The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “Of course,” she said. “Isabella, let’s meet again after lunch.” She rose from her seat and exited the training room.

  When she was out of earshot, Hotaru closed the door and stood in front of it. He glared at me. “How I wish I would’ve strangled you when I had you under me in the general’s house.”

  My heart thumped in my chest, and I prepared a spell in my mind. “I see that your murder spree wasn’t taken too well by the Masters. For how long, exactly, are you stuck on Tower grounds?”

  He crossed his arms and smirked. “Don’t flatter yourself. I only received an admonishment from Master Priya, and only Serafino moved to discipline me, but that’s inconsequential. I’m still designated to be installed as a Master Wizard at the ceremony tonight, unlike your beloved Brande Drahomir.”

  He caught me off guard, and I stammered. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

  “His name has been struck from the list, and he will remain an Elite, for now. There are very serious consequences for aiding the Drifter, even indirectly.”

  For a moment, I thought he was referring to me, but then, if he was, he’d probably be trying to kill me right now. I shook my head. “Brande and my father hate each other. I doubt they’re partners in crime.”

  “But when it comes to you and Brande, it’s a different story, isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for Master Priya to finally pull him away from the task of remaining close to you. Priya has been so blinded by grooming Brande to become the next Head of the Order, that he’s missed the man’s double-dealing ways. I think those times when Brande could’ve helped us kill your father...he held back because of you.” He slipped his hands into his uniform’s coat pockets and came forward. When he saw I had no response, he continued. “I’ve known Brande since he was sixteen. We both arrived here as Boetheos in the same year. He wanted to become a Master Wizard more than anything, but thanks to a selfish little girl, whose only concern is her abomination of a father, Brande will lose his place here.”

  Why the hell should I care what this guy said? He was here to intimidate me, and he knew he could use Brande to do it. However, I did worry sometimes when I enlisted someone’s help, even if he didn’t know the full truth about me, that it would end up costing that person far more than what he had bargained for. Was it really selfish to get other people involved in protecting my father, and ultimately me? Good wizards were putting themselves in harm’s way to Veil me, to obstruct the trackers...and to research about High Councils in the library. Damn. Cliff and Sadik--I shouldn’t have asked them to do that for me. I hoped that Hotaru didn’t know what the two boys were up to.

  “Well,” I said, rising from my seat, “thanks for the lecture. Maybe once the investigation’s over and they see what you’ve done, you’ll find yourself worse off than Brande.”

  If that put any fear in him, he didn’t show it. I walked around the table and shouldered my way past him to get to the door. I had a spell ready in my mind just in case he wanted to try something. When I made it halfway down the hall, I turned to look back once more. He had disappeared.

  I made my way to the general library and found Cliff in one of the smaller study rooms. Instead of Sadik sitting across from him reading ancient tomes, Kiaran Luka accompanied him and had several books spread across their table. I grimaced and thought about how much worse it would be for the professor to find himself in trouble because of me. He was a guest of the Gray Tower, not even a wizard, but just an English professor whose job it was to educate the youngest members of the Order. I stood behind a bookshelf just outside the study room, with sweaty palms, thinking of a way to dismiss them from their research. I paused to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  “...and my mom made me swear on the Bible that I didn’t help set up a Ringer for the horse race. My dad’s bet won us a hundred dollars.”

  Kiaran laughed. “At that point, I’m sure they suspected it was more than mere luck.”

  “Yeah, my dad’s uncle was an Apprentice with the Tower, so he understood. My mom still told us it was cheating, so she said if she ever caught us at the bookie joint again, that we’d get a frying pan to the head!”

  Kiaran wore an amused expression and wrote something into his notebook. “Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I were born a wizard. Your world must be wondrous and beautiful, yet utterly powerful and terrifying at the same time.”

  Cliff sighed. “It’s not all people make it out to be. It didn’t keep my dad from dying. My mom’s barely making ends meet. Maybe if I didn’t come here, I’d be working in a factory right now and helping her out. I woke up this morning wishing I was normal.”

