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

by C. J. Archer

“It is rather a lot of work for you on top of the councilor’s duties,” Kitty said sympathetically.

  “Not for that reason. Since all of my guests are here, they’re going to need a week to recover.”

  I laughed. Like Meg, I expected it to be rather a long day and night. The palace kitchen had been preparing for weeks. I’d instructed the cook not to make anything elaborate, as there were a lot of mouths to feed. There’d been a great deal of running about for the rest of the staff this last week, too. Servants seemed to not have time to stop and talk to me. None would tell me what Balthazar had planned.

  He’d been directing proceedings from his bed, despite my protests. He claimed he’d left the preparations up to Theodore, but considering Theodore spent most of his waking hours working on my wedding gown and the dresses of my attendants, I suspected Balthazar was lying to appease me.

  A band struck up a merry tune in the distance and Kitty clapped her hands. “That’s the signal. It’s time!”

  Meg peered out the window and gasped. I went to look too, but was ordered to stop by Theodore and my three attendants.

  “It must be a surprise or Balthazar will murder us,” Miranda said. “Well,” she added as she admired my gown. “Are you ready to dazzle Dane?”

  Meg snickered. “He was dazzled a long time ago.”

  It was quite a way from the queen’s chambers down to the gardens, particularly at the slow pace Theodore forced us to walk. When the doors leading outside opened, I gasped at the sight in front of me. The grand terrace leading out to the gardens was filled with villagers and servants. They cheered upon seeing me, and I was clapped and congratulated as I traversed through the crowd.

  Garlands of leaves and flowers marked out the path’s edges and white perfumed petals covered the paving stones. The flowers were not in season, yet the head gardener had managed to keep them alive in his orangery glasshouse. Balthazar must have used every last one. Exotic lemon, orange and oleander trees in pots had also been positioned at intervals along the path and down the steps leading to the main fountain. The sun came out at that moment and rainbows formed in the fountain spray.

  “That’s an auspicious sign,” Kitty whispered.

  “Poppycock,” Miranda whispered back. “It’s a trick of the light. But I will admit it’s quite beautiful.”

  We rounded the fountain and headed towards Dane and his groomsmen. Theodore strode ahead of us so he could stand beside Balthazar, seated in a chair to Dane’s left. On Dane’s right stood Erik, Quentin, and Max, all looking handsome in their crimson guards’ uniforms.

  Dane stood tall between them. I considered myself slightly biased, but he was the most handsome of the men, in his captain’s uniform. Nobody had told him he couldn’t wear it now that he was no longer the captain of the guards, and I was glad of it. He looked very fine, and the gold braiding at the shoulder matched that on my gown’s bodice. I took in the details of his uniform, of the flowered arch he stood beneath, and the local Mullian priest waiting patiently to the side.

  But it was Dane’s face I wanted to commit to memory. I never wanted to forget this day, or the way he looked at me. He seemed slightly bemused, somewhat over-awed, but most assuredly loving.

  Then he smiled, and it was dazzling.

  The wedding day turned into the wedding night with music, dancing, and feasting. The air turned cold, but Balthazar had organized fire pits to be brought out to keep everyone warm. When I stood on the palace terrace and looked back towards Lake Grand, the gardens were ablaze with light.

  “You did a wonderful job, Bal,” I said, taking his hand. “But I hope you didn’t over-exert yourself.”

  “I haven’t lifted more than my finger,” he said.

  “You lifted your finger to point at me on many occasion,” Quentin grumbled. “He had me running all over the palace issuing directions.”

  “Not just you,” Erik said. He put his arm around my waist. “Can I kiss the bride? Is that custom here?”

  “Only on the cheek,” Dane said.

  Erik pouted. “Pity. In the Margin, men can kiss her on the mouth.”

  “You’re making that up,” Max said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

  Erik grinned and looked around. “I must go. I see maids over there who need me.”

  “They’re ladies, not maids,” Theodore called after him.

  He waved off Theodore’s concern and kept walking.

