《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?The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    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.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    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."You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "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.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    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.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    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.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding 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 tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    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 story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "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.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    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.Stolen novel; please report.


    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.

 6. Truth

    There was a knock at her cubicle door. Ismene slid it aside to find Eryx, carrying a couple of books.


    "I have something I want to ask you," Eryx said.


    "All right," Ismene replied, and beckoned her to come into the tiny room.


    Eryx slid the door closed behind them. "I want to sneak these back into Tyrene."


    Ismene looked at the books, and then Eryx.


    "Don''t tell Harmonia. You can say no, and I''ll forget about it," Eryx said.


    "That''s not it," Ismene said. "It''s... I don''t know where to start. Why do you want me to do this?"


    "...You were right," Eryx said. "I didn''t really believe it. They''re just books; I understand that workers don''t get representation in the Assembly, but I didn''t think that I was doing anything really wrong. That Harmonia would have so much of a problem with me reading about law. Or the guild."


    "Did she get mad at you?" Ismene asked.


    "Mad enough. I''m going to have to watch myself from now on, I think," Eryx said. "But I don''t have to like it."


    Ismene nodded. "Oh, good." The Library wouldn''t care if Harmonia had a problem with Eryx, but she had to go back home with them, and Ismene didn''t want to see Eryx face consequences later.


    "I just can''t believe she''s so blind. She told me to stick to my assignment! As if there''s not piles of essays here about how Tyrene handles its workers. Or records by those workers. There''s this whole library, and all she thinks is how it''s not okay for a worker to read about the things we''re already living with," Eryx said. "I thought... I thought that because I''d been allowed to come here, they thought I could be trusted not to work against their interests."


    "I don''t think they ever really trust us," Ismene said. "That''s why I''m so careful." She hadn''t said it aloud before. Maybe there was something in Eryx''s earlier condemnation. Maybe she had been complacent. "I mean, we''re always going to be workers. I know I said I want a library, but...," she sighed. What Eryx said sounded frustratingly true. Their interests would always be against the interests of people like Mellon and Harmonia.


    "So. Harmonia thinks I''m reading outside of my place as a servant," Eryx said. "I''m asking you to do this, because I know you said you respect what I''ve done in the House. And it was my idea; the day off policies. Some of the token rules. The cafeteria quality. Mellon gets the credit, but it was me. I call myself a scholar, but I want to start doing something more."


    Ismene nodded.


    "If I can''t get this stuff past Harmonia, I can get the idea out there other ways. These are old Assembly speeches. I bet there are copies of things like this in the House''s private library, but I''m sure I''d never get to see them. They''re from back before the responsibility laws, when workers earned real money. I want to show them to workers in the House. I mean, the speeches were fine then. Even the Assembly thought so. You know I''ve worked for your benefit before. I know you''re nervous, but I think you can help make that happen."


    "I already do," Ismene said. There, she though. I''ve said it. Eryx will know.


    "You what?" Eryx asked. Her entire pitch shopped abruptly.


    "Take books back. Harmonia doesn''t know about them," Ismene said, her voice hushed despite the private room. "There''s a few guild members in the House. They request things, take them for me, I don''t know. There are underground presses somewhere." She smiled, despite the nerves she felt. "I don''t know if I''ll ever have my library. But I can do this," she said.


    Eryx opened her mouth, then closed it.


    "I''ll get these," Ismene said, holding up her hand. Eryx gave her the books and Ismene jotted down their titles, then cleared them. Harmonia wouldn''t ever know.


    "I''m sorry," Eryx said.


    "For what?" Ismene asked.


    "Misjudging you," Eryx admitted. "I saw all this," her gesture took in the room, "and I thought you were happy to let it stay here, where nobody could do anything with it."


    Ismene shrugged. "It isn''t like I can talk about sneaking illegal books back. I didn''t know if you''d tell Harmonia." She still didn''t. It was hard to read people. What if Eryx decided to earn some favor, and turn her in? Should she have said anything at all? "If she finds out now, it''s both our contracts," Ismene said.


    Fortunately, Eryx didn''t seem to take it as a threat. "Together, then. So. Do you want to see what I''m working on?"The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Ismene nodded. "I''d be honored."


    Eryx took a moment to shuffle her notes around. Ismene noticed a whole sheaf that had been already marked up, with notes in a graceful hand unlike the rest of the writing.


    "All right. Well. You''re familiar with the responsibility laws." Eryx began. "The business families are like the classical Imperial nobility, in a way. It''s not that their land and concessions are given to them by a central Emperor, but they are the ones that own the land and they are held responsible for the well-being of those in their employ.


    "It''s not that we can''t be business owners. We can buy licenses. We can cancel our contracts."


    Ismene shuddered. Eryx sighed.


    "And that''s exactly the problem," Eryx replied, referring to her reaction. "You can''t really cancel. It''s not legal to be a vagrant. You risk getting impressed into the labor pool for the army. And a business license takes real currency, so it''s not really likely you''ll buy one yourself. If you weren''t in a House from birth, or you haven''t convinced a House to fund a license for you, you''re a servant."


    "And we only earn House tokens," Ismene said.


    "As long as most of us are servants on contract, we''re trapped," Eryx said. "It''s legal, but... well, I wanted it to change.


    "I wasn''t willing to go full guildsman. I saw what happened to my predecessor. He got tossed out out of hand." Eryx frowned. "He joined up with the guild offices back in Dryas¡ªyou know, the ones on temple grounds. And that''s wonderful, but I wanted to try to get Mellon to implement something. You can say that I''m not doing enough, or that it''s useless to try working in the House, but that''s what I''m trying to do.


    "I had a long correspondence with the Prytane about the leisure day policy. It wasn''t that long ago that the right to have work was the big issue; what with all the factories, we don''t need workers like we used to. Thirty years ago it looked like half of Tyrene was going to be on the streets, with none of the old guild or creche systems having any support, and no one taking in apprentices to train them anymore. The villages were a lot better off, but that was because they held to their organizational systems longer. People actually blocked off streets in Dryas to demand work back then.


    "But it makes sense to have days off now. We''re not machines, and Mellon wanted a way to keep us happier. The rest, you remember. We tried it out, staggered the day off among the workers, and everyone loved it. well, everyone who didn''t think we were lazy."


    Ismene nodded. She remembered the complaints; a guaranteed day off meant a guaranteed day without tokens, and the workers who really wanted to put in effort were a bit miffed. She''d liked it, though. She thought that most of the people who complained were servants who already had days off as part of their position. Having a day to relax meant that she had something to look forward to in the schedule. It gave her something to pace her time with better. Overall, she felt like it had improved the job for everyone.


    "And that''s what I''ve been doing. The food was a health initiative. But what I''d really like..." Eryx pulled out one page. "We should get real currency."


    It was a lovely thought, Ismene thought. "But why would a House do that? They''d be giving away their profits."


    "Aren''t we making their profits for them?" Eryx asked.


    "Yes, but..."


    "Yes, and it''s crazy, I know. I''m not going to ask Mellon to give us gold, he''d throw me out too. But... I want to do something," Eryx said. "And this is exactly the territory Harmonia wanted me off of, so don''t tell her."


    "You have my word," Ismene said. "On the Castle."


    Eryx grinned at her, and accepted the terms. "If we earned at least a little of our pay in currency, instead of tokens, we''d establish a whole other facet to the economy. Workers could patronize offices that didn''t have arrangements with their House. I don''t know how much difference that would make in the short term; it wouldn''t be much of our pay. We wouldn''t be disrupting dorm agreements anytime soon. But we might do other things. Go eat somewhere else. Get a robe that isn''t House issue. Save up for things."


    "Save up for licenses," Ismene said, without thinking. She looked over at Eryx to see her reaction.


    "It''s not impossible," Eryx said. "And in the long term, that might be true. It won''t make a difference in a lot of ways. We probably wouldn''t be able to hire servants of our own. I don''t think it would be legal for us to buy products sold for license-holders, even if we had the cash. The same goes for travel permits." She shrugged. "The Assembly would have to rewrite the laws for a lot of things. They fundamentally give House runners the authority, because the workers are their responsibility. It used to work, I guess, but I think we can handle being free agents."


