"In politics, nothing happens by accident. If it happens, you can bet it was planned that way." - Franklin Roosevelt

Everyone had questions for Atticus.

"I have family in California. Do you know what's happening there?"

"I heard that there's plague spreading on the East Coast. Is that true?"

"Is Texas really establishing itself as an independent nation?"

I listened as he answered them all. Things in California were much the same as here. People were seeking a "new normal." There were pockets of good and areas of total chaos. Detroit had burned to the ground. The Redwood trees were growing at an astonishing rate: probably due to the increase in worship to the gods of the forests who put their energy into the trees. The effects of that on the environment were yet to be seen.

In many places of dense population, disease broke out. Too many people, and no decent sanitation. Few hospitals were open. Those that were simply incubated disease.

There had been skirmishes nearly everywhere over land and resources.

"What of the rest of the world?" I asked. "America is in shambles. What is happening everywhere else?"

"More of the same. Many who were worshipped in ancient days have gone back to the people who worshipped them, and been welcomed with open arms. There is a return to the days of tribal division and theocracies led by powerful men purporting to be priests. Cities are dangerous places. There tends to be more peace and cooperation in rural areas but, at the same time, those areas are more vulnerable to attacks. Many of the legends are roaming the countryside satisfying their every appetite as they go. The Annamite Mountains are controlled by trolls now. No human would go there. But there are good things, too. There are thousands of communities like this one, where people are learning to work together for their greater good, instead of trying to fend for themselves. Some of the men and women who have special skills--doctors, nurses, builders--they are traveling for no reason except to find places where they can be helpful. One group of brothers has set up an extraordinary network of sharing and trading in South America. They even have a postal system in place, where their mailmen ride donkeys, so the mountain people can stay in communication with their loved ones."

I smiled, thinking of the three brothers. They'd seen their dream fulfilled. I'd have bet they had no idea how far their love had stretched.

I asked him about what I was hearing from the other side. I suspected that, like Raziel, he knew and understood far more than me about what was happening.

"I have heard that there is one who is setting himself up to rule. Not just another little tribe or even a nation like America. More like a king. A king of this world."

Atticus' boyish face showed every emotion he experienced, and when he looked afraid, icy fingers gripped my heart. Who was this beast that powerful angels feared him? He spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. "There is one moving among the Realms and the beings there speak of setting him up as a ruler of men."

"With an army of supernatural creatures," I said.

"His power will be immense," he agreed.

"Do you know when he will make his move?"

He shook his head. "No. But it won't be long now."

Atticus left us that night. A Wanderer is ever restless to move on, he explained as he offered his farewells. Later, as others slept and I longed to do the same, I considered all that we had been told. I thought about the one who would dare try to reign over the entire earth in times such as these.

Growing up in America in the days of my childhood, "freedom" was something you took for granted. After all, you were taught from birth that freedom was your God-given, inalienable right. Therefore, there was no other way than to be free. Of course, as I grew older I came to understand that some unfortunate souls in backward, poverty-stricken lands didn't enjoy all the same freedoms I did. But those folks were far away. Their problems didn't really affect my world. Another few years passed and I began to see that there were a lot of holes in the theories of "freedom." One man's freedom could lead to another man's poverty. What happened if my freedom infringed upon others rights? How free can we really be?

I grew up in "the land of the free", but there were all sorts of restrictions. I had freedom of speech, but I couldn't curse excessively in public or slander my neighbor. I had freedom of religion, but I couldn't pray in school. I had freedom to travel, but I couldn't drive at excessive speeds.

When the creatures of the Realms, the Legends and Myths, chose to tear down the veils, we lost many freedoms. Under martial law, people were no longer allowed to leave their homes at night. Due to concerns over spreading panic, internet use had been monitored and restricted. The powers that be had put every measure in place that they could think of to maintain order in the face of extraordinary change but it hadn't been enough. Things fell apart. The government ceased to exist. Those of us left behind were, for the first time in our lives, totally free.

And chaos reigned.

We'd heard stories of numerous men and women, all armed to the teeth, rising up, claiming leadership over various tracts of land. The strong and persuasive garnered support and followers. Most of them seemed the equivalent of the madmen who used to yell about the end of the world on busy city street corners. Now that I considered it, the guys on the street corners may have been saner than we all thought.

Aside from the humans who were busy proclaiming themselves kings and queens, there had been others, setting themselves up as gods. Why follow a mere mortal when there is someone else telling you stories of having fought alongside Charlemagne? Why risk the inevitability of the death of a president when you have a ruler who could guide the people for the next millennium? Even without the voices, it wouldn't have been a surprise to hear Atticus' news of the demon ruler, building the most powerful kingdom on earth.

