Fifer was struck by the scene. A pang of emotion ran through her for her friends. Despite the dissenters attacking them, there was no question that Henry’s team would care for them when hurt. This was what Artimé was supposed to be like all the time. This was what Fifer wanted to bring back to this magical land: Love. Kindness. Peace. And a renewed appreciation for the reason Mr. Today had created this world in the first place. But was that possible after what had happened? After what Frieda had done to create the frenzy and after what Fifer had done to stop it? Had things gone too far to turn back? Some of these dissenters were responsible for destroying the tubes, knowing full well that people were trapped inside. Could they ever be forgiven? What punishment should they face? And… would they accept Fifer as their head mage? She knew some of them wouldn’t.

“Congratulations, Fifer,” Florence said warmly, though she held her hand out as a warning to the dissenters to stay in their places. “That robe looks just right on you.”

“Thanks. It’s a bit too long in the sleeves, but Sky can tailor it for me later,” Fifer said. “How are things going here?” She lowered her voice and eyed the dissenters, continuing to wonder how they felt about another Stowe being the head mage—one that had ended the life of the leader they’d followed. Had they heard what had happened yet? Did they know Fifer was responsible? At present no one was outright challenging her.

But the whispers among the captured ones had begun now that the world was restored and they saw Fifer wearing the robe. Fifer shifted uneasily, wondering what the people were thinking about her. Did they hate her because of all the lies Frieda had told them? Did they still resent her for the once uncontrollable magic she possessed and the danger she’d put them in for years just by existing? It was unfortunately likely that both were true. Fifer nodded primly to acknowledge the dissenters’ looks and whispers, then stood up straighter and lifted her chin. She was their leader now, and she wasn’t going to be intimidated. But standing here, looking at them in their pitiful state, gave Fifer an idea. She was, in fact, planning to do something that might surprise them. She was going to show them how a real Artiméan should behave. Maybe they’d learn something.

“I think I know what we should do,” Fifer said to Florence. “We can bring the dissenters into the hospital ward to make it easier to treat them. By doing that, we’ll keep them all contained in one space. We’ll post guards at the exit. And…,” she continued, thinking hard, “no one gets released without a thorough interview, conducted by me and others of my choosing.”

“An interview?” asked Florence, sounding unsure.

“Yes. We’ll need to ask each one of them where their loyalties lie and what their intentions are going forward. Find out how they feel about what they’ve done.”