Water Pony

Chapters

Home
Gold
Diamond
Water
Paper
Blood
Salt
Steel
Family

Home

Kev crested the hill the just as the sun touched the horizon. He stood for a moment, taking in a view that could only be bested by scaling the mountain’s peak. Behind him, the trail wound its way down to the tiny encampment surrounding the mine on the eastern slope. The mineshaft was locked up, as were all of the tools. The rest of the workers had made this same trek home an hour ago while he put away equipment and filled out paperwork. Such was the duty of a manager: working harder and longer for almost no additional pay.

He spread his arms wide and let the remaining sunlight soak into his burly frame. In his mind, his shadow fell on the entirety of Minos. Any minute now, the ground would rumble as beautiful young minotaur women rushed forward to demand his hand in marriage, followed by dozens of business owners that needed his skills more than the blood in their veins.

Kev had been waiting on that stampede for five long years.

Just ahead of him, the trail sloped down a couple hundred paces before widening into the village’s main street. The small collection of huts and stonework buildings looked just as weather-beaten and homely as the mountain they were built on.

The sunlight made its slow retreat across the barren desert separating Minos in the east and Equestria in the west. Officially, the border was somewhere out in the sands. Unofficially, Kev was standing on the edge of minotaur territory, the mountain-side village closest to the pony lands and, in his estimation, the least hospitable.

The only thing worse than living on the sun-parched rocks was having to stare down at the oasis at the base of the mountain’s Equestria-facing side, the only patch of green for tens of miles. Even at this distance, Kev could see neat rows of crops and tiny moving specks that could only be the goats tending them. A few goats also were visible on the steep trail connecting the oasis and the village, most likely carrying back whatever overpriced goods hadn’t sold at the market today. They probably gouged more money out of the town in a day than he made in a week.

Kev turned and spit on the ground. “Money-grubbing, grass-eating…” And then he remembered who he was standing next to.

He knelt by a small pile of boulders and touched his forehead with two fingers. “Hey, Jerek. Come sunrise tomorrow, it’ll be a whole year since you fell down that mineshaft. Crazy, huh? Dana’s doing all right, considering she’s stuck living with her big brother.” He thumped his chest accordingly.

“Tam’s talking all the time, now. Can you believe it? That little guy is turning into a real minotaur; he eats at the table, hardly cries… He even looks like you.”

Shadows crept across the hilltop. Kev took one final look to the east. The fading daylight made the smokestacks of the more industrialized sections of Minos easier to spot. “Too bad Tam’s stuck living on the edge of nowhere. I keep trying to get myself transferred back to civilization, somewhere I can find a wife of my own. Dana and Tam could live with us; she wouldn’t have to work so hard around the house, there’d be more kids his age… all the same stuff I keep telling you.”

He stared at the tiny monument to his former brother-in-law for a moment longer. The tiny stones didn’t do justice to the hulking minotaur they represented, and offered little comfort for the wife and child left behind. “No matter what, I’ll keep taking care of them, Jerek. As long as I’m around, Dana and Tam won’t have anything to worry about.”

Kev sunk his teeth into a cooked chicken leg. Juice ran down his neck as he savored the taste. “Where’d you find meat this good, Dana?”

Dana was seated across from him at the table, picking at the other drumstick. She was half a head shorter than him, but every bit as strong. “Eh, it’s all in when you close the deal. You show up in the morning when the grass-eaters are setting up shop, they’ll think you’re desperate. Show up right as they’re packing up all their junk to carry back down the mountain… Maybe there’s a bird or two left that nobody could afford, a big fat one that nobody wants to haul back down the mountain.”

“So you were late to the market, is what you’re saying?”

“Yep. I bought the last bird they had, stuffed it full of butter, and threw it in the oven.”

He chuckled. “Works for me. You let Tam take an extra-long nap, didn’t you?”

“More like I convinced him to take a nap at all. He’s probably getting too old for them.”

“Hah, just like you. Mom always said you’d never sleep.”

Dana rolled her eyes. “She’d probably say it’s payback or something… Ugh. If I can find all the spices and squeeze some extra water out of the goats, maybe I’ll make some of that ‘good sleep’ stew she used to fill us up with.”

“I’m game. I’ll even test out the fermented ‘ingredients,’ make sure they’re potent enough.”

“You wish. Mom’s recipes are all mine; you want to eat, you bring in the money.” Her hands tightened into fists around the chicken bone. “At least the law lets one of us do that.”

Kev knew better than to say anything more. The gold wedding rings on Dana’s right and left hands, one of them Jerek’s, were scuffed and dented by years of hard labor, work that she could never earn a wage for.

Two small hands grasped the table’s edge, and Tam pulled himself onto the chair next to Kev’s. He’d worn the same childlike, near-perpetual smile for years, although the lengthening horns on his head spoke to his steady ascent towards maturity. He set his favorite toy, a little wooden bird that Jerek carved for him, on the table. His bright little face, so full of energy and love, beamed up at his uncle. “Play? Play with me?”

Kev look another bite. “After I’m done eating.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Tam held the bird overhead and leaped off the chair. “Fly! Fly!”

Dana sighed. “There he goes, getting all wound up right before bed…”

A loud knocking cut through the evening tranquility. Dana and Kev whirled around to see if Tam had run into something, but only found him pointing at the front door with confusion.

Kev walked to the door with the drumstick in hand. He took another bite and opened the door. “Yeah? Who is…”

He had to look down to see her. A pony, a creature no bigger than a goat, stood on his doorstep. Her pale blue fur and scraggly, blood-red mane couldn’t have looked more out of place in a town of goats and minotaurs. Kev stared at her, wondering what to do. His father would’ve chased her away with a club and a string of obscenities. His grandfather would’ve eaten her. His great grandfather would’ve eaten her and not gone to prison for it.

The pony stared up at him.

Kev took another bite of chicken.

Dana came to the door next. “Aren’t you going say someth… A pony?” She raised her eyebrows, the surest sign that she was intrigued. “What do you want?”

The pony spoke words that Kev couldn’t make sense of. Her language was beyond unintelligible; she twisted syllables in ways that his tongue couldn’t possibly manage. Even so, he caught Dana nodding her head as if she understood. “You can understand her?”

Tam grabbed Kev’s free hand and pulled. “All done? Play now? Please?”

The pony paused and gave Kev a nervous glance, as if she could sense some sort of murderous intention on his mind.

Dana nudged Kev away. “Go play with him, I’ve got this.”

Kev retreated to the living room and knelt on the floor next to Tam’s collection of playthings. Tam held up his bird and made tweeting sounds. Kev picked up a toy manticore and roared softly, even though his attention was still fixed on the intruder on his doorstep. What was a pony doing here? Could Dana really understand what she was saying?

The answer came less than a minute later, when Dana gasped. “You want to do what?”

The pony replied in her strange language, but Dana cut her off. “I… I can’t answer that. Come sit at the table and figure it out with Kev. Tam? Time for bed.”

The dreaded ‘b’ word instantly dispelled Tam’s smile. He burst into tears and threw himself on the ground in a dramatic way that only a child could. Dana scooped him up and gave Kev a bared-teeth look that made it clear that she was taking the easier of the two subjects.

As Dana carried Tam away, the pony walked through the living room with her head low and her ears tucked back. She climbed onto one of the table’s chairs, a feat that took twenty seconds and forced Kev to stifle a chuckle. Tam had an easier time scaling the furniture.

She sat there, in Dana’s chair no less, and looked right at him. Kev stared back at her for a minute, wondering how he could possibly break the language barrier he and he alone was trapped behind.

Dana shouted the answer down the hall. “There’s some paper and a pencil on the shelf over the sink!”

Kev’s eyes darted to the kitchen, the corner of his home’s common area that was, for him, largely unexplored. No matter how much Dana hated the total ban on women earning a living, she never shirked the duties that society left her with. Everything in the kitchen, from the plates stacked in the far left cabinet to the hand towels folded on the counter, was just where she wanted it. Challenging the placement of a single knife was likely to result in it being relocated to between his shoulder blades.

He sat down in his usual chair, directly across from the pony. She was giving the bony remains of their chicken dinner a wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare.

“Ponies are vegetarian, aren’t they?”

She nodded without averting eyes from the grisly murder scene.

Kev pushed the serving plate to the far side of the table and slid the paper and pencil to her. “Why can’t I understand the way you talk?”

She opened her mouth and, to Kev’s disgust, grasped the pencil between her teeth. The graphite tip dragged across the paper in surprisingly deft and deliberate strokes. Her lips were better at forming letters than his fingers were. After printing a neat line of text, she turned the paper around for him to read: Pony magic. My name is Morning Dew, and I have something very important to ask of you.

Kev snorted. “Pony magic… I don’t know what you’re even doing on this side of the desert. If this is some sort of charity thing, don’t bother asking. There’s nobody in this whole village with a coin to spare.”

She turned the paper around and wrote some more. I want to live in your village, and I need your help to do that.

“Heh, why? Have you seen this rock? We haven’t even got electricity. Just go back to Equestria. From what I hear, everything’s perfect over there.”

She shut her eyes for a moment, and wrote two more words. I can’t.

“Why not?”

She underlined what she’d just written. I can’t.

Kev sighed. “Dana would’ve moved there already if we had the money… I hate to break it to you—” he glanced at the paper to reread her name “—Morning Dew, but this is a lousy place to live, and a lousy place to… not be male. Minos law says you can’t own property, have a job, or even live with someone who isn’t a relative, so unless there’s goats in your family tree—”

And then he saw what she’d just written: I could live in your house if we were married.

He reread that last word several times before staring her down. She looked away and slid back in her chair.

“Is that a joke?”

She shook her head.

“Look at me!”

Her eyes slowly met his. In them he saw more fear than even her quivering frame could possibly convey. Maybe she thought he really was going to eat her. She took up the pencil again and wrote a new, shaking line of text. Marriage is the only way I can live here. I can’t go back to Equestria, and I don’t want to starve on the streets.

“Who says you’d be any better off in my house? I don’t need another mouth to feed, especially not a freeloading pony.”

Her next line of text wasn’t as shaky, even with Kev’s gaze boring into her. I’m not asking for a handout. I know the goats sell you your water, and that it isn’t cheap. I could hike down to the oasis every day and bring back enough water for all of us. That would more than offset the cost of my food. If you let me live with you, I would save you money.

Kev’s automatic refusal caught in his throat. The only thing worse than the price of water was its absolute necessity. The trail to the oasis was far too steep for wagons, or even walking on two legs while carrying a heavy load. The goats’ stranglehold on the market was unshakable, except perhaps by a pony earning her keep.

A smile crept onto his lips. He could almost see the money piling up, money that the goats would never get their grubby hooves on. He could buy better food. He could buy Tam better toys. He could even save up enough to buy a house somewhere in civilization. Life could get better in almost every possible way.

Then he looked across the table. The price of all that prosperity was sitting right there, and it was a steep one. What would his coworkers say? What would Dana’s friends say? How could he marry a four-legged creature he’d just met who couldn’t even talk to him, let alone give him kids of his own? His stomach churned just thinking about it.

He shut his eyes and pointed to the door. “Go.”

The pencil started moving again, but he shook his head. “Go. Just go.”

Everything was silent for a moment, and then he heard the pony slide off the chair. He opened an eye and watched her leave just as she’d arrived: head low, and ears tucked back.

Dana came running down the hall just as the pony reached the door. Judging by the faint crying coming from her bedroom, she’d cut story time short tonight. She grasped the doorknob and stared at Kev. “Wait. Don’t just throw her out.”

Kev sighed. “Dana, just let her go. Did she actually tell you what she wanted? She wants me to—”

“Yes, and I think you should.”

He stood and stormed over. “What? This is more than wrong, it’s sick!”

