Chapter 28. The Day of Light

Jules walked up and down the corridor before the infirmary's closed door, running his hands through his hair. The thoughts were as tangled as the brown locks around on his head.

"Give it a break," Ravin leaned his back against the wall. He reached out and grasped the back of Jules' tunic just as the boy came to a turn by him. "If you have too much energy, go jogging."

"You don't let me out of the castle," Jules reminded him petulantly. He leaned against the wall by his master. "I just can't stand it!" he slammed his fists against the stones. "Think of all those people! Melissa... She's toying with us! Can we ever catch up with her?"

"We have to."

Jules slumped down into a sitting position. He pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his head on top of his knees. Mrs Thatcher' words echoed inside his head. 'She killed them all'. And then, the wraith had consumed their bodies... How strong would she become after feeding on so many people?

"Hey, Jules," Ravin reached out and tousled his apprentice's hair. "It'll be alright."

The boy shook his head, grimacing.

"How can you be so calm?" Jules ground his teeth. "I know what happened when you fought a wraith with Master Pritchard! Raimont told me!"

"Him and his big mouth," Ravin stuck his hands in the pocket of his trousers. He took a deep breath, but before he could add anything, the infirmary door opened.

Lara went into the corridor and closed the door quietly.

"They will be fine," she brushed her fiery lock back. "They were hysterical, so I gave them a calming potion. Now they are asleep. You'll have to wait until they wake up if you want to question them."

"How's Lucy?" Jules stood up and turned toward the healer. The Chief's daughter brought back the memories of his late sister. The two of them didn't look alike, and Lucy had survived a massacre while Maya hadn't. But they had been through a similar terror, and in Lucy's terrified eyes he could see a mirror reflection of his sister's face. "She'll be all right, won't she?"

"Evionel is sitting by her, in case she had nightmares," Lara gave the boy a warm smile. "I'm sure they'll recover."

She returned to the infirmary, leaving them alone by the closed door.

"I need to talk to Kedmon," Ravin patted Jules' arm to get his attention. The boy jumped, pulled out of thoughts. "Do you want to go with me?"

Jules nodded and followed his master down the corridor. As he climbed the stairs, his calf started to throb again - Lara had warned him it could hurt if he walked too much. Her magic made his wounds heal, but the tissue of his muscles had still to grow tight together.

"Jules," Ravin halted at the middle of the corridor. "You're limping."

"It's nothing," the boy shrugged.

"You're a bad liar and you know it," Ravin's voice sounded both stern and worried. "Did you use the ointment from Lara this morning?"

"Of course I did," Jules rolled his eyes. "We're almost at the Lord's office. Let's keep going."

They knocked at the door, but no one answered it. Jules waited at the corridor as Ravin went upstairs to see if Lord Kedmon was in his chamber. They came down together after a few minutes, arguing quietly.

"You won't make me change my mind," Kedmon motioned at Jules to close the door as they walked into his office. He sat in the carved chair behind the desk and rested his feet on the desktop. "There's no way of cancelling it, and you know it."

"It's reckless and dangerous," the hunter stopped in front of the desk and pulled a chair to sit on it. "The wraith preyed on the whole village. We'd been there while we'd been searching for the pears," he explained when the other man gave him a questioning look. "There were dozens of men living there. The wraith will have grown strong on their blood. It's not a good time for a festival."

"A festival?" Jules chimed in the conversation, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What festival?"

The men looked at him as if they forgot he was in the room.

"It's the Day of Light" Ravin explained. "It's a local holiday for the glory of Ziva."

"It's the most important celebration in Arvene," Lord Kedmon pulled his feet down and straightened in his chair. "People are already questioning my decisions. The Lensters are against me, just waiting for my tiniest mistake. I can't afford to cancel the festival."

"Kedmon, the celebration is going to lure the wraith," the hunter leaned over the desk and rested his fists on its top. "She will attack the town with a crowd of people around. I can't guarantee safety to the residents."

Lord Kedmon stood up, walked past Ravin and approached the window. He stopped by it and looked down at the main yard.

