The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “Thank you.” I smiled. “I almost forgot about it.”

  “I should be thanking you.” His gray eyes looked tired, and his skin was unusually pale, especially in contrast to his dark hair. He seemed to exert much of his energy just to sit upright.

  “Consider us even.” I patted his freshly shaven cheek.

  “I...want to help you and your father.”

  I gave him a dubious glance. Although it must’ve taken a lot for him to stand up to Leto Priya, I didn’t think he was ready for this—and, Father Gabriel’s warning also came to mind. “Could you really go against the Gray Tower?”

  He reached for my hand. “When we were in the park that day...”

  “The Order isn’t going to let you go, not without a fight, and I’m already in the middle of a scrap with them. For now at least, you should go.”

  “But you asked me to choose a side.”

  “And you were willing to risk your life for me. That’s all I need to know. Do what’s necessary at the Gray Tower, and keep your eyes and ears open.”

  His eyes told me otherwise, but he said in a firm voice “I will.”

  “Take this,” I gently pulled my hand from his grasp, took off my Agate stone ring and handed it to him.

  “Don’t you need it?”

  “If you ever need to get a message to me, then send the ring and I’ll know it was you.”

  “Will you ever come back to the Tower?”

  “I won’t say it’s impossible.”

  “Then, if you need me for...”

  “I know.” I smiled at him as he stood and headed toward the house, but I called out to him when I remembered something. “Could I ask you a question...before you go?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s about Jasmine’s side operation, with hiding and transporting people. You’re the one who’s been helping her, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “How did you know?”

  “I’ve talked to her about you, but I had never introduced you to each other. When we came here from Vélizy, she knew you on sight and greeted you by name.”

  He smiled a little. “Imagine that...I actually did something on my own without the Gray Tower getting involved.”

  He went back inside to say his goodbyes to Jasmine and Penn, and I couldn’t help but eye him with even more admiration than before. Perhaps there were a few more things I needed to learn about him. Though I believed he sincerely wanted to help me, it didn’t mean his loyalties weren’t divided, and that’s what concerned me.

  In some ways even I still felt entangled with the Tower. It seemed no matter how much I disliked the Order and tried to keep my distance from it, the Tower still somehow found its way into my life and showed me why I needed it. If I were going to be of use to my father and even go against the Black Wolves, I would need to be more than just an Apprentice. But would the Gray Tower even welcome me back, now that I knew who my father was? And if I were invited to return, would it only be to use me as a pawn?

  My father said I could possibly train outside the Tower, but I doubted he could teach me much while on the run, and at some point he’d have to find an Elite or Master Alchemist to take over the advanced stages. I grabbed Heilwig’s diary and opened it, wondering if in fact the key to my training was inside.

  The first thing I noticed were a few pages of notes written in Turkish. An odd map opened across the next two pages—if I could call it a map. It had no obvious real world correspondence and looked like a layout of the constellations in the sky. There was a thirteen-sign zodiac, names like Eratosthenes and Ophiuchus, a prominent eight-spoke wheel, and the number 23.5 written near the center of the page.

  I wasn’t even sure where to begin with the names and symbols, and I had never studied Turkish, so I would have to find a way to interpret the text. However, I did go into the house and grab a pen from the kitchen so I could write down in one of the margins, “Ottoman Empire?” since I remembered that people spoke Turkish there, and my father had gone there before he disappeared.

  I went into the living room and settled on Jasmine’s plush sofa, ready to take more notes and continue reading. I could hear the rumble of a car engine outside, and Jasmine speaking in a singsong voice. I curled up with the diary in my lap, releasing a slow breath when I turned the next page and saw that Veit had switched over to English. My name was written in large red letters, which intrigued me, but when I read his instructions to cast a Locus Circle, my fascination turned into fear.

