Escape

Escape

"Kyreah!" screeched Jarla stalking toward where the girl had spread her bedroll. The half-elf rolled out of the way of the kick meant to wake her.

"My name is 'Lyryk,'" she said, ducking the hand that shot out to box her ear.

"Your name is what I say it is," the woman said, "and I say yer name is Kyreah! Get that through yer thick skill lessin' you wanna end up like Tony!"

That sent a shiver up Lyryk's spine. One of the older kids had also been a musician--until Jarla had broken his fingers when he tried to leave the "family." Then she turned him loose. They never saw him again.

Lyryk decided the risk of getting caught was worth the chance to escape, though. She might not have a better opportunity than now. Knowing her days as the "family" musician were numbered, the girl had been making it a point to watch how the drovers navigated the roads. Nighttime was the best time to leave, she determined. She knew that the Travel Star would rise by midnight, and tonight would be the darkest night in ages.

The day passed without incident despite Lyryk fretting over how the night would go. Her mind went over the plan again and again. Making sure her instruments were stowed so they wouldn't make noise when she left, she set her bedroll in its usual spot, using her cloak as a pillow, she napped.

Lyryk rose at midnight, gathered her pack, and the weapons and armor she had stashed along the lakeshore. Donning the unfamiliar gear, the girl settled everything in place. She proceeded to skate across the shallow lake, hoping against hope that the ice would hold until she reached the city and the bard's college.