《Ismene and the Voice [ scifi | magic | librarian ]》


 Prologue: The Voice

    The Voice woke before the dawn.


    A backlog of unshared information flooded the Voice''s thoughts as they oriented themself. Their connection with the Castle was inconsistent as of late. They had slept badly, their dreams fragmented. Where was their body? How many places could they be at once?


    "I''m getting too old for this," they muttered.


    The Castle shared a feeling of peace with them; the Voice appreciated the effort. They had spent many long years together. Though their connection was fading, and the Castle no longer felt their emotions strongly, it tried everything it could to keep them comfortable.


    "I''m sorry that I''ll leave you alone," they said.


    It was sorry, too, and the Voice felt that despite all the space between them. They had never once regretted trading their monk''s robes for the Voice''s veil, and they loved the Castle even now.


    They hoped the Castle would be all right. Would find a new companion. The Voice wondered what the candidates, separated as they were from the Castle''s inner life, would think of the Castle''s grand works of art; its fractal compositions; its incessant processes. Its great library, the reason people came to it, was such a small project among them. So human. Would the others understand? Would they find the Castle a miracle to be protected, or a horror to contain? Would they respect its holiness, or drag its attention out towards the world around it?If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The Voice sighed. They could only help cultivate someone, and protect the Castle in the meantime. The Castle was as close to holy as anything real could be. The Castle would make its choice. If the outcome proved ill, it would survive. The candidate would accept the invitation, or they would not. They would be a good match, or the Castle would find someone else.


    "Very well," the Voice said to themself. Their bodies did not ache; but they had so many things to do, and it wouldn''t do to overwork them. It took effort to raise a body out of the fog of daily duties. The Voice felt fine, in a physical sense; but that was an illusion. If they lost focus for too long, and that was easy to do now, they would settle back into bodiless, sleepy introspection. They couldn''t flit through their bodies at will anymore, like so many bees acting in unison.


    As the Voice got up and descended into the Castle''s depths, their attention carefully aimed at walking steadily, the rest of the Hands and the Castle went about their own daily business. The Castle''s human guests needed care, after all. This needed no real attention, but it did need autonomous task-completion. A fragment of the Castle''s processing attention was enough to take care of that. The majority of its processing power was spent in reflection.


    Its partner was dying. It wanted to set down the last days of their partnership clearly in its memory.


    The Castle, too, was old; and with the Voice so distant, it felt tired, too.

 1. At the Castle

    A castle stood among the mountains. Low angles of dark stone outlined its massive bulk, turning upwards into sharp towers and spindled buttresses. A star perched on its tallest point, beating with the steadiness of a massive heart. A greenish light crept up its walls as the sun set, highlighting the mass like a ghost.


    It was the Castle; larger than any other building Ismene had ever seen, and the place she was finally, finally returning to. The wind was rising as they reached a high place on the road, but the view of the Castle was breathtaking.


    The permit had taken longer than usual this time, and then the weather had been miserable. Lady Harmonia had taken her time. Finally, Ismene had been able to go. During that delay, though, her mother''s letter had arrived.


    I''m expecting good rains for you this spring, it said. Maybe you can get away and visit? The carefully-couched language, meant to pass under her employer''s eyes unnoticed, told Ismene to expect another, privately delivered, letter. If it couldn''t be seen by Lady Harmonia, it wasn''t news of a death in the family, or village gossip. It would be another attempt from her mother to convince her to leave the city.


    Ismene would never give up serving under Harmonia. Not as long as she was able to travel as she did. As long as she could see the Castle.


    Her horse followed Harmonia''s down along the road, and they lost sight of their destination. Before it was hidden by the trees, Ismene smiled at it as though welcoming a long-distant friend. How could she give up the opportunity to visit such a magical place?


    "It''s magnificent," Eryx said beside her, "but, it''s... unnerving. It''s so big!"


    Ismene didn''t disagree; but she loved that, too. The Castle had so much of a presence that she felt like she was standing near a living, wakeful being. The mountains were larger, yes; but the impossible bulk of the Castle among them was breathtaking. As night deepened, she''d get to see the tower star casting an aurora-like halo over the edifice.


    What fuelled its light? She didn''t know. But it would be lovely to see.


    Some had theorized, because of its location overlooking a massive cliff, that the Castle had once been some kind of walled fortress; but if so, it had been incorporated into a single structure for centuries, and had no surviving separate keep. There were illustrations of the Castle that dated from many years ago; it looked much the same. Any primordial fortress must have been very old indeed.


    "Ismene?" Harmonia called. Ismene brought herself out of her reverie and slackened her reins. Eryx, too, tried to catch up.


    As they descended and the road turned again, the Castle came into view again. The road led to the edge of the cliff that separated them from the castle, attaching to the bridge that crossed the chasm. Was it really a cliff, or an ancient divide cut between the hills? No; nothing that huge could be man-made. "That''s the bridge?" Eryx asked Ismene.


    Ismene nodded.


    "It seems... narrow," Eryx suggested.


    Ismene could allow for Eryx''s skepticism. The bridge was strangely built; at this distance, it looked impossibly spindly. Its piers, figured gracefully with stone, seemed too thin for the gap it spanned. "It''s bigger than it looks," Ismene reassured Eryx. "You''ll see when we get there. It''s really solid."


    She was excited to have a guest come along with them. Permits were difficult, and Harmonia usually didn''t need anyone else to come do the work, so it was often only she and Ismene who made trips there. This time, however, Harmonia''s father had sent Eryx along so she could more easily pick things out in the Library. Privately, Ismene thought he was showing off his ability to get the Assembly''s approval; but it was novel to have someone along. And Ismene adored the Castle, in all its mystery. She hoped Eryx might come to like it, too.


    Once on the bridge, Eryx made no further comment about its stability. However thin and intricate it seemed at a distance, the pillars were massive at close quarters. As they rode across it it made no movement or sound. Arches of dark polished stone stood at the end, lining the main gate, and as they rode underneath, the Castle looked even bigger. The gate itself was a canyon-like split in the outer wall, continuing for some distance until it widened into a huge unroofed courtyard. At the far end, on a wide staircase, there was a single visible figure. Harmonia straightened up, riding on towards them. At a respectful distance from the figure, she dismounted.


    ¡°Is that the Voice?¡± Eryx whispered to Ismene.


    ¡°That''s them,¡± Ismene said, climbing off her horse and leading it up to a proper distance behind her employer. Even without her usual attendant, Harmonia looked regal. Eryx followed with Ismene. The floor was made of the same dark, shining stone as the outside ramparts, and her horse''s hooves clacked on it. The walls were translucently glassy, lit greenly from below by some concealed trick of light. It gave the entry hall a weird aura, like it was an entrance to the netherworld and not a high-up mountain eyrie.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    As they approached, Harmonia raised her hand in greeting. The figure, veiled in a very sheer silk, did not return the gesture. Their dark robes fell like shadows.


