He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “You promise?”
“Promise.”
Accepting her words as truth, he nodded, and his voice turned shy. “Is it true then? Is my father really in Lingate?”
Mara pulled back and stared down at him, mouth agape. “You put me through all that and you didn’t even know if it was true?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to tell with these tabloids. The one I saw last week claimed that the refugees from Lingate are actually skin changers who sacrifice goats during the full moon. Wynn swears it’s true, but she says it with one of those little winks that lets you know she’s kidding.”
Mara snorted and pressed her lips together. She’d have to have a word with Wynn about that. “In this case, it’s true. I told you your father hadn’t abandoned you, didn’t I? He’s been conquering Lingate one city at a time, uniting the clans to fight for him. Then he’s going to challenge the Warlord so he’ll have an army big enough to fight the Order.”
Tamil’s expression intensified. “Cadmus will regret the day he messed with Kearar.”
Long after Tamil had left to find Wynn, Mara paced in her room. Her list of demands was growing, and she was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the strain. It was too much for one person.
Her eyes caught on the drawer where she’d stuffed the poison.
Who could she turn to? Her first thought was Ethan, but she couldn’t bear to think about him being disappointed in her. Wynn? No, she would go hunt Darby down and kill him—Betsy, too. Oona would just tell her that she’d gotten herself into this mess, and she could get herself out.
Could she go tell Isaac that she was being blackmailed? Surely the guards would increase watch around the palace so she’d be safe. But then she’d have to explain why she’d gotten herself into this predicament in the first place. And going to the emperor was out of the question.
There were no other options. She’d have to just go through with it.
She sat on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. What was she going to do now?
11
The next morning, Mara paid a visit to the new training facility Ella had found in the outer ring. The old factory had once manufactured paper but had been vacated five years ago when the owner could no longer pay rent. Mikkal had wasted no time in clearing out the interior space to make room for the Gifted to train. The windows on the main level had been boarded up for additional privacy from prying eyes, and the stone floor had been swept of debris. The faded brick exterior had been buried under years of paint from adolescent expression.
It looked abandoned, which is exactly what they needed.
This area of Merrowhaven got little foot traffic, and the locals were used to keeping their mouths shut. Loose tongues tended to disappear. And if the threat of gang violence and crime wasn’t enough to keep people away, the smell certainly would. Like a combination of rotten eggs and decomp, it draped over this section of the city, permeating through clothes and hair until Mara was certain it would never come out.
Mara was initially worried about the safety of her Gifted in a place like this, but the thought was laughable at this point. None of them would be safe until the Order was destroyed, and this brought her one step closer to reaching her goal. She couldn’t wait to see how the Gifted were progressing. She pushed open the large metal door and stepped inside.
Mikkal stood at the front of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. His long, brown hair hung loose around his shoulders and his beard was trimmed short. He wore a plain brown tunic and pants that tucked into his soft leather boots. Convinced there was something magical about the boots, Mara had demanded to examine them once, but it turned out that it was just his skills that enabled Mikkal to move so silently. He’d spent his whole life training as a Shield, and that was one of the many rewards that came from all his hard work. He gave her a polite nod, then turned back to his students.
Sitting on the floor before Mikkal were two dozen of her Gifted. When they’d started, Mara and Mikkal had agreed that training in smaller groups would attract less attention than training one hundred at once. Her only worry was that it would take longer to train everyone at this rate.
She leaned against the wall and watched as Mikkal began the class, grouping the students by Gift—Armises in one while those with elemental Gifts were in the other. She didn’t see any of the Cultors, Farbers, or Brutum who had volunteered, so she assumed they would train in a different rotation. That was fine with her. One of the Brutum had bonded with a brown bear and while Mikkal was thrilled about the possibilities, Mara did not want to be trapped in the same room as the beast. She didn’t trust the Brutum’s ability to control his familiar yet. Just her luck, the bear would snap and go on a rampage.
While the Armises practiced manifesting their weapons with varying degrees of success, Mikkal walked around the group of elementals and asked them to show him their progress. A silver-eyed Irrigo was already able to form streams of water, but one of the Saxums struggled to hover a rock in the air. Mara winced in sympathy. In Tregydar, Opal had forced her to lift rock after rock and called it training. It was harder than it looked. Not the actual moving part, per se. Once she’d realized she was trying too hard, it was easy. The hard part was maintaining control. Once she had accidentally hit one of the Tregydarian guards in the head after she’d overestimated the strength needed to move the stupid thing.
Mikkal led a Caeli and an Ignis over to a row of candles he’d set up on a bench away from the others. Mara leaned forward as Mikkal explained the rules. The Ignis had to light as many candles as he could while the Caeli would try to blow them out without knocking them over. Her eyebrows rose. The skill level needed for this exercise was higher than she expected. Mara watched the Ignis with interest. If Ella couldn’t find Cal’s parents in the city, this Ignis might be a good choice for surrogate parent.