Standing in the middle of the room, Jules had quite a good view through the window as well, and now he saw the guards lifting the portcullis and opening the gate. A carriage rode into the yard, and as it stopped, the carter hurried to open its door. Two men got out - one young and one old - both clothed in white habits.

Jules grimaced at the sight of them. He stepped back, and pressed his hand against his blue eye, as his childhood fears came back, flushing over him. "Don't you ever let a priest see your eye," his mother had warned him. "Or else he'll kill you."

"My wife's invited a priest of the goddess. She wants him to pray at Rosalie's grave and to bless our unborn baby," Lord Kedmon didn't turn toward them as he spoke. He stepped back and opened the window; a gust of warm wind blew into the room. "If the celebration is going to lure the wraith, so be it. I refuse to live in fear. We'll be ready to take her down."

"Kedmon, you are not aware of her strength and power," Ravin told firmly and slowly, his eyes dark and his face tight. "I'm saying this as your friend. You're making a grave mistake."

The Lord turned around. He straightened his shoulders and raised his head with pride.

"And I'm saying this as your lord and employer. It's your job to provide me and my people security," He walked back to his desk and sat behind it. "You know where and when the wraith is going to attack, so prepare to kill her. Do your job."

"Don't tell me later that I didn't warn you," the hunter turned his back to the Lord and motioned at Jules. "We're leaving"

They walked in a heavy silence. Peeking at his master, Jules could see his eyes burning with cold anger, and he didn't dare to ask about the festival.

They went around the corner and almost collided with the priests. The older one, a bald man with a thin wrinkled face, stopped before the hunter. They exchanged long, unfriendly looks. His companion, a young ginger-haired man, stood with his hands folded and his head down, silent and humble. Jules watched them wordlessly - a man in black and a man in white, standing face to face and glaring at each other.

"So you haven't changed your path," the priest narrowed his eyes at the hunter, then turned toward Jules. "And you're leading an innocent child astray, I see."

"Stay away from my apprentice, Father Dillion," Ravin placed a hand on Jules' shoulder and pulled him closer. "Don't try to muddle him."

Jules looked up at the priest, and as the man saw his bi-colour eyes, he stepped back and made a warding gesture with his left hand. His companion mimicked it, muttering under his breath.

"He's long lost already," the priest spat with contempt. "I hardly believe Lord Harald let an impure under his roof."

"Mind your words," Ravin's voice grew threatening. "I'm not as understanding as my master."

The hunter's hand tightened on Jules' shoulder and he pulled the boy down the corridor, never looking back at the two men in white. Jules could barely keep up with him as he strode through the corridors until they reached their floor at the guest wing.

"What was that about?" Jules slowed down as soon as the hunter let go off his arm. "Do you know this man?"

"I know everybody here," Ravin responded. They left the staircase; when they turned into the corridor, they saw a hunchbacked man waiting by the door to their room.

"Everybody?" Jules repeated after him. "So, who's this?"

"The undertaker."

The man turned around at the sound of their footsteps. His face, long and skinny, twisted in a grin that looked like a grimace. His smile lacked several teeth.

"I came to see you, Master Blake," the undertaker bowed his head. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. "I finished the project of the gravestone you've ordered. Have a look."

He handed the paper over to the hunter, and Jules peeked at it from under his master's shoulder.

'Here lie in peace Ron, Edmund, Pete, Anne, Emma, Cecily, and Joan Acker' the inscription read. Jules gulped at the thought of the Ackers' children.

"I buried them by their mother, as you requested," the undertaker added. "The paper is the size of the stone I've chosen. Will you have enough place to draw the runes you mentioned?"

"It's more than enough," Ravin handed the project back. "Send for me once you have the inscription carved."

Jules hoped the runes would help to put the poor ghosts to rest. The Ackers' children hadn't stayed in this world on purpose. No, Jules guessed they had been too scared to leave. A proper burial and runes on their gravestone should help them.

The undertaker bowed again and walked down the corridor, limping slightly. Jules' eyes followed him until he went into the staircase.