The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  A realization suddenly took hold of me: the first time I truly wanted to use my powers to drift in and out of time was when I had lost Ken. Though Octavian was a monster, he cared about his brother, Marcellus. If I were Octavian, the first thing on my list would be to go back and save my brother.

  One of the rifts above the tree flashed an ocean blue and glided toward me. It reflected images just like the scrying mirror in the Sanctuary, I peered into it and saw the familiar landscape of Reims, France. I focused on the Ruinart champagne house. Instead of holding my palm against the window view, I pushed forward and stepped through. I was swallowed in a blaze of light and landed across the street. Just as I remembered that night back in June, the streets were nearly empty because of the Nazis’ curfew, but the local SS officer in charge, Simon Vester, kept Ruinart open late.

  I ran across the street, fitting in perfectly with the men and women darting in different directions, trying to make it home before they were noticed by patrols. I opened the front door to the champagne house and glanced around the lounge. A group of privileged people sat around sipping drinks and enjoying the pianist in the center playing a melody. Though the lights were dimmed and the place was alive with music and chatter, I easily spotted myself--my past self-- sitting next to Brande in a booth, drinking bubbly glasses of Cuvée.

  I didn’t know what the rules or consequences were for time travel, but my gut instinct told me that interfering or going over to talk to the other Isabella were to be absolutely avoided. I sat at a table near the piano and caught glimpses of them from my peripheral. I frowned when I saw Brande’s arm move--that was when he had placed his hand next to mine, and I ignored him. I saw both him and the other Isabella finish off their drinks and head into the kitchen area. I waited a few minutes before following and reaching a shaft in the back that the servant boys would use to send wine bottles up from the cellars below.

  I slid down the pulley rope, my arms shaking with anxiety and my hands burning from the chaffing. I rushed past the racks of wine in the musty cellar and snaked through the winding tunnel, my only light the iron sconces mounted on the walls. I reached the entrance the other Isabella and Brande took. It was so dark that I almost tripped over the two dead guards just outside the door which led to the secret laboratory. I slowly pushed the door open. Waves of magic, both dark and light, hit me like heat from a burning oven.

  The other Isabella must’ve already gone through the large grate in the ceiling above the front desk. The plan was to crawl through and carve Sublimation symbols so that she could blow up the entire lab at the right time. I decided to go through the left corridor and stay away from her. I ran down the hall, passing empty research rooms and growing queasy at the presence of four Black Wolves in the lab.

  I had a choice between rounding a corner and going through an open doorway just ahead, and I almost chose the doorway that led to the open kitchen area--until I saw a Black Wolf dragging Brande by his right leg. My heart pounded in my chest as I rushed forward and pressed my back against the wall, the doorway right next to me. For a moment, I thought about sending in a disruptive bolt of energy or blasting the Black Wolf with Zaman’s Fire, but I remembered my promise to myself--and I was afraid that I would make things worse by stepping in when I shouldn’t.

  He’ll make it out. Just the way I remember...

  I continued down the corridor and nearly tumbled to the floor when an explosion from the ceiling--no doubt caused by one of the other Isabella’s Sublimations--pushed a ball of fire toward me. I swerved and regained my balance. I kept running, but had to skid and jump behind a corner when I saw my two friends, Ernest and Lucien, firing gunshots at an SS officer. Ernest was a Tuskegee pilot who had also doubled as a spy, and, along with his friend Lucien from the Free French Army, had agreed to help the other Isabella raid the laboratory and provide backup.

  While Ernest and Lucien took cover behind a corner on the opposite side, the SS officer shielded himself with a barricade in one of the research rooms. Each side went back and forth, sending a burst of bullets into the enemy’s direction, until Lucien finally hit the officer in the shoulder. The man let out a shout, and when he stumbled backward, Ernest rushed forward, jumped the barricade, and delivered a final shot to the other man’s chest.

  Lucien stepped forward. “Do you think that’s all of them?”

