The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “I wonder if Galeno was going to hold onto you for her.”

  “That would’ve been a disaster.”

  “Just try to be careful, Isabella. Believe it or not, it would pain me if you were killed.”

  “Thank you, Neal. I’ll...see you around.”

  He grabbed his case and headed over to the closet, pulled out the unconscious assassin and doubled him over his shoulder. He spoke a Word, and disappeared in a flash. By this time, my stomach ached and my limbs felt weak. I knew I needed to have some food. I quickly dressed and then went down to join Richard for a meal, relieved that he didn’t ask about my exchange with Neal.

  20

  Richard and I exchanged few words about my Paris assignment during the rest of the car ride, as was protocol. Anything I had to divulge about my mission would be shared with Ian. I debated with myself whether or not to tell Richard about Stella’s fate, and it seemed every time I was on the verge of saying something, I would choke up or pause. Finally, I told myself that I would only share what I knew about Stella if he asked me. He never did.

  As the car slowed and parked in front of the building entrance, I called to mind the names of each person who fought, sacrificed, and laid down their lives for me to reach this place. I meant it when I told Ken I had grown tired of this war, of spying, and especially of losing friends. However, if I stopped fighting, I would feel as if their sacrifices were all in vain.

  Once again, it seemed, Ken was right about me. I had too much fight in me, and too much heart to just give up and stand on the sidelines. I’d see this through as long as necessary, I’d do it as a wizard, and not try to escape into a life I knew I’d probably never have. If I ever met the man of my dreams and got married, then that would be fine—if not, then that would be fine too. As long as I followed Renée’s advice and remained true to myself, then I could find peace in that.

  “Thank you, Richard.” He opened the car door and held an umbrella over me. I stepped out of the vehicle and went into the building. Despite the warm July weather, the clouds that had formed earlier now began pouring down rain.

  I wore a black dress under a fitted black coat, and my affinity for fedoras led me to ask Richard for his. I placed it on my head and tilted it forward, shielding my eyes from the gawking of others. I didn’t feel sociable at all; I wanted no greetings, no “welcome back” statements, and especially no small talk. I did acknowledge some other agents and employees in passing with a quick nod here or there, but they found me reluctant to stop and say anything.

  “Welcome back, Agent George.” Bernadine smiled kindly from behind the reception desk.

  “Good afternoon, Bernadine.” I especially didn’t want to talk to her, but I had learned a long time ago to never provoke the anger or resentment of the one who administered the office, mailed paychecks, and held keys.

  I gripped the handle to the briefcase I carried, which contained the formula case. I had also included a file folder where I secured the papers I had stolen from the lab. Before leaving Brown’s, I had sent the diary by courier to Jane Lewis, as I’ve done other packages in the past. I didn’t dare bring the diary in with me, because I didn’t want anyone to know about it, and besides, it had more to do with Gray Tower affairs than SOE.

  I went down the hallway and up the stairwell that would take me to Ian’s office. Both of our offices were on the same floor since he headed my department. As I passed my tiny office, whose door had no lettering, I considered asking for a new one...a bigger one. Why not? I had risked just as much as any man would.

  Taking a deep, calm breath, I removed the fedora and knocked on his door. I entered at his behest, and sat in the chair facing his desk. His usual jovial demeanor had turned somewhat subdued, probably because Joshua Morton from MI6 stood at his side.

  “Glad to have you back, Isabella.” Ian gestured toward a cart carrying a teapot and cups, cream and sugar, and some pastries.

  “Thank you, but no. Let’s get this over with.” I picked up the briefcase and gently set it on his desk. As I opened it and offered the small case inside to Joshua, I handed the papers to Ian and recounted everything that had happened to me—except the parts I wanted them to know nothing about.

  “So you failed to extract Veit Heilwig,” Joshua commented at the end, examining individual vials from the case.

  “Yes...sir.”

  “But you destroyed the true stockpile, captured the new formula which they will never be able to duplicate, gathered intelligence from Simon Vester’s office, and even disposed of some Black Wolves along the way.” Ian folded his hands under his chin and shifted his gaze toward Joshua.

  “Well,” I slightly smirked at Ian. “I had some help.”

  Ian’s expression grew serious. “And we’ll find the double agent who betrayed your identity. In any case, I do believe you’ve done well.”

  “She’s done well enough.” Joshua placed the vials back inside the case and shut it. “I’ll take these down to our lab and have an update for you by next week.”

  “Very good, then. Was there anything else you needed from Agent George?”

  “She can hand in her written report by the end of the week. This debriefing is over, thank you.” With a solemn air, he grabbed his trench coat from the coat rack and headed out the door. I could have burned a hole through the door the way I glared at it.

  “Hmph...well enough. At least acknowledge all the hell I went through to get this formula here.”

  “I hope you don’t take his indifference to heart, Isabella. You did a brilliant job.” He went to his wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of sherry. He had probably been waiting all day to bring it out.

  “Thanks.” I gladly accepted the glass he poured me, taking a long, slow sip and slouching in my seat. “Why don’t we go down to Finley’s and have a real drink?”

