Clara shivered, her anger dissipating. She looked up at the moon and stars in the clear night sky.

'When I was a child,' she told Samuel, 'I was told so many stories about you – us, I suppose. The older denizens still reckon the streets were safer before you disappeared.' She looked down at Samuel. Her face was sad. 'Van Bam told me how everything changed after the war, after Fabian Moor. Not exactly catching the Relic Guild at its best, am I?'

'No,' Samuel said softly, 'you're not,' and he crouched again, returning his attentions to the compass on the floor.

Back in the old days, the duties of the Relic Guild had been straightforward. If a treasure hunter brought a magical artefact onto Labrys Town's black market, the Relic Guild would hunt it down and deal with the seller and buyer. But now ...

The Relic Guild had never been officially disbanded, but since the doorways to the Houses of the Aelfir had been closed, there had been nothing for them to do anymore. Samuel couldn't remember the last time a magical artefact had come onto the black market, and no new generation of magickers had been born to replace the agents who had died. But now there was Clara. Now Fabian Moor had returned. Now the Relic Guild had purpose again, even if most of its agents were dead.

'So,' Clara's voice startled Samuel. 'Charlie Hemlock is the only source of information we have.' She pointed at the compass and phial on the forecourt floor. 'And we're going to rescue him from a demon by using bits of his face and a fob watch?'

'This isn't a fob watch, Clara,' Samuel replied. 'It's a spirit compass.'

So saying, he took the compass and unscrewed its cap, revealing the face within.

Clara bent down for a closer look.

'It works with any organic material,' Samuel explained. 'Hair, skin, blood – anything – and it'll track the spirit of the donor.' Samuel pressed the compass face. It gave a click and sprang up on a hinge. 'It was how I was able to track you.'

Beneath the compass face was a hollow interior, like a tiny, flat-bottomed dish, and curled inside was a long, silver-grey hair, thick like twine. Samuel pulled the hair out and offered it to Clara. Tentatively, she took it and frowned.

'It's yours,' Samuel told her. 'A hair from the wolf. I found it on the remains of the man you killed.'

Her expression unreadable, Clara pulled the hair taut between her fingers and studied it. 'I've never seen it, you know,' she said, her tone strange. 'The wolf, I mean. I never remember ... not clearly ...' She released the hair and watched it fall away on the chilly breeze. Her lip trembled. 'I-I don't think I've ever killed anyone before, Samuel.'

Samuel said nothing, uncorked the phial, and began tapping its contents into the hollow interior of the compass.

'I have to ask,' Clara said, her voice small. 'Tonight, out in the Great Labyrinth, if Marney hadn't stopped you—'

'I would've shot you dead,' Samuel replied unhesitatingly.

He looked up at Clara. His blunt answer had obviously offended her. He felt a flush of shame, but saw no point in dressing things up for the young changeling.

'I'm two years away from my seventieth birthday,' he said, 'and I don't expect to reach that age. I've been a bounty hunter since the Genii War ended, Clara. It's how I get by, and I'll give you no apologies or excuses.'

She looked to the floor.

'Clara, you're an agent of the Relic Guild now. We may be shrouded in secrecy, but there's nothing but loyalty to our duties. From here on out, we trust each other.'

'What's done is done, eh?'

'Exactly.'

She nodded, looking like a scolded child. Samuel could see Clara was doing her best to shrug off lingering doubts. He didn't have the heart to tell her they never went away, and resumed filling the compass with dried blood and skin.

'So,' Clara said, 'the spirit compass will lead us to Hemlock.'

The phial empty now, Samuel clicked the compass face back into position, got to his feet and offered Clara a closer look.

'Sounds like magic to me,' she said. 'Where did you find it?'

'A good question. It doesn't exactly belong here, if you follow me.'

'It's a relic?'

Samuel nodded. 'A genuine artefact of the Aelfir.'

Clara's face flowed through a mixture of emotions, but finally she seemed to settle on awe.

Samuel continued. 'Usually, these relics were returned to their proper owners, but we never did discover which House this compass was stolen from.' Samuel allowed her a small smile. 'I like to think of it as a perk of the job.'

'A perk? What does Van Bam think of that?'

'Our Resident could hardly object,' he scoffed. 'Where do you think that cane of his came from?'

Clara laughed then, with genuine humour. It was good to see it on her young face.

'Tell me something,' she said. 'Van Bam is an illusionist, Marney an empath – and how magic touched me certainly isn't a secret anymore – but how did magic touch you, Samuel?'

Samuel didn't answer. The compass was vibrating in his hand.

The needle ticked around the face slowly, and then spun anti-clockwise in a full circle. It stopped, shivering, pointing directly south down Resident Approach. It was a strong reading.

'Got him,' Samuel said. He looked at the sleek black body of the Resident's personal tram sitting on its track in the forecourt. 'Let's go.'