The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “Isabella...it’s about the Turkish texts from Mehmed VI’s collection.”

  I didn’t want to hear any lies, and I didn’t want him to try and manipulate me. Tonight was my victory. “I have nothing to discuss with you.”

  I turned away and exited the ballroom before he could say another word. The lights in the hallway had been dimmed almost to the point of near darkness, and I yawned, thinking of how late it must’ve been. Part of me felt queasy about talking to Brande and telling him who I was, but another part of me felt free. To one of the people who mattered to me most, I could finally stop hiding behind my mask.

  I turned a corner in order to reach the staircase that led to the Masters’ studies, but paused when I heard Hotaru’s voice. “You didn’t want to stay for the rest of the ceremony?”

  He hadn’t yet turned the corner like I had, but I pressed my back against the wall and remained silent. As soon as he’d come around the corner, I would hit him with a spell.

  “Why should I stay?” Mehara’s regal voice retorted.

  I breathed a sigh of relief--Hotaru probably didn’t even see me. I peeked around the corner.

  “You should stay and celebrate with me,” he said.

  Mehara carried a glass full of wine. I wondered if this was her fifth or sixth drink. She may have been inebriated and bitter, but her statuesque figure in her gold dress made her look like a goddess. “You told Master Priya and Master Ovidio that I was responsible for the Drifter escaping in Cairo...that I had failed.”

  “It’s true.” His face was emotionless. “If you had struck that bus when Carson was injured and jumped onto it, you could’ve had him.”

  Her eyes watered. “There were twelve people in there--some of them children. They had nothing to do with him. I should have killed them all?”

  “You should’ve done what was necessary.”

  She sniffed. “Necessary. Was it necessary when you butchered those people in that safe house in France?”

  His expression darkened. “Now we’re even. I know you sided against me when the other Masters asked you about it.”

  She glared at him. “If I were you, Master Kimura, I’d be careful about the enemies I make.”

  He waved dismissively. “You women are always complaining about something, especially when you’ve had too much to drink. Come back into the ballroom.”

  “No.”

  “So, you’re not going to...congratulate me?”

  She swatted his hand away from her dress and turned away, walking in my direction. “You can congratulate yourself. I’m sure you’re good at it.”

  He sneered. “This is exactly why you’ll never become a Master Wizard. I’ll see to it.”

  She took another sip of wine and continued walking away from him. She raised her left hand and snapped her fingers, Hotaru fell face-first onto the floor. He rolled onto his back, and began swinging his arms at an invisible enemy. She let out a chuckle as he writhed on the floor.

  “Mehara!”

  She walked by me, and, for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t notice me because of the dim light and the way I stood against the wall. However, she turned and looked straight at me, her laugh of vengeance cut short. She quickly turned away and continued down the hallway, toward the exit.

  I turned and continued toward the staircase, and, with slow steps, I made it to the second floor. I felt like I could hardly contain my growing excitement as I headed toward Serafino’s study to meet Brande. I passed Cathana Erin’s room, and Leto Priya’s as well. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around me, and, for a moment, I was nearly blinded by an explosion of pain that traveled from my head, all the way down to my knees. My assailant covered my mouth with his right hand, so that my voice couldn’t be heard.

  I started kicking and flailing my legs when the memory of any magically defensive move I had ever learned was severed from my mind, like cutting a string. I bit his hand and he grunted, keeping it pressed over my mouth. He pulled me into Priya’s study, where a Circle of Silence had been set up. A whoosh of wind shut the door, and an electric shock ran through me, making me sink to my knees in agony. I went limp, and, as soon as his hold loosened, I swung my fist at his head. He may have blocked my mind from fighting him with magic, but I could still at least physically defend myself.

  “Be still,” Hotaru said.

  When I felt his mind try to connect with mine, I constructed a mental block and pushed him out. I elbowed him in the rib and rolled onto my side. He lunged toward me, and I kicked him in the stomach, sending him stumbling backward. I jumped to my feet, and when he rushed in again, I delivered a high kick to his head.

