by Lisa McMann
She thought about Sky—maybe she could give Fifer some guidance. Sky was always steady and calming during a crisis. And she’d been there for Fifer when they went to Warbler to collect Queen Eagala’s things. Which reminded her that those materials were still in the skiff, anchored just offshore. Fifer would have to fetch them and bring them in for Thisbe. Though a tiny part of her didn’t feel like doing anything generous for her sister at the moment.
Fifer got dressed and brushed her hair. She slipped the robe on over her clothes and vest and tiptoed out of the bedroom, pausing for a moment in the living quarters when she noticed a new note on the blackboard. Desdemona had put up a congratulations card for Fifer, signed by all the other blackboards in Artimé. It gave Fifer mixed feelings, bringing a sentimental tear to her eye alongside a chill of worry. But it also reminded her that there was so much to accomplish today. And that sending a general blackboard message to everyone in Artimé was probably something she should do to ease some of the questions people might have. She’d talk to Florence about what to say.
Perhaps that note could wait until after Fifer started releasing dissenters, if that was what she decided she ought to do.… She was still conflicted about how to punish them. She went out into the hallway and saw Sky exiting a room down the hall. Fifer waited for her.
“Hi,” said Fifer, feeling a bit awkward in the conspicuous robe.
Sky smiled and came up to Fifer, giving her a warm embrace. “How are you?”
Fifer gripped Sky tightly, almost as if holding on for dear life. When Sky tried to pull away, Fifer didn’t let go.
“Oh, Fifer,” said Sky, hugging Fifer again and patting her back. “This has been rough, hasn’t it?”
Fifer kept her face pressed into Sky’s shoulder. She couldn’t speak for a moment. But then she took a deep breath. “I’m struggling with some stuff.”
“Tell me,” said Sky.
Fifer released the embrace and pressed her lips together, lifting her eyes to meet Sky’s encouraging gaze. “There’s this voice in my head… my conscience or whatever. It keeps reminding me that I killed a fellow Unwanted. I feel terrible about it, and I can’t seem to tune it out.”
Sky turned, and the two started walking down the hallway toward the balcony. “I can imagine that must feel very strange,” she said. “But let’s explain the facts to your conscience. From what I heard, you weren’t even close to figuring out Mr. Today’s clue. Do you know how long it took me and Alex to figure out how to bring the world back the first time with one of Mr. Today’s little clues?”
Fifer looked up. “How long?”
“Days,” said Sky. “Many days. If you’d stuck to the route of figuring out this clue and it also took you days, guess what?”
“Aaron would be dead.”
“And he’s not the only one. Clementi and Samheed would be too. And it’s not like Frieda would have given you time to work on it. Fifer—she tried to kill you! Multiple times! You acted in self-defense, and your quick moves and bravery make you a hero. You saved the lives of people who were unfairly trapped by that dictator and her followers.”
They reached the balcony and stopped at the railing. Sky’s words acted like a salve to the critical voice in Fifer’s head. “She did try to kill me,” Fifer admitted. “Four times, I think it was.”
“Let me ask you something,” said Sky. “If you could have killed the Revinir as she attacked Alex, and you knew it would save him, would you have done it?”
“Of course!” said Fifer, indignant. “I’d do anything to save Alex! I’d do anything now to bring him back!”
“And do you feel that same fierce love for Aaron?”
Fifer stared. “Yes,” she whispered. “Probably more. If I’m being honest.” Aaron had always been there for Fifer, while her good relationship with Alex had just begun when his life was taken away.
“Please, Fifer,” said Sky. “Just think about how life would be today if Aaron were dead. If Clementi and Samheed were dead. Imagine that for a moment. And then think about if one of Frieda’s lethal spells had hit you. Killed you.” Sky was quiet for a long moment as tears came to her eyes. “Think about Thisbe. Think about me! And Lani. Henry and Thatcher. Think about Seth. And Dev. And everyone here who has ever crossed paths with and had their lives made better by you or one of the others.”