Dana’s fiery gaze met his own. “What if it was me and Tam?”

“It’s not. It’s a pony. She can suck it up and go back to Equestria.”

Morning Dew shivered.

Dana growled. “She said she can’t. Would you want me and Tam out there on the street? If you don’t take her in, she’ll starve, get eaten, or… ugh, maybe even end up with a goat. Besides, look at her.”

“I’ve seen her.”

Dana sighed. “Just look, okay?”

Kev rolled his eyes and looked down at their guest. Morning Dew was standing by the door, staring at the ground.

Dana put a hand on his shoulder. “Just pretend you’re looking at a minotaur. Does she look sad to you?”

“Yeah, but—”

Dana’s grip on him tightened. “Wrong. Look at her. Really look at her.”

“Hmpf. Fine.”

Kev knelt down, partly to escape Dana’s grasp, and scrutinized Morning Dew as best he could.

“Pretend she’s a minotaur. Pretend she’s me.” Dana said.

Morning Dew glanced up at him briefly, and then returned her gaze to the floor. In that instant Kev saw it: Dana was right, Morning Dew didn’t look sad. He’d just condemned her to face the night on her own and likely not survive the week, and she’d walked to the door of her own accord. She didn’t protest, she didn’t cry, she didn’t even look surprised. She wore the same frown now as when he’d first laid eyes on her.

Dana spoke in a much softer voice. “What do you see?”

“Fine, she’s doesn’t just look sad. She looks… broken. She looks like nothing good has happened to her in a really long time. She looks… She looks like you did right after Jerek died.”

“Now think about what she’s asking. No matter how horrible a husband she thinks you’ll make, she’s doing it to get away from something worse. Please don’t throw her out.”

Kev sighed. “This still feels sick, but…”

Morning Dew gasped. She looked at him with eyebrows and ears raised up high.

Kev nodded. “You want to live in my house, you live by my rules. When you’re not hauling water up the mountain, you’re helping Dana. When you’re not helping Dana, you’re staying out of my way; you’re not even sleeping in same room as me. The law says either of us can end the marriage at any time, and I will if I don’t like any part of it.”

She nodded repeatedly.

Kev glared at her and held up a fist. “And if you ever hurt Tam, you’re dead.”

She took a small step back, but nodded once again.

“We’ll go to the Magistrate tomorrow before I go to work. We leave at sunrise. Don’t sleep in.”

For the briefest of moments, Morning Dew smiled.

Gold

The night’s last rays of starlight streamed in through Kev’s bedroom window. He sat in bed, staring at the dusty furniture, the piles of laundry, and, most of all, the empty spot next to him. Never had he yearned for a wife sleeping next to him more than this moment, the eve of what promised to be a lonely and loveless marriage to the only unattached female in town.

He grabbed the bed’s second pillow and threw it on the floor. No one would be needing it any time soon, not unless he somehow got out of the mining business that brought him here and left the village, and the pony, behind. At least he’d been on hand to take in Dana and Tam after the accident; the spacious house that he’d dreamed of filling with progeny of his own had plenty of room for a displaced sister, an infant nephew, and now for the pony wife sleeping in the living room.

The door creaked open and Dana peered across the threshold. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah… I can’t stop thinking.”

“Me either.”

Kev moved to the edge of the bed and set his hooves on the floor. “This has to be a mistake. I know it’s legal and everything, but when was the last time you heard about an interspecies marriage? The guys at work won’t ever let me live it down.”

“You could always beat them up after work, or fire them if you can’t wait that long.”

Kev laughed. “You’d make a great manager.”

Dana knocked a fist against the wall. “Would if I could. I never even thought about the law until after Jerek, but now…”

He could almost hear her muscles tightening. “If the pony saves us enough cash, you and Tam could finally move to Equestria. Iron Will always used to say everyone is equal there.”

She let out a pained sigh. “Yeah. I feel so bad for what I did now… helping kick him out of the family. If I’d known what I do now…”

“He was on his way out the minute he started going by an Equestrian name to ‘help with his business.’ ”

“Heh, I wonder if it helped… or if he was even right? If Equestria is so perfect, how come Morning Dew doesn’t want to go back?”

“How did you understand her?”

“Huh?”

“I know you don’t know the pony language, so how come you could understand what she was saying and I couldn’t?”

Dana laughed and stepped closer. “You mean you don’t remember Iron Will going on and on about pony magic and how it’d make him rich?”

“You mean all those times that me and my buddies punched him until he shut up?”

“Pony magic can make their language understandable, but it only works if you want it to.” She gave him a hard sock in the arm. “You can’t understand her because, deep down, you don’t want to.”

Kev rubbed his arm and snorted. “Feh, whatever. It’s all business anyway. Either we’ll save enough to get us all out of here, or I’ll finally get a promotion back to the corporate office. They said this whole mining thing was a temporary gig from the start, something to prove I was real management material.”

“Kev, do you really believe that anymore?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s been five years since we all moved out here! Jerek always believed that ‘temporary assignment’ thing, and look where it got him!”

Kev stood. “It was an accident, Dana! It’s nobody’s fault!”

“Then how come they never gave me his last paycheck? How come nothing ever came of all that ‘compensation package’ talk?” She went to the window and stared out at the dimming starlight. “They sent you and Jerek out here to rot, Kev. Simple as that. They needed a couple low-level guys to do a job nobody wanted, and guess what? Nobody wants to take your place. The only way we’re getting out of town is if you quit, and the only way you can do that is if the pony helps us save a ton of money or if you leave me and Tam behind.”

“You know I’d never do that! I swore I’d take care of you two, so unless you want to get married again—”

“Nope. Nobody else is ever going to be good enough to be Tam’s dad. He’s stuck with just me and his Uncle Kev.”

Kev yawned. “And his aunt… pony.”

“Morning Dew.”

“Right.”

“You’re marrying her. Learn her name.”

“I know her name! Saying it just feels weird. Who names their kid after fog?”

“Ponies, apparently. Let’s just try to make this a good thing.”

He nodded. “Right. We get water for free now.”

“Minus the cost of her food… unless I use the extra water to start a garden. That’s even less money for the goats, complete win-win.”

“Hah! Like I said, you’d make a great manager.”

A sliver of sunlight shot through the window just as Morning Dew knocked on the open bedroom door. She looked at Dana, opened her mouth to speak, and closed it again when she saw Kev.

Kev thought to the pad of paper she’d used the previous night. Save that, he was stuck asking yes or no questions. “You can still back out.”

She shook her head.

Dana patted him on the shoulder and laughed. “Congratulations, Kev, you’re committed. You’d better get moving so you’re not late for work.”

Dawn had barely begun as they left the house. Kev looked over the deserted streets and the quiet huts. None of his neighbors were awake yet. The goat merchants probably hadn’t even started their morning ascent from the oasis.

Morning Dew walked beside him. The rapid cadence of her hoofsteps, the two extra beats that he’d always associated with goats sneaking up to sell him something, made his skin crawl. She didn’t didn’t say anything, of course, which only made it worse.

He decided to talk instead. “I work in the mine on the other side of the mountain. I’m the on-site manager.”

She glanced up at him briefly, too briefly for him to gauge her reaction.

“It’s not a great job, but it pays. That’s what counts, I guess… Dana’s husband used to work there, too. One day he slipped down an open mineshaft and… You can probably figure out the rest. The point is, I support Dana and Tam. That’s what I do. I’m marrying you because it’ll help get us all out of this lousy village.”

She nodded.

“I come home just before sundown every day. That’s about the time Dana has dinner made. Sometimes it takes longer if Tam keeps her busy. That’s what kids do, I guess.”

She nodded again.

He didn’t know what else to say, aside from the obvious. “That’s the Magistrate’s house right there.”

They’d reached the center of the village, the spot that, by law, belonged to the keeper of the peace. The Magistrate’s house and office was the nicest building in town, which wasn’t saying much. The brick and mortar walls, hauled all the way here from civilization, were emblazoned with the Minos national flag: a minotaur at the center of a green maze with no entrance or exit.

Kev pointed to the flag. “Just in case we ever forget who’s in charge… The Magistrate’s the reason the village is built here at all; you can’t have a minotaur settlement without one. That’s why we’re stuck up here instead of down there.” He pointed a thumb toward the oasis. “Because his house is here, we’re here too.”

Morning Dew pointed to the house’s front door. So much for small talk.

He rapped his knuckles against the door, right under the notice listing the official hours. By law, the Magistrate’s office was open for business from sunrise to sunset. Kev had no intention of letting the minotaur with the shortest commute in town sleep in.

“Come in,” a deep voice said.

Kev pushed the door open and stepped inside. A large wooden desk covered in tall stacks of paper and taller stacks of books consumed the majority of the front room. The walls were decorated with swords and axes, some ceremonial and others merely dusty.

The Magistrate was seated behind his desk facing them, hunched over a long roll of paper with a fancy pen in hand. Tall candles stood on either side of him, casting their feeble light on his delicate penmanship. Seeing a minotaur as big as him behind a desk doing paperwork was almost comic. “Who’s there?”

Kev cleared his throat. “It’s Kev, Your Honor.”

The Magistrate’s pen didn’t pause for a moment. “What do you want?”

“I’d… like to get married.”

“Hah, you and me both. That sister of yours still in mourning?”

Kev clenched his teeth. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Too bad. So where’d you find a woman?”

“She kind of found me. We’d like to get on with this, if that’s all right.”

“Don’t suppose your bride has a sis… ter…” Finally the Magistrate looked up from his work. He stared at Morning Dew for a minute, and then rose to his feet. From a standing position he could glare down at them both, not to mention almost brush the ceiling with his horns. “You think marriage is a joke? I could fine you just for coming in here and wasting my time.”

Kev made a fist. “I’m serious. Marrying a pony is legal, and I don’t want any trouble for it.”

The Magistrate stroked his chin. He leaned over to run his finger down a stack of papers, and plucked one out of the middle. “Heh, I won’t give you trouble. Everyone else in town… that’s your problem. Just sign this form.”

A legal form, dense with incomprehensibly small text, slid across the desk, and a pen quickly followed.

Kev grabbed the pen and scratched his name on the line at the bottom. Both he and the Magistrate looked on in mild disgust as Morning Dew did the same with the pen in her mouth.

After she returned the pen to the desk, the Magistrate flicked it onto the ground. “I’ll just add the cost of the pen to your taxes. Do you have your rings?”

“I don’t think we need to wear—”

The Magistrate tapped on the completed form. “Subsection eight. You both need to wear rings to make it legally binding. You wouldn’t want some desperate guy to think your woman is fair game, now would you?”

Kev groaned. “Any other surprises?”

“It’s your legal duty to protect her, and hers to care for you… all the stuff a ‘loving couple’ such as yourselves would do anyway.” He reached under the desk and retrieved a wooden box. “And what better way to start your lives together than by buying your wife a little present?”

Rings of every kind slid around in the box, some glittering with gemstones and others as drab and worn as the box itself. Kev picked out a plain gold band and rubbed his fingers against the cold metal. “Where do you get these?”

The Magistrate grinned. “My brother runs a little shop. I always keep some around for spur-of-the-moment couples like yourselves, not to mention guys forgetting birthdays and anniversaries. Buy something here for a fair price, or take your chances with the bleaters outside.”

Kev squeezed the ring in his fist. He’d pulled higher quality gold out of the mine with his own two hands. Still, he was going through with all this to save money, not waste it. “How much for two like this one?”

Morning Dew cleared her throat and held up her front left leg. A regular ring obviously wasn’t going to fit.

The Magistrate nodded. “Right, no fingers.” He fished around in the box and held up a slightly larger ring that narrowed down to a pinpoint. He twisted it in his fingers and the narrowest part split in two. “You’ve got two choices: wear it in your nose, or in your ear. Either way it’s going to hurt.”

