“The great Wildline legacy, of course.”

In the silence that follows, the sound of footsteps echoes from far down the hall—humanlike, this time, several pairs of boots. If the dragon’s with them, its claws are lost in the noise.

“And that’ll be Leira’s people,” the figure says lightly. “Better hurry.”

chapter four

Olani jumps up and peeks out the door. “Clear for now,” she says. “Raze, what do you want to do?”

“Not so fast,” Isolde says, swiping for the compass. He tries to hold it up out of her reach, but she’s too quick. “We had it first. What legacy?” We all stare at the figure.

“Anyone and anything Leira’s ancestors deemed too dangerous to be out in the world. Some might call it a prison. Some might call it treasure—all hidden away here in one convenient location.”

“Here?” I repeat.

He shrugs. “I was unlucky enough to be on their list. I believe they once called it the Mortal’s Keep. Let me out, and the rest of it’s yours.”

Raze is making a strange face that I can’t read, so focused on the translucent figure he seems to have forgotten that Isolde is still holding the compass. “Why hasn’t Leira freed you yet, then?”

“You don’t think she’s tried? It wouldn’t be a very good prison if I could just tell anyone how to find and unlock it, would it?”

“Sol,” I mutter. A very bad feeling crackles at the edges of my awareness: danger. “Put it back.”

“Someone’s coming,” Olani says from the door.

“Take it now,” the figure says, urgently. “Leira couldn’t figure out how to make the compass work, but you seem like a bright bunch. It could all be yours. Please.” Desperation seeps into his voice.

Isolde looks between me and him, back and forth. “Seelie,” she says. “Treasure.”

I feel the same temptation I see in her eyes, but the awareness that something is wrong here, that this figure isn’t someone to trust, is stronger. I shake my head.

“Please,” he repeats. “Help me.”

“I’ll take it,” Raze offers, reaching for the compass. She pulls it back quickly, swinging her arm in a wide arc away from him.

He grabs for it again, pushing her. His arms are longer, but she’s quicker, and then they’re scuffling. Neither of them draws their daggers, so it’s just a blur of his hands swiping, her arms reaching, elbows knocking into ribs. The ghostly figure flickers in and out of existence as the compass changes hands back and forth.

Something shiny flies across the room as Isolde’s frantic grappling knocks a simple ring from his hand. Raze’s attention switches immediately, a hand closing tight over the compass as his eyes scan the plush carpet for the missing ring.

“Someone’s coming now,” Olani repeats. “We need to go.”

“Olani!” Raze chokes, doubled over with one of Isolde’s arms tight around his throat, but she doesn’t seem to hear. She’s too focused on keeping watch. He holds the compass just out of Isolde’s reach, bending closer to the floor to continue his search, and her fingers tremble with the effort of stretching toward it.