  “Because, some of us have loads of paperwork sitting on our desks to get through.”

  “Fine.” I couldn’t really strong-arm him into it when I only patronized the local pub once every couple of months. He had gone maybe once or twice before giving up and just keeping Sherry in his office.

  “That reminds me, I have the resignation documents ready for you, and all they need is your signature. Are you ready to retire?”

  I slowly shook my head. “Not yet, but I would like some leave time.”

  “If that’s what you need, then of course.” He looked rather pleased as he sat on the edge of his desk near me and drank his wine.

  “Would a few months be asking too much? I want to return after Christmas, but before the New Year.”

  His grimace told me maybe it was asking too much. “Perhaps...I can go talk with the director. I mean, you have done us a great service, and if I went through half of what you did...”

  “And what about a bigger office?”

  “Let’s work on getting your five month leave, shall we?”

  “Did I ever mention how much I admire you? You’re like a second brother to me.”

  He downed the rest of his sherry. “And you’re the spoiled sister I never had.”

  “Well are you going to see about it, or what?”

  “You know, I think I will. That way, at least I won’t have to deal with you for a few months.” He winked at me and left for the top floor, where the heads of the organization had their offices.

  I decided to head back to my tiny dungeon and fight off any spiders or insects that may have invaded and settled while I was away. I set down my sherry, not really having the stomach to finish it all, and walked down the hall to office #221B. I fumbled for my key before remembering that I had left it with Bernadine when I last left London. I didn’t feel like going back down and coming up again, so by chance, I tried the door to see if it was unlocked.

  With a satisfied grin, I went in ready to settle into my chair and check any mail awaiting me, but froze at the sight of what used to be Stella’s side of the room. The furniture was still there, but there were other things in plac
e that certainly weren’t there before. A notebook and three pens sat on top of the desk, and a single red rose lay across toward the front. A stack of papers were arranged with a degree of neatness that I didn’t like, and when I looked at the wall adjacent to the desk, I saw a large poster of Amelia Earhart.

  Before I could finish processing what I saw, a bubbly brunette who looked like she was late for her high school sewing class walked into the room and smiled.

  “Oh my,” she said, pressing her hands to her mouth and beaming at the same time. “I didn’t think you’d be here until later this afternoon.”

  “I’m sorry...who are you?”

  “Hello, I’m Bianca. I’ve heard so much about you, Miss George, and I think it’s swell that we have so much in common.”

  Ian came bursting through the doorway. “Ah...there you are. I was going to tell you about your new officemate.”

  My gaze went from Ian to Bianca, and then back to Ian. I wasn’t sure how to respond because I felt like they had thrust this upon me during the worst possible time. When I didn’t feel like having a chattering neighbor next to me, especially in the space where Stella used to be. Yes, I knew she would never come back, but I wanted time to mourn for her in my own way, which included leaving her belongings alone until I’ve reconciled myself to losing her.

  I didn’t know if I would cry or explode, and so I refused to shake the girl’s hand and hastily excused myself. I stalked down the hall, back into Ian’s office and shut the door. He came in after me and grabbed me by the shoulder. I stiffened as he pulled me into a hug.

  “I knew you wouldn’t like it, but if I knew you’d take it this hard, I wouldn’t have done it.”

  “I told you I wasn’t interested in a new officemate.” I pulled away.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Can I get my own office? At this point, I’ll take a broom closet.”

  “Oh stop it, if you talk to her, I’m sure you’ll like her.”

  “What exactly do we have in common, besides dark hair and green eyes?”

  “She’s American, her father is a military man, and she likes those flowery hats.”

  “I like fedoras.”

  “And the best part is, she’s a Practitioner. You can be sort of a double mentor to her.”

  A Practitioner acquired the lowest level of wizardry training at the Gray Tower. Practitioners weren’t required to advance to higher levels, though many chose that route. Most people who left the Tower at this level were usually the types who wanted to either live quiet lives with just the basic knowledge of controlling their magic, or to hone their magical abilities in service of advancing other vocations. It could be a midwife who seemed more knowledgeable than the local doctor, and had never lost a mother or child—she was probably adept at body magic. Or, consider a detective with extraordinary skill and impeccable reasoning—probably a Philosopher.

  Bianca was young and definitely green. She probably went to the Gray Tower expecting one thing and completely experienced something different. Now, she had found her way to SOE, perhaps the result of a desire for adventure and her father making a few phone calls on her behalf.

  I faced Ian. “I’ll go and talk with her. But if I don’t like her, will you send her to another office?”

  “You have my word.”

  “Thank you, and what about my leave?”

  “I’ll have an answer for you in a few days.”

  “Good.”

  I walked out and went back to my office. With a stern face, I sat in my chair like I had wanted to earlier. Bianca wasn’t at her desk, and for a moment I thought I had scared her off. I recanted the thought when she came back in carrying a cup of coffee. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I felt a twinge of remorse when I saw her watery eyes and crestfallen expression. She surprised me when she set the coffee on my desk and asked me if I needed anything else.

