Prolouge
My boots flexed upwards in my stirrups, my toes trying to get release from the tight, burning leather. My fingers knotted themselves into Maral's seemingly opaque gray mane nervously. A low nicker escaped the horse's throat, his chest heaving shakily as he did so.
My eyes were wandering frantically to find Kalep. This was his first year running the Appan Foot-he would be more nervous than me. Its mine too, and its nerve racking; you sweat. A lot. Uncontrollably. It's like you forget everything else but to stay on your mount. Some people even forgot that. I wouldn't. Not like some people- I wouldn't let the race;death, take me so easily.
It all went away at the shrill ringing of the starting whistle.
As his hooves drove us down the rock face, I couldn't help looking back. A black mare had made a misstep, and her footing gone a-wall. A sharp whinny exploded from her lips as she went tumbling down the cliff, a lanky blonde boy hanging on hopelessly to her mane. Even from where we were, you could hear the crunch of their bodies meet the rock, and feel their final moments in the ground's faint tremble. Disbelief ripped at my heart, but I had to keep going. I said a silent, tear-swallowed goodbye to whoever had lost their life that first stride of the race. Full realization of the fact we probably wouldn't make it out alive flooded over me.
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I ran my fingers through the thick, tangled gray mane of my stallion. His white head craned over my shoulder lazily, gowing heavy with sleep. I lulled him softly, his dark eyes sealing shut. He exhailed deeply, and I maneouvered myself out from under him. His head jerked back up, and he eyed me, his ears erect. As I exited his stall, he let out a low nicker, and returned to his relaxed position. I locked the stall door, the metal clanging togther loudly.
The old wooden steps leading up to the two-room house creacked and threatened to give way underneath my feet as I hastily pranced up them. As soon as I opened the screen door, the strong smell of garlic was clouded in the air. The atmosphere in the house was humid and warm compared to outside-Doreen was making soup. Her messy blonde hair was tied tightly behind her head as she stirred the concauction of vegetables. She smiled warmly at me, beckoning me over to her with a waving hand. She lifted a wooden spoon from the broth, and held it up to my face. "Blow." She ordered. I did. The soup rippled underneath my breath, and she practically stuffed it into my mouth. The whole of me began to thaw from the crisp winter weather outside."It's duck and onion." She informed pridefully. "Good?" I nodded my head vigorously, longing for a bowl. I reached over the stove, but she swatted my hand away. "It'll be ready in a while, can you just be patient, Lexin?" Doreen growled, her brow furrowing. "Sorry," I mumbled, trudging out from the main room into the sleeping quarters.
Two beds lay side by side, both small and uncomfortable. To the left of one was a wicker box where I kept my clothing. I leaped onto the creaky bed, my knees hitting the matress before anything else. I unzipped my vest, tossing it to the floor, and peeled a brown sweater over my head. I attempted to smooth my curly brown hair down, but it sprung back up effortlessly. I opened the wicker box, and pulled one of my mother's old shirts. The sleeves were a little too long, but I liked it. It smelled of horses and faded perfume. I flopped back onto the bed, my head hitting an airy pillow. I allowed myself to curl up in a wool blanket, and fall asleep until Doreen was finished preparing dinner.
My eyes flutterd open lazily. The smell of garlic and duck was no longer hanging in the air. I had probably slept through indicated soup-time. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized Doreen was already in bed, her breathing even, and chest rising and falling slowly. I stood up out of the cot, and wrapped the wool blanket loosly around my shoulders. I walked quickly into the other room, afraid if I didn't step lightly, I would make a loud creaking in the wood which could wake Doreen. I walked past the pot of cold soup towards the front door. Crickets seranaded me, as if to say, 'It's just you, Lexin.' No, I thought, You crickets are here with me, too. I opened the door, cold air nipping at my face.
The moon was barely visible, only a thin sliver of cresent to decorate the dark sky. Stars dotted the sky, painting beautiful pictures of once told stories. I never learned the constillations, but I knew they were there, and meant something to someone. A bare tree, old and twisting, was beckoning me to its roots. I walked light-footedly towards it, and curled up at its base. I entangled myself into the wool blanket, tucking my bare feet into it's warmth to avoid frostbite. Not that I cared, really. The contrast of the icy air and the warmth inside was comforting. I let the comfort of that contrast lull me back to sleep.
"Lexin." My name echod through my head. I wrinkled my nose, and burrowed deeper into my blanket. "Lexin!" The voice was louder, and a hand shaking my shoulder accompanied it. My eyes peeled open, the world around me fuzzy. The shape of someone was coming into focus-red hair in wild, thick waves dancing around his head, and warm brown eyes. Kalep. "Get up, why the hell are you out here, anyways?" He ordered, finshing with a laugh. "God, Doreen would have had a panic attack if she found you before I did," He continued before I had been given a chance to reply. He flashed a perfect smile, and grabbed my arm. He yanked me up off the dirt thoughtlessly, and turned towards the one-stall barn. I brushed off the dirt and frost from my pants, and left the blanket in it's spot. I ran up to meet him at his side, meeting my pace with his.
As we entered the barn, the sweet smell of cheap grain and winter hay filled my nose. The scent itself was almost enough to warm your body. When I turned, my eyes meet the warm brown ones of Kalep. They were different though; cold. Like little bodies frozen underneath ice, undiscovered. Something was wrong. Very wrong. "I need Maral." He choked. I looked over the boy's shoulder to see a gray-white head lift up, ears perked towads us in response to his name.