After an hour, the Gifted dripped with sweat and their bodies dragged as they left the factory. Mara poured a cup of water and handed it to Mikkal. She wanted to talk to him about the deal she’d made with Betsy, but how could she broach the subject without revealing everything? If she told him about the poison, he’d probably insist on doing the job himself. Either that, or he’d hunt Darby down and kill him. Not a bad idea, now that she thought about it. Darby had seemed terrified of Mikkal. But while it would solve one of her problems, it would only add more. She already had too many enemies, and she couldn’t afford to get on Betsy’s bad side. He had the ability to identify her, and if his son turned up dead, there was nothing stopping him from going to the emperor. They were at an uneasy crossroads.
Mikkal took the glass of water and drained it in one gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and arched an eyebrow at her. “I’ve never known you to stay quiet for so long. You sick?”
“You’re one to talk.” She snorted. “Your group seems to be coming along well. They’ve made more progress than I hoped.”
“For the short period of time I’ve been working with them, I agree. They’ve exceeded my expectations, and I believe you’ll be pleased with the results.”
“Do you think they’ll be ready in time?”
“That depends on your timeline. If you’re planning to march out next week, absolutely not. It would be like sending an army of kittens against wolves. A couple years would optimize their potential, but they could be in fighting shape within a few months.”
“That soon?”
“You’ll find that mentality is ninety percent of the battle. People forced into war will never fight as well as people who go willingly. Every one of these Gifted want their slice of revenge, and they’ll risk everything to get it.”
It humbled her that they were willing to risk their lives for her. “How many do we have so far?”
“Of those capable of fighting? One hundred and twenty-six, and there are still two thousand dregs waiting to be Gifted. Assum
ing at least half of those will have weaponized Gifts, you’ll end up with a decent-sized army.”
She deflated. “But nowhere close to the number of disciples Cadmus has.” Without more soldiers, they couldn’t hope to win against the Order head-on. It just wasn’t possible.
“Don’t give up hope yet. Oona was able to reach a few of the nearby settlements. There are at least one hundred more dregs who want to be Gifted on their way to Merrowhaven before snow makes the roads untravelable. I’m sure there are more. We’ll find each and every person willing to fight.” He paused, as if he were worried about her reaction to what he’d say next. “You know . . . the Rei has a good idea.”
She stilled, certain she’d misheard him. “What do you mean?”
“Think about what he’s been able to accomplish. Alone, the Kerani people don’t have the numbers to wage a significant threat against the Order. By invading Lingate, he’s quadrupled the size of his army, and with each battle he wins, his strength—and his numbers—grow.”
“I don’t see how that helps us. It’s not like I have the freedom to go to Lingate and ask for recruits door-to-door.”
“No, but you don’t have to go to Lingate to petition the clans.”
It took her a moment to understand, but when she did, it was like a bolt of lightning to the face. “The refugees!”
“Exactly.”
Her hope dimmed. “But if they fled Lingate, wouldn’t that suggest they’re too old or weak to fight?”
“Not necessarily. Some people may have left because they’re tired of the Warlord’s brutality and the constant civil war that threatens their families every day. They’re ready for a change.”
“If you say so,” she said without enthusiasm. “I mean, it’s worth a shot, but I don’t know how much success I’ll have persuading them to leave their newfound safety to risk dying in a war that doesn’t affect them.”
“I think you’ll find that they’re dissatisfied with how they’ve been treated here. They came looking for refuge in the city and instead, they were relegated to the other side of the wall, not even close to the front gate. They’re having a difficult time surviving.”
She tilted her head. “How do you know this?”
“Wynn has gone to the camp a few times now. She said the conditions are almost as bad as those in the dreg encampment.”
Mara’s heart sank. “She didn’t tell me.”
“She didn’t want you to worry,” he said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “You’ve had enough on your plate lately without adding another thing to worry about. The point is that you might have an easier time with them than you think.”
“I’ll ask Wynn if she can speak with them for me. It’s worth a chance.”
Mikkal walked around the room, straightening up the training equipment for the next group. Mara pitched in, figuring she should do something to help instead of standing around awkwardly. As she lined up the candles, she practiced how she would ask Mikkal about the poison. She had to at least know what it did. Maybe it was just a simple sleeping serum. Wouldn’t that be handy? She could slip the contents of the vial into his drink and he’d take a nap, no harm done. But if it was deadly, how could she live with herself?
“You look like you’re in pain. Just spit it out already!”
She blinked and opened her mouth, but instead of asking him to identify the poison, she asked, “Mikkal, can you tell me about your training?”
He sighed. “I was wondering when you were going to bring that up. Honestly, I’m surprised it’s taken this long.”
“If it’s none of my business, you can just tell me to leave it alone.”
He grew contemplative. “It’s fine, but it’s a long story. We’d better get comfortable.”