    It was a little scary, in some ways, but Ismene thought she was right. Having a place to live, having a reliable job, all of that was because of the House system. Losing that security¡ªand Ismene absolutely believed that some houses would immediately wipe their hands of a lot of responsibilities, given the chance¡ªseemed dangerous. But Eryx had a vision of a Tyrene where the law did take that into account.


    "You want Mellon to do more, but it would be better if the Assembly did this," Ismene said.


    "Oh, I wish Harmonia could hear that," Eryx crowed. Ismene tensed. "No, no, I don''t mean¡ª I mean she was so indignant, and here you are, immediately understanding why this is a political matter," Eryx said. "It has to be, in the end. It should be."


    "I wonder if they''d ever do it," Ismene said.


    "I don''t know. But I can start in this House, like I always have. I''m going to start a guild cell when I get back," Eryx said.


    "Join it. We already have one," Ismene said.


    Eryx blinked. "I''m in regular correspondence with the city guild offices, but in the House...?"


    That surprised Ismene. She expected Eryx to be the sort of person who would already know about social goings-on in the House. But then again, Eryx had been a scholar, not a working servant. She hadn''t realized that might be the sort of difference that caused a gap... or mistrust. "I only know because, well, of the books I get for them," she said. "I stay out of the meetings because that way, Harmonia thinks I''m well-behaved." She grimaced. "She knows there are guild believers, in a vague way, just no particulars. But I know who to refer you to. I''ll introduce you," she promised.


    Eryx nodded. "I''d like that."


    There was a moment where neither of them had more to say. Ismene surveyed her work space. "You said Harmonia found you working with things?"


    "Yes," Eryx replied.


    "Let me show you how to erase a book. They just display it, so it''s not like you''re destroying the actual text..."

 Truth II

    The day had gone on far longer than Ismene planned. She''d spent hours talking with Eryx, and then, conspiring on how to keep Harmonia happy. Finally, she made it up to her room with another novel.


    Ismene turned the lever-shaped handle, and the door opened for her. Inside, in front of the great window, a Hand was just placing a covered dish on a central table. They turned to her.


    "May I help you with anything else?" they asked.


    "No, thank you." Ismene said. "You brought me dinner again?" she asked.


    "Of course," the Hand said. They stayed where they were. "Is it sufficient?"


    Ismene winced. "Of course! I''m sorry, I just¡ªusually we''re supposed to ask, and this is the second time¡ª" She caught her breath and reined in her anxiety. "Thank you. You always give us very good hospitality. I''m grateful for it. It must be a lot of work, and I''m thankful," she said.


    "We enjoy having company," the Hand said blankly.


    "You, the Hands?" Ismene said, curious. She was beginning to think that something was different this visit. The Hands were never so... solicitous. Helpful? Interested, perhaps.


    "We all do," the Hand stated. "We enjoy company. Please, eat." They did not exit, as they usually did. The Hand stood there.


    "All right," Ismene said, settling uncertainly onto the closest couch. Uncovering the dish, she found that it was an excellent stew, hot and meaty. Around it they''d placed other dainties and a chilled drink. "Would you like to¡ª"


    The Hand was gone. She hadn''t heard the door, but she had looked away for a moment.


    Ismene thought about it for as long as she reasonably could, and sighed. "I''d share the meal with you if you wanted," she said to the air.


    There was no response. She felt a little silly for trying.


    All the same, she was getting ravenous. The stew smelled delicious. She ate, feeling the warmth in her stomach, and appreciating the hearty flavor. By the time Ismene was done, she decided that she could accept the strangeness and let herself relax. She laid back in a hot bath, and soaked, reading until she felt tired enough to sleep.


    Maybe she did like the extra attention, after all, she thought as she settled into bed.


    * * *


    The next day, a few minutes before the sixth hour, Ismene knocked on Lady Harmonia''s door.


    "Come in," she heard, and the door pivoted freely under her hand. Ismene stepped in and found Harmonia laying back with a tray of some fruit delicacy and a book in front of her.


    "I''ve got your list, Lady Harmonia," she stated. "I''ve found nearly everything this time."


    "Very well. First, I want you to tell me about Eryx," Harmonia said.


    Ismene ignored the feeling in her stomach and got on with it. She described Eryx''s project, as far as she intended to, going just over and under Harmonia''s probable level of acceptance to make it plausible. Would her observations, cooked up as they were, be enough? Was Harmonia going to see through her lack of genuine compliance? "I''ve got the list here; it includes her requested checkouts so far. She''s taking a lot of notes, but she''s been sticking to House circulars and rulebooks," Ismene said.


    Harmonia looked over the list. "All right," she echoed sternly. Did she really know all of them, or would she be looking up the titles later? Ismene didn''t know. Maybe she wouldn''t at all. "Has she started wearing a decent robe?"


    Ismene didn''t have a good answer for that. "Ah, still blue, I''m afraid."


    "She needs to stop acting out," Harmonia said. "Do you think she''s going to try taking her work to another House? Try to cut a deal for something?"


    Harmonia''s question took Ismene entirely off guard. What was that about? Where was Harmonia coming from? Ismene scrambled to think about it.


    "I think she believes in her work," Ismene sallied faintly, "and is grateful for your father''s help." She could tell Harmonia thought Ismene was just buttering her up. "No, it''s true," she protested. And this time, she meant it. "No House would have given her this chance but him and you," Ismene argued. "Do you¡ªI''m sorry," she paused. "Lady Harmonia, if I may; it''s a scary place out there. The world is scary, if you lose your servant''s contract. No one wants a worker who has already been thrown out for being trouble." She didn''t say that the military would happily take them for labor; nor the factories. "Eryx owes you a lot. She could be in so much worse of a position. She won''t try to sell out to another House."


    She could have said that the good of other Tyrenians wasn''t a matter of any one House; but Ismene did not.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    "You''re a nice person, Ismene," Harmonia said. It was a compliment, but Ismene wasn''t sure she agreed. Harmonia meant that she was a good worker. Ismene didn''t know if she could be a good worker and a good person. "I hope Eryx is as good a person as you seem to believe. You might advise her to have a better attitude."


    And she was helping Eryx flout the rules. Ismene wasn''t planning on doing anything differently for knowing that, but she still had to bear the knowing. Once she would have called it guilt. Now she thought it felt right. "I''ll keep keeping an eye on her, Lady Harmonia. I''ve got the books she''d like, but of course we''ll only take them if you agree to it."


    "Maybe." Harmonia said. "So. About my books."


    Ismene handed her the list, relieved. Harmonia took it, cleared a space on the central table, and started to look through it. "A pen, please." Ismene knew what to expect, and had one with her. Harmonia began checking things off.


    "What''s this?" Harmonia asked, pointing at a history book in the series of maybes that Ismene had put at the bottom.


    "I haven''t been able to find much in Tyrenian about the Apion State from that era," Ismene admitted. "I''ve listed the translated works on file, but they''re not very relevant, and our own people don''t seem to have been very welcome."


    "Hmm," Harmonia sighed. The Castle did not translate works for its patrons. Ismene had picked up a great many words in a great many alphabets, and she did what she could when it came to finding texts that could be translated once she and Harmonia took them back. Harmonia herself, however, could read various languages. "I''ll see what I can find," Harmonia pronounced, making a note elsewhere. She continued, pausing on a line. "And this?"


    Ismene read the title. "That''s a special request from Tellon. Prytane Thelusander''s son?" she said. It was a dry little treatise about industrial efficiency. They would not sell copies of that book on the market, even if it were Assembly-approved for it. The designs were too valuable. Harmonia''s shop would make two copies; one for Prytane Mellon to keep, and one to ship to Thelusander. She would pay Mellon handsomely for the copy.


