“Hmm,” Alex’s grandfather said. “Let’s try it again.”

They repeated the procedure four times in random directions. In each case, Harry knew exactly where Alex was.

“Fascinating. Ah well.” The old man slapped his hands together, dismissing the issue. “Back to business.”

“What? No, wait!” Alex said. “What does it mean?”

“Beats me,” his grandfather said. “Interesting, though. Harry, are you hungry at all?”

Harry pursed his lips. “Now you mention it, I am a little peckish.”

“Marvelous food at the hotel not far from here,” Alex’s grandfather said eagerly. “Shouldn’t take too long to walk.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Alex spluttered. “We—”

“We need to regroup, Alex, refuel. Besides, we’re not much use on foot, and unless you suggest hijacking a passing vehicle, which is something I’ve tried to give up, our best bet is to arrange another car at the hotel. But before that: Alex, I need you to do something. You still have the flier?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you need to give it up. Here and now.”

“But—”

“No buts. Yes, I heard what you said: you can do it, and it’s useful, and you think you can control it, and control yourself. I wonder though. If you get a taste for this little machine, then what about the next thing you’re offered? Something a little more potent, perhaps, something that takes a little more out of you? Or something that requires you to give it something else, not of your own? How far down that road do you think you can go before there’s no turning back? You have no idea what you’re dealing with, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I have a basic rule, Alex: if we have to resort to using the other side’s methods to win, then maybe winning’s not worth it.”

“You stick by it when it suits you,” Alex muttered.

Harry said nothing. He stood watching them pensively.

“I have neither the time nor the inclination to argue, Alex,” his grandfather said. “Give it up here, or we go no farther together. So. You have a decision to make.”

Alex looked from the old man, very tired but doing a good job of hiding it, to Harry, who shuffled from one foot to another. It seemed as if the whole world was watching, waiting. The weight of it all came down on him, and then, as if in response, came a sudden light, exhilarating memory of his soaring flight with the machine.

He sighed, sagged in defeat, and pulled the flier from his coat, offering it to his grandfather. “You’re right. What do we do with it, then?”

“Well.” The old man straightened, as if a burden had been lifted. He gestured to the roadside. “Burying it should do the job.”