The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

However, if I didn’t cast the Circle, then how could I know or understand the rest of the diary? I thought about how it felt to open the first page and begin to read, knowing that I could not turn back once I knew Heilwig’s knowledge and secrets—nor would I want to. My whole life had been shrouded in mystery and filled with questions I could never get answers to. Now, I had a way to satisfy my inquiries and understand what had happened with my father these past sixteen years—what his plan was for the Gray Tower, and for me.

  And the only thing that stood in between me and that knowledge I yearned for was that damned Locus Circle.

  “Ah,” Hal sighed, beaming with pride over the drink he had made. “She likes it.”

  I finished off the martini and saluted him. “You’re too kind. You know, E.B. White said the martini is the elixir of solitude.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “A poet. I think he writes magazine articles too...I like him.”

  Hal reached into one of his compartments beneath the bar counter. “That reminds me, I just got another one in.”

  “Did you?” I watched him pull out a small red book.

  “This one’s by Elinor Glyn.” He shoved it toward me. The title read in fading black letters, Three Weeks.

  “When I asked for book recommendations,” I said, flipping through its pages, “I thought you’d give me something like Austen, or Brontë.”

  He snorted. “This is what the ladies are reading nowadays. No one wants to go out for a beer and talk about bloody Elizabeth Bennet.”

  “Hey—that’s classic literature, buddy.” I held up the red book. “This...this is...smut.”

  “Suit yourself, your highness.”

  I flipped through the book again. “I mean, look at the vocabulary in here. How many times does this woman have to use the word ‘pleasure’?”

  “All right, you’ve made your point.” He reached for the book, but I set it on my lap.

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to read it.” I made a mental note to go back and read page forty-five.

  He chuckled. “Would you like another martini?”

  “A hot soup would be nice.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Just as Hal headed into the kitchen, I heard the front door open and shut. I didn’t care to take notice of the newcomer until she came and sat right next to me. When I saw who it was, I immediately rubbed my vitriol bracelet to enhance my clarity of mind, all the while resting my right hand on the book, my left hand in my pocket, on my silver knife.

  Casandra regarded me with a tentative smile, and though her tight red dress, golden locks, and attractive face would make any man’s head turn, seeing her made my stomach turn. She was a Cruenti who claimed to be reformed, but damned if I had ever met one.

  “You’re Emelie, yes? I’m Casandra.” She offered her hand, but I sat there like a statue.

  “I know who you are.” I’d seen her at the pub before. She would spend her time drinking and socializing until it was time to stumble out the door with her latest flame. Granted, she seemed to only date non-wizards, but there was just something about her I didn’t like—aside from the whole being a Cruenti business, and in addition to resembling Nikon Praskovya.

  “I don’t think you do know who I am, love.” Instead of widening the gap between us, she seemed to lean in a little closer.

  My heart pounded in my chest, and I clenched the knife. “I’m surprised Hal even let you in here.”

  She sat up straight. “I haven’t harmed anyone...and I have rights like any other citizen, don’t I? A girl can get a drink, can’t she?”

  “How long do you think you can go without feeding on a wizard? Assuming you’re not lying about abstaining.”

  “I see that I’m speaking with a Tower Slave.” With a smirk, she leaned in again and drew in a deep breath. “An alchemist.”

  “It’s impolite for someone like you to read a wizard like that.” I began slowly pulling the silver knife out, but halted when Hal returned with my soup.

  “Here you are, Emelie. Good evening, Casandra, what can I get for you?”

  “Gin and tonic, Halden. Thank you.”

  He began making her drink and smiled. “Casandra, I thought you’d bring in Edan.”

  She waved her hand through the air. “He’s old news.”

  “So it didn’t work out, eh?” He gave her the gin and tonic.

  “I just didn’t find him amusing anymore.” She sighed and took a sip.

  “You’ve got to tell me...” Hal leaned over the bar counter. “Did you bite him?”

