Tova jutted her chin forward. “At least one of us is living up to his expectations.”
“Some of us don’t care about his expectations,” Ethan said with a shrug.
“You’re gambling quite a lot on his mercy. That will catch up with you one of these days.”
“And yet again, you overestimate how much I care.”
“Let me know how that works out for you when you’re rotting in a cell.”
“No doubt, that will be sooner, rather than later if you get your way.”
Tova sneered. “You always were a disappointment. If I had your Gift—”
“If you had my Gift, your head would have rolled before you took your first steps.” Ethan let out a harsh, bitter laugh. His eyes lifted to where Mara leaned against the wall, seeming to remember that she was in the room. His face cleared, but not before Mara caught the slightest cringe in his features. “Ah, forgive us, Mara. We tend to get carried away.”
Mara blushed and shook her head. “It’s fine.”
“Well, I have business to attend to anyway.” Tova gave a delicate sniff, then marched out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
“You two seem to have a history…” Mara said with a question in her voice. There was a familiarity between Tova and Ethan that went beyond what she’d expected for the Order. Not to mention the weird level of hostility.
Ethan laughed. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Probably not, but knowing you, you’ll ask anyway.”
“Ethan, I just want to say that I . . . I’m sorry,” Mara said, glancing at his neck again. “For hurting you. You’ve done nothing but help me, and you didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
Ethan’s features softened. “I understand. I’d rather you not do it again, but in your place, I don’t know if I’d have acted any differently.”
“It’s not that. I . . . never mind.” She clamped her lips shut. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“To be honest, I thought you might react that way, and I didn’t want to burden you. Not with this. After everything you’ve been through,” he stepped closer, reaching out as if he were going to touch her cheek before pulling back, “you still have that fire inside you. I only hope Cadmus doesn’t crush it.”
Before Mara could ask what he meant, a timid knock sounded on her door. Ethan crossed the room to open it, revealing a young boy who wore light blue robes that stood out in stunning contrast to his onyx skin. His head was entirely bald, save for a curious patch on the crown, shaved into the shape of a teardrop. Though he wore no jewelry, Mara could make out two small holes in his ears, suggesting that they had been pierced at one time. And more than that, he was a miniature copy of Tomar.
“Tamil?” Mara asked. When the group had traveled to Kearar, the Rei had revealed that the Order had taken his eldest son as a hostage under the guise of being trained as a novice. She never expected to see him here, standing in her doorway.
The boy let out a squeak and leapt back into the hall. He peeked his head around the corner. “How do you know my name?”
Before she could respond, Ethan stepped in front of her. “Why are you here?”
She stepped back around Ethan and offered the boy a small smile. “I met your father in Kearar.”
“You met the Rei? And you lived?” Tamil looked her up and down, as if sizing her up. “Impressive, for a foreigner. You must be very brave or very foolish.”
“Probably both, to be honest, though it wasn’t my choice,” she said, laughing to cover up her discomfort as the memories of that dreadful trip resurfaced. Steel had encouraged the group to travel to the Mubali Oasis in the hope that his friend, Tomar, could help them translate some ancient scrolls. When they arrived, they discovered that Tomar was now the Rei—the leader—of Kearar. He had been friendly and charming right up to the moment when he betrayed and captured them, intending to sell them as slaves to fund his mission to rescue Tamil from the Order. If it weren’t for Ethan, Mara and her friends would still be in Kearar serving a wealthy Kerani household.
“And why are you here?” Ethan demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.
Ignoring Ethan, Tamil tugged at his earlobe in what appeared to be a nervous tic and took a tentative step closer to Mara. His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head. “And how were my father’s teeth?”
“Oh, not you, too! What is with you Kerani and teeth?” Mara groaned and wiped a hand across her face. In a bizarre tradition that Mara didn’t understand, the children of the Rei had to kill the Rei or Reina to prove they were strong enough to rule. They then wore the Rei’s teeth around their neck. Mara sighed and said, “They were perfectly fine from what I could tell.”
