The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

Ansel surreptitiously wiped his mouth. “Am not!”

  “You know, just because you’re not the biggest fish in the pond anymore, doesn’t mean you can’t train with them,” Mara said, hoping he would take her suggestion. Ansel was still leery of traveling with the group. Admittedly, so was she. Beating each other with swords seemed like the perfect way for them to bond a little before they left.

  He feigned a groan but stood and started to warm up. Ansel picked up his sword and flowed through his stances with an ease that only comes through years of dedication and training. A byproduct of his Gift, she decided, for which she was eternally grateful. Without his rabid focus and obsessive determination to teach her, she would still be poor, crippled Mara. Quite literally. The first time she’d held a sword, she’d almost cut off her own head. She giggled at the memory. Ansel’s face had turned pure white, like he had dunked his head in Mr. Fitz’s flour bin. That’s when he demoted her to wooden training weapons only.

  Mara abandoned her efforts and moved closer to the action for a better view. She could always finish later, after all. Mikkal bowed out and Ansel stepped up to face Steel with an eager grin and nervous hands. After losing to Geoff at the Harvest Festival, Ansel must want to prove himself.

  They circled the hall, sidestepping the rock and debris that littered the floor. Apparently getting a feel for each other, they tracked their opponent with steady eyes. Ansel lunged first, a test blow, which Steel parried easily. Ansel feigned to the left, then lunged right, swiping low at Steel’s legs. Steel twirled out of the way, his cloak fanning out behind him. He jumped onto a boulder, using the added height to his advantage. He rained down blows onto Ansel, who backpedaled out of reach. Ansel circled around the back for a better angle.

  “Are you even trying? I thought you were an Armis.” Not even breathing hard, he smiled like he was having the time of his life. His sword cut through the air in a graceful arc, turning it just before contact so the flat of the sword glanced off Ansel’s shoulder. Mara winced. That would leave a bruise tomorrow. Ansel gritted his teeth and dodged another blow, refusing to give up.

  When Steel let his guard down, Ansel tucked his shoulder and barreled straight into him. They fell to the floor with an audible thud in an ungraceful tangle of limbs and testosterone.

  If Steel was a cat and Mikkal was a bear, then Ansel was a wolf, tenacious and opportunistic to the last.

  Surprise flashed across Steel’s face, as though he couldn’t believe Ansel had gotten the better of him. He smirked and said, “Well done. That almost tickled.”

  Grinning, Ansel leapt to his feet and offered him a hand up. “You’re pretty good, yourself. Sure you’re not an Armis?”

  “What you see is no Gift, I’m afraid. It’s the result of Mikkal’s unrelenting sadism,” Steel said. Mara looked over at Mikkal, who smirked as he lifted his sword in a lazy salute. Mara could almost see the wheel’s turning in her friend’s head. If Steel had become this proficient without a Gift, maybe Mikkal could help Ansel train, too?

  Steel continued, “After years of being beaten, I decided something—I don’t like to lose. It was either learn, and learn quickly, or go to bed every night with bruises.” Steel clasped Ansel on the back. “You’re not too bad for a backwoods villager. In fact . . .”

  A loud rumbling cut off what he was about to say. Mara stood up, exchanging perplexed looks with the others. The season wasn’t ripe for a thunderstorm. “What was that?” She was about to write it off as an anomaly when Wynn and Tova burst into the hall, breathless.

  “We got problems!” Wynn shouted, scrambling to gather her gear.

  A second rumble, louder still, shook the castle, causing the thick layer of dust to puff up around them in clouds. Mara ran to the door and peered through the thick grooves running through its decrepit surface. A row of gray-robed men and women stepped out from the tree line, arms stretched out before them.

  She cursed under her breath. “It’s the Order!” Mara turned in panic and raced toward the pile of supplies. She crammed as much as she could into the empty packs, lamenting all the gear they would have to abandon. She tossed one to Ansel, then shouldered her own. “We need to get out of here, now!”

  A third quake hit, causing the front of the hall to collapse with the groans of a dying man. Steel dove into her, shoving her out of the way before she was crushed by falling rock. A stone the size of a small pumpkin glanced off her ankle, sending shooting pain up her leg.