Fifer closed her eyes as tears dripped down. Her heart ached as she thought about finding Aaron and the others dead instead of alive. She could hardly bear it.
“Fifer,” Sky went on more forcefully now, “Frieda Stubbs was just as much an enemy of Artimé as the Revinir is. And you have delivered this land from her.” She sniffed, then added, “I want you to wear that robe with more pride than any other head mage has ever worn it, for you have done more to earn it than anyone who came before you. Do you understand me? Are you listening?”
Fifer opened her eyes. She lifted her chin, and though it quivered, she kept it high. “I am listening,” she said. What Sky had told her made Fifer see everything differently. It eased her biggest worries. And while she imagined that voice would never go away, Sky’s words had just cut it down to a whisper. “Thank you.”
Sky wiped her eyes and smiled. “If you ever again feel like you’re doubting your actions and your right to be in this position of leadership, come talk to me. And I’ll set you straight as many times as I need to, until you can let go of that awful voice in your head and see your bravery for what it is—true dedication, selflessness, and heroism.”
Fifer nodded. “I will.”
“Good. Now… is there anything else you need to talk through before we start our day?”
Fifer thought about mentioning Thisbe and their fight. But that felt wrong. Not only was Fifer spent after all they’d worked through so far, but more importantly she didn’t feel right about bringing it up when she and Thisbe had agreed to talk things through. “I think that’s it for this session,” Fifer said with a small smile.
“Good,” said Sky, giving Fifer another hug. “Let’s hit this day hard.” With that they descended the stairs. “This place is looking better,” Sky said with a critical eye sweeping over the main entry area. “Someone was working overnight.”
“The statues, no doubt,” said Fifer. She hastily wiped the last of her tears with her sleeve and took a cleansing breath. They found Simber guarding the doorway to the hospital ward. People were talking and moving about in the room. When they saw Fifer pass by, a couple of them started shouting. “Let us out of here!” and “We said we’re sorry!” and “We want our rooms back!” Then one, accusingly: “Did you kill Frieda Stubbs?”
Fifer felt a chill go down her spine. Sky squeezed her hand to remind her of their talk. Fifer squeezed back and exchanged a glance with Simber. “I’ll return shortly,” she told him.
“Take yourrr time,” Simber drawled. “They arrren’t going anywherrre.”
Though Fifer had expected the dissenters would soon discover that she’d been the one to put an end to Frieda Stubbs, the first accusation of it out loud had been jarring. “Let’s step outside,” Fifer said smoothly. “We have some things to collect from Scarlet’s skiff.”
“Indeed we do,” said Sky.
Fifer and Sky continued out the front door and to the shore. “Are you okay?” Sky asked.
“I will be,” Fifer said. “I’m… trying to be.” They waded out to the skiff, which had only been slightly damaged during the battle due to its location away from the action. Thankfully, the books and supplies they’d gathered from Eagala’s throne room were unharmed by the battle and just as they’d left them.
Fifer and Sky brought them into the mansion and dropped them off in Ms. Octavia’s art classroom for Thisbe to study later. When they entered that room, they were surprised to see Aaron, looking disheveled, curled up and reading in a comfortable chair in the corner.
“Have you been here all night?” Fifer asked him. She and Sky set their piles of Eagala’s journals on a table.
“Yes,” said Fifer. “That’s how Thisbe went to get Kaylee and Ishibashi.”
“Great. Well, you can put a tentative checkmark next to ‘fixing the tubes’ on your list, because I’m making progress.” He smiled wearily. “How are you? Did you sleep well?”
“Yes,” said Fifer, even though she hadn’t. “I was really tired. But now…” She glanced out the classroom door and across the entryway to the hospital ward, where the few troublemakers were growing louder, protesting their restrictions and shouting out about Frieda’s death. Fifer took a deep breath and let it out, remembering what Sky had said. “I need to make some decisions. I’m going to do interviews, but I also feel like I shouldn’t be naive and start trusting them all. They did some pretty horrible things.”
