The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  Emperor Edgard had a thick beard and chin-length brown hair that fell in thin wisps around his blocky face. His brows shelved above his eyes, giving the impression that he was in deep thought. His large upper body appeared disproportionate to his spindly legs, which were kicked out to the side. An unnecessarily large crown rested on his head. Mara’s neck ached just to look at it.

  The woman, Empress Olivia, looked years younger, though time had begun to track lines on her face. Her raven-black hair was pleated around her scalp before hanging in soft ringlets down her back. A smaller crown, crusted with Azora crystals, rested on her head. The Empress might be pretty, but it was hard to tell under the thick layer of paint on her face. She watched them approach with a small smile and kind eyes.

  When they reached the foot of the dais, the group sank into bows. Mara did her best to curtsy without falling on her face. That would certainly leave an impression.

  The emperor eyed them a long moment before speaking. “You must be the group escorting the Impriga. You’ve arrived later than I expected.”

  Ethan rose to his feet and offered an apologetic smile. “Yes, Your Grace. We had some trouble on the road, but as you can see, she is delivered safe and sound.”

  “Is she?” Edgard’s blue eyes traveled over the group before settling on Mara. His countenance darkened. “The Impriga, I presume?”

  A moment passed before Mara realized she was expected to speak. She coughed. “Yes. I mean, I am the Impriga, sir. Your Grace, sir. Uh…”

  Ethan hid his smile behind a hand. “How might we serve you, Your Grace?”

  The emperor gave him a dismissive wave of the hand. “I care little for what you and your group will do. I’m more curious as to why the Order has been holding one of my citizens as a prisoner these past few weeks.”

  Ethan blanched. “I cannot begin to understand nor explain the Head Magi’s motivations.”

  “Can’t you? Perhaps we should return the favor. Our dungeons are located so far beneath the floor that we cannot hear the screams of our prisoners.”

  Mara had heard enough. She stepped forward, holding her arms out to the side, ready to call on her Gift if necessary. No one would be throwing Ethan in a dungeon. “This is how you greet my friends and escorts?”

  To her surprise, the emperor laughed. “There’s the spark I’ve heard about. Yes, you might do well after all. My love,” he turned to address the empress, “if you please.”

  Empress Olivia rose from her throne and floated down the stairs. Her waist was cinched so tight it was a wonder she didn’t fold in half. How could she even breathe? It looked like her torso was attached to a pillow.

  She stopped in front of Mara and gripped her chin, turning her head left and right like someone inspecting a horse at an auction. Mara shrank back from her impersonal touch, but the empress’s iron grip held her in place. She pried open her mouth. “Fine teeth. Good bone structure. Unfortunate hair, but the waiting girls should be able to tame it. She could be pretty with some work. Yes. Yes, she should do fine.”

  As soon as she was freed, Mara shot a baffled look at Ethan, who looked equally as confused by the exchange. What did her appearance have to do with anything? They were just wasting time while the Order was looming in the shadows. If he didn’t already know they had escaped his trap, Cadmus would find out soon. He wouldn’t hesitate to retaliate, and Mara needed to make sure Stonehollow was protected.

  “Your Grace.” Mara stepped forward, dipping into an extra curtsy for good measure. “My family and my home are in danger. I need your help to protect them.”

  “In danger from whom?” the emperor asked.

  She lifted her chin. “The Head Magi of the Order.”

  Emperor Edgard burst out in laughter. “Nonsense. Cadmus is a good friend and longtime supporter of the crown. You must be mistaken.”

  “But, sir—”

  “If it will ease your mind, I’ll have a few guards look into it. Will that appease you?”

  “Yes, sir.” For now, she added silently. Cadmus was exceptionally good at being charming, when he wanted to. The emperor probably hadn’t seen his darker side. But what if he had? What if the emperor knew everything that Cadmus was doing, and worse, approved of it?

  “Wonderful! I’m sure you are tired from your long journey here. The servants will show you to your chambers so you can rest. Tomorrow, you will give a demonstration of your abilities. I have never seen an Impriga in my lifetime, and I am most interested in seeing what you can do.”

