The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  A mile or two might have passed, she couldn’t be certain. The faint trickling of a stream reached her ears, and she adjusted her course. Her dry throat burned, and her legs dragged from fatigue. Mara stumbled toward the sound and collapsed by the shallow river bank. Ice framed the outer edges of the stream. She picked up a rock and broke a hole through the ice, then scooped a handful of the icy water to her lips.

  Mara dried her hands on the hem of her gray robes, pulling the scratchy fabric away from her body. When she found a village, she would have to steal some clothes, too. As much as she hated the idea, traveling in Order robes would sabotage her efforts to blend in. It would be worth it, she decided. Once she reached Stonehollow, she’d find a way to send money north to pay for the things she’d take.

  A branch broke to her left, and Mara shied away from the sound. An animal, or had they found her so soon? No! She couldn’t go back. Her heart thudded in her chest—so loud, it threatened to give away her position. She scanned the naked trees, expecting to see a hoard of disciples march through at any moment. Dropping to her knees, she scrambled for anything she could use as a weapon. Why didn’t she grab a bow or a knife in the training yard? Her hand closed around a thin branch. Worthless. The sunlight trickling through the trees glinted off the cool metal of her Deleos, and she ground her teeth in frustration. If she could access her Gift, she wouldn’t need a weapon at all.

  A whistle pierced the silence. A bird? Mara backed up until she pressed against a tree. She peeked around the side, hoping to spot whatever had made the sound. Maybe she was overreacting. There were plenty of animals that made their homes in the forest after all.

  The screech was her only warning before talons flashed in her face. Mara shrieked, raising her arms to cover her head. The bird dove in for another attack, its talons slicing through her robes and into her flesh. Another whistle sounded, and the bird flew away. Mara squinted through her fingers. Not just a bird. A hawk. Was that . . . Zeke? Her eyes widened. If Zeke were here, that meant . . .

  Something sharp bit into her side just below her ribs, and Mara froze. She raised her hands and turned her head slowly, holding her breath so the blade didn’t pierce her skin. Oona stood behind her, smirking maliciously.

  “Running away, were we?” she purred. “How shocking. And what would our esteemed Head Magi think about that?”

  “Please, Oona. You have to let me go. You don’t understand—”

  “Oh, I understand perfectly. You were trying to desert us. Do you want to know what the Head Magi does with runaways?” She chuckled under her breath. “He might go easy on you, considering you haven’t taken your vows yet. But then again, maybe not.”

  Mara gritted her teeth. This was a waste of time! If she were unrestrained, she could have overpowered Oona in seconds. Stupid Deleos. “Cadmus threatened to destroy Stonehollow if I didn’t cooperate.”

  “So you gave him a reason to act? How selfish can you be?”

  “I’m trying to warn them! Your family lives there, too. Don’t you care about what happens to them?”

  “All the more reason to get you back to Headquarters.” Oona whistled, and Zeke flew over their heads, landing on a low-hanging branch. His black eyes zeroed in on Mara. Oona pulled a length of rope out of her robes. “I’m going to bind your hands. If you fight, Zeke will attack, and this time, I won’t call him off.”

  Mara seethed as Oona wrapped the rope around her wrists, tying them so tight that it cut off her circulation. “Why are you doing this? What did I do to you that made you hate me this much?”

  Oona barked out a humorless laugh. “You don’t get it, do you? After all this time . . . you took everything from me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Ansel.”

  “Ansel?” His name sent a jolt through Mara’s body, followed by a wave of grief as the memories flowed through her mind. Her throat constricted. “What does he have to do with this?”

  “I loved him. Ever since we were children, I dreamed of marrying him and raising a family together. You stole that from me!” To Mara’s shock, Oona started crying.

  “But . . . he didn’t like you like that.”

  “We never had the chance to find out. He was too busy running off with you to ever notice me. The day the elders announced our betrothal was the happiest day of my life. I thought I would finally get my happy ending. And then you had to ruin it.”

  “By not dying?”

