“I don’t know.” She got up, still holding the tiny pencil that had come with the paper, and took the note back from Rohan. “I should probably reply, but I don’t quite know what to say. I’m so disappointed, but I’m also scared for them. All my friends, my family . . .” She shook her head in frustration. “But I have friends and family here, too! I feel like I’m being torn in half. And I can’t just leave after what happened with Dev. I did that to him.”

Rohan didn’t argue, even though he didn’t think Dev’s situation was all Thisbe’s fault. Dev had his own will, his own mind, and he’d walked out on his own accord. “Whatever you decide to do, I support you. And you know we’ll be glad to help you prepare if you decide to go. We can try to track down Drock. . . .”

Thisbe pocketed the items and pressed her fingers to her temples. “I don’t know about Drock. When I saw him the other day, I was pretty sure he wasn’t with us anymore. And I’m afraid what could happen if we went out looking for him—the dragons must have been ordered to look for us by now. If Drock is being controlled, he could attack us. And even if Drock isn’t under the Revinir’s control, I’m sure she’ll send a fleet of dragons after us if she finds out Drock and I tried to leave.”

“It’s Drock’s absence that would clue her in, though, not yours. She knows where he is. But she doesn’t know where you are. If you feel like you need to go, you could take the volcano network like before.”

Thisbe thought about that for a moment. “I think Florence was really hoping for some help from a dragon, though. I’m not enough of a help to make much difference alone.”

“Interesting. A dragon would end fights in a hurry, wouldn’t it?” mused Rohan. He reached out and gave Thisbe a quick hug. “Why don’t you get some breakfast and keep thinking. I’ll be in the weapons room with the others.”

Thisbe nodded. Rohan left, and she went to the kitchen and prepared a meal, thinking deeply about what to do. She wanted to ask Florence for more details, but she wasn’t sure how much room she had on the paper or how many words she could send. Was anybody dead? Or hurt? What did a civil war look like, exactly? Was the mansion still standing? Whose side was everybody on?