Tinderbox Under Winter Stars

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  The noises. They are coming from the kitchen, I think?

  She looked over and saw Nessa on the sofa, still asleep with her face half-buried in her pillow.

  Must be Anja. Oh, something smells lovely. Something cooked?

  Elise got up, wrapping her blanket around herself like a cape. The floor was freezing under her bare feet. She searched for her socks and managed find them and to pull them on without her bulky blanket slipping off.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” a voice said from the doorway. “I thought I heard scrambling in here.”

  Elise wanted to shush Anja so that Nessa could keep sleeping but that seemed rude. She made her point by whispering her reply. “Good morning. I was coming to help you with breakfast.”

  “No need. I’m almost done. I know you don’t like coffee, but it is all I have to warm you and wake you. You can swallow it down with the fried bread I’ve made, yes?”

  “Gladly,” Elise said. She adjusted the blanket so it wouldn’t fall off and followed Anja back into the kitchen.

  Elise watched her get the plates and cups out with practised grace. She wanted to help every time she saw Anja hold something against her prosthetic hand, but something told her not to. Perhaps it was the proud posture of the woman, or the set of her jaw. Either way, Anja clearly did not require help. Elise left her to it and went over to the stove to look at the bread which was making the kitchen smell marvellous. It was golden brown and the seeds in it glistened with cooking fat. Suddenly her stomach felt like a barrel scraped empty.

  “It’s nearly ready,” Anja said, not turning. “Go wash up and get dressed. And wake your ladylove.”

  Elise obeyed. Soon they were all washed, dressed, and swallowing down large bites of fried bread slathered in winterberry jam with gulps of hot coffee.

  Anja put her mug down. “Today we should go to the bathhouse. You both need to wash your hair.”

  “That sounds superb,” Elise said around a bite of bread. She couldn’t imagine anything lovelier right now than a long, hot bath with plenty of scented soap.

  “It’s cold. Did either of you light the fire in the main grate before breakfasting?”

  Elise and Nessa looked at each other. “No, we didn’t,” Nessa confessed, tucking her unbraided hair behind her ear.

  Anja gave a curt nod. “I’ll do it after we have eaten, then. Tomorrow morning, see that you light it before you come into the kitchen.”

  And just like that, it was settled that they were staying another day.

  The next morning, Nessa had awoken before Elise. It was she who gently kissed Elise’s cheek and said, “Wake up, heartling. You need to see this.”

  Elise rubbed sleep from her eyes and got up. She had slept in her socks last night, learning the lesson about the cold floors. There were noises coming from the kitchen, indicating that Anja was making breakfast. Elise thought she could smell porridge.

  Nessa was lighting the fire in the main grate, the one in the room where they slept.

  “Come here. Look what Anja gave me to light the fire with. I watched as she used it on the kitchen grate.”

  Elise walked over and crouched by the grate. In Nessa’s hand was a box with little sticks of wood in it. Their tips seemed to be coated in something.

  “Good morning, Elise,” Anja said from the doorway. “They’re matches. No need for fiddly tinderboxes anymore.”

  Nessa and Elise made furtive eye contact at the last words. Simply the word tinderbox made Elise uneasy.

  She took the box of matches from Nessa. “Incredible. So small and unassuming! How do they work?”

  Anja came in and showed them. “You two should light all the fires tomorrow. Speed things up, yes? I’ll wake you when it is time to light the fire in the kitchen.”

  Elise opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. She had worried all day yesterday that Anja would ask them to leave. It almost ruined the pleasure of her bath and of exploring the Arclidian books in Anja's library. It seemed she needn’t have worried.

  “All right. Wake me. I’m of more use to you in the morning than Elise is,” Nessa said.

  Elise smacked her on the arm but didn’t argue the obvious truth.

  Anja handed over the box of matches. “I’ll wake you tomorrow morning, then. What about the plans for the day? Is there anything else you need? We have to buy you your own soap. I didn’t mind you using mine in the bathhouse yesterday, but it will run out.”