The warm days of spring brought with them a number of travelers. Most folks were walking, though a few were on motorcycles. Sometimes they were just wandering, looking for a way to pass the days. Many were trying to get to family members from whom they'd become separated during the confusion of the preceding months. The stories were sometimes little more than vague rumor and other times first-hand accounts. Over time, we gained a clear picture of the new ruler. He had a plan. His forces had seized control of Kansas City and set up his headquarters in the old Kansas City Power and Light Company building. Kansas City made perfect sense. It was the exact center of the former United States. He had an army of thousands that was growing every day and his army had the trains running on time. Kansas City was the only place in North America with electricity twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. There were road crews, and emergency teams, and postal delivery. Crime, of the sort perpetrated by humans as well as by others, was practically nonexistent there. Everyone had a job, a way to contribute. Those who came seeking refuge were instantly assimilated. They even had the public schools open, complete with hot lunches and bus service.

Of course, all of those things came with a price. Nothing is free in this crazy world. The price? Child and virgin sacrifice. After all, the king was a demon. He called himself Tesscati, and fed upon the blood of the innocent. I needed to face him.

The morning we'd chosen for our departure dawned rainy and warm. Donovan sat on the kitchen counter and watched as I rifled through the cabinets and placed my choices on the counter. I'd take the bread and some cheese, maybe a few hard-boiled eggs. I glanced up at my boy. "What else, do you think?"

"I don't want you to go," he said.

It was so unlike him that it took me back a bit.

"I'll be fine."

I knew I was still just a mortal woman, but I also knew I was taking this trip, not as Simone, but as The Prophet. There was nothing the demon could do to me while I was in his capital city.

"You should be here with us. We need you here."

I set down the can I was holding and walked over to stand in front of him. With him sitting on the counter like this, we were almost eye to eye. The boyishness seemed to be gone from his face. He was leaving childhood behind too quickly. The thought made me want to smile and cry, all at once. I had made the mistake before, of underestimating my boy's ability to "hear.". I'd learned from him that the chatter wasn't always random. Some creatures were able to reveal or hide themselves as they chose.

"Spill the beans, kiddo. What's up?"

He shrugged.

"I need you to talk to me, Donny. You know I'll believe you. I promised you that and I've stuck to it, right?"

"It's not that." He paused to find just the right words. In that moment he was so much like his father that it was comical. I waited for him to be ready to continue. "I don't know, Mom. Something just feels wrong. I can't say what it is. I haven't heard anything. It's just... a feeling. I don't want you to go."

"I'll tell you a secret, buddy." I leaned in close. "I don't really want to go. Not even a little. But I think I have to."

"Raziel says there's always a choice."

Leave it to this kid! He always knew how to challenge me. "That's true. Or... at least I think it is. Sometimes it doesn't feel that way but I think we really do have the option to say no. But where would that get us? I didn't ask for any of this, just like you didn't ask to be able to hear. But it's part of who I am and it would be wrong of me to deny that. I could choose to follow a different path but it wouldn't be my path, you know? No one would stop me but it would never really feel right."

He looked directly into my eyes. "I'm scared, Mom. Something bad is coming."

"I know, Donny. I'm scared, too." I wanted to hug him, but I could sense the discomfort I was causing, just by standing so close. What was this part of my son that recoiled from the light? What did it mean for his future? What could I ever do to help him?

"Mom?" he asked, softly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Denisa could go with you?"

"Denisa?" It was an unusual request. The vampires stayed with us and did their fair share of the work, but neither spent much time near me. "Why do you want me to take her?"

He chewed his lip. "She looks at me weird," he said.

"Has she ever done anything?"

Giggling.

His bullies were giggling.

I could hear them and it was disconcerting to say the least. What could they find so funny?

Beware.

He'll strike you at your weakest.

We stand with you.

The display of solidarity from the other side was just as unsettling. Exactly what were they warning me of?

Donovan rubbed his forehead.

"You OK?" I asked.

He nodded.

"I don't think Denisa will come. I'm not sure she could stand to be with me so long.

He slumped, defeated. I searched for a way to sooth him. "I'll ask Atsheena to keep an eye on her, OK?"

"Sure," he said, sounding far from happy.

"I love you, Donovan. So much."

"Love you too, Mom."

He slid off the counter and left me to finish preparing.

My husband gave me a hard time, too.

"I don't understand why none of the men can go with you," Michael said for at least the third time. "You still haven't really given me a proper answer."

I hadn't given him a proper answer because I didn't really understand it myself. It was one of those things I just knew because I knew it. And he knew that. And I knew that he hated it. And he knew that I knew that he hated it.

I rolled my eyes at my own ridiculous inner dialogue, and lifted another gas tank into the back of the pickup. "You know, sometimes you're a bit male-centric for a sensitive, artistic type," I teased.

"Simone," he laid a hand on my arm and then took it away again too quickly. He was not smiling at my attempted.

"Look, I don't have an answer you'll accept. I know it feels weird to you, but you should know by now that there is no one who can hurt me right now. Maybe someday, but not right now. And I think even the toughest bad guy would have his hands full with Freyja. And Susan...." I trailed off. Susan was the weak link. She was totally vulnerable. She knew it, I knew it, Michael knew it. "Susan is supposed to be there."

