The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  Wynn’s voice broke and she ran a hand through her choppy hair, tugging on the ends. “They got Tova.”

  “Who has Tova?” Mara asked, but deep down, she already knew the answer. “The Order.”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Steel said. “A day ago, Tregydarian scouts intercepted a missive. Tova had been captured from Dumont Castle and is being transported to Order Headquarters.”

  “That’s a week’s journey! How are we supposed to get there in time?” Mara asked. Maybe Wynn could teleport them there? She dismissed the thought. No, if Wynn were capable of jumping large distances, she would have done it the second she heard the news, tearing apart the Order with her bare hands.

  Ansel cast a nervous glance at Wynn before he said, “We don’t think they’re planning to hurt her. Not yet, at least.”

  “What do you mean they’re not going to hurt her? She… oh.” Mara stilled, understanding the implications of what he said. “She’s bait. They’re going to use her to draw us out.”

  Halder stepped forward, throwing his hands up. “All the more reason to stay here. If you go, there’s a high chance you’ll be captured or killed. Mara, you’re not ready yet.”

  Mara ignored him, her mind spinning. “What about her father? Can’t he do anything to get her back?”

  “His status as a delegate won’t protect Tova within the Order. She’s a dreg, and as such, has little to no rights. Besides, her father hates dregs, so I wouldn’t count on his help,” Steel said.

  Wynn’s body flickered in and out of existence and her breaths came in short hiccups. “And if he had anything to do with this, I’ll rip him apart.”

  Mara didn’t doubt it. Wynn could be downright scary when she wanted to be. “Okay, I’ll grab my pack. We can come up with a plan and get supplies on the way south.”

  “Already ahead of you,” Ansel said, holding up a bulging bag.

  “Perfect, I’ll be right back,” Mara said, sprinting back down the tunnel, Halder stalking her footsteps. She threw her belongings into her pack in a frantic jumble, urgency superseding neatness.

  “So, let me get this straight. You’re going to abandon your training, spend a week traveling in hostile conditions, and barge headfirst into Order Headquarters to take on hundreds of skilled disciples? You know this is insane, right?” Halder sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Fine, let me grab my pack.”

  “Don’t try to talk me out of this Halder. Tova is family. I’m not going to sit back and let her die when I can do something to save her,” Mara said. She paused and looked over her shoulder at him. “Wait, what did you say?”

  “I understand. I’m coming with you,” Halder said, gathering his belongings.

  “Why? You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but this way, we can continue your training. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because I was a coward.”

  “Thank you, Halder. You don’t know how much that means to me,” Mara said. She shouldered her pack and headed back to the surface. The Order had stolen too much from them already. They would rescue Tova, and gods help anyone who stood in their way.

  27

  One week later, Mara crouched in a ditch on the outskirts of the Order Headquarters. The early morning sun hid behind a wall of thick, gray clouds that seemed to kiss the tops of six white towers, clustered within an oppressive iron fence. Smaller buildings surrounded the towers, paling in comparison to their lofty counterparts.

  Mara swallowed the bile that burned hot in her throat, souring her resolve. Should they turn back? Sending for reinforcements would be the smarter move, but the thought of Tova shivering, alone, in some dungeon festered on her soul. They had to get her out now.

  “Okay, does everyone remember the plan?” Mara’s voice wavered, and she wiped her sweaty palms on her trousers.

  “Sneak in, grab Tova, run,” Ansel said with a grin, prompting a chorus of chuckles from the group. “Easy.”

  “This isn’t a joke! Do you remember the plan?” She glared at all of them in turn. They’d better remember.

  “It’d be hard to forget, since ya told us a thousand times,” Wynn said, checking through her weapons.

  “Ansel protects your back while you distract the disciples, allowing Wynn, Halder and me to search for Tova. If there are hostiles, we fight. If one of us is captured, we retreat,” Steel said, hovering a sphere of water above his palm. He glanced over at her, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “Are you sure about that last part?”

  Halder frowned. “I don’t like the idea of leaving someone behind either, but it makes the most logical sense. It’s a bit difficult to plan a heroic rescue mission from behind bars.”

