The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “Thank you.” He gripped my arm and stood with me. His body trembled.

  “Take it easy. I’ll ask Master Ovidio to help you.” I motioned for him to stay while I climbed out of the pit.

  The Vatican and Tower wizards had beaten back much of Octavian’s forces, and soon they would have control of the throne room. The warlocks tried standing their ground so they wouldn’t be pushed out of the room and through the main door, but our wizards formed an unbroken line and strategically launched spells against the enemies. I saw Neal and Mehara among them, as well as Father Gabriel and Praskovya. In that moment I felt a surge of energy rush through me--we were finally getting the upper hand.

  I glanced around, wondering what had happened to Master Ovidio and his water sphere which had been drowning Octavian. I expected to find the Cruenti Master floating in the ball of water, unmoving and unblinking. When I finally spotted Octavian, my heart froze in my chest. He had managed to free himself from the sphere and held Master Ovidio in his grasp with a single hand. The more Octavian clenched his teeth, the more his fingers dug into Master Ovidio’s neck. He lifted the wizard so that his feet dangled off the floor, and when Octavian saw me rushing toward them, he lit up Master Ovidio with the eerie blue flame.

  “Octavian!” My voice cracked.

  I watched with anger as Master Ovidio gritted his teeth, determined not to give Octavian the satisfaction of screaming out in pain. The Master Wizard let out a gasp, and his body went limp. The blue flames did not char Master Ovidio’s skin or leave any marks, but it looked as if the life had been sucked out of him. I glared at Octavian, counting this as yet another reason to destroy him before he killed anyone else.

  “Are you ready to end this?” Octavian moved toward me. His elongated canines glistened, and his eyes gleamed with bloodlust.

  Just as I cast a Circadian Circle, Nikon Praskovya ran to my side and began firing shots at Octavian. “Praskovya, wait!”

  He deflected the bullets with his telekinetic powers and sent her flying backward across the throne room. I struck out at him with three separate tendrils of energy to disrupt his magical aura. Instead of his aura being a bright color like the others I had seen, it had a weak glow and a muddy hue. His knees weakened in response to the strikes, and, with a roar, he sped toward me. I slowed him using the force of the Circadian Circle, and when he was within reach, I extended my hand and pressed my palm against his chest, sending a burst of Zaman’s Fire right toward his heart.

  He let out a yell and fell back, exuding an icy mist from his pores and regenerating from the wound. I pushed forward with more Fire, throwing another burst of energy into it so that he’d have no chance to regenerate from the next hit. With a frustrated growl, Octavian sank into the floor in a dark mist and disappeared.

  Mehara rushed forward and placed her hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded. “Mehara, I--”

  “I just read your mind. I know what happened with Moreau.” She squeezed my shoulder.

  I glanced over to my right and saw Master Edom with his arms cradling the woman, Thalia. She trembled and wept. Neal and Father Gabriel cornered the last Black Wolf from the pit. Neal spoke a Word, and just like my father did to Lyov, the Wolf’s skin became like stone. Father Gabriel made a strike with his blade and decapitated the monster.

  The wizards had finally forced the warlocks from the throne room, and some even followed the Master Alchemist, Cathana Erin, in order to continue the chase. Others stayed behind to help the wounded.

  I called out to Master Edom. “Can you lead part of this group back down to the courtyard and the pool? I have three wizards already down there, preparing the spells for the reverse teleportation.”

  He nodded and whispered something to Thalia. “I’ll make sure they get down there.”

  “I’ll help.” Mehara offered her arm to Thierry, who looked like he was ready to collapse.

  I motioned toward Neal and Father Gabriel. “I’m going down to the Sanctuary. That’s where Octavian is.”

  “How do you know?” Neal glanced at Master Ovidio’s lifeless body, and his eyes gave off a flash of anger.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it, but that’s where I feel he’s pulling me.”

  I nodded over to Praskovya when I saw her limping toward us. “Praskovya, are you okay?”