  “Should we be worried about him?” Meg asked.

  “He never persists where he’s not wanted,” I said, watching the four noblewomen smile as he joined them. By the looks of things, he would be welcomed in precisely the way he liked.

  “You should retire, Bal,” Theodore said with a worried frown.

  “I will.” Balthazar looked towards Lake Grand. “Soon.”

  Yelena joined us, with Martha stopping a few steps away. Dane beckoned her over and put his arm around her shoulders. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Oh, yes,” the maid said, smiling. “It’s wonderful. The music is perfect, the dancing and food…it’s all so wonderful.”

  “Make sure you try the confectionary. The cooks have worked hard all week.”

  “I will. Thank you, Dane, and congratulations to you both.”

  Dane addressed Yelena. “Are you warm enough, Mother?”

  She adjusted the fur-lined cloak around her shoulders. It was too big for her, and I suspected it had been taken from Leon’s wardrobe along with the jewels adorning her neck. Theodore frowned as he studied her up and down with a calculating eye.

  Yelena took Dane’s hand between her gloved ones. “I wanted to wait until the ceremony was over to tell you both that I’m leaving.”

  “Leaving?” Dane echoed.

  “I’m returning to Freedland. Martha will come with me.”

  Dane frowned at Martha. “Why?”

  Martha lowered her head.

  “Because it’s our home,” Yelena said. “We don’t belong here with these people.” She waved a hand that encompassed me and the crowd beyond.

  “Does this have something to do with my decision to turn Glancia into a republic?”

  “No-o.” Her hesitation was telling. “I will admit that I feel deeply hurt by some of your decisions, but that’s not why I want to go. I want to be home for… I just want to go home.”

  She meant she wanted to die there. I had warned Dane mere days ago that I suspected Yelena was dying. He hadn’t said anything at the time and not brought it up since.

  I eyed him carefully, but his only reaction was to hug her. When they parted, they were both dry-eyed.

  “I’m sure she will seek you out tomorrow,” Yelena went on, “but I ought to tell you that Laylana is returning with us, and her new beau, too. I don’t envy her informing her brother that she intends to marry a footman, but that’s her decision, and I’ve learned I have no sway in how others live their lives.”

  Dane stiffened. “I’m sorry if my decisions hurt you. That was not my intention.”

  She nodded. With an adjustment of the cloak, she headed inside.

  Martha went to follow her, but Dane caught her elbow. He waited until Yelena had disappeared from sight before he enveloped Martha in a hug that was longer and warmer than the one he’d given his mother. When they parted, both had tears in their eyes.

  “Take care of her for me,” he said.

  She gave him a wobbly smile and a nod.

  “And take care of yourself too,” he added. “I hope to see you back here one day.”

  “You will always be welcome,” I told her.

  She hugged him again then hugged me. “I couldn’t have wished for anyone better for him,” she said. “You won’t let him get away with anything.”

  I laughed. “I’ll do my best to keep him out of trouble.”

  She hurried off to catch up to her mistress, just as Erik rejoined us along with Quentin, Meg
and Max.

  “Ready?” Balthazar said.

  “For what?” Dane and I both asked.

  “You’ll see, Mistress Lockhart,” Quentin said with a grin.

  “It’s Lady Lockhart,” Max chided.

  Quentin saluted. “Right. I forgot. Lord and Lady Lockhart.” He pulled a face. “It sounds weird.”

  “I know,” Dane muttered.

  I hooked my arm through his. “We’ll get used to it together.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He kissed me lightly then tapped Balthazar on the shoulder. “When’s this surprise of yours happening? I have important business to attend to in our chambers.”

  “Patience never was your strong suit,” Balthazar said. “It’s about to begin. Watch the lake.”

  They all looked at the lake, but Dane studied me. “I happen to think I’ve been very patient this evening.”

  The loud explosion cracked through the night air. Screams erupted from the crowd, but they quickly turned to squeals of delight as fireworks crackled. Tiny stars of light lit up the darkness above the lake. Another firework went off, followed by another and another, dispatched from barges on the water.

