Unfortunately, I wasn't able to tail the retreating party. They were too fast. By the time I made the decision, I had to get down and cut through all of our forces to pursue them, which was impossible if I had my mind set on staying hidden.

  That left me stuck with facing the outcome of the attack.

  Despite my fears, we didn't suffer any fatalities. Apparently, it is pretty difficult to kill someone in such a short time when only armed with melee weapons, and doubly so when unarmed, as some of the raiders were.

  Don't get me wrong—there were a lot of people that suffered significant wounds. Some of them were even life-threatening in the longer run. But when the miraculous ability to Heal is just seconds away and can be used by the victims themselves or a friendly hand, anything that doesn't outright kill you isn't going to leave much of a mark.

  I took stock of the people present.

  Kenny was unharmed, deep in the support group. It was a surprising choice since he was from Victor's crew, but it made sense not to put their Handyman in too much danger.

  Another surprising discovery was the total lack of participation from the coven. Claire made this big speech about the freedom to choose their actions, but at the end of the day, not one initiate from her ranks joined the effort. Not even Maggie, who was the most vocal about the dangers the cannibals posed, and as I learned, she was the one who actively intervened to stop the last kidnapping before the all-out assault they had on the plaza.

  Douglas's base, or should I say the cannibal's base was a horrifying place. Others with the same bright idea to explore it regretted it almost as fast as I did.

  The place had an all-pervasive feeling of filth, almost intentionally so. But It wasn't just mud or dust that gave it this unclean feeling. Oh no. It was the discarded bloodied patches of clothing and bones, ghoul and human, with human teeth marks on them.

  It was a charnel house.

  I don't believe even animals would desecrate their lairs that way, not that I was some expert on that. Common sense would prohibit anyone sane from living like that. It was surprising they didn't catch something nasty from the state of their abode.

  Then again, I didn't know if we could get sick anymore, with the lack of sleep and eating and all. Still, I wouldn't like to live like this, not one bit. I could barely stand being there for a brief inspection, as it were.

  The ornamental row of skulls in one of the rooms made me question if it served some religious purpose. It was the only room that felt like it held some significance.

  One of the skulls caught my attention. It had a familiar metal name tag placed below it.

  "B. DOUGLAS"

  The only representative of the law the Undercity had, for however brief of a time it lasted.

  "I didn't even know his first name," I mumbled to no one in particular in the highly surveyed room.

  "Baron," Edith supplied.

  I turned to look at her. She looked green around the gills, but she was holding it together, unlike others who quickly retreated from the house.

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  "Say what you will about dear old Baron, but he was keeping these guys under control," she added a little forlornly. "He's dead for less than a day, and we already have an all-out war. I can't see them getting any better under Michaelson's command."

  I shook my head. I didn't see it that way, but sometimes it's better to hold such opinions to yourself.

  It was his people, after all, that killed and ate him. He let them get to this point, so it was his fault things ended badly and not his merit that things didn't go tits up beforehand.

  "They are not going to stop," I said.

  I looked at the skulls and tried to imagine their numbers a week or a month from now.

  "No," Edith agreed with me. "The worst part about this is that the number of ghouls is decreasing. Fast. If things go on like that, they'll not be the only cannibals. They're just going to be the first."

  So I wasn't the only one that noticed.

  "What are you going to do about this?" I asked. It was the first time someone else brought this up with me, and I was interested to hear if there was a solution in the works.

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  "Going to go out hunting." She replied. "Not waiting until we are low on essence before we go out again. Stocking up for whatever comes next. Not that different from getting a farm ready for winter if you think about it."

  It was not enough.

  Time was running out, and it was definitely not enough. Stock up all you want, but even if you had all the remaining ghouls just for yourself, they would run out eventually. I didn't see any new ones joining the party.

  Not that I had a better suggestion.

  And if I didn't have a better idea to follow, I had to go with the bad one.

  ***

  It took me several more days to finish the sweep of the city.

  The catch wasn't all that incredible, but I was stepping back into the plaza two whole shades richer than when I left.

  That is, it would be that much if not for the constant energy leak just to sustain myself and the rare uses of spells during my travels. It made the return on my efforts somewhat diminished. Not by much, but enough to hurt.

  At least it was safe and easy, if a little labor-intensive. I liked the safety of hunting shades, but my action had seen to their extinction, and the next prey on the menu would have to be ghouls. Eventually, that is.

  The place was more somber and tense than I remembered.

  Almost no one went about their day alone. Everyone was armed and treated their surroundings with apprehension and heightened awareness.

  And yet, people were not built to live out their days in fear. So no matter how different or bleak things get, give us a couple of days to grow accustomed to the new normal, and that's exactly what we will do. We're going to get used to it.

  I passed a group of people to the side, who were playing some kind of game using stone cups and dice, their excitable exclamations and whoops attracting some attention but not as appealing as other gatherings around the plaza.

  In another group, people were busy lamenting the hardships and struggles of finding the blasted ghouls. For some of them, it took four days of non-stop venturing into the city to find their latest game. However, others were less than sympathetic to their plight claiming the only way to go about it was covering as much ground as possible, and if it took them this much, they were either unlucky or lazy.

  The larger gathering centered around a sole performer and what a performance it was.

  I stood transfixed, listening to the first sounds of music I had heard since I got here.

  A middle-aged woman was playing a simple wooden flute, the sounds were not perfect by any means, but the music could have brought a tear to my eye.

  You really don't know how much you'll miss something until you lose it.

  Several people joined her in dance, swaying to the soothing tones. Others hummed or tapped along.

  A rare display of unity.

  I stayed there more than intended, listening up to the very last notes, letting the sounds wash the feelings of stress from my body.

  My only regret was missing the start of the gig, but even in my emotional state in the heat of the moment, I couldn't challenge the fact that my outings were important enough to miss even rare spectacles such as these.

  Applause marked the show's end, and rare gifts of infused pentacle coins were added to a previously unnoticed piece of clothing, folded into something resembling a baggie.

  Despite the internal conflict, I decided to join them.

  What the heck? Every drop of essence could be crucial to surviving a little longer, but people like her made my continued survival worth the struggle.

  I brought out an empty pentacle coin from my pocket, its precious charge long since joined the rest in the larger sign on my body, and channeled essence into it, making a contribution similar to a near standard of the coins I have just witnessed.

  The sudden power spike and the lack of a distraction that kept all eyes away from me were enough to break my concealment.

  People started and cried out at my sudden appearance, but I didn't take any joy in the fright.

  "Oh, it's just Halloween," someone said under their nose.

  Fortunately, I was familiar enough, and my calm and measured approach to make my contribution did not aggravate anyone further.

  With that out of the way, I moved towards the shop.

  They, too, had their own party going by the sounds of it, and with my spirits lifted, I was less inclined to avoid it outright.