The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “Don’t you think it’s odd that none of these instructions contain any warnings? Things you shouldn’t do?”

  “That sounds like something Mom would say.”

  “Really, have you even considered the effect something like this could have on other people around you? I want you to be able to control this, Izzy, but you have to make sure it’s safe.”

  I snatched the papers from him. I placed them, along with the diary, into my handbag. “Thanks for the lecture. I’ll see you later.”

  “So we’re not having lunch?”

  “Go have lunch with Frankie and Dillon. I’m not hungry.”

  Before he could say another word, I was out the door and made a point to slam it shut. Who did he think he was, telling me how to approach this? Didn’t he think I already played these things out in my mind a million times? He wasn’t even a wizard, so how could he possibly understand? No...let me not begin to think like that. It didn’t matter whether or not he was a wizard. He knew this was dangerous--and that with a serious misstep, it could very well be my undoing.

  I felt guilty about storming out of Johnnie’s classroom. I knew that he had only wanted to help and was just worried about me. Just because we translated those texts and learned a few things didn’t mean that we knew everything, including consequences and pitfalls. I hadn’t even voluntarily cast a single spell related to these powers, and the only reason why I was acquainted with Zaman’s Fire was because it activated on its own.

  When I arrived back at the house, I went straight upstairs and opened the diary, along with the Turkish papers, and Dr. Grey’s translations. I sat on my bed and re-read the part that talked about Zaman being a wise leader, and someone good. It gave me hope, and reminded me that I could still prove the Tower wrong and show them that at least this Drifter would not summon demons or rain down destruction on people. But first, I needed to understand these powers and control them.

  The translated instruction for slowing down time said to listen to my heart. I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing. I reached deep inside and thought of time as something fluid, moving slowly, yet purposefully. I fed magical energy into my thoughts, and still allowed myself to remain in a meditative state. After a few minutes, I opened one eye to see if anything had changed--the clock on the wall opposite of me tick-tocked at its usual pace, and a trip to the window overlooking the backyard revealed the disappointing view of everyone else at the table enjoying lunch as normal.

  I tried the meditation once more, and when nothing out of the ordinary occurred, I grew frustrated and decided to head downstairs. I went straight to Neal, who was, once again, having lunch with my mother and Rachel. Delana sat at the table as well, a little more quiet than usual. I wondered if Neal said anything to intimidate her. He barely tolerated her presence and probably would not stand for her to talk.

  “Good afternoon, everyone.” I took the empty seat next to Neal and absentmindedly squeezed his hand. Despite some of his contrary beliefs, he turned out to be a staunch ally. Perhaps if he spent a little more time around me, then maybe he would start to think differently about the Drifter.

  “I thought Johnnie was coming back with you,” my mother said.

  “He’s having lunch with the guys down at the university. How are you, Rachel?” She had dark circles beneath her eyes, and she wasn’t her usual bubbly self. She seemed to barely touch her broccoli soup, and her water glass was half full.

  “I haven’t been sleeping well recently,” she said, attempting to smile.

  “Why don’t you go lie down, Rachel. I’ll clean up.” My mother fixed a plate of food for me and filled my glass.

  Delana took a few bread rolls and tossed them into her shopping tote. “Excuse me, I am done now.” She left for her room.

  “How long will you allow that woman to stay here?” Neal asked when she was out of earshot.

  “She’s odd,” my mother commented as she cleared the table of empty plates and bowls. “I’ll give you that.”

  I began playing with my food, wondering the same thing myself. Still, I told her that I would try to help. If all else failed, I’d just have to convince Delana to get an exorcism. “I’ll...talk with her.”

  When my mother hauled the dishes away, Neal asked, “Was there any sign of Ryker while you were out?”

  I shook my head. “How about you?”

  “He hasn’t returned.”

  I reached into my handbag and took out the loose papers, but not the diary. “This is why I went with Johnnie today. We wanted to get these interpreted.”

  He examined the papers. “The stolen texts. How long have you had them?”