They sat on the floor, Mikkal with his legs kicked out before him and crossed at the ankle. His elbows rested on the floor behind him. Mara leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand.
“A Shield is both a Gift and a title. The moment a Magi awakens our Gift and declares us a Shield, our fate is sealed, and it’s only a matter of time before we’re ripped away from our families. I was five when the council came for me. Michelle was only three at the time, and she couldn’t understand why these strange men were taking her brother. I don’t remember much of my life before the island, but I remember . . .” he struggled for the words, “impressions. Salt-crusted boots by the door. The smell of taffy boiling on the stove. My pants rolled up to my knees as I waded through the surf. I was happy, I think. I remember clutching my mother’s skirts so tightly they tore when the men ripped me away. I remember the exact shade of fabric—green like the color of seedlings when they push up through the soil—but I can’t remember her face. I never saw her again.
“They took me to a secluded island off the southern coast of East Rock. The exact location is a carefully-guarded secret, known only to fully-trained Shields. Any ship that stumbles upon the island, whether accidentally or otherwise, is sunk on sight and the survivors killed without mercy. Each country has its own hidden training facility, and none want to share secrets. Shields are molded and shaped for one purpose—to serve their future patrons—and those patrons will pay an astronomical sum to buy one.
“On our first night, we were given a dose of poison with dinner. Just a small amount—enough to make us sick but not enough to kill us. Over the years, the dosage is increased until we’re all-but immune to most poisons and can identify them as well as a Venelo. We’re taught swordplay, survival, tracking, navigation, and court etiquette. A motley mix, admittedly, but we had to be prepared for anything. As we got older, the demands grew. They began to torture us to build up our resistance to pain. Because of how close we are to our patrons, it’s inevitable that we would become targets. If an enemy were to capture us, we had to be able to resist torture. By the time we turned eighteen, we were fully trained, but we weren’t ready to graduate yet. We still had to face the final test.”
Mara listened quietly, but her mind kept going back to what he’d said about the poisons. If it were true, maybe he could help her.
“We were blindfolded and taken to the mainland where they dumped us in the wild with nothing but a knife, a tin of matches, and a lethal dose of slow-acting poison. We had one month to find our way back to the island and receive the antidote or we’d die. Some tried to run, unable to believe the council would kill their investment. Some simply couldn’t make it back in time. Out of our class of fifty, only five survived long enough to reach the island.
“That week, the Miestryri summoned us to the capital so he could purchase a Shield for his son. I was the top of my class, and the obvious choice. I took my vows that night and received my mark at the same time.” He turned and lifted his hair to reveal the tiny shield tattoo on the back of his neck.
Without a word, Mara reached into the pouch at her waist and pulled out the vial. Before she could change her mind, she handed it over to Mikkal, whose face was twisted with confusion. His brows lowered as he held it up to the light. He popped the cork and gave it a sniff before touching it to the tip of his tongue. He rolled the flavor around his mouth before spitting violently on the floor. He gagged. “Mara, why do you have a vial of heartsbane?”
She shifted uncomfortably. If his reaction was anything to go by, she was in real trouble. “Is it bad?”
“The worst. There’s a reason why it’s illegal in every country. Is this why you wanted to know about my training?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
He ran a palm down his face. “Where did you get this?”
“Remember when I had to escape the underground market when the guards raided it and I mentioned that a vendor helped me escape? He didn’t exactly do it for free. He helped me in exchange for a favor.”
“And this is the favor?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know he’d ask me to poison someone! And now I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“No, I can’t a
sk you to do that. You’re far too important, and if you’re caught, it would mean the end of the army.”
“I’m no stranger to death,” he said, and Mara was reminded of what Darby had said. “This wouldn’t be the first person I’ve killed, and it won’t be the last.” His face hardened as if remembering his past. Mara was too much of a coward to ask.
She took the poison from his hand and tucked it back into the pouch. “How . . . how long does it take to work? Will he suffer?”
“Most symptoms begin to appear instantaneously, but it can take as long as a few hours to take effect. It paralyzes the muscles. At first, they might feel like their leg has fallen asleep, but it spreads until they can’t move their arms and legs. As it spreads, the lungs stop working and finally, the heart stops. It’s a terrifying way to die.”
That sounded horrifying. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. Could she really do this? It would be simple. One tiny bit of poison and it would be over. She could put this behind her and move on in her goal to destroy Cadmus. What was one life against thousands?
“You know he won’t stop with this, right?” Mara glanced up sharply. Mikkal tipped his head toward the pouch. “The vendor. He knows your face now, and I’m sure he knows who you are. If you think this will end with this one favor, you’re sadly mistaken. He’ll continue to extort you as long as it’s profitable for him, then he’ll turn you in.”
That’s exactly what she’d thought would happen. She hadn’t considered the possibility of being in his debt.
The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus Page 76