  He hit me with a blast of wind, and I went flying into a bookcase with a crash. My muscles spasmed and burned, but I rose to my feet again. He closed in and grabbed my arm, flinging me to the right. I slid across Priya’s desk and landed on the floor, my legs almost getting entangled with the chair. When I spotted a letter opener on the floor, I grabbed it and concealed it in my hand. Hotaru jumped across the table with ease and landed on me, I thrust the sharp end straight into his face, piercing the roof of his mouth.

  He gasped and backed off, withdrawing the letter opener and quickly working to repair the wound. I wasn’t going to stick around to see if he succeeded. I ran across the room, making it halfway to the door before I got caught up in a whirlwind that pulled me away and tore the air from my lungs. When I landed on the floor with a crash that left me gasping for air, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me to my feet. He shoved me face-first against the wall and sent another shot of burning pain flaring up in the back of my head. I felt blood trickle down my nose. I saw the door, just a few feet away to my right. If only I could...

  He pinned me against the bookcase and pressed something cold against my neck. An imperium collar. He placed it on me and clamped it shut, binding me. He immediately gave me an order: “Be still.”

  My limbs relaxed and any desire to kick or punch drained away. I stood there, my back still to him, and I was seething. “I’m going to kill you, Hotaru.”

  “It’s Master Kimura. Now, I want you to open your mind to me.”

  He was a trained elemental wizard, and wasn’t strong enough in mental magic to access my sealed mind without the aid of something like the imperium collar. He smoothed over the pain in my head so I could think clearly. When I tried to construct another mental block, he communicated his will to the imperium collar and my defense crumbled. His mind forged a connection with mine, and he fumbled through my thoughts and memories, lacking the skill and finesse of a true mentalist--which meant all his mental rummaging hurt like hell.

  He clearly saw tonight: my kiss with Brande, my conversation with Priya, and my alliance with Paul Casey. He dove deeper, skipping over entire days, and then came to a halt and hovered over the memory of Madrid, Spain--my time at La Cocina with Praskovya, the ambush at Jasmine’s house, and the Nazi experimental laboratory with Dr. Meier. I shrieked when he reached that part. I drew in a sharp breath, because I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I tried reaching for my magic again, but my mind drew a blank; the memory and knowledge of it were still severed. He finally released me and I sank to the floor, aching...exhausted...defeated. There was nothing else I could do or say.

  I had been unmasked.

  He stood next to me, leaning against the wall for support and breathing heavily. He looked like he was still in pain from being stabbed with the letter opener. Despite his physical discomfort, he looked down at me with a fleeting smile. “I must admit that your father is a genius. All this time you were within arm’s reach...in plain sight, and no one saw it.”

  I felt ill to my stomach because I knew what this would mean. If it were only my life hanging in the balance, then I’d accept the burden--but Brande, and the other people who helped me...who believed in me...what about them? I tried to say something to Hotaru, anything I could think of that would at least have him and the other Masters consider leniency toward the o
thers, but my words caught in my throat.

  He bent over and pulled me up by the arm. I stood and watched his face.

  “It’s over, Isabella.”

  “The others,” I finally managed to spill out, “they were only--”

  “As guilty as you. Now, sleep.”

  My throat constricted and I wanted to challenge him with another argument, but the imperium collar curbed my will once again. My eyelids grew heavy, and I felt lightheaded. I didn’t even feel myself sway and slump into his arms. I gasped, and darkness enveloped me.

  44

  For a moment, I thought everything that had happened was a nightmare. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of the soiled mattress beneath me, and it took a second for my eyes to adjust. No, it wasn’t a nightmare, but a living hell. I touched my neck and drew back my hand in revulsion at the cold sensation of the imperium collar. I scanned the familiar brick walls of the dungeon and shivered at the cold breeze that came through. I could see Gordon, asleep in his cell across from me.

  I half expected alarms to be sounding, for people to come parading down here and gawking at me, the Drifter, a real one caught and imprisoned here, at the Tower, and on her way to her death. However, only silence greeted me, and that somehow felt more worrisome than anything else.