  A portly servant in a blue doublet led them down the hallways and up a flight of stairs. They weaved through so many hallways that Mara was sure she’d get dizzy. Whoever designed the palace must have needed a compass just to navigate their way to the privy.

  “The guest wing,” the servant announced when the tour through the maze ended. Dozens of doors lined the hallway. “You will have all the privacy you wish. If you need assistance, simply pull the cord inside your doors and someone will be along shortly.”

  Her companions entered a few of the various rooms, arguing good-naturedly over which one they would claim. Mara chose one at random and walked inside while Ethan explored the room next to it. A giant canopy bed stood proudly in the center of the room, covered with a thick pile of furs and pillows. Mara ran a finger across the carved posts—her father’s craftsmanship was far superior. A table sat next to the bed. Plush chairs were situated by the window that overlooked the city. Mara walked over to the wardrobe and pulled it over, slamming it closed at the sight of more dresses. Maybe she could ring and ask for more practical tunics and trousers, though she doubted they would accommodate her.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Ethan and Tamil entered.

  Ethan motioned to the boy. “I thought you might be more comfortable if Tamil stayed with you.”

  “Yes, please! As long as that’s okay with Tamil,” she said with a question in her voice.

  Tamil’s face broke into a wide smile. “Yes!”

  “Actually . . .” Ethan paused as if he were trying to figure out how to phrase his words. “I think it’s best if someone accompanies you at all times.”

  “Do you think I’m in danger?” Mara asked. The emperor was certainly odd, but she didn’t detect anything nefarious. The palace was the safest place for her to be, and having an escort seemed unnecessary.

  Ethan peeked back into the hallway before shutting the door. “I’m not suggesting anything. Until we know why you’re here, I think it’s best to be careful.”

  Mara narrowed her eyes. “It’s not the emperor that you’re worried about, is it? You think Cadmus might try something.”

  “As I said. It’s better to be safe.”

  Mara groaned and rubbed her face. “What are we going to do?”

  “You could simply accept your role in the infamous prophecy and annihilate him, you know.”

  Judging by the twinkle in his eyes, she guessed that he was kidding. She rolled her eyes. “So eager to watch me rain down fire and destruction on the Order?”

  “Something like that.”

  The playful grin fell from her face. Joking about such a serious matter felt wrong. “You know how I feel about that.”

  “And you know I’d never force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

  “I know,” she whispered. At what point did she start trusting him completely? Time and time again, he’d helped her at great personal risk to himself. Everything he did had been to protect her. And more than that, he’d become her closest friend. He understood her on a deeper level than anyone else.

  Their eyes met, and the room became stifling, charged like the air before a storm.

  “You should get some rest.” He swallowed, looking away. “Something tells me you’ll need it for the emperor’s demonstration.”

  Mara followed him to the door. “Ethan?”

  Ethan turned and gave her a smile that made her stomach flutter, then brushed his knuckles down the side of her face before tuck
ing a stray hair behind her ear. Her breath caught in her throat, and she forgot what she was going to say. His gaze dropped to her lips. Mara tilted her face upward. For one agonizing moment, she thought he would kiss her. Instead, he pulled away and whispered, “Goodnight, Mara.”

  She let out a sigh and watched as he turned the corner and entered his room. Stupid Magi. Why did she think he would kiss her? And why did she feel disappointed that he hadn’t? She shook her head. Obviously, the journey to Merrowhaven had taken its toll on her. Maybe she should go to bed early, but she felt suddenly awake. Why waste the night sleeping when they could explore the palace?

  Tamil walked up behind her and leaned against the doorway. Mara shot him an impish smile. “Want to go raid the kitchens?”

  19

  The next morning, Mara stepped out onto the arena. When the emperor had asked for a demonstration, she expected a small display in a private training yard, not an exhibition. A thousand seats overlooked a sand-covered arena, complete with private boxes for the upper-class spectators. A small crowd had already gathered, and more were filing in by the second. A tall man in a purple doublet walked through the stands, scrawling on slips of paper, and Mara watched as coins exchanged hands. They were gambling on her? But why? It wasn’t as if there was a tournament, after all. She was just supposed to show off her Gift.

