Tower of Trials: Book One of Guardian Spirit Read Online Free Page A

it behind.”
    “This is our only ring.” Lydia pulled off her left glove, fiddled with something on her finger, and offered up her hand for inspection. On her ring finger was jewelry: a black stone set inside red. The black stone looked like a raven with elevated wings and about to take flight; the rectangular red gem was perhaps a ruby. The band looked made of gold. Harmless mortal jewelry. “It is my fiancé’s, from his mother. It was meant for his sister, but bad spirits snatched her up eighteen years ago when she was but three and he nine. Speaking of which, do we take . . . ” She looked over her shoulder. Her gaze stole toward the corpse. “ . . . him?”
    “No. We deliver his shade to his body.”
    “But will . . . he be safe here?”
    “Nothing will happen to his body during your quest. The spirits will ensure that.”
    She nodded, turned the ring upside down, and pulled back on her glove. Then, taking hold of his pouch’s lip, she eased one corner of the journal inside. In a gray, obscuring haze, it slid in easily, and she laughed. “Oh, how nice!” Squinting, she tugged the “shrinking” journal back out halfway before pushing it back in, fascinated by how the journal’s size would adjust and readjust, fascinated by how the gray pouch’s cloth would expand without changing size, even at the mouth. “I would love one of those when I travel, for I have ever so many dresses and not enough room for them all. Do they come in other colors?”
    “It’s dyed.”
    “How nice! Though pink or green would be even nicer.” She tugged on the journal again. “You should see this, Perce!”
    “I’d rather we held onto our items, Lydia. For safety’s sake.”
    Lydia rolled her eyes, secured the journal, and added her other items. “Never mind him.” She lowered her voice. “You should have heard how he complained all the way here, enough to set the strongest head to pounding, until, well, I let him have his way and he played bait. Which, I, uhm, you understand was a misunderstanding now, Good Spirit? Ahem, yes, well.” She stepped back, smiled over her shoulder at her glaring companion, and raised her voice, “Lead the way, Guide—or, do you have a name?”
    At last. Guard shook his head, returned his bow to his right hand, and started across the forecourt. Fortunately, they took the hint and scampered after. He never realized how hard it was to herd humans, even toward their own declared goal, until he had to try; they had to talk over everything and were so easily distracted. Hopefully, they would be more manageable in The Crypt, where it really mattered. Realizing more distractions lay dead ahead, he shortened his stride once he reached the entrance to The City; this way, they fell in at his side, Lydia nearest. Even three abreast, they had ample room as they walked down West Arcade.
    “You see? He’s won’t answer,” Percy said. “Why do you even ask?”
    Lydia shot Guard a sly look. “I could compel him by asking three times.”
    “He’s not a spirit, remember?”
    “I will be,” Guard reminded them, “after we succeed tonight.”
    “Such confidence!” She beat on her companion’s shoulder with a gloved fist. “You should try it on for size.”
    “I never said we couldn’t—I just said we shouldn’t—that you should have left it in my hands. This place is not for the faint of heart.”
    “Faint! When have I ever been—oh.” Lydia stopped short at the other end of the archway. “It is so small. I thought . . . ” She blushed and reached out and patted Guard on his arm, startling both men. Though only one of them shouted her name. She spoke over it, “I meant no offense, Guide. I am sure it is a perfectly nice Purgatory. Cozy—quaint. Though very white—not that there’s anything wrong with white. I wear it often. Too often; all unmarried women sadly do, even if it’s not their color.” She peered across the courtyard at the opposite arcade. Or beyond it, where rose