There was light coming from somewhere, but the canopy curtain was drawn all around the bed, leaving Ismene in shadow. She must have closed the curtains the night before, she thought. She rolled over, pulling aside the canopy slightly to check the timepiece that sat on her bedside table. It was fairly early, despite how well-rested she felt. She had hours.


    Sometimes, she thought, time didn''t quite work right in the Castle. She felt like she''d slept for ten hours, not five.


    The whole landscape outside her apartment was different, with sunlight coruscating over the mountains. At night, the view had seemed deep and peaceful; now it was stark and even colder-looking. The morning sunlight hit the lanterns in the main room, throwing flashes of light onto the walls. The couches looked cozy, and Ismene looked forward to relaxing on one later while she read.


    But Ismene had to get things done before Harmonia found out about her shirking the night before. Ismene ducked back through the bedroom into the bathing room. "Ohh," Ismene marveled to herself. In the daylight, the aspect of the room was entirely changed. The bath had glassed windows, like the bedroom and main room, but here the glass was colored and pieced together in a flourish of colors. Hues of tinted sunlight flooded across the room.


    She just washed up, though; she''d do baths when she had the time. Once the read-ins and the books to take home were done, then she could get away with leisure. She paid her hair no more mind than it took to pull it back, like most servants, and under servant clothes, there wasn''t much point in considering how her body looked. Dressing and clasping her House-red robes over her servant wear, Ismene left her sanctuary for the Library.


    The Library was more dimly lit, and cooler, than the halls. The darkness of stone and shelf made for a night-like, isolated atmosphere, even in the morning. Reading lamps at desks were cozy islands of light. Ismene never really felt like many people were present, even when it was relatively busy. She approached the front desk with her books; there, sitting with unchanging equanimity, was a Hand.


    "Hello," Ismene greeted them quietly. "I''m Ismene; I have Harmonia''s documents." She set down both of her cases, grateful to relieve the strain on her shoulders.


    "Good morning." The librarian Hand spoke with the same measured, toneless voice as the other Hands. "Reading stations are available. You may use one now if you wish."


    "Thank you!," Ismene said, and moved on.


    She appropriated a cart to carry her cases and, loading them on, pushed them to the back of the hall. She passed column after column of stacks, each a tall looming skeleton of wood and metal that held countless uniformly-bound volumes on its shelves.


    Maybe five or six people were in the stacks or reading quietly. Not all of them were wearing Tyrenian colors and badges; there were some with other symbols, or no symbols at all; clothes chosen more for comfort than identification. Some might have crossed over the northern mountains; the states there didn''t really care what people wore, so Ismene couldn''t tell what sort of status they had. Maybe they''d even traveled from the plains in the far west. There was no one in Apiate robes. Ismene had read of the Apion State in the south, but rarely seen anyone from it. Supposedly, they considered the Castle heretical.


    She nodded courteously to anyone she passed, Tyrenian or not. Even when Ismene could not identify someone''s role, she saw no reason not to be polite. Besides, if a Tyrenian wasn''t an employer, then they probably worked for one. Ismene wasn''t about to insult someone''s servant and give Harmonia an excuse to be mad at her.


    There were also fewer Tyrenians present this time than last. It seemed to Ismene like fewer people were being approved for travel lately. There might be some political reason behind it. Prytane Mellon, Harmonia''s father and superior, seemed to have no trouble getting her approvals, but the Assembly did sometimes get contentious about the Library''s contents.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    At the end of the hall, the stacks ended and there were rows of doors. The Library wasn''t just vast; it had something that no other library did. It, itself, could read.


    Ismene drew her cart up and slid a door aside. Inside there was a small space, with a flat desk on either side and a slot in the wall for the material that would be read. She set her cases down on one side, following long habit. Unlocking one of them, she picked up her first book (a slim, paper-bound yearly report on a factory), and opened it to the first page, placing it face-up in the slot. A faint magenta glow filled the cavity, bathing the book in light.


    Ismene didn''t know how the Castle read the book. Somehow, it managed to learn, record, and remember; that was enough for her. A light appeared next to the slot, prompting her to turn the page. Ismene paged through the book as directed, allowed each set of pages to be read in the magenta glow, and placed the finished text aside on the desk opposite the cases.


    With each text, be it book, pamphlet, score or scroll, Ismene helped the Library add to its collection. The originals would go back home with them, if Harmonia didn''t decide to junk them. There was a pleasant rhythm to the process of putting each text through its paces. Slowly, Ismene built up a pile of finished items. Sometimes it felt like the quantity left to read would never decrease; but if she kept moving, eventually, she would be done.


    "Ismene?"


    Ismene looked up from her stack—most-ways through the first container—and found Eryx.


    Eryx didn''t have Mellon''s House colors on, like Ismene; only her red badge indicated her patron. Her robe was light indigo, the same dye as her tunic and trousers. Behind them, one or two Tyrenians were looking at her curiously, but no one said anything. Perhaps some saw Mellon''s badge; maybe others just didn''t want to confront her. No one did. An altercation might reflect badly on their abilities to get a permit next time.


    She could have worn House colors, Ismene thought. For that matter, Ismene didn''t know where Eryx could have gotten a robe in worker blue. The House stores carried red, for Mellon''s House. Did the Servant''s Guild give those out? Was Eryx that much of an activist?


    "Good morning, Eryx," Ismene greeted her.


    "Hey," Eryx said, apparently relieved to see her. "Will you be here for a while?"


    "Yes," Ismene said. Then she cocked her head. "How are you doing?"


    "I''ll live, I suppose," Eryx muttered quietly. "Room''s nice. Dreamed about my first job." She smiled, but with a hint of melancholy. "You said this place was nice; but I don''t think I realized how nice," she said, changing the topic.


    Ismene smiled. "Comfortable?"


    "Yes," Eryx admitted. "I couldn''t ask for better hospitality." She frowned. "You''re sure we aren''t going to be docked at home?"


    "It''s part of the tradition here," Ismene shrugged. "Harmonia''s not getting charged for this. We won''t be."


    That didn''t quite reassure Eryx (Ismene didn''t blame her; usually such things were set down on paper somewhere, and she didn''t know if any such agreement existed), but she accepted the statement. "There''s fewer people than I thought," she said looking back over the main library. "Is Harmonia up?"


    "Not yet," Ismene said, turning a page in her book—a volume of poetry—for the reader. "Give me a few moments; I can finish this and set you up."


    "Hmm," Eryx said, settling into the reader alcove alongside her. Ismene kept turning pages. After a few minutes, Eryx looked out at the larger room, and slid the door to the reader shut. No one would overhear them. "This place still baffles me."


    "What do you mean?" Ismene asked.


    "No one''s in charge." Eryx said, keeping her voice down despite the closed door. "Who are the Hands working for? The Voice? The Voice acts like an emissary, not a ruler." She raised her hands, gesturing at their surroundings. "This place could seat an empire, and our soldiers never even cross the border to take it. There are no settlements. Nothing about this makes sense."


    "I don''t know," Ismene said. "It''s the Castle; it''s alive, more or less. The Voice speaks for it. I like that it''s left alone."


    "That''s the thing," Eryx said. "The land is empty. There''s nothing keeping business families from moving in. Any number of Prytanes would have done it years ago. Take the Library to keep all this private material out of someone else''s hands," she described. "Start cultivating the land. If they really wanted to tell the temples to stuff it about sacred history, they would. But they don''t."