Spirit Ascendancy Read Online Free

wheezed.
    “She’s not the only one with that skill set,” Finn muttered. He was already reaching into his coat pocket and extracting a small set of metal tools.
    “You’re kidding me,” I said. “You just happen to have a lock picking kit hanging out in your pocket?”
    “Caomhnóir need to be prepared for anything,” Finn said, working two of the instruments into the battered lock and beginning to jiggle them around.
    “So, what else have you got in that coat?” I asked. “Walkie-talkies? Explosives? Do you have one of those pens that doubles as a recording device, like James Bond?”
    “Will you shut up and let me work, please?” Finn growled, starting to sound a bit more like his hostile self.
    I decided that quick, undetected entry was higher on my priority list than snappy comebacks, so I did indeed, rather uncharacteristically, shut up so that he could concentrate. Hannah glanced anxiously up and down the hallway, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Finally, after what felt like a very long thirty seconds, the lock clicked and the door swung open. Finn reached his hand around the doorway and fumbled along the wall until he found the light switch.
    My first thought was that we’d opened the door into one of those documentaries about hoarders. Most of the room was buried in pile upon teetering pile of newspapers and magazines, rising up like a recyclable model of a city skyline all around us. The walls were covered in shelves, and the shelves were crammed with all manner of small dusty knick-knacks: figurines, teacups, thimbles, and the like.
    “What the bloody hell?” Finn muttered.
    He took a cautious step forward, and we followed him. He stood on tiptoe and brushed a plume of dust off the top of the nearest stack.
    “It’s a copy of The Daily Mail with a cover story about the royal wedding,” Finn said, examining the faded photo. “Looks like this whole mound is copies of the same issue.”
    I glanced at the pile nearest me. Beneath the film of filth I could make out a large photograph of Prince William beaming toothily.
    “Well, at least we know that no one’s living here,” Hannah said. “There’s no way they’ve rented out the flat again if it’s in this state.”
    We ventured in a few more steps. The place smelled overwhelmingly of cats. I was suddenly terrified that we would shift one of those mountains of paper and find one, squashed and mummified under fifty pounds of backdated Hello! magazines.
    “Everything on this shelf is commemorative royal stuff,” Hannah said, edging her way over to the nearest display. She gingerly lifted and held up what looked like a bobble-head of Queen Elizabeth II. “What is all this junk, do you think?”
    “Junk? What do you mean, junk?” came a sudden, waspish voice. Lyle McElroy materialized beside Hannah, who jumped and nearly dropped what she was holding. “And be careful with that! It’s a collector’s item! These are all collector’s items, some of them very rare, and are worth a lot of money, so I would appreciate it if you kept your hands off of them!”
    “I’m sorry,” Hannah said, hastily replacing the figurine beside a tea cozy bearing the royal crest.
    “Well, you should be! What are you doing here anyw—” Lyle stopped short and stared at Hannah. “Wait, you heard me?”
    “Yes, we can all hear you, Lyle,” I said.
    Lyle’s head snapped up and he spotted me for the first time. “You? What are you doing in my flat? That ginger pest of a friend of yours hasn’t sent you to harass me again, has she?”
    “No, I decided to come and harass you all on my own,” I said. “But speaking of Annabelle, have you seen her recently?”
    “No, thank my lucky stars,” Lyle grumbled. “I haven’t seen her in at least a week. And I still don’t understand why I’m seeing you, especially here in the middle of the— DON’T TOUCH THOSE!”
    Finn froze with his hand on the corner of another heap.
    “Those are very, very