    Somehow, Harmonia never seemed to find a problem with Ismene looking up all these things. Ismene found it a little hypocritical that she''d come down on Eryx so hard.


    "Right." Harmonia checked it off and kept going. She asked questions here and there, but almost always approved everything. Ismene had gotten very effective at finding useful works, even for the general requests. Mostly, Harmonia only questioned things because she''d forgotten what the item was.


    She did mark off one; a manual on gem-cutting that had some very lovely illustrations. "This isn''t coming," she said of the request. "He''s been rude to Father." It wasn''t the first time personal drama had caused someone''s business to be denied, and Ismene didn''t bother debating such things. It was employer business, anyway. Yes, being denied information might cost someone in trade, but it wasn''t like an employer would suffer from a mere loss of profit.


    The lists of common-edition books were what Ismene saved her breath for. It was true, the border guard would have their say in what got past the gates, and Harmonia''s father would vet them a further time. Ismene couldn''t do anything about that. She could at least try to make sure Harmonia let worthwhile books come back as far as the border. Once in print, a book might make it into the dorm section of a House library, and that was enough.


    Harmonia''s vetting of those, however, was down to long habit. She read Ismene''s summaries, left marks by the few she immediately deemed worthy, and sat back. "The rest; explain why you want them."


    Naturally, any instructional texts were among the questionables. Ismene went through each book, story by story or topic by topic, and explained to Lady Harmonia why she thought they might be worthy of publication. Harmonia checked about half of those, then, leaving Ismene with a final set of approvals.


    Harmonia looked out her window, this one with a surreal view of the forests across the Castle''s cliff, and sat back. "Pick out some better casual reading for store stock. I want things with better taste. Poetry has been in fashion lately and I''m sure there are some old poems down there that will sell. I''ll check them tomorrow. And Ismene?" she said. "When you''ve done that, you can relax a little."


    The interview was over. "Thank you, ma''am." Ismene packed up her sheets and left.


    Her room was safety.


    Appreciating the near-complete silence, Ismene sighed. "I love this place," she said to the Castle. "I love it, and I''m constantly breaking the rules. And I know you don''t care about those rules, but if I ever mess up, I''m never going to get to come back."


    Things had gone as well as they could. Harmonia had approved Ismene''s farm story after all; she''d also let pass a tome about animal husbandry that Ismene thought might update their current material. She knew the villages knew husbandry best, but not everyone had a good budget, and not all House libraries were well-stocked. Someone somewhere might benefit.


    As for the rejected titles, well, that was business. Ismene would smuggle her choices, the other books, back as she always had.


    Would she always get away with it? Would Harmonia find out, and throw her out of her House? Would someone like Eryx change things enough that Ismene didn''t have to worry about that? Could the guild?


    "I wish I could just run my library," she said to the air.


    She drew another bath, and this time, she lay there until she nearly fell asleep.


    In that hazy space between sleep and comfort, Ismene thought she heard someone come into the room. It wasn''t unusual for other workers to pass through the baths at home, so she didn''t think twice about it.


    When she suddenly woke up, with night nearly fallen, Ismene realized she was quite alone.


    She should be unnerved, she thought. The Castle was very haunted, and Eryx would probably be afraid of the experience. Ismene just felt... "Like I''m home," she said. That was a nice idea, generally. Evo, in the bookshop, had recently asked her if she wanted to use her family-time allowance to help them foster Evo''s children in the House cr¨¨che. Another one of the printers was with Evo in a more permanent arrangement, and Ismene liked the idea of a stable relationship, but she wasn''t sure about one oriented around children. She certainly didn''t want to help manage the gaggle of House children. Her mother and father had spent most of their time in the village cr¨¨che when Ismene herself was young, and she couldn''t see herself spending much of any time doing that sort of work.


    She might just remain alone her whole life; but Ismene didn''t want that, either. The lack of prospects for her library would be easier if she had someone to spend time with. Not necessarily intimately; she was only passingly interested in sex. But Ismene liked the idea of being able to trust someone. She was just not very good at finding people who she wanted to relax with, or who would pick her to relax with.


    And besides; if she did ever get caught smuggling, Ismene wouldn''t be able to have a relationship with anyone, most likely.


    "I wish I could stay with you," she said to the room. The Castle was an unaccountable exception to everything. Oh well. It was silly to think that, if Ismene didn''t mean anything special to someone normal like Evo, she could mean anything special to someone as remarkable as the Voice.

 6. Ismene and the Voice

    The morning was overcast, and Ismene watched snowflakes start to sift down out of the sky before she headed down for the day.


    Things seemed to be going all right with Eryx, but Ismene wouldn''t be sanguine about the situation until they were back home. She''d helped select the fake checkout list to present to Harmonia, and Eryx had a carefully censored set of notes, but if her real notes got discovered, they would both be in trouble. It was strange how she felt reasonably comfortable with her own clandestine doings, but the new situation was scarier despite being smaller in scope. But it was new, Ismene thought, so of course it seemed like a greater threat.


    By the time Harmonia came down to check on her, Ismene was satisfied at being able to present an updated list of books.


    "Good," Harmonia said. "What else do you have do to for me?"


    "Poetry, and reading up on Northern novels," Ismene replied. It was even true, for the time she meant to spend on those topics.


    "Very well," Harmonia dismissed her. Once she was done those, Ismene was free to do the research she really wanted.


    Eryx had reminded Ismene that there were many things she didn''t know about the Castle. She hadn''t gone looking for Library materials about it for a while, and decided to see what she could do.


    The legends were simple enough. In the day of the western Empire, the Castle lands had been inhabited; at the time, it was a strange and wonderful place. When the Empire fell, when a mythical monster came from the ocean and destroyed it, the Castle had been destroyed too. After that, it had become a strange but haunted place. Of course, while the monster was probably myth, the Empire really had fallen apart, and the castle lands really were deserted.


    Browsing wasn''t much use. The browsing stacks were ample, but they held a limited number of volumes. That resulted in a selection biased heavily towards whoever might be doing research at the time and whatever books were recently submitted to the Library. That was useful for Ismene when it came to Tyrenian records, since Tyrenians were overrepresented in the visitor rolls, but not when it came to anything else.


    Next, then, the catalog. The history section itself was sparse; yes, books began to appear after the point in time when the Temple''s first Castle expedition took place, but Ismene had a hard time finding anything about the Castle itself. There were recent results in Tyrenian; but only observation and speculation. There did exist Tyrenian scholars who dug up ancient sites and documented them; but they did not travel to Castle lands to do so. The Assembly didn''t seem interested in issuing permits, and Ismene had no idea if the Voice would even allow it.


    She started to try other items, systematically keeping notes. Trade, perhaps. Traveller''s accounts. All old things, published before the modern Assembly''s rules; but despite that openness, it wasn''t much use. Perhaps histories of the Empire''s collapse? Those weren''t much help either. They had works from the west, and translations, but most were from before the downfall. The collapse had been rapid and the histories were uncertain and speculative about it. Meanwhile, the modern stories about the Monster were heavy on creativity and light on consistent details.


    Ismene decided to ask for some help.


    "Good afternoon. I''d like to look for something." Ismene approached the Hand on duty.


    "What is your query?" the Hand asked, a finger resting on the crystal that always sat on their desk.


    "History of the Castle, please," Ismene told them.


    But, for all she tried various criteria, everything Ismene could find was speculative or legendary. She was starting to wonder if the Castle''s history was really so obscure, or if something else was at play. Was her conception of its origins wrong somehow? Or was the Library really incomplete, and on purpose? She knew what Eryx would suggest.


    "All right; let me try something else," Ismene said. Maybe the merchant states up north had something; surely their traders kept records. "Can I get a trade-to-Tyrenian dictionary?"The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "You are very curious tonight," the Hand volunteered.


    They usually didn''t comment on her searches. "Is, is that all right?" Ismene asked.


    "You may query," the Hand replied enigmatically.


