Hump tasted copper; it clung to the back of his throat, coating it like oil. The sensation—the stench—was nauseating. He couldn’t turn away from the girl’s bloodied flesh. The red wound around her neck where her head had been torn from her.

His heart was like thunder in his ears. Adrenaline coursed through him. He felt the urge to run to the boat and flee. To paddle away from this place and straight back to the town.

There was so much blood.

For a long moment, all he could do was stare, but sense returned to him. He forced himself to turn away. The girl had died not ten feet from her home. It was only a small building, made mostly of packed mud and vegetation, with a few wooden beams for support. The door was gone—torn from its hinges—the shredded remains now littering the ground around it. And beyond that…

A foot poked out from inside. Hump gazed at it unblinking, not daring to breathe. He didn’t want to see the true horror that lay beyond.

“What could have done this?” Dylan whispered, his voice quivering. He looked pale as a ghost.

“I…” Hump trailed off, his mind clouded, his thoughts a mess of fear, sadness and guilt as he listened to Kastin’s unrestrained tears. Should they have helped him paddle? Could they have arrived soon enough to stop this? He glanced around the rest of the hamlet, searching for any sign of life. Hoping to catch a glimpse of movement amongst the trees. But there was nothing. No matter how much he hoped, there were no gods watching over them, no guiding fate or destiny. This was reality, and it was as violent as bloody as always.

Get it together, his master’s voice snapped harshly in his head. Focus on the job at hand. There’s still work to do, and someone’s got to do it.

He was a hedge wizard. An adventurer. Blood and violence was just another day.

Hump drew in a deep breath, forcing the stench of blood from his mind and focusing inward, calming his heart and soul. He envisioned the rivers coursing through his body. They were no longer simple lines in his mind, but essence pathways, each of them connected to his core. Into the waves he threw all the emotions that would only slow him down. He felt his body relax, the cloud in his mind clear, and the instinct to run subside. He would need all of it to figure out exactly what had happened.

He fought against his instincts and examined the body of the girl, hoping to somehow piece together what must have happened. The body was spotted with teeth and claw marks, but for the most part the flesh had been left untouched. The chest, however, was torn open, the organs inside missing. Judging from the mess, they appeared eaten.

He wondered if that made ritual sacrifice more or less likely. He knew of some rituals that required a human sacrifice, but there were no signs of any components nearby. Demonic possession and body transformation seemed more likely, but to confirm that he’d need to inspect the scene with Magic Eye. For now, that wasn’t a priority. There could be people that needed help, and it was possible whatever did this could still be around. That meant they needed to get moving.

“We have a job to do,” Hump said, trying to replicate the to-the-point tone of his master. “Dylan, we don’t know what did this but we’re going to find out. We can grieve later. For now, we need to do what we can. There could be people still here that need us.”

Dylan looked at him with blank white eyes, still processing his words. Hump could see the same fight going on in him that he’d experienced himself. For all Dylan’s combat experience, clearly this was his first true moment experiencing the darker side of adventuring.

“How do you want to do this?” Celaine asked.

Hump turned to her, grateful she was onboard so quickly. “The area’s not safe. Could you sweep the perimeter and see if you can find any tracks leading away from the village? We need to make sure we don’t get caught off guard. The rest of us will check the houses.”

“I’ll let you know if I find something.” She headed up the hill, pausing after only a few steps and turning back to them. “Stick together. Something might still be inside.”

Hump nodded. “We’ll be careful.”

“Shout if you need me.”

Bud let out a long sigh and rubbed a hand over his face. “We should get inside—” He stopped, his eyes falling on the foot in the doorway. Whirling around and pressing a fist to his mouth, he suppressed a gag.

“Come on.” Hump clapped the knight on the shoulder and gave him a gentle push. Bud stumbled onward on his own, but Dylan remained where he was behind Kastin, staring down at the headless corpse. “Dylan, are you good?”

“How can I be good?” Dylan growled. “We were too late!”

Hump clenched his jaw. “I know. And we can beat ourselves up over it later, but right now we owe it to the dead to keep going and do what we can.”

“I knew her, Hump. Her name was Pol.” Dylan clenched his fists. He was shaking. “Gods, Kastin, I’m so sorry.”

