The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  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.

  14

  Penn confirmed what Bernard had told me last night, that we had to choose among three cities: Dijon, Nice, and Reims. Penn used all his ingenuity, resources, and a few bribes, to find out which of the three hosted the laboratory.

  After visiting a few contacts, he had ruled out Nice because he found that the Nazis began pulling key projects away from areas occupied by Mussolini’s men. Traitors above all feared being betrayed, and so after the Nazis double-crossed their Soviet allies, their alliance with the Italian government unofficially began degenerating.

  Then it was down to Reims and Dijon. Reims stood in a comfortable strategic location for the German Armed Forces, being not too far from Germany itself. It had been accosted and usurped by Germany in the Franco-Prussian War, and the first Great War, so it would feel like coming home for the German Army. The Führer would have been further lured by the history of the town, which boasted of Roman arches still standing from the glorious days of the Roman Empire, kings being coronated in its cathedral, and even of miraculous oils and ancient relics.

  Based on all the information, Reims became the apparent choice. We agreed that as our cover Brande and I were postulants on retreat with Father Gabriel. Since it would have been suspicious in more ways than one for a young woman to be traveling alone with men to whom she had no relation, Gabriel said that I could claim him as my cousin. After enduring Lucien’s half-hearted apology, I accepted his and Ernest’s offer to back us up. We agreed that they would be dropped off before we reached town so they could come in separately. We didn’t want our group to be too large.

  Adelaide lent us her car and Father Gabriel volunteered to drive. I hopped in next to him and took the passenger seat. Brande, Ernest, and Lucien took the backseat. As we headed out on the road toward Reims, I thought about how Ernest’s presence would be useful since there would definitely be German Armed Forces protecting the lab, but I wasn’t as confident in Lucien. I knew he wanted to come so he could get a chance to avenge his father’s death, but in his state of mind, a person didn’t always think or act straight.

  My thoughts wandered toward Ken, and all of a sudden I felt like turning around and trying to find him. I ignored this urge and turned toward Father Gabriel and began chatting him up as a distraction. However, as soon as I started asking him about his Vatican connections, one stern look from Brande prompted me to make small talk elsewhere. Lucien nodded off and looked like he needed more sleep, and when I noted how much he looked like Otto, I felt sorry for him, because he’d never see his father again.<
br />
  I hoped that we’d be able to depend on Lucien, and that he would be able to focus on the mission at hand. I’d seen his mood in other people who experienced great loss. They would appear normal for a while, and would even interact with you, then suddenly their disposition would change and they would grow sullen or depressed. It also bothered me that I could taste the toxic essence of cadmium metal coming off him. If I asked Ernest about it and started prying into Lucien’s habits, he’d refuse to explain anything and clam up. I decided to ease into conversation with Ernest first, and asked him about how he began working alongside OSS.

  “I trained with the Red Tails.” Ernest had a proud gleam in his soft brown eyes.

  “The Tuskegee pilots?” I shifted in my seat to a more comfortable position.

  “One and the same. I flew missions against the Italian army in the Mediterranean, but one day, two of our pilots were assassinated.”

  “What? How?”

  “They got into their planes, and before the planes even took off, they exploded. I guess the enemy didn’t like all the damage we dealt. And let me tell you, half of us were scared to get back into our planes afterward.”

  The car swerved. I gazed at Gabriel for a few seconds. “Were...you just driving on the wrong side of the road, Father?”

  He stroked his chin. “It would seem so.”

  The car accelerated, but it didn’t seem to bother Ernest. “We figured we needed to catch whoever was planting bombs before anyone else died. So based on a lead, I ended up posing as a Moroccan businessman in Casablanca.”

  “Because you trained as a spy?” I glared at Father Gabriel before facing Ernest again.

  “No, I was the only fool crazy enough to take the assignment! I was going back and forth between there and Spain. I know enough French to make my way around, and I would pass along things I’d hear from French speakers in the area. No one ever said anything that could lead us to the assassin.”

  The car horn blared, and we swooped through a crossroad. I looked at Father Gabriel again and frowned. “Does anyone else care that we almost crashed back there?”

  “We’ll be fine.” Brande yawned.

  “You want me to finish my story?”

  “Sure, Ernest. At this rate, it may be the last one I hear.”

  “I ran out of leads until I met a spy named Galeno. We kind of became drinking buddies and one day he told me that he had a lead on the assassin.”

  “But how did you end up in Spain for so long?” I shifted again in my seat. “Didn’t the Red Tails need you?”

  Lucien rubbed his eyes and leaned forward. “They called him out for another flight and Galeno was waiting for him. He was the assassin all along, but he’s the sick type who likes to play games with his targets. He shot Ernest right out of the sky.”

  “Faster than Babe Ruth whacking a ball,” Ernest quipped.

  “You mean the Bambino?” We both laughed when Lucien and Brande exchanged confused glances at my reference to the famous baseball player.

  Ernest continued. “Anyway, I landed in Spanish territory and ended up doing side jobs for OSS while I waited on orders from the Red Tails. That’s how I met Lucien.”

  “We’re almost there.” Gabriel flashed me a smile.

  Ernest nodded toward Lucien. “I saved his life three times already. He loves trouble, and trouble loves him.”

  Lucien gave him a critical eye. “What about that time I saved you from that ambush in that brothel?”

  “I told you, Galeno went in there—and I followed.”

  “Yes, for four hours.” Lucien nudged Brande, and to my surprise, he laughed.

  I scowled at the idea of him being amused with anything having to do with whorehouses. I turned to Father Gabriel. “Are you going to let them talk like that?”

