Tinderbox Under Winter Stars

by Emma Sterner-Radley

Did I say too much again? Why do I never think before I speak?

  The pencil scratched against the paper as Elise’s confidence slowly ebbed back out.

  After a while, Sara looked up. “Tell me, do you use your own oils?”

  Back to the oils. Thank the gods!

  “Yes, in fact, I am wearing the watermint and cherry oil today. I thought it fitting to wear one which is a mixture of Arclidian watermint and Storsund winter cherries.”

  Sara clicked her tongue. “Nice touch. I can see you put a lot of thought into your scents, yes?”

  Certainly. When I do not rummage around for any old herb in Anja’s kitchen.

  Elise crossed her legs in her most ladylike fashion. “Scents are important. Your smell says a lot about you.”

  “Yes. If a person smells unpleasant, it can for example say that they’re allergic to strong smells and can’t wear scented oils,” Sara replied, a twinkle in her eye showing that there was no harm meant.

  “That is true. Out of consideration for others, I personally try not to overdose on fragrances. Which is why a scented oil can be better than an alcohol-based fragrance. It is subtler. More likely to be smelled by someone close, like a friend or a lover, than the whole town.”

  Sara pointed her pencil at her. “Now that will make a good quote. We’re getting somewhere, yes?”

  After that, a few mundane questions followed. Queries about how Elise was settling in, how she handled the change in climate, and if she had seen the frost faire. When that was all answered and jotted down, Sara packed away her notebook and pencil. She finished her water and stood up.

  “I shall leave you to the rest of your day. No doubt you have oils to mix, yes? Secret ingredients to harvest.” She stopped by the door. “No, wait. Not harvest, very little grows under snow. Perhaps you must mix chemical things, yes?”

  Elise smirked at her. “That is for me to know and you to guess.”

  Sara laughed as she opened the door. “Apologies. I had to try once more. Thank you for the water and conversation. The article will be published tomorrow. With the title ‘Sniff Elise Glass’ Arclidian Elegance.’ Not perfect, but the sort of thing our readers like, yes? Farewell.”

  With that, she was gone. Elise was left worrying her lower lip. She’d assumed they would keep to the custom of calling a married person by their title and surname, not their first name. Still, Elise was a common Arclidian name, Glass was a pseudonym, and neither would mean anything to people here. No one in Skarhult was searching for her.

  Wait, does that title mean that the article will be posted in Arclidian? No, of course not. She merely translated for you. Stop fretting over nothing, you nervous skitter-beetle.

  She straightened her back, taking a few slow breaths.

  Anja walked down the stairs with Svarte in her arms. “Silly beast keeps meowing. I think he might be hungry, even though I fed him plenty this morning. I swear this cat will…” She tapered off as she looked at Elise. “You look like someone put ice in your porridge. Did the interview go badly? Was the reporter rude?”

  Elise hugged her arms around herself. “No. It went well, I think. I have just had this… uneasy, haunted feeling all day. Never mind. It is probably my monthly curse approaching. I should bleed in a couple of days, that always makes my mood peculiar.”

  Anja looked at her, searchingly. “As long as you’re sure that’s all it is. This sounds more like Nessa than you.”

  “I am fine. Anyway, tomorrow is the Joiners Square Fest. We told the Lindbergs we would meet them there. It shall be such fun!”

  Anja rolled her eyes. “Having to see people and eating trash food, all while being out in the arse-freezing cold. Yes, heaps of fun.”

  Chapter 19

  Joiners Square Fest

  The night of the Joiners Square Fest finally arrived. As Nessa stepped out onto the well-trodden ice, she was almost as excited and curious as Elise.

  How do you add more extravagance and colour to something like the frost faire?

  She was about to ask Anja, when Elise pointed to the confectioner’s tent and hurried towards it.

  Anja chuckled. “She’s off then. I suppose I’ll go get us all some black wine. No, you cannot have anything else, and no, I’m not letting you pay for your own.”

  “Thank you!” Nessa shouted after her retreating form.

