The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

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The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus Page 6

by Bethany Hoeflich


  Four charged him at once. She held her breath, gripping a handful of the scratchy hay as a Farber aimed his weapon at Ansel’s legs. Ansel jumped over the sword and kicked it away. He twisted, knocking another sword to the ground with an audible crack.

  The Irrigo stepped forward, hovering a ball of water in his hands. Mara jumped up on the bales for a better view. She had never seen an Irrigo use their Gift as a weapon before. He punished Ansel with nonstop jets of water. Ansel rolled to the rack of weapons and grabbed a shield, using it to block the attack. His feet slid back in the dirt as the water pushed against the shield. With a groan, he ducked between two Farbers and knocked the Irrigo on his back.

  She watched with wide eyes as he defeated his challengers one by one. Minutes later, only the Saxum remained. Ansel stood back, expression guarded, waiting for his opponent to make the first move. The crowd had risen to a frenzy, screaming his name. The ground shook below his feet and Ansel jumped, narrowly avoiding falling into a pit. The Saxum flicked his wrist, sending apple-sized rocks flying towards him. Mara winced as they thudded against the shield. Ansel ducked and dodged, weaving across the arena as though he’d drunk too much cider. With a roar, he tucked his shoulder and barreled into the Saxum.

  The crowd erupted into applause. Ansel gave a deep bow, then raised his arms above his head in celebration. Mara put two fingers in her mouth and whistled.

  Ethan leaned over. “He hasn’t been trained properly?”

  “No, he hasn’t found a master to teach him.”

  He nodded, as though her words weren’t a surprise, and called out, “Geoff!”

  The Armis was by their side in moments. “Yes, sir?”

  Ethan rubbed his lower lip. “What did you think of Ansel’s . . . demonstration?”

  “He’s a bit green. His technique is rough, and he leaves his sides exposed,” Geoff replied. “With some work, he could be passable.”

  “Indeed. I believe he might benefit from your instruction.”

  “Yes, sir.” Geoff vaulted into the ring and sauntered over to where Ansel stood. “Not bad, kid. Let’s see how you do against a real Armis.”

  Ansel bristled, appearing to shed his fatigue as easily as he had shed his tunic. “I am a real Armis.”

  “Are you?” Geoff smirked, holding his arm to the side and flexing his fingers. From thin air, a curved blade appeared in his outstretched hand. Mara blinked. The crowd’s awed gasps were the only indication that no, she hadn’t lost her mind.

  Ansel’s jaw dropped. “How did you do that?”

  “I’m more surprised that you can’t. At Order Headquarters, an Armis can manifest his weapon before his fifth birthday.” He turned his sword so it reflected the midday light. “Shall we?”

  Ansel swallowed and traded his wooden sword for live steel.

  Mara watched with her heart in her throat, chewing on her nails. “You knew about this?” She asked Ethan.

  “Of course.”

  “He could be killed!”

  He raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. “Do you have so little faith in your friend’s abilities?”

  “That’s not the point. How is he supposed to compete against a crazy magic sword?”

  As if to punctuate her words, Geoff ducked an overhead blow and sliced Ansel across the cheek. He grimaced and retreated a few steps, waiting for an opening. With a vicious kick, Geoff sent Ansel flying backwards. Mara could hear the breath whooshing from his lungs as he hit the ground.

  She covered her mouth to stifle a scream. Was he okay?

  Geoff strode over to where Ansel had landed, offering a hand to help him to his feet.

  Ansel grinned, dusting off his backside. “That was incredible! How did you do that?”

  “Like I said, an Armis should be able to manifest his weapon by the time they’re . . .” Geoff paused, frowning. “What was that?”

  Mara looked over her shoulder. Behind her, the crowd parted with a chorus of gasps and screams, allowing a pair of disciples through. They dragged an unconscious man between them, dropping him unceremoniously at the Magi’s feet. His head sagged listlessly, and his dirty, matted hair covered his face. His clothes and skin were splattered with blood. If it weren’t for the faint rise and fall of his chest, Mara would believe him dead. Her stomach dropped when she realized who it was.

  The man was none other than Tobias.

