Dear Diary,

"I have learned over the years that when one's mind is made up, this diminishes fear; knowing what must be done does away with fear."

- Rosa Parks

I'd say something pithy about still being afraid even when I've made up my mind, but that would require me ever actually making decisions and not second guessing them. Like, yeah, I make plans, yeah, I know what I need to do, but right up until the moment when I press the Big Red Shiny Button, I'm totally afraid shit is gonna go sideways at the last possible minute.

That's total nonsense though. Shit goes sideways after that last possible minute like, every goddamned time I do shit. I kill the kidnapper and save the baby, and a Goddess incarnates. I go to Cure everybody, and a Primordial shows up while another God does a runner. I set up a set piece battle where we've got every advantage, and an Undead Dragon shows up. I kill one percent of New Amsterdam's population, and... Um... Okay, nothing really went wrong after that, but that was, like, one time.

Although... honestly, the moment things go into motion, the moment I light the fuse, or kick over that first domino, all that worry, all that uncertainty? Totally fades away. Hell, it evaporates like water on a griddle. Okay, probably closer to sweat dripped into a deep fat fryer, given how much I typically wind up splattered with greasy pain, but still, fear? Worry? Concern? Once the plan is in motion, that shit's gone. The weird part is that it's not always all rage and pain, either. Okay, there's usually some pain involved. No plan survives contact with the enemy, and full contact enemy surviving usually leaves some marks. But, and this is important, you should see the other guys. Well, okay, Artemis is back to her pre nose ruination self, mostly, but she's a lot more polite. Apollo is a stick, I think I breathed in what remained of Sengann, Gregor's headless, the Undead Dragon is so much slime on the bottom of the Bay, and Oliver... yeah, Oliver is like my poster child for 'we can sit down and discuss this like adults, or you can look like this, your choice'.

Y'know, now that I look at it like that? I feel a lot better about it, what with the whole, 'sit down and talk it out like adults' being my actual preferred option. I mean, boring assed shit, but I don't lose a week of canoodling to recovery after a political conference.

So yesterday night Saffron realized I felt some kinda way about her inability to stop giggling, so she kissed my ass until I stopped being butthurt about it. Like, literally, because Kitten has developed Ultimate Mom Technique: Deliver Heal Injury via Lips. Weird, but what am I gonna do? Saying 'oh, no, that's not my kink, leave me waddling around in pain' or some shit just seems stupid, and I try not to do shit that seems stupid when I think about it for more than five seconds.

Weirdest outcome from yesterday; I wound up having to do the entire 'rip an Undead Soul out, Smite it, Revive' seven fuckin' times, because five Zombies, two Fell Snipers, and one Lich were in fact lying face down on the ground just like I'd told them to. The newly re-alived Calvertonites weren't super thrilled about being confined to the Black Dragon, but we didn't have a lot of options that kept them out of circulation, and the problems we'd laid out with Orla held for all of them.

Those with basic math skills can tell that leaves one odd man out. Well, woman. One of the Snipers, Garde by name, was just done with life, the universe and everything.

"Seriously, I'm pretty sure I can get you a spot in Hel; it's got a skylight now, so it's way less gloomy." I held her Soul's hand in M-Space as new tentacles slowly grew out of the ground around us.

She shook her head. "I... I can't go back. I can't go on. I don't even know why I laid down."

I squeezed her hand. "Because you didn't want to burn to ash?"

"I don't know why, though. If you were to burn me now? I'd consider it a mercy. I just... I just can't."

"Don't you have any family you can stay with?" She shook her head. "Friends?" Another little head shake.

I thought about what I'd done for Bonnie, about the choice I'd given her before returning her. More importantly, I thought about why. "If I send you back, you're just gonna off yourself or something, aren't you?" She just stared at the ground and nodded. "Let me show you Hel and Hades before you decide?"

She sighed. "As you will."

I took her by the hand and stepped us both first to Hades, where she looked around at the surprisingly peaceful gloom, then shook her head. Next we stepped to Hel, and even the sun shining through the rift I'd broken through the roof of the cave didn't seem to raise her spirits.

"I don't want to just leave you to wander."

"I do not wish to wander endlessly either."

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Do you mind if I hit you with another Smite? If you're not Undead, it doesn't hurt."

She shrugged. "As you will."

I stepped back to the endless meadow of gently undulating Mimic tentacles, fired up the biggest Smite I could while directly connected to Her Dark Fatassness in M-Space. I didn't hammer her with it, I gently released it into her, like a constant warm breeze. Her frown gradually faded, replaced by a look of calm serenity.

"So. What do you want to do?"

Her eyes had slipped shut while the Smite washed over her, and she said, "if I could just... end. Right now. Like this? I would be content."

I couldn't help how my own shoulders slumped, because I knew of only one way to do what she wanted. "I... I think I could arrange that. I'm not sure it'll be painless though."

She smiled ruefully. "I suppose nothing worthwhile ever is. Whatever it is, you've done nothing but try to help me. I trust you. So long as I end, do with me as you will."

