Jules crawled to the crushed night pearls and frantically felt the ground between dry leaves. But the pearls were nothing but grains now - golden and glowing, like stardust. He held it in his hands until its light died.

He stood up slowly. The forest swayed before his eyes and he rubbed his throbbing head. He yelped when his fingers met the broken skin on his temple. He looked at his fingers. They were covered in blood.

"Rosalie!" he turned around. "Rosalie, please!"

He climbed the hill and knelt by the cave's mouth. The Circle of Annihilation shone with reddish light, each line and each rune cut like a wound in the stony ground. But it was not enough. It was too weak to harm the wraith.

He scrambled to his feet and stepped into the cave. Inside, the wraith roared, the men fought and their swords clashed - all this sounds vibrated between the walls and made Jules' heart pound.

He had to warn them. Maybe they could escape. But then, the wraith would break free again and wreak havoc in the fief, killing and devouring human blood and flesh, growing stronger and more powerful, becoming unstoppable.

Jules looked over his shoulder at the glowing circle and walked back. He knelt at the ground, brought his palms together as if to pray and took a deep but uneven breath.

"In the name of the Mother of Light, the Highest Goddess Ziva, I call forth the ghosts of the ones who lived and died before me," he chanted in a shaking voice. The air whirled around him, sparkling in magic. It tingled against his skin. "Come to my aid! I call on Ron Acker, raise from the underworld and find your way to my side!"

The cold wind lashed his back, whipped through his clothes and tore at his hair. A little boy, four or five-year-old, appeared at his right, his misty body thickening as the ghost stared at him with a puzzled expression.

"I call on Edmund Acker, I call on Pete Acker, rise from the underworld!" Jules chanted, and two taller figured started to materialize by the smaller one. He opened his mouth, but then something flew into his throat. A fly? He coughed. "I call on Anne Acker, I call on Emma Acker!" his voice grew louder and clearer. His perception shrunk to the circle and the ghosts he summoned. "Raise from the underworld! I call on Cecily Acker and Joan Acker, raise from the underworld! I call on Rosalie Arver! Raise from the underworld and find your way to my side!!!"

He stopped, breathless, and looked around and the ghostly children surrounding him - little boys and girls in ragged clothes. The eldest of them couldn't be more than ten or so years old. And Rosalie, a teenage girl in a white dress, stood between them, embracing them with her arms. Jules breathed with relieve - after she had left, drained of energy, he wasn't sure if he could call her back.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," Jules stood up slowly. His magic was drained, leaving his body weak and shaking. "But we cannot destroy the monster that took your lives without your help. Please. Help me or it won't stop killing!"

The children looked up at Rosalie, and she nodded with a gentle smile.

"They'll do it," her misty body slowly thickened. Her empty eyes locked with Jules. "But you remember about the promise you gave me. Save my brother!"

Jules bit at his lower lip, looked into the darkness of the cave. Only now did he realise he gave two promises - one to Rosalie and one to his master - and that if he kept one, he had to break the other.

"You've sworn," Rosalie reminded. "Go!"

He nodded. You should never give promises to ghosts - Ravin had been right about it - but it was too late to drop out.

His legs shook when he headed further and further into the cave, feeling his way like a blind man. The darkness wasn't disturbed by the smallest fragment of light, and the corridor snaked endlessly. The reverberating sounds of battle echoed through the passage, making it impossible to guess how far away the conflict was. When the wraith was roaring, the amplified noise shook the ground, and the boy wondered if the cave's ceiling would collapse.

He moved his hand along the wall covered with grooves and cracks, wet and slithery. He didn't see his own fingers, and he only hoped the corridor didn't branch off. The stink of rottenness choked him, unbearable in the stale air.

"Circle it!" Ravin's voice burst clear from the melee of mingled shouts. A glow came from behind the bend, "Press it to the wall!"

The wraith roared as in response. Jules heard another human voice, starting as a yell, but ending with a muffled sigh. Then something hit the wall so close he felt the air buffet him. The corridor veered. He went out of the corner and tripped on something warm and heavy. He glanced down - it was a body with its chest ripped open. The man's eyes caught his just a second before they emptied, and the boy knew he would never forget them.

The cave was wide and high, lit by the torches scattered along the walls. Between the lumps of rocks, the few warriors tried to back the beast into a corner. The rest of them lay on the ground, wounded or dead.

