Counting Shadows (Duplicity)

choice to make. Kill Father, or let my country be captured. Either way, people will suffer. Giving the country over to Shale means thousands of people forced into slavery and battle. But a war against Shale could result in just as many Irradorian casualties—or more.
    I read the note again, then a third and fourth time. The words impact me one by one, crushing me. I take a shuddering breath and crumple the letter into a ball.
    “No,” I murmur, throwing it into the fire.

Twenty
    I startle awake as something flops down on my bed, right next to my head. I peel my eyes open to see it’s a book, the huge one Jackal gave me on mythology. But why…?
    “I want to show you something.”
    It’s Lor’s voice. I turn toward it and find him standing above me, his expression dark. He waves a hand at me, gesturing for me to move. I blink a couple times and peer out the window. Light pours into the guest room, brightening it with afternoon sun. Didn’t I close those curtains? And why am I in bed, when it’s afternoon?
    Then I remember. Crumpling the note up, burning it, and trying to sleep away my worries. I must have fallen asleep hours ago.
    “Scooch over,” Lor says.
    “Lor, I am not letting you in bed with me,” I mumble. It strikes me that the book he tossed on the bed is one from my closet. Which means he’s been in my closet, and probably snooping around the rest of my room. I glare up at his bleary form.
    “Move,” he insists.
    “But I’m in my nightgown.”
    “And I’m wearing a shirt. See, we all have clothes on. Now
move
.”
    I blink a couple times and stare at him, just to check that he’s not lying. He’s not. He wears the fresh green tunic and brown breeches I put out for him the night before. I’d put them next to the tub in the washroom, which means he’s probably taken a bath. I sniff, relieved to find that he smells like soap and not prison.
    Lor rolls his eyes. “Are you going to just keep sniffing me, or are you going to—”
    “I’m moving,” I snap. I slide to the other side of the bed, and he sits next to me, folding his legs. His movements are smooth and powerful, like a wolf’s. He grabs the book and opens it, flipping through it a page at a time.
One, two, three, four, five, six…
    “Are you going to read me a bedtime story?”
    “Hardy-har-har,” Lor mutters.
    “Because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s afternoon. Not prime time for bedtime stories.”
    “Not time for sleeping, either. You should thank me for waking you up.”
    I curse him and flop back onto my pillows.
    “Has anyone ever told you that you can be really cranky?”
    “Yes. They were never seen again.”
    “Give me a second,” Lor says, ignoring my comment. He flips to another page. “It should be in here somewhere.”
    I peer at the aging book. “What should be in there?”
    “You want answers about Jay. I’m giving them to you.”
    I take a deep breath, steadying myself. I’m not sure what answers could be in a mythology book—maybe some kind of code, or a hidden message. But, whatever it is, I’m ready to face it.
    Lor continues flipping through the book, and I bite at my lip. It’s still sore from yesterday, when I bit through the skin during the Match. A minute passes, and Lor still hasn’t found the right page. I sigh, deciding I need some sort of distraction from my twisting stomach.
    “Why did Ashe look so different from you?” I blurt out. “I mean, you were twins, but you looked nothing alike. He didn’t have your hair, or your build, or even your skin.”
    Lor flips another page. “Angels are born differently than humans,” he says. “What I said about us all looking the same is mildly true. We take after one of our parents exactly. But only one of them. Ashe took after our mother, and I took after our father.”
    I think of Ashe’s pale complexion and slender build and dark hair. The only thing Lor shares with Ashe is his eyes. They both have—
had
— gorgeous, wide eyes that are partially concealed with thick lashes.
    I shake my head, realizing I’ve just thought of Lor as gorgeous. Sure, he’s handsome, but that’s no excuse to start ogling Ashe’s twin.
    Then something strikes me. It steals my breath away, leaving me unable to voice the question I desperately want to ask. After a moment, I manage to suck in a deep breath and ask, “Lor, you said Angels take after one of their parents? Nearly exactly?”
    “Yes.”
    “The man I saw, the one who turned in