  Had Brande, Serafino, Ekwueme and Bazyli taken up my defense and fought to the death? Or were they down here with me, imprisoned and incapacitated? I knew I could break the collar and use my Drifter powers--the mental severance that Hotaru had placed on me had subsided. And, I remembered that no one had ever fine-tuned this thing to work with Drifters. But what would be the point? Fight my way out so I could have that bloody vision of war in the Tower come to fruition? Escape and be on the run, alone, for the rest of my life? As much as it galled me to admit it, my mother was right. I was ending up like my father. And the worst part for me was that if something has happened to Brande...I didn’t think I’d have the will to fight. I’d rather die.

  I heard footsteps, and I saw Joran approach with Cliff and Sadik. The young men stopped in front of my cell and pushed a sack they were carrying through an opening in the bars. Cliff spoke. “Master Warren asked us to bring this down to you.”

  I opened the sack and found a plain white blouse, dark brown pants, a belt, and slippers (I supposed when you were on your way to your execution, the style of shoe didn’t matter). “Neal sent this to me?” A fleeting desperation took hold of me, and I felt around in the sack for a cell key, a gun...anything. When I found nothing, I sighed.

  Joran pointed toward the left corner of the cell. “There’s a bucket of fresh water, if you need it. I’ll order something from the kitchens.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I said in a flat voice. “Cliff, tell Master Warren...I said thanks.” Okay, so he wasn’t going to spring me, but this small gesture was...something.

  Hotaru came in with Master Priya, and a sickening dread filled me. Joran greeted them with a curt bow, and the boys stepped aside.

  “You’ve done well.” Hotaru patted Cliff on his shoulder. “Your mother will be well taken care of, Clifford. You’ve proven yourself a faithful son of the Gray Tower. Now, go on to your lessons for today.”

  Cliff gave me an apologetic look, and he slumped as he headed toward the exit. Sadik followed him, not even able to look at me.

  I’m sorry, Sadik said to me in my mind as he lingered near the exit. Master Kimura told us to befriend you when you got here. The other day...I saw some of your thoughts, and I told Master Kimura what I saw.

  It would’ve been easy to blame Sadik and be angry with him and Cliff, but they were just kids who had been manipulated. Everything’s going to be okay, Sadik, I told him as he left.

  Nothing would be okay, but I’d rather repeat that than to start screaming and raving like a lunatic. I gazed at Master Priya, not wanting to give Hotaru the satisfaction of acknowledging him, especially since the jerk made it a point to wear his newly made Master’s uniform. “Master Priya, why...am I down here?” He knew that I was asking why I hadn’t been killed once they captured me--unless they just wanted me awake when they did it.

  “Isabella, it appears the discovery of you being the Drifter has caused quite a commotion. Ambassador Casey is requesting your release to U.S. custody and is threatening us with retribution, and Father Gabriel and a few other ambassadors are attempting to intervene as well. Some of the Masters have compunctions about executing a young woman--and besides, they say, we’ve never seen a female Drifter--and they believe perhaps it signifies something. However, a handful of Masters want to study you and then execute you. Ekwueme is asking us to wait for his next projection, while Brande Drahomir has suddenly picked up a newfound talent as a lawyer and is requesting for the High Council to convene today. And--you’ll love this part--I do believe that Master Allan Skye is on the verge of proposing marriage. It appears you’ve made quite an impression on him. Frankly, all of this is giving me a headache. Once we have calmed the waters, we will proceed as we have always proceeded in regard to the Drifter. Someone must speak and act on behalf of the Tower, even when all others have gone astray. However, despite you being our most fascinating prisoner, I’ve actually come this morning to speak to the man in the cell across from you.”

  Joran walked over to Gordon’s cell and glared at him. “You can stop pretending to be asleep.”

  “Okay...I’m up,” Gordon said in a lazy voice. “Are you going to keep asking me the same questions?”

  Priya faced him. “Good morning, Gordon. I’m one of the wizards who brought you in. I am Leto Priya, the Master Mentalist, and I specialize in breaking seals. Whether or not you’re aware of it, a wizard has placed a very strong seal on your mind. I wish to know why.”