  “Fantastic. We’re trapped now!” Wynn hissed, glaring at Mara as though she’d caused the collapse in the first place. “Was that yer plan?”

  Ansel stormed over, his face inches from Wynn’s. “Use that thick head of yours. The front door was never an option. We would have been captured in seconds. So, don’t blame Mara for something that isn’t her fault!”

  “Did anyone discover a secondary exit during their explorations, yesterday?” Steel asked calmly as he helped Mara stand.

  Mikkal walked over to her other side, offering his arm for her to lean on. She winced as pain tore through her ankle. How was she supposed to walk, let alone run? “You should just go . . . I’ll only hold you back.”

  “Great idea!” Wynn said, looking more than happy to leave her behind.

  Mara flinched as Tova stepped out from the shadows. The tiny girl had blended in so well, it was easy to forget she was there. “A door in the kitchens leads to a servant’s exit. The tunnel seems to go on for miles,” she whispered.

  “It likely doubled as an escape route for the royal family in the event of an attack, much like this one,” Steel said. “Many castles have provisions for emergencies.”

  Mara frowned. If that was the case, why didn’t the royal family use the tunnel to escape when King Edric attacked? It didn’t make sense.

  “Jolly fascinating, love. Why don’t ya talk later, ya know, before we’re caught and killed!” Wynn snapped, pushing them to follow after Tova.

  Mara held onto Mikkal’s arm, hobbling as fast as she could. A fourth tremor shook the castle’s foundations, threatening to bring the castle down on their heads. Ansel dodged to the left to avoid being entombed under the falling rock. They moved faster, desperate to escape the ruins.

  “In here!” Tova cried, diving around the corner. She disappeared inside a narrow doorway and the rest of the group followed on her heels, eager to escape the Order’s attack.

  The tunnel was bathed in darkness so thick Mara couldn’t see a foot in front of her. It was the perfect setting for her worst nightmares and, in that moment, the years of ghost stories told by drunken men came back to haunt her. Their footsteps echoed as they left the crumbling castle. Mara’s skin prickled, and goosebumps crawled up her arms. She half-expected a restless specter to appear at every turn. Her breath thickened as she inhaled the dank, musty air.

  Mikkal handed her off to Ansel and moved in front of the group. She leaned into her friend, taking the weight off her injured ankle. If they were caught because of her . . .

  “Can we risk a light?” Ansel asked, his voice squeaking. Mara squinted over at him, wondering if he would need a fresh pair of trousers now. The rustling of a pack was his only answer as Mikkal retrieved and struck a torch. Flames illuminated the earthen passage, sending rats and cockroaches scurrying for cover. Roots descended through the ceiling like wizened fingers, reaching desperately to snag their next victim.

  “I preferred the darkness, actually,” Mara said, her widening eyes locked on a skeleton that leaned against the far wall, its flesh rotted away long ago. It wore a tattered uniform and a sword was lodged between his ribs.

  “Anything of use?” Ansel asked.

  Mikkal knelt next to the skeleton, pulling the sword free. He tested the edge with a swipe, smiling as a few drops of blood beaded on his finger. Setting it aside, he searched through the uniform’s pockets with quick fingers. He pulled out a small purse and tossed it to Steel with a triumphant grin.

  He opened the purse and Mara gasped at the glin
t of gold. “I suppose that would depend on whether or not we can spend ancient coins?” Steel asked.

  “Hey, gold is gold,” Ansel replied.

  It was more money than she had ever seen in her entire life and she bounced with excitement. With this, they could afford to replace the supplies they had left behind. Maybe even buy horses! Riding would cut their journey in half, easily. The one-month trip on foot would only take two weeks on horseback. Then again, she had never ridden a horse before. But how hard could it be?

  They trudged down the tunnel, taking frequent breaks. Mara gritted her teeth, hating that she was the weak link. She could sense frustration leaking from the others, even if they didn’t say anything. As time went on, her trepidation grew. Tova hadn’t been lying about the distance. How long would it take the disciples to realize they weren’t in the Keep? When they searched the wreckage and found no bodies, they would find the tunnel. It was only a matter of time. The walls closed in around them, pressing her to move faster, despite the pain.

