The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  “This is . . . snow?” When she nodded, he said, “I’ve never seen it before.”

  She didn’t imagine that it snowed in the desert kingdom of Kearar.

  His head tilted back as the snowflakes kissed his ebony face before melting. Then he squealed and skipped down the path, brushing his hands over the shrubs as he went.

  The gardens were deserted, peaceful, and Mara was grateful for the solitude. This was her favorite place in the palace and having it to herself soothed an ache she didn’t know she had. Without an audience, she didn’t have to pretend. She didn’t have to worry about the proper way to behave or accidentally offending someone. She could just be herself.

  Wynn walked up next to Mara and watched the boy play. “He’s never gonna want to go home now.”

  Mara smiled. “The novelty will wear off soon enough when he can’t feel his fingers and toes.”

  “Mara . . .” Wynn began tentatively. “Ya need to tell him.”

  Mara shook her head. “I can’t get his hopes up.”

  “He deserves to know.”

  Mara wrapped her arms around her torso and shivered. News of the Rei’s conquests in Lingate had reached Merrowhaven a few weeks ago, and she had done everything in her power to shield Tamil from the news. At first, she had wanted to protect him. War-torn and desolate, Lingate was no place for a child, and she was afraid he’d do anything to reach his father. But now she was terrified of Tamil’s reaction once he learned that she’d known the truth and hadn’t told him. He would hate her.

  She swallowed. “I’ll tell him later. I just don’t know how we’re going to keep him from running away once he knows.”

  “He’s too smart for that.”

  “Maybe. But having the one thing you want so close can drive a person mad. If he knew his father was in Lingate, on the way to Order Headquarters, he might think it’s worth the risk.”

  Wynn frowned. “Or he’ll ask us for help.”

  “But that’s just it . . . I don’t know how we’re going to get him back to his father. And then there’s the problem of Tomar invading Order Headquarters.”

  “Fat lot that’ll do. Tamil isn’t even there anymore.”

  Mara’s eyes pinched at the corners. It was true. Unless someone got word to the Rei that Tamil was safe in Merrowhaven, he would continue his campaign north, conquering each city in Lingate until he amassed an army the likes of which had never been seen. Then, he would march to Order Headquarters and tear it apart. “Someone needs to let him know.”

  “And have the clans rain down on Merrowhaven? That’s a stupid idea. If one small camp of refugees can make the guards wet their trousers, imagine what a hoard of them would be like.”

  “We should at least send a raven to save them from waging an unnecessary war they can’t win. The Order has thousands of well-trained disciples. They’ll be slaughtered.”

  “And they’ll take plenty of disciples with them when they are. A glorious death in battle is the best they could ask for.”

  “I’m not just talking about the clans, Wynn.”

  “Is yer heart going mushy over the disciples now?”

  Mara thought about what she’d learned as a captive of the Order. “Not all of them are at Order Headquarters by choice.”

  Wynn scoffed.

  “I’m serious. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what it was like for them. There are many disciples who have no loyalty to Cadmus, who were taken from their families like Tamil. If they fight, they’ll die, but if they were given a choice . . .”

  “Ya honestly think they’ll turn on Cadmus?”

  “I do.”

  “I hope ye’re right.”

  “Me, too,” Mara said back. “Me, too.”

  Tamil rounded the corner, laughter trailing behind him. He threw himself back onto the ground, waving his arms up and down, leaving shallow grooves in the snow.

  This was why she was fighting. Why she was willing to risk everything. There was goodness and innocence in the world that deserved to be protected from the corruption of the Order. And nothing would stop her.

  “Me, too.”

  6

  Loaded with supplies, Mara and Oona approached the outer gate. Mornings were particularly busy with merchants coming into Merrowhaven with their wares to barter. Added to the chaos were the rowdy groups of refugees from Lingate, which was exactly why Mara chose this time of day to visit the dreg encampment. Mikkal was busy leading her personal guards on a merry chase around the middle ring, giving her time to slip out of the city without an audience.