  With a heavy sigh, Ernest wiped his brow and examined his newly acquired pistol. He seemed satisfied with the amount of bullets he had. He gripped the gun. “I hope so. Have you seen a Black Wolf yet?”

  Lucien shook his head. “I don’t care to see another one as long as I live. Leave the Black Wolves to the wizards. We need to go down the corridor to make sure no more SS officers are here.”

  Another explosion erupted above them and they dove for cover. I grimaced when I saw how close Lucien and Ernest were to being roasted alive. Ernest brushed the dust from his shoulders and cursed. “Explain to me again, why we volunteered to help Isabella? This woman is about to kill us with her alchemy voodoo.”

  Lucien gave him a wry smile. “I believe you said something along the lines of, ‘We’re going to kick Nazi ass, and we’ll be helping out that cute alchemist.’”

  Ernest tossed Lucien a revolver and jumped the barricade. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

  Lucien rolled his eyes. “Let’s go that way. There’s a wider corridor that can lead us across to the other side.” They went down the hall and made a right turn.

  I finally slipped from my hiding place and made a left turn so that I wouldn’t run into them. I was considering going back toward the main entrance until I tasted the tainted presence of dark magic--a Cruenti. I rounded another corner and approached an equipment room with double doors that were completely blown off their hinges. Marcellus came into view, his dark hair drenched with sweat and his handsome face screwed up in concentration. Both Father Gabriel and Marcellus had elemental abilities, so trying to blast each other with fire hadn’t done much good. He swerved and avoided a downward strike of Father Gabriel’s blade, retaliating with a blinding spell. The priest fell back, waving his free arm to disperse the mud-colored fog that went straight for his eyes.

  Marcellus leapt with a deadly grace through the pestilential fog, teeth bared and eyes gleaming. Gabriel must have suspected the fog was a distraction and immediately knelt on one knee, tilting his silver sword so that when Marcellus landed on him, he would be impaled. Marcellus’ jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he fell onto the sword. Gabriel slid the sword free and stood just as Marcellus fell to his knees. The Cruenti watched the blood pour from his wound in shock. He wasn’t regenerating.

  “What is this?” Marcellus asked in a hoarse voice. His trembling fingers covered the dark, slick hole in his stomach.

  Gabriel raised his sword high as he poised himself to make the killing strike. “This is the blessed sword of Saint George.”

  “No!” Marcellus shouted as the sword swung in a downward arch.

  A bright light engulfed the entire room and receded as quickly as a flash. When my eyes adjusted, I saw Gabriel still going for his strike, but his arms moved at a snail’s pace. That’s when I knew Octavian had arrived to intervene. Just as I rushed into the room, a bolt of energy struck me, and every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire. I fell back with a shriek, but forced myself to stand again.

  Though it unnerved me to be hit with a spell that only I should be able to cast, I rushed forward again to stop Octavian, but he was already ahead of me. Moving quickly, he wrest the sword from Father Gabriel’s grasp and then returned the speed of time to normal. Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up and he lurched forward, realizing his sword had just disappeared. Marcellus looked just as confused as Gabriel, but he had the presence of mind to take advantage of the confusion and grab Gabriel by his black shirt, yank the turtleneck collar down, and bite down on his neck.

  Gabriel let out a shout, and I sent a blaze of Zaman’s Fire straight toward Marcellus. Octavian deflected i
t and sent another disruptive bolt my way, but I matched it with my own and canceled out the energy. Marcellus released Gabriel and jumped to his feet, cursing and blaspheming. Marcellus shoved his fingers down his throat in order to vomit.

  “I was about to tell you not to drink his blood,” Octavian said, still gripping the sword. I cast a Circadian Circle and Octavian immediately cast one of his own, directly over mine. Whatever move I’d make, he’d just mirror it or cancel it out. I cautiously stepped toward Gabriel, thinking if I could get a hold of him, then I could at least envelop him in a Circle of Protection.

