“So where are Rachel and Alex?" Josh said.

“In bed," she replied absently.

"Ah." There was a short silence. "I don't suppose I have to ask whether they are in different beds, do I?"

“Indeed not," Althea replied, smiling at him. She wondered how long it would be before she managed to get him alone. Or perhaps not alone, she added, thinking of Rachel. Mmmmm. She slanted a look at Yasna, and was happy to see there was no look of moral outrage on her face. The last thing they all needed was to spend hours or days convincing her that incest was not inherently sinful. Instead, she looked slightly introspective, as if she were trying to come to terms with a way of thinking that was unfamiliar, but not completely unfathomable.

Josh caught her glance. "I told her about Sarah and myself earlier, when we were picking up her things."

“Good,” Althea said. She logged into her bank account and started paying her bills.

“It's strange. Even when something monumental occurs, everyday Life has a way of sneaking up on you.”

Yasna nodded.

“Truly. I bet if you look back in history, you will find extraordinary people with very ordinary fears. I wonder if the founding fathers had worries about how they would pay their mortgages.”

"Oh, they totally did," Althea murmured. "John Adams, for example. He was always concerned about how to keep Braintree solvent."

“Were you there?" Yasna's voice was incredulous.

“No, of course not. I was far too fond of my own comfort to move to a new continent peopled by savages."

“That's not an appropriate way to speak of the Native Americans,” Yasna said primly.

“I wasn't. I was talking about the religious maniacs who settled in

Massachusetts," Althea replied. "Terrible people. Adams wasn't as bad as some, but I didn't move into America until about fifty years ago, in the sixties, when things started to get interesting. And sometimes I think even that was a mistake."

She finished buying new clothes, specifying Rachel's address for delivery, and turned her computer off. Standing up, she wandered around the shop. She smiled to herself. Everything she needed was here.

“Tell me, Josh, have you ever made a sword before?"

“A sword? Yeah. I dabbled in weapons when we first moved out here. It was right when I first started casting my own bronze and I wanted something simple to practice on. Can't get much simpler than a blade.”

He opened a low drawer set under the table and pulled out a long, slender object. "What do you think?"

"Nice," she said, impressed. The blade was about thirty inches long, impressively sharp, the hilt wrapped in soft leather. She lifted it, testing the weight and balance, and quickly moved through a series of exercises, heedless of Yasna's startled glance. "How long would it take you to make one of these for me?"

He shrugged.

“We can start on the mold right now. I have clay here. I could have it ready by this evening. It doesn't take long. Melt the bronze while I'm doing that and cast it. Then a day or so to sharpen it and make the hilt."

“Thursday, then, as a worst-case scenario. Good. Let's get started. The sooner I have a weapon the better I'll feel.”

"This is to be used against Kincaid? That...that thing that chased us last night?" Yasna asked. Althea nodded her reply.

“Then why a sword? Wouldn't something else be better? Guns? Grenades?" Her Lips quirked in dark humor.