“He wasn’t supposed to kill you! I specifically instructed that backwoods peasant to capture and contain, not kill, but that’s what I get for hiring an amateur. It’s a good thing he failed. Cadmus would have had my head if I didn’t deliver you alive.” Tova’s eyes glinted, and her lips pulled back in a smile that showed too much teeth to be friendly. “Father is not particularly forgiving to those who displease him.”
Father. The word echoed through Mara’s head, and she pressed her hands to her temples to ease the sudden pressure. “Cadmus is your father. Which means Ethan . . .”
“He’s my brother.”
“Half-brother,” Ethan clarified with a glare that should have melted the flesh from her bones. “Same father, different mothers, though I’m not inclined to claim any relation at the moment.”
“Wait, I thought you were Delegate Winter’s daughter?” Had she imagined that part? No. Tova had said they were at her father’s castle in Aravell. Was that a lie? Was Tova even capable of telling the truth about anything?
“Foster daughter, technically. I spent several years at Dumont castle, learning how to blend in with upper class society—a necessity, as you could imagine. I have to be anyone that the job requires.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of it? Having to pretend to be someone else, never showing your true face? Then again, if I had a heart as black as yours, I’d never want to show it either.”
Tova jerked back as if she’d been struck. For a moment, her expression slipped, making her appear almost vulnerable. Not the false vulnerability, that Mara now knew to be an act, but a glimpse into the real Tova beneath the thick layers of betrayal and lies. Then her face darkened, and Mara winced, waiting for the blow that was sure to follow.
Ethan stepped in between them, palms raised. “Tovaline, would you please excuse us for a moment. We’ll meet you downstairs.”
Judging by the way Tova’s eyes sparked and her hands clenched into fists, Mara expected the mousy girl to shove Ethan out of the way and pummel her into the carpet. Truth be told, she was surprised no one had yet. Her mouth had a bad habit of getting her into trouble. Instead, Tova straightened her gray robes and shrugged before slipping out the door without another word.
Ethan waited until the door clicked shut before placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Mara let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and forced a smile onto her face. She wasn’t going to admit just how shaken she was after hearing Tova’s revelations, especially not to Ethan. She couldn’t afford to show weakness here. “Never better.”
“If you say so,” he said, squinting his eyes in a way that made him look like he was questioning her sanity. That would make two of them. “You should know that it won’t just be Cadmus at dinner tonight. Both the Head Disciple and the Head Guardian will be there. Next to Cadmus, they are the highest-ranking officials within the Order, and make no mistake about it, they’ll be watching you closely.”
“Afraid I’ll explode again?”
His eyes darted down to the Deleos that wrapped around her wrists like metal leeches. “They’re afraid you can’t be controlled, no matter what assurances Cadmus has given them.”
“They’d be right.” She crossed her arms, jutting her chin forward.
“That’s not the point. You need to play the long game here if you want to survive long enough to escape. Be quiet and obedient. Do not speak unless spoken to. The last thing you want to do is give him a reason to punish you.”
Mara barked out a harsh laugh and threw her hands up. “What more could he do to me? Beat me? Throw me back in the cell? Kill me? Do you really think I care about myself at this point? If anything, it would be a relief. At least then I wouldn’t have to pretend any longer. But this isn’t about me. So long as he holds my family’s lives in his hands, I’ll do whatever he says. Not to mention the three people he has rotting in the dungeon to be used as pawns.” Her voice caught in her throat, and her vision blurred as guilt wracked her body. Here she was with a comfortable room and Tamil to look after her needs while they were probably stuck in some moldy cell with nothing but rats to keep them company. It wasn’t right. She whispered, “I wish I could help them. They’re prisoners because of me.”
“The dregs? Mara, they’re alive because of you.” At her scoff, he continued. “Don’t you realize what Cadmus does with the dregs that Tovaline and the other Veniets bring in?”
She shook her head. “Knowing Cadmus, it can’t be anything good.”
