Dreg (The Dreg Trilogy Book 1)

by Bethany Hoeflich

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Mara screamed, exploding from her hiding place.

  The boys’ initial expressions of alarm faded the moment they saw her. She swallowed, recognizing Thomas, the son of an elder. If they came to blows, it would be his word against hers. Just how badly would she be beaten for this?

  Thomas’s cruel face pulled back in a threatening smile as he swaggered up to her. “What does it look like, dreg? Or maybe you’d like a turn?”

  They moved to surround her, forgetting Tobias in favor of new prey. “We’re more than happy to teach you a lesson, too.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, fighting her impulse to run. Where was Ansel? So much for not leaving her unprotected. Five untrained thugs would be no match for him. Mara squared her shoulders, trying to appear more confident than she felt. “Leave him alone, Thomas,” she said, her voice wavering.

  “What’s the matter, dreg? Not so tough without your pet Armis, hmm?”

  Mara drew her dagger, cursing under her breath. A dagger against five? She didn’t like her odds. Still, she couldn’t back out now. Tobias needed her.

  “Oh no, run away boys. The girl’s got a kitchen knife.”

  Their jeers pelted her from all sides and her face flamed. The boys tightened the circle around her, blocking her escape. She widened her stance, adjusting the grip on her dagger. Fine. If they wanted a fight, she would give them one, no matter the cost.

  Thomas smirked, holding his arms out to his sides. “Go ahead. I’ll even let you get in a couple swipes. Watching you get whipped again would be worth a few cuts.”

  “Perhaps you’d rather fight someone your own size?” Ansel said, stepping into the clearing, picking leaves and twigs out of his hair. The boys cringed, exchanging nervous glances. All of their former arrogance melted away like butter on a hot stove. Ansel strode closer, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t imagine the elders would be pleased to see you beating a helpless old man and a girl. Would they?”

  The boys shook their heads, looking everywhere except at Ansel.

  “That’s what I thought. So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to leave now, and if I ever catch you here again, I’ll repay you double in bruises and broken bones.”

  “Yes, sir!” They replied in unison and scurried off like cockroaches.

  Mara marched over to Ansel and shoved him. “What took you so long?”

  “Sorry, I’m not as quick as you are in the woods,” Ansel said. “Besides, I was busy gathering the things you dropped.” He held up her pack and bow.

  Mara opened her mouth, ready to give him a proper tongue-lashing, but a moan from Tobias interrupted her. She rushed over, brushing his long, greasy hair out of his eyes. “Shh. You’re safe now, Tobias. It’s just me. You’re going to be okay,” she said in a quiet, sing-song voice that one would use when dealing with a toddler, rather than a full-grown man. It wasn’t that long ago that their roles were reversed. “Here, let me help you up.” She gripped under his trembling arms and lifted until he was sitting against the wall of his hut. A vile stench, like rotting tomatoes and refuse, wafted up her nose. It took all of her willpower to not retch.

  “Mara? That you?” His weak voice asked. He lifted a trembling hand to her cheek.

  “Yes, I’m here. Those boys are gone,” she replied. Muttering under her breath, she added, “And if they ever hurt you again, they’re dead.”

  He started rocking, arms wrapped around his knees. She watched with growing pangs of dismay. When he was deep in the throes of these fits, it was nearly impossible to pull him out. Considering the trauma he had experienced, she couldn’t blame him. A body could only take so much. It was only getting worse and she didn’t know why.

  Mara stroked his back, eyeing his filthy, threadbare clothes. “I have an extra set of clothes in my pack. Why don’t you change so I can wash the ones you’re wearing? You’ll feel so much better in a clean tunic.”

  He scratched at his salt and pepper beard, like a dog scratching a bothersome itch, showing no signs of hearing her. Without a word, he snatched the clean clothes from her hands and limped inside for privacy. Mara sighed in relief. It had taken her months of constant reminders before he stopped stripping in front of her.

  “Mara, you need to report this.”

  “What a great idea Ansel. I’ll just walk up to elder John and say, ‘Nice weather we’re having. Oh, by the way, your son is leading a gang and beating dregs.’ Please, you know he won’t care,” Mara said. She stared out into the forest, swallowing. “No one cares.”