  She flashed her identification card to the man at the desk along with her winningest smile and kept walking toward the gate, hoping he wouldn’t insist on searching their baskets. Most of the guards were aware of her ‘special project,’ and they usually let her pass with nothing but a cursory glance.

  She didn’t recognize this guard.

  His eyes widened, and he tugged the hem on his slightly too-long uniform. He looked like he was fresh out of training, sporting a peach-fuzz mustache that he probably groomed each night before bed. He ambled over on lanky legs that made him look like a foal learning to stand for the first time.

  Mara’s grip tightened on her basket. Nothing to see here. Just two well-dressed ladies from the palace without an escort making a beeline for the exit. Nothing suspicious at all. She looped an arm through Oona’s and hurried toward the gate. Only ten more feet.

  Please don’t look. Please don’t look. Please don’t look.

  A hand grabbed her upper arm. “Excuse me, miss. I’m going to need to search your basket.”

  She stared at his hand until he let go, throwing in an awkward cough for good measure, as if he’d only now realized who he’d laid his hands on. She drew herself up to full height and pulled her shoulders back, trying to exude more confidence than she felt. Time to fake it. She pitched her voice higher and batted her eyelashes. “Excuse me? Whatever for?”

  Oona choked on a laugh and Mara pinched her in the side.

  “New Policy.”

  “This is preposterous!” She channeled Isaac, looking down her nose at him, aiming for the haughty look she’d seen Isaac give the servants. Judging by Oona’s derisive snort, she failed spectacularly. She cursed her bad luck at getting stopped when they were so close. Unwilling to give up, she said, “You must be new.”

  “First day,” the guard said, ducking his head and scratching the back of his neck.

  Letting go of Mara’s arm, Oona sauntered over. Somehow, she managed to look both demure and alluring as she smiled at him. Now that was a talent. Mara would probably look like a deranged murderer if she tried that look. “You must want to impress your superiors, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be caught breaking the rules on your first day,” she added with a wink.

  The tips of the guard’s ear pinked, and a faint blush crept across his cheekbones. Mara could feel her face flushing as well, but for an entirely different reason. What was Oona doing? If she wanted to convince the guard to leave them alone, she was going about it all wrong! When Oona held out her basket and flipped the towel off the top, Mara’s jaw dropped.

  “Here. Have a look. Far be it from me to ruin a man’s career over a few loaves of bread and some medicines.”

  “T-t-thank you.” The guard leaned over and pawed through the basket. Mara’s anxiety ratcheted up several levels when he pulled a glass vial from the basket and frowned. “What’s this?”

  Her heart stopped. That particular vial he held contained the Soperallias elixir which would awaken the Gifts of the dregs in the encampment.

  “Medicine,” Oona said firmly.

  The guard’s suspicious look volleyed between them. “Where are you taking it?”

  “Surely you’ve heard about Lady Mara, betrothed to Prince Isaac. The emperor himself approved her project to improve the conditions in both the outer ring and the dreg encampment. We’re on our way to make a routine delivery.”

  Approved was a str
etch. When he’d first heard of the project, the emperor had looked like he’d swallowed a wasp.

  “See?” Mara pulled back the corner of the towel covering her basket to reveal apples, beets, and a few loaves of bread from the palace kitchens.

  “But,” his eyebrows shelved over his eyes, “why is she taking it herself instead of sending servants? The dreg encampment is no place for a woman of fine breeding, especially without an escort.”

  Mara pressed her lips together. Just a few months ago, Mara had been a dreg herself.

  Oona smiled sweetly. “It’s good for the people to see their future empress among the people. Prince Isaac himself gave permission for her to come today.”

  The guard wavered between enforcing protocol and submitting to Isaac’s authority. His shoulders caved, and he nodded, taking a step back. “Very well. You may proceed.”

  Every muscle in Mara’s body relaxed. That had been too close. “Thank you. We’ll just be going th—"

  “But I must accompany you.”