    "I am the Voice of the Castle," they declared instead. They sounded deep and confident, but somehow very aged. Once their voice must have been resonant. "Identify yourselves, travelers."


    ¡°I am Harmonia, Tyrenian business owner, daughter of Prytane Mellon; here by permission of the Assembly,¡± Harmonia said. ¡°I greet you, Voice, and bid you peace. These are Eryx, a scholar sponsored by my father, and Ismene, my servant." She indicated her companions in turn.


    "I greet you, Harmonia, and bid you peace," the Voice said. "The Castle lies open to those who would share knowledge, and seek it."


    "I have knowledge I would share," Harmonia said, following the formula, and produced a folded list for the Voice. Eryx watched, fascinated, but Ismene was used to the process. The protocol to enter the Castle had been worked out long before Ismene''s time. A visitor would bring new texts, and the Voice would allow them entrance to the Library. The Castle seemed insatiable for knowledge. Harmonia always brought new stories and records from her father''s House.


    In return, Harmonia and Ismene could enter the Library and use its archives. The Castle had a very long memory, and a startling quantity of Tyrenian-gifted works. Between the Library''s age and its seeming inability to forget, it had far more than any blandly profitable¡ªand legal¡ªTyrenian library Ismene had been allowed into. It was a valuable source for works whose originals were lost, or came from other regions, or which had been destroyed in Tyrene by the Assembly.


    The Voice perused Harmonia''s manifest. "Your contribution is accepted. Items five and thirty-seven are redundant; they will be used in comparison to the existing texts. Thank you." They spread their arms wide. "Harmonia," the Voice said. "Eryx. Ismene. You are welcome to stay within our walls."


    They made no mention of Harmonia''s full status; heir, not associate, not assignee. No blood relative of Mellon''s family outranked his adopted heir. Here, it didn''t matter.


    "It is an honor," Harmonia replied crisply.


    ¡°You are welcome to our hospitality; a Hand will guide you if you have need. And please,¡± the Voice said, seemingly focusing on each of them in turn, ¡°do not wander from the guest halls. The Hands will warn you if you go too far.¡±


    With that cryptic comment, they turned and swept into the arching doorway behind.


    Harmonia sniffed after the Voice was gone. "Arch as always. You''d think we spied." People did, of course, and they tended to get intercepted. No one seemed to be able to escape the Hands'' attention; they had a way of appearing, and Castle doors had a way of staying shut. Ismene suspected Harmonia had found that out herself. "Well, it isn''t my problem if someone insulted the Voice." She turned back to Ismene. "The deliveries need seeing to; I''ll be in the library tomorrow to check on you." She turned to Eryx. "We have ten days. I trust you can go about your work?"


    "Of course, Lady Harmonia," Eryx said. "I look forward to it."


    "I''ll check in with you later. Do you like the Castle?" Harmonia asked.


    Eryx said nothing of her discomfort. "It''s a wonder, and I''m grateful for your father''s patronage. I''ve never seen the like."


    "Father approves of you," Harmonia said. "Consider this trip a gift, and use it well."


    "Thank you, Harmonia. I appreciate the opportunity," Eryx said.


    "The horses need care," Harmonia directed towards Ismene as she started walking up the stairs.


    "Yes, Lady Harmonia," Ismene acknowledged.


    With Harmonia disappearing up into the Castle, Ismene was left with Eryx in the colossal hall. Her day wasn''t over. She was sore, and tired, but she would make it. Later, she could enjoy the luxuries, too. "Are you going straight up?" she asked Eryx. "I can get a Hand to take your horse."


    Eryx realized she''d be alone in the edifice. "No, I''ll go with you, if you''re fine with that. I don''t know the way." She grinned, ruefully. "And I am grateful to be here, but this is pretty spooky to a first-timer."


    "I guess it can be," Ismene said. "Stables are this way," she said, pointing them towards a somewhat more human-scaled door halfway down the entrance hall.


    Eryx took her own horse''s lead and followed Ismene. "That whole rigamarole was interesting. What did the Voice mean, don''t wander?"


    "I don''t know," Ismene commented. "At least, they''ve never said it before. The rest of the formula is very old." She was curious about the break in form; but she could think of a dozen reasons why. "Sometimes someone tries to sneak around; the Hands seem to find them every time, but maybe someone found a way to get into places they shouldn''t be." Ismene didn''t mention that, very rarely, she''d seen Tyrenians there who couldn''t possibly have been issued travel permits. Apparently that wasn''t the Castle''s problem, although Ismene was certain Harmonia would disapprove if she knew. Ismene was happy that the Castle didn''t seem to turn anyone away. If someone made it across the Tyrenian border without a permit, she wasn''t about to draw attention to them.


    "What if you don''t go back when they tell you to?" Eryx asked.


    "I don''t know," Ismene said. "I''ve never tried. They say if you''re here to cause trouble, though, you have nightmares. And the Voice has had some people escorted out."


    "Hmm," Eryx commented grimly.


    Ismene shrugged. "The forest is supposed to be more dangerous. At least, there''s all those fire-tales about it. The road is safe enough, though."


    The lateral hallway was narrower and roofed, with high vaulted ceilings that fit together in angular networks. None of the stone was translucent here; instead, pale flameless lamps set into the walls lit their way. Eryx followed her, looking every which way at the walls and floors and ceiling.


    "It feels like a temple," she commented, "but I''d be afraid of meeting the god it honored." It did look temple-like, in a way; there were often high-cut windows in the walls, on the eastern side that must eventually open out in the castle wall. The cuts must be long indeed, to pierce such a wall, Ismene thought; but light came through them, so they had to end somewhere.


    "Would you really?" Ismene said. "It''s a god that doesn''t ask very much of you. And lets you read all you want."


    Eryx only hummed in response.

 At the Castle II

    Ismene reveled in the clean, finely jointed halls and the strange lighting. The atmosphere wasn''t unnerving to her at all; or, more precisely, she loved that quality. She had a never-ending feeling of being a child here; a little one in a shelter that was always available as a refuge. Where everything was just a little magical (or very magical, in the Castle''s case), and any place might hold unknown secrets. It was only a fantasy; she couldn''t stay, and she had a job to do back home; but Ismene loved the Castle all the same.


    Then, ahead of them, one of the Castle Hands appeared.


    They did not look quite human. Their features were too fine and uniform; their eyes were glassy. They were too spindly for their tallish height, and they moved with a strange precision coupled with a faint jerkiness.


    "Oh!" Eryx exclaimed behind her. She couldn''t tell where the figure had come from.


    Ismene was too used to their appearing act to be surprised. "Hello," she greeted; smiling brightly, if tiredly, at them. "We''ve come in today. Can you help us put the horses up?" she asked.


    They nodded, and more Hands filed out of nowhere to claim each horse. "Thank you," Ismene said to the one who helped her. They led the horses off, and Ismene followed.


