The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  “Why don’t we go visit it together? I mean, you’re determined to head north anyway . . .”

  “As fugitives. I want to find a safe place for dregs, not stroll straight into a city crawling with disciples!” She swallowed the bitterness in her voice and changed the subject. “So, what about Tova?”

  Ansel paused, brows scrunched in thought as he climbed over a boulder that blocked their path. “Honestly, I’m not sure. She doesn’t have an accent, and the way she talks and acts . . . she could be from anywhere. Maybe Esterwyn.” He reached down, offering a hand to help her over the rock.

  It was an uneasy alliance for sure. They knew little to nothing about the others, but inconvenient circumstances threw them together. Well, if a dagger to the throat could be considered inconvenient, that is.

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway. We’ll be leaving in the morning and good riddance,” Ansel said firmly.

  “What? What do you mean we’re leaving in the morning? I thought we would travel with the group for a while. For protection.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t like it. I think they suspect something. Especially Wynn. Ugh, that woman gives me the shivers.”

  “Suspect what?”

  “The fact that you’re not a dreg.”

  “I am a dreg. What happened in Stonehollow was a fluke, nothing more.”

  Ansel groaned, impatience coloring his words. “When will you stop lying to yourself? I was there! I saw what happened and believe me when I say that no green log could cause an explosion that big. You’re not a dreg, and I don’t think you’ll be safe with the others much longer…”

  He continued down the hall, not realizing she wasn’t following. Mara sidestepped a deep groove in the floor and peered into the first room on the left. The ceiling had collapsed, burying most of the furniture and decorations. She stepped inside, taking in the thick coat of dust, broken furniture and heaps of rock and debris. When her eyes settled on a foot, peeking out from beneath the rubble, she shrieked.

  Ansel charged in, sword held out before him. He blinked, realizing she was safe, then tucked the sword back in its sheath. “What were you thinking, Mara?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to look again, so she gestured behind her. His eyes widened in recognition before his face settled into a sympathetic mask. He wasn’t surprised. Of course he wouldn’t be. Hadn’t he come here before?

  Mara hugged herself and asked, “Why weren’t the bodies removed, Ansel. Why didn’t you remove them?”

  “It’s the law. Believe me, I wanted to, but my father forbade it. The emperor wants to keep the ruins as-is.”

  Barbaric, though it confirmed what she’d thought. What better way to keep a conquered people in check than with a constant reminder of what would happen if they resisted. Still, what sort of ruler refused a proper burial, even for his enemies?

  “Let’s keep searching, okay? Standing here won’t make you feel any better,” Ansel said. When she nodded, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her from the room. The next few passed in a blur, but at the last door on the right, she paused, feeling drawn to its sparse interior. Mara gazed at the tattered draperies, the skeleton of a bed and a few upturned chests.

  Ansel, apparently certain his quick glance had uncovered every secret, pressed her onward. She held up a hand, begging for a few extra minutes to explore. Realizing she wasn’t going to follow, he shrugged and moved on. Mara waited until his footsteps echoed up the stairs before stepping inside. There was something here. She could feel it.

  She traced the bed with her fingertips, wondering about the people who lived here. Even with the disrepair, the room was grand enough for a nobleman. A painting on the far wall caught her interest. She reached out to assemble the shredded bits of canvas and gasped. The man had a kind, fatherly face and the woman wore a beaming smile with long blonde hair. Both wore golden circlets on their heads.

  Mara’s eyes widened, realizing this was the royal chamber. She looked at the painting again, imagining Queen Trista’s final moments. Did she die in this room? And her infant son too? Mara looked down and spotted a brick that did not belong. While the others blended together seamlessly, this one stood out just a fraction. Not enough to draw unwanted attention, but enough to suggest it contained hidden secrets.

