Counting Shadows (Duplicity) (16 page)

I slowly shake my head. “You must have a very strange uncle.”

Lor grins that crooked smile of his. He can’t seem to help from doing it, even when he’s upset. “He is kind of strange. Brilliant, but strange.”

“Tell me more about your family,” I say. “Are they all involved in the sciences?”

Lor smirks. “Nice try, but you’re not going to distract me. I still need out of this place. Preferably soon. Like right now.”

I close my book, letting it snap shut with a thump and a waft of old-paper smell. “Make me a promise. I’ll take you out of here, but you have to tell me more about your family.”

Lor grins and nods.

I wave a hand toward the library. “All right, fine. We can sneak out the back way. But…”

Lor doesn’t hear me trail off. He just punches the air, gives a little whoop, and jogs toward the library door. Apparently, he wasn’t exaggerating when he said ‘right now’.

I finish my sentence in my head. ‘But I still need you.’ There’s a very good reason I haven’t let Lor leave my chambers. It’d be so easy for him to try to escape and get struck down by the Guardian vambrace. And it’d be very hard for me to try to find Asair if Lor dies.

If Lor tries to escape, I’ll stop him, no matter what it takes.

We are eternally bound, after all.

My panting breaths echo in the passage. I turn and shoot Lor a small glare, and he smirks back, seeming to read my mind: It’s not fair that this walk isn’t winding him at all.

“You know,” I growl, “when you said you wanted to get ‘out’, I was expecting a visit downstairs to see Farren, or something like that.”

“What can I say, sweetheart,” Lor replies. “I don’t like living up to expectations.”

Our voices reverberate throughout the small tunnel, reminding me why I hate this passage. Sure, it’s convenient having a hidden tunnel connected to my library. And, sure, it’s pretty much the only way I can escape from my chambers without an escort. Still, the passage is tiny and dank and claustrophobic. Not exactly what I call travelling in style…

“How’d you find this place, anyway?” Lor asks. He’s hunched over to avoid hitting his head on the dripping stone ceiling. But his pace is leisurely, his strides as confident as always. He doesn’t seem to notice that I’m scrambling down the steep passage, desperate to escape its confines.

Or maybe he does notice, and he’s just enjoying watching me get uncomfortable.

Yes, that’s definitely it.

I gasp in a breath and remember that Lor asked me a question. “I had a vision of it.”

His smirk melts away, replaced by a puzzled expression. “You’ve mentioned these visions a couple times. What are they?”

I think of telling him to stop prying, but then I realize that I’m going to break out in a sprint toward the exit if I don’t distract myself somehow. And a conversation would be the perfect distraction.

“They’re the reason my country hates me,” I reply. He raises an eyebrow, and I take it as a cue to go on. “The visions started when I was about three. I started seeing… things. When I described it to Father, he thought I was seeing the future.”

“What’s so bad about that?” Lor asks.

“Nothing. Sages see the future, and my country has a great respect for them. Everyone thought they were extinct, so as soon as Father declared I was a Sage, the people practically revered me.”

“That doesn’t seem to have lasted,” Lor states drily.

I rub my face and glare at him through the cracks of my fingers. “Thank you, Sir Obvious Statement.”

“That’s Prince Obvious Statement. And, seriously, I want to know. What happened?”

I take my hands away from my face and look forward, focusing on the steep floor. I don’t want him to see my face or the angry sneer twisting my lips. It’s been years since the people started accusing me of witchcraft, and I should be over it by now.

But I’m not.

“When I got older, I figured out that I was seeing the past, not the future. Everything I saw had already happened, and when I finally told my dad this… Well, things didn’t go well.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning Sage’s don’t see the past, only the future. But magic-users often have glimpses of the past.”

“And I’m assuming magic-users aren’t welcome in this land?”

“The penalty for using magic is death. The only reason I’m still alive is because Father has a soft spot for me. Plus, he doesn’t personally think I use magic. He thinks I’m cursed.”

And I am. I can’t think of a worse curse than seeing the past, and knowing I can do nothing to change it. The wars, plagues, famines—they’re all set in stone. And the deaths…

No. I’m not going to think about the visions of death, the ones with my own thoughts in them. I can’t think about that, because I can’t be the Unknown.

