The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  I joined them, slinking into my seat, but not touching any of the food. I opted for a small glass of juice instead. “Good morning, Joshua.”

  He rubbed the stubble on his chin and observed me. His blue eyes were sharp and alert, almost overpowering his other facial features. At some point this morning, he must’ve gone to the infirmary for a healing, because I didn’t sense any wounds on him.

  “Good morning, Miss George.” He arched an eyebrow when I raised my glass to my lips. “You’re not Miss George anymore, eh? Wait until I tell Jane about this.”

  I gave him a wry smile. “I’m still coming to her wedding next March. I can’t wait to see her.”

  “Assuming you don’t die tonight raiding the Den--or turn into a complete lunatic and destroy your allies.”

  “And all this time I never sat down to have conversations like these when I showed up at MI6. What have I been missing?”

  He frowned. “Well I didn’t say I wanted those things to happen. Just being realistic.”

  “Well could you be a little less realistic? I’m already a mess.” I set my glass down and toyed with the wedding band on my finger. Brande and I had agreed that before teleporting tonight that we’d leave the rings here, at the mansion with my dad. I’d go berserk if anything happened to them. Also, we felt that since we were going into a precarious situation where people were being used as emotional weapons against us, it probably wouldn’t help to advertise to the enemy that we belonged to each other as husband and wife.

  “We’ll start the Circadian Circles in a few minutes.” Izsak bit into a pastry and absentmindedly browsed one of his notes.

  Joshua looked more refreshed this morning, and he seemed to be soaking in the atmosphere. I never saw him take a vacation from work, and oddly, this was probably the closest he’d allow himself.

  He drank down his glass of juice. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”

  I shook my head. “You’ve done more than enough.”

  “You know I don’t need your permission to join the group and go raid the Den tonight?”

  My friend Jane, back in London, had already lost her sister Anna to this war. I wasn’t going to place her brother in the enemy’s lair. “Don’t you need to go report back to MI6 or something?”

  “It’s my job, Isabella.”

  “Yeah? Try telling that to Jane. She’d be upset just knowing you brought that package out here. You probably told her some story so that she’d believe you were elsewhere.”

  His jaw tightened in response. He knew that I’d call up his sister if I had to. “I’ll at least stay here at the embassy until you come back from the other side.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  I saw the receptionist step out and wave toward me. “A friend has just arrived.” She went back inside.

  “Izsak, we can start my lesson when I get back.” I grabbed a small pastry and devoured it before leaving the table.

  I left the courtyard, heading inside and toward the front. When I reached the reception area, I saw the familiar profile of a handsome man with dark hair speaking in a British accent to the receptionist. When I approached, he faced me, peering at me with his warm hazel eyes.

  “Hello, Isabella.”

  “Neal!” I approached and gave him a tight hug. “Where were you this whole time?”

  The last time I had seen Neal Warren was during the attack on the Tower. He and another Master Wizard had helped me escape to safety amidst the fighting and bloodshed. He said that he and the other Philosophers would clear the Gray Tower and aid other survivors.

  “We split up. Some went north and others went south, and we continued our task. I was hoping to find you sooner, but the Cruenti warlocks have been putting up a fight wherever we went.” He grabbed my left hand and smirked. “And you married Brande. Do him a favor and don’t cook for him.”

  I slapped his arm. “You’re terrible.”

  He would never let me live down the time I had served him an apple pie I made on my own. He pretended to like the dessert, just like I let him pretend to be my fiancé so that we could work together and catch a murderer. Neal had also been one of the seven trackers commissioned by the Gray Tower to hunt the Drifter.

  “Congratulations, Isabella.”

  “Thank you. Did you know that Joshua Morton’s here? He brought us the talisman. I wanted to throttle him for being the courier.”

  He nodded. “Then you’ll be using it to teleport tonight?”

  “We’ve already grouped into teams. You can come with mine.”

  “There’s something else.” Neal nodded toward the front door.

  I went over to the door and opened it. Samson Grom, with hands bound behind his back, stumbled across the threshold and crashed to his knees. Behind him emerged Ekwueme, the Master Philosopher who had conspired with my father all those years ago. He wore a stern expression on his dark face, and instead of his Master’s uniform from the Gray Tower, he donned a gray suit and tie.

  “We found Mr. Grom nearby, surveilling the mansion.” Ekwueme gazed at Samson. “Do you understand that you are released from your oath, and you may no longer track the Drifter?”

  Samson raised his head and glared at Neal. He snarled. “The purpose of an oath is to keep it. I’ve kept mine. This is why the Tower fell, Neal Warren. You’ve neglected your duty and betrayed us all!”

  Ekwueme spoke a Word, and Samson’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. He fell to the floor unconscious. “Is there somewhere we can hold him?”

  The receptionist stepped forward. Her severe high collar and long skirt made her look more like a librarian. “There’s a warded room in the basement area where you can keep him. I’ll show you.”

  Ekwueme knelt and grabbed hold of Samson. He lifted him up and doubled him over his shoulder. He followed the receptionist in silence. I turned to face Neal, wondering if Samson’s accusation stung him in any way. Neal used to be a tracker, but when he discovered the missing Mehmed VI page, that’s when he had decided to help me instead of standing aside and letting me be executed by the Gray Tower.