She stared at the sharp metal tip with wide eyes. After a moment’s silent thought, she pointed to her left ear.

“Suit yourself. You can just take the rings, Kev, so long as you tell your sister how generous I am.”

Kev slipped on his ring. It felt pleasantly heavy, like it’d do a fair amount of damage if he were to suddenly punch the Magistrate in the face. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

“Just take care of your… bride, and be on your way.”

Kev looked down at the earring on the desk. “Don’t you have tools for that or something?”

The Magistrate slid one of his candles across the desk. “My brother’s the jeweler, not me. You want to get married, you do this yourself.”

Kev picked up the earring and tested the sharp point against his finger. He didn’t want to do this. Marrying the pony was weird enough without having to stab her in the ear. He held the pin over the candle until he could feel the heat in his fingers. “You sure you want to do this?”

Morning Dew took a deep breath and nodded. Her left ear, the one closest to him, stood up proud and tall.

Her ear felt like soft velvet between his fingers. “Are you ready?”

She gave the smallest of nods.

Kev took a deep breath of his own, and gave the pin a hard, fast push. A few droplets of blood, the same vibrant red as her mane, soaked into her coat as the earring clicked together. Much to his surprise, she didn’t cry, or even gasp. She was tougher than he thought.

“All done.”

Her ear flicked away from his touch in response.

Kev stood there for a moment as the irony soaked in. He was married. He was married to a creature that, by their mutual agreement, he’d never touch again.

Diamond

Kev stepped through the tunnel, touching the wall with his right hand and clutching his clipboard with his left. He’d passed four forks in the tunnel so far, none of which were labeled. Knowing the one correct path through a maze was a traditional source of minotaur pride, and the mine was a prime example.

The ringing of pickaxes could be heard in the distance. One more turn and he’d be at the head of the new shaft, the spot where he’d check in with his second in command just before the lunch break. Then he’d head back to his one-room office on the surface for a long, boring conference call on the only telephone for miles. At least his superiors wouldn’t be able to see him, his drooping eyelids, or his new jewelry.

Kev did his best to cherish each passing moment of the last normal workday he’d ever know. He’d hurried out of town as soon as they’d left the Magistrate’s house, pausing only briefly at the top of the hill. From that vantage point he’d seen all of the still-slumbering village, and the long procession of goats departing the distant oasis with merchandise piled on their backs. Below the village but well above the goats, Morning Dew was beginning her descent to the oasis for water. She was barely an inch tall at this distance, and yet he knew it was her. He could almost see the golden ring hanging from her ear. Tonight, all his subordinates would go home and hear it from their wives: their sicko freak of a boss married a pony, an herbivore that would’ve been a main course a few generations back. That was a problem for tomorrow. Today, all he had to worry about was holding his clipboard just right so the papers covered his ring finger.

“Morning, Boss!” someone shouted.

Kev looked up. He’d turned the last corner without even realizing it. The light on his helmet illuminated a long line of minotaurs near the far rock wall, glinting off their tools as well as the sweat on their backs. The rhythmic clang of metal on stone was broken only by the heavily loaded mining cart rolling towards him on squeaky wheels. The goat pulling it gave him a quick nod as he lumbered past.

Unlike the merchants, the goats that worked the mine weren’t so bad. At least the mining goats kept to themselves and seemed content to earn an honest wage. The fact that they barely spoke to the minotaurs was an added bonus.

“Err, Boss?”

Kev finally looked at his right hand minotaur and nodded. “Morning, Ezer. How’re things looking?”

Ezer held up a diamond the size of a fist and grinned. His being a half-head shorter than Kev, and not nearly as stocky, made the diamond look even bigger. “Things are good, real good.”

Kev almost dropped his clipboard. “Is that from the south shaft? I thought we’d tapped that one dry.”

“We hit a new vein of gems on the north face this morning. You can practically pick beauties like this up off the ground.”

“How deep do you think it goes?”

Ezer polished the diamond on his chest. “Eh, it’s impossible to know for sure this early on, but my gut says this is a big one. We’re going to make the monthly gem quota by tomorrow, easy. If we put more workers on it, we could break last year’s production record by the end of the month.”

Kev glanced at the production statistics on his clipboard, and then to the pickaxes striking the wall nearby, the wall that wasn’t glittering with gold like it used to. Nothing would liven up the afternoon conference call like getting to share good news, especially the kind that’d bring him closer to that promotion. “Is the iron ore production as bad as yesterday?”

“Yep.”

“How about copper?”

“The same.”

“Pull as many guys as you need. Abandon the least productive shaft if you have to. We’re mining gems first, ore second.”

“You got it, Boss.”

Nothing could erase Kev’s smile on the way home, not even the mad chatter of the merchants accosting him on his way into town. All he heard was the elated voices on the other end of the conference call when he announced the mine’s production spike.

A red scarf suspended from a pole danced in front of his face, and the goat woman wielding it shouted what little of Kev’s language she knew. “Hey! You buy? Nice color, look good on you! Maybe nice present for wifey?”

He pushed the scarf away. “No thanks.”

“She like different color, maybe? I give you good deal!”

He walked faster and stepped around a corner. Escaping one goat was easy enough; getting all the way to his house without getting fleeced was the real challenge. The town square up ahead was thick with portable tables arranged into a maze of commerce. Attention-getting flags swung at minotaur eye level, and every broken sentence was an invitation to buy something.

Kev stepped through the onslaught without giving the clothing and knickknacks on display a single glance. He only had the patience, not to mention pocket change, for one purchase. Somehow he suspected the goats knew this, and their hounding him for attention was just part of the eternal dance between their kind and his.

When the goats weren’t offering a sales pitch, they were whispering in their bleating language, or giving nearby minotaurs shifty glances. Worse still was their anonymity; there wasn’t a single goat that simply sold clothing or vegetables. The goat that’d tried to sell him a scarf today would be pushing tomatoes tomorrow, and would never do something as individualizing as offering her name. As far as the minotaurs knew, the merchant goats didn’t have names, and that just left making names up.

At last Kev reached the section of the market reserved for food. He hadn’t named all the goats, nor did he care to. Naming the few that he actually did business with regularly was more than enough. Behind the meat table stood his least favorite goat of all, an older one that he’d taken to calling Grey Beard on account of the long hairs dangling from his chin. Nameless or no, the goats had a hierarchy, and Grey Beard stood proudly at the top of it. None haggled like he did, or spoke as clearly.

Kev put his fist to his mouth and coughed, glancing around for his other two least favorite goats in the process. Tuft Head wasn’t anywhere to be seen, which was bad news. As clear as Kev could figure, he was Grey Beard’s grandson or cousin. The amount of trouble and petty crime that he was suspected of could only be explained away, and tolerated, by him having some sort of familial relationship with the big boss.

One Eye, meanwhile, was prowling around the edge of the marketplace, giving Kev and every other minotaur in sight a seething, hostile glare from his one good eye. If Grey Beard was the goats' boss, then One Eye was the enforcer, the insurance against theft and general troublemaking. Kev couldn’t fathom how he’d earned that scar across the left side of his face, unless he was old enough to know the days when minotaurs still hunted his kind for meat. He probably wasn’t that old, but then again Kev found it hard to tell when it came to goats.

Grey Beard smiled at Kev, showing off his yellowing teeth. “Looking to buy some dinner? Maybe some meat?”

“If the price is right. Got anything left?”

Grey Beard ducked under the table and brought up a cage containing two black rabbits. The rabbits retreated to the cage’s far corner as soon as they saw him.

Kev put his face against the cage. His own arm had more meat on it than these little fur balls. “No chicken?”

“Sorry, all out.”

“Dog?”

“Dog is too expensive. Special order only. You bring the money, I find you one in a few days. For right price, I even find you manticore.”

Kev sighed. Rabbit meat made for a lousy surprise to bring home, even if it was to celebrate the success in the mine. “How much?”

“For you, a special price. Twenty coin for the pair.”

“Pfft. They don’t even weigh as much as twenty coins.”

“Eighteen, and I throw in small jug of water. Make family some rabbit stew. Delicious.”

Kev hid his smile. “I’ll pass.”

“You sure? This deal not be around tomorrow. Good deal on rabbits, very very good with water.”

“Hmm. Ten for the rabbits plus the carrots you were feeding them. You can keep the water.”

Grey Beard was silent for a moment, probably to contemplate Kev’s idiocy at passing up water at such a good price. “Fifteen.”

“Deal.”

Kev dropped the coins on the table, and Grey Beard offered up a battered wooden mallet. Nothing kept meat fresh like letting it breathe right up until it was sold.

Kev shook his head as he opened the cage door. “I’m not taking them home flattened.”

Grey Beard shrugged. “How you eat them, that your business. Not refund if they bite or run away.”

The first rabbit’s neck snapped between Kev’s fingers with a dull crunch, just like his father taught him.

“That won’t be a problem.”

Even with his stopover in the market, Kev made it home right on time. The sun touched the horizon just as he opened the front door and stepped inside. “I’m home!”

Dana didn’t move from her spot in front of the stove, or even turn around. She simply raised three fingers overhead. “Great. Dinner’s in three minutes.”

Something was missing. Kev looked down at his leg. Why wasn’t Tam attached to it? “Tam?”

Laughter drew Kev’s attention to floor nearby. Tam was doubled over on the floor while Morning Dew hid her face behind her front legs. She popped up and made the pony equivalent of a ‘boo’ sound, which made Tam laugh even harder.

The game ceased as soon as Morning Dew caught sight of Kev’s shadow. She gasped and backed away before even bothering to look up. Her ears-flat look of surprise wasn’t that different from the rabbits, and vanished just as quickly when Tam lunged forward to hug her. She jumped at his embrace, but gently reciprocated, even though her eyes never left Kev.

Tam turned to hug Kev next. “Home! We play! All play!”

“Uh… yeah. Why don’t you go wash up for dinner first? We’ll play after.”

As Tam ran off, Kev tried to picture himself. What had Morning Dew so nervous? It wasn’t like he was holding her best friend’s severed head. Her gaze traveled down, and he realized that, to her, he probably was. He tossed the rabbits onto the table and held out the bundle of carrots he’d bought for her. Hopefully his buying her food wasn’t too weird; maybe letting Dana do that would be best.

Morning Dew’s eyes never left the rabbits. Did she think she was dessert?

“We don’t eat intelligent animals. If something has hooves, it doesn’t go on the dinner table.” He wouldn’t mention the mere handful of decades that that law had been on the books, and the fraction of that time in which it’d been fully enforced.

She looked up at him, and her frown deepened.

“The rabbits died quickly, if that helps… Meat is just something minotaurs eat; it’s the only way Tam will grow up big and strong. You don’t have to eat it, you don’t have to like it, you don’t even have to sit at the table with us if you don’t want to… There’s going to be meat, though. That’s just how it is. I… I bought some carrots for you, if that’s all right.”

Kev’s thumb rubbed against the ring on his finger. He should’ve let her have a longer stare-down with the chicken bones last night; she could’ve backed out without getting her ear pierced.

She took a deep breath and, to his great surprise, nodded her assent. She cradled the carrots under one of her forelegs and retreated to what had apparently become her corner of the house. Two hefty water jugs connected by a yoke stood by the front door, and next to them was a bed made of spare blankets and hay. Somehow Kev had imagined ponies sleeping in nests or burrows, as opposed to the genuine bed she’d constructed. How she’d put together what looked like a smaller version of his own bed without any fingers was beyond him. He’d just have to add bed-making to the growing list of pony mysteries, alongside language barriers, naming conventions, and why Morning Dew had a picture of the sun rising over a hillside just above each of her back legs. Was it a tattoo? Was it some sort of rite-of-passage thing, like a young minotaur getting their first nose ring?

