“Olani, now!” Raze and the girl both lunge forward. I’m pretty sure they don’t know what they’re grabbing for; they just don’t want us to have it. I shove myself forward, too. I may not have a weapon, but at least I can stand between them and my sister. Unless she meant for me to run, in which case I’m in trouble.

Raze trips over me, dropping to the floor for the second time, and this time taking me with him. We land in a heap, cushioned by the soft carpet, and Olani leaps over us to make another grab at Isolde, who dodges nimbly out of the way.

“Well, this is new.” I can’t see the speaker, but it definitely isn’t any of the four of us. The voice sounds lazy, almost amused, and as cold as ice cracking over a frozen river.

Caught, I think through total panic. Caught, caught, caught. I kick Raze viciously away, not caring where I hit him as long as it untangles our limbs.

He doesn’t resist. He’s perfectly still.

I look up in the direction of his gaze and see a figure standing in the display case...or perhaps the display case is standing in him. He’s tall and ghostly pale, slightly translucent, and I can make out the glass through his torso. He looks down at himself, a little annoyed, and steps forward to remove the offending furniture from his lower half.

“What an interesting bunch,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve seen any of you before. Oh, is this a heist?”

Isolde and I exchange a look. I don’t know what he is, but he isn’t human. And I don’t think he’s any kind of sentinel guarding this space, because he doesn’t seem particularly upset that we’re in here. Her eyes dart from me to the compass in her palm. “It’s broken,” she murmurs. “The needle doesn’t move.” She looks up at the figure. “Is this yours?”

His lips twist. “I suppose you could say that.”

Olani snatches the compass from Isolde’s hand. In the brief second that it passes from palm to palm, the figure flickers and disappears, before crackling back into existence. “I’d prefer if one of you would hold onto that,” he snaps. “It’s very disorienting going back and forth like this.”

“What are you?” Raze’s voice is soft as he stands up, peering more closely at the ghostly figure until they’re practically nose-to-nose.

“If this is a heist,” the figure says, ignoring Raze’s question and looking at each of us in turn instead, “you’d better get on with it. I’ve been in Leira’s keeping too long, I think, and I can’t imagine her letting you just stroll out of here if you keep wasting time.”

I finally find my voice and blurt, “So you’re...in the compass?”

“Something like that.” He smirks again. “But think of it less as a compass and more as a guide.”

“A guide to what?” Raze asks, reaching to the tall girl to take the compass. She hands it over easily. The figure flickers but quickly schools his irritated expression, meeting Raze’s eyes with a slow smile.