The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “I—”

  “Quiet.” His lower lip trembled, and his eyes bulged. “Why...why couldn’t you be that way with me?”

  “Mister Vester,” Praskovya said, “just shoot her and get it over with. We must find Heilwig and go.”

  “Stay out of this, Nikon.”

  “Simon.” I kept my voice level. “You’re still under the enchantment, and for it to last this long, you must’ve fed into it.”

  He dismissed my statement with an indignant look. “Remember that couple we saw in Ruinart? And remember the question I asked?”

  “Simon...” the next gunshot grazed my right arm, and I flinched as I sucked in a quick painful breath. I could feel a small stream of blood travel down and drip from my fingers. Though my legs quivered and my arms felt weak, I tried my best to not appear afraid. Showing him fear would only embolden him and make him feel more powerful.

  “I asked you if you remembered.”

  “Y-yes, Simon. I remember them.”

  “The way they looked at each other...it was the same way you two looked at each other. Now, I did everything you asked, so why don’t you love me?”

  “If you want me to answer,” I said, “put the gun away. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve laid Sublimations throughout the lab. If you shoot me, this entire place will explode.”

  “Sir,” Praskovya spoke slowly, apparently not wanting to provoke him in his instability. “Don’t shoot. Our first priority is finding Heilwig.”

  His eyes bulged again. “Oh shut up, Nikon! If you would let a man touch you every now and then, maybe you’d understand what I’m talking about, instead of reacting like a heartless bitch.”

  Simon’s gun flew out of his hand and into Praskovya’s. She shot him right in between his eyes—and then she shot him three more times before he even hit the ground.

  “You’re out of bullets, Praskovya.” I thought I’d remind her since she had turned the gun on me.

  “Then let’s play a game, Isabella.” She dropped the gun. “Let’s play...who can find the doctor first?”

  She sent both the desk and me flying toward the ceiling. I braced myself as I hit the roof and grunted in pain when the desk crashed against my back and knocked the breath out of me. Loose papers flew and encircled me like a tornado, so that I could barely see. When I landed with a crash, she had already gone out the door. I rose to my feet, back aching, and limped over to Simon’s body. I slid Heilwig’s ring off his finger and placed it on my own, then headed out the door toward Chamber One.

  I ran as fast as I could, taking every shortcut I could remember. If Heilwig wasn’t distracted or withheld, he should have followed the symbols carved in the ducts and be at the Ruinart entrance, if not already in the caves. As I raced through corridors and Chambers, I noticed the eerie silence permeating the laboratory. Worry caught hold of me, but I pressed on, remembering what my father had told me. I needed to bring Heilwig to safety, and he needed to remain by my side.

  After whisking through one last corridor, I finally arrived where I began, in Chamber One with the solitaire desk and the maps on the wall. I clenched my teeth when I remembered the six vials in the drawer, and hoped that I wouldn’t forget them before I ignited the place. When I heard the fall of footsteps coming in my direction from the corridor that Brande had taken earlier, I used my knife to enclose myself in a loose circular formation of symbols representing the four elements: Earth, Air, Water, and Fire.

  I pivoted and swept my foot across the symbols, feeding them with energy. I would only be able to do this once, or else I wouldn’t be strong enough to hold off those Sublimations in the ducts. I drew my pistol and waited. Sure enough, Praskovya came striding into the Chamber with Heilwig in tow. She held a colt revolver to the back of his head, and the case with the six vials was nestled under her other arm. Heilwig must have attempted to retrieve the case when Praskovya surprised him.

  “It appears I’ve won.” She gestured with a quick nod, ordering me to drop my weapon.

  “It isn’t over yet.” I placed my pistol on the ground and stood with hands raised.

  “Which do you care about more? Is it the doctor, or this formula that could destroy thousands of more lives? Which would you take?”

  “Are you offering me one or the other?” I started trying to figure out what her angle was.

  “Yes.”