  Finally, after what felt like hours, Mara caught a flash of light up ahead. She limped forward, eager to be free of this cursed tunnel. But as the first rays bathed her face, she froze.

  They had been funneled into a trap.

  Two disciples slipped into her peripheral vision, hands outstretched, and brows furrowed in concentration. The tunnel collapsed behind them with a resounding boom, cutting off their retreat. In the distance, the rhythmic sound of bodies crashing through the trees spoke of a large number of reinforcements heading their way. Far more than they could handle, even with Steel and Mikkal fighting at their side.

  Mara panicked. Power flooded her veins, flowing effortlessly through her body. On instinct, she whipped her hands outward, aiming one at each disciple. Power burst from her palms, throwing them backwards through the trees. Their heads hit the trunks with an audible crack.

  She blinked and stared down at her hands in shock.

  The group gaped at her, fear and disbelief plastered on their faces. Mara took an involuntary step back at Wynn’s murderous expression.

  “Ya thought ya could lie to us, eh girly?”

  “No, I swear. I was never Gifted. I . . . I don’t know what happened.” She caught a glimpse of gray robes approaching through the dense forest. “Uh, Wynn? You can kill me later. Run!”

  Steel scooped her up in his strong arms and took off in the opposite direction. Mara dug her fingernails into his shoulders, hoping he wouldn’t drop her. She wished she could run on her own two feet. This? Well, Ansel would never stop teasing her about being a damsel in distress for as long as she lived. Which, judging by the number of pursuers, wasn’t going to be long.

  Unlike the forest that surrounded Stonehollow, which was open and inviting, the woods here were thick and wild. The underbrush was choked with a diverse array of plant matter that made fleeing almost impossible. It was, however, perfect for hiding. If she hadn’t been looking, she would have missed the overgrown thicket of late raspberries and vines.

  Steel set her on the ground and she dove inside, pressing as far back as the biting thorns would allow. He squeezed in after her, followed by Ansel and the others. Mikkal twisted the vines so they would cover the entryway, effectively camouflaging their presence.

  Several minutes went by before she dared to look up. Steel regarded her with cool speculation, running a finger over his lips. Even Ansel watched with wide eyes, apparently speechless for the first time in his life. She felt like an animal in a traveling novelty show, cowering behind bars while children gawked and poked her with sticks. She shifted awkwardly, then peeked at Wynn. If looks could kill, Mara would be dead several times over. The scarred woman played with her dagger and her stormy eyes promised retribution.

  Mara’s saving grace was the fact that they needed to stay hidden. But she knew that once the Order moved on, they would ask questions. Questions for which she had no answers.

  She thought back to her last moments in Stonehollow. The power she felt was identical to the power that burned through her body after Tobias’s murder. But this time, if felt stronger. More defined. What was happening to her? Was it possible that, despite being a dreg, she could develop an ability of her own? It shouldn’t be possible, and yet . . .

  What was it, exactly? Mara had caused a bonfire to explode, but she couldn’t manipulate fire, which ruled out being an Ignis. She’d thrown two full-grown men through the air with nothing but her mind. Whatever this was, she had never heard of before.

  They stilled as the sound of voices approached. Boots crunched on the dried plant matter that coated the forest floor. Mara held her breath, imagining that it would help to avoid detection.

  “Did you see what she did?”

  “They could have warned us we were after an Impriga.”

  “Cadmus is going to be furious. And Ethan let her escape?”

  “They’ll have his head for this.”

  “You haven’t heard? They already sent him back to Headquarters with his tail between his legs. Good riddance, if you ask me. He was always causing trouble.”

  “Causing trouble is putting it mildly.”

  “Bet you five bits he’ll be scrubbing chamber pots for a month.”

  “You’re on. I think it’ll be two months.”

  “Okay, this way is clear. Let’s go tell the others. The fugitives must have headed back south.”

  The voices faded and as soon as the disciples were gone, Wynn pounced.

