Silver Hooves in the Darkness

Chapter Six

A girl stumbled through a field of daffodils. She stomped the blossoms under her small feet, and in doing so, destroyed them. She happily chattered to herself in broken sentences, displaying her lack of fluency of the common tongue. Nearby to the destructive child, a thin woman wearing a brown tunic and lace-ruffled pantaloons sat on a pink blanket spread on the new grass. She looked up occasionally from the book that she was reading to check on the toddler. The woven basket near her thigh contained apples, a treat many equinii could not resist, despite the clean, effortless nourishment their gems had to offer. After another disinterested check, the woman reached for a piece of fruit and bit into it, the juice streaking her narrow chin.

Standing by a copse of trees, Paola frowned. The little one had expertly marred the beautiful floral display under her clumsy feet. The adult remained unconcerned about the damage to the poor blossoms. The wanton destruction increased the disquiet in the equina's heart. Surely, there must be laws to protect the natural beauty in the domes. But even if there were regulations, one of her kind could not make a legal complaint.

Another woman came over a rise in the park and called out to the lady on the blanket. She hoped the newcomer would chide her friend, but instead, she sat beside her and also laughed at the antics of the child. This one, swaddled in a bright yellow librarian's robe, had a swollen middle. Soon, she would have her own child to ignore.

It was not so long ago that she had seen her first distended woman in the home of the fabric merchants, Dome Panno. According to an older and much larger equina Paola had stabled with, the human's big belly had meant that she was pregnant and that a child was actually growing inside her. She recalled the questions she had asked Seraphina as they walked along the narrow streets together. How did the child get created in the woman in the first place? How could a child get out of a pregnant woman? Why did they come out so small and unfinished and unknowing of the common tongue? The rowan mare had not answered her questions. She had simply trotted off to the dress cutter's house to bring her delivery of cloth to the wealthy family. A bolt of shimmering material for the makings of a wedding dress strapped to her broad back had caught the dome's light as she had disappeared down an alleyway.

Paola looked beyond the newly forming canopy of small leaves on the trees to the top of the dome. Some she had met had called it "the sky", and others, "the ceiling". Today the field of blue was streaked with white and touches of grey, an early sign of rain.

How were equinii created? All she knew for certain was that her race, unlike humans, came out of metal capsules fully formed, able to speak and knowledgeable of their purpose. Males and females were made slightly different. She guessed that any physical variations assisted each one's purpose. Males were stronger and their extra flesh probably accounted for this gift. Females tended to be swifter, perhaps, because they were not so burdened.

She lightly ran her hand over the occupied hollow of her neck. Her gem pulsed warmly under her fingertips, sensing her distress and seeking to relieve it with small bursts of comforting blue energy. It had come into the world with her, an intimate, but cryptic, connection. Although it seamlessly joined with her flesh, its hardness only accentuated its nonbiological quality. Yet the gem was part of her, cared for her, and that was the one truth of her being.

She considered the anklets and bracelets that encircled her limbs. She had received them when she had emerged from her capsule. Two human males, each dressed in a single piece green garment, had helped her out of her vessel. That they were physically identical in appearance and speech had been the most notable thing about them.

Running her hands over the reflective surface of her capsule had been her first act, which had made them laugh. She had touched her aquiline nose and had caressed her ears, the image mirroring her actions. Her wide-set eyes had flickered with puzzlement until she had placed her hand over the gem on her neck. She had smiled in realization. Her tail and mane had lifted as she pranced and had sung, "Me!" The attendants had clapped and had agreed with her discovery. She had paused then to note the differences between them. Although much was the same, much was different. They had no tails, and their small, restricted ears had lain flat against their heads, not on top. But most importantly, their necks had lacked a gem that glowed green and radiated a pleasant warmth.

The ivory-walled room had contained a table upon which two boxes had rested. Tiring of her antics, one male had opened one of the boxes. From it, he and his counterpart had pulled out semicircles of metal. When the attendants had snapped them together on each of her limbs, the seams of the attachment points had vanished instantly. Once on, they could never be removed. That had been what they had told her as she had shaken her limbs, unhappy with the ornaments. But the purpose of putting them on her had been simply to get her used to them.

After receiving her bracelets and anklets, the attendants had argued over the second box, which had contained a collection of crystals similar to the ones Gemma had used for her demonstration. A female superior had suddenly appeared from another room to stop their quarreling with strong words. As they had not performed the task assigned to them efficiently, she had taken over the bestowing of her silk.

"Black for the Maze; blue for the infinite sky," the woman had recited.

She had known the word for Maze. But at the time, the meaning of the word "sky" remained as mysterious as the word "coffin" still did.

The superior had touched two crystals that matched the colors she had named to the surface of her gem. With a gentle whoosh, the kirtle had appeared on her body as if it had always been there, locked within her gem, a secret treasure only waiting to be freed. The woman had admired the design. "Very appropriate for our little Courier here, who will fly without the need for the wings she wears."

Her mind also held murmurs and visions from a time before she emerged from her capsule, something she had never told anyone. An expanse of water greater than any she had seen in the domes crashed against walls of rock. Living things flapped irregular limbs, which looked like the wings on her kirtle, to cross stretches of blue and white that had no limits; their scaly feet never touched the ground. Many strange beasts roamed hills of fine bleached sand, which shifted with each step, or hid among towering trees and boulders.

To fly meant "to soar above", like the creatures she had dreamt of before her emergence. The woman who had called forth her silks had told her that when she had asked. She had named the odd pattern as "pairs of wings", things that could raise one up into the air if one possessed them. But no animal or human in the domes she had ever visited had flown. The woman had also given her a gentle pat on her head while commenting to the males, "This one was born curious. Not surprising given her ancestry."

Indeed, she had always wanted to know why things were the way they were. And since the morning, she had burned with the need for answers to the questions Gemma had posed.

A rise in the air current ruffled her phantom kirtle convincingly, suddenly filling her with pride. The air moved more swiftly now and carried sounds from all over Dome Biblia. Someone sang a happy tune down in the town and dissolved her pleasant musings. Paola cocked her head and trained her ears towards the Library.

More laughter trickled back through the trees. The women and the child gathered up their possessions and began to walk back toward the town. The changing play of light skipped across the landscape as if it were her last opportunity to observe the passing of an ordinary day. She stayed until the dome began to dim.

She made her peace with the only decision she could have made.