Morning Dew set the carrots on her bed and glanced back at him. Her fear was gone, and that just left mutual discomfort from Kev’s staring. He turned away and picked up the rabbits. “Hey, Dana, I’ve got some good news.”

Dana’s eyes didn’t leave the stove. “It’s not going to hold up dinner, is it?”

“No, but—”

“It can wait until we’re all sitting down. Seasoning this dumb stew is killing me.”

Kev started to salivate. “Stew?”

“Yeah. Morning Dew brought back way more water than I normally buy, so tonight we’re having chicken stew.”

“That beats gnawing on the bones from last night.”

Dana dipped a spoon into a tall pot and held it out. “Make yourself useful and taste this. All I taste is pepper now.”

Kev took the spoon and stuck it in his mouth. For a moment he felt like a kid again, sitting around the dinner table with Dana and his parents with a steaming bowl of something delicious in front of him. “It’s perfect, Dana.”

“Just tell me the truth. I’m not going to kill anybody if it’s bad.”

“Seriously, it's great.”

Dana finally turned away from the stove. “That’s a relief… Maybe tomorrow I’ll try making some bread to go with it.”

“Bread? We haven’t had bread in—”

She grinned. “Ages. I know. That’s what happens when have to choose between washing Tam’s face and baking stuff.”

Kev stepped closer and lowered his voice as much as the boiling stew would allow. “So… Things are going okay with her?”

Dana patted him on the back. “Things are great, Kev. She brought us water like she said, and Tam’s been having a blast with her. Thanks for not scaring her away with those dead mice… or are they supposed to be rabbits? They’re so small it’s hard to tell the difference.”

Kev folded his arms. “Last time I bring you a surprise.”

“Good. I’m your sister. Bring your wife something nice instead.”

“I did. I got her some carrots.”

“Great. Maybe we can make a decent husband out of you after all.”

Water

Sounds from a dozen different cities echoed in Kev’s ears. Through his earpiece he heard trains pulling out of one station and arriving in another hundreds of miles apart. What he heard most of all was other minotaurs, of course. The other members of the so-called Executive Review Board, one in each of the corporation’s offices scattered around the country, were making one noise or other: breathing, coughing, or writing down a note. Maybe the phone’s connection was just too good, or he wasn’t paying enough attention to who was actually speaking.

The latter couldn’t be the case. If he didn’t want to pay attention, he’d find something else to stare at besides the sheets of paper spread out on the desk. The mine’s office, his office, was a single room that housed a few file boxes, office supplies, and the one piece of modern technology that corporate headquarters had blessed them with. Kev didn’t know what half of the telephone’s buttons did. All he knew for sure was what time it was supposed to ring, and what sort of data he’d need to present to the executives on the other end of the line.

He held up a pencil and tried to gauge the time by the shadow it cast. The sunlight coming in through the left hand window didn’t do much good, even though it seemed to be drilling right into his eyes. In a few hours, it’d dip below the mountain peak, leaving a view of the winding trail that led to the village. The view out of the right hand window was just the opposite. The mountain’s shadow practically hid the dirt road that led back to civilization, save for the line of telephone poles that traveled alongside it.

Kev’s ears perked up at the sound of his name, or rather the name of his division. “All right, let’s hear from the western mining operation and call it a day.”

Kev smiled. “I’ll keep it short then, Sirs. Gem production has continued to skyrocket over the past week. By the time I submit the quarterly report, we’ll have broken every record this site has ever had. I’m confident that we’ll have shipped out a year’s worth of raw product before our last shipment leaves the refining factories.”

“Excellent news, Mr. Kev. I’m assuming metals have continued to stagnate?” It didn’t matter who was speaking; as the junior member of the board, Kev could refer to them all as Boss.

“Yes, Sir. I have our best prospectors exploring options to increase ore production, but for the time being I’ve concentrated our excavation teams on gems. Production is up, and so is morale. The only workforce statistic that’s gone down is on-site accidents.”

Someone else on the line cleared their throat. The tone of voice alone identified him as the executive from corporate headquarters, the boss of the bosses. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say that your performance has been stellar, Mr. Kev. You’ve taken our least productive operation and really made it boom. We’ll be expecting great things from you in the future, and I’m sure your year-end performance evaluation will reflect that.”

Kev jumped out of his seat and pumped his fist in the air. “Thank you, Sir.”

He practically skipped out of the office after the call ended. He held his clipboard in his right hand and spun the ring on his left with his thumb.

Ezer stood a few feet away by the equipment racks. “Hey, Boss?”

Kev walked over and slapped him on the back. “Ezer! How’re things looking down there?”

“Fine, fine. I’ve… I’ve gotta ask you something.”

Kev smirked. He’d had this same conversation more times than he could count. “Yeah?”

“Is it true? Did you really… marry a pony?”

“Yup, a week ago.”

“I get that you were the only single guy in town and everything, but… What I mean is…”

Kev savored Ezer’s pauses, the little moments of silent begging to keep his job and his teeth. “Relax. Just say it.”

“What’s it like? What’s… she like?”

“I wouldn’t know. It’s all business, Ezer. She brings water back from the oasis, helps my sister out around the house, and sleeps in her own bed. That’s all it is.”

Ezer gasped. “Wait, the water part is true? I had an easier time thinking… never mind. N-not that there’s anything wrong with… I mean, if she’s bringing up water, you must be saving some serious cash.”

Kev held his ring up to the light. “Yup. Sooner or later I’m buying my way out of this dump, assuming corporate doesn’t relocate me first thanks to that new gem vein. She’s like a good luck charm.”

“But what about what everyone else thinks?”

“Who? Everybody else in town already figured it out. At first, I thought they’d think what you did, but they get it. They get that it’s just about her having a place to stay. You know the best part? They’re jealous. They’re jealous that I’m getting water for free.”

“But what about—”

“The merchant goats? I’ve never seen ’em so angry! It’s great. As for the others—”

The squeaky wheels of a mining cart drew their attention. As the cart left the darkness of the tunnel, sunlight bounced off the small mountain of gems it contained. The goat pulling the heavy load shot Kev a smile as he approached them, and spoke in his native language rather than that of minotaurs. “Hey hey, Pony Boss. Things good?”

“You know it. What do you say we quit a couple hours early?”

The goat held up a hoof, which Kev bumped with his fist. “I like the sound of that! I’ll tell my boys down in the shaft.”

“Thanks.”

Ezer stared at the departing goat with an open mouth. “You understand goat?”

Kev laughed. “Like I said, I’ve got a good luck charm. I guess her pony magic is rubbing off on me. Comes in handy when the merchant goats are whispering to each other about how much cash they think I’m carrying.”

“But… what’s corporate think?”

“Huh? They don’t know. It’s none of their business.”

“It will be, if you get relocated like you’re saying.”

Kev paused. “Why?”

“Look, Kev… I get that things are going good here, but what happens if you move to the big city where the water comes out of a faucet? What’s your water pony going to do for you then? What’re your neighbors going to think? What about your boss? If the corporation thinks you’re some sort of… What I mean is, they’re not going to want you on their board of directors or whatever you’re after.”

Kev’s thumb left the ring. “My brother in law died in that mine. My sister is stuck raising his son on her own, and she shouldn’t have to do that in a place like this. There’s no schools here, no playgrounds… no future besides inheriting his dad’s pickaxe. I’m not doing this to climb the corporate ladder. I know that’s not what it sounded like a second ago, but… I’m just trying to get my family off this rock.”

“Does that include the pony?”

Kev made a fist with his left hand and felt the ring press against his skin. “I guess I haven’t figured that out yet.”

The walk home felt longer than normal, even if Kev was making it two hours ahead of schedule. He didn’t want to think about what Ezer said, especially when thoughts of home came so easily. Maybe he’d stop at the market again today just to feel the heat of Grey Beard’s glare. Maybe he wouldn’t even bother with celebratory meat; he’d just buy Morning Dew some apples. As clear as he could tell, she liked those better than vegetables, but then again she didn’t make such things easy to discern, at least to him. She never ate at the table with them, and would only touch produce and baked goods, the later of which Dana had made three times this week. Morning Dew might have asked her for homemade bread, for all he knew. She and Dana seemed to have no trouble talking, unlike himself. Somehow, his being able to understand the goats didn’t equate into understanding the creature that’d gifted him with the ability.

Ezer’s words came to him again. Money wouldn’t change the law, and nothing short of divorcing Morning Dew would get him a real wife, the kind that could bring children of his own into the world. Still, he didn’t know what Morning Dew had planned; she might get fed up with that grueling daily hike and leave tomorrow.

Tam would be crushed if she did. Every day when Kev got home, he’d find them playing together. If it wasn’t peekaboo, they’d be engrossed in his toys, or she’d be trotting around the house with him balanced on her back.

Not today, though. Today he’d be home early, hopefully before Morning Dew. Today he’d have Tam all to himself for a little while. They could play and goof around just like they used to. Then she’d come home, and the two of them would play and go to bed. Morning Dew’s penchant for turning in so early at night all but ensured she and Kev never interacted. Even if she could speak to him, she’d be asleep before he and Dana finished eating dinner and out of the house by the time he woke up.

Kev strolled past the Magistrate’s brick palace and directly into the heart of the market. Grey Beard’s eyes were on him immediately, this time from behind the pottery table. The usual din of barely intelligible sales pitches died down as the goats exchanged bleating whispers that he wasn’t supposed to understand.

“That’s the one, the min with the water pony!”

“Can we get him thrown out?”

“Think he’ll get a baby pony out of her?”

“Maybe a min and a pony make a griffon!”

“Can we charge him more?”

“Hah!”

“Get the boss! He’s headed for the food!”

Grey Beard pushed his way through the crowd and beat Kev to the fruit stand. The young goat who’d been running it shrank down and disappeared as his elder approached.

Kev merely smiled. “I’d like some apples.”

Grey Beard clicked his tongue, and One Eye appeared next to him. “Apples, you say?”

Kev nodded. “Apples.”

Grey Beard moved his hoof over the produce on display, and picked up a small apple covered in bruises. “Here you go. Fifty coin.”

“No.”

“Fifty coin. Want water to go with it?”

Kev locked eyes with the goat. “I’ve got twenty coins for you, and I want five apples. That’s what everyone else pays.”

Grey Beard shrugged. “Market change day to day. Today this apple cost you fifty coin. Tomorrow, maybe a hundred. Maybe it only forty if you buy some water.”

“Are you married?”

Grey Beard gave a quick, stern nod. “Yes. Big family. Need coin to feed them.”

“Me too. My wife only hauls in one thing, but she’s dying to branch out. She’d love to bring up enough soil to start growing our own food, but I’ve been against it. I wouldn’t want to hurt your business, after all.”

“She grow meat, too?”

One Eye gave Kev a smile, which was somehow more sinister than his usual sneers.

Kev smiled back. “Heh, ponies are supposed to be amazing gardeners, so who knows? If not, we could always start selling whatever we don’t eat. Maybe next time I’ll be selling apples to you. You like apples, right?”

Silence hung in the air.

Grey Beard set his hoof over the apple. Juice squirted across the table as he slowly crushed it. “Bag up apples.”

One Eye gaped. “Eh? You mean we still sell—”

“Bag up apples! Five apples for twenty coin. You get smashed one free. Sign that we not upset good market if you don’t.”

“It’s always a pleasure doing business with you two.”

One Eye held up a menacing hoof. “I keep watch on you, min. My horns have ‘business’ with you if—”

Grey Beard’s glare silenced him. “No talk. Go patrol.”

A tinge of red at the edge of Kev’s vision caught his attention. Morning Dew’s vibrant mane was unmistakable at any distance. “Can we make this fast?”