  “Please,” Heilwig sank to his knees and crossed his hands behind his head. “Take the formula. They’ve already used me to spread their evil doctrines and to kill, and I selfishly went along, trying to save my Rosa. I shouldn’t have done this.”

  “If I were you, I’d take the formula, Isabella. He’s outlived his use to everyone, even the Gray Tower.” She cocked the revolver.

  “Why don’t you take both, Praskovya?”

  “Because you’ve laid Sublimation spells and would be willing to kill us all to keep me from taking him and the formula. However, I’m willing to compromise; we could at least walk away with something.”

  “I don’t—”

  “I know you just as well as you know me...and I think you’re tired of all this. Isabella, what better way to return to London than in victory? You’ve done your duty...if you continue, you’ll only end up like me.”

  Okay, maybe being broken wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to me, but I knew I’d never become a turncoat like Praskovya. “No. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve already got samples of the original formula, and they’re on their way to the British by now. The Allies would figure out sooner or later how to counteract the new one.”

  “Wrong. Again. The products at the Vélizy factory were carefully crafted decoys. The real stockpile is here.”

  My stomach tightened and my right hand involuntarily trembled. All I could think about was the trouble I had gone through at Vélizy, of victims like Timothy and all the lives that were risked and lost. If the decoys took most of my energy to work on and neutralize, then I wouldn’t even have a chance if I tried to replicate the neutralization with the real stockpile. How much more powerful were the real chemical weapons? The Plague was powerful enough to destroy the entire world.

  I gulped. “Well, I guess that’s all the more reason for me to bring this place crashing down on us, Praskovya.”

  Hopefully that wouldn’t be the case for my friends and me. I could already feel my hold on the symbols weakening, and my hand shook again. When another Sublimation gave way and an explosion could be heard from one of the chambers on the other side, my stomach tightened and I tried not to think about how I may have just killed Ernest or Lucien.

  “I don’t plan to die today,” Praskovya said, “and neither do you. Let’s be reasonable.” She slid the case over toward me, and it halted between us.

  “Take it.” Praskovya shoved the gun in between Heilwig’s shoulder blades. “Serve the greater good, and you can go back and tell SOE that you’ve saved thousands of lives by retrieving the formula.”

  Her words triggered my painful memory of that Orleans job. That pig Maquis leader said it had all been for the greater good and he boasted of how we had saved thousands of lives, if not millions. But he did it with blood on his hands...on my hands too. No, I wouldn’t leave Heilwig to be shot in the head or eaten by Marc so that I could boast about how I served the greater good. I’d find a way to get both him and the formula.

  “I want Heilwig.”

  She waited so long to respond that I thought she’d refuse. “Get up, and go to her.”

  As soon as Heilwig rose to his feet, I set off my Air symbol and mentally guided the strong gust of wind toward Praskovya. I knew she’d try to shoot Heilwig in the back. She flew backward, hit the wall with a crack, and fell to the floor. Heilwig grabbed the case and dashed toward me.

  Praskovya jumped to her feet and fired a few shots at us. I ran forward and deflected two bullets, though the action made my grazed arm sting and run with more blood. I shouted for Heilwig to keep running and head for the Ruinart cellars.
When I heard the front door open and shut, I felt a surge of confidence and energy. At least Heilwig made it out.

  “Bravo, Isabella.” She slipped her gun into her holster with an arrogant grin. “But there is something you’ve forgotten.”

  “Go ahead, enlighten me.” I stood ready to activate all four symbols and wreak havoc.

  “Where are your friends?”

  “I’m not playing your games anymore.” Though I spoke these words, fear grew inside me. Where were they? And why couldn’t I feel Brande?

  “Perhaps Marcellus is feasting on their blood.” She smiled. “But not Drahomir, I sent the Wolves after him.”

  I hated the fact that my emotions had the better of me in this moment, and I especially hated that she knew exactly where to strike. The fury within me began to burn.

  “Where’s Marc?”

  “I don’t know, but you should go look for him.”