  She glanced to the door once to make sure no one was watching then drew her dagger, using it to pry the brick from the wall. It fell to the floor with a clatter and a puff of dust, revealing a shallow crevice. Hands shaking, she reached inside and pulled out a scroll. She unrolled it, hoping it was something useful. Her face fell at the few lines of unfamiliar script, written in a language she couldn’t read. A crude drawing was sketched at the bottom—a triangle with a circle in the center. It looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

  Ansel poked his head inside. “Nothing upstairs. You?”

  “Yes,” she said, holding the scroll out to show him. “I can’t read it, but what do you think of the drawing?”

  “Huh, that’s weird,” he said, squinting at the sketch. “It almost looks like your pendant, to tell you the truth.”

  “Truth . . . truth.” Mara’s eyes lit up in a moment of blissful clarity and she thought back to that day in Ethan’s office. The scroll . . .

  “Oh no. No, no, no. I know that look. You’re planning on doing something dangerous and stupid, aren’t you?”

  Mara feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would you even think such a thing?”

  “Because I’ve known you my whole life, obviously,” he said, eyes glittering. “You’re wearing the same look now as the time you convinced me to steal honey from a beehive. Bare handed.”

  “Oh please, don’t blame me for that one! Besides, I shared my mother’s honeycakes with you, didn’t I?”

  “You weren’t the one with a dozen stingers in your arms.”

  Mara huffed. He didn’t have to be such a baby about it. “Okay, fine. Just hear me out. Remember my birthday? Ethan took me back to his office and—”

  “Wait, Ethan? You’re on a first name basis with the Magi?” Ansel asked, scowling. If she read his expression correctly, he almost looked . . . jealous?

  “It wasn’t like that, you dolt. Besides, it doesn’t matter anymore. Not after . . .” Mara shook her head and swallowed. “Anyway, while we were there, a disciple came with a message and Ethan left me alone. I read the scroll.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “Hey, if he didn’t want me to read it, he shouldn’t have left it open on the desk. It’s not my fault he had an appalling sense of security. Now shut up and listen. The scroll was from Cadmus, the Head Magi. It mentioned fighting dreg sympathizers in Tregydar and, get this, the last line said something about the truth ruining everything if it gets out.”

  “What truth?”

  “That’s what I want to know. I think we should go to Tregydar.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “Obviously. I’m surprised it took you nineteen years to figure it out. Look, we don’t have to decide now. Let’s go check on the others and see what they found.”

  They crept down the corridor in search of the library until the sound of muffled voices echoed through a dark hallway. Mara paused by the door and motioned for Ansel to keep quiet so they could listen.

  “Don’t know why I didn’t kill ya a year ago. You’ll be the death of me yet . . . trustin’ strangers. Ye’re a lotta things, Steel, but I didn’t take ya for a fool.”

  “Back to the death threats, I see. I respect your opinions, Wynn, but it won’t change the outcome. They need to know our plans if they’re going to help us.”

  “Don’t get me started on yer plans. Just how many years has it been since ya saw him? Five, ten? Too risky. Safer to stay on the run and stay alive.”

  “Wynn, I’m surprised at you. I believe you’re overlooking a prime opportunity here.”

  “Prime opportunity my—”

  “Yes, well, we all u
nderstand your thoughts on the matter. You’ve done nothing but shout them at us for the past twenty minutes. The fact remains that none of us is safe, not with the Order in power. You know we can’t do this alone.”

  “Fine, but if I die, I’m coming back to haunt ya.”

  Mara’s heart stopped, and she fingered the pocket that concealed the scroll. Should she show it to them? She’d known they were keeping secrets, but these sounded big. The kind of secrets that could get them all killed. Couldn’t do what alone?

  Mara pushed the doors open with a loud squeak. The residual smell of ash and smoke clung to the tattered shell of what had been the castle’s library. The charred remains of bookshelves and scrolls littered the room. The group was seated around a wooden table, half of it blackened and peeling. Looking as carefree as ever, Steel sat back, hands clasped behind his head and boots propped up on the table. If he was concerned that she overheard their conversation, it didn’t show.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Steel ignored her question. “Glad you could both join us. Did you find anything?”