  “He’s one of Carson’s men,” Hotaru said. “It doesn’t matter anymore, we have the true Drifter.”

  “Nevertheless,” Priya said with an air of irritation, “we must be thorough.”

  “Thorough? That sounds like torture to me,” Gordon said in a broken voice.

  “Isabella, is he a friend of yours?” Priya stared at the man.

  “Nope,” I said as I went over to the bucket of water and splashed my face.

  Priya spoke. “Masters Serafino Pedraic and Faron Bazyli are doomed with you--they’ve already confessed to shielding you all these years, along with Veit Heilwig and your father. It’s all over, so why are you protecting Gordon?”

  It seemed, no matter how many times I denied it, they still thought Gordon worked for or with me. Honestly, I didn’t care--I was just relieved to hear that Brande was okay. However, my heart sank at the thought of Serafino and Bazyli publicly confessing and taking all the blame. They probably did it in order to spare Brande and Ekwueme from suspicion and arrest.

  I turned to face Priya. “Regardless of what you may think of me...I never wanted to hurt anyone. I was trying to help avoid the Broken Tower.”

  He gazed at me and didn’t answer. There was a touch of confusion mingled with fear in his eyes. When he finally spoke, he said, “Come, Hotaru. I must speak with The Three. Joran, no one is allowed to visit these two prisoners. No one.”

  “Yes, Master.” Joran followed Priya and Hotaru back out of the door.

  I turned toward my bucket again and found a sponge, dipping it in the water. I scrubbed my hands and arms, then removed the torn chiffon dress so I could put on the clothes Neal had sent me. My heart grew heavy at the thought of what was to come, and the only thing I had to be thankful for was that Brande never got to meet with me last night, and so wasn’t condemned along with Serafino and Bazyli. The fact that the two men hadn’t even been brought down to the dungeon must’ve meant that they were being held by The Three. It seemed their confession protected the knowledge of Ekwueme’s involvement, and I wondered if the Master Philosopher could find a way amidst the commotion to whisk them away. And where was my father? Did all of this fit into his calculations, or was he betting on me using my powers to escape? A part of me wanted
to do it. In my anger and hurt, I wanted to punish the Tower and unleash my powers, but then I knew I wasn’t willing to pay the price for such a decision. If that were the case, I would have already accepted Ammon’s offer.

  “Hey...Isabella, right?” Gordon gave a sad smile.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “Please tell me you have some kind of plan, because they’re going to kill us.”

  I slipped my feet into the slippers and approached the bars. I looked into his worried eyes. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. I can’t help anyone...” Well, at least not without killing a lot of people, destroying the Gray Tower, and opening up a rift that would allow demons and frightening beings into the world.

  I wiggled my right foot and took it out of its slipper when I felt something inside. I bent down and took out a folded note--I opened it and saw that it was written in Neal’s hand:

  Isabella,

  In Cairo, an associate of your father’s handed me what appears to be the missing page from Mehmed VI’s collection. You no doubt, like I did, questioned why the Turkish papers praised Zaman as a hero and leader despite the dangerous powers he possessed. According to this text, Besart Frasheri traveled extensively throughout Europe and Asia, and came to be known as “Zaman” in the Turkish Empire when he alleviated Sultan Osman’s kingdom from a demonic attack. Frasheri found a way to close his rift--he had atoned for his sin. Rest assured that I have entrusted the page with Master Priya, in the hopes that this may be of use during the High Council.

  I growled and crumpled the note. I should’ve given Neal the opportunity to speak with me last night. Priya was the last person I’d want entrusted with that page. He didn’t even mention the text just now, which proved that he wasn’t interested in the truth. He wanted to execute the Drifter and keep things the way they had always been. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had already destroyed the text and would forbid Neal to speak of it.

  I glanced at Gordon. He gazed at me in silence and gripped the bars, and, for the first time, I noticed he wore a silver wedding ring. “Don’t you have something to live for, Isabella? I know I do. I want to get out of here.”