“It’s not.” His face grew hard, and he squeezed his eyes shut, as though he were reliving a terrible memory that he’d rather forget. “The lucky ones die quickly. The others, well . . .”
“Why? There are thousands of dregs, so why do some go free while others are . . .?” She let the question trail off, unable to voice the words.
His voice turned bitter. “Killing too many would raise questions. Many Gifted see dregs as animals, subhuman, so in their minds, it’s perfectly reasonable that a dreg is executed for something as small as theft. But a genocide? Even the most fanatical Order supporters would balk at that, and Cadmus can’t afford to lose any power.”
That’s what it would always come down to with Cadmus—power. She didn’t know what happened in his past to make him so ambitious, or maybe he was simply born that way. He would claw his way to the top, controlling the continent and every man, woman, and child in it. But what was his endgame? The thought made her pause as dread blossomed in her stomach. “Ethan, what happens if he gains enough backing? What happens to the dregs he has once he no longer needs them?” His jaw clenched, and he looked everywhere except at her. The answer was obvious—Cadmus would kill them. She stepped closer and placed a hand on his chest, pleading, “We need to get them out of here. You can help me! We’ll sneak down after dark. If you can get these Deleos off, I can knock out the guards and—”
“No!” Ethan shouted. Startled by his outburst, Mara stepped back, eyes wide. Ethan glanced over his shoulder as if he were afraid that Tova had overheard. He lowered his voice. “It’s too risky, even if you could access your Gift. Maybe more so.”
“If we don’t do anything, they’ll die. Maybe not today, but in a week? A month? A year?”
“And when we get caught, Cadmus will slit their throats while you watch.”
“He’ll do that anyway if we do nothing! Please, Ethan.”
Indecision warred on his handsome face, and she held her breath. She had no hope of doing it herself, not when she was every bit a prisoner as they were. But with his help? She knew they could get them out. Maybe she could escape as well and warn her parents before Cadmus could retaliate. It might be her only chance.
“No, Mara. I can’t let you take that risk. I’ll figure something else out. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, too.”
Sorry she even asked. Sorry she couldn’t do it herself. Sorry she ever came here in the first place.
5
Ethan led Mara down the stairs. Rather than stop at the tenth floor like she was used to when dining with Cadmus, they continued down the spiraling staircase until they reached a wide set of double doors closer to the ground level. Light from the dying sun filtered in through the windows, making the marbled walls sparkle.
It seemed odd that Order Headquarters was so beautiful. If homes reflected a person’s personality, Cadmus would be holed up in some dark, twisted fortress, not this palace of light. How could his followers not see through the deception? But perhaps that spoke to a greater truth. People will see what they want to see so long as it meets with their expectations.
Tova leaned against the wall, watching them approach with narrowed eyes. “Took you long enough. Have a nice chat?”
“Absolutely. We brewed a pot of tea, played a round of tiles, and swapped our deepest secrets. Sorry you weren’t invited,” Mara said, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.
Ethan offered her his arm, but when she refused,
he leaned in and whispered, “Remember what I said.”
She almost rolled her eyes. Did he think she was stupid? If her family’s survival rested on good behavior and obedience, she would smile and nod and keep her mouth shut. Hopefully.
Ethan pushed the doors open, revealing a spacious dining area. Hundreds of candles on the wrought-iron chandelier cast the room in bright, flickering light. Rows of tapestries lined the walls, depicting the different types of Gifted—some that she’d never heard of before. She squinted at the one of a woman holding a serpent in one hand while shooting green droplets from the other. What Gift was that? Under different circumstances, Mara would have loved to examine each one in depth. Unfortunately, this was not the time. Cadmus sat in a high-backed chair at the head of the large, dark-wood table, like some sort of egotistical ruler, lording over his pitiful subjects. His presence completely ruined the ambiance of the room.
