Tinderbox Under Winter Stars

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  “Would you like some help?” Elise asked.

  “No. My kitchen is small, and I don’t want anyone underfoot.”

  “As you wish.” Elise could quash her curiosity no longer. “Anja? May I look around? I have never been in a Storsund house.”

  “Fine. Downstairs is the main room, the kitchen, and the washroom. Upstairs is my bedroom, a storage closet, and the library, which has my books and the desk at which I write my book,” she shouted from the kitchen. “Do you want some cakes with the wine?”

  Nessa finally dragged her attention from the cat to holler back. “Yes to cakes. But wait, did you say you had a washroom? You have a commode and wash basin indoors?”

  “Yes. Our inventors prioritised getting those into all houses a few years ago. If you think Skarhult is cold now at the start of winter, imagining going out to empty your bladder in the night at midwinter, yes? Lots of chamber pots were used. Which we think is how disease and foul odours spread. Don’t you have indoor facilities?”

  “Not usually. It is a luxury,” Elise replied.

  “I should like to start by seeing the washroom,” Nessa said, finally pulling her coat and boots off.

  The tentative relief on her face made Elise guess she wasn’t merely going to see them.

  Elise ventured upstairs. She found the library occupied with a bare desk and shelves filled with serious looking books in Sundish. There were no letters or ornaments. The bedroom only contained a single bed with washed-out white bedding. She saw no paintings, no splashes of colour anywhere. Elise shivered at the overwhelming sense of loneliness.

  Descending the stairs again, she saw Anja head towards Nessa with a tray containing three glasses of dark liquid. There was also a plate filled with strangely shaped pieces of cake in all sizes and degrees of flatness.

  “I’m not good at baking. Nor cutting the cake when I finally baked it,” Anja explained.

  Elise looked at the cakes. “Is that because of your prosthesis?”

  Nessa gasped. “Elise Fa… I mean Elise Glass, you can’t ask that!”

  Anja shrugged. “It’s all right, Nessa. That might be part of the problem, but I was always a terrible baker. Anyway, they’re flavourful and drenched in honey, so no matter if they look like they were made by a child.”

  “They look fine,” Elise lied.

  “I bet they’ll taste wonderful to someone who’s freezing and tired. All I seem to do today is eat vast amounts and yet I go from cold to colder,” Nessa said before stuffing one of the smaller pieces of cake into her mouth.

  Elise picked up one of the glasses, looking forward to the alcohol heating her blood. She noticed that the liquid didn’t move as much as she’d expect, nor glimmer red in the firelight. It stayed black and thick as treacle.

  “May I ask what sort of wine this is? Not normal red wine, I take it?”

  Anja chuckled. “No. We do not drink that vinegar of yours. This is black wine. Grapes don’t grow well here, so it’s made with blackberries and ebony root. We mix lots of honey into it to sweeten it.”

  Elise observed the liquid again. “Interesting! Is that why it is thicker?”

  Anja took a gulp from her own glass. “That and the ebony root. You should try it, yes?”

  “Yes, go on, heartling. Try it,” Nessa said, licking crumbs off her fingers.

  Elise took a sip. She was expecting something vile. Like the coffee, the veined cheese, and of course that breaded eel sandwich. Consequently, it stunned her how delicious the wine was.

  Anja smiled. “I guess from the look on your face that you like it, yes?”

  “It is lovely! Sweet, thick, and bursting with blackberry flavour. I can barely taste the alcohol.”

  “That is the honey doing its job. There is more alcohol in this than your acrid grape wines. Drink carefully, yes?”

  “And have some cake. It’s delicious,” Nessa said, handing her a piece.

  Elise nibbled on it, aware of what her mother would say about chasing down honey cake with honeyed wine. Not beneficial to her figure.

  No, I shall not listen to her unhelpful advice anymore! Besides, fighting off the cold will take all the energy I can put in.

  She ate the whole piece of cake and complimented the baker. Svarte jumped up on the sofa and began sniffing Anja's piece of cake.

  “Silly cat. I feed him better than I do myself, and he still thinks all food belongs to him.”

