The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  Mara swallowed, her throat thick with emotion. “You did it . . . you actually did it.”

  Ansel wrapped her in a hug, pulling her close. “Come on. Let’s put this wretched country behind us.”

  21

  The frigid wind stung Mara’s eyes and ripped at her tunic. The cold wormed its way beneath her clothing and stole away all her warmth. Mara struggled to breathe the thin air, making tiny white puffs each time she exhaled. Just shuffling her feet through the deep snow drifts took a staggering effort.

  Flat tundra spanned for miles in every direction. Snow and ice coated every surface, painting Tregydar with lethal, crystalline beauty. It was a sight better viewed through a window as she snuggled by the fire with a cup of hot cider, rather than wading knee-deep in the blasted stuff.

  Mara’s stomach clenched in pain. Their food had run out days ago, and hunting took too much energy to be worth it. A nap would make everything better. She would just lay down in the fluffy white pillows and rest her eyes a bit, then she’d be fine.

  “Come on, Mara, you need to keep moving,” Ansel said. At least she thought it was Ansel. Everything was so fuzzy, like she was under a pile of blankets. Icy blankets. Why wouldn’t he let her sleep?

  “Lemme . . . shleep . . .”

  “Just a bit further, love. Then ya can sleep.”

  Mara’s teeth chattered, ruining what she was going to say. She wanted to apologize for dragging them into this gods forsaken land. For everything. There was no dreg haven. She’d wasted their lives chasing a fairy tale.

  “Her lips are blue,” Wynn said from lips equally as blue. Her nose and the tip of her remaining ear glowed a vicious red.

  “F-f-f-ire?” Mara stuttered. Ansel waded over, wrapping an arm around her. Whether it was to share his body heat or steal hers, she wasn’t certain. Whatever his reasons, she was grateful.

  Steel frowned at their surroundings. “A fire would call to any disciples for miles.”

  “I’d take a quick death over a slow one, Steel,” Wynn shot back. “If we don’t warm up soon…”

  As Ansel and Mikkal scavenged for firewood, Mara packed the snow down to form a shelter from the biting wind. Wynn and Steel shook out their packs, pulling out every blanket they owned. Ansel returned and piled the wood high, and within minutes, it roared with blissful heat. As the group huddled together under the blankets, Mikkal slipped away, seeming oblivious to the frost coating his beard and eyebrows.

  Mara leaned into the fire, almost to the point of burning. Slowly, her limbs thawed and her previously numb feet throbbed in pain.

  “If ya get any closer, you’ll catch fire.”

  Mara snorted, snuggling with the scarred woman. “You know, the thought of burning alive would have scared me once. Now, I’m too cold to care.”

  Wynn packed snow into their water skeins and held them up by the fire to melt. She handed one to Mara, who drank the entire skein dry in several gulps. The melted snow might have sated her thirst, but it did nothing to ease the hunger pangs wracking her stomach. They desperately needed food soon. If her hands hadn’t been shaking so much, she might have shot something. Anything. Snow, most likely.

  Should they turn back? Wandering aimlessly in a frozen wasteland wasn’t the smartest option, but the thought of failing tasted bitter. She supposed they could head to Merrowhaven and live in the dreg camp outside of the capital. Or as a last resort, go home to Stonehollow and hope that the pardon still applied. Judging by the hunter’s words, that wasn’t probable. All that waited for them was a swift execution.

  Mikkal slipped into the firelight, holding a hare in his hands.

  “Mikkal, you are officially my favorite person on the continent.” Mara jumped up and planted a kiss on his scratchy cheek. His face flamed, and he ducked his head, but not before she caught sight of his faint, dimpled smile.

  He and Ansel set to work, skinning and dressing the rabbit. As it cooked, fat sizzling as it dripped into the flames, the air filled with the tantalizing smell of roasting meat.

  Mara elbowed Ansel playfully in the side. “Remember the night I killed that nice, fat rabbit outside of Stonehollow? I thought you’d put out the fire with all your drooling.”

  “Very funny, Mara.”

  She smiled faintly, looking around at her friends. “If it weren’t for that fire, we might never have met you all.”

