Jonathan awoke to the sensation of Abigail shaking him urgently by the shoulder, his entire body one big ache. "Ugh," he groaned as he pushed himself upright. "Abigail?"

"Oh thank the realms, it's you, Jonathan," she said and collapsed into his torso.

Jonathan reflexively grabbed her with one hand while he tried to steady himself with this other. "Whoa there, kiddo, what's—" Jonathan finally took a moment to look around. Why on earth was he lying on the contract ritual? The last thing he could remember was working in the kitchen with Abigail when that pair of strange men came charging in. Shit! "Those men! Abigail, is everyone alright? What happened?"

"They're gone. You—the demon—Ebola fought them off."

Ebola? Jonathan pushed Abigail away from him so he could get a look at her. "Abigail, what the hell happened?"

Jonathan stalked through the lower level of the orphanage. Halfway through describing what had happened after Jonathan's blackout, Abigail had realized that she hadn't had a chance to let the rest of the kids know that it was safe to come out of the attic, where they were evidently hiding, and Jonathan had sent her up there to get them while he made sure the orphanage was in fact safe.

What she'd said, though, was chilling. Though he was happy everyone was unharmed, having a demon take over his body was not a welcome way to achieve that goal. Abigail had been reticent to describe the demon's exact behavior, but from the way she shrank into herself while describing it Jonathan could read between the lines to tell that it wasn't anything he was comfortable with. She'd said that Jonathan's existing contract with her had protected her, but it clearly hadn't been enough. She'd also mentioned that she'd made a contract directly with the demon—this Ebola—but had remembered the other kids before she could get into details. Jonathan was going to need to know exactly what that entailed, because he sure as hell was going to take steps to ensure nothing like this ever happened again. It sounded like he was going to need to amend his contracts with all the kids, actually, because while she hadn't said it, he got the feeling that the demon would have happily attacked them if Abigail hadn't been around.

What a mess.

In contrast to his feelings of fury at the situation, the ground floor of the orphanage was eerily calm. The front door had been open, but when he'd poked his head out before closing it there were no signs of the invaders. In point of fact, the only place that was slightly disturbed was the kitchen; a number of the bowls he'd been washing were scattered on the ground, at least two of them shattered, and the washing tub itself had a large dent in its side, with the dirty washing water spilled across the floor. The back door was open, as well, and the rain had been blowing in.

Once more, there was no sign of their assailants, however.

Jonathan shivered. From what Abigail had said, it sounded like there had been at least four men, possibly more, and only one of them had escaped the attentions of the demon. Feeling paranoid, Jonathan started checking all the cupboards and closets on the ground floor, just to be sure no kids were likely to run across some unexpected bodies, but there was thankfully nothing.

"Jonathan?" called Kylus' voice, and Jonathan went back into the entryway. Abigail and Kylus were at the top of the stairs. "Is it safe for everyone to come down?"

"Yeah, Kylus. Those men who attacked us are gone."

"I meant—well, that's good." Kylus gave him a long look, and Jonathan winced. Evidently, he hadn't been asking about the men.

"I'm my normal self. That's not going to happen again, if I have any say in it."

"Good. Sandra's bringing the other kids down now."

Weird. Although Abigail had glanced back when he said that, Kylus hadn't taken his eyes off Jonathan the whole time. Something to ask about later.

In short order, the rest of the kids were clustered at the top of the stairs, as well.

"Come on down, kids, everything is safe now," Jonathan called up to them. "Ethan, we need to talk."

Ethan looked stricken, and Bethany grabbed his hand. "Are we going to have to move again?"

"No, Bethany," said Jonathan gently. "I just need to talk to your brother about the men who were at the orphanage just now."

"Men?" said Yanni. "Jonathan, is that really you? You did not sound right earlier."

"I'm sorry about that, Yanni," said Jonathan. "I was apparently possessed by a demon for a bit there. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure it doesn't happen again, but if I ever sound like that again, I want you to run away, okay?"

