The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  7

  Mara spotted Ethan in the courtyard, sitting in the open on the edge of the fountain, talking with a young boy in light blue robes—a novice. If he was worried about Cadmus’s behavior this morning, he didn’t show it. The way he was reclining against the polished stone made her think that if Cadmus himself stormed out and ordered his arrest, Ethan wouldn’t bat an eyelash. She glanced around the nearby buildings. Even though the courtyard was crowded with disciples and acolytes, none paid attention to them. Had he actually gotten away with it?

  She scratched her arms through the sleeves of her gray robes. Were they supposed to be this itchy? What genius decided that their robes should be made of wool? No wonder all the disciples she’d met acted like they had a perpetual stick up their—

  “Mara!” Ethan waved her over. “I’d like you to meet Lucas. He’s one of the novice Magi.”

  She cast Lucas a sidelong glance. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You’re the Impriga that everyone’s been talking about!” The boy’s eyes bulged out of his head. Mara couldn’t decide if he was terrified of her, or morbidly excited. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

  “Guilty.” She shifted uncomfortably. Being recognized by Gift rather than name was getting old. Was this how all Gifted felt? She shot a panicked look at Ethan. Weren’t they supposed to have a lesson? Boring history had to be preferable to being interrogated by an overly-curious child, right?

  “Is it true that you can shoot light from your fingertips and blow stuff up?”

  Flustered, Mara paused. How was she supposed to respond to that?

  Thankfully, Ethan came to her rescue. “Lucas was just telling me how he’s excelling in his classes.”

  The boy puffed up from the praise. “That’s right! I was able to have my first, full vision last week. Not even Quinn can do that yet. Check this out!” He darted forward, catching Mara around the wrist. She jerked from the unexpected contact, but that was nothing compared to his reaction. Lucas’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he let out a high-pitched keen as his knees buckled beneath him.

  Mara tried pulling her arm free, but his nails dug into her skin, refusing to let go. As the boy continued to scream, she could feel dozens of eyes train on her as the surrounding disciples took notice of what was happening. Somehow, she didn’t think that this was a normal reaction to a vision.

  Ethan’s face drained of color. He jumped up and pried the boy’s fingers from her wrist like crooked nails from a board. Almost immediately, Lucas straightened, his eyes returning to normal. Mara cradled her hand, gently rubbing the crescent-shaped imprints. Ethan took a deep breath and ran a shaking hand across his face. He reached out to grip the boy’s shoulders, and scolded, “Lucas, you know better than to Read someone without permission.”

  “I-I’m sorry.” His face flushed, eyes swelling with tears.

  “What did you see?”

  “I saw . . . I saw . . .” The boy shuddered. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t tell Magi David.”

  “Shh, it’s fine. No harm done.” Ethan knelt before the boy and pinned him with a concerned expression. “Just breathe.”

  “Yes, Magi Ethan. It’s just . . .” He glanced up at Mara, eyes wide.

  “Would you like to show me?” Ethan held out his hand, not in a pushy way, just waiting.

  Reluctantly, he held out his hand, allowing Ethan to take it. Ethan closed his eyes for a minute, then smiled. “Ah, I can see why you’re upset. Remember what I taught you? The future is constantly changing. What you saw is only a possible future, but there’s no guarantee that it will happen. It’s not something that you should fret about.”

  Relief flooded the boy’s face.

  “Now, why don’t you run along? I’m sure you’re late for your lessons, and Magi David isn’t known for being forgiving.” Ethan gave him a sympathetic smile.

  Lucas bowed low. As the boy scampered away, Ethan’s face pulled into a frown.

  Mara gnawed on her lip, her trepidation growing. Did the boy have a vision of her? What had he seen? Oh, no. Did she hurt someone in the vision? But then, Ethan had said that the future could change, and whatever he’d seen might not happen. Mara placed a hand on his arm, trying to ignore the panic churning in her gut. “What you said to Lucas . . . was it true?”