A man in gray robes sat in the chair to Cadmus’s right, while a woman in sleeveless, midnight blue robes sat on his left. The Head Disciple had hair the color of a rotting pumpkin, a faint shadow of a beard, and a perpetual scowl that made him look decades older than he was. He glared at her like she was a spider to be crushed beneath his heel, and Mara imagined he was the sort of man who was only happy at an execution. The Head Guardian was both more interesting, and more terrifying. Short, gray hair curled under her harsh jawline. Her eyes—one green and one blue—tracked Mara’s movements like a hunter. Hundreds of tattoos snaked their way up her arms. Just how many more continued beneath her robes? Mara took an involuntary step back at the woman’s scathing glare and would have bolted from the room if her escorts hadn’t stopped her.
“Ah, there she is!” Cadmus tapped his fingers on the smooth surface before rising and spreading his arms out to the side. “Welcome! How wonderful that you could join us for dinner.”
Mara raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice.
“I think you’ll be most pleased with the menu today,” Cadmus continued as though they were two old friends having a relaxing meal together. “One of our Tellums brought down a stag this morning, so we have a nice roast venison.” He smiled expectantly.
All thoughts of behaving flew from her mind at the sight of his smirk. Did he think she’d grovel in thanks while the dregs were probably starving? Mara crossed her arms. “What did you do with the dregs I freed this morning?”
Ethan groaned. “Just play along,” he begged in a whisper that only she could hear. His breath tickled the back of her neck, and she stiffened, keeping her eyes glued to the Head Magi. She resisted the urge to elbow Ethan in the stomach.
Cadmus chuckled like she was a precocious child, begging for sweets before dinner. If he pinched her cheeks or patted her head, she would break his wrist. “Always the blunt one, aren’t you? Rest assured, they are being well taken care of. You have my word on that.”
Well taken care of . . . those four words carried so much meaning. Somehow, she doubted that Cadmus put them up in rooms as nice as hers. “Forgive my skepticism, Head Magi,” she said, infusing her words with sarcasm.
The Head Disciple slammed a fist to the table, causing Mara to flinch back, bumping into Ethan’s chest. Spittle flew from his thin lips as he shouted, “You forget your place, Impriga! You live at the mercy of the Head Magi!”
Cadmus held up a hand to silence him. “It’s quite all right, Arthur.” He turned to Mara and gestured to the chair next to the Guardian. “Please, have a seat.”
Mara planted her feet, hoping they couldn’t hear the sound of her heart beating wildly. She’d rather be nailed in a crate of scorpions than sit next to her. Tova rolled her eyes and grabbed her by the arm, nails biting into her soft flesh.
The Head Magi stared at her, one eyebrow raised. “You should be grateful for the freedoms and luxuries I’m allowing you to have. They can be taken away at any time.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it? Remember, you agreed to work for me,” Cadmus growled, his jovial demeanor slipping. “If you continue to disobey, I’ll have you whipped. Now, have a seat.”
Tova prodded her forward as Ethan pulled out the chair. With every muscle in her body tense, Mara sank onto the edge, leaning away from the Guardian. Ethan sat on her other side, while Tova opted to sit next to Arthur.
“Ah, you see?” Cadmus beamed. He clapped, and the doors flew open as a row of disciples entered the dining room carrying various trays and bowls filled with a mouthwatering array of foods: venison, peas in a cream sauce, roasted turnips, seeded bread, and more. A second row of disciples carrying pitchers walked around the table and began filling their goblets. Mara reached for hers and noticed for the first time her place setting was missing. She glanced at Cadmus, wondering if it was intentional. He watched her with a knowing smile, probably wanting her to beg for her food. Schooling her features into the blank mask she often saw Ethan wear, she folded her hands in her lap, even as her stomach clenched painfully from the delectable smells.
Cadmus might threaten to whip her for her insolence, but this was the real torture.
The Guardian reached across the table to grab the bread. “I see a child who is strong, to be sure, but also willful and defiant. You’ll have to break her if you want her to obey.”
Obey? What was she, a dog? She moved to push back from the table, but Ethan clamped down on her leg to keep her in place. Her eyes slid to his face, and she caught the smallest shake of his head.
