Grey had been right.

Thunder shook the house on its rickety beams. Hail pelted against the glass. My eyes flashed open as the entire sky lit up in barbed white fire. I ran to the spider-web cracked window to see the trees bending in half against the gale force of the reckoning that had enveloped around the property.

No, I had not woken up the house to get them out the night before. I'd thought about it, but I couldn't leave. Not yet. I hadn't sworn I would do that. I hadn't said anything at all when he'd asked me to save the ladies and Alastair. He didn't know me. I didn't save people.

Another raucous boom rattled my bones and made my heart leap. It was right on top of us. I shoved open the window and stuck my head out. The hail bombarded my skin and I squinted through the tumult. It wasn't even wet, just hard, cold piercing pain. I leapt and knelt on the window ledge but was nearly toppled out of the house as the wind rammed me like a bull. My fingers whitened on the wood-frame as I braced myself. When I'd regained my hold, I looked out again. I couldn't see much beyond the first few rows of the orchard. Touches of orange bled through the dark gray sky like the sun was warring with the tempest to take hold of the day again.

It was like a hurricane created by the true master of storms himself. A mad grin spread up my face before an explosive laugh ripped away from my lips into the whirling mania. A dazzling light struck itself across the clouds, outshining the peeks of sun. The electricity bounded up my arms making me shiver at the zing. The lightning strike zigzagged over away from the cottage heading toward the northwest point of the amica orchard where I knew a river ran beneath a tiny hidden cave.

My smile fell.

Storms were an exhilarating release from the world. My screams couldn't be heard because the sky was screaming too. They were feral, undesired, formidable forces that no mortal man had any say over. Imagining owning that power gave me idyllic chills. Because I didn't have that privilege, standing within the tirade was enough.

For the first time, something about the storm didn't sit well with me. The lightning's direction almost made a direct beeline for a river by a hidden cave filled with bruised amicas. My shoulders stiffened like someone had twisted up the muscles from the inside. 

Another strip of light blazed above, closer than the other, but it's tail ricocheted back to the same point as the first. My eyes narrowed, and I precariously stretched myself out further to see more through the thickening fog.

I felt it on the back of my neck before I saw it. A third crack of lightning burst right overhead and turned the previous tingling sparks into spears of white-hot daggers that inflamed through my veins. I registered the massive light, but then the pain faded as it crackled over the surface of dark clouds. It reminded me of a dragon of old, like the kind Ixthens worshiped. The deadly electrical streak fractured the sky in half before it landed where a runaway had found refuge.

Shallow breaths kept me conscious as the remnant of the strike burned behind my eyelids. I don't know how I kept hold of the window frame. My fingers were adamant and I could barely move them as if my grip turned to stone.

That strike should have hit the house. I should be dead. The woods should be ablaze. There should at least be a fire coming from where all three bolts struck. But there was nothing.

A harsh tug on the back of my pants caused me to fold in half as I fell backward through the window, hitting my head on the top before crashing to the bedroom floor.

I glowered at Alastair, whose face was pale. "Come on, Salem! We have to go!" He snatched my arm, about to drag me out without my shirt. I yanked myself free and snagged it right as I heard a high whinny. Did the horses get free? I glanced out the window right in time to see a parade of sleek black steeds racing across the lawn and into the orchard. Bone colored cloaks blurred atop the animals that galloped into the maelstrom.

Peacekeepers.

"Come on!" Alastair shouted again and wrenched me out the door.

Sera and Hannah were squabbling like chickens with their heads cut off, down on the main level.

"We have to get the weave kit.

"Where's Don's medal of honor?"

"I need my special whisk brush."

"Oh! The recipe book!"

"And the Kalta seasoning!"

Alastair rushed between them. "That's enough. We need to leave now."

Hannah caught at his sleeve. "I've never seen a storm like this, in all my years. The last I've heard of anything like this was when it happened to the cursed city. Do you think he has come for us?"