  She joined him in laughing. “No, I didn’t!”

  I rolled my eyes at their exchange. Hal and others wouldn’t find her so fascinating if they possessed magical abilities and had to fend her off. I made another mental note to make sure Edan hadn’t shown up in any recent missing persons reports. Just in case.

  “I have to go, Hal.” I left my soup untouched.

  “So soon?” His smile faded. “The Air Force officers are coming in tonight. The tall one, Jack, asked about you last week.”

  “I have to go,” I repeated in a low voice. I held the book with both hands so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach for my knife again.

  I went over to the coat rack and slipped the book into one of my coat’s outer pockets. I pulled on my coat and buttoned it up, throwing one last glance in the direction of the bar. Hal had gone into the kitchen again, and Casandra sat there—staring back at me like she wanted to drain me.

  “Maybe I’ll see you around again,” she said.

  “Hmm...yes, let’s just hope I don’t have a stake or sword in hand.” Having gotten in the last word, I opened the ugly green door and headed out.

  Since I lived within walking distance of Baker Street, I left the pub without hailing a cab. I headed down the street just in time to catch the beautiful sunset peeking through the clouds that had parted since the afternoon. Darkness seemed to settle almost immediately, and so I quickened my steps. The streets glistened with the slick dampness left by the rain and the air had already started to cool. Even amidst the cool metals of parked cars and lampposts that I tasted, the sweet familiar essence of gold stood out. I headed straight for a red telephone box just past the public gardens and closed myself inside. I dialed the operator and gave her a name. I waited for my call to connect.

  “This is Morton.”

  “Why were you at the debriefing today?”

  “Miss George?”

  “Yes, why did Ian need you there?”

  “You know why.”

  “So did you find our leak?”

  “Not yet. Seems SOE’s made a few enemies.”

  “I’ve made a few myself.”

  “I’m shocked.”

  “It’s good to know I have friends, though.”

  “Friends, eh?”

  “You should come see me, so we can discuss it in detail...bring some of your friends too.”

  “Well...goodnight then.”

  “Goodnight.”

  I hung up and went another few blocks until I reached Wesley Street. I made a right turn and headed up the familiar steps of the building I called home. I stopped at Jane Lewis’s flat on the first floor, declining an invitation for tea, and grabbing the package that the courier had brought. As I trudged up to the third floor, fatigue finally started to take hold of me, and I breathed a deep sigh when I made it inside.

  Everything was as I left it, which wasn’t saying much. Newspaper clippings lay scattered on my coffee table, both opened and unopened letters were stacked high on the kitchen counter, and my nose alerted me to a few undone dishes that I resolved to just throw into the trash. I drew a hot bath and got inside, but quickly got out once I felt myself nodding off. Tonight, I would have no terrifying dreams of battles and bloodshed.

  I pulled on my robe and grabbed the package, which I kept with me the entire time. I couldn’t describe it, but I felt both exhilaration and anxiety at looking at the diary again. I also wonder
ed who the “others” Heilwig spoke of were, and whether or not their names would be listed. These could very well be the people loyal to my father, or who were at least willing to side against the Tower in this matter. Either way, they’d be my closest allies.

  I set the unopened package on top of my cluttered newspaper clippings and sat back on my sofa, staring at the package on the coffee table and contemplating a thousand more questions. My fingers tingled as I reached for the package, so I could finally open it. I immediately halted when I felt a strong hand on my left shoulder and the cold blade of a golden knife—my golden knife, resting against my throat.

  “You didn’t think this was over, did you?” Praskovya asked.

  “How did you find me?” I asked, feigning shock.

  “I kept your knife, from the university. A precious possession should never be left in the hands of an enemy. I tracked down a wizard just so he could cast the spell I needed.”

  “And the imperium collar?”