He said nothing, but hefted the last full tank up, slammed the tailgate shut and walked me around the front. He had already pulled the latch for the hood. "If you need to get in here, there's a trick to it. Put your hand in like this," he said, demonstrating, "and feel for that little lever. Push it to the right."

I did as he said and I listened dutifully as he showed me how to check the oil level, and add to it if need be, how to fill the windshield fluid, and how to add water to the radiator. I didn't point out that if anything as catastrophic as a leaky radiator was to befall us, it would be easier to leave the truck at any gas station and lift a new one. Abandoned vehicles sat on every corner. If he needed to say all this in order to feel better, then so be it.

"At least you can stay on the highways pretty much the whole way."

"Assuming they are clear and not washed out," I said.

He slammed the hood shut and stood there for a long time. "I hate this." He muttered. They were fiercely strong words, coming from this man. I longed to reach out and touch him. I ached for it. I pined to be held in his arms with his scruffy chin pressed against the top of my head.

"Me too," I said.

He sighed deeply. "Well, you better go get Thelma and Louise, then."

"Well, geez! I certainly hope things end up better for us than they did for them!"

"Not funny, Fitzgerald."

"You brought it up!"

He gave me the skunk eye but I heard him snickering under his breath when he walked away.

I popped my head inside to let the other two women know that we were ready and they emerged from opposite ends of the building. Susan had a cooler and a sack full of food and drinks and Freyja was wearing her feather cloak and had a sword strapped around her hips. Dark black Ray-bans covered her eyes.

"Nice look. Subtle."

She beamed. "Sometimes all you need is the right accessories."

I hated that I was going on this trip. I hated that I was leaving my family. I hated most of all that I was going to have to come face-to-face with the very representation of evil on earth. In fact, I hated it all so much that I couldn't allow myself to look directly at that thought or I was sure all of my resolve would crumble to dust. I'd unload the truck and invite my little community to engage in an all-night euchre tournament.

For all that, I found myself actually looking forward to spending a few days in the car with these two women.

We went outside and they climbed in, Susan driving and Freyja in the middle.

Ike and Donovan were standing with Michael. I joined them. "I love you guys." Tears escaped from my eyes. My God, was there no end to the crying? How was it possible I hadn't dehydrated in the past few months? "I'll be back before you notice I'm gone."

"Be careful, Mom," Donovan said.

I searched his eyes. "Got any further intel for me, buddy?"

He shook his head. "No. I just want you to be careful."

"You too," I said.

I longed to kiss them. Was that so much to ask for, considering all I was doing? The ability to kiss my family? Best not to travel any further on that particular train of thought. "I promise I will be," I said.

Ike handed me his favorite book, the one where Sammy the Seal gets to go to school for a day. "In case you get bored in the car."

I took it, and pressed it against my heart. "Thanks little man. I'll read it out loud so the other ladies can enjoy it too."

"That's a good idea!" he said.

"Be right back," I told Michael.

"You better be," he answered.

I walked to the waiting truck, lifted myself up into the passenger's seat, and we began our trek to meet the new king.

We'd heard that the interstates were blocked by accident or design, so we stuck to the old US highway system, traveling through towns and cities and rural America... or whatever it was called now. We could go for a hundred miles without seeing a single sign of life, then we'd come to a town lively with activity. Often we'd stop in those places to trade news and resources. Everyone had heard of the new king. One place would be eager for him to come to their outpost and restore "civilization." The next would be ready to go to war against him.

Somehow, my brief time on the TV news had made me famous. They all knew the Prophetess. Even with my face covered and minus the impressive angel (though, there was Freyja—a memorable creature to be sure!) I was identified almost immediately. I sensed the recognition had something to do with the entourage of others that traveled alongside me in the spirit realm. Humans couldn't see them but, with the veil so thin now as to be all but non-existent, there was a sense that they were there. The Power never left me. The words that came were always the same: Praise the Creator without end, not the created. Love the created. Know that it is special. Care for your neighbor. Respect your own life, as it is given to you as a gift.

It was not a new message, but few seemed to truly understand.

Some places were hostile. There were villages ruled by vampires and lorded over by demons. We came to one town where apathy reigned so completely that not one soul even acknowledged our presence. I shivered. People had joked about the "zombie apocalypse." This town was experiencing it.

The changes as we neared Kansas City were subtle at first. There were fewer vacant homes, fewer abandoned vehicles. Traffic increased and there began to be a wider variety of vehicles. Then we crested a hill and I saw a red traffic light. The electricity was on. We were in the capital city of the demon king.

We wound our way through the surface streets to the forest of tall buildings that made up the downtown area. If you didn't look too closely you'd never know that anything was different in this place than it had been two years earlier. But a closer look showed fanged creatures with animal claws in military uniforms, patrolling the streets. People appeared healthy, and moved with purpose, but there was a strange hush. There was little conversation, and even less laughter. Though there were plenty of young men and women, I didn't see a single child anywhere.