  Oona’s face puckered, and Mara was certain hers was a mirror image. “That isn’t necessary.”

  “I insist. If something happened to you out there, the prince would have my head.”

  Mara cast a side-long glance at Oona. Without prompting, Oona gave an almost imperceptible nod and looped her arm through the guard’s. “That is so thoughtful of you. Positively gallant! You have no idea how brutish some of the other men are with no concept of chivalry. How long have you been a guard?”

  His chest swelled. “I’ve been training for five years. This is my first post.”

  “On the outer gate! You must be so brave.”

  “Oh, it’s not so bad.” He led them out through the gate. “Mostly just merchants traveling to trade, and occasionally we have trouble with the refugees.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Mara asked.

  He looked at her over Oona’s head. The ground sloped slightly as they followed the path toward the encampment. “Just the usual riff raff. They breed savages in Lingate. It’s not uncommon for a minor squabble to escalate into cold-blooded murder, and it’s up to us guards to protect the city.”

  Oona clutched his arm tighter and giggled, even though what he’d said wasn’t funny. Mara thought she was laying it on a little too thick. “They sound dreadful. Why does the emperor tolerate them living this close to the city if they cause so much trouble?”

  “I’m not in the right paygrade to answer that question,” the guard said wryly.

  They arrived on the outskirts of the dreg encampment and the sight filled Mara with pride. New construction had been erected, provided sturdier homes for the dregs to live in while they waited to be Gifted. The buildings were nothing fancy or extravagant, but they were warm and provided much-needed shelter. Some dregs still lived in tents and makeshift shelters since priority was given to the children and their caregivers, but Mara hoped all the buildings would be empty soon.

  In addition to the homes, she had hired a team of Saxum and Irrigos to dig a new well for drinking water, a new bathhouse with heated water, and a latrine that would take the waste away from the encampment. Already, the smell was improving. She surveyed the products of her efforts with satisfaction.

  Mara took Oona’s basket and pulled ahead, “Why don’t you wait here? It won’t take long for me to drop these off.”

  The guard shook his head. “Not possible. I need to stay with you.”

  Mara wanted to scream. Her own guards weren’t this clingy. She shot a panicked look at Oona, who simpered at the guard. “I don’t want to spend time in a smelly, stuffy tent. Why don’t we go for a walk? You’ll still be close enough if she needs help.”

  She pouted and the guard’s certainty wavered. Mara held her breath.

  “That sounds . . . reasonable.”

  “Wonderful!” Oona rewarded him with a beaming smile and led him in the opposite direction.

  Mara hurried to Evelyn’s tent before he changed his mind.

  Kya waited outside the tent with her arms crossed, glaring at Mara like she had kicked a puppy. A black one-eyed kitten sat on her shoulder, rubbing its furry cheek on Kya’s fire-red hair. “You’re late.”

  “Sorry, we had some trouble with the guards.” Mara tried to walk around her, but she stepped into her path.

  “You brought one to camp.”

  “I couldn’t help it. He insisted on coming along and we couldn’t refuse without raising suspicion.”

  “We don’t need your excuses.”

  Mara bit her tongue and followed Kya into the tent. Evelyn sat on her bed in the corner, a ball of red yarn at her feet. Her needles clacked together in a steady rhythm as she formed the stitches. It looked like the start of a blanket, but Mara wasn’t sure. She set the baskets just inside the entrance where Evelyn wouldn’t trip over them.

  “Evelyn? It’s me, Mara.”

  The elderly woman turned her head toward her voice, her milky eyes rooted to a spot just to Mara’s left. “Good of you to stop by.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. We had some trouble with the guards.”

  “No need to apologize, child. We’re grateful for all you’re doing for us.”

  Kya snorted and rolled her eyes.

  The attitude was grating on Mara. “Kya, are you sure you don’t want to be Gifted? I brought enough elixir with me.”

  “Why would I want that? I’m just fine as a dreg, and I don’t see why I need to change.”