  On her way to join Elise, she took in the sights. The frost faire’s reds, golds, and greens had all been switched out for Joiners Square’s silver and pale yellow in every light and every fabric. It made the whole affair seem classier but colder. Nessa wrinkled her nose at it.

  People crowded the ice, barely leaving room for those on skates to pass through. Everyone was dressed up. Anja and Nessa had complained about having to trade in their usual trousers, vests, shirts, and sweaters for pretty, bell-shaped dresses, but Elise had insisted they make an effort. She had not only gone out and spent a chunk of her newly earned gold on dresses, but also picked up new, elegant wool coats for herself and Anja. And, knowing that Nessa would not be parted from her tatty leather coat, gotten her a new fur cloak, hat, gloves, and long boots which all matched the brown coat.

  They arrived at the sugar works tent. Smiling at them was the round, white-blonde confectioner who had been there last. “Hello again, madam. Back for another ballerina?”

  Elise started. “You remember me?”

  “With those unusual golden eyes? Of course I do, madam.”

  Nessa smirked as she saw Elise blink a few times extra and adjust her hair.

  Anja caught up with them, balancing three mugs of hot wine. “Nessa, take one of these. And tell Miss Sugar-Addict over there to get me some rose-flavoured sweets.”

  Nessa took her mug. “I’ll buy them for you. Elise is busy flirting with the pretty confectioner.”

  “I can see that. Most wives would be jealous.”

  Nessa almost said that they weren’t married until she collected herself. “I’m sure they would, but I trust Elise. Flirting is merely her way of interacting. I think it might’ve been the way she was raised. To be pretty and make everyone adore her. She doesn’t know that there’s much more to her than that.”

  Anja blew on her wine, sending the steam Nessa’s way. “True enough. Still, are you sure it doesn’t bother you?”

  Nessa shrugged, looking at the love of her life who was being shown different sugary treats. “Not with strangers. Her flirting with friends, people who see beyond her pretty surface, that worries me more.” Nessa winked at Anja as she added, “Like you.”

  Anja nearly choked on her wine. “Me?”

  “Yes, you. The two of you quickly formed some sort of bond.”

  “Only because she wanted to work for me and…” Anja seemed to hesitate, and when she spoke again, she was no longer meeting Nessa’s eye. “Because she noticed I was lonely.”

  “There’s more to it than that. She trusts you, likes you, and wants to impress you. Also, let’s face it, you’re a beautiful woman.”

  Noticing Anja’s scepticism, Nessa said, “Remember the man in the drinks tent the first night of the frost faire? How he thought you were romantically involved with me and Elise?”

  Anja gaped for a moment, a lock of her thick hair sticking to her lip. “But… but he was clearly joking. I’m older.”

  “So?”

  “And bad-tempered.”

  Nessa laughed and repeated, “So?”

  “I have a prosthetic arm.”

  Nessa frowned at her. “Oh, come now, Elise would never discard anyone as a lover because of that. Nor would I.”

  Anja nodded. “No, of course not. Sorry. But I’m also… dull.”

  “Oh, trust me, I thought myself dull when I met Elise, too. But she finds what is interesting in people and brings it out. She makes annoying people like the Lindbergs bearable. And more, um, plain and discontent people like you and I – glow brightly.”

  Anja sipped at her wine, deep in thought. “Well, I do not think Elise
feels anything romantic towards me. I still say she merely pities me because I am lonely. Perhaps she sees me as a mother figure, but that is all.”

  “That’s not true. If she wasn’t madly in love with me, and truly making an effort to be a one-woman sort of woman, she’d be all over you. Who wouldn’t?”

  Nessa tasted her wine, relishing the warmth and sweetness of it. Anja stood silently, looking into her wine cup.

  “Nessa?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re not hitting on me, are you?” she whinged.

  Nessa nearly spat her wine out. “No, sweetest Anja. I do find it adorable, though, that you went from assuming that no one wanted you to now thinking both I and Elise are trying to get under your dress.”

  “Hold your tongue,” Anja muttered. “I hate this dress. Why should I dress up for these Joiners Square buffoons? Silly idea.”