    Dictionary in hand, Ismene retired to a reading room for a few hours. It was time-consuming, and once she had a list of terms she wanted, she tried again. Castle. Abandoned. Cultures of the continent. Southern trade.


    When she heard a knock at the reading room''s door, Ismene was jarred back into the here-and-now. Was it Harmonia? Would her research get her a scolding again? She could never tell¡ª


    "Come in," Ismene said, before she waited too long. But it wasn''t Harmonia. It was the Voice.


    Tallish, lanky, and veiled, they nodded to her. ¡°Good evening, Ismene, servant of Harmonia.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Voice,¡± she said, disconcerted. Was it evening already? Again with time... but she had only herself to blame for her distraction.


    ¡°You have unusual requests this evening.¡± The Voice commented, with a thankfully affable tone. As affable as the Voice could get, anyway, with their flat manner.


    Ismene looked past them briefly; she didn¡¯t want to start any rumors by being seen in conversation with the Voice, but thankfully no one was in her end of the Library. It had emptied out. ¡°I apologize if I¡¯m asking impertinent questions,¡± she said. ¡°I am curious about your history; but it seems as if you may not wish to tell me about the Castle''s past.¡± Suddenly, she realized that she might have stumbled upon an unwanted truth. Was it the Voice making such decisions?


    ¡°A daunting choice for a library; to foster ignorance.¡± The Voice sounded almost amused.


    ¡°My apologies,¡± Ismene said, concerned, but the Voice waved his hand as if brushing the thought aside.


    ¡°Walk with me?¡± the Voice said. The invitation was equally unusual, and Ismene immediately accepted.


    She wasn¡¯t sure of the protocol in such a situation; but the Voice chose to guide her along as if they were mere friends. She walked past the front desk with them, nodding politely to the desk Hand as she dropped off the dictionary.


    The main hall was dim, the lamps turned low. No one else was about, although Ismene wasn''t sure it was all that late. The Voice¡¯s veil glittered faintly in the near-dark.


    ¡°You hit near the mark,¡± the Voice said suddenly. ¡°It has been hundreds of years since the Library began; but its origins are shrouded. That is both by choice, and by circumstance. I see you know of the Monster?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Voice,¡± Ismene said.


    ¡°It was no myth. The Castle took action against it and, in doing so, inflicted great damage on the land.¡± The Voice walked slowly, and Ismene carefully kept pace. ¡°Lives were lost. Records were destroyed. The Castle itself was gravely hurt; and so, it slept. When I became its Voice, its heart, only then did it awaken." That had been a very long time ago, Ismene thought. Had they been the sole Voice that entire time? "Together, we sought once again to exist among others. The Castle seeks to share, and share we do, in this Library; but I have guarded its privacy carefully."


    And that was, in part, the role of the Voice? Ismene was fascinated. She had so many questions.


    ¡°The Castle appreciates that it has company,¡± the Voice commented. ¡°But I, however long-lived I have become, will not live forever.¡± They turned down the hallway to the living quarters, and Ismene felt a hint of pique at the idea that she was being escorted to her rooms like a child found out of bounds. But that wasn''t what the Voice had said.


    "Pardon me; what do you mean?" Ismene asked.


    The Voice produced a slim volume from within their voluminous veil. It was not a Library volume; it was a bound paper book. They handed it to Ismene, who took it uncertainly.


    ¡°I would share these things with you," the Voice said. "Read, if you will. You have proven a friend to this place; and the Castle, for so long as it has a Voice, understands the value of such things as friends.¡±


    The statement was faintly ominous, and Ismene nodded gravely. ¡°Thank you, Voice,¡± she said. They had come to her door.


    ¡°Sleep well, Ismene,¡± they said, before they swept back down the hallway.


    ¡°You, too, Voice,¡± Ismene said quietly.


    When she was inside her quarters, Ismene breathed a long sigh and let the tension swim around in her. The Voice had come to her! The Voice had spoken with her! The Voice had... given her a book.


    Ismene looked down at it. Disbelievingly, she read the title.


    ¡°¡®The Past Thousand Years¡¯,¡± she spoke aloud. Beneath the title, there was an engraving of the Castle¡¯s emblematic star.


    She opened the cover and read the table of contents. She smiled. It was a history book. It was even in Tyrenian.


    She laughed. The Voice hadn''t tactfully steered her away from forbidden topics, after all. The Voice had given her answers.


    Ismene took the book and swung around the room, impulsively turning as if dancing with it, suddenly filled with joy. The Castle had let her have this. The Voice¡ªor the Castle¡ªhad reservations, but they had given her this. For once in her life, Ismene had formed a connection that led down a path that didn''t end in punishment or obscurity.


    She sat down in the most comfortable place she could find, and turned the page, and started to read.

 Ismene and the Voice II

    It was getting late. Ismene looked out at the darkness; the moon had set. She''d been reading for a while.


    The text was poetic. Almost mythological. Ismene didn''t mind it; it was clearly written to be abstract, a story told in the way of someone who had deeper truths to convey. Everyday detail wasn''t quite the same thing as the reality one held inside. Anyone who loved to read knew that, no matter how few books they could find.


    But there was enough detail for her to be enraptured.


    The book told the story of the current Voice''s arrival as a prisoner. Their captivity, their near-death at the hands of Apiate priests, and their final appeal to the Castle. Even then, it had had a reputation for haunting; and at that time, the land was genuinely dangerous. The priests, the book said, had come only in a dire need, and with a faulty understanding of the Castle''s nature. They had aimed to calm its dangers, and had ultimately failed.


    But the Castle had accepted the prisoner''s appeal and, in the end, gained a Voice.


    The Castle woke up, then, and in time, the Library began. The Tyrenian temples took note; travelers came from beyond the immediate lands. The Castle and its rules as Ismene knew them had been shaped as it became a place of learning.


    The loss of the Castle''s own history must have been a terrible thing, Ismene thought. Its shrouded origins were frustrating. The Voice was not the first Voice; they knew this much. Did they, together, wonder about the Castle''s past as Ismene did? The books'' answer, however, and the main goal of the Voice, was the preservation of the Castle in the world, and a peaceful coexistence with the people around it.


    The Castle was, in its majestic way, a threat to those people, the book said. It posed questions to the curious that it would not answer, and possessed power that should not be abused, the book said. Ismene knew Eryx would agree about its self-assessment. All the same, she found the Castle''s history as magical as she could have hoped.


    The Voice and the Castle were one. The Hands were one with them both, in some way, and Ismene wasn''t sure where one ended and the others began.


    There was one more thing that she had learned. One thing that made her nerves twist and glimmer in equal measure.


    The Voice did not live forever. Their lifespan was uncertain, and the Castle''s lost memories meant that they had no remedy, if one existed. The current situation was apparently clear. The Voice would die, or dissolve, in time. And that time was coming closer.


    The Voice and the Castle were not sure what would happen then; but they hoped that a new Voice could be established.


    Ismene wasn''t sure she dared consider the idea. Could she take their place? Could she become one with the Castle, and live alongside it? It would become a very long life. It would be a dream. A gift. But there were prerequisites. The ability to connect. A transition. A possibility of failure.


    Ismene thought of the dream she had had. There had been others, over time. She had never considered her dreams of the Castle to be nightmares. What if they were something more than dreams? What if she was somehow receiving them from the Castle?


    At that point, Ismene set the book aside. She took a long bath, trying to compose her thoughts.


    She couldn''t throw everything away. Couldn''t just give up. She''d worked hard, pushed to get where the was. Harmonia valued her, and Ismene did work she found fruitful. Even if she hid it, the books she smuggled were of use. And now, she could help Eryx do more. Trying to run away or remain at the Castle represented an irredeemable transgression against her future.


    "I''m doing all right," Ismene told herself. "Anyone would be glad to have a place in a House like Prytane Mellon''s. It''s stable. I''ll still have work when I''m old. Before that, I might¡ª"


    She trailed off, looking at the darkened windows. She might do better for herself, in the House, in time? At thirty, she wondered if that was really true. All the same, what she should do was appreciate what she had now. Giving up on a future and ruining all her chances for a fairy tale wasn''t reasonable. And she shouldn''t wish the Voice''s death. Not for her benefit. No matter what mystical union she dreamed of, Ismene had a place she should be grateful for; the apparent trust of the Voice, and a good place in a House.


