The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “What are they going to do with him?” Cathana asked, gesturing toward Gordon.

  “It’s not our concern, Cat. If he’s clean, then they’ll drop him off back in America. If he’s hiding something...”

  “I’d appreciate it if you kept me informed.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you, Joran.” She leaned in and framed his face with her hands, and he gazed at her with a tender look that I would’ve thought impossible for him to pull off.

  He leaned down to kiss her, but she turned her head, so that his lips pressed against her cheek. “Uh...more...church tomorrow?”

  She smiled. “If you wish.”

  Gordon slammed his empty tin cup against his cell bars. “How sweet. I guess you do have a heart. Now can I get a sandwich or something?”

  Joran’s expression darkened, but he held back any threats. “I’ll call the kitchens and have someone bring food over.”

  Cathana whispered goodbye and left the same way Gabriel had. I didn’t want to push my luck, so I ran toward the staircase and went up to the tiny office. When I stepped outside, I focused my energy on my left leg, my back, and my neck. Like a fresh cold glass of water, I sent a rush of healing energy through my body. When I was able to walk without limping, I dusted off my long black tunic and crossed my arms because there was a tear in the rib area.

  I had to pass the tailor shop on my way back to my room, and decided to pick up my dress for tonight’s ceremony. It was one of the few times we were allowed to dress in regular clothing while at the Tower. I thanked the dressmaker who handed me my dress. It had an off-shoulder neckline and was powder blue, my favorite color. It looked almost ethereal because of the chiffon and lace. I frowned when I noticed the hemline was shorter than what it should’ve been, but then a lot of dresses were made this way because of rationing and the war.

  I held it in front of me, still concealing the rips and tears in my uniform, and headed for the Apprentice residences. My heart almost stopped in my chest when I saw Brande approach. He wore his Elite uniform, which fit quite nicely on his tall, muscular build.

  However, my thoughts turned toward Hotaru’s words, and I couldn’t shake the accusation he had made toward me earlier. When I looked into Brande’s eyes, I saw strength, but also sadness. It made me feel horrible. No matter how much he wanted to put on a strong face for the world, I knew that it disappointed and hurt him to not be rewarded with something he worked nearly half his life for. And what if the Masters wanted to do more than just demote him?

  I slowed my pace as he closed the gap between us. He spoke first. “How are you?”

  “I’m...okay. We should talk tonight. I’ll probably see you at the...” I lifted my dress as if that said it all.

  He nodded. “Your father escaped in Cairo.”

  I sighed with relief. “Good, thank you.”

  I felt like an idiot. What else could I say to him? Thank you for throwing away your dreams, your destiny, maybe even your life? It must’ve taken a lot out of him to be alongside Master Priya, and Neal and the others, and appear to be working with them while subtly sabotaging them for my father’s sake. For mine.

  “You’re upset.” He raised his hand and brushed my cheek, sending my heart racing as his touch lingered.

  “I’m tired...” I reluctantly pulled back and glanced around. Why did he have to do that? Did he want other people to see? Despite the way it made me feel when he touched me, any affection witnessed between us would just be used against him.

  “I’ll let you get some rest then.” He gave me a confused look before continuing on his way toward the Grand Hall.

  With a groan, I walked toward my room, all the while wondering if I were worth all this trouble. The only way I could make it up to Brande would be to successfully convene the High Council, win my case, and then get his name cleared. I remembered when I had first met Cathana and she told me that sometimes, when a wizard disgraced himself, his name would be struck from Tower records and those who knew him were forbidden to speak of him. It happened to my father and his deceased friend Veit Heilwig, but I promised myself that it wouldn’t happen to Brande.

  43

  “Hold still.” Bianca furrowed her brows in concentration as she carefully applied a crimson lipstick to my lips with precise strokes.

  “I know how to apply makeup,” I told her as I shifted in my seat.

  “Stop talking, will you? And besides, it’s fun to let other people do your makeup. This is how they do the actresses in Hollywood.”

