“It’s not just Tobias. It’s all of the dregs . . . the way they are treated is horrible. The Order had no right to curse people like this.”
“You can save your speech. I happen to agree with you.”
Mara stopped short. “What do you mean you agree with me? You’re a Magi of the Order!”
“Technically not anymore.” Ethan’s mouth twisted in a wry grin. “After your little display at the execution, and your subsequent escape, there were consequences for me. Cadmus was so embarrassed by my failure that he relieved me of my position in Stonehollow.”
“Well, I’d say I’m sorry for you, but it wouldn’t be genuine.”
“Don’t be. The only thing I miss are Mr. Fitz’s pastries. The Pistors here have no creative vision.” His voice grew wistful, and he paused before shrugging his shoulders. “I digress. Being stripped of my title might have been the best thing that’s happened to me. I’ve gotten to travel the world, which is something that had been limited before. I must say . . . you looked rather adorable in that little slave outfit, glaring at everyone as if you wanted to tear them apart.”
“What?” Mara froze, realization dawning. “That was you?”
“The one and only.” He gave her a mocking bow.
“How did you even know we were in Kearar?”
“Tovaline sent word that your group would be traveling to the Oasis, hoping that the disciples would catch up before you actually made it through the desert. I decided to go myself and see what sort of trouble you would get into. Lucky for me, you didn’t disappoint.”
“Why? Why did you buy us and then let us go?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “It would have made more sense for you to hand us over to Cadmus.”
“Do I need a reason?”
Mara jutted her chin out, pursing her lips. “You think I’m going to believe that you did it out of the goodness of your heart? A Magi isn’t going to do anything for free, and you’re just as selfish and conniving as the rest. What do you want?”
Ethan winced at her words, then leaned into the cell as far as the bars would allow. “Regardless of what you believe, I’m only trying to help you. Listen carefully. Order Headquarters is the most dangerous place for you on the whole continent. Cadmus always gets what he wants, and he won’t hesitate to remove your head from your shoulders if you get in his way. If you have any chance of getting out of here alive, you’re going to have to trust me.”
His head snapped up at the sound of voices and soft footsteps approaching down the hallway. Ethan spun away, slipping into the shadows without a backwards glance, leaving her alone and confused. Could she trust him? She had once, and it ended in nothing but pain. It could be another one of his tricks, but it didn’t change the fact that she needed to escape this wretched place, and soon. Slowly, the beginnings of a plan formed in her mind. It would be dangerous and stupid, but that was no different than before. She would do whatever it took to gain her freedom.
Even if it meant working with the enemy.
Epilogue
Cadmus shuffled through the tattered pages of an old leather journal, its cover worn smooth from years of use. He leaned against the oak desk in his spacious office, sipping a glass of spiced cider as he read, a small smile on his face. His beloved Order was in chaos, but his spirits were higher than ever.
The day had gone perfectly. Tovaline had been instrumental, as usual—she’d made the perfect bait, luring their prey flawlessly into his trap. Of all the disciples he’d trained, she was by far the smartest and most talented, rising to the rank of disciple before she turned thirteen. It almost made him regret killing her mother. Almost. If only her brother could be as ambitious . . .
A sharp knock on the door rousted him from his thoughts. Cadmus’s eyes rolled back into his head, going vacant for a second. Then, he sighed, a long, frustrated sound. “Come in.”
Ethan stepped inside, eyes roving the office a moment before he sank to one knee, head bowed. “Sir, you called for me?”
“Listen to this.” Cadmus picked up the journal and began to read from an entry titled ‘The Child of the Black Sun.’ “Never before have I had such a powerful vision. It was like her very soul drew me in, and I feared for my life. I saw the Order Headquarters, filled with students and their families. In the very center, standing above the fountain, was a girl with long, golden hair, blowing about in a tangled mess. Her hands and eyes glowed white, and she wreaked havoc and death everywhere she went. And then, when she was through, and the screams of dying men faded away, all that was left was a pile of ash, blowing away to nothing.”
