The Return of Absent Souls (After The Rift Book 6)

by C. J. Archer

  Balthazar went to punch him again. It was only in that moment that I realized he held a small knife. He wasn’t punching Brant, he was stabbing him.

  He thrust the blade into Brant over and over again.

  Chapter 13

  Dane grabbed Balthazar’s wrist and snatched the knife off him. “I can’t let you,” Dane said.

  Max lowered Brant to the floor. Those nearest crowded around until Dane ordered them back.

  “Let Josie in!” Max shouted.

  “No,” Dane said. “She’s not doing medical work. I won’t let her risk her life to save his. Not even here among friends.”

  Brant’s lips moved, but his whispered words couldn’t be overheard above the servants’ chatter. He was covered in blood. It gushed out of his many wounds, and his face already showed the signs of a man near death. I bent to him and cradled his head.

  Dane crouched beside me. “No, Josie.”

  “It’s too late for medical help. No one can save him now.” I looked to Balthazar, his own face ashen. He shook violently. “Only the gem can.”

  Theodore assisted Balthazar to a chair. “Bal?”

  Balthazar shook his head.

  “Give him the gem!” My voice sounded harsh, unnatural.

  Balthazar shook his head again. “He cannot be trusted with even a single wish. He can combine two into one, like Leon.”

  “It’s murder.”

  “I have weighed up the options over several weeks, and this is the only way to secure the remaining wishes.” His gaze shifted to the barely conscious Brant. “I’m not sorry for my actions today, but I am sorry it had to be done at all. If you were a better man, someone who could be trusted, it wouldn’t have been necessary.”

  Brant made a gurgling sound in his throat. A weak cough brought up blood and his eyes fluttered closed. He expelled a breath and did not draw another.

  “He’s gone,” I said, laying his head back on the floor. I swiped at my tears, a little surprised that I could shed them for this man. But watching someone in their prime die an unnatural death would always be a difficult thing to witness.

  “Bal?” Theodore cried. “Bal, are you all right?”

  The crowd gasped. Some fell back, away from Balthazar. He shook uncontrollably, but he was no longer pale. The gem’s glow lit up his face. But it was the hand holding the gem that frightened the servants. It was a deep red color, not from the gem’s glow, but as if it came from inside him, like a light beneath the skin.

  Dane crouched before him and clasped his elbows. “Bal?”

  Balthazar simply stared at him, his eyes huge. “I can feel it.”

  “Put the gem down,” Dane said. “You look ill.”

  Balthazar blinked slowly. “I had to do it. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Josie?”

  I closed my eyes to shut out the image of Brant taking his last breath, silently appealing to me for help. I nodded, even though I was not convinced Balthazar’s actions had been right. But it was too late to change anything and he needed the reassurance. He was still here. Brant was not.

  “I understand,” I said going to him. “You inherited the wishes. But Dane’s right. You need to put down the gem.”

  “Not until I’ve wished.” He drew in a steadying breath and lifted his gaze to Dane’s.

  A hush fell over the garrison. It was as if they’d all become frozen in time, unmoving, not even seeming to breathe. Some clutched the hands of those next to them. Everyone stared at Balthazar, willing him to say the words.

  He opened his palm. The gem gently throbbed, as if willing him too. “I wish for our memories to return.”

  A bright red light exploded from the gem but petered out as quickly as it had flared. It continued to pulse on his palm like a living thing taking a breath.

  The gem may have quietened, but the room burst to life. Gasps and small cries filled the garrison. Some of the servants fell back as if they’d been pushed. They reached for chairs or each other to steady themselves. One or two burst into tears and a small number cheered. Outside, there were shouts of incredulity and joy.

  I felt out of place, as if I didn’t belong among them. The magic wasn’t for me. This moment wasn’t mine. It belonged to the servants.

  The initial excitement and relief quickly faded, replaced by several people talking at once. Others were noticeably quiet, however, mostly women but some men too. Some even fled from the garrison.

