The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  “Ethan . . . what happened to Opal? Her cell was empty.” Mara held her breath. Did it matter to her? Opal had known that Ansel would die if he came to Order Headquarters, and she didn’t even warn him.

  “I’m sorry, Mara. Cadmus had her executed two days ago.”

  Mara blinked. Then she buried her face in her pillow.

  She wished she could hate Opal. She wished she could be happy that Cadmus had ended her. But all she felt was a hollow emptiness inside. If it weren’t for Opal, she would never have learned the truth about the Order and how the Magi were deceiving people about dregs and Gifted. She would have never learned how to control her Gift.

  Ethan waited patiently as she cried, giving her the illusion of privacy. She wiped her eyes and took a deep, rattling breath. “When I was down in that room, Ella said something to me before Cadmus walked in. I don’t even know if she meant to say it . . . She said that I wasn’t the first person who has tried to escape. Ethan, are there really more people like us? More who are here against their will?”

  Ethan turned and looked her in the eye, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in his dark eyes. “Yes.”

  Mara pursed her lips. If there were others, would they help her? If someone challenged Cadmus, would they band together and fight, or had he beaten them into submission? Ella didn’t strike her as someone who would give up without a fight.

  Tamil returned, carrying an armload of bandages and the salve. He dumped them on the bed next to Ethan and hurried over, taking her hand in his. Ethan spent the next hour washing her back and dressing her wounds while Tamil stroked her hair and sang songs in Kerani to cheer her up.

  As she basked in their affection, a peculiar feeling washed over her—one she hadn’t felt in a long time. Cadmus might think that weeks of isolation and a beating would leave her shattered and vulnerable. Instead, she had found new friends. And together, they would be unbreakable.

  11

  “I’m not going!”

  Mara braced herself inside her bathroom door and leaned her weight against it as no fewer than five disciples tried to talk her out. Less than a day had passed since her whipping, and apparently Cadmus thought it was perfectly acceptable to order her to dinner like a trained puppy.

  “Disciple Mara, the Head Magi himself has summoned you. You must—”

  “You can inform his supreme worshipfulness that if he wants me to go to dinner, he can send a Healer up first,” she said, infusing her voice with as much confidence as she could muster. Which wasn’t much at all. While the disciples appeared to have the combined brain power of a potato, it wouldn’t take long before they realized her bathroom door didn’t have a lock.

  After an uncomfortable pause, she could hear frantic murmurs and the shifting of multiple bodies. “Um . . . I don’t believe that would work out in anyone’s favor.”

  “Not my problem.”

  If Cadmus had thought that her punishment would be enough to cow her into meek obedience, he was bound to be disappointed. She’d never felt more empowered in her life. After Oona had dragged her back to Order Headquarters, Cadmus had finally slipped up and revealed that he wouldn’t fulfill his threat to destroy her hometown. He wouldn’t risk destroying Stonehollow while it was the last leverage he had against her. Hurting her was the worst he could do.

  “Let me through!”

  Mara perked up at the sound of Ethan’s voice. Finally! Someone would talk some sense into these disciples.

  “Would you like to explain what’s going on here?”

  “Ethan, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad you’re here.”

  Humor colored his voice as he asked, “Will you please come out now?”

  “Only once these brainless goons leave.” Mara smiled, imagining the look on his face that accompanied his drawn-out sigh. A moment later, she heard shuffling and the faint click of the door. She yanked open the bathroom door and beamed at him. “I never thought they’d . . . why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Why were you locked in the bathroom?”

  “Apparently Cadmus has requested my presence at dinner. I wasn’t inclined to go.”

  “And so you felt that barricading yourself in your bathroom would be an effective solution?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

  She shuffled her feet. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”

  The smile faded from his face, and his expression grew serious. “You know you have to go.”

  “I changed my mind. I’m not happy to see you at all.” She started to slam the door shut.

