The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “There you are,” I said, walking over to my nightstand and collecting alchemical tools and powders. I put on a false smile.

  “Sorry, I’m a little late,” she said, lugging in her own suitcase. “I just came from the pub.”

  Bianca was my officemate back at SOE, and a friend. She was a Practitioner adept at body magic, but left the Gray Tower in frustration when her brother, a naval officer, was killed in battle. She had felt stuck in the Tower while others put themselves in harm’s way, and so she left and joined SOE. However, the Tower decided it wasn’t done with her, and the Masters wanted to pull her in for further training. Like I said, if they really wanted you to continue with them, they found ways to make it happen.

  “SOE will be calling me back once the investigation’s over.” I closed my suitcase. Deep down though, a part of me feared that they’d never call, even if the investigation concluded in my favor. In any case, I had already decided what I needed to do. First, I would make Hotaru pay for what he did, and then I’d find every Master, Elite, and Apprentice at the Tower who was sympathetic to my cause, or would at least be open to some type of change. There just had to be another way, because it seemed the only other option was a full-on war. It would be those who stood with my father and me, and those who would oppose us. If the nightmarish vision I had in France ever came true, then it looked like this would be a war that would destroy us all.

  39

  The solitary lamp hanging from the window of the watchtower, the old Gray Tower, burned with intensity from its perch above the brick ramparts lining the wall. I felt a knot in my stomach as Bianca and I approached the Main Gate with Matthew, the Gatekeeper, and I kept averting my gaze from his whenever he looked at me. I knew it was because my shield had been shattered, and only Maolán’s enchantment protected me--for now. Tonight would conclude the third day of protection from the sapphire pendant, and when I awoke in the morning, it would be the fourth. Maolán made it clear that I only had five days to get my Veil, otherwise I’d be exposed as the Drifter right in the middle of the Gray Tower itself.

  Matthew pulled our luggage along on a cart and attempted to make small talk. He looked like a soldier who had abandoned rank and decided to get in touch with nature by living in the wilderness. He wore mismatched pants and shirt with a thick wool overcoat. His hair was just past his ears, and he wore a mechanical monocular over his right eye. When he saw that his small talk wasn’t working, he decided to tell a few jokes. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood for humor, and when he found me less than forthcoming, he began wooing Bianca.

  “I remember you,” he drawled in his Australian accent. “You’re back for training, then?”

  She shivered and glanced around. “I don’t know how you can stand being out here at night all the time.”

  He checked his watch and snorted. “Just wait until midnight, lovely. It gets colder than the ninth circle of Hell!”

  “Why don’t you ask Master Bazyli to get someone to lay a spell to warm up the Stromovka pathway?” Bianca turned up her jacket collar and her movement stiffened. Rows of trees stood along the dirt road, coaxed, by magic, into a long archway that nearly obscured our view of the night sky.

  I wrapped my arms around myself to stay warm. “This area doesn’t need any more magic. That’s why it’s so cold to begin with.”

  Bianca shook her head. “I don’t remember it being like this when I first came. For goodness sake, it’s the middle of August!”

  Matthew gestured toward our right, where, on the other side of the protective trees, we spotted a trio of men gathered around a small fire, completely oblivious to us. “Since the invasion, we’ve had more traffic around Stromovka forest than usual.”

  When the Nazis invaded Czechoslovakia, they had taken Prague, unaware that the Gray Tower stood within their reach. Several enchanted entranceways throughout the country led to the Stromovka pathway and the Main Gate. Guests who had stayed here would swear that the Gray Tower was located in Bohemia, or Hungary or Poland, because the protective spells enveloping the Tower distorted their brains’ sense of direction. Those of us who were initiated as members of the Order knew its exact location and each entrance.

  I faced Matthew. “Have you spotted a Black Wolf yet?”

  He looked taken aback, and pushed some of his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. “No, but last week we had a few SS officers snooping around. They usually turn back within minutes.”

  I nodded. “You can have the porter take our luggage to our rooms once we’re in.”

