Rules for Spies

14

Gwyn stays in the library for a single sleepless night before she finds a small apartment in the Rainbow.

Clotho had not asked for an explanation when Gwyn appeared at her office door, still in her leathers with tears streaming hot down her cheeks, had only led Gwyn to her old room and offered her a sleeping draught. She hadn't taken it, not wanting the heavy, dreamless state, and had instead tossed and turned in the darkness, thoughts racing. Behind her eyelids, she saw Azriel wearing a thousand different expressions, but always, he was covered in blood, and when he drew near to her, she moved away from him, not even wanting him to open his mouth, not wanting to say that he was her mate. She forced herself to lay in the darkness until she heard the other priestesses rising with the dawn.

She and Clotho had met for an hour, most of which Gwyn had spent in a bewildered silence, until Clotho had written, I think you're ready to make your home outside the library, and then a strange laugh had broken from her mouth, disbelieving and more than a little mean. Still Clotho wore an expression of deep tenderness.

You are ready for this world, Gwyneth, if you want it.

"I feel as if the world has destroyed me."

And yet you are still standing. Clotho paused, looked up at Gwyn, and then waved her hand over her tablet for new words. There will always be a place for you in the library. But I think you will find it confining.

"Could I still work here?"

Because Clotho was right. Gwyn had felt confined in that tiny room, the walls no longer an embrace but a restriction. And there was still the mission, even if she had no idea what that would look like. No matter how bruised and broken her heart felt, her life had expanded beyond the walls of the library.

Of course, Clotho wrote, and I'd be grateful if you'd sing at services, whenever you're able.

"Even with my powers?" Because the High Lady's words have lingered in her mind.

You have never been as terrible as you imagine. And Clotho's face was so, so gentle, and Gwyn felt something in herself relax. She remembered just how much the library had saved her, how the priestesses had buoyed her when she could barely stand.

From beneath her desk, Clotho pulled up a small cloth bag, heavy with its contents, and when she pushed it across the desk, into Gwyn's hands, she realized that it was filled with enough gold to last her for a year. She could go anywhere she wanted, do anything she liked.

That's in addition to your stipend, Clotho wrote, and then pulled Gwyn into an embrace. Touch was rare and careful in the library, in deference to all that its inhabitants endured, and that made the priestesses' arms doubly comforting.

At first Gwyn had worried she wouldn't be able to find a place to live, but her feet had taken her on the path Azriel had flown weeks ago, and within minutes in the Rainbow, amidst the artists and musicians, Gwyn had felt herself breathe easier. The sounds of singing came through a dozen different windows, the music intertwining into nothing but a pleasant cacophony, no power or command inside each note.

It had only taken an hour to find an available apartment, rebuilt after Hybern's attack, above a bookstore filled with glossy volumes filled with paintings and engravings, each book worth half the gold marks in Gwyn's pocket. The owner, a stooped female with silver skin and pure white hair, seemed to have taken a liking to Gwyn right away, and as soon as she showed her the apartment, a small one-bedroom with wooden floors and walls painted a pale blue, with bookshelves built right in, Gwyn knew she wanted it.

She sleeps on the floor that first night, nestled in her coat, but though she spends the first few hours of darkness starting at every unfamiliar noise, peering at the shadows, she does not wake until daylight streamed bright through the uncovered windows.