Counting Shadows (Duplicity)

‘really’.”
    I shrug and try not to show my surprise. Ashe pointed that out to me a couple years ago, but I’m not sure how Lor picked up on it so quickly.
    “What’s your point?”
    “You’re lying to me. And I don’t like lies, either.”
    “You could’ve fooled me,” I snap.
    “Look, I already apologized for lying to you. And I’ve already more than made up for it by telling you things you probably should never know. So I deserve an answer. What’s wrong?”
    I let my head fall back. My long bangs flop into my face, and I don’t bother to brush them away. I can see my hair in the corner of my eye, so dark it almost gleams blue.
‘Like a raven,’
Ashe once said. I remember swatting him for that, and reminding him that ravens are a symbol of death in Irrador. He’d teasingly called me “raven” after, just trying to irk me. But soon after that, he started calling me “sparrowhawk”.
His
little sparrowhawk. He’d said I was just like one: small, but fierce and beautiful. The nickname always made me smile.
    I shouldn’t have argued when he called me “raven”. Because Ashe was right the first time.
    I open my mouth to tell Lor everything, to admit to the monster I am. But my throat constricts and my mouth dries out, and I can’t say anything.
    “I’m going to go lay down in my room,” I say instead. My voice is raspy and high instead of the nonchalant tone I was aiming for.
    Lor scoffs and shakes his head. “Fine. Run away, if you have to. That tactic seems to treat you well.”
    “I’m not running.”
    “What do you
think
you’ve been doing, sweetheart? Chasing after Asair? Taking me as your Guardian?”
    I stand from my seat, fists clenched. “I’m trying to avenge your brother’s death!”
    Lor laughs, the sound derisive and cutting. “No, you’re not. You’re
running
from his death.”
    “You
don’t
know me,” I hiss.
    “You’re right, I don’t. But I know running when I see it. You don’t want to admit that my brother is dead, so you’re putting on this little revenge gimmick to distract yourself.”
    “
Gimmick
?” I repeat, my voice a snarl.
    “You wouldn’t really kill Asair, not even if he was standing right in front of you. You’re the one who’s going to die when you find him. You don’t have it in you to kill.”
    I close my eyes, trying to ignore Lor’s biting words. All it does is make me focus on the simmering rage in my gut. I gasp in a deep breath, taking the anger in, absorbing it. “But that’s where you’re wrong,” I whisper.

Twenty-Three
    Two days after our fight, Lor’s wound is nearly healed, and he’s growing restless. I wish I could say the same. It takes all my effort to just get out of bed in the morning, and my head constantly aches with swirling thoughts.
    Lor spends most of the morning pacing up and down the hallway, a book in one hand, and a half-eaten apple in the other. He keeps tossing the apple high into the air, catching at it, nibbling a little bite off, and then tossing it again. All the time, his eyes stay focused on the book, which he reads as he paces.
    I watch Lor from my chair in the sitting room, unsure how he can be related to Ashe. Lor passes me again in a flurry of footsteps and soft mutterings as he quietly reads the book out-loud. Ashe would never act in such a way; he’d read his book like a civilized person.
    I take a deep breath and try to focus on my own book in front of me. This one is about agriculture, and the words slip away from me just as fast as they did the other day. And Lor isn’t helping. With his pacing, and his apple
thunk-thunk-thunk
-ing into his palm, it’s nearly impossible to focus.
    My thoughts slip away from the words in front of me and wander back to Ashe and his books. He’d always loved my library. Nearly every morning, I’d wake to find him perched on the edge of the balcony with a book in his hand. His legs would swing back and forth in an unmeasured rhythm, and every once in a while, he’d shift to the right to follow the rays of the rising sun. He’d always looked happiest then.
    “I need to get out of here,” Lor says, breaking into my thoughts.
    I ignore him and flip to the next page.
    “Did you hear me?” Lor strides over to the chair and halts right in front of me. “I need to get out of this place. Now. Before I go insane.”
    I peek over the edge of my book to look at him. He’s a different man than the Lor I first encountered. He no longer looks