  5

  “What is the meaning of this?” Ethan demanded, holding a hand up to silence the crowd.

  Fighting tears, Mara knelt down next to Tobias and placed a shaking hand on his clammy forehead. What happened to him? She brushed his hair back from his face to reveal two black, swollen eyes and a split lip. Mara used the corner of her tunic to dab the blood. She threw an accusing glare at the disciples and demanded, “Who did this to him?” If Thomas had hurt him again, she would beat him within an inch of his life and accept the consequences with a grin on her face.

  The disciple ignored her and addressed Ethan. “A body was found,” he said, prompting a chorus of gasps from the spectators.

  “Who?”

  “Thomas, sir.”

  Wait . . . Thomas was dead? She looked at Tobias, her brows creasing.

  “Is it certain that this man is the culprit?”

  The disciple nodded and nudged Tobias in the side. “We have witnesses.”

  It didn’t make sense. Tobias was the gentlest person she knew. Why would he kill someone? She stood and faced Ethan, pleading. “Please, he would never do this. You don’t know him like I do.” She held her breath, hoping that he would do the right thing.

  He sighed, running a hand across his face. He projected his voice above the noise. “Lock him away. We will hold a trial after the Festival and hear the witnesses.”

  No! If this went to trial, the elders would convict him for sure. Her only hope was to reason with him. To persuade him that Tobias was innocent. Ethan had promised that he was different from the other Magi. If he had any shred of decency, he would let him go.

  The disciples shuffled their feet, looking baffled. “Sir? What do you mean hold a trial? He’s guilty. Shouldn’t you carry out the sentence now?” A few people in the surrounding crowd murmured their assent.

  “Are you questioning my authority?” Ethan said, rising to his full height. “Need I remind you that the Order appointed me as Magi for this region?”

  The disciple lowered his head. “No, sir.”

  Mara stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. “You might not know this, but Thomas and his little gang tormented Tobias for months.”

  “Now is not the time, Mara. Elder John just lost his child.” His jaw clenched, and he motioned to the disciples to take Tobias away. “You will have your chance to speak at the trial.”

  Undeterred, she planted herself in front of him, hands on her hips. “He’s been abused and neglected for years. Are you really going to convict a man who is innocent? Who might have acted in self-defense? Where is your compassion, Ethan?”

  He stilled, and his eyes narrowed to slits. “You will address me as, Magi.” He leaned in, voice growing deathly quiet. “Unless you wish to be arrested as well, I suggest you find something productive to do with your time. Understood?”

  Mara cowered under his intense glare, staring awkwardly at his chin. She nodded. Was Tobias being framed for a crime he didn’t commit? Or, like a cornered animal, had he finally struck back? Something didn’t add up here. His little whittling knife wouldn’t be enough to kill a full-grown boy. Not even one as soft as Thomas.

  The Magi barked orders for the crowd to disperse. As they withdrew, he turned to her. “I promise, I will conduct a thorough investigation.”

  Well, she was going to conduct her own investigation. If there was a way to prove he had been provoked, she would find it. She would turn over every rock and leaf in Stonehollow until she had the evidence she needed to free Tobias.

  ***

  Except for the blood, Tobias’s home looke
d exactly as she’d left it. The light of the day had begun to recede, casting his dilapidated hut in soft golden beams. Mara had spent the previous hours interrogating witnesses, or at least trying to. Most refused to speak with her at all. Coming here was a last-ditch effort to find something useful. Anything useful.

  Mara stepped inside, holding her breath as long as possible. Why was there blood inside the hut? Had Thomas gone inside? Her eyes tightened at the state of his house. One of the walls was crumbling and multiple holes perforated the ceiling. She had promised to repair them weeks ago, but never seemed to find the time. She swallowed a pang of guilt, vowing she would make the repairs as soon as he was set free. And then she would make sure no one would hurt him again.

  A cursory glance yielded no information, other than the usual filth. She rooted through his meager belongings, growing desperate as time went on. Nothing. Where was the weapon? The Magi wouldn’t release Tobias on her word alone. He would demand concrete proof of innocence, if it even mattered. Proof, she thought bitterly, didn’t matter much when it came to dregs. She rubbed her shoulder absentmindedly, thinking back to the day she learned that harsh lesson.

