Flyte
Chapter 19 The Sheeplands
Dawn was breaking when Thunder's hooves slipped and slid around the last bend of a shale-covered footpath, and Jenna saw to her delight that at long last they had reached the end of the Badlands. Stanley saw nothing. The rat was clinging to the edge of the saddle with his eyes tightly closed, convinced that any minute now all three of them would be plunging over the edge of the path to the rocks below.
Jenna stopped for a moment and gazed out across the wide flat fields of the Sheeplands, which were spread out before them. It was beautiful, and it reminded her of the first morning she had woken up at Aunt Zelda's and sat on the doorstep watching and listening to the Marsh. Far away on the horizon a brilliant band of pink clouds showed where the sun was rising, while the fields themselves were still shrouded with the soft gray light of early dawn. Pockets of mist lay over the water channels and the marshy parts of the fields, and a peaceful silence filled the air.
"We've done it, Thunder," Jenna said with a laugh, patting the horse's neck. "We've done it, boy."
The horse shook his head and snorted as he breathed in the salty air that was blowing in from the sea on the other side of the Sheeplands. Jenna led Thunder down onto a wide grassy track and then let the horse loose to graze on the springy grass, while Stanley lay sprawled across the saddle, snoring loudly, having at last fallen into an exhausted sleep.
Jenna sat on the edge of the track and leaned back against the foot of the slate cliff. She felt ravenous. She rummaged through Simon's saddlebag and found a stale loaf, a small box of dried fruits and a rather battered and bruised apple. Jenna ate the lot and washed it down with a drink from an ice-cold spring that bubbled at the base of the cliff. Then she sat and gazed at the mist, which was slowly disappearing to reveal the round woolly shapes of grazing sheep dotted across the pastures.
The peaceful silence, broken only by the steady munching of the horse and the occasional cry of a lone marsh bird, made Jenna feel very drowsy. She tried to fight the urge to fall asleep, but it was impossible. A few moments later, she was curled up in Lucy's cloak, deep in a dreamless sleep.
At the very moment Jenna fell asleep, Simon awoke. He sat up in his bed, aching all over and feeling irritable. He was not sure why. And then he remembered. Jenna. He had snatched Jenna. He had done itdone what had been asked of him. His Master, Simon thought as he got out of bed, would be pleased. But Simon had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that would not go away. For now he had the second part of his task to fulfill. He had to take Jenna down to the Magog lair. He wandered into the Observatory and noticed that Sleuth was not at its post guarding his bedroom door.
"Sleuth!" Simon yelled angrily, expecting the ball to come bouncing over to him. "Sleuth!" There was no response. Feeling even more irritable, Simon padded across the cold and clammy slate in his bare feet to fix a glass of Nekawa to settle his nerves. Carefully, he poured a muddy brown liquid with tendrils of floating mold into a tall glass, cracked a raw egg into it and gulped it down. It tasted foul.
Feeling more awake, Simon looked around the slate chamber to see where Sleuth had gone. Sleuth would regret leaving its post when Simon found it, he'd make sure of that
"What the-what's going on?" Simon raced over to the cell door.
The Jenna-sized slab of chocolate lay flat on the floor, and Simon did not need to open the cell to know that he would not find Jenna inside. But he opened it anyway, angrily throwing the door back so that it hit the wall with a violent bang and promptly shattered into thousands of pieces of the very best chocolate.
Simon swore. All his hopes vanished at the sight of the empty cell. He threw himself to the floor and had a few minutes of what Sarah Heap used to call "tantrum time" before he finally got up from the floor and began to think again. Jenna couldn't have got far. He would send Sleuth after her with a Tag.
"Sleuth!" Simon yelled furiously at the top of his voice. "Sleuth! If you don't come out right now you will be sorry. Extremely sorry!"
There was no response. Simon stood in the silent Observatory and smiled to himself. Now he knew what had happened: Jenna had taken Sleuth with her. The silly kid had thought that Sleuth was just a handy light. He'd find them both down in the Burrow. Simon's musings were interrupted by a strange sound coming from the Glo Grub Tub. He went over and found the lid was locked. That was oddhe couldn't remember locking the Tub; in fact he never bothered to lock the Glo Grubsthey were all too scared to even try to escape. So what had he done with the key? And what was that noise? Simon put his ear to the Tub and heard the unmistakable sound of bouncing. Bouncing? Sleuth!