  “I gave it to Galeno to use on you, just in case you made it out of France. If you really think about it, I am showing you mercy. Octavian would have your head because of Marcellus’s death.” She pressed the blade into my skin and made me hiss. I could feel a trickle of blood stream down.

  “And what about you, Praskovya?”

  “What about me?”

  “You’re standing on a Putrefaction symbol. You’ll decay and corrode if you cut me again. I promise you.”

  She paused in her breathing, and made a low laugh. “I should have known. Is there anything else I should know about?”

  “Yeah, you fell for the bait. This time, I won.”

  She got the hint and ran toward the window, but armed MI6 agents came crashing through and shouted orders as they surrounded her in a semi-circle. Four more armed agents came in through the front door, as well as Joshua Morton and a redheaded woman.

  “You’re late, Morton.” I took the handkerchief he handed me. I blotted the stream of blood from the superficial wound on my neck. When I had called him and told him to “bring his friends,” he must’ve been shocked that I had used the code phrase he once gave Jane if she ever needed his help. Luckily, he had decided to take a chance and show up for me.

  The redheaded woman approached Praskovya after the agents deprived her of my golden knife. The woman pulled out cuffs and bound Praskovya’s hands in front of her. Two of the men, one on each side of Praskovya, held her still as a third agent clamped leg irons around her ankles.

  “Nikon Praskovya,” the redheaded woman said to her, “you are hereby under arrest and will be taken into the British government’s custody.”

  I turned to Joshua and whispered, “Who’s the Irish woman?”

  He bent to my ear. “I thought you would know. You-know-who sent her a few weeks ago to partner on a few missions dealing with the Black Wolves. She’s also been trying to monitor your most recent assignment.”

  “And she asked you to be at my debriefing today.”

  “Correct.”

  My chest tightened and I grew angry. Apparently the Gray Tower had been watching me more than I thought. I wondered if SOE wanted me to extract Heilwig from France, only to hand him over to her.

  “Give me the head cover.” The Irish woman gestured toward the agent who secured Praskovya’s legs. He handed her a black hood with a glowing symbol on it.

  “What’s that?” Praskovya made a futile attempt to back away.

  “Don’t worry, Nikon. It’s just to ensure that you don’t run away from us.”

  “No! The Russian government will pay my ransom. I will not be your prisoner.”

  The woman straightened out the hood and opened it. “Unfortunately for you, I already informed them that you had turned on them and voluntarily remained with the Nazis. Thus, you are worth nothing to the Russians.”

  Praskovya squinted her eyes, gritted her teeth, and in an instant the two agents next to her went sliding in opposite directions across the room. Before anyone could react, Praskovya shrieked and fell to her knees when what looked like a lightning bolt struck her. Praskovya flashed an angry gaze at the woman. She commanded the golden knife to fly straight toward the woman’s face. However, the knife disintegrated into powder, and when the golden powder passed her, it reassembled back into a solid knife and hit the wall. The cuffs and leg irons restraining Praskovya glowed red hot, and she fell to the ground, screeching in pain.

  “There we go...” The woman slipped the black hood onto Praskovya as two more agents came forward and grabbed her. This time, Praskovya said nothing and fell limp as she slipped into unconsciousness.

  Joshua faced me. “How did you know Praskovya would track you here?”

  “In some ways, she and I really do think alike. It’s what I would do. Besides, once I detected my golden knife, I knew she had it and was following me. She wouldn’t have come here though if I gave any sign that I was aware of her presence.”

  “Well done, Miss George,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Let’s go,” Morton said to the MI6 agents. He placed a hand on my shoulder in a parting gesture before heading out the door. The agents followed, carrying Praskovya with them.

  I rose from my seat and retrieved my knife still lodged in the wall. I faced the woman and began taking in the breadth of her power. I grew a little anxious. “That was impressive.”

  “You could have helped.” She picked up my package, still lying on the table. “You have over sixty symbols hidden in this flat.”

