"The Thing about chaos, is that while it disturbs us, it too, forces our hearts to roar in a way we secretly find magnificent." -Christopher Poindexter

We were out of the truck, practically before it stopped moving and splashing through the mud into the arms of our loved ones. Or, in my case, as near as I could be. Ike curled into my embrace. Michael was able to brush my cheek with the backs of his fingers for a moment, tears of joy and relief in his eyes. Donovan hung back but met my gaze and told me in a shaky voice, "I'm so glad you're home."

"I'm glad too, Donny. I missed you guys. I love you so much!"

I saw Denisa, watching us, and squeezed Ike a little tighter. I hadn't mentioned Donovan's concerns to Freyja, but maybe I should.

It is good to have you home, child," Gaia said, enveloping me in a bone-crushing hug.

Eddie tugged on my sleeve like an excited little boy. "Hey, Simone! Come check this out." I followed them to the workshop corner. For years, an old car had sat in front of the factory, slowly being drawn back into the earth. Somehow, they'd managed to drag it inside. They had it up on blocks and disassembled all over the floor like so many Lego bricks for grown men. I had assumed that Eddie and some of the other guys were stripping it for useful parts, so I was astonished to see a little boy, maybe eight years old, covered in grease, standing on a stool in front of the hood, fastening something down with a ratchet. "Hand me that piece," he said without looking. I glanced at Eddie who was grinning ear-to-ear.

"You heard the man," he said.

I picked up the part and handed it to him. It seemed far too bulky to be in such small hands, but the boy deftly placed it in a little nook that was just the right size and began attaching wires and hoses. I had never seen anyone working on a piece of machinery move with such speed and certainty. "How do you know where it goes?" I asked.

The boy just kept working. "I just know stuff."

I looked over at Eddie, who grinned. "Kid's a flippin' genius. His name is Alex. Shows up here one day, just like the rest. 'I knew I could come here and be safe,' he says. Then he just starts building stuff." He motioned for me to follow him over to a large box on the floor. It was a mash of parts: a wooden crate, a piece of screen cut from an old window, yards of copper wire. It didn't look like anything at all that I'd ever seen. "It's a mess, right?" Eddie said.

"It certainly doesn't look like anything you'd find at Brookstone," I said.

Conspiratorially, as though it were a big secret. "It's a two-way radio," he said.

I was duly impressed. "He built a two-way radio out of this stuff?"

"Yeah, but..." He shook his head like I just wasn't getting it. "Look at it!"

I looked. Obviously I was missing something. "OK. I'm looking."

Eddie was exasperated with the level of my ignorance. "There's no power source!"

I frowned. "Well... the copper... maybe he built in a battery of some sort?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Not with this stuff here. Somehow he's got it rigged to suck electricity out of the air. People have been trying to build this since Tesla said it was possible."

I looked at the little boy again, with new eyes. "He 'just knows stuff', eh?"

"So much stuff it'll scare you. There isn't anything this kid couldn't build given time, and space, and a scrap yard full of junk."

It was like the power in a lightning bolt--it could be harnessed to light a city or blow one to pieces. And the world was one big scrap yard full of junk these days. It did scare me.

That night's dinner saw nearly forty people at the table. It seemed all of them were talking at once. The sense of relief that we had come home safe was palpable. It felt good to be loved. I was relieved to be home, too.

After I'd been introduced to Alex, I'd met another new member of our weird extended family, Dmitri. He was beautiful, cocky, and vain, endlessly preening and showing off. He talked practically non-stop. He was Alex's pet parrot; a lovely gray and yellow creature with a questionable personality.

"Είμαι πολύ όμορφη. Πιο όμορφη από ό, τι μπορείτε. Το πιο όμορφο από όλα αυτά."

"What in the world does that mean?" I asked Eddie.

"How the Hell should I know? He babbles like that all day long."

Freyja's wonderful laughter rang out behind us. "It's not babble. It's Greek. He says he's very pretty. Prettier than you. The prettiest of them all."

I looked at the bird. "Looks aren't everything you know," I told him.