  All of this talk about getting captured wasn’t helping her nerves. “Look, chances are that it will be a simple snatch and grab, but we need to plan for all possibilities here.” Her stomach churned, and she wondered if all soldiers were this anxious before battle.

  “And remember, if we have to fight, we disarm and disable only,” Halder added. “Killing would only make us as bad as the Order.”

  “Yer gonna stroll in there and blow stuff up, girly. Do us proud,” Wynn said, prompting a reluctant grin from Mara.

  “Brilliant strategy, Wynn. I never would have thought of it myself. Ansel, do you have the map?” Before they’d left to find Mara and Halder, Opal had pulled them aside, giving a rough sketch of the Order Headquarters and wishing them good fortune. Upon hearing of the Seer’s blessing, Halder relaxed, trusting in Opal’s visions implicitly. Mara didn’t share his optimism, or his blind faith. Agendas had a funny way of blurring even the strongest morals.

  Ansel pulled the map from his pack, unrolling it on the frozen ground in front of them. “Okay, we have a basic layout of the compound. Each building houses a different school for each level of the Order: Magi, Guardian, Disciple, Acolyte, Initiate and Novice.” He pointed to each in turn. “The dungeon is probably here, beneath the Magi or Guardian building. We’ll keep the disciples busy while you three find Tova. As soon as she’s secure, we’ll head back to Tregydar and regroup.”

  Mara gestured to the two smaller buildings on the far side of the map. “These buildings house the birthing mothers and the nursery. I don’t think I have to tell you this but stay away from them at all costs. We don’t hurt children, understood?” She glared at them, trying to project a confidence she didn’t feel. When they nodded their assent, Mara said, “All right, I think that’s everything. Let’s—”

  Ansel caught her face in his hands, tilting her chin up before brushing his lips lightly against hers. Mara froze, waiting for the butterflies or the sparks, everything that was supposed to happen, but she felt nothing. Nothing, save for irritation.

  He drew back, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry, but I . . . I had to. Just once.”

  Mara nodded, as if that was an acceptable reason for assaulting someone with their mouth. Then, she slapped him across the face. Satisfied that he’d learned his lesson, Mara crossed her arms and smirked. “And?”

  Rubbing the red handprint developing on his cheek, Ansel made a face. “It was like kissing my sister.”

  “See? I’ll tell you what. When we get through this, I’ll make it my personal mission to find you a nice girl you can have a dozen babies with. You’ll live in Tregydar, become a master Armis, and go down in history as the greatest swordsman who has ever lived. Deal?”

  He smiled, punching her lightly on the arm. “I’d like that, actually. You know, if it weren’t for you, I’d still be in Stonehollow, betrothed to Oona. Rescuing you was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

  “If ye’re both done with yer yapping, can we get back to the mission?” Wynn tapped her foot and scowled at the buildings as though she wanted to massacre every last person responsible for Tova’s abduction. Her expression was so ferocious that even Mara took a step back.

  Mara took a deep, shaking breath. “Okay, let’s go. We’ll signal you when we’re ready.” Wi
th that, she darted towards the compound, keeping low to the ground. With no trees or rock to shield them, they relied on speed to cover the open ground.

  The iron fence, wrapped in vines that twisted around the bars, loomed over them. Mara gripped the bars, ignoring the thorns that bit into her hands and clawed at her limbs. A shudder ran down her spine. It was as though the very compound was warning her to turn back, to give up. She gritted her teeth, climbing as fast as she could manage. Finally, she vaulted over the wall and sank into a crouch.

  Ansel dropped beside her, eyes darting around, scanning the grounds for danger. His hand opened and closed on his sword hilt in a nervous tic.

  Mara slipped around the nearest building. Up close, it appeared as though it had been cut from a solid sheet of white quartz, rather than built up brick by brick. According to Ansel’s Map, this should be the novice wing. “I think we should split up now.”

  “If you think I’m going to leave you unprotected . . .”

  Incredulous, she stared him dead in the eyes and lit her hands up like the sun.