  She hissed when she brushed her fingers across the bruise on her forehead. “I’ll go down with you to the Sanctuary.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Let’s do it, before I change my mind.”

  She headed toward the main door, and Neal followed. Father Gabriel fell into step with me as we left the throne room. “Where were you?”

  “Moreau betrayed us. I’ll tell you all about it if we survive.”

  “Has Ammon appeared to you again?” His expression was calm, but his voice carried a hint of anxiety.

  I slowly nodded, raising my hand in greeting to a few of our wizards who stood in the hallway as lookouts. “Yes. He’s here, and I’m afraid of what he’s going to do next. Please tell me you’ve found something about destroying him or forcing him out of our world.”

  Gabriel furrowed his dark brows. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his little black notebook. “I have something here...but we may be missing a component.”

  I frowned. “Wonderful.”

  We followed Praskovya and Neal to the storage area. Since the elevator was still disabled, we would have to crawl through the air duct, the same way I had done when going for the throne room. Father Gabriel pointed to a few lines in his book. “Look at this spell. It’s called Tenentur. Some sources have identified it as an old religious prayer.”

  I grabbed the book and read the entry. I remembered it as one of the odd spells listed, along with the names, dates, and circumstances of Ammon’s former victims. “It says that we have to drain him and use this invocation against him.”

  Gabriel nodded. We walked into the storage room and watched Neal and Praskovya remove the iron grate. “But he’s not made of flesh--he is pure energy, so how can you drain him? It doesn’t make any sense. I’m not even sure if we could use this.”

  I gasped when I remembered the day Ammon had me use the energy I had drained from the alchemist, Samson Grom. My Circadian Circles not only affected physical bodies, but magical auras and magical energy as well. If I could steal and reshape pure magical energy, then maybe I could do that against Ammon.

  “Father, I think I know a way to hold Ammon in place long enough, while draining him so you can say the Tenentur spell.”

  Neal gave Praskovya a boost into the air duct. He motioned toward Gabriel and me. “Let’s go, quickly. There’ll be more warlocks in the lower area.”

  Gabriel faced me. “I’ll be by your side. Don’t be afraid.”

  I gazed into his eyes. “Thanks, but I reserve the right to be afraid.”

  I began explaining my plan to him as we crawled into the air duct, readying our magic, and preparing our minds.

  73

  We came out of the air duct and into the lower level corridor. The rounding hallway was wide, and there were doorways leading to more rooms and storage areas like the floor above. However, this area felt different. I could smell and taste the sickening taint of dark magic and death. Neal and Praskovya coughed in response to the lingering scents, and Father Gabriel grimaced and made the sign of the Cross.

  I saw a few wizards from our side rush toward us with weapons drawn. They heaved with exhaustion, and their bodies bore bruises and wounds. I explained to them that the other wizards were securing the upper level, and that they had even started working on the reverse teleportation.

  A young woman with short brown hair stepped forward. She pointed down the hallway. “Be careful. There are still some warlocks and Wolves running loose down here. We’re trying to weed them out. Brande and Master Ekwueme are in the detention area with the captives.”

  I let out a grateful br
eath. “Thank you.”

  My companions and I ran down the hallway. The air was thick with magic, and I could hear the roar of Black Wolves reverberate off the walls. I felt the taint of dark magic whooshing and straining against wizards. My chest tightened when I saw several bodies--Tower wizards and my borrowed Vatican army--strewn along the floor. Some had fallen prey to dark magic, and the teeth and claws of Black Wolves had torn others up.

  Praskovya clenched her teeth, but she said nothing. We approached the detention area. The entire corridor went dark for a few seconds before the lights flickered back on. A Cruenti warlock stood just ahead of us, in front of the steel door leading into the detention area. Dead bodies surrounded him. As soon as the warlock spotted us, he opened his hands and unleashed a curse. The black smoke flew at us like a swarm of insects. Praskovya erected a shield, and I called down a sheet of Zaman’s Fire onto him, charring him before he could even scream.