He hurried out of the market, much to the goats relief, if their whispers were anything to go by. Morning Dew was one row of houses over, ears flat against her temples and head bowed so low that her mane brushed the ground. As she hurried along with her water jugs swaying in time with her quick steps, a short and spindly goat followed closely behind.

Tuft Head’s shadow crept up behind her, and his bleating words closed the gap. “Slow down, Water Pony. You don’t need to run. What’s the big hurry? Need to pay your rent to the two-legger? You should come live with me. I’ve got better ways to make you swea—”

Kev leaped a fence and burst through a gap in the huts. His hands closed around Tuft Head’s neck a moment later. Inside of a heartbeat, the namesake mass of hair on the goat’s head was pressed against the ground. “You want to fly back to the oasis, bleater?”

Tuft Head opened his mouth, which only prompted Kev to squeeze harder on his windpipe as he bellowed in his ear. “That’s my wife you’re messing with, goat! It’s my legal duty to protect her, and if anybody so much as hurts her feelings, I’m mounting your horns over my front door, and your pelt under it!”

Kev didn’t wait for some form of affirmation. He’d sooner rip the goat’s tongue out than listen to him beg for mercy. Instead he stood, gave him a kick in the stomach, and turned away before the urge to kick him again took over.

“You okay, Morn—”

Morning Dew was gone.

Kev stormed into the house a few minutes later. The empty kitchen and toy-free floor meant Dana and Tam weren’t home; they were probably visiting a friend. Morning Dew was in her corner of the house, straightening the lines of potted flowers that now flanked her bed, a two-second job she apparently intended to spend an hour on, if her half-hearted nudges and rapid breathing were any indication. Hiding her agitation wasn’t going to work, not this time. Kev had grown used to her habitual frowns, seeing her eyes dart around and her hooves tremble was more than he could take.

He paced back and forth between the door and the kitchen table. “I’ll kill that goat if he ever bothers you again! I don’t care if it lands me in prison, nobody messes with my family! If they ever…”

His fury vanished when he caught sight of her. Morning Dew had curled herself into a ball in the corner his pacing had inadvertently boxed her into. Her tail obscured most of her face, save for one tear-streaked eye. If she was flustered before, nothing short of abject terror could describe her current bout of shivering.

Seconds passed before Kev found his voice. “I’m… I’m sorry if I scared you. I-I meant what I told the goat, though. If somebody out there has a problem with you, they’re going to have a bigger one with me.”

She steadied herself enough to nod, although Kev couldn’t see that as a sign of willing agreement, not with her watching him with the same mortal fear as Tuft Head. She mumbled a few unintelligible words, and wiped her eyes.

Kev backed away, and remembered the bag he was still holding. “I… I bought you some apples. I’ll just leave them here on the table and… go somewhere else. I won’t bother you anymore. I swear I was just trying to protect you.”

He walked into his bedroom and shut the door as quietly and gently as possible. Being home two hours early wasn’t as nice as he’d anticipated.

Night eventually came, but sleep didn’t. Kev lay awake in his bed with nothing but the peeling paint on his ceiling to aid his contemplation. No matter how many times he replayed the day’s events, he couldn’t figure out where it’d all gone wrong. He’d been on the winning and losing ends of plenty of schoolyard fights, and no bystander, male or female, ever ran away scared. He’d watched Dana bloody the face of a moron that hadn’t gotten as lewd as that goat, and cheered her on. What was wrong with ponies? The race that controlled night and day couldn’t possibly be that passive and spineless.

He should’ve asked Dana about it. She could’ve talked to Morning Dew for him, maybe even gotten him a few answers. Instead he’d let time roll on. He’d put on a smile when Dana and Tam came home, and watched the typical evening play out in front of him. Now here he was, on the verge of starting another workday with no sleep and a head full of questions.

What was he supposed to do? Did Morning Dew actually want to be victimized? Did ponies have some obscure code of conduct when it came to defending their spouses? What was wrong with just hitting the guy?

The only question Kev did have an answer for was Ezer’s: of course Morning Dew was part of the family. He’d known that the second he’d rushed in to ‘save’ her. Even if she wasn’t the wife he wanted, she was a good addition to the house. She was Dana’s helper and Tam’s playmate. She made their lives easier, and the money she saved him each and every day had the potential to change everything for the better. Inside of a year, they’d be able to move.

Something stirred in the silent house. Kev’s ears perked up. Was that Dana coming to tell him what he’d done wrong or, more likely, grill him until he figured it out himself?

His ears followed the sounds of hooves approaching his bedroom door. No one turned the handle. No one knocked. Instead, a piece of paper slid under the door, and the hooves echoed off into the distance. The house’s front door had opened and shut by the time Kev got out of bed, and the first rays of morning sunlight shone through the window as he held up the paper. On it were two words in Morning Dew’s careful script: Thank You.

Kev left for work early. He excused it as making up for coming home early the day before, rather than his desire to sit on top of the hill and watch the day begin. The sun bore down on the world as he sat there, particularly on the path to the oasis. An inch tall Morning Dew drifted in and out of his sight as the path led her through light and shadow. He saw her do this every morning: as he walked to work, she did the same. They went about their parallel lives, meeting only briefly under one roof in the evening, just enough contact to acknowledge each other’s existence.

The tiny pony in Kev’s sight paused. He squinted to try to make up for the distance. If she was hurt or stuck, he wouldn’t be able to tell. The goats were hours away from her, so it wasn’t them. “What are you doing down there? What’s wrong?”

Morning Dew lifted one of her front legs and waved.

All he could do was return the gesture.

Paper

Another week slipped by with little fanfare. Kev sat at the dinner table while Tam and Morning Dew went through their normal bout of pre-dinner play. Words flowed between the two of them, only half of which Kev could understand. Occasionally she’d glance his way, but never long enough for him to gauge her mood. Whatever she was thinking at this moment was as big a mystery as why she’d wave to him from the trail but still get scared if he came too close.

Dana set a plate in front of him. “Dinner’s ready.”

The smell of cheese, cooked vegetables, fresh bread wafted past Kev’s nose. Noticeably absent was the chicken he’d seen her chopping up earlier. “No meat?”

Dana rolled her eyes and cocked her head towards his wife. “It’s not for you, genius.”

“Then why’re you—”

“Because waiting for you to think of something on your own is getting painful.”

“Oh yeah? What do you call me buying her fruit and vegetables all the time?”

“Old news. ‘All the time’ isn’t cutting it. It’s time for something bold.”

Kev pushed the plate away. “She’s still a pony, Dana. It’s not like I’m trying to ask her out on our first date.”

Dana pushed the plate back. “Yeah, it’s worse. You’ve been married to her for two weeks and you still can’t understand a word she’s saying.”

“I don’t get it. I understand the goats just fine, so why not her?”

“Why don’t you take this plate over there and try to find out?” She turned to Tam next. “Tam, do you want to help mommy finish up dinner?”

Tam’s smile got even bigger. He dropped the toy that he and Morning Dew had been playing with and ran over. “Yes! Yes I help!”

Dana gave Kev one more look, and nodded to the plate she’d left him.

Kev sighed. If Morning Dew never trusted the food out of their kitchen again, it wouldn’t be his fault. He’d blame Dana when she starved to death.

Morning Dew’s eyes got wide when she saw him approaching. She stepped backwards until she reached her own bed.

He walked to the neighboring wall, sat on the ground, and held out the plate. “Here’s… Here’s your dinner. Looks like Dana made bread again.”

She took a few slow steps forward and held out a foreleg for the plate. The exchange took less than a second, and at no point did hoof meet hand. She nodded her thanks and retreated to the bed. When he didn’t leave, she picked up the slice of bread and took a bite without ever taking her eyes off him.

The sounds of Tam and Dana laughing in the kitchen made Kev shift and frown. Once again, he was missing out. “So… I can understand the goats now. I guess that’s your magic.”

She nodded.

“Sorry I didn’t bring home any apples today… Half the time they’re all gone by the time I get to the market.”

She shrugged. He couldn't tell if that was a sign of indifference or condolence.

“If you want some other kind of fruit or vegetable, just let me know… I guess you could write me a note or something… If you want me to stop buying you food, that’s fine too. I’m just trying to… you know…” He didn’t know how to finish. ‘Be a good husband’ didn’t sound right. ‘Be nice’ didn’t either.

She stared at him. For better or worse, he had her undivided attention.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m trying to make things as nice as I can for you. I know I’m not great at it or anything, but… I’m trying. I want us to be able to talk.”

She nodded and softly spoke her strange words, words that he was beginning to think he’d never understand.

He hung his head and sighed. “I guess I still need to try harder.”

Kev stared out his office window. Late afternoon sunlight bathed the mountainside, save for the shadowed entrance to the mine. Neglected paperwork sat in front of him, and the phone’s plastic cord was curled around his finger. “Why can’t I understand her? I swear I want to.”

He wouldn’t get to go home for another hour, not unless he found a reason to close the mine early again. Excusing the last premature closure was a lot harder to do on paper than he’d expected.

The office’s flimsy door rattled as someone knocked on it. Kev jumped up, slid his papers into a neat stack, and ran for the door. Nobody ever bothered him in the office, not unless something was wrong.

The tall, slender minotaur on the other side of the door wasn’t one of his workers, and couldn’t possibly be mistaken for one. Instead of a helmet and a reflective jacket, he wore a suit and tie. Instead of a pickaxe, he carried a briefcase. “Good afternoon, Mr. Kev.”

Kev stepped back. “Mr. Tanner, from… corporate headquarters? What brings you all the way out there?”

Tanner stepped into the office and dusted off his jacket. “I was in the area, and decided it’d be best to deliver a bit of news in person. May I?”

It took Kev a moment to notice Tanner’s pointing hand. All he could think of was the pile of ties gathering dust in his closet, the reflective orange vest he was wearing, and the miles of lonely road between them and civilization. There was no such thing as ‘just being in the area’ here, unless Tanner had a habit of talking to cacti. That didn’t matter though; what mattered was his pointing at the office’s single chair.

“Oh, right. Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll stand.”

“Thank you.”

Tanner sat down and set the briefcase on the desk. He neither smiled nor frowned. If he was pleased that Kev kept a tidy office, or displeased that he hadn’t handed him a glass of imported water, his expression gave no indication. He set a hand on his briefcase and studied the collection of jeweled rings on his fingers. “I’m not in the habit of sugarcoating things, Mr. Kev. I’m not paid to mince words.”

“That’s fine. I’m sure you’ve got a schedule to keep.”

One of the briefcase’s twin clasps snapped open. Tanner’s eyes moved to the second clasp. “Corporate has decided to close the mine, effective immediately. All non-executive personnel, which in this case only excludes you, are being let go.”

Kev legs almost gave out. “What? B-But our gem production is better than ever! Every time I talk to corporate, they tell me what a good job we’re doing out here!”

The second clasp snapped open, and Tanner nodded. “Yes. That’s all true. Unfortunately, your success isn’t aligned with the rest of the economy. The market for gems is crashing, Mr. Kev. Metals are driving our country’s industrial future, and this mine’s ore production has been steadily falling for years. The Finance Committee conducted an extensive evaluation, and determined that shuttering the mine is the most financially prudent move.”

“But… The village… The mine is the only reason anyone even lives here. All my workers… What are they supposed to do?”

The briefcase creaked open. The padded interior was lined with white envelopes, each one with a handwritten name on the front. Tanner thumbed through them until he found one with ‘Kev’ written on the front. “Everyone being laid off is being given a generous severance package: six weeks’ pay.”

Kev snatched the envelope when it was offered to him. “It won’t matter if it’s six months’ pay! There’s nothing else here; you’re forcing an entire town of families to pack up and move!”

