THE NOISES OUTSIDE FRANKIE’S BEDROOM window usually help her sleep. Frogs croaking, witches cackling, wolves howling, and the wet, slurping footfalls of Unseen Things all combine to make a soothing backdrop to her rest. But not tonight. Tonight the frogs are too loud, the witches too annoying, and the wolves too shrill. The slow tread of Unseen Things is nice, but it isn’t enough to drown out everything else.

The electric spinning compass is on her nightstand, a memento from an adventure that is already fading from memory. The compass is useless now, of course. Raven’s enchantment has worn off. And the chisel that was in it is now far away, safe in its socket at Shadow High.

Frankie opens Apple’s backpack. Besides the Mapalogue and the Skullette, there are a few other Apple-y items: a new notebook full of crisp white paper, a sweater in case of a chill, a hat in case of sun, her outdoors-wear tiara, and a packet of unsalted nuts. On a lark, Frankie sticks the tiara in the compass and flips on the power switch. It whirs, the electric motor working just as it should. No magic now, but the soft hum of the machine is soothing, and it drowns out the louder croaks and cackles, so she leaves it on.

And after Frankie drifts to sleep, sometime between night’s depths and its shallows, a spark grows around the tiara. A soft green pulses from the compass, and if someone were watching, they’d see the glow form the barest hint of an arrow pointing west.