  Wynn stirred the coals around with a stick. “Lucky us, eh?”

  Mara swallowed, her throat thick with emotion. “I’m sorry for dragging you here.”

  “Hey, don’t talk like that. We’ll find someone. Your father said there was a safe haven, right? Well, Tregydar is a big country, so we’ll just have to do a little searching, that’s all,” Ansel said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

  Before long, they divided the rabbit. Contented sounds of eating soon replaced conversation, not that she was complaining. The meat didn’t fully satisfy her hunger, but it managed to drive away her pessimism for the time being. Ansel was right. If they kept looking, they were bound to find someone.

  Mara scanned the horizon, freezing when she saw a dark shape moving towards their fire. She stood slowly, reaching for her bow. Her fingers burned in protest, and she wondered if she would be able to use the weapon at all. The others followed suit, drawing their swords and dirks, eying the figure as it approached. By their height and build, she guessed that it was a man.

  He was clad head to toe in black, with a thick fur cloak. Even his face was covered, except for his eyes, which shined with an icy blue frost. He stood casually, as though their weapons were of no serious concern.

  “Welcome to Tregydar. If you would follow me, my elder wishes to meet you very much.”

  Steel stepped forward, making no effort to lower his sword. “And why should we go with you?”

  “Excellent question. First, because you will otherwise die of the cold. And second, because you need help that we can provide. Unless you’d prefer to be a frozen snack for the wolves?”

  As if to punctuate the stranger’s question, a piercing howl crept over the land and set her hairs on end.

  “Who is this elder and how did he know we were coming?” Mara asked, her eyes narrowing. It was too big of a coincidence and she smelled a trap.

  “She knows many things about you, Mara. And the rest of you, Ansel, Steel, Wynn and Mikkal.”

  “I . . . We didn’t tell you our names.”

  “And yet I knew them all the same. Imagine that. My name is Halder. So, are you coming?” He turned and walked off without looking back, as though he didn’t care if they would follow or not. Or maybe he was just confident that they would go with him.

  Something clicked in her mind. She whispered, “Does he seem familiar?”

  Steel examined the stranger with fresh eyes. “Not that I can recall, no.”

  “Look closer. A stranger dressed head to toe in black. Kearar?” she said, throwing her blanket into her pack.

  “Could it really be the same man?” Ansel said.

  “Think about it. He buys us in Kearar, then sets us free. He heard our conversation in the back of the cage, so he knew we would be heading to Tregydar eventually. I bet he got here a week ago and told this elder person to expect us.”

  “If that’s the case, why didn’t he just bring us here himself?”

  Mara frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe driving a cage full of people hundreds of miles through populated areas would be a little conspicuous. Slavery is illegal in most countries, after all.”

  “Fair point. Well, I suppose we’ll have to ask him about it,” Steel said, helping Mikkal dump snow on the fire.

  “So, we’re going to follow him?”

  “Seems like our best option.”

  ***

  An hour later, they watched, fascinated, as Halder disappeared beneath the snow. Mara crept forward, cautious that there was a hidden trap waiting to swallow them whole.

  “Where did he go?” she asked, preparing herself to
see a mangled body at the bottom of an icy pit

  Ansel raced ahead. “Check this out!”

  What had been impossible to see at a distance became clear as they grew closer. It was a giant tent-like structure, set into the ground. The roof was covered in a deep layer of snow to mimic the surroundings, expertly camouflaged with the terrain. They never would have spotted it without a guide. Mikkal stepped in front of the group, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “This is genius,” Steel said, sauntering forward. “It’s absolutely incredible.”

  Halder popped back into view, peeking over the snow at them. “Are you coming in? I promise it’s a lot warmer inside.”

  The tent opened into a spacious room, easily three hundred feet long. A series of tables and benches sat at the one end. The other side was piled with cots and furs. Wooden posts and support beams spanned the length of the tent, keeping the roof from caving in. Compared to the frigid landscape, this was downright cozy.

  Once inside, Halder removed his cloak and uncovered his head. Long, brown hair fell in curtains to his shoulders and framed his plain face. He smiled, watching their reactions with undisguised interest, seeming pleased with their approval.

