Morningstar, you are welcome.

Good evening, Grandmother, who have you brought with you this peaceful night?

Oh, there is no peace to be had in these terrible times! The living have lost their wits and the dead cannot rest.

We must all do what we can to help one another.

Use the Elixir!

Who said that?

I am astonished to see a shadowy shape form on the grass in front of me. The earlier clouds have drifted away and a fair moon allows me to see that the figure is that of a young man. It is most unusual for a spirit to actually show themselves outside of the chamber, and without being formally called or summoned. I feel a chill enter my body as I realize he is wearing the uniform of a British soldier from the present. As he takes a step closer I gasp, for the slanting moonbeams fall upon his youthful face to reveal he is missing an eye and half his jaw has been blasted away. The wound is horribly fresh. Wet mud glistens upon congealing blood. I fight to keep my reaction hidden.

What is your name, soldier?

Alfie. Alfie James.

I am truly sorry to see you so terribly hurt, Alfie.

Mortar landed in our dugout. Everyone died. Every one of us broken and ruined.

You asked about the Elixir …

There’s so much talk of it … down there. Among the dead.

What … what do the spirits say about it?

Some say as you should use it. You could, if you wanted to, couldn’t you? Use it to bring us back. To give us another chance.

Yes, Morningstar! You can help us.

The cries and entreaties multiply until I cannot think for the cacophony. I throw my hands over my ears instinctively, even though I know I do not need them to hear the sounds the deceased make.

Stop! Please stop. You do not understand. The Elixir cannot be used in such a way …

Why not?

Are you afraid?

Is it because of what happened to your brother?

Freddie! Is Freddie among you?

He won’t come. He doesn’t want to talk to you.

But you will help us, won’t you? Please? Please, Daughter of the Night.

I can’t! It … wouldn’t work. You don’t understand. It wouldn’t be right.

Is it right that I died at seventeen?

Oh, Alfie, I am so sorry.

You used it to try and save your own brother. Who’s to say you shouldn’t use it for us, too?