We parallel parked on the city street and we all got out of the truck and stretched. The impressive structure of the Kansas City Power and Light Company building dominated the other side of the road. The front door opened, and I knew that the being coming out of the building was coming for me. My arrival here was no surprise.

"Get in the truck," I said, acting on instinct alone. "You need to go, right now."

Susan and Freyja didn't hesitate. They understood that it was not me but the Power within me that spoke now.

I watched the one coming across the street now. He was tall, as so many creatures of the realms are. He was not beautiful in the ethereally beautiful way that Raziel and Freyja are, but he was fiercely attractive. I remembered the goddess Michael had seen in the woods. Even at this distance, even with The Power upon me, something in the core of me responded to the sheer masculinity of his being. At that thought, his eyes snapped to me. A cocky smile danced at the corner of his mouth. His navy blue suit was immaculately cleaned and perfectly tailored to his lean form. His shoes were polished to a high sheen. He walked with bold strides, straight toward me. He held out his arms as though he would embrace me but stopped several feet away. I knew he was physically unable to come any closer.

"Welcome to our fair city!" he said.

"And you are?" I asked.

"Forgive me." He bowed. "I'm Bacchus. The king is a friend of mine. He asked me to accompany you into his office."

"Ha!" I exploded, rather too loudly. "You're Bacchus? Champion of debauchery and chaos? I think you might be living in the wrong city." I motioned to the sterile order that existed all around us.

"Or perhaps you've not seen the best parts yet." He leaned a little closer and I smelled the musky scent of his aftershave. "Would you like me to show you the best parts, Prophetess?"

"I'd like you to show me the way to your puppet master," I said with a boldness that was not my own.

He chuckled, a deep, masculine sound. "Let me know if you change your mind," he offered. "This way, then." He motioned for me to follow him to the building he'd come from.

I couldn't help but compare this place in the city to our little camp on the edge of a tiny rural village. Our place was small and humble. There were goats living in the same room where we ate. But it was warm and full of life, and love, and hope.

This building was on the corner of two streets that were quite busy. It was the tallest of any of the nearby towers by a good five or six stories, and made of white marble that glistened in the sunlight and dazzled the eye. A large red canopy covered the front walk and two truly terrifying creatures stood on sentry duty in front of the massive double doors of the main entrance. Were they orcs? They certainly looked like something out of a Tolkien novel.

Bacchus led me across the marble foyer, our heels clicking against the floor and creating echoes that mingled with those of a dozen or so other people and creatures moving about the space to create a constant dissonant roar. He pressed the button at a bank of elevators and told me, "He prefers to meet with people in his private quarters."

"On the top level, of course," I said.

"Of course," he agreed.

Inside the elevator Muzak played softly in the background; fingernails scratching the inside of my brain.

I had to stand in the very center of the small space. Every time I got too close to the side little arcs of electricity buzzed and popped between the brass railings and my fingertips. I figured I was safe. It didn't seem likely that God would bring me this far just to let me die in a freak elevator accident caused by my inability to hold myself together when I was all charged up like this, but it seemed prudent to be as cautious as possible nonetheless.

The doors opened and Bacchus motioned me forward.

"What?" I asked him. "You're not coming with me? You're not allowed inside?" The idea that the god rule-breaking was submitting so completely to the authority of another amused me.

"Not this time, Prophet. I'll be nearby though, if you miss me."

I wondered if he was going to try to slap me on the backside as I exited the elevator. I knew he wouldn't be able to, but I was curious to see what would happen if he attempted it. He kept his hands to himself, though, and the doors slid shut, blocking him from my view.

I followed the path of marble tiles with bright golden grout between them through a blue ocean of thick carpet to a lovely desk. It looked, simultaneously, like a five hundred year old antique and a flawless, brand new piece. The woman seated there was lovely. She was all shiny reddish-blonde curls and perky breasts, subtly displayed under a silk blouse that, if life were still normal, would probably have cost as much as I spent on my wardrobe in any given year. She showed off her perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth in a perfectly polite smile. I assumed she was not one hundred percent human. She was all just a tiny bit too... perfect.

"His Highness is expecting you," she said. Two more guards, a matched set to the two downstairs, opened the large doors at the end of the marble path.

I walked forward with my head held high, knowing in my heart that if I were my usual self I'd be far too terrified to take a single step. I passed the fanged horrors and felt, more than heard, the doors shut with a solid thump behind me.

I'm not sure what I had been expecting but, somehow, this wasn't it. He was the most singularly average man I'd ever seen. He was average height and average weight with brown hair that was neither especially light nor very dark, neither lushly thick, nor noticeably thinning. He had a neatly trimmed beard and he wore a suit that was of good quality but not at all flashy or overstated. The jacket was draped over the back of his chair and he had his shirt sleeves rolled up a bit in a way that seemed incredibly normal. No one (except maybe the extremely elderly) would look at him and call him a young man, but he wasn't old enough yet to have any gray in his hair. There were a few fine lines around his eyes but nothing you would call wrinkles. He didn't seem powerful or strong or even scary at all. He seemed totally unremarkable, and absolutely forgettable. I was certain I'd seen him before, but he was impossible to place.