  Ansel walked over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I care.” At her skeptical look, he continued. “I know I don’t always understand what you’re going through, but I’ll always be here for you.”

  She smiled, elbowing him in the ribs. “Thanks, Ansel.”

  Tobias stepped outside, holding a bundle of dirty clothes under his arm. He dropped them in a pile at her feet then pressed something into her hands. “This for you.”

  Mara held it with quiet reverence. It was a wolf, hand carved from birch wood. She turned it over once, then twice, marveling at the intricate craftsmanship. “Thank you, Tobias. It’s beautiful. Here, I have something for you, too,” she said, reaching for her pack. “Peaches, picked fresh this morning!”

  “Thank you, Mara.”

  “I’ll come back to check on you tomorrow, okay?”

  At his nod, she and Ansel walked back onto the trail. Ansel took the lead this time, shoving branches out of the way as though they personally offended him. Every few feet, he swiped at biting insects. He slowed down until they walked side by side, kicking up dust with each step. “Mara? Why do you care so much for Tobias?”

  She didn’t answer right away, trying to think of something he might understand. “Do you ever wonder why Tobias is the way he is?”

  “You mean insane? Obviously, it’s because he doesn’t have a Gift,” Ansel said, parroting the same tired lessons he heard from the elders and Magi. “Not having a Gift is like losing an arm or a leg. A Gift is an extension of your true self, your soul. Missing such an important part of yourself slowly drives you crazy… um, no offense.”

  Mara snorted. He could be so dense sometimes. How could a Gifted possibly understand what a dreg went through every day? “But what if that’s not true? What if it’s because of how he’s been treated all his life? Year after year of being told you’re worthless has to wear on your soul.” Her jaw snapped shut so fast that she bit her tongue. That last part had slipped out without her permission. It was way too close to how she felt every day.

  Ansel eyed her thoughtfully, tapping a finger on his lips. “So, you’re saying that you help because…”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.” Mara turned the wolf over in her hands, running a finger over the polished wood before tossing it to Ansel. “Look at this. Really look. Tobias should be living in a big city house, creating art for fancy people. But since he’s a dreg, he’s forced to live in poverty on the outskirts of town, carving toys out of scraps. No one appreciates him because he doesn’t have a Gift.”

  “He obviously has talent. I wonder why he wasn’t Gifted?”

  Mara sighed. “I’ve asked, but either he doesn’t know, or he won’t talk about it.” None of it made sense to her. Why had the Magi refused to Gift Tobias, the gentlest, kindest man she knew? There were far more violent, destructive Gifted running rampant.

  As if sensing her darkening mood, Ansel quieted. He could be a thoughtless oaf at times, but he knew her well enough to know when he should drop the subject. They slipped into companionable silence for the rest of the trek, eager to put this behind them.

  Chapter Two

  The sight of the lake took Mara’s breath away. Wildflowers cascaded down the field that encircled the lake as a gentle breeze rippled the surface of the water making it glitter like diamonds in the afternoon sun. A white heron fished in the shallows, raising a swirling cloud of mu
d with each graceful step. Along the edges of the forest, blackberry bushes sagged under the weight of their ripening fruit, making her mouth water. In the distance, a falcon’s shriek added to a chorus of bullfrogs.

  Mara dropped her pack and bow in a heap. She kicked off her boots, then sprinted toward the water, shouting, “Race you!” Ansel, not one to resist a challenge, chased after her, shedding clothing with each step. Mara reached the shore and dove in a split second before him.

  Ansel popped up to the surface and splashed her. “You cheated.”

  “Stop whining. It’s not my fault you’re slower than an Irrigo in a drought.”

  That’s when she noticed how little he was wearing, and she whirled around before he could see her face redden. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen Ansel in his underthings, but it was improper now. Soon, the elders would announce his betrothal, and, after the customary year-long engagement, he’d be a married man.

  “Coming here was a mistake.”

  “Relax, Mara,” Ansel said, laying back to float in the water. ”It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong.”