  The mixed reactions were not unexpected. Most were learning of their criminal past and remembering the awful things they must have done to earn themselves a prison sentence. I could only hope their time as palace servants would help them see they could be better, that they could be something other than a thief, a thug, or a whore.

  But even as I took in the reactions around me, there was one reaction that mattered more. Dane’s.

  He had been silent since getting his memory back. He’d gone quite still, as if moving would shatter the magic. He stared at the floor. I willed him to look up so I could see his eyes and determine how he felt. Unlike many of the servants, he already knew much of his past and his family, but he did not know himself.

  Until now.

  “Dane?” I asked softly.

  He suddenly looked up, as if hearing his name had woken him from a stupor. His eyes were huge. His face flushed.

  “Dane? Are you all right?”

  He closed the gap between us and clasped my face in his hands. His kiss was thorough and unrelenting, passionate and skillful. It was the kiss of a man who knew what he was doing, who’d kissed many times before. But it was the kiss of a man who loved and loved deeply.

  I raked my hands through his hair and pressed my body against his. He grinned against my mouth then finally pulled away.

  “Well?” I asked.

  I felt giddy with relief, even though I had told myself over and over that he loved me, and that getting his memory back wouldn’t change that. There had always been a doubt. It was only now that I could acknowledge it to myself.

  He stroked his thumbs over my cheeks and smiled gently. The haunted look I so often saw in his eyes had vanished, replaced with the spark of life. I couldn’t help smiling back. Although my heart was still raw with the knowledge we could not be together when he became king, I couldn’t set aside the joy I felt in seeing the real Dane for the first time.

  “There are so many things I want to tell you,” he said. “Some good, some bad. But for now, there are two things you must know. I attacked Carlos the guard in the prison mine with a hammer because he was cruel.” He drew in a breath and released it slowly, as if forcing himself to continue. “Laylana bore the brunt of his cruelty.”

  Poor Laylana. She would be remembering all of that now. I looked around for her friend, the footman, but he wasn’t in the garrison. The number of servants had begun to thin. Those remaining spoke in low voices.

  Dane stroked my cheek again and I met his gaze once more. “The other thing I want you to know is that I love you, Josie. There is no one else. I have never felt this way about any other.”

  I nodded rather stupidly, unable to speak.

  “My betrothal to Laylana was just an arrangement between our families. We both went along with it willingly but only because we thought it in our best interests.” The corner of his mouth lifted, a shadow of a smile. “I didn’t believe in love, so I didn’t much care whom I married.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Events have since proven me wrong.”

  “Oh,” I managed to whisper.

  His smile widened, and he kissed me again. I sank into his body, hoping this moment would last but knowing it would not. It could not.

  Someone cleared their throat and we broke apart. Laylana’s footman friend stood there looking stricken. “Something’s wrong with Laylana,” he said. “Her memory hasn’t returned.”

  “How is that possible?” Dane asked.

  We all looked to Balthazar. “The magic didn’t tell me it
was excluding her,” he said. “But I don’t know how to control it. I don’t think I can control it—or question it.” He heaved himself to his feet and pointed the end of his walking stick at the internal door. “I want to see her.”

  His unsteady pace seemed to get faster the closer we got to Laylana’s room. The footman led the way with Dane bringing up the rear. We left the others behind in the garrison, too busy with their own chatter to notice us leave.

  The footman knocked and Laylana bade us enter. She smiled and pointed at Dane. “You’re going to be the king.” She frowned at me then scanned the pictures pinned to the walls around her bed. There were dozens of sketched faces drawn by a skillful hand. I wanted to ask the footman if he’d been an artist before he went to the prison mine, but now was not the time. My heart felt hollow. Laylana clearly hadn’t got her memory back.

  “Josie,” she said triumphantly. “And Balthazar, the master of the palace. According to my notes, you’ve been traveling and discovered we were betrothed.” She pointed at Dane. “But you are in love with Josie, and I am not in love with you.”

  She smiled and held her hand out to the footman. He took it and sat on the bed beside her. He smiled too, but it was troubled. He silently appealed to Balthazar for answers. Balthazar offered none.