  “Yeah, you’re right. We should definitely split up.”

  She smirked, peeking around the building. Other than a handful of brown-robed acolytes sitting around a massive stone fountain, it was empty. The tension fled her body, making her feel foolish for worrying. Holding off a few half-trained children would be easy. Mara shifted onto the balls of her feet, ready to sprint into the courtyard, but Ansel’s voice held her back.

  “Mara . . . where are the disciples?”

  She frowned. Two green-robed initiates turned the corner, holding an animated conversation between themselves. A novice in blue robes, no older than six or seven, bounced a ball on the pale bricks. An acolyte, sporting a wicked case of acne, practiced hovering a leaf between her palms.

  There were no disciples.

  The fountain burst, spraying water over the acolytes. They squealed, brushing their robes, and looked for the perpetrator, perhaps thinking it was a prank. Clearly, the last thing they expected was an assault on their home.

  There were no disciples.

  Mara glared at Steel, who flashed her an unapologetic grin from across the courtyard. His propensity to show off his Gift in the most theatrical way possible would get them all killed. When she apparently failed to show appreciation for his genius, he shrugged, heading straight for the Guardian building.

  There were no disciples.

  Her stomach plummeted to the ground. It was a trap. She screamed at Ansel, who raced across the courtyard and hurdled the fountain before knocking Steel out of the way. The door to the Magi’s building burst open and dozens of disciples spilled out. The children screamed and ran, taking shelter in the Novice building behind her.

  Mara let them pass without a second glance. Facing down the swelling flood of enemies, her whole plan disintegrated. She leapt towards the fountain, throwing a blast of energy that knocked ten of the disciples off their feet, drawing their focus from her friends. Mara pressed her hands together, then pulled them apart, forming a melon-sized ball of energy between them. She heaved it into the air, watching as it exploded in a blinding shower of sparks.

  Steel took advantage of her diversion, diving into the nearest building head-first.

  As she’d hoped, the majority of the disciples turned to face her. Most carried weapons, but a small group faced her with bare palms. Mara paused, waiting to see what they would do. An Ignis struck first, launching a series of fireballs at her. Mara threw up a shield, and the fireballs bounced off, vanishing in a puff of smoke.

  The Ignis followed up with a ring of fire that encircled her completely. With a thought, Mara drained the energy from the flames. Before he could attack again, Ansel slipped in behind him, bashing the Ignis across the temple with his hilt, knocking him out cold.

  “Thanks, Ansel,” Mara panted, spinning to face the incoming mob.

  He grinned, not even breathing hard. “Anytime. Now, let’s have some fun.”

  Together, they worked as a team, taking down over half of the disciples. Thanks to the past few weeks of strenuous training, it wasn’t even a challenge. A laugh escaped her lips. So much for the all-powerful Order. They couldn’t even defend their Headquarters against a madcap rescue mission.

  A Tellum pulled back his bowstring and loosed a glowing arrow at Ansel. Mara knocked it off course with a thought then spun around, kicking an Armis across the face. A Saxum pulled bricks from the ground, flinging them at her in rapid succession. She formed a shield, pretending to yawn when they glanced off ineffectively. Ansel was right; this was pretty fun.

  She reached out experimentally, latching onto the individual threads within five disciples, siphoning their energy. At first, they fought to break her link, struggling against an invisible attack, but one by one, they dropped to the ground, unconscious.

  Halder darted into view and wrapped glowing ropes of energy around their bodies, pulling them through the nearest doorway. Mara’s jaw dropped. Oh, he was definitely going to teach her that trick when they got back to Tregydar.

  For now, Mara buzzed with stolen energy. It pushed uncomfortably within her, begging to be released. She focused on the approaching sound of pounding footsteps and prepared to attack as soon as they came into view.

  Wynn appeared at her side, breathing hard. “We got problems. Tova’s not in the dungeon.”

  “What do you mean she’s not in the dungeon?” Mara hissed through clenched teeth. She swayed under the strain of holding in so much energy, then vented a fraction into the ground. “Where could she be?”