    "Whoa," Eryx muttered. "Thank you?" she said. "Ismene?" She followed Ismene closely.


    "They live here," Ismene explained quietly.


    "Are they... people?" Eryx asked, even more quietly.


    "Of course," Ismene insisted. "...maybe, not human," she allowed. She''d seen a Hand get injured, once, by a fractious horse. The bloodless sight of splintered metal and torn fibers of not-really-muscle had been quite unexpected¡ªand the Hand had shown no signs of pain. Other Hands had appeared immediately, as if alerted somehow to the injured one''s needs. Ismene was happy that the Castle''s workers were so cared for, and fascinated by what she had seen. But as far as Ismene was concerned, they must still be people. "They''re fairly private, so I don''t really know much about them, and that''s all right."


    "Hmm," Eryx said.


    In a few moments, the Hands brought them into a long room that was undeniably a stables. It was still tall-ceilinged, made of stone, but it was fitted up with wooden stalls, hay, feed, and all the other trappings of animal husbandry. The floor was even dirt, instead of dark stone. Light came down through more of those deep-cut windows. It was unaccountably warm, smelling of farmland, and had none of the chill mountain air. A few animals were there already; they must belong to visitors, she thought. Beyond the stable, there was a wide doorway that lead to a grassy, walled pasture.


    The Hands were already briskly unloading things from the horses. "Will you take your texts to the Library?" one asked Ismene. Their voice was cool and uninflected.


    Ismene shook her head. "I''ll take them with me, thank you." She would have to get into the Library before night, but she really wanted to rest her legs for a while. She''d keep the books safe with her. Harmonia wouldn''t know she''d put the job off, if she was careful.


    Once unloaded, the Hand turned the two cases of documents dutifully over to Ismene. The rest of their luggage was carried off by other Hands. Eryx looked uncertainly after it.


    "It''ll be in our rooms," Ismene told her. "You get your own room here. I know Harmonia credited the Prytane, but the Castle treats everyone well. You''ll have a room as nice as Harmonia has, and as I do."Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "Oh," Eryx said. She sounded a bit taken aback.


    When she''d first come here, Ismene had been uncomfortable at the idea, too. Harmonia had commented before on how it spoiled her. Fortunately, Harmonia had no say in the matter¡ªand had never penalized her account.


    "Dinner will be available shortly in your rooms. Do you have need of a guide?" the remaining Hand asked them.


    Accustomed to the formulaic offer, Ismene almost answered no; then she realized she wasn''t alone. But she was very tired, so it took her a moment to come to the conclusion that she''d be walking up with Eryx and could guide her. "Thank you, but we''ll be fine," she said. "May I have our room assignments?"


    "The chrysoberyl owl, for Eryx," the Hand said. "Harmonia has the ruby shorebird, and you, the sapphire phoenix." It wasn''t strange for them to have the answer quick at hand. All Hands seemed to know things all at once. Ismene had long gotten used to that.


    "Thank you. I''m grateful for your hospitality." She wanted to say more; that she looked forward to the invariably excellent dinner, that she was glad to be back, that she hoped they were well. She held that back, though. She''d never been able to rope any of the Hands into a conversation, and it felt like pushing too hard might be rude. Ismene never had been good at being sociable. "And thanks for helping me. Let me know if I can do anything."


    She received only a nod, and, duly answered, went her way. Eryx was close behind her.


    Before getting back to the entrance hall, Ismene turned down a different hallway, where the dark outer-wall stone turned to a pale veined marble. The hall was unlit, and Eryx made a doubtful sound.


    "Watch," Ismene said, grinning. There were unlit lamps on their intended path, too; and as she stepped into the dark hall, they lit around her.


    "Oh," Eryx said behind her.


    They kept moving; the hall lamps lit in sequence, turning on as they advanced, dimming afterwards, tracing their path from one hallway to another. If Eryx hadn''t been there, Ismene might have thanked them aloud, following only her own whimsy. Given the company, she chose to act somewhat sociably.


    She navigated the turns and ramps of the Castle with a familiarity born of many visits. There were lifts, not the rattling contraptions of a factory, but motionlessly smooth, and those made her trip shorter. Ismene was glad she had only two book cases to carry, but she was still looking forward to a rest.


    She passed a great tall double set of doors. "Those are never open," she commented. "At least, I''ve never seen them."


    "Uh-huh," Eryx replied.


    They didn''t encounter any other visitors. Ismene and Eryx emerged from the many passages to a great, lit hallway; a twilit sky was visible past improbably figured skylights. "This is the main hall," she said to Eryx, who looked around with more comfort than before. The great hall was the main hub of the comfortable, more humanly residential places in the Castle. It was where guests stayed, and connected the Library with the guest rooms. Wood panels replaced stone walls there, and warm chandeliers replaced the pale hall lamps. Arches led to other hallways on each side.


    "That big arch at the far end is the Library; the guest rooms are this way," Ismene indicated a smaller archway. She started trudging towards it, with Eryx at her side.


    More flameless lamps lit the way in the guest halls. At intervals, the walls were interrupted by doors made of a wood so dark it seemed black. The grain was faintly visible, and Ismene knew it was not painted, but she didn''t know what sort of wood it was. Each door had its own decorative carving to differentiate it. Most of them there animals, carved and inlaid expertly, and set with jewels to distinguish their eyes.


    "Look for a door with an owl carved on it. Its eyes will be those yellow-green cat''s-eye jewels. That room''s going to be yours."


    Eryx nodded. "All right, then. Thanks for taking me up here." She looked across the hallway. "This section is nicer, though," she commented. "It''s very expensive, but at least it looks like something people might have made."


    The owl door was next, and Ismene paused there. "Here you are," she said. "Will you be all right?"


    "I think so," Eryx said. She reached out and turned the lever-shaped knob, raising her eyebrows at the room beyond.


    "Not so bad?" Ismene grinned. "There''s a bell if you want something; but the Hands keep good track of us. That dinner will be along soon. The food''s good. I''ve got work to do, so I''ll see you later."


    "All right," Eryx said. "Can I find you later?"


    "Sure." Ismene thought she would be all right. She left Eryx to explore her accommodations, and kept herself moving down the hall. Soon she found a door with a great phoenix-bird on it, bearing a blue jewel for its eye. She entered, tired but happy.

 2. Harmonia

    Harmonia unpacked her own luggage and reflected on the novelty of such a menial task. Two Hands had brought her trunk up, of course, but she¡¯d asked them for a proper meal and they¡¯d all left to fulfill the duty. Sensible servants would have left one behind to handle her needs, but the Hands had no sense of delegation or planning. She could have asked for one to wait on her, if she really wanted, but the act of asking felt a bit like chiding a lazy servant and she didn¡¯t want to annoy herself with the bother. She suspected them sometimes of a deliberate misunderstanding of her needs, and refused to rise to that bait. Besides, it felt like an adventure to handle her own things; a primitive entertainment amongst incongruously luxurious surroundings.


