The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  Ethan noticed she was awake. He whispered, “How are you feeling?”

  She stretched, her back and hips flaring in agony, then leaned her head on his shoulder. “I feel like I was dropped off a cliff. Where are we?”

  “About ten miles north of the pass. Many of the disciples were injured and needed to rest to recover. Jensen was beside himself. He wanted nothing more than to leave the others behind and hurry back to Order Headquarters, but he was outnumbered.”

  “Jensen?”

  “The disciple that searched me. For some reason, I don’t get the impression he likes me too much.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” she quipped, earning a smile. Then she groaned. “I can’t believe we were captured. I thought for sure they would kill us when they had the chance.”

  “Cadmus must have a particularly delightful end for us,” Ethan mused. Mara shivered, the action having nothing to do with the cold. Ethan sat up and called out to the nearest disciple, “Hello? Ah, excuse me, sir. I need to . . . uh . . .”

  “You need to what, traitor?”

  Ethan offered a bashful smile. The disciple blinked back, clueless. “Perhaps there is a spare tree I could use?” he supplied helpfully.

  His comment was followed by raucous laughter. “Are your trousers too good for you?”

  “On the contrary. I’d be delighted to take care of business here, regardless of the company. My only worry is that the stench would offend your noses. It is a long journey to Order Headquarters.”

  The disciples murmured. “Just take him.”

  “What could it hurt?”

  They wrested him to his feet and dragged him across the campsite. He stumbled near the cookpot, and Mara’s heart leapt into her throat, terrified he’d fall into the flames. He regained his balance and they pulled him into the tree line.

  Her stomach rumbled, and she glanced back at the cookpot. She doubted they would spare rations on prisoners, and if they did, it would be the burned bits scraped off the bottom.

  It finally hit her that she was being taken back to Order Headquarters. She couldn’t figure out why Cadmus would want her alive. It’s not as though he could brainwash her into serving the Order—she’d likely plant a dagger through his ribs if she got the chance. No. She’d rather die. Her gaze found Tamil. They had to find a way out of here. She picked at the Deleos. They weren’t as nice as the ones she’d worn at Order Headquarters, but they were just as strong. If she still had her dagger, she might have been able to pick the cuffs, but they’d taken it along with the other weapons.

  She sagged back against the stump. How had things fallen apart so quickly?

  After a few minutes, Ethan returned looking a bit too smug for the circumstances. Something nagged the back of her mind. “Why didn’t they bother chaining us up?”

  “What’s the point? Without our Gifts we’re powerless, not to mention outnumbered.”

  He had a point.

  Soon, the disciples dished out a watery stew into metal bowls and passed them around. Ethan watched attentively as they ate. Mara glanced at him in sympathy. It had been three days since he left Merrowhaven. Had the emperor’s guards even fed him on the journey?

  “Think they’ll spare any of that for us?” Wynn asked, jerking her head toward the cookpot.

  Alex snorted. “You’d have a better chance of getting milk from an eagle.”

  “You wouldn’t want that anyway,” Ethan said, leaning back against a stump and crossing his legs. He twisted the metal cuffs around his wrists. “Nasty stuff.”

  Mara’s stomach clenched. “Pretty sure I’d eat anything right about now. I don’t care if tastes like the bottom of a latrine.”

  “Oh, it’s not the flavor you should be worried about.” Ethan chuckled under his breath.

  Then it hit.

  The first disciple crumbled, clutching her midsection. The next swung her fists against an invisible attacker before falling on her back. One by one, they succumbed to the madness.

  Mara turned to Ethan. “What did you do?”

  Ethan wore a very satisfied grin. “Remember when I confiscated the Yerrowroot extract from those boys in Merrowhaven? I happened to bring a vial of it with me.”

  “You poisoned them?”

  “Poisoned is extreme. With one small vial I provided the experience of their lifetime, enabling them to battle two-headed sea monsters and sing ballads with rainbow trolls for the next few days. If anything, they should be thanking me. Do you know how much a bottle of that costs in the underground markets?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” Mara smirked, remembering her experiences in the underground market. He must have slipped it into the stew when he tripped. “Why did I ever doubt you?”