  Ethan smiled, but the gesture seemed forced, not quite reaching his eyes. “It’s nothing we need to worry about, that’s all.”

  “I didn’t realize that Magi can share thoughts like that.”

  “We can’t, at least not in the way you’re thinking,” Ethan said. Her face must have shown her confusion because he tilted his head and continued, “Rather than see a full vision like we do when we Read, it’s more like . . . impressions. Glimpses. Think of a dream. While you’re asleep, you might see the dream play out without interruption, but when you wake up all you remember are fragments.”

  “What did he see?”

  “I wouldn’t grasp the full picture unless you allowed me to Read you.”

  “Do you truly need my permission?”

  “Technically, no. But I won’t invade your privacy like that if you’d prefer.”

  “But you told Lucas . . .”

  “Those rules are in place to protect the novices, but do not apply once we are grown and can control our abilities. Could you imagine a five-year-old Ignis with free rein of his Gift? Without these restrictions for the young ones, the Order would be in shambles within a week.”

  “After all this time, the Order will be overpowered by an army of untrained children.” Mara laughed at the thought. Then she remembered . . . “You Read me when I was still in my cell.”

  “Ah . . . yes. Cadmus had announced that you had finally given in to his demands. I was upset and not thinking clearly. Though in all fairness, you did try to kill me a few minutes later. Perhaps that makes us even?”

  Mara pretended to mull it over, tapping her mouth with a finger. “I suppose…”

  “So, would you like to see?” He held his hand out.

  She started to bring her hand up to meet his, then paused, letting it hover between them. Did she want to know? What if the vision showed her losing control again?

  When he saw her hesitation, Ethan said, “Let me ask you something. Would knowing make you feel better, or would you agonize over it? What if by knowing, you set it into motion in your attempt to prevent it?”

  Her head jerked up in surprise. “Does that happen often?”

  “You’d be surprised, actually. It’s difficult to see your own destruction and not wish to do something—anything—to thwart it.”

  “He saw my destruction! Am I going to die?”

  “What?” Ethan’s mouth dropped open. “No! I was simply giving you an example. Even the most stoic of Magi have fallen to their own meddling. Sometimes it’s better to let the future unfold as it may.”

  Unsettled, Mara tried changing the subject. “Why did he bow to you? I understand bowing to Cadmus, but you? Doesn’t he realize you’ve been denounced?” She clamped her mouth shut, worried that she had offended him. Obviously Lucas would have known that Ethan had lost his position—the black robes were as good as a formal announcement. But rather than wear them with shame, Ethan seemed to take pride in his disgrace.

  “It’s a sign of respect for those in a higher position than him. Service and obedience are two of the six tenets of the Order, after all,” Ethan said with a wave of his hand. “You’ll learn the rules soon enough, archaic as they may be. Speaking of which, you should bow your head to every disciple who has taken their vows, as well as Fran, Arthur, and anyone else above your station. Come on, let me show you around.” He held out his arm as an invitation.

  Mara took it with only a slight hesitation. “So, how do you know Lucas?”

  Ethan pulled her away, weaving between the Guardian and Magi buildings toward the outbuildings. “I had a brief yet unforgettable stint as a teacher several months ago. Cadmus decided to force me on their poor, burgeo
ning minds for only one class, thankfully.” His eyes grew vacant, as though he were reliving the memory. “That was the day I left for Stonehollow.”

  “He seems to be doing well,” she said politely.

  “Much better than back then. He’s come a long way these past few months. I was worried for—” He stopped, seeming to remember himself. “Apologies, I shouldn’t burden you with these things.”

  “Why were you worried?”

  Ethan went quiet, apparently debating whether or not he should tell her more. Was he struggling to trust her as much as she struggled to trust him? After a minute he said, “Our novice Magi come from all over the continent to receive their formal training. Lucas was born in a small town in Aravell. When he arrived, it was obvious that his training had been neglected, and he wasn’t thriving under the Order’s tutelage.”

  “Is that all?” Mara asked. That seemed like a silly thing to be worried about.