  The priest eyed me as if expecting me to whack him over the head. “Perhaps we should focus our thoughts and conversation on more...immediate matters.”

  I crossed my arms. “Men...”

  The drive took us over an hour, and we dropped off Ernest and Lucien as planned. Before noon, we were taking in the view of Reims’ rolling hills and bountiful vineyards. The city was nestled next to the Vesle River and looked splendid beneath the morning sun. I could see why it attracted many people, and this worked to our advantage. No one took particular notice of us as we pulled up to a quaint hostel called Le Fleur and asked for rooms. We gauged our surroundings and noted some German military, and even a few SS officers, moving about the city, but there were so few that I began wondering if we had chosen the right place.

  My stomach rumbled with hunger, so I decided to enjoy a nice meal and let one of the guys do the fretting. I thanked Claire, the waitress, who brought us chilled wine and set a large platter of fruit and cheese on our table. With a warm smile, she urged us to take our time browsing, pointing out that the menu listed both German and French dishes. As she left to give us time to decide, I leaned into Brande.

  “When you’re done with your meal, go to the smoking room and see how Lucien’s doing.”

  “He looks fine, so far.” Brande glanced at Lucien as he sat at the bar and started up a chat with an attractive blonde. Ernest ordered drinks.

  I drummed my fingers on the table. “We need him, but we don’t need him being a wreck.”

  “He says he wants to fight, and since we can only anticipate what’s waiting for us at that lab, I think we’ll need both him and Ernest.” Brande drank some wine.

  “Yeah, well a soldier who wants to go in with blazing weapons, not caring whether he lives or dies, will likely get himself killed.” My knuckles turned white from gripping the menu so tightly.

  “Is that your concern? People grieve in different ways.”

  I frowned. “Just find a way to tell Ernest to make sure Lucien doesn’t pull a kamikaze on us.”

  “Then perhaps I should speak with him.” Gabriel stirred his coffee.

  “Fine, I don’t care who does it...God, my lunch is already going to be ruined.”

  “Language, please.”

  “Sorry...Father.”

  “What will you be having, then?” Claire brought out a pitcher of cold water and stood ready to take our orders.

  “Well,” Gabriel took one last look at the menu, “I’m looking forward to the rabbit stew. We’re all going to have the rabbit stew, and some Château would be nice. I hope you both don’t mind me ordering for you.”

  I set my menu on the table. “Well, never mind what I might want...continue.”

  “We’ll have crepes, and more coffee too. That will be all.”

  “My, you must be starving!” She collected our menus. “Where are you from?”

  Gabriel spoke up. “I’m leading these two postulants on a retreat. They’re deciding whether or not to enter a monastery. This young man is a good friend of our family, and the young lady here is my cousin.”

  Claire’s smile widened. “Well, bless you! I wish you luck. I’ll be back soon with your entrée.” She left to fill our orders.

  Brande grunted when I gestured for him to go follow Lucien and Ernest to the smoking room, where men congregated and smoked their cigars. Once again, I tasted the sour tinge of cadmium in the air, and I spotted Lucien fondling something in his pocket. As I feared, he fell into a mood swing, and became sullen and irritable. I groaned at the prospect of several more mood swings that were sure to come. I was headed over to the bar when I saw a middle-aged SS officer enter. His belted tan jacket, black pants, and immaculate dress shoes, all clued me in to who he likely was.

  “Good afternoon, Stellenleiter Vester. How are you today?” The balding man at the bar smiled and began mixing a drink for him.

  A Stellenleiter was an SS local office head. He was most likely the highest-ranking officer here, and if anyone would know about the laboratory, it would be him.

  “You know, the usual.” Vester took off his cap. “But I must admit, this is far more pleasant than sitting in that moldy office back in Nure
mburg.”

  Several Masters of the Order believed Nuremburg Castle housed the famous occult items and relics Hitler had been collecting, such as the Spear of Destiny and the Grand Grimoire. That belief was reinforced when several attempts to infiltrate the castle were thwarted by over a dozen Black Wolves. Vester must have thought himself important to work out of Nuremburg, and wore his uniform with an irritating arrogance.

  I also noticed that he wore a talisman ring with the image of an owl on it, it guarded against body magic. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was Veit Heilwig’s ring. I wanted to punch him right then and there, but I decided not to miss my opportunity, since he would be my key to finding out where the lab and Heilwig were. I hopped onto the seat next to the blonde and gave her a subtle nudge.

  “Hey sister, beat it.”

  She turned and faced me with an offended look, but I stared her down and she stormed away. The bartender came over and asked what I’d like to drink.

  “Just a water please, thank you.” I spoke loud enough to draw Vester’s attention. He eyed me for a few seconds before closing the gap between us.

  “Usually, when people sit at a bar, they want liquor.” He stared at my chest.

  “Well, I’m not much of a drinker. You see, I’m here with my cousin—that priest over there. He’s leading me on a retreat so I can decide if I want to join a convent. I’ve read about Saint Joan of Arc and what she did here, and I must say that I already feel inspired.”

  “That would be a waste. You look no older than twenty five.”

  Suddenly my urge to punch him returned. I expected him to say twenty, at most. “Should age determine desire?”

  “Not at all, my dear. In fact, I find that with age comes much experience. Perhaps, I can teach you a few things.”

  Not in a thousand years, buddy. “Well, my food is ready.”

  “How long will you be in town?”

  “Less than a week, Monsieur—”

  “Vester...Simon Vester. Well, I have a prior engagement for the rest of the day, but tomorrow evening I would be happy to escort you and give you a private tour of the city.”