The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  With a sigh, Praskovya released Skye and slipped her knife into a sheath hanging on her belt. She glared at him and gathered the cash strewn on the table. “So, what brings you to Zagreb?”

  Skye wiped the blood from his neck and healed the superficial cut. “Nikon Praskovya--you should’ve been worm food in Spain. It looks like someone doesn’t know how to follow orders.”

  I crossed my arms. “I know how to keep promises. Praskovya, can we speak privately?”

  She nodded toward Marvo and slid some money across the table. “Drinks are on me. I’ll see you at the bar.”

  He pocketed the cash, and his two companions stood and headed toward the front. Marvo regarded us with a quick nod and then went for the bar. Praskovya stuffed her portion of money into her back pockets and then came around to claim Marvo’s seat. The waitress brought my soup, a chilled bottle of wine, and a bottle of beer. Praskovya grabbed the beer, kicked her feet up, and took a swig.

  “You’ve probably already heard about the Gray Tower,” I said, taking a delicate sip of soup from my spoon, even though I was hungry enough to just grab the bowl and guzzle it all down.

  Praskovya nodded. “Very unfortunate. But why are you in Zagreb?”

  Skye poured himself some wine and eyed her, probably wondering if he should explain anything to her at all. “We’re on our way out of here, and that’s all you need to know.”

  Praskovya frowned. “Well, you’re going to have a difficult time getting out of this city.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  She finished off her beer and set the empty bottle on the table. “Have you seen those trekkers in the streets?”

  I frowned. “Are they moving on toward Hungary, or are they staying here?”

  Praskovya placed her feet on the floor and leaned forward. “Oh, they’re staying, and they’re taking orders from a Cruenti warlock. If you don’t leave by tonight, you’ll be trapped in upper-town.”

  Skye rose from his seat. “How do you know all this? And how do we know you’re not working for the enemy?”

  I stood and placed my hand on Skye’s shoulder in a calming gesture. “If she was working for the enemy, she’d be dead. Remember the heart-bind? I still haven’t released her. She has to aid me and not work against me.”

  It had been the only reason why Skye released her from his prison and allowed her to accompany me to Spain. Praskovya was under a heart-bind, where she’d promised to fulfill the task of aiding me (which at the time was retrieving that teleportation talisman), and if she betrayed me or fled, all I had to do was exert my will on the bind and she’d die of a heart attack. I had told her that I’d release her once Octavian was defeated.

  Praskovya rolled her eyes. “And I was doing fine on my own, until you showed up. Do you expect me to help you?”

  I arched an eyebrow. “I expect you to be of use. Do you know who the Cruenti warlock is? And why is he bringing German troops here?”

  Praskovya lowered her head and exhaled a low breath. “He’s here to kill every single wizard trying to make it out of the city, and his name is Lyov Praskovya--my father.”

  Skye’s eyes widened. “We’ve got to warn the others. Come on, Isabella.”

  I batted his hand away when he reached for my arm, and stared at Praskovya. “Are you here because of your father? Have you been tracking him?”

  She waited a few seconds before responding. “All I ask is that none of you touch him. I want to kill him myself.”

  Skye grunted and faced me. “Master Lan and the others need to know about Lyov.”

  “And they will,” I assured him.

  He clenched his teeth when he saw that I didn’t share his same degree of distress. “Here’s the deal, sweetheart--they call Lyov the Dark Philosopher, and he’s Octavian’s protégé. This guy makes Vlad the Impaler look like Santa Claus.”

  My shoulders tightened with unease at hearing such a description. “You don’t have to tell me what he’s like.”

  He snorted. “Most Cruenti just leave regular people alone and only go after wizards. Lyov will slaughter an entire town because he can. He’d roast people and eat--”

  “All right. I get it.” I turned away and faced Praskovya. She knew more than most the extent of Lyov’s cruelty. “Where is he setting up?”

  “At the large warehouse in lower-town. He’ll be erecting a checkpoint near Stonegate to make sure none of you leave upper-town.”