Cadmus stepped around his desk and sank into his comfortable chair. He leaned forward, steepling his hands on the desk and peered over them at Ethan. He said nothing, merely watching in silence, just long enough for it to be uncomfortable. It was exceptionally satisfying to watch Ethan fidget, he decided. “Quite fascinating really. His description was remarkably accurate, except for the ending, of course. One half-trained child against the might of the Order is like a gnat against a giant.”
“That gnat still managed to kill two hundred people.” Ethan ran a hand through his hair, blowing air through his puffed cheeks before gesturing to the journal. “So, you don’t agree with Magi Samuel that she is the child of the prophecy?”
“On the contrary. I believe that it is possible. Probable, even, if you consider the sheer amount of evidence stacked up against her.”
“If I may ask then...” Ethan hesitated, indecision warring on his face. Foolish boy, he would have to learn to mask his emotions better. “Why is she still alive?”
“I said that it is possible, but it’s also preventable.” Cadmus stood, walking over to the window that overlooked the courtyard. Saxums and Farbers were hard at work, repairing the damage their guest had wrought. At this rate, they could have it completed by sunrise. He smiled in approval. They were orderly and efficient, just the way he liked it. Cadmus turned back to Ethan. “Killing her would be wasteful, considering we can use her.”
Ethan flinched and cleared his throat. “You might find that difficult, considering our Guardian killed her friend. She’s grieving now.”
“Ah yes, the Armis. That was another waste, if you ask me. From what I observed, he was quite talented. You said he was a friend?”
“From my time in Stonehollow, it was obvious they were close.”
“Lovers, perhaps?”
“Not on her end, no.”
Cadmus emptied his glass of cider and walked over to the row of shelves lining the far wall. He picked up a decanter and refilled the glass almost to the brim. As an afterthought, he held up an empty glass with a smile. “Would you like some cider?”
Ethan shook his head, eying the cup with thinly-veiled suspicion, as though he expected Cadmus to poison it. He wouldn’t, at least not this time. Hmm… poison would certainly be a cleaner death than his preferred methods. He shelved both the decanter, and his thoughts, for later.
“Do you know why I sent you to Stonehollow in the first place? Cadmus asked, swirling the liquid around in his glass. “It’s because you are my greatest disappointment. You had so much potential, yet you are rebellious and soft-hearted, just like your mother. As my successor, you need a certain sort of ruthlessness and cunning, but you failed to meet my standards time and time again. A tiny village in the most remote corner of the continent was just the thing to get you out of my hair. And even then, you couldn’t keep control over a single child.”
“I didn’t know she was the one we’ve been looking for . . .”
“Do you think I’m simple-minded? You had Magi Samuel’s journal. Of course you knew it was her. My question is why you didn’t to bring her to me.”
“Have you asked Tovaline the same question? She traveled with Mara for a month.”
“Don’t project your own failures onto your sister. You had the Impriga and her companions in a locked cage.” Cadmus reveled in the way Ethan’s face went ashen, and he chuckled under his breath.
“Yes, I know all about that.”
Ethan swallowed. “They overpowered me. I was lucky to escape with my life.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But it is enough to make me question your loyalties, son. Don’t think for a moment that you are anything but expendable to me. I can still breed another successor, and the girl is certainly fair enough to suit my needs.”
“Yes, sir.” Ethan bristled, the lines in his jaw going hard. “If you would like, I can keep an eye on Mara and help her adjust to life within the Order. It might help her transition.”
Cadmus watched his reaction with shrewd eyes. Interesting. It appeared as though he were fond of the girl. He could use that to his advantage. “A generous offer, but I’m afraid I will have to decline as I have different plans for you. But first, tell me what happened to the others.”
“Her companions managed to evade all attempts to capture them. Within a few days, they will cross the border into Tregydar and be out of our reach.”