  “What is this made of?” Mara asked, head whipping around to take it all in.

  “The canvas we use is coated in neatsfoot oil to prevent the snow from melting through. We have vents placed around the perimeter to let fresh air inside, and to allow smoke to escape when we light the cooking fires.”

  “Aren’t you worried someone will spot the smoke?” Ansel asked, breathless.

  “We only light the fires at night. This time of year, we only have about six hours of daylight,” Halder replied, leading them towards the back of the tent.

  There must have been at least two hundred people living here, all crowded inside, bustling about with various jobs. One man carried a basket of dirty linens. A dark-haired woman chased after a toddler, who was doing a spectacular job of evading capture. As the group passed, the residents stopped their work, some watching with curious, friendly faces, and others with suspicion.

  Mara looked on in amazement. Could this be the dreg haven her father had told her about? She had imagined a handful of desperate people maybe, but certainly not this bustling community. It was beyond what she could have dreamed. Here, they might be safe, if they allowed her to stay. Could someone train her to control her Gift?

  “Are you all dregs?” She asked, curious.

  Halder gave her a funny look and dodged the question. “Come, the elder wishes to speak with you.”

  A single fire burned in the back corner of the tent. Seated on a cushioned chair was an old woman with long white hair, staring into the flames. She seemed familiar somehow, and when she turned to greet the newcomers, Mara’s heart almost stopped.

  “Ruby?” Mara asked, dumbfounded.

  The woman’s wrinkled face broke out in a wide smile, making her appear younger. “Ah, you must have met my sister. I am Opal.”

  Unsure of the protocols of this strange new place, Mara watched Halder for cues. He bowed low at the waist, closing his eyes and placing a fist on his forehead. Mara attempted to copy the gesture, much to the amusement of the others. Her face flushed, and she crossed her arms awkwardly over her chest.

  Mara recalled Ruby’s parting words in Oxrest. “Ruby said to say hello to her sister when we reached Tregydar.” The resemblance was uncanny, but now she noticed the subtle differences. Where Ruby’s eyes were cloudy and vacant, Opal’s were deep and razor-sharp. Ruby was waif-like in stature, while Opal carried herself like an empress.

  “It doesn’t surprise me that Ruby would meddle with you troublemakers,” Opal said, though judging by the way her eyes sparkled, it wasn’t said maliciously. “She could never resist a little excitement. It almost got her killed a time or two,” she chuckled.

  “Forgive us, m’lady, but you have us at a disadvantage,” Steel said, doing one of his funny, sweeping bows. “My name is—"

  “Crown Prince Silvano Miore,’” Opal said, her lips peeling back to reveal an alabaster grin that set Mara on edge. “And I see we have Mara, Ansel, Wynn and . . .” Opal went rigid and her eyes rolled back into her head. She sucked a breath through her nose before leveling her gaze at him. “Mikkal. You are brave to remain by Prince Silvano’s side, considering your betrayal.”

  Steel stiffened, looking from Opal to his friend. “Mikkal?”

  Mikkal, who hadn’t spoken a word as long as Mara had known him, took a long, rattling breath and cleared his throat.

  “Don’t bother denying it, for I have seen everything,” Opal said. She flicked her hand casually, as though swatting an irritable bug.

  Mikkal blanched, seeming to shrink before their eyes. He turned to Steel, opening and shutting his mouth in an endless cycle. When he finally found his voice, it cracked from years of disuse. “My prince . . . she speaks truth. I have betrayed you most grievously.”

  “Explain yourself.”

  “You believed your father was the target of Lucan’s assassination, but that was false. In truth, it was you.”

  Steel blinked and let out a relieved breath. “Well, that isn’t a betrayal at all. Clearly, there has been a misunderstanding.”

  “If you would just let me—”

  “Nonsense. Besides, why should we believe this woman? No offense, madam, but we don’t know you. Mikkal has served me faithfully for over a decade.”

  “No offense taken,” Opal said with a tilt of her head. “I only speak the truth. Whether you choose to accept it or walk around with snow stuffed in your ears is not my problem.”

