Martin and Folly travels away from Amber.

Martin hands Folly up and then mounts behind her. He slides his arms around her waist and takes the reins, pausing to let her get comfortable before they ride out.

His route takes them out of the stables and to the north, around the west side of the mountain. Martin doesn't seem to have anything to say, and doesn't press Folly for conversation. After a while, he begins singing. Some of the tunes are familiar to Folly, but others are not.

"... two were fishes and the other was me ..."

The faintest touch of rose in the sky blossoms, then grows, and it's dawn. Then, later, daylight.

"... the serving boys you saw last night, they are not here today ..."

The mountain path is different from the one Folly recalls taking on previous trips. She's not sure quite what in the early morning gloom just yet, but it is.

"... 'Son,' he said, 'grab your things, I've come to take you home' ..."

After a while, Martin pulls out a waterskin and offers Folly some before drinking himself.

"... Shoot me the pot and I'll pour me a shot ... "

The mountain they're on is much smaller than Kolvir, Folly realizes.

"... just go put on your cleats, and come and trample me ..."

They come off the mountain and into hills that Folly knows aren't the ones on the north side of Kolvir.

"... it's not your fault, but your honesty touches me like a fire ..."

They ride past a herd of llamas on a hillside, and the llama-herder waves at them. Martin waves back.

"... but I showed him a thing or two by blowing the jail to hay-ull ..."

The hills flatten out further and then they're on a flat plain.

"... my infatuation has led to the deflation of my opinion of myself ..."

In the distance, there are trees, and Martin urges the horse to a gallop towards them. When they get there, Folly happens to look back, and the grasses of the plain are a different color from the grasses of the plain they rode through to get there.

"... and then she fell into my arms, beside the banks of Avon ..."

They stop, then, to break their fast quickly and stretch weary legs and let the horse drink from a convenient creek. Soon enough, they're back ahorse and moving again.

"... twenty-five bucks? f**k that s**t ..."

The trees seem to thicken as Folly and Martin ride onwards.

"... the latest one by Barbara Cartland, or something in that style ..."

Their character is slowly changing, too, and Folly notices that it's getting a bit warmer. Maples and such have given way to soaring pines.

"... you love her, and she loves him, and he loves somebody else, you just can't win ..."

And thence, after a while, to magnolias and cypresses.

"... and I don't wanna wind up being parted, broken-hearted ..."

Folly has begun to notice that it's not only hot, but damp, in a sort of unpleasant tropical way.

"... the swan was in her movement, and the morning in her smile ..."

The horse is occasionally crossing little streams and such. After some more time, the ground itself becomes damp and a little squishy.

"... and I love the ground whereon she stands ..."

Moss covers more and more of the trees.

"... let the broken sky break above our heads ..."

The changes still come, but they are slower and more subtle. Time seems to have stabilized, too, and it's now late afternoon.

"... you make me feel like I am clean again ..."

Along a bayou path, Folly and Martin see something moving. Martin touches the horse and it moves along a little more quickly. He's singing more softly now, and although Folly knows his voice is wearing out, she doesn't feel that that's the reason.

"... cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my soul ..."

The sun begins to slide below the horizon, slowly, lingeringly.

"... you shine like the moon over water, and you darken the sky when you leave ..."

And the full moon rises, low and heavy in the sky.

"... give me cof-fee, ja-va, cup-pa joe ..."

Then they break out of the jungle-like woods at the water's edge. There's a dock with a small sailboat tied to it. In the moonlight, Folly can read the name of the boat: the Bonne Chance.

Up the shore a ways there's a cabin, and lamplight shines from the windows. As Martin dismounts and helps Folly step down, the door bangs open and a voice calls, "Who's there?"

Martin calls back, "It's Mr. Chance, Jim."