“Good, I would hate to see them damaged before I can rip them from his skull.” Tamil puffed up his chest and grinned, flashing his own set of ivories. He was probably imagining stringing them on a necklace. Mara would never understand that custom as long as she lived.
“Is anyone going to tell me why you’re here?” Ethan threw his arms up in exasperation.
“He misses you,” Mara said. Tamil scowled, and she quickly added, “He’s doing everything he can to get you back.”
“You lie!” Tamil’s face grew thunderous despite the tears that threatened to spill from his deep, brown eyes. “He sent me away. The Head Magi said that my father didn’t want me anymore, so he sent me here to become a disciple.”
Ethan frowned, cutting off what Mara was going to say. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”
Tamil jerked as if he just noticed Ethan for the first time. He bowed his head and said, “Cadmus assigned me to serve the Impriga…”
“Call me Mara. And I don’t think that’s necessary. I can take care of myself.”
“It’s tradition. All novices spend a year serving a disciple as part of their training,” Ethan said.
“But I’m not a—”
Ethan covered her mouth with his hand. He let go, shooting her a warning glance, then poked his head out into the hall. He closed the door, then leaned back against it, mouthing the words, play along.
Mara had no idea what he was talking about but decided to let it go for the time being. She’d ask him later. She smiled at Tamil and said, “Don’t believe everything you hear. Your father wouldn’t have sent you away if he had a choice.”
“Really?” He wiped his eyes and looked at her with such hope that it stole her breath away. He launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around her waist in a stifling hug.
Mara returned the gesture as rage burned inside. Cadmus. It all came down to him, behind the scenes, making sure everyone played their role. He killed without care and tore families apart. He couldn’t be allowed to get away with it. Oh, she’d play his game. For now. But one day, he would get what he deserved. She’d make sure of it. Mara rested her cheek on the boy’s head. “I promise.”
“Thank you!” Tamil tilted his head back, flashing her a dazzling smile that sliced his face from ear to ear. “Can I get anything for you . . . Mara? Something to eat?”
“Food sounds wonderful, but first, I would love a bath if you don’t mind.”
Ethan let out a small cough, and her cheeks flamed.
“Yes, Impriga! I will fetch some hot water right away,” Tamil said before he scurried off with an extra spring in his step, no doubt imagining his father’s teeth around his neck. Kearar was weird.
“So, is this one of Cadmus’s tricks?” Mara asked, gesturing after Tamil.
“It’s part of their training to become disciples. It teaches humility and cultures a mentality of servitude.” Ethan tilted his head to the side. “Didn’t you learn this in school?”
She looked away, embarrassed. The old Magi hadn’t permitted her to go to school with the Gifted children, so her mother had taught her at home. Unsurprisingly, Order-related subjects were taboo in her household. Her parents had never forgiven Magi Samuel for refusing to Gift her. “I understood you the fi
rst time. But why Tomar’s son?”
“Because he can. If anything, it’s a warning for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He knows about Kearar. About my . . . involvement there.”
Mara paled. “Are you in danger?”
A smile played on his lips and one eyebrow raised. “The woman who tried to strangle me an hour ago is now concerned for my well-being. How touching.”
“You said they have to serve disciples, but I’m not . . .” Mara lowered her voice and leaned closer to whisper, “I’m not a disciple.”
“You agreed to work for him. Though, to be honest, I think he’d have an easier time getting a bear to dance than molding you into a perfect, obedient disciple,” he teased.
“Should I be offended? Because I’d rather take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one. You were right about one thing—Tamil being here is a message. It reinforces the fact that he can find out anything he wants, whenever he wants. Now that he has your Augeo, his sight has expanded beyond what you could imagine. Even though he can’t read your thoughts outright, he can see your intent. Your thoughts influence your actions. If you fixate on anything, particularly something that would incite an emotional response, he can see the consequences.”
