She pressed on, turning left, then right, and left again. The sounds of the busy street faded as she waded through the ankle-deep muck deeper into the city. Oversized rats scrambled over her boots and she shuddered. The scratching of their claws on leather was enough to send her into a panic, to remind her of the rats in the Order’s dungeon. Scratching. Biting.
She braced her hands on the walls and took a steadying breath. She wasn’t at Order Headquarters anymore. She had to stay composed.
Her fingers traveled over the walls more frantically now.
Where was the marker?
Kya had promised to leave markers for her to follow, but it wasn’t a stretch to imagine the girl conveniently forgetting to mark the path, dooming Mara to a considerably shortened lifespan.
Mara thought about Kya, the red headed dreg with a fierce love of anything broken and lonely, and an even fiercer tongue. The little street urchin lived in the encampment outside the city walls but slipped into the city every day to ‘buy’ supplies with nothing but her wits, sticky fingers, and her ability to sneak past anything that breathed. She was the queen in the shadows and these dark, cramped alleys were her kingdom.
To say she didn’t like Mara was an understatement, and the level of hostility radiating from her tiny body made Wynn seem like a charming socialite in comparison. Would she compromise the lives and safety of hundreds of dregs over it?
Just when Mara was ready to give up, she felt it—the symbol for dreg, etched deep into the wood. She followed the etchings through the winding alleyways until she emerged onto a deserted street. A quick look around confirmed that Mikkal had led the guards away. Across the street, an abandoned mercantile squatted beneath the surrounding homes. Wooden boards covered the shattered windows. The door hung open like a gaping mouth waiting to swallow anyone who passed by.
It was the perfect location for an illegal, underground market.
Mara hurried inside. A thick layer of dust coated the broken bottles and empty shelves of the main room. Cobwebs clung to the ceiling. It looked like no one had been here for years. If it weren’t for the trail of foot prints in the dust, she might have thought she had the wrong building. A floorboard squeaked under her boot as she made her way into the back room. Voices drifted from the basement. She followed the sound to a trap door, poorly hidden beneath a threadbare rug. She reached for the rusted iron handle and paused. Why was she risking her well being for this?
She could turn around and head back to the palace, no one the wiser. She was comfortable here, and her friends were safe. Why would she risk ruining everything?
Then she thought of Cadmus. Cadmus, who would sacrifice nothing to dominate everyone and anything on the continent. The Head Magi who had held her captive. Who had destroyed her childhood home and killed her mother. The Magi who had refused to Gift her because of a centuries old prophecy proclaiming that a child born during the black sun would overthrow the Order. Since then, they’d turned anyone born during a solar eclipse into a dreg.
What Cadmus didn’t realize was that the prophecy contained a translation error. The language in which the prophecy was written didn’t understand the concept of plurals, so it didn’t refer to a single child—it referred to all of them.
And now Mara and Ethan were Gifting as many dregs as possible, and all those Giftings required a whole lot of elixir. Enough elixir that it would raise suspicion if anyone knew.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Mara wrapped her hand around the iron handle and pulled it open. The cloying smell of starblossom smacked her in the face, and she had to turn her head to breathe deeply. She pulled her cowl over her head, hoping that would be enough to disguise her. Most of the people in the outer ring had never glimpsed the emperor, let alone her, but it couldn’t hurt to be cautious. The stone stairs were firm beneath her feet. She pushed open the door at the base of the stairs and walked inside.
Long tables and booths filled the space, each displaying unscrupulous wares. A man in a yellow suvali pounded on the top of a cage where a tiger sat, gnawing on the bars. It stretched out a paw and swiped at a passing woman. Isaac would have a stroke if he saw it—buying and selling exotic animals required a permit in Merrowhaven. Five Gifted reclined on plush cushions arranged in a circle. They passed around a pipe, inhaling deeply. Judging by their goofy grins and red eyes, they’d been here a while, and it would be a while before they left.
