Chapter 1876

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.

"Still afraid of the floor?"

The older Jude looked at him.

"Who are you?"

The man lowered his head slightly.

"That’s a rather embarrassing question to ask someone whose face you are wearing."

"I know what you are."

"Do you?"

The man looked towards Jude.

"Ask him. He has been looking for me in every room, behind every door, and inside every memory."

Jude glanced at the twelve women.

They had gathered close together near the beach. Susan held Rose’s hand. Serena stood beside Layla, while Sophie and Scarlet watched the figures around the firepit.

None of them looked away from the village.

"Stay here," Jude told them.

Layla immediately shook her head.

"No."

"Layla—"

"We have followed you through caves, forests, strange houses, and places that shouldn’t exist. You aren’t going down there without us."

Jude looked at the others.

Natalie folded her arms.

"She’s right."

Zoey nodded.

"Besides, we have already had enough mysterious men with your face."

Lucy glanced towards the man near the firepit.

"Some of them are becoming rather repetitive."

Under different circumstances, Jude might have laughed.

Instead, he looked at the enormous staircase.

It had emerged from beneath the village, but it was not made of the familiar wood used in their houses. Its steps were pale, almost white, and silver roots ran along its edges.

The stairs descended into a darkness that seemed to absorb the light around it.

Every few seconds, a faint glow travelled upwards from below.

Like something breathing.

The man holding the child turned towards the staircase.

"Come along. We have waited long enough."

Jude didn’t move.

"Why are you holding him?"

"Because someone must."

"He can stand."

The man looked down.

The child stared back at him.

For a moment, their expressions were strangely similar.

Then the man placed the child on the ground.

The boy stood without difficulty.

He was wearing the same pale clothes Jude remembered from the room beneath the mountain. His hair was dark, his face almost colourless beneath the evening light, and his hands were clasped in front of him.

He looked at the four Sols standing in the shared-house doorway.

All four children had come outside now.

They stood in a line.

The first Sol looked frightened.

The second was staring at the cradle.

The third held his wooden bird tightly.

The fourth looked at Jude.

"Don’t let him take us down there."

Jude turned towards him.

"Who?"

The fourth Sol pointed at the man.

"He wants all five."

The man sighed.

"Must we begin this again?"

The smallest child from the cradle stepped forward.

"I’m not going with you."

The man’s expression became cold.

"You have already been there."

"I don’t remember."

"That’s precisely the problem."

The child looked towards Jude.

"Father?"

Jude approached him slowly.

"I’m here."

The boy reached for his hand.

Jude took it.

The instant their fingers touched, a sudden flash of light passed through the village.

The firepit went dark.

Every lantern extinguished.

The wooden houses creaked.

And from somewhere beneath the staircase came the sound of a door opening.

The man with Jude’s face closed his eyes.

"Too soon."

The older Jude looked at the child.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," the boy whispered.

The silver roots around the staircase began to move.

They curled over the first few steps, then stretched towards the village.

Jude pulled the child closer.

"What is happening?"

The older Jude looked towards the shared house.

"Something has recognised him."

"Who?"

The older man swallowed.

"The first house."

A low voice rose from beneath the ground.

Not a man’s voice.

Not a woman’s.

It sounded like hundreds of people speaking through the same mouth.

"THE FIFTH HAS RETURNED."

The four Sols lowered their heads.

The smallest boy covered his ears.

Jude looked at the man standing beside the cradle.

"Explain."

The man smiled faintly.

"You still want explanations. After everything?"

"Yes."

"Then let us start with the cradle."

He pointed towards it.

The wooden cradle was empty now, but something remained inside.

A small silver blanket.

Jude approached cautiously.

The blanket was embroidered with the symbol of the two hearts.

One silver circle.

One dark circle.

Between them was a tiny line.

He recognised the design from the wooden key.

But beneath the symbol was something new.

A name.

Not Jude.

Not Sol.

A name written in an unfamiliar script.

Jude leaned closer.

The letters shifted.

For a moment, they resembled the name the child had spoken earlier.

Then they changed again.

The man watched him.

"You cannot read it yet."

"Why?"

"Because you are reading from the wrong side."

Jude looked up.

"What does that mean?"

The man pointed towards the empty cradle.

"Turn it around."

Jude did.

The back of the cradle had a small wooden panel.

It was carved with a scene.

Two children stood beneath a tree.

One held a silver key.

The other held a dark one.

Between them was a man kneeling beside a wooden door.

But the man’s face had been scratched away.

Below the carving were twelve small circles and one larger circle.

Jude touched the larger one.

A thin crack appeared.

The panel opened.

Inside was a folded piece of cloth.

Jude pulled it out.

It was old and faded, but he recognised the embroidery.

It was the same pale fabric that had appeared in the first house, the same cloth that had been wrapped around the wooden key, and the same pattern worn by the woman with Layla’s face.

He unfolded it.

A sentence had been stitched into the fabric.

THE CHILD WAS NOT BURIED TO KEEP HIM HIDDEN.

Jude read it again.

Then he turned the cloth over.

HE WAS BURIED TO KEEP THE DOOR CLOSED.