Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow - Jessica Day George [7]
“You did see it,” Hans Peter breathed. His face brightened. “Was it magnificent?”
“It was,” she agreed, bouncing a little on the cot at the memory.
“How close did you get?”
“Very close.” She gave a muffled little laugh. “Very.”
He marveled at her. “You caught the white reindeer?”
“Some brambles caught it for me,” she whispered, leaning in even closer. “And I felt so badly for it that I freed it without a care for whether it was white or brown. And so it—” But then she stopped. It had granted her a boon, not the one she had first asked for, but a priceless gift nonetheless.
“It granted your wish?” Hans Peter waited for her nod. “I’m guessing that you didn’t wish for a new cottage or dinner not to be burned ever again,” he said with a soft laugh.
The girl closed her eyes, feeling foolish. Of course, she should have asked for a new house! Or a soup pot that never ran empty. Or a purse of gold.
“It did offer me a rich dowry,” she mumbled.
“But you didn’t take it, because you’re too wise for that,” he said, patting her hand. “Too wise to wish this lot of ingrates to have a golden palace.”
“I should have—”
“You should not have,” he assured her. “Please tell me that, just this once, you wanted something for yourself.”
“I did,” she blushed, lowering her head.
“What was it, if I may ask?”
“A name.”
There was silence then. For a long time, brother and sister sat together, not moving. Then Hans Peter let go of her cold hand and put his arm around her, holding her tight to his warm side. “Ah, my little lass,” he said finally. “What a treasure to give you, you who have not even a name to call your own.”
“Would you . . . would you like to hear it?” she choked out. She had not thought of how awkward it was going to be, telling her parents that she had a name after all these years. And what if they asked where she had gotten it? It was a beautiful name, but anyone who heard it would know that it was not from these lands.
“No,” Hans Peter said quietly. “You keep it safe; keep it close inside your heart. There are places in this world where not having a name is a lucky thing, a saving thing.” His gaze was directed far beyond their cabin walls.
The girl shivered a little, seeing the bleakness of his expression. “But why have a name if no one knows it?” she whispered.
“One day there will be a time and place for your name,” he told her. “But until then, perhaps you’re better off being our pika.”
“Your lass.”
“My lass,” he agreed, tweaking a strand of her hair.
They heard the cabin door bang open, and Askel’s voice roaring below. Hans Peter rolled his eyes, and his youngest sister laughed, and they went down the ladder together to face their brother.
Chapter 4
It was a little while before the lass noticed that something about her had changed. Her family did not keep a cat, and the reindeer were tended by her brother Einar. They had a few chickens, but chickens were not great conversationalists, and if the lass noticed that she could understand their cackling, it didn’t stick in her mind.
It wasn’t until Jorunn and her husband, Nils, came for a visit, bringing with them their half-grown hunting dog, that the lass noticed it. The dog was a leggy animal with a sweet temperament that loved to sit by the fire while Hans Peter carved. When anyone came near, it would thump its tail on the floor and give him or her a look that was almost a smile.
The second night of Jorunn’s visit, the lass was making lefse. As she lifted one off the hot griddle with the flat stick, she heard a voice say, “That looks tasty.”
Thinking it was Hans Peter, she grinned over at him. “Thank you. Do you want a bit?”
“Hmm?” Hans Peter looked up from his carving. “What did you say?”
“I asked if you wanted a bit of lefse.”
“Not really.” He made a face. “I don’t like them plain.”
“Then why did you say it looked tasty?” She deftly transferred the flat disk of bread to