Counting Shadows (Duplicity)

Ashe for treason… He looked just like you. That’s why I visited you in prison, because I thought you were him. I know you’re not him, because he had different scars and he didn’t have your tattoo. But he must have been related to you.”
    Lor’s finger stops trailing down the page. He finally takes his eyes off the book and looks up to me. “I know, Faye. His name is Asair. He’s my older brother.”
    I close my eyes and repeat the name in my head.
Asair. Asair. Asair
. I can’t forget it, because the man I’ve been searching for finally has a name. He’s finally a solid target, and not a waft of smoke in the wind.
    Then my stomach tightens and begins to twist. Because the man who turned in Ashe—who betrayed him, who killed him—had been his own brother. And Ashe didn’t deserve that kind of death. He didn’t deserve death at all.
    “What exactly did Asair do?” Lor asks. His voice is hushed and hesitant, like he doesn’t really want to know.
    I look over to him, and for the first time, I see pain in Lor’s expression. Real pain, the kind that wrenches at the soul until it’s exposed on the outside. I decide I like Lor’s soul. It’s hardened and tough, but it’s merely shielded, and not ruined.
    “I’m not exactly sure,” I reply honestly. “I don’t know many details. But he appeared one day in my father’s court, and I overheard him talking to Father. All I heard at the time was Ashe’s killer…
Asair
telling Father that someone was traitorous. I didn’t think much about it until Ashe was taken away. After that, I found out that Asair had claimed Ashe had plans to kill me in my sleep. And he had a document that Father seemed to think proved this.” I grit my teeth. “If Asair wanted Ashe’s death, it worked. He was given an unfair trial and killed just hours after he was arrested.”
    Lor winces and looks away. His hand slowly balls into a fist until it begins to shake. I consider leaving the room for safety, but then Lor lets out a long breath and shakes his head. “It wasn’t fair,” he murmurs. “Jay never did anything wrong.”
    “I’m sorry.” I give him a minute longer to calm down, and then say, “I need to know where I can find Asair.”
    Lor clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “Why?”
    “I need to kill him.”
    Lor laughs, and his lip lifts into a sneer. “Kill him? Kill
Asair
? No, you can’t do that. Believe me, he’s invincible. It’s part of the reason I’m here and not back at my home waiting to inherit my throne.”
    “What’s the other reason?”
    Lor’s shoulders arch like an offended cat. “I’m not going to talk about that,” he mutters.
    I open my mouth to protest, but then Lor smacks a finger against the book, pointing to a passage.
    “Here,” he says. “This is what I’ve been looking for.” He draws an invisible circle with his finger around a paragraph, and then shoves the book toward me. “Read it.”
    I snatch the book from Lor’s hands and eagerly scan the pages. They’re yellowed with age, and the ink is faded is some places, but it’s still readable.
    Lor makes that half growl, half hum noise. “A little eager, are we?”
    “I’ve waited years to find out about Ashe,” I say. “If there’s answers in this book, I want them. Now.”
    Lor taps the passage again. “Then read here.”
    I peer down at the page. It takes me a moment to adjust to the ornate handwriting; it’s flowing, decorative script, and very different from the simplistic writing that fills most of my books.
    ‘The Angel people have passed down a legend throughout the centuries,’
the book reads.
‘The legend is called Sil Te-Fa. In our language, this title loosely translates to The Final Prophecy. The legend is said to predict the Angel people’s rise to greatness above all other species.’
    I peer over the edge of the book to give Lor a skeptical look. He rolls his eyes.
    “I know it sounds crazy,” he says. “But just keep reading.”
    “You just spent all that time trying to find this? A passage about some ancient fable?”
    “If I’d just told it to you, you wouldn’t have had any reason to believe me,” he says. “So just read it.”
    I sigh and return my gaze to the aging paper.
‘The origins of the legend are unsure, but it is believed to be over a thousand years old. Many believe it is older than this. Because of its age, most of the legend has been lost throughout the years. But small portions of it have been