Rubbing to edges and corners bumped. Spine and covers creased. Front cover torn.
The flames were running gently over the grass carpet, flickering, rearing , and flickering again, but never stopping their advance. Fury's feet moved swiftly and surely, jumping logs and small bushes; he jumped over anything that was in the way.
They were racing level with the fire now, moving down a stretch of unburnt grass, going faster and faster. Mary leaned forward, peering ahead trying to see the men. She called, but the words were whipped uselessly from her mouth. She heeled Fury on. They galloped wildly now, flying over the grass, with the fire behind them.