  “Nonsense. Mikkal, you are my truest, oldest friend and I trust you with my life. If anything, she speaks of Lucan’s betrayal. Let’s settle in and everything will work—”

  “I was hired to kill you!”

  Silence descended over the room, heads turning to watch the spectacle. Mara’s heart sank. Mikkal was hired to kill Steel? That was . . . impossible.

  “What do you mean?” Steel asked numbly, looking as though he’d been stabbed.

  “For years, your father watched popular opinion shift as the Order grew in power, threatening your family’s rule. The people wouldn’t follow a dreg, regardless of your bloodline. So, your father hired Lucan to assassinate you, allowing Princess Arianna to take your place as heir.”

  “He failed . . .” Steel said woodenly, staring at Mikkal with blank eyes.

  Mikkal nodded. “He did. That’s when your father banished you, or so you thought.” He put his head down, refusing to look Steel in the eyes. “Before we left, your father gave me a dozen gold coins and ordered me to kill you as soon as we left Crystalmoor.”

  “A dozen gold coins? Is my life so cheap to you?” Steel’s hands balled into fists.

  “But you didn’t kill him,” Mara interjected.

  “No . . . I just couldn’t. I’ve been by his side for so long . . . we became as close as brothers.”

  “You betrayed me… you took money to have me killed. It would hurt less if you had killed me.” Steel ran a hand down his face and his voice grew deathly quiet. “Why?”

  Mikkal swallowed. “Mikaela.”

  “Your niece? Why didn’t you say something before?”

  “My oath—”

  “To the depths with your oath! Your oath apparently didn’t matter when you were conspiring against your patron. You know what this means, Mikkal. Your life is forfeit.”

  “Woah, Steel, calm down. Mikkal has proven his loyalty to you time and time again,” Mara said as she stepped between them with her arms up, trying to diffuse the situation.

  “The girly’s right and ya know it. He saved yer life more than once out here,” Wynn added.

  Steel turned away, disgust coloring his words. “You don’t understand. When a Shield takes his oath, his loyalty belongs to his patron alone. Stronger than country, deeper than blood, more powerful than love. Wasn’t that your little vow?” He scoffed, sha
king his head. “I can never trust you again. In Crystalmoor, this would warrant an execution.”

  Mikkal nodded, sinking down to his knees before Steel. He pulled his sword from his sheath, holding it out hilt-first, then bowed his head to expose his neck. Steel’s jaw clenched, but he made no move to take the weapon from Mikkal.

  By now, they had drawn a large crowd. People formed a circle around them, watching eagerly. Opal stood to the side, eyes closed, her hands clasped in front of her body. Mara held her breath. If it looked like Steel would follow through, she would step in and stop him. Regardless of how he felt now, Steel would regret killing his best friend in cold blood for the rest of his life.

  “By law, you might deserve to die.” Steel closed his eyes, pain etched into every inch of his face. “But I can’t kill the man who spared my life.”

  Mikkal’s head whipped up to stare at Steel, mouth agape. “My prince?”

  “You have lost my trust and my friendship. I never want to see you again. Get . . . out.”

  Without a word, Mikkal stood, his shoulders hunched. Mara swore his eyes grew glassy as he looked at Steel one last time, then turned and walked away in shame. She pushed through the throng of onlookers to follow him. “Mikkal, wait!”

  He stopped by the entrance of the tent, staring out into the distance. “Will you watch over him for me, Mara?”

  “Of course I will, but where will you go?”

  “There’s nothing left for me here. If I survive the journey south, I might try Merrowhaven. Maybe I can find work there.” He gripped her arms, looking at her with a feverish intensity. “Promise me, Mara. Protect him.”

  “I swear it. Good luck, Mikkal,” she said, watching him disappear into the snow, her heart heavy. First they’d lost Tova and now Mikkal. She walked back to her remaining friends, hoping that she wouldn’t have to say goodbye to them anytime soon.

  The crowd had scattered by the time she reached the back corner of the tent. Opal hobbled over to Steel, appearing to favor her right leg. “My child, may I see the necklace you wear?”