Fifer Stowe was certainly losing her mind too, watching what Frieda’s people were doing and knowing all of this was happening in the name of her dead brother, Alex… and her living one, Aaron. After watching from afar on the Island of Legends following a trip to Warbler to research Queen Eagala’s past, Fifer and Sky set out for the shore of Artimé in Scarlet’s skiff. They’d hesitated to return, knowing Fifer’s life was in danger after Frieda Stubbs’s reckless threats. But they couldn’t stay away while their friends were in the midst of the fight. They sat in the boat for a few moments, taking in the puzzling and frightening scene, looking for allies, and trying to decide how best to go about helping.

One of the worst parts of it all was how disorganized and muddled everything seemed to be. Fifer had experienced and led battles before, and it had always been obvious who the enemy was. Whether it was the green- and blue-uniformed soldiers or the Revinir herself, there was no mistaking friend or foe. But here? There were no identifying uniforms. No line drawn down the middle of Artimé’s lawn separating the Frieda Stubbs supporters from the Aaron Stowe supporters, so that people could see who stood with whom.

There was definitely a visible small contingent on the lawn that Fifer and Sky knew they could trust: Aaron Stowe, the Ranger-Holiday family, Samheed and Lani Burkesh-Haluki. Henry and Thatcher Haluki and their children, Ibrahim and Clementi and the rest. Sky’s brother, Crow, and Scarlet from Warbler. And Claire Morning and Gunnar Haluki from Quill. Statues Florence and Ms. Octavia, of course. But where was Simber? And who else was with them? What methods were they using to determine who to attack? Maybe they were merely defending themselves and going solely after Frieda Stubbs.

“Do you see her?” Sky asked, holding her hand up to shield her eyes from the bright sunrise and peering at the mansion and lawn.

“Who do you mean?” asked Fifer. “Frieda?”

“Yes.”

“All I can see,” said Fifer angrily, “is our precious mansion being torn to shreds by people who have clearly become an unruly and dangerous mob. It’s bad enough when I go around breaking all the windows accidentally. But this is a brawl, inside and out. Look there, through the front windows. Dining chairs scattered in the entryway, glass everywhere, statues hobbling around with broken limbs.” She shook her head. “Where do we start?”

“I could really use a weapon,” Sky said. She didn’t use much magic. “I’m feeling pretty vulnerable here without one. I have my dagger,” she said, patting the sheath at her hip, “but I think a sword would be a little more helpful.”

“Samheed keeps tons of extra swords in the theater—all the ones that used to belong to the pirates that you fought off years ago. Shall we try to get there?” Fifer eyed the path to the mansion. “I think we have a decent chance if we can make it to the tubes.”