  Neal urged us forward. “Go ahead, I’ll meet you in the detention area.”

  “What are you talking about?” I eyed Neal as he turned in the opposite direction. I heard the padding of feet and the familiar snarls of a pack of Black Wolves.

  “Go. Find Octavian, and finish this.” Neal spoke a Word, and a protective shield enveloped him.

  “Neal--”

  “Hurry. I’ll take care of the Black Wolves.”

  Praskovya pulled me along, and Father Gabriel opened the steel door. I gazed at Neal. He spoke a string of Words, and the Wolves at the other end of the corridor howled and rolled across the floor. I was about to tell Neal to be careful, but Praskovya pulled me through and brought me into the detention area. Gabriel closed the door behind us. The room was well lit and several beds lined the walls. It reminded me of a large hospital room.

  I spotted Brande kneeling next to my brother, Johnnie, bandaging a gash in his leg. My mother sat next to Rachel with a blank stare. It almost caught me by surprise, because I half-expected my mom to be hysterical. A few other captives, both wizards and non-wizards, sat on the beds that lined the wall. They looked ill--or drugged. Master Ekwueme was going from one to another, reading them and checking the state of their bodies and minds.

  When my sister-in-law, Rachel, lifted her gaze and saw me, her lower lip quivered and she gasped. She stood and paused, watching me as if I were some kind of illusion. When she saw me rush toward her, she opened her arms and met me in an embrace, sobbing with relief.

  “I thought you were gone,” she said, squeezing me. “They kept telling us all these terrible things...and I didn’t know what to believe.”

  Tears stung my eyes as I felt how thin and frail she was beneath her clothing. It made the anger within me burn. She was supposed to be plump and expecting a baby--not looking like a walking skeleton. “I’m here. We’re taking you home.”

  My brother stood and threw his arm around me. His voice cracked when he spoke. “Izzy...they did something to Mom.”

  I stepped toward my mother, who still sat on the bed with her vacant stare. I bent over and held my hand to her cheek. A dribble of saliva ran down the corner of her mouth and to her chin. “Mom?”

  Brande approached and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Isabella...her mind was purged.”

  I turned and threw my arms around my mom. When she didn’t move or respond, my eyes began burning with tears. “You mean her mind is blank?”

  I remembered Lyov Praskovya’s warning that Octavian would invade their minds to try and find out everything he could about me. It looked like my mother had gotten the worst of it. She had wanted to protect me from the dangers I encountered; all she wanted was for me to be home with her. Now, I couldn’t even tell her I was sorry and that I appreciated her love and concern. She was just a shell. I cursed at Octavian in my mind, especially when I felt his presence somewhere down below us in the Sanctuary. I could almost hear his mocking laughter in my mind.

  “We don’t know the extent of the damage.” Brande pulled me into an embrace. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as Octavian’s going to be.” My voice was laced with rage.

  Father Gabriel faced Rachel. “Are you hurt?”

  She instinctively rubbed her round belly. “They...held us here for the first two days without saying anything. I think it was to make us more frightened. Then they started asking us questions about Isabella and Carson. And that’s when he came and...” She glanced at my mother and shook her head.

  Johnnie groaned over the pain in his injured leg. He sat back down. “Today was the day I was supposed to be next. When they came in here to grab me and take me up there, I fought like hell.”

  I gave him a nod of approval. “So that’s how you got that gash in your leg. I wish we had come sooner.”

  “And there’s one more thing.” Johnnie shifted on the bed. “There’s a young woman, with dark hair and green eyes--”

  My heart leapt into my throat. “Bianca? Where is she?” I had been so preoccupied that I hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t here in the detention area with the others.

  Rachel answered in a quivering voice, pointing toward a warded door across from us. “They took her. I think that’s what they’ve been calling the Sanctuary.”

  My chest clenched, and I felt an oncoming headache. “I need to get down there.”

  Ekwueme approached us. “I’ll go with you.”

  “So will I,” Gabriel affirmed.