  “Since I saw Cambria. He gave them to me.”

  “I see.” He gave me a look as if silently scolding me for withholding information--again.

  “Why do you think Veit stole them?” I wanted to see what theories he would come up with, but hopefully not the correct one.

  He gazed into my eyes. “It’s obvious Veit took these for your father in order for him to learn about the powers of Zaman, the Drifter. Your father must’ve intended to reclaim the papers through you, or if he perished, they would remain out of the Tower’s hands.”

  My mother came out with a worried expression and approached. “Isabella, Rachel is asking for you to take her to the doctor. She won’t say what’s wrong.”

  Neal glanced at me and saw the concern on my face. “I’ll drive.”

  “How strong is your Circle of Protection?” I asked.

  “I’ve just fortified it. The old woman has strength. She can stay with your mother.”

  “All right.”

  I grabbed my handbag and we got up and went into the house. Rachel was in the living room reclining on the sofa. Delana sat next to her and touched her forehead.

  “Rachel, you want to go to the doctor?” I asked, grabbing her hand and leading her from the couch. I used our physical contact to search for any signs of illness or injury. There were none.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Delana--”

  “Yes, I know. I’ll stay.”

  I handed Neal the keys and we went out the front door. I helped Rachel ease into the car and got into the back seat with her.

  “Where to?” Neal asked.

  “Dr. Caine’s,” Rachel said, breathing deeply. “He owns the farm property just northwest of here.”

  As Neal pulled out and drove us down the street, I held Rachel’s hand and looked into her eyes. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m all right. It’s not what you think.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s not Delana. I did speak with her, though.”

  I let out a breath of frustration. What if Rachel’s session with Delana had sparked the interest of Ammon? Could he have made her ill and I just couldn’t detect it? We swayed as Neal made a left turn onto a long stretch of road. We passed a few equestrian properties, and Rachel pointed at the one toward the end.

  “Well, what is it then?” I asked.

  “You know that day I was sitting at the kitchen table speaking with her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, she said that I was going to have a baby...and I think it’s true.”

  “You’re pregnant?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Neal pull out a pistol. “Brace yourselves, there’s a warlock standing in the middle of the road.”

  He rolled down the window just enough so that he could aim the pistol and start firing. I looked up just in time to see Ryker, with his golden hair cropped short and high-neck black sweater, pulling out two Cossack daggers and deflecting the bullets. My heart pounded in my chest as Neal accelerated the car and drove straight toward the man.

  Rachel let out a terrified scream right before impact. We jerked forward as the car crashed--whether it was against Ryker, I didn’t know--and suddenly the entire world spun around, and I went bouncing around in the back seat and hit the roof of the car. When all became still, I felt my face pressed agains
t the rear window. The car was upside down, and when I realized that I was the only one in it, I panicked.

  “Rachel!” I tried to ignore my body aching and my head throbbing. I pulled my alchemist’s knife from my handbag and grabbed the extra rings and put them on. I scraped my arms and legs as I crawled through the broken front window.

  About a hundred yards away, I saw Neal fighting with Ryker. The warlock’s face was bloodied and he had a look of rage in his eyes, probably because Neal had managed to co-opt one of his Cossack daggers. Ryker parried a few of Neal’s thrusts, but got sliced on his left arm. He quickly constructed a protective magical shield and then backed away so he could pull out a revolver and shoot at Neal. It seemed Ryker wanted to use his enchanted weapons before resorting to pure magic.

  Neal had been anticipating Ryker’s move and deflected the bullet. He struck the warlock’s shield with the dagger and it shattered, sending an eerie blue flame leaping into the air. When I felt pain in my right shoulder and my head continued throbbing, my thoughts went back to Rachel. I scanned the area, and, at first, saw only the lonely stretch of road and a few horses grazing in the pastures behind white fenceposts. My heart almost stopped when I finally spotted Rachel, just to the west side of the road, lying unconscious beneath a tall tree.

