The Raven and the Songbird

Chapter 4

 Gwyn rubbed her eyes, the book spines blurring in front of her. It didn't help that she'd been banished to one of the lower levels, where the dark creeped between the stacks and threatened to follow her. It also didn't help that she had barely slept the night before. And that she'd come to the library straight from training.

It had been six days since she'd woken up bleary-eyed after Azriel had left her in the rain. And, as she'd thought, things were better. She had thrown herself into training and work, but she felt good about how she was managing.

She was tired.

But she could deal with that.

Merrill, of course, had sunk her claws into Gwyn's wounds almost immediately, but she knew how to handle the haughty, hateful priestess. The first few days had been rough, but she sang to herself through the extra hours she spent in the library and let the melodies accompany her as she shelved and retrieved the tomes Merrill had demanded.

Azriel had even returned to training, which was oddly comforting despite this new distance between them. It was almost normal again – Cassian with the advanced females and Azriel with the novices. Neither of them lingered after like they used to, but she couldn't help stealing a glance or two in his direction.

She would have to work on that.

With the last book shelved and her cart filled with new volumes for the white-haired priestess, Gwyn began the trek back up the ramp. She tried not to think about what Merrill would say when she found out that Gwyn couldn't locate one of the tomes on the shelves. She'd looked at every pile left on a table or desk but couldn't locate it. If she hadn't already taken too long she would have started inquiring with every priestess she could find –

"Where is that miserable girl?"

The freckles on Gwyn's nose bunched as she scowled, Merrill's screech echoing over the ramps. She inhaled deeply and breathed out her sigh, steeling herself for the encounter.

"I'm on my way, sister!" Her legs burned with the extra effort it took to push the cart laden with leather-bound parchment. With her extra time in the library – to help her minimize the time when she was idle and alone – her body was still adjusting to the additional walking, pushing, and lifting.

Library work really was good conditioning.

Merrill was no longer at the rail when she reached level four so Gwyn pushed the cart through the stacks and down the hall to the sister's office. Papers and books were strewn about, and the copper-haired priestess wondered how she could possibly keep everything straight. Of course, she'd had Gwyn to help – that was how.

"I hope you found the time between frolicking and singing to do what I asked of you?"

"Merrill, I was fully focused on your task," she searched for a way to satisfy the female. "The work just makes me so happy I can't help but sing." Gwyn pasted a bright smile on her face as she lugged a stack into the office, searching for any clear surface that might hold them.

"Foolish Gwyneth," Merrill hissed, not deigning to look at her. "Have you ever thought that some of the females here don't want your songs thrust upon them? Have you ever thought about how they might feel seeing you so joyous when they cannot be?"

The younger priestess stilled, arms growing heavy with the weight of the tomes in her grasp. She hadn't considered that, ever. The library was a place of sanctuary and healing, and she had been experiencing those things. She had never noticed if any of the other sisters were affected by it. Surely Clotho would have mentioned something to her if there had been complaints.