  “Okay. If you need us, we’re at the M--”

  “I’m sure she’ll find us if she needs us.” Skye gripped my arm and pulled me away. As he led me past the dining tables and bar, I looked over my shoulder in Praskovya’s direction. She toyed with her empty beer bottle, and her eyes were downcast.

  When we stepped out of the tavern, he made a sharp right turn with me into an alley and pressed me against the wall. “Skye, what the hell--”

  “The SS is here,” he whispered, leaning in, so that his warm breath was on my cheek. Four SS officers came by and saw us in the alley. They chuckled to themselves and muttered to each other in German before moving on.

  When their footsteps faded, I shoved Skye off me in order to put space between us. He glared at me and asked, “You’re going to trust Nikon Praskovya?”

  My heart was racing. “I...I trust that she’s going to do whatever it takes to save her life, and right now that means obeying the heart-bind.”

  He threw me a dubious glance. “I hope you’re right.”

  “And what about you?” I peered into his light brown eyes.

  “What about me?”

  There was no use in avoiding the issue now. “I think you’re tainted.”

  He stepped in closer. “Who told you that?”

  I backed into the wall. “Doesn’t matter. Is it true?”

  His breathing became shallow, and darkness swallowed his eyes. “Are you saying I can’t be trusted? That I’m some kind of monster?”

  I leaned against the wall for support and emphatically shook my head. “I’m just trying to understand. I want to help. Maybe if...can I read you?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched, and, for a moment, I thought he’d smash me against the wall and flee. Instead, he inclined his head toward me and waited. I slowly brought my palms up, cupping his chin in my hands, feeling the warmth and smoothness of his skin. I let out a low breath as I sent a tendril of energy spinning forth, as light and soft as silk. I felt like I was diving into a river and being pulled along a strong current; his magic was deep and strong, and the energy was electrifying. With a slight queasiness in my stomach, I wondered if this was what Ammon tasted when he drained energy from me.

  I continued treading carefully and sensed the markers that identified him as a nature wizard, which meant he could restore or disrupt the flow of human and creature bodies, even manipulate and transform them. He tensed when I finally came upon something, latent in his magical aura, that wasn’t supposed to be there. It ate at him like a cancer. The only way I could describe it was to say it was like dipping your foot into a pool of water, only to find a layer of tar beneath. I immediately felt ill, and so I backed off and returned closer to the surface, where his power was less tainted and more tasteful.

  “That’s enough.” He pulled my hands down. His eyes returned to their normal color.

  My stomach ached. “What is that? What happened to you?”

  His nostrils flared, and he stepped sideways. He turned his face away and avoided my gaze. “You were there when I had Octavian in my grasp.”

  I nodded. Skye had fully transformed into the Black Dragon and hovered at a second story window. He had reached through to seize Octavian as he tried to run me down. I asked in a gentle voice, “Did he place a curse on you?”

  Skye shook his head. “I tried to bite the bastard’s head off. Next best thing to decapitation by sword, I figured. Only...it wasn’t a clean bite. I got his blood in my mouth, and he regenerated and blew me out of the sky.”

  “You swallowed his bl
ood?” I grimaced.

  “I already talked to Master Lan about it.” He finally raised his head and peered into my eyes. “He said he’d need time to find a cure.”

  That would be difficult. The only people we knew of who drank a Cruenti warlock’s blood were sycophants, people preparing themselves to become Cruenti. When people in the normal world began weaving the vampire myth to explain Cruenti, they also told of how vampires would sire new ones through choosing people to consume their blood. The effect of it was an obvious taint on the person drinking Cruenti blood, and some wizards who’ve hunted Cruenti have even reported sycophants having a psychic connection with their sires.

  I placed my hand on Skye’s shoulder and chose my next words carefully. “How bad is it?”

  His mouth hung slightly open in shock. Perhaps he expected me to turn away in disgust and not offer a gesture of comfort. “I...wake up ill every morning. I’ve got to use my nature magic just to balance it out. If I try to transform, it hurts like hell and just drains me even more.”

  “Do you...sense Octavian? Is there any connection?”