  “Sounds like Nessa,” Elise quipped.

  Nessa shot her a glare before returning to her wine.

  Anja leaned back. “The night is young, but I still wish to go to bed. Your travel weariness must be contagious.”

  “I must confess to not being averse to an early night,” Elise said, suppressing a yawn.

  Anja stretched. “Well, I do have a book on Viss folklore I’d like to continue reading.”

  “So, y-you’re all right with us staying here, then? For at least a night,” Nessa stuttered. Elise peered at the dark outside and understood her anxious tone.

  “I think so. I wasn’t sure how I would feel about having you in my house.” Anja rubbed her lower lip, staring into space. “It’s not bad. I’m still not convinced I can trust you… but I trust my gut, which says you’re safe and not terrible company.”

  Elise braided her fingers in her lap. “Are you certain you do not want to ask us some questions? About our background?”

  Anja met her gaze, squinting so that new lines framed her bright eyes. There seemed to be too much knowledge in that look, it made Elise fidget.

  But Anja sniffed and picked some cat hair off her trousers. “Why would I do that? We all deserve to keep our secrets. I doubt your past is… what’s the word… relevant.”

  “That is a charming but peculiar notion,” Elise admitted. “What if our secrets are dangerous?”

  Anja interlocked her hands behind her head. “Well, you’re on the run, considering your small amount of luggage. However, though you look around as if searching for your hunters, you do so with a straight back. There is no guilt in either your behaviour or body language.”

  “What if we’re so unscrupulous that we don’t feel guilt?” Nessa asked.

  “Ha! Do you really think Svarte and I are such bad judges of characters that we could not pick out that sort of monster?” She regarded the roaring fire. “I’ve not survived this long alone in this vast city by being naive. I’ll lock my bedroom door, in which I have a knife the size of your arm, by the way. Oh, and there’s nothing of real worth to steal here. Unless you take the firewood.”

  Having done her duty in asking, Elise shrugged the weight off her shoulders. Anja put more thought into her decisions than she had realised.

  “Splendid. I suppose one of us can sleep on this sofa. Is there anything else to serve as a bed or do we need to share it?”

  Anja belly-laughed. “If you share it, you’ll fall off. I have a metal bedframe upstairs. My brother bought it when he used to come south to stay with me. Now he has a family and is too busy to bother. The frame folds up and then you can put a mattress on it. I warn you, though, it’s unstable and it, um, makes noise?”

  “Squeaks?” Nessa suggested.

  “Yes. That. But that’s your problem, not mine. I’ll fetch it.”

  Nessa stepped forward, an insecure look in her eyes. “Do you… need help?”

  Anja hesitated. “I suppose three people carrying is better than one. You can take the bed, Nessa, while you carry the pillows and blankets, Elise. I’ll bring the mattress.”

  They fetched the bedding from the storage closet upstairs. Elise noted that the pillows were flat as floor tiles and almost as hard. Still, she was not about to complain.

  When it was all set up, Anja stood by the stairs, observing them. “That should be all you need. Only one blanket each, I fear. However, they’re big and thick and will do for just a couple of days, yes?”

  “Yes,” Nessa and Elise replied simultaneously.

  “Good. Then I wis
h you good night.”

  She marched up the stairs while Nessa and Elise called good night after her.

  “You know what? I wager I can stretch ‘just a couple of days’ into a very long time,” Elise whispered with a wink.

  I almost managed to keep one eye open that time!

  “We’ll see, heartling,” Nessa said. “Right, I’ll go wash up. Since we no longer have your herb and alcohol tonic, my breath will be foul in the morning.”

  “No fouler than mine. We must endeavour not to breathe on each other,” Elise joked.

  “That’ll be hard when I come to claim my good morning kiss,” Nessa replied.

  Elise ran a finger along Nessa’s sharp jawline. “We shall have to make do.”

  Instead of an answer, Nessa tugged her into a kiss, one Elise immediately deepened. Minutes passed in kisses and frenzied caresses until Elise reluctantly broke away. “Sorry, but I am freezing. Where are our new full-length underwear? They will do well as sleepwear, I think.”