    "You have a job to do," she told herself. Not even her mother could argue with that. "The Voice has been good to you. Be grateful."


    She settled into bed, determined to make the most of the rest of her trip.


    * * *


    ¡°Wake up!¡±


    Ismene jolted, suddenly awake. She heard Harmonia''s voice from outside her room. ¡°Come on; we¡¯re heading out.¡±


    Ismene searched out the Voice''s book; it was still beside her bed. Harmonia was outside, safely; the door hadn''t opened for her. But Harmonia¡¯s urgency¡ªand her temper¡ªwere clear. Ismene raced to answer the door.


    ¡°Good morning; why so soon, ma''am?¡±


    ¡°Business at home,¡± Harmonia said curtly. ¡°Father sent Tarn to notify me. Hurry up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to pick up the volumes, if they''re ready,¡± Ismene said. "Did you want to wait for the poetry?"


    ¡°No. Get the pickups you can, and we¡¯ll be out,¡± Harmonia said. ¡°I¡¯ll get Eryx."This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Harmonia was trying to look nonchalant, Ismene thought, as she hastily packed. I¡¯d best keep my eyes clear, she thought. She pulled on her ordinary pants and tunic instead of the soft robes the Castle had provided, and tugged her travel robe on over everything.


    She made sure to take the Voice''s book along with her book cases, when she went down to the Library.


    ¡°Welcome,¡± the desk Hand said, and Ismene took a breath. Should she address them as the Castle? As the Voice? They were both.


    ¡°You kindly lent this to me,¡± she began, ¡°I''m grateful. But my party, Lady Harmonia¡¯s party, is leaving unexpectedly. I''m sorry, but I''ll have to return it unfinished,¡± she said, giving the volume to the Hand.


    "Of course. We have some of your copies," the Hand volunteered.


    "Oh; thank you!" Ismene said. Somewhat to her surprise, everything she''d requested before her meeting with Harmonia was done; both the books Harmonia knew about, and the books she didn''t. They were already wrapped, waterproof and safe for the trip. She packed the books carefully, making sure to keep her smuggled books out of the way.


    She''d just have to get the poetry and the other novels on the next trip. Harmonia would have to accept it.


    Suddenly, Ismene didn''t want to go without saying more. "Thank you for everything, Castle, Voice," she said quietly to the Hand. "You take such good care of us. I never knew all these people were¡ªall you. I''m happy every time I visit. I''m grateful you let me read that book." She envied the Voice, Ismene thought, more than anyone else she''d ever known. She wanted to ask the Voice straightforwardly: what was it like? Being one with the Castle, and for so long? Why had the Voice valued her enough to share the book with her?


    "Can you not stay, to learn more?"


    The Hand''s question took Ismene by surprise, but she shook her head. "Lady Harmonia''s leaving, so I have to go," she said.


    "You would be welcome as a guest." The Hand said.


    "Alone?" Ismene felt her eyebrows raise. The Hand nodded.


    Ismene''s nerves crowded up in her stomach. Stay? On her own? She couldn''t get that sort of approval¡ª


    "You would let me?" she asked, hopelessly.


    The Hand nodded again. Could she? Why would the Hand, the whole Castle, offer that to her?


    "What''s taking so long?" Harmonia''s voice made Ismene almost flinch, and she felt the impossibility of what the Hand was offering crashing down on her.


    "I''m sorry, ma''am," Ismene said. Her superior was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. "I''m just getting the books, I''ll be down right away."


    "You''d better hurry," Harmonia declared, and then, miraculously, left.


    Put on the spot, Ismene knew she couldn''t do it. She could come to the Castle because of Harmonia; she had the chance to come back in the future because of Harmonia. She couldn''t just sever her contract and refuse to leave the place for a while; she''d never find a Tyrenian House to take her again. She''d be a vagabond, and that was a quick route to death by impressment into labor. Again, the ever-looming specter of the army, or the factory.


    And if she did stay, what would she do here? Work? The Castle looked after itself. Ismene couldn''t do nothing. Surely no one could do that, even in a place as rich as this. The Castle was generous with its guests, but if Ismene couldn''t offer it anything useful, how long would she be welcome?


    She couldn''t be the Voice.


    "I''m sorry," she said, realizing she was being emotional. The Hand appeared as distant as always. "I should go; but, thank you. I hope I can see you again soon."


    The Hand nodded, and Ismene turned to leave. Before she went too far, Ismene heard the Hand say something.


    "Thank you, Ismene. Please, return here soon."


    She turned back, and saw something she''d never seen before.


    The Hand was smiling at her.


    She smiled back, as widely and genuinely as she could remember, and then left. Ismene was halfway down to the stables, eyes tearing up with a strangely painful happiness, when she realized that she''d even been addressed by name.


    The Hand''s smile had been a true one. Not the blank polite sort of greeting-smile that people made and expected for no reason, but the sort that someone had when they were genuinely fond of the person they were talking to. Ismene wasn''t sure she saw them all that often.


    She didn''t want to go, she thought.


    Ismene arrived at the stables, weighed down with her cases, to find Eryx visibly annoyed. Harmonia had apparently dragooned her into helping ready the horses, along with a couple of briskly working Hands. Harmonia herself was supervising.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why we can¡¯t claim we were delayed,¡± Eryx said. ¡°I¡¯m not done, and Mellon is going to want decent work out of me instead of something half-baked.¡±


    ¡°That''s Prytane Mellon, Eryx. It doesn¡¯t matter, dear,¡± Harmonia replied coldly. ¡°Father won¡¯t blame you for following his own orders. He¡¯ll figure something out.¡±


    Eryx pursed her lips. "I dislike having to leave the rest of my notes," she said. "I brought some of your father''s memos when we came. I''d rather not tell him I was careless with them."


    "It doesn''t matter what you think he thinks." Harmonia dismissed her with a clipped tone. Ismene thought she was a step away from rebuking Eryx. "The Hands will keep them for next time. We''re going."


    Would there be a next time for Eryx? Maybe they really would come back soon, Ismene thought. Eryx''s permit would only last so long, and the Prytane probably did want her to finish her research.


    Harmonia went ahead to say her goodbyes to the Voice; Eryx and Ismene, with a Hand leading Harmonia''s mount, took the horses to the Castle¡¯s entry hall.


    ¡°Do you know why we¡¯re leaving?¡± Eryx asked her when Harmonia was gone.


    ¡°No,¡± Ismene said. She wished she had better explanations, but she had no idea why the Prytane needed Harmonia back. It didn''t really matter. He called, and back they would go.


    "This is the last thing I need," Eryx grumbled as Ismene helped her and secured her own animal. "This place is bad enough."


    "What do you mean?" Ismene asked. Eryx hadn''t been so negative before.


    "Had a weird dream," Eryx said.


    Something froze in Ismene. "Weird?"


    "Dreamed about sinking into the earth. But I was inside, here, I think. And everything was watching me," Eryx said, shaking her head. "This place is spooky, and I don''t like it."


    Ismene hadn''t realized until that moment just how much she''d liked the idea that her own dreams implied some connection to the Castle. That maybe she was special. She should have known it was a foolish thing to think.


    There wasn''t any time to feel sorry about it. She had work do to.


    When they reached the entrance, Ismene was surprised to find the Voice waiting for them alongside Harmonia. Harmonia took her horse''s reins from the escorting Hand and bowed to them. "I must take my farewell, Voice. My apologies for the abrupt departure."


    ¡°Can you stay no longer?¡± the Voice asked.


    ¡°You are very gracious; but I am needed at home,¡± Harmonia said. ¡°Thank you for your hospitality, Voice; and my constant compliments to your Castle.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± the Voice said. ¡°Travel safely. May you return soon.¡±


    Harmonia said some pithy goodbye; but Ismene thought that the Voice looked at her, not Harmonia, under their veil as the group left. They had called her a friend, after all.