  “I think you’re lying.” My chest tightened, and my stomach ached. Now I knew how Heilwig had felt when he heard about his wife. I prayed they were all safe, especially Brande. Defeating a few Black Wolves on your own might as well have been like raising the dead with a snap of your fingers.

  I fired a shot to distract her, knowing she’d use her powers to halt or deflect the bullet. I rushed her and pistol-whipped her, and she reciprocated with a middle-kick to my rib, to which I countered with a right hook. We both backed away, heaving and limping. When I heard Ernest call my name from the left corridor, my heart leapt, and I quickly delivered another strike, which she, in turn, blocked. She broke away and fled toward the corridor on the right. I was ready to follow her when I turned to see Ernest and Gabriel, hauling an unconscious Brande in between them, and Lucien trailing after them, using a makeshift walking stick to support his gait.

  “What happened to him?” I ran toward them and switched places with Gabriel, placing Brande’s left arm across my shoulders, supporting him.

  “It was a couple of Black Wolves.” Gabriel’s right cheek was swollen, and the cut under his left eye bled. “I tried to heal him, but whatever spell hit him...the Circle of Healing didn’t work.”

  Ernest held onto Brande from the right, almost oblivious to his own injuries because he still wore the bracelet. “Tough guy. He went up against all four Black Wolves.”

  “That damned vampire bit me.” Lucien scowled as he rotated his left arm. “Then he said I wasn’t his type.”

  “That was a Cruenti warlock,” Gabriel said as he sidled next to him and helped him walk. “And without his head, he’ll never bite anyone else again.”

  I felt Brande’s cheek against mine, and I grew alarmed at how cold it was. His face felt like a block of ice. What did those monsters do to him? He still breathed, but his breaths were so slow and laborious that it seemed he would stop at any moment.

  “Brande, can you hear me?” My heart sank when his eyes didn’t open. Not a single movement, not even a groan of pain. He was unresponsive and silent.

  Ernest looked at me. “I’m sorry...”

  I shook my head. “No! We need to help him.” I took a deep breath and tried not to panic. He couldn’t die...I wouldn’t let him.

  “What can we do?” Lucien asked.

  The only thing I could think of was the bracelet. It was charged with enough power and protection to at least keep Brande breathing. “I’m sorry, Ernest, I’m going to have to ask for the bracelet. It’s the only thing that’ll help him right now.”

  “Sure.” He slipped it off and slid it onto Brande’s wrist, but began shouting in pain and cursing. He refused to let Gabriel take his place, and insisted that he had endured worse as a soldier.

  My hand trembled again. I felt the ties holding back the Sublimation symbols unravel. “Let’s get out of here so I can blow this place up. Heilwig’s waiting for us in the cellars.”

  We painstakingly snaked our way through the cavernous tunnels. When I knew I couldn’t hold on any longer, I released the Sublimations, and a large explosion quaked the caves. As we neared the tunnel that would take us straight to the Ruinart cellars, I noticed a trail of blood on the floor. The amount wasn’t copious, but it still made me anxious, and I asked Gabriel to take my place while I ran ahead to find Heilwig.

  I entered the cellar and scanned the floor, following the drops of blood to a corner not too far from the stairway. Heilwig sat on the floor, breathing with his mouth open, and leaning against a rack of champagne bottles. He had placed the case across his lap, and held his hand over his left side, trying to stem the blood flow from his wound. Praskovya’s third bullet had hit him, and I cursed her, hoping that she had died in the explosion.

  “Come on, let’s cast a Circle of Healing together.” My body ached with exhaustion, and I knew I couldn’t do it alone, but if we combined our energy to cast the Circle, we could both be healed of our injuries and weakness.

  He shook his head. “It’s too late for me.”

  I knelt beside him. “My father said we needed you. I need to take you to him and, with your help, we’ll be closer to winning the war. Please, hold on.”

  “Take the formula, Isabella.”

  “Why don’t you hold on to it? You’re coming with me.” I could taste my salty tears. The more he slipped away, the more I felt I was losing my chance of finding answers and of helping my father in any significant way.

