Chapter 31 Omirre #2
“You can’t get your revenge if I don’t remember you or what I did to you.
And despite whatever this is,” Lark said, feeling the erratic jumping of anger, depression, and anxiety, acknowledging them for emotions that were not true to her.
“Whatever you’re doing to make me feel this way, I can’t help you.
You’re looking for a confession or an admission of some kind that I can’t give you.
Either kill me or let me go but do it knowing that I don’t remember you. ”
Omirre let out a wail, then snapped her head to attention.
“Fine, I will not kill you now but know that your release comes with a cost. You might not have been the same person when you came here, not having known what it was you cost me and mine. Know this, Lark, the next time we meet, I will have my vengeance. You will find your memories, and when you do, you’ll know that Lark is nothing like Ella.
People can’t fake who they are for long. ”
“How do I get to Red Lodge,” Lark said through gritted teeth.
“Climb back around to that landing where your dwarf friend escaped. It’s not far from there,” Omirre said.
“That’s a sheer cliff outside, provided I’m able to get to the crag wall without slipping into the river and being swept off that waterfall.”
“Angle your fall right and you’ll land in the pool below; if you survive the drop,” Omirre said.
“Then climb all the way back out? It seems like you’re setting me up for failure,” Lark said.
“Surviving the fall into the pool is just the beginning. You enter there and you’re no longer in this realm. You’d have to have your fae bond to help you.”
“The pool is a doorway into the fae realm?” Lark asked.
“You really don’t remember anything.”
“How do you know about Nix?”
“The fae you’re bonded to, and ignoring as well. You can remember her but not your dragon?”
Lark blinked, confusion dispelling any pain she felt when reminded that she had a dragon out there, alive and still bonded with her. “Where does that tunnel lead?” Lark said, pointing to the hole at the back of the cave.
“My den. The only way out for you is through the fae realm, barring that, you would need to scale your way across the cliffs to return to the dwarf’s exit.
I will not interfere again if another of the creatures inhabiting this mine attacks you.
The choice is yours, Lark. If you make it out of this cavern alive, I will come for you again.
When I do, you’ll remember why I’m there to kill you. ”
Lark scowled, turning her back on the winged serpent.
Approaching the mouth of Omirre’s cave, she looked out through the opening.
Water gushed off the cliff, disappearing as it fell through the open air, to the pool of an unknown depth below.
Lark tested her grip on the rock before climbing out of the cave.
She focused on the ledges for her feet and hands as she traversed from Omirre’s cave onto the crag wall.
After a few yards, Lark came to a ledge carved into the stone.
Testing it with a few kicks before trusting it with her weight, Lark stood on the narrow landing.
It ended a few short strides later, leaving another wide space of cliff wall before reconnecting to another ledge.
The far ledge followed a narrow path cut from the stone, leading down to stone stairs.
She followed the stairs with her gaze, seeing they came out on the platform where the shadow terror had attacked. The exit lay just beyond.
She breathed in deeply, gauging the distance to the next landing where the path formed.
Lark had jumped at least that far before when she was wearing the brismil scale.
The enhancements of the scale, however, were not an option here.
Lark was forced to rely on her natural athletic ability.
The gap was at least twice as wide as she was tall, but half that distance lower as well.
She didn’t have enough space to make a running leap.
She only had room to take one long step before jumping.
Her gaze searched the cliff. Here, the granite was smooth, offering no holds but for one small crack in the middle.
“Omirre must’ve crushed this trail with her tail so nobody from the mine could easily scale over here,” she told herself.
Lark still had her dagger. It appeared to be a similar width to the crack in the smooth granite face between her and the far ledge. She had no way to know if it would hold, but if she were to wedge the dagger in, she might be able to use the handle to vault herself the rest of the way.
If I could just get one more step out, then I could make it, she thought.
With the dagger in her right hand, she laid down flat on her stomach on the ledge.
She stretched her arm out, holding onto a crimp with her left fingertips.
Her shoulder reached out past the edge, her face now half-way off, nearing the point where she would fall if she went any farther.
She strained to see her target for the dagger placement.
Her hand was near the crack now. She angled the dagger, finding the slit with her point.
She eased the point into the rock, stretching as far as she possibly could.
Lark pushed down with the blade until it stopped, wedged into the bottom edge of the crack.
“If this doesn’t hold, I’m dead,” she told herself.
Gathering her courage, Lark took a running step off the ledge.
Her right foot landed on the handle, and she jumped.
The dagger held long enough for her to use it and continue on her angled trajectory toward the lower ledge.
As she jumped, the blade snapped, breaking and sending the handle clinking off the stone, soon to be swallowed by the darkness.
Lark dropped forward, hit the opposite ledge with speed, crouched and rolled over her shoulder before springing up to her feet.
She slid to a halt, teetering on the edge before finding her balance.
She shuffled back, placing her back flat against the cliff wall, heart pounding.
“Holy embers that was close,” she swore, peering back at the shorn end of the dagger blade sticking out of the crack, the handle gone entirely.
Calming her adrenaline, she continued carefully onto the narrow path and down the stone stairs.
With a sigh of relief, she walked out onto the expansive landing where she’d last seen Ezra.
The door was still open a crack. As Lark made her way through the skeletons of dwarves and elves, a short figure appeared near the light streaming in.
“Ezra?” Lark asked, recognizing the stout body.
As her eyes came into focus, however, she could see that in place of the dwarf’s beard was a smooth, dagger-tooth smile. The being’s eyes were reddened, and the light revealed long green ears ringed with piercings.
“Not Ezra,” the goblin replied, his voice cracking with excitement as he edged his way around the light filtering in through the door.
Lark reached for a weapon, but she didn’t have any.
“If I ever cross Ezra’s path again,” the goblin said. “I’ll be sure to give him your condolences.”
He rushed forward, stabbing at her with a long knife.
She moved, but the blade cut through her shirt, narrowly missing her body.
She managed to spin away, quickly retrieving a blade of elven make from a pile of armor and bones.
Lark’s necklace warmed an instant before she sliced out across the darkness with a sweeping swing.
The sunlight caught on the blade as it came around and a line of rippling blue flame carried out behind the blade’s path.
A scream shook through the cave as the goblin who narrowly missed being cleaved by the sword was engulfed in flames.
Lark nearly dropped the sword in shock, but the training of a lifetime forgotten willed her to hang on.
She backed away as the goblin rushed wildly at her, burning with the blue flame and shouting at her in garbled speech.
She backed away, closing the distance between her and the open doorway.
The goblin, dropped to his knees, the fire claiming him as he tipped forward in a pile of burning flesh on the landing.
Lark held the sword out, seeing more red eyes, snapping teeth hissing at her in the darkness.
Steel caught in the strip of sunlight as they jabbed forward, far enough away that there was no danger of them reaching Lark.
She felt behind herself for the opening, her skin warmed by the rays sunning the lip of the stone.
She backed through, pulling the door shut behind her.
Muffled cries and vicious screeching sounded from behind the door, but with the protection of the sun now beaming around her, she was safe from the goblin horde.
Lark backed away from the mine, taking in her surroundings.
She was in the forest again. The trees were narrow, taller, and more tightly packed.
A fresh coating of snow covered the ground at her feet and the needles above.
A pair of wide-set footsteps tracked away from the mine shaft, heading out toward a snowy field beyond.
Ezra.