  “That is the question of the century.”

  Wynn stopped trying to remove the Deleos with her teeth. “Can I get a hand here once ye’re done yappin’?

  “Certainly! Mara, if you would be so kind as to locate my supplies . . .”

  She stood, legs wobbling, and hurried over to where they’d tied the horses and dug through the packs. Then she spotted the bag where the disciples had stashed the ingredients Ethan had smuggled out of Merrowhaven. Hurrying, she untied it from the saddle and carried it back to the group, stepping over the prone form of a disciple in the process. How long would the disciples be incapacitated?

  “I have something that can take the Deleos off.” He rummaged around the bag and pulled out a vial. He smirked and pulled the cork before holding it over his wrist. “I spent the last week in Merrowhaven creating this beauty. It should eat through the metal. Provided it doesn’t explode first, I’ll have these cuffs off in a few minutes.”

  Should?

  Eat?

  Explode!

  “Stop!” Mara lurched forward and knocked the vial from his hand. It tumbled end over end before falling to the ground where it detonated. The explosion knocked them backward. Dirt and rock flew into the air. Alex covered Tamil with his body, shielding him from the debris. When the smoke cleared, there was a crater a foot deep in the ground.

  Ethan sat up, looking shocked. He pressed a hand to his temple and blinked at the destruction as if he couldn’t fathom what had gone wrong. “What . . .”

  “Just be grateful it wasn’t your wrist! What were you thinking?” She said, blown away by his uncharacteristic stupidity. Then it dawned on her. “Your Gift is suppressed. You couldn’t See what was going to happen, could you?”

  “No. I kept waiting for that flare of intuition that warns me when something will go wrong, but it was gone.” He looked at the Deleos on his wrists and shuddered. “Is this what you feel like all the time?”

  “Not being able to predict the future with a brush of my fingertips? Yeah. That’s about it,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You grew up at Order Headquarters. You can’t tell me this is the first time you’ve worn Deleos.”

  He shrugged. “It’s never been this inconvenient before.”

  She glared at him a long moment before standing to her feet. The camp had gone eerily quiet with the exception of a few moans and the occasional scream of a disciple battling an invisible foe. Most of the disciples had fallen unconscious, but some were still hallucinating. She pursed her lips. “How long will the Yerrowroot last?”

  “Twenty-four hours for the initial effects to wear off, then another couple days before they’re well enough to march. Why?”

  Without answering, she stepped over the writhing bodies and rooted through their pockets.

  Alex tracked her. “What are you doing?”

  “One of the disciples has to have the keys, and using a key is infinitely better than experimenting with potions.”

  “I wouldn’t call it experimenting, per se,” Ethan stressed.

  Wynn arched an eyebrow at him. “So, ya knew that would happen then? Seems a little reckless.”

  “A little reckless?” Alex repeated, his tone coated in disbelief.

  “Fine! I’m experimenting.” Ex
acerbated, he threw up his hands. “It’s the best I can do for now, but unfortunately, without access to Aravell’s superior resources, I’m forced into a lengthy process of trial and error.” Ethan closed up the bag of ingredients and frowned. “The science isn’t exactly clear here, and as far as I know, no one has attempted this particular concoction before.”

  Mara continued picking through pockets before holding up a set of keys, triumphant. “Found them!”

  Hands shaking, she fit the key inside her cuffs and twisted. The metal clicked, and the Deleos fell to the ground. Mara braced herself for the inevitable flood of power now that her Gift was unhindered, but she was disappointed. Cool energy trickled back into her core in a slow trickle rather than a deluge. Her stomach sank. Lifting a hand, she tried to form a ball of energy in her palm. She managed to create a few sparks before they sputtered out.

  Trying not to panic, she reached out toward the nearest disciple. The Impriga had simply taken too much of her energy. That was all. She could refill it. She latched onto his energy thread and began to siphon, but it evaporated before she could draw it inside her. A lump formed in her throat. What was wrong with her?