  “But what if someone sees us?” She scanned the tree line, half expecting someone to jump out.

  “No one knows we’re here and I doubt they’ll miss us.”

  Mara scoffed. “Correction, no one will miss me. You, on the other hand...”

  “I would miss you.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t count. You’re the only person who treats me like a… well… person. I don’t fit in here. I don’t fit in anywhere.”

  Ansel sat up in the water, his face growing serious. “Are you okay, Mara?”

  “No, not really. You have everything you could possibly want: a Gift, the respect of the town, a future... I have nothing. Without a Gift, I am nothing. A nobody. I can’t even have a family.”

  “Do you even want a family?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

  “Yes… no... I don’t know. I just wish I had the choice, if that makes sense.”

  “But, Mara, having a family doesn’t mean you have a choice. I have to marry whoever the elders choose. Forget love. My entire life is planned out for me. In a sense, a Gift is as much a shackle as being a dreg.”

  “I never thought about it that way.”

  He shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s not like I can do anything about it. Okay, look. If you want to fit in, try to be more…” He pursed his lips, as though he were fighting back a laugh. “Friendly?”

  “I am friendly!” Mara scowled, splashing him.

  “Very convincing,” Ansel laughed. “You did threaten the son of a respected elder today.”

  “You’re joking, right? He was beating Tobias! What else was I supposed to do?”

  He grew suddenly serious, his eyebrows lowering into a frown as he swam closer. Close enough to touch her shoulder, or to give her a thorough lecture. Knowing Ansel, it was probably the latter. His words confirmed her suspicion as he said, “I know you care about Tobias, but you were reckless. Why didn’t you wait for me, Mara? I worry that you’ll go too far and end up killing someone someday. You know the law. If you killed a Gifted, they wouldn’t even give you a fair trial. I can’t watch my best friend be executed.”

  “Oh please, I’m not going to kill anyone, but I can’t promise that I’ll just stand by and do nothing.” Tobias was like a brother to her, or maybe a crazy uncle, all things considered. As the only other dreg in Stonehollow, he was family. Anyone who hurt him, hurt her, and she wasn’t about to let them get away with it. She would make them pay for every cut and bruise, no matter the cost. When she had been at her lowest point, Tobias had given her comfort. Now, it was her turn to repay the favor.

  “Fair enough. But you do realize that by acting that way, you’re just confirming their belief that dregs are barbaric and don’t belong in society.”

  Mara huffed and crossed her arms, aiming for a smooth, arrogant look. The biting horsefly on her shoulder ruined her efforts as she swiped at it, flailing about like she’d had too much ale. To his credit, Ansel didn’t laugh. “One person isn’t going to change the world. Or the law, for that matter.”

  “No, but it can’t hurt. Look, the laws aren’t just, but they’re still the law,” he replied. “Let’s try this again. You don’t have to be friendly, just stop acting like a troll that hasn’t seen the sun in eighteen years.”

  “Who are you calling a –”

  “Mara, look out!”

  Startled, she glanced up just in time to see talons diving at her face. Mara ducked under the surface, pulling water into her lungs with a shocked breath. She burst out, coughing and spluttering, and watched as the falcon circled once overhead before landing on a girl’s outstretched arm. Mara glared at the slim girl who was doubled over in laughter.

  “You should have seen your face!” she howled, clutching her midsection.

  “What do you want, Oona?”

  Oona ran a hand down the falcon’s sleek body then tilted her head as if she were listening to him. As an Avem, she had the ability to communicate telepathically with birds. She smirked, cocking her hip out. “You two, obviously. I just had to find out why the village hero was sneaking off with scum. On the day of the funeral no less.”

  Mara trudged to the shore, toes squishing in the muck. “Your bird almost took my eyes out!”

  “Hardly. Zeke’s just a harmless pet,” Oona said, throwing the falcon back into the air with a haughty grin.

  “Harmless, huh?” Mara said, casting a devilish grin at Oona. In one smooth motion, she picked up her bow, nocked an arrow and drew it back. “I could make sure he’s harmless right now.” The chances of her actually hitting the falcon were about as good as the elders throwing a festival in her honor, but Oona didn’t need to know that.