“A pity that they got away, but it’s no matter. We have the one that we want.” Cadmus stroked his chin, narrowing his eyes. “If the girl asks, make sure you keep that tidbit to yourself. A bit of psychological torment might be just the thing we need to break her.”
“If she can be broken. She’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for.”
“Nonsense, she simply needs the right . . . incentive. Wait and see, she’ll be working for the Order within a month. They always do.” Cadmus set down his glass and strode over to his desk, pulling the Augeo from his top drawer. “Curious thing, isn’t it? Until the girl single-handedly destroyed a building that had taken fifty Saxums to build, I hadn’t considered the possibility of her bringing such a fine gift. If it were a simple process, I would be tempted to manufacture these by the thousands. Then again… there is something deliciously wonderful about being the only person alive with a genuine Augeo.”
Ethan took a step back, his face draining of color.
“You know what this means, don’t you? I’m already the strongest Magi alive. With this amulet, just how far will I be able to see? Will I be able to Read the future before it’s even a mere thought in a rebellious head? Might I even be able to hear the thoughts themselves?” Cadmus didn’t miss the fleeting look of panic on Ethan’s face, before he smoothed it away to a blank mask. Cadmus clasped his hands behind his back and said, “Now, I finally have the advantage I need to put down the rebels for good. That Seer has meddled in our affairs long enough. It’s time for us to wipe Tregydar off the map.”
“Forgive me, but won’t Opal See you coming and warn her people?”
“With the Augeo augmenting my abilities, there is nowhere she can hide that I can’t find her.”
“Then . . . I volunteer to lead the mission.”
“And give you an opportunity to sabotage my plans again by warning them? I think not.” Cadmus walked over to the door, calling for his guards. They filed into the office, one by one. They shot curious looks at Ethan but did not voice their questions. Good. He had trained them well. “Place Ethan in a cell, and do not allow him out until you receive word from me.”
The guards surrounded Ethan, binding his arms behind his back without an ounce of hesitation. To his credit, he didn’t struggle. Much. Ethan raised his chin, staring Cadmus in the eyes. “How could you think so little of me? I wouldn’t betray you like that.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Cadmus barked out a laugh, then his voice grew deathly quiet as he leaned in to whisper in Ethan’s ear. “I had twenty-three disciples and two Magi executed because they weren’t loyal to me, or the Order. Don’t believe for a second that you will receive special treatment because we’re blood. Consider this your final warning.” With a wave of his hand, the guards dragged Ethan from the room.
Cadmus smiled. Everything he had worked for was coming together seamlessly. The tiles were stacked, in a way, and all they needed was the right push to set them in motion. He fastened the Augeo around his neck and looked out the window, surveying his Order Headquarters with satisfaction. As the sun set behind the Novice wing, his heart swelled with pride. He loved everything about it. The power. The respect. The promise of complete and utter domination. It was his reward for a lifetime of hard work.
And soon, the world would be his.
TALES FROM
STONEHOLLOW
A DREG SHORT STORY COLLECTION
BETHANY HOEFLICH
Dedicated to Phil:
May your saint-like patience
never wane.
Tobias
A scream, followed by a raucous cheer, rose from the direction of Stonehollow’s town square, disturbing the peace of the warm, summer evening. Startled, Tobias dropped his knife and rose out of his make-shift seat of logs and rags. He frowned at the sun that was lowering behind the tree-line of his clearing. It was never this noisy this time of day. By now, families should be safely tucked inside their homes, preparing their evening meals.
Something big must be happening in the square.
Whatever it was, it would be of no consequence to him, so he turned his focus back to his carving—a fox. Tobias leaned back against the rough wall of his home and picked up his knife. He ran it across the surface of the wood, once, then twice, chipping off a small sliver from the emerging flank. Then, he turned it over and scraped across the back, leaving shallow grooves to create the illusion of fur. There, almost perfect. He could already imagine the village children playing with it. For one, brief moment, it gave him hope that even a lowly dreg could have a purpose in this gods-forsaken life.
