The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  Marc spoke to the Black Wolf with a grating voice in a language I didn’t understand. He must’ve given it a command, because the Black Wolf backed away and then flew up into the air and left us. While Marc had been speaking to the Wolf, I had gathered every last ounce of my remaining energy to attempt another spell on him.

  I acted and went for his heart again, but with a roar he repelled me once more and threw me to the ground. I landed hard and had my breath knocked out of me, but it didn’t stop me from grabbing handfuls of his hair and diverting his teeth away from my neck. I punched him as hard as I could.

  The earth beneath us suddenly quaked, and the ground exploded. I felt a tingling sensation in my toes that rose up my legs, then my back, and all the way up to the top of my head. The air changed; it smelled different, and for a moment it grew dense at my fingertips. I only reacted that way when an elemental wizard did magic.

  “Brande...”

  Everything seemed to unfold in slow motion. Marc turned and caused sparks to dance in the air until they merged and formed flames around Brande. The fire came crashing down on him, but he only absorbed the flames and sent them flying right back toward Marc. He shielded himself from Brande’s reciprocal spell, but I had already created a Circle of Healing with my silver knife and welcomed the fire.

  All around me I could see the bright white flames encircling me, and the roar of the curative blaze raged in my ears as it drowned out the sounds of battle. My full strength returned, and my physical injuries were healed. When my restoration was complete, the Circle of Healing subsided and disappeared.

  Marc pulled out two searing red daggers. He hurled them toward Brande, and as the daggers went flying, Marc also forced a nearby tree to come plummeting down onto him. One dagger missed, but the other had grazed Brande’s arm. He barely kept the tree from crushing him by commanding the soil to rise and form a barrier. Marc swung around and came toward me, but I activated an Air symbol and sent him flying back with a gust of wind. He rose to his feet and lurched backward when a man with a silver sword came from the same direction Brande had—and nearly decapitated Marc.

  I immediately rejoined the fight, rushing toward Marc. He still fought with the swordsman, and I positioned myself to strike at him. He quickly backed away from both of us, knowing good and well that if he tried to block my strikes, that he would be vulnerable to the swordsman.

  “Leave us, sorcerer!” The swordsman made a sweeping arc with his sword and diverted a spell of blindness that Marc sent whirling toward us.

  Marc grunted with frustration when he saw he was at a disadvantage. He retreated, evaporating into a black mist and leaving an ominous air about us. I turned toward the swordsman, and our gazes met. I noticed for the first time that he wore a Roman collar.

  “Gabriel di Crocifissa, at your service.” He inclined his head and sheathed his sword. With a single gesture, he quenched the remaining flames that began burning the surrounding foliage.

  I tentatively shook his hand. “I...don’t think I’ve ever seen a sword-wielding priest.”

  “Gabriel is not your typical priest.” Brande approached, slightly hunched and moving as if he ached all over. He had a cut above his left eyebrow and he slowly flexed his left arm where the dagger grazed him. He would’ve lost that arm if the weapon went straight in. Even though he used body magic to close the wound, it still caused him pain.

  “I thought you were back at the Gray Tower.” I wrapped my arms around his neck since it seemed to be the only body part that didn’t hurt. I gave him a hug. Standing on the tips of my toes because of his height.

  “I was south of here in the Provence region. I told you it would be more difficult to make it back to the Gray Tower.”

  “Well, I’m glad you were still in France. I didn’t know how much longer I was going to last.”

  “What were you doing here?”

  “I destroyed those weapons that the alchemist Veit Heilwig had made, but the factory was a dead end, and I can’t find the laboratory he’s in. And Brande, the Nazis were forcing him to make those weapons. Why didn’t anyone ever tell me Veit had trained at the Gray Tower?”

  “Brande! This way!” Gabriel ran ahead and flagged down an approaching car. I could tell by his excitement that he recognized the driver.

  “Where did you find him?” I asked, walking side by side with Brande toward the car. I gazed into his clear gray eyes, and wiped some dust and dirt from his dark hair.