  “Sister, this is nowhere near Hollywood.”

  She laughed. “There. I’m done.”

  I grabbed the hand mirror and looked. I smiled a little. “Thanks.”

  “You look beautiful.” She began taking out her pin curls and letting her long, dark hair fall. She wore a silver dress with a jewel neckline.

  “You look gorgeous, and I’m sure Kiaran will agree when he sees you.”

  “I hope so.” She beamed.

  When we were finally dolled up, we left the manor house and stepped out into the cool night air. A few other attendees walked along the same pathway. When we made it to the entrance of the Grand Hall, I greeted Paul Casey, who stood out front. He smoked a cigar with the ambassadors Svendsen and Rousseau. The three men waved hello, and we greeted them.

  “Ladies, you look lovely tonight.” Paul grinned.

  “Thank you, Mr. Casey.” Bianca scanned the area. When she saw Kiaran approaching, she excused herself and went to join him.

  Paul put out his cigar. “I’m not sure if you have an escort for tonight, Isabella...”

  “You’re it,” I said, taking his arm.

  “If you tire of him, we’re also available.” Svendsen adjusted his glasses.

  Rousseau laughed and stroked his mustache. “We’ll see you inside.”

  When the other two men left, I leaned toward Paul and whispered in his ear. “Did you get the notes?”

  “I sure did. Looks like I’ll do more than just ride the Titanic...I’ll help steer it.”

  “I’ll keep my word to stand with you over the complaint you filed, if you back us up tonight, when we request the High Council.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  We walked arm-in-arm through the lobby and into the Grand Room, which had been converted into a ballroom. Thirty large, round tables were arranged throughout the room, and there was a dance floor in the middle. A band of musicians had set up, and toward the back stood a stage with a table reserved for the Head of the Order and The Three.

  Paul and I sat at our table, and one of the servers brought us some drinks. I faced the ambassador and said, “By the way, they’ve got an American in the holding cells. He says his name is Gordon and that he works for General Robert Cambria. When you get the chance, you might want to speak with him.”

  Casey downed his drink and called for a whiskey. “Gordon...all right, then.”

  I also told him about the dead Black Wolf in the dungeon and how it could be used to our advantage. The fact that it got this close to the Tower, even if it didn’t survive, was a huge problem--a problem the Masters apparently didn’t want broadcasted.

  I turned and saw Brande enter, wearing a black suit and tie. He looked good. Just when he turned and noticed me, Casey put his arm around me and whispered into my ear. “Leto Priya’s headed our way at three o’clock.”

  I turned my head and glanced to the right. Cathana Erin accompanied Master Priya, and she wore a beautiful white dress. When I turned back around to find Brande, he had disappeared. My heart sank.

  “Ah, Master Erin,” Priya said as he came to our table and pulled out a seat for Cathana. “Two of our favorite Americans. Good evening, Ambassador Casey...good evening, Isabella.”

  I wanted to grimace when he sat next to me, and I addressed him in a stiff voice. “Master Priya, congratulations on the elevation of your Elites--well, most of them.”

  He turned toward me, with his penetrat
ing eyes and wrinkled, round face. “Yes, Brande Drahomir, unfortunately, will not be among them tonight.”

  His comment felt like a stab. “And, how do you feel about Hotaru Kimura being a cold-blooded murderer?”

  Paul chimed in. “I’m sure you received a copy of my formal complaint on behalf of the United States.”

  Cathana looked troubled. “I understand that Master Pedraic has disciplined Hotaru, and the investigation is ongoing. We never take these things lightly.”

  Master Priya faced Paul. “Mr. Casey, I have received your report, and I’m treating it as a priority. I simply ask for your patience.”

  Paul nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Leto,” Cathana said, “when I agreed to accompany you for tonight, I expected gaiety, not politicking.”

  Master Priya smiled at her. “Forgive me, Master Erin. I shall speak no more of it.”