"Simone Fitzgerald!" He said my name like we'd been best friends for our whole lives. "Thank you for coming to see me. I've wanted to talk to you and suddenly, here you are. Please, have a seat," he offered one of the upholstered chairs in front of his desk.

"I'd prefer to stand," I said.

Sitting down seemed far too much like relaxing and, no matter what happened here, I didn't want to relax, even for a moment. I felt in the very core of my being that to do so would be like drinking ambrosia. I'd be trapped in his world and not even know I was ensnared.

"As you wish. I'm only concerned with your comfort."

"Really?" I asked. "That is your only concern?"

"Well...," he smiled broadly and leaned back against the edge of his desk, crossing his ankles in front of him. "Perhaps not the only one. But I do wish you to be comfortable here. "

"You said you wanted to speak with me. Why is that? What did you so badly want to say?" I asked him. "I'm no one of consequence to you."

He cocked his head appearing the very picture of relaxation. "Oh, I think we both know better than that. You have the ear of many, many people, Mrs. Fitzgerald. And more than a few who are not people as well."

"Many have called me a fool and dismissed me as an over-zealous lunatic," I said.

"Those who have no eyes to see in a time such as this are the fools."

I waited for him to go on.

"You are a woman who knows things, Mrs. Fitzgerald, so certainly you've surmised that I've not just set up a little city-state here. I am looking forward to seeing our enterprise grow."

"Funny that the demon of Apathy would choose a creature of ambition and passion to be his puppet. Funnier still that such a creature would allow himself to be the pawn of another."

For a fraction of a moment a look of pure fury flashed across his face but it was gone so quickly there was no way to be certain it was there. "Those who work with me are neither controlling nor controlled. We are all acting of our own choices and free will."

I said, "That's the way of all creation. Yet the choices we make have a way of enslaving us, do they not?"

He narrowed his eyes. "True enough. Do you feel like that, Simone? (No more "Mrs. Fitzgerald" I noticed.) Have you been trapped... enslaved, as you so aptly put it... by your own choice to throw in your lot with the being Raziel?"

"Yes," I said. I could think of no reason to lie. He would know if I was, anyway. "I feel like it has taken over my entire life and led me in a direction I never intended. But that doesn't mean I regret my choice. I believe that Raziel and I--and any who call themselves our friend in their true heart--are on the side of Light and Love and Wisdom. There's nowhere else I'd rather be. If our choices enslave us, I would rather be a servant of the Light than wandering, trapped, in the darkness."

"Is there no middle ground?" He spread his hands in an open, beseeching gesture.

"No. I don't believe there is. Have you ever lit a single small match in a pitch black room? The tiniest bit of light obliterates the darkness. They cannot exist simultaneously."

He was starting to look a little less happy to see me. "I am beginning to get the sense that you don't want to hear what I have to say."

"I am beginning to wonder if you are going to get around to saying anything. Exactly what do you want?"

"I want you to work with me, of course."

"With you or for you?" I asked.

He shrugged. He was very charming, a picture of modesty. "Every organization requires leadership."

"Mmm." I made the most non-committal grunt I could muster.

"Simone, I know that there are many people who have doubted you, your abilities, your sincerity, your motives. Let me assure you that my associates and I hold you in the highest regard. We believe in your abilities. We know you can hear, far and wide. We know you have seen many things, beyond the scope of what most humans would even be capable of comprehending.

"We're building something very special here. The world is changing faster than it ever has in the history of the human race and we're going to be the ones to shape it. There will be those who embrace the change, thrive upon it, and build a strong foundation for a good life in the new way."

"And what of those who do not embrace your way of doing things?" I asked.

"Sadly, those who resist change are often destroyed by it." He appeared genuinely upset by the thought. "Come work with us, Simone. Be our spokesperson. Help us understand one another and work more smoothly toward a common end.

"I can guarantee you safety, and comfort, and wealth. This new world is fraught with dangers your parents couldn't have conceived of. There are material considerations. Will there be enough food and water to go around? The infrastructure has already fallen apart. There are health issues. What if someone gets sick or hurt? Do you realize that here, in this town, we currently have, not one, but two, fully operational hospitals? People of science flock to us, so we have no fear of ever being without great medical care, reliable electricity, working vehicles and so forth. We sure could use a few musicians and a great artist or two, though. Balance out all those left-brained nerds!" He laughed at his own wit and then offered one of the kindest, gentlest, most sincere looks imaginable. "Aside from all that... let's admit it. Some of these creatures who have revealed themselves are truly frightening. They view you and your loved ones as food, Simone. You are cattle to them. And now that they are known of, they are becoming truly gluttonous in their tastes. They are insatiable monsters with a terrible bloodlust, unequaled in even the most horrible men. It would be tragic if one of your precious little boys were ever to meet up with one of them when you weren't around..."