  Fifty disciples funneled into the courtyard in perfect formation. In the center, standing a head taller than the rest, was the Guardian from Oxrest. Additional tattoos snaked up his arms, almost to his shoulders. She shivered as he watched her from hooded, expressionless eyes. And by his side, dressed in a pristine gray robe, was Tova. Gone was any trace of the timid, mousy girl.

  Ruby’s words echoed in Mara’s head—A scheming mouse, a foxglove snare.

  “You were never captured, were you?” Mara asked in a flat voice, eying the disciples as they moved to surround them.

  Tova laughed, harsh and mocking. “Of course not.”

  Wynn scanned Tova from head to toe, staring at the Order robes in disbelief. She pushed forward, her voice cracking. “I trusted ya. This whole time . . . ya ain’t even a dreg?”

  “It’s not my fault that you’re naive.” A fleeting look of regret flashed across Tova’s face before she regained an apathetic mask. She lifted her chin, staring down her nose at Wynn. “I’ve been working as a Veniet for the past two years, tracking down rogue dregs and turning them over to the Order.”

  “Ya betrayed me! Betrayed all of us,” Wynn shouted, her body flickering in and out of sight.

  Tova’s eyes widened, but her voice remained steady. “It’s not betrayal if I was never loyal to you in the first place.”

  “It was you all along, wasn’t it?” It suddenly made sense. For so long, she’d wondered how the Order found them so easily. How the disciples seemed to know exactly where to look. “How could you do this to us? To Wynn?”

  “Oh, Mara,” Tova said, condescension bleeding from her voice, “there are more important things in life than personal attachments. It’s true, I was fond of Wynn, but the past few weeks have reminded me where my true loyalties lie.”

  “With the Order?” Wynn screamed. Tears tracked rivulets down her cheeks and she pulled her dirks from their sheaths.

  “Yes, with the Order. How could they not, considering they practically raised me within these walls? Surrender now, and we’ll spare your lives.”

  Wynn scowled, her body quivering with murderous rage. “Ya can take yer offer and shove it up yer traitorous arse.”

  Tova didn’t react, standing frozen and unblinking. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she gave the signal.

  The Order attacked.

  28

  As a sea of glowing arrows rained down on Mara,
one thing became clear—up until now, the disciples had been toying with them. She barely had time to put up a shield before they struck. Mara kicked herself. She had known there was something off about the tiny girl, but she’d ignored her doubts. She should have trusted her instincts, but instead, they’d played right into Tova’s devious hands.

  The enemy exploited their shock, doubling the ferocity of the attack. Wynn vanished, then reappeared behind the line of disciples, taking out five in seconds. Trapped as they were, the group no longer had the luxury of mercy; they had to fight to kill. Mara’s stomach writhed as another disciple fell with a sickening thud. So much life, wasted.

  A faint whistling was the only warning she had, and Mara ducked as an arrow passed inches over her head. The ground crumbled beneath her feet in an endless black pit. She jumped, scrambling to catch the edge before she fell to her death. Halder grasped her wrist and jerked her to safety. Well, as safe as could be expected, given the circumstances. Mara turned to thank him, then blocked a spear before it could impale his back.

  A quick glance showed Ansel slashing like a master swordsman, his glowing sword moving in a blur as he weaved between enemies.

  Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a flaming projectile barreling down. Mara rolled to the right, heat licking at her side as she dodged the stream of fire. She pulled at the burning thread, redirecting its course and lighting up a disciple in a pillar of flame. Sweat dripped into her eyes, clouding her vision. Her arms trembled, and sharp pain pulsed between her temples.

  “Halder!” She ran around the side of a building, chest heaving. How was she supposed to siphon energy if she couldn’t find an opening?

  Mara dropped to her knees as a chunk of rock smashed the wall where her head had been. Crushed rock and gravel pelted her back. An inhuman shriek pierced the air. Heart pounding, she crawled forward and peeked into the courtyard, terrified of what she might see.

  Wynn was downright feral, vanishing and reappearing at will. Swinging her twin daggers like extensions of her arms, she cut the disciples where they stood. She snarled at Tova, clawing her way closer with each savage blow.