Tinderbox Under Winter Stars

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Tinderbox Under Winter Stars Page 3

by Emma Sterner-Radley


  “How so?” Elise asked.

  The woman scowled. “They make them seem mystical and all-knowing. Secret rituals and stealthy ways to succeed in business and such silly things. Soon, Storsund’s rich wanted to join, too. That was when it really grew. It was not long before they controlled our government. Now not only are they our military, but transport, trade, and medical care all have Joiners Square’s silver and yellow emblem stuck on them. At least here in the south.” She shook her head. “They’re everywhere. Their spies and their soldiers surround us. Only a small number question them, and they’re all forced into hiding. I should stop talking now, you’ll learn more about them if you stay here for a while, yes?”

  Elise and Nessa glanced at each other. Elise took her lover’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

  “Yes, we’re staying for a while, I think,” Nessa said.

  The older woman brushed her sleeve off. “Good. Enough about Joiners Square for now, then. I should like to buy you a coffee as a thank-you for your help.”

  Elise looked at Nessa, who nodded.

  “That sounds lovely. I think Nessa here would most of all like a hearty second breakfast and to be away from a family we met on our travels. Is there a quiet place nearby where we can get some food?”

  “Yes. Down that street is a cafe. It has coffee and pastries and some… what do you call them? Sandwiches, yes?”

  Nessa’s face lit up. “That’d do nicely. Thank you.”

  “You two go ahead, I shall go bid the Lindbergs farewell. And discuss meeting up in the future,” Elise said.

  The stranger inclined her head. “Of course. We’ll be in that cafe down there. Blue sign, white letters.”

  Elise kissed Nessa’s cheek. “I shall meet you there soon.”

  With that she walked into the inn where the Lindbergs had gone. Guilt ate at her for giving them the brushoff, but they’d been glued to her and Nessa these past weeks, annoying Nessa and sometimes testing Elise’s short temper. She had exploded at them a dozen times, something they didn’t seem to mind. As long as she spoke to them and occasionally asked questions, they were happy with whatever mood she was in.

  Which is why they struggled with Nessa’s silences and need for solitude, I suppose, she considered, as she looked out over the street. Never mind that. Buck up. This will surely not be the last I see of the Lindberg family.

  She hurried her steps to the inn, fastening a smile to her face.

  Chapter 4

  New Experiences

  Nessa shivered as she followed the woman to the cafe. The adrenaline had left her system now, leaving her cold and tired. And starving as a marrow-oxen.

  The stranger stopped outside the cafe. Nessa wanted to ask her name, but in her social ineptitude, she was unsure how. Should she just introduce herself?

  “Here we are,” the woman was saying. “Good food for good price, yes? Much of it served warm. Plenty of strong coffee, too.”

  She pointed to a tall chalkboard next to the cafe’s door. Written in small letters was what Nessa assumed was the menu.

  Her cheeks burned. “I can’t read that. I’m sorry.”

  “Ah, of course. Under sandwiches it says, ‘bread choices’, yes? You have rye, oat, or wheat. Then the fillings. Pork and soured cream, reindeer and herbal butter, venison and strong cheese, egg and smoked —”

  “Sorry to interrupt. Would you mind if we go inside to decide? My nose is about to freeze off, I think,” Elise said as she joined them.

  There it was, the warmth which always appeared in Nessa’s chest when Elise was next to her. She took Elise’s hand and felt safer.

  “Good idea,” the stranger said and opened the door for them.

  They were faced with a steep set of stairs. As they climbed them, they saw a bright locale with birch floor and beige walls. Dainty tables with white linen cloths and elegant menus. It was pretty, but so… foreign. The unease in Nessa’s stomach was replaced by a loud growling.

  A smile twitched at the corners of the stranger’s mouth. “Sounds like we need food quick, yes? Pick a table. I’ll order coffee and cheeses while we choose what to eat. Be back soon.”

  Elise chose a table by a window. The warm room had misted the window glass with condensation. Nessa sat down next to her and picked up the menu. She was relieved to see that it had Arclidian translations of the dishes on one side.