  “Don’t let his words discourage you,” Neal said. “It was one of our zealous trackers who unwittingly let Octavian infiltrate the Tower.”

  I nodded, although I felt Samson’s accusation of betrayal and ruin could’ve easily been directed toward me. If Samson found out about Ammon and the whole Nuremberg situation, he’d have a field day and rally the other wizards to his cause. I reminded myself that I just needed to make it through tonight, and this would all soon be over. One way, or another.

  Izsak recruited Gregory to help with my lesson, since the nature wizard Thierry said he “wasn’t available” to spar with me like he did the other day. I begged Izsak to move our lesson to the conference room inside the building so we wouldn’t have to be in the courtyard in front of disapproving eyes or sharp tongues.

  I was glad that Gregory didn’t start asking prying questions or treating me like I had the plague. On some level he must’ve understood what I was going through, and he knew what it was like for a mistake to haunt someone. He managed a friendly smile for me, and had even kept his clean-shaven look. He looked better after having lost the shaggy gray hair.

  Just as we were about to begin, my father stepped in. He still walked with a slight limp, but he didn’t use a cane or walking stick. He found his way to an empty seat without guidance, and he directed his milky-pupiled gaze toward me. I approached and wrapped my arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  “How are you, Dad?”

  “I’m well. You’ve been avoiding me today.”

  “I...wanted you to rest.”

  “I know what you did to save my life, and I know about Nuremberg.”

  My hands dropped to my sides, I sat across from him. “I spent most of my life believing you were gone. Now that I’ve found you, I couldn’t give you up. It was too painful to watch you die in my arms.”

  He nodded. “We all have those momen
ts when we must question what we will do for someone we love. You must learn from your mistakes, and try to right the wrongs. What we must do now is prepare you and strengthen you. You’ll need it.”

  “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right.”

  “How are your pulsations and ripples?”

  “I still know how to use them to slow and speed up time.”

  “And Zaman’s Fire?”

  “It’s stronger than ever.”

  “And do you know how to close time rifts?”

  “Yes.”

  “What can you do with your Circadian Circles?”

  “I can apply them to bodies, magical auras, and open areas. I’m still trying to grasp the auras. Sometimes it works well, and sometimes I fumble and lose it.”

  “I see. Gregory--”

  He sat up in his chair and eyed my father in astonishment. He hadn’t yet greeted my father or made his presence known to him. “Yes, sir?”

  My dad shifted in his chair. “Cast a Circle of Protection around yourself.”

  A rumble of energy filled the room as Gregory cast his spell. He stepped into the open space in the center of the room. When my father nodded in my direction, I stood and cast a Circadian Circle. It spread toward Gregory, bending his Circle of Protection. He grunted, and I felt him fortify it. I layered another Circadian Circle over the first one. I never knew I could layer them like that until I saw what had happened at Nuremberg.

  Izsak gasped. “I actually felt that. That was strong. What did you do?”

  My father smirked. “She’s layering her Circles. Now, go for the aura.”

  Holding onto two layered Circles and honing their energy felt like pulling a truck with a rope. I began sweating, and my arms ached. I pushed away the oncoming fatigue and focused on Gregory. His thin gray line with its soft blue glow surrounded him from head to toe. I drew on the power from my Circles to send a tendril of energy toward him. I latched onto his aura and avoided his body--I didn’t want to affect his natural circadian rhythm. His Circle of Protection shattered and he gritted his teeth, throwing a good amount of resistance toward my tendril.

  My father must’ve felt the same imbalance in energy that I did, because he sighed and made a wry smile. “Are you in a rodeo? Don’t treat your tendrils like lassos.”

  Izsak chuckled and cleared his throat. “Remember the text we studied together. The Circadian Circle is primarily a tool of balance--but you’re using it to throw off someone’s aural balance. This might account for--”

  “The lopsided balance of energy that I feel,” my father said in a low voice, scratching his salt and pepper beard.

  “Okay...” I sent out another tendril to balance off the first. Both were now latched onto Gregory’s aura, and I willed the tendrils to disrupt his aura and drain some of his magical energy.

  Gregory doubled over. “You did it.”

  I released the tendrils and my Circadian Circles. With my arms still aching and the rest of my body feeling the weight of fatigue, I ambled over to Gregory and gave him my hand. “Thank you. You’re not hurt, are you?”

  He stood straight and shook his head. “You didn’t drain too much from me. You look exhausted.”

  “I’m just a little tired.” Actually, I was ready to crawl into bed, but tonight we were teleporting to the Den. I wanted to be ready.

  “You did very well, but I’d still like Thierry to spar with you.” My father rose from his seat.

  I frowned. “Dad, I don’t think he wants to be anywhere near me.”

  “I trained him. I’m like a mentor to him. Even if he has reservations about you, he’ll listen to me.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. Really.”

  My father looked a little disappointed, but said nothing further.

  Gregory gave me an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “We can practice again if you’d like.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ll let you know if I can’t take anymore. You have to be ready to raid the Den tonight, correct?”