  A Locus Circle would help me build a memory palace, a dream-like state that I would step into in order to view my memories. But what could be so deeply hidden in there that Veit would be crazy enough to have me do this? Sometimes Locus Circles blurred the line between dreams and memories—and nightmares. Many wizards have stepped into these only to end up trapped in their own psychological prisons, driven mad, while others’ bodies gave out on them because of the stress or fear. Even in the Gray Tower, you had to be given special permission to cast this spell.

  I stopped right there, conflicted over whether or not I should go any further. Even though Veit had died helping my father and me, I didn’t think he would want me to hurt myself just to understand everything in his diary. My shoulders tightened and I felt a lump in my throat. I set the diary on the coffee table and decided I’d wait to ask my father about this. The thought of the Locus Circle made a cold shudder creep down my arms, but I threw it off. I shoved the diary into one of my bags when I heard Adelaide’s car horn blaring. It was time to go.

  I caught Jasmine and Penn coming in from the front. I embraced both of them with a fierce hug. “Goodbye, I’ll miss you.”

  Jasmine smiled at me. “You know you can visit any time, right? And, I mean any time.”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  “For you,” Penn handed me a new passport. Once again, I would have to go by another name.

  I thanked them for everything they’d done for me, and I gave them one final reminder to alert SOE that I was headed back, and that an escort should meet me in Portsmouth. It would probably be Richard, since he split his duties between piloting and escorting SOE agents at the behest of the Royal Air Force. After I gathered my belongings, I got into the car and took off with Adelaide.

  Instead of the usual route an SOE agent would have to take in order to make it back to London, I had to take the long way around. Adelaide drove me across the French-Spanish border, and toward the port city of Bilbao in Spain. The passport Penn had obtained for me was under the name Angela Beryl, and I looked through the document and noting its basic information, just in case any questions arose, though I doubted I’d be interrogated by anyone since Spain was neutral territory. I thought of Ernest and Lucien, and had a fleeting notion to find out where they were and visit them. However, I dismissed the idea, knowing I should return to London as soon as I could.

  We made it to Bilbao just after sunset. I would have to wait until morning to board the ferry that would take me across the English Channel. My pockets were empty, but Adelaide had some Spanish pesetas in her purse and suggested we try the local inn. As we exited the car, a tall man with salt and pepper hair, who looked quite fit, greeted us.

  “Can I help you with anything?” he asked in Spanish.

  “We’re looking for a room,” Adelaide said. “Just a night’s stay. How much does it cost?”

  “The owner is my friend. Wait here, let me ask for you.” He shook our hands. “My name is Sandalio.”

  I introduced myself as Angela, and Adelaide stuck with her codename. I told him we were sisters. When Sandalio turned back toward the inn’s entrance and was out of earshot, Adelaide said to me, “He’s handsome!”

  I grinned and elbowed her, but then straightened my expression when Sandalio returned with the owner in tow. “This is Antonio.”

  The not-quite-fit inn owner smiled at us through his yellow mustache. “Sandalio told me you wanted to stay at the inn, but I’m afraid I’ve just accepted the last customer for
the evening. There are no more vacancies.”

  Adelaide frowned, raking a nervous hand through her soft brown hair. Just seeing her do that made me anxious. I wasn’t too keen on sleeping in the car, so I asked, “Is there anyone in town with an extra room? We can pay.”

  Antonio gestured toward his friend. “Sometimes Sandalio rents his spare room when he needs extra money.”

  Adelaide shook her head. “What about—”

  “Don’t worry.” He laughed and slapped Sandalio on the back. “He’s just a fisherman who helps out with maintenance at the inn sometimes. He lives a few blocks away with his wife and three children. I wouldn’t send you to a scoundrel’s house.”

  Sandalio spoke up. “If you’d like, I can show you to another inn, or a hotel.”

  I glanced at Adelaide. She looked a little disappointed to hear Sandalio had a wife. “I think Adelaide and I will go to your home...if you don’t mind.”

  Sandalio smiled. “Not at all. Ofelia and the children are there now, so I’ll call her and let her know to expect you. I’ll be there shortly; I was just finishing some repairs inside the inn.”