After giving up the search for the key, Simon took a crowbar to the lid and levered it off. Sleuth shot out like a cork from a bottle, showering Simon with hundreds of sticky Glo Grubs.
"Right!" yelled Simon. "That's it! She's in for it now. Tag on Jenna, Sleuth. Go!" Simon hurled the sticky green ball across the Observatory and followed it as it bounced past the skull, through the archway and shot off on the long descent down the steps. Sleuth and Simon reached the bottom of the steps, skidded on the Magog slime and raced along the passage that led to the old Wurm Chamber.
"She'll be down here, Sleuth," Simon puffed as they neared the Wurm Chamber. "Down here, scared out of her wits. Or maybe she's done me a favor and found herself a nice Magog. Save me a lot of trouble that would, Sleuth. Heycareful, you stupid ball." Simon ducked to avoid Sleuth as the ball suddenly bounced back at him. "Just get in there, will you?" he shouted. "This is no time to be playing games." The ball tried again but bounced back and hit Simon on the nose. Furious, Simon snatched up the ball and strode into the Wurm Chamberstraight into the thick slimy hide of a Land Wurm.
Simon recoiled in shock. What had happened? How on earth had the Land Wurm got in? And then a terrible thought struck Simon.
"My horse!" he screamed. "It's eaten my horse!"
Jenna woke with a start from a bad dream. She sat up awkwardly, feeling cold and damp, to find she was surrounded by a circle of curious sheep, lazily chewing the grass around her. Jenna stood and stretched. She had wasted enough time asleep; she and Thunder had to get moving and somehow Jenna had to get to Aunt Zelda's. She climbed into the saddle while Stanley snored on.
"Stanley," said Jenna, shaking the rat awake.
"Wherrr...?" mumbled the rat, half opening his eyes and gazing blearily at Jenna.
"Stanley, I want you to take a message to Aunt Zelda. You know where she lives and"
Stanley raised a paw in protest. "Let me stop you right there," he said. "Just so that we understand each other, I do not take messages anymore. Absolutely, no way, do I perform the duties of a Message Rat. My license was revoked after that nasty business with the ExtraOrdinary, and I have positively no wish to venture into the Message Rat area of operations again. Ever. No, sir. I mean Madam."
"But it's MidSummer Day tomorrow, Stanley, and I" protested Jenna.
"And, if you think I am going out onto those wretched marshes again you are sadly mistaken. It was a miracle I survived the last journey what with the Marsh Python eyeing me up for supper and those vicious Brownies with their little teeth snap, snap, snapping at my feet, not to mention that moaning-minnie of a Marsh Moaner following me, wailing in my ear and driving me crazy. Ghastly place. Why a cultured young person like yourself wants to set foot in that pestilential pit again is beyond me. If you take my advice I'd"
"So that's a 'no' then, is it?" Jenna sighed.
"Yes. I mean no. I mean yes it's a 'no'." The rat sat up in the saddle and looked around him. "It's nice here, isn't it?" he said. "Came here on holiday with my ma when I was a little lad. We had some relations who lived in the ditches that run out of the Marshes to the sea. Lovely sand dunes down on the beach and convenient for the Port if you hitched a ride on a donkey cart"Stanley shivered"or preferably a fast horse. We had some good times hanging out down at the Port when I was a teenager. Lots of rats there. You wouldn't believe the things that went on. I remember"
"Stanley," said Jenna, an idea forming in her mind. "Does that mean you know the way to the Port?"
"Of course," said Stanley indignantly. "As a member of the Secret Rat Service, you can rely on me to get you anywhere. I am as good as a map. Better than a map, in fact. I have it all in my head, see"the rat tapped the side of his head"I can go anywhere, I can."
"Apart from the Marram Marshes," observed Jenna.
"Yes. Well. The Special Marsh Rats do that. More fool, them. Like I said, I am not setting foot in that noxious swamp ever again."
