[Belin]

Oddly, Celumëomaryu lingered by the gate where the intruders who'd opposed the Mewlips had gone out. Ignoring with a shudder a booming voice that she suspected was not Maladil's, she had heard the speech of these four in fragments and shreds, and had understood less than she'd heard, (though the name of Andreth was from the first a somehow tantalizingly familiar one to her). They spoke of the gold, that much was certain. Robbers? Likely enough, yes, but what business was it of hers? She was no guardian of the castle now. Nevertheless, she had hovered within earshot of them, listening with all her might. Ah, the relief of hearing people--robbers, gamblers, fools, or whatever they may have been-- speak of gold again! So it was that she'd still been considering and not deciding when they quietly took their leave.

She stared through the gate into the forest beyond. Until the day before, she hadn't been outside in what probably amounted to years,and not for years before her death had she looked out into the forest. Outside walked the living, she thought, probably far more often than she'd imagined, singing just as this group had.

How strange they were, she thought. Mortals at half the usual height, and that odd woman whose body seemed have as much fluidity, though of a different kind, as a spirit did. Something odd was happening. She was sure of it.

But she lingered by the gate. These were very sensible people, and they'd have none of whatever it was. And she... She was a prisoner here; she'd have to see it. But not yet. And not yet.

....Anna and Calimiel?....

With a sigh, she turned away from the gate, singing over again, slightly inaccurately, a few of the words she'd caught from the robbers. Why do you sit upon my grave, and will not let me sleep?

Sleep indeed. She had prisoners of her own to think of. Suppose the intruders had found them? Suppose they'd found the library? The thought of their gross living fingers picking up her broken seashells, pocketing her round blue gem, breaking her shard of pottery, looking through her window onto land that was probably some kind of a frivolous adventure to them, spurred her to action, and she sped back to the castle, cursing the Butler under her breath, and herself for treating with him as she had.

*****

She stared in at the library in shock and horror....and in fury.