Icy fingers of fear ripped through the shield bravado the Power lent me and teased my spine. This was not a vague threat against me. This was not a dream world that I could convince myself existed only inside my own head. This was a genuine promise of a direct attack against my children by a creature who stood before me in the flesh. I said nothing at all, simply because my voice had left me.

"Look around you, Simone. We're safe here, and extremely comfortable. We lack nothing. Isn't that what every mother desires for her children? Here they'll have every good thing life has to offer. Can you say the same, living in your little... commune?

"I know you will want to think about all of this and discuss it with your husband. I'll get a driver for you to take you back to your friends. As a sign of my goodwill I'll send a quantity of food, water, medicine, and tools with you. Then, in a while, we can talk again."

My heart raced so fast that the room spun and little starbursts of light popped in front of my eyes. All I wanted in the whole world was to hold my little boys in my arms again and never let them go. How could I have been so stupid? I asked myself. How could it never occur to me that my children are in terrible danger?

Tesscati touched me. He collected my hot, trembling, calloused hands and held them in his soft, cool, steady grip. There was no barrier hindering him. Fear had left no room for power. I was exposed, and vulnerable. "Everything is going to be OK, Simone."

It was as though I'd been encased in a cage of foggy glass that was slowly closing in on me and, at his touch, it shattered into a million useless shards. My mind was clear. My path was laid out, straight in front of me. Peace and strength poured into me. He let go of me.

"I appreciate your offer. You're right. I do wish for my family to be safe and well cared for. But there must be more to life than comfort and security. My children will die. It is the way of all men. It's the longing of my heart that they live a long, healthy, happy life on this earth and pass through the veil peacefully. But I would rather their years be short and full of Light than long and lost to a grayness of spirit.

"You need not bother send anything with me. We have everything we need. I won't work for you. I won't reject the One who gave me the ability to make such choices. I will willingly spend my life, and my afterlife as well, as a slave of the Light."

Every appearance of kindness left him. "You're a fool and you will die. Your children will be food for the beasts and your husband will mourn over your broken body like the weak-spirited coward he is."

I spread my arms wide, daring him to come at me. I was invincible once more, energized and emboldened. "The Power of God is within me, and through His Mercy and Grace I have been granted a gift. As every good gift comes from Him I will use it only in service of Him. I suggest you do the same."

He reached up to slap me and, though I didn't move at all, he was thrown from me. With bone-cracking force he hit the wall and slid to the floor.

Leave him.

He cannot defeat the Light.

Join with the Keeper.

Listen to the Prophet.

He's powerless against her.

I could hear his supporters leaving him. I could feel the void that remained in the space around him. My breath came in short, quick gasps. My body burned with pent-up energy. I fought to hold it back, knowing in my heart that the time for the true battle had not yet come.

He was shaking with rage as he lifted himself to his feet, and straightened his disheveled clothing. He stepped over to the desk and pressed a button on his phone. "Have Bacchus come in and escort Mrs. Fitzgerald to the curb. He won't need to drive her anywhere. Her God is going to miraculously deliver her safely to her destination on a lightning bolt." He sat down, just as the door opened and the handsome, grinning Bacchus walked in. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Prophet."

"Likewise," I replied.

I left the room and the building under the supervision of the guards and found myself standing on the curb, alone in a city full of hostile beings. One of the horrible, drooling guards snickered, behind me.

"Is it fun?" I asked him. "Being at the bottom of the totem pole that's headed up by a demon destined for failure?"

"I've cast my lot with the biggest and strongest," he growled. "You were a fool to throw away your chance."

"If you believe that then, you don't know who all the players in this game are."

"Is that what this is? A game? Is that what your God created? Maybe, if you are right, it's you who is the pawn."

Oddly enough I don't think he was trying to mock me. I think he honestly wanted to know.

"I don't know," I said. "I think that God created us--all of us--for His pleasure. So, yes, perhaps it is a game, in that way. But if we are playthings, that does not make us less treasured. I know beyond all shadow of a doubt that That Which Is is Love, and Light, and Wisdom in its most true form. Whatever purpose He has laid out for me, even if it is to be His entertainment, also includes my best interest. The same is true for you and for every single being."

He seemed to consider my answer for a long time. Finally he said, "It is best you go, while you still have the option of leaving."

I intended to walk as far as I needed until I was able to figure out a way to reach Freyja and Susan again but, at that moment, a sleek black and red motorcycle came tearing around the corner, engine screaming in the controlled busy-ness of the well-ordered city. It came to an ear-splitting, screeching halt directly in front of us. The rider planted her feet on either side of the bike and stood upright, flipping the visor of her helmet up as she did so. Smiling ice-blue eyes greeted me. "Need a ride?" Freyja asked.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the bright golden lightning bolts painted on either side of the bike in a dazzling, glittering display. I swung my leg over the bike and waved goodbye to the orcs. You'll never be able to tell me God doesn't have a sense of humor.

