Lisette and the Unicorn

Lisette sang to herself as she skipped out of the village by the woods, away from the clustered dwellings of her home. There was plenty of open space in which to build, but the people of the village by the woods had constructed their mud brick homes so closely together that there were places where Lisette had to turn sideways to slip between. As a girl of fourteen, that was very close together indeed.

Most times, when it was cold and dark, the nearness of her fellow villagers was a comfort. Everyone knew everyone else and even in a room alone (if you were lucky enough to have one!), knowing that friends and relatives were less than a stone’s throw away was pleasant.

Yet Lisette was young. When the sun was high in the sky and the wind in the trees, she took every chance she could to get away. Especially from her stepmother. Her father’s second wife was not cruel, but she was hardly nice. Most times, she acted as if Lisette were not even there, sometimes to the point of talking about her to her father in her very presence. When she did notice Lisette, it was usually to ask her to do some minor chore or to criticize her.

While Lisette was not a slave like in those fairy tales where stepmother’s beat their poor, but pretty, daughters and made them do all the work, she still sometimes cried herself to sleep at night when her stepmother told her that her dress was a rag, or her hair was dirty, or her face spotty.

Tonight, Lisette’s stepmother was inviting some of her friends over to eat at their home. It had been a good year for Lisette’s father, who was a trader, and having enough food to share was a special occasion. Her stepmother wanted everyone in the village by the woods to know that their fortunes were rising.

Lisette had been sent into the woods to gather herbs for the evenings’ meal and it couldn’t have been a finer day. Honey-colored light fell on the spring green of the woods, bringing out the different colors in each of the trees. Never had Lisette thought there could be so many shades of green.

She held her skirts with one hand, a woven basket swinging from the other. As the hours went by, Lisette slowly added herbs to the basket, but more and more she grew distracted by the sunlight and birdsong. The sun began to dip low on the horizon and sweet shade swallowed the woods.

Lisette was beginning to think it was time to turn back, though her stepmother would likely scold her for coming back with so little, when she caught sight of something shining off the path.

She shaded her eyes from the last of the sunbeams to pierce the canopy and peered closer. There was definitely something there, a sliver of white next to a tree. Curious, the girl stepped gingerly off the path, holding her skirts higher to avoid the extra scolding that coming home with nettles clinging to her hem would bring her. The shining white was further off the path than it had looked, but she could make out a little more of it now. It looked like white hair, rustling silently on the evening breeze. Perhaps someone was leaning against the tree?

Two more steps brought her around the tree and saw clearly what was there. What she had thought was hair was in fact the tail of a white pony, holding very still. It was perhaps as tall as she was and was perfectly white, from its snowy hide to its glittering mane and tale.

Lisette cold not suppress a gasp at the pony’s beauty and the beast turned. The girl didn’t know what to think, for before her was no pony or horse. The animal had thick ruffs of hair around its hooves like the Clydesdales that her father had told her of and it sported a curling white beard. As strange as the animal was, all of Lisette’s attention was fastened on the silvery spiral horn sprouting from the beast’s brow.

“It’s a unicorn!” Lisette whispered.

“Yes, child. I am,” the unicorn replied. Its voice was much deeper than she expected, but it as smooth like the bolt of silk her father let her touch before packing it away to be taken to market.

“Oh, you can talk?”

“Of course I can talk,” the beast answered. Lisette couldn’t help feeling that she had made a bit of a fool of herself in front of the unicorn. She held her basket in front of her, toeing the mossy turf at her feet and trying not to stare.

“Would you like to ride me?” The beast asked.

“Oh, could I?” Lisette was overjoyed, she had begun to worry that she had offended the noble creature and that it would bound away never to be seen again. After all, the fairy tales said that unicorns were impossible to catch.

The unicorn dipped its head slowly in a stately nod. Lisette remembered that only virgin girls, only those of pure heart could ride unicorns and this made her feel better. The unicorn lifted one of its forelegs for her to use as a step and waited patiently.

Fearful to keep the gentle animal waiting, Lisette hurried to its side, leaving her herb basket in the brush. The beast did not flinch or shuffle as she hesitantly put her foot atop its lifted leg and hopped onto its back.

Lisette folded her legs demurely to one side and slipped her hands into the unicorn’s silky mane. “Is it okay if I hold onto your mane?”

“Yes, child. Grip tightly, you will mot hurt me.”

“It’s so beautiful,” Lisette whispered, but the animal did not respond. Instead it sprang away into the forest causing the girl to clench her hands into fists. She hoped that the unicorn indeed did not feel this for she was grasping very hard not to fall off.

The unicorn bounded over fallen trees and over high brush without once missing a step and soon Lisette’s fear was left behind. The ride was exhilarating and fast. Lisette had never felt so free. Though the light was failing, the unicorn never slowed. It jumped and galloped, weaving through the trees and never once did a branch or limb catch at Lisette. With a toss of its head, the unicorn would sweep aside hanging branches with its horn and ride on.

Soon it was full dark and the unicorn began to slow. When the animal stopped, Lisette dismounted, laughing gleefully. “Oh, that was wonderful!”

The unicorn dipped its bearded chin in another nod, peeling its lips back in an equine grin and revealing teeth as white as its coat.

“Where are we?” Lisette asked, still winded from her wild ride through the woods.

“We have come to my den,” the unicorn answered her. A sweep of its silvery horn encompassed a large glen near a pond, flowers twining around every tree and decorating the mossy mounds.

Lisette spun on one heel taking it all in. The moon had begun to rise and light the clearing making the unicorn’s coat seem to glow. “Excuse me,” Lisette began haltingly. She wanted to be polite to the wonderful creature. “Do you grant wishes?”

“Oh, dear child, no.” The unicorn pawed at the turf with one of its front hooves. “No, unicorns don’t grant wishes. I have brought you here for another reason.”

Lisette tried to hide her disappointment; the unicorn had been very kind to her. She had only planned to ask the unicorn to make her stepmother nicer, not to make her go away or anything. The wonderful animal did say there was another reason, maybe the unicorn was going to give her some gold?

“What reason is that?”

“I am hungry, child,” the beast said.

“Hungry? Do I get to have dinner with you?” Lisette’s hopes of treasure faded, but this was still the most magical day of her short life.

“No, young one, I am going to eat you.”

“Wh-what?” Lisette stammered. “But th-the fairy tales…” Fear began to rattle the girl’s voice.

“The fairy tales…are wrong.” The creature laughed loudly. “Haven’t you ever wondered why the people of the village by the woods make their homes from clay and not of wood? They have the sense to stay out of MY forest”

Lisette backed away shaking her head in mute denial. Her foot turned on a moss slippery stone and she fell. The girl looked right and left frantically, searching for a way out, or for some sign that this was a dream. She began to clamor over the mossy mound behind her, but froze.

The lush green plants clung, not to stones, but to bones. Animal and human bones. Lisette looked up to see the unicorn had cantered silently around her.

The girl’s screams echoed over the forest and could even be heard in the village by the woods, but no one ever went to look for her. They held her funeral the next day.