Tower of Trials: Book One of Guardian Spirit by Jodi Ralston

knelt. “Are you all right?”
    “I will be. I was in smoke form when the retriever grabbed me.” He moved onto his knees, and she tried to help pull him upright. “We can dismiss the right-hand path. I will try the middle next, and you two can work on the left.”
    She looked back at Shalott as he rose and stood over them. He spoke, “You could have told us about the retrievers.”
    “I could have if I knew of them.” Guard stood, slowly. Eager hands steadied him. The last of the pin-and-needle numbness faded as he marched toward the timer. “This maze was built to test the seeker and her motivation.”
    “But I hate mazes.”
    “Which is why the spirits picked it, dear,” Shalott said, reaching for her.
    Yes, Guard thought, as he handed out the grains. Those of the Upper Tower who had designed this maze knew that much—and more. She had undertaken this quest, chose to defy death, out of love. Watching them cuddle before and watching them walk now hand-in-hand down the leftmost path, he suspected the true nature of her heart, how it would be tested, and what the fastest route would be.
    Speculation he must confirm on this attempt.
    Guard just hoped he hadn’t guessed wrong.
    For either way, time was running out.

CHAPTER 6
     
    If anything, the maze was more frustrating than before. Guard didn’t know if it was due to the mortals journeying together or just a complication added to make try two harder than try one. Either way, this time around, dead ends abounded, and retrievers moved faster, both in waking up and in hunting. Forewarned, Guard still only managed to dart around three before they swelled to fill the path and trapped him.
    But he had confirmed a few important things. One, the maze-paths shared walls, and his chosen middle tunnel was lined on both sides with retrievers; a hurried glance, not up-close inspection revealed that. Two, all the retrievers stayed out until one caught him. And the third thing he had discovered but had not suspected: repeated prolonged exposure to tomb-wood was detrimental to his weapons and armor, and his health. Color took longer to restore; draining numbness hit harder and lasted longer.
    That meant, one touch by them at the wrong time, and his plan was for naught, and all was lost. They’d fail. But he couldn’t have done as the male ranted afterward; he couldn’t have taken them with him. He needed to see the pattern—
    The male, glaring as Guard half reclined against Lydia’s lap, didn’t give him time to explain what pattern he had sought. “Do you have to touch him so, Lydia? It’s unseemly.”
    She continued to rub Guard’s shivering arms. “He isn’t well.”
    “He’s untrustworthy. We should never have split up, I tell you! What? Do you deny it?”
    Lydia rubbed at her head, and then undid her heavy, green neck scarf. Dark, stray curls, which once bounced against its material, tumbled down to her shoulders now. She wrapped the material around Guard’s neck as if it could possibly help speed his recovery. The same motive had resulted in the removal of his short sword and bow and quiver so he could rest more easily against her. Her methods did not have much success—
    “Gods, Lydia!” The male stomped about in a circle, face red.
    —except for inciting that reaction.
    Much more of this, and Guard suspected the male might make use of the temporarily forgotten gun.
    What would that feel like in his current state?
    “Perce, you have already said all that. Repeatedly. And it still doesn’t change the fact he is our guide. He knows best.”
    “He hasn’t guided us! What has he done? Gone off on his own. It could be a trick!”
    “My fate,” Guard said, eyeing the flailing arms, “is linked with yours.”
    “Is it?” More flailing. “Truly?” More stomping. “Or is that another lie—?” And more reddening of the face. “Lydia, please! For godsakes, stop coddling him.”
    “I am rubbing the sensation back into his body.” She squeezed