  We stopped at the massive double doors of the Main Gate, accented with iron and engraved with ancient symbols. A network of silver gears, both large and small, ran vertically down the center, where the double doors met. Matthew rotated the eyepiece of his monocular, and the gears in the Gate shimmered and began to move. The Gate groaned as the cogs in the center turned and meshed, and the double doors opened to us.

  “We’ve got some new rules,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the guard post past the gate. “Security will take you from here--and all your effects.”

  Bianca gave me a worried look. “We’re safe here...right?”

  I didn’t know how to answer that, but at least I hadn’t been daft enough to place the diary and papers in with my luggage. I had concealed them in a large pocket inside my coat, and sealed it with the alchemical symbol for Secrecy.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, signaling the Elite wizard who approached us. “The only thing that could break our protection is an Anomos spell. The only advice I’d give is to not use the St. Martin Rotunda again to get here. The nearby area has been compromised, so someone could see you enter or leave the Rotunda.”

  We stepped into the light beneath a lamppost and glanced at the nearby guard post. It looked like a security booth you’d see at a military checkpoint, except it was twice as large. Three Elites sat inside receiving radio transmissions and giving instructions to other security personnel scattered throughout Tower grounds. One of them turned toward us and came over. He wore the black double-breasted coat and black pants that all Elites wore while at the Gray Tower.

  When he lifted his optical goggles, I recognized him and gave a tentative smile. “Anastasio, good evening. It’s a little odd for Order members to go through security checks, don’t you think?”

  He didn’t smile back, but his voice was warm. “We’re just following orders, Isabella.” He signaled to another wizard, who came and carted our luggage toward the guard post. “I’ll make sure your things get to your rooms. At sunrise, you’ll need to report to the infirmary.”

  Bianca frowned. “Does it look like we’re sick?”

  “Not you,” Anastasio said. “You’ve been here within the last six months.”

  His gaze fell on me, and I stiffened. “I’ll go see the Master Physician first thing in the morning.”

  “Make sure that you do,” he said.

  “G’night, ladies.” Matthew rotated his monocular and stared at me for what seemed an eternity before turning and heading back toward the Main Gate.

  Bianca and I continued down the cobblestone walkway that led to our palatial manor house. Since everyone ate in the kitchens down near the Grand Hall, the three large manor houses on the property were divided into dozens of rooms with private baths. One manor hosted Elites, the other Practitioners and Apprentices, and the third manor served as the residence for guests of the Gray Tower.

  When we made it to our rooms (Bianca’s was next door to mine) and settled in, one of the security personnel dropped by and returned our luggage. I changed into a sleeping gown, yawned and stretched out on my bed, feeling both excited and anxious about meeting the wizards who had helped my father--and me--all those years ago. Would they be relieved to see me? Did they have a plan to move us forward? A million other questions raced through my mind, but fatigue drowned them out. I fell asleep with my lamp on, not because I forgot to turn it off, but rather because I didn’t want to be alone in the dar
k.

  “You might feel a slight shock...” Dr. Jian Lan pressed the final electrode to my left wrist and then went over to turn on the EKG machine. I nearly jumped at the jolt of energy that ran through me as the machine monitored my heart--and probed for any enchantments or curses.

  The Master Physician monitored the output on a long sheet of paper. He turned a knob on the EKG, and I could see wiring and some of the gears turning through one of the glass panels on the side of the machine. The inner-gears gave off an iridescent glow, and the machine made a beeping noise.

  The doctor held up his left hand, but still had his eyes on the output. “Is that pendant you’re wearing enchanted?”

  “Yes...” I prayed he wouldn’t ask me to take it off. Maolán told me not to do it before Serafino and Ekwueme fortified my mask. They would have to do it for me tonight.

  I glanced in the direction of the door and wondered how fast I’d be able to run. I never bothered to ask Dr. Lan’s age, but he looked to be in his sixties. However, if I jumped off the exam table and fled, I supposed the Master Wizard wouldn’t have to chase me--he’d just shut down my brain or stop my heart from beating.