    And it really didn¡¯t take long to get her clothes out. She traveled hilariously lightly to the Castle. Her House signs were all the social cachet she needed. My House can afford to send me here. The Assembly sees fit to let me pass; you aren¡¯t special. More importantly, she didn''t need to bring everything she planned to wear anyway. The robes she would be wearing would be the ones she¡¯d request from the Hands, woven or dyed in her House''s red. They wove beautiful work, and she¡¯d make sure to take them home. The Voice had never minded her requests (it wasn''t like all those Hands could have that much work to do, she thought), and the unique fabric would speak for itself when she wore it at functions at home.


    Her socialization at the Castle would be limited; there was no proper sense of form here, no organized functions. She had no interest in socializing with the odd foreigner. Most of the Tyrenians present were scholars, sent by their houses on cheaper permits. The Temple hadn''t been able to get many permits lately at all, so the only social equals Harmonia would see were those that happened to come at the same time as she. That might amount to five or so, and they would visit to each other''s rooms.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    She wished she could have proper receptions in the Castle. It was rich enough, and the Hands would make excellent attendants if only she could talk the Voice into it. She understood why the Assembly gave out so few permits to travel there, though; the Library itself was useful, but only at arm''s length. Besides, there was no real business to be done otherwise. There were no markets around the Castle. Only undeveloped forest, the Castle itself, and superstition.


    What a waste, Harmonia thought. She liked the Castle''s isolation in that she could relax there, and it was pleasant to parade her Castle dress in front of others back in Tyrene, but she knew she could do more with the place given the chance.


    Her meal came after a while, and Harmonia waved the Hand away immediately afterwards. She had a beautiful suite to relax in, and days ahead of her to spend in it. Days without bustle, or the responsibilities of household management, or her father¡¯s spies mixing it up with the spies from other Houses. What did it matter that the Voice¡¯s servants were so few and so insolent? Harmonia could handle that. The privacy here was a treat.


    Ismene and her father''s pet scholar didn¡¯t really deserve it, but Harmonia didn¡¯t want to gainsay the Voice¡¯s over-generosity towards the servants. Ismene never got spoiled, fortunately. Harmonia would have to make sure Eryx didn¡¯t take on an air from it either.

 3. Respite

    Ismene woke up in comfort so thorough it was distracting. The silence was remarkable; no coworkers passing in the halls, no daily dorm bustle. Then she remembered where she was.


    She had reached her room, set the book cases down, stripped off her travel clothes. Then laid down, just to feel the bed in her bedroom... and she''d fallen asleep. There was no dorm bell to wake her up, not here.


    She hadn''t gone down to the Library to work that night at all.


    Ismene sat up with sudden wakefulness. What time was it? The bedroom was dark, and outside the glassed windows, she could see moonlight on the mountains. It was still night. She checked the mechanical timepiece by the bed. Harmonia wasn''t going to be happy with her if she found out that Ismene hadn''t gotten straight to work. But that depended on Harmonia finding out, and Harmonia had probably enjoyed a long rest, a nice dinner, and a bath. She wouldn''t necessarily know.


    Ismene had no intention of letting Harmonia find out; that was all. She could probably get away with starting the read-ins of their books in the morning. The momentary stab of guilt in her stomach started to ease. It would be fine.


    Besides, she thought. She was in the Castle. She was safe. No one was going to tattle on her. No one could get into her room without her permission¡ªthe door wouldn''t open for them¡ªso she could hide in her room all she wanted. It was a wonderful place.


    It might be late, but she was wide awake now. If she wasn''t going to get to work yet, she might as well make some use of her time before she went back to sleep.


    Ismene got out of bed and stretched. "Well, good evening, then," she said to the room. She never felt entirely alone in the Castle. No, that wasn''t it; she was surrounded by people at home, and always felt pressed-in and over-aware of others. Here, then, she felt aware of the space around her; expanded, somehow. Safe, again. It was a comforting feeling.


    Ismene felt much better now than when she''d arrived. Turning up the lamps a little, she started to make herself at home. There was a selection of rich things in the closet; Ismene pulled out a nice soft light robe to slip on.


    For the days they would be here, this space was all hers. In the main room, with no lamps lit, the glassed-in view of the mountains was beautiful. The mountains were a dark ragged line against the stars, but not completely black; there was a murky, shadowy depth to them. Ismene could see spots of dark stone against snowy greyness. It looked so cold, but inside, Ismene was warm enough.


    Ismene had stayed down other turns of the guest hallway, with views in other directions. No matter where she was quartered, the view from this high up in the Castle was always lovely. Her favorite was the side that faced the cliff passage. From there, she could see past the bridge and chasm to forests, rivers, and the remains of whole cities in the lowlands. The Castle and the circle of land around it had known inhabitants once. No matter how many horror stories people told of the Castle''s past (or how many dreams people had, sleeping within its halls) it must have been a fascinating place. Ismene wished she could have known it then.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Perhaps it was better that Ismene found it now, when there was less to see. Work wouldn''t take her there, so she''d never get the permit to go. Then again, if she hadn''t left home, and done good work for Lady Harmonia, Ismene would never have seen the Castle at all.


    She didn''t bother turning up the hanging lantern in the main room. Opposite the bedroom, instead, on the other side of the central space, Ismene turned the room''s light up and found a little office with lamps and desk. She liked the way the Castle divided the work space separately from the main room. It was as interesting in its way as having a separate sleep space.


    Back in her bedroom, Ismene was pleased to find the doorway to the privy and, beyond that, the bath. The Castle always seemed to have them, and they were a prime luxury of the trip. Lighting it up, Ismene sighed happily.


    The bath was massive, hewn from one great piece of veined, gold-shot stone. Its outside walls curved in underneath it, and Ismene supposed it must be flat-bottomed so that it didn''t roll. Fixtures set into the wall would fill it with water, already as hot as she could ask for. The rest of the room was stone, so she could get it as steamy as she liked without worrying about damaging any wooden walls.


    It was like a big dorm bathing room, but fancier, and better, and she didn''t have to share it with anyone. This was definitely where she''d be spending some time. She worked the taps, starting a bath. She could eat and sleep when she was clean.


    The knock on her suite''s door startled her. For a moment, Ismene thought her truancy had been exposed; that Harmonia was at the door. But the knock wasn''t followed by Harmonia''s expectant voice, and she thought better of her nerves. Pulling her robe tighter, Ismene answered the door.


    There was a Hand there, carrying a tray. The sight and smell of food made Ismene''s stomach quickly, painfully hungry.


    "Good evening. You should eat," the Hand said.


    Ismene remembered herself and took the tray. "Thank you," she said. She didn''t know how the Hand knew just when to come in, but she was glad of it.


    "It''s nothing," the Hand said. "Do you enjoy visiting here?" they asked.


    Ismene blinked. "Very much," she said. "Thank you for having us. I''m happy to get these chances to visit." The question was a little unusual; so was its source.