  Elise gathered her tongue. She had been thinking about that yesterday. “If acceptable, I should like to stop somewhere to buy some kohl, rouge, and a tonic for fresh breath. Oh, and some oil for hair and skin. Vain I know, but I fear I am used to these comforts.”

  “We could just buy ingredients to make our own oil. It’s cheaper,” Nessa suggested.

  Anja brushed cat fur off her trousers. “It’s decided, then. We’ll go buy you these things and then search for glassblowers seeking an apprentice. But now, breakfast. Porridge with honey and dried cherries.”

  She walked into the kitchen. Elise leaned in close to Nessa. “Do you think she wants to find you an apprenticeship to get rid of us, or is she preparing for us to stay a while?”

  Nessa shook her head before whispering, “I can’t tell. For someone so reluctant to have us stay, she seems to have gotten used to us quickly. Your plan to convince her to let us stay longer seems to have come to fruition without you having to lift a finger.”

  “Mm. We should go have breakfast and see if she mentions anything about it. If not, should I ask?”

  “No. She doesn’t seem to want to talk about it. Or anything else, really. I can’t read her.” Nessa bit her lip before continuing. “I think we have to play it by ear and be prepared to move whenever she tires of us. Maybe look around for possible places to rent as we go buying your items later today?”

  “Good thinking. Come on, that coffee you seem to be enjoying so much is probably growing cold.”

  “It really is tastier each time you drink it. I barely grimace at all now. Unlike you,” Nessa said and gave Elise a playful bite on the shoulder.

  Bickering and giggling like children they came into the kitchen and joined Anja at the table.

  Elise’s mouth watered at the smell of the porridge. In her old life at court, she would never have dreamt of eating such a thing. Now, its hunger-quelling warmth was a treat.

  The third morning, Elise dreamed she was in a lush bed, lounging naked in soft, warm sheets. A hand had run up her thigh and made her shiver with pleasure and need. She heard herself moan.

  “Do not pretend to not have missed my touch. You are nothing without me desiring you, wanton little fire-starter,” the Queen had purred in her ear.

  A sound had mercifully awoken Elise at that point, making her sit up and shield herself with her arms.

  Is this cold sweat due to dread or shame?

  She realised that the sound which woke her had been Nessa fumbling with the matches.

  Nessa was grumbling under her breath, “Anja made it look so easy. Why won’t this work?”

  It was colder than the other mornings, and Elise was certain that Nessa’s fingers must be shivering with the cold. Nessa cursed under her breath, and Elise laid back down again.

  I am certainly not telling her about my nightmares now. Poor thing is in a foul mood.

  No wonder, yesterday’s search for an apprenticeship had been unsuccessful. It clearly weighed on Nessa. While blinking away sleep grit, Elise contemplated that it weighed almost as much on her. That night in the warehouse on the Nightport docks, she had promised Nessa that she would get her a new apprenticeship and secure her future in her dream profession, thus making up for the fact that they had to run and leave Nessa’s old apprenticeship.

  However, it seemed they would have to accept that they weren’t going to be as lucky in Skarhult as they had been in Nightport. Elise glanced through the door, spotting Anja who was making them breakfast and, for the first time, whistling as she did so. A p
urring Svarte climbed up on Elise’s legs just as Nessa managed to get the matches to work. Elise smiled as she petted the cat.

  Maybe there are different sorts of luck.

  They had their breakfast and went out to look for glassblowers. This meant trudging down bitterly cold streets for hours, reading signs over every shop and workshop. Anja asked people in shops but only got the names of glassblowers they had already spoken to, ones who had been clear that they did not want apprentices now or in the near future.

  A butcher they asked even laughed. “There are glassblowers, yes, but not many. Skarhult is made for sturdy cups, not pretty glasses. You should go into pottery instead, yes?”

  When they had thanked him and left, Nessa gave a brave smile. “Well, we’re getting nowhere, and it’s too cold today to be out on foot. We should go back and try again this afternoon if it warms up. If not, I’ll go out on my own tomorrow.”

