Page 40 of Angel in Absentia
Before either of them could speak again, a distant clamor echoed through the stone halls—voices rising in alarm, hurried footfalls pounding above them. The torches flickered as if sensing the shift in the air.
“They’ll be looking for me,” Clea said in cold reserve. She turned and approached the door.
“Wait,” Myken said. “I can hear it from here. The commotion.” He closed his eyes, and Clea remained where she stood near the door. His expression changed, tension flickering through his jaw. He cursed loudly.
“What?” she asked, part of her still wondering if this was one of his ploys.
“Get me out of here,” he said, jerking at the chains.
“What is it?” she responded impatiently.
“Get me out of here!” he shouted, fighting the bindings with so much force that she thought for a moment they might break.
“Myken!” she called, catching signs of real fear, but it didn’t stop him; he fought and strained, his skin breaking over the shackles. He started to bleed.
“Get me out of here!” he shouted louder. “It’s too late! I refuse to die in this dungeon! Leave me to die in the woods!”
Clea marched up and slapped him so hard the noise echoed through the cell. He drew forward so quickly she thought he might bite her hand before he shouted, “The Belgears have fallen!”
A shock ran through her.
Her dream.
It was blurred in places, clear in others, but she could have sworn Ryson, that peculiar and sharp version of him, had been present at the fall of a kingdom.
In her dream, she’d thought briefly that it had been the Kingdom of Belgear.
No.
That wasn’t possible. The dream had just been a distortion of her own imagination and twisted memories of King Kartheen’s castle, a bizarre side effect of her painful clash with the Ashanas.
That’s all,she reassured herself, and took the news in stride.
“It was the Insednians!” he hissed. “They’ve mobilized. All of the bodies are gone! They will come from the North. The Ashanas will come from the South. It’s the end!” he roared.
“This isn’t the end until we’re dead!” Clea shouted back, her voice sharp. She was even surprised by the harshness of it. She straightened, fire in her body. Her heart drummed with it, hot and powerful, unleashed and unburdened from fears that had once drained so much of her energy.
“I’ve been close to death since childhood,” she said, eyeing him down, and he glared back. “I spent my years watching healers shake their heads, watching my parents prepare for the worst as my family rotted. Don’t be so dramatic.”
Myken seemed surprised at her sudden burst of irritation, his expression faltering. He loosened against his shackles again, examining her closely.
“The Insednians have mobilized?” she asked calmly.
“The Warlord of Shambelin has returned,” he hissed and she rolled her eyes, disregarding the hysteria of such an unbelievable claim.
Clea continued, quieter now but with no less heat. She started to walk, thinking back on her dream now and wondering if parts of it had been a vision after all. Myken seemed to think the news was bad, but no, it didn’t have to be. The Belgears were gone, just like that. “If this is the end, then we have two enemies left,” she began. “The Ashanas…and the Insednians. If they’ve taken Belgear, then based on their path, they’ll come for Loda next. The Ashanas are moving up from the South. It’s a collision course, and Loda is right in the middle of it.”
“Yes,” he confirmed in irritation. “Death.”
She resisted the urge to chastise him again. He had just lost his kingdom, though she guessed he held little attachment to it beyond it being a chance at survival.
“The Warlord of Shambelin,” she whispered. “The Insednians need a leader. No doubt they’ve elevated someone into that position due to the unrest across Shambelin. I know a symbol when I see one. But this isn’t bad. Not bad, but we do need a strategy.”
She knew the High Council would be discussing just that shortly, but something kept her here, some glimpse of a plan. She imagined the pieces moving on the council table, the Virad Kingdom stagnant, the Insednian symbol now resurrected from the store of fallen tribes and kingdoms that lay discarded in a box along with all of the other extra symbols.
This wasn’t bad news. No. The Belgears had fallen, and the Insednians had at last made themselves known. She had been more concerned by their obscurity than this dramatic declaration of their presence. This, they could work with.
“You have weeks, if that,” Myken reminded her, injecting the worry like a wrench into the rapidly spinning cogs of her mind. She felt on the edge of some kind of strategy, as if a key had been lying dormant that she’d saved to one day use.