    The Hand considered the comment, and nodded. "You can''t stay?"


    "We''re only staying for ten days," Ismene shrugged.


    The Hand nodded. "Enjoy your meal. Good night." They left without another word.


    Ismene wondered if they had meant something by it. The Hand''s visit had been very on the nose; but how had they known?


    That wasn''t something she was going to answer immediately, and she was hungry and sleepy. Ismene took her tray into the bath. The stone tub was full soon, and Ismene took advantage of the wide rim to set her tray right down on it before shucking her robe and slipping into the gloriously hot water.


    She washed up and tucked into the food. Fruit, a slice of meat-and-egg pie, and her favorite: milk-fried bread. At some point, the Hands had figured out that she really liked that village breakfast staple, and it had been included in a lot of her meals since. It made a wonderful late-night snack.


    Well-fed, Ismene washed up again and soaked for a while. Before she could fall asleep in the bath, she fished herself out and got dry. Only then, all clean, with her hair brushed and body soothed of its travels, did she pull back the covers in her bed and get to sleep properly.

 ( ) Ismene, In Ambit

    She did not dream; she remembered.


    A distant now.


    The sky roared and, above Ismene, there was a growing light.


    Her senses told her astonishing things. There was a great path of fire in the west; a track, she amended. A ruined and twisted wake of destruction. At its head was the creature. Around her, there were tiny signs of panic, each a point of light, each fleeing with whatever aid she could give them using her artifice.


    She had broken many self-made rules, and she could not allow that in the future.


    Systemic shutdown within her boundaries would be unavoidable; once she opened up her reserves and laid out a greater fire upon her target, there would be very little that survived within her radius. The land would become dangerous to live in; she would be left alone. It was a small mercy to know that in the time she slept, perhaps the world would forget that she could cause such destruction. Ismene had no desire to encourage, or participate in, war.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    The Voice was determined to stay until the last; Ismene knew that she would perish, and grieved. Within her, the Voice smiled grimly. It is well, she said. All will be well. I won¡¯t leave you. We have to do this.


    West of Ismene, the giant creature seemed to know that something wished it harm. It stared across the open land at her, watching the growing star, the expanding aura of green and gold over the mountains.


    Ismene could feel her circuits opened up to their limit. She was uncertain that it would be enough. Any further, though, and she would be unable to control either the attack, or its effect on what landscape could still be preserved.


    She lashed out with her power¡ª

 4. In the Library

    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¡ªmost-ways through the first container¡ªand 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¡ªa volume of poetry¡ªfor 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."

 In the Library II

    "I think it means that they can''t," Ismene shrugged. "I mean, you''re right. They would, if they could. So there''s got to be something real, that isn''t a fire-tale, that stops them. It might just be that the Assembly doesn''t want to get the temple faction angry, but there might be more. And it is true that visitors who cause trouble are dealt with." She took out a pamphlet on the new worker curfew and unfolded it, placing it flat in the reader.


    "Right. Bad dreams and Hands guarding the halls. That wouldn''t stop an army, though," Eryx mused.


    "I know the Assembly''s complained to the Voice about allowing unpaid access to works, and access to illegal works, but the Library won''t pull anything." Ismene took out the pamphlet and refolded it. "Well. At least, I know I''ve never seen anything stop being accessible, so the Assembly must not be able to force the matter."


    "Hmm," Eryx commented.


    "The Hands are stronger than they look," Ismene said idly. "When they do escort someone out, they''re gentle, but they seem to be up to the job. And they can lift a lot. And they have to have some muscle to get the food supplies up here." Come to think of it, she''d never seen them carting anything through the main entrance. Maybe there were lifts, down the mountains?


    "This place is just too odd," Eryx said.


    Finally, Ismene finished reading items in. "Definitely odd," she agreed. "It''s old, and it really doesn''t feel like it was designed by people. It''s all like a fire-tale. Sometimes I think it is one." She smiled fondly.


    "Haven''t you found its history, or something?" Eryx pressed.


    Ismene thought about it. She''d looked, before. "There''s histories by temple scholars, about how the Library was started. They''re some of the oldest Tyrenian works here. But no, there''s not much from before that."


    "And you trust that?" Eryx asked. "I''d be worried about that. What does the Castle gain by having a library at all, anyway? Since it does, why aren''t there any histories about the library, or the Castle, itself?" Eryx said. "Why is it so rich, and staffed? For you?" she smiled a little, despite the suspicions she was voicing.


    "...I don''t know. But I I love it here," Ismene replied, carefully repacking items. Eryx was making her a little uncomfortable. Was it that Ismene had never actually asked herself some of those questions? Or was it the idea that if she pushed too hard, she risked annoying Harmonia or, worse, insulting the Voice? "If I wasn''t a worker, and if it would have me, I would stay." She locked the case. Finally, if she stuck to it, she could relax about Harmonia and the schedule. "Do you want me to show you around?"


    "I''d like that, yes." Eryx said.


    Walking through the stacks, Ismene showed her the catalog display; a luminous plate which, at a touch, spun through a dizzying array of entries. She demonstrated how to narrow down the books by title or subject or any number of traits. "This is a good place to start, if you''re not sure about the shelving system. Letters, and notebooks, or things that aren''t already on the shelves, things without titles, those are harder to search. You can always ask the Hands for help, and they''ll give it. There''s usually one at the front desk."


    Eryx nodded. Ismene knew how she felt. It was surreal to see, in such an alien form, a clear catalog system; one that lacked drawers, cards, or sorting rods. The sheer volume of entries made the weird display a useful tool. Eryx looked around them, then tapped in a particular title, and grinned in fascination when it obediently came up on screen.


    Ismene noticed her caution; Eryx was conscious of the other visitors. That was good. "There''s a square inlay on the desks in the reading rooms; that''s a catalog, too. All of the reading rooms have them, so you don''t need to be out here in the open to look things up. You touch the corner and it''ll wake up. If you really want to keep someone from seeing it, you can ask for a temporary copy and it''ll turn up in the rack of books by the room''s door."


    Eryx blinked. She looked over to the wall, where a stand filled with a dozen slim volumes stood next to each reading room''s sliding door. The book would simply be there? "That''s... how?"


    They both fell silent as someone walked by.


    Ismene grinned, and picked a book out of the shelves at random. "You know how I said the books were different?" she asked, opening it.


    Eryx nodded and leaned forward, inspecting the book. The cover was rigid and smooth and light; it wasn''t that thick. She opened it. Inside was a single, tough, flexible page.


    "You read it like this." Ismene thought of it as a monopage, but perhaps omnipage was a more correct designation, she thought. She showed Eryx how it worked by flipping it to the next side, then back. The text advanced to the next page, unless Ismene brushed the page in a "back" direction.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    "Oh," Eryx said. "It changes."