  I forced myself to my feet and stumbled in the opposite direction of Neal and Ryker’s fight. I rushed toward Rachel, my chest tightening and my breaths stifling with each step. I was afraid to go to her, but I was more afraid not to. My senses went off, and I nearly choked on an evil presence that clouded around me like pitch-black smoke from a fire. It made me sick.

  I fell to my knees beside Rachel and placed my hands on her head. As I sent a wave of healing energy throughout her body, mending the bruise on her face and the broken bones in her left hand, I felt a small tremor. She slipped in and out of consciousness, but I continued working on her, calling her name and talking to her, and afraid of what I would have to face with Johnnie and my own conscience if she never woke up.

  Though it was dangerous, I had no choice but to pull back my energy and pray it was enough for her, because I would now need my magical strength for defense. I gripped my knife and quickly enclosed us in a loose circle of alchemical symbols: Earth, Air, Fire, and the symbol of decay--Putrefaction. Ryker had indeed been testing us last night, toying with us, even. Three Black Wolves, his reinforcements, had just landed in front of me, and they were ready for blood.

  31

  Out of the corner of my eye I could see Neal making his way toward us, but he had to pause every few seconds to fend off Ryker or deflect one of his attacks. The Black Wolves that landed in front of me could sense the spells I laid and stood outside the symbols encircling Rachel and me. They all wore their uniform black garbs and silver hoods, but each one had its unique deformity. I cringed at the tallest one, which had a greenish tint to its skin, and claws for hands and feet. The second looked like it had sockets, but no eyes, and the third reminded me of a very hairy satyr. This was what became of wizards who consorted with demons and made pacts with them. They eventually devolved into these abominations.

  The eyeless Wolf crouched to the ground and slithered like a snake toward Rachel. I released both Fire and Air at the same time so that a whirlwind of fire swirled and hit all three Black Wolves. The one with claws and the satyr backed off, but then reached out with their power and began breaking down my symbols so they could reach us unobstructed. The eyeless one shrieked in rage and said something in its infernal language.

  “The next time Octavian wants to send his dogs after me, at least let him send the ones that can talk.” I cast a Circle of Protection that spread and stopped just before the symbols that encircled Rachel and me. I glanced at her and saw her eyes flutter open.

  “Isabella?” She took one look at the Black Wolves, with their maligned forms, and fainted.

  My alchemical symbols shattered from the counterspells of the satyr and clawed Wolves, and they began snarling like a pack of hungry dogs. They latched onto my Circle of Protection and began drinking its energy like water--it wouldn’t hold up another minute. A croak escaped my throat, and, with tears stinging my eyes, I pressed the tip of my knife’s blade into the palm of my right hand. I stood and ran outside of the weakened Circle of Protection, hoping that the scent of my blood would draw them toward me and away from Rachel. With shaking limbs, I picked up my pace and bolted toward the large tree to the right.

  I looked back and saw the eyeless one tilting its chin upward and its nostrils flaring. It bared its teeth and flew toward me, and I took cover behind the wide tree trunk. I held my knife and readied to thrust it into the monster’s face as soon as it showed, but suddenly the ground beneath me shifted, and the tree came plummeting onto me. I made a swift roll to avoid getting crushed, but the trunk caught my leg, and I fell onto my stomach. I pulled my leg free and shifted myself onto my back, but an invisible force hit me and pinned me against the ground.

  I peered eastward and saw Neal battling with Ryker. Their feet moved quickly as they both tried to keep their balance while parrying each other’s thrusts and strikes. Ryker spun and made a vertical cut with his dagger, and Neal deflected it and came in with a spell of ice on his blade. Ryker parried and commanded a burst of fire to erupt from his dagger, and slashed at Neal. He swerved and dodged Ryker’s blade, and delivered a side kick to the warlock’s stomach. Ryker stumbled, and Neal closed in and made a quick strike to the man’s chest.

  Ryker shouted something, and the satyr Black Wolf rushed in his and Neal’s direction. Although I saw Ryker’s arms and legs get slashed in the distance, and Neal finally making a killing strike, I didn’t think he would be able to turn around and reach me quickly. Neal stood hunched over, exhausted, and had to defend himself against the satyr Black Wolf, which charged with its mouth widened to an enormous size.

