The Tower's Alchemist (The Gray Tower Trilogy, #1)
Page 22
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I dreamed about my father. I’d had this dream countless times before. It always started with an odd fire that surrounded me, but never consumed me. I would be cowering in a small place, probably the tool shed from our backyard. I would scream for help, and as soon as my father opened the door, the flames would disappear and I would feel safe. Then, for some reason, my father would also disappear and leave me all alone.
I was always my eight-year-old self in this dream, I knew that I saw things from the perspective of a child and couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening. I had gone through several books trying to find interpretations, but nothing ever made sense. I awoke with a start and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I slipped out of bed and went to bathe. Afterward, I wrapped myself in a robe Jasmine lent me and wondered what to do next. I glanced at the clock—it was 4 a.m., and it seemed everyone but me enjoyed a peaceful rest.
I went downstairs to the kitchen and found the last of the Château chilling in the icebox. I grabbed a glass from the china cabinet, made my way to the little breakfast nook in the back, and poured my wine. I could go from eating fine cuisines in one week to supping on porridge the next, but I figured I might as well enjoy a fine wine while I could.
After I downed a couple of glasses, I decided to use the phone to call home, well...my brother’s home. My mother sold the house in Baltimore and moved up to Cambridge with Jonathan and his wife two years ago. I fumbled a bit before finally steadying the receiver in my hand and getting a ring. I patiently waited until I heard my brother’s sleepy voice on the other end.
“Hello?”
“Jonathan...it’s me.”
“Izzy?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“The ambassador has me in France for a while. How are you?” My family didn’t know that SOE had recruited me. They still believed I was a hard-working clerk in the office of the U.S. ambassador to England.
“It’s nice of you to call, but you do know that it’s almost 11 o’clock at night here?”
“Sorry, I forgot.”
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“I just wanted to talk to you.”
“How did you get through without an operator?”
“I put a spell on the phone.”
“Really? You ought to come visit Harvard one day.”
“No, I’m not going to guest lecture in one of your stuffy classes.” I laughed.
“I’ve got to find some way to get my worldly little sister out here.”
“Believe it or not, I’d like to visit soon. How’s your wife?”
“Rachel is fine. She’s asleep.”
“I can’t wait to meet her, Johnnie.”
“If you call back during the day, I’ll be sure to put mother on the phone.”
“I’ll try, but don’t say anything to her. I don’t want her to be disappointed if I can’t call back.”
“I understand. Are you working with the Gray Tower too?”
“I’m a little busy, but I’ll get around to my studies again. Listen...I should go, Johnnie.”
“Goodnight, and I want to see you soon. I miss you.”
“Goodnight.” I hung up the phone and quickly stifled a sob with the back of my hand. I glanced around to see if any food had been left out, since the wine was getting to my head. To my surprise, Brande walked in, but I didn’t want him to see me like this, so I lowered my head and poured another glass—yes, I knew, brilliant.
“What are you doing up this late?” I pretended to sip my wine. I knew that if I drank anymore that I’d make myself sick.
“To you, it may be late, but to me it’s early.” He leaned over with his muscular frame and took the bottle away, setting it on the counter. He came and sat in the chair across from me.
“So...you’re talking to me now.”
“Did I ever stop?”
“Did the Gray Tower call and tell you to come downstairs to see what I was up to?”
His jaw slackened. “Jasmine asked me to find you. Penn is here.”
“Does he have the information I need?”
“I think so.”
“And you and Father Gabriel are coming?”
“Yes.” He looked a little perturbed.
“I’ll go get dressed then.” I rose from my seat. As I walked past, he grabbed my hand. I shuddered when I felt a warm tingling sensation.
“It’s...so you won’t get sick.” He released my hand.
I reached for the cut above his brow. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“No, I insist.” I lightly touched the scar and reciprocated the spell he performed on me. I could also detect the pain in his arm where Marc’s dagger grazed him. It would probably take a few more rounds of healing to set it right.
It wasn’t uncommon for wizards like us who dealt with mentally strenuous disciplines to choose a secondary form of magic like body magic. It allowed us to restore ourselves and provide another outlet for our powers. However, not many went the route of elemental magic. The only other person who I respected as a brilliant elemental was Kostek Ovidio, the Head of the Order of Wizards.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
As I turned and headed upstairs, I rubbed the part of my hand where Brande had touched me. I thought about how it made me feel. It amazed me how complementary an alchemist and an elemental could be. He understood how to use and control the natural elements of earth, water, fire and air, and I understood how to use and control the properties of natural elements found in the earth. I could always sense when his magic was at work, and I was certain he felt mine. It made me wonder if we ever united and unleashed our full powers on a foe, what kind of a magical storm it would be.
But no, I don’t think we’d be a storm...we would be fire.