“This mare is a hellcat. Are you sure she’s a good investment? She’s pricey for a project horse,” said the groom.

  Laci tried to stand still, but her legs refused to listen. The rabbit groom corrected her sharply with the reins, and she tossed her head anxiously. A white doe rabbit stood waiting for her by the entrance gate, reading through a copy of her records hastily. She tossed the papers aside, and her eyes darted up to meet Laci’s startled ones. She put a hand to her hip and nodded with approval.

  “I told you to find something hot. This is what I like,” the white rabbit said. “I was hoping for a stallion, but she could work.”

  The rabbit holding her sighed. “Thelma, you’re going to have to work some magic on her. She’s been backed four times already, each worse than the last.”

  Laci twitched, the heat of guilt rushing to her face and chest.

  “They don’t know how to handle a horse of her caliber anymore. She’s just ready to go. Almost every horse I try these days is lazy,” Thelma complained.

  The groom hiked up the girth until it was tight enough to bruise, slapping her on the shoulder when she shifted her feet. He walked her out into the ring at a swift pace, and hauled back on the reins to hold her by the mounting block.

  “She’s going to test you. Keep a firm hand on her,” he warned.

  Laci’s heart thumped in her chest at a rapid pace. Her wild blue eye watched in terror as Thelma shoved her spurred boot into the stirrup. She felt herself lose control as the rabbit threw herself over her back. Her nostrils flared as she surged forward. The metal bit tore at her mouth, making her jaw feel almost numb. Her ears snapped back, and she clamped her tail down to try to soothe herself. She fought against Thelma’s hand, tossing her head and wringing her back in the air like a wet towel.

  “Sit up, Thelma! Don’t let her pull you around,” the groom called out.

  Laci snorted hard, letting blood fly from her nostrils. Inflammatory images and memories flashed through her brain. The scars, the constant judgement, being ordered around like a machine. An ungodly whine escaped from the depths of her bloody throat.

  “She needs to be taught a lesson. Good thing I don’t mind a challenge,” Thelma barked. She cursed under her breath, but Laci heard every word.

  Laci picked up a swift gallop, twisted, reared, and plowed her head into the bit. Her sides were burning from the constant raking of the spurs, and Thelma snapped the whip across her flank.

  “She’s a fiery young devil! Someone’s spoiled her rotten,” she shouted.

  The groom jumped in front of Laci to stop her, but she dodged him fearfully. “Get her under control! Correct her!”

  Thelma ripped back on one rein, turning Laci’s head to face her. “I can’t stop her!” she cried.

  Laci kept her momentum and launched up, snatching the reins out of Thelma’s hands. The noise in her head would not quiet down. Her instincts kept screaming at her to fight back, leaving her no other option.

  If they won’t respect you, force them to.

  With a frantic rear, she threw the rabbit into the wall of the ring. A loud thud and snap sounded as Thelma’s right arm shattered, and Laci’s panic skyrocketed. Her head spun with fear as she bolted to the other side of the ring, then turned back to watch their reaction. The groom had rushed over to the fallen rabbit, who looked more like a fur rug from where Laci was standing, and was looking her over. Two other rabbits sprinted in from the hall.

  “Thelma, are you okay?” one of them exclaimed.

  “I’ll be fine. Go grab that mare before she takes off again,” she said, annoyed.

  The other saw her arm and gasped. “You’ve got to see a doctor, that’s definitely broken.”

  Laci dropped her head, mortified. She dashed out into the hall, nostrils flared and whites of her eyes blazing. She could hardly remember what happened next, adrenaline blurring the world for a fleeting moment. Someone grabbed her by the reins and had the sense to untack her, but she did not know who. She stood in shock, skin shivering with tension, but otherwise motionless.

  She sat in the counselor’s office holding a bloody towel to her face, still trembling with anxiety. Her chest felt crushed in on itself like a car that’s been T-boned. There was no hair left on her sides where the spurs had dug, and the many lash marks on her flanks were clear as day. Tears were rolling down her face. Not because it hurt, or because she was sorry for herself. She could’ve killed Thelma, and the thought of it scared her.

  She heard a voice above her, distantly. “Do you want me to call home?”

  Laci nodded slowly without looking up.

  “Laci, talk to me. Are you feeling quite alright?” the voice said, closer this time.

  She finally ventured to glance up. A long-legged old stallion was sitting in front of her on the floor.

  “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” she choked out.

  The stallion patted her shoulder softly. “Laci, you’re a brilliant young horse with a bright future ahead of you. You’re just learning. You haven’t hurt anyone, have you?”

  The door to the counselor’s office slammed open. Thelma’s groom was standing in the doorway, his face riddled with panic.

  “You need to get that bronc out of here before she kills someone,” he panted.

  The stallion stood quickly, staring at him in confusion. “What are you talking about? Laci graduated at the top of her class, and you said Thelma was capable of backing her. As I told you, she’s merely a spirited young mare.”