    They rode across the great bridge, then; and Ismene left the Castle behind.

 Ismene and the Voice III

    The trip went quickly enough. The weather held; although there was distant thunder, no rains came to delay them. Harmonia set a brisk pace. By the time they got to the edge of the Castle''s lands, they were all sore from travel, and Ismene was beginning to worry about the horses.


    At the gatehouse, they''d all dismounted for the inspection. The soldiers helped Harmonia unload their horses, carrying everything into a room in the gatehouse, where it was placed on an empty table. Next to them, there was a scholar in the midst of another inspection; it had clearly been going on for a while. Their notes were scattered every which way; some of their books had been set aside; the scholar himself was sitting with a resigned look on his face while the soldiers amused themselves flipping through his books.


    Perhaps, when they applied to the Prytane in charge of border matters, some of the confiscated books would be returned. Perhaps some might end up in the hands of the publishers, be that Ismene''s employers or one of the smaller businesses. Some would simply never be seen again, mouldering in a private collection.


    Harmonia''s inspection was different. The soldiers did rummage through their satchels: one took the list Ismene had drafted, scanned through it, and scanned through Harmonia''s cases of books. One book was picked out from the top level and unwrapped. They didn''t actually bother checking the book cases against the list. Harmonia was, after all, member of a House in the Assembly.


    When they were packed up and riding out, Eryx had a sour look on her face. Ismene fell in with her, after they''d ridden down the road a while and Harmonia was ahead enough not to hear.


    "That''s really all?" Eryx''s tone was simmeringly disappointed. "That other guy was getting taken apart."


    Ismene was letting herself relax. The smuggled volumes wouldn''t get across the border if the guards did their job properly¡ªor if they didn''t defer to Harmonia''s authority. "Rank has privileges," she concluded, shrugging.


    "I''ll show them rank," Eryx grumbled.


    Ismene grinned, but schooled her face as Harmonia looked back.


    "Keep up your pace," Harmonia called. "I''ve got a meeting to keep."


    Now that they were past the border, the land became familiar. The Castle''s deep forest was replaced with village operations; farms, manufacturing towns, and attractive family estates. Servants were out on the roads, going about their daily business. Harmonia''s party was stopped sometimes by military patrols; but each time, she showed them her family seal, and they were allowed to pass without toll. At well-patronized waypoints, they stayed the night and moved on early.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    The return to Dryas always brought out mixed feelings in Ismene. On the one hand, she felt energized; ready to step back into the print shop with fresh eyes, ready to get back into the industrious grind of bookbinding and bookselling. Returning from a trip always made the ordinary become more interesting.


    On the other hand, Ismene missed the Castle; its strangeness and its luxury alike. She did have a room to herself in Harmonia''s villa in Dryas, but it was spartan and tiny. She had long ago exhausted the dorm library. The city was large and bustling, but she couldn''t leave it without papers, and Ismene didn''t get much leave. And as much as she felt energized to work, Ismene felt increasingly dissatisfied at going back to a grind that would, ultimately, be all she ever did. As much as she wanted a library, there was no profit in it; Mellon would never approve it. She probably wouldn''t end up overseeing her own branch of the publishing business, not when there were employers willing to take up a franchise with Mellon''s House. Ismene would probably stay in the same job until she aged enough to be relegated to household minutiae.


    Ismene was, after all, stuck. Her mother always had warned her of coming to a dead end in the city. Ismene would argue that she''d found gainful work that was suited to her interests, but really, what was the benefit of working herself into obsolescence?


    She wished she''d been able to finish reading the Voice''s book. Ismene didn''t know what to make of it, but she liked the idea that the Voice had come to her directly.


    They rode into Dryas, much as they had to the Castle, with the setting sun; but here it was at her back. House parties spilled out into the streets from richly decorated villas. Everywhere, workers walked on foot to and from their shifts. Carts crawled out of the city and in. Soldiers kept up their watches in twos and threes.


    They stopped at the workshop along the way, so Ismene could unload the new books. She shelved them in stacks, still wrapped, with Harmonia waiting half-attentively at her shoulder. It was a relief to have them put away safely; Ismene was never quite sanguine about her antics until the trip was over. She''d separate out her smuggled copies in the morning, when she worked unsupervised. When Ismene was done, Harmonia locked the cabinet and, then, the office. Eryx was yawning.


    When they reached the villa, Harmonia was greeted by cheerful voices and the fussing of her attendant. She stayed at the real entrance, leaving her companions to fend for themselves. Ismene bid Eryx farewell and together, they walked into the servant''s end of the villa. Unlike the fine front of the complex, the gate Ismene entered was simple and small. She signed in with the guard.


    At this point in the evening, there wasn''t much activity. There were always groups of servants somewhere, but most were already in their beds. Ismene did make herself wash while the bath was empty, and snagged a roll from the kitchens before allowing herself to creep up to her cubicle. As tiny as it was, she was glad for the privacy.


    There, under her pillow, someone had slipped a letter. It was folded in an intricate pattern and sealed with a slit-off piece, twisted so that the reader could not open it without tearing the document. The letter, then, that her mother had promised.


    Ismene put the letter back. She would deal with it later. For now, she just wanted to sleep.

 7. Candidates

    The Voice picked the history book up off the Library counter. ¡°She displays great interest in us,¡± they commented aloud. They could not communicate silently anymore, not so far from the Castle''s core rooms. Their Hands were as often the Castle''s mouthpieces as their own.


    The Hand at the desk also spoke, without looking up from their work. ¡°We can talk to her,¡± they said, tone distant. ¡°She has the capacity to understand us. She dreams brightly.¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Will she come back if you ask?¡± the Voice wondered.


    ¡°She may," the Hand said levelly. "We will call for her."


    ¡°If she can¡¯t come back?¡± the Voice asked. "Or continues to deny you."


    ¡°Then, when you are gone, we will dream. Some of the others hear us. One will accept us.¡± The Hand seemed unmoved by the prospect. The Voice, however, looked out through the library archway to the hall beyond.


    "We should begin to send the others away," they said. "The anomalies are growing."

 8. In Tyrene

    The finishing hall was full of racks, book viscera, and the scents of glue and paste. On one side, books were pressed and bound, and on the other, the finishing touches were applied. Ismene liked the way the sunlight fell in visible rays through the tight, upper windows; it gave the bustle below a sort of nimbus. Everyone wore light face masks; otherwise, one tended to sneeze.


    "Welcome back, Iz!" one of the binders greeted her. "Get us some good reading?"


    "Always, Oron," she said, making her way down the tables. Some of the others looked up or gave her a wave, and went back to work. "How''s it been?"


    Getting back to work felt satisfying. Most of the binding servants lived in the same dorms she did, and had news of their friends, the villa household, and their cr¨¨che. In return, she had tales of the Castle. Now that she was back, it felt mythical and far-off indeed. Meanwhile, Ismene had a lot to do in the book shop. The inventory had to be confirmed; materials checked; reports written or gathered. The other servants kept the different departments running smoothly, and Ismene rarely had grounds for complaint, but she still had to check and re-check. For hours she inspected machinery and tools, ink and paper, racks and books. It would be her job lost if Harmonia found a shortfall.


    After she was caught up, Ismene unlocked the new materials cabinet to properly sort out their acquisitions from the night before. Her illicit volumes went in the back of the used-originals cabinet; it also locked, and it was tucked inconspicuously out of the way. The used originals generally didn''t do anything but sit there until Harmonia gave them away as gifts, so it was a good place to hide books. No one would question an additional Castle volume. Someone from the guild would be there to pick them up later.


    That, and the record-keeping for her legitimate new arrivals, was a long process. When the lunchman came by, Ismene turned over a token for a packaged meal and took it out back to eat. She was lucky today; they had included little meat pies, along with a cheese that she hadn''t tired too much of. She hated the onions, but she knew she''d best eat them too.