  Mara opened her mouth to respond, closed it, then opened it again. They’d had this conversation dozens of times, but Kya was adamant that she didn’t want to be Gifted. Her eyes traveled back to where Evelyn sat, knitting. Mara had asked Alex if it was possible to re-Gift someone who had lost theirs to a Guardian. He’d said no, that the change was permanent. No amount of elixirs could reverse the effects. Mara wondered now if Kya’s refusal was because of stubbornness and pride or if she couldn’t bear to leave Evelyn when the time came.

  It wasn’t an argument she’d win.

  “As you wish.” She gestured to the baskets. “Please distribute the food as needed and administer the elixirs as soon as possible. I’ll send someone with new identifications cards as soon as we know what their new Gifts are. Ella is working to find additional housing to accommodate them but remind them to come into the city in pairs. The guards would take notice if there was a sudden migration of hundreds of former dregs.”

  “How are the others adjusting?”

  “Really well. Most have found jobs already, and a few started training with Mikkal last week.”

  Evelyn chuckled. “Still planning on turning them into your own private army, eh?”

  “Only for those who are willing and able to fight. I won’t force them.”

  “I doubt it would come to that. Everyone despises the Order as much as you do.”

  “It still won’t be enough. Not yet.” Even if they Gifted every dreg in Merrowhaven, they would still be grossly outnumbered and outmatched. Unless something miraculous happened, it would take years before they could challenge the Order. The idea of leaving Cadmus in charge for even another day filled her with despair.

  Evelyn clucked her tongue. “Patience, child. Merrowhaven wasn’t built in a day.”

  Mara started to respond, but the smell of smoke distracted her. Moments later, the tent flap flew open and a frazzled-looking woman rushed inside. “Evelyn, there’s a fire in one of the new houses!”

  Evelyn dropped her knitting on the ground and jumped to her feet. She reached out to steady herself on a tent pole. “What happened?”

  The woman winced. “Cal turned out to be an Ignis.”

  “Gods save us all. That’s what we get for Gifting toddlers. Was anyone hurt?”

  “No, but the guard out there is asking questions.”

  “Tell him that a cookfire spread to the house or a candle tipped over. Something. Anything to keep him satisfied.”

  The woman ran back outside.

&n
bsp; “Is there anything I can do?” Mara asked, feeling guilty that they would lose one of the new homes so soon.

  “I think you’ve done enough. Ask Ella to find the boy’s parents in the city. One of them must be an Ignis, and he needs to learn to manage his Gift before he burns everything to the ground. A tantrum is bad enough, but when you add fire to the mix . . . bah!”

  7

  After leaving the dreg encampment, Mara sent Oona back to the palace. The guard had returned to his post at the outer gate looking shaken by the fire and baffled by Oona’s sudden disinterest in him.

  Mara found Ella inside a squat townhome that had been converted into a makeshift apothecary in the outer ring. The building had been renovated to accommodate customers and the outside painted a cheerful yellow with a sign welcoming everyone regardless of their ability to pay. Two of the newly Gifted were Cultors, and Ella had immediately put them to work growing fresh fruit and vegetables in the small plot out back. They produced as quickly as they could, but no matter how much they grew it always seemed to vanish within a day and at this rate they would need more gold to purchase seeds.

  She pushed open the door, a little bell ringing to announce her presence. The center of the room was open, the hardwood flooring covered by a colorful rug. Shelves bordered the left wall, each stocked with well-organized jars, bottles, and vials. The shelves on the right side of the room held near-empty baskets of carrots, beans, potatoes, and beets. Racks of second-hand tunics, blankets, socks, and trousers along with boxes filled with basic necessities like soap and candles waited to be browsed in the front corner of the shop.

  Antiseptic and the smell of sickness blended together, drawing Mara’s eyes to the hallway leading toward the back of the house. Wooden benches sat in a shallow alcove in front of a swinging door. Two days a week, a Healer came to treat the residents of the outer ring. He wasn’t happy about the work, but Mara paid him enough that he kept coming back.