  “By getting in my way! He never would have left Stonehollow if it weren’t for you. He was happy there. I would have made him happy!”

  “Oona, I’m truly sorry that he’s gone. If I could swap places with him, I would do it in a heartbeat. He was strong, and loyal, and brave. He was everything. But I can’t change what happened, and neither can you. I know you care about your family. Please, I need to get home to Stonehollow to warn them.”

  Oona paused for a moment, as if she were seriously considering her words. Then she shook her head, lip curling in a sneer. “The only place you’re going is back to Headquarters to face punishment. Now, walk!”

  ***

  Cadmus waited on the steps of the Magi building with his hands clasped behind him and a smirk on his face. Dread bloomed inside her gut, making her feet feel like boulders as she shuffled closer. Oona’s knife pressed into her back—a warning if she tried to run.

  A crowd had gathered, whether out of curiosity or by design. The faces were filled with disgust, but a few looked at her with… pity? More than anything else, that scared her. What would he do because she tried to escape? A wave of panic flew through her. Would he punish her family anyway? Did she just make a huge mistake?

  She should have waited for Ethan.

  Oona shoved her to her knees in front of Cadmus. Mara tilted her head back to watch him approach.

  “You were warned,” he said simply.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I don’t believe you are.”

  “Please, don’t hurt my family,” she begged, swallowing her pride in the hope that he would show mercy. “I’ll do anything.”

  “Oh, Mara, I won’t hurt them. Yet.” He stepped closer and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You are mine. No matter how much you fight it, you belong to the Order.”

  He gestured to someone behind her, and they grabbed her arms, dragging her inside the Magi building and down the familiar stairs. As they passed her old room, she glanced into the cell next to hers. Empty. Where had they taken Opal? Did Cadmus have her killed once she outlived her usefulness?

  The disciples pulled her down a hallway to the right and toward a metal door. Mara dragged her feet. Whatever happened behind that door was not something she wanted to experience. But the harder she struggled, the more forceful they were until she finally hung limp, forcing them to pull her dead weight.

  “Stop fighting! The sooner you accept this, the quicker it will be over,” the disciple on the left said in a deep, masculine voice.

  “You think you’re the first disciple he’s beaten for trying to escape?” a woman asked, adding a throaty laugh.

  Mara jerked. It only confirmed what Ethan had said. She blinked up at the female disciple. She had warm sepia skin and black hair that crowned her head like a fluffy cloud. While she wore confidence like armor, Mara could sense something simmering beneath her no-nonsense exterior.

  They pulled her through the doorway. The room was bare save for a wooden table on one side and a pole on the other. Her eyes widened at the array of weapons and whips hanging on the wall. She shuddered at the drain in the center of the room. She knew what this room was for—torture.

  They dragged her forward, looping her arms through the chains on the pole. It was wide enough to hold onto, but too big that she couldn’t connect her hands behind it.

  “Try not to tense. That makes it worse,” the female disciple said with a grim expression. “I’d go easy on you but then he’d flog me, too. I’d prefer to never go through that again. Uh
, I don’t suppose that makes you feel better.”

  “What’s your name?” Mara asked, wondering why she was trying to help her.

  “I’m—”

  “Ella, thank you.” Cadmus stepped inside the door, surveying the room with a satisfied expression on his face. He crouched beside Mara. “For desertion, first offense, the punishment is thirty lashes.”

  The disciple, Ella, walked over to the rack of whips and reached for a single-stranded whip.

  “No, not that one. Use the Starsong.”

  “But that will—”

  “Would you care to join disciple Mara on the pole?” Cadmus asked, his voice rumbling dangerously.

  “No, sir.” Ella grabbed a whip with six strands, each tipped with a metal barb. She approached Mara with a look of regret for what she was about to do.

  Cadmus stood in front of the pole. He took the whip from Ella and ran an affectionate hand down the handle before giving it back to the disciple. “My grandfather invented this whip. Everything, from the length of the cords to the addition of the barbs, was designed to maximize the pain a disobedient disciple will feel. Would you like to know why he named it the Starsong? Look at me.”

