The Touch of Astoroth

Chapter Five

It was raining when Coyra rode Jeggin down into the valley. She knew it must look like she was melting; with mud from last night dripping off her in small streams of brown and gray, but that was what she felt like on the inside too, so it didn't matter.

Lem was waiting outside the stables, fidgeting from one foot to the other; he looked tiered, and didn't immediately register her as she rode over to him. He only had time to look up, and open him mouth confusedly, before Coyra flew from Jeggin's back and hugged him fiercely. He smelled like wet wool and straw, and Coyra wondered how long he had been out here waiting for her.

"Whoa," said Lem softly, even as Coyra tore herself away from him, and began unsaddling Jeggin, with a kind of furious efficiency, "something must really be wrong." The truth seemed to dawn on him even as he said it, "Where's Trikk?"

"They killed him," Coyra said quietly, her back still turned, "over a plant." Her voice was rising now, but she couldn't contain it, "Was a plant really worth that much, Lem?" She whirled around, dragged the plant from her belt, and threw it at his feet.

Lem stepped quickly out of the way, and gently nudged Jeggin into his stall, then turned to face her, "You don't have to tell the masters, Coyra. I'll do it if you like."

Coyra raised her head, meeting his gaze with a hard stare, "No, I'll tell them; they should know the full story. After all," she added, unsure if it was rage or grief, or a need to prove that if hadn't been her fault, "they sent Trikk to his death. They picked him, even when he wasn't ready."

She turned, without waiting for Lem, and walked out into the drenching rain.

Coyra gave the masters the short version: They had made it in, and got the plant, but had been discovered, Trikk had been killed, but she had escaped with the plant.

"He told me," Coyra finished, speaking directly to Master Fayrro, "to tell you he'd tried."

Her words had been intended to hurt, but his face was unreadable as he turned on his heel and marched away through the rain towards the stables. A few moments latter Coyra thought she saw a blurry shape gallop away in the downpour.

When the other masters dispersed, Coyra remained standing where they had left her, staring back towards the stables. Lem tried to lead her to the sleeping quarters, but she shook him off, and took of at a sprint for the training yard.

By the time she got there, Coyra was soaked through, but she could hardly feel the water running down her face. She unslung her bow from her back and began to shoot at one of the targets at the corner of the yard. At first all her arrows flew wide because her hands were shaking so badly, but as the rain continued to pour down, and her head pounded in rhythm with the falling water, her aim got straighter, and she fell into a dull throbbing trance of half reality.

After almost half an hour, she became aware of other objects connecting with the target aside from her arrows, and a moment later, she spotted Twilnik off to her right, throwing knives at the same target.

Coyra stopped shooting, and Twilnik walked over to her. The two girls regarded each over for a long moment, not saying anything. Then Twilnik dropped her eyes to the ground.

"I heard about Trikk."

Coyra only nodded. She straightened her back and hoped that Twilnik knew that her face was wet from rain and not tears. She didn't want to talk about it, and she really didn't want someone forcing the subject on her.

But Twilnik didn't speak. She held Coyra's gaze for another beat, then drew out a dagger, and held out the handle.

Coyra sent her a silent thank you, then took the handle, and they began to spar.