Tinderbox Under Winter Stars

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  Elise swallowed the lump in her throat. “But you are sad.”

  “Life makes you sad sometimes. No matter where you are. That doesn’t mean you should break your back to change everything. Sometimes sadness simply has to be endured until it passes, I think.”

  “If you say so. Still, promise you will tell me if it gets too much. The sadness, I mean. Then we will both go back. The Queen be damned.”

  Nessa’s nose rubbed against the skin on her neck. “I promise. Do you… ever miss your mother?”

  “No,” Elise snapped.

  “I suppose you wouldn’t. How could anyone treat someone as sweet and wonderful as you so badly? She’s your mother. She should love and protect you. I don’t understand.”

  “I do not wish to talk about her. Or even think about her,” Elise whispered before burying her face in Nessa’s hair.

  “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  Elise kissed Nessa’s hair, making love drown out the pain and rejection.

  A few more minutes passed while the fire crackled and the cat purred. Elise breathed in the scent of Nessa, closing her eyes and pretending the outside world did not exist.

  That only worked for so long. Elise gave up and voiced her thoughts. “Do you think I should simply go out and get a job? Would they hire someone who does not speak their languages in any of the shops? Or maybe in the factories?”

  “Bad idea,” Nessa said softly.

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure you’re built for factory work, mentally or physically. Mentally, neither am I. We haven’t seen any other available jobs while we’ve been out either.” Nessa took her hand. “Besides, I still think I’ll find an apprenticeship and you’ll either convince Anja to dictate to you or find a profession that inspires you. We shouldn’t give up yet. Our costs are low right now. We should aim for our dreams, and if the coin starts to dwindle, then we’ll settle for any old job.”

  “You are right. Still. I think I am going to borrow a few of Anja's books and try to pick up some Sundish or maybe some Viss. Maybe Anja would give me lessons, too.”

  “Maybe. Let’s not ask for too much. She already helps us and houses us, only asking us to pay for half of the food and kindling.”

  Elise hummed her agreement, and they sat in silence again. Lost in their own thoughts, embracing each other tighter for comfort and warmth.

  “Elise?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like to make love now,” Nessa whispered.

  “Me too. However, Anja could be down any moment.”

  “Hm. Perhaps hiring a room would be a good idea.”

  Elise laughed before whispering, “Seems I am not the only one who needs to learn patience.”

  A couple of weeks passed in the same way. They ate their meals together, usually in silence unless Nessa or Elise made an effort to keep up conversation. Only Skarhult history could entice Anja to speak at any length. More and more rarely did they go out looking for glassblowers. Their only hope now were the glassblowers that had been out, probably selling their wares or sourcing materials, during the search. The railroads seemed to make manufacturing a lot more ambulatory here than in Arclid.

  After lunch, Anja tried to write. She always used that word “try,” complaining about how bad she still was at writing with her left hand. Every time, Elise bit her tongue, wondering if she should suggest dictation again.

  While Anja wrote, Nessa and Elise cleaned the house, took long walks, or read books. Nessa read for enjoyment and Elise in the attempt to teach herself some Sundish. The rest of the time, they made more scented oils, using whatever dried fruit and herbs they could find around the house.

  Elise coveted nicer-smelling flowers and herbs, but their funds were dwindling with paying for their own supplies as well as half of all the food and fire wood. Often this fact drove her to opt for taking any job anywhere. She calmed herself, they had coin for a couple of more weeks. She had to work on that patience.

  Instead, Elisandrine threw herself into making the scented oils. It would do wonders for their winter-chafed skin and hair. Besides, she was starting to enjoy it.

  One day, when Nessa seemed near giving up, luck struck. After breakfast, they had gone out for a walk, following strange tracks in the road. Elise wanted to ask what they were, but Anja and Nessa were deeply engaged in a conversation about Joiners Square’s latest grab at power: trying to control Storsund’s many farms.