  I snorted. “That’s assuming I even have an army left. You saw how everyone’s been reacting to me. How could I lead them to the Den and against Octavian?”

  “I also noticed that many are still here at the mansion and haven’t left when they easily could’ve gone. Have a little faith.”

  “I like to be sure of things.”

  “Well, just think of it as another way of being sure.”

  “I’ll try.”

  He shook his head, as if saying that wasn’t good enough. “Isabella, you can’t control everything, but you can control how you respond. I know what it’s like to be an outcast. After my exorcism and conversion, I still had wizards trying to hunt me down and kill me. They couldn’t believe that I had changed, and they still saw me as a monster. You must accept the fact that some people will never accept you, and there are people who will do so in time. You can do this.”

  Izsak rose from his seat with a solemn expression. “He’s right. You can do this.”

  I grinned at them both. Their growing confidence in me felt like a breath of fresh air. I gave the men a grateful nod before going over to my father. I let him hold onto my arm as I walked him out of the conference room and down the hallway.

  “Are you going to the dining area to eat?” I gazed into his vacant eyes and wanted to cry. I wished I could’ve helped him sooner. If Master Moreau weren’t being such a jerk, I would’ve thanked him already for hauling my father and me back to the embassy after my blackout.

  “I’m actually due back at the infirmary for a treatment with the nurses. I plan to eat there. You can join me if you wish.”

  I gave him a peck on the cheek. I’d start bawling if I had to watch. “I think I need to find Brande and talk with him.”

  “Then I’ll see you tonight in the basement.”

  I walked him over to the infirmary and left him to the care of the nurses. I went in search of Brande, but couldn’t find him. I decided to stop at Moreau’s office to see if he knew where Brande was. I knocked on the Master Wizard’s door, and he admitted me. My shoulders stiffened as I approached and sat across from him. He removed his round spectacles and stroked his mustache.

  He gave me his cryptic smile. “How may I help you?”

  “I was just looking for Brande. I thought you might know where he is.”

  “I sent him to Victor’s mansion, down the street. He called today, asking when we were going to retrieve all those wizards he’s been hosting. Brande is gathering them as we speak and will bring them here. They’ll be ready to teleport to the Den tonight.”

  “And what about me? Am I barred from going?”

  He pulled out his bottle of Scotch and two small glasses. He filled both glasses and handed me one. “Have you resolved your issue with your demon?”

  He didn’t have to say it like that. Ammon didn’t belong to me. Nor did I want him to. “I’m working with Father Gabriel on that. I at least know what to do if Ammon approaches me again.”

  “Very well.” He raised his glass in a salute and then gulped down his drink. He observed me with his large dark eyes. I felt like he was dissecting me, and I didn’t like it.

  “I...should go eat while I still can.”

  “Please, sit and drink with me.” He refilled his glass and gestured for me to take mine.

  I took a sip, and my throat burned. “I don’t feel like drinking.” I set the glass aside.

  He downed his drink. He leaned forward and brushed his dark mustache. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m making a mistake when it comes to you. But...there’s no denying who you are.”

  “You’re not making a mistake, Master Moreau.”

  “We’ll see.” His eyes moistened. It caught me off guard to see him look as if he were on the verge of crying. It just confirmed my belief that some people should not be encouraged to drink liquor.

  I stood to leave. “I should go.”

  He opened his desk drawer and pulled out
a small key. It was the gold key I had seen that day I was in his office after battling with the Dark Philosopher. Moreau handed the key to me and gestured toward the bookcase to his right, the one with the locked sliding door. When I paused to ask him what this was all about, he simply gestured for me to use the key. I went over and inserted it, feeling the strong vibrations of the ward as I turned it. I slid the compartment door open and reached inside, pulling out three books.

  “Those are all about the Drifters.” Moreau accepted one of them from me and opened it, pointing to a handwritten page with an illustration similar to the Circadian Circle text.

  I set the second book aside and opened the third. These reminded me of the old tomes the Head of the Order of Wizards kept in the Council Hall at the Gray Tower. There was a glaring difference, however, between Master Ovidio’s books and Master Moreau’s. While the books at the Gray Tower recounted the history of the Drifters and how they had been defeated by the Tower, the books in Moreau’s collection actually discussed how the Drifter’s powers would create a better world and serve as an elevation of humanity.

  “No wonder you had these locked away. The Gray Tower would’ve burned them.” I flipped through several more pages. Bitterness gnawed within me. “I’ve heard about the Master Wizards destroying texts and most anything that spoke of the Drifter, especially if it did so in a positive manner. It’s ridiculous.”

  Moreau nodded. “The Head of the Order sent me here twenty years ago, despite the fact that I had requested another position. No one ever told me that sitting here in my cozy mansion, as you would put it, would be so damned dull. All I had were my books. I’ve read them countless times over the years--especially when I learned about your father. I suppose I’m showing them to you because I don’t want you to think I hate you.”

  “Well, that’s good to know.” I closed the book and held it out to him.

  He shook his head and leaned back. “You should hold on to it. You need to learn how to think like a Drifter. You’re still vulnerable.”