Counting Shadows (Duplicity)

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