  Mara kept her eyes firmly on the ground, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

  He gripped her chin, wrenching it upwards until she was forced to look into his eyes. “Each strand represents a different branch of the Order and the tenets we stand for.” He chuckled under his breath. “And it makes rebellious disciples sing from the first lash.”

  Cadmus dusted off his silver robes and walked over to the rack. He selected a knife and approached Mara, slicing open the back of her robes. She shivered as the cold air hit her exposed back.

  “Begin.”

  10

  Barely hanging onto consciousness, Mara registered strong arms and the gentle swaying of being carried somewhere. It was like being in a dream. The squeak of a door opening. Being laid face-down on something soft. She cracked her eyes open and moaned. Her back was on fire. Each breath sent sharp pain through her torso like hot irons. Tears pooled under her face, and she choked on a sob. Stupid. She should never have tried to escape.

  Was there even an emergency? Knowing Cadmus, he had probably set the whole thing up as a trap, just so he could punish her.

  “Hold still.” Ethan pulled away the fabric of her robes and carefully peeled it back, allowing cool air to soothe the worst of the stings. He muttered a curse under his breath.

  Tamil dropped to the floor next to her bed and pressed his forehead against hers. “She’s going to be okay, right, Ethan?”

  “It’s not the worst I’ve seen,” he replied after a long pause. “But they completely shredded her back. I need a bowl of water and some clean rags. Then, run to my room and get the jar of salve I have in my bathroom.”

  He pulled a vial out of his robes and unstopped the cap before handing it to her, cradling her hand when it shook. “Drink this. It will dull the pain.”

  She swallowed it, wincing at the bitter taste. For all she knew, it could have been poisoned, but then again, death might be preferable to living with this pain. She squeezed her eyes shut and rasped, “H-h-healer?”

  Ethan waited until Tamil had left the room before answering. The sound of running water covered his whispered response. “I’m sorry, but no Healer would touch you now. Not for at least a day and a night. Otherwise, they would risk Cadmus turning his wrath on them.”

  “Why are you helping me then? Aren’t you afraid?” Mara lifted her head up to glance back at him, wincing as the movement stretched her wounds. Fresh blood trickled down her back. Right, she needed to lie still until her injuries were treated.

  Shock, anger, and sadness crossed his face—so fast she almost missed it. His eyebrows pinched together, and he stared at her for a long minute, weighing her with his gaze. Was he struggling to trust her as much as she was with him? A resigned mask snapped into place, concealing his emotions yet again. She wished she could take back the question and tell him it was fine, it wasn’t her business. To peel back the layers that protected him. But she couldn’t. For that one vulnerable moment, she had seen the real Ethan. Though she knew he would never admit it, Mara understood the truth. He was afraid.

  Without a word, he stood and walked to the head of the bed, facing the far wall. Her face flamed as he untied the knots at the side of his robes, then slid them off his shoulders to expose his back.

  Mara sucked in a gasp. Layers of irregular scars covered his skin like deep grooves in tree bark. Most were silvered with age, but many still held the baby-pink flush of being freshly healed. He had been whipped? Shoulders stiff, Ethan stood quietly, allowing her to gawk openly without interruption. She wanted to reach out and trace them with her fingers but all she could do was choke out a strangled, “Why?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He pulled his robes up and knotted them in place. “He controls others through fear.”

  Tamil hurried back in the room with a bowl in his hands and a rag tucked under his arm. Water sloshed over the rim with each step and spilled on the carpet. Oblivious to the tension, he set it on the bed stand before racing out of the room.

  The second the door clicked shut, Mara pounced. “No, not that. I understood that the moment I met him. Why did he beat you? You’re his son!”

  Ethan snorted “Do you honestly believe that matters?” He sat on the edge of the bed and dipped a rag in the hot water. “If anything, our unfortunate relation makes his punishments harsher, both for me and Tovaline. We pay in blood every time we step out of line.”