I turned my head to a window where I watched one of the younger tree's half-uproot itself. Feraway, the cursed city that was obliterated by Chaos, they say, by a storm unlike any other. I was one of the only survivors. Maybe that's why I had a thing for them.

Alastair cupped the old woman's face. "No, my dear. Chaos had been dormant for over a decade. Storms still happen. I promise you this is certainly not his full power."

I looked back at my guardian. "If Chaos is dormant, how do storms happen?"

"Life still goes on, Salem. The structure of life and it's many patterns were put into place by the fates and they continue with their mere presence, even if they are not actively doing anything. Sometimes they step in and do more, but mostly they watch over us now and let life occur on its own."

"Chaos only watches so that he knows when to strike. He wants to destroy us," I whispered from the multitude of times I'd heard those words.

Hannah's eyes glistened, and her wrinkled hands shook.

"And even if he is in hibernation or if the fates truly managed to put him in his place, he still has his remaining children crawling about." Sera bustled back in from the kitchen, her arms filled with dishes, a shiny metal, a huge book, and more than a few seasoning jars. "You saw the peacekeepers."

Hannah burst into tears. "I don't want to leave! This is my home! We can't let the Chaos children take it from me."

"Also, it's the anniversary today," Sera whispered. "It's the anniversary of the cursed city's obliteration. This was the day that Chaos threw one big fit before vanishing. Perhaps this is him breaking free."

Hannah sobbed harder. "By the fates! Please no!"

Alastair took a deep breath. "Everything is fine. This is not Chaos breaking free. Please ladies, I need you to hold on. Things get better."

"I don't want to go." Hannah sniffed.

Sera marched over to me and dropped their belongings into my arms, then spun around and took Hannah's hand. "We will go together."

"But what about Don?" She rubbed at her damp cheeks. "We cannot leave him."

I adjusted the junk in my arms and looked to the window again. The orchard ghost had told me he was leaving just a few hours ago. He had to be long gone.

Another bolt of lightning shot in the direction of the little burrow filled with bruised amicas.

We shoved our way out into the deadly storm. The hail was not attacking as aggressively as before, but the wind was nowhere near letting up. For once I was grateful for my nearly bald head as I watched the crones struggle to keep their hair out of their faces.

Alastair and I loaded the bats' belongings under the tarp of the cart. The old man pulled out a short silver carving knife and etched the lock sigil to the corners, securing it down. Then we ran back to the horses whose eyes were wide. They stood on the hind legs, whinnying like they could see the red reaper himself. They tugged hard on their ropes, but Alastair's mark was a powerful one.

The alchemist had to shout to be heard, grabbing at the reins to steady the frightened creatures.

"Oh my," Hannah gasped from behind me.

I turned and saw the women staring into the opening of the orchard trees as one of the peacekeepers, aboard his pitch black mount, stepped out.

"You!" He barked at us, his voice cut through the thunder almost like icy lightning himself. He brought up his animal in front of us. His hood had been blown back and his face was the same ghastly color as his cloak. "Who is the owner of this property?"

"It's—It's under my husband's name. Don—Donavan Herwith," Hannah stammered, shrinking against the arm that Sera had around her.

"Where is he?"

"I am right here." Alastair stepped forward, the ropes undone and around his arm. He had calmed the horses, somewhat. Though the way their heads jerked back and forth said they were still strung-up.

I glanced at the man. Granted, he looked old, but he was clearly a few decades behind the hags.

The peacekeeper's eyes narrowed, but he didn't contradict Alastair. "Do you have an explanation for what's happening here?"

Alastair shoved his long beard out of his mouth and spoke, keeping steady eye contact. "A bad storm that must have come from the west. It's clearly a dangerous one that we must relocate away from until it has calmed itself."

An earsplitting boom made the ladies squeal and huddle closer to each other and not two seconds after, a lightning bolt struck. But it didn't go to the same spot as it had been. It hit closer to us, somewhere at the center of the trees and we all heard a tremendous crack and smoke furled up from the swaying greenery.

The peacekeeper's attention averted to the woods, probably looking to see if his comrades would be making it out soon.