    Well; she thought. Her mother''s letter couldn''t wait forever. She took it out of her pocket, tugging open the outer fold. The slip of paper keeping it locked tore as the pages parted.


    The words buy out crossed her eyes, and she almost refolded the letter. But she couldn''t redo the lock any more than she could ignore the contents. Ismene started to read.


    You always spoke of something more. Well, this is your chance. Timander''s willing to buy out your contract in full. I think that you have a much higher chance of moving up into a management position here, and through this, you might be able to accomplish something permanent.


    I feel like you''ve been willing to settle for obscurity. This sort of chance isn''t likely to come again. So, I''ve handled the negotiation with your contracted House myself.


    Not many Tyrenians get this sort of chance anymore. I expect you to take it.


    Ismene wanted to reach through the letter, take her mother''s hand, and ask her what the gods she was thinking.


    It was humiliating. Her cr¨¨che mother, reaching out on her behalf? Ismene was too old for that sort of networking. Did Timander actually want to poach her? Had Mellon''s people already been contacted by a representative of Timander''s, or Autonoe herself? Gods. She hoped it wasn''t that; he would have to wonder why Ismene couldn''t apply to Harmonia about it herself. She didn''t know if Harmonia would be mad, but she definitely wouldn''t think much of it. Ismene had worked too long for Harmonia to cancel her contract without complaint.


    There is a pair of unattached siblings in the family, and by joining with either, you could press your ambitions there. Pairing off with someone in the business family could certainly raise someone''s chances of becoming an employer themselves; or having a license basically given to them. Ismene would be dependent on her spouse, though. If they didn''t want to support her ambitions... well, she''d be very well trapped. Maybe more than if she''d just taken the job itself.


    "You''ve got to be kidding me," she said, and then made herself take a deep breath. Expelling it, Ismene considered her options. If the application got off the ground, technically, she could take it. Timander published lovely maps, and their books were works of art. It was true. Ismene liked them.


    She didn''t want to make them for the rest of her life, though. The position wasn''t even that bad, on the surface; a good allowance, guaranteed two days'' off, and access to the farms for food. But Ismene had her suspicions. Moving up might be possible, but the shops would be focused on producing the colored maps and hand-work that Timander was known for. She''d be back to bookbinding. It might be specialized, high-quality bookbinding, but Ismene wasn''t interested. She didn''t have the skills to do tedious, small-scale hand embellishment and coloring work. She didn''t even know how long she''d last, even with two days off in eight, before her sight and wrists wore out. She didn''t want to color the borders of Apion a thousand times over. She might spend years doing that, and never get the promised promotion.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Her mother had really outdone herself this time. She had to write back and tell her mother to stop.


    "And I''ll never give up the Castle," she said.


    Ismene turned back to her half-eaten meat pie, and set about it so she could get back to work on time.


    When the book shop closed for the night, the streets were already dim. Ismene barred the front door, and drew the curtains. She surveyed the lamplit shelves of stock, each neatly stamped in blue. They had made sales, of course. Somewhere out there, the books she helped make and sell were being read. Some by those who paid in tokens, and the better by those who could pay in cash.


    Somewhere out there, copies of the books Ismene had smuggled were being read too.


    I''m making the right choice, to stay, she told herself. But how could she tell her mother about her real reasons?


    She went into the back and signed the sheets for the day crowd so that they could leave. The evening crew was already milling around the back door. Some were servants in houses who rented space from Mellon, but most were Harmonia''s people. They''d be busy with ongoing jobs and the new books, until the next influx of new material came in.


    After letting everyone in and signing their work sheets, Ismene started giving assignments. Most of the printers were set to their building, typesetting the new jobs already begun during the day. The rest were assigned to copy jobs, and the binders'' work never ended. When Ismene was done, she had one printer left. They were tall, intimidating really, but Ismene was used to them.


    "Good to see you, Evo," Ismene told them. Evo was guild; Ismene''s one real contact with the movement. She suspected they were occasionally responsible for sneaking out bits of type and press parts under Ismene''s carefully turned nose. "Got a complicated job for us to discuss." The usual excuse was that Evo did a lot of go-between work to the people who did picture plates for them. That was true; but they both knew what Ismene was talking about.


    Wandering into the back, they got to work. With the coast clear, Ismene unlocked her cabinet and started handing books off to Evo. "Ledgers... the ''cookbook''... and. I got that novel you were hoping for, too."


    Evo laid the titles out; the educational, expensive, or simply banned. Ismene handed the last to them. It was titled Factory Girl. She just grinned.


    ¡°Ohh,¡± Evo said. ¡°You did get it.¡± Unlike most of Ismene''s legitimate books, this one was recently written. Ismene had no idea who¡¯d read it into the Library¡¯s collection. It hadn''t been her.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised,¡± Evo said, flipping through it. "I didn''t really think they''d have it." The novel was coolly honest about its description of life as a factory servant. They had few memories of a cr¨¨che. When work was scarce, their cohort had been let go at age fourteen. Some of them were saved from vagrancy by an opportunistic employer, but it wasn''t a happy ending. They hadn''t starved, true. Hadn''t been picked up by soldiers. But the author had tasted a moment of freedom, only to watch her family be split up and put back to the grind. The author openly wondered in her writing whether it had really been salvation at all.


    It was a hard read. If not for Harmonia, and Ismene''s success at the bookbinding shop, she''d have ended up somewhere like that.


    The plainly written novel had been picked up by an enterprising small publisher, and run as something of a shock piece. The Assembly had immediately accused them of writing seditious fiction and outright lies. The publisher had settled for a hefty obscenity fine, but as far as Ismene knew, the domestic print run had been rooted out and destroyed. Only copies that had left Tyrene were likely to survive¡ªif they weren''t secreted away in fancy private libraries, never to be seen again.


    As if the book was to blame, Ismene thought. Remove the book, and surely the conditions will change! But she could see some employers thinking that. How nice for them that the Library never forgot.


    "I have some extra paper for you, too," Ismene added. It was written off as a loss; she didn''t have to know where it was going. Together, they packed up the books like any other delivery. Evo took their leave, weighed down with their prizes.


    Slipping Eryx''s items into her robe, Ismene locked up the rest. She waved to her relief on the way out.


    The villa was raucous with evening camaraderie, and Ismene was glad to get to the comparative privacy of her dorm. She snagged a plate and a mug from the main hall, and slinked away before anyone could try to pull her into some social gathering.


    She wasn''t done. She had to write a response to her mother.


    What should she write? That she loved her work? It was true, but it sounded implausible when she could only describe the print shop. She couldn''t tell her mother about the smuggled books. She enjoyed her Castle visits? Yes, but her position was probably as high as it would ever be.


    Was Ismene really, as her mother suggested, settling for obscurity?


    No, she told herself. She wasn''t obscure. She was helping out the Guild, and Eryx, too. As long as she never got caught sneaking books, Ismene could stay where she was indefinitely. She didn''t know how she would get a license, but she wasn''t about to give up everything she had for a nebulous set of promises. She made her excuses to her mother, scratching away on a sheet of wastepaper.


    Except they weren''t excuses, really, were they? Even if they didn''t fly with her mother. They were simply... Ismene''s decision, for Ismene''s reasons.


    "I feel like that''s all right," she said to herself, reading her missive.


    She didn''t think her mother would be happy, but her mother would have to accept it.

 BONUS: Ismene and the Real World: Company Scrip

    You load 16 tons, what do you get?


    Another day older and deeper in debt


    St. Peter, don''t you call me ''cause I can''t go


    I owe my soul to the company store


    ¡ªSixteen Tons, by Merle Travis


    In the real world: company scrip


    Scrip, in a broad sense, is money¡ªbut it is money issued by an isolated or disconnected system. It''s an alternative to legal tender. Communities and organizations have issued scrip, and the US Army has used scrip to pay its personnel. While companies profited from the use of scrip systems, company scrip constitutes a form of worker exploitation. It allows for higher corporate profit margins through debt systems, recapture of value from employees'' pay, and a monopoly on products sold in a company store.