  Mara found herself flat on her back with briars and thorns cutting into her skin. The scars on Wynn’s face were pulled taut, making her already menacing face look downright lethal. She heard the soft sound of metal leaving its sheath before feeling the telltale prick of a dagger at her neck. Again.

  Mara sighed and rolled her eyes. Wynn needed to get more creative with her death threats because this was getting old. “Look, I already told you. I’m a dreg. Do we need to go through this charade again?”

  Wynn pressed her dagger in harder and Mara gulped. Maybe antagonizing the woman holding the blade wasn’t the smartest idea. Ansel cried in protest and the sound of a scuffle filled her ears. Mara wished she could see what was happening, but her eyes remained locked on Wynn. “I know what ya told us. Lies. I know what I saw.”

  “I didn’t lie, I swear. If you let me sit up, I promise I’ll tell you everything I know, okay?”

  “Hmm, perhaps it would be prudent to acquiesce to the lady’s wishes,” Steel said in a velvety voice.

  Wynn sat back, eyes narrowed, as though she would humor them, but didn’t expect to change her mind. Mara rubbed at her neck and looked at Ansel, who was caught in a headlock. At her pointed glance, Mikkal released him, looking downright sheepish.

  Mara drew a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start. The beginning would have to do, she decided. “Okay, so you already know that Ansel and I are from Stonehollow. On my Naming Day, the Magi arrived at my parent’s house as planned, but something went wrong. They told me that everything was normal, but something the Magi saw in his visions made him leave without Gifting me. I grew up alone, with the exception of Ansel and another dreg, Tobias. He was the gentlest person I’ve ever met, and I loved him dearly. The village kids would torment and abuse him, and the Magi did nothing to stop it.”

  “The Magi hated me. So, I kept my head down and stayed out of his way. Then one day,” she said, rubbing her shoulder, “there was an accident. A bunch of kids were playing tag and they let me join in. I never got to play, and it was the most fun I’d ever had. I should have known it wouldn’t last. I tripped and fell onto another girl, Oona, and she dislocated her shoulder. They dragged me before the Magi in the town square. As punishment, he stabbed me through the shoulder with his silver dagger. That’s the day I realized what it means to be a dreg.”

  She looked up at their makeshift ceiling, fighting back tears as the memories flooded in. Tobias giving her the first carving, a bear, when she was five. Then comforting her when she was s
even, after she was beaten for disrespecting an elder. Cleaning her shoulder after being stabbed. And as the years passed, when he slowly lost his autonomy, Mara became his caregiver. He didn’t deserve to die that way. He deserved better, and she only hoped he knew how much she loved him in the end.

  Ansel reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Mara wiped her eyes, composing herself. “About a month ago, the old Magi died. Everything changed when the new Magi arrived. He was charming and friendly and would seek out my company frequently.” At the sound of their gasps, Mara held up her hands. “Umm, not like that. Gross. No, it was more like he was trying to be my friend. I should have known that was a trick. I should have seen him for what he really was before it was too late. Tobias, the other dreg, was arrested for murder and sentenced to die. I may have lost control a bit…”

  Ansel snorted. “Lost control? You tried to kill the Magi.”

  “Well, yes, obviously.”

  Wynn smirked appreciatively, sizing her up, as though seeing Mara for the first time.

  Mara gave her a tentative smile in return. “That was the first time I used my powers. At the execution, when the knife pierced Tobias’s heart, it was like something snapped inside me.”

  “She made the bonfire explode. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Ansel said, finishing the story.

  Steel tilted his head. “So, you were able to control the fire?”

  “At the time, I thought so.”

  “Can you do it again?”

  She shook her head. “No, not a spark. And it wouldn’t explain how I was able to launch those disciples.”

  Steel’s eyes lit up with excitement. He opened his mouth to say something, but Wynn cut him off. “So, ya expect us to believe ya were a dreg, but ya still got magic?”

  Mara shrugged. “I don’t really care if you believe me or not. I know what happened.”

  “So, what’s the plan?” Ansel asked, wrapping his arms around her. Mara snuggled into his chest, grateful for his friendship and support. She wouldn’t have made it this far without him.