A few heads turned her way to give her a cursory glance, then they ignored her, dismissing her as nonthreatening. She wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or offended. She took a steadying breath to calm her nerves and patted her thigh where she’d concealed her dagger. This was the underbelly of Merrowhaven. The place where no crime was too vile as long as you could pay the price.
Not wanting to stay any longer than necessary, Mara hurried over to a table piled high with herbs, seeds, and other rare plants. The man behind the booth wore the finest tunic the outer ring could buy. Unfortunately, it looked like someone had dressed up a rabid badger for a night at the opera. His thick beard was flecked with spittle and the remnants of his breakfast. He tucked a few coins into his money pouch and handed the customer a wrapped paper bundle. Judging by his frown, the bartering hadn’t gone in his favor. So much for hoping she’d get a good deal. Still, she couldn’t help teasing him when she called out, “Morning, Betsy!”
The retreating customer stifled a laugh, and Mara was tempted to trip him.
The man scowled at her. “I told you that in confidence.”
She winked and said, “It’s amazing what a gold coin will buy.”
Truthfully, it was a waste of money, but curiosity had gotten the better of her. Betsy scowled at her, his lips pulling back to reveal a set of broken teeth—a testament of a life spent brawling due to the fact that his name was Betsy. Not that she could blame him. His parents were either exceptionally cruel, or they had hoped for a sweet, gentle daughter. Instead, they had gotten a veritable beast that would make even the most savage of Lingate proud.
“Yes, a gold coin can buy a lot.” He tilted his head to the back corner where three cloaked figures hunched over mugs of steaming liquid. She couldn’t see their weapons, but she knew each carried more daggers and knives than the palace armory. Mara could feel their eyes linger on her, and she suppressed a shudder. Anything could be found in the underground market, and she probably shouldn’t antagonize the father of Merrowhaven’s most notorious assassin.
Incidentally, hiring an assassin had been Wynn’s suggestion. It might have worked, if not for the fact that Cadmus would see him coming a mile away. Literally. The Head Magi had the rare ability to Read the future without having to touch a person, and now that he’d stolen her Augeo, his Gift was magnified tenfold.
Swallowing her unease, she forced a smile. She held up a leather pouch full of Isaac’s gold and shook it so the sound of coins clinking together could be heard above the cacophony of haggling from other booths. As she’s hoped, Betsy’s scowl transformed into a beaming smile that suggested he would gladly adopt her into the family or pawn her off to one of his six sons. Neither option appealed to her.
“Pleasure to see you, as always. What’ll it be today?” Betsy gestured to the table, subtly (or not so subtly) nudging the case of dried starblossom closer.
Mara rolled her eyes and shoved it back. Starblossom, for those who could afford it, offered a brief escape from the horrors of reality. Unfortunately, it was highly addicting, and too many in the outer ring bartered their food vouchers for enough coin to buy it, leaving their families to starve. Not to mention it was illegal. Isaac, no doubt, would know the exact ordinance violation, and she didn’t feel like testing his expertise at the moment. Hoping to keep the transaction brief, Mara pulled a scroll from her pocket and handed it to Betsy. “Just the ingredients listed, please.”
He unrolled the scroll and read it, his smile fading. “You know you can buy all this in the market in the middle ring for a fraction of my prices, ri
ght? Not that I would turn down your coin . . .”
“Those prices don’t buy silence.”
He turned a cunning eye on her, and Mara got the sense that she had made a mistake. “You’re a fool to believe silence can be bought. You never know when someone might come along and pay double for a loose tongue.”
“That goes both ways. It would be a shame if the guards found out who was supplying all that starblossom. The mystery must drive them crazy.” She held his gaze long enough for the threat to sink in—pushovers were easy fodder in the underground market. Then she shrugged. “Besides, you like me too much to sell my secrets.”
Scratching his chin, he barked out a laugh that sounded even more terrifying than his growl. “I like your coin too much, girl. And those cherry tarts you brought last time.”