  “Oh look, Dane,” I said on a breath. “They form a love heart.”

  He stood behind me and circled me in his arms. He lightly nipped my ear. “Seems appropriate.”

  “Magical,” I murmured as more fireworks brightened the sky to sounds of awe from the onlookers.

  “It ain’t magic,” Quentin said. “It’s just a little explosive powder, a fuse—”

  Max smacked his arm.

  Quentin rubbed it but was distracted by another firework, this one climbing higher in the sky than the others before exploding into a thousand golden stars. As the stars rained into the lake, a flaming arrow shot from the shoreline arced through air. It struck something in the dark in the middle of the lake. The flames quickly spread to reveal the entwined letters of J and D. The initials appeared to be floating on the lake surface, with no barge in sight. The guests gasped in delight.

  “I take it back,” Quentin murmured. “That is magical.” He turned to Balthazar, his eyes wide. “Are you the sorcerer?”

  Balthazar chuckled. “If I were, I’d have given myself a stronger body a long time ago.”

  Quentin watched the fireworks fade away. “But if you are, can you make me taller?”

  Erik clapped him on the shoulder. “You are a very handsome young man. All you need is confidence. Like me.” He tapped his chest. “Come, I will show you how to get any woman you desire.” He dragged Quentin off by the elbow.

  “Erik, I already have a woman.”

  “Aye, but I will show you how to get another, and another. Why stop at just one?”

  Max drew Meg to his side. “I can think of an excellent reason,” he told her.

  She grinned and threw her arms around him.

  Dane tugged me away from them, towards the palace doors. “Thanks for the surprise, Bal,” he called back. “But my patience has worn out.”

  Balthazar dismissed us with a wave then signaled for Theodore to help him inside.

  Dane and I got as far as the entrance foyer where he scooped me up. “Come with me, Lady Lockhart. I’ve got my own surprise to show you.”

  I gave him an arched look as we headed up the stairs. “I’ve seen it, Dane. It’s hardly a surprise.”

  He grinned. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Patience, my lady.”

  He carried me all the way to the king’s apartments, which we’d decided to make our home for the next two years. He opened door after door without setting me down until we reached the door to a room that I’d never been in.

  Indeed, I didn’t even know the panel in the wall was a door until he opened it. The room on the other side was hardly big enough to be called such. It was more of a nook with a window overlooking the celebrations in the formal gardens below. A cushioned window seat looked inviting, but wasn’t the most wonderful thing about the room. That honor went to the books nestled into shelves set into all the walls.

  I gasped as Dane set me down, and went to inspect the spines. “These are medical texts,” I said.

  “Your father’s books,” he said. “I retrieved them from your cottage. Doctor Ashmole didn’t mind, but his wife scowled at me the entire time. Although I’ve never seen her not scowling, so perhaps it’s the way her face settles.”

  “There must be hundreds! Far more than my father ever owned.”

  “I spoke to the high priest before he returned to Tilting and asked him to send back anything he could find that looked remotely medical from the high temple’s library. He owed us that.” He gazed around the room. “It seems he felt guilty.”

  “Very.” I circled my arms around Dane’s neck. “Thank you, Husband. This is already my favorite room.”

  He beamed. “Good. Now let me take you to my favorite room.” He scooped me up again and carried me to the bedchamber.

  THE END

  Have you read the historical fantasy

  THE LAST NECROMANCER

  by C.J. Archer?

  Charlie is being hunted for her dark magic, but only one man succeeds in capturing her. A man known as Death, as compelling as he is frightening.

  Read on for an excerpt.

  THE LAST NECROMANCER

  (An Excerpt)

  About THE LAST NECROMANCER

  For five years, Charlotte (Charlie) Holloway has lived as a boy in the slums. But when one theft too many gets her arrested, her only means of escape lies with a dead man. Charlie hasn’t raised a spirit since she first discovered she could do so five years ago. That time, her father banished her. This time, she brings even more trouble upon herself.

