The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  Oona shrieked. Mara whirled around and watched as the rock crumbled beneath the Avem’s feet. Oona jumped forward, landing on the next step. Her arms swung to the side as she lost her balance. The disciples nearest her pressed forward. Were they going to let her fall to her death? Mara stopped, letting Patrick brush by her, followed by the remaining disciples. Cowards.

  She was only ten feet away . . . could Mara help her? Oona pressed her back to the cliff wall. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Why wasn’t she moving? Was she frozen in fear?

  “Mara!” Ethan called back to her. “What are you doing?”

  Indecision rooted her in place. What could she do? If she helped Oona, there was a higher than average chance that they would both die. Another tremor shook the rocks and Mara’s stomach leapt to her throat.

  “Mara, you need to hurry! The Saxum won’t hold out much longer!”

  Ethan was right. Her body turned, and she took a small step toward the group. No one would blame her for saving herself. Oona would have to figure this out on her own. Mara hesitated. How could she live with herself if she did nothing?

  A skull-sized chunk of rock sloughed off the stairs. Oona’s eyes widened in terror as the shelf disappeared. For one, agonizing second, she hovered. Then she dropped.

  16

  “Mara, no!”

  Ignoring Ethan’s alarmed cry, Mara launched herself toward the falling Avem. The rocks scraped painfully against her belly as she skidded toward the edge. She darted her hand forward, clamping around Oona’s wrist. Her shoulder strained from the sudden jolt, threatening to pull her arm from its socket. The stairs shuddered beneath her, crumbling around the edges. Mara dug her boots into the rock to anchor herself. Could she hold the weight? She closed her eyes, refusing to look down. Please, stairs, don’t vanish just yet. A fall from this height would kill them both.

  Oona pumped her legs in the air and let out a hysterical wail. Mara slid closer to the edge.

  “Don’t move!” Mara gritted her teeth and pulled, bracing herself against the lip of the stairs.

  Sweat beaded on Mara’s forehead. Panting, she latched her other hand onto Oona’s arm and threw her weight backward. Her muscles burned, but she refused to let go. Slowly, she heaved her onto the step and away from the edge until they were safe. Well, relatively safe. Her eyes widened as the step flickered and disappeared. That was too close.

  Sobs wracking her body, Oona crawled to the cliff wall and curled up into a ball. Mara wished she could let her rest, but they weren’t out of danger yet.

  Mara glanced over her shoulder. The rest of the group had made it to the bottom and huddled around the base of the stairs. The Saxum was laying on the ground, both hands pressed against the cliff. He wouldn’t make it much longer.

  “Come on, we need to run.” Mara stood and held out her hand to Oona.

  Oona nodded and wound her hand into Mara’s, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. Together, they sprinted down the stairway, their feet flying over the rock. The stairs shuddered violently beneath them. Oona stumbled and crashed against the cliff. Mara wrapped her arm around Oona’s waist and pulled her along.

  “Twenty more feet!” Mara shouted the encouragement, willing her to move faster. Almost there. Fifteen feet away. The step lurched.

  Mara shrieked as the disciples pulled the Saxum away from the cliff and the stairs faded into nothing. They leapt off the side and slammed into the ground. Oona tucked into a roll, but Mara was less fortunate. Her ribs creaked in agony as the breath whooshed from her lungs. Black spots flooded her vision. She groaned.

  Footsteps thundered over the ground. Ethan dropped by her side while Tamil slipped up by her shoulders and cradled her head.

  Tamil whimpered and stroked her hair. “Are you all right, Impriga?”

  “Well, she’s not dead, so that’s a solid bonus.” Ella stomped over and rolled her eyes. “Mind giving me a head’s up next time you decide to impersonate a bird?”

  “Next time?” Mara wheezed. There would definitely not be a next time. If she had any say in the matter, she would keep her feet planted on the ground where they belonged. A near brush with death with one set of magic stairs was more than enough for her lifetime. She twisted her head, hoping to catch a glimpse of Oona. The Avem sat on the ground a few feet away, dusty but overall unharmed.

