Knowes shape themselves to fit the subconscious desires of their keepers. That’s why Shadowed Hills has so many gardens; that’s why my mother’s hall never had any mirrors or locks on the doors. I was counting on that to take us to the body. I would never have tried it with a moving target or with anyone less tied to the County than Jan . . . but the King is literally the land in Faerie, and if she were dead, the knowe would want us to find her.

We didn’t pass anyone as we walked. I was following the patterns in the tile and the directions indicated by careless arrows on bulletin boards, trusting anything that looked like it could be a sign. It seemed to be working. Our route was leading us through more and more places that I recognized, taking us onto familiar ground.

Quentin looked at me as we walked, asking, “Is she dead?”

“Probably.” I studied our surroundings, finally starting for the door that seemed most aligned with the scuff marks on the floor.

“Why didn’t they wake us sooner?”

“Because that would have made it real,” said Connor. We both looked toward him, and he shrugged. “As long as they were looking on their own, it wasn’t happening.”

The door led to the cafeteria kitchen, revealing a second entrance previously concealed by the cupboards on that wall. The cafeteria was spotless, all traces of my ritual circle and its messy results wiped away by Elliot’s magic. I wondered how long we’d been asleep before he gave in to the urge to clean.

“Come on,” I said. “We’re getting closer.”

“But what are we doing?” Quentin was looking increasingly frustrated.

“We’re letting the knowe lead us. Jan was Countess, and the land will be in mourning if she’s dead. It’ll want us to find her.” I stepped into the hall, noting without surprise that we were only a few doors down from Jan’s office. There wasn’t much chance of finding her there—they’d almost certainly looked there first—but it was a start. Even endings begin somewhere.

“How can that even work?” Now Quentin looked perplexed. From his expression, Connor got it, but was willing to let me be the one to explain.

“The King is the land, Quentin. That’s all. That’s how it’s always worked in Faerie.” The door to Jan’s office was standing ajar. Someone inside was crying. I pulled my hand out of Connor’s, signaling him and Quentin to stay where they were. When the sound didn’t change, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The office lights were off and the shades were drawn, casting the room into an artificial twilight. I squinted. “Hello? Jan?” The sobbing continued, bitter and brokenhearted. “Jan?”

“That’s not her,” said Quentin, as he and Connor stepped into the room.