Counting Shadows (Duplicity)

been on this continent? What if I could have found them, and what if they could have saved Ashe?
    My stomach churns, and I walk faster.

Six
    Daylight comes with the most mundane sunrise in history. It doesn’t feel right. My understanding of Ashe has changed, but the world stays exactly the same.
    I watch the courtyard, sitting on the railing of the balcony connected to my chambers. Ashe always liked to people-watch up here, and said sunrise was the best time for it. According to him, it’s the time when people are the most tired and raw, and willing to show their true natures.
    I’m not sure if that’s true; hardly anyone here ever shows their real self. The courtyard below is off-limits to peasants, and is instead filled with royalty and egos and lies. But I still come out to this balcony every morning and look down, just like my Ashe used to.
    Soldiers patrol the cobbled grounds, messengers scurry about, and lesser royalty hold their heads way too high as they go about their business. But from up here, everything looks…
different
. Almost peaceful.
    Footsteps echo behind me.
One, two, three.
But I don’t turn. I received the message earlier: Farren is coming to visit me this morning. I don’t know why, but I do know that I’m not going to bother with a greeting. My head is still whirling from my visit with Lor, my stomach feels like it’s full of bubbling lead, and I’m
not
in the mood for visitors.
    “What the hell did I tell you about sitting up there? You’re a human, not a bloody Dragon. You won’t survive falling.”
    I yelp and grip the banister more tightly. The voice is harsh and rasping, toneless except for an edge of anger.
    As I regain my balance, I let out a long breath, unsure if its relieved or exasperated. “Jackal.” It’s impossible to mistake that voice. Jackal once had his throat slit by an assassin, and it ruined his vocal chords. Now his voice is high and gravelly, and it cuts through the morning air like a serrated knife.
    “How did you get in—”
    He quickly cuts me off. “No questions. How many times do I have to tell you? If you haven’t already figured out the answer, you don’t deserve to hear it.”
    I look up to the clouded sky and let out a long breath. “Yes, Jackal.”
    He grunts. “Well, what do you know, you
do
remember my name, eh?” A moment of silence passes, and then he hops on the railing, swinging his legs off the side and sitting next to me. He turns and glares, his red eyes boring into me. “Funny, because you don’t seem to remember a single thing I taught you.”
    I think of smiling and trying to pass his words off as a joke. But Jackal sees through my smiles every time, so I just bite at my lip and stare out into the ocean, glowering at the churning waves.
    “You’ve been leaving a trail, Faye,” Jackal says, his voice low. “Sketchy informants, too much money, and badly-concealed trips away from the castle. It’s a bad mix, and you know it.”
    I roll my eyes, turning my head so he doesn’t see. It’s useless. I feel a sharp slap strike the back of my head, and I hold back another yelp.
    I reach up and rub the back of my head ruefully. “That ‘bad mix’ is necessary.”
    “No, it’s not.”
    “Says you.”
    “Yes, says me. The commander of the Iris guard, your mentor, and a Council member.”
    “
Former
commander,
former
mentor,
former
Council member.”
    Another slap hits my head. I glare at him, looking straight at him for the first time in months.
    Jackal is one of the few Vampire-human hybrids in the world, and an unusual mix of lithe muscle and broad shoulders. His face is perpetually turned down into a bored expression, but his eyes tell the real story: They constantly flit around, assessing his surroundings, searching for danger.
    Years ago, Jackal was the royal bodyguard—or Guardian—for one of my aunts. Like most Guardians, he fell in love with his charge, only to have her ripped away when she was assassinated. Since then, Jackal has devoted his life to the Iris Guard, where he eventually became the commander of the mercenary Vampires.
    It’s not good news for most people. Everyone and everything is a threat, in Jackal’s mind. Most demon hybrids go crazy sometime in their life, and Jackal is no exception. After he publicly threatened to gut Jolik a few months ago, Father decided that his craziness had gone too far, and banned him from the castle and his duties as the Iris Guard commander.
    “That hurt,” I