  Nessa gave her lips a peck. “Good idea. The bag with the clothes is over there.” She pointed to the bag by her coat, before heading towards the washroom, stretching and yawning.

  “I shall take the squeaky bed as I toss and turn less than you,” she said to Nessa’s retreating form.

  “Sure,” Nessa whispered before shutting the washroom door.

  As Elise got changed, she thought about the turns her life had taken. Everything was such a tangle, and yet she found it hard to regret her choices. Through the window she saw winter stars twinkle at her. The same stars but in a new land.

  She bit her lip with excitement and crawled into bed.

  Chapter 10

  The First Night in Skarhult

  Having washed and prepared for bed, Nessa came out of the washroom to find Elise in her thick, new underwear. They made her look utterly adorable.

  With a happy sigh, Nessa sat down on the sofa to watch Elise get ready. Her feigned-wife combed out her short hair and rubbed some sugar pumpkin oil over her hands while mumbling about the cold ruining her skin. Nessa’s joy faltered as she saw the jar of sugar pumpkin oil. Her mother had made that oil for her. Breath caught in her suddenly tight chest.

  Mum. What are you doing right now? Are you happy? Have you and Dad prepared properly for winter? Is Layden checking in on you?

  Nessa realised that she didn’t just miss her parents and her best friend, she missed the little safe things inherent to life in Ground Hollow. Working at the farm, eating meals together in satisfied silence, harvest feasts with Layden's family and her own. And, of course, staying up with her mother to press dammon nuts into oil, infusing it with dried pieces of sugar pumpkin. Later, straining it and pouring it into those little glass jars.

  Her hands balled into fists almost as tight as her chest. Still, she kept all the turmoil inside. This would pass. She was seeing those times through rose-coloured glasses, forgetting how trapped and out of place she had felt there. No matter how much she wanted to stay for her parents’ sake, that life had been slowly strangling her. This new life might be terrifying, but at least she was herself and was heading somewhere. That freedom and purpose were worth the panic and fear.

  Her hands relaxed out of the fists. She would become a glassblower and make those little jars for her mother. They would have to serve as a peace offering since Nessa could not be there herself.

  Elise put down the pillow she had been fluffing up. “Heartling? Are you all right? You look pale.”

  Nessa pushed her thoughts down. “Shh. Whisper so you don’t wake Anja. I’m fine. It’s… been a long day.”

  “A lifetime,” Elise said with a muted laugh.

  “I’ll sleep like the dead tonight. Although not having you close will take some getting used to,” Nessa said.

  Elise smoothed the sheet she had put over the mattress. “I know. I never considered that we might not sleep in the same bed. I suppose that was silly of me.”

  Nessa padded barefoot over the cold floor. She pulled Elise close by her hips and brushed her nose against her neck. The warm skin smelling of sweet cream and lemon water was… home. An undercurrent of safety in this frightening new world. “You’re never silly, my cherished,” Nessa replied. “Thinking about it, I really don’t like having distance between us. I want to share my sleep with you. Can’t we push the bed and the sofa together?”

  “I wish we could, but the bed is much lower than the sofa,” Elise whispered.

  She took Nessa’s hands and slid them from her hips over to explore her curves. Nessa didn’t need convincing, she began caressing everything she could reach while still nuzzling the soft spot under Elise’s jawbone.

  She noticed Elise’s pulse pick up. Her own heart was racing right along. Then they were kissing. Everything but the taste and texture of Elise’s mouth disappeared. The tension building in Nessa’s shoulders all day melted away as the kiss deepened. They had started making love yesterday, but she had been too tired and distracted to climax, so they had stopped. She could climax these days, but still struggled when circumstances weren’t just right. They were more than right now. She craved Elise like food or air. Embarrassed, she heard herself moan as, with quick fingers, Elise undressed her. She managed to just barely stifle the next moan as Elise repeated the action with her own underwear.

  Gods, how addicted Nessa was to that sand-coloured skin, those subtle curves, that triangular thatch of black covering the best thing in the world. She fell to her knees and buried her face in the mass of soft, dampening curls.