“That’s . . . disturbing.” She fought the feeling of hopelessness that threatened to choke her. How was she supposed to fight someone who could anticipate her every move? How was she supposed to escape if he could see he run before she even started? She couldn’t help but feel trapped as the walls began closing in on her. Though the room was spacious and beautiful, it was still a prison.
A flash of understanding crossed Ethan’s face. “I will get you out of here, I promise.”
Mara tilted her head back and looked him in the eye. Despite his assurances, and his help, she still couldn’t fully trust him. Not yet. “I still don’t understand why you care so much? What am I to you?”
Tamil jumped back into the room with a wide grin. “Your bath is ready!”
She cast one last look at Ethan before escaping into the washroom.
Sinking into the steaming hot water was bliss itself. The last time she’d had a proper wash was in Tregydar. The thought sent her mind spiraling downwards, making her wish they’d never left. She could have been happy there, surrounded by a community of wonderful people. And now it was gone. Opal had assured her that Wynn and Steel had fled before the Order arrived, but where were they now? Would they come for her?
Before long, the water turned a murky brown from the weeks of filth that clung to her body. Repulsed by the idea of soaking in her own dirt, she hopped out to drain the tub. Tamil called through the door, asking if she needed help, but she was more than capable of filling a tub with water.
She turned her wrists, allowing the water to run over the carved metal bracelets. She closed her eyes, reaching inward to feel for her Gift but found nothing. Her fists clenched under the water. This was for the best. There was a moment in the courtyard when she had felt that swirling blackness, egging her on to finish the job. She had liked the power. Liked that she could control the disciples with little more than a thought. It terrified her.
What she wouldn’t give to be a simple Farber like her father. Or even an Irrigo. The gods must have laughed when they cursed her to be an Impriga.
4
An hour or two must have passed, for the water was colder than a Tregydarian snowstorm. Shivering, Mara wrapped a fluffy robe around her body, frowning at how her hipbones now protruded beneath her skin. Weeks without proper food were taking its toll on her health, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could last at this rate. She hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday, and she was absolutely starving. If she had to go through this ridiculous charade of pretending to be a disciple, the least Cadmus could do was feed her.
She walked out into her bedroom to find it empty. Ethan had probably been summoned by his father for more duties, whatever they were at Order Headquarters, but where was Tamil? Had he left to bring her food? Her stomach rumbled at the thought.
A deep blue gown with silver stitching was draped over her bed. She approached it with the same level of caution she’d give a rabid wolf. A dress? What was she supposed to do with that? Her mother had given up trying to get Mara to wear dresses years ago. After she came home on a nightly basis with muddied hems and torn sleeves, Sarai had finally relented, allowing her to run about in more practical tunics and leggings. Lip curling in distaste, Mara glared at the offending gown before reluctantly pulling it over her head. She struggled with the intricate fastenings, holding in her breath until the last one looped shut. A pair of soft-soled shoes—slippers, really—waited on the floor. Wishing for her boots instead, she pulled them on. She hoped she wouldn’t have to fight in these.
Mara glanced at the mirror hanging from the far wall, not even recognizing herself. Dark bruises stained the skin beneath her sunken eyes. Silky fabric hugged her curves before flowing down to her ankles. She hated it. She looked like a highborn lady. A malnourished, slightly deranged highborn lady. Well, until her hair dried, at least. Then, she’d probably look like she had a mass of frizzy worms pasted to her head. Grabbing a comb from the small vanity, she carefully picked through her waves and curls, detangling them as best as she could.
A firm knock sounded on the door. “Tamil? Is that you? You’re not going to believe what they expect me to wear!”
She opened the door, expecting to see her young friend. Instead, Ethan waited on the other side. His blank expression slipped from his face and his jaw dropped. His dark eyes traced her form, and she fidgeted under his intense gaze.
“Can I help you?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. What was his problem? Did she really look that terrible? She self-consciously smoothed down her dress, hoping that she’d managed to close all the fastenings correctly.
