Once they were in the hallway and out of earshot, Ethan chuckled under his breath.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m remembering the first time I offered to escort you back in Stonehollow. You stared at my elbow like it was about to sprout fangs and bite you. I had to double check to make sure it hadn’t mutated without my knowledge. And now,” he looked down to where she was still clinging to him, “you do it without a second thought. Could it be that I’m growing on you?”
“Like a toxic mold,” Mara said, her face heating. She released his grip and took a step away.
“Ouch. No need to let go on my account,” he teased.
Flustered, she brushed down her dress. “That’s okay. I think I can manage to climb the stairs without help.”
“Well, if I can’t escort you properly, perhaps I can help with something else?” He reached into his robes and pulled out a hunk of bread. “It’s not much. I wanted to steal an entire plate of venison, gods know you need the sustenance, but with Cadmus watching . . .”
Mara blinked, surprise flashing across her face. She reached out and took the bread from his hand. It took all her willpower to not cram it down her throat. “Thank you.”
“I’ll ask Tamil to bring you something later.”
Mara nodded, but her thoughts drowned out anything he said. How could she enjoy these comforts, even this small bit of bread, knowing that the dregs could be suffering in the dungeon? Even though she didn’t have a choice—it wasn’t as if she could free them herself—what sort of person did that make her?
“Two bits for your thoughts?”
Ethan’s voice jarred her to the present. She blinked, realizing they had walked up the stairs and to the door of her room without her noticing. “Sorry, I wasn’t really listening.”
“That’s okay. You’re probably exhausted. I’ll meet you tomorrow so we can begin your education, as ordered.”
She groaned. Did she really need to learn about history in order to shoot energy from her fingertips?
Ethan read the expression on her face and laughed. “Tomorrow.” He held his finger up in a silent promise before slipping back down the hall.
That night, Mara leaned against the window in her room, staring out beyond the confines of Order Headquarters, wishing she could be anywhere but here. She wanted to be back home in Stonehollow. She longed to run free through the woods and dive into the lake. Had the first snow fallen yet? Were her parents curled up by the fire, eating sugared ginger and generous slices of Mr. Fitz’s black walnut cake? Did they miss her?
Did they even know she was alive?
A darting movement outside caught her eye. An animal of some kind? If that was the case, she couldn’t imagine how it had gotten over the fence. It could be a guard, but the movements seemed too jerky, as if they were trying to avoid being spotted. She craned her neck to see four dark shapes scurrying across the courtyard toward the iron fence that surrounded the compound. Her breath hitched. Were those the dregs? The figure at the head of the line, dressed head-to-toe in black, motioned for the other three to follow. Wait… those robes looked familiar. Ethan? What was he doing? Cadmus would tear him to pieces if they were caught! The glass fogged as she pressed against it, trying to get a better look.
As if sensing her watching, Ethan turned to look up at her window. He pressed a hand to his heart and raised it toward her in an almost mocking salute. Then, he helped the dregs, giving them a boost over the fence, where they fled, disappearing into the dark landscape beyond.
Mara’s heart warmed. Did he free them for her?
6
The next morning, Mara sat on a stool at her vanity, trying her best to not look at the bed behind her. She wanted nothing more than to sink back into the soft mattress and pull the blankets over her head. Somehow, she didn’t think that Cadmus would appreciate her skipping her morning lessons to sleep, no matter how tempting the thought. Instead, she was subjected to the worst form of torture.
Tamil stood behind her, trying—and failing—to run a brush through her hair despite his best efforts. “Ouch! Tamil are you brushing my hair, or trying to yank it all out?” She made a face and he giggled. She loved the sound, which still had the high-pitched tinkle of childhood and innocence. It reminded her of Harvest Festival days when there was nothing to do but have fun and ignore responsibilities.
“Sorry, Mara. You have so much hair.” He lifted up the ends to illustrate his point, eyes bulging. “You should shave it off, like mine.”
She pulled up a mental image of herself with a bald head and doubled over in laughter. “I don’t think I could pull it off as well as you can.” She smiled at him in the mirror, and his patch of hair caught her eye. Back in Kearar, all the adults—both males and females—had been completely bald. “Tamil? Why do you have that little patch of hair there?”
He swelled with pride. “It’s a tradition that goes back to the foundation of the Mubali Oasis, when our goddess saved my ancestors.”
“I’d love to hear it, if you don’t mind sharing.”
Tamil set the brush down and pulled his shoulders back, hands clasped before him. A ghost of a smile flashed across his face, and Mara wondered if he missed his culture as much as she missed hers. In a tone more serious than expected for a child, he began. “I know you don’t understand much about our ways but everything we do, we do for a reason. Most of our customs in Kearar can be traced back generations to a single legend, passed down from father to son, mother to daughter. We cherish it in our secret hearts and know that the gods smile on us.