  Marcellus doubled over and vomited blood. He wiped his tongue and chin. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Blood ran down Gabriel’s neck, and he looked disoriented. He pulled a dagger from a sheath in his belt and hurled it straight toward Marcellus’s heart. The Cruenti erected a shield just in time to prevent the blade from sinking into his chest. I stepped closer toward Gabriel, still sensing Octavian’s Circadian Circle.

  “This one’s a priest,” Octavian answered. He stood behind Gabriel, and in a smooth motion ran him through with the sword. The thrust of the blade was so forceful that it impaled Father Gabriel. Its tip burrowed into the ground, effectively pinning the priest in his vulnerable kneeling position.

  Not caring if Octavian would hit me with another bolt or clash his magic with mine, I ran over to Gabriel and held him upright so that his body wouldn’t slide down along the sword. My eyes burned with tears, and my throat constricted at the sight of his pained expression. Marcellus finally acknowledged my presence, quietly observing me and tilting his nose upward as he drew in my scent.

  His lips curved into an incredulous smile, and then he let out a chuckle. “She’s the Drifter?”

  Octavian walked over to his brother and placed his hand on the wound in his stomach which refused to heal. Octavian’s hand lit up an eerie red, and Marcellus winced. I steadied Gabriel with my left hand and then used my right hand to draw the sword back to release him. Gabriel grunted and collapsed to the floor. I set the sword aside and used both hands to roll him onto his back and press down on his chest wound, sending a rush of body magic to impart whatever healing I could.

  “You were close, Marcellus, but failed. You’re fortunate I caught her, or else you’d be dead.”

  I focused on Gabriel. He gazed into my eyes and spoke inaudible words. He gasped, and the light in his eyes faded. He was gone. The beating heart that I just felt in the grasp of my body magic had come to a halt. My entire body trembled, and my mind began frantically racing through fears and questions. If I went back into the future, would he be alive or dead? Would his death here change nothing? Or would it change everything? This wasn’t right. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  “Are you offering her as a gift?” Marcellus asked, stepping toward me. I fortified my Circadian Circle and even used it to latch on to Octavian’s. His hold on it had loosened when he used his magic to heal his brother.

  Octavian laughed. “Don’t think for a second I am that generous. Her blood is mine. I’ve earned it.”

  Marcellus knelt next to me, his gaze going from Father Gabriel’s lifeless body to my face. “What about the rest of her?”

  I clenched my teeth and usurped Octavian’s Circadian Circle. He may have been intelligent enough to adapt and use Drifter abilities, but he didn’t have the training I did. I sent a jolt throughout the Circle that disrupted both of their heart rhythms and distorted their brains. Both men yelled in response, their auras flaring wildly and their faces screwing up in pain. I gripped the hilt of the gold knife I had tucked away in my belt, but loosened my hold when I saw Marcellus collapse.

  I felt an invisible hand grab me by the collar and pull me backward and through the doorway. I turned in a circle twice, glancing in every direction, but seeing only an empty hall. What the hell was that?

  “What are you waiting for?” Father Gabriel’s voice said. “Run!”

  A rift appeared to my right, and I stood there with my mouth gaping. I peered up and down the corridor. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

  “I died back there, Isabella.”

  I wanted to cry. “But why are you--”

  “Go through the rift, and it will take you back to the olive tree. The points of light you saw belong to the Akashic Record.”

  “But Octavian--”

  “Your Circadian Circle killed Marcellus. Octavian will follow you, and you’ll know what to do.”

  “All right...”

  I slipped into the rift and felt a tug in my stomach area, as if I were flying. When the brightness faded, I found myself in the pasture with the large olive tree once again. I cast a Circadian Circle and began layering others onto it. I tightened my hold on them with my magical energy, just in case Octavian tried to usurp or manipulate them. My neck ached and my shoulders felt strained, but I wanted to be prepared to blast him away with everything I had. Once I finished casting my intricate set of Circles, I exhaled a deep breath and leaned my back against the tree. I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out what to do next, even though Father Gabriel’s voice told me I would know. I wondered if he was still with me.

  “Can you hear me?”

  No answer.

  “How am I supposed to stop Octavian?”

  Silence greeted me again.