Bribe, duly noted. The next time she needed to stock up on ingredients, she’d bring a whole tray of tarts for him. Betsy opened a jar and began scooping elderberry powder into a drawstring pouch. While he filled her order, Mara leaned against the booth and asked in what she hoped was a casual voice, “So, I don’t suppose you might know where someone could buy an Augeo, do you?”
Betsy’s answering laugh was enough to turn heads at the nearest tables. “You’d have an easier time finding a troll riding a sea monster. Everyone knows Augeos are just a myth.”
Mara forced a laugh that sounded strained to her own ears. No matter who she’d spoken to, they all said the same—Augeos weren’t real. They didn’t exist. They were fantasies, dreamed up by the imaginations of children. And perhaps she might have believed them, except she could remember the weight of the Augeo around her neck. Feel the flood of power as it surged through her veins, amplifying her Gift. She swallowed her disappointment. It was a long shot but having that edge would be invaluable when she finally confronted Cadmus.
Betsy wrapped up her package and set it on the edge of the table while Mara fished out enough coins to cover the purchase. “Thanks, I—”
The door to the front entrance crashed open with a crack that echoed through the underground space. Mara froze as a dozen guards funneled into the market.
2
“Blue guard! Everybody on the ground!” The guards shouted as they poured into the already packed space.
For a fraction of a second, no one moved. Then the room erupted into chaos. A smattering of vendors stood with their hands in their pockets, looking bored, as if the raid were a minor nuisance. Some did as they were ordered and flattened themselves on the floor, hands over their heads to avoid being crushed in the stampede that surged toward the back exit, overturning tables in their mad dash to escape before the guards secured the room. Bottles shattered. Illegal Deleos skittered across the floor in every direction. The tiger’s cage tipped over and slammed on the stone floor with a loud crack. Mara prayed the animal was still secure.
A frantic woman shoved Mara, sending her careening into a table. Pain flared in her hip and she whimpered, her grip tightening on her parcel. She couldn’t afford to drop it now. Without these ingredients, Ethan couldn’t brew enough of the Soperallias elixir to Gift the dregs in the encampment.
The guards pressed through the cramped space, aiming for the back of the room where the Gifted with the starblossom pipe were scrambling over each other, trying to hide the evidence of their imbibing. With growing horror, she tracked the path of the guards, calculating the distance to the door. She’d never make it in time. They would catch her and turn her over to the emperor for justice. Her one chance to help the dregs and get revenge on the Order disintegrated before her eyes.
This couldn’t be happening.
The other Gifted must have had a similar epiphany. Bravery was not a trait common to criminals, but fleeing was no longer an option. Trapped, they turned to fight. A fireball soared over Mara’s head and crashed into a booth of smuggled tapestries and rugs, engulfing it in flames. An Irrigo flung a spray of water over her shoulder to douse the flames, her eyes locked on the Ignis responsible. With lethal precision, she struck, forming orbs of water around his fists where they crystallized into ice. They wouldn’t last long—already they were beginning to melt as the fire in his veins struggled to break free—but those precious seconds bought enough time for a nearby guard to clasp Deleos around his wrists. The fire suffocated into embers before it died.
A Saxum stood behind a wall of tables turned on their side to form a barricade, pulling apple-sized chunks of stone from the walls and lobbing them at the guards. Two Armises stood back-to-back, parrying blows with three of the guards.
Those without weaponized Gifts drew daggers and makeshift weapons they scavenged from the ruined market. An elderly woman with greasy hair and a pinched face gripped a bottle of murky liquid between her gnarled hands.
No matter how hard they fought, back alley scraps couldn’t compete with the skill and training of the guard. The criminals were fading quickly, minutes away from being overpowered.
A terrifying yowl thundered through the room, and dread curdled in Mara’s stomach.