  Ethan shoved an arm in the gap before it closed, pulling it back open. “Your absence will be noted. Would you really like to test his patience like this? Now?”

  “Why should I give into his demands?” Mara crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head back so she could meet his eyes. Woah, how had he gotten so close? She took a step back and said, “If Cadmus wants me, he needs to Heal me first.”

  Ethan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You really need to pick your battles here.”

  “He wants to parade me in front of the Order like some sort of tamed beast.” She threw her hands in the air. Didn’t he understand why she was upset? He might be able to slip back into the role of Magi like he was putting on a different tunic, but she couldn’t sit across the table from Cadmus without wanting to ram a fork down his throat.

  “Exactly. And you will make him, and everyone else, think that’s what you are. Don’t give him any reason to believe you’re anything but obedient.”

  “But what about my back?” Mara asked, unable to stop the whine the bled into her voice.

  Ethan looked her over, his eyebrows knitting with concern. “Are you in pain?”

  Mara shook her head. “The elixir you gave me works perfectly.”

  “So if you’re not feeling any discomfort . . .” He tilted his head and pursed his lips, watching her like she was a mystery he wanted to solve. Something on her face must have given her away, because he barked out a laugh and said, “You’re embarrassed!”

  “No!” Mara said, too quickly. How had he picked up on that so fast? Her face flushed, and she shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I mean, I already have scars. What’s a few more?”

  “Hmm . . .” His eyes crinkled at the corners and the side of his mouth quirked up. “So, the scars don’t bother you at all?”

  “Nope,” she said, allowing the word to pop at the end.

  “Good, because you haven’t seen the outfit Cadmus has sent up.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the bathroom.

  “What? I thought I would just wear the robes.” She followed his laughter into the bedroom, then froze. He stood by the bed, holding up a floor-length black gown with burgundy stitching. It looked like someone had taken shears to the back, which was cut scandalously low. Suddenly, she realized why Cadmus had chosen this gown. It wasn’t enough to flaunt her punishment in front of the Order. No, he wanted to revel in her shame by displaying her wounds like a twisted artist. “On second thought, I’m going to lock myself in the bathroom again . . .”

  “Mara, wait.” Ethan caught her hand as she turned to leave.

  She stopped, keeping her body angled away. Would he notice her sweaty palms? She resisted the urge to pull her hand away and wipe them of her robes.

  “If you don’t go, people will think that he’s finally beaten you. That you’re afraid. By going, yes, you’ll satisfy his desire for a compliant disciple, but it’s more than that. You’ll show the other disciples that you’re strong—too strong to be broken.” He sighed and released her hand. “If you truly don’t want to go, I’ll stay here with you. Maybe we can move your bed in front of the door so no one can get in.”

  She laughed at the idea, but the mirth passed as quickly as it came. She turned around and opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t form. Was he really willing to defy the Head Magi for her? The open sincerity on his face made her believe that he would. “Wouldn’t you be punishe
d?”

  “Most definitely,” he said without a trace of hesitation.

  “You’d be willing to do that for me?” She swallowed thickly, thinking of the scars that decorated his back.

  “In a heartbeat.”

  With those three words, he cemented her decision. She couldn’t allow him to be hurt because she didn’t want to face Cadmus. She sighed. “If I go, will you be there?”

  “Of course.”

  “And can I bring Tamil as well?” Mara asked, chewing on her lip.

  “Certainly. Many disciples bring their novices with them.”

  “I’m not a disciple,” she replied automatically. To him, it might be semantics, but to her, it was important to remind herself that she wasn’t here willingly. Still, what could it hurt to play along a bit longer? She let her shoulders sag. “Okay.”

  “Okay? You’ll go?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “Yes. Now leave so I can have some privacy to put on this gods-awful dress.”

  ***

  An hour later, Tamil escorted her down to the dining hall. After the trouble she’d put the disciples through, Mara was surprised that they allowed her to be unguarded. Did they think she was so weak that she couldn’t cause trouble? She’d feel insulted if it weren’t for the burning pain that radiated through her back with each step she took. She should have taken another dose of Ethan’s elixir.