  “Unless you count skeletons and cobwebs, no,” Ansel replied, looping his fingers through his belt. Mara breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t ready to share the scroll with the others. Not yet.

  “Unfortunate. And you, Mara?”

  “Nope, nothing at all. How about you? Find anything to help your plans or…” She tugged on her sleeve, aiming to look nonchalant and failing miserably. Smooth, Mara. Real smooth. She caught Steel watching with his lips pursed together, as though he were trying not to laugh at her.

  “Hmm,” Wynn said, throwing her a dubious look.

  “Okay, seriously, what’s your problem? I saved your life, so this whole ‘treating me like a criminal’ thing is getting real old.”

  “Sure, ya skewered that Order lackey, but who led him to us in the first place?” Wynn stood suddenly, and her chair scraped across the stone floor. She stalked over in two long strides and shoved a scarred finger in Mara’s face. “Ya think we didn’t notice how the disciples found us just hours after we let ya join us?”

  Mara felt like screaming. Possibly breaking something, too. Screaming while breaking something would be better. Instead, she forced herself to stay calm. “Who led them to you? You’re kidding right? We were with you the whole time! Not to mention the fact that you practically kidnapped us to begin with. If Steel hadn’t insisted that we join you . . .”

  Steel barked out a laugh and slapped the table. “She has you there, Wynn!”

  “It was very nice to meet you, Steel, but I think it’s best that we leave.” Mara turned to go, motioning for Ansel to join her.

  “Wait! Don’t you want to know what we found?”

  Mara paused, curiosity getting the better of her. Steel gestured to the pile of scrolls and books in front of him, all coated in soot and none of them fully intact. Whether they had browned from age or from fire, she wasn’t certain. She walked over and picked one up, afraid the thin parchment would crumble beneath her fingers. Mara flipped through the pages, then picked up another. To her dismay, none of the books were written in the common tongue. However, the script did look similar to the writing on the scroll. “Can you read it?”

  Steel hummed in the back of his throat. “Not exactly. The language is ancient. Considering these books are over two hundred years old, I’d wager that no one alive can read, or speak it.”

  “Then this is a waste of time,” she said, disappointed.

  “Not necessarily. Did you happen to notice the mark at the top of the pages?”

  Mara frowned, taking a closer look. The mark was smudged and barely legible, but it almost looked like the eight-pointed star of the Order. “You believe these books are about the Order?”

  He dipped his head once. “I do.”

  “Well, even if they are, they won’t do you any good since you can’t read them.”

  “I have a friend in Kearar. Let’s just say he was a bit of a bookworm when I knew him. If anyone can translate this, he can. At the very least, he will give us a safe place to stay while we do our research.”

  “And you think he’d be willing to help you?” Mara asked. The performers who traveled through Stonehollow told the best tales of the desert kingdom, with land and people equally as harsh. A large part of her wanted to go, to see if the reality matched the stories.

  He shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out, and considering we don’t have a better option...”

  But Mara could offer an alternative. She gave Ansel a questioning look. He sighed in defeat and tilted his head. “What about Tregydar?”

  “And just why should we be following ya, girly?” Wynn asked, hands hovering dangerously close to her daggers.

  “I don’t care what you do. You could stay here for all I care, but have fun defending a ruin that could fall on your head in the next storm,” she said, raising her chin. “My father says that there’s a dreg haven up north, and I have reason to believe it’s in Tregydar. If you’re looking for a place to stay without the Order breathing down your neck, it just might be the safest place on the whole continent.”

  Steel tapped the table a few times, mulling it over. “Your idea is . . . intriguing. However, we hadn’t anticipated such a long journey. Mikkal?”

  His right-hand man unrolled a map and traced every possible route with his finger. He nodded once and gave Mara a wink.

  “Perfect! So, it’s settled then. We’ll stop in Oxrest for supplies, then travel east to Kearar. A journey to Tregydar will be long and perilous, so we will only go if my friend cannot give us aid. Agreed?”