  I blew out a low breath and glanced around the exam room. A supply cabinet stood in the far corner, with a vase of flowers on top. A storage shelf that ran along the wall held utensils and medical kits, and I could taste each and every metal present. And, of course, the room had no window. However, the room did have a current of magical energy running through it. Subtle spells had been placed to promote clarity of mind and physical healing, but I also detected some type of magical alarm system.

  “Isabella...” he finally lowered his hand. “Never mind. It’s finished.”

  After writing down a few notes on the chart attached to his clipboard, he detached the electrodes from my wrists, ankles, and chest. I instinctively brushed my finger against the pendant, and I readied my tongue to launch into a longwinded explanation about Confrontations with demons.

  “It’s good you’re back for more training,” he said. “We haven’t had as many alchemists admitted this year.”

  I clasped my hands. “Can I go now?”

  A flicker of a smile crossed his lips. “We’re almost done.”

  He instructed me to bare my neck. I gathered my hair into a pile and leaned forward, trying to block out the nightmarish image of Henry Smith. The doctor wanted to see if I had been hit with an In Mente spell.

  “A lot has changed,” I murmured. When he tapped me on the shoulder, I lifted my gaze to his and let my dark hair fall.

  He exhaled a long breath. “We’ve had too many wizards return ill or cursed. The longer you’re outside the Gray Tower, it seems, the worse condition you return in.”

  I watched him jot down a few more notes on his chart and decided to change the subject. “Has Master Erin had any luck with hunting those Black Wolves?”

  “Some,” he said, placing his chart aside. “I noticed an aura--”

  “I recently had a Confrontation with a demon.”

  He looked at me as if I told him I had gone playing in traffic. “Well, you don’t need me to tell you how terribly--”

  “I know, Dr. Lan. I’ve already gotten a few verbal lashings over it, but it couldn’t be helped.”

  He sighed, took out a cigarette and lit it. “I’m going to send you down to one of my Elite Nature Wizards who can do a cleansing for you. Physically, you’re fine, but...something’s still off. If the cleansing doesn’t work, then I’ll have to treat you myself.”

  “I’m already on it. Thanks.” I flashed him a smile and reached for my Apprentice uniform. He took the hint and left, closing the door behind him.

  I took off my exam gown and slipped into the knee-length black tunic. I arranged the hood attached; it always reminded me of a veil. I hid my father’s ring in my room, but wore Veit’s talisman ring on my left hand. I fitted my handguard on my right hand. The bracelet chain wrapped around my wrist and made a second loop around my thumb. A golden emblem hung from the chain: a circle within a square, within a triangle and greater circle: the alchemical symbol of the Philosopher’s Stone. Since Apprentices of all the disciplines wore the same clothing, my handguard would identify me to others as a student of alchemy. Each school of discipline had its own emblems.

  After arranging my uniform and putting on my black pants and shoes, I headed out of the infirmary and inhaled a deep breath. I had never thought I’d return here, and certainly not under these circumstances. With a nervous grin, I greeted a few Elites in passing and made my way toward the Grand Hall. It was the largest building on Tower grounds and hosted learning rooms, a Grand Room on the first floor, and the Masters’ offices and residences on the second.

  I cut across to the Grand Hall and went into the lobby, where I’d receive my training schedule. The lobby always reminded me of a hotel’s, with its damask rugs, wood rafters, and lounge furniture. Apprentices sat at tables having drinks and playing chess while a group of Practitioners headed toward the learning rooms. I spotted some guests who were mainly ambassadors from different countries, and a few people who were probably academic instructors for the Order’s youngest members.

  I went over to the wall, where the schedule information had been posted. I ran my finger down the list of Apprentices names and found mine, but then frowned when I saw that I was supposed to report to room number three with the Boetheos.

  This was the equivalent of sending me back to kindergarten. I could think of only one person who would send a seasoned Apprentice to be with Boetheos...Master Priya. I wasn’t necessarily respectful toward the man when we had first met, but then I couldn’t have imagined any other way I would’ve reacted toward the chief tracker of my father.