  Silence greeted her when they walked in. When dozens of heads turned to stare at her, she nearly walked back out. Why were so many people here? Nearly every seat at the table was filled, and additional disciples stood around the perimeter of the room. Cadmus sat at the head of the table, openly watching her reaction for a sign of discomfort. Arthur sat on his right, while Fran sat on his left. Wishing she had just stayed in the stupid bathroom, Mara threw her shoulders back and marched toward the empty seat next to Ethan.

  As she passed by Oona, who stood by the wall, Mara heard a gasp and glanced over her shoulder. Oona gaped openly at the marks on her back. If Mara didn’t know any better, she’d think that Oona was shocked by the sight. She waited for the gloating smile and biting remark about how she’d gotten what she deserved, but it never came.

  Tamil pulled her chair out, and Mara sank into it slowly, careful to avoid scraping her back against the wood. The last thing she needed was to reopen the wounds. She could only hope that what Ethan said was true—Cadmus would allow a Healer to completely heal her back tomorrow. She just had to get through tonight.

  Ella gave her an encouraging nod from across the table. Mara risked a smile and sat up straighter. Tilting his head and raising his eyebrows slightly, Ethan gave her a look as if to ask if she was all right. She nodded once, then turned her attention to the head of the table.

  Cadmus clapped his hands once, and a row of disciples came pouring in carrying trays filled with goblets. They made their way around the room, handing one to each person before retreating back through the doorway.

  Cadmus rose from his seat and lifted his hands until the room was silent. “Within the Order, our values and commitment define us. Everyone, from a novice to a Magi, plays a critical role in our success. You are the plaster that hold our glorious organization together.”

  Ella barked out a laugh but covered it with a cough. Cadmus’s gaze rounded on her. “Which is why we consider desertion to be the worst form of betrayal, for you are betraying not only your vows, but also your brothers and sisters within the Order. For this reason, discipline is necessary.”

  “Today, we celebrate the return of one of our own into the fold.” Cadmus lifted his goblet and took a sip. The rest followed suit.

  Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Mara took a polite sip. The bitter flavor burst on her tongue, and she quickly set the goblet back down, not wanting a repeat performance of what had happened in Tregydar.

  Cadmus sat back down and steepled his fingers on the table, peering over the top at Arthur, as if he were waiting for something to happen? Was the Head Disciple supposed to make a speech, too?

  With a pained cry, Arthur keeled over, clutching his throat. The disciple sitting next to him leaned away, covering her mouth with her hands. Horrified murmurs filled the room. Had he been poisoned? Why would the Head Magi kill one of the Order’s staunchest supporters?

  Cadmus watched impassively as Arthur struggled for breath.

  “You failed me, Arthur. I gave you one task, and you failed. Your gross negligence allowed the Impriga to escape. I do not tolerate failure in the Order.” He stood and walked behind Arthur, resting his hands on his shoulders. Mara shivered as his dark eyes bored into hers before he turned to examine everyone in the room, allowing his message to sink in. “Let this to be a lesson for all who might question my authority.”

  Ella ducked her head, keeping her eyes firmly on her plate. A few others shifted uneasily while most kept their faces neutral.

  “However, let it also be said that I am merciful. Novice Tamil,” Cadmus called. “If you would.”

  Tamil hurried around the table and Mara felt a flash of panic for the young boy. He looked like a mouse scurrying toward a hungry snake. Without hesitation, he placed his hands on the Head Disciple’s neck and closed his eyes. Arthur slumped over the table. Was Tamil trying to save him, or speed up the process?

  Mara’s nails bit into the table, prying up slivers of wood. “What’s he doing?”

  “He has to absorb some of the poison in order to identify it and create the antidote,” Ethan whispered.

  “But it’s hurting him!” Mara watched in horror as the boy groaned. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow, and he swayed on the spot. Could he die from the poison?

