I was rudely kicked awake by Gothgirl. Because I had a compass, I seemed to be the current leader.
"So, where exactly we goin'?" I asked. I was leading the group and just walking north. "We lookin' for some kinda' book? I heard sum'in' about that."
"We're trying to find who took the book," Ms. Journalist replied.
"Of course we are," I said. "I should be able to find him easily. For someone supposedly magical, he had quite a few weapons on him. Most of them magnetic. How do I know? This compass isn't pointing north. If the sun rises in the East, and it's early morning, the sun should still be in the east of the sky. I look to the sun, and I know which way is East, West, North, and South. This compass is being affected by another magnetic field other than the North Pole. A fairly close one, too."
Everyone stared at me, like I was speaking Russian or something. 'Course, Mr. Fophat would probably know that language.
"Lead us, then," Fophat said bitterly. "How do you know it's not just a large lump of iron?"
"Because, Monsieur a la Foppy, there aren't too many lumps of iron just lying around a field," I responded.
Monsieur a la Fophat didn't seem to like that, but he kept his mouth shut.
"Our man should be just yonder," I said, pointing. "The angle difference between north and the compass's distortion, when divided by the mass of the object causing the distortion, should tell us approximately where the thing we're tracking is. Either that or someone's tampered with the compass."