“Long ago, travelers from Talos sailed across the Strait of Pyrithia, seeking to trade their famous silks and gems in Port Lycravos. Before they arrived, a terrible storm threatened to drag their souls to the depths of sea. They escaped with their lives, but their boat was shipwrecked off the coast of Crystalmoor. With their boat destroyed and no way to return home, they wandered the coast, hoping to charter passage back to Talos in shame. Every captain turned them down, for they had no money and no goods to barter. In the end, they had no choice but to continue inland in hopes of finding civilization. City after city turned them away, refusing to help the dark-skinned foreigners, who carried the stench of fish and desperation. With no other options, they pressed on, but they never gave up hope. What they found was an inhospitable desert.
“Days passed, and their water ran out. They could see their deaths approaching as certain as the sunrise and sunset. In their desperation, they cried out to the gods for help. As if summoned by their prayers, a giant desert eagle appeared and flew above them. For a day and a night, they followed until the eagle led them to what would become known as the Mubali Oasis. The eagle landed on the sand, and in her beak, she carried a single drop of water. The second it dropped to the ground, it blossomed into a giant reservoir of pure, life-giving water. The people bowed low in thanks, and the eagle transformed into a beautiful woman, cloaked in a gown of sunlight. She had skin as deep as midnight, and ebony hair that flowed to her waist. She was the goddess, Mubali, protector of the lost and guardian of the desert. Awed and shamed by the goddess’s perfection, the women drew their daggers as one and sheared off their hair. The men, inspired by the women, did the same until their heads were as bare as their wives’. To this day, we keep our heads shorn in memory of Mubali, who saved us all.”
“And the teardrop?” Mara asked in a hushed whisper, afraid that if she spoke aloud it would ruin the magic.
Tamil touched the back of his head. “To honor the life gift she gave us. A teardrop of hair, for the water she provided. When we reach adulthood, there’s a ceremony we go through where our parents hold a feast, sing songs, and then shave it off. I wish you could be there for mine.” He turned his face away suddenly, and Mara felt his sadness. Unless he somehow managed to escape back to Kearar, he would never have his ceremony.
Trying to change the subject, Mara said, “That’s beautiful, Tamil. What about the charcoal around your eyes? A girl I know
from back in Stonehollow started to wear it after seeing some traveling performers from Kearar. Does that have religious significance, too?”
“You are talking of the hawk girl, yes?” Tamil grew serious, his brows pulling down over his big, brown eyes. “The charcoal is the most important of all, and it is deeply offensive for any outsider to wear it. Her children’s children will be cursed throughout the generations for daring to make a mockery of our traditions.”
“Oh…”
Tamil burst into a fit of giggles. “You should have seen your face!” His tone dropped to a mocking pitch. “Deeply offensive.”
Mara laughed awkwardly. “So, that was a joke?”
“We line our eyes with charcoal so the desert sun won’t blind us. That’s all. It has no more significance than wearing sandals on our feet or suvalis on our bodies.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask… what’s your Gift?” Tamil grew quiet, and Mara twisted around on the stool so she could see him better. “What’s wrong?”
He reached up and tugged on his earlobe. “It’s just… I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad.” She poked him in the side. Remembering the odd tapestry of the woman with the snake, she guessed the most outlandish thing she could think of. “It’s not like you can shoot poison from your fingertips, right?”
Tamil jerked back, eyes widening. “Yes.”
“Wait . . . what?”
“I’m a Venelo, which means I can—"
The door to her chamber burst open, and Tamil dropped to his knees. Mara spun around as Cadmus stormed into her room, followed by two disciples she didn’t recognize. A vein bulged in his forehead, and his jaw clenched from barely restrained fury. She jumped to her feet and retreated until her back hit the wall. Cadmus had always been calm and collected. Even when he threatened to disembowel someone, he did it was a cool façade and a smile on his thin lips. But this? She didn’t know how to handle an enraged Cadmus. Apparently the disciples, who were shuffling their feet and exchanging nervous glances, were equally as clueless.
“Where is my fool of a son?” he demanded in a quiet voice that was far more threatening than if he’d shouted. Cadmus stepped over Tamil’s prone form and stalked across the room, close enough that Mara could feel his hot breath on her face.
“I don’t know.” Mara lowered her eyes, hoping she looked submissive enough to be convincing. “I haven’t seen him since he returned me to my room after dinner.”
His black eyes glinted. “Haven’t you?”
Mara pressed her lips together, trying not to think of the black-cloaked figure who had helped the dregs to escape. Had he discovered they were missing? Cadmus narrowed his eyes, and Mara forced her mind to go blank. Ethan had helped her, even when she’d repaid him with violence and anger. Even though she couldn’t trust him yet, she refused to give him away. Time for a diversion. She gestured to the Augeo, proudly displayed around his neck, and said, “Shouldn’t you know? I mean, isn’t that supposed to boost your abilities?”
It didn’t work.
“Search the room.”
The disciples marched through the room, emptying the wardrobe and looking under the bed before heading to the bathroom. She heard bangs and general shuffling as the disciples ransacked the room. After a few minutes, they returned empty-handed.
“It’s clear, Head Magi,” they said with bowed heads.
“Hmm . . .” was all Cadmus said before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room with the force of a hurricane.
Mara shuffled over to the stool and sat back down. What was that all about? Had Ethan fled with the dregs? Maybe he thought that Cadmus would figure it out—that he could see it—and he needed to run while he could, even if it meant leaving her behind. The thought sent despair coursing through her gut. Had he really abandoned her after promising to get her out?