  Elise whispered. “Coffee and cheese? I would understand a drink and some bread before the meal. But coffee and… cheese?”

  “A new continent, new ways, I suppose. I just hope I can eat and drink it,” Nessa murmured.

  She chewed her lower lip until Elise reached out a finger and pulled the lip out from under the teeth. “It will be fine. If you cannot stand it, I will order you something plain.”

  Nessa smiled a little, the shame of her own fearfulness making her cheeks burn again.

  The stranger walked back with big, confident steps. She placed a tray on the table. On it were cups and saucers, objects Nessa had only seen in the windows of Nightport’s finest taverns. There, they had been chipped and plain. These cups and saucers were bright white with blue flowers around the thin rim. Nessa worried she’d break her cup.

  In them was something so darkly brown it was almost black. It smelled strong, like a mix of nuts and alcohol, perhaps? Steam danced on the air above the dark liquid.

  The tray also contained a plate with little cubes of cheese. Most of them were the buttery yellow of the cheese Nessa had grown up with, but a few were white with streaks of blue or green through them. She tried to hide her scepticism. Those white cubes looked like the fruit of some poisonous mushroom.

  Nessa’s stomach growled again. Elise picked up one of the yellow cubes of cheese, sniffed it, and smiled.

  “Time to feed the monster in your stomach, heartling,” Elise said with a wink. She still hadn’t mastered winking, so both her eyes briefly closed.

  She brought the cube to Nessa’s mouth, pressing it against her lips. Nessa took the cheese and kissed the fingers, playing along with the pretence that it was flirtation and not Elise saving her the embarrassment of asking for the plainest, safest food.

  Nessa chewed and swallowed. “Mm, that was nice. Creamy!”

  “Yes, we take pride in our dairy,” the stranger said while picking up one of the cups.

  Nessa ate another piece of cheese and eyed her coffee, wondering how hot it was.

  Their hostess cleared her throat. “I must thank you again. Thank you for catching the… um, wrongdoer?”

  “The thief?” Elise offered.

  “Yes. The thief. Thank you. My Arclidian is rusty, yes? It will come back to me as we speak.”

  Elise held up her hands. “Your Arclidian is splendid. We do not even speak your language at all.”

  “Languages. There are two, Sundish and Vissian. I speak both but mainly Sundish, which is the language of the south. So, it is used here as well as in my native Skarhult and the other big cities of Storsund.”

  Nessa and Elise looked at each other.

  “Skarhult?” Elise asked.

  “Yes. One of the biggest cities in Storsund, only a train ride away.”

  Nessa smiled and nodded. “We know that much, I’m happy to say. We were only asking because that is where we’re heading.”

  “What a coincidence,” the woman said.

  Elise clapped her hand on the table. “How silly! I just realised that we have not introduced ourselves yet. I am Elise Glass, and this is my wife, Nessa Glass.”

  Nessa did a double-take. Being called Elise’s wife was still startling. But it did have a nice ring to it.

  “Well met. I’m Anja Ahlgren. Welcome to Storsund. Although, perhaps I should welcome you home?” she said, looking at Elise.

  Elise’s forehead furrowed. “Pardon?”

  “You… are not a Wayfarer?”

  The furrows grew deeper. “As in that I travel?”

  Anja shook her head. “I mean a Wayfarer as
in the creed. No? My mistake. I thought you were born here. Your darker skin, black hair, and light eyes… you look like my kind.”

  Elise tilted her head. “Your kind? I thought Storsund folk were fair-skinned blondes interspersed with people who had immigrated from the other continents.”

  “No. Our continent, like yours, is split into sections. Arclid has the Highlands, Midlands, and the Lowlands, yes? We have the north, Vitevall, snow, pine trees, and mountains, mainly. And the south, Sund, where most of the cities and leafy forests are. And, these days, where most of the railways and factories are located.”

  Elise’s eyes lit up. “Is this Wite... Vit… Vitevall where your folk come from?”

