I leaned forward and held onto a chair at a nearby desk for support. I watched in horror as blood streamed from my father’s eyes and dripped down his nose. With his entire body trembling, my dad threw every last bit of energy he had into his spells, and there was a deafening sound that reminded me of shattering glass. Zurek stumbled backward with a shout, but an invisible force held him frozen in mid-fall. His arms were extended at an awkward angle, and his head lolled to the side. He neither screamed in pain nor tried to shield himself or escape. He just floated in mid-air, frozen in a fall that would never be completed.
The deep presence of the magic that stifled my breathing started fading, and I finally felt safe enough to move toward my father. I approached him and grabbed hold of him as soon as he was within reach. He faced me, with blood still pouring from his nose and streaking down his cheeks from his eyes. Why didn’t it stop?
“Dad...what did he do to you?”
He coughed. “You knew I projected my own death. It was only a matter of time.”
He sank to his knees, and I nearly fell trying to keep him from hitting the floor. Tears filled my eyes, and ice-cold fear gripped me. “Dad, tell me how to fix this. Please...”
His bloodstained fingers lightly touched my cheek. “Forgive me for my failings. Please.”
My voice croaked with a sob. I didn’t care what he projected. He wasn’t always right--at least, this time, I wasn’t going to let him be. I gently laid him on the floor, wiping my wet cheeks with the back of my hand as his chest rattled and his breathing slowed. I tried infusing him with a rush of body magic, but it only made him gasp for air. Whatever Master Zurek hit him with--it must’ve been something terrible.
When my second attempt at body magic failed to heal him, I began to weep. I didn’t even notice when Ammon’s shadowy figure and burning red eyes materialized next to me, looking down at my father. When I saw the demon, I protectively covered my father, as if shielding him from gunfire. I swore I would destroy Ammon if he tried anything against my dad.
“Too bad you’re not a nature wizard. You could’ve healed him.” Ammon smirked.
“Is there any way I could save him?” My limbs shook, and my eyesight blurred with tears.
He knelt next to me. “Remember what I told you would happen the next time you needed my help?”
I pressed my ear against my father’s chest. “Go to hell. I said no deals.”
Ammon sniffed. “Then goodbye, Daddy. Do you think he’ll be on the other side waiting for you? And what will your mother think?”
I sat up straight and wiped the tears from my eyes. Out of desperation, I tried another healing. My father was barely breathing. “Then do me another favor...tell me how to heal him.”
“No more favors. I’ll help you save him, but only if you give me what I want.”
My father stopped breathing.
“What! What do you want?”
“I need to borrow your body for an hour.”
I began weeping again. I sent a jolt of energy straight to my dad’s heart. “I can’t...”
“Give me an hour, and I’ll give you your father. A fair trade.”
I swayed and almost fainted. “Just an hour?”
He grinned. “An hour. No more, no less.”
I slowly shook my head. “I can’t...”
“Look at him. I can smell his spirit slipping away. How do you feel about a military funeral for the old man?”
“I...”
“Aren’t you tired of saving everyone else and not being able to save your own family? Your mother and brother are prisoners of the Cruenti Master, and your father is a broken shell whose life is slipping away as we speak. Why must you sacrifice everything? And for a world full of people who either don’t care about the Drifter or would see you dead.”
“No, that’s not true.”
“I can read your thoughts. You may hide them from everyone else and pretend you’re a noble soul, but deep down inside you are tired. Remember that? You’re tired of it all.”
“I just want to save him.”
“Cast a Circadian Circle.”
I steadied my quivering hand and cast the Circle. “Wh-what now?”
“Take the energy you drained from that alchemist, and use the Circadian Circle to infuse it into your father’s heart. The curse that your father was hit with will latch onto the excess energy, and then you can dispel it from his body.”
