Gorgrun and Quince placed the roof on top of the gray shack. Then the dragons returned to the ground and surrounded the dissenters with their bodies. Most of the dissenters were too dazed or injured to do anything, but a few of them, like Frieda’s right-hand man, were yelling horrendous things in protest. Nevertheless, Thisbe and Rohan began assessing the injuries, and soon Fifer spotted Henry, Thatcher, and Carina heading over there to help.

Fifer turned and saw that Sean had found Ava and Lukas. Quince helped them down, and Sean hugged the two tightly and listened to the story of their adventure on the ghost dragon’s back. Fifer swallowed hard. Reuniting Ava and Lukas with their parents—Fifer had made that happen. That was worth something, wasn’t it?

Feeling numb, Fifer looked away and tuned in to the conversation around her. Claire Morning and Gunnar Haluki had found Aaron and the rest. They exchanged quick explanations of which rooms they’d been in this whole time.

When Thisbe and Rohan returned, Fifer shook the wrinkles out of the robe and held it up by the collar, then draped it loosely over her arm. She glanced at Aaron. “Whenever you feel up to it… I think everything is in place now that the roof is there.”

Thisbe turned toward her brother. “We should hurry so Henry can get to the medicine.” She hesitated, then added, “I hope the inside of the mansion will be magically fixed too, like the tubes and staircase and everything. It was a real disaster in there.”

Fifer nodded and stayed uncharacteristically quiet.

Thisbe noticed. She glanced at Fifer and said stiffly, “You did a good job. I was reviving Asha and Rohan in the kitchen, but I could hear you talking to Frieda and… well, you did everything right.”

Fifer blinked hard. The lump in her throat stopped her from answering.

“Fifer, you’re the one responsible for this?” Aaron asked.

Fifer eyed her brother, unsure how to take his question. Was he mad? Or just surprised? Her stomach clenched. What if he was mad? “Yes,” she said quietly, then cleared her throat. “Simber helped. And Thisbe, obviously. And Ishibashi. And… well, everyone.”

“Well done, Fifer,” said Ms. Morning. “That must have been hard. Are you okay?”

Fifer wanted to say no. She wanted somebody to hug her. She wanted to crawl into her bed and never come back out. But she just stood still. “Yes. I’m okay.”

Aaron looked up at Fifer. His lips were parched and peeling. “We didn’t have much longer in there, if you know what I mean,” he said earnestly. “Octavia was working hard on a 3-D window, but it kept going wrong. We were getting desperate for water. I kept fainting. If another day had passed, we might not have survived.” He paused. “I know what you did was probably hard for you. But however it happened, it was the right thing.”

Fifer’s chin quivered and sobs threatened, but she held them back. “Thanks. I—um. Thank you.” She held out the robe to him once more. “Are you ready?”