Near must want him to leave. Alternatively, he was too afraid to come down into the basement, supposing that Jude was lurking down here in preparation for some act of violence. For another minute, Jude did not respond. He stroked his hurt palm with one finger, staring in silence at the glyph carved into the floor. Never again would he sit on that floor, or on this bench. Never again would They murmur their secrets in the musty dark. Jude felt a strange tightness in his chest. He could taste mucus in the back of his throat. Perhaps he was getting a cold.
After that minute, if Near was listening, he could hear footsteps. Jude left the doors open behind him. He didn't know how to make the wall go back to its place anyways; that part he had never paid attention to.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched his feet as he came up the stairs. He walked at an even pace, neither hurrying nor dawdling. At the top step, he looked down owlishly at Near on the floor. He was waiting for the next prompt.
Maybe the universe had spun a wheel, and Near had lucked out with the world's strangest, most guileless home invader. Weird? Yes. But aside from cryptic stories and a nap, he had extracted nothing. (The gin, after all, was back in the bottle.)
After that minute, if Near was listening, he could hear footsteps. Jude left the doors open behind him. He didn't know how to make the wall go back to its place anyways; that part he had never paid attention to.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched his feet as he came up the stairs. He walked at an even pace, neither hurrying nor dawdling. At the top step, he looked down owlishly at Near on the floor. He was waiting for the next prompt.
Maybe the universe had spun a wheel, and Near had lucked out with the world's strangest, most guileless home invader. Weird? Yes. But aside from cryptic stories and a nap, he had extracted nothing. (The gin, after all, was back in the bottle.)