    Company scrip is non-transferrable money issued by a company to pay its workers. This practice has been used worldwide, especially as a part of company towns, and is currently illegal in some nations. In the 19th century and into the early 20th, some US lumber and coal companies paid their employees in scrip. This was theoretically beneficial to keep the local economy going; the company ran a company store, where employees could buy what they needed even if the area was otherwise isolated. However, this also allowed the company to ensure workers could only buy goods from the company-run store, allowing them to charge high prices and make high profits. Companies could also control the rate at which scrip could be changed for cash, effectively lowering wages and preventing employees from having the money to pay cheaper prices elsewhere. Coal companies offered advances on wages, which were paid in scrip and at a lower rate than their future cash value. This put workers in a ''payday loan'' debt spiral, effectively debt slavery.


    While scrip could be viewed as a way for companies to help employees in debt, for isolated workplaces to ensure a functioning economy, and for companies to make a higher profit, it prevented workers from moving elsewhere, slowed the growth of local economies, and enriched companies at their workers'' expense.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Scrip has been illegal in the United Kingdom since 1725, and was outlawed in the US in 1938 (although its use continued in some states until 1967). Other value capture practices, such as fees levied on pay cards, are currently legal.


    In Tyrene: the token wage dystopia


    Because Tyrenian workers do not have a right to earn wages paid in cash, Tyrenian Houses have instituted a system of company scrip in the form of House-issued token coins. This has effectively created a two-currency economy, where House members enjoy a freedom of economic choice that workers do not, and a value disparity where Houses can control the value of goods and services that their workers receive. At the time of Ismene, this system is becoming more unbalanced and is opposed by a worker''s rights movement, as well as by some House members (especially scholars).


    Tyrenian Houses supply their workers with various goods in kind, and pay the rest of their wages in tokens. This satisfies the legal responsibility that Tyrenian Houses have for their workers (such as it is). Many products and services are only available for purchase with cash money (by regulation, or custom), making them inaccessible to a worker. Houses sell lower-quality goods for tokens, but may not stock all the things a worker needs. Other Houses'' products, where legal, can be bought at various inflated prices if that House accepts a worker''s token type. Many Houses make deals with providers of goods and services to accept their workers'' tokens at a more reasonable rate. These arrangements are considered to be workers'' benefits and are much-spoken of in House publications.


    There is a healthy underground token trade between Houses, where workers trade each others'' tokens to gain access to products or services they could not otherwise get. This practice is not illegal, but many Houses search employees'' quarters and confiscate non-wage tokens. Another House''s tokens are not, after all, worker property. A House loses revenue options if its workers are paying premiums for someone else''s token type, so they do not encourage moneychanging. On the other hand, a House that can accept profitable purchases in another House''s token can use that currency to its benefit.


    Tokens have cash value, as per Assembly law, but this does not allow workers access to cash. Cash money can be converted to and from tokens by House family members, who have access to banking services. While it is not illegal for workers to possess cash money, they do not have the legal right to spend it, and Houses strongly enforce punishments for ''theft''. Houses run their own internal token banks for their workers, capturing some value back through fees and fines.


    The Guilds support the abolishment of tokens and the institution of single-currency cash wages.

 9. The Servants Guild

    "We shouldn''t have done this," Ricke muttered. She didn''t seem to mind if Eryx heard her.


    It had been difficult to find the servants who met as a guild, much less schedule a meeting. Eryx understood; Ismene might have trusted her to keep her mouth shut, but the servants who actually went to the meetings stood to lose more if Eryx exposed them. Harmonia might not cancel their contracts, but they could easily face discipline.


    They had opened the meeting with a prayer, a carefully nondenominational prayer to several gods, held without any offering or shrine. The sincerity of their requests had done more to attach her to their cause than any rote, half-hearted manager''s prayer for their House ever had. It would have infuriated Harmonia.


    "I''m grateful for your willingness to welcome me," Eryx said. She knew some of them. Bis was one of the printers, someone she''d known Ismene to work with, and they were there along with Oron, another printer. About half of the scholars who lived at Lady Harmonia''s villa were present. The rest were workers that she knew in varying degrees. That they''d never invited her made Eryx wonder how little she had been, after all her work, trusted.


    "Well, we''re here. And so are you; Mellon''s patronized scholar. The question is, why are you here?" Ricke asked. Rangy and energetic, she was by far the most forceful of the group. Next to her was Mere, her spouse who worked in the villa, and Ophra from the dorm.


    "I learned a thing or two at the Castle," Eryx said. She thought of the Castle, dark and alien, and sighed. "That place has such a library... a real library. Do you know, I''ve never used Mellon''s library unsupervised?"


    Ricke cocked her head. Next to her, Mere nodded. "Of course not." She taught in the villa''s cr¨¨che; she was permitted textbooks for the purpose.


    "The Castle''s library is so much bigger," Eryx said. "And I had the run of it, more or less." She fidgeted; her hands were empty, because she didn''t want to bring any notes to the meeting that might be waylaid. "And I had to navigate Harmonia, who didn''t think I deserved to read some of it. I think I realized that the House owners alone weren''t going to make the sorts of changes I wanted to see. When I found out that we have active guildservants, I thought I should join you. I''ve only communicated with the regional office, before."Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "You''re just a scholar," Ricke said. "We''re... more than that. We don''t just want Mellon to make improvements. We want Tyrene to change."


    "And I realized that, too," Eryx said. "Wait. ''Just'' a scholar?" she asked with a faint grin.


    "You''re sponsored by Mellon, and that''s safe, but it also keeps you out of touch," Mere said. Eryx bristled, and she held up a hand. "I know you came from the factories. We''ve always assumed you knew what you were doing. But you are a scholar, and that means... well, it means you''re working directly with the House, and not for us."


    Ricke added more. "Before today I thought you''d have turned us in for conspiring against House authority. Or violating curfew, for all I know. We''ll make a guildmember of you yet," she grinned. "Honestly; we''re glad to have you."


    "Thirty years ago, servants were fighting for the right to have positions," Ophra grumbled. "I think I preferred her being realistic. Someone has to."


    "That''s exactly it, though," Eryx said, gesturing widely. "After getting that unsupervised reading time, I''ve learned a lot of things I didn''t think sounded realistic at all. A hundred and fifty years ago, everyone in Dryas got shares of the city''s harvest and trade fees, in hard coin," Eryx emphasized. "It''s realistic that the Assembly used to include delegates like farmers and weavers, not just license holders. They used to elect representatives¡ªservants!¡ªfrom individual departments. Now, only the houses own licenses, or make real money, or get appointments to the Assembly. It''s realistic to say that things don''t have to be the way they are now."


    "That''s exactly the sort of cloud-minded thinking I''m worried about," Ophra argued. "We aren''t business owners. We don''t earn profit off of other people''s work. We''re the ones who do the work. If we want to be taken care of, we have to remember that."


    "Yeah, you''d love running your dorms for profit," Ricke ribbed him. "A real landlord, you are."


    Ophra grumbled. "I still think we shouldn''t let her attend."


    "It would be good for you," Eryx argued. "Even if you don''t think I can do you much good, I''d like to be on the same page for planning reasons," she said. "My next proposal to Mellon is going to be about coin. Not allowances, not like we''re contracted to earn in tokens. But a wage."


    "In place of tokens?" Mere asked.


    "Alongside them," Eryx said. "Maybe a very small percentage of House profits. But hard coin. And I''d rather work with you than around you." She nodded at Ricke, Mere and Ophra in turn.


    Mere and Ricke traded glances, and Ophra crossed his arms.


    "Will you let me attend your meetings?" Eryx asked. "I want to discuss that idea and see what suggestions and criticisms you have."


    "We may," Ricke said. "We''ll have to talk about it."


    Eryx nodded. "Thank you. I hope I''ll see you again soon."