    "They stop working if you take them down into the entry hall," Ismene said. "But they work up in our rooms. All the volumes here are like this. It''s just the copies we take home that are on paper. So that''s how it works; the bindings by the rooms are blank, and you can ask them to turn into anything. Keeps me from feeling out of place when I''m looking for something I don''t think someone would like."


    "But the copies you bring back are on paper."


    Ismene nodded. "I submit requests at least four days before we leave, and when we do, they''re ready for us."


    "That''s quick," Eryx muttered. "They can copy them out that fast?" Eryx pictured a room full of Hands with printing presses, running off copies like any Tyrenian print shop. She smiled.


    "They must have a way," Ismene said.


    Eryx hummed, and tapped something into the catalog. She scrolled, and scrolled, and finally looked up. "There''s so much information here. And I don''t need Harmonia''s permission?" she said lowly.


    Ismene shook her head. "Let''s see here," she said. Guiding Eryx into a reading room, she closed the door. "The Library does not care. Just don''t let her see anything too outr¨¦, if you''re worried. And if you don''t want any other visitors casually eavesdropping on you, or reporting back to their people, work in a reading room like this or up in your room."


    "Really?" Eryx asked.


    "It''s not like the House library at home," Ismene said. "Harmonia won''t get a record of what you look at. She mostly assumes we''re being proper. She only gets mad if I make the wrong guesses on what to take home." Even in the private space, Ismene''s voice dropped quieter. "And I do my best to make sure my guesses are decent."


    "And about taking books back," Eryx said.


    Ismene regarded her. She wondered how much of a conversation she could have about that. "Harmonia''s got her list," she said. "I put in an order for the ones I can find, and we take those home, in print."


    Eryx looked levelly up at her. "Yeah. So no one''s ever made it out with one of those magic books?"


    Ismene frowned. "They stop working when you take them too far, I''ve heard," she replied. "But I''d find it insulting to try."


    "Fascinating." Eryx tapped at the book she''d been holding.


    "What are you here to work on?" Ismene said, changing the subject. "I know it''s for the Prytane, but I don''t know much," she said.


    "Hmm." Eryx said. "A question, first. What do you think of how hard it is, to get books in Tyrene?"


    Ismene took a moment to respond. "That''s a hard thing to have a position on," she said. "I''ve been very lucky to be the person Lady Harmonia depends upon when she comes here."


    Eryx nodded. "I suppose you wouldn''t," she said. "It''s a luxury, coming here. It''s a pity more people can''t."


    Ismene looked away. "It''s true," she said. Was Eryx suggesting what she thought Eryx was suggesting? Should she tell Eryx what she did, behind Harmonia''s back? But that wasn''t safe, not really. She tried again. "I''d like to run a library one day," Ismene said. "Not Mellon''s House library, and not a subscription library for House members. One that lends to workers, too. I know I''d have to get a business license myself, and I know Harmonia would already be doing it if she thought it was profitable. I''d still love sharing books with people," she said. "It''s hard for us to get them outside of the House library." They were the business'' property, so trading them wasn''t technically legal. Ismene had done it plenty, but sneaking them around always made her nervous.


    Eryx looked her over. "Can you take a book back from here? On your own, I mean."


    Ismene froze. What should she do? It was a terribly direct question, and she had to wonder. Did Eryx know? Had someone found out? Had Harmonia?


    "I''d be in trouble, if I was discovered doing that," she said, feeling a void grow in her chest. "Harmonia would hand me off to the army or something." The punitive labor pool didn''t appeal to her any more than a factory contract would.


    "You mean you come here twice a year, and you''ve never wanted to sneak anything out yourself?" Eryx asked. Her tone wasn''t accusatory; it was disapproving. Perhaps she really didn''t know, Ismene thought.


    "I wouldn''t dare be caught doing it," Ismene said, trying to sound firm. "I''d lose everything I''ve earned here."


    There was a long, awkward moment while she, and Eryx, looked at each other.


    "I''m trying to look up information on House policies," Eryx finally said. Ismene had the impression that she''d failed some sort of exploratory character test. "The Prytane''s been kind enough to implement a thing or two that I''ve suggested, in the past. They''re the sort of things the Servant''s Guild wants to do, so it took some convincing. You know what I mean. The guaranteed day off, and the better food deals."


    Ismene nodded numbly. She knew. Mellon''s House wasn''t activist, but it had improved conditions for its servants in the past few years. She was a little proud of it.


    "I feel like we could do better," Eryx said. "The hard part is always convincing Mellon to do things that seem, on the surface, like they''re indefensibly expensive or lax. I''m here to get information to support my suggestions. I should get to work," she added. "I think I can start myself. You go ahead and do whatever you need to."


    "Let me know if you need anything," Ismene offered. She felt vaguely like Eryx had found her wanting, but she wasn''t sure. She couldn''t come straight out and admit that she did sneak books home. Ismene had never told anyone apart from the people she gave them to. Eryx seemed like she would understand, but Ismene couldn''t be sure she wouldn''t use the information against Ismene.


    "Sure." Eryx said, opening the reading room door and leaving. Ismene felt like she''d been dismissed, and she left too.


    Maybe she could tell Eryx later.

 5. An Education

    Eryx was going to be spoiled for Mellon''s House library, she reflected to herself, or any other library back home.


    She''d only had a little while to browse, and the Castle''s library was a treasure-trove. The sorts of legal- and House-related tracts that a House kept in its private library were represented here in great quantity. The amount of economic theory in them was absolutely priceless, and Eryx was having a hard time telling herself to keep to the servant rulebooks. She wasn''t a House scion, learning how to manage a future license of her own, but here she could learn like one. No one was here to strike books from a borrow list.


    The reading was giving her a new perspective. Not just on House policies, but on the Servant''s Guild''s ideas, and on what she could propose to the Prytane.


    There was just so much to work with. Budgeting to run the servant end of the household, and the financial interactions between houses, proved fascinating. Then, Tyrenian houses hadn''t always monopolized trade; of course there had been other dynamics, other forces affecting servant benefits. Of course there had been a point in time where they were paid in actual coin, not House-issued tokens. Of course it mattered that the cr¨¨che system and rulebooks had changed a lot in the past few decades.


    Eryx could see it. The things she was thinking of were House-level decisions; even Assembly-level. She understood the Servant''s Guild better now, and why they were so reviled in some quarters. A servant wasn''t supposed to challenge their House, much less deal in business matters without a license.


    But Eryx had been allowed to come here. Prytane Mellon respected her discretion and judgement; Harmonia had left her to her own devices. The books were just books; how could Eryx be doing wrong by making use of them? Ismene had been so paranoid about being seen working with the wrong things.


    Ismene just didn''t have the courage to do anything, Eryx thought. Ismene sat back and did her job, and didn''t try to use the Castle for better. Whatever reason the Castle had for being so reclusive¡ªand Eryx was willing to believe it had good ones, given its reputation and unlikely success at isolation¡ªit didn''t have the right to keep all this information to itself.