"Όλοι μου αγαπά το πιο. Οι άνθρωποι αγαπούν τα όμορφα αυτά."

"What did he say now?" I asked her as she laughed again, harder this time. "You don't want to know. You're going to end up spending your night standing here fighting with a bird."

I rolled my eyes. A sarcastic parrot. That's just exactly what I needed in my life.

When everyone had had their fill of dinner, the older kids shuffled the little ones off, but Donovan didn't want to go and I couldn't bear to let Ike out of my sight. I asked if Michael would hold him while we all talked and he seemed as content as I was to keep our family together.

We related everything we had seen and heard: how the city was up and running, the same and yet so different, and all of the things Tesscati had said to me. Well... most of them. We told about the mob in the city center and how a harsh form of justice was being encouraged among the citizens of the city.

"And what did we miss while we were gone?" I asked.

"There's werewolves in the woods!" Donovan exclaimed. Several adults flinched a little at the abruptness of the announcement. I wondered why. Did they feel the need to break things to me gently?

"Werewolves, huh? Well, do we know anything about them?" I asked in a deliberately calm voice.

"Not really," Michael answered. "A few of us went out hunting the other day. We hadn't been out too long and weren't too far away when we saw another group, through the trees. We couldn't tell what they were doing so we called out to them. And just like that they changed and ran."

"Do you think they were hunting too?"

"Possibly. Probably? There's really no way to know. They could have been hunting or fighting or spying or just setting up a camp. We don't know if they're the ones who killed Mark or if they had nothing to do with it. Since we weren't sure, though, we've been keeping things close to home and sticking to a strict 'stay in a group' rule."

It made good sense. "Have you seen them since then?"

"No. But we haven't exactly been looking, either, you know?"

"Yeah," I would need a little time to think about how to handle that. "Anything else?"

"Just the usual, " Myra offered, baby Pavarti asleep at her breast. Chickens running loose through the dormitories, a kid smoking in the john, an exploding water pipe in the kitchen that had to be screwed back together. Life is good."

I agreed with my whole heart. Life was very good, indeed.

The next morning, I found Atsheena working quietly, as was her regular habit. It was a lovely, peaceful aspect of her personality that I appreciated. I approached her and joined her at her task, considering the right words to convey my thoughts. She worked on in comfortable silence. After spending so much time alone, she never seemed to have the need to fill space with words. I told her, "I'm concerned about what the guys said at dinner. If there are werewolves stalking the compound, we need to know about it. But, more than that. I don't just want to know about them. And I don't want them to think that we are trying to flex our muscles or something. I want... you know... like when you take cookies to the new people in the neighborhood because you want to be kind and welcoming but also because you're terribly curious about who they are and where they came from and if they intend to change anything. But I'm a bit of a freak show, even in this big crazy new world full of freaky things. I was hoping that maybe I could convince you to go and represent us? "

"Why me?"

"Well, because you are like them."

"I'm not a werewolf. I'm a shape shifter."

"Is it a significant difference?"

"Is it significant to you that you're not a demon but a human?"

I felt chagrined. "You're right. I'm sorry to have been insensitive."

She waved her hand dismissively and said nothing further, but went back to her task.

"So, will you talk to them anyway?" I hated being leader. I was certain that I had no gift at all for this kind of thing.

She sighed. "I don't know how they will take to me. Sometimes when gifts are similar yet... apart... well, it causes conflict, you know? There are jealousies and a competitive spirit to prove that one way is superior to another. For me to talk to them may not be your best bet."

I worked next to her for a few moments, thinking about what she'd said. "What if we sent a delegation? You, and Adam, and Fayette, and... hmmm... maybe Eddie? You could all go as a group. You're going there to convince them that these divisions don't need to exist, that we all need to live harmoniously. Perhaps if they see you all as a united front they will have a better understanding of how it could be for them.

She didn't answer right away.

"It could work," she said. "It would be critical that they don't see us as any kind of a threat. I'm not sure Eddie should go, and no vampires. The vampires are strong and there are old feuds that are hard to trace. You never know who knows whom from years ago, right?"