A slight rustle of leaves snapped him to attention, and he scanned the darkening forest. Heart thudding, he prayed that it was just a deer or a rabbit. The alternative was too terrifying to consider. So far, the villagers of Stonehollow had kept their distance. Ostracized him, really. He knew the rules. As long as he stayed by his hut, they left him alone. Was that changing?
In other countries, dregs were hunted and killed as abominations, making his situation here look downright cozy. It only took one edict from the Order, and everything could change. Every day, he half expected to be dragged from his bed by an angry mob and executed for no other reason than his birth. With no Gift, no magical ability to call his own, he lived at the mercy of the Magi.
A young child with a tangle of curly, blonde hair burst through the tree-line, clutching her shoulder. The top of her small, brown tunic was soaked through with blood. Tobias shot to his feet, bile rising in his throat. Who had hurt her? He tampered down the urge to drag her into the center of town and demand justice. Who was he kidding? A dreg couldn’t demand anything.
“Mara? What happened?” Tobias placed a hand on her uninjured shoulder, peering into the dense foliage for signs of pursuit. He wasn’t a fighter, but he would willingly take a beating if it meant sparing her more pain.
“M-m-m . . . I . . .” She clutched at her shoulder, her words broken by the sobs that wracked her tiny frame. Tobias pulled her into a hug, careful not to hurt her further. He guided Mara over to the hut and helped her sit.
“Shh . . . Breathe, Mara. It’s going to be alright. Wait here. I’ll be right back, okay?” He ducked inside to look for some bandages and salve and grab a jug of spirits that was no longer fit for drinking. On a whim, he picked up a basket of peaches that sat on his little table. She might be hungry once she stopped crying, and peaches were her favorite.
When he returned, Mara was rocking on the logs, her breath coming in shallow pants. Tobias knelt by her side and patted her knee.
“I need you to be still, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.” At her nod, he carefully cut away the sleeve of her tunic with his whittling knife, rolling back the sides to expose the wound. Tobias sucked in a gasp. It appeared smooth around the edges, as though it had been caused by a blade. Who would have stabbed a child? And why? Mara was no stranger to mischief, but she couldn’t have done anything to deserve this.
Tobias picked up a clean rag and poured the spir
its over her shoulder, washing the wound. She whimpered at the sting. “I’m so sorry, Mara. Almost done now.” He smeared on a generous dollop of salve to ward off infection, then wrapped the wound in bandages before offering her a mug of water to drink and a dry cloth for her eyes. Then, he held her until she stopped crying, speaking in a quiet, sing-song voice for comfort. When her breathing evened out and the tears dried, he gently asked, “Now, would you like to tell me what happened?”
“The Magi . . . Oona got hurt. We were just playing, and her arm was hanging all wrong. The Magi said I had to be punished, and he stabbed me with his knife in front of everyone. It was an accident, I promise!”
Tobias swallowed a flash of anger, stroking her hair the way his mother stroked his when he needed comfort. Before she abandoned him, at least. His parents couldn’t bear the shame of having a dreg for a son any longer, so one night when he was twelve, they packed up and left while he was asleep, not bothering to say goodbye. He never saw them again. The next day, he was kicked out of their house by the Magi and left to fend for himself.
“Why were you playing with the other children?”
“Ansel asked me to. And it was so much fun until . . .”
“I know.” He tapped her under the chin and reached into the basket, pulling out a peach with dramatic flair. “Look what I have for you! A peach—picked fresh this morning!”
Mara wiped her eyes and smiled. “I’m the one who picked them!”
“Were you? And here, I thought the magical forest sprites were leaving them on my doorstep!”
“Silly. Sprites aren’t real. Neither are trolls, even though Mrs. Carry swears she saw one take her cat.” She reached out and took the peach from his hand, then frowned. “Tobias . . . they told me . . . they told me I’m worthless because I’m a dreg.”
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