I felt numb, but I did as he instructed. Using the raw energy I had drained from Samson, I sent forth tendrils of healing power into my father’s chest and let them permeate his body. A faint glow enveloped him, and I began draining the toxic magic from his body. I kept at it until I saw him breathing normally. With a shaking hand, I relinquished the Circadian Circle and let the tendrils extending to my father fade. I leaned down and kissed his forehead. His eyes opened half way and he tried to speak, but I shook my head.
“Don’t say anything right now. Just stay calm.”
I began reciting the words in my head, the ones I had learned as a child--There is a Blue Door in front of you...I supposed the Blue Door ended up being useful after all. I would rather step through and end this than let Ammon have me for even a second. When the blue doorway materialized across from me, with its gold handle just as I remembered, I rushed toward it and threw it open. Blackness and a screeching wind greeted me.
“No, Isabella. Not today!”
I tried throwing myself into the dark hole within the doorway, but Ammon’s obsidian arms grabbed me by the waist. I kicked and struggled, and even called down a Circadian Circle on us. Ammon began cursing, and suddenly the entire world spun around me. There was a whoosh of magic, spinning colors flying around--and finally, darkness.
64
I flew over cities. I passed through the cool night air over rolling hills, forests, and open roads. Just ahead I saw a castle, and I slowed and landed on my feet. Where was I? What was I doing here? Without my permission, a chuckle escaped my throat. It almost sounded guttural. I drew in a deep breath, drinking the scent of the earthy air. I slid my feet across slick blades of grass, wet from the evening dew. When I stepped onto the cold pavement and approached the castle, someone shined a bright light on me. I slowed my pace and shielded my eyes.
“Halt right there,” a voice said on a loud hailer in German. Two SS officers approached me with weapons drawn. The third, still sitting in the convertible jeep with the loud hailer, adjusted the bright light.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” The SS officer on the right lowered his gun.
“I’m just here to pick something up,” I heard my voice say in German without my consent. “Now get out of my way.”
The two SS officers aimed their guns at me. With a wave of my hand, their guns tilted at a ninety-degree angle, and their shots fired into the sky. I cast a Circadian Circle over them, and they screeched until they choked on their own blood. When the other officers saw the ghastly scene, they began firing on me. I threw up a protective shield, layering up to four Circadian Circles over me.
When they saw that I had not a single scratch or wound on me, they ceased fire and stared in astonishment. I called forth Zaman’s Fire and enveloped myself in its flames. I extended my hand and flicked my wrist, sending the trekker flying into the air in a burst of flames. I made a precise slashing motion with my left hand, and the scrambling SS officers lit up like torches.
I laughed again, and licked my lips at the scent of burning flesh wafting toward me. No, I wouldn’t do that. Why couldn’t I speak up or stop? This wasn’t me.
I approached the gated entrance to the castle and used my alchemical abilities to manipulate the iron. The gate groaned and folded until a perfect hole was formed. I stepped through and walked into the courtyard. I heard boots crashing against cobblestone and saw the dark forms of more SS officers readying their weapons. Points of light flashed down on me, as they foolishly commanded me to surrender.
Using the four Circadian Circl
es as stepping-stones, I rose into the air. They fired on me just as sparks and crackles filled the courtyard. When the crackling flames grew and became balls of fire, I smashed them against the SS officers, knocking their bodies into walls, pushing them backward, or roasting them to a crisp where they stood. I heard one of the SS officers yelling either into a telephone or radio receiver. He kept screaming that Nuremberg Castle was under attack by a powerful wizard.
Some of the SS officers began to wise up and either ran for cover or dropped their weapons. I turned and glanced around, eyeing the three towers of the castle: Sinwell, Luginsland, and Heathen. I smirked. I would’ve wagered that Hitler had placed the items in Heathen Tower.
“Get her!” I heard an officer command.