“Think of all the raw potential, Fran! A block of stone, just waiting to be chiseled. A knife to be pounded and sharpened to perfection.”
Arthur let out a harsh laugh. “The disciples and I are happy to assist with the pounding.” He stared at her, unblinking, as he revealed his Gift by manifesting a glowing blade. Without breaking eye contact, he carved off a slab of venison, stabbed it with a fork, and dropped it onto his plate.
Mara swallowed. If he were allowed to train her, she very much doubted there would be anything left of her to sharpen.
“She is reckless and untrained. If you pit her against your disciples, I doubt you would be pleased with the results,” Fran said, scooping a spoonful of roasted turnips into her mouth, and swallowing without chewing.
“As I recollect, you have been the strongest in opposition. After witnessing what she can do, you haven’t reconsidered?” Cadmus asked, sounding surprised. Mara wanted to roll her eyes. Of course the Guardian was opposed—Mara had single-handedly destroyed her building and killed one of her Guardians, after all. What was more surprising was that Fran wasn’t calling for her head.
“I stand by what I said before. You would as soon teach a wolf to fly.”
“I have no need for a flying wolf, dear Fran. But a vicious one, loyal only to its alpha? Well, that I can work with.”
“And yet, even the wolf raised as a pup will turn on its master if given the opportunity.”
Mara’s hands balled into fists beneath the table. “There’s no need to speak about me as if I’m not here. I will gladly obey, so long as the dregs go free.”
“Hold your tongue!” the Armis spat.
Mara ignored him, keeping her eyes locked on Cadmus. “You have what you want. Some assurances would go a long way in getting me to cooperate. Let’s call it a compromise in good faith.”
“It’s amusing that you believe I would need to compromise to get what I want.”
“Maybe not, but it would make your life easier. I’ll submit. I won’t fight you any longer, so long as you let the dregs go.” The thought of obeying the Head Magi’s every command made her feel physically ill, but it was worth it if she could save those three people.
“No,” he said, rolling the word across his tongue like a fine wine.
“But—”
Ethan gripped her knee beneath the table, and she snapped her jaw shut.
“I will hear no more on this subject. If you continue to protest, I would be delighted to set them free�
�in pieces.” Cadmus took a long drink from his goblet, watching her evenly from over its rim. “Magi Ethan, how would you describe Mara’s knowledge of the Order and its practices?”
Ethan let out a small cough and sat up straighter. “Unfortunately, limited. From what I understand from my time in Stonehollow, her experience wasn’t particularly inclusive. I can’t speak of her education on the subject.”
“Is that so?” He cut off a piece of the venison and brought it to his mouth, chewing slowly before he swallowed. He dabbed his lips with a napkin, then folded his hands on the table. “Starting tomorrow, your days will be split in two. In the morning, you will receive instruction about the Order, and in the afternoon, you will spar with rotations of disciples until you master your Gift. In a few weeks, we’ll reevaluate your progress and begin sending you on missions. I don’t believe I have to warn you of the consequences if you step out of line.”
Mara paled at the threat. As much as it killed her to leave the dregs in the dungeons, Cadmus was right. So long as he needed them for leverage against her, they wouldn’t be harmed. For now. But how long would that last? What would happen if she made a mistake or failed in one of his orders? He wouldn’t stop at killing the dregs. No, he would follow through and destroy Stonehollow without mercy. Somehow, she needed to escape and warn them in time.
For the rest of the meal, Mara stewed silently as everyone ate. A few times, she caught Cadmus watching her, as if he could sense her thoughts. What had Ethan said? That thoughts influence actions, and he could Read what she would do as a result. She carefully cleared her mind, thinking of banal subjects like the weather, and Mrs. Carry’s rampant toenail fungus.
Ethan pushed back from the table and bowed his head to Cadmus. “With your permission, sir, I will escort the Impriga back to her chambers.” At Cadmus’s assent, Ethan offered the crook of his arm to Mara. She jumped from her seat, nearly knocking over her chair in her haste, and latched onto his arm.
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