  “I ran into him in Salon-de-Provence. He had disguised and embedded himself among Mussolini’s men. He’s coming to the Gray Tower as an emissary from the Vatican.”

  We greeted the young woman in the car and got in. Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, exchanging a few words with her and introducing us as the car pulled off. “Brande, this is Adelaide, an SOE agent. Her father is a dear friend of mine.”

  Brande said hello once more before letting out a sigh and slouching in the backseat.

  “I’m Noelle, I’m also SOE.” We exchanged smiles.

  “Pleased to meet you. When I heard Mathieu Perrine’s broadcast tonight, I came out patrolling the area. I’ve never seen so many SOE agents and Maquisards on the move.”

  “Tonight turned out to be an important night,” Gabriel said as he turned toward me. “I hear you’ve brought down another factory.”

  “With plenty of help.” I smiled at Brande. He had fallen asleep.

  “Where do you need me to take you all?” Adelaide asked.

  “I need to go back to Paris—to Renée Apolline’s house.” I would be wasting my time going back to find Ken. Knowing him, he’d already be headed to Renée’s in hopes of meeting me there. We had agreed to always regroup at our last safe house if we ever got split up.

  “I will go with you, then.” Gabriel’s gaze met mine in silent affirmation of his intent to stay with us.

  I began to wonder why.

  13

  Adelaide hung on Father Gabriel’s every word as he recounted how he had managed to disguise himself as an Italian soldier and avoid getting shot in the head by the army. She kept her eyes on him the entire time—which wasn’t good since she was still driving.

  “Are you a spy for the Vatican?” I leaned forward and stared at him from the backseat.

  I found him intriguing, but at the same time I was wary of him. The Gray Tower and the Church had a long history together, dating back to the Middle Ages. Sometimes they got along well, like old drinking buddies, and then at other times, they’d break out into a brawl. The Gray Tower exposed a few spies from the Church in the past, so I didn’t think my question was far-fetched. I surmised that the only reason the Masters would allow Father Gabriel to step foot on Tower grounds was because he possessed magical abilities and would be an interesting riddle to solve. Who trained him? Why? And were there more like him?

  “I’m here to offer spiritual comfort to the Maquisards. I also intend to help strengthen the relationship between the Vatican and the Gray Tower.” He smiled at me from the passenger seat.

  “So you don’t consider yourself a wizard?” I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I could barely adjust the look of curiosity I wore.

  “I tend to view ‘wizard’ as a term used for those trained by the Gray Tower. Since I am not trained by the Order, I refrain from using that term.”

  “Who trained you?”

  “My abilities are a gift from God.”

  Brande stirred and lightly touched my cheek. “Have you rested?”

  “No, I’m not tired. The Circle of Healing helped.”

  “Good. Where are we headed?” His hand dropped, and he yawned and sat up.

  I glanced at Gabriel as he once again engaged Adelaide in conversation. “I’m going to Renée Apolline’s house. Your priest friend wants to come too.”

  Brande sighed. “I promised him that I’d escort him to the Gray Tower, so it seems I must follow.”

  As we neared the winding road that would take us up to Renée’s house, th
e thought of my father’s note came to mind. I wasn’t sure if Brande knew anything about my father, or if he had ever heard anything from other wizards. Though Brande and I were the same age, he had trained in the Gray Tower before me. In fact, when I had accepted my invitation to train with the Order, Brande was one of my first instructors.

  The only thing that really bothered me was that if you didn’t fit into one of their pre-determined categories, they would ask you to leave with the status of a lowly Practitioner. It always irritated me how the Order had its designs for everyone’s duties...for everyone’s lives. Brande might have been fine with letting them groom him to one day replace Ovidio, the Head of the Order, or even one of the Master Council Wizards whom we called “The Three,” but I had different plans for my life.

  “Can I ask you something?” I slid closer to Brande and lowered my voice. Adelaide and Father Gabriel still spoke with one another.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s about my father. Did you ever hear anything about him?”