I lifted her gently into a princess carry and stepped us to Mimic's maw. I tried not to think about how I knew exactly how to get there, even if I had no idea where it was. "You sure about this?"

"Yes."

I held her out, and a single tentacle reached out from within the maw, curling about her almost delicately. It pulled her from me, then lowered her into the maw. I'm not exactly sure why, but the moment she crossed that threshold, her Soul dissolved bit by bit, until the last part of her to go was that serene smile. "Good bye, Garde. Rest well." I knew she couldn't hear me, but it felt wrong just walking away without saying anything.

I still have no idea if that was the right thing to do.

I'd intended to push my plan forward more yesterday, but after her? I just couldn't. I worked with Marie and Saffron on the new place. I think Saffron maybe understood I wasn't in the mood to banter with the boys, so it was just the three of us. I melted a shit ton of rock together to create one of the foundation stones for our new house. I thought a rock that big would crack or something while it cooled, but apparently Saffron had some way to keep it from fucking itself up. I just watched, thinking about that smile.

I spent the night bundled in with the family, surrounded by our extended temporary family of refugees; even a few of the new Maenads decided to spend the night. I couldn't sleep, that smile haunted me.

I couldn't waste today. I had to make up for lost time, really. So along with everything else, including the me working on the new house forming another foundation stone, I visited Conrad. "Hey, son. I had a thought. Any chance you could make a Cold Iron helmet?"

He frowned. "You want such a thing?"

I shook my head. "Nah. Trying something with the former Undead."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, then, Mother. Were it for you? I might try, although I would need to borrow the Academy's forge, and without my tools the result might not be up to my normal standards. But to protect you I would," he winced. "Lower them. But I'm afraid Cold Iron is the one substance my Workshop cannot work."

I pulled him in for a quick hug to let him know I wasn't upset. "No worries, Son. I know you would if you could. D'you think Jon or one of the other Academy smiths could do something? Maybe with your help?"

He shrugged. "I'll certainly oversee them, if that is your wish." When I nodded, he sighed and said, "oh, I have something for you."

I tilted my head, and he held out a small, velvet-covered box with a hinged lid. Overall the thing was maybe two inches on each side. "Is that what I think it is?"

He grinned. "And more."

I gave him another hug, this one positively gleeful. "Thanks, Son!"

"You're not even going to look at them?"

I shook my head. "I know without even looking that they're better than anything I could have imagined." At his continued pout, I realized something and smiled at him. "But you want to see the look on my face when I open this, don't you?" He wouldn't let himself nod, but a mother knows some things. I opened the lid, and as it pivoted a shelf slipped up, revealing two layers of shining, glittering beauty. "Why twelve?"

He smiled at me, "I assumed Mom would want a set. Was I wrong?"

I snapped the lid shut and threw my arms around his neck. "They're perfect in every way, son."

Then I hopped off to collect one of the Academy Smiths. Not Jon; he said he couldn't leave, and definitely couldn't go haring off to Calverton, but one of the other smiths, whose name turned out to be Johann, came along with me. I settled him in at a forge in one of the Army encampments, handed him the Cold Iron we'd gotten off of the Lich Knight the night before, and explained what I wanted.

Then I went to visit the... not prisoners. The recovered Calvertonites? Yeah, I guess that's it. I brought them in to talk with Orla, hoping she'd explain the situation, and got a pleasant surprise when not only did she, but the others seemed to take her word for it that their best option was staying more or less locked up aboard the Black Dragon. Apparently whoever she'd been before she got Undeaded, the others all deferred to her. Handy. Some part of me wondered if Garde would have chosen differently if I'd made her talk to Orla. But I'd seen one too many people choose suicide by cop, and that never went down without collateral.

But I still had shit to do. From the mast of the Black Dragon, I scanned the Undead held portion of Calverton, picking out the tallest buildings. I chose one, then leaned back into Marie's embrace. "Brace me?" Her claws wrapped around my shoulders, and I stepped to my chosen perch. I amplified my voice, tossed up a tight Filtration Ward, and started my patter.

"ATTENTION! Calverton Miasma victims! If you were raised against your will, or regret your choice to become Undead, you may be entitled to restoration! Come to your nearest bridge at sunrise for more details!"

A few arrows flew at me, the first one bouncing off my Ward, but I'd already stepped to another perch to repeat my announcement. Over and over and over, every few minutes I picked a new perch and repeated myself. Once some lightning flew at me and I stepped away. Eventually Liches started climbing to the tops of the tallest buildings, a couple per, Miasma Wards up to prevent me from just hopping to them.

By the end of the day The Dress got more than a little skeevy, what with the sweat from me throwing up Ward after Ward, amplifying myself over and over, and hopping from rooftop to rooftop all fuckin' day long. I collapsed back into myself at the end of the day, Marie sweeping me up into a hug. I loved her so much for it, but...

I still couldn't get that smile out of my head.