47. Hawthorn Is Right

47. Hawthorn Is Right

Back in the tower, they found themselves in a grand hall of black stone where four other passages intersected, apparently leading out to other piers. In the center, a huge staircase mounted to a gallery where more flights of dark steps twined up into the tower. Beneath it, another staircase flowed down.

As Hawthorn and Frin stood there, a noise like falling gravel echoed. They shrank back into the archway's shadow as a river of Sparrows clattered down the stairs and pooled on the main floor, glistening in their beetly armor. In their hands were spears, swords, knives tied to the ends of poles, ragged banners. A black-robed person appeared at the head of the gallery stairs and looked down on the assembled Sparrows. Their face was hidden behind strips of white. The aura of a Lady pervaded the hall like a pungent aroma. All the Sparrows bent a knee.

Willow is over, said the new Lady of Black Tower, descending the staircase.

She raised her hands. From within her robe came two more. Eyes bloomed in the strips of paper. A fan of black feathers opened atop her head. Behind her, she left a trail of light.

I proclaim the beginning of the Elder Era, she said as she halted on the bottom step. In time we will celebrate. For now, there are more pressing matters: the earth shakes and the Beast comes. Make secure the tower, and end the foolish fighting without.

The Sparrows cheered and scattered. The Lady stood almost alone in the silent hall. Her many eyes turned to the place where Hawthorn and Frin hid.

"You can come out now," she said in a normal voice.

Slowly, Hawthorn did. Frin followed in her shadow.

"I regret the necessity of the parrot's death," the Elder Lady said. "But I knew my sister would have you killed sooner or later, and I could not free you directly. You would not let go, and it seemed to me you would listen more readily to your enemy than an official of this tower, so it was I you heard in prison."

"Why are you helping us at all?" said Hawthorn.

"I could not undo what my sisters had done to your mind," said the Lady. "I knew you would follow their compulsions to your own doom. But you are the last Guardian. You cannot be permitted to fail, or the Beast will destroy us all. And it is as I told you: your master and I were friends after a fashion."

Warmth flooded Hawthorn's chest.

"She only knew me as the Librarian," said the Lady. "Which is all I was. The last daughter of Hellebore hid with the beekeepers and arranged for them to supply her with honey to hide her virtues. That arrangement has held all through the long centuries, for every one of her daughters who has held the position of Librarian. Forced to be what we were not, we survived, we served the tower, and we waited."

"Is it—is it in your name the Sparrows dance, then?" said Hawthorn.

"I do not know the Luminous Name, and neither do they. There has been so much lost over the years, even to the Library. The Sparrows have never known the identity of the Librarian, either. We both carry the light of the lantern, but they are loyal to the tower and its ruler, whoever that may be. And it may not be me for long. I have few allies. I don't even have myself. What I have been as Librarian I can no long" er be, she finished (her voice dropping from a flesh person's to a Lady's). This new era of mine may only last a night.

In a burst of pity, Hawthorn nearly offered her service to the Lady. But that would be a gift with many, many strings attached, and she caught herself before speaking.

Others in the palace command armies, said the Lady. I have only the Sparrows, and whoever's coats I can turn in my sister's court. My reign may be brief, but while it lasts I wish to have a palace to rule. And so before it ends, and while I still remember Rook and their friend Hawthorn, I will see you sent to Grey to do your duty.