  “You don’t quite understand. The Head Magi has a tendency to cull the weakest if they fail to meet expectations.”

  Mara gasped. “He would . . .”

  “Yes.”

  Just when she thought Cadmus couldn’t get more evil, more depraved, she heard things like this. She needed to get out of here, with or without Ethan’s help. If Cadmus was willing to kill one of his own Magi, a child, for something that was no fault of their own, he would absolutely follow through on his threat to kill her parents.

  Ethan led her through the different outbuildings, pointing out only the most important features in each one. Most of the children were born here at Headquarters, with one or more parents already working within the Order. They grew up in the smaller houses and buildings on the premises until their training began. Several, however, were born elsewhere and sent here for various reasons. While Ethan didn’t say it outright, Mara knew that many children were hostages, used as leverage to ensure their families cooperated with the Order. Just like Tamil.

  Outside of the nursery wing where the squalls of infants penetrated the thin walls, Mara paused as a horrible thought occurred to her. “Ethan, are all the mothers here by choice?”

  “Yes,” he replied quietly. “Though sometimes that choice is only preferable to the alternative.”

  Just like her. The only reason she agreed to work with Cadmus was to save her family. What leverage did he have over these women? Would they leave if they had the chance?

  Ethan, as though he could see where her thoughts were going, said, “Come on, there’s more to see before the midday meal, and then you’ll be training with the disciples.”

  Of all the outbuildings she toured, the greenhouses were her favorite. She loved feeling the life around her and the smell of the plants. There were five main greenhouses to sustain the main food for the Order for over the winter. Once spring thawed the ground, the seedlings would move outside to grow a larger quantity of food to store. Two additional greenhouses held year-round exotic foods from the southern climates, like lemons and oranges. She was particularly excited to try the oranges.

  As they headed toward the novice building, Ethan explained the different branches of the Order and how they worked together in harmony.

  The Order turned out to be far more complex than she’d ever imagined. Each branch represented one of the six tenets of the Order: servitude, education, discovery, obedience, protection, and leadership. Children began their training as novices at the age of five. They spent a year serving a disciple and began developing their Gifts. At seven, they moved to Initiate. At twelve, they graduated to Acolytes. Then, most became disciples at eighteen, though, some who excelled were moved up early.

  “So why did Cadmus call me a disciple when I haven’t had any training?”

  “Would you prefer to be placed in a class with the novices?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Regardless, it wouldn’t happen. They’re too terrified of you to concentrate.” When her face fell, Ethan scrambled on. “I didn’t intend that to be an insult. You are well above their skill level, so it would be like tossing a fox into a warren of rabbits.”

  After a brief glimpse of the Initiate and Acolyte buildings, they walked together into the Disciple building. Mara couldn’t help the smile that split her face when she saw the décor. Every inch of the walls was covered in tapestries and paintings. Thick rugs blanketed the wooden floors. It felt like a gaggle of Farbers and Articae had vomited all over the space—in the best way possible.

  “This is amazing. Where did it come from?”

  “All over the continent. When a child comes here, they bring pieces of their culture with them. It’s the one thing Cadmus can’t take away, no matter how hard he tries. Arthur spends the better portion of his days tearing it down, and within hours, the disciples redecorate. It’s quite satisfying to watch, actually.”

  Mara flashed him a huge smile. This room, more than anything, was proof that her situation wasn’t hopeless. There was dissension in the Order, and with some encouragement, it could grow.

  “If you think this is great, wait until you see this.” Ethan took her arm gently and pulled her around the corner.

  A dark gray sheet hung from the ceiling, flowing down until the edges brushed the floor. Compared to the colorful mishmash of artwork in the previous room, this was a bit of a letdown. “Um, these are . . . nice drapes?”

  Ethan grinned, grabbing the edge of the cloth and giving it a firm tug.

  She gasped.