  “Hey, I could really use some help here.”

  A tremor made the ground beneath me sway, and the tree groaned in protest. A gust of wind caused the countless leaves to flutter, and my heart froze in my chest as I felt Octavian nearby. I walked around the tree when another earthquake hit, pressing my hand against the cool trunk in order to keep my balance. My chest tightened when I spotted Octavian a hundred yards away, emerging from a hole in the ground, a few inches taller than his normal height and his skin a scintillating gray that reminded me of storm clouds. His eyes shone a deep orange, and when he sneered at me, I literally felt the cold hatred creep up my spine and constrict my throat.

  I gathered my will and launched a hailstorm of magic down on him from my Circles, but he flew into the air and slipped into one of the points of light hanging in mid-air. He emerged from a different point of light, but then immediately streaked across and went through another rift. The tree groaned again, and the points of light Octavian delved into began flickering until they plummeted to the ground like falling stars. Balls of fire erupted in the sky, and shadow figures followed Octavian’s trail. Father Gabriel had said this was the Akashic Record--the Mind of the Universe--past, present, and future. And now a monster was tearing it apart.

  I gazed wide-eyed at the destruction. If many of these points of light were specific events in our world, and they spanned across our entire human history, then destroying those windows and snuffing out the points of light would irreparably damage the world. But, he didn’t care. He was the type of person who would gladly see the entire world in ruins if only he could call himself lord over it.

  I thought of my friends and family, and focused on Romania. I envisioned the chill of the Iron Gates’ cliffs and the gush of the Danube River. One of the points of light lowered near me, and I peered through the window. My knees weakened at the sight: The unyielding stone where the Den was tucked away had succumbed to an unnatural tempest. The river’s frothing water rose into the air and claimed boats and ferries, dragging people to their deaths. The tiny town I had seen earlier suddenly disappeared, leaving no evidence that it had ever existed. With glee, shadows resembling burning embers flew through the air, making frightful noises and sending white jags of lightning from their hands, down onto buildings and people.

  I cast a Circadian Circle over the Iron Gates, since I wasn’t sure if any of my family and friends had teleported out of there yet. I infused it with a protective shield, as if placing a ward. My hands began shaking, and I pulled back. I drew upon the power in my Circles I had cast only minutes ago, and focused on the rifts. With as much speed and precision I could muster, I reached out with white ja
gs of light, pure energy, and sealed several rifts at a time. I extended my hand toward the rift over Romania, and sending a glistening web of magic toward the dark beings roaming the air, I ensnared them and pulled them back through. The moment they fell back into this other world with me, I unleashed Zaman’s Fire. The shadow beings shrieked and turned as black as coal under the pain of the Fire, and burst into ashes.

  I rubbed my sweaty palms and steadied my trembling arms. I knew I needed to close all the rifts, but it worried me that the little town near the Iron Gates never reappeared. Just as I was about to turn my attention to the rifts hanging above me throughout the sky, Octavian emerged from the ground behind me, throwing his arms around me and clamping them down tight so I couldn’t turn or escape.

  I cast a Circadian Circle and he mimicked my move, smothering my magic with his own and yanking my Circle from my grasp. It sent my head spinning. “The magic doesn’t distinguish between us,” he said. “Whatever you repair, I will smash...whatever you lift up, I will drag down.”

  He kept one arm snaked around me and lifted the other up toward my face. His skin was still tinged with that sickly gray color, but there was no mistaking that the vibrant red liquid dripping from a swell in his arm was his tainted blood. My stomach clenched and I turned my face away in refusal. My mind raced over every single encounter I had with him, including what I’d seen of him in the throne room. Everything flooded my mind until things finally began to connect. I saw a way out--I knew what to do.

  My voice shook as I spoke to him. “You won’t be able to save your brother again.”

  He pressed his wounded arm to my face. His blood smeared against my cheek when I turned my head. “I can manipulate the Akashic Record. I’m like a god in this place. I’ll return for my brother, and I’ll kill everyone in that laboratory--perhaps even you.”