  Oona stepped forward, fists clenched, eyes narrowed to slits. After a band of traveling performers from Kearar passed through Stonehollow last month, she had started rimming her eyes with charcoal. She thought it made her look more exotic and deadly. Mara thought she looked ridiculous. “Hurt him and you’ll pay dearly, dreg.”

  “Oh come on, Oona. Mara was just teasing,” Ansel said. He threw them a lopsided grin before shaking his hair out like a puppy. Oona squealed as the droplets hit her skin.

  Mara hid a smile behind her hand. “Of course,” she said, relaxing her bow arm. “Well, this has been a pleasure. Congratulations, you found us. Now you can leave.”

  “Not so fast,” Oona said, turning to Ansel. “Several elders have noticed your absence.”

  Ansel pulled on his tunic and straightened the hem. “So? I’m not their lap dog.”

  Oona’s gaze pierced Mara’s and her voice dripped with honey. “I would just hate for ugly rumors to spread around, you know?”

  Mara knew exactly who would start the rumors, and while she didn’t care about her own reputation, she didn’t want Ansel’s tarnished by association. She stomped over to where she left her boots and pulled them on.

  “What’s the rush?” Ansel asked.

  Mara wrung her wet hair. Great. It would be a frizzy mess once it dried. “No, maybe she’s right,” Mara said, spitting the words as if they tasted vile. She would rather eat dirt than admit Oona was right about anything.

  “I knew you would see reason,” Oona smirked.

  Mara shouldered her pack and set off towards town. She eyed the older girl, tamping down a flash of jealousy. She had everything. A powerful Gift. The respect of the town. A future.

  “Seriously, Oona, what’s the rush?” Ansel asked, jogging to keep up. “The funeral doesn’t start for a few hours.”

  “Oh, you’ll see,” she replied with a smug smile. She walked in pace with Mara, then leaned in and hissed, “Keep your hands and eyes off my husband, trash. Even better, stay away from him completely. Ansel will be an elder one day, everyone says so, and I won’t have you ruining it.”

  “What?” Mara stopped in shock. Did Oona say… husband? She must have misheard. Or maybe Ansel was
right, and she was going insane. Yes, that was it. It’s the only explanation that made sense.

  “You haven’t heard? Oh, silly me, of course you didn’t. It’s not like you are privy to all the important news, being a dreg and all. The elders decided that our pairing will lead to stronger offspring. Our parents agreed to the match and the betrothal was set yesterday.” Her eyes grew wistful and her voice adopted a sickeningly dreamy tone. “It will be just as the Order intends. We’ll build a new house on the edge of town. Everyone will come to the wedding, of course. Well, everyone except you. And then we’ll have six children. Three girls and three boys. Mostly Avem, obviously. But maybe an Armis or two…”

  Ansel turned green, pursing his lips.

  “Is this true? Why didn’t you tell me?” Mara asked, her voice cracking. He was her best friend. Why would he hide something like this from her? It stung.

  He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been pretending it’s one big nightmare. I’ll wake up engaged to literally anyone else. I should have told you.”

  Mara scrunched up her nose. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but she could be good for you.”

  “That’s not funny,” he grumbled.

  “I’m serious. She’s beautiful and strong. Plus she’s well connected in town. You could do worse.”

  “Yeah, but she’s not the one that I want.”

  Mara squinted at him out of the corners of her eyes. What was that supposed to mean? Did he like one of the other girls in town? Her own parents were lucky; they had been lovers long before their marriage was arranged. She couldn’t imagine being forced to marry someone she didn’t love. “I don’t suppose there’s any way out of it then?”

  “No, but no one gets married before they’re twenty anyway. Anything could happen. For instance, I could get struck by a runaway wagon,” he replied.

  “Don’t say that,” Mara said, smacking him on the arm.

  “Hurry up, Ansel baby! I can’t wait to show you off to all my friends!”

  Mara giggled and leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “On second thought, maybe she’ll get hit by the wagon.”