The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “Thank you.” I smiled at the priest’s words--and then I immediately felt like crap because of Ammon. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?

  Father Gabriel continued. “We also believed that we needed to have our own forces at our disposal. Not just out of a sense of rivalry, but as a backup in case anything ever happened to the Tower.”

  “Like Octavian’s attack.” I bit my lip and faced my father. “Dad, are there more facilities like this?”

  My father observed the throng of wizards on the first level below. “There are two facilities altogether in this region and several more throughout the world.”

  I turned to my left and faced Father Gabriel. “I remember when we first met. I kept asking you who had trained you.”

  He inclined his head. “Now, you have your answer. When I caught up to Brande Drahomir in France back in June--”

  “I told Father Gabriel to watch Brande and to keep you two apart.” My father frowned.

  His admission annoyed me, but I understood why he would do that. Brande had been one of the seven trackers sent by the Gray Tower to hunt him down when they still believed my dad was the Drifter. When Brande had caught up with my father, in Salon-de-Provence, Father Gabriel intervened under the guise that he had mistaken Brande for a warlock, which had allowed my father the few precious seconds he needed to escape before the other trackers arrived.

  At some point, my father must’ve figured out that the Masters had ordered Brande to stay close to me, so that when my father approached, Brande could strike him down. They didn’t anticipate that Brande would actually develop feelings for me, and he ended up standing with me against the Tower, even at the risk of his own life.

  “Dad, you really ought to be nicer toward Brande. You can’t use the excuse of not trusting him anymore.”

  He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. So that’s where I got it from. “We’ll talk about this some other time.”

  I let out an exasperated breath. “Does he have to throw himself on a grenade to win your approval?”

  “That’s a start.”

  Father Gabriel pretended to cough and quickly covered his mouth with his hand. He cleared his throat and gestured toward the large group on the main floor. The group had now broken into smaller units for sparring exercises. The priest gestured toward them. “Their cohorts in the other facility have already gone ahead to Switzerland, as we’ve instructed, and this group will leave tomorrow.”

  I reached out with my senses and gauged the magical ability of several of the wizards below. I was impressed with their strength, and, for the first time since fleeing the Gray Tower, I grew excited about the task before me. I’d been so preoccupied with the hardships, the fears and sacrifices, that I didn’t leave any room to appreciate the help that I received. I wasn’t going at this alone.

  I threw my arms around both my dad and Father Gabriel. “Thank you. This is what I needed.”

  We left through the secret door at the shrine, stepping into the cool night air. It was almost midnight. Father Gabriel went ahead, to the front, to find Signor Alighieri’s driver. As I strolled with my dad at a slow pace, I looped my arm in his, thinking of all the conversations and questions I had rehearsed myself having with him. They all seemed to elude me now, but one thing that still stayed with me was the memory of that dream with the blue door.

  “Dad, I think I remember something from when you and the others took me for...testing.” That was a euphemism, if there ever was one, but I was willing to forgive his past failings.

  He nodded. “It’s about the doorway, isn’t it?”

  “What is it? Why do I have to go through it?”

  He stared straight ahead. It was a little too forced. “Ekwueme told me that it was important. My old friend, Veit, once said that it was just another rift that you would need to control.”

  We came alongside the church building, toward the street where Signor Alighieri’s driver was parked. I looked into my dad’s eyes and asked, “Who is coming? You told me that someone would come, and then I’d have to go through the door.”

  A touch of fear flashed in his eyes, and he exhaled a low breath. “Isabella...you know that everything I’ve done for you was in your best interest, and that I would never--”

  Something fell from the sky and crashed into the roof of the car. It was the driver--well, most of him. His head and limbs were missing. I stifled a gasp of shock when I saw the bloodied stumps where his arms and legs should’ve been, and I didn’t even want to think about what had happened to his head.

  “Be on your guard!” Father Gabriel drew his silver sword and stood in the street, near the driver side of the car.

  The priest tilted his gaze upward, toward the dark sky, and a loud shriek broke the silence. We all erected shields around ourselves, and my father gestured for me to stay on the church steps. Gabriel still gazed at the sky, though he began carefully moving his feet and making his way toward the sidewalk to join my father. Another inhuman cry tore through the air, and something swooshed over the car.

  Father Gabriel ran toward one of the lampposts in front of the church, and suddenly it revealed itself--a Black Wolf. Larger than any I’d ever seen, the deformed monster swooped down with wide bat-like wings and tried to seize Gabriel. The priest escaped its grasp and used his free hand to grab the lamppost, swinging around just in time to face the Black Wolf and pierce it in the left eye with his silver sword. It made a high-pitched screech and pulled away.

  As if answering the large Black Wolf’s cry, two others landed in the street. Their limbs moved with fluid speed beneath their black cloaks as they went straight for my father. He met the first head-on, letting it crash against his protective magical shield. With a single gesture, my father weaved a spell of blindness that flew straight into the Black Wolf’s face. It stumbled and let out a shriek. The second Wolf leapt into the air and landed behind my father, swiping at his back with its glistening claws. My father hissed in pain, but managed to block a strike from the one in front of him.