  “She just sent Thelma Martin to the hospital. Broke her arm right in half. That horse is dangerous,” the groom went on. He scurried down the hall, as if he was afraid of what Laci might try next.

  The counselor looked back at her with distress. “Laci, is this all true? Did you intend this?”

  She wouldn’t answer. She thought of a hundred different excuses, but they were all lies. She wanted Thelma to get hurt, at that moment. It felt like the only way out. She wouldn’t dare say it, but she knew she’d harm a rabbit again if they cornered her.

  “I’m afraid we can’t welcome a violent horse back to the school,” he said. “I’ll have to report this to your family.”

  The ride home was far from comforting. Her father sat beside her in the horse box, completely silent. She felt so ashamed that she could not even look at him. By the time they made it home, she was stunned with fear. He dismissed their rabbit chauffeur without thanking her. She tried to catch his eye as she closed the front door.

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  “I’m sorry, Dad, I-”

  He shushed her. “We’ll talk when your mother gets home.”

  Laci immediately fled into her room.

  She looked up at her rack of rosettes. They dazzled her with their blue and red sheen, perfect gold lettering naming her winner of this, champion of that. She was that filly that’s good at everything: dressage, jumping, cross country. But as soon as rabbits got in her way, her talent didn’t matter in the face of her fears. If she couldn’t get over this, she’d be a wash-up. No one would pay a horse that can’t be sat on.

  She decided to go for a brisk walk, as she usually did when she needed a distraction. Rummaging around in her tack trunk, she dug up her second favorite pair of brushing boots and put them on. She loved the way they looked, but the stark red color could never be seen in the show ring. Pristine whites, mundane blacks, and the occasional brown or navy were the only colors she’d ever seen at competitions. She ducked out the back screen door to avoid her father’s judgement.

  The outside world was refreshing, the remnants of summer sun glittering on her coat. Her splashes of chrome looked brighter than ever in the afternoon light. The perfectly landscaped neighborhood was too familiar and boring to distract her, however. She wandered out toward the city’s center, hoping the busyness would get her mind off of the embarrassing morning.

  The street was bustling with activity: there was a rabbit’s high-wheeled gig being drawn by two identical Hackneys, equines of all kinds with and without riders flooding the path, and dozens of sleek horse boxes and trailers. She turned heads everywhere she went.

  “Do you think that filly’s broke? If she is, I’d kill to have her,” a rabbit on a cleanly clipped sport horse remarked to another. He stared at her form like she was a cut of meat on a butcher’s block.

  Laci trotted out of sight down an alleyway, lowering her head and clamping her tail. She wished she could disappear. The city’s principal riding ring, Crystalline North Arena, was usually empty about this time. She hurried there, hoping to get some time and space to herself.

  To her surprise, the street was packed with horses in a rush to get inside. She squeezed in among the crowd, interested to see what could cause such a ruckus. There was no show or gathering scheduled, or surely she would already know about it. She pressed through until she reached the cold slate archway, where the crowd started to disperse and find space to stand. Laci climbed up to the top, where the highest standing boxes were, and stared over the metal railings into the ring below.

  As soon as she looked down, her spirit faded. Two swan-white mares were practicing dressage in the ring, and their father stood by watching them. What annoyed Laci was that no other horses practicing in the public ring could create such a rally. Only Glacier and his flawless daughters garnered this much attention simply by trotting in circles for an hour. She was just about to leave, but the top boxes were filling, and she would be hard pressed to escape against the flow of incoming horses.

  Laci could see why he and his daughters had everyone entranced. They were all pristinely white with grey muzzles, not a marking tainting their body. Laci remembered that his younger daughter was born a chestnut, which Glacier had found embarrassing. She hadn’t been permitted to show until recently, when she went fully white. Now you could never guess what she must have looked like. She danced in a careful arc, legs floating over the ground, fleet as a gazelle. Laci’s stomach turned at the sight.

  “I didn’t expect this much of an audience at my daughters’ practice, but of course, it’s a pleasure to have you all here,” the stallion announced.

  Of course he expected an entourage. If he hadn’t wanted one, he’d keep fillies at home, where an even finer ring was available. Laci knew why he was here. To parade his daughters around like his playthings. They always seemed happy to oblige. A voice came from the crowd that Laci could not make out, but Glacier listened attentively.

  “What are they training for? My eldest, Serenity, is trying out for a spot on an internationally recognized dressage team. And I am so proud of my youngest, little Tempest. She is going to her first adult show this month,” he answered.

  Laci hardly listened to his chirping as she studied the two mares closer. She never bothered to watch their performances before, but she’d been told they were delightful. They seemed to be, from up in the standing box. Serenity was strictly devoted to her craft, moving as precisely as a guillotine blade. While Tempest had some young horse quirks, she was a promising prospect, better than horses twice her age. Something about it irked Laci. She leaned over the edge to get a better look.