  I walked down the east wing of the Hall and went inside my designated room. My stomach tightened and my cheeks burned when everyone’s eyes followed me. To add insult to injury, I was apparently the last to arrive. Master Faron Bazyli stood at the front of the room and stopped, mid-lecture, to grunt at me. Laughter escaped from a few of the Boetheos as I gritted my teeth and quickly sat in the only available seat. As Bazyli started up again, the Boetheo to my right caught my eye.

  “What did they send you in here for?” he whispered.

  The kid looked to be around seventeen, if that. “It’s a long story.”

  Master Bazyli, hands clasped behind his back and pacing down the aisle, approached with a furrowed brow and slight haunch. “Isabella here will help me supervise you since the Master Alchemist is away and our illustrious Apprentice here has nothing better to do.”

  And he couldn’t have told me this a minute ago? “I’m happy to help with supervision, Master.”

  “No, you’re not,” he replied. “Thomas, Lily, and Chanda--report to Professor Luka for academic studies...”

  He continued rattling off names and directing the Boetheos to other rooms down the hall, to serve in the kitchens, or to assist Elite wizards. He gave the remaining five to me and instructed us to head down to the training grounds. I rose from my seat and gestured for them to follow me out, but paused when I noticed Bazyli retiring to his chair and taking up a newspaper.

  “Master, you’re not coming?” I asked.

  “Why should I? I’m sure you’ll take care of my Boetheos. You can have them disperse for lunch after training.”

  I held back any further objections and walked the Boetheos out--two boys who spoke excitedly about the prospect of combat training, another boy and a girl who looked like they wanted to run back home to their parents, and the young man I had spoken with earlier in class. He caught up and walked along with me, looking rather amused that he was taller than me. He had curly dark hair and red-brown skin.

  “So...are you going to be helping us every day?” He wore the plain white shirt, dark pants and sweater all Practitioners wore.

  I sized him up. “If you’re going to start flirting with me, I’ll have you know that I like guys who don’t have curfews and can drive.”
>
  He smiled. “Most of the Apprentices don’t even want Boetheos talking to them unless we’re bringing them coffee or a letter.”

  “Wait...you guys bring coffee? I’ve got to start putting that to use.”

  “Might as well, Apprentice.”

  “Just call me Isabella.”

  He looked at me as if I had cursed in front of him. “Uh, yeah. I’m Cliff Wright. I’m from Brooklyn, by the way.”

  I shook his hand when he offered it. Though members of the Order came from all over the world, it was still nice to meet someone from the same country as you. “Welcome to the Gray Tower.”

  As we walked through the Courtyard of Light, my shoulders tightened at the sight of the statue of Divine Wisdom standing with her golden sword held high. I willed my mind to remain blank so that I wouldn’t have to see that bizarre dream of one of the Master Wizards being impaled on the sword. I pushed it out of my mind as we passed the tailor shop and post office, and believe it or not, the Gray Tower also had a general store, a theatre, and a bank. It was as if a tiny city had merged itself with a European university and built an enchanted wall around it. Technically, the only tower we had was the old Tower near the Main Gate, but, through the centuries, the entire grounds came to be called the Gray Tower.

  When we made it to the training grounds, we saw another group of Boetheos already sparring with Hotaru. Some of the teenagers looked like they had gotten a good beating, while others sweated profusely and tried to keep up with Hotaru’s forms. A staunch and well-built Drago Moretti stood just feet away and watched them all from his one good eye. A black eye patch covered the other, and it made me think of the many arrogant trainees who’d try to point out the inadequacy, only to have Drago whip them into submission without even using his magic.

  Drago turned toward me and gave a nod of acknowledgement, and, though I was sure Hotaru spotted me, he continued sparring with a terrified Boetheo. They both used practice swords, and the young man parried the Elite’s incoming thrusts with a grimace on his face. Hotaru disarmed the Boetheo, who promptly yielded, but it didn’t stop the jerk from pushing him to the ground.