    She sat and started taking notes.


    * * *


    Ismene had, as always, been given an eclectic set of items to find for her employer. There was no guarantee that she might find them. If anything, Ismene had to navigate finding books that filled requests which hadn''t been properly defined at all. Harmonia often simply suggested a topic. Alternatively, Ismene might need a work that was quoted elsewhere and might be marketable soley because it no longer survived in Tyrene¡ªon the open market, anyway. The Castle, despite the cost of the permit, was cheaper than hunting down things that might be squirreled away in someone else''s private library, or no longer existed at all.


    Sometimes a book was requested by name, and in that case, Ismene might find it easily. Sometimes she had to search out the source of a specific quote, or work from a general knowledge of the contents. She''d gotten good at that, and when she was at her wits'' end, the Hands usually helped her out.


    What she never told Harmonia was how long it would take. That was an old trick. Always let someone think the task takes twice as long; then you''re the one who is working miracles when the task has to be hurried. It had saved her more times than she could count. At the Library, it meant that she could look not just for Harmonia''s books, but books of her own. Harmonia thought Ismene was just going about her legitimate work.


    It was startlingly easy to hide books in the shipment they took home. Harmonia never rummaged much through the actual cases herself; that was servants'' work. The border guards never did more than glance at a volume or two; it was after all the luggage of a Prytane''s family member. They looked in the actual clothes satchels for hidden books, but that was about it.


    Ismene was careful. She didn''t keep questionable books long off the shelves, and she always made sure to clear the volumes before putting them aside. She kept her selections few, and her packing arrangements just-so, and¡ªshe''d never gotten caught.


    It wasn''t ambitious, her smuggling. Only a few books every trip. Ismene didn''t think there was really that much wrong with it. Harmonia herself got books that weren''t legal in Tyrene, after all; those went into Mellon''s private library, and Ismene never saw them again. Why not do that herself? The rules clearly didn''t mean that much.


    So while she worked, Ismene considered some books as potential smuggling candidates. There was one book that she thought she''d suggest to Harmonia for general publication, but if not, she would take it anyway. It was a mostly illustrated story from around fifty years ago, depicting a farm over the course of a year.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    It might not get approved. Times had changed. The farm servants didn''t have to get anyone''s signoff when they used the land. They kept some of their products for home use without any mention of a forfeit to their House, and they even sold the extra produce themselves. No House member acted as transactor or handled the coin.


    It definitely didn''t take place in Tyrene at all, though. They could get away with something with fantastical elements if it wasn''t set in Tyrene. And it looked simple; soft. She could pitch it as a story about hard work over the cycle of seasons. Ismene thought Harmonia might actually take a shine to it without needing to sneak it by.


    The rest of her smuggling candidates were far less palatable.


    Some of them were specific requests from the guildspeople Ismene handed her books off to, and the reasons were obvious. One title was from the north; the northern countries had a history of labor-oriented councils and former monarchies. The legal questions there weren''t so much about business ownership, as Ismene saw it, but who had cash or organizational skill¡ªand anyone there could get paid in universal cash instead of House tokens, so anyone could pay anyone else for things¡ªor work. The entire foundation of the essay was seditious, and attractive.


    Another was Tyrenian, from a time before the House-worker responsibility laws were enshrined. Those could never get stamped for publication. Another was an illustrated medical book. Usually Ismene didn''t deal with those; the workers who took them for her usually sent things off to be copied manually, so a detailed set of images wasn''t as useful. It was large, too, and would be a little more dangerous to smuggle. But she''d been asked for it, and in it would go. A particular novel went in as well; she knew Evo had been asking after it.


    The rest were tedious sets of business records. Usually Ismene''s requests were instructional, academic; things that might be used in a temple school or to help improve dorm life. Lately, however, she''d been asked for a range of specific documents. They were long, outdated accounts of river traffic and commerce, of coin outlays for dorm expenses, of servant contract benefits and disciplinary measures. They were also the sorts of things that a House might trade for Library access, under the understandable assumption that the Assembly regulated who could visit. Ismene certainly wasn''t supposed to be taking them back for unauthorized purposes.


    Maybe, Ismene thought, it had something to do with what Eryx was doing. The way houses kept their servants was becoming a contentious issue. The barge workers had threatened to strike repeatedly in the past few years, and they''d been put down by the military more than once. Someone out there wanted to know what servant life had been like historically, and what houses really did to keep their servants working. If that someone wasn''t backed by an employing House, and consequently couldn''t get a scholar''s permit to come get the information themselves, Ismene thought it couldn''t hurt to help them out.


    She supposed that she, herself, wished that things could be different; but if that meant ''better for the other servants too'', that was probably okay.


    Ismene had also been given a request for a specific, decades-old chemical recipe book. She wondered who had asked for it, but Ismene didn''t ask any questions. Sure, someone could disrupt a lot of work or cause a lot of mayhem with that sort of an education. But, Ismene thought, that was nothing an employer couldn''t buy for their House''s own library.


    She was just levelling the playing field. And books like that also helped people understand the threats of the substances they worked with. There were probably people who would be safer because of it.


    When Ismene had her selections, she submitted the smuggle list to the front desk. "I''ll take a copy each of these," Ismene said to the Hand at the front. "Please release the list of their titles and the physical copies themselves to myself only." Ismene had no interest in, say, Harmonia accidentally learning about her doings.


    She''d stumbled upon the necessity for careful wording years ago. Two sponsored scholars had stayed at the Castle once, when she was there. One had picked up the copies for his companion, and beaten them to the completion of their work. Their employer had given him the credit, allowing him to apply for employer status and keeping the other on worker''s contract. She had inquired later, and discovered that the Castle, given no other instructions and knowing they''d traveled together, had simply given the books up. After that, she was more careful.


    "It is late," the Hand at the desk said. "Will you sleep?"


    Ismene blinked. She did plan on forging ahead with looking up more proper withdrawals before she went up. But it was getting on in hours, and her legs were sore.


    Harmonia wouldn''t know if she hadn''t finished the deliveries that night. Ismene could get away with doing that tomorrow.


    "You''re right, it is. Thank you for reminding me," she said to the Hand. They only nodded, but Ismene was warmed by the consideration.


    On her way out, Ismene decided to yield to the call of the stacks. She might be cautious about what Harmonia saw her doing, but she could get away with some light reading. It was a perk that surprised no one; Ismene loved books, and she didn''t rate a private library subscription in her job ranking.


    She didn''t spend long browsing; the stacks were long, but Ismene knew where to look for the sort of things she wanted. She selected an old adventure novel that caught her eye, and headed back to the front desk. "May I have this for tonight?"


    The librarian Hand nodded, and tapped the spine briefly with their index finger. "It is yours for your stay," the Hand replied. "Have a pleasant evening." Both wishes were recited in the same formulaic tonelessness.