  On the pile of blankets and rags he called a bed lay a half-carved stag. Mara’s eyes burned. Would he ever get to finish it? She registered a figure standing behind her and violently wiped away her tears. Ethan, now wearing his sparkling white robes, ducked inside the hut, frowning at the poverty displayed before him, and his nose wrinkled at the stench. Good. He deserved a hefty dose of reality before condemning an innocent man to death.

  “Why are you here?” Mara challenged. She crossed her arms and stared at the far wall, refusing to meet his eyes. He could have stopped this.

  “I was looking for you,” he said, stepping around the piles of dirt and waste. “Would you mind stepping outside?”

  “Why? Afraid you’ll get your robes dirty?”

  He didn’t respond, instead watching her silently with those dark, hateful eyes. She threw her arms up and stomped out of the hut. “Happy now?” He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she jerked away. “Don’t . . .”

  “Mara, I . . .”

  “No. You know what? Life with the old Magi was awful, but at least I knew where I stood. Stay out of sight, out of the way, and I wouldn’t get hurt. With you? I’ve never been more confused.”

  “What is confusing, exactly?”

  “For starters, one minute you’re all ‘call me Ethan’ and the next, you reprimand me in front of the village. What am I supposed to think? No,” she said, holding up a hand to stop him from speaking. “Don’t interrupt me. Despite knowing that Tobias would never murder anyone, you arrest him? What am I supposed to think?”

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your friend.”

  She wanted to punch that pitying look off his beautiful face. “Save it! You’re talking like he’s been condemned already. So much for a fair trial, huh?” Her hands itched toward the dagger on her thigh before settling on her hips. No, she wasn’t that stupid. She’d end up in the cage with Tobias.

  The Magi’s lips tightened, and he took a step towards her. “I’m merely trying to prepare you. No matter how you spin it, his outcome looks bleak.”

  “Forget it,” she snapped and stormed away, ignoring his protests.

  This was hopeless. Mara started to walk home, wanting nothing more than to lock herself in her room until it was all over. Even if she had evidence, which she didn’t, it wouldn’t make a difference. Her breath caught in her throat. She stopped, glancing over her shoulder towards the town square. She was being selfish. Out of everyone in Stonehollow, she was the only one who would speak of his behalf. No, Tobias needed her. What sort of friend would she be if she stood around and watched him die? She changed course and headed straight for the stone platform.

  Ansel stood at the back of the growing audience. She slipped in next to him, looking around for signs of his betrothed. Thankfully, Oona was nowhere to be seen. “Are they starting soon?” she asked, standing on her tiptoes to peer above the sea of heads.

  A two-sectioned cage sat in the center of the stage. It was a scant four feet high, barely high enough for a crouch. Tobias was shackled to the bars, cringing away from the abundant taunts and jeers. He didn’t deserve this. Her stomach soured, and her breath came in short pants. She would free him, no matter what.

  Ansel shook his head. “No, the Magi made an announcement that they didn’t have all the information yet. Then he walked off. You know, the old Magi would have killed him already.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m serious. He wouldn’t have bothered gathering evidence and you know it.”

  After what felt like hours waiting, the crowd hushed as the Magi and elders walked on the stage. The Magi stepped forward, palms outstretched. The last of the anxious chatter silenced as Ethan’s voice carried above the crowd. “Today is a sad day for us all. What had promised to be a jovial celebration turned to tragedy when the son of a respected elder lost his life. Rest assured that justice will be met. We are here to present the evidence, call witnesses and deliver a verdict.” He motioned to the edge of the stage where a line of people stood waiting.

  The first to be called was Byron, who stood pale faced and red-eyed, stuttering through his account. According to him, he and Thomas had been walking past Tobias’s hut on their way to the Festival. Thomas had been running late due to a potential suitor and he wanted to look his best. Out of nowhere, Tobias had attacked him, tearing his finest set of trousers. In retaliation, Thomas had backhanded Tobias, who then pulled a dagger and stabbed him.

