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“They must have hidden out in Faerie,” said Kit. “Because of course the Queen would protect her son.”

“What’s Thule?” said Jinfeng, looking dismayed. “What other Jace?”

“You know how other dimensions are created by the splitting of timelines?” said Ty, although Jinfeng didn’t look as if she did know that. “Thule is another world. A place where we lost the Mortal War and the world was overrun with demons. We found out recently that the Jace from that world is here, in our world. But we didn’t know he’d brought Ash with him.”

Jinfeng nodded her head, her dark braids swinging. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Ash was making himself at home at Court when I left. He’s charming; everyone fawns over him, though perhaps that’s just because he’s the Queen’s heir.” She looked between Kit and Ty, alarm and confusion dawning in her expression. “But—I don’t understand. I shouldn’t be able to tell you any of this. The Queen placed a geas upon the members of the Seelie Court, not to speak of certain things about Ash to outsiders. To anyone not part of the Court, and you are not part of the Court. Far from it.”

“Maybe it’s because Kit is the Heir,” Ty said. “Maybe that circumvents the geas.”

“Or because all the entrances to Faerie are blocked,” Kit added. “Maybe the geas can’t reach you.”

“Perhaps,” Jinfeng said, a faint line of worry between her eyebrows. “Anyway. Let me show you the testing room.”

She pushed the door open wide and fluttered past them, into the room beyond. Cold air poured from the doorway, making Kit shiver as he followed her. He wondered if Ty was chilly too, and if he should offer him his jacket.

But Ty had already slipped past him, into the dark. Jinfeng flew upward to hang her lantern from a hook on the wall, bathing the room in yellowish light. It was entirely empty.

“There’s nothing here,” Kit said, turning around in a circle. The room resembled the bottom of a cistern: stone walls, damp stone floor, rotted wooden beams spanning the ceiling.

“Not ‘nothing,’ ” said Jinfeng, glittering as she descended through the gloom like a Christmas tree ornament.

“Look,” Ty said, poking at the ground with the toe of his shoe. “There’s writing on the floor.”

Kit went over to join him. Ty was right; there was a rectangle cut into the floor, each side perfectly straight. Within that frame, words had been carved into the stone:

Where there are two, you have one.

Where there is only one, you have none.

“Riddles.” Ty shook his head. “I’m not usually good at those. Too much metaphorical language.”

“I don’t love them either. Too much faerie language.” Kit sensed Ty waiting for him to go on, but he didn’t. Now wasn’t the time to talk about his strange, strained relationship with Faerie and everything it represented in his life.

“When you’re thinking about mysteries, you have to think about motive,” said Ty. “This pathway, all these tests, were built with the motive of getting Auraline into Faerie. The First Heir. This was built for her by someone who knew her, cared about her. So these tests would have been specific to her.”

“I hardly know anything about her.”

“I know,” Ty said, “but you know what being the Heir is like. How it feels.”

Like a weight, Kit thought. Like pressure. He remembered being knocked down by a wave once, on the beach in Los Angeles. He remembered the moment he’d realized he couldn’t fight it or swim against it. That it was skimming him across the floor of the ocean like a stone. That there was nothing to hold on to. He’d nearly blacked out before his father had pulled him from the water.

Auraline must have felt like that when she had fled to the mortal world. Abandoned everything: blood, responsibility, a throne. Kit envied her. He knew what it was like to feel as if you had no—

Where there is only one, you have none.

He knelt down and touched his fingertips to the stone, where the words were carved. It was cold under his fingertips. “Choices,” Kit said. “The answer is choices.”

For a moment nothing happened, and Kit rose to his feet, ready to be disappointed. Suddenly the rectangle in the floor began to crumble away to dust, revealing a wide staircase that disappeared into gloom. The cold, moss-smelling air that wafted up from the stairs explained the chill in the room. Jinfeng gasped.

“Good job,” Ty said softly, and despite himself, Kit felt a shock of warmth at the words.

Ty took his witchlight out of his pocket, letting the pale white light grow slowly. It threw his face into sharp relief, but did little to illuminate the gloom below.

“Jinfeng,” said Kit. “What’s down there?”

She fluttered closer, holding her lantern. “I’ve no idea. This is really very exciting. The Order of the Briar has been around for a hundred years, and no one has ever solved even a single puzzle.”

“Has anyone ever tried?” Kit asked.