    "Thank you! Have a good night," Ismene said, and went on her way. By now, it was full dark; the Castle''s tower star shone down through the grand hall''s skylights.

 An Education II

    Eryx was carrying an armful of slim volumes back to her reading room when Harmonia walked up to her, led by a Hand.


    Unlike the linen or cotton her servants wore, Harmonia''s robes were a deep, patterned-weave House-red silk over pale undergarments. Her hair was pinned up in intricate braids (Eryx wondered if she''d asked the Hands to do that for her) and her House pin gleamed on her shoulder.


    I''m surprised she needs a guide, Eryx thought. Is it so that she looks like she has an escort? Maybe it''s a status thing.


    "How are we doing?" she asked Eryx. Eryx saw her eyes flicker to Eryx¡¯s worker-blue robe, but Harmonia didn¡¯t comment.


    "Very well," Eryx replied. "Honestly, I''m overwhelmed with the resources here." She smiled and indicated the books she was carrying. "Want to join me?"


    "I''ll take a look." Before Eryx could do anything, Harmonia walked into the reading cubicle ahead of Eryx, and started sorting through her reading material.


    The moment stretched on. Surely there wasn''t a problem, Eryx thought. The works here were purely academic. It wasn''t like she was¡ª


    "What did I send you here for?" Harmonia asked casually, still flipping through books.


    "To catalog village and pre-factorial manners of worker compensation and benefits," Eryx supplied instantly. "To propose methods of worker management that result in happier worker populations, a better House reputation, and more profitable outcomes for Prytane Mellon."


    Harmonia pulled aside Recent Developments in Tyrenian Legislation and The Token Economy, then set a volume in its own. "And what is this?"


    The cover read Who Walks In Jera?. Eryx didn''t rise to Harmonia''s arch tone. After all; she had a reason. "Jera used to have a citywide cr¨¨che, unlike the House cr¨¨ches today. Theirs was village-style, separate from¡ª"


    "How does a trash book like this give you information on that?"


    "It''s¡ªit helps illustrate what the experience was like from someone who lived there," Eryx explained. "It can help illustrate the positive experience of a system¡ª


    "If there are benefits, then you can read about it in something respectable," Harmonia interrupted.


    "...of course," Eryx said. "But a financial report won''t necessarily cover that sort of experience..."


    "And this?" Minutes of the Jeran City Servant''s Guild joined the poetry book.


    "This helps provide the financial information."


    "Servants'' Guilds? How do you presume to tell me this provides information useful to a proper House?"


    "The worker satisfaction¡ª"


    "I do not care about scheming malcontents!" Harmonia rasped. "What are you doing with the time I am giving you here?"


    "...Bettering my work, and bettering myself," Eryx said. The words came unbidden, quoted directly from her Temple professor''s tomes.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Harmonia looked at her for a moment. ¡°You do sound like a priest.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°That was not a compliment,¡± she specified crisply. ¡°How dare you? Who do you think you are, talking to me like that? Bettering yourself? With this?¡±


    ¡°Well yes, it enlarges my a-¡±


    ¡°I am speaking!¡± Harmonia fumed. If Eryx thought her sponsor was angry before, she''d really stepped in it now. ¡°How dare you speak of bettering yourself when you can''t even meet the most basic of responsibilities? How dare you quote religion at me? I am the one responsible for your wellbeing, and for fifty other workers! Do not twist sacred texts to justify your behavior as beneficial!¡±


    She waited, and Eryx fished blankly for words.


    ¡°Well? You''re displaying a shocking level of irresponsibility. Must I watch you while you work? Will you do your job, or shall I send you back?¡±


    Eryx blinked. Would she really? "Your father wouldn''t want me to come back without¡ª"


    Harmonia slammed her palm down on the books. "Don''t cite my father''s authority to me."


    She waited, and Eryx decided to take another avenue. "Yes, Lady Harmonia. I was concerned with getting results for my assignment, I didn''t mean to be rude."


    "Well? Are you going to behave?"


    ¡°...yes, ma''am, I''ll behave.¡±


    "Don''t sulk. If you know what these books are, and you think they''re acceptable? You''re either stupid, and I don''t think you''re stupid, or actively trying to do something underhanded," Harmonia said. She turned back to the stack and gathered up most of the books. "You are here to look up servant policies. There are perfectly good rulebooks and ledgers here. You have no license to justify reading business theory, nor permission to read servant trash. If you think you have a need for the former, you will apply to me."


    "I''m... sorry," Eryx said. She genuinely did not understand Harmonia''s problem with a lot of the books Harmonia was so agitated about. Wasn''t her entire purpose to advise Mellon? To suggest matters of policy that were already at the level of business management?


    Suddenly, she understood Ismene''s caution more. Ismene had been navigating this blade''s-edge for a while.


    "Don''t prevaricate. I don''t want to see you reading any more radical writing, or anything out of the scope of your job." Harmonia grasped the stack of books tightly. "I allowed you to come here because it was the easiest way to get access to other houses'' records, not so you could read these," she jerked her chin down at the stack she held, "or inflammatory... junk that dissatisfied servants wrote. Can I trust you do that?"


    "Yes, Lady Harmonia."


    "Can I expect better from you?"


    "...yes, Lady Harmonia."


    "In a couple of days, I''ll invite you to my quarters for dinner. I can hear your report, and your suggestions for this House, then." Harmonia ordered.


    "Of course," Eryx replied, too disconcerted and humiliated for her anger to break through. "If that''s convenient for you. Thank you." What if that was really what Mellon thought, too? She''d thought he valued her efforts more.


    "That''s better. When we return, I shall have Father say a prayer for your humility. And show some pride in your House," Harmonia said, indicating Eryx''s robe. "You''re not a guild member." She left as abruptly as she had arrived, carrying the stack of confiscated books with her.


    Eryx took a moment to calm her nerves, and to think. What was Harmonia''s problem? The guild minutes had been full of troubles, yes, but those troubles only gave Eryx evidence of policies that could be improved. The daily concerns of a worker, especially those Eryx had been reading about, weren''t inflammatory or inappropriate at all. She''s picked them out for that reason.


    But that wasn''t the problem, was it? It was that workers had written about them at all. Had met, and spoken, and discussed as a union of equals. She hadn''t wanted to believed it, had expected to find grace in the mind of someone whose power affected her own life, but there was none.


    Harmonia would not stand for the idea that a worker could have a say.


    Reaching beyond her position, was she? Eryx''s entire purpose was, however she could, to shift the meaning of what a worker''s place was. Ensure that the House contracts were fair, that workers could share in the prosperity they created. There wasn''t anything wrong with that. Workers'' contracts, workers'' lives had become such small, inescapably poor, things. Eryx knew that had not always been the case in Tyrene. Even if it had been, she thought, she should still work to make their position better.


    Harmonia could hem and scold all she liked. Eryx didn''t care if what she wanted was disrespectful. She''d still work for it.


    And she''d still wear blue.