  Mara hissed as he pressed the rag to her back. Her hands fisted in the sheets, and her tone came out sharper than she intended. “I don’t understand how you can stand it. Why do you stay here if he treats you this way?”

  “Where would I go?”

  “Somewhere. Anywhere. Gods, that stings!” She clenched her jaw, waiting for the pain to ease. “Even Lingate would be better. I can’t imagine having to endure that your entire life.”

  “Can’t you?” he asked quietly. His eyes wandered to her shoulder where Magi Samuel had stabbed her as a child. Ethan brushed the faded scar with his knuckle, sending shivers down her spine. “Are you suggesting that you were loved and accepted for being a dreg in Stonehollow?”

  “That was different,” she said, hackles raising. His question was almost accusatory, and she felt the need to defend her home.

  “I can’t see how.”

  “For starters, my parents never beat me,” she spat. “I was loved. They made our home a refuge—a place where I would always be safe and protected, even when the rest of the village despised me. How depraved does someone have to be to whip their own son?”

  “He doesn’t see it that way. For him, it’s necessary. It’s the way Cadmus’s grandfather raised him.”

  Her brows knitted in confusion. “His grandfather? What happened to his father?”

  “Executed, for having an affair with a Seer.”

  “What?” She bolted upright, eyes going wide.

  “Lay down before you reopen your wounds more,” Ethan said, applying gentle pressure to her shoulders. She relented, sinking back into her mattress. When had he turned into such a mother hen? “Magi Marcus had been groomed to take over the Order after his father, Cadmus’s grandfather. Then, on a short trip south, he met a Seer living in the village there. Eventually, duty required that he return to Order Headquarters, and he cut off contact with her. He probably would have gotten away with it, but a year later, she showed up with a baby, claiming he was the father. The Head Magi had him executed the next day.”

  “And the mother?”

  “She managed to get away, but she left the baby—Cadmus—behind, claiming that he should be raised among his own kind.”

  “I wonder who she was,” she mused, not really expecting an answer. A Seer! No wonder Cadmus was so tight-lipped. For an organization that had hunted Seers for over a century, it must sting
to know their blood flowed through his veins.

  “According to our records, she was originally from a settlement in Tregydar.”

  “Opal!”

  “Lay back down, woman! I can’t clean your wounds properly if you keep sabotaging my efforts.”

  “I can’t lay still if you keep dropping these kinds of revelations on me!”

  Ethan’s mouth twisted in a devious smile. “I could simply stop talking until after you’re bandaged up.”

  “Fine. Fine! I promise I won’t move again.” Mara rolled her eyes, but she managed to hold still as he ran the wet cloth across her damaged skin. “So . . . Opal?”

  “No, not her.” Ethan shook his head. “It was her twin sister, Ruby.”

  Ruby . . . Mara thought back to the quirky old Seer from Oxrest who had spoken in riddles. At the time, she and Ansel had disregarded her prophecies as mindless ramblings. That is until they started coming true. Not for the first time, Mara wondered what had happened to Ruby to cause the loss of her sanity. Whatever it was, Cadmus had a role in it, no doubt. “Is that why Cadmus can Read the future without needing to touch someone? Because his father was a Magi and his mother is a Seer?”

  Ethan shrugged. “It’s the only theory that makes sense.”

  “Let me guess. He feels ashamed of his parentage and takes it out on you? And your sister,” she tacked on begrudgingly. She wasn’t ready to forgive Tovaline for her role in Ansel’s death. Perhaps she never would.

  “That’s part of it, I’m sure. That, and the fact that we fail to measure up to his expectations. Tovaline was born a girl, rather than a Magi, and I was born a useless, ordinary Magi with severe authority issues. He hoped that I would inherit his Gift through his blood alone, but that obviously didn’t work. After Tovaline was born, he had his disciples search for a decade to find a young, fertile Seer, but if any still live, they are well-hidden. Regardless, it’s not as though he could bring one here for breeding purposes. The hostility toward their kind is overwhelming, and she would be killed within a week.”