We raced out of the downtown area and through the streets of the city. I had the impression that the goddess was speeding more for the sheer joy than any real sense of urgency.

In time, we came upon a crowd. Humans and others, young and old were gathered together. The group stood in a haphazard circle. In the center three young men were tied to a flag pole. I tapped Freyja on the back and she nodded in understanding and maneuvered the bike closer in that direction. I climbed off, clumsily. She dismounted like a ninja.

"What's going on here?" I inquired of one of the women on the edge of the crowd.

"Looters," she said. "Sucks to be them."

"Indeed," I agreed.

I pushed my way through the crowd, not giving a thought to what I was going to say. The next thing I knew I found myself climbing onto the raised circle where the flagpole was planted. I felt compelled to intervene here, but with each passing moment, the urgency to return to my family increased. The demon had threatened them. I needed to see that they were safe.

"Get out of the way, freak!" someone cried and I felt something very hard strike my left shoulder.

I raised my hands and felt the Light surround me and encompass the young men. "Tell me what these men have done that was so bad," I said.

"They're looters!"

"Thieves!"

"They threaten the public peace!"

"Get out of the way!"

Feed us!

Kill them!

Voices from this side of the veil and the other shouted for the blood of the men.

"Stop this!" I demanded. My voice rang out clear and loud. "Who among you has not taken what you needed during these desperate times? Who has given you authority to do this to these men?"

"It is our right to punish them. The king says so!"

One man rushed at me, but as he passed Freyja, she reached up and grabbed him by the back of the neck. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious, and she grinned, pleased with herself.

"You allow the puppet-king to set moral standards for you? The king who guarantees your employment and then demands the blood of your children? This is who you set above you? Who made him king? Who endorses his reign? He only has power over you because you allow him to. Why do you answer to him?" I asked the crowd.

"He has brought order!" someone shouted.

"Order? Is that what you call this? The power is on and for that you are willing to allow him to go on eating your offspring? Literally eating them?"

Several in the crowd looked down and a few in the back began to drift away. "Walk away from this madness! You do not need him and his tin-god authority to provide stability in your lives. Take responsibility for yourselves! Go beyond that. Take responsibility for each other. If each of you had shared a single tiny bit of the food you have stockpiled these men would not have been driven to steal from anyone. And when desperate men do desperate things the shedding of their blood accomplishes nothing more than feeding the evil of those who would seek to destroy each and every member of the human race.

"Enough of this! It's time to lay down your weapons and stand for something new. Declare this day the dawn of a new age! Make today the day that humans turn to love as their first instinct and profess an end to pointless bloodshed."

A woman pushed through the crowd and stood on the pavement in front of the raised circle. "Are you the prophet who was on TV?"

"I am. I speak on behalf of the forces of Love and Wisdom, and true Justice. I urge you to cling to the Light before the Darkness overwhelms you."

"You'll be killed for the words you speak," the woman said, her chin trembling.

"Then I'll die in the name of Truth. We'll all travel away from this realm someday. I have no fear of death," I said.

Her tears spilled over and she spoke quietly. I doubt any other than myself even heard her as she said, "I do. I am scared to die. And I am scared to live. I am so scared, all the time."

"And so you will subject yourself to the one who frightens you the most?" The circle of light moved further out and encompassed this woman. I heard her gasp and then watched as she relaxed into it as one would relax in the arms of a trusted lover. "Faith is the father of courage. Walk away from the choices that have brought us to this point. Change the world. Start right now by showing mercy to these men."

I stood, arms out, for what seemed to be a very long time, though Freyja told me later that it was only a few minutes. Then everyone was gone. I was certain they'd left this area, but also that they would leave the city. It seemed many of Tesscati's citizens were less than fully committed to his cause.

I lowered my arms and stood on trembling legs. "Please untie these men," I told Freyja. She did it, but the men just stood there as though they were uncertain what to do with their freedom. Finally one of them approached me.

"Thank you," he said.

"I'm just a tool of the Creator. We're all made precious in the Image of That Which Is. If you are truly thankful, leave this place and spend the rest of your life paying forward the gifts that have been given to you, most especially the gifts of forgiveness and mercy."

"Are you human?" He asked.

"Yes. I'm no one special. Just a mom who was asked to help her neighbors in a time of need."

He backed away, as though afraid I would chase him. The other two men joined him and they walked away.

Freyja came and put a hand on my arm. "Time to go home," she said. Her soothing peace flowed through me. I was more than ready to see my family.

As we rode, I watched the passing scenery and listened to the constant buzz of voices in my head. They didn't fade anymore. I couldn't switch it off. I couldn't focus on one thing or another. I took deep breaths, trying to calm the pounding thrum in my soul. My body trembled under the assault of the Power. For a time I'd had control of myself. Now I wasn't sure I had control of anything at all. My confidence in my own ability to keep this up as long as necessary waivered, and the Power lessened more with each doubtful thought.