  We thanked him and followed his directions down to his place. He lived on the top floor of a six-story apartment building which allowed access to a comfortable terrace on the roof. When we arrived, we agreed to leave everything in the car except our toiletries, and I sealed the vehicle shut with a spell to protect the items inside.

  Adelaide and I arrived just in time for dinner. After a quick wash in their tiny bathroom, we gladly accepted Ofelia’s invitation to sit at their table. After a half hour, Sandalio came in with his toolbox and set it by the door. He greeted us, gave Ofelia a tender kiss, then sat down to enjoy his plate.

  “Have you ladies been to Spain before?” Sandalio asked.

  “Adelaide has,” I said. “I think I would be lost around here without her.”

  Ofelia smiled. “Well, hopefully your studies at the University of Paris can continue. I think it’s nice that you both have each other.”

  “When I was young, I traveled the world as well.” Sandalio grabbed a pitcher of water sitting on the table and filled our cups.

  “Then he met me, and it was all over!” Ofelia chuckled.

  “How long have you two been married?” Adelaide asked, watching the two young boys and their older sister at the other end of the table.

  “Has it been ten years, Ofelia?” he asked.

  “Eight...you see, for men it passes by slowly.” She smirked and headed over to the children, bribing them with sweets so that they’d eat everything off their plates.

  After we finished our modest meal of fried fish and vegetable soup, Adelaide and I offered to do dishes and helped Ofelia put the children to bed. When we saw all the care Ofelia took to save any scraps, to make sure all the children ate well before she even fed herself, and—without rest— begin mending and sewing the family’s clothing, we felt guilty that we couldn’t offer more money for our night’s stay.

  “Ofelia,” Sandalio said as he kissed her on her forehead. “You’re going to pass out in the living room, dear. Go to bed.”

  She kissed him back and then rose from her seat. She gazed at us. “Angela, if you or your sister need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Adelaide smiled at her. “God bless you, and your husband. You have a lovely family.”

  Ofelia left for her bedroom and the two of us sat on the couch drinking coffee. Sandalio took out his pipe and began stuffing it with tobacco. He bristled when a knock on the door interrupted him. He walked over to the door, and after looking through the peephole, opened it and tilted his gaze downward.

  “Good evening, Tomás.”

  “Good evening, Señor Vega,” we heard the squeaky voice of a boy respond. He began rattling off a list of maintenance jobs that needed to be done around the building.

  Sandalio turned to face us. “You’ll have to excuse me, ladies. I’ve become the unofficial repairman for many of the tenants here.”

  Tomás stuck his head in and waved at us. “Hello!”

  We waved back. Sandalio bent down and reached for his toolbox. He excused himself once more and headed out with the boy.

  Adelaide opened her coin purse and tried to scrounge up some money. “I wish I had a little more to leave them.”

  “I think they’ll be fine,” I stretched and yawned. “Let’s just hope the war doesn’t spill over to this side of the border and destroy what they do have.”

  “Do you want to go see the terrace?”

  I really wanted to drag myself to our little guestroom and curl up on the bed. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

  Adelaide ran into the kitchen and got a couple of glasses. She went over to the cabinet where Sandalio kept the wine and poured us some Amontillado. She placed the wine bottle back inside, took off her wrist watch and left it on top of the cabinet

  We went to the rooftop terrace and felt a cool breeze blowing toward us from the nearby estuary. Tomorrow morning I would be over there, boarding a ferry and making my way through Biscay Bay. Then, I’d go through the English Channel and land in Portsmouth.

  As I stood on the rooftop watching the stars, I thought about my father and whether or not he had a place to stay tonight. Did he have to run and hide, even in the dead of night? Could he even sleep for an hour, knowing that seven wizards were commissioned to kill him? The Gray Tower wasn’t even interested in detaining a Drifter; they would not take him as prisoner.

  “I’d like a family one day,” Adelaide said, cradling her glass of Amontillado.