  Elise left them to it while watching the tracks disappear into a big, closed building. A man in a Joiners Square uniform stood outside the building, staring at her. Inspecting her? Something about the way he looked at her made the little hairs on Elise’s neck stand on end. She shook it off, he probably just reminded her of the Queen’s Royal Guards.

  Five cold, long streets away from Anja's house, they came across a glassblower’s workshop they had visited two weeks ago. The neighbour had then informed them that the glassblower was traveling north and that she didn’t know when he’d be back. Today they all stopped dead as a tall man in thick furs unloaded crates from a cart and carried them into the now open workshop.

  Nessa self-consciously pulled up her trousers. Despite them being hemmed up and tied with a belt, they were still too big.

  If she gets an apprenticeship, I will buy her ones that fit. If she does not, I shall get a cursed job and buy her some anyway.

  “Excuse me, sir?” Nessa said in her clearest voice.

  He turned, a crate cradled in his arms. It was hard to tell under his furs, but judging from his angular face and sunken cheeks, he must be quite thin. Not a great idea for someone living in this cold, surely? He jutted his pointy chin out as he looked at Nessa. Elise felt an almost maternal wish to stop him from staring at Nessa with that sceptical air.

  “Hello. Who are you, Arclidian lady?” he said in a neutral voice.

  Nessa shifted her footing, Elise wished she could send her some confidence through the cold air. “My n-name is Nessa Glass. I’m a glassblower’s a-apprentice. Well, I was until I had to had to leave Arclid. Now I’m looking f-for another apprenticeship here. Are you the glassblower who owns this workshop?”

  He put the crate on the ground. “Yes. Are you really a glassblower’s apprentice with a name like Glass? That’s funny, yes? Is it a joke?”

  Elise saw Anja blow out a long breath. Clearly she had also thought the man would merely dismiss Nessa and walk away.

  “Uh, yes, it is funny, and no, it’s not a joke. It’s my name,” Nessa said in a strained voice.

  The glassblower took out a woollen hat from his coat pocket and put it on. “I have been up to Vitevall to sell my wares. I am known for making sturdy yet pretty glass, yes? I make glass you can use for years. They like that up there.”

  “I see. That makes sense. I grew up on a f-farm. We had no time for things that weren’t sturdy, either.”

  “Good. Very good. Shame I do not need an apprentice,” he said, leaning back on the side of his cart.

  There was a moment of silence. Elise was just about to fill it by stepping up and singing Nessa’s praises, but stopped when Nessa said, “I see. Well, neither did my old masters. They took me on for a short trial and were soon very satisfied with my work. I work hard and long while asking for little. I simply love glass and want to work with it and earn enough coin to keep myself in bread and firewood.”

  The man jutted his chin out again and stared at Nessa for a painfully long time. Elise’s pulse picked up so much she heard it rush in her ears.

  It has been weeks of bad news. Please employ her. She is a proud woman and needs a purpose. And something secure to latch onto. Please.

  Next to Elise, Anja crossed her arms over her chest, the wrinkles by her eyes deeper than usual as she squinted at the man.

  He picked the crate back up. “Hm. Do you wish to talk about this inside, Arclidian? No point in freezing our faces off out here, yes?”

  Nessa nodded mechanically, then turned around. “Elise and Anj
a. Why don’t you go back? I’ll be home soon and then I’ll let you know what happened.”

  Elise found herself gaping before whispering, “What? No. I wish to stay. I am good at promoting you, we both know that.”

  Nessa hesitated. “Yes. But heartling, I need to do this on my own.”

  Elise was about to argue again, but Anja took her arm. “Nessa is right. We should go home. We have reindeer meat to prepare and mince.”

  “Reindeer meat? But… I want to…” Elise trailed off as she saw Nessa’s face. There was that wounded pride she had been seeing lately. It was even more raw now. Win or lose, Nessa needed to do this herself.

  Whining, Elise gave her a peck on the cheek. “Fine. All right. Be careful, come right back home afterwards and… good luck, my cherished.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see you both soon,” Nessa said with a shaky smile Elise knew was for her benefit.

  Then she hurried after the glassblower.