  Anja pulled down the scarf which had been covering her chin and mouth. “No. You’re staying with me because you need a guide. I promised to help so I will help. You can’t read the signs.”

  “That’s not true. I’ve learned the Sundish word for glassblower,” Nessa muttered, putting her hands in her coat pockets.

  “There might be other words on the sign. Or you may need to speak to someone who doesn’t speak Arclidian,” Anja argued. “You’re right about one thing, though. We should stop searching now and go warm up. Tomorrow I’ll come out with you and we’ll have better luck. The weather will improve as well, I feel it in my bones.”

  Elise put her arm around Nessa. “I agree with Anja. We are coming with you tomorrow. For now, I think we should head back and light a fire before we freeze to icicles.”

  They hurried home. Elise watched her breath come out like smoke as she stayed on the lookout for any passing carriages for hire. The cold seemed to pierce right through all her layers of clothes. “I cannot feel my nose anymore,” she said, conversationally.

  Anja hummed into her scarf. “Just wait until midwinter comes. Then you won’t be able to take a walk as long as this without losing sensation in every single body part.”

  When they were home, Nessa and Elise went around lighting all the fires in the house, while Anja made coffee. They had an early lunch, more to warm up than to quench hunger.

  Last bite swallowed, Anja stood up. “I shall go up and try to write. You can clean this up, yes?”

  “Of course,” Nessa said.

  Elise hesitated. “Would you like… never mind. Good luck with the writing.”

  “Thank you,” Anja mumbled as she headed for the stairs. She seemed halfway into her world of history and writing already. Elise was glad she hadn’t tried to push her assistance on Anja again. She glanced at Nessa.

  There has been enough rejection for our family today.

  As they cleared the plates, Nessa kept her eyes down and her shoulders slumped. Elise tucked a few stray strands behind Nessa’s ear, caressing her neck as she did so.

  “Would you like to do something other than clean and read this afternoon, heartling?”

  Nessa gave her a faint smile. “Like what?”

  “Hm, what can we do?” Elise pulled the collar of her shirt close for warmth and a faint waft of sugar pumpkin came from her wrist. “Oh, I know! The sugar pumpkin oil.”

  Nessa knitted her brows. “What about it?”

  “We are almost out of it, but we can make new scented oils. I was going to talk to you about this yesterday, but I forgot. Anja has some dammon nut oil in the cabinet here. When I saw that, I asked if she had any small jars.”

  Nessa’s brow smoothed. “And does she?”

  “Yes, she has a bunch of empty spice jars we can use! I also saved our two empty sugar pumpkin oil jars. We can reuse them now and buy more later. Not too many, though. We must save our coin until we find employment.”

  The cloud which had left Nessa’s face returned. Elise could have kicked herself.

  “Which is currently not an issue,” she quickly added. “If it becomes one, I shall go out and get the first job I can lay my hands on. Please do not fret about that, my cherished. Focus on teaching me how to make these oils.”

  Nessa cleared her throat. “Sure. As we already have the basic oil, it’s just a matter of letting the oil infuse with something aromatic in a warm environment, straining it, and then pouring it into the bottles. We need something dried or crushed, something which won’t split when mixed with the oil.”

  Elise looked around. “What about these?” she said as she opened a kitchen cabinet and pointed to jars of herbs.

  Nessa tilted her head, surveying the jars with their foreign labels. “Yes. I suppose that would work. But you’ll have to be patient. It takes many days for the oil to really blend with whatever you have to give scent.”

  “All the more reason to start mixing it today.”

  “True.”

  Nessa took down the herb jars and began to sniff their contents.

  Elise placed a kiss on her cheek. “I shall go get the empty oil jars from my bag. I will be right back.”

  She found them in her bag and looked at them, then glanced over to Nessa in the kitchen. Then back to the two jars in her hands. They were so small. It seemed unfair to ask such little things to mend such sizeable sadness.

  When Elise came back, Nessa smiled unconvincingly. “Good. Now, while the oil infuses with the aromatic compounds, we’ll keep them in the covered bowls close to the stove. Then we can strain the liquid and pour it into all these jars. Let’s get mixing.”