I couldn't poassibly imagine why he'd want my horse, he had a perfectally good one of his own. Old, but capable of virtually anything that Maral could acheive. He was fat, and short-legged compared to Maral. Maral wasn't overly tiny himself-but he was all muscle. Power and determination rippled from his breathes. But Kalep's horse could still do whatever he needed, could he not? "Kalep, why on earth wou-"
"I got a letter. From Marcus Williamson." He interrupted. My brown eyes widened, freezing like his own. Marcus only sent letters for one thing. Making eye contact, we both knew what was going to happen. He was going to have to race. If a family couldn't pay the living taxes, the state would send out a letter telling the so said that they must chose to take nothing but themselves and be transported to Government Tax houses-but they had another option. To race. The race through the Appal-Foot mountian range lasted around a week, but it varied. The weather was unpredictable, and the cliffs could easily end the lives of contenders. Most of the racers, in order to have a better chance of winning, obtained a horse. But in the years, anything copuld happen. If one won, they would have enough money to pay off the Living Tax payments, and sustain their payments. This is what Kalep wanted to do to avoid the penetentuary-like State Housing. His little sister, Lora, would never be able to handle it.
Although my face was cold and still, I could feel hot and sticky tears welling in my bottom lids. When I blinked, they rolled down my cheekes, and fell to the floor of the barn. I shook my head with a pitiful sniffle, and brought my sleeve up to wipe my wet eyes free of salty tears. My mother's sweater- which earlier smelled of horses and old perfume, now smelled like me. Smelled like my tears and dirt and tree bark.
I wanted to yell at him, but for what? He had no say in this. When his father had lost his job, it was all downhill from there. Instead, I flung myself at him, my arms hugging him tightly, pulling the leather of his vest into my chest. His hands were warm compared to the air as he wrapped his hand around my head, and let out assuring hush sounds. I didn't want to cry. I never cried. But today I was. I was closer to Kalep than anyone else in this world, and chances are, I was going to lose him. Many people didn't survive the race, let alone win, and honestly, I didn't expect Kalep to get that far. It was frightening to think I didn't have faith in him...
"Take Maral." I spat, almost choking on my own tears. The race was a week and a half away- January 14th, so he wouldn't have much time to train. Not much time to assure me he wouldn't die. I broke away from him, and ran towards my stallion's stall. He nickered to me softly as I slid open the door, and tied a rope around his leather halter. As I led him out, my eyes met Kalep's. I could see sympathy in them, I just couldn't tell what exactally for. I handed the rope to Kalep, and took one of my hands, rubbing it down Maral's neck. He was beautiful; a pale gray with occasional slate flecks. His mane and tail were dark gray, not at all matching him, but giving him beautiful contrast. His eyes were dark and wide, lines creased under his ovules, like an old man burdened with worry.
We had always been on the poorer side, only able to afford essentials. When I had first bought Maral, he was a knobby, stocky foal with no sense of left or right. You could say the same for me, as well. I was only ten, and didn't know much about what was important in reality. But to me, Maral was my world. I had worked every day after farm work at a Bugle's Bakery until I had enough money to buy something that was not essential. A beautiful, leather halter for Maral. Now I looked at Maral, over five years later, lend by Kalep's rope, and still sporting that halter. It meant a lot to me, the halter. Not exactally the item itself, but the work and determination behind it. I loved Maral so much, but I had to accept that I loved Kalep more, and there was a good chance my horse would never make it out of that race alive. Kalep needed him, and I had to respect that, but I had to keep the memories. They lied in the halter. I reached my hands up, and undid the buckle, and slid the leather halter over his ears, pressing it tightly to my chest. "Listen," I started. "Don't think about speed. You need to be smart. Take short cuts, and please, don't do anything too risky. I can't lose the one thing that matters..." I finished, wiping a final tear from my eye.
"Don't worry. I'll do my best to bring good ole' Mar back safe." He flashed a fake smile, which I could more than easily pick out.
"I meant you." I corrected him. "You can bring Barley over here, and I'll take care of him while your gone." I added. He as well, only had a one stall barn; or shed, I could say. He couldn't house both his horse, Barley, and mine. It was best Maral stayed with him if he was going to run him in the mountainous race.
"Thanks. That'll help," His eyes moved to his feet, pobably feeling bad about having to take Maral. I understood, though. Maral was his best chance of winning; saving himself and Lera from having to move to Government Tax Housing. From having to move to virtually prison.
When I fell back on my bed, I cried...again. I grasped the barely-filled pillow in my hands, and pressed my face into it to muffle my pathetic sounds. I just didn't want to lose Kalep. I pictured his beautiful face, an wild, dark red hair the color of an overcooked cherry, covered in blood, body laying uncared about somewhere deep in the Appal mountains. It pained me too much to think about it- but it practically invaded my brain, and refused to leave. Dispite the fridgid air, I tore off all my clothes, and wrapped myself deep in the sheets on my bed, self-threatening never to come out.
I woke, and in the morning this time, and wrapped the top-sheet loosly around my body. I trudged lazily into the kitchen to find Doreen hauling in a slab of meat. "Where did you get that?" I spat. Meat like that was not easily afforded. "We don't have that kind of money!" I whined. Thinking about Kalep, I didn't ever want to end up in his same situation, which honestly, in this economy, is quite possible.
"Calm down, Lexin. I paid for it." She eased my thoughts. We didn't need to spend money on anything unnecissary or essential to our sheer survival. If we wanted to remain in this house, we had to ration the bare minimim.