Chapter 1890

The chairs collapsed.

The twelve women dissolved into clouds of silver dust.

Jude fell backwards as the floor opened beneath him.

He grabbed the edge of the staircase.

The child reached for him.

Their fingers touched.

And Jude heard a voice inside his head.

Not the child’s.

Not the woman’s.

His own.

A voice from somewhere impossibly far away.

You were never meant to bring him back.

Then the room vanished.

Jude struck the ground.

He was lying on the wooden floor of the shared house.

The firepit crackled outside.

Sunlight streamed through the windows.

The familiar smell of breakfast filled the room.

For a few seconds, he could only stare at the ceiling.

Then someone spoke.

"Are you planning to sleep there all morning?"

Jude turned his head.

Susan stood near the table with a bowl in her hands.

Rose was arranging plates.

Emma was pouring tea.

Natalie and Zoey were arguing about something near the kitchen.

Sophie was sitting by the window, reading.

Everything was normal.

Almost painfully normal.

Jude sat up.

"Where is everyone?"

Susan frowned.

"Everyone is here."

"No, I mean—"

He stopped.

He looked around.

All twelve wives were present.

But Scarlet was standing near the doorway.

She was holding a wooden bird.

Jude’s heart tightened.

He got up immediately.

"Scarlet."

She looked at him.

"Good morning."

"How long have you been here?"

"Since breakfast began."

"Where did you get that bird?"

She glanced at it.

"From the storehouse."

"Who gave it to you?"

She shrugged.

"I found it."

Jude approached her.

"Put it down."

Scarlet looked puzzled.

"Why?"

"Please."

She slowly placed the bird on the table.

The others had stopped talking.

Sophie closed her book.

"Jude?"

He looked towards the women.

"Did any of you see anything unusual this morning?"

Rose frowned.

"Unusual?"

"Anyone standing outside? Anyone entering the village?"

Natalie shook her head.

"Nothing."

"Did you hear knocking?"

Zoey laughed.

"Only Emma knocking over the flour container."

Emma looked offended.

"It was one time."

"Three times?" Jude asked.

The women exchanged glances.

Susan stepped closer.

"Jude, what’s happened?"

He looked towards the bird.

Its eyes were closed.

He reached for it.

Then stopped.

A tiny piece of paper was tucked beneath its wing.

He carefully unfolded it.

There were three words.

SHE IS ALREADY HERE.

Jude looked up.

"Who is she?"

Nobody answered.

Then Layla spoke from the far end of the room.

"Jude?"

He turned.

She was standing beside the window.

Her face was pale.

"There’s someone outside."

Jude moved towards the window.

"What?"

Layla pointed towards the northern path.

A figure stood between the trees.

A woman.

She wore a pale embroidered cloth.

Her hair was long and dark.

Her face was hidden.

Jude stared at her.

The woman raised one hand.

Then she pointed towards the village.

Not towards Jude.

Not towards the shared house.

Towards the firepit.

Something moved beneath the ground.

The floorboards trembled.

A wooden cup fell from the table and shattered.

The women hurried towards the windows.

"What’s happening?" Grace asked.

Jude didn’t answer.

The woman outside began walking.

One step.

Then another.

She passed the first cabin.

Then the orchard.

Then the wooden bridge.

As she approached the firepit, the silver roots beneath the ground began to rise.

They pushed through the soil, curling around the stones.

The woman stopped.

She lowered her head.

And spoke.

Even through the closed window, Jude heard her voice.

"Bring me my children."

The wooden bird on the table opened its eyes.

A second voice came from inside it.

"Don’t let her count us."

Jude turned towards the women.

"Everyone away from the windows!"

But before anyone could move, every woman in the room spoke at once.

Not in their own voices.

In the same unfamiliar voice.

"One."

Jude froze.

"Two."

The wooden floor began to creak.

"Three."

The shared house door slammed shut.

The windows became dark.

The walls began to stretch.

And from somewhere beneath the table came the sound of a child laughing.

Jude looked down.

A small wooden hatch had appeared between his feet.

It was the same hatch he had found beneath the dining table in the earlier chamber.

A silver handle rested on its surface.

Beside it was a message carved into the wood.

THE FIRST MOTHER HAS RETURNED.

A second line appeared beneath it.

THE SECOND MOTHER IS WAITING.

Then a third.

THE THIRD MOTHER IS ALREADY INSIDE.

Jude stepped back.

The hatch opened by itself.

A small hand emerged.

It was holding a photograph.

Jude crouched and took it.

The image showed the first house beneath the enormous tree.

Fourteen figures stood in front of it.

Twelve women.

One man.

And one child.

But the man’s face had been scratched away.

The child’s face had been scratched away too.

On the back, written in familiar handwriting, was a message.

YOU HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR THE FIRST CHILD.

Jude turned the photograph over.

A new sentence appeared.

BUT YOU HAVE NEVER ASKED WHO GAVE BIRTH TO THE FIRST KEEPER.

The hand beneath the hatch slowly withdrew.

Jude stared into the darkness.

Then a child’s voice whispered:

"Father, don’t let her find the room."

Jude leaned closer.

"Which room?"

There was a pause.

Then the voice answered.

"The room where Mother was born."

A sudden crash shook the house.

The walls split.

Silver roots burst through the ceiling.

The women cried out as the floor tilted beneath them.

Jude grabbed the edge of the table.

Through the broken wall, he could see the firepit.

The woman in the pale cloth was standing at its centre.

But she was no longer alone.

The five Sols stood around her.

The sixth child, the one with Jude’s face, was standing directly in front of her.

And behind them stood the white-haired woman.

All seven figures were facing the shared house.

The pale-clothed woman raised her head.

For the first time, Jude saw her face.