I guess when your life stretches over the millennia everybody gets to know everybody. "What about Judith?"

Atsheena considered that. "I think she'd be a good choice, but she needs to be very clear about what she's walking in to. If they come at us we would do everything we could to protect her but they will be fast and strong and we don't know much about them."

"I will ask her." I said, and then asked, "When do you think would be the right time to go?"

"I'm not sure it matters. We are walking into the unknown. Everything about the situation is uncertain. May as well go sooner rather than later."

I said what was on my heart. "Thank you, Atsheena, for sticking with us. Your strength and wisdom are assets of immeasurable value but your friendship...," I faltered a little. "You are very dear to me."

She looked at me with a tiny smile, her brown eyes filling with tears. "And yours to me. It has been a very long time since I had a family."

Judith was changing out dirty sheets for clean in the dormitory. She'd been with us for several weeks and, from the first day, seemed to be always busy with one chore or another. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure," she answered with a smile. "I wouldn't say no to some help with these sheets."

I hurried to help her stretch the fresh, cotton bedding across the mattress and tuck it in tightly.

"So what unpleasant task have you come to ask me to do?"

I laughed a little self-consciously. "Why do you think I've come to ask you to do something unpleasant?"

She chuckled. "Despite my lovely, youthful glow, I wasn't just born yesterday."

"You're too much, Judith."

"Nah. I'm just enough. Now, what do you need, fearless leader?" She asked.

Fearless. Ha! That's a joke, I thought but out loud I said, "Well, I was talking with Atsheena. We were discussing the matter of the werewolves in the woods."

"Mmm. A worrisome matter for you, I imagine."

"I don't find it worrisome so much, exactly. I just want to know why they are here. So close to us and just... lingering. We haven't really seen that kind of thing with the Legends so much."

We finished spreading the blankets neatly over that bed and moved to the next. Judith deftly stripped it with a few practiced and powerful tugs. "And what does this have to do with me?"

"We're going to send a delegation to them."

"Ah-ha. A nice, non-threatening delegation," she said.

As she spoke, I saw a blackness open up in the wall. Just a tiny crack at first, growing to no more than an inch. A darkness, like ink, slid slowly from it toward the floor. I knew it was not in this world but I could not say what world it was in. I could not give my attention to it. If it wasn't here it was no immediate threat. I planted my feet firmly on the floor and felt the solidity of the concrete, just as Michael had taught me to do, years ago. "Uhm... right. Non-threatening. And, sort of, multi-cultural, you know? Atsheena would go with you, and a few of the others. We are guessing that everything would be OK but if there's trouble..."

We finished, and moved together to the next cot. I allowed my eyes to flick over to the blackness, now sliding across the floor in a slow-spreading puddle. What was that? Where was it coming from?

"I suppose we all have to go sometime, eh?" She said. "And what am I doing here if I'm not willing to reach out a hand to a stranger in faith? I'll go. Tell Atsheena to come get me when she's ready. But first, help me with the rest of these, will you? I don't get a lot of time to visit with you. Tell me something about yourself."

I smiled. "About me? Like what?"

"Well, I'm sure I don't know. Let's see," She snapped a blanket out over the bed and thought for a moment. "Tell me, when you were a little girl, what were you willing to risk life and limb for?"

Ha! That was quite an icebreaker of a question. I had to think for a bit and suddenly remembered something I hadn't thought of in many years.

"Honey," I said with a laugh.

The vision, or whatever it had been shimmered and faded. My mind fogged over and I struggled to be fully present.

"Honey?" she said. "That's a new one. Tell me about it!"

"Well, I went to visit my grandparents one weekend and they had this fabulous yellow jar on the counter, shaped like a beehive. It even had this adorable little bee on the lid, like a handle. It had a matching wooden honey spoon. I was fascinated by this jar, the texture of it, and the cool rings of glazed clay stacked and smooth and glossy under my fingers. The color seemed like the epitome of yellow. Every other yellow thing in the whole world was only an imitation striving to be this yellow. It was just perfect in every way, you know? I loved it so much but it was always empty. Here was this glorious jar with one function--holding honey--denied that very thing. I don't think I'd ever tasted plain honey at that point in my life. I remember thinking that, if it was supposed to go in that wonderful jar it must be the most extraordinarily delicious food in the entire universe.

