So that's why it's called the 'Locking Compass.' That makes sense, Ed thought, observing the disc seriously.
Magic flowed down his arm and into the compass. Its material seemed to be some kind of magic-friendly alloy, easily accepting the infusion. The patterns and spells on its surface glowed faintly, and a pointer floated up out of thin air, its tip pointing steadfastly in one direction. No matter how Ed turned or rearranged the compass, it always pointed there.
"It seems the [Pointer] has been locked," Lucilia said, hugging him from behind. Her ample bosom rested against his head as she leaned her face in front of his to observe the compass carefully. The pointer faded as Ed severed the magic connection, but its intended destination remained unclear.
He placed the compass on the book. The heavy tome was like a brick, its cover blank save for the symbol of "Isolation." It seemed to be a precious volume.
