"The one I read?" And he'd heard being read to his horse, of all things, by Stephen himself. He was expected to suffer through it again? As luck would have it, though, Asher didn't have anything to play it on. "...I'll cherish it forever."

He'd stuff it in his sock drawer and forget all about it.

The compass was actually sort of neat, and Asher spent a few seconds swiveling it around and watching the arrow move. Unfortunately, it wasn't as neat as Jack Sparrow's, in that it seemed to work properly instead of pointing to whatever he wanted most. He was almost positive that he didn't want the fucking bowl of fruit on the table.

"Thanks. Again."