  I turned to Praskovya. “I know you really want to go after Lyov...but can you lead my family and these other captives up to the inner courtyard?”

  I thought she’d glare at me and tell me nothing was going to turn her away. Instead, Praskovya nodded. “I can do that.”

  Neal came through the doorway. “The way is clear. We can move everyone.” He approached, and his expression fell when he saw my family.

  “Neal?” Rachel stood and stared at him in astonishment. She began weeping. During the short time Neal had spent with my family, they had actually grown to like him.

  He came over and pulled her into a hug. “You’re going home.”

  Johnnie limped over to my mother and gently pulled her to her feet. My mom didn’t speak, or cry, or recognize her son. She was gone.

  Praskovya held out her hand to Rachel. “I’ll take you to the courtyard.”

  Rachel turned and whispered goodbye to us. The other captives let grateful sighs escape their lips. They followed Praskovya and my family through the doorway, the stronger ones guiding or even carrying the weaker ones. When they all left, Brande took my hand in his.

  “What happened at the embassy?”

  I frowned. “Moreau wasn’t the friend we thought he was. He tried to keep me behind.”

  “I thought something like that might’ve happened. I knew you wouldn’t have stayed behind unless something was preventing you.”

  Neal went over to the warded door that led to the Sanctuary. He raised his hand, sending a tendril of energy toward it. “The group broke into factions when they discovered you weren’t with us. You’re fortunate to have Brande; he kept most of them together and on task.”

  I wrapped my arms around Brande’s neck and stood on the tips of my toes. I planted a kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

  “We have a problem,” Neal said, sending yet another tendril of energy toward the door.

  We all flinched when we heard a familiar, monstrous roar coming from below, in the Sanctuary. I wanted to groan. “Don’t tell me Lyov has the Black Dragon down there.”

  “Well,” Neal said, “let’s make that two problems. The Black Dragon has been flying throughout the compound, attacking both wizards and warlocks--so I’d advise you to try not to reason with it. Our second problem is this door.”

  Ekwueme approached and observed the warded door. It throbbed with energy and lacked any kind of knob or handle. I reached out to it with my senses and immediately recoiled at the dark magic.

  “It’s warded with Blood Magic,” Ekwueme said. “It requires blood in order
to pass through.”

  I shuddered. “I’m not touching that thing with my blood.”

  Father Gabriel stepped forward. “Will it accept anyone’s blood?”

  Praskovya walked into the room, shaking her head. “Don’t do it, priest. It will only accept the blood of a member of the coven.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “That trip to the courtyard and back was a little quick, wasn’t it?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Master Erin and Samson Grom met me halfway and took the captives off my hands.”

  She took out a knife and made a flick on her thumb. Blood swelled from the wound and she pressed it into the circular engraving in the center of the door. It pulsated in response to her blood, and the lights in the room flickered. The door opened, revealing a dark stairway that spiraled downward. I let out a low breath as I cast a Circadian Circle and fortified my protective shield. Brande, Neal, Gabriel, and Ekwueme cast shields over themselves as well.

  I faced Praskovya. “So...what’s down there?”

  “Death. Are you ready?”

  I didn’t have a choice. I had to be.

  74

  I spoke to Father Gabriel in a low voice as we headed down the winding dark staircase. “So far we haven’t run into You-Know-Who. Do you think he’s gone?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll stay by your side. As soon as the demon shows, we’ll attack with the Tenentur spell, as planned.”

  We reached the foot of the staircase, and the area opened out into a large antechamber. I expected it to look dark and grimy, like a dungeon. Instead, the antechamber was bright and had a pristine white tile floor. Marble columns lined the walls on each side, leading to another antechamber on both the right and left sides. An inscription shone on the front side of what looked to be an altar, just ahead. My insides tightened when I saw my friend Bianca lying on the altar, bound and unconscious. They had placed a blindfold over her eyes. Lyov stood behind the granite altar, staring at us with calculating eyes. I glanced at the large black hole in the ceiling above him, and, for some reason, it filled me with dread.