  He nodded, and I tried not to visibly cringe. He shook his head, unaccepting of what was happening to him. “Sometimes it feels like he’s reaching out to me, and I’m just...enthralled, I don’t know. Like, I need more of his blood.” When he saw me clench my teeth in a frown, he quickly added, “But it’s not like it’s a two-way connection, and I haven’t hurt anyone. And I’d never betray you, Master Lan, or anyone else. I just need to get this out of me and become my normal self again. I’m just...screwed up.”

  Although his entire admission unnerved me, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy. Right before Skye came to my aid that day, Octavian had nearly succeeded in forcing me to drink his blood. This could’ve very well been me standing here, making the confession. A part of me also understood what it felt like to be different, to be told that something was “wrong” about me, and to feel like an outsider--alone.

  “I remember you telling me that we’re all screwed up,” I said with a tentative smile. “I’ll help you and Master Lan find a cure. And if you feel that it’s getting worse, you need to tell him--or me.”

  He nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

  We both gazed in the direction of the street when two more SS officers passed the alley. “We should get out of here,” I said.

  Skye nodded. “We have to tell the others about Lyov Praskovya.”

  My arms trembled, and I felt a pinch between my shoulder blades. We turned and went back out into the street, quickening our steps when we saw another trekker and a tank roll by.

  Brande and Master Lan hadn’t returned yet when we arrived at the inn. Skye was in surprisingly high spirits. It probably felt good to finally share with someone the torture and uncertainty he’d endured since we left the Gray Tower. The tension pulling at the corners of his mouth faded, and his eyes were bright and alert instead of tired. He walked me into the lobby with his arm still looped around mine. He asked what I wanted to do next.

  I stopped at the door that led to the courtyard and faced him. “Actually, I have lessons with Izsak. I had an...interesting afternoon with you.” I was glad I had an excuse. I was still processing what he had shared with me earlier, and besides--I was enjoying his company a little too much.

  He released my arm, but didn’t look disappointed. “Thank you for the date.”

  I snorted. “Never mind the fact that I’m already taken, but need I remind you that we went to a tavern where you forced your way into a poker game and almost got your throat slit by a Russian spy? No woman on the planet would consider that a date.”

  “All the same, I had a lovely time. Thanks for putting up with me.” He reached for my hand and raised it to his lips. “You’re an angel, Isabella.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  He grinned and pressed the back of my hand to his lips. The warmth of his touch stirred me, and my breath caught in my throat. “I should go...”

  He ignored my statement and slowly turned my hand. He kissed the inside of my wrist, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing my skin and sending a rush of excitement through me. I pulled away. He exhaled a slow breath, his gaze still meeting mine like a predator eyeing its prey.

  “I’ll leave you to your lessons.”

  I mumbled goodbye and turned toward the door. I stepped out into the courtyard, refusing to look over my shoulder. In the center of the courtyard, I saw Mehara leading Cliff and Sadik in their sparring. The boys heaved and sweated, trying to keep up with her forms, and they only paused to wave hello to me when I emerged. A few young women and a young man sat on the grass just a few feet away, hypnotized by the display and watching their moves. Izsak sat at a corner table, shading himself from the afternoon sun and counting a stack of pencils. When he saw me, he smiled and beckoned me toward him.

  “Good afternoon, Isabella. I’ve been going over the text and comparing some notes. I think I may have something to help you hold down the Circle once you cast it.”

  I forced a smile and took the seat across from him. “That’s good to hear.” I hoped that our next session would be a success, because I had little time left, and our enemies were closing in.

  Mehara, breathing heavily from the physical exercise, told the boys they were done for the day. I saw Cliff and Sadik rush over to the four onlookers sitting on the grass and join them in excited conversation. Mehara wore her hair in a long braid and threw it over her shoulder. She wiped the sweat from her brow and approached.

  “How are they doing?” I asked.

  She slid into the seat next to me. “Very well. Cliff is able to project an opponent’s movements up to eight steps ahead, and Sadik’s mental magic is far more stable.”

  “Good. They’re going to need to be able to defend themselves.”

