Grall hurried Izzy away from his friends. That was fine by her, she wanted to get home as quickly as possible - or rather, back to the farm. "Crap. Crap. CRAP!' he shouted upset; she could feel the trembling in his hands from the reins and how they pulled more roughly than necessary on the bit in her mouth. But worse than that, she felt the sting of the whip on her bottom; she grumbled, but whatever got her out of here faster was fine with her for now. Her tired legs drummed over the dusty path at a fast pace and Izzy's mind raced with them; it was a wild jumble of ideas, hope and worries. Even without the bit, she wouldn't have been able to get a word out.
The courtyard was the usual bustle of activity as it always was at this time of day and only Oozol took any notice of their return. The old goblin sat in his rocking chair, enjoying the day and puffing on his pipe. "You're back early, did the whip work well?" He laughed lightly. "Don't hold it against him, Buttercup. I remember getting my first whip as a youngster. The poor ponygirl had to endure a lot over the next few weeks. But that's the way young men are; you'll get used to it." She grumbled; why did she have to get used to it? But of course she knew why: he was the rider with the whip, she was the horse that was driven with it. "Something's wrong, I can see it in your eyes. Go on, tell me."
"Maybe it's nothing at all..." Grall mumbled, forcing a fake smile.
Izzy shook her head vigorously until Grall finally took the bit out.
"Kreks wants me as his ponygirl. But I'm not a ponygirl, I don't belong to anyone!" She stamped so hard that one of the horses was spooked and threw its rider off. The groom looked angrily at Izzy, but she didn't care. To hell with them, this was about her future!
The old goblin sighed. "You two are still young, you don't understand how the world works. Everything has its rules, and you can't always choose them. People see you as a rider and a horse, so they expect you to behave like that."
"It's all your fault Grall, just because you had to show them that you had a ponygirl!"
"I'm really, really sorry!" he blurted out. They had developed a certain routine with these conversations, which got on Izzy's nerves. She couldn't buy anything from his apologies either...
"You have to tell them that you don't own me and that I'm not a ponygirl!"
"There's another way of looking at it," Oozol disagreed, to Izzy's horror. "We goblins are governed by customary law. Buttercup, you can't let a goblin ride you almost every day - even with a horse bit, whip and ponytail! - and then think you're not a horse. For crying out loud, even at this moment my son is riding you! That's just silly. Make it official - or stop it altogether. You're both confused and don't know where you belong. But if you're not careful, that choice will be taken away from you."
"I can't go on!" said Izzy, her whole body shaking. "Kreks wrote down the registration number and said I'd be confiscated if there was anything wrong with it.
Oozols crossed his arms. "Krek's father visited the farm recently to enquire about Grall's horse. That struck me as a bit odd. Tell me exactly what he said." Grall swallowed and didn't miss a single detail. "So he's serious," Oozol said thoughtfully. "They must have planned this together, it's unlikely that Kreks knows the law that well. That leaves us little time to act."
"They're not really going to confiscate me and put me up for auction, are they?" Izzy shouted anxiously. "That's not possible!"
Deep wrinkles appeared on the old goblin's forehead, the likes of which Izzy had never seen before. "We live close to the humans here, and many of our rules and laws are not enforced for the sake of peace. We don't capture girls here and we don't force them under the saddle. All the ponygirls come from far away so they don't have a family and history in this land. If Krek's father claims that Buttercup was forced, my son could be punished for it. A lack of registration is a strong argument in his favour. But even if Buttercup was a ponygirl by choice, it wouldn't change anything because there are now too many goblins who have seen her as a mare; they'll argue that she's already a horse and forced registration is necessary - if Kreks beats us to it, Buttercup becomes his property. You must understand that there is a deep belief among us goblins that a ponygirl is no longer human and therefore cannot return to its kind. Whether you are a human or a ponygirl would be decided by a council that has never released a girl. In other cases, perhaps the humans would intervene, but your school should be a warning to us that this may not happen with you." Oozol paused and looked Izzy straight in the eyes. "If Krek's father lays claim to you, you may soon bear his brand." He slapped her on the spot where Grall's symbol was painted on.
Grall had gone completely pale. "We have to protect Izzy. There must be something we can do!"
"Krek's father is a tough guy. He didn't get rich by passing up opportunities. No, this is a serious situation. There's only one solution: we need to register Buttercup as soon as possible. We need copies of the official documents and we also need the number on her. Only when we are sure that everything is in order and up to date will she be safe."
"That's impossible!", Grall objected vigorously. "I promised her that I wouldn't force her! I won't break that promise. Never! To hell with Kreks, if he gets too close to Izzy, I'll crack the whip across his face!"
"I don't want that!" A tear ran down Izzy's face. "There must be another way." Grall stroked her head reassuringly from the saddle and Izzy pressed herself against his hand. It was clearly all his fault, but the touch still felt good.
Oozol crossed his arms. "If only you had ridden her unseen, we would have options. But there are too many witnesses and evidence. None of us here is forcing Buttercup, but we can't change the laws. If we don't do it, Krek's father will." The conversation had not escaped the notice of the grooms or the horses; they stood conspicuously unobtrusive nearby, listening. "It's Buttercup's choice. She must decide."
Grall shook his head. "She's not a real ponygirl, she's just playing!" His voice cracked; Izzy knew that tone all too well - it was the voice of the little boy she'd known for so many years, desperately rebelling in the evening against the fact that the sun was already setting and their fun was about to end for the day.
Izzy nodded vigorously. "I'm not a horse!" she said again, although of course she realised the irony of her situation. It wasn't easy to say something like that with the big plug of a ponytail stuck up your bum and a tax tag paid for by Grall rubbing against your thigh.
"I hope you both realise how stupid that sounds," Oozol grumbled. "We're goblins, we ride humans. We've been doing it for hundreds of years; it's part of our faith! It's a very delicate matter when you live so close to humans, as we do. There are laws - those of the humans, and those of us goblins - that protect our peace, including making a clear distinction between humans and ponygirls. With Buttercup here, it should be clear by now which side she belongs to."
"Then I'll just stop. We deny everything!" Izzy howled again.
