The Tower's Alchemist (The Gray Tower Trilogy, #1)

by Alesha Escobar

CHAPTER SIX

  I awoke to the sound of birds chirping. I squinted my eyes at the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, and smiled to myself, feeling immense relief for having my sight back. I brushed my fingers across the bandage that had been applied to my wound, and although it felt a little sore, I could tell that the jade powder had once again healed me. I didn’t know how much remained, but it would take weeks for me to obtain more.

  I was in my guestroom at Renée’s, and strangely felt a sense of safety and comfort despite the danger that lurked outside in the city. This room felt like my little sanctuary, and for this moment at least, I just lay in blissful silence.

  Then, the thought of that Cruenti last night crept upon me and made me shudder. I began wondering how my cover was blown in the first place. Now I would have to change my codename, and even wear disguises. If I pulled out now and asked the Maquis to get me across the border to Spain, it certainly wouldn’t be shameful. However, I didn’t want to fail at what I intended to be my last mission, and I certainly didn’t want to feel like I’ve belittled the sacrifices of others.

  I also didn’t want to return to Ian empty-handed so that Joshua Morton from MI6 could berate us. Besides, if I took care of Veit Heilwig and his chemical weapons, I could finally retire like I wanted to.

  I shifted when I heard a knock at the door. “Come in.”

  Renée came in with a bowl of soup. “How are you?”

  “Better...I guess.” I sat up and took the bowl from her.

  “You were in and out of consciousness since last night. I was worried.”

  As soon as she said that, my head throbbed and my body tensed. All I wanted was to fall back asleep again. “Where’s Drake?”

  “He said he would try to find his Maquisard contacts. He told me he’d be back before dinner.”

  My vision hazed, and my eyelids grew heavy. “I think I’m going to rest some more. Can you wake me when he comes?”

  I felt a delicate hand on my sweaty forehead, and then on my cheek. The door opened and closed, and then I was asleep. It was a deep and quiet rest, but in some eerie way I felt like I was lost in nothingness. I wondered if this was what death felt like. I must’ve lain half-dreaming and seeing grays until I finally had another nightmarish memory of that Cruenti. I swung and tossed, fighting an enemy that wasn’t there, until I ended up accidentally kicking Ken, who was sprawled at the foot of the bed. He shifted and groaned.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked. I sat up, quelling my irritation at not being woken earlier, at least he was here and not out in the streets. It was dark again.

  “Don’t ask.” He pulled himself toward me and laid his head on the pillow next to me. His swollen black eye was barely noticeable. It must’ve really hurt, or else he wouldn’t have used the jade powder.

  “Did you finish off the powder?” I caressed his swollen eye with my thumb.

  “There’s a pinch left. I put it away for you.”

  “Keep it. You’ve earned it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did you find your contacts?” I pulled my legs under me and began playing with my ring. I felt trapped, like I couldn’t do anything or go anywhere. Now that the enemy had targeted me I would have agents like Karsten waiting for me on every corner, ready to arrest and torture me before finally handing me over to a firing squad—or worse, to Dr. Meier’s experimental program.

  “Yes, I found them, but we have to be careful.” His serious look made it seem like he was really saying I needed to be careful. “I still have to finish my assignment with OSS and can’t leave just yet.”

  I nodded. “I also have to stay. I can’t go back to London without finishing what I started.”

  “You’ve been out all day.”

  I frowned. My mind was still a little murky. “What day is it?”

  “It’s the twenty first...happy birthday.”

  “Some birthday.” My stomach ached with hunger.

  “At least we’re alive.” He propped himself up on his right elbow and began slowly planting a trail of kisses up my arm until he reached my shoulder. I leaned in to kiss him back, but a knock at the door made us pause.

  “Giving you a head start, mes amis.” A high-pitched cackle resonated from behind the door. Ken and I both sighed.

  “Come in, Penn.” Ken turned on the lamp and went to open the door for him. Renée was on Penn’s heels, carrying a tray of bread and fruit with a small carafe of juice and a couple of glasses.

  “Good evening!” Penn took the tray from Renée and steadied it on the bed next to me. He slid onto the bed and helped himself to a slice of bread. “We could use an extra glass, and some wine...and cheese, if you have any, Renée.”

  She glared at him before turning and heading down the hallway. Penn regarded Ken with a smile and offered me a glass of juice.

  “Thank you.” I gulped it down.

  “Jasmine sent you?” Ken grabbed his shirt which was hanging on the bedpost and threw it on.

  “She’s upset about what happened down at Éclat. The club won’t be able to reopen for another couple of weeks and she doesn’t do business at home. So, if you have any further messages, give them to me now.” He grabbed a few grapes and plopped them into his mouth. He wiped his hand on his vest and pulled a cigarette lighter from his pocket.

  “For me?” Ken asked.

  Penn motioned for him to take it. “I believe you’ll be able to find what you’re looking for once you decode the cipher. The Americans picked up the signal by RADAR.”

  I felt a dull ache in my side and got up. Renée made a soothing tea in the kitchen which I suspected she bought from a Practitioner. Those types of teas were the best—and sometimes the most dangerous. There were plenty of charlatans masquerading as healers “certified by the Gray Tower” who put God-knew-what into those mixes. Anyhow, I could vouch for the fact that you didn’t leave the Gray Tower with a certificate. As I stepped out into the hallway, I heard Ken growl in frustration.

  “Dammit, Penn. This isn’t necessarily my area of expertise...I can barely decipher this crap.”

  I laughed to myself when I heard Penn retort, “What do I look like, a spy dictionary? Get your Maquisard friends to help break the code.”

  I made my way toward the kitchen and faintly heard Ken say, “Great, now I’ll have to go out looking for my contacts. If I get shot or obliterated by a warlock, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

  I met Renée in the kitchen. She had the wine bottle in one hand and slices of cheese on a plate in the other. I thanked her for her foresight when she gestured toward a hot cup of tea sitting on the counter. I grabbed the drink and headed back toward the guest room, quickly running a hand through my hair and imagining what I must’ve looked like. I came back in and sat on the bed, eyeing the plate of bread that had just a few slices left.

  “Did Jasmine leave anything for me?” I swatted Penn’s hand when I saw him reach for another slice of bread. I took it for myself.

  “Give me three or four days. Ever since your little spat, there have been increased measures to guard against counterfeit papers. This morning they machine-gunned an entire post office full of people just to send us a message. I’ll be lucky if I’m even able to accomplish this.”

  Renée offered each of us some wine and a single slice of cheese. “I apologize, but...you know, the rationing.”

  We accepted with thanks, and once Penn had his fill of wine, he bade us goodbye and set out to do his work. I kept coming up with excuses for Ken to stay, but we both knew that he had his assignment to complete and I had mine. As he left to go meet his Maquisard contacts in Mantes, I realized with frustration that this was why a stable romance with him wouldn’t work: there was no stability to be had. We would spend days together and then not see each other for weeks; the closest we ever got to having a real date was dinner in an Egyptian bar which devolved into a gunfight with criminals.

  If it weren’t for our circumstances, and if it weren’t for our o
bligations to SOE and OSS, I could see myself with him, and accepting his proposal. Then, like Jane Lewis, I could wear my diamond ring and catch up on Woman’s Weekly, all the while glowing with joy. For now, I settled for flirtatious banter, stolen kisses, and exchanging reluctant goodbyes.

  However, this time, as we parted ways, a nagging question burned in my mind: Why did he tell Penn he was going to find his Maquisard contacts when he had already done so?