Another flash in a random place, luckily did not touch down, but it was closer again. I wondered if it would hit the house like it should have before.

Alastair slipped over to Sera and whispered something in her ear while the peacekeeper wasn't looking.

She went back to the cart to hitch the horses up while the cold man on his dark mount was distracted.

Hoof-beats pounded out over the shrieking wind, and black horses stampeded out of the orchard. At the end of the haul, among the last few peacekeepers, another person rode in front of the cloaked rider. More accurately, the peacekeeper had his hand wrapped taut with a rich, red scarf, keeping the small, blond boy from breathing fully.

My entire body went rigid.

"We found this," a low grunt from the captor was heard from under his hood before he flung Grey off the horse, still holding the scarf tight, which was knotted around the pale boy's neck.

Grey fell to his knees, gasping and tugging at the noose he'd unknowingly provided.

I took an involuntary step forward, my body still unbearably tense.

"Is it the cause?" The original asked. He rode his horse closer to the pack.

"See for yourself." The gruff peacekeeper jerked back his wrapped hand. Grey reared up as he was lifted so far off the ground his toes barely touched the grass. His strangled, choking cries sliced through the storm's howls like nails screeching down a chalkboard.

He clawed at his throat, tugging down the strong, red fibers and revealed a strange black tattoo: a dark angled eye bisected by a jagged slash. The center beat wildly as its entirety encompassed around his shuddering pulse. 

The mark of Chaos.

Grey was a Chaos child.

The head peacekeeper rounded back on us. "You have been harboring a Chaos child. That's against the law and all must be punished."

"No!" Grey's faint croak stabbed through my stone chest. "They—they didn—" He writhed like a fish caught on a hook, twisting and thrashing. His complexion was ashy, but he pushed the words past his blue-tinged lips. "They—didn't—didn't know—not involved—"

I thought I had known. I thought I had known about the runaway hiding in the orchard. But it showed just how much of a fool I was. It took me forever to put together he was the old ladies' "ghost". And I had to have the mark of Chaos shoved in my face to get the reason he was a runaway was that he was a servant to a tyrannical, psycho fate.

"We—we didn't know!" Hannah verified Grey's words. "We would never harbor a monster. We only want peace. Please! We swear it!"

"Take them all," The leader ignored both begging parties, and turned away as three peacekeepers galloped forward.

"NO!" Grey screamed, hoarsely. He thrust out one hand and his face hardened. The light swirling in his impossible eyes ignited, and the same feeling that I had up on the windowsill surged over my body. Blinding light walled down between the peacekeepers and the four of us by the house, completely blotting out Grey, and ultimately obscuring everything from view.

I grunted as my spine smacked against the hard ground— as if it hadn't been abused enough over the past few days. I scrambled to my feet, head spinning on a broken axis. I could see nothing but a white haze. The gust of heat against my face and the familiar crackling sound was all I was aware of. Then the sound of horses braying came from all directions. They were followed by angry cries from the peacekeepers, sobs from Hannah and the comforting words of Alastair. I rubbed my eyes and blinked, trying to clear them. Large spots blocked most of my vision, but I could see the long line of fire dividing the cloaked men from the ladies, Alastair and I. But Grey remained on the other side.

The black horses stamped about, swaying their heads, mostly blind. Some had fallen over, their riders limping hurriedly back. The peacekeeper that had Grey was further away than the others and only had to settle his horse. His grip on the scarf hadn't loosened and the boy at the end of it sagged.

The lead peacekeeper was one of the men that had fallen. His face contorted into an expression of fury. He pulled out his redwood staff and marched toward the barely conscious child.

I surged forward. Alastair called my name, but I was already in the air, leaping over the burning flames that licked around my legs. I gritted my teeth and bent my knees so I rolled without too much damage. I sprang up and charged toward the headman's fallen horse. There was a sheathed sword attached to the saddle. I dove for the hilt and yanked it out. Then I raced the man, who turned in shock only to see me dash past him. I swung the blade high over my head, my entire body flooding with adrenaline, and brought it down over the scarf-bound wrist.