  “Is anything broken?” Ethan’s hands hovered over her body, as though he were afraid to touch her for fear of hurting her further.

  Mara wiggled her fingers and toes and stretched her limbs. Everything ached, but . . . “No, I don’t think so.”

  She tried to sit up, but Ethan pushed her back down. “Just . . . rest for a moment. Even though you’re feeling fine, you might have internal damage.” His eyes went blank, and he fisted his hands in his hair. He looked lost, like he didn’t know how to handle her being injured.

  Alex circled around her other side, throwing Ethan a sympathetic look. “We should probably have the Healer examine her, just in case.”

  Ethan nodded. “That’s a good idea. Sybil!” he called over to the group of disciples.

  A middle-aged woman with golden hair straightened and waltzed over, keeping her hands clasped before her. Though Ethan had identified her as one of the disciples who was on their side, the Healer had kept to herself. The marks of time had just begun to kiss her face, and she regarded Mara with a kind smile and warm eyes.

  “That was a very brave thing you did, young lady,” Sybil said as she knelt next to Ethan and brushed him out of the way. The Healer shook her hands out and held them out over Mara.

  “Oh!” Mara said.

  “What is it? Are you in pain?” Ethan reached for her, but the Healer smacked him away. He rocked back onto his heels and wrung his hands. Alex rested a hand on his shoulder.

  “Calm down and let me work, Magi. Honestly, you men are all so fussy,” the Healer huffed.

  Warmth spread from Mara’s head to her feet like sunshine or a hot cup of cocoa on a snowy midwinter day. She sighed, and her body melted into the earth as the pain in her ribs faded, leaving her feeling rejuvenated. When was the last time she’d been so relaxed? The Healer at Order Headquarters hadn’t been so thorough—he had only taken care of the wounds on her back.

  “Thank you, Healer.”

  “Please, call me Sybil.” The Healer reached out and tucked a wayward strand of Mara’s hair behind her ear, just like her mother had. Mara leaned into the maternal touch. “Let’s just hope there’ll be no more excitement until we reach Merrowhaven.”

  “Out of my way!”

  Sybil let out a sound of surprise as Oona elbowed the Healer to the side and jumped onto Mara, straddling her hips. She grabbed the front of Mara’s cloak and yanked her up until their noses touched. “You just had to be the hero, huh? What is wrong with you?”

  Mara blinked and pulled back. “Uh . . . you’re welcome?”

  “You could have died!”

  “You would have died if I did nothing.” Mara shoved the Avem off her lap, irritation coloring her vision red. “What is wrong with you?”

  The question seemed to snap the Avem from her rampage. Oona’s face scrunched up and she blinked quickly. “I wasn’t worth it,” she whispered. “You should have let me fall.”

  Mouth agape, Mara watched as Oona leapt to her feet and bolted out of sight. Ella leaned down and looped her arms through Mara’s, helping her to her feet.

  “Please . . . never do that again,” Ethan said, pulling her into an embrace.

  Mara stiffened a moment before relaxing into his arms. She turned her head, not wanting him to see how scared she’d been, and inhaled the rich smell of sandalwood and rosemary. Maybe it was the near-death experience heightening her senses, but Mara couldn’t help but notice how firm his muscles were beneath his cloak. Startled by her thoughts, she stepped away, her cheeks heating. “You know I can’t promise that.”

  “You should never have been in the position to begin with. There must be something . . .”
A thoughtful look crossed his face, then he stalked over to Patrick, his hand outstretched. “Give me the key to her Deleos. Now.”

  Patrick crossed his arms. “And why would I do something that stupid?”

  “Don’t toy with me, Armis. Had she been free, she could have helped the Saxum maintain the stairway. If we run into danger, she will be an asset.”

  “She is the danger!” Patrick snarled, holding his hand out to the side and flexing his fingers. The faint outline of his sword shimmered in the bright sunlight, but it didn’t fully manifest. “Stand down, Magi.”

