“Magic?” she asked. “I don’t really feel like walking the rest of the way, either.”

I shook my head. “This old death trap was manufactured damned near a century ago,” I said. “The whole point of driving it is because it can endure exposure to active magical forces and keep going vroom-vroom.” I squinted at the road. “You know. For a while.”

Murphy sighed. “What’s your plan, Harry?”

“We’re going to get out of sight for a second, and then I’m dropping a veil over us,” I said. I thought about it for a second. “We’ll have to stay on the highway. If we pull off to the side, there’s no way I can veil the dust and debris we’d kick up driving on the shoulder.”

“But other cars won’t be able to see us,” Murphy said.

“And we won’t be able to see them very well, either,” I said. “Be like driving in heavy rain.”

She grimaced, clearly unhappy at the entire situation. “And we’re riding in a brick with no handling.”

“A brick that’s heavier than a lot of the trucks on this highway right now,” I said, “and made from all steel. Might not handle or accelerate like a modern car, but it’s not made of drywall and cardboard, either.”

Murphy gave me an impatient look. “Harry, do you even understand that modern engineering means that the lighter cars are actually considerably safer than cars like this one?”

“Not when they hit cars like this one,” I noted.

“Yes, they’re not meant to take dinosaurs into consideration,” she growled.

“Exit coming up,” I said. “Here we go.”

I cut into the right-hand lane and accelerated smoothly and without noticeable effort from the old car. Between my old mechanic Mike and the tinker elves Mab had on call for maintenance and repairs, the Munstermobile purred like a three-thousand-pound kitten.

I went up the ramp with the accelerator mashed flat to the floor, and the cars following me had little choice but to emulate me. I’d timed my exit well, though. I gathered my will as I watched a couple of legitimate vehicles get in the way of my pursuers, and I reached the top of the ramp just in time for the green light. I went right through the intersection, back onto the entry ramp, and back down toward the highway, and as I went, I waved my hand in a gesture reminiscent of drawing a hood up over one’s head, and murmured, “Obscurata.”

There was an odd sensation, like a fine cold mist drifting down over me, and the interior of the car dimmed, as though heavy clouds had suddenly obscured the light, to the point where you’d have trouble telling what time it was by looking at the position of the sun.

Visibility dropped suddenly and dramatically. Magic is awesome, but you don’t get anything for free—mess around with how much light is going to bounce off your body, and you’re also futzing about with how much light makes it to your eyeballs, and for that matter how much light is available to do things like keep you warm. Going unseen isn’t a super complicated operation—doing it without blinding and freezing yourself is the hard part. I had settled on developing a veiling spell that would split the difference between visibility and comfort—by choice, obviously, and not because it was totally not my area of natural talent—and as a result, looking out of my veil was only a little easier than seeing into it. The world went dim, and just as it did, Murphy sat up straight, her eyes bright.

“Hey,” she said. “Does this spell stop radar?”

“Uh,” I said. I was already holding on to a veil and driving faster than was strictly safe, and my attention can only split so many ways. “Not mine. Molly’s will stop almost everything, but I only bother with visible light becau—”

Murphy reached over while I was still talking and pushed down on my right knee, hard, pressing the accelerator flat again. “Faster.”

I gave her an annoyed look and then did it. The old engine gave a game growl and we gathered speed going down the on-ramp, rapidly reaching speeds that would preclude any chance of getting off with a warning.

I checked the rearview mirror in time to see our entourage come barreling onto the entry ramp behind us—

—just as my more-or-less-invisible car passed a pair of highway patrol vehicles poised on the side of the ramp, watching for speeders to come sailing under the bridge.

I had a chance to see both highway patrol officers come to attention behind the wheel, their eyes on their radar-gun readouts, then switching to the apparently empty road—and both men locked eyes on our pursuers, the only apparent visible source of the readings on their instruments.

I flashed by them and just had time to see their bubs coming on before they vanished into the obscurement generated by my veil.

“Oh,” I said to Murphy in admiration. “That’s just mean.”

“Right?” she asked me, smiling. She patted my leg and said, “Good job following directions.”

Which was another way to say, Thank you for trusting me.

I chewed on my lip. If I drove in the right lane, I’d have to go slow to avoid problems, and I’d have to dodge anyone trying to make it over for the exits. If I drove in the far left, I’d run the risk of idiots just slamming into me from behind. I liked my chances better in a lower-speed accident, so I got behind a truck in the right-hand lane, crept up close enough that he couldn’t have seen me in his mirrors, and stayed there.

“Aren’t you worried about people flipping out when you appear all of a sudden?” she asked.

“Ah,” I said. “Not so much. People work really hard not to notice unusual things, generally speaking. You know the drill by now.” I shrugged. “Most people have encountered something that looks damned peculiar, that just doesn’t fit. And mostly they explain it away, no matter how thin the explanation sounds, or they just don’t think about it. Everyone says they want magic, but no one really wants to feel confused and frightened, or stay awake at night worried about dark forces they can do nothing about.”

“And magic is that,” she said.

“That’s some of what magic is,” I said. “It’s also a lot of good stuff. Like all power. It depends on what you do with it.”

“And yet, like all power,” Murphy said, “it tends to corrupt.”

Well.

Tough to argue with that.

The number of people capable of wielding Power, or power, responsibly was never exactly going to threaten the world food supply.

Out of the mist of my veil’s obscurement, the Jeep that had been following us appeared. It pulled up directly behind me and then flashed its headlights in three quick signals.

“I handled the other two,” Murphy said. “This one is yours.”

“Yeah,” I said, peering at the rearview mirror. Then I dropped the veil abruptly, hit my right blinker, and took the next exit ramp. Murphy arched an eyebrow but looked at me. I pulled off to the side of the road, and the Jeep pulled up behind me.

“Is that who I think it is?” Murphy asked.

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Contracted him to help out.”

Murphy eyed me and said, “Huh. Maybe you do learn. Eventually.”

“Amazing, right?” I leaned back and way over and unlocked the rear passenger-side door.