  With no direction and little else to do, Mara examined her surroundings as she stretched. Several gates large enough to fit a carriage through lined the perimeter of the arena. Perhaps they did simulated battles? Or group training?

  She waved at Alex, Oona, Ella, Ethan and Tamil as they walked in, taking seats right at the ground level. Ethan’s face was tight. What was he worried about?

  She jogged over and jumped up on the railing, hooking her boots on the bottom rung.

  “You look lively,” Alex said with a grin.

  “I was up all night with Tamil, eating sweets.”

  “Ah, so nerves and sugar—the perfect combination.”

  “Exactly!” She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about Merrowhaven agreed with her. She’d like to say that it was the feeling of being safe, surrounded by thousands of people, where Cadmus couldn’t hurt her, but it was probably the food. The scones with cream and jam she’d had this morning rivaled anything that Mr. Fitz had made. Plus, the Pistor in the kitchen didn’t serve them with an extra side of vitriol.

  “It’s only because she doesn’t know what’s happening,” Oona said, adjusting the skirt on her lavender gown. Her hair was twisted back from her face in an elegant knot. She looked like she belonged in this city.

  Mara blinked. “What do you mean?”

  Ella smacked Oona upside the head. “Well done! Now you’ve got her worried.”

  Oona rolled her eyes and scooted over on the bench. “It’s not like she won’t find out in a minute anyway.”

  “Mara,” Ethan leaned forward to whisper. “This isn’t a solo demonstration. Emperor Edgard is—”

  His words were cut off by the blast of a trumpet. The crowd roared as the emperor and empress floated in through the archway, arm-in-arm. Mara’s stomach bottomed out when she realized that every seat was filled. The people stood to their feet and stomped their boots on the benches. This was not the reaction she expected for a simple demonstration.

  Mara hurried to the center of the arena and faced the royal box, offering a shallow curtsy to the royal couple. She resisted the urge to fidget as her nerves grew.

  The emperor raised his hands to silence the crowd. “The gods have seen fit to deliver the most wonderous gift into our city. An Impriga! The only one born in Esterwyn in over a century! To celebrate and to test the power of her Gift, we present a battle of epic proportions for your amusement and delight. Without further ado, I present Mara, the Impriga!”

  The cheer that erupted from the stands was so loud that Cadmus likely heard it all the way at Order Headquarters.

  Her heart sank. So much for a simple, private demonstration where she would sling around a few balls of energy and be done with it. That she could handle. But this? Just how many Gifted would she have to fight? What if she lost control and hurt the soldiers, or the people in the audience? Her thoughts spiraled out of control. Her terrified gaze met Ethan’s across the arena. He gave her a slight nod, as if to say that it was no more than she could handle. She forced her breathing to steady as a group of Musicae launched into a lively tune on their instruments. Really? She shot them an incredulous look.

  Three gates opened simultaneously as soldiers flooded into the arena, lining up in formation. Mara lost count after the first two dozen, but she estimated that there had to be close to one hundred men and women—far more than she could possibly fight on her own. Her knees buckled, and bile rose in her throat. What had the emperor said? A battle of epic proportions? She couldn’t do it. They would trample her in minutes. Had she fled one tyrant only to be exploited by another? What was she expecting?

  Her Gift flared to life. She allowed it to slither around her body like a serpent. The crowd’s awed murmurs filled her ears, empowering her. The soldiers gawked at her, and she blinked in surprise. Their faces were openly curious, but she couldn’t spot a single hostile or fearful stare among them. That’s when she noticed none of them carried weapons. It was really a demonstration?

  The soldiers broke into five groups. The first group pulled a wagon filled with rocks into one corner of the arena. The next group carried barrels of water, while the third lit a ring of torches. Only the last two groups remained still, waiting. She guessed that the fourth group was made up of Caeli—they didn’t need fancy props—but what Gift did the last group possess?

