Elaine smiled, a tired smile that wasn’t completely devoid of sympathy, but wasn’t exactly brimming over with it either.

“Eleanor can only make you one passport, Quentin. You’ve used yours. I’m sorry. I can’t let you through.”

This couldn’t be happening. He looked past her to the others, who were standing watching him blankly, the way the passengers in a car look at the driver when he’s been pulled over for speeding. He tried to make his face communicate something, something on the order of, can you believe this shit? But it wasn’t easy. He was being asked to be a good sport, but this cut deeper than that. This was his destiny here, and she wasn’t going to take it away on a technicality.

“There has to be a loophole.” He was still kneeling on the threshold, looking up at her, halfway out the door. He could feel the Far Side pulling at him, bright and joyful, with its own gravity. This was where his story led. “Something. I had no choice, I had to go to the underworld. And not to put too fine a point on it, but if I hadn’t we never would have opened the door. We wouldn’t be here. The world would’ve ended—”

“That is what makes this all the harder.”

“—so you know,” Quentin kept talking, louder, “if I hadn’t gone to the underworld there wouldn’t be any going to the Far Side of the World.” He knew if he stood up it would be over. “There wouldn’t be any Far Side left. All of this would be gone.”

Her expression didn’t change. The woman was psychotic. She wasn’t going to give in, no matter what he said.

“All right,” he said. He waited as long as he could, then he stood up. He held up his hands. “All right.”

If there was one thing he’d learned on this fucking quest it was how to take a punch. He dropped his hands. He was still a king, for Christ’s sake. That would do for a destiny. He had no complaining to do. He’d had more than his fair share of adventures. He knew that. Quentin went over and stood next to Poppy, the woman he’d just tried to abandon. She put her arm around his waist and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’ll be okay,” she said. Her hands felt cool on his. Elaine was closing the door.

“Wait,” Julia said. “I want to go through.”

The agent stopped, but she didn’t look as if she thought she’d made a mistake.

“I’m going through,” Julia said. “My tree is waiting for me there. I can feel it.”

Elaine conferred with her partner quietly, but when they were done they both shook their heads.