  Bright light flowed through spacious windows and illuminated a floor-to-ceiling mosaic. Colorful sparks of yellow, red, and blue danced across her skin as she approached, reaching a hand out to brush the imbedded crystals. Up close, they were nothing but random splotches of color, but from a distance, the colors merged into the image of a woman with flowing, golden hair. Swirls of white surrounded her outstretched hands, and at her feet, were six unmistakable towers.

  Mara pressed a hand to her mouth.

  “I wanted you to see this before Arthur has it destroyed.”

  “Is this . . . is this me? Why would the disciples create this?”

  “You give them hope,” Ethan said simply. “For so long, the Order has reigned unquestioned. Some of the young ones cause mischief where they can, but no one has challenged the Head Magi before. Not like this. You seem surprised.”

  Guilt flooded her, and she wrapped her arms around her belly. “I… I never stopped to think of them as people. I cut them down without considering that they might not be here by choice. What kind of person does that make me?”

  “It makes you human. Everyone makes mistakes, Mara, though, some are more spectacular than others. You can’t allow this to destroy you.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, lowering his head until he was level with her eyes. “You can’t go back and change the past. You can only focus on your choices moving forward. This doesn’t make you a terrible person.”

  “How can you be so sure?” she whispered, blinking back tears.

  “Because I know you. When I look at you, I don’t see the Impriga who brought to Order to its knees. I see Mara. The girl who snuck out at night to bring food to a lonely dreg and defended him when no one else would. I see the woman who ran into an impossible fight to save a friend.” He cupped her jaw with his hand and smiled softly. “I see someone who will take on the world at the first sign of injustice.”

  Her heart fluttered, and she leaned into his touch, starved for some kindness after weeks of loneliness. It only served to confuse her more. She shouldn’t have these feelings for a Magi, no matter how friendly he appeared to be. No, it was only a reflex, that’s all. Casual affection was normal between friends in Stonehollow. She and Ethan were allies, and nothing more. Not wanting to give him the wrong idea, she pulled back and took a step away, needing to put some distance between them. “So, is there more to see?”

  Mara winced as the tenderness fled from Ethan’s face, replaced with a carefully blank mask.

  “As you wish.” He gestured to t
he doorway.

  Ethan led her into the new Guardian building. Mara’s feet clacked against the cold stone floors as she passed rows of closed wooden doors and bare walls. Whereas the Magi building was designed with an extravagance that bordered on sickening, the Guardian building was depressing in its simplicity. Mara wasn’t sure if that was a necessity born from the quick construction, or if they preferred the shadowed hallways with only the occasional candle to keep darkness at bay. Perhaps it was simply a reflection of who the Guardians were at heart.

  “There’s not much in this building, as you can see. I don’t know if you realize this, but Guardians and Magi are the only two groups of Gifted whose roles are decided from birth. At five years of age, they spend one year in the Novice building, receiving their basic education and serving the disciples—though few disciples are actually comfortable being in close quarters with an untrained Guardian. Then, they move here and are mentored by Fran or one of the other senior Guardians.” Ethan turned left down another hallway. Light trickled out of a doorway up ahead, and Mara realized it was open.

  A boy who looked no older than seventeen with deep copper skin and long, black dreadlocks, sat in a wooden chair with his bare arm stretched across a table. Fran sat across from him, holding a long metal tube. She dipped the pointed tip in a pot of ink, then poked it into his skin with precise, downward strokes as though she were sewing.

  Mara recoiled in fear at the sight of the tattoos, but the look on the boy’s tear-streaked face made her freeze. It wasn’t pain that filled his eyes or made him grimace. It was hatred, whether for the woman marking him, for himself, or for the marks themselves, she didn’t know. She couldn’t bring herself to care. Each mark on their arms represented a life that the Order had stolen.

  The walls pressed in around her, and she found it hard to breathe. Grabbing Ethan by the wrist, Mara pulled him back out toward the courtyard before they were noticed.

  Ethan’s face pinched in concern. “What’s wrong?”

  She wasn’t quite sure herself. After a long moment, Mara said, “I didn’t realize the tattoos were made by hand. I thought they appeared by—”