  Mara gritted her teeth. Thomas lived on the opposite side of Stonehollow from Tobias. Unless he had a terrible sense of direction, it wasn’t likely that he had ended up near Tobias by accident. The crowd ate up this steaming pile of horse excrement and asked for seconds. She seethed.

  The next witness was Mrs. Carry. According to her, her dumb cat had run off again. While she was searching for Mr. Wiggins, she had heard screaming and decided to investigate. She raced over just in time to watch Tobias stab Thomas. Mara rolled her eyes. In her nineteen years of life, Mara had never seen Mrs. Carry race anywhere, save for that one time she had been chased by a swarm of wasps. The older woman ended her testimony with more than a few scathing remarks about how dregs were no more than vicious animals who should be eliminated. The crowd shouted their agreement and Mara cringed. Her hope to change public opinion was fading fast.

  Finally, Oona sauntered onto the stage, holding the weapon in question. Cleaned of blood, it sparkled in the fading sunlight. Oona stated that she had been hunting with Zeke and she lost her dagger. Conveniently, she couldn’t find it when she searched later. With a triumphant smirk, she stated that Tobias must have found it and stashed it away for his own nefarious purposes. She then questioned the wisdom in allowing dregs to have weapons at all, staring at Mara the entire time.

  Mara’s fists clenched. She was seconds away from launching herself onto the stage and wiping that idiotic grin off her face. She didn’t care if it would only prove their arguments; the satisfaction would almost be worth it. Ansel reached over and caught her wrist in a firm grip.

  The Magi dismissed Oona and stepped forward to address the audience. “If anyone would speak on behalf of the accused, they may step forward now.” His eyes found hers, daring her to speak up.

  No one moved. Not that she actually expected anyone to do so, but to her surprise, Ansel stepped forward. The crowd parted before him as he made his way to the stage. The Magi’s eyebrows rose, and whispers broke out among the spectators.

  Ansel stood confidently, head raised. “I cannot vouch for what happened today, but only for Tobias’s character. Tobias has always been a quiet, peaceful man who keeps to himself and carves beautiful trinkets. In fact, many of your children play with toys he has made. I find it unlikely that such a gentle person could commit such an atrocity. That being said, elder John,” he said, turning to nod
to the elder in question, “I am very sorry for your loss.”

  Mara’s heart burst with gratitude for her friend. It meant everything that he would speak out on behalf of Tobias. Before the Magi could end the proceedings, she rushed forward to the stage, shoving people out of her way, determined to testify.

  “Watch it, dreg!”

  “No more than an animal!”

  “Lock her up, too!”

  She dodged a few well-placed kicks and scrambled up the stairs. Unlike with Ansel, who held the respect of the community, they jeered at her. She shouted to be heard over the deafening roar. “Dregs are not to be feared! Thomas abused Tobias for years!”

  “Thomas was a good boy!” Someone in the crowd yelled back.

  “Can’t trust a dreg to tell the truth!”

  The noise rose to a feverous pitch and her shoulders sagged. Eyes watering, she turned to Ethan and pleaded, “Please. Please do the right thing. I beg you.”

  “It’s not up to me.” He stared back, his face a blank mask, though his eyes tightened at the corners. She blinked, slipping off the stage and to the side. No way was she walking back through that hostile throng of bodies.

  The Magi held up a hand. “The elders will deliberate and return with a decision shortly.”

  Mara felt a gentle hand grip hers and looked into her mother’s face. Sarai pulled her into a tight embrace, stroking the back of her head. Mara closed her eyes, sending a prayer to the gods or anyone who might listen. She chewed her nails to the quick.

  Ten minutes later, the elders and the Magi walked back onto the platform. Ten minutes. Such a short amount of time to decide a man’s fate. And judging by the satisfied looks on their faces, Mara could guess the outcome.

  “The Order finds the dreg, Tobias . . .” the Magi began, scanning the sea of enthralled faces. “Guilty. The execution will be held at dawn. For now, please return to your homes.”

  Mara pushed against the retreating crowd, determined to speak with Ethan. If he didn’t listen to reason, well, dawn was hours away. She could still get Tobias out in time, provided she could dodge the disciples guarding the cage.

 

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