  “Now what’s this is about my memory returning?” Laylana asked.

  “I asked her if she could remember everything,” the footman told us. “She says she doesn’t.”

  “I know I’ve lost my memory, as have all the other servants.” Laylana glanced from Dane to Balthazar and back again. She frowned. “Are you telling me you’ve all got yours back?”

  “No, no.” Balthazar shuffled forward and sat on the bed too. “Just some. The magic didn’t work as well as we thought. I am sorry that you are not among them, Laylana, but you are not alone. Others share your plight.”

  “Not quite the same as me.” She fingered the fringe of a blanket.

  The footman put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “You’re not alone, Laylana. I’m here with you. Always.”

  She leaned into him and smiled wanly. “I may not know much, but I do know that. Did you get your memory back?”

  He nodded.

  “And you are not betrothed or…or married?”

  He shook his head. “I will be soon, if you’ll have me.”

  She grinned and nodded quickly.

  Balthazar, Dane and I left them alone, closing the door behind us. “Why did the magic not work on her?” Dane asked.

  Balthazar sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “Perhaps she’s too traumatized by what happened to her in the prison,” I said. “The mind has been known to work tricks after enduring a harrowing event. My father had a patient who could still feel his arm after it was severed in an accident. He said his phantom arm felt cold in winter, or would itch like mad even though it was no longer there. Perhaps this is Laylana’s mind’s way of coping with what happened to her in prison.”

  “Should she see a doctor?” Dane asked.

  “She could try, but he won’t believe in magic.”

  “Leave her be,” Balthazar said. “Perhaps remembering is not a blessing in her instance.”

  I took Balthazar’s arm. “It was kind of you to let her think she wasn’t the only one who didn’t get their memory back.”

  He looked down at my hand on his arm. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me for Brant?”

  “I understand why you did it.”

  “But have you forgiven me?”

  I hesitated then said, “Yes, Bal. I forgive you.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth, either. I was still conflicted; shocked, even. The taking of a life went against everything I’d been raised to believe. Yet, if there was no other way, if it was done for the greater good or to prevent something worse from happening… Perhaps, in time, I would see the sense in it. For now, I would hide my troubled thoughts from Balthazar.

  At least I would try. He was watching me intently, and I had the distinct impression he could read my mind. “What happens now?” I asked as a means of distraction. “A meeting?”

  Balthazar nodded. “We’ll gather everyone in the commons.”

  “After the meeting, we’ll have a celebration,” Dane said. “I’ll notify the cook that we’ll need as much food as possible. And ale.”

  Balthazar stopped and rounded on Dane. “What about the noble guests? Who will serve them?”

  “They’ll have dinner brought to them as usual. After that, their own private staff will have to suffice. The palace servants are enjoying the night off.”

  Balthazar grunted and started walking again. “I was expecting an arrogant prince-in-waiting who distanced himself from the rest of us now that you have your memory back. Glad to see I was mistaken.”

  “You’re not. I was like that, before the prison mine. But a lot has happened since then. I changed.”

  “Your mother won’t like it.”

  Dane’s smile didn’t waver. “Not in the least.”

  As much as I wanted to speak to Dane privately, I knew it would have to wait. Besides, I wanted to celebrate with the servants too.

  My mood dropped dramatically when we returned to the garrison and I spotted Brant’s body wrapped in a blanket. I suspected Theodore had seen to it. He was one of the few left in the garrison, along with Quentin and Erik. Most of the other servants had dispersed.

  “Max has gone to the village to see Meg,” Quentin said in answer to Dane’s question.

  Dane indicated the body. “Help me get him out of here. We’ll take him to the prison cells and bury him tomorrow.”

  “I remember him in the mine,” Quentin said, watching on as Erik and Dane carried Brant out between them. “He was a bit of an arse, and I didn’t like him, but he wasn’t all bad. He took a beating for me, once.”