Tamil sat up slowly and released his pent-up breath. “Are you all right, Impriga?” he asked, reverting back to the formal address, no doubt feeling shaken from Cadmus’s search.
“I’m fine.” A scraping noise, followed by a thud, sounded from the powder room. Mara froze. “What was that?”
The door to the bathroom flung open with a bang and Mara shrieked. Ethan strolled inside, glancing around the room before he smiled. “He’s gone then?”
“Ethan? You scared the snot out of me! What were you doing in my bathroom?”
“Testing a theory.” He winked at Tamil before making himself right at home on her bed.
“What theory? That you’re going to get yourself—and probably me as well— killed? Cadmus is going to wring your neck when he finds you. How did you even get up here? And why didn’t the disciples see you?”
“I climbed. When I was a child, I would scale the Magi building on a daily basis to escape my classes. Drove my nanny insane.” Ethan laughed from the memory. “As to why they didn’t see me, well, I wasn’t inside at the moment. You have a slight ledge outside your window that is perfect for birds to perch on or disgraced Magi to hang from. Besides, you don’t need to worry. Cadmus won’t breathe a word of this to anyone—he won’t want them to know that I foiled him again.”
“You have exactly thirty seconds to explain yourself before I open that door and scream for help because a crazy man just climbed through my window. And get your boots off my bed! I have to sleep there, you know.”
Ethan grumbled but did as she asked, swinging his feet off the bed as he sat up. “I can’t tell you too much.” He held up a hand as she protested. “Trust me. You don’t want to know what he’ll do if he knows you have information he wants. Let’s just say that I found a way to mask your movements and thoughts for a short time.”
Mara’s mind raced with the possibilities. The implications of what he said made her forget that Tamil stood across the room and she blurted out, “So that’s how you managed to free the dregs? This is amazing! What are we waiting for? Let’s esc—”
Ethan launched himself off the bed and wrapped a hand around her mouth. “Shh. You never know who might be listening.” He tipped his head toward Tamil. “Besides, the effects wear off after a few minutes. Just long enough to confuse him, but not nearly enough time for a lengthy trip.”
This was the second time that he had covered her mouth, and it was irritating enough that if he did it again, she just might bite him. She crossed her arms and gave him an incredulous look until he removed the offending hand.
She lowered her voice and whispered, “It worked long enough for you to help those dregs, or are you going to tell me it wasn’t you?”
Ethan glanced at Tamil for a long minute, as if he were deciding whether he should hear it or not. Mara could have kicked herself. Even though she’d known the boy for such a short time, she got the sense that they could trust him—he didn’t like Cadmus any more than she did, and he certainly wasn’t here willingly. But that wasn’t the problem. If they did run away, Cadmus would certainly torture Tamil for information. Then and there, she decided to take him with her if they had the opportunity to run.
Appearing to come to the same conclusion as she had, Ethan said, “That wasn’t the same thing. They aren’t as valuable as you.” Something must have crossed her expression, because Ethan quickly added, “Not that I don’t think they’re lives are worth any less. I’m saying that in Cadmus’s mind, what’s a handful of dregs? Tovaline,” he spat her name like it tasted foul, “can always capture more. If you were to escape, he would have a literal army on your heels with every Veniet in his employ at the front. They wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t rest until you were back in his custody. And you really don’t want to know what he does with deserters. It’s not worth the risk, not with only a few minutes guaranteed.”
Mara weighed his words carefully. “So, what do we do now?”
“Oh, so it’s we now?” He tilted his head and smirked. “Should I assume you no longer wish to strangle me?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” she
deadpanned.
“What a relief. Please remind me to sleep with my eyes open for the foreseeable future then. For now, I’ll continue to work on the formula until it’s perfected. You will cater to Cadmus’s demands until then.” He cut off her protest. “Not too easily, mind you. He’ll see right through that. Throw in enough grumbling to keep his suspicions at bay.”
“I do not grumble,” Mara grumbled.
“Whatever you say. Now, get dressed.”
“Where are we going?”
“To begin your lessons, of course. Oh,” he gestured to the pile of clothing that decorated the floor, “gray robes, please.”
“I am not wearing disciple robes.”
“Of course you are. It’s what all disciples wear.” The sound of heavy footsteps from the hall reached their ears and Ethan’s care-free expression peeled from his face. He raced toward the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “Meet you in the courtyard in ten minutes!”
Mara sat on the edge of the bed and arranged her face into what she hoped was an innocent expression just as the first disciple catapulted through to door, weapon drawn. Three more followed on his heels, eyes darting around the room.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?”
The first disciple looked properly abashed. “My apologies, Impriga. We thought we heard voices.”
“Tamil and I were talking about what I should wear for my lessons this morning. Should I expect armed guards to disturb my privacy every time I speak, or should I solve the matter by staying mute for the rest of my life?”
“Our apologies. We won’t disturb you again.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as they had gone, Mara rushed to the window and peered down. She could have sworn she saw Ethan wink at her before he disappeared behind the disciple building.
Whatever he was planning, she hoped it would work.
The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus Page 38