The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  Cathana waited patiently at my side. “Master Moreau, is there anything else you’ll be needing?”

  He looked up and adjusted his spectacles. “That will be all, Master Erin. Please, rest a while in the guest wing. We have a long day ahead of us.”

  She gave my hand an encouraging squeeze and departed, closing the door behind her.

  Master Moreau rose from his seat and came around, sitting on the edge of his desk and observing me. “So, you’re the Drifter?”

  I didn’t know whether to answer with a sense of pride or to hit back with a sarcastic remark. “Yes, Master Moreau.”

  “Is it true that you know how to close rifts? And that you can defeat Octavian?”

  “I can close rifts, but as for Octavian--all I can say is that I’ll do everything I can to bring him down...” I paused, feeling the faint stir of magic, and then quickly erected a protective shield.

  Master Moreau pulled his power away. “You’ll have to respond faster than that if you’re going to fight the Cruenti Master. If he even decides to engage you in conversation, rest assured he’ll be weaving a spell at the same time.”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I wasn’t in the mood for tests. “Are we done here?”

  “Almost,” he said, rubbing his chin and sizing me up. “Have we lost Master Allan Skye?”

  I shrugged, reluctant to give a definitive answer. “I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of giving up on him, but...I don’t trust him anymore.”

  “Well, the fact that he’s not here and running wild is answer enough, I suppose. If we can’t capture and subdue him, then I’m afraid we must end him.”

  I felt a cold heavy rock in the pit of my stomach at those words. I changed the subject. “Master, I was told that allies of ours had arrived?” I didn’t know what to call the secret Vatican-trained army. I never thought I’d be making use of one, either.

  He nodded, his lips curving into a smile. “It seems your father has worked tirelessly toward this moment.”

  I didn’t know whether or not it was a compliment, but I didn’t like Moreau’s cryptic smile. “Can I see them?”

  He shifted and poured himself a glass of Scotch. “They’re in the basement area. We’ve cleared the storage room down there to let them train. I’m afraid I can’t house any more of your Vatican army without drawing the ire of the local police. You must be careful--they’d burn down this embassy and send us packing if it meant staying out of the war. I’ve made arrangements for the others to stay a few houses down, owned by an Order member.”

  I gave a slight bow. “Thank you.”

  He flashed that cryptic smile again. “No...thank you.”

  I went down the dim stairwell leading to the lower basement area and walked down the narrow hallway. I stopped at the last door on the right. The metal door creaked as I opened it and slipped inside; the bright light from the storage room caused me to squint. About thirty men and women, like the ones I saw in Trent, were gathered in the room and were training in small groups. Some were drenched with sweat from swordplay and martial arts, while others sparred with each other by casting spells.

  Those with alchemical abilities cast strong spells of Air or Fire, and elementals countered with Water. The nature wizards weakened their sparring partners’ entire bodies without having to deal a single blow, and the mentalists would both teach and practice their mental defenses. Observing their methods, I could see which techniques they had “borrowed” from the Gray Tower, and which ones they had invented on their own.

  When they noticed me, they all quickly assembled themselves across from me. I gave the group a nod. “Thank you all for coming.” I clasped my hands together, trying to think of what else to say. “I know we may have...different backgrounds, but I’m sure that we can work together to defeat Octavian and the Black Wolves--once and for all.”

  Several of them nodded in agreement, some even grinned, while the rest stood stone-faced and listening intently, as if I were already issuing orders.

  A young man sitting at the corner desk across from Brande, stood and gestured to the group. “Let’s break for a while. We’ll train more after lunch.”

  They spoke in excited, but hushed voices as they shuffled toward the exit. When they had all gone, I went over to the far left corner, where Brande and the young man were. Brande’s tired eyes lit up, and he rose to his feet, gesturing for me to take his seat. I approached and wrapped my arms around his neck, and he lowered his head and pressed his lips against mine.

  The young man sitting on the other side of the desk cleared his throat. “Good morning, Isabella. I’m Thierry.” He held out his calloused, strong hand.

  Brande released me and I leaned over to shake Thierry’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Are you in charge of this group?”

  He nodded. “We’ll be ready when you are.”

  “No offense, but how many of your Vatican warriors have actually encountered warlocks? Or Black Wolves?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Well, I’m sure you’ve already seen Father Gabriel, and most of us have been training since we were children. It’s similar to the Gray Tower.”

  “Hmm, I wonder why.”

  He laughed. “We have very skilled teachers. In fact, your father trained me.”

  I smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. One of my father’s trainees was able to jump out of a third story window and dispose of Cruenti warlocks in less than five minutes.”

  Thierry nodded and gave me a shrewd look. “So you’ve met Mr. Urbano.” He stepped toward the center of the room. “If you need further demonstration, I’d be happy to spar with you. What do you say, Drifter?”

  I smirked. “All right, let’s see how many moves you’ve stolen from the Gray Tower.”