  “Only that he was highly esteemed...one of our best Elite Wizards. He was a Philosopher.”

  “Anything else?”

  I placed my hand over his, feeling for any signs of nervousness or deception. He stiffened a little, but then slowly turned his wrist and caressed the back of my hand with his thumb. He paused when he realized what I was doing.

  “Don’t do that.” He withdrew his hand. It was terribly difficult to work body magic on a wizard already adept at it.

  “There’s something else, isn’t there?” I peered into his eyes.

  “I don’t think...”

  “I know he’s alive. He left me a note, and a warning.” When he showed no sign of shock, I knew he had been aware of this fact.

  “Isabella—”

  “You could have at least told me. That’s what a real friend would do.” I glared at him and slid back over to my side.

  “There are things that you don’t understand, and it wasn’t my place to say anything.”

  “Is that what your damned Masters told you? Can’t you think for yourself?” I didn’t know how, but I was right back in his face. I stared directly into his eyes, daring him to utter a lie or turn away.

  “I thought I could protect you.”

  “From what?” My heart sank as I recalled my father’s note. He too, spoke of protection.

  “Carson was—”

  “Stop the car!” Gabriel threw the door open and was out of the car before it even came to a complete stop.

  “Otto!” My shout was a mixture of a scream and a groan. My chest tightened with dread as I got out of the car and rushed toward the old man. He lay sprawled on the ground in front of his house, blood streaming from his mouth and nose. A young man knelt over him, convulsing with sobs.

  “What happened?” Adelaide ran over and knelt beside the young man.

  “They killed him...they killed him.” He steadied his breathing as Gabriel laid his hands on Otto and began praying. My heart sank when I recognized the young man as his son, Lucien.

  “Wait...Renée...” My legs moved in the direction of her house before I could even complete my thought.

  Another young man came heading toward us from the opposite direction. At first I thought he was injured, but when he lurched to the side and doubled over and heaved, I froze, and a cold empty feeling took over my mind, as if this were a bizarre dream.

  “What’s going on? Who are you?” Brande approached the man and grabbed hold of him, making sure he didn’t keel over or run.

  “I’m...Ernest. I’m a friend of Lucien’s. I went to check on that lady and...you don’t want to go up there.”

  “Renée!” I suddenly had the will to move again. I dashed toward her house, already feeling as sick as Ernest was. I called her name again, not caring if my screeches alerted the entire neighborhood. I just knew I had to find her, even if I wouldn’t like what I found.

  “Stop! Don’t you see those lights down there? Trekkers are on their way, and it’s almost past curfew.” Brande threw his muscular arms around me, but I pivoted just in time to push him away. I continued running.

  “Renée!” Why was I rushing toward despair and horror?

  “Isabella, stop!” Brande was on me again, but this time I felt his magic at work. My muscles involuntarily relaxed, and my limbs went limp. I slumped to the ground, weeping out of anger and helplessness. My worst fear had come true...I failed her.

  “I have to go to her.” My pleas went unheeded.

  Brande scooped me up in his arms and brought me back to the car. The darkness in the sky began to recede as dawn broke. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “It’s because someone’s betrayed us.” How else would they have known? There were too many secrets, and too many of them in the open for the enemy to see.

  “Then we’ll find them.” He set me down.

  Lucien and Ernest were already in the backseat of the car, and Ernest had to restrain his friend from jumping out and running toward Otto’s lifeless body. Father Gabriel urged us to split the group and meet elsewhere. Adelaide sat in the car, trembling and raking a hand through her shoulder length hair. In a high-pitched voice she kept asking us where we should go, and I thought of the only other place Ken would go if he weren’t able to reach Renée.

  “We’ll all meet at the Red Lady’s house, Adelaide.”

  “But I thought she doesn’t...”

  “Just do it. Take Lucien and his friend. You’ll have to go around the long way so they don’t catch you.”