  He winced and moved his hand away from his wound. He activated a symbol in his lab coat, an upside down triangle within a circle, with a second circle and triangle within those—the symbol of Secrecy.

  “You don’t need me, Isabella, but you do need this.” He reached into his coat where he activated the Secrecy symbol, and pulled out his diary. It was the same one I saw him use at the university.

  I took his diary with trembling hands. “Please don’t die.”

  “Your father knew the risks, as well as I did. Tell him to gather the others.”

  “What others? I don’t understand.”

  “Do you think he orchestrated this all alone?” He coughed up a handful of blood.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Marcellus?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “Then tell your father...” His facial expression relaxed, and his mouth fell open as he exhaled his final breath. I placed my palm over his eyelids and shut them before slowly removing the case from his dead grasp.

  “Isabella...” Brande still had to be carried by Gabriel and Ernest, but he was at least conscious again. He looked like he wanted to rush toward me, but he could hardly move.

  I took the case and diary in my arms. I slowly approached them, trying to hide my own disappointment. “I couldn’t save him.”

  “At least you have the formula.” Lucien’s eyes were filled with pity. “You’ve just saved many lives.”

  I glanced at Dr. Heilwig one last time. “I think he would’ve wanted it that way.”

  I hoped that he was finally at peace—him and his Rosa.

  18

  After resting for a few days at Jasmine’s house in Paris, Lucien and Ernest had said their goodbyes, as their leave time had come to an end, and they needed to report back to Spain. They had also wanted to take up the task of searching for the spy-assassin named Galeno, who had shot Ernest out of the sky, and still posed a threat to our pilots running missions near the Mediterranean. Brande and Father Gabriel stayed an extra day, but they knew better than to further test the Order’s patience, and would have to leave soon. Also, Brande still suffered from the mysterious spell the Black Wolves had hit him with. Neither Father Gabriel’s nor my own Circles of Healing could help. He would need the healing of the Master Physician at the Gray Tower.

  Father Gabriel and Brande planned to leave in the afternoon, and I also prepared to leave, dreading my upcoming debriefing with Ian in London. I would feel better if I were able to return with both the formula and Dr. Heilwig, I thought of my father and whether or not he’d be disappointed with me for losing his frie
nd. For me, that would be worse than telling Ian about the particular failures of my mission.

  I wondered when my father would see me again this year, and if he had planned on letting mother and Johnnie know he was alive. Most of all, I questioned how much longer he could outrun the Order. Michel de Nostredame had tried burning his books so as to not leave a trail, and had built an admirable reputation as a prophet and healer with the Catholic Church, which, at first, made it extremely difficult for the Gray Tower to strike him down. However, when his secretary, Jean de Chavigny, went to his master’s workroom on the morning of July 2, 1566, he found Michel—the famous Nostradamus—dead in a standing position.

  Your father knew the risks, as well as I...

  Heilwig’s words burned in my mind. I recalled Master Leto Priya, and his cold disdain. How many of the other tracker-wizards were like him, scouring the earth and mercilessly hounding my father? Why were they even compelled to? Simply because a person could do damage by using his powers as a Drifter didn’t mean he would. Still, I wouldn’t deny the strong possibility of irresponsible actions or corruption as a result of having the power to lay bare the Akashic Record. After all, Octavian and his Black Wolves had sought that power for a long time, and I’d rather die fighting to keep it out of their hands than to let them have it.

  As I reflected on all this, I fondled Heilwig’s talisman ring and paced through Jasmine’s garden. The bright tulips and fresh scent of hyacinth appealed to my senses, but they did nothing to soothe the turmoil inside. I had the diary tucked under my arm, and I settled in the grass with it, crossing my legs. I was so busy tending Brande that I hadn’t the chance to sit down and delve into its pages.

  Just as I was about to open it, a shadow overcast me, and I looked up to see Brande. He stared down at me a moment, sat next to me and slid my bracelet onto my wrist. I set the diary aside and instinctively rubbed the bracelet. I would definitely have found a way to get it back if he had gone off to the Gray Tower with it.