Chapter 1875

Jude knelt.

"Are you all right?"

Sol nodded.

Then he looked past Jude.

His eyes settled on the older man.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Finally, Sol whispered:

"You found him."

The older Jude looked frightened.

"Sol, listen to me."

The boy shook his head.

"No."

He turned towards Jude.

"I found something."

"What?"

Sol reached into his pocket and withdrew a small folded piece of paper.

Jude opened it.

It was a drawing of the village.

The shared house.

The central firepit.

The twelve women’s houses.

And beyond the northern mountain, a second island.

A much smaller one.

It was shaped like a hand.

At its centre stood a single wooden house.

Jude looked up.

"Where is this?"

Sol pointed towards the horizon.

"Over there."

"But there is nothing beyond the sea."

Sol shook his head.

"There wasn’t."

The older Jude approached.

"Give me that."

Sol stepped away.

The older man stopped.

"Where did you find it?"

Sol looked at him.

"Behind the first door."

The older Jude’s face went pale.

"That’s impossible."

Sol shook his head.

"No. It was waiting."

He pointed to the drawing.

"There are people living there."

Jude examined it again.

"How many?"

Sol looked towards the village.

"Twelve."

The women exchanged glances.

"Twelve people?" Jude asked.

Sol nodded.

"And one man."

"Who is he?"

The boy looked at the older Jude.

Then at Jude.

Then he whispered:

"He looks exactly like you."

The older Jude staggered backwards.

Sol continued.

"But he doesn’t have a face."

The little wooden door in the sand suddenly began to shake.

A bell rang from the northern mountain.

Then another rang from somewhere beneath the village.

Then a third sounded from beyond the sea.

The three bells rang together.

The older Jude looked towards the horizon.

"It’s opened."

Jude stood.

"What has?"

The older man did not answer.

Sol slowly lifted his wrist.

The silver crescent pendant unfolded.

Its curved pieces separated, forming the familiar symbol of three lines around a central point.

But this time, a fourth line appeared.

It stretched beyond the circle.

Towards the horizon.

Sol looked at Jude.

"Father?"

Jude knelt beside him.

"What is it?"

The boy’s eyes filled with fear.

"I think someone has been living in our village."

Jude frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Sol looked towards the houses.

At first, everything appeared normal.

The wooden walkways were quiet.

Smoke rose from the cooking area.

The orchard moved gently in the wind.

Then the door of the shared house opened.

A figure stepped outside.

It was Susan.

She walked towards the firepit.

Then Rose emerged.

Then Serena.

Layla.

All his other wives came along.

Jude turned towards the twelve women standing beside him.

They were still there.

Every one of them.

The figures from the shared house continued walking.

They gathered around the firepit.

Then they all turned towards the beach.

Towards Jude.

And together, they raised their hands.

The twelve real women went silent.

Because each figure at the firepit was holding something.

A wooden bird.

A silver crescent.

A small stone.

A piece of pale cloth.

A broken key.

An object belonging to someone standing on the beach.

Then the shared house door opened once more.

A man stepped outside.

He looked exactly like Jude.

But this time, he had a face.

And he was carrying a cradle.

The older Jude whispered something.

Jude turned towards him.

"What?"

The older man was staring at the cradle.

His voice barely emerged.

"That’s the first child."

Jude looked towards the shared house.

The man with Jude’s face placed the cradle beside the firepit.

Then he turned towards the beach.

He smiled.

And from inside the cradle came a familiar voice.

"Jude?"

It was the voice of the child beneath the dining table.

The one who had said he was the one Jude left outside.

The one who had called him Father.

The cradle began rocking by itself.

Then the man beside it spoke.

"Welcome home, Keeper."

He lifted the child from the cradle.

And Jude finally saw what the child was holding.

A small wooden bird.

Its eyes were open.

Its wings were silver.

And carved into its back were four words:

THERE WERE NEVER FOUR SOLS.

The man smiled at Jude.

"There were five."

Then he looked towards the twelve women.

"And now that all twelve promises have returned..."

He raised his free hand.

The ground beneath the village split open.

A vast wooden staircase emerged from beneath the firepit, descending into a darkness filled with silver lights.

The man turned towards Jude.

"The first house is ready to receive its family."

The child in his arms lifted his head.

His eyes settled on Jude.

Then he whispered:

"Father, why did you bury me twice?"

Jude could not answer.

The question had come from the child in the cradle, but the voice was unmistakable. It was the same voice that had called him Father beneath the mountain, the same voice that had spoken from the little room before the first house, and the same voice that had asked why Jude had brought him back.

Why did you bury me twice?

Jude stared at the child.

The man holding him looked almost pleased.

"Do you see now?" he asked. "You have finally reached the part of the story you were trying so desperately to avoid."

Jude took a step forward.

"Put him down."

The man glanced at the child.

"He is quite comfortable."

"Put him down."

"Still giving orders. Even now."

The child in his arms looked towards Jude.

"Don’t come closer."

Jude stopped.

The man’s smile widened.

"You see? He remembers."

The older Jude moved towards them, but the moment he stepped past the first wooden walkway, the ground beneath his feet produced a sharp cracking sound. A silver line appeared around his boots.

He froze.

"Don’t move," he warned.

The man holding the cradle laughed.