  Mara paused. What was she getting into? These people were dangerous and, quite possibly, rebels! If she had any sense at all, she would run north and never look back. On the other hand, traveling in a group was safer, especially with trained swordsmen by her side. And, it would be nice to translate the scroll she found. Considering the lengths in which it had been hidden, whatever it said had to be important. “Agreed. We will travel with you to Kearar.”

  Wynn threw up her arms, muttering obscenities under her breath. She grabbed Tova and stormed out of the library.

  “Kearar is an inhospitable desert,” Ansel said, gulping. “How will we survive?”

  Steel chuckled, looking at Ansel as though he were a young child. “Those are old maid’s tales. The capital, the Mubali Oasis, is centered around a vast lake and is filled with rich food and culture. Far less dangerous than you believe, I’d say.”

  Mara slipped out of the room as the men hammered out the details. She yawned, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to her. Right now, all she wanted was to sleep for a week straight.

  She didn’t see the shadow until it was on top of her.

  A bony hand muffled her scream and slammed her back against the wall. “Let’s get something straight, love. I don’t like ya, and I don’t trust ya. Sure, the others might be eatin’ out of yer hand, but not me. Oh, I’ll be comin’ along tomorrow, but only to keep an eye on ya. Maybe I should kill ya now and save myself the trouble . . .”

  Mara felt a blade dig into her throat and she stilled, afraid to even take a breath. “I was only trying to help, I swear.”

  Wynn leaned in and her breath tickled Mara’s ear. “Maybe, maybe not.” The dagger disappeared from Mara’s neck. “I promise ya this. If even one of them gets hurt, I’ll kill ya. Slowly.” She smiled maniacally before vanishing into the dark corridor.

  11

  Mara had packed and repacked, arranging their supplies based on their usefulness. And then, she dumped it all out to start over again. The books and scrolls that Steel insisted on bringing weighed a ton and she wasn’t looking forward to carrying them at all.

  The early morning sun trickled in through the holes in the ceiling, lighting up the ruin’s entryway. In the daytime, it looked no more threatening than a barn or a shop, making her feel foolish for allowing her imagination to run wild the night before.
/>   “Overkill, don’t you think?”

  Mara glanced up at Ansel. He leaned against the wall with a wide, teasing smile on his face. She pursed her lips, frustrated that he was mocking her rather than offering to help. “Not at all. Three weeks from now, when you have dry socks and underthings, you’ll thank me.”

  He knelt down beside her and rooted through their supplies, completely ruining an hour of careful sorting. With an eyebrow raised, he held up a small embroidery kit. “Planning on practicing your needlework after pulling ticks from your—”

  She snatched it out of his hand and tossed it in the now disorganized supply pile. “Hey, you never know what we might encounter. Better to overpack now than realize we forgot something important, like your brain.”

  “Very funny, Mara. Speaking from experience?”

  Giving up on staying organized, Mara shoveled their clothes and food into the packs at random. If the others couldn’t be bothered to pack their own bags, she wasn’t going to waste her time any longer. “Hey, since your mother isn’t here to pack for you, I’ll have to make due.”

  When he didn’t reply to her incredibly witty comment, she glanced up, curious to see what was distracting him from their banter.

  Steel and Mikkal sparred in the front hall, unaware of the massive racket they caused. Several times, she had glanced over, envious. If only she could train as well. Her fingers itched to hold a sword, or even a dagger. Anything.

  Ansel watched with an almost worshipful rapture. “Look at him. He moves like a cat. Or a dancer. And barely a scratch on him! So, either he’s some pampered lordling who’s never seen a real battle, or he’s just so good that no one can touch him. And look at Mikkal! He’s so… I don’t know how to describe him, other than like a boulder. Or a rock slide. He’s incredible! I wouldn’t want to face either of them as enemies, that’s for sure.”

  “You’re drooling,” Mara said, hiding a grin behind her hand.