“I saved a lot of people,” she whispered, trying to drown out the other voice. But it persisted. Fifer looked around at the devastated property and felt a heaviness she’d never known before. This place felt toxic in its current state, and she’d caused it by killing the head mage. “It’s too much,” Fifer murmured, clutching the robe against her chest. Then: “Get a hold of yourself.”

Once things were restored to normal, Fifer knew she’d need someone to talk to who would support her and tell her she did the right thing. She looked for Thisbe, who was instructing the ghost dragons to lift the roof off the dissenters. If only the two were close again, Fifer could talk to her. She’d be the one who’d understand more than anyone. But things were too precarious right now, and there was no time to patch them up. Fifer blinked hard and turned away. Maybe the others were ready to restore the world so they could move on from this.

The people of Artimé had never been so prepared to bring things back to normal. They had the robe. They knew the spell. And everybody was out of the gray shack. Fifer returned to Aaron and her other friends to see how they were faring and gauge their readiness to take the next step.

Thisbe and Rohan arrived right after her, and before Fifer could say anything, Thisbe immediately started giving a report about the state of the dissenters, whom Fifer had hardly thought about until now. “There are some people with serious injuries under that roof,” said Thisbe. “I told the dragons to move the roof onto the shack. We want to do that before we restore the world, right? Or else it would crush the people under it when it turns back into the mansion roof.”

“Yes, exactly,” said Aaron, still seated on the ground and looking dazed and disheveled. “Definitely put the roof back on before restoring the world so it’ll transform with the rest of the mansion.” His voice was gritty, and his normally clean-shaven face wore a thick stubbly growth.

“But won’t the dissenters escape?” Fifer squinted at the people, many of whom were in no shape to run away. “Without Florence and Simber they are basically unattended right now. I don’t want them getting away.”

“We thought of that,” Thisbe said coolly. “The dragons are handling it.”

“Our people will help as well,” offered Rohan.

“Great,” said Aaron, closing his eyes.

The voice crept back into Fifer’s head. Sure, she’d saved these people. But others had been hurt in the process. Had killing Frieda really been the only way to get the people out of the remote rooms? Had Fifer exhausted all other options? Couldn’t they have tried once more to get the secret hallway door to work? Fifer pushed the voice away and watched Thisbe organize the other black-eyed children. They surrounded the dissenters, breathing warning blasts of fire at the ones who were trying to leave the area and letting the people know they meant business. Thisbe had arrived with an impressive team on dragons, and it was thanks to them that Fifer and the others were able to control the situation now. Thisbe had really become a strong and smart leader, and Fifer hadn’t realized it until now. There was so much she didn’t know about her twin. It made them feel even more distant.