  “Mara? Is everything okay?” Ethan asked.

  She blinked. They were staring at her with concern written on their faces. “Fine, just fine.”

  Hurrying over to Tamil, she knelt beside him, letting her hair form a curtain between them. Her mind raced. Why wasn’t her Gift working? Had the Impriga damaged it when they’d fought? She didn’t know if that was even possible.

  She reached out and unlocked the Deleos on Tamil’s wrists.

  He smiled, letting a black slime-like substance pool in his palms. Mara reared back. Something told her she didn’t want to let that touch her skin. Ethan’s mouth dropped open and he whirled on the young Venelo. “You ingested the bloodwart, too!”

  Tamil hid his hands behind his back, the picture of wide-eyed innocence. “To be fair, you didn’t forbid me from eating it. You just said it was a terrible idea and the odds of me dying were fifty-fifty.”

  “Seventy-thirty that you would spontaneously combust before your body could synthesize the poison,” Ethan stressed. He slapped a palm over his face. “You’ll be the death of me.”

  Mara knelt by Alex and reached for his wrists. At the last second, he pulled back before she could insert the key in the lock. He was staring off into the fire, eyes unfocused.

  “Alex?”

  “Is it bad that I’m not sure if I want you to take them off?” He stared at the Deleos, shaking his head slightly as he took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, eyebrows pulled together. “These past few hours have been the most peace I’ve felt in years. Is that messed up? I’m a prisoner, and the only thing I could think about was how nice it is that I don’t have to worry about taking someone’s Gift.

  Mara had known that he despised his Gift, but in that moment, Mara realized that she’d grossly underestimated the depths of his self-hatred. She squeezed his hand and leaned forward until their knees touched. “I know Cadmus made you do terrible things for the Order, but that’s not you. You can’t internalize it. You aren’t the sum of your Gift. You’re kind and gentle and one of the all-around sweetest people I know.”

  “Do you remember Fran?” he asked. Mara pictured the terrifying Guardian with mismatched eyes she’d met at Order Headquarters. During her misguided attempt to rescue Tova, Mara had killed Fran’s twin brother. “She was my mentor. She used to tell me stories of what it was like before the Order began collecting Guardians.”

  Mara perked up. When she thought of Guardians, she’d always pictured the formidable Gifted who served Cadmus, taking Gifts and killing at his will. She hadn’t realized they might have had a history outside the Order.

  “Guardians used to be protectors. Not all Gifted are peaceful. Who would keep an Ignis from burning down a village? Or an Armis from slaughtering a town of Cultors? The Guardians would roam the continent, holding Gifted accountable for their crimes. We would take the Gifts of only those who deserved it, not those whose only crime was opposing the Order.” He swallowed, staring at the ground. His dreadlocks fell into his face and he reached up to brush them back. “I wish things were different.”

  “Once Cadmus is defeated, we can have that reality again.”

  Alex shook his head. “When I close my eyes, all I can see are the faces of the people whose lives I’ve ruined.”

  Mara opened her mouth, but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t think it would bring him comfort to know that she still had nightmares of the people she’d killed at Order Headquarters.

  “I was the one who took Opal’s Gift.”

  She rocked back on her heels.

  “We’d marched for two days straight without stopping. Arthur wouldn’t give us more than fifteen minutes to rest at a time. He insisted that she would See us coming and run. He thought that by attacking at night, we might have the element of surprise—we’d be able to overwhelm them in their beds and kill them where they slept. He was wrong. By the time we got there, the tent was empty, and she was waiting for us outside. The snow was swirling around her, and she looked so peaceful. She was waiting for us. I—I had no choice. But I can’t shake the feeling that she was relieved. She sacrificed herself so the people of Tregydar could live on.”

  His wild eyes found hers, searching for . . . what? Absolution? Forgiveness? Mara wasn’t glad that he’d taken the Seer’s Gift per se, but it could have been considered justice. Opal had known that they were walking into a trap—she’d known Ansel would die—and she sent them blindly into Order Headquarters anyway. Mara would never forgive her.