  I screamed when the eyeless Black Wolf jumped on me and released the invisible force that had been holding me down. It pinned my arms down as it peered into my eyes, blocking my view of Neal. I struggled to break free and beat back the Wolf, dreading being ripped to shreds at any moment. The Black Wolf’s nose flared again, and its gaze traveled down my arm until it reached my bloodied hand. I cried out in disgust as its black tongue shot out, burrowed itself into the wound and began making slow rhythmic swallows. The other Black Wolf, the green one with claws, came bounding from behind us and shoved the eyeless one aside. It didn’t surprise me. I had seen Black Wolves turn on their Nazi masters and eat them, even the non-warlocks. The Wolves eventually got to a point where they would no longer recognize authority or any rational motive--if something had blood pumping through its veins and was edible, it was dinner--and unfortunately, I was on the menu. The only person I’ve seen completely control them was Marcellus, Octavian’s brother, who could speak their strange language and had the strength to make the Wolves submit.

  However, the two Wolves over me didn’t look ready to submit to anyone or anything. The one with claws tore at the eyeless Wolf’s face and tried to seize me. The eyeless one opened its mouth and shot out a stream of fire, engulfing the other creature in flames. The clawed Wolf stood there shrieking until its face melted, and it collapsed to the ground. I stared in shock when I realized that the eyeless Wolf had just used Zaman’s Fire to kill the other one.

  I should have died in the car crash.

  This monster should not have any of my powers, not even a portion of them. As the eyeless Wolf jumped back onto me and bared its teeth, I swung my knife in an arc and stabbed it in the head. It roared, and I withdrew the knife and made another stab. It backed away, and I screamed for Neal. I glanced over in his direction and saw him with both of Ryker’s enchanted daggers, making methodical stabs and cuts to the satyr Wolf’s torso and tendons. An odd flash erupted from the satyr Wolf’s mouth, and Neal went flying backward over the fencepost. The Wolf flew over to him and shapeshifted into Neal’s double, and the two fought. The false Neal mimicked Neal’s
moves, but moved a little slower because of its injuries. Neal spun and made downward strikes with both enchanted daggers into the false Neal’s chest. It convulsed and bled a thick black substance before morphing back to its original form; it slumped to the ground dead.

  I scrambled to my feet and turned toward the eyeless Wolf that had just regenerated from the stab wounds I gave it. The monster warily approached, sniffing in the direction of my hand again, looking for more blood and magic. Its tongue shot out and struck my knife-hand like a whip. My fingers spasmed, and the knife fell to the ground. As I swooped down to pick up the knife, the Black Wolf was on me in a flash. I sank to my knees as I dug my fingers into its pale face in order to keep it away, but its teeth grazed the side of my face, and I knew, this time, the Wolf was going to completely drain me of my blood and kill me.

  Suddenly, I felt my father’s ring that hung around my neck warm up, generating heat until it almost began to burn. An invisible force catapulted the Black Wolf into the air, and then it exploded in a ball of fire. I doubled over, still on my knees, gasping for breath. My heart leapt when I saw my father rushing toward me from the south. He had finally returned, as he had promised.

  “Dad!” I winced and sat with my legs folded beneath me. They felt like rubber, my right hand throbbed and my ribs ached without mercy.

  My father knelt down and touched my cheek. “Isabella, let’s go--”

  I recoiled when one of Ryker’s daggers pierced my father from behind and the blade emerged from his chest. Neal twisted the dagger, and my father’s face screwed up in pain. I let out a scream of shock, feeling as if I were the one being stabbed. Dread paralyzed my entire body as I watched my father clench his teeth. Why was Neal doing this?

  “Your advanced age has become a liability, Carson. This was bound to happen.” He pulled the blade back and released my father.

  “That blade,” my dad said, as blood flowed down his shirt, “the enchantment on it...”