She did not expect the Akhal-Teke to know her name.
Anath must have told her, Impa decided, and was doubly surprised to be invited to walk with the long haired mare. She fell into step with Black Heart Machine without hesitation, however, and forced her own path through the snow beside her nimble companion. It did not bother Impa that the other mare was in her blind spot, on her left side. She had nothing to fear from the former Codebreaker. Together they traveled in silence and Impa was pleased to note their destination as they arrived at a spot that seemed to attract the natural leaders of the Peak: the summit. It was breathtaking at the mountain’s top which was part of the draw, as it allowed a horse to view the surrounding land from a height that was impossible elsewhere. It was also exhilarating here. The air always had a bite to it and the air was a bit thinner. Impa never felt more alive than when she stood this high up on the mountain. She often came up here to think.
It would feel odd to stand at the top in the company of any other horse, but with Black Heart Machine it seemed natural. The black mare was a fixture of the Peak, and now she was home. Impa’s ears turned to the side as she considered that. As much as she regarded Black Heart Machine with respect, the slender mare had left the Peak just like all the others. Given how poorly her last few meetings had gone with returning mares (and admittedly, her sour attitude had not helped matters), Impa opted for a different approach this time.
“While it is good to see you are back, it does remind me as it will remind others that you have been gone. Many mares seem to view this mountain as a temporary home, a place to sleep for a fortnight or two seasons before flitting away to their “real” lives again.” Her conversation with Mouse was still fresh in her mind, and the draft mare plowed on as she stared across the fields, dotted with tiny, indistinguishable horses, that rolled away from the Falls. “I, too, have left the Peak. I understand that sometimes the kind of thinking that needs to be thought cannot be done here, or while standing still. A mare needs room to roam. But,” she said, and snorted. “But the Peak should be more than convenient to these mares. We have fallen out of the eyes of the islands which, while keeping us safe from the obnoxious intrusions of certain stallions, has also kept us out of the minds of the mares who might need our help the most.”
Now she turned her head to bring the skinny black mare into view. “When I was a filly I never knew this place existed until I was nearly mature. I had high hopes of visiting it with my father, and instead he dumped me on Tinuvel and abandoned me to my fate. I had to fight my way here, and while I do not regret the experiences that made me who I am today, there are mares who have no idea what kind of danger they’re in.” Aliyana flashed through her mind, a mare who defended a rapist simply because he was the father of her child and that somehow excused him from his crimes. Maybe she had never been raped —Impa hoped that was the case— but how many other mares lived with the threat of that hanging unnoticed over their heads? If the Peak did not rebuild its name, they would not know they could find refuge on the mountain if life in a specific herd was too dangerous for them, and mares all over the islands would continue to think they had to stay in those situations because they had no where else to go.
“Are you here to stay, Black Heart Machine? If you are, I could use your help.”
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IMPAZIENZA