  A third Wolf also arrived, one that looked like a man--perhaps a shadow of its former self--whose textured skin gave off a stone-like appearance. It approached me without seeming to walk or touch the ground, halting at the foot of the church’s steps. Jags of lightning shot out from its outstretched hand and broke my shield. It felt like getting punched and having the air knocked out of me. I fell backward and landed against the front door. I reciprocated with a streak of Zaman’s Fire that went in a straight line and crashed into the Wolf, engulfing it in flames. It let out a shriek before its face melted and its body collapsed in a steaming, putrid heap.

  I rushed down the steps toward my dad, but froze when he shouted for me to stop. The Black Wolf that had been facing my father lay dead, but the other one behind him dug its claws into his shoulders and snarled into his ear. My heart froze in my chest when I heard my father utter a few words in the Wolves’ guttural language. The Black Wolf responded in kind. My father said something else in that damnable language, the pitch of his voice matching the eerie sound that men who spoke that way would make, and I realized that he was asking the Wolf some type of question. The Wolf pulled my father in closer and widened its mouth, but he spoke a Word, and it felt like a fresh breeze. The Wolf slid its bloodied claws from my dad’s shoulders and stumbled backward before transforming into a pillar of ash. Within seconds, the ashes were scattered by a wind.

  I ran toward my father and grabbed hold of him. “Stay still.”

  His face contorted as if he were about to vomit. “I’ll be all right.”

  “What was that? Since when do Philosophers speak like Black Wolves?” I scanned the area for Father Gabriel. I saw him lop off the head of the large Black Wolf in a smooth move before doubling over in exhaustion.

  My father spasmed. “It’s...a profane version of the Words we use. Most Philosophers would never even admit to knowing the language...but I wouldn’t have done it without good reason.”

  My
chest tightened. “What did you ask it?”

  “It told me that Lyov Praskovya sent them to track us. There’s a band of Black Wolves headed toward the city.” He gestured for Father Gabriel to join us. He approached us, limping with his sword still drawn.

  “Dad...do they know we’re at Alighieri’s house?”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s best we get there before they do. Let’s go.”

  Darkness and silence permeated the house when we arrived. The housekeeper answered our incessant doorbell ringing and let us in, frowning and muttering in Italian at the late night disturbance. We alerted Signor Alighieri and called everyone into the main dining room, where we had dinner earlier. After telling them about the attack near the church, my dad began issuing instructions.

  “We’ll have to split into four groups and head straight for the Swiss border.” He paused, as if expecting one of us to object, but then faced the Master Alchemist and continued. “Cathana, you and Joran can take Cliff and Sadik.”

  “We’ll leave immediately, Carson.” She rushed toward him with a hug. “Be safe.”

  Cliff and Sadik looked like they wanted to argue, and I had a mind to ask if they could remain with me as well, considering all we had been through, but they didn’t want to challenge my father.

  Joran motioned toward the boys. “We’ll see them again in Switzerland, at the Gray Tower embassy, so don’t start your moaning.”

  “We weren’t going to moan,” Cliff said. He turned to face Brande and me. “We’ll see you guys in Switzerland. Be careful.”

  Cathana and Joran headed out with the boys.

  My father listed the next group. “Mehara, you’ll go with Father Gabriel and Gregory.”

  She raised an eyebrow at the men. “A priest, and a former Cruenti. This is getting interesting.”

  Gabriel gestured toward the exit. “These are interesting times. Shall we?” He and Gregory followed Mehara out.

  My father sighed. “Brande, you’ll leave with Isabella. I trust you can make it past the border without getting my daughter killed.”

  Brande narrowed his eyes. “You know I’ll do all I can to keep her safe.”

  My father gave him a curt nod, then turned to Izsak. “You’ll stay with Isabella and continue directing her in the Circadian Circles.”

  “Of course.”

  “And what about me?” Praskovya leaned against the dining room’s doorframe.

  “You’re with me.” My dad eyed her with a stern look. “I can still feel the Wolves in the city, and I don’t want them following our people.”

  “You’re going to pursue the Black Wolves?” Praskovya actually looked intrigued.

  He nodded. “You and I are going hunting.”

  “I need weapons.” She sized my father up.

  “Black duffle bag in the small closet in the main hallway.” He watched her leave and then faced me, pulling me into a warm embrace. “We should all be together again by tomorrow evening. Stay vigilant.”

  “Be careful, Dad.”

  My father left the room, and only Brande, Izsak, Signor Alighieri, and I remained. The elderly man looked worried.

  I grabbed his hand. “Signor, do you have any protective spells around the property?”

  He nodded and stuttered. “Yes...yes, I placed one a while ago.”

  Brande shook his head. “Signor, I’m afraid your protective spell is older than I am. I’ll cast a Circle of Protection and spread it across the property. It shouldn’t take long.”

  I eyed the elderly man with concern. “While Izsak is packing our things--” I gestured for Izsak to get started, “let’s have some tea. Brande will cast his Circle of Protection.”

  “I’ll be back.” Brande headed out.