  “What is normal?” Kiaran closed the book and pulled another toward him.

  Cliff gestured toward Kiaran’s neck. “So why do you wear that silver ring on that chain around your neck?”

  Kiaran’s eyebrows shot upward and he pulled out the chain. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

  “Are you married or something?”

  He shook his head. “A long time ago, someone important left this with me. I suppose one day...I’m going to give it to someone special.”

  I stepped away from my hiding spot and joined them. They both greeted me warmly, which made me feel even guiltier. I would have to finish up whatever research I needed done and tell them to just forget about it.

  “It looks like you two are having a good time.” I opened one of the books.

  “Professor Luka’s helping me.” Cliff scribbled down some notes. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Actually, I did. The poor guy had almost fallen on his face in the garden the other day. I doubted he could survive an interrogation. “Thank you for your help. I can finish this myself...I know you both have other things to do.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Kiaran said. “A friend of Bianca’s is a friend of mine.”

  I smiled. “Did you find her a birthday gift?”

  He closed yet another book. “I did. I hope she’ll appreciate it.”

  “Well, it looks like you’ve collected more than enough information. I can do the rest.”

  Cliff yawned and pushed his book aside. “Did you still want me to take the notes to Mr. Casey?”

  “Yes, and then after that, consider yourself relieved of your duties.” Such a shame, these books were boring.

  “You got it, boss.” Cliff mimed a salute.

  “Am I being fired as well?” Kiaran began collecting the books so he could return them to the shelves.

  “Tell Bianca I’ll see her tonight at the installment ceremony,” I said. When Kiaran took the books toward the back, I asked Cliff, “Did Sadik communicate anything to you about the prisoner?”

  “No. Why do you need to see that prisoner?”

  “Whoever it is, he’s not a wizard. He may be a friend.”

  “Be careful, then.”

  “You too, and keep an eye on the professor, make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.”

  I shielded my eyes from the noonday sun as I walked past the training grounds and made a left at the building which housed staff workers and servants. Just beyond that, stood a tiny office which led to the basement-like “holding cells.” When we weren’t in front of guests, we just called them the dungeon, because that’s what they were. A staircase hewn of stone led downward to a fortified door beneath ground level. Behind the door was a large dungeon area divided by walls to make several cells and two large rooms. I was certain such a place wouldn’t pass a safety inspection; it was as old as the Tower. The dungeon held wizards who committed serious infractions or crimes on Tower grounds, and, apparently, non-wizards they thought deserved it.

  I drew in a deep breath and knocked on the office door, but no one answered. Joran must’ve been downstairs, in the cell area. I stepped inside the office and passed Joran’s desk, which had a half-eaten meal sitting on top, and went over to the downward-leading staircase. I thought I heard a muffled voice, and I carefully went down the steps to the fortified
door and pulled it open, hoping it wouldn’t squeak.

  I entered the tiny hall area of the dim dungeon. I clearly heard a man’s voice coming from the next room. I knew I couldn’t just open the door to the next room and walk through, so I went over to the left wall, which ran all the way through the dungeon. We called it the “bone wall” because it was a hollow wall wide enough to fit a person in, and, at one time, human bones were actually found inside. We figured the medieval wizards had been serious about their disciplines and punishments. The bone wall stood in disrepair, and had several holes, but it ran across the entire area and would give me just enough cover to see what went on in the first two large rooms and the actual holding cell area.

  I slipped through and felt a lump in my throat. I steadied my breathing and followed the male voice I heard. When I came upon the first room, I peeped through a hole and finally matched a face with the voice. Father Gabriel stood about fifty feet away, at a granite slab covered with a white cloth, making an offering with his chalice in hand, and speaking in Latin. Cathana Erin knelt just a few feet away, attentively praying. I saw Joran in the corner furthest from them, pacing back and forth and turning his wrist to keep time with his watch. A communion service was the last thing I expected to see in the Tower dungeon, but as long as they were in the first room, it meant that they weren’t with the prisoner.