  I walked forward a few paces and positioned myself. I reached out with my senses to read Thierry, and caught the scent of nature magic clinging to him. He struck first with a blinding spell. It came at me like a flash, and I swerved and avoided it, casting a Circle of Protection. With a gesture, I sent a large flame of Zaman’s Fire toward his feet, though I was careful not to actually hit him with it--the Fire hurt even elementals. He jumped backward and cast a Circle of Healing, which absorbed flames and transferred healing properties to the person casting it.

  My Circle of Protection faded, and I felt a pop in my ear. My balance was thrown off, and the room spun. I fell into a roll and evaded Thierry’s incoming strike. I cast a Circadian Circle over him, and with a precise tug I caused him to sway and fall. Both of us were disoriented, but we rose to our feet. I worked through my Circadian Circle, using it to hone in on his body’s circadian rhythm. I remembered what Izsak had said about our internal clocks, and how our bodies responded to time. I poured the energy from the Circadian Circle into Thierry’s brain to trigger a fainting spell. He countered with a spell of his own, manipulating the balance of his body to resist falling unconscious.

  We both backed off, heaving and readying more spells.

  Brande chimed in. “It looks like a nature wizard is a perfect sparring partner when it comes to using your Circadian Circles.”

  I drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Well done.”

  Thierry cracked a smile. “So, did I pass the test?”

  “I won’t question your abilities. That’s for sure.”

  Brande approached. “Thierry and I were just coming to an agreement about who goes with whom.”

  Thierry’s expression became more serious. “We’re splitting into groups. He’s taking half of my wizards, along with some Gray Tower wizards.”

  Brande added, “There are over sixty wizards staying at the mansion down the street. They’re being hosted by a wizard named Victor, a member of the Order.”

  I gasped. “That’s...great news. That means we have over a hundred now.”

  “And more are coming every day.” Brande gave me a reassuring gaze.

  “Okay, who’s in my group? Or is the almighty Drifter expected to jump into the fray alone?”<
br />
  Brande sighed. “I spoke with your father, and he said you’ll be with him and a group of his choice.”

  I cringed, imagining my father saying that to Brande ten times more rudely than necessary. “I see...well, have you had a chance to rest or eat?” I glanced at both of them. Brande had apparently been sparring with the group. A damp “V” darkened the front of his short-sleeved shirt which perfectly clung to his muscular torso.

  “I’m well-rested and fed,” Thierry rose to his feet. He stared at Brande. “But it seems you need both.”

  Brande shook his head. “I’m fine. I’ve got work to do.”

  Thierry gave him a critical eye. “If I were trained by the Tower, I believe you would classify me as a nature wizard. I can feel the exhaustion rolling off you. Get some rest.”

  I faced Brande. “He’s right. You haven’t slept since we left Signor Alighieri’s house. Am I going to have to force you into bed?”

  Brande smirked, and I crossed my arms--he seriously needed to rest. I heard the door open behind us. I turned and saw my father step in. He gave Thierry and Brande a nod and then faced me. “Isabella, we have Joshua Morton on the phone.”

  “All right.” I gave Brande a warning look before following my dad out of the room and up the staircase toward the main floor.

  “How are you?” He fell into step with me.

  I slowed my pace as we walked down the hall toward the reception area. I stiffened, thinking of what Master Skye had told me. “I feel ill with worry sometimes. Is it horrible for me to wish I was anyone other than who I am?”

  He reached for my hand and gave me an assuring smile. “It’s perfectly normal. At times, I felt the same way, when I had to leave you, and your mother, and brother. But then it wouldn’t be sacrifice if it were easy, now would it?”

  We mounted up the steps that led to Moreau’s warded office door. “What else is supposed to be sacrificed, Dad?” I pulled my hand from his grasp and studied his face.

  As expected, without a single expression of outrage or quizzical what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about, he said, “You’re still preoccupied with the doorway.”

  “Gee, you think? Tell me what happens when I step through that door.”

  He knocked three times on Moreau’s door, and the ward lowered. He held my gaze. “I don’t know for sure.”

  I wondered if that’s what scared him--not knowing, not being able to anticipate or project. I placed my hand on the doorknob and paused. “Then we’re going to have to start with what you do know. We’ll discuss this after we’ve talked with MI6.”

  I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Master Moreau sat at the edge of his desk and cradled the phone between his shoulder and chin. He gestured toward me and passed the receiver to me. I drew in a deep breath and spoke. “Joshua, it’s Isabella.”

  “It’s good to hear your voice,” he said.

  “Thank you.” My own voice faltered. That was the last thing I expected to hear from him. When I last saw Joshua Morton, he was shoving a letter in my face and accusing me of leaking secrets to the Nazis. He suspended me and had MI6 agents tail me just to get his point across.

  “Isabella...Ian made it. He’s awake.”

  My eyes watered and I turned away from Moreau and my father. “Is he okay?” I asked in an almost hushed voice.

  “He’s still weak, but he’s conscious. The first thing he told us was that you weren’t involved with the leaks and that it was all him.”