  Anja gave a brusque shake of the head. All her movements seemed rough. “The proud Viss live up in Vitevall. Lightest of blonde hair and skin so white you can see the blue veins under it. Flat noses and sparkling dark eyes. They live apart, not fond of the south’s noise and… What is the word…” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Oh yes, commercialism. You have the Sundes here in the south, more mixed appearances but often pale with red or blonde hair. Then you have my people, the Wayfarers. Dark hair, light eyes, tan skin. We and the Viss tend to be more muscular than the Sundes, something that Joiners Square hates. They want their Sund soldiers to fill out those strict uniforms of theirs, and not with fat.”

  “No immigration?” Elise asked.

  “Other people have started braving our shores, and most of us are happy about that. Soon we will be a melting pot of all traits and colourings, like Arclid. Not a day too soon. We need change, yes? The separation of the three creeds on this continent is horrible.”

  Nessa ate another cube of yellow cheese. Elise, however, seemed to have forgotten all about the food and drink. She sat forward on her chair. “I see. Fascinating! You are very knowledgeable, I must say.”

  Anja blew on her coffee. “About this? Anyone from Storsund knows this. I might be a little more interested as I’m a historian.”

  Elise bounced forward in her seat. “Are you? Do you school children?”

  “No. I used to. A few years ago, I left to write down some of our history. Especially that of the Wayfarers. I am two-thirds into the book. Writing it day and night, yes? But the typing became slowed after this happened,” she said, lifting her right arm so that the hand’s enamel glittered in the light from the window.

  “I am so exceedingly sorry to hear that. Would it be rude to ask how that happened?” Elise broke in.

  Nessa closed her eyes. Why did her ladylove never think before she spoke? “That’s inappropriate,” she whispered.

  Anja smiled. “That’s all right. You may ask. I don’t mind. What I mind is when people stare without daring to ask questions, yes? Don’t treat me differently.”

  She handed them both their cups and saucers, seeming to plan her words. Nessa wondered if it was to translate them or because it was a hard subject to speak of.

  “I was skiing in the mountains with two friends. Below our peak, workers were laying railroad tracks, yes? To transport the north’s raw materials, timber, stone, and blocks of ice, to the rest of the country. And then returning with luxury goods form the south. Important work.”

  “But not without danger?” Elise suggested.

  “Exactly. Their work set off an avalanche. As I and my friends tried to get away from the oncoming snow, we crashed down the mountain side. My arm got—” she paused, tapping the table again. “Fastened? Wedged? Yes, wedged between rocks that came tumbling down. One of my friends only got big bruises. The other, Matthias, got a bad head wound and died.”

  Nessa didn’t know what to say. Even Elise seemed to struggle until she managed to whisper, “I am so sorry for your loss.”

  “Matthias was the loss. The arm, it was one of those things that happens. Those things that life sends to test you. I do not cry and moan. I still write, but I’m bad with my left hand. Anyway, let us speak of nicer things. Try your coffee, yes? I want to see what you make of it.”

  Elise tried hers first. She blew on it, like Anja had, and then took the daintiest sip. The face she made was as if she had filled her mouth with ash.

  Anja laughed, deep and heartily. “You can soften the taste with milk if you like. Or sharpen it with vodka. Have you tried vodka?”

  As Elise was busy eating cheese to remove the taste of the coffee, Nessa replied. “Yes, that made it over the sea to Arclid. I had it in a cocktail. Strong stuff. I’d like to try it on its own.”

  “That can be arranged, yes? Try your coffee first.”

  Nessa tasted it with trepidation.

  Remember that Elise made a face when she tried the ale in the Goblin’s Tavern, too. She’s a former lady-in-waiting and almost became a princess. She’s got a spoiled palate.

  The taste was strange. It changed in her mouth, from bitter to rich, from harsh to nutty sweetness. It somehow tasted as hot as its temperature.

  “I… don’t not like it,” Nessa settled on.

  “That’s how it starts. A few cups and you’ll love it,” Anja said with a smile.

  Elise tilted her cup so that the dark liquid sloshed. “Do you usually have this with cheese? The Lindbergs, the family on the ship over here, said it is drunk near constantly.”

  “We drink it with every meal and usually in between them, too. Keeps you warm, yes? Not simply because it is hot, but because it makes your heart race. Also wakes up the brain,” Anja said between sips.