  It was nearly an hour later when Elise helped Anja mince the dark reindeer meat in a grinder. Restlessness made her irritable and resentful of every insignificant task Anja wanted her to do.

  “Are you sure I cannot be of better use in some other capacity?”

  Anja didn’t spare her a glance. “What capacity would that be? We must prepare and cook this meat before it goes off.”

  “I… do not know. I should be doing something useful.” Elise wrung her hands. “Nessa is fighting tooth and nail for her apprenticeship. You research and write. I… only exist, busying myself about scented oils and applying rouge. Merely a drain on resources.”

  “Nonsense. You keep me and Nessa sane and happy. Not an easy task.” Anja examined the mince before speaking again. “What had you planned to do when you came to Storsund?”

  Elise groaned, beginning to pace the small kitchen. “I am not sure. Look after Nessa, make amends for disrupting her life. Perhaps get work where I could use my schooling. Preferably where I would not dislike my employer, as I did when I worked for a printer in Nightport.”

  Anja hummed while getting a bowl for the mince. “Yes, liking who you work with is important.”

  Frantically, Elise watched her, searching for clues in her body language. “True. That is why helping you with your work would be so worthwhile. Your passion and knowledge captivate me.”

  Anja stopped. “Ah. So that is where this is leading?”

  “It was not ‘leading’ anywhere,” Elise protested. “It was simply my honest thoughts. When we met, I thought assisting you in return for a roof over our heads was a perfect solution. I still do.”

  “Yes. But I provided the roof over your heads without you having to… help me. I never asked for anything, especially not some form of charity. People see me and assume I’m just scraping by. I’m not, I do fine on my own.”

  “That is what I was getting at, Anja. I said I thought you could use my help when we met that day in Charlottenberg. Now, I know it is more the other way around. I need your help. The roof over our head is wonderful, but not enough. Our funds are dwindling. Clothes, food, bathhouse visits, firewood… it all costs.”

  Elise paused to rub her forehead, trying to word the discomfort that had been spreading through her over the past weeks. “I need employment. But where to look? Everything outside this house is cold and impenetrable to me. When we go into Skarhult, I see people rushing inside, buried under coats and hats. They hasten past without a glance and do gods know what in their perfect white houses.” She rubbed her skin harder with her growing panic. “I have no knowledge of the language, no recommendations, and no special skills. I have never actually searched for employment, so I would not know how to go about it. My job in Nightport and the one at cou – I mean, in Highmere – were all but handed to me!”

  Anja, done with the mince, washed her hands. “Calm down. No need to shout. If you want me to try and search out a job for you, I can. But I need to know in what sort of profession.”

  Elise tried for a mirthless laugh, but it came out hysterical. “And, once again, have a job handed to me? I do not even have an inkling of what position I am suited for.” She slammed her palm onto the worktop. “And… and… I worry that anywhere I find a position, they will ask me a lot of questions!”

  There it was. The truth had, as always, popped out of her mouth, bypassing her brain. Elise growled, wanting to hit herself instead of the worktop.

  When will you learn to think before you speak? When will you learn to hide and to keep secrets, you ridiculous fool?

  Anja sighed. “Mm. Not everyone will trust your open face and weighted silences like I have.”

  Elise put her hand on her arm. “Please let me help you for a few days, as a trial. You only need pay me enough to cover Nessa’s and my part of the food and kindling. It would be such a tidy solution. If I am of no use to you, I shall not take it personally when you tell me so.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I know. That is why I am saying you should try it out before you commit. For what it is worth, I no longer see you as someone who needs help. You clean, cook, mend things, and manage to write. All more than I can do. And done with your left hand, which as I understand you never used for these things before?”

  “No. I was right-handed,” Anja muttered.

  “Consequently, you do not need help. However, I can perhaps speed up your writing process. To allow you to you finish this book of Storsund’s history sooner, telling the true nature of Wayfarers and how they are treated. All while you help me, a young woman who is not as capable as you. Or as calm in the face of adversity.”