  I drank my wine. “Got a sweetheart?”

  “No, but you know how it is with this line of work.”

  “I think you did a good job, driving us back to Jasmine’s house. We could’ve been captured, or caught by the Gestapo.”

  She snorted, though there was a hint of a smile around her lips. “I was a nervous wreck!”

  “Believe me, I understand. I actually wanted to retire.” I took a seat in one of the lounging chairs. “Now...I’m not sure what I want.”

  When she saw that I had finished my drink, she gestured for me to give her my empty glass. “Do you want some more wine? I have a pair of earrings I can leave.”

  I laughed. “No thanks, I’ll be fine.”

  “Well, this war can’t last forever. One day, I’ll have what I want.” She set my glass on the table and took another sip from hers. She still stood, looking up at the sky with a wistful expression.

  “What do you plan to do after tomorrow?” I asked.

  She brushed a wisp of her shoulder-length hair aside. “I’m going back to France to work with the other SOE agents in Paris. My mother had family there.”

  “Father Gabriel said he knew your father.”

  She nodded. “They were schoolmates in Italy, at the Borghese gardens, when a lot of British boys used to go there.”

  I sped through the names of everyone I’ve heard of in SOE, and tried to puzzle out her family name. “If you don’t mind me asking, would I know your father?”

  “I’m not sure, but whenever you’re in London, just look up Edwin Grey.” She winked at me.

  “I’ll remember that. If you see Lucien and Ernest again, can you tell them I said thanks?”

  “I will.”

  I thought of Ernest’s original mission and prayed that he’d be careful. “I hope they find that assassin who’s been bumping off our pilots.”

  “What assassin?”

  “That spy, Galeno.”

  Her wineglass slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor. She had a startled look on her face and, just as I was about to ask her what frightened her so much, my gaze fell onto her white blouse, now sullied with blood flowing from her right shoulder.

  I got up and caught her just as she sank to her knees. Sandalio emerged from the house with his gun in hand, and a silencer attached to it so that no one could hear his shots.

  Adelaide reached for her shoulder, probably trying to
stem the blood flow. My muscles stiffened, and I felt the ache of fear restrict my movements. I knelt with her and began working on controlling the bleeding and closing the wound.

  “Don’t try to heal her, or I’ll shoot her again.”

  My throat went dry, and I could barely speak. None of this made sense. “Why did you do this?”

  “Because Sandalio Vega always gets his target. When I’m done with you, I’m going back to finish off your friend Ernest Wilson. Don’t take it personally, Miss George, it’s just business.” He gestured for me to step away from Adelaide with his gun.

  “You’re Galeno...did someone from SOE hire you? Are you working for the traitor?” I tore myself away from Adelaide, my chest tightening and stomach aching as each vital moment passed. She just lay there, quiet and still in a pool of blood.

  “No,” he said.

  “But I bet you’re on the same payroll.”

  “My employer has eyes and ears in many places.” He approached and kept the gun trained on me.

  “So does Ofelia know about you? How about your kids?”

  “They know nothing, and I plan to keep it that way.”

  I wanted to spit in his face. “That’s going to be a little difficult, since you just shot a woman in cold blood.”

  With his free hand, he pulled a thin gold band from his pocket. The circle was too wide for it to be a bracelet, but it would fit perfectly around one’s neck. “I presume you know what this is?”

  “I’ve seen one before.” Nearly every country banned possession of imperium collars, except in the case of law enforcement. Like the one used on Veit Heilwig, they were control devices used to either prevent wizards from using their powers, or to control how they used them.

  “Then you’ll permit me to place this around your neck? I will administer jade powder to Adelaide and heal her. Quickly though, she doesn’t have much time.”

  Holding back tears of anger, I gathered up my hair and tilted my head forward. When he opened and placed the imperium collar around my neck, it clanked shut by itself, I felt like someone had his hands around my throat. I wanted to claw at it and scream; it felt unnatural, and I immediately felt my magical energy fall into submission.