“They’ll all have to move anyway. Once we stop paying the Magistrate, he’ll move away and officially disincorporate the town.”

“You—”

Tanner slammed the briefcase closed. “Consider your next words carefully, Mr. Kev. I commend your loyalty to your subordinates, but you need to think of your own family as well. As I said, all non-executives are being let go. You are still employed, and will be relocated. You have a family, I presume? They’ll be relocated with you.”

Kev tried to smooth out the envelope that he’d been crushing in his fist. “I’ve got a sister, a nephew… a wife. If I’ve still got a job, then what’s this letter for?”

“Your performance hasn’t gone unnoticed, Mr. Kev. The envelope contains a bonus, and instructions on how to report to corporate headquarters for reassignment. You are of course free to seek employment elsewhere, but I assure you that the corporation will ensure you and your family find a, shall we say, more comfortable place to live and a career to match.”

The envelope’s flap was folded over, but not sealed. Kev stuck a finger through the opening and immediately noticed a large number, more than he’d earn in six months, printed on the check inside. “Is… Is that—”

Tanner stood and held out the briefcase. “You’ll find everything you need inside. Thank you for your continued service, Mr. Kev.”

Kev stared down at the briefcase, and at the hand holding it. Ripping that hand out of its socket still sounded like a good idea, although not until all those checks were cashed. An executive’s severed limb sounded like the perfect resignation notice. Instead, he offered up his own hand and let the briefcase fall into it. The weight of fifty six ruined futures, plus wives and children, tugged down on his arm. He should’ve fallen down that mineshaft instead of Jerek. “Goodbye, Mr. Tanner.”

“Goodb—”

The office jolted left and right, as if a giant had just kicked it off its foundation. The cheap blinds on the windows clattered to the ground, the desk slid across the room, and the two minotaurs braced themselves against the walls. The whole world rumbled for upwards of thirty seconds before finally settling down.

Tanner had one hand on the wall, and the other over his heart. “What was that?”

Kev grabbed his helmet off the floor and put it on Tanner’s head. “Stay in here, just in case there’s another one.”

He threw open the office door and surveyed what remained of the world. The equipment racks, the huge hunks of metal that required four workers to move, were toppled over in the dirt. Pickaxes, shovels, helmets, coils of rope, and other pieces of mining equipment lay scattered everywhere. A foot-wide chasm stood between him and the mine. The massive steel bars that formed the mine’s entrance were still intact, but the plume of rock dust billowing out of the darkness spoke to the destruction that likely awaited below.

Kev ran to the edge of the shadows and braced himself against the steel beams. Instinct told him to run in as fast as he could, hopefully before another family became fatherless. His training told him the exact opposite.

“Ezer,” he shouted, “are you down there?”

Silence was the only answer.

He bellowed as loud as he could. “Ezer!”

At last he saw a headlamp through the dust clouds, one too low to the ground to be a minotaur. A goat coughed some words that he could barely hear. “Boss! We hit a fault on the gem vein… big one. Sounded like we split the whole mountain in two.”

“Is anyone missing? Is anyone hurt?”

“Don’t know… Ezer’s doing the headcount now… Didn’t hear any screams, at least.”

Kev ran back to the remains of the equipment racks and grabbed the first medical kit he could find. The contents of the giant plastic box shifted and rumbled as he ran, almost as if the box was filled with bricks instead of bandages. At this point, he wouldn’t have put it past corporate to pull that kind of a trick. Real medical supplies would cost more, after all.

By time he made it back to the mine’s entrance, a long line headlamps was bobbing their way through the dust clouds. He counted them again and again, each time coming up four short of a full headcount.

Ezer was the third one to reach the surface. Blood dripped down his forehead and coated his hands, and yet he pushed away a bandage when Kev offered it. He spoke between panting breaths. “We haven’t got any wounded… The whole tunnel head closed up on us… The four guys at the back… They got crushed right as we heard the ground shake…”

Kev nodded. “You got everyone else out. Just sit down and let me patch you up.”

Ezer’s eyebrows shot up. “The gem cart! We passed it just a hundred paces short of the entrance. We can still go get—”

“Forget the gems. They don’t matter.”

“But I could—”

Kev grabbed Ezer’s reflective vest and forced him to sit. “They don’t matter, and we’re not going back in there!” He turned to the collection of workers standing around him. “You hear that? We’re done! I don’t care if I have to break all of your legs, nobody is going back in there for gems! Diamonds aren’t going to take care of your wives or raise your kids! Are we clear?”

Fifty two, and not fifty six, sad and shaken workers nodded.

Kev opened his mouth, but no words came out. He thought of the briefcase still sitting in his office, and how much worse today was about to get. “Guys… Guys… I’ve got some bad news—”

A second rumble stilled Kev’s heart. Everyone ran away from the mine, and Kev hurried them along. “Go! Go! G—”

And then he looked up. The rumbling wasn’t coming from the mine. The mountain top above him, the rocky, snowless peak that he’d lived in the shadow of for half a decade, was smaller than it used to be. A rock face the size a city block was rubble, and freshly carved boulders were rolling down the mountainside towards the village.

Blood

Kev’s legs burned as he ran. His hooves pumped up and down on the loose rocks that now littered the path. Every few steps, he’d stumble and have to catch himself. Watching where he was going wasn’t an option, not when that would mean taking his eyes off the plumes of dust rising over the ridge. Whatever was happening up there would be over long before he got there; whether that was a new pile of rocks next to the village or on top of it remained to be seen.

“Jerek, you idiot! Why’d you ever let me talk you into accepting that job offer? Why’d you have to go and marry my sister right before we got transferred? Why’d you two have to start a family? If you were here right now, I’d punch your stupid face in! I’d—”

His hooves slipped on a pile of rocks and sent him crashing to the ground. He’d reached the top of the hill, the lookout point where he and Morning Dew had exchanged the closest thing to a bonding moment their short marriage had ever known. Now as he stared at the mountain’s western slope, he saw the world that moment had taken place in was gone.

Kev didn’t consciously process most of what he saw as he ran through the remains of the village. He didn’t hear the screams from those pinned under the rubble, or the moans from those who’d lost limbs, loved ones, or both. He didn’t smell the citrus of the smashed fruit stand in the market, or the blood of its smashed proprietors. He didn’t see the lingering clouds of rock dust that made breathing as difficult for the uninjured as walking was for the maimed. His mind was wholly occupied with his family’s daily schedule.

“Still an hour left before I’m supposed to leave work… Dana’s starting dinner, Tam’s up from his nap, and Morning Dew’s playing with him. Still an hour left before I’m supposed to leave work. Dana’s starting dinner…”

Those words spilled through his mind and past his lips as he dug through the pile of rock that had replaced his house.

“Dana’s starting dinner!”

He threw a boulder over his shoulder.

“Tam’s up from his nap!”

He reached for another, and then another.

“Morning Dew’s playing with—”

Reality hit as his hands closed around something soft. Morning Dew’s hoof still felt warm, but the pool of blood around her head made it clear that she’d soon be as cold as the stones that had buried her. Her form was mostly hidden by shadow, which Kev didn’t intend to change. He couldn’t even bear to speak her name, let alone inspect her injuries.

Kev spotted Dana’s arm nearby, sticking out from under a boulder bigger than he was. Her fingers were closed around a hand much smaller than her own.

He gently touched her curled fingers. She felt cold already, colder than Morning Dew. Her ring felt colder still.

Tears poured out of him. He knelt in the midst of his deceased family, gripping Dana’s hand but not daring to touch Tam’s. “Don’t go… Don’t leave me here all alone. Y-you’re all I have!”

Hooves scraped against the rocks nearby. Kev tensed up. He slipped Dana’s ring off her finger and into his shirt pocket. Even if their former home became her body’s tomb, her rings would have a proper burial. “Who’s there?”

No response came.

Kev stood, which was enough to raise his head above the hole he’d created in the rock pile. “Who’s there? Are you trapped? Do you need—”

The scuffing of hooves came again, this time clearly from the other side of the monstrous rock that had taken Dana and Tam. Kev pushed himself out of the hole, and in the process discovered another one. Someone had already started excavating the rear of the house, and one of their spindly goat horns was giving away their hiding place. Sunlight glinted off a golden ring looped around their right horn, a ring that had been scuffed and dented by years of unpaid labor, the mate to the ring in Kev’s pocket.

Tuft Head dove out of the rubble seconds after Kev lunged forward. The pair tumbled down the rock pile and into the street. Every drop of adrenaline that Kev had left coursed through him like an electric current. He couldn’t feel the hooves pounding his face and chest, or the hot blood on his knuckles. All he could sense was Tuft Head’s ragged breathing, and how much he wanted to never hear that sound again.

Kev punched him across the face once more, and pushed himself back up to a kneeling position. A wooden beam lying at the edge of the wreckage caught his eye. He grabbed it, and raised it high overhead. Tuft Head lay on the ground beneath him, bloodied, dazed, and nearly unconscious. That still wasn’t enough. It could never be enough. “This is for Dana, goat.”

A voice cut through his savage hatred like a knife, a sweet female voice that was both foreign and yet familiar. “Wait! Wait!”

And then he saw her. Morning Dew stood there, barely three feet from Tuft Head, with a hoof raised in protest. Water dripped from her soaked mane. The remains of her water jugs had turned her hair into what only looked like a bloody mess.

She spoke, and once again her words rang clear in his ears. “Please don’t kill him, Kev! Please just let him go!”

Kev’s heart broke. Tears ran down his face as his grief overtook his anger. He turned away from the still-breathing goat and faced the only family he had left. Morning Dew’s eyes went wide. She let out a scream and curled up into a ball. “Please, no! No no no no!”

 “Huh?” The wooden beam slipped out of Kev’s hands and clattered to the ground between them. “What’s the matter—”

White hot pain shot through Kev’s leg. He felt his balance shifting, as if the ground had given way beneath his right hoof. As he fell, he glanced back and saw One Eye, head down and horns buried in his calf. Rage boiled away the tears he had yet to shed. With a cry of earth-shaking fury, he pulled One Eye off the ground by the horns and heaved him through the air. The goat’s scream faded away as he fell past the village’s edge and out of sight.

Then Kev hit the ground. One Eye was on his way to a crash landing, hopefully on something jagged. Tuft Head was where Kev had left him, still breathing and still wearing the stolen ring. Morning Dew hadn’t run away this time, or at least not as far. She sat across the street, sobbing quietly.

“Kev!” The Magistrate stood over him with an axe in one hand and a shackle in the other. “You’re under arrest.”

Salt

A cold breeze cut through Kev’s thin blanket. Stars gleamed down on him, and not just through the small window high up on the wall. He hadn’t known that the Magistrate’s home included a small jail cell. Four walls of criss-crossing steel bars surrounded him, one of the town’s few structural edifices that hadn’t been damaged or demolished. The brick wall on the other side of the bars was half gone, thanks to rolling boulders that had done much more damage to the neighboring buildings.

Dana’s wedding ring dug into his flesh through his shirt pocket. How could a whole life be distilled down to a little lump of metal? That ring represented more than one life, actually. She’d carried Tam into the world, and carried him out of it. All Kev could do, and all he had done for countless hours, was mourn them. His single, threadbare blanket was soaked with the last of his tears, no more would come to his eyes regardless of the depth of his sorrow. The hollowing out of his heart that began the moment he’d touched Dana’s hand was now complete. All that remained was a sort of terrible emptiness: a soul-gouging longing for all the meaning and purpose he’d once had. He knew he wasn’t alone in that feeling, either. The same emotion poured into his ears from all over town.