Four Black Wolves swooped in and surrounded me. They moved fluidly, though their physical forms were ugly and clunky. These Wolves didn’t wear the standard black cloaks with the silver hoods--they were naked. They were complete and utter beasts, monsters devoid of every drop of their former humanity. One of the wolves was a lumbering mess of fur with a flat face and short snout. It reminded me of a sloth. The other two looked like hairless jaguars, and the fourth Black Wolf was humanoid in form, except it had an unnaturally large head and glowing yellow eyes.
The jaguars attacked first, darting toward me with deadly speed. I reached inside, started my pulsations, and froze them in time just as they leapt for my throat. I reached out with my senses, commanding the iron from the gates to meld into a ball. I sent a blast of air to push the iron ball my way, and it flew through the air toward the jaguars. It hit them with a crash, knocking their heads right off. A spray of blood and skull fragments flew across the courtyard, and the corrosive black substance left by the iron began eating away at their torsos.
I felt a rift open up nearby in the air, but I ignored it. I let go of my pulsations, and time returned to normal. When the remaining two Black Wolves saw what had happened to the jaguars, they took a step back. I spoke to them in a grating voice, in their language. “Stupid beasts...go and eat those soldiers. Keep my path clear, or you’ll end up like these two.”
The sloth-like Wolf and the humanoid one with the yellow eyes shrank away. They began turning on the SS officers. Those who weren’t able to shoot and run were overcome and devoured by the Black Wolves.
I sighed and rotated my shoulders. I approached Heathen Tower and tore the door off its hinges. I slipped inside and saw seven more Black Wolves, but instead of attacking, they remained still. Their eyes, varying in shape and color, glowed with recognition. They let me pass. I continued down the dim hall, past the Medieval tapestries hanging on the wall and ancient armor on display. I climbed the stone steps leading to the top of the tower. My nose wrinkled at the musty air surrounding me. Another hallway, shorter than the first, led to a warded door at the end. I slowed my pace because of the two Cruenti warlocks stationed at the warded door. They immediately recognized who and what I was.
They both eyed each other nervously after reaching out with their senses and gauging my strength. I hissed. “You must’ve heard the commotion outside. Are you going to open the door for me, or will you bags of bones make things more difficult than they have to be?”
The Cruenti on the left, a tall muscular man with short blond hair, lowered the ward on the door and unlocked it for me. He kept his gaze on me as if expecting an attack at any moment. The Cruenti on the right sank down on his knee, his long dark hair spilling forth, and grasped my hand. He pressed a reverent kiss into the palm of my hand, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. I used my other hand to push his hair behind his ear and noticed a tattoo on the side of his neck. It was an infinity symbol painted in black.
“So...it’s true.” I slid my hand from his grasp. “Tell Octavian I’ll be paying him a visit soon.”
I opened the door and stepped inside. The room was small and narrow, but it teemed with magical energy. Dust and the scent of strong alchemical herbs hit my nose as I switched on the light. My gaze swept across the artifacts and relics in the room. Mirrors covered with velvet sheets stood on a table in the corner. Amulets and daggers were mounted on the wall along with the Spear of Destiny. And then, there was the Grand Grimoire.
The book stood on a marble lectern to my left. I approached and reached out with my hand, tracing the engraved symbols on the front of the spell book. I opened it and flipped through its pages, ripping out a few and stuffing them into my pockets. When I finally came upon the page with the name AMMON in large black letters, I tore the page from the book and held a flaming finger to the bottom of the text. A burst of fire erupted through the page, and my lips curved into a smile.
When the page had blackened and curled, leaving only ashes, I wiped my hands and turned toward the exit. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, the Cruenti with the long dark hair dropped to his knee again. The blond one wore a confused look, but he decided to kneel as well. He probably thought I’d kill him if he didn’t. He was right.
“What time is it?” My voice was gravelly, and no matter how much I tried to scream or regain control, I felt like I was fighting a tidal wave without anything to grab onto.
“It’s half past seven.”
“My hour’s almost up,” I said in a low voice. I turned and faced the muscular blond Cruenti. “You don’t wear the mark like he does. Why?”