  The room erupted into applause, and everyone stood to welcome Masters Ovidio, Ekwueme, Beata, and Edom. They shook hands and smiled at familiar faces as they made their way down the middle and to their seats at the table on stage.

  Your father has injuries to his right hand and abdomen, Priya’s voice told me in my mind. He’s getting old and tired; prepare for the day he must leave you forever.

  I clenched my jaw, trying to suppress the surge of anger and fear I felt. I shot back at him telepathically. You’ve all been chasing him for sixteen years. What has he done to earn the death penalty from you? I closed my mind off to the mental connection.

  The applause ceased, and we sat. Priya forged another telepathic connection. Carson spoke with me yesterday for the first time in ten years. He knew that by allowing me to telepathically communicate, that I could more easily track him. It’s as if he’s starting to give up and wants to be caught. Despite what you may think of me...Your father was my closest friend.

  I crossed my arms and looked Priya up and down. I began wondering why he was keen on speaking with me about this. Is this a roundabout way for you to try and read my mind?

  He cast me a glance. Of course not, though I can already tell that you had a gypsy seal it. Let me be clear, Isabella: if I catch you anywhere near your father after tonight, then I will drag you down to the dungeon and deconstruct your mind so that when I am through with you, you will not even know your own name.

  Stop it. I cut the connection once more. He didn’t try to mentally communicate after that.

  The ceremony commenced, first with the elevation of a handful of Practitioners to Apprentice, and then three Apprentices to Elites. Hotaru, along with Neal Warren and two others were elevated to Master Wizards. I noted that one of the other trackers, Mehara, had not been elevated. She sat in a corner to the far left, tapping her finger on her table and starting on her third glass of wine.

  When the promotions were over, some of the men went to the lobby to smoke, while others congregated around the newly installed Masters and offered congratulations. Half of the women went to go powder their noses, while some of the others took to the dance floor with partners as the band began playing In The Mood.

  “Master Erin,” Priya said in his baritone voice, “would you care to dance?”

  “Of course, Leto.” She took his hand and they left the table.

  Paul tapped my shoulder and pointed toward Serafino and Bazyli. “Looks like they’re going to Ovidio to make their request. I’ll go with them.”

  “I’ll come too.” I made a move to stand, but he halted me.

  “No, it can’t look like you had anything to do with it. Let us take care of it and set it up. When they agree to the High Council, you can march in there and clobber the hell out of them.”

  “Fine, but make sure to follow the others’ lead,” I warned. “Ovidio doesn’t like outside interference. Use the dead Black Wolf, if you have to.”

  “Got it.” He drew in a deep breath and met Serafino and Bazyli mid-way. After exchanging a few words, they approached the table with Ovidio and The Three.

  As I sat and watched Bianca and Kiaran foxtrot to the upbeat song, and the throng of dancers enjoying the evening, I thought about Brande once more and how I wished he would’ve stayed. But why would he? To show up here, even for a few minutes, must have been painful. And it didn’t help that Paul leaned in and whispered to me right when Brande spotted me. From his vantage point it must’ve looked like Paul and I were very cozy with each other.

  “It’s a shame to see such a beautiful lady sitting here all alone. Dance with me.” Master Allan Skye, the alleged Black Dragon, extended his hand. He had brushed back his dark hair with its gray temples, and wore a single breasted tuxedo with a satin collar. When I refused to take his hand, he sent a jolt of energy up my spine so I would stand.

  “So, is this how you usually get women to pay attention to you?”

  He leaned his cane against the table and guided me to the dance floor. “I don’t take kindly to backtalk, Ms. George,” he said in his Cajun accent. He smiled in the direction of a couple of Elites, who shouted his name and waved at him.

  Everyone still danced the foxtrot, and though I moved stiffly, he glided gracefully with me across the floor. I glanced down at his leg. “I thought you had a bad leg, Master Skye.”

  “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t...tonight it works.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his light brown eyes.

  “I don’t want to dance,” I said. “Especially with you.”

  His smile faded. “I see you went and got some work done. You’re different from the last time we talked.”

