Frieda wore a strange smile as she addressed the crowd of dissenters once more. “I think we should clear every single one of the traitors out of this place and take control of the mansion as you suggest: for the good and safety of Artimé. Don’t let any of our opposition in through these doors to stock up on food, water, and especially components! If they resist or try to force their way in, sideline them. And if you see any of the Stowes, bring them to me so I can take care of them myself.”

Frieda smirked, as if imagining that scenario, then continued. “Now, everyone take your places guarding the doors and windows. My personal search team will comb the mansion to scare up anyone who might be hiding. Be ready for attacks from both directions—inside and out. The Revinir could show up at any moment!”

The people scattered, some near panic as they searched the skies through the window for the ominous dragon-monster woman none of them had actually ever seen before.

Fifer gripped the stair spindles and sank lower, keeping her eye on the people in the crowd. There were still some who cringed or shifted uncomfortably at Frieda’s harsh language, as if they felt some sense of appall at fighting against their fellow Artiméans or even kicking them out of the mansion. Some of them took the threat of war seriously, having fought before. And none of them had ever been through a civil war before. Fighting neighbor against neighbor, Unwanted against Unwanted? The thought was horrific. It went against everything Artimé stood for. It defied all the principles that Mr. Today had employed when building it. Added to that, the very people Frieda wanted them to fight against had been the same ones who’d saved Artimé time and time again.

But nobody spoke up, so Frieda’s words stood without opposition. And slowly those words found a comfortable spot inside the minds of the listeners and seemed a little bit more normal than they’d seemed a moment before.

Not to Fifer and Sky, though. Sky turned and whispered to Fifer, “It’s a reverse siege. They want to keep us locked out of the mansion instead of barricading us inside.” Begrudgingly she added, “It’s actually a really clever plan—for them. I hope Florence and the others saw this coming and gathered as many components as they could.” She glanced over her shoulder, measuring their options as to the best escape route. “We have to get you out of here before somebody follows through on that reckless threat and hands you over to Frieda. Simber was right to be so concerned. I can hardly believe I’m saying this, but I have no doubt that woman will harm you, Fifer, if she gets a chance. Don’t take her words lightly.”

Fifer’s heart raced. “But if we leave, Frieda wins—she’s driving us out. We don’t want to make that mistake again! This is our world! Our home! And what about Simber? The 3-D door is right there at Frieda’s feet! We can get him out. We need him!”