  “What’s going to happen with him?” I blurted out the question, though I feared the answer. It hurt to think that Ian, who was like a brother to me, got blackmailed into passing along secrets to Cruenti warlocks. He tried to do the right thing by confessing and turning himself in, but then before the interrogation even started, he poisoned himself and ended up in a coma. His actions were inexcusable, but I didn’t want Ian to remain in a coma or slip into death. Not like that.

  Joshua’s voice held a touch of gentleness. “I don’t know what the authorities will decide, but I think we have another matter on our hands.”

  I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and once again faced Moreau and my dad. I steadied my voice. “How soon can we get the talisman?” As a Master Enchanter, Moreau would be the most qualified to properly activate the charm that could teleport us near Octavian’s lair.

  “I’m afraid a complication arose.”

  “What is it?”

  “While I can assure you that your courier is on his way to Switzerland with the talisman, so are a group of wizards calling themselves the official Gray Tower in Exile.”

  “What?” I switched sides with the phone receiver. “Where are they coming from?

  “Sweden. They said they’re going to take possession of the talisman and use it to find the Den.”

  “But you’re sending the talisman to us. The decision’s been made.”

  “Precisely, but when we informed the Tower in Exile--”

  “Hey, we’re the Tower too. Who exactly are these wizards?”

  “I can tell you that several of them are unhappy with you. They call you the Drifter, and claim that you’re expelled from the Order and don’t have a claim to the talisman. Have you heard of Master Kasper Zurek and Samson Grom?”

  “I’ve run into them once or twice at the Tower when I trained there. Why?”

  “These two blokes say they’re the last of the trackers. Does that mean anything to you?”

  My heart froze in my chest. Seven trackers had been dispatched to capture and slay the Drifter, and they were bound by oath to never reveal one another’s identity. I had found out five of them, which included Brande and Mehara, but the remaining two never surfaced--until now. “Joshua, who’s the courier? How close is he?”

  He sighed. “I’m the courier, and I’ve just landed in Vichy, France. I should arrive by car in Geneva this evening.”

  Okay, maybe he wanted to make it up to me for being a distrustful jerk, but stepping into the middle of this was too dangerous. “Why do I get the feeling that you haven’t told your sister about this? You really couldn’t send someone else as the courier?”

  “The directors wanted one of their own to deliver it--a non-wizard, and someone familiar with the people and politics of the Gray Tower. And, you bloody well won’t say a word to Jane about this.”

  “What will you do if you run into one of the other wizards--the ones who are against me? What if you come across a warlock?”

  “I’ve got a gun with iron-tipped bullets and an imperium collar on me. I’ll blend in and stay low. Only you and the heads of MI6 know I’m the courier.”

  “Just hurry up and get here, Joshua.”

  “See you, then.”

  “Good luck.” I hung up and explained to Moreau and my dad what happened.

  “I’ll strengthen the wards around the mansion,” Moreau said. “They chose a rather inopportune time to create a schism.” He turned on his heel and left the office.

  My father closed the door behind him and approached. His face looked even more aged and tired since I last saw him, just weeks ago. “Do you still want to know about the tests and the doorway?”

  “I need to know the truth,” I said with a firm nod. I needed to know that I wasn’t spared this whole time only to be a sacrificial lamb at his or anyone else’s appointed hour.

  “The tests were meant to gauge your strength, and what you could do and not do with your powers.”

  “Okay, I can bring forth Fire, close rifts, do the pulsations and ripples to effect time, and cast the Circadian Circle. Am I missing anything?”

  My father gazed at me, and it reminded me of the sad expression he wore when he told me that I would have to step through the blue door. “You were a child, and couldn’t understand all the abstract concepts involved with stepping in and out of time, so we helped you to conceptualize it as a doorway. You step through, you can go forward in time, backward, whenever you wanted.”

  “Not that blue door. There was so
mething wrong with that one.”

  He nodded. “It was taken from a popular children’s book--The Blue Door. It was our failsafe.”

  The room suddenly chilled. “You’re going to have to elaborate, Dad. A failsafe for what?”

  When he averted his gaze, I knew this was going to be one hell of an answer. “We prepared for the possibility of your Drifter abilities overpowering you, of you harming yourself or others with your powers...even all the way down to the likely event of your mind and will being overpowered.”

  I rubbed my right temple and fought an oncoming headache. “Stop sounding so damned scientific and sterile about it. What you’re basically saying is that if I didn’t have the strength to control my powers, or if someone took control of me, that you trained me to pull up that doorway so I could step through and destroy myself. And, you screwed up my mind so that I’d do it without even knowing or remembering why.”

  He lowered his gaze. “That was the price I paid for Ekwueme agreeing to help us. But...it will never come to that. I promise you--”

  I snorted. “Please, spare me your promises.” I shoved past him and headed for the door.

  “Isabella...”

  I opened the door and swung around to face him. “And to think, all these years...Mom was right.” I turned away and slammed the door shut, rushing downstairs and feeling numb with anger.

  “Miss George, where are you going?” the receptionist asked.

  “I need some fresh air.” I headed out the front entrance, glared at the two Elite wizards standing guard, making a right turn down the street.