  “As did Dane,” Theodore said. “More than once. Erik too, and Max, and a few others. All of them are palace guards now. They protected some of us from the prison guards who thought cruelty was a sport.”

  Quentin sat and dragged his hand through his unruly hair. For the usually jovial lad, he’d suddenly become quite serious. “I remember it all now. The beatings, the starvation, thirst and fear, the hard work, day and night.”

  “It was unrelenting,” Theodore bit off. “Leon was right when he said he saved us. If not for his wish, we would all be dead by now, even the strongest.”

  It was a sobering thought, knowing the lives of so many had been saved by a greedy, selfish man. I made a silent promise to remember him more fondly in future.

  Balthazar poured ale at the sideboard and handed a cup to Quentin. “The sorcerer turned our protectors into palace guards and made Dane the captain. That is not a coincidence. That was based on who they were, on their nature. Dane was a natural leader. He led by example. Everyone looked to him for how to act, what to say, or for protection.”

  “Brant respected him,” Theodore went on. “Dane was the only one Brant respected.”

  “That’s because Dane beat him up and put him in his place,” Quentin said with a half-smile. “Brant was a turd when he first arrived in the mine. He wanted to be the toughest, the one we all feared. But he didn’t count on Dane. After that confrontation, he always did as Dane asked, or Hammer, as we knew him then.”

  Theodore accepted a second cup from Balthazar. “You were good with numbers and being organized, Bal. That’s why you were made master of the palace. I was fastidious and good with fabric and clothing, so I was made valet.”

  “Were you a draper?” Quentin asked.

  “A tailor to the royal family of Dreen.”

  Quentin looked impressed. “That’s a highly skilled profession. You must have been well regarded to work for royalty.”

  Theodore grunted. “Not enough to save me from being thrown into a Freedland prison mine for loving the wrong person.”

  “How can you be arrested for that?”

  “My lover
was the justice minister’s son.”

  Quentin’s cheeks pinked. “Merdu, Theo. Why’d you risk your life for that?”

  Balthazar smacked Quentin’s leg with his walking stick and scowled at him. Quentin shrugged and mouthed, “What?”

  But Theodore didn’t seem as upset by the question as I expected him to be. He simply sighed into his cup. “I did it because I was in love, and I thought he was in love with me and would protect me if we were found out. Apparently he wasn’t as in love with me as I thought. His father gave him an ultimatum. Either quietly stand by while I was arrested and removed from the country, or lose his allowance. He chose his allowance.”

  “Turd,” Quentin said. “You’re better off without him. Right, Josie?”

  I rubbed Theodore’s shoulder. “You’re better off staying here,” I said. “Don’t go back to Dreen. Besides, Dane will need you when he becomes king. If it was left to him, he’d only wear black.” I frowned. “Or perhaps that’ll change, now that he remembers clothing can be worn in other colors.”

  Quentin chuckled. “You’re going to need a maid too, Josie.”

  “Don’t, Quentin. Dane’s marrying Illiriya, and that’s final.” I put up my hand when he protested, but it was the return of Dane and Erik that stopped him.

  “Tell us about you,” Theodore said to Quentin. “Why were you arrested? You never told us when we were all in the prison mine together.”

  “Aye, who did you annoy?” Erik asked.

  “My father,” Quentin said.

  “What did he do to you?” Dane asked.

  “It’s not what he did to me, it’s what I did to him. I hit him over the head with an iron rod. He didn’t die, if that’s what you’re thinking. He survived. But I wanted to kill him in that moment.”

  I pulled up a chair and sat beside him. I touched his knee. “What happened?”

  “He’s a blacksmith in Logios in Dreen. He wanted me to be something more than him, so when I showed early promise with learning, he pushed me to join the college of engineers. But I hated it. I didn’t study so I failed and was thrown out. My father got real angry and started hitting me. He just kept punching and kicking me, calling me a disappointment, over and over. Ever since my mother died, he drank most nights, and when he was drunk, he turned violent. That day, he hit me until I fell. I landed near the furnace, grabbed an iron bar he’d been about to work on, and smashed it into his head.”