"Ah, well. Walk on," said Jenna, giving Thunder a gentle nudge with her heels.
"Very well then," said Stanley, "if you feel like that about it." The rat jumped from the saddle and landed a little awkwardly on the grass.
Jenna stopped the horse.
"Stanley, what are you doing?" she asked.
"What you told me to do," said Stanley grumpily. "I'm walking."
Jenna laughed. "I was talking to the foorse, silly. Get back up here."
"Oh. Thought you were cross I wouldn't take you through the Marshes."
"Don't be daft, Stanley. Just get back on the horse and show me the way to the Port. I can remember the way to Aunt Zelda's from there."
"You sure?"
"Yes. Please, Stanley."
Stanley took a running jump, leaped into the air and landed lightly behind Jenna.
It was a beautiful summer's morning. The Sheeplands stretched before them, and on the horizon in the far distance Jenna could see the thin, brilliant white line of the sea glinting as the early-morning sunlight glanced off the water.
A firm, gravelly track took Thunder, Jenna and Stanley across the pastures, leading them along invisible boundaries, past lambing pens and the occasional reed bed and over wide plank bridges that crossed the water channels running from the Marshes on their way to the sea. Jenna let the horse amble slowly along and stop whenever he wanted to snatch at a tasty-looking tuft of grass and munch on it as he went. As the heat of the sun began to burn off the last of the mist, which still hung over the water channels, Jenna relt the dampness in her clothes evaporate, and at last she began to feel warm.
But as the chill from the Badlands left her, Jenna started to think more clearly. And the first thing she thought about was Simon. What was he doing now? Anxiously, Jenna glanced behind her. The steep black rock of the slate quarries rose from the flat Sheeplands like a cliff from the sea; above it lay the low gray cloud, casting a deep shadow. The Badlands were still too close for Jenna's liking; she needed to put some distance between them.
"Gee up, Thunder," said Jenna, urging the horse into a brisk walk and resisting taking him into a trot. She knew Thunder must be tired and they still had a long day's ride to the Port ahead of them. Behind her the rat sat up perkily on the horse's back, hanging on to the saddle with one paw with the air of a seasoned rider. Jenna turned around again and checked the Badlands. Suddenly she had an uncomfortable feeling that her escape had been discovered.
Jenna stopped for a moment and gazed out across the wide flat fields of the Sheeplands, which were spread out before them. It was beautiful, and it reminded her of the first morning she had woken up at Aunt Zelda's and sat on the doorstep watching and listening to the Marsh. Far away on the horizon a brilliant band of pink clouds showed where the sun was rising, while the fields themselves were still shrouded with the soft gray light of early dawn. Pockets of mist lay over the water channels and the marshy parts of the fields, and a peaceful silence filled the air.
"We've done it, Thunder," Jenna said with a laugh, patting the horse's neck. "We've done it, boy."
The horse shook his head and snorted as he breathed in the salty air that was blowing in from the sea on the other side of the Sheeplands. Jenna led Thunder down onto a wide grassy track and then let the horse loose to graze on the springy grass, while Stanley lay sprawled across the saddle, snoring loudly, having at last fallen into an exhausted sleep.
Jenna sat on the edge of the track and leaned back against the foot of the slate cliff. She felt ravenous. She rummaged through Simon's saddlebag and found a stale loaf, a small box of dried fruits and a rather battered and bruised apple. Jenna ate the lot and washed it down with a drink from an ice-cold spring that bubbled at the base of the cliff. Then she sat and gazed at the mist, which was slowly disappearing to reveal the round woolly shapes of grazing sheep dotted across the pastures.
The peaceful silence, broken only by the steady munching of the horse and the occasional cry of a lone marsh bird, made Jenna feel very drowsy. She tried to fight the urge to fall asleep, but it was impossible. A few moments later, she was curled up in Lucy's cloak, deep in a dreamless sleep.
At the very moment Jenna fell asleep, Simon awoke. He sat up in his bed, aching all over and feeling irritable. He was not sure why. And then he remembered. Jenna. He had snatched Jenna. He had done itdone what had been asked of him. His Master, Simon thought as he got out of bed, would be pleased. But Simon had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that would not go away. For now he had the second part of his task to fulfill. He had to take Jenna down to the Magog lair. He wandered into the Observatory and noticed that Sleuth was not at its post guarding his bedroom door.