We left the orderliness of the city and passed through the bizarre suburbia that now existed at its edges. What had once been eight lanes of bumper-to-bumper traffic crawling along with mind-numbing slowness was now a wide, straight, flat runway and Freyja laid the throttle out on the bike and let it run.

I unashamedly pressed my face into her back and closed my eyes to block out the terror. It was possible, I thought, that this was nearly as frightening as anything else I'd faced that day. But, in time, terror yielded to a sense of freedom and escape. There was nothing here but clean air and wide-open space. With no small amount of guilt I considered the idea that the earth had been in dire need of a cleansing for a hundred years or more and maybe the death and destruction of the past several months wasn't all bad.

Just about the time my backside began to lose the last bit of feeling, we pulled into the parking lot of a grungy nineteen fifties themed diner. It looked like something built on the cheap twenty or thirty years later than that, but they were going for a certain style and they'd achieved a greasy-spoon charm I'm sure some people loved. To my surprise, they seemed open for business. A generator rattled and groaned, and a half-dozen cars were lined up in front of the place.

Freyja pulled the bike into a spot next to the familiar rusty old truck and we climbed off the bike and headed inside to meet Susan. I wanted to get on the road, but they both insisted on staying and eating.

"Simone," Freyja said as though speaking to a stubborn child. "You've been pushed to your limit and quite beyond. Eat. Fill your belly and then we will head home. Your task here is done for now. You need to return to your family in some sort of decent shape. Michael needs you to come home from this trip looking at least as good as you did when you left. Do you understand what I am saying?"

I did understand.

We ate as much as our bellies would hold and then, by unspoken consensus, we rushed home as quickly as possible. The idea of being surrounded by those who knew and loved and accepted us had become more welcome than ever before. I said nothing of my concerns for their safety.

As we passed through the state formerly known as Illinois, Susan was at the wheel of the truck. She proved to be a remarkable driver with extraordinary stamina and lightning-quick reflexes. I was happy that she was with us. Freyja and I recounted all we had seen and heard in the realm of the demon king.

"She pushed the Light out from herself like some kind of force field," Freyja told her. "I didn't even know that was possible."

"I didn't know either," I said. "I think, maybe, I can do certain things in the moment when they are needed but not all the time. You know... like Moses getting water out of the rock. I don't think he could do that whenever he wanted. Just that once because it was what was needed in that moment."

The woman agreed that it made sense.

As so often happens when people are on a long road trip, conversation drifted, touching on every topic imaginable. At one point Susan voiced a concern, "Things are different now, right? And sometimes I worry..." She cast a sideways glance in my direction.

"What is it? I asked.

"Well, you know, Eddie and I have been... you know... spending a lot of time together."

"Yeah." I had noticed.

"But it's not like we're married and if people are offended... well... I just don't know. It's not like it used to be. Not like I'm going to go on a date and get engaged and plan a big wedding and everything. But I don't want to get kicked out of the group, either."

I wasn't sure I was fully grasping what she was saying. "Are you worried that you're going to get in trouble for fornication?"

She blushed fiercely. Was there no end to the awkward moments this "prophet" gig would bring into my life?

"Does it bother you?" She asked.

Frankly, I hadn't given it much thought, but now I was wondering about them and about other couples that had matched up in the compound. Everyone slept in a dorm. Where were they having sex? And when? I didn't want to think about it. Eesh. I tried very hard to keep my face neutral.

"If you're asking me if it's against the rules or something, I'm not about to go there. You're all consenting adults and your choices are between you and your conscience. I always felt like sex was something special between married couples. I think that's how God intended it, how it is meant to be but... I'm certainly not going to throw anyone out of the group or anything I just...," I put my hands up. "Not my business."

Freyja laughed at me. It wasn't her little tinkling giggle but a giant, head-thrown-back guffaw.

"What?" I asked, truly baffled about what I'd said that could be so amusing.

"I never knew you were so shy about sex."

"I'm not shy," I insisted. "I just... it's private, you know. Do you go around telling everybody and their brother about your sex life?"

She arched one of her perfect eyebrows at me. "Are you kidding?"

"No. I don't understand why you think this is so funny." I was reliving middle school all over again.

"People have been talking about my sex life for a thousand years. Longer! There are whole legends about it."

Susan broke into laughter as well. "You've literally had legendary sex?"

Freyja beamed, shamelessly. "Yup. Some say that I traded the peace of the human race for a hot lay, but that's just not true. I would never do such a thing." She paused. "I did make it with four dwarves for a necklace once though."

I had been taking a sip of coffee at that moment and coughed so hard I felt it come out of my nose. "Good Lord!"

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Well it was a really great necklace."

We all dissolved into gasping, side-splitting laughter.

When I pulled myself together enough to rasp out some words, I wiped my eyes and said, "Well, then. There it is, Susan. No judgment from this group." And we all burst out laughing again.

It was midday when we arrived home, exhausted from having driven straight through the day and night. Someone must have seen us coming because Michael and the boys were outside bouncing on their toes when we pulled up. Eddie was standing near them. Susan blushed to the very roots of her hair.