  She raked her hand through her hair again. A few strands snapped and got caught in her fingers. “Okay. We’ll meet you there.”

  As she sped off down the road, I gestured for Brande and Gabriel to follow me. “We’ll have to...go through Renée’s backyard. She has a tool shed that connects with an underground tunnel. We can come out through the chapel once the road is clear.”

  We picked up our pace when we heard the trekkers come up the road. When we made it to Renée’s, I noticed that her front door was ajar and not a single light flickered inside.

  But she shouldn’t be left alone in the dark...

  Fresh tears welled up and I felt sick to my stomach. We ran down the walkway that led to the backyard and then went into the tool shed. As we went through the underground tunnel, all I could think about was how I could’ve helped Renée and Otto if I had arrived earlier.

  When we reached the end of the tunnel, Father Gabriel asked, “How long do you think we should wait before going up into the chapel?”

  “I’ll let you know. I’ve done this before.” I glanced at Brande, who produced a small flame that seemed to hover above his open palm. He stood silent yet attentive, and eyed me with a somber expression.

  A part of me wished that Father Gabriel would’ve accompanied Adelaide and the others in the car. I didn’t feel comfortable talking about certain things with Brande in front of Gabriel. I still didn’t know what the priest’s intentions were, or if I could trust him as an ally. All I knew was that two people I cared about had been murdered, that there was very little information to lead me to Heilwig and the laboratory—and I was running out of will power, and time.

  The sun began its ascension into the morning sky when we knocked on Jasmine’s front door. The maid gave us an eyeful when she answered, and it dawned on me that I still wore my bloody, tattered SS nurse’s uniform. I was still in shock over Renée and could hardly speak, but I let out a grateful sigh when Penn came to the door and welcomed us in. Gabriel took it upon himself to explain that Adelaide and the others would be coming soon, and Penn assured him that he would prepare for their arrival. Gabriel then asked leave to go upstairs and rest.

  Brande and I followed Penn down the large art-decked hallway and into the immaculate living room where Jasmine liked to receive her guests. She sat on a plush sofa, wearing a silken white robe and drinking coffee as she read a newspaper. I expected her to be caught off-guard, or even a little perturbed at o
ur unannounced arrival. She preferred her home to be off limits. However, when she caught a glimpse of me, she set down her coffee and newspaper and rushed toward me, pulling me into a tight embrace.

  “Oh, Emelie...” She broke away to greet Brande and hugged him, but quickly grabbed hold of me again and guided me toward the sofa.

  “Jasmine...I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “Honey, don’t worry about it.” She sat next to me, still holding me close. “Lydie! Bring out some breakfast for my friends.”

  Brande sat in a chair across from us with his head bent. His posture was in an almost contemplative pose. He did that whenever he felt troubled, and for a second I thought of saying something to help put him at ease, but then my anger got the better of me and I said nothing. I just couldn’t put aside the fact that he had kept knowledge of my father away from me. He knew my past, and he knew how I felt about it. I began to wonder what he would have to gain if he slipped the wrong person my name and information. Was it him?

  “Renée is dead.” I lowered my head when I said this to Jasmine. I felt responsible and ashamed. “The Black Wolves know who I really am. We can’t trust anyone.”

  Jasmine’s lips trembled, and she shook her head in disbelief. Tears formed in her deep-set eyes. In that moment we just sat there, unable to speak, trying to sort through our thoughts and sorrow. Lydie returned with a serving cart and placed a plate of food in front of me. She then set up a tray next to Brande and did the same for him. He thanked her and reminded her to send something upstairs for Father Gabriel. Penn emerged from the kitchen with a pitcher of water and a couple of glasses. He poured some water and offered it to us, but we declined.

  “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can get you?” Penn wore a pained expression. Although Renée used to chide him for his bootlegging ways, she always welcomed him into her home, and he cared about her as well. I wondered if Penn was disappointed in me for not saving her.

  “We’re fine.” Jasmine blew her nose into a handkerchief and offered another one to me.