To See the Stars

Snow swirls all around me and up into the sky, piling in enormous mounds and drifts thathide me from the eyes of the world. No one on two feet can find me here, in this little nook, where the rocks and the winds keep me safe from the castle of icy skies overhead. All that reaches my ears is whistling, rushing, and howling. Even the forest seems a lifetime away. Hiding is so wonderful.

Eventually, a steady crunching noise becomes audible, magnified by the open tundra, and when I stand to look out and investigate, a dark spot is marring the horizon. I hide once more. I don’t want to be found now, even though I know that it’s just Jullo. This is my peaceful world and I desperately want to stay.

Minutes pass; the crunching swells. Finally, Jullo’s vaguely sarcastic but still concerned voice rings out. “I know you’re there.”

I remain silent.

“If I could change their minds, I would. But you can’t just run away.”

Standing, I glare out at his long, shaggy face. “You have claws and fangs! You’re four times their size! Couldn’t you do anything?”

“They hatched me. I’m bound to them.”

“But you’re mine!”

He laughs and leans his great brown head down toward me. “Because they gave me to you. They’re your parents. You have to go back eventually.”

“Jullo,” I sigh, “they want me to get married. I hate men. You know that."

“You could always marry me…”

I laugh and throw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his thick, warm fur. “I wish. You’re almost as far from human as they come.”

Jullo flattens his ears out to the sides, rather like a cat. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re six feet tall on all fours,” I start, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand. “You’ve got a big long nose and floppy little ears. Your teeth could crush a boulder in one bite. Your paws are the size of a giant’s dinner plates. Your eyes have no whites. You’ve got all this long, shaggy fur all over the place, you walk on four feet, and you have a <i>tail!”</i>

He nuzzles me with his dry nose, nearly knocking me over. “All true. But no matter what your parents say, I will protect you. It’s what I was born for.”

“I know,” I whisper. “I just want to marry who and when I want to marry. Not one of the village idiots, and not now. I’ve got a whole life ahead of me. So many adventures!”

Jullo just bares his teeth in a lopsided grin and settles down on his knees. “It’s awfully cold out here. Shouldn’t we at least find somewhere a bit warmer, if we’re going to boycott marriage?”

A low sigh escapes my throat; I know that Jullo will only take me home, since he’s bound to my parents and has to follow their orders. Also, I know that he’s too concerned about me to leave me in the cold. Hesitantly, I climb onto his back and lean down between his shoulderblades, inhaling his warm scent. “Let’s go.”

His usual excitement kicks in, and he starts to run across the tundra, his long, trunk-like legs sending him over huge mounds of snow with the greatest ease. However, as we draw closer to home, he slows to a gentle lumber, and I nearly fall asleep in the cozy pillow of his long, sweet-smelling fur. It always surprises me that he smells so nice, rather like cinnamon and a touch of fresh hay; the Sylnia are such huge, cumbersome beasts that they look rather stinky, but they’re in fact quite clean. Jullo isn’t a tundra boy; his father is, but his mother retained the darker fur and wing nubs of subspecies from the south, where it’s warmer. Both are quite friendly, rather unlike my strict, easily-angered parents, who own them.

I hide low in Jullo’s fur as we pass through the village. Curious eyes wander our way, but nobody notices me; I’m small and dark, and I attract little attention on a regular basis. At least, I didn’t before, but now that I’ve grown up a little, the boys in town watch me as if I’m the last pig in the butcher’s shop. They’re rough boys, hunters and fighters all. Though I’m no tender flower myself, I’d expect any of them to treat a wife more like a trophy or a piece of furniture than a friend. I’ve heard that women aren’t treated the same way down south, way down, and that some even get to pick their own husbands. I wouldn’t know for sure; I’ve never left the frigid tundra where I was born.

Finally, our house looms. Jullo’s parents, Jethro and Myanes, look up to greet us as we pass; their eyes are dull, which most likely means that my parents are quite angry. I tangle my fingers in Jullo’s fur absentmindedly. He will protect me from anything; though he’s still bound to my parents, the rituals which bestowed him upon me are stronger.

“Aillad!”

With that, my parents are here. My mother responds to my father’s call and rushes forward to grab Jullo’s neck, pulling us both into the yard next to the house. My father, Simmon, grasps my arm and pulls me to the ground without letting Jullo kneel; he yelps as I hit the earth, and the wind is knocked out of me.

“Helin Laine Simmon,” my father growls, using the most official name possible, “what the hell did you just do?”

“I left,” I gasp. Jullo shuffles a little bit closer to me, fixing Simmon with one huge, coppery-brown eye.

“You left?” snaps Aillad. “You ran away for no reason! You openly defied your parents and your community! If you continue to behave like this, we’ll have to send you away and let someone else find you a husbadn. Believe me, he’ll be much worse than any of the boys here.”

I try not to roll my eyes as I stand and stretch my legs slowly. “Mother, I’m seventeen. I can’t even legally marry for another year!”

“Then you should be looking!”

“I have!” I scream, stepping forward, eyes blazing. “I have and not one man here would treat me like a human!”

Simmon’s hand hits my face before I see it coming—the world freezes—and Jullo has pushed me to the ground, standing over me and growling, while my face pounds and pulses. That’s going to make a nasty bruise. Shouts ring out, but all I hear is the grumbling sound that shakes Jullo’s entire body and even the ground beneath me. And then he’s walking away, his hackles still raised but his head drooped. Aillad whispers something to Simmon, who nods and sends her off.

“Come with me, Helin.”

It’s no use arguing now. I’m not afraid to fight without Jullo, but I don’t want him to end up getting hurt for me. He was only trying to follow my parents’ orders, the first and foremost of which was always to protect me.

I wonder if it still is.

Simmon leads me to my room and pushes me in with none of his occasional gentleness. He is very angry. If he manages to find a wealthy enough suitor, he’ll be paid to marry me off; he wants that money. “We’re taking you into the village tomorrow, and you’d better be at your most charming,” he growls, his voice utterly unforgiving. “You were born to marry. You had better not let us down now.”

He slams the door, and I hear him turn the lock and tramp away. I might as well sleep. But as I lay down on the small straw pallet I use as a bed, pulling the scratchy blanket up to my chin, I wonder: is marriage every happy? Isn’t it supposed to be about love? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a couple in this village who looked glad to be together. And I’m just about certain that the only being I’ve ever loved is Jullo.

Though these thoughts are disconcerting, I slip into an angry sort of half-sleep. Right before I reach unconsciousness, something next to my heart twinges, like a pang or a stab or some sort of strange emotion, and then the world goes black.