  “No,” Elise breathed out.

  Nessa stopped immediately. “Don’t you want to?”

  “Of course I do. I pretty much always want to. But we are in a stranger’s house.”

  Nessa groaned as sense poured back into her mind. “Right. She might come down to use the commode or fetch a glass of water.” She groaned again, more heartfelt this time. “Not only would it be embarrassing, it would be rude.”

  “Exactly. We do not know Anja's feelings about her guests being intimate in her home. We should show respect by showing restraint,” Elise replied, though there was a whine to her voice.

  Nessa looked up at her, heart still racing. “Yes. And still, my body doesn’t care. It’s been a long, frightening day. I need the comfort of your embrace and of your pleasure,” she said before placing a soft kiss on the black curls on Elise’s mound.

  Elise whimpered. “Heartling… you are usually the sensible one stopping my impulses. You know this is a bad idea.”

  “I know. I just… I’ll be quick. Please?” Nessa asked, breathily placing another kiss deeper into the curls.

  Elise squeezed her eyes closed. “All right. Make haste and be quiet.”

  Nessa stood up, tugging Elise into a rough kiss. Elise replied in kind, feverishly pawing Nessa’s body. They fell onto the bed, making it squeak in a way which could have awoken the dead.

  They both froze, waiting to hear if they had roused Anja. As they lay there, stiff and staring toward the stairs, Nessa felt Elise’s heart beat so hard that it felt like it was knocking on her own chest, begging asylum from this situation.

  They waited, and time trickled on.

  “We did not wake her. Or perhaps she does not want to investigate the noise. Tomorrow I will tell her that I tripped over the cat and fell onto the bed,” Elise said quietly, nodding towards Svarte who was sitting on the stairs.

  “Splendid idea,” Nessa whispered.

  Those were the last words spoken. Everything else was in the language of their bodies and their desire for each other. As quietly as the bed springs would allow.

  Around an hour later, if Nessa’s internal clock was correct, Elise ran her hands up her back and then shook her shoulders gently. She whispered, “Heartling. Do not fall asleep. You must put your sleepwear on and return to the sofa. Anja cannot find us like this in the morning.”

  “Hm? What? Right. Sorry.”

  Nessa drowsily clambered off her lover and s
earched through the room for their undergarments in the light of the dying fire. She found them and threw the taller set to Elise. Then she looked down at the apex of her thighs. “I cannot be bothered to clean up. I’ll just wash the underwear tomorrow. And have a thorough bath.”

  Elise interrupted her yawn to whisper, “Yes. Good idea.”

  They put their garments back on and both got under their blankets. Even with the effort and rushing blood of lovemaking, Nessa was starting to feel cold. She considered putting another few logs on the fire’s dying embers.

  Ah well. Should have thought of that before.

  She curled up under the blanket and thought back to her earlier sadness and worry, knowing that, for now, Elise had quelled the waves. The successful lovemaking and the sweet intimacy afterwards had worked its particular magic.

  Thank the gods for Elisandrine Falk. I couldn’t make it through without her.

  The last things Nessa heard before sleep took her were Elise’s deep breaths and the crackling from the embers. Not a bad first night in Skarhult, after all.

  Chapter 11

  Settling In

  Elise dreamt of endless hallways. Elegant corridors where everything was cold, hard marble. From every direction came the Queen’s cutting laughter, followed by the smell of lavender and alcohol, which surrounded Elise as she scrambled for a way out. There was an echo of drums. Or was that her heartbeat? It seemed as if her heart was about to betray her, to burst out of her chest.

  “Eli-i-ise,” the Queen cooed, “come out, come out wherever you are. You cannot hide from me, naughty little tinderbox-maker. I know your secrets. Your past, your fears, and even your darkest, most secret desires. I shall find you and I will bind you to me so that you can never run away again.”

  Elise jolted awake, shivering from the nightmare and the chill in the room. She wasn’t sure what had woken her, but she was painfully grateful that it had. She tried to focus her muddled mind on something other than her dream. There was a thud and a clinking coming from somewhere. She blinked her eyes open and saw wintry light bathing the stark room.