  People are now hunting Charlie all over London, but only one man succeeds in capturing her.

  Lincoln Fitzroy is the mysterious head of a secret organization on the trail of a madman who needs a necromancer to control his newly “made” creatures. There was only one known necromancer in the world – Charlotte – but now there appears to be two. Lincoln captures the willful Charlie in the hopes the boy will lead him to Charlotte. But what happens when he discovers the boy is in fact the young woman he’s been searching for all along? And will she agree to work for the man who held her against her will, and for an organization she doesn’t trust?

  Because Lincoln and his ministry might be just as dangerous as the madman they’re hunting.

  CHAPTER 1

  London, summer 1889

  The other prisoners eyed me as if I were a piece of tender meat. I was someone new to distract them from their boredom, and small enough that I couldn't stop one—let alone four—from doing what they wanted. It was only a matter of who would be the first to enjoy me.

  "He's mine." The prisoner's tongue darted out through his tangled beard and licked what I supposed were lips, hidden beneath all that wiry black hair. "Come here, boy."

  I shuffled away from him but instead of the brick wall of the cell, I smacked into a soft body. "Looks like he wants me, Dobby. Don't ye, lad?" Large hands clamped around my arms, and thick fingers dug into my flesh through my jacket and shirt. The man spun me round and I gaped up at the brute grinning toothlessly at me. My heart rose and dove, rose and dove, and cold sweat trickled down my spine. He was massive. He wore no jacket or waistcoat, only a shirt stained with blood, sweat and grime. The top buttons had popped open, most likely from the strain of containing his enormous chest, and a thatch of gray hair sprouted through the gap and crept up to his neck rolls. Hot, foul breath assaulted my nostrils.

  I tried to turn my face away but he grasped my jaw. The wrenching motion caused my hair to slide off my forehead and eyes, revealing more of my face than I had in a long time. A new fear spread through me, as sickening as the man I faced. Only two prisoners seemed interested in a boy, but if they realized I was a girl, the others would likely want me too.

  "Anyone ever tell you you're too pretty
for a boy?" My tormentor chuckled, but he didn't seem like he'd discovered my secret. "Pretty boys can get themselves into trouble."

  Girls even more so. It was just my ill luck to get caught stealing an apple from the costermonger's cart outside the cemetery and wind up in the overcrowded holding cell at Highgate Police Station. The irony wasn't lost on me, but it wasn't in the least amusing. As an eighteen year-old girl, I should be separated from the men, but I'd been passing myself off as a thirteen year-old boy for so long it hadn't even occurred to me to tell the policemen. With my half-starved body, and mop of hair covering most of my face, nobody had questioned my gender or age.

  The big brute jerked me forward, slamming me against his body. My nose smacked into a particularly filthy patch of his shirt and I gagged at the combined stenches of sweat, vomit, excrement and gin. I wasn't too clean myself, but this fellow's odor was overpowering. Bile burned my throat but I swallowed it quickly. Showing weakness would only make it worse for me. I knew that from experience.

  "Come here and keep old Badger warm."

  Warm? It was summer, and the cell was hotter than a furnace with four adult men and myself crammed into a space designed for one.

  "I'm next," said the bearded Dobby, closing in to get a better look at me.

  "If there's anything left of him after old Badger's broken him in." Badger chuckled again and fumbled with the front of his trousers.

  I closed my hands into fists and clamped down on my fear. Shouting for the constable wouldn't help. He'd told the other prisoners to "Enjoy," when he'd tossed me into the cell. It had only been a few minutes since he'd walked off, whistling. It felt like hours. I had to fight now. It was the only way left. Not that I stood a chance against the men, but they might beat me unconscious, with any luck. It was best not to be awake while they took their liberties.

  I swung my fist, but Badger was faster than he looked. He caught my wrist and sneered. "That ain't going to help you." The sneer vanished and he shoved me into the wall.