The wraith stood between them - as tall as two men, a human-like creature with leshy's antlers growing out her forehead and striga out of her back. She tensed her muscles before she attacked. She darted forward in speed too quick for a human being and swung her claws at a guard.

Ravin ducked under her arm and pierced her side with his reila, but she only roared and kicked his chest. As soon as the blade slid out of her body, her torn flesh grew together.

Jules scanned the cave, his eyes searching for the little boy, but Michael was nowhere to be seen. Jules ground his teeth and jumped above the dead body. The nearest rock was a few meters before him, by the wall. He ran to it and ducked behind it. The wraith roared again.

He heard a broken yell and flatted himself against the boulder. Peeking above it he saw a man being thrown across the cave. When he hit the opposite wall, the monster was just finishing a spin. Its long claws ploughed the chest of a guard who didn't duck in time. He fell to his knees and collapsed on the ground face-down.

The rest of the warriors stepped back. One of them bolted, shrieking like a madman.

"Fight, you cowards!" Lord Kedmon raised his sword and took a swing at the escaping man, "I'll hang any man that runs!"

The wraith threw her hands at him, and her claws would have torn his throat if Ravin hadn't pushed him away. The hunter's eyes sparkled gold and the dark runes on his arms seemed to writhe on his skin as if alive. The wraith spun again, but the hunter swung his reila in one, precise move. While everyone else retreated, he ran forward. His eyes flashed, his blade sparkled– and the clawed hand fell on the ground, severed from the body with one, clean cut.

The creature barked madly - Jules sensed the anger and hatred radiating from her. He jumped from behind the rock and ran along the wall towards another boulder, praying that the wraith wouldn't notice him.

Hidden again, he looked around. A weak move caught his attention – he hadn't noticed it before and when it stopped stirring, it looked like a pile of stones. But when he strained his eyes, it turned into a small child curled up at the back of the cave.

"Michael," his lips barely moved as he whispered the boy's name. He searched for the best way to get to the toddler, but there was no rock to use as a cover. His options were either to run the distance hoping Ravin and the Lord would keep the monster occupied, or give up.

His throat was so dry it hurt. He licked his lips, squatting behind the boulder. But was there a decision to make? He had sworn to Rosalie that he would save her little brother. And he knew if he went back on his word, he would have to live with it for the rest of his days. He searched for the badge hanging under his tunic and clenched his fists on it. 'Till the last breath,' it read.

Now Jules finally understood its meaning.

He took a deep breath, then he scrambled up and dashed to the boy. He fell to his knees by his side and took him in his arms. Michael was limp but warm. Unconscious, but still alive. Jules breathed with relief. He could still fulfill the promise he'd made.

Pressing the toddler to his chest, he stood up. Once he lifted his head he met the wraith red, hateful eyes. And then something sparkled behind the monster. A sword, raised by the Lord, shined in the light of the torches.

"No!" Ravin swung his reila to block the Lord's blade, but it was too late.

The sword fell on the wraith's neck. Jules heard a crack of breaking bones and the monster's head hit the ground. The body stood still for second or two, spouting with black blood before it collapsed.

"You fool!" the hunter whipped the sword from the Lord's hand, "I told you not to -," he stopped short when a coil of dark smoke started seeping through the wraith's corpse.

Jules turned on his heels and darted toward the tunnel, holding Michael in his arms. A wave of terror overwhelmed him. Melissa's dark spirit was free and he couldn't hide from it.

He stormed into the corridor. When he went round the bend, the absolute darkness surrounded him. He heard a bang from behind. The short glow lit the tunnel for a split of second before it blew out. Moving one hand along the wall, he stumbled, with the weight of the limp toddler pressed against his chest. Maybe if he reached the circle... If he went past it, the spirit wouldn't be able to follow him out of the cave. It was his only choice, his only chance.

The freezing wind chased him – he felt its gust on his neck. And when he finally saw the burning circle, it smashed at his back. The coldness pierced through his flesh and bones and made his blood freeze. He halted, digging his feet in the ground.

His body turned around against his will. He tried to fight the strange power driving him into motion, but there was a lump of ice growing around his heart as if trying to slow its beating.

"I said you'd regret it if you didn't leave me alone," he heard Melissa's silky, cruel voice inside his head. He felt his free hand reaching to the hunting knife by his belt, "Now it's time I kept my word."