“And some of them are threatening you for doing the right thing and saving Artimé,” said Sky. “That is not okay.”
“Do you feel like any of them are sorry for what they did?” asked Aaron. “Are there any who didn’t really take part?”
“Some of them,” said Fifer, “but does that mean we should just forgive them and be okay with it?”
“We shouldn’t excuse complacency,” said Sky.
“I think I know what I want to do with the worst of them,” said Fifer.
Aaron gazed pointedly at his sister, as if willing her to remember something about his past without him having to say it. He’d made worse mistakes than these dissenters… who just happened to be the very people who hadn’t been able to forgive him. As if on cue, Samheed walked in. Aaron shifted his gaze out the window.
“Morning, everybody,” said Samheed. He glanced behind him as Thisbe and Rohan appeared together and joined them.
“What’s going on?” Thisbe asked. She didn’t look at Fifer and took a seat at a nearby table, sipping occasionally from a steaming-hot mug.
“Impromptu meeting?” Rohan, also carrying a mug, sat down next to her.
“It appears to be,” said Sky. “Before I forget, Thisbe, we brought you some things.” She pointed at the stacks that she and Fifer had carried inside, but didn’t elaborate, and Fifer didn’t add anything. While Thisbe glanced curiously at the journals and papers, Sky studied Aaron, then glanced at Samheed. She wondered how the two had gotten along stuck in the library together. “Fifer, how can we help you with this dilemma? I think Aaron could serve you well in the interview process.”
Fifer nodded slowly. “Yes, you may be right. I was thinking several of us could be on a panel. Lani too, maybe?”
Samheed nodded. “She’s coming down shortly.”
“Great,” said Fifer. “This feels like we’re getting somewhere. Maybe we could give the people a preliminary quiz. Like, ‘If you could choose any head mage, alive or dead, who would it be?’ And if they write down someone awful, that would tell us something.”
Samheed raised an eyebrow. “Maybe make it multiple choice. Put Frieda on there.”
“And all the other head mages,” said Aaron, turning his head. “Mr. Today, Alex, me, and Fifer. Might want to put Claire on there, too.” He laughed sardonically. “I’m certain none of them will choose me.”
“That sort of test could be disconcerting for the current head mage,” Rohan said quietly, looking at Fifer. “You may wish to prepare yourself for some surprise answers.”
“It’s fine,” Fifer said. She knew she was in for some rough times ahead. At the moment, after her talk with Sky, she felt somewhat prepared. “I know a lot of them wouldn’t prefer me, especially after that unfortunate glass-breaking incident at the costume ball. And, well, I killed their leader. Obviously that’s on many of their minds.” A shadow crossed her face, but she continued. “I’ve dealt with people in Artimé running away from me my whole life, and talking disparagingly about me and Thisbe. I think… I can take it.”
Thisbe glanced at Fifer and caught her eye for a brief moment before Fifer looked away. They’d both been the source of much scorn over the years. That didn’t make it hurt less, but it had taught them to deal with adversity. It made them both think about how they needed to stick together, especially during tough times like these. Yet… they had to figure out how to get back on the same page first.
Lani came rolling down the staircase and curved into the classroom nibbling on a fruity pastry. Samheed quickly filled her in.
“Oh yes,” she said, when she heard about Fifer’s panel idea. “I want to be a part of this. And all of us have different perspectives on people. Samheed and I have had some of them as students, and we know them in that capacity. Others have been aggressive toward Aaron. It’ll be hard to admit them back into the mansion unless they show true remorse.”
“And if they don’t?” Aaron asked. “Then what? Banish them? Put them in confinement like they did to us? Are people allowed to have differing opinions in Artimé? Where’s the line?”
The questions were met with uncomfortable silence. After a minute, Fifer spoke. “I don’t want a jail here in Artimé. And of course we wouldn’t banish anyone for having a different opinion. I’m talking about the people who intentionally endangered your lives and who continue to be a danger to Artimé. After thinking about it overnight, I’m not opposed to sending the worst of them to another island for a while.”
