THEY sat at a quick breakfast the next morning, and were unusually quiet—something which Beth noted. Had something come between them after dinner? But no: they had gone straight to bed, and she’d heard not a sound out of them since. It was puzzling, but Beth kept her thoughts to herself.

Beth fixed them up with a few eggs. “Hard-boiled, so they won’t break in your packs. No—really, please take them, I’ve got plenty. Oh and don’t forget to call in at Thomas’s, the shopkeeper. Tell him I sent you.”

“Ah yes, I remember: Thomas,” said Michael. “Where’s his shop? We could do with buying some stuff.”

“Right in the middle of the village: you can’t miss it.” With that, and a hasty farewell, Beth saw them off.

They found Thomas’s shop without difficulty, it had “GENERAL STORE” written up on a swinging board. They hitched up the horses, and walked inside. It seemed to be deserted, but after they rang the bell a few times, an elderly, rather dishevelled man came out from the back: they assumed this must be Thomas.

“Strangers, eh? We don’t see many of those here. What can I do for you?”

Rachel explained that they had just come from Beth, that they were on a long journey, that they needed provisions.

“Beth, eh? That woman’ll bankrupt herself, the way she goes on taking in strangers. But she’s got a good heart, I’ll say that for her. OK, I’ll see what I can do for you.”

With Rachel’s help, Michael ordered a fairly long list of provisions, much of it in the form of ham and cheese and dried fish and fruits—stuff that should last for a long journey, stuff that could be loaded on the horses. As he reached into his money-pouch to pay, he seemed to start momentarily, but he quickly recovered himself. Bidding Thomas a hasty farewell, he hustled Rachel out of the shop, then led her until they were out of sight.

“Some of my money’s missing,” he said in thought-shapes. “I know I had nearly 400 dollars when we left Kentak: all my savings: you remember, I counted it out. Now, when I went to pay the shopkeeper, there’s less than 300. And that’s before I paid him. So where has the rest gone?” and he started to scan up and down the road, in the vain hope that the missing notes might be lying in the roadway.

“No point in doing that,” replied Rachel. “If it’s gone, it’s gone. We’ll have to make do on what’s left—”

“No!” cut in Michael. “It’s got to be that woman. Why, the sly bitch! And she was so kind and welcoming to us! I’m going straight back to sort her out…”

“No—wait!” put in Rachel, in words, seizing Michael’s arm. Quickly reverting to thought-shapes, she continued: “don’t you see? It’d be your word against hers, and who’d believe you, in this tiny village? And she’s a poor woman. She knew we had a fair bit of money, we were asleep, and the temptation was probably too much! But she didn’t take it all. And there’s something else. I think she’s a bit suspicious of us. The way she looked at us at breakfast: I didn’t feel comfortable. I wonder. You know what my big mistake may have been? Showing her that ‘wedding ring’. I wish I hadn’t, now. Just a steel washer I’d picked up in the street. She’d have known that if we really planned an elopement, we’d have got ourselves a proper ring, beforehand. So she guessed that elopement wasn’t the main reason for our flight…”

Michael was thunderstruck. Rachel’s reasoning certainly made sense.

“So the best thing for us,” continued Rachel, “is, continue on our way. Look upon what she took as ‘hush money’—if we leave her with it, perhaps she won’t put the dogs on us? It’s worth the chance.”

Michael nodded.

“And furthermore, it strengthens my resolve that we must get to Rigo, somehow or other. Don’t you now realise? No-one in Labrador can be entirely trusted. If Beth can’t, who can be?”

“All right: you’ve got me,” said Michael at last. “Rigo it is. If we’re followed: well, we’ve managed to evade capture so far…”

They had meanwhile packed up the provisions and mounted, and were leaving the ill-omened village of Kipalup behind. Luckily they had met no other people as they rode out of the village: they realised that even talking in thought-shapes, when there were other people about, was enough to arouse suspicion.

Michael wondered what Beth would do next. He found it hard to get his head around the idea that she was a scheming, vindictive woman—not after all the kindness and generosity she’d shown them the day before. Perhaps she hadn’t taken the money? It occurred to him that if she had, she’d have known he would discover the loss as soon as he went to pay the shopkeeper. Seemed strange. But if not her, who else could have taken it? Apart from the mile or two after they’d left Kentak, and again the few miles on the road leading into Kipalup, they’d not met a soul on the way. And those people they had passed had merely exchanged a “Good day” and gone on their way. It couldn’t have been any of them!

It made no sense. Now that they were away from the village, he sought Rachel’s counsel.

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Rachel thought for a long time before answering. “I think,” she said in words, “that this was a sort of double-bluff. She expected us to come storming back to her house, and she had her answer ready. If we did so, she’d then reveal that she knew ‘something’ about us—and since it wasn’t the elopement, she’d challenge us about Deviations. I’m almost certain she guessed the truth about us—although whether she guessed it was thought-shapes or some other sort of Deviation, I’m not sure. Anyway, she then reasoned that we’d take it a step further—that we’d realise she was on to us, that we were at risk—so we’d not come back. So she could keep the money.