  I shifted my gaze in their direction. They could’ve been a group of teenagers spending time together without a care in the world. Most of the other guests at the Mala Kuca Inn were refugees from Hungary and Czechoslovakia, displaced for different reasons, trying to decide if they wanted to stay or head somewhere else to create a new home. There was an immigrant family staying here too, but we rarely saw them out and about.

  Mehara frowned. “What is it?”

  “Lyov Praskovya has brought in SS and German military. He’s coming for us.”

  Izsak arranged his pencils in a neat line, and, without looking up at us, said, “Pity, this city decided to never take down that old wall built around this area. Once the SS sets up the blockade, we’ll all be trapped in upper-town.”

  “I should scout ahead,” Mehara said, “to see how much progress they’ve made. Perhaps there’s still time to slip by. I’ll ask Cliff and Sadik to go down to the hotel and find Master Lan and Brande.”

  “No,” I said. “Lyov will most likely have other warlocks with him, and if they sense you and try to capture you, they’ll probably launch an immediate attack on the area. We need a non-wizard to go scout.”

  Both Mehara and I turned toward Izsak. He jolted, sending his neatly aligned pencils tumbling to the ground. “You want me to do what?”

  I leaned forward. “Just take a walk past Stonegate, grab a cup of coffee at a café, then come back and tell us everything you’ve seen.”

  His lower lip trembled. “But...but what about your lesson today? I was going to show you something new.”

  A razor sharp edge of anger jumped out of nowhere and gripped my heart. “I’ll let Mehara help me. At least she knows what it feels like to cast a Circle. I may actually get something done today.”

  He gaped at me, his expression crestfallen. “Oh...all right. I’ll go.”

  “You can add this experience to that autobiography you’re writing.” I gave him a contemptuous smile.

  I suddenly had to stop myself before I said anything else. I was doing it again. I was thinking and saying things that I would never say, because I had a sense of decency and respect for other people and their feeli
ngs. And Skye...if I had my head on straight, he would’ve gotten a friendly wave goodbye. This wasn’t my normal self. This wasn’t me.

  Mehara frowned at me in silent reproach. “I think you’re a very brave man, Izsak.”

  His expression suddenly brightened. “Well...I don’t want to sound like a braggart, but I once thought of being a detective. I suppose if you need me, then I must oblige.”

  He pushed his stack of notes toward Mehara: the Circadian Circle page, and several others, explaining in detail how the Circle should be cast, how I should stand, and how to shift and direct the Circle. When Izsak took off, Mehara sent Cliff and Sadik to retrieve Brande and Master Lan. Their new friends, who had been watching them spar, accompanied them. Already feeling tired and apprehensive that this wouldn’t work, I followed Mehara’s instructions and stood in silence in the middle of the courtyard, my arms lifted at my sides as if I were about to float into the air and take flight. It reminded me of the position of the arms and legs of the androgynous person inside the Circadian Circle drawing.

  “Now, clear your mind,” Mehara said, circling me. “Envision the numbers in your mind, like a blazing fire. Concentrate on what they represent--balance and restoration.”

  I exhaled and closed my eyes. I focused on the Circadian Circle, using the golden mean as its foundation. I fed my energy into the Circle, and I could feel it forming around me, making my fingertips burn and the environment around me hum. I felt the strain of the Circle already creeping up on me, and my muscles began aching and my mind grew weary. I severed my connection to the Circle and let it fade, opening my eyes with disappointment tugging at me.

  “This is tougher than I thought.” I bitterly thought of Ammon and how he had drained me earlier this morning.

  “Give yourself some time,” Mehara said.

  “That’s a luxury we really don’t have.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, you’ve improved in your mental defense.”

  “Now that’s something I can do.” I was willing to practice again. At least I was good at it, and it would direct my mind toward other things. I didn’t want to think about how Ammon was worming his way in and influencing me, how everyone put all of this responsibility on my shoulders, and now it felt like a crushing boulder that I wanted to cast off. And, I especially didn’t want to think about how I was courting danger by being alone with Allan Skye.