“Uh . . . I, um, I’m supposed to escort you to, um . . .” Ethan looked away, then back again, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.
“What? I’m sorry, are you speaking common, or did you create a new language just to confuse me?” As long as she’d known him, Ethan had never spoken like this. Maybe he was ill? She frowned, examining the flush with interest. “Uh, are you feeling okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” He coughed and added, “You look . . . nice.”
Mara’s mind went blank. Ethan thought she . . . looked nice? What did he mean by that? Even a pig looked nice after all the mud and dung was washed off. Or did he mean nice nice? His red-faced stammering suddenly took on new meaning. Well, there was a complication she didn’t need in an already messed up situation. Not while she was at Order Headquarters. Especially not while she was trying to figure out if he was trustworthy. Still, she couldn’t help but notice how his new black robes fit his lean figure so much better than the white ones ever had. Or the way his long black hair, pulled back in a leather thong, enhanced the sharp contours of his face. He looked pretty nice himself.
Tova stepped into view and weighed Mara with an appraising look. She whistled appreciatively under her breath and smirked. “You clean up well at least. I can’t say I blame him for noticing, though, I would caution you against doing anything that might land you back in a cell.”
Realizing that she was standing there gawking like an idiot, Mara tried to slam the door back shut, but Tova darted inside before it could close. Not that there was any way of locking it from the inside, but maybe she could have barricaded it with the wardrobe? Wishful thinking, at best. Trying to reclaim whatever dignity she could, Mara stood straight, brushed her hair back, and asked, “What do you want, and why am I dressed like this? What happened to my clothes?”
“Hopefully burning as we speak. What Ethan meant to say is that Cadmus sent us to escort you to dinner,” Tova said, showing no emotion on her delicate face. She stood to the side and waved toward the hallway. “You can come of your own free will, or we can drag you there.”
“
You wouldn’t dare,” Mara said, even though the expression on Tova’s face said she absolutely would dare, and would probably enjoy it, too.
“You’d be surprised what I wouldn’t do.”
The statement sent a wave of anger through Mara, bitter and overwhelming, as she thought about how deep the betrayal went. Did she feel no remorse? “What’s wrong with you? We traveled together for a month… I even considered you to be a friend once.”
“One of your many mistakes.”
“You saved my life once when you could have let me die.” Though as she said it, the memory of Ryan, the Healer from Aravell, resurfaced. How he had tucked an empty vial into his robes when she’d awakened. How she’d been poisoned to block her Gift when the Hunter found them. How Tova had conveniently stayed behind in Aravell while the rest of the group traveled to Tregydar. They’d believed that her father, Delegate Winters, had ordered her to stay behind, but it was difficult to believe anything about Tova now. Her eyes narrowed. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“You’re going to need to be more specific.”
Certain of Tova’s involvement, Mara stepped forward and hissed, “Back in Aravell, you ordered the Healer to poison me, didn’t you?”
Tova froze and her lips parted into a surprised O, but she didn’t deny it. She didn’t do anything except school her features back into an indifferent mask.
“And the hunter? Did you hire him to kill us, too?”
“You did what?” Ethan shouted, his face paling. His head whipped around to stare at Tova.
“Oh, spare me your outrage. It’s not as if your hands are clean.” Tova turned, her gaze cold, calculating. With a brutal honesty she said, “Yes, I did. But it’s not what you—”
“You’re sick. Do you know how close he came to succeeding? Because I was drugged, I couldn’t protect everyone. He almost shot me!” she said, remembering the crossbow aimed at her. She could still hear the twang as the bolt as it flew towards her face. Mara’s fists clenched, and the Deleos bit into her wrists. She wanted to rip them off and throttle the girl. Though, with the level of fury coursing through her veins, Mara didn’t need her Gift to have her revenge. Chest heaving, she turned away before she did something that would land her back in the dungeon.
The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus Page 36