  Appearing unafraid of being impaled, Ethan took a step forward. His voice lowered as he said, “She should have been freed the moment we left Order Headquarters and you know it. She’s not a prisoner, she’s not a disciple. She’s a Gifted citizen of Esterwyn. Now . . . Give. Me. The. Key.”

  Jaw clenched, Patrick reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a key. He deposited it in Ethan’s waiting hand before spitting at Mara’s feet. Patrick moved next to Tahlia, the Ignis, and whispered something in her ear. She nodded once and formed a head-sized fireball in her palm, smirking at Mara the whole time. So that’s why Patrick had given into Ethan’s demands so easily—Tahlia was his safety net. If she stepped out of line, Mara had no doubt that she would be incinerated in a heartbeat.

  Mara recoiled as Ethan walked over with a determined glint in his eyes. “Mara, give me your wrists.”

  She hesitated. Familiar fears raised their ugly heads. He seemed so sure about removing her cuffs, but the others didn’t share his confidence. She scanned the group, noting the way they retreated, the way their eyes widened and their skin paled. They were afraid of her still, and the weeks spent training with them had done nothing to change their minds.

  It wasn’t as though their fears were unwarranted. She wanted to reassure them that they had nothing to worry about, but the truth was, she didn’t know. She had earned every bit of their hatred and suspicion, and now she was paying for it.

  “Trust me,” Ethan said softly. He leaned forward, running a hand down her arm, leaving goosebumps behind. His expression was so open, so sincere, that she had to believe him. Why did he have so much faith in her? With an encouraging smile, Ethan tugged her hand forward and unlocked the Deleos, letting them fall to the ground.

  A rush of power surged through her body, causing her to double over. Mara closed her eyes and breathed it in, feeling it fill her completely. It spread through her veins and out the tips of her fingers. Awed gasps reached her ears, and she cracked her eyes open a sliver. White mist encircled her body, swirling around her feet in a cyclone of energy that pulsed with the steady beat of her heart.

  Standing a few feet away, Tamil gaped at her, his eyes the size of horses’ hooves.

  Mara’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t bear it if he were scared. With a thought, she absorbed the energy into her skin and turned to face the boy, staring at her feet. “Are you afraid of me now?”

  “Never,” Tamil said. He raced forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You’re magnificent, Impriga.”

  Mara blinked back tears and returned the embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s move out!” Patrick’s voice echoed in the ravine. He shot her one last scathing look before stomping toward the path.

  Wasting no time, the group shouldered their packs and filed after the Armis, looking more than a little anxious to put distance between them. Mara hung back. Light glinting off of metal caught her eye and she looked down at the Deleos resting in the dirt. What if she needed them? No, it was better to keep them—just in case. Slipping the cuffs into her pocket, Mara looped her satchel over her back and followed the others.

  17

  Wet socks were, by far, the worst things on the continent.

  And while wet socks didn’t make the top-ten list when compared to the horrors of the world, it was the only thing Mara could focus on at the moment. The way the soggy cloth squelched beneath her feet. The way it rubbed the back of her heel, sure to leave blisters.

  It wouldn’t have been so bad if they could make camp for the night, but Patrick insisted on driving them forward through the ravine, which was larger than she’d originally thought. They’d walked for hours, weaving between rock formations and wading through the shallow river that cut through the bottom. That same river where she’d stepped into a hole in the riverbed and water had flooded her boots.

  Her gaze slid to where Patrick marched at the back of the group. He’d given in way too easily when Ethan demanded the keys. If he truly thought she was a threat, he would have fought harder to keep her Gift restrained.

  Tamil squeezed her hand, his brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Mara forced a smile. How did she ever earn this sweet boy’s loyalty? She loved him like a little brother, and she would do everything in her power to reunite him with his father. Realizing that her terse response was drawing even more attention, she decided to change the subject. “So, what are you most looking forward to when we reach Merrowhaven?”

  “I . . . I’m not sure.” Tamil frowned and tugged on his earring. “My father said the people of Esterwyn are a bunch of blasphemous heathens who turned their back on the gods in favor of money and worldly things. I don’t think I’m allowed to look forward to anything.”