  I had Alighieri go down the hall to the sitting room with the glass doors that opened out into the terrace and garden. I used an alchemical spell for Fire to heat up the water in a matter of seconds, and I strained some leaves in the water before pouring our cups. As I made it back over to Alighieri and handed him his drink, I could feel the low hum of Brande’s magic at work. He was spreading the Circle of Protection across the entire property.

  Alighieri had started the fireplace and wrapped a blanket around himself. With his impeccable smile, he accepted the tea. “I’ve not seen a Black Wolf in quite a while. If you’d like, you are free to stay another night.”

  I sat across from him and sipped my tea. “I’m afraid we couldn’t accept, and since they’re searching for my friends and me, it’s better that we leave. Brande’s Circle of Protection should reinforce your older spell.” I could already feel Brande weaving his protective spells and intricately melding them with Alighieri’s.

  “Thank you,” he said, running a gnarled hand through his stark white hair. “Though I daresay I am still able to defend myself if needed. I am an Apprentice, after all.”

  I smiled. “Signor, when did you leave the Gray Tower?”

  He licked his lips. “Back in 1890.”

  “Bless you,” was all I could say.

  I thought I heard Brande call my name from outside, and I set my cup aside and approached the glass double doors. I opened them and looked into the garden, but saw no one.

  “Isabella,” the whispering voice called again.

  “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me...” Allan Skye slinked from behind a tree and stepped through the garden. His face was pale and haggard, dark rings lined his eyes, and his tattered clothes hung loosely on him. I felt that same tremor of magic rolling off him as I did the night we drove into Trent. He must’ve been following us when we left Zagreb--and because I had tasted his magic and read him so deeply, we could sense each other all too easily. Great.

  Part of me felt relief at seeing him alive, but fear trickled down my spine as well. I hadn’t forgotten our last encounter, when he lunged at me as the Black Dragon. “Master Skye, wait over there. I’m going to get Brande.”

  “I’m not a dragon anymore...I won’t hurt you.” He wore a wounded look in response to my words.

  “I know,” I said, trying to suppress the anxiety welling up in me. “It’s just a precaution.”

  Skye squinted his eyes, swayed to the side, and fell to the ground.

  60

  The housekeeper and one of the maids helped me drag Master Skye in. We barely had time to set him on the large cushioned chair before Signor Alighieri urged the two women to retrieve his medical kit. Master Skye awoke, but still wagged his head as if disoriented. The housekeeper administered a droplet of liquid jade while the maid wrung hot water from a cloth and began wiping Skye’s face and arms.

  Both Alighieri and I stood at a distance, watching--and reaching out with our senses. The taint on Skye tasted sharp and prickly with a sickly odor. He may have shed his dragon form, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t any less dangerous. My jaw tightened when I thought of Brande, and my chest constricted with fear when I realized that his Circle of Protection was never completed. He should’ve done the job and returned by now.

  “Excuse me,” I said coolly, turning on my heel toward the doorway that led into the hallway.

  “Isabella,” Skye said with an almost desperate groan.

  I faced him and held his gaze. He roughly gestured for the housekeeper and maid to leave him alone, and they scurried away from the chair and over to the door. They threw worried glances in our direction before promptly exiting the sitting room.

  “What is it, Master Skye?” If I erected a protective shield or a Circle of Protection, he’d detect it. I didn’t want to make any moves that would provoke him.

  “Can...can your friend there bring me some food? And a drink?” Skye hissed in pain.

  Alighieri faced me with an anxious expression and asked in Italian, “What does he want?”

  Skye swung his arm and sent the medical kit crashing to the floor. When he saw us stiffen in response, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Does the old man speak English? I want food and drink.
Food...and...drink.”

  “Go and find my companion,” I told Alighieri in Italian.

  The elderly man hesitated. “He is tainted. He is dangerous...wild.”

  Skye leaned forward and clasped his hands together. His pupils became pools of darkness. “Well...?”

  “Signor Alighieri says he’ll bring food and wine.” A flickering smile crossed my lips to hide my unease.

  “I can help,” Alighieri said, trying not to make eye contact with Skye. “You shouldn’t be left alone with him.”

  “Tell him to leave!” Skye snapped. “As a Master Wizard, I command him to do as I asked.”

  I glared at him. “This is his house, and he’s old enough to be your father. Who cares if you outrank him?”

  Skye gestured to Alighieri in a demeaning manner, indicating he was dismissed. I gave the old man a subtle nod, encouraging him to comply. I hoped that he’d find Brande. Fast.

  “There you go again with your backtalk,” Skye said, making a motion with his hand toward the empty sofa adjacent to his seat. “We have something to discuss.”

  I approached and sat facing him. “You’ve gotten worse, haven’t you?”

  “Octavian’s talking to me now.” He watched me like a hawk to gauge my reaction. “And...I’m talking back.”

  I sucked in a quick breath and frowned. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Really? Well, I have a bit of information that you might be interested in.”

  “You can’t trust anything Octavian tells--”

  “Your old man and the other Masters who shielded you...they’ve set you up, sweetheart.”

  I shook my head. “Maybe you are far gone.”

  “Do you know why they want you to go through that blue door? Octavian said you’d know what I’m talking about.”