  I continued through the bone wall and took a quick look at the second room. A bunch of crates and supplies filled up a third of the room, and to the right stood a chair and table. A large black bag lay on the floor near the crates, and a pungent smell hit my nose. I quickened my steps and passed over to where I could see the cells. I peeped through another small hole and saw the prisoner. His clothes were dirty, and the collar of his shirt was soiled with blood. He had dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale and haggard. As if the silence of the holding area had been too much to bear, he made a loud cry and rattled his cell bars.

  “Hey, let me out of here! I’m not a wizard...I’m an American. I know you bastards have ambassadors here, so let me speak to mine!”

  I waited to see if anyone would come. It didn’t seem as if anyone heard him. I raised my head and blew a whistle through the hole. At first he jolted and glanced around, but then he calmed down and spoke.

  “H-hello? Hello?”

  “Hey, why did they bring you here?” I asked.

  He backed away from the bars and looked right and left. “Who’s there?”

  I cleared my voice. “I’m over here, behind the wall.”

  He stared right at the peephole. “My name’s Gordon. Geez, don’t tell me they stuck you in there.”

  “Hardly. Why did they drag you in here?”

  “I’m just a private investigator.”

  “Is Gordon your real name?”

  He snorted. “Excuse me if I’m not exactly the sharing type, since you psycho wizards have me locked up in here.”

  “Listen, buddy, I may be your only chance to get out of here. What’s your connection to Major Carson George of the U.S. Army?”

  “I’m one of General Cambria’s guys. I delivered messages. Sometimes I kept an eye on the trackers--looks like they were also keeping an eye on me.”

  I thought of Henry Smith, who was also one of Cambria’s operatives. I didn’t know what the trackers planned to do with Gordon, but I didn’t want to see him end up like Henry. “Gordon, tell me your real name. If I’m going to help you, I need to know who you are.”

  “Aw, hell...” He backed away from the bars. “This is a trap, isn’t it? Listen lady, I just delivered messages, I never read them, and it was just a way to earn a few hundred dollars on the side. You don’t have to do anything for me, just make sure the U.S. ambassador knows I’m down here.”

  He started ranting again and pulling at the bars. I was about to tell him to put a sock in it, but Joran came stalking into the holding area with a metal rod in his hand. He swung the rod and cracked Gordon’s knuckles. The man grunted and pulled his hands away from the bars.

  “What did I tell you about all that whining and moaning? Shut up!”

  Gordon nursed his swollen right hand. “Is this the way you treat guests? I need food and water--ever hear of those?”

  “You’ll get my hands around your throat if I hear another word out of you.”

  Suddenly, Joran froze. He inclined his head in my direction. I swore he could see through the bone wall and detect exactly where I was hiding. I slowly crouched, but the wall crumbled and dust went flying in my face and up my nostrils. I rose to my feet as fast as I could when I saw Joran closing in. He grabbed me by the arm, but I kicked him in the groin and broke free.

  He made a jab with his right arm and I blocked it, reciprocating with a right hook. He pulled back to avoid the punch and then used telekinesis to send me flying backward. I hit the bone wall with a thud, and my head and back throbbed with burning pain. Before I could stand or even make another move, darkness fell over my eyes as he blinded me with a spell. If that weren’t enough, he caused my stomach to involuntarily clench and rumble, and I vomited.

  I coughed and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “I yield, Joran.”

  He lifted the blinding spell and then glared at me. I had learned a long time ago, that if I ever fought anyone trained by Dr. Lan, and if I weren’t coming out on the winning side, to immediately yield. The Master Wizard always instilled in his Apprentices and Elites a type of honor system where dealing critical or lethal blows were the absolute last resort. I was neither trained in, nor abided by, such a system, but I was glad Joran did.

  “What do you think you’re doing down here?” Joran asked.