  Alex guffawed. “Well, he’s half right. Let’s hope he never has a chance to visit Aravell—he’d probably die of shock considering they’ve banned all worship of the gods. Compared to Aravell, Esterwyn is downright pious. They do have the Sacred Mile, after all.”

  “What’s the Sacred Mile?” Mara asked, anxious to hear more about the capital. Other than talking about his more prosperous trades, her father had been tight-lipped about his trips to Merrowhaven. He certainly hadn’t mentioned the Sacred Mile.

  Ethan turned. “It’s a mile-long stretch in the city that’s set apart for worship. The emperor prides himself in having a temple for every known god and goddess.”

  “I didn’t realize he was so religious.”

  “He’s not, but he loves collecting the offerings left on the altars,” Alex added with a wink.

  “Mara? Do you think we could visit Mubali’s temple, so I could thank her for keeping me safe?”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Tamil.”

  “So, what are you most looking forward to, Mara?” Alex asked, nudging her with his elbow.

  “Well, my friend used to go to Merrowhaven every year. He would always rave about this particular chocolate shop—he swore up and down that the Pistors must have infused their magic into the truffles, they were that good. Actually, all the food was incredible, according to him…” Mara trailed off, thinking of Ansel. Her throat constricted. She wished he were with them now. He’d prattle away about all his favorite restaurants and confectionaries, then insist on visiting each one. She wiped away a tear before it could fall.

  They turned to her, their faces betraying their concern. She covered her silence with a cough and said, “But I’m looking forward to a hot bath the most.”

  “And believe me, we’re anxious for you to get one. It’s been a struggle to walk downwind from you on this trip,” Alex quipped, pinching his nose.

  Mara smacked him on the arm and laughed. That’s when she realized that Ella had been uncharacteristically quiet. The disciple walked off to the side with her arms wrapped around her torso. Mara left Tamil in Alex’s care and moved over until they walked side-by-side. “What about you, Ella? What are you looking forward to?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing, except leaving it,” Ella replied tersely.

  Mara wanted to ask a hundred questions, but a strange whistling noise made her ears perk up. She looked around, unable to spot the source. What sort of bird made that sound? She heard it again, but in the opposite direction. Was there more than one? These rocks made it impossible to see. Her eyes darted to find Oona. If anyone could ide
ntify the sound, the Avem could, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  Another whistle pierced the ravine. It didn’t sound natural. Unease churned her stomach. “Ethan . . .”

  “I hear it, too.” He stepped closer and motioned for Alex to walk on her other side, wedging her between them.

  Cadmus’s disciples moved to surround her, not even attempting to be subtle. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing how they cut them off from the disciples Ethan identified as allies. Mara pulled Tamil closer. “Ethan, what’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure.” He frowned, then nodded over her head at Alex. “If anything happens, you know what to do.”

  “You have my word,” Alex said solemnly.

  They moved out of the ravine and down a sloping hill. Rather than the wide-open plains of Esterwyn that Mara expected to see, giant boulders filled the area like gravestones, making it impossible to see around the corners until they were already passing by. Mara jumped at each shadowy crevice, her imagination running wild with the possible creatures that might make their homes within. Her heart pounded. Her feet dragged. She didn’t want to go through there. A disciple prodded her back, forcing her to move forward.

  “Hurry up.”

  The path funneled through the rocks, growing narrower and narrower, until the group was forced to walk single file. Loose stone crunched beneath their boots. Much to her horror, Patrick walked directly behind her. Where was Alex? Her arms tightened around Tamil. No matter what happened, she would protect him.

  Her breathing grew shallow, and the sound of blood rushed in her ears. Why couldn’t they climb the rocks and leap from the tops? “Is there a reason why Saxums haven’t cleared the path?”

  Ethan’s reply made her heart stop.

  “These rocks were never here before. If I had to wager a guess, I’d say that someone set this up intentionally,” he whispered over his shoulder, back rigid. His head swiveled from left to right as he scanned the pass.