“My family,” the fisherman said through his tears. “I left them behind. Do you think they’re…” He choked on his words.

A little light seemed to return to Dylan. He stood taller, taking a breath, then said, “Just stay here. We’re going to search.”

Kastin nodded numbly.

“Are you ready?” Hump asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered, so quietly Hump hardly heard. “I’m good. Sorry for zoning out on you there.” He glanced back at Kastin and opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Let’s go.”

They found Bud in the house, standing over the body of a young man who stared up with glazed eyes. Blood pooled on the ground around him. His throat had been torn open, blood splattered his face and clothes. Cuts on his arms showed that he put up some semblance of a fight, but Hump was under no pretences—this had been a slaughter.

“The rest of the house is clear,” Bud said solemnly. “Just the one body.”

“This was Fen,” Dylan said. “He was a charcoal burner.”

Bud approached and clasped Dylan’s shoulder. “We’ll find what did this and make sure they never have a chance to do it again.”

Dylan clenched his fist around his quarterstaff. “We will. It—they… whatever it is, it needs to die.”

The druid had lost his temper a couple of times since they’d met, but the quiet rage in his voice now was something new. This was a promise. A promise Hump swore alongside him. The dead would be avenged.

“Did you find any signs of what did this?” Hump asked.

“A couple of bits of broken furniture and claw marks on the floor. That’s it.”

Hump scratched his head. “We’ll check the other houses and clear the area first, then I’ll use Magic Eye to see if I can pick up any traces of essence. Do you know Lakewood’s exact population?”

“Thirty-two,” Dylan said. “We’ll need to check with Kastin to see if anyone other than Talburt is away. It’s not uncommon for them to visit family in some of the other hamlets around the lake.”

“Is that number including Nini and the two Kastin reported dead?” Bud asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Hump said. “Twenty-eight people left—there must be survivors. Entire villages can’t just be wiped out.”

“By all the gods above, I hope you’re right,” Dylan said.

Hump felt a surge of anger. “If the gods gave a shit, things like this wouldn’t happen.” He snapped his mouth shut the moment the last word came out, wincing as he glanced at Bud. The knight stared at him with his mouth slightly agape. “Sorry. I shouldn’t lose my temper.”

Bud sighed. “It’s not for the gods to meddle in mortal affairs, nor for us to judge them.”

“Yeah.” Hump stared at Fen’s body. “But damn, I wish they’d just go that extra step in moments like this.”

The search didn’t get any better from there. Bud led the way, his sword ready, Hump following a short distance behind in the most defendable position, while Dylan brought up the rear. They entered each house ready for a fight and hoping for survivors. All they found was death. No monsters, no signs of rituals, just bodies.

With each one, he was reminded more of Bledsbury Dungeon. Men, women, and children killed indiscriminately by monsters that cared nothing for life. As the body count grew, Hump’s dread grew with it. Most hadn’t been eaten, their bodies marred only by the wounds that killed them. They’d died for sport; slaughtered for the fun of it.

He wanted to find a quiet corner and throw up, but he made himself put one foot in front of the other and keep going. By some twist of logic, despite being partied with three Chosen, he was the most experienced of their group. He had to keep a level-head. One slip up was enough, he wouldn’t lose his temper again.

“Another one,” Bud said. They were approaching the final house and a body lay on the ground outside.

Nine houses. Seventeen bodies. Over half the population dead in or around their homes. Each site one of a bloody and violent death. This man’s torso was torn open, the organs inside gone like a few of the other bodies. A trail of blood led from him up to the house.

“Looks like it dragged him out,” Bud said, following the trail into the house.

“That’s Doril,” Dylan said. “He was getting on in years but was once the best hunter of the group.”

“He put up a fight,” Hump said, noting the missing right arm and countless wounds across the rest of him.

“I found something,” Bud called from inside and they followed. He was standing over a spear, the blade bloodied. “Looks like he stabbed the bastard.”

“I might be able to use the blood,” Hump said, kneeling beside the spear. He didn’t need a spell to know it wasn’t human. It was a rich, purple colour, almost wine-like. “Check the rest of the house. I’m going to activate Magic Eye and see if I pick up anything from it.” He fumbled in his pouch for the bundle of herbs, and uttered, “Spark.”