  The group of Saxums stepped forward and offered her shallow bows, which she returned with a curtsy. What now? As if they heard her unspoken question, they lowered into fighting stances that Mara copied, trying not to show that she was clueless. Were they going to just . . . throw rocks at each other? If she ever saw Cadmus again, she would strangle him for neglecting that aspect of her training.

  A rock sailed across the arena at her. Mara ducked, letting it thump in the sand behind her. Judging by the grimace on the man’s face, that wasn’t the reaction she should have had. She twisted around, trying to figure out who would throw next. There! A woman with rich brown hair. She pulled back and spun the rock, heaving it straight at Mara. She reached out, failing to grasp the energy in the rock. It crashed into her shoulder, sending a flare of pain down her arm. The woman winced.

  Ten minutes passed where she was being pummeled by the rocks. The crowd’s awe turned to ridicule as they jeered at her. It wasn’t fair! They hadn’t given her time to prepare, and no one had instructed her on what she was expected to do. How was she supposed to know she was going to fight an army? The injustice of it all flowed through her.

  “Enough!” she roared, throwing her arms to the side.

  The soldiers froze, and the crowd went dead silent. Twenty stones hovered at shoulder-height in a perfect circle around her. One of the Saxums, a boy with flaxen hair, gave her a shallow bow and clapped. The crowd followed suit, giving her a round of applause. The Saxums took control of their rocks and exited the arena.

  The next group—the Irrigos—stepped forward. The water threatened to spill over the edge of the barrels, but a flick of the hand from one of the soldiers kept it inside. Like the first group, they circled around her, setting their barrels at their feet. This time, she was ready. She had to demonstrate that she could control the element in order to pass to the next group. So what Gift did the last group have? She shook her head to clear away the distraction. She’d worry about that after she bested the first groups.

  Unlike the Saxums, all the Irrigos held their hands above the barrels as one, pulling out a stream of water and forming a sphere of liquid in their hands. Mara spun in a slow circle, her palms held in front of her, watching closely for signs of movement. A willowy girl on the left flinched slightly before the group sent streams
of water to her. Mara reached out. The energy in the water was explosive and full of movement, so different from the stagnant rocks. It might have been cheating, but she threw up a shield a second before the water hit her. The water splashed against the shield in a giant wave. In one movement, Mara released the shield and took control of the water, spinning it above her head in a ring. She threw her arms out to the side, sending it splashing back at the Irrigos. She must have taken them by surprise, because all of them were drenched in seconds, the water running down their clothes and soaking into the sandy floor. With flicks of the wrist, the water rose from the saturated ground and flowed back into the barrels.

  Then came the Caeli, who formed a cyclone of air that Mara had to stop. Then the Ignises, which made Mara’s heart shudder. Once she took control of their flames and snuffed them out, the final group took center stage. She turned her head, squinting to see if they had some trick. As one, they held their hands to the side and manifested glowing weapons. Mara’s brows rose to her hairline. The final test—pure energy manipulation. Now this, she was prepared for.

  Her boots slid across the sand, and the Armises circled her like buzzards around carrion. She reached out tentatively for their energy threads as the first man darted in, sword swinging. The next followed behind with a massive axe. She ducked out of the way and latched on, pulling just enough that his weapon spluttered out but not enough to put him to sleep. The Armis looked down at his empty hand with a cry of outrage that quickly turned into a deep belly laugh. The rest soon followed, until they all stood with empty hands and amused faces.

  By this point, the entire arena was shaking from the force of the audience’s cheers. The soldiers surrounded her. She waved at the crowd, eating up their approval. For the first time in her life, she felt wanted and valued, not just by a few but by everyone. But no one was cheering louder than her little corner of the arena. Tamil sat on Ethan’s shoulders, his arms raised above his head. Ethan beamed at her with a proud smile. Ella stood on the bench, fists pumping the air as she screamed. Even Alex and Oona joined in the celebration.