  “It didn’t look like you needed any help. Besides, let’s just say I’m not heartbroken when a Gray Tower wizard kicks the bucket.” I approached her and opened my hand; she handed me the package.

  “Spare me your vindictive attitude, Miss George. You are part of the Order as much as I am, and whatever happens to one of us should concern all.”

  “You’re an alchemist.” I cradled the package tightly in my arms, ignoring her statement.

  “I’m the Master Alchemist, to be exact. I’ve been away, working for the Order, but I’ll be returning to the Tower soon.”

  “Cathana Erin. I know about you. Did you know Veit Heilwig?”

  “I did, and your father was also a friend of mine. He’s an absolutely phenomenal wizard.”

  “Spare me your flattery.”

  “My dear, it wasn’t meant to be mere flattery. It’s the truth.”

  I set the knife on the table and thought about how she had made it disintegrate and reconstruct without creating a symbol. I had seen Heilwig, an Elite Alchemist, create blazing symbols with his fingertips. Cathana went beyond that—she had mastered alchemy, and could do every alchemical spell by constructing the symbols with the power of her mind. She could direct her spells without any physical gesture.

  “If Heilwig really was your friend, then I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “All my time at the Gray Tower, I had never heard of him. Why?”

  “Sometimes...when one of us falls into disgrace, his name may be struck from our records, and those who know him are forbidden to speak of him.”

  “Sounds typical. I suppose you guys like to throw people away.”

  She stiffened. “Veit stole something from us, and he decided that helping your father was more important than the Gray Tower.”

  “Well, Veit’s dead now. Is that what you wanted?”

  “No,” she lowered her gaze, “it’s not what I would have wanted.”

  I didn’t know why, but her response deflated my antagonism. “Well...it was interesting meeting you in person, Master Erin. By the way, can you tell Leto Priya to stay the hell away from me?”

  “I’ll deliver the message.” She turned and headed toward the door, but then paused to face me once more. “You know, if you’d come to the Tower for more training, you could probably match Veit’s level within months.”

  “Thank you for the suggestion.” Could you please go now?

  “I don’t t
ake Apprentices, but for you...I’d make an exception.”

  “Thank you, Master Erin.”

  I closed and locked the door behind her, then I went over and sat down in my chair, wondering if the prison they planned to lock Praskovya in would hold her for long. For a moment, I thought Master Erin had detected the diary and would try to take it. I carefully unwrapped the package and flipped the diary open, gripping it as if reassuring myself that it was here and all mine. I began re-reading the page that instructed me to cast the Locus Circle. Although I tried telling myself that there must’ve been a good reason for the spell, and everything depended on me following Veit’s instructions, I still hesitated over doing it.

  Perhaps I would stick with my original plan to just ask my father when I saw him again. He’d probably know what to do about this. The image of him in the park that day flashed in my mind, and I thought about the enchantment he placed me under. He said he intended it for my memory, but he didn’t explain why.

  Fear gripped me when I thought of Neal and how he kept claiming that an enchantment obscured my mind. What if he was right? I had been so overwhelmed with emotion the day I saw my father that I didn’t even question what he did. My heart grew resentful as I realized that my father hadn’t bothered to explain the enchantment because he was responsible for altering and locking my memories. When we were together in the park that day, he had wanted to fortify earlier enchantments from years past. He must’ve woven the memory spells with such intricacy, that the Locus Circle would be the only way to break through them.

  Why would my father and Veit do this?

  I glanced toward the bottom of the page, reading through the list of materials I needed in order to cast the Locus Circle. Most of them I already kept in my flat, and I went scouring through my kitchen, closet, and nightstand drawers for them. I knew I didn’t have the last set of materials on my list, but Jane Lewis did.

  I ran down the stairwell to her front door. I knocked a few times and she answered with a sleepy face and a slightly surprised look in her eyes. I felt guilty for waking her up, but if I didn’t do this now, I would lose any resolve I had.

  “Isabella...is everything all right?”