“And I think we should avoid using thought-shapes as far as possible. When it’s just the two of us together, and no-one else about…”

Michael had already come to the same conclusion. “Which reminds me. Heard anything at all of Mark since we set out? I haven’t.”

“Nor have I. Not a squeak I’ve been trying, every few hours. We’ll have to leave off trying to send to him. We just have to hope he’s all right. And Stephanie—don’t forget her. She’s in as much danger as he is.”

“Well, if we do make it to Rigo,” added Michael, “there’s just a chance we may meet them there. Remember, that’s where we said we were going.”

There were a few isolated farms and cottages beside the lane as they rode on, at scarcely more than walking-pace. They met a few people but stopped to talk to no-one, and none of them took any notice of them. Finally they left the houses and cultivated fields behind them and entered another tract of forest. There was no-one about.

Beth had advised them that it was over seventy miles to the next settlement, and very little in between except forest and rough scrubland. There were no roads turning off either to the right or the left before then, which was a relief to Michael, since he was now worrying a lot about them getting lost. The weather had turned overcast, and without the sun to guide him he was no longer sure of his bearings. The store-keeper back at Kipalup had been unable to provide him with a map. All he could guess was that the road, for all its twistings and turnings, did seem to be heading in a general easterly direction.

At least the overcast weather meant that it wasn’t so cold. But he still meant to get warmer clothes—furs if possible—when they reached the next village.

For five days they continued to pass through this empty land, meeting no-one. Michael was beginning to worry that they might have somehow missed the next settlement, which according to Beth was named Curkajak. But towards the end of the third day, to their great relief, they came to cultivated fields and saw a scattering of houses ahead.

Michael decided to take a chance. At one of the outlying farms, he dismounted and knocked on the door. “Is this Curkajak?” he asked as a young woman answered.

“It is,” replied the woman, eyeing them for a moment in curiosity. “Going far?”

“Yes,” replied Michael, laconically. He didn’t want to say more than that. Luckily the woman seemed to lose interest in them, and went back into the farmhouse shutting the door.

“Well, at least we know where we are. If only we had a map! I’ll ask at the shop, if there is one.”

They rode on slowly into the village, which appeared to be some­what larger than Kipalup. And they saw that there was a fork in the road here, with one road leading to the north skirting a large lake, whilst the other apparently turned a bit more to the south-east.

They looked for a store, but couldn’t find one at first. There was, however, a modest inn at the junction: the first they had seen since they left Kentak. At this, Rachel put her foot down.

“We’re going to stay here, whether you like it or not; two nights at the very least. I’ve got money as well, you know: not as much as you, but at least mine is intact. Look at our horses! How could anyone expect any horse to have done what these beasts have done for us? Must be 150 miles at the very least. If you want to find a shop, leave it till tomorrow.”

“All right,” conceded Michael. “One night, at any rate.”

“No: two nights at least. Not only our horses: we need the rest too. I don’t know about you, but I sure am saddle-sore! We’ve made good progress, but it’s still a long way to go.”

Michael couldn’t deny that. He’d learnt a lot about Rachel since they’d started on their journey together: how determined she was, how there was no arguing with her once she’d chosen their course. By contrast, he’d become more uncertain, more ready to accept compromise. How different he’d become, compared with the assured young man he’d been, helping from his rearward position to guide David, Rosalind and Petra to eventual safety! Then he’d thought, he could take charge of any situation: the natural leader. But not now. Rachel had seen to that!

He followed Rachel into the inn. The innkeeper looked them up and down, but only for a moment. It seemed that travellers were more frequent on the busier road they were now to take: a sign that they’d have to be careful. And he asked them to produce their Normalcy cards: something they’d not been asked for since they left Kentak.

Without a moment’s hesitation Rachel handed hers over: Michael quickly followed suit. If they had ever thought of producing passable forgeries, they had missed their chance. Luckily, the innkeeper had never heard of Waknuk, and Kentak was just another settlement “out west” that he knew only vaguely by name. And of course their names meant nothing to him. They had indeed covered a considerable distance: every mile made it that little bit safer.

Until they reached Rigo, that is. Even Rachel had to admit, their epic journey might yet come to nothing once they approached the capital, with all its spies and informers. She wondered—not for the first time!—whether this might all end up in a nightmare journey back to Waknuk, bound and gagged and awaiting banishment to the Fringes…

Best not to dwell too much on those thoughts.

Taking note of their different surnames, the innkeeper assigned them to separate rooms. No point in arguing, of course: the same would have happened in Kentak, and probably everywhere else in Labrador. Except, perhaps, in Rigo…

And, once in his room, Michael could not help but notice the communicating door with Rachel’s room. It was locked, but there might be a key somewhere. Anyway he was dog-tired: he lay down on the bed and was instantly asleep.