The kids had made it down the stairs at this point, but were still huddling pretty close together. Hm. Maybe something to get their minds off the whole ordeal? "Would you all be willing to help me out a bit while Ethan and I are talking? There's a bunch of spilled water in the kitchen that needs cleaning up…oh, although there's broken pottery, too. Maybe mopping up the water in the entryway would be safer…"

"We can do it," said Jamilah. "We will be very safe, won't we Bethany? Yanni?"

The little kids gave Jonathan solemn nods. "Thank you. Just—be careful with those pottery shards. I'll be in to help very soon."

Jamilah led most of the children back towards the kitchen, while Ethan stayed behind, still looking wretched. As soon as the troupe was through the kitchen door, he turned to Jonathan. "I'm sorry, Jonathan, this is all my fault!"

Jonathan took a breath. For all that he tried to act older and was responsible for so many younger kids, Ethan was looking really young. He couldn't be more than what, fourteen? Fifteen? "Ethan, look at me." Jonathan waited until Ethan met his eyes. "This wasn't your fault, Ethan. That's not why I wanted to talk to you. Yes, going into town was a mistake. I wish that you'd explained your situation to me before you left so that I could offer advice. But you didn't send men to attack us. You didn't force me to get possessed by a demon—Abigail said that demon's always been there, it just never got control before. Other people doing bad things to you is their choice, not yours. I don't blame you for this mess, and you shouldn't blame yourself, either."

Ethan looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Then why—?"

"According to the demon, one of the men escaped and presumably ran back to Eldridge. I assume this group came here to kidnap you and drag you back to town for this Petty Baron character, so now that we know we're on his radar, I need to get some idea of his capabilities and how he's liable to react. And I think you need to quit underestimating how much you and these kids matter to the guy. Clearly, if he's willing to chase your through Eldridge for however long, and then send a bunch of his toughs all the way out here, he thinks you're worth some investment."

Ethan was quiet for a moment. "It might not be so much that he wants us, as that he can't allow a bunch of kids to get away without repercussions. The Petty Baron, Fairbanks, the Rose…all of them care a lot about their reputations, but the Petty Baron is really extreme about it."

Jonathan dragged a hand down his face. "Great. So you're saying he's unlikely to just leave us be after going this far, simply because we successfully drove off his toughs?"

Ethan looked uncomfortable but nodded. "He won't want to look weak like that. But you said only one person…got away? If he lost a whole team, I don't think he's going to immediately send more people out. Especially given how far away we are from Eldridge."

"You're sure about that?"

Ethan flushed. "I mean…I think so. The gangs don't like sending too many people outside of town at once, because it leaves them weak to the other gangs."

"Makes sense. But say he decided he wanted to march on us in full strength, right now. How many people are we talking?"

Ethan scrunched up his face. "I don't know. Maybe twenty or thirty? But most of those would be pickpockets and the like. He only has maybe ten or twelve enforcers. That's why I don't think he's likely to attack us again so soon. He's more likely to send a small number of scouts, or hire outside muscle."

Jonathan eyed Ethan, wondering how much he could trust the kid's judgement, but at last sighed. It wasn't as if he was all that much more knowledgeable in the ways of petty crime lords in this world. "Okay, so we'll probably have some time to prepare, at the very least. Let's go make sure no one's hurt themselves on that broken pottery, eh?"

Ethan bowed his head. "Thanks, Jonathan."

"Don't worry about it. I meant what I said about you not blaming yourself over things that are out of your control. I'm going to be counting on you to help me come up with an evacuation plan and so forth, so—"

The front door flew open, and Jonathan spun around, shoving Ethan behind himself. A sopping wet Mr. Geiller poked his head in the doorway, his trusty medallion thrust out in front of himself. "What in Anthrax's name is going on over here?" he growled.

"Mr. Geiller," said Jonathan. "Just the man I was hoping to see."