A waif-thin Brutum pried open the door of the tiger’s cage, the bars protesting with a loud screech. He stepped back with a disturbingly satisfied grin and tilted his head toward the beast. It prowled from the cage and shook out its fur, stretching with a yawn that displayed its gleaming fangs. Mara could imagine its claws ripping through her skin and tearing through her flesh. It made her decision easier.
She would rather be captured by the guards than eaten by a tiger.
Glass crunched under her boots as she edged toward the wall.
Someone grabbed Mara’s arm and power flared in her veins. She whirled around, ready to pummel her assailant. Betsy clamped a meaty hand over her mouth and dragged her behind his table. He jerked his chin toward her hand where energy was threading around her fingers. “Put that away before someone sees it.”
Too startled to do anything else, Mara obeyed. How could she have been so stupid? She’d almost exposed her identity to a room full of the emperor’s guards! They might overlook a single woman, but an Impriga slinging balls of energy? Not a chance.
“Are you going to scream?” When she shook her head no, he removed his hand from her mouth but kept his grip tight on her arm, firm but not quite painful.
She tripped over a hand, its owner still clutching a coin purse. She didn’t know if the man was still alive, and Betsy wasn’t stopping to let her check. “Where are you taking me?”
“Escape route,” he replied, his tone clipped. “Get out of here, and don’t get caught.”
“What about you?”
His eyes twinkled. “This isn’t the first raid, and it won’t be the last. Most of these guards turn a blind eye with enough coin. I’ll be fine, but if they catch you . . . “
A knife whirred through the air, missing her nose by an inch. She reeled back, heart in her throat.
Then her eyes went wide as his meaning sunk in. “How long have you known?”
“Since the first time you approached my booth. Seeing your Gift just now confirmed it.” At her alarmed look, Betsy continued, “Don’t panic. I’m the only one who knows. Well, me and Darby, that is. Though he probably knew who you were and what you’d eaten that morning from a mile away. Unnatural thing, he is.”
Mara followed his gaze to the back corner where one assassin remained—the others had vanished the instant the guards appeared. Darby, she presumed, leaned against the wall, trimming his nails with a finger-sized knife, apparently unbothered by the pandemonium around him. Belatedly, Mara realized that Betsy was leading her toward the assassin. She dug her heels into floor and tried to pry his grip from her arm with little success. He pulled her along as if she weighed no more than a child.
“Quit struggling. I’m trying to help you,” he hissed, keeping his eyes straight ahead. How he could ignore the fight behind them, she didn’t know. The constant barrage of crashes and screams were impossible to ignore, and her head kept swiveling back to keep an eye on the tiger’
s whereabouts. She couldn’t see it, but she could hear it.
Trapped between two deadly outcomes she asked, “Why?”
“I can’t let my best customer fall into the hands of the Blue Guard, can I?”
A nice sentiment, if it weren’t a giant pile of rubbish. “Try again, Betsy.”
“Can’t someone do something nice without an ulterior motive?” He smiled, probably trying to appear innocent, but she wasn’t fooled for a moment.
“In this crowd? No, not usually.” No one did anything nice for free here. She’d once seen a Brutum sell his familiar—a sleek black wolf—for a sizeable bag of precious gems only for the animal to rip its new owner’s throat out moments later. Betsy was offering her a helping hand now, but he could just as easily stab her in the back if he didn’t profit in some way. She yanked back out of his grip and crossed her arms over her chest, fixing him with a hard stare. “What do you want?”
He gave her an appraising look. “You’re smarter than you look. I bet the emperor thought you’d be some green country bumpkin that he could control.”
Mara snorted—he was right about that.
“Fine. A favor. At a time and place of my choosing.”
She hesitated. Giving an open favor like that could backfire. What if he asked her to steal something from the palace or worse, kill someone?
“Unless you’d rather take your chances here. Between the tiger and the guard, you don’t stand a chance without using your Gift. And then, you may as well turn yourself in since they’ll know your identity.”
The tiger growled, followed by a bloodcurdling scream that set her hairs raising on her arms. Fear was a powerful motivator. “Deal.”
The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus Page 69