  “What can I say? People change.”

  “Or maybe they just stay the same, and they wear masks to fool everyone else.”

  My stomach tensed, and I wondered if he suspected anything. When he saw that I was bothered, he smirked. “I told you our conversation wasn’t over, Isabella.”

  The song ended, and the singer queued the music, beginning to sing Blue Moon. I thought Master Skye would turn me loose, but he didn’t. The lights dimmed, and he led me in a slow waltz. As a nature wizard, with an apparent disdain for personal space, Skye used our physical contact to read me. He sent a cool caress of energy from the top of my head, all the way down to my toes. My breathing became shallow, and I tried to keep my face unreadable, hoping that the recent Veil was resilient enough to withstand it. His expression indicated that he was disappointed with whatever revelation he got from the reading, and, for a moment, I thought I had passed his inspection. However, his pupils dilated and blackness swallowed them. He leaned in and pressed his face into my hair and inhaled. I heard a low rumble that didn’t sound like it could come from a human throat or lungs.

  Black Dragon, I thought, as my heart froze in my chest.

  At this point, I was ready to break away, even if it meant drawing attention to us and causing a scene. Out of nowhere, Brande blind-sided Skye and enveloped me in his arms, all in a smooth motion. Skye narrowed his eyes, which had returned to their normal color, but one dark look from Brande told him that he had better back off. Skye retreated and disappeared into the crowd of dancers, and I continued swaying with Brande. My heart leapt with excitement as I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned my cheek on his chest--right over his heart.

  “What took you so long?” I asked.

  “They asked me to interrogate the prisoner in the dungeon later tonight.”

  “Gordon...”

  “Whoever placed that seal on his mind is a powerful wizard. Is he one of your father’s friends?”

  “Just shut up, Brande.” I breathed in his scent and wanted to melt in the warmth of his arms. After a few moments of silence, I said, “Listen...I feel horrible about this. You should’ve been elevated as a Master tonight. You’re better than all of them put together, in every way.”

  “Don’t feel that way. I refused the elevation...I’ve made my choice.”

  “What?” I lifted my head and faced him. “But you wanted this more than anything.”

  “There’s something els
e that I want more than anything.” He gazed right into my eyes when he said this.

  I stood on the tips of my toes and pulled him toward me until our lips met in a warm caress that tasted sweet and made me hungry for more. I felt myself bound up in him, mind, heart and soul. In that moment, I knew that I wanted to be with him always, but if that were to happen, I needed to be fully honest, so he could choose all of me--not just the parts I chose to reveal. He needed to know who I really was.

  I pulled back so I could speak, though my head spun and my entire being ached to be wrapped up in him again. “There’s something I need to tell you in private. Can you meet me upstairs, in Serafino’s study? I’ll be up there in a minute.”

  He nodded. “I have to do the interrogation soon.”

  “All right. I won’t be long.”

  The song ended and the room brightened. Brande turned and headed for the exit. Everyone cheered the band, and the lead singer, with a flourish of her hand, gave a deep bow. The master of ceremonies came up and spoke on the microphone, saying that an announcement was forthcoming. Ekwueme stood with Serafino and Ovidio, while Paul made his way toward me with a smile.

  As Ovidio spoke to the audience, Paul reached me and said in a low voice, “They’ve agreed to it, now it’s up to you to get ready for this.”

  I squeezed Paul’s hand and grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Casey.”

  He straightened his tie. “What do you think, Isabella? One day it just might be President Casey.”

  “If you do run for president, I promise I’ll vote for you.”

  I said goodbye and headed toward the exit that led to the hallway. I didn’t want to sit around and have Priya question me about my connection to the High Council decision--and I certainly didn’t want to run into Master Skye again. Just as I reached the door, Neal came alongside my right and placed his hand on my shoulder.

  “May I speak with you in private?” he asked.

  I turned to face him. “No, Master Warren, you may not. Enjoy your new status--I’m sure you’ve earned it.”