Flyte

Septimus was right. The horse, and riders that Marcia had found in her Remote Search were in fact Jake and Betty Jago, who ran a small market garden in the Farmlands and were on their way to visit Betty's mother in The Ramblings. But far away, trotting through the apple orchards of the lowland hills, was another black horse with two riders: one small and dark-haired, with a gold circlet around her head, the other tall and wild-eyed, with his long straw-colored hair streaming back from his face as he pushed his tiring horse onward.



As he rode, Simon was occupied with his thoughts. He was amazed that it had all been so easy. When he had ridden into the Palace, Simon had expected, at the very least, to be stopped and questioned. But there had been no one there, and so, he thought with a grim smile, the Heaps only had themselves to blame. Because Simon had not really expected to snatch Jenna so easily, he felt a little scared of his own success. He was afraid she might be troublesome; he knew she had a mind of her own and remembered her throwing some serious tantrums when she was little, although he had always been able to make her laugh and forget about whatever was troubling her.



Simon shook his head crossly to rid himself of any fond memories he might have of his little adopted sister whom he had lived with and loved for the first ten years of her life. That, he told himself sternly, was the past. Marcia Overstrand had marched into their lives on Jenna's tenth birthday and ruined everything, and that had been the end of his family as he knew it. The last straw was when his parents were duped by that boy from the Young Army into thinking he was their precious seventh son and, to top it all, the upstart got the only thing that Simon had ever wantedthe ExtraOrdinary Apprenticeship. Now he cared for no oneexcept for Lucy Gringe.



If Simon had not been able to snatch Jenna, he had planned to take Lucy away with him that day. But work had to come first.



Simon was a conscientious Apprentice, who had been busy doing his Master's bidding for the past year. He had not been looking forward to snatching Jenna, but orders were orders. It had to be done. Lucy would have to wait a little longeralthough just at that moment, Simon would have much preferred it be Lucy sitting on his horse, laughing as they cantered through the apple orchards, rather than Princess stony-faced Jenna, who sat like a rock in front of him.



Apart from her few months spent in the Marram Marshes, Jenna had never been out of the Castle before, and she was struck by how green and varied the Farmlands were. If she had been with anyone but Simon it would have been a wonderful journey. The sun was hot but not oppressively so; since the bright blue skies of the early morning, a few clouds had drifted in from the west and taken the edge off the heat. Simon had allowed Thunder to slow down to a brisk trot and occasionally the horse fell into a leisurely walk as they reached a small incline. Jenna could not stop herself from gazing around and being amazed at how beautiful the countryside was.



Jenna was not going to give Simon the satisfaction of seeing how scared she was. She sat stiff and upright, using her riding skills to go with the horse as he made his way along the endless dusty tracks weaving through the Farmlands, which stretched for miles on the other side of the river.



They had stopped once by a stream on the edge of a hay meadow to give the horse a drink and to allow him to graze for a while. Simon had offered Jenna some food, but she had refused; she was not hungry. Like the horse, Jenna drank from the stream, and when Simon had said it was time to move on she had made a run for it, dashing across the shallow stream and down a narrow track. At the end of the track Jenna could see a small house with an old woman sitting outside, dozing in the shade. But as she hurtled along the dusty path, she heard the sound of Thunder galloping up behind her, and in a moment Simon had grabbed her and lifted her roughly back into the saddle. They did not stop again.



As the day wore on, the lush meadows of the river flood-plain gave way to the gently sloping hills of the Lowlands. The soft fruit crops and orchards of the small farms and market gardens changed to hillsides of vines, and still Thunder carried on, climbing upward as the hills became more pronounced and the misty blues and purples of the Border Mountains began to rise before them.



Now Jenna began to realize that Simon was not going to let her go. For much of the morning she had hoped that whatever strange joke he was playing on her would soon come to an end, that he would suddenly turn Thunder around and canter back to the Castle. Jenna had even decided exactly what she was going to say to him when they got back, and once or twice she thought he was about to do just that. But Thunder carried on, now walking more often than trotting, as the hills became steeper and the air clearer and more chill.



It was late afternoon, and they had reached the grim slate quarries in the sheep-filled foothills of the Badlands, when Jenna at last broke the heavy silence between them. ''Why are you taking me away, Simon?" Jenna asked. "Where are we going?"



Simon did not reply. But, as Jenna looked ahead to the looming mass of the Border Mountains, she already knew the answer to her second question. And she wasn't sure she really wanted to hear the answer to her first.