“Which one of our allies do you want to terrorize?” asked Samheed, sounding a bit condescending. “That hardly seems fair.”
Fifer crossed her arms and looked hard at her former instructor. “I wouldn’t think of terrorizing our friends,” she said. “There’s an island that’s currently unoccupied.”
“Which one? The volcano island?” asked Lani.
“No. The Island of Dragons.”
Samheed’s jaw dropped. And then he gave a wry smile. “Never underestimate a Stowe,” he said. “When will I ever learn?”
Aaron gave him a pained stare. “Clearly never.”
Everyone else remained quiet, thinking about the logistics of turning the Island of Dragons into a temporary holding place. It made sense—there would be easy access to food and freshwater. And it wouldn’t be hard for Simber to glide over there now and then to check on them.
Then Aaron spoke gently to his sister. “I appreciate that you want me on your panel,” he said. “But I will decline. I’ve caused too much contention with the dissenters already. You’ll present as a more unified jury without me in the mix.”
Samheed frowned, but then his face relaxed, and he said with a hint of kindness, “I think you’re right, Aaron. That’s big of you to see it that way. But”—he stiffened slightly, as if regretting his generosity—“your opinion of the questionable ones will actually be valuable.”
“I agree,” Fifer said, turning to Aaron. “Will you at least be nearby to listen in?”
“So now we have spies?” asked Aaron sharply.
Fifer’s lips parted. Then she closed them. “Yes, Aaron. I’ve got no problem with spies. This is a serious situation. And we have precedence for that. Charlie and Matilda spied on you in Quill for years.”
Lani laughed aloud.
Aaron’s lips contorted as he tried not to. “Good point. Very well, then. I will be a spy.”
Thisbe stayed quiet, sipping her tea. Then she offered, “One Stowe on the panel might be enough.”
Fifer glanced up. “You don’t want to help?” she asked.
“That’s not what I said,” Thisbe replied. “I just think the panel needs to be more impartial. If we put the whole family up there, it could be seen as unfair. I think having you is enough.”
“That
’s an excellent point, Thisbe,” Lani said. “This isn’t a family rulership, and we don’t want to paint it as such. Fifer alone is in charge. No one should think otherwise.”
“Oh,” said Fifer, feeling torn. “Yeah. I see that.” She was losing important panel members left and right. “But what about the dragon knowledge you have about the good and evil levels? Rohan, can you do it?”
“I don’t have any dragon qualities,” Rohan reminded her. “Not to mention I need to be invested in my training sessions with Florence and the others. And remember that just because someone contains more evil than good, that doesn’t necessarily make them a bad person.” He glanced at Thisbe.
Thisbe shifted uncomfortably. She felt self-conscious about that. Like people didn’t really understand what that meant—even she didn’t really know. But it wasn’t as simplistic as it sounded. She frowned as she thought. “I agree that having insight like that could be useful. Why not use an actual dragon? I think Gorgrun and Quince would feel honored to help, if you ask them.”
“Over and over, since they won’t remember,” said Samheed under his breath. Lani gave him a look.
“That’s… actually a great idea,” Fifer admitted. “They’d be good to have around anyway—not only are they wise, but they’re intimidating, and they’ll provide an extra element of seriousness to this.”
“If I may make a suggestion,” said Rohan, “perhaps Maiven Taveer would be an excellent impartial judge of character as well.”
“Now, that’s a fine idea,” said Samheed, sitting up. “She’s a wonderful human being.”
Lani agreed. “She’d be perfect.”
“She’s… also family,” Aaron pointed out.
Fifer frowned. “She doesn’t really feel like family to me. Not yet, anyway. I’m keeping her on the panel. She’ll have valuable advice.” She tapped her lips, feeling a bit better now that things were falling into place. “So it’s me, Lani and Samheed, Maiven Taveer, one or both of the dragons… and Aaron as a spy hiding out in here? Maybe Seth and Carina and Claire can sub in if someone needs a break.”