Hopefully.

We approach the exit of the tunnel, a small wooden door leading out to the castle gardens. But, even as I reach the door and press on it, Lor doesn’t respond. He stares at me with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, and I try to ignore his glance as I shove open the rickety door and step outside.

Right into the path of a man.

I yelp and stumble back, and the man whirls toward me, his eyes narrowed. Lor scrambles out of the tunnel and slams the door closed, as if he thinks the man hasn’t already seen it. The man’s lip curls into a smirk as he examines the vegetation-covered door, which blends perfectly into a stone wall of ivy.

“Well,” he says, tilting his head as he examines me, and then Lor. “It looks as if this castle has more secrets than one would imagine.

He has a strange accent that makes his words sound like a gentle, monotonous purr. It would probably be enough to make me sleepy, if my veins weren’t about to burst from the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through them.

“Who… who are you?” I sputter. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” he says, a predatory smile growing on his lips. “In fact, I think I will: What is a tiny, little human like you doing with this great-big Angel?”

I ignore the sarcastic drawl, and snap, “Answer my questions. I demand it.”

The man chuckles and leans against an ancient oak tree that stands right next to the door. “Sorry, little human, but Dragons don’t take demands.”

Dragon? He’s got to be joking. Dragons haven’t visited Irrador for years, not since our last war decades ago that ended in a hesitant treaty. Dragons don’t come to human lands, and humans wouldn’t dare cross into Dragon territories. Period. Besides, this man looks nothing like the ferocious Dragons I always imagined. He’s of medium height and slim, with dark hair cut close to his scalp.

But, as I look more closely at the man, I notice his eyes. They’re a piercing blue color, so vibrant that they almost look like they’re glowing. And his pupils… I stumble back as I take them in. They’re nothing but vertical slits, like some sort of reptile’s.

He smiles, displaying perfectly straight teeth. “Surprised to see one of my kind, princess?”

As he speaks, Lor moves closer to me, taking one step forward so he’s slightly in front of me. Maybe he does have some basic Guardian instincts, after all.

I swallow hard and say with as much confidence as I can muster, “Princess? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughs, the sound smooth and lulling, but somehow scathing at the same time. “Don’t think you can mess with me, Faye. I know very well who you are.”

“How?” Lor demands. His fist is slowly clenching, and I think back to my lessons from Jackal. He’d always said that the Dragons and Angels hold grudges against each other, and now I believe it. Lor is glaring at the Dragon like he’s ready to rip into the creature, while the Dragon’s hand slowly ventures toward his side, where I’m guessing he keeps a knife of some sort.

“Well,” the Dragon says, turning to Lor, “what do you know, the Angel does speak.”

“My name is Lor, not ‘the Angel’.”

The Dragon makes a clucking sound. “Careful giving your name out so carelessly, prince. It could very well get you into trouble.”

Lor scoffs. “You’re forgetting that my kind isn’t crippled by your ancient magic. I could never get in trouble by merely giving my name.”

The Dragon’s predatory smile grows. “Would you like to swear on that, Angel?”

I glance back and forth between them, trying to follow their conversation. Ancient magic is supposed to be empowering, not crippling. Unless… What was it Jackal always told me? If a race gives themselves over to magic, they lose something in return.

Right, that must be what Lor and the Dragon are going on about. According to Jackal, Dragons lost their ability to use their real names. And as Lor explained, Angels can’t make promises without going through with them.

For once, I’m feeling very glad to be a mere human.

If that’s what I really am…

“How do you know who I am?” I ask, keeping my voice as steady as possible.

The Dragon looks away from Lor and back to me. I can’t help but to flinch as his reptilian eyes scan over me, taking in every inch of my body. My instincts scream at me to run, but I root my feet in the ground and stare evenly back at the Dragon. He smiles, although he looks more amused than impressed.

“Dragons just know things,” he finally says in response.

A harsh laugh comes from our left, and I whirl toward it. The sound is scratchy and ruined, and I recognize it instantly.

Jackal steps out from behind the oak tree, and I wonder if he’s been there the entire time, or if he just got here. Either way, Jackal doesn’t seem happy with the conversation I’m having, and I look away from him as he glares at me.