"So after the weekend I go home and, maybe a month later, I was playing in the yard and I saw it--some bees had made a nest in an old tree in the far corner of the yard."

"Oh, no! This isn't going to end well," she said.

"You can imagine. I knew what it felt like to be stung. I'd experienced it once or twice in my life by then, but it seemed a small risk to take. I was a fast runner. I figured if things got out of hand, I'd just run to the house and take shelter. But I didn't think they would be too upset because I wasn't going to be threatening, you know? I was just going to climb very slowly and reach in very carefully and take a single handful of honey out of the hive. I guess I must have pictured a big puddle of stuff in the center of the structure they'd built. So I started up and, when I was about three feet away, I swear no less than a thousand bees came busting out of that thing straight at me. I was so startled I screamed and let go of the branch I was holding on to and fell right on my arm, which I was certain I broke. But falling so fast got me out of their line of sight or whatever and gave me a chance to scramble up and get in the house before they stung me half to death.

"Turns out my arm wasn't broken, just badly bruised. My pride on the other hand," I laughed a little. "That was wounded. Especially when I told my mother what had happened and she'd screamed at me, 'What were you thinking? You could have been killed! Why didn't you just ask me to buy a jar of honey? You almost broke your arm over two dollars?'

"I was mortified. The idea of simply asking for some honey had never even occurred to me. I felt like such a moron!"

Judith laughed with me. "Well! I'm glad you were OK. And lesson learned, right? You have not because you ask not."

"Yeah. I suppose it was."

We moved on and continued working for a while in comfortable silence.

"You're carrying a lot on your shoulders," she said.

I grinned a little. "Some people seek greatness. Some people have greatness thrust upon them."

"Hmmm." She flicked a crisp sheet across the bed with an expert move. "And some people are crushed under the weight of what's asked of them."

I pressed my tongue against my teeth and waited for the impending tears to pass. I was so sick of crying about everything! "I'm OK. Usually." I gave her a little glance and a twisted smile. "Sometimes."

She chuckled. "Until it comes to asking little old ladies to go confront groups of angry werewolves?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

"I have my own will, Simone. You can't make me do anything. You didn't threaten me or coerce me in any way. You just asked me to do something. You can't do it all on your own."

Something about that statement bothered me but I couldn't quite put my finger on it at first. Then I realized what it was. "When Raziel first came to me, back in the days before any of this insanity happened, he told me that a person always has a choice. There is always free will."

"You don't believe that?"

I shrugged. "I suppose. I don't know. I had a choice to do what he was asking me or not. I could have refused, but what would it have gotten me in the end? The others would have still revealed themselves. Acedia would still be moving against the world. My family would still have faced unspeakable danger. What kind of choice is that? Is it freewill to allow a person to travel any way they like if they will end up at the same destination regardless?"

"Well, sure. Some people hate to fly and find trains to be a joy. There are those who love a long walk and those who are all about taking the fastest, shortest route. Pick your Proverb about the destination not being as important as the journey."

I sat down on the bed and rubbed my face with my hands. "I want you to say no. I don't want you to go out there. If you don't go then no part of my heart has to be responsible for what happens to you if something goes wrong."

She sat down next to me. "But isn't that the whole point? It isn't really about what you want, is it? It's about me and my choices. You made a choice to reveal this need to me. And I choose to rise to the occasion." She leaned in close and whispered, conspiratorially, "It makes me feel young and alive to have a mission that doesn't include lye soap or bread dough."

I laughed half-heartedly. "I love you, Judith. I appreciate you more than you will ever know. I learn from you every day."

She patted my knee without wincing even a little. I wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but somehow, it gave me a chill.

"I love you too, my friend. I will pray for your weary heart. I confess, I have a feeling that your burden will be heavier before it lightens," she said.