He looked up, but not directly into my eyes. “There hasn’t been a Drifter in a hundred years. I thought Octavian--”
“God, you’re boring me. Make sure the rest of that Grimoire is taken back to the Den. Hmm?”
“We will,” their voices chimed in unison.
The flames of Zaman’s Fire enveloped me like a halo of blazing light. I went over to the nearest window in the tower and looked down at the courtyard below. The few SS officers remaining had finally managed to kill the two Black Wolves that had turned on them. They pushed the Wolves’ bodies into the middle of the courtyard and began dousing them with gasoline. Some of them even had the audacity to start praying.
I clenched my fist. I was ready to bring the sky down upon the men, answering their supplications with fire and blood. But, I remembered that my hour was almost over. I pressed my hand to the glass window, and it shattered. I jumped up and stepped over the ledge, rising into the air, my flames still surrounding me. The cool night breeze became hard cold whips of wind as I sped through the sky. Once again I was flying through the air, over hills, roads, and mountains. Somewhere amidst the starlight, my vision grew dim, and I slipped into a deep sleep.
65
I opened my eyes with a wince. I felt like a truck had smashed into me. It took a few glances around the bedroom to recognize it--I was in my guestroom at the embassy. I shuddered as I sat up and fumbled for the lamp near the bed. When I turned on the light, I groaned at the sight of Ammon standing in the corner across from me. My tongue clung to the roof of my mouth and my stomach rumbled with hunger. I rubbed my eyes and took in the view: he was back in human form as the same ugly angular-jawed man, but this time he wore no signs of the injuries I had dealt him.
“It’s eight o’clock. My hour’s over, and you’re safe in bed. We make a wonderful team, Isabella.”
I cringed. “Everything that happened at Nuremberg Castle...it wasn’t some crazy dream?”
He shrugged. “I had an errand to run. Sorry I forgot to mention that it was in Germany.”
My head swam. “But...wait...we were at the police station in the afternoon. You had me for more than an hour.”
He raised a finger. “Technically, it was an hour. When you tried to throw yourself through that doorway, I naturally had to stop you. You were unconscious when I pulled you away, and your father was still weak. Master Moreau caught up to you and brought you both back to the mansion. I took you out about an hour ago, as per our agreement.”
“I didn’t agree to anything.”
He rolled his eyes. “I told you how to save your father, and you listened. You did it. Don’t preten
d otherwise.”
Part of me knew I had made a mistake, but another part of me knew that I would do anything to save my dad’s life. “Nuremberg is almost seven hours away.”
“I had to slow down time at certain points in order to fit my errand into the hour. I hope you don’t mind.” He grinned.
I ran my hand through my hair. “Are you insane? Wait, of course you are. I can’t believe this. Slowing time like that opens rifts!”
“But you’ve got to admit--it was exhilarating killing all those people.”
“I wouldn’t call it exhilarating.”
“Hey, they were all Nazis. Didn’t you kill innocent people with your powers when the Gray Tower was attacked?”
My jaw went slack. “It was an accident. I tried to hit Octavian.”
“If you think about it, I’m actually more ethical than you are.”
I shook my head. “Don’t give me that. You’re far from it. You opened time rifts, and that’s going to harm innocent people. It’s my fault...my responsibility.”
“You’re the Drifter. I told you a long time ago that you were an instrument of punishment. Did you see how much power you wielded against your enemies? We can leave this very moment and destroy the Den. We can rescue all those captives, including your family.”
“You don’t care about those captives or my family.” I didn’t like how every time I thought I had shut him out, I only found myself even more entangled. I didn’t like the manipulation and I certainly didn’t like the hour he had spent controlling me. He was destroying everything I had tried to build. I didn’t want the world to see me as a monster or a punishment.
There was a knock on my door, and my heart began racing. I glanced at the corner and Ammon was gone. I went over and slowly opened the door, giving a tentative smile when I saw Brande standing there.
The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3 Page 79