  “Just watch.”

  Even as Tamil began to convulse, he kept his hands plastered to the Head Disciple’s neck. Mara was seconds away from leaping across the table and putting a stop to this. She’d had enough of Cadmus’s power plays, and she wouldn’t let him take Tamil from her, too. Then, she heard Arthur’s breathing even out and his color returned to normal. Tamil, however, was not okay. His skin took on a chalky pallor, and he collapsed to the floor, chest heaving.

  Mara burst from her chair. “Tamil!”

  Cadmus smiled and held up a hand, freezing her in place. “He will be fine.”

  After a few moments, the boy stopped shaking. He sat up slowly, pressing a hand to his forehead.

  “I have given you a new poison to add to your inventory, Novice Tamil. You should show gratitude when someone gives you a gift.”

  Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He bowed low. “Thank you, Head Magi.”

  Then he turned and ran from the room without waiting to be dismissed.

  Mara shoved her chair away, ready to follow after him. Ethan placed a hand on her arm and shook his head. She’d known that Tamil was a Venelo, but knowing and seeing were two very different things. Considering he could kill her with a single touch, she should be afraid of him. But she wasn’t. Tamil was like a little brother to her now, and he would never hurt her. Watching his small body twist in agony and not being allowed to help him was the worst feeling in the world. Was he still in pain?

  Another group of disciples entered carrying baskets and trays of food. Soon, the soft sounds of eating and quiet conversation filled the space. Mara’s stomach turned as she stared at the table. After witnessing Arthur being poisoned and Tamil saving him, she’d lost her appetite. Ethan turned his head to look at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling in worry. Mara pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. Then she snagged a seeded roll from a basket and nibbled on the edge. There, now he couldn’t fuss.

  The door burst open, causing Mara to jump. A disciple rushed in, clutching a scroll. He hurried around to where Cadmus sat at the front of the table and handed the message to him. Cadmus waved him off, then opened the scroll and scanned the contents. His knuckles whitened as he crumpled the edges of the paper.

  “Everyone out!”

  12

  The room erupted into chao
s as disciples scrambled over each other in their haste to leave.

  Cadmus glared at the scroll as if he was trying to set it on fire with his mind, and Mara didn’t want to be around when he finally exploded. The disciples had the right idea. Heart racing, she stood slowly from her chair. Ethan moved to follow. Keeping her head down, she edged around the table.

  She slipped behind a group of disciples as they lifted Arthur to his feet. Ethan, probably trying to be reassuring, rested a hand on the small of her back, but nothing could mask the tension in his face. She threw a nervous glance over her shoulder. Cadmus’s unblinking eyes were still glued to the parchment. What was in that scroll? In the end, self-preservation overruled her curiosity.

  Releasing a breath, Mara pressed as close to the door as she could, but Arthur was blocking the way. Poison was most inconvenient when it interfered with her escape. If she could get to her room, she vowed to never leave her bathroom again.

  Just when she thought she’d managed to get away without being noticed, Cadmus’s voice called out, “Not you two.”

  Mara’s feet rooted in place as an icy chill coursed through her veins. Please let him be talking to someone else. Anyone else. Why would he need her?

  Ethan’s groan confirmed the worst. He turned. “Yes, sir?”

  The vein in Cadmus’s neck bulged as he clenched his jaw. Mara thought she’d finally seen him upset the morning after Ethan had freed the dregs, but she was wrong. That was nothing compared to the ball of pure rage sitting across the room. He looked like he was seconds away from ripping them apart. What was in the scroll that would make him come unhinged like this? She stepped behind Ethan, trying to make herself seem smaller.

  As soon as the room was cleared, Cadmus bolted from his seat and stormed around the table. He grabbed Ethan by the front of his robes and slammed him against the wall, knocking down a tapestry. He pressed on his throat with his forearm. “I have given you more than enough chances to redeem yourself, and yet you continually disappoint me.”