hundreds of them.

Some were familiar.

Some were not.

They came from the doors in the roots.

"Don’t forget me."

"Come back."

"I was here first."

"Let me go."

"Open the house."

"Remember the name."

One voice stood out.

It was a woman’s voice.

"Jude, please."

He turned towards a small door in the nearest root.

It had a familiar mark.

A silver leaf.

And a name.

LAYLA.

The door opened a fraction.

Jude approached.

The older Jude caught his shoulder.

"Don’t."

Jude looked at him.

"You keep telling me not to open doors."

"Because you keep trying to open the wrong ones."

"Then tell me which one is right."

The older Jude looked towards the tree.

"The door that has no name."

Jude scanned the roots.

There were hundreds of doors.

Some were tiny.

Some were enormous.

Some had names.

Some had symbols.

Then he saw it.

At the base of the trunk was a small dark opening, almost hidden beneath a thick root.

It had no handle.

No inscription.

No symbol.

No visible frame.

Only a narrow gap.

The silver leaf trembled.

Jude approached it.

The older Jude followed.

"Be careful."

Jude crouched.

A faint sound came from inside.

A child humming.

The melody was familiar.

Layla had been right.

It was the song the child could not remember.

Jude leaned closer.

"Who’s there?"

The humming stopped.

Then a little voice answered.

"I’m waiting for my brother."

The fourth Sol went pale.

The third Sol took a step forward.

The older Jude whispered, "No."

The voice continued.

"Father said he would bring him back."

Jude looked at the two children.

"Who is it?"

Neither answered.

The small dark opening widened.

A tiny hand appeared.

It was holding a wooden bird.

But unlike the others, this bird had no eyes.

The hand placed it on the ground.

Then withdrew.

A second hand appeared.

Then a third.

And finally, a child crawled out.

He was smaller than the other Sols.

His hair was dark.

His face was pale.

He wore no pendant.

No silver thread.

No familiar clothes.

He looked at Jude.