  The riders were unremarkable-just two young doe rabbits in schooling clothes. They rode with a whip and spur, but so did every other dressage rider in the circuit. Laci squinted down at Tempest’s rider and noticed a pattern. Over and over again, she jabbed her horse’s side with the spur. Laci looked at the little horse’s eye and saw nothing but panic. The whites were starting to pop out from the edge, and it flickered with movement like a bullet train. Her facial muscles were strained, and she fussed with her double bit furiously, dripping foam. No one knew the rabbit was riding a time bomb.

  Meanwhile, on the other half of the ring, Serenity was far from her namesake. Although she had more finesse than her sister, she was no more composed. Her focus was glued to the floor as her rider demanded a shorter frame, working the rein harshly like a saw. Her trot seemed lively and full of impulsion, but Laci saw her strained stamping and a well-hidden tendon injury. When she was pushed into the canter, it became obvious-she was suspiciously short-strided and bobbed her head too much. Laci guessed by her narrow neck and pointed hips that she was awfully thin underneath her saddle and quarter sheet. Why was she wearing a quarter sheet? It was plenty warm outside. The more Laci watched, the more uncomfortable she became. Glacier gave a nod to the riders, and to her relief, they began cooling down the two mares.

  “If you’re interested, please contact me about my program for the show season. We’re looking for more promising young horses to compete and show off to new buyers,” he advertised.

  The sun was beginning to set, and Laci remembered what was waiting for her at home. She tried to push her way through the crowd, desperate to beat Glacier to the gate. In no time, he would be swarmed with followers, blocking the exit. She clattered down the stairs and whipped around the corner, only to be met with the stallion’s back, standing in the doorway.

  “Excuse me,” she called out nervously.

  He turned and looked at her for a moment, still not allowing her to leave. “Oh, I remember you! You’re Pride of Lebanon’s little girl. You take after your mother with that coloring, I see,” he observed.

  “Yes, I’ve actually got to hurry home now, I’m sorry,” she attempted.

  He refused to move. “I’m sure old Lebanon isn’t going to mind if you’re just catching up with a friend of his. You’ve grown so tall, Laci. How old are you now? Have you shown at all yet? I’m surprised I haven’t heard anything.”

  Laci swung her head in annoyance, pinning her ears involuntarily. Glacier was slightly horrified but backed off.

  “I’m so sorry,” Laci apologized as she pushed past him, speeding out to her neighborhood. What was her problem today? She jumped the neighbor’s fence to get home faster, and slammed through the porch door to face the music.

  “I’m changing schools? And to Brimstone Academy, of all places.” Laci slammed her hoof on the table and turned away from her parents.

  “You don’t have a choice. That rabbit was very displeased,” her father said.

  “I don’t belong at that dump. The ponies there are criminals,” she protested.

  “Sweetie, of course you don’t belong there. That’s why you’ve got to prove yourself on your first day.” Her mother looked at her with doe eyes.

  “It’s a temporary arrangement, Laci. You’ll be out of there in no time if you adjust your attitude,” her father advised.

  “Don’t expect me to enjoy it. Horses complain about Brimstone for a reason. It’s full of good-for-nothing grade horses with no future,” she spat. “And I won’t even be able to go to practice tonight. Can’t jump for a team I’m not on anymore.”

  “I’m sure Brimstone has its own jumping team. They’d probably love to have you,” her mother encouraged.

  Laci nearly choked on her drink. “I am not spending any more time there than I absolutely have to.” She stomped up the stairs and disappeared into her bedroom to sulk. Mere moments after she flopped onto her bed, she heard her mother tapping lightly on her door.

  “Mom, what do you want?” Laci snapped.

  The door slowly creaked open. Her mother’s face was weary. She sat down next to Laci and wrapped an arm around her, tucking her close.

  “Laci, I was not unlike you at all when I was a filly,” her mother whispered.

  Laci could hear her mother’s heartbeat with her head against her chest, and it was strangely soothing. “What do you mean?”

  “When I was two years old, I was started early. It was a complete failure. I pitched my rider to the dirt, and my parents insisted I just wasn’t ready. I promised to start over when I was three. I practiced, I always had good marks in school, but didn’t find the right rider until I was four. Even then, I had a reputation for being a little firecracker. I married your father and had you not long after-just to get out of it,” she explained. “I don’t condone that, but listen to this, if nothing else. You can be anything you want, Laci. Don’t rush yourself. You have many years ahead of you to get it right.”

  Laci nestled herself further in her mother’s arms. “I saw Glacier and his daughters today. I always thought they were perfect, but I don’t know anymore.”

  Her mother’s ears tipped back slightly, the way they do when she hears bad news. “Glacial Divinity? Don’t meddle with him, Laci. He’s an old friend of your father’s-but he’s no friend of mine. He discouraged us from getting married, and said I wasn’t good enough. He’s influential, but that doesn’t mean he’s kind.”

  “Do you think he treats his daughters well?” Laci blurted out.

  She patted Laci’s shoulder comfortingly. “I have no idea. You should get some rest, little filly. You have a big day tomorrow.”