  “No, thank you. Listen...I’m usually a lot more friendly, it’s just that I came back from hell, and the girl that had that chair and desk before you is a pile of ashes in a Nazi death camp. That’s quite a bit for me to cope with.”

  She sat in her chair and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. They didn’t tell me where I was going or who I was going to be with until the very last minute. When I found out it was you, I was excited.”

  “I should be the one apologizing. I hope this doesn’t tarnish your image of me, even though I didn’t know I had one.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Welcome to the Special Operations Executive.” I took a sip of coffee. Well, at least she knew how to make good coffee.

  “Miss George, I know I’m the new girl, and I have a lot to learn, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do the job. My father hates the fact that I’m here, and I probably left the Gray Tower for the same reason you did. I don’t want to be treated like a child, and I don’t want to be judged based on assumptions.”

  I paused for a long while and considered her words. “Fair enough.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Have you been on assignment yet?”

  “No, but I’ve been training.”

  I took another sip of coffee so she wouldn’t see me frown. “Well, we all have to start somewhere. What were you doing at the Gray Tower?”

  “I tested and they told me I was best at body magic. They also said I could be a Philosopher.”

  I nodded. “You didn’t enjoy it there, though?”

  “I did, but then my brother was killed. He was in the Navy, like my father.” She turned and reached into her desk drawer, pulling out a small picture and handing it to me. A young man with a piercing gaze stood in a naval uniform. He looked no older than his sister.

  “Handsome fellow. What’s his name?” I gave her back the photo.

  “Eric...Eric Raye. He died fighting for us, and I was sitting in the Gray Tower, oblivious to the world.”

  “So you felt like you were wasting your time?”

  “Did you?”

  “I have a complicated relationship with the Order. There are plenty of reasons why I’m not at the Gray Tower.”

  “I might go back, but right now I want to do something. Why can’t we all just get together and end this war with our powers?”

  God, she had a lot to learn. “Isn’t that what Octavian Eckhard wants to do? Create world order under the leadership and rule of wizards? Get his hands on the Akashic Record so mere mortals can quake in his presence and worship him?”

  She lowered her gaze. “I guess I didn’t think about it in that way.”

  “Well, I’m sorry about your brother. I understand why you want to fight.”

  We continued talking for the next two hours, and I made up my mind that I’d like her to remain my officemate. In fact, she reminded me of myself, in some ways, when I had first started at SOE. I didn’t know how much of a mentor I could be, since I hoped to be back in the United States as soon as possible. I also hesitated over the idea because I feared she would end up like Stella.

  My eyes burned and I felt a lump in my throat at the thought of her, and Renée, and others. As I sat at my desk writing up my report for Morton, I kept repeating to myself that I had to keep fighting, that I wouldn’t quit. At the end of the workday, I said goodbye to Bianca and grabbed my coat. I headed out the door—I was ready for a real drink.

  21

  Finley’s Pub stood right at the end of Baker Street. It had become the haunt of several SOE agents who’d drift in after a hard day of work. On an evening like this one, I was certainly one of them. We’d mingle at Finley’s with people from neighboring office buildings, bored twenty-somethings looking for conversation, companionship, and even Air Force officers who were off-duty.

  Of course SOE agents knew better than to discuss the nature of their work while patronizing Finley’s, even if sincerely trying to blow off steam. I came around for a drink maybe twice every couple of months, and I still used the name “Emelie” while at the pub. I l
iked going to Finley’s because it felt like I still had a semblance of a normal life. Some nights I’d just sit and enjoy the banter and raucous jokes of the Air Force officers, or watch with amusement as one of the uptight businessmen asked one of the cute twenty-something girls to dance. Sometimes I’d sit at the bar with two or three other SOE agents, and we’d just give each other the I-Know-What-You’re-Going-Through look without uttering a word. It also helped that the barman always gave me free drinks.

  I opened the front door, painted an ugly green, and went inside. I took off my coat and hung it on the coat rack. The lingering smell of cigar smoke wafted from the pub’s smoking room, and the lights were dimmed. A few businessmen sat at one of the booths in the far corner, drinking and singing along to I Don’t Want To Set The World on Fire playing on the radio. The barman, Hal, dusted off the bar counter with a rag with no particular enthusiasm, but his face lit up when he saw me, and he gestured toward one of the stools.

  “There’s my girl! How are you?”

  “I’m well. I’ll have a martini.”

  “It’s good to see you, Emelie.” He began mixing my drink.

  “It’s a little slow tonight.” I looked over my shoulder and saw the businessmen down the last of their drinks and then head for the door.

  “We have our highs and lows. Next week, I’ll hardly manage to keep all the orders straight.” He garnished my drink with an olive and handed it to me.

  “Thanks, Hal.” I set my martini in front of me. I grabbed a handful of chips from a half-empty bowl on the bar counter and devoured them.

  For a second, I thought about going to Jane Lewis’s place to see what she was cooking. I’d have to stop by and see her anyway to pick up Heilwig’s diary that was dropped off by courier. I buried my face in the martini glass, nearly quivering at the thought of casting that Locus Circle. If I really wanted to, I could do it, but if I made a crucial mistake or if my mind proved weak, I’d end up insane or dead.