  Anja chuckled. “You’re just young and impatient. And to make things harder for yourself, you’ve taken on the responsibility for Nessa’s happiness. Out of guilt, I imagine.” She peered at Elise, green eyes shining. “One day you’ll have to tell me why you both had to run and leave her family and work behind. Not today, though. Today, we clean the kitchen. Then…” Anja put a hand on Elise’s shoulder. “Then we’ll go up and start your dictation trial period. After that, Nessa will be home with news, and I will make us meatloaf. Sound good, yes?”

  A sudden warmth rushed through Elise. “Yes. That sounds splendid. Thank you.”

  Anja said what sounded like a long word with harsh consonants.

  “Pardon?”

  “That was Sundish for ‘you’re welcome.’ It’s just one word in our language,” Anja explained.

  As she picked up a cloth and began to wipe down the kitchen, Elise practised that word, rolling it around her mouth, amending it when Anja explained how to shape her lips and tongue. By the time they went upstairs to try the dictation, Elise could say it perfectly.

  Chapter 12

  The Glassblower’s Test

  Nessa forced herself to breathe slowly and evenly. Panicking would lead to more stuttering. Or worse, to clamping her jaws tight so she couldn’t answer questions. That would surely ruin any chances she had of convincing the glassblower to employ her. She pushed her shoulders down and her chin up, trying to at least look confident and competent.

  “Ah, blessed warm, yes? Well, warmer than outside at least,” the glassblower said. “I came home this morning, and before I could even begin to carry in my…” He snapped his fingers as if looking for a word. “My, uh… new things in crates, I had to light the furnace. Only now is it starting to warm up in here.”

  “Y-yes. The warmth is a relief. I know how hot a glassblower’s workshop, I mean a hot shop, can become. Sweating was a problem when I apprenticed b-back in Arclid. Now, however, I’d welcome the heat from the furnace all day.”

  He took off his leather gloves, blowing on his hands. “All day is good. I wish mine would not go out. We both know a glassblower’s furnace should always be lit, yes? But when I go away for long periods… what can I do?”

  “Employ an apprentice to keep the fire burning? Or to travel away for you?” Nessa said, so eager to get the words out that they were barely audible in their speed.

&
nbsp; He laughed. “Good thinking, yes? The problem is, as always, coin. Skarhult is not a good place for glassblowers, not much business, you know? That is why I trade up north. Paying an apprentice? Big, unnecessary cost. Most apprentices would work for free in return for lodgings and learning a profession.”

  “Yes, I would do so too if I lived alone. I have a wife to consider, Mr… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  He laughed, his cheeks sinking in even further as he did so. “I didn’t give it, I think. Forgive me, travel has rubbed away my manners. My name is Fabian Smedstorp. And yours is Glass. Ha! No one could forget that.”

  Feeling her cheeks burn, she mumbled, “Nessa will do.”

  “Not with a fitting name like Glass, I think.” He peered at her, his eyes twinkling. “So. You wish to learn from me?”

  Nessa straightened her back again, unsure when it had slumped. “Yes.”

  “As I said, an apprentice is a big cost. I do need the help, glassblowing is hard to do on your own, as I’m sure you know. But it is a big… how do you say… investment?”

  “I know. I believe it will be worth it for you, though. I’m diligent, strong, enthusiastic, and quick to learn. I can start at the slightest wage. Even work for free at first.” Relief at not having stuttered flooded through her.

  He rubbed his unshaven chin, making a rasping sound. “Hm. Strong?” He looked her up and down. Nessa wished that she wasn’t so short and that her layers of clothes didn’t hide her muscles.

  He sucked his teeth. “Why don’t I give you a test? Through that you can show me what your body can do and how much this apprenticeship would mean to you. If you pass, you become my apprentice. If you fail, you go home and leave me to my work, yes?”

  He smirked, and the careful part of Nessa’s mind sounded an alarm. “What sort of test? As I said, I am a married woman.” The fake marriage slipped into conversation so easily now that Nessa had almost forgotten it was a lie. “I’m eager for an apprenticeship but certainly not desperate enough for something… unseemly.”