“Don’t listen to a word he says, Faye,” Jackal states. “He’s a liar.”

“And you’re not?” the Dragon demands, although he’s smiling again, and doesn’t seem at all put-off by the accusation.

Jackal glances over to the Dragon. “Don’t test me, Slaike. I came here on your terms. Show a little respect for that.”

Slaike, which I imagine is the Dragon’s alias, just keeps smiling. I wait for his posture to grow defensive, but he remains calm, not at all worried about Jackal’s presence. And the way Jackal talks to Slaike almost reminds me of the way he talks to me and Jolik, and his other trainees. Slaike couldn’t be another one of Jackal’s students, could he?

Before I can ask, Lor turns to Jackal and demands, “How does this Dragon know so much?”

“That’s not your place to ask,” Jackal replies.

“I’m a prince. It’s always my place to ask.”

Jackal scoffs. “Maybe in your lands. But here you’re a prisoner, not a prince. Start getting used to it.”

Lor bristles and clenches his fists tighter, and I grab the back of his tunic, ready to hold him back if he lunges at Jackal. I don’t care how big Lor is; Jackal will beat him to pulp, if he tries anything.

I straighten my shoulders, trying to look as intimidating as possible. It’s probably not my brightest idea, since I’m surrounded by a Dragon, an Angel, and a Vampire, but I shake away that thought and focus on looking confident.

“He may not be royalty here,” I say to Jackal, “but I am. And I want to know how this Dragon knows so much.”

“Because I told him,” Jackal replies calmly. He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow, daring me to argue further.

He really should know by now that I take that kind of dare as an invitation. I stand as tall as I can and say, “You’re endangering both Lor and me by handing out that kind of information. Why?”

Slaike scoffs. “Endangering? Surely you don’t think Jackal would purposely but you in harm’s way.”

Of course I don’t. But this Dragon doesn’t need to know how much I trust Jackal, so I just calmly meet his gaze and say, “You don’t know me, Dragon. Don’t try to pretend you do.”

He smiles viciously, lifting his lips to expose long, sharp canines. “I know more about you than you do, Faye. Pretending otherwise would be a joke.”

“Slaike,” Jackal says sharply. I wait for him to tell the Dragon how wrong he is, but Jackal doesn’t say anything else. He just gives Slaike a harsh look that makes my stomach churn. Could Slaike actually be telling the truth? And if he is, what could he possibly know about me that I don’t?

A rustling interrupts my thoughts, and we all whirl toward the sound. Slaike draws a long dagger from a sheath at his side, and the rest of us clench our fists. A minute passes, and there’s no sound but chirping birds, and the distant crashing waves. Then the rustling comes again, closer this time.

“Expecting someone else?” I murmur to Jackal. He shakes his head, and I clench my fist tighter, taking a single step toward the sound.

I think my lungs are about to burst from holding my breath. But, just then, a deer bounds out from behind the oak tree. It freezes as it sees us, its eyes wide and startled.

Slaike curses and shoves his dagger back into its sheath, while Jackal and Lor instantly relax their postures. But I’m frozen as I stare into the deer’s eyes. It has red irises, so vibrant that it reminds me of fire. I point to it, but just as I’m about to tell the others what I see, the deer bounds off.

“This is what we get for meeting in an unsafe spot,” Slaike growls at Jackal.

“It was just a deer,” Jackal replies. “Nothing to worry about.”

“And if it had been someone?” Slaike asks, his lip turning up in a sneer.

Jackal doesn’t reply, and instead turns to me. “You need to leave now, Faye. Slaike and I have things to discuss in private.”

“Things about me?” I challenge.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you leave right now and tell no one that there is a Dragon on castle grounds.”

“And why should I listen to you?”

“Because you always have, and I’ve never failed you.”

I sigh, knowing there’s no way I can argue with that. “Whatever you say, Jackal.” I grab Lor’s arm and tug at him, leading him toward the back of the gardens.

“No,” Jackal says, stopping me. “You need to go back to your chambers.”

“What? Why?”

“Why do you think, Faye? Practically everyone in this city knows you Chose an Angel. If they see you with him, they’ll know who you are.”