The enormity of it all made it hard for either of them to keep their undivided attention on the Chevys around them.

The roads widened, and soon thousands of lights streamed by on all sides. The city of lights. How would they ever find this festival called “Excalibur”? But none of this prepared them for the final complexity that suddenly altered their relatively successful experience in the Histories thus far.

“Lights, everywhere lights,” Johnis cried. “I can’t see straight for all the lights. Now red and blue lights on top of a Chevy are riding our tail. We have to get out and find our bearings.”

Silvie twisted in her seat and saw the car behind them, red and blue lights flashing on its roof. The driver . . .

She gasped.

“What?”

“He’s a warrior. In uniform! He . . . he’s motioning us to the side!”

“You’re sure?”

A blurp sounded from the car, a horn of some kind, but this one didn’t end. It wailed, rising and falling in a sound that sent chills down Silvie’s spine.

“They’re looking at us,” Johnis said.

“Who is?”

“Everyone!”

And drawing aside, Silvie saw. Not unlike herding hunters pulling wide to give the archer plenty of space for a shot at the prey.

“He’s after us, Johnis!” Panic swelled through her mind. “Go! Run for your life! Get us out of here!”

The Chevy surged forward. Johnis whipped the car around a white one and left it to deal with the hunter behind them. As if they needed any confirmation that they were indeed being hunted, the Chevy with flashing lights veered around the same white car and closed quickly.

“Dear Elyon, help us!” he cried and wound the motor higher.

“Faster.”

“I’m going faster!”

“It’s a race car; make it race!”

Johnis set his jaw the way he had heading into the Black Forest and the Horde city or a dozen other occasions when he’d thrown caution to the wind in favor of principle.

Gripping the wheel with both fists, he swerved first to the left around a third car, then all the way across to the right, racing past the Chevys as if it were now they who were standing still.

“Careful . . .” Silvie cut herself short, thinking that he was actually mastering the Chevy with surprising ease.

The hunter behind had been joined by a second, both wailing as they gave pursuit. “Never mind, go! There!” She pointed at a large green sign that read LAS VEGAS BOULEVARD.

Johnis swerved for the road under the sign and flew down the slope, blaring his own horn to warn the slowing cars to move out of his way.

An obstacle they hadn’t yet seen presented itself ahead: red lights hanging over the road. A dozen Chevys had stopped under them as if facing an invisible wall.

“Johnis . . .”