  A waiter came over, and Nessa dove into her menu. She ordered a rye sandwich with pork and soured cream. Elise hadn’t paid attention to the menu and began scrabbling through the Arclidian translations of the dishes.

  “Take your time. I can order next,” Anja said. She turned to the waiter and offered him a short sentence. The words sounded complicated. He wrote it down, as he had Nessa’s order. Elise was still staring at the menu as if she wanted it to give up its secrets. Her finger was running along the words, and her eyes looked panicked.

  “Want help, yes?” Anja asked kindly.

  Elise seemed to hesitate. “I am looking for something with less… meat. And maybe a vegetable?”

  Both Anja and the waiter chortled. Nessa stiffened, ready to pounce if Elise was being mocked.

  Anja clicked her tongue. “Sorry. We eat sweet fruits to last us between meals, but vegetables are only survival food. Beetroots, parsnips, turnips… they are for soups when there is no meat or bread, yes? I think there is a sandwich with breaded ice-eel and green cabbage, yes? That is lighter.”

  The waiter broke in. “True. You can even order it without the eel? Will take a little longer. But, is possible, yes?”

  “Oh, I do not wish to be any bother. I shall order it with the eel. I like seafood,” Elise said, looking more confident than Nessa guessed she was.

  “Please also bring three glasses of honeyed almond milk and another pot of coffee,” Anja added.

  The waiter replied in their language and left.

  “That was Sundish?” Elise asked.

  Anja drank down the last of her coffee and refilled her cup. “Yes.”

  Elise watched her keenly. “Is that what you are writing your book in?”

  “No. It is currently in Arclidian, which I write better than I speak it. I will make translations for the other languages later. The book was meant to be sent abroad, you see. To inform you other continents that we are not only snow and railroads.”

  “And a few coal mines,” Elise added.

  Nessa slapped her leg under the table. She didn’t think Anja was easily upset, but Elise’s tendency to cause trouble, her so-called ‘fire-starting’, had to be kept under a watchful eye.

  Anja blew on her coffee. “Yes, we have many coal mines out in the west. They’re the lifeblood of our vast factories and impressive trains.”

  They all quieted for a moment as a large family walked in, chatting and shouting their way to a table in the opposite corner.

  Nessa snatched a piece of blu
e-veined cheese and popped it in her mouth. It tasted strange, almost like it had gone off. She had some coffee to swallow it down.

  Elise was slowly running her finger around the rim of her coffee cup, watching Anja. “So, you are from Skarhult? What brings you to Charlottenberg?”

  Anja put her coffee cup down. “Collecting my coin. I have shares in the Storsund Trading Company. Their head office is here, so I like to stop by and see what the whispers are and get my earnings. Then I took a walk, and got robbed, while waiting for my train to Skarhult.”

  “Oh! Can I ask when it leaves? We need to find a train there, too. It’d be nice to travel with someone who knows how the ticketing system works,” Nessa said, fidgeting with her cup. She wasn’t sure about this woman, but she was tired of the sinking feeling in her stomach. Being so unsure of everything since they left Arclid was draining.

  Anja, up until now the perfect hostess, looked doubtful. “There are many trains. Mine is in forty minutes. But there will be another soon after that.”

  “Nessa is right. We could use a guide. And we have been told that we are exceedingly entertaining travel companions,” Elise said.

  Anja said nothing, but the lines on her forehead increased.

  Nessa put her hand over Elise’s on the table. “I’m not sure we should impose further. Anja wanted to thank us for our help with the thief, and she has now done that. After we finish our meal, we should let her get on with her day in peace.”

  Elise pouted. Anja busied herself with her cup, drinking the coffee faster than was probably pleasant.

  The waiter interrupted the awkward silence to bring them their drinks and sandwiches. When he left, Anja poured herself some more coffee and they all began eating. Out of the corner of her eye, Nessa saw Elise swallow down most of her food with generous helpings of her honeyed milk.

  There was a wet thump on the plate as Anja slammed her half-eaten sandwich down. “That was rude. I am a loner, not used to company, yes? Of course you should take my train. I will show you where to get tickets and good places to sit.”

 

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