Outside, the crying still hadn’t stopped. He could still hear it on the wind, the sound of broken families pouring out their grief in much more socially acceptable ways than his afternoon rampage. That had to be why he was the only one in a cell. Hopefully he’d at least spared the rest of the village from having their possessions stolen while they wept. That was almost worth being charged with attempted murder, or possibly murder. He’d find out in the morning.

“Psst.”

He tried to sit up on the wooden bench that served as his bed. Sharp, stabbing pain shot through his leg as soon as he moved it. He lay back down and waited for the dizziness to pass. Sitting up took great effort, and standing was a complete impossibility; even if he could stomach the pain, his own leg couldn’t take his weight.

A four-legged shadow moved through the lightless streets and approached the bars. “Psst. Kev.”

Kev waved a few fingers. “Morning Dew?”

“Are you all right?”

“I’ll never be all right.”

Morning Dew nodded. “I’d take their place if I could.”

Kev grunted. “Tam’s got his dad back now… Dana’s got her husband. So what if I miss them…”

“I’m sure they miss you, too.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Pebbles and loose mortar scattered as she squeezed through the gap in the brick wall. Next she got down on her belly and wriggled her way through the cell’s bars, a feat that only a hornless creature like herself could manage. “Even if you don’t want to talk… I’m still here for you.”

He forced himself to a sitting position. “What’re you doing? If you get caught in here—”

“Ssh. I’ve got some clean cloth, and water with special herbs ground up in it. I’m going to clean and rewrap your wound. That should keep it from getting infected, and dull the pain.”

“Now? I can’t even see my own hands. How can you do all that in the dark?”

“I don’t need to. The sun is about to rise.”

A ray of sunlight broke through the darkness. Kev watched stars in the sky grow dim as day began to break. “How did you do that?”

“Knowing about daybreak is my special talent. Is it okay if I take care of your leg?”

Kev looked down. White dish towels were draped over Morning Dew’s back, and a small bucket of water stood by her front hooves. She’d probably scavenged it all from the remains of the kitchen, most certainly with the aid of her mouth. Still, her offering looked better than the blood-soaked rag currently wrapped around his calf. “Fine. What do you mean by special talent?”

Somehow she loosened his bandage with nothing but her hooves. “How much do you know about ponies? Do you know about cutie marks?”

The pain redoubled as she peeled the bandage away. Kev made two fists as tears flooded his eyes. “Just tell me. Give me something to focus on.”

“Every pony has a special talent, something that makes them different. When they find out what their talent is, a cutie mark appears on their flanks. Mine is the sun rising over a hill.”

Kev thought back to seeing her sitting on her bed, nibbling carrots. “I figured it was a tattoo, or paint…”

“It’s pony magic. I always woke up early when I was a filly. I was just so excited to get on with the day, even if I knew it was going to be a tough one… Most of them were, but even though I had to work hard, I couldn’t even wait for the sun to rise. One day, I realized that’s what makes me special: I always know when the day is about to start, and I’m always ready when it does.”

He blinked away enough of his tears to see what was happening. The water in the bucket was stained red, as were a few of the towels she’d brought. His old bandage lay on the ground, and a new one was being laid over the gash in his skin. Seeing the hole in his own flesh make his stomach churn. He focused on her instead, the pony tending to him like a real, loving wife. She still wore a frown, an expression she seemed unable to escape for more than a few seconds on end. His gaze traveled down her back and to her cutie mark.

‘Pony magic’ still sounded absurd, even when staring directly at it. He couldn’t write off his suddenly being able to understand her with those two words. Nothing had magically changed in him just as he was about to split Tuft Head’s skull open. He hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone, pony or otherwise. That only left one possibility.

“You’re touching me.”

Morning Dew’s hooves paused for a moment. “And you’re staring at me.”

“You never touch me. At first, you hardly even looked at me. Then it was that time I got angry. Then again today and… Ugh. All this time… I should’ve figured it out. Dana had me so convinced I was the problem, that I didn’t want to understand you… All this time, you just didn’t want me to.”

Her hooves trembled as she finished the bandage’s knot. “I-I’m sorry. Where I come from… What I’ve been through… I don’t really want to—”

“Were you married before?”

Morning Dew stared down at the finished bandage and, after a moment of stillness, gave a small nod.

“Did he ever hit you?”

She sat, and tears appeared on the ground by their hooves. Her whole body shook. “I had to leave Equestria to get away… He wouldn’t leave me alone after we separated… No matter where I moved… No matter who I stayed with. I had to leave Equestria… Minos was as far as I could afford.”

A section of the wooden bench broke off in Kev’s white-knuckled fist. “If that pony ever shows up here, if he ever bothers you again, I’ll kill him.”

Morning Dew shivered. “No. I swear I don’t want that. That’s why I couldn’t let you kill that goat. Killing isn’t a very… pony thing to want.”

“I’m no pony! If Dana ran into him, she’d take her time. She’d make him beg to die, and that’s still better than he deserves.”

“I-I’m glad you want to protect me, but—”

“Would you stop me if I tried?”

Her crying finally stopped. She looked into his eyes with the same broken look she’d given him when they first met. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Her lips grew thin as she tried to maintain her simple frown instead of something worse.

Kev took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. If that’s not what you want… I’ll try to stay calm. I swear I can do that. I’m not just some mindless animal that smashes things.”

She nodded. “I know… That’s… That’s actually why I chose you.”

“Huh?”

“I-I saw Dana in the market with Tam the day we met. Her two rings marked her as a widow, but she looked so happy, and so did Tam. I knew they had a good home. I saw how Tam hugged you when you first got home and… and I knew you could be kind and loving. All I wanted… all I’ve wanted for a long time was a home where I’d feel safe.”

“Getting married to a minotaur you just met was a still a terrible idea. For all you knew, I could’ve wanted a whole lot more out of our ‘marriage.’ ”

Her tail wrapped around her side. “I know… I would’ve done it, too… if I had to. There was still a chance you’d be kind… just a chance, but… But that chance… that hope is all I had.”

Kev felt the weight of his own back bearing down on him. He leaned to the side and, very slowly, resumed lying on the bench. The explosion of pain he expected from his wound never came.

“Those herbs really helped. Thanks for doing that.” He held out a hand towards Morning Dew, but wasn’t surprised when she backed away. “I’ll never hurt you.”

“I know. I’ve known that for a long time. I just…”

“Not that it matters anymore… I failed. I failed as a husband. Even if I don’t wind up in prison, I failed to provide. You’d be better off finding someone who can.”

She inched forward and brushed her cheek against his fingertips. “You’re not a failure.”

“I am. Nobody knows this yet, but… they’re closing down the mine. Everybody but me is out of a job, and we all have to move away. If I’d had brains enough to run the place differently…”

She pressed closer to him. He spread his fingers, and she didn’t shy away as he stroked her mane. Her frown was gone at last. “You did the best you could, and you still are… That’s how I know I made the right decision.”

He wanted to cry, and not in mourning. “Thanks.”

Hoofsteps echoed down the hallway, and the Magistrate’s groggy muttering soon followed. Kev lifted himself up and craned his neck to look for his approaching jailer. “Run! Don’t forget to take your—”

Morning Dew’s contraband bucket and towels were gone, and so was she.

Sitting had never felt so uncomfortable. Kev wasn’t sure if it was the sleepless night, the pain, the blood loss, or just the stench of candle wax permeating the Magistrate’s office. All he knew for certain was that air in the room was swimming far more than it was supposed to. He’d been placed on a metal bench against the wall and shackled to it, thankfully by his good leg. The left side of the Magistrate’s fearsome desk stood directly in front of him, a separator between him and the goats coming to formally press charges.

All the papers and books that normally covered the desk were gone. Kev imagined yesterday’s earthquake dumping all of that carefully stacked bureaucratic gibberish on the ground, an idea that pleased him greatly. Too bad the candles didn’t catch on something and burn the whole place to the ground. This wasn’t a time for laughing to himself, though. Sitting up straight took enough effort.

Morning Dew nudged his side and held up a steaming mug of coffee. He’d almost forgotten she was there, this time as an official guest at her husband’s trial. Here she was, seated on the bench next to him with all the calmness and dignity she could muster. She’d even prepared a cup of coffee for him from the pot on the end table in the corner. Was she allowed to do that? Was he sipping from the Magistrate’s own mug? Kev could only dream.

The Magistrate didn’t seem to care either way. He didn’t even seem to care about the fresh bandage that had appeared on Kev’s leg during the night. He just sat behind his desk and watched the door. “Your accusers should be here any minute now, then we can get this trial over with. I’ve got better things to do than listen to how you beat a four-legger within an inch of his miserable life. There’s statements to take, death certificates to write, property disputes to settle, widows to comfort…”

Kev felt his old rage bubble up inside. That was still better than feeling sad or empty. If he was fated to go to prison, the least he could do was commit a horrible crime. If only the Magistrate was a little closer, and the coffee a lot hotter.

Morning Dew nudged him again. “Please drink your coffee, Kev. You need your strength.”

Kev nodded and drank. The least he could do was be conscious enough to stare Grey Beard down when the old goat arrived to revel in his victory.

At last, a knock rattled the front door, and the handle turned. Grey Beard appeared in the doorway, but not with the triumphant smile that Kev had expected. Instead, he walked to the desk’s far edge and spat something out. A golden ring bounced across the wood, right past the Magistrate, and rolled to a stop in front of Kev and Morning Dew.

Grey Beard cleared his throat. “Ring is yours, yes? My idiot, thieving nephew have little ‘accident’ on farm last night. Stealing from dead very bad in goat culture. Is… Is—” he briefly dropped into his own language, speaking in words that he likely didn’t think Kev could understand “—it is unpardonable.”

Morning Dew gasped.

Grey Beard shrugged. “He always bad for business anyway. Without him, I not even miss my best guard laid up with broken leg.”

The Magistrate knocked on the table. “This is a trial. Please present the charges against this minotaur so we can move on to sentencing.”

Grey Beard stepped around the desk and approached Kev. “That depend. Nephew bad for business. You bad for business, too. I drop all charges if your wifey stop. No more water pony.”

Kev looked down at Morning Dew, the only soul in town that knew of the mine’s closure and the whole town’s resulting doom. He gave what he hoped was a convincing sigh of defeat. “I guess we’ll have to accept his offer.”

Morning Dew nodded. “I think you’re right.”

The Magistrate produced a gavel and pounded it on the desk. “Case dismissed. You’re free to go, Kev. Go be an upstanding citizen, for a change.”

The shackle around Kev’s leg hadn’t really been necessary. He hobbled out of the Magistrate’s office with one hand, and most of his weight, pressed down on Morning Dew’s back. “I don’t really know where we’re going.”

Morning Dew smiled at him. “You can go anywhere. You’re free.”

“From prison, anyway. I’ve still got to go fire all my buddies that work at the mine, bury Dana and Tam, and then… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do after that. I don’t even know where to go.”

She slowed her walking, which forced him to pause as well. In her eyes, he saw the same faint hope as when he’d first agreed to marry her. “Well… Wherever you go… Can I go with you?”

Steel

City lights flashed by the train car’s window. Each electric strobe reminded Kev of lightning. The unending roar of metal wheels on metal tracks, and the too-blue glare of electric lights felt like an unshakable headache. Had he really been used to this world, once upon a time? All those years of living on the edge of civilization were finally catching up to him.

His former workers and all their families were in for the same shock. As soon as they finished packing up whatever was left of their lives, they’d be boarding trains just like this one in pursuit of new jobs, hopefully less dangerous ones. At least they weren’t going empty-handed. Each family would set out with their severance pay, plus a share of Kev’s bonus. He’d reserved most of it for the town’s four new widows. They could resettle in Equestria just like Dana always wanted, or wherever else in the world they chose.