  I stood, my legs almost collapsing beneath me. “I needed to speak with him.” I jabbed a finger in Gordon’s direction. Gordon’s gaze went between Joran and me, and he probably wondered if we were going to fight again.

  Joran said in his gruff voice, “Let the interrogator speak with him. You have no business down here.”

  “I just needed to know if he knew anything...about my father.”

  Joran’s eyes narrowed. “That’s none of my concern. Now get out of here, before I tell Master Ovidio what you’re up to.”

  Just then, Cathana and Father Gabriel entered from the adjacent room. They both seemed surprised to see me. Gordon took it as another opportunity to solicit help.

  “Hey...are you a priest? I went to Catholic school for a few years. Padre, help me.”

  Father Gabriel gave Joran a critical eye when he saw the pitiful state Gordon was in. “I thought I heard a voice back here. Who is he, that you would lock him up like this?”

  “Master Priya brought him in,” Joran said. “Someone put a seal on his mind, which means he’s got something to hide.”

  Gabriel reached through the bars and held out his hand. When Gordon touched him, the dark circles beneath his eyes faded and returned to a healthy color. His skin took on a fresh and supple look.

  “This man is not a wizard. Certainly such harsh conditions are uncalled for.” Gabriel glanced at Joran again, the disapproval apparent in his eyes.

  Joran sneered and faced Cathana. “Cat, I’ve tolerated your priest doing his church ceremony down here. Now he’s going to tell me how to do my job?”

  “Can I get some water?” Gordon asked Father Gabriel.

  Joran looked ready to pounce on Gordon, but Cathana gazed at him with a silent plea, and he retracted. “There’s a pitcher of water and a tin cup over at that table in the corner,” he said.

  I pushed my hair out of my eyes and wiped my face with my sleeve. “You guys have...church down here often?”

  Father Gabriel brought the cup of water over and lifted it to Gordon’s lips. The man clung to the cup with his good hand. Gabriel faced me. “The Tower respects religion, but would not approve of any church establishing itself here.”

  “So that’s why the Vatican sent you,” I said in a triumphant tone.

  Gabriel answered, “In a sense...yes
.”

  “Well I’m not converting,” Joran grumbled.

  Cathana spoke up. “If anything, the destruction and evil we see in this world today only confirms that we need something greater to strive toward. Father Gabriel is not here to force anyone to believe as we do, but to those who wish to listen, we offer a light in the darkness.”

  In other words, Father Gabriel was a missionary to the Gray Tower, and if anyone outside the dungeon knew, he’d probably be sharing a cell with Gordon. “Well, I’ve got to hand it to you Catholics--you really take being universal seriously. Good luck with that.”

  I limped toward the door with a sigh, but Joran placed his hand on my shoulder. “Before you leave, I want to make it clear that anything you’ve seen here today is between us and no one else. I’m doing this for Cathana, because it’s better than leaving Tower grounds trying to find a church or chapel.”

  I shoved his hand away. “Fine, as long as you don’t tell Master Ovidio I came down here to speak with Gordon.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Then good day, Apprentice.”

  “Go to hell,” I said. I stumbled through the doorway before he decided to smack me for being insolent. When I exited the room, I turned and pressed myself against the wall, spying on them once more through a hole. I really wanted to work some body magic to heal my aching limbs, but I didn’t want the other wizards’ senses to go off.

  “I should go,” Father Gabriel said. “I will speak with you later, Cathana. Goodbye, Joran.”

  The other man grunted in response, and Gabriel came my way. I swiveled and hid behind a large supply crate and waited until he left through the next room and up the stairwell. I was right next to that large black bag, and the pungent smell that hit me earlier became even stronger. I bent over and carefully opened the bag, and nearly cried from shock.

  A dead Black Wolf.

  It had three eyes and a long oval head. The skin looked dark and scaly, as if it had been burned. This must’ve been what the Gatekeeper had asked Anastasio and his security team to come and see last night. I closed the bag with shaking hands and went back over to the peephole.