  “Look, it’s up to you. I won’t force you to take them off if you would prefer to keep them on, but you need to make a choice here. Your Gift doesn’t define you. What you do with it does.”

  He seemed to consider her words, then held out his wrists. Mara let out a breath and unlocked them before he could change his mind. He might be dealing with a lot of internal stuff right now, but he couldn’t afford to have a crisis. Not until they were safe.

  “Little help here, love?” Wynn bit down on the Deleos, and Mara hurried to unlock them before she broke a tooth. The second she was free, she vanished and appeared on the other side of the camp next to the disciple that had taken her dirks. She plucked them from his hand before aiming a kick at his ribs.

  Mara winced and turned to Ethan. “Okay, let’s get your Gift back before you kill us all with science.”

  Wynn reappeared by his side and tapped the flat of her dirk against her lips. “There are easier ways to kill us, ya know. This sciencey stuff seems too complicated.”

  “I’m not trying to kill anybody!”

  “I don’t know, Wynn. It might be complicated, but it’s effective. Imagine an explosion like that but twenty times larger against enemy forces,” Alex said.

  Wynn snorted. “Useless it kills ya along with the disciples.”

  “I think it just needs some more testing,” Ethan said defensively.

  “You think?” Mara said, pointing to the crater that still smoldered. She grabbed his wrist and jammed the key in the lock. Two twists and he was free.

  “Well, don’t ask me to test it for ya.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he shot back. Ethan sighed and closed his eyes as his Gift returned. “Much better.”

  “So what now?” Alex asked, rubbing his wrists.

  Mara looked at Tamil and smiled. “We go to Orgate.”

  Wynn scoffed. “What are we gonna do, march up to the gate?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Ye’ve lost yer mind. They’ll kill us on sight.”

  Mara looked around at the disciples and grinned. “I have a plan.”

  19

  The group rode through the night, not daring to stop until they put more miles between them and the disciples. Ethan had sworn that they would be incapacitated for a few days, but no one wanted to risk it, least of all Mara. She re
membered what it had been like to be a prisoner of the Order, and she wouldn’t wish it on her own worst enemy.

  Her relief at escaping gave way to anxiety. It had been almost too easy to get away, but Ethan didn’t say anything, so Mara held her tongue. She was probably just worrying over nothing. She rubbed her eyes. Tamil snored softly from where he was slumped in the saddle before her. Just a few more days until they reached Orgate. Then they could rest.

  Unless they were killed by blood-thirsty Lingatians or vengeful Kerani first.

  Mara patted her thigh where her dagger was concealed. In their rush to flee the disciples, they’d taken only the bare necessities: Mara’s dagger, Alex’s twin swords, Wynn’s dirks and duel-bladed knife, a bag of food, five skeins of water, and Ethan’s satchel of ingredients and elixirs. It didn’t seem like enough.

  They didn’t know what they would face when they reached Orgate.

  Ethan reined his horse around to face them and fished around his bag before pulling out a handful of vials. Taking the horses had been a good decision. Most of the disciples had been on foot, but they had six horses in addition to the two Wynn, Tamil, and Mara had ridden from Merrowhaven. Ethan and Alex selected one each, then released the rest. Anything to slow the disciples down.

  He held one of the vials out to Wynn who took it with a groan. “Already?”

  Mara glanced up at the sky, calculating the position of the sun. By her best guess, it had been two hours since their last dose. During the last few days in Merrowhaven, Ethan had improved the elixir that made them all-but invisible to Cadmus, increasing the duration of the effects so it lasted a few hours. If they budgeted it, they should have enough to last until they reached Orgate.

  “Problem?” Alex asked, his gaze bouncing between them.

  “Why do we have to drink this so much?” She held up her vial and shook it in his face.

  “I don’t know why you’re complaining. Leaving Merrowhaven didn’t magically stop Cadmus from Reading our movements. At least this will give us a chance,” Mara snapped, though she groaned along with Wynn on the inside. The elixir Ethan made to mask their movements from Cadmus tasted like tea made from sweaty socks. Not that she would say anything to him.