There really wasn’t much room in the sleeper cabin, especially once he folded the padded bench out into a bed. Keeping his leg elevated eased the pain in ways that Morning Dew’s herbs couldn’t, even if it meant bringing the issue of sleeping arrangements to the forefront of his mind.

He looked over at Morning Dew, who hadn’t moved from the window since they boarded. When they’d first departed, when there was still a trace of daylight in the sky, he’d been able to see her stoic reflection in the glass. Now that night had overtaken day, and city lights had overtaken barren wilderness, there was only one possible way to gauge her mood.

“Hey.”

She glanced back with her eyebrows raised. “Hmm? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing with me… What about you? I could still buy another ticket and sit in the coach cabin. You could have this room to yourself.”

“No, it’s fine. You should keep your leg elevated, and… I don’t really want to go to sleep out there, either. Not with all those eyes on me, and there not being any curtains to block the lights outside… Do minotaurs in the city ever sleep?”

“You get used to it. I grew up in a tiny little apartment in a big city. So long as you have thick curtains on the windows, the light isn’t so bad. Now if you live next to a busy street… I guess those families always wear earplugs at night or something.”

Someone knocked on the cabin door. “Dinner trolley!”

Kev reached over and slid the door open. Two goats, clad in red vests with gold trim, stood on either side of a sizable metal box on wheels that blocked the entire hallway. Steam and the smell of grease were escaping from a small exhaust pipe on top. “Good evening, Sir and… Madam. Here’s… uh… here’s the menu.”

Kev grabbed an offered menu while the goats tried to remember their script. At least they knew how to speak clearly. “Thank you.”

Morning Dew left her spot by the window and eyed the menu along with Kev. “Is there anything that doesn’t have meat in it?”

“Hmm. There’s the garlic chicken. Chicken doesn’t count, right?” One of the goats said.

Morning Dew frowned. “I’m serious.”

The goat studied another copy of the menu. “Well, maybe the herb-encrusted… no. Or maybe the… You sure ponies can’t have chicken?”

Kev clenched his teeth.

Morning Dew simply spoke. “I’ll have whatever you’re having for dinner, sir. Does chicken count for goats?”

Kev’s grinned and held up a couple fingers. “Heh. You know what? Make that two.”

Fifteen minutes later, things were quiet again. The dinner trolley was gone, save for two plates of spaghetti noodles, tomato sauce, cheese, and vegetables.

Kev twirled a plastic fork against his plate and watched pasta wind around its tines. “I can’t believe they ‘forgot’ about the vegetarian options.”

Morning Dew slurped a noodle into her mouth, leaving a trail of sauce on her nose. “We’ll see if they ‘forget’ about them again when it’s time for breakfast.”

He laughed. “Good thing the meals come free with the sleeper cabin. It makes it easier to not leave them a tip.”

“Sounds fair.”

“Stupid leg… If I could walk, we could go up to the dining car for something that didn’t come out of a can.”

“It’s still food.”

“Yeah, but I wish we could do better than overcooked spaghetti, especially since we can finally afford it.”

She dabbed her nose on a napkin. “Can we, really?”

“We’re not rich, but we can do better than this.”

“I’m not picky, so long as we’re eating every day… Ever since I could walk I’ve been doing one hard, thankless job or another, sometimes on an empty stomach… Spend enough nights going to bed hungry, and you learn to appreciate each and every meal.”

Kev stared at the remainder of his dinner, wishing more than anything for Dana’s home cooking. “I’ll find another job, even if it’s digging ditches. I’ll find a way to feed us, just as soon as I get my leg fixed up.”

“Where should we go?”

“I don’t know. All I know for sure is I want to be somewhere new and densely populated. Someplace that has a future.”

Morning Dew pushed the remaining vegetables around on her plate.

Kev set down his fork. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m just tired. Do you mind if I close the curtains so I can get some rest?”

“Sure.” He’d recognize her frown anywhere, even hidden behind a smile.

Kev stared up at the ceiling. Closing the curtains didn’t help, and neither did closing his eyes. Every so often, a passing railway light illuminated the cabin like a camera flash and jolted him from whatever dream he’d just begun. He could almost feel happy memories surging through his subconscious each time he woke. So many moments felt like yesterday, like watching Tam take his first steps, or joking around with Dana about when they were kids themselves. Somehow, they all just made him feel worse; nothing about the past would ever change, but the future loomed on the horizon like a terrible monster waiting to strike.

“Are you awake?” Morning Dew whispered.

He leaned his head to the side. Morning Dew hadn’t moved from her spot on the bed’s edge, where she’d wrapped herself in a cocoon of blankets that left her looking like a caterpillar with a red tail. Her open eyes shone brightly in the low light.

Kev folded his arms behind his head. “I can’t sleep.”

“Does your leg hurt too much?”

“I’ve slept through worse, but not on a train. Sorry if I’m keeping you up.”

“You’re not. I can’t sleep either.”

“Is it the train?”

“Not really… It’s kind of embarrassing.”

A smile formed on his lips. “Come on, tell me.”

She hid her face in the blanket. “It’s you. I haven’t shared a bed with somepony in a really, really long time… Lots of bad memories.”

“Sorry, I… pony?”

“Equestrian slang, sorry.”

“I can still go somewhere else.”

“No, please stay. We’re married; I can get used to sharing a bed again.”

“Is that what you want? Being married to a minotaur like me?”

She extracted one of her forelegs from the blankets and touched his shoulder. “As crazy as it sounds… yes, but… But I know I’m not really the kind of wife you want.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because of how you always played with Tam. You always had so much fun with him. I could tell you wanted kids of your own.”

Kev thought of the matching gold rings stowed in his suitcase, the rings that still needed a proper burial. “I had my whole life planned out, once. I was going to get a high-paying job, marry a beautiful minotaur woman, and have lots of kids. I was just getting somewhere with the job when Dana’s husband died. I still wanted all those things, but I was willing to wait. Dana had this idea of moving to Equestria so she could live on her own without marrying again. We’d save up for a while, and then the goats would jack up their prices, or Tam would get sick and need medicine… something always came up. That’s why I gave most of my bonus to the widows in town.”

“Thank you so much for doing that.”

“It’s what Dana would’ve wanted… for them to have a chance at something better. She always said the only thing worse than being a widow in Minos is being a poor one.”

Kev closed his eyes. He could almost hear his sister muttering those words. He would’ve given up his good leg to hear her gripe about gender inequality again.

Morning Dew pressed her hoof against him. “Is that what you still want?”

“Huh?”

“A big family.”

Kev glanced in her direction. He didn’t need light to sense her apprehension. “You first.”

“Huh?”

“Do you want kids?”

“I… It’s complicated.”

“I don’t see why. You were great with Tam. Sure, he liked playing with me, but I never got him laughing like you could.”

Morning Dew sighed. “I loved playing with him, but… but I can’t have children of my own. It’s not that I’ve never wanted them, it’s just how I was born. I can’t have foals.”

He placed his hand on her foreleg. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I made peace with that a long time ago. So even if you were a pony or if I was a minotaur… I can’t give you what you want.”

Her foreleg started to retreat, but he held onto it. After years of pained waiting and weeks of confused wondering, he finally knew. He really was married, and this was what it felt like to hold hands with his wife. “I never said I still wanted kids.”

“But—”

“And it’s not because of you. The accident at the mine would’ve happened either way. Maybe I’d even be on this train, talking to myself instead. Right now, I just want a fresh start. I want a job that isn’t dangerous, and somewhere nice to come home to… somewhere with family. I want that family to be you.”

“But what if you change your mind later? What if in a few months or years you want kids again? What if you meet the beautiful minotaur woman of your dreams?”

“I won’t change my mind, and I’m not going to leave you just because you’re a pony.”

“I believe you, but… How can you know? I don’t want you to be unhappy, and if I ever make you unhappy…”

Kev offered her his left hand. In his palm sat the simple wedding band he’d been wearing for weeks. “I’m willing to find out if you are. Morning Dew, will you marry me?”

She slid the gold band across his open hand with her hoof until it met the edge of his ring finger, and slipped it back on. For the first time in years, she shed a tear of joy. “I’d love to.”

Family

Kev set his cane against the tree in the front yard and, with great difficulty, knelt beside it. The gentle breeze sapping away the late afternoon’s warmth seemed to rustle every leaf in the forest. Not even a hurricane could drown out the sound of the neighborhood kids, of course. School was out, and they’d all flocked to the playground just down the tree-lined street. How their voices managed to carry so well through what was essentially a city in the middle of a forest still made Kev wonder.

He regarded the base of the tree, the spot where he’d buried Dana’s rings and Tam’s favorite toy. “Hey, Dana. It’s been a whole year today. Sorry I don’t stop by as often as I used to… life just keeps getting busy. I got promoted last week, and… you probably don’t want to hear about work, do you?”

The wind whistled by, and Kev found himself glancing at the leafy canopy above. “You’d love how this place looks in the spring. Heh, but you’d hate the hunting ban. That’s what happens when you live in Equestria: you go vegetarian. That’s even true if you’re in a nameless borderland town like this one. Even the local griffons can’t snap up anything bigger than a worm. Anyway, I just wanted to say… thanks for moving in with me. I know you didn’t have a choice, but it was great getting to help raise Tam for a while. Keep reminding Jerek how lucky he has it, having you two back. Thanks for convincing me to marry a pony, too. Sure it’s not what I planned on, but… That’s life, isn’t it? We don’t get to plan it all out; you just have to hope you have someone to go through it with. Speaking of ponies—” he held up a bouquet of daffodils “—I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

The house always looked so big to him, like he’d accidentally walked into the yard of someone more important than a manager at a small-time fruit cannery. He snuck along the side, deftly avoiding the high windows on the oversized front room. By now the little desks inside would be deserted, but one of Morning Dew’s fellow teachers could still spot him if they hadn’t left yet.

At last, he reached the building’s side door, the entryway to the humble living area that bordered the school house. His cane didn’t make sneaking any easier. He’d lost track of the times that these little surprises turned into Morning Dew finding him face-down in the flower beds. Not today. Today, he’d taken care with every hoof fall. It wasn’t every day that he came bearing a bouquet of her favorite flowers, after all.

The sound of sniffling stopped him at the threshold. He held up an ear and listened to what could only be one of the little griffon kids, unless there was also a pony with a beak in the class. He worked with a few ponies with horns or wings, but none with beaks.

“You promise?” the little griffon said.

Morning Dew’s soothing voice came next. “I promise there aren’t any monsters in the forest, Martha. The big kids were just trying to scare you.”

“But… What if there’s monsters out there and we just don’t know it?”

“I’ll tell you what: if you ever see a monster out there, we’ll get big Mr. K to take care of it. He’s really good at that.”

Martha giggled. “Mr. K? He can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“He’s too nice to scare monsters away.”

“That’s exactly why he’s so good at it. Real strength comes from kindness, Martha, and Mr. K is the strongest minotaur in the world.”

“Really?”

“Really. Why don’t you run down the street to the park and play with your friends? Your mom and dad will be there soon.”

Kev stepped to the side and out of sight moments before a tiny griffon ran out the door with her wings spread wide. She’d be flying to the park instead of running in a matter of months. He’d settle for being able to run. Walking was enough of a challenge these days.

Morning Dew stuck her head around the corner and grinned. “And who do we have here?”

Kev stepped out of his hiding place with a smile. “Just big Mr. K, checking for monsters.”

She came closer, sniffed the air, and nudged the hand he’d hidden behind his back. “I see. That’s an awfully nice smelling—”

He picked her up in his arms, being careful to put the weight on his good leg. She laughed and wrapped her forelegs around his shoulders as the flowers flew everywhere.

Author's Note

The genesis of this story was my reading this news article and marveling at the living situations that our environment, both natural and cultural, can lead us to accept or reject.