Free The Night Tourist by Katherine Marsh Page A

shrugged. “Well, we already knew that.”
    “Is there anything there about Clubber?” Jack asked, remembering the professor’s warning.
    Euri shook her head. “Not that I see.” She kept on reading. “‘There are also five other rules that govern their visits:
    “‘1) Like the dead, after dusk, living visitors to the New York underworld can remain belowground or venture above it (going aboveground, however, will not return them to the living world—see rule five for information on return trips). While in either place, living visitors can see and be seen by the dead and are invisible to the living. They also can engage in transmobility and flight, but only if physically assisted by one of the dead .
    “‘2) Living visitors should refrain from eating and drinking while visiting the New York underworld.
    EVEN IF THEY FIND THEMSELVES AT AN IMPOSSIBLE-TO-RESERVE RESTAURANT . The smallest bite of fricassee of frog legs or sip of pomegranate martini can lead to a permanent stay.
    “‘3) Past visits are no guarantee of future returns. A golden bough is good for one, and only one, entry. The living should not assume that because they have found a golden bough once that they will be able to find another one repeatedly and at will.
    “‘4) The New York underworld is not responsible for lost items—including watches, cell phones, wallets, and other valuables, such as minds and spouses. If a living person leaves behind any of these during his visit, he should abandon all hope that he will ever get them back.
    “‘5) And most important of all, the only way for living visitors to return to the living world is through their original port of entry. Return trips are valid any day or night, except if a living person has stayed in the underworld for more than three nights. After this time, the strain of death on the living body becomes too much, and the visitor will be unable to return to the world of the living.’”
    “Three nights?” said Jack. “I’m not going to stay that long.”
    “You could, though, if you wanted,” said Euri.
    Jack ignored her. “What I still don’t understand is why I was able to see you in Grand Central. According to the guide, I shouldn’t have seen you until I crossed into the underworld.”
    “You already had your golden bough,” said Euri. “Maybe it gave you special powers.”
    “But I saw other ghosts before I found it.”
    Euri frowned. “I thought it was just one other.”
    “I think I saw a couple at the hospital after I woke up.”
    “Well, I’m glad the whole underworld’s met you by now!”
    Jack rushed to reassure her. “You’re the first one I talked to. The rest of them seemed too scared.”
    This was a little bit of a lie—the ghosts in the hospital hadn’t even seen him—but Euri looked pleased to hear it. “I told you most ghosts aren’t good with the living,” she said.
    Jack closed the Unofficial Guide and put it in his backpack with Viele’s map. “Let’s go find my mom.”
    “It shouldn’t be hard now,” Euri said. “All we need to do is find those records.”
    She pulled Jack up so they were standing on the eagle’s neck and then led him forward until they were wobbling in the wind on top of the eagle’s head, seventy stories above the street. “Can you go slow?” he asked, trying to look anywhere but down.
    With a glint in her eye, Euri squeezed his hand and jumped.

XV | Show Time
    “Ahhhhh!” screamed Jack as they pitched headlong toward the street. He could hear the rush of the air as he fell, and above it, Euri’s high-pitched cackles. A hundred feet from the ground she stopped short and hovered.
    “I hate you,” Jack said, as soon as he’d caught his breath.
    “Come on! It was fun.”
    He glared at her.
    “Oh, all right. I’ll take it slower now, okay?”
    As they chugged along at the same cautious speed as the old ghosts, he started to think about St. James. He was certain it was a church. It made sense that records for