“Would you like to try, Clarie? Fury is a quiet horse, despite her name. Here, take the ribbons.”
Joss handed me the reins. Just as I closed my hands around them and he let them go, however, there was a blinding flash of lightning and a deafening crack of thunder.
At this, Fury shied. All four of her feet left the ground, and when they came down again it was at a full run. I was so startled that I dropped the reins, and then watched in growing alarm as they flapped along the ground, far, far out of reach. The whisky careered towards the village, picking up speed as it went down the hill.
Then, as if to prove that things actually could get worse, the skies opened into a torrential downpour.
“What will we do, Joss?” I shouted, trying to be heard over the sound of the deafening thunder and the rain pounding on the road.
“Hold on for dear life!” Joss shouted back. “And pray that the rise in the road before the common will slow us down!” He peered intently through the wall of rain. “Wait, I think I see Dickon Weeks coming toward us. Maybe he can stop Fury. Maybe.”
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