“Alex.” The old man turned to him with new intensity. “If I could do this instead of you, if I could take it away from you, I would. In a heartbeat. But all this is beyond me, son. I’ve never studied the golem stories the way my father did. The procedures. The rules. The name of God. I never wanted to know. And besides: the golem’s tablet, the power, seems to have formed some particular and peculiar connection with you. You told me your blood had touched the tablet. I think maybe it was that: you . . . woke it, and it latched on. It sought out a master. But this is where we are. I need you to try. Just try.”

Alex hunched forward, hugging his knees. Even in the weird circumstances he’d grown used to, it seemed unthinkable. Suddenly, he felt trapped, as if the world and everything in it had conspired to force him into this spot. He was ready to rebel against all of it.

And he realized: there was his solution. Simply refuse. He felt certain that if he just said no right now, his grandfather would accept it. He sensed that the old man hated asking him to try this as much as Alex was loath to think about it.

So that was the answer. Say no, ditch the toy robot, give it to his grandad to get rid of, let the old man get on with his senseless escapades. Alex could leave all the insanity behind. Get back home. Back to life. He looked at his grandad, looking back at him, and made his decision. He would refuse.

“All right. I’ll try.”

Even as he said it, Alex wondered why he was agreeing. Perhaps because of the look in his grandfather’s eyes. Perhaps because he felt certain nothing would happen. Or perhaps because he suddenly thought of Harry as the cheeky little boy in the old photograph, surviving alone through a world at war, smiling. He would try.

“Good man,” his grandfather said quietly. He gave Alex’s arm a squeeze. “Who knows, we might be lucky because of where we are, and when. Powerful place. Things are thin, and getting thinner as Walpurgis approaches. If it doesn’t work, well. We’ll just go back to improvising.”

“Should we . . .” Alex nodded toward the mound of earth. “Uncover him?”

“I don’t think so. I should think that if you can get him all the way back from . . . If you can get him back, the details will take care of themselves. There’s not much over him, anyway. Now, take this. It was Harry’s. Something close to him. Might help you focus.”

He held out an old wristwatch on a worn leather strap. Taking it, Alex found himself staring at the second hand, still moving after its owner had stopped. He pulled the watch on.