A loud piercing shriek filled the air as the peacekeeper's hand fell along with the boy. Grey collapsed onto the grass, face first. His back rose heavily as he struggled to return the air that had been stolen from him. I didn't wait for him to fully recover. I recklessly dropped the heavy sword and exchanged it for the Chaos child's hand.

I pulled him up, and he blinked blearily at me. "When I say jump, jump," I said before spinning around and sprinting back toward the fire, dragging Grey after me.

The ragged leader of the law enforcers waved his staff and the earth trembled beneath our feet. I wobbled but didn't slow my pace. Grey slipped down to one knee briefly, but I heaved him up and we pressed on.

Another man on the ground dove to tackle us. I swerved and Grey tucked the ends of his scarf further around his neck, so it didn't fly out behind him like a taunting banner.

One of the black horses made to block our path, but I dove underneath it's legs. Grey stumbled along behind, grunting as it's back leg hit his side. Then the fire was there. It had risen and spread, but we lacked the privilege of slowing or rerouting.

"JUMP!" I screamed and the two of us leapt as high as we could. Heat enveloped the pair of us, scorching through my skin. Fierce burns ate away at my hand around Grey's. I gripped him tighter and the two of us fell out of the fiery gate with an inelegant crash. My twisted ankle that hadn't acted up for a while, seared with pain. And flames climbed my other boot up to my pant-leg.

Grey wheezed beside me. He tugged his scarf off completely, revealing Chaos's eye for full view. Then he leaned over and used the scarlet material to beat out the fire on my shoe.

"Josiah!" The leader hollered.

One of the dazed men lurched forward and swung his own long stick through the flames, appearing to swallow the raging light away enough for one of the peacekeepers that had remained on their horse to gallop forward and make their animal leap the remainder of the burning wall.

This time, Grey pulled me up and towed my hobbling self back to the cart. Alastair stood beside it, watching us before he climbed into the driver's seat and took the reins. The two old ladies sat in the back, on top of the tarp.

The black stallion landed on the other side, unscathed. Others followed suit. I clenched my teeth, my leg getting worse. There was no way I could make it there before the peacekeeper got us. I opened my mouth, my hand slackening, but Grey spun and warned quickly. "Close your eyes!" He dropped the scarf and outstretched his hand toward the approaching hooded man.

Agony, much deeper than fire, popped through my blood, right under my skin like tiny yet excruciating explosions. It originated from our entwined hands and lanced through the rest of my body. My own cry echoed in my ears as my eyes watered. I slammed them shut like he had said as the strike of lightning made me crumple.

My whole body buzzed. My insides burned, but much like a firework— there was a thrill to it. I felt jittery and more alive than I ever had. I grinned and turned my face up to Grey who grinned back.

He hauled me up and pushed me toward Alastair, who grasped my wrist and swung me up beside him.

Grey darted back and snagged his scarf. Then he turned, and I saw his stare slide past us as if he planned to tear off somewhere on his own.

"Come on, boy," Alastair had already reached out his hand again.

Grey's electrical eyes landed on the man and widened. He vigorously shook his head.

The peacekeepers were recovering quickly.

"Get on!" I yelled at Grey. "Right now, idiot!"

He bit his lip, but he took Alastair's arm and was plopped down beside me.

"You told me you were leaving last night," I said.

"You didn't swear on the storm to tell everyone to get out. I had a feeling that I might have to stay to pick up your slack." His voice was rough and I could see a faint line of purple bruising forming around his throat.

I grimaced.

Grey smirked. This boy, this Chaos child, who had almost suffocated minutes previously, smiled way too much.

Alastair whipped the ropes and our two horses bucked forward. We bumped along the dirt road as fast as we could go. Actual rain finally broke through the clouds, spattering onto our faces and cooling the burns that were making themselves indisputably known. As if taking this as a cue, Alastair veered quickly from the path before we could get caught in the mud, and the five of us traversed into the uncharted forest.