“Samheed and Lani came out of the mansion a while ago and werrre trrrying to calm them down,” said Simber. “They gave up and went back inside.” He growled under his breath. “This is out of contrrrol.”

“But what should we do?” said Aaron, raising his voice in frustration. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Simber. You seem to have thoughts—why not just say them?”

Simber glanced at Aaron. “I’m not the head mage of Arrrtimé.”

“I’m asking you for advice!” Aaron said.

“Fine. Then I think you should go back and take charrrge of the situation. Don’t stop until you have the people underrr contrrrol.”

Aaron worked his jaw. He had no idea what he could possibly say to stop the people from protesting him and his sisters.

“And,” Simber continued, “Florrrence and I should go with you forrr prrrotection and intimidation purrrposes.”

“But what about the Revinir?” Aaron spat out.

Florence stepped in. “If you don’t take control of this situation and get everyone prepared as much as you can, there will be mass casualties.” She paused to let the words sink in. “We have to expect the worst, and we need to communicate that clearly. We must get these people settled down and ready to fight for their lives.”

Aaron felt his face grow hot with anger. There was no time for this. He had never asked for this job, and he hated that he was forced to do it, especially under such stressful times. But he wanted to go back to Artimé for a different reason—to tell Kaylee to take Daniel back to the Island of Shipwrecks for a while. For their safety.

“I’ll go with you, Aaron,” said Fifer.

Thisbe shot her sister a frustrated glance. She needed more help than Aaron did. But it just proved even more solidly to Thisbe that Fifer no longer cared about the land of the dragons or their people. And there was nothing that could happen that would change that—Fifer had to want it. Thisbe couldn’t want it for her. But clearly Fifer had a much stronger connection to Artimé than to the black-eyed rulers of Grimere.

“I think you’d better stay with Thisbe,” Aaron told Fifer. He turned sharply to face the others. “I need all of you to work harder than you’ve ever worked while I’m gone.”

Fifer sighed. She was no longer calling any shots—not just in leadership, but even when her own life choices were involved. Her time as group leader was deader than dead. She glanced at Simber, who wasn’t paying any attention to her, then threw her hands up and went back to the small group of mages.