Silver Hooves in the Darkness

Chapter Five

The color of the bricks that made up the Library was a dark red; blood was what the librarians had said built the repository of knowledge. In contrast, Gemma's building was a bright yellow that mocked the adjacent edifice with its joyful color.

Paola tapped on the oak door decorated with triangular panels. Two librarians robed in mid-rank orange twittered behind her on the Library's green-pink marble steps while she waited for permission to enter.

"The fat one deserves it, doesn't she," said the taller of the two women with a flick of her black hand, a gesture of cool emphasis.

"Indeed," concurred the shorter one, whose mint green eyes narrowed in glee as she tossed her blonde locks. "Imagine! Defying Petronella, a descendant of the Library's founders." Her scorn twisted her fair face, making her an ugly beauty.

"Come inside," came the gruff command from the unseen Gemma. Paola entered the little building, happy to leave behind the carping librarians.

Daylight from the dome's orb filled the space today, the curtains having finally been drawn back from the two windows the office possessed. After clicking the door shut, the equina approached the librarian.

Paola wondered if the woman had even left her post last evening, for except for the brightness in the room, the scene appeared the same as she had first encountered.

Gemma set her crystal tablet down on the desk and studied her intently, her eyes mirroring determination, but also doubt and, surprisingly, sadness.

Paola extended her right hand, which grasped a yellow flower, a small purchase for so great a gift as the woman had bestowed upon her. "For you, my lady. For the honor of my name. Thank you."

"You are quite welcome, little equina, quite welcome, indeed," she replied cheerfully, but the deepening sorrow in Gemma's eyes belied her mirth. She pointed to an orange glass vase on a short bookshelf that also held account ledgers. "Put the flower in that," she added. "Then, bring it over here to me."

Paola did as she was instructed, her uneasiness growing. Gemma poured water from a pitcher, which rested on her desk, into the vase. She lightly touched the petals of the flower.

"Do you know its name? " she asked the equina.

"No, my lady."

Gemma sighed, the sound coming up from the depth of her being. "Natalia always loved daffodils. It was in the spring that she--"

The woman's eyes began to water and her cheeks soon became wet. Paola reached toward the librarian fascinated by a phenomenon that she had experienced herself when hurt, but she had yet to observe in a human.

Gemma tilted her head quizzically; then, knowledge furrowed her brow. "Ah, little one, you have never seen a human cry."

"Are you in pain?"

Gemma nodded. She said, "It hurts when I think of my friend."

"Where is she?"

Gemma rose even more slowly than the day before. She came around her desk once more. "You can help me find out what happened to her, Paola. You are young and swift and have courage."

"How, my lady? I only carry small items, such as books and messages. I cannot carry a person. You need a carriage to go between the domes. You need the great Ercole! He is strong and swift, a legend among our kind. I have only seen him in passing, but he is...."

"Magnificent. As fine an equino as ever was, but he is too big and too obvious. I require someone small and nondescript, a servant who walks among us without notice. One who handles the mundane, but essential, task of communication between the domes."