"Sleuth!" Simon yelled angrily, expecting the ball to come bouncing over to him. "Sleuth!" There was no response. Feeling even more irritable, Simon padded across the cold and clammy slate in his bare feet to fix a glass of Nekawa to settle his nerves. Carefully, he poured a muddy brown liquid with tendrils of floating mold into a tall glass, cracked a raw egg into it and gulped it down. It tasted foul.
Feeling more awake, Simon looked around the slate chamber to see where Sleuth had gone. Sleuth would regret leaving its post when Simon found it, he'd make sure of that
"What the-what's going on?" Simon raced over to the cell door.
The Jenna-sized slab of chocolate lay flat on the floor, and Simon did not need to open the cell to know that he would not find Jenna inside. But he opened it anyway, angrily throwing the door back so that it hit the wall with a violent bang and promptly shattered into thousands of pieces of the very best chocolate.
Simon swore. All his hopes vanished at the sight of the empty cell. He threw himself to the floor and had a few minutes of what Sarah Heap used to call "tantrum time" before he finally got up from the floor and began to think again. Jenna couldn't have got far. He would send Sleuth after her with a Tag.
"Sleuth!" Simon yelled furiously at the top of his voice. "Sleuth! If you don't come out right now you will be sorry. Extremely sorry!"
There was no response. Simon stood in the silent Observatory and smiled to himself. Now he knew what had happened: Jenna had taken Sleuth with her. The silly kid had thought that Sleuth was just a handy light. He'd find them both down in the Burrow. Simon's musings were interrupted by a strange sound coming from the Glo Grub Tub. He went over and found the lid was locked. That was oddhe couldn't remember locking the Tub; in fact he never bothered to lock the Glo Grubsthey were all too scared to even try to escape. So what had he done with the key? And what was that noise? Simon put his ear to the Tub and heard the unmistakable sound of bouncing. Bouncing? Sleuth!
After giving up the search for the key, Simon took a crowbar to the lid and levered it off. Sleuth shot out like a cork from a bottle, showering Simon with hundreds of sticky Glo Grubs.
"Right!" yelled Simon. "That's it! She's in for it now. Tag on Jenna, Sleuth. Go!" Simon hurled the sticky green ball across the Observatory and followed it as it bounced past the skull, through the archway and shot off on the long descent down the steps. Sleuth and Simon reached the bottom of the steps, skidded on the Magog slime and raced along the passage that led to the old Wurm Chamber.
"She'll be down here, Sleuth," Simon puffed as they neared the Wurm Chamber. "Down here, scared out of her wits. Or maybe she's done me a favor and found herself a nice Magog. Save me a lot of trouble that would, Sleuth. Heycareful, you stupid ball." Simon ducked to avoid Sleuth as the ball suddenly bounced back at him. "Just get in there, will you?" he shouted. "This is no time to be playing games." The ball tried again but bounced back and hit Simon on the nose. Furious, Simon snatched up the ball and strode into the Wurm Chamberstraight into the thick slimy hide of a Land Wurm.
Simon recoiled in shock. What had happened? How on earth had the Land Wurm got in? And then a terrible thought struck Simon.
"My horse!" he screamed. "It's eaten my horse!"
Jenna woke with a start from a bad dream. She sat up awkwardly, feeling cold and damp, to find she was surrounded by a circle of curious sheep, lazily chewing the grass around her. Jenna stood and stretched. She had wasted enough time asleep; she and Thunder had to get moving and somehow Jenna had to get to Aunt Zelda's. She climbed into the saddle while Stanley snored on.
"Stanley," said Jenna, shaking the rat awake.
"Wherrr...?" mumbled the rat, half opening his eyes and gazing blearily at Jenna.
