The Harrow River cuts a sharp curve across the map like the slash of a dagger. One side is taken up by the Western Mountains, a range of rocky cliffs on the opposite side of the continent from the foothills of the Eastern Range, where I’ve spent my entire life.

The Eastern Range butts up against the sea, dropping down in a sheer sheet of rock. I’ve never been as far as the Western Mountains, but I know they’re the border between us and the Dragon Lands, a plateau of active volcanoes, covered in sleek obsidian and riddled with unmarked gateways to the Unseelie Realm. So, basically, uninhabitable for pretty much any other species besides the one that gave the land its name, back before fire-breathing dragons were hunted to extinction.

Throughout the ages, more than one power-hungry half-wit has had the brilliant idea that a mountain castle overlooking the Dragon Lands would be badass, inevitably ending in disaster and littering the cliffs of the Western Mountains with grander, stranger ruins than the normal ones scattered from sea to sea. It’s this border that’s been marked up the most on Leira’s map, concentric circles closing in on a spot she can’t seem to find. Some of the circles are crossed out with violent slashes.

I freeze uncertainly, but Isolde takes a step closer to the case and peers inside. “It’s just a compass,” she says.

The door bursts open, and the red-headed boy from earlier tumbles inside, landing in a heap at my feet. I step back, stifling a scream with my hands over my mouth, as he glares up at me from the floor. “You!”

“You!” I echo.

Isolde’s knife is already drawn. “Who’s this?”

“By all means, Raze, bust the door down.” The girl he was with follows him inside, pulling the door half-closed behind her. The boy stands up with as much dignity as he has left, which isn’t much, hand resting on the hilt of his own dagger.

The four of us stare at each other.

Finally, the tall girl breaks the silence. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

Isolde’s blade twists lazily in her fingers. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Okay, clearly we’re all breaking in.” Raze says it good-naturedly, but there’s an edge to his smile I don’t like. “But you see, changeling, it was our idea first.”

At the word changeling, Isolde shoots me a wide-eyed look. Then she smooths her face out again, addressing him. “Well, we got here first.”

I feel like I should say something, like maybe if I was cleverer there would be a perfect string of words that would make everyone put their knives down, but I’m too tongue-tied. At least it doesn’t look like they’re going to turn us in.

Raze looks past us, taking in the room. His smile flickers, and he lets his hand drop. “I have to admit, it’s a disappointment.”

“Hoping for treasure?” Isolde’s tone drips honey, as if mocking him for the exact same thing we were doing. Before he can respond, she flicks the case open and snatches the compass.