Simber turned sharply toward Sky, her words clearly cutting into him. “I was crrreated to be the helpmate of the head mage of Arrrtimé,” he growled. “That duty courrrses thrrrough me. I don’t have a choice.”

“Nonsense,” said Fifer angrily. “That’s not the only thing you’re made of. When Mr. Today created you, he infused so many good things into you. Courage, for one, and a sense of right and wrong. You can’t tell me that those things are less important than your duty to the head mage.”

“Besides,” Thisbe argued, “do you really think Mr. Today intended for you to be loyal to someone who is destroying the world he created to save Unwanted children? Be real, Simber.”

“The twins are right,” Florence said. “And if you don’t see that, or feel it inside, Simber, then I have lost all respect for you. You may as well go back inside that theater and wait for your new master to let you out.”

“Too bad Frieda doesn’t have the 3-D door anymore,” Fifer remarked. “You’ll be stuck in there for good.”

Simber began pacing, stewing over the words, and his low growl crescendoed into a frustrated roar. “You don’t underrrstand!” he said. “This isn’t something I can change. It’s the firrrst law of my existence! Therrre is no debating it!”

Fifer stepped forward and walked with him. “Simber,” she said softly. “Have you even tried to think of it a different way?”

“Yes, Simber,” said Thisbe, moving to stand with Florence. “You know in your heart, whether you admit it or not, that Frieda Stubbs isn’t the rightful mage. Only someone with Artimé’s best interests in mind should rule this world. That’s pretty basic. If Frieda keeps going, there won’t be anything left of it.” She paused. “I never knew Mr. Today, but I can’t imagine that he would want you to be loyal to anyone who wishes to destroy everything Artimé stands for.”

Florence closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. “The wisdom and maturity in these young women is the only thing keeping me from putting this door back up and shoving you back inside that theater right now, Simber. They’re being way more patient than I would be.”

Fifer couldn’t help glancing sidelong at Thisbe after Florence’s observation, but Thisbe pointedly didn’t look Fifer’s way and instead stayed laser focused on Simber. They may have been both making sense, but they were far from together on it.

Florence put her hands on her hips and stared at her friend. “Now, Simber. Where do you stand? After all of that, do you still declare your loyalty to Frieda Stubbs?”

Simber turned sharply and kept pacing. “I need to think!” he muttered.

Florence hesitated and glanced at Fifer, who nodded.

“Let’s give him a minute,” Fifer said. She retreated to allow the cheetah time without her breathing down his neck. Florence and Thisbe followed, and they all stood stonily and waited for the cheetah to come to his senses.