"Stanley, I want you to take a message to Aunt Zelda. You know where she lives and"
Stanley raised a paw in protest. "Let me stop you right there," he said. "Just so that we understand each other, I do not take messages anymore. Absolutely, no way, do I perform the duties of a Message Rat. My license was revoked after that nasty business with the ExtraOrdinary, and I have positively no wish to venture into the Message Rat area of operations again. Ever. No, sir. I mean Madam."
"But it's MidSummer Day tomorrow, Stanley, and I" protested Jenna.
"And, if you think I am going out onto those wretched marshes again you are sadly mistaken. It was a miracle I survived the last journey what with the Marsh Python eyeing me up for supper and those vicious Brownies with their little teeth snap, snap, snapping at my feet, not to mention that moaning-minnie of a Marsh Moaner following me, wailing in my ear and driving me crazy. Ghastly place. Why a cultured young person like yourself wants to set foot in that pestilential pit again is beyond me. If you take my advice I'd"
"So that's a 'no' then, is it?" Jenna sighed.
"Yes. I mean no. I mean yes it's a 'no'." The rat sat up in the saddle and looked around him. "It's nice here, isn't it?" he said. "Came here on holiday with my ma when I was a little lad. We had some relations who lived in the ditches that run out of the Marshes to the sea. Lovely sand dunes down on the beach and convenient for the Port if you hitched a ride on a donkey cart"Stanley shivered"or preferably a fast horse. We had some good times hanging out down at the Port when I was a teenager. Lots of rats there. You wouldn't believe the things that went on. I remember"
"Stanley," said Jenna, an idea forming in her mind. "Does that mean you know the way to the Port?"
"Of course," said Stanley indignantly. "As a member of the Secret Rat Service, you can rely on me to get you anywhere. I am as good as a map. Better than a map, in fact. I have it all in my head, see"the rat tapped the side of his head"I can go anywhere, I can."
"Apart from the Marram Marshes," observed Jenna.
"Yes. Well. The Special Marsh Rats do that. More fool, them. Like I said, I am not setting foot in that noxious swamp ever again."
"Ah, well. Walk on," said Jenna, giving Thunder a gentle nudge with her heels.
"Very well then," said Stanley, "if you feel like that about it." The rat jumped from the saddle and landed a little awkwardly on the grass.
Jenna stopped the horse.
"Stanley, what are you doing?" she asked.
"What you told me to do," said Stanley grumpily. "I'm walking."
Jenna laughed. "I was talking to the foorse, silly. Get back up here."
"Oh. Thought you were cross I wouldn't take you through the Marshes."
"Don't be daft, Stanley. Just get back on the horse and show me the way to the Port. I can remember the way to Aunt Zelda's from there."
"You sure?"
"Yes. Please, Stanley."
Stanley took a running jump, leaped into the air and landed lightly behind Jenna.
It was a beautiful summer's morning. The Sheeplands stretched before them, and on the horizon in the far distance Jenna could see the thin, brilliant white line of the sea glinting as the early-morning sunlight glanced off the water.
A firm, gravelly track took Thunder, Jenna and Stanley across the pastures, leading them along invisible boundaries, past lambing pens and the occasional reed bed and over wide plank bridges that crossed the water channels running from the Marshes on their way to the sea. Jenna let the horse amble slowly along and stop whenever he wanted to snatch at a tasty-looking tuft of grass and munch on it as he went. As the heat of the sun began to burn off the last of the mist, which still hung over the water channels, Jenna relt the dampness in her clothes evaporate, and at last she began to feel warm.
But as the chill from the Badlands left her, Jenna started to think more clearly. And the first thing she thought about was Simon. What was he doing now? Anxiously, Jenna glanced behind her. The steep black rock of the slate quarries rose from the flat Sheeplands like a cliff from the sea; above it lay the low gray cloud, casting a deep shadow. The Badlands were still too close for Jenna's liking; she needed to put some distance between them.
"Gee up, Thunder," said Jenna, urging the horse into a brisk walk and resisting taking him into a trot. She knew Thunder must be tired and they still had a long day's ride to the Port ahead of them. Behind her the rat sat up perkily on the horse's back, hanging on to the saddle with one paw with the air of a seasoned rider. Jenna turned around again and checked the Badlands. Suddenly she had an uncomfortable feeling that her escape had been discovered.