  Elise swallowed down her guilt. “Yes, heartling.”

  An hour later, they had three warm bowls filled with oil and the aromatic components. In the first bowl, lemongrass leaves were already making the oil a tiny bit greener. In the second bowl, sticks of meadowsweet buds floated. And in the third, watermint was spreading the scent of summer.

  Elise wished they had more exotic scents, but this would do for now. One day, they’d be able to afford dried flowers and rare spices to mix the oil with, and pretty bottles to decant them into.

  Hands washed and dried, Elise wracked her mind for something to do. She saw Nessa blow on her hands and rub them together, so she took them and placed them underneath her blazer and shirt. She almost managed not to flinch as Nessa’s cold hands lay against her own warm back.

  She looked into the grey eyes of the woman she loved. “Perhaps we should go sit by the fire? I should like to hold you for a while. To make up for not being able to hold you as we sleep?”

  Nessa leaned her forehead against Elise’s and mumbled, “Yes, please.”

  Elise stepped away, feeling bereft when Nessa’s hands left her skin. It wasn’t long before they were cosy on the rug in front of the fire and those hands returned, now to play with Elise’s hair and to caress her cheeks. Elise kissed the fingertips when they got close to her mouth, then she enveloped Nessa in her arms and whispered into her hair, “We have some things to discuss.”

  “What we have is laundry to do. We should do it soon, everything dries so slow in this cold.”

  “Stop being sensible for two heartbeats, Nessa. That can wait until we have warmed up and talked.”

  “All right. What did you want to talk about?”

  “Well, Anja is letting us stay yet another day and has not mentioned us leaving. So, we must decide, do we want to remain here? I know I championed it, simply because it made such sense on paper. However, if we do not wish to stay, there is nothing keeping us here.”

  “Well,” Nessa began. “We told Hunter we’d be in Skarhult under the name of Glass, in case he needed to reach us. We should probably stay here.”

  “All right. But ‘here’ does not have to be in Anja's house. We could hire a room in a lodging house, like we did in Nightport.”

  She felt Nessa shrug against her. “I don’t mind staying here. You were right, it’s a comfort to have a guide in a foreign country. And it’s nice to be in a real home.”

&n
bsp; “Good. Then we shall stay here. Warm and safe.”

  “Huh. You wanting something safe? That doesn’t sound like Lady Elisandrine Falk?”

  Elise watched the flames dance. “Things change. I am not alone anymore. Before, if I failed or was in danger, I paid the price. Now we both pay the price, and you are more precious to me than I am.”

  “I know that feeling,” Nessa said quietly.

  They sat looking at the fire for a while, Nessa still playing with Elise’s hair.

  A few minutes later, Nessa asked, “Do you think the Queen is hunting us? Be honest.”

  Elise didn’t have to consider the question. It had been in the back of her head for weeks. “No. But then I said that last time as well, did I not? And then there she was, beating you at cards.”

  “Excuse me, I was beating her.”

  “Obviously, my cherished. You are better than her at everything.”

  Svarte walked in and settled down by their feet, drawing warmth from them and the fire. Nessa tickled him under the chin, and his one green eye closed as he began to purr.

  Elise gathered up her courage. “Why did you ask about the Queen? Do you want to go back to Arclid? Do you miss your family too much?”

  Nessa hummed noncommittally while scratching the cat’s chin. “Sure, I miss my parents. And Layden. Nevertheless, I made the decision to leave them and live my own life long before you and the Queen came along.”

  “Yes, but you planned to live in Nightport, where you could return and visit them. From here, it would take a month and a half to go back. Not to mention the steep price. Not that this should stop you,” she was quick to add. “If you wish to go back, I will give you your half of our savings and help you book the ticket.”

  Nessa cuddled in closer and placed her face in the groove of Elise’s neck. “Only if you came with me.”

  “I am the one who is probably hunted, Nessa. I cannot go back.”

  “That settles it. My home is with you. Besides, I would miss our adventures. We belong together, travelling and exploring.”