The bundle smouldered on one side and Hump breathed in the smoke. He muttered the incantation under his breath and the world swam with trails of colour and light. As his mind grew clouded, he stared at the blood on the blade. It shimmered faintly, glossier than it should be. He hesitated a moment before touching a finger to the blood. The instant he did, a stab of fear lanced through him; one gigantic shiver that spread from his hand to the rest of his body.

He jumped back, heart racing.

“What is it?” Bud asked.

“Blood essence,” Hump said, staring with wide eyes.

“You were right then,” Celaine said, appearing in the doorway behind them.

“Maybe,” Hump said, scanning the rest of the room. “I’ve not seen any signs of ritualistic magic. I would have expected at least some basic runes.”

“What else could it be?” Dylan asked.

Hump shrugged. “Perhaps it really is demons. A summoning that got out of control or just an evil bastard that set them on the town.”

“I’ve never seen a demon,” Celaine said. “Would they do something like this?”

“If the stories are to be believed,” Hump said. “I’ve not seen one either and I’ve never heard of one showing up outside the Fallen Lands.”

“There’s a blood paw print here,” Bud said from the other end of the hallway. “Definitely not human.”

Hump glanced at it but sensed nothing from it. “Blood essence rules out most monsters. The only ones I can think of strong enough to do this are bloodwolves, and I’ve never heard of them randomly attacking a village like this. They tend to avoid settlements. Besides, I don’t think their affinity with blood would be strong enough to affect me so much.”

“Which leads back to the cultist theory,” Dylan said. “Those missing adventurers. It can’t just be a coincidence that they passed through here recently.”

Hump nodded grimly. “Considering the claws, they could be shapeshifters of some kind. Baring in mind the brutality of the attack, I’m leaning toward either the possession type or warlocks. I take it you didn’t see anything outside, Celaine?”

“Nothing living,” she said. “I found tracks leading away from the village that match the paw print. Whatever did this, it made no effort to conceal their presence.”

Hump rubbed his face, trying to think of anything that might connect this to the spirit attacks.

“What is it?” Bud said.

Hump sighed. “It’s a long shot, but what if they were creating more spirits. Maybe this is how they’ve been doing it.”

“Wouldn’t that need some sort of ritual?” Dylan asked.

“As I said, it’s a long shot. At least it would mean these people died for more than pointless slaughter. Though there’s an easy way to find out.”

“We follow the tracks,” Celaine said.

Hump nodded. “It could be dangerous though. This is a lot more than just the two dead we knew of when Vivienne sent us here. We don’t know what we’re up against, but anything with blood affinity will be dangerous.”

“We’re going,” Bud growled. “That shouldn’t even be a question. We can’t let beasts like this run free. What if they attack another village?”

“No argument here,” Hump said. “We need to approach this logically though. If we get ourselves killed, we’ll be of no help to anyone. Celaine, did you get any idea of their numbers?”

“Hard to say exactly, but from the tracks I’d guess at least three. Probably no more than seven. They look fresh, a couple of hours old at most.”

“What about the villagers?” Dylan asked urgently. “Did you see anyone leaving the village?”

“I did, but I’m sorry. There’s too many human tracks in the area, it’s impossible for me to distinguish between ordinary activity and… this.”

“We have to try,” Dylan said. “There must be some way to figure it out. Hump, do you have any tracking spells?”

Hump shook his head. “If Celaine doesn’t have a way, then none of us do.”

“Then what do we do?” Dylan asked.

“We go after the monsters,” Bud said. “Slay them and then there’s no threat left.”

“No,” Dylan said. “People could—”

“Shush,” Celaine interrupted, a sharpness to her voice that made them silent. She tilted her head, ears perked.

“What is it?”

She waved him away and tiptoed into the main room. The three of them waited without a sound, not even moving. Suddenly, she swept aside a rug on the ground and revealed a hatched door leading below ground.

She knelt, lifting open the hatch, then called, “Hello, is there anyone down there?”

A few silent seconds passed, then the quiet sniffling of a young girl echoed back. “Please don’t hurt me. Please…”