  Nessa chuckled and continued watching Elise picking her sweets. The pink-cheeked confectioner now nodded at her and picked up the jar of candied fruits. She put the little waxy gems robed in delicate sugar into a white paper bag, hiding them away until they got to cross Elise’s scarlet lips. The sudden need to kiss those lips that were hers, and only hers, to kiss overwhelmed Nessa.

  Elise turned to her, eyes twinkling and cheeks reddening with the cold and the excitement. “Heartling, you must have something! Shall I buy you one of these pink sugar hearts? They are cherry-flavoured. You love winter cherries.”

  “Yes, please. Buy me two and get a bag of boiled sweets for Anja, the rose ones.”

  As Elise was making her purchases, Nessa spotted something on the other side of the ice. The torches and lights of the faire glinted off a building on the bank.

  They’re reflecting off glass.

  “That’s new. What is it? A greenhouse?”

  Anja frowned at her. “Why would there be a greenhouse by the river? And why would it be built in winter?”

  “I don’t know. But there is a glass building over there. Look!”

  Anja followed Nessa’s pointing finger. “Huh. Odd. It has the Joiners Square colours on the rooftop flags. But then, tonight everything has their colours. They seem to have bought up the whole faire, ice and all.” She was nodding towards the nearest of the many Joiners Square emblems that had been carved in the surface of the thick ice.

  Nessa’s attention left the ice, more interested in the glass. The tall building was a narrow rectangular shape, starting on the edge of the ice and going back into the copse of pine trees which separated the riverbank from the road on the other side.

  The structure was made solely of glass and steel. Most of the glass was clear except for the stained panes above the door, which showed the Joiners Square emblem in grey and yellow. The doors were wide open, allowing chatter and happy shouts to spill out into the starlit night.

  Elise joined Nessa and Anja, handing them their bags of sweets. Nessa was about to pop one of her cherry sugar hearts into her mouth but was distracted by the commotion in the glass house. She peered inside and saw people in exquisite finery, men in smocks and great overcoats and women in the most extravagant furs.

  “I can see a few of the leading elite of Joiners Square in there,” Anja said, her voice laced with distaste. “They’re the ones who are not in uniform but are also not drinking alcohol, leaving that to their dignitary guests – the ones drunk out of their skulls. All the better to con them, charm them, and whatever else it takes to make them give up their every copper.”

  Nessa was about to ask if they were really that bad when she was interrupted by a Joiners Square soldier brushing past her and Elise. He walked quickly and looked haughty in his stark uniform, his pale cheeks red from either cold or drink.

  Elise put a gloved hand on his arm. “Excuse me. May I enquire what that impressive building is?”

  “Good evening, miss. That is the new pride of Skarhult, yes? The glass palace of Joiners Square. During the Fest, it will be a part of the frost faire, where we arrange sled rides and give out free liqueur coffees. After that, it shall be a tearoom and a hall for people looking to join our ranks.”

  She let go of his arm. “I see. Thank you.”

  “Not at all, miss.” He looked her over with a wolfish grin. “If you wish to see it closer later on, I could give you a private viewing. Now I must fetch Grand Marshall Karlberg, but after that, I could be all yours, yes?”

  Elise raised an eyebrow. “Thank you very much, but I think my wife and I can see it fine on our own.”

  He laughed, shrugged, and then hurried off to see to his task.

  “She doesn’t always flirt, then,” Anja whispered to Nessa, her breath smelling of rose and sugar.

  A pop was heard as a cork flew off a bottle inside the glass building, followed by whooping and happy cries.

  Elise linked her arm with Nessa’s, then looked behind them. “Anja, shall we go see what those Joiners Square people are up to? Or at least inspect that singular building of theirs? A palace of glass. Who would have dreamed of such a thing?”

  Nessa looked unblinkingly at the building.

  Those huge panes of glass. What would it take to create those? A daunting but esteemed task indeed.

  Anja’s attention was on the sleds next to the building. They were filled with furs of all kinds, and large huskies were tied to them, barking happily.

  “All right. We’ll go in. As long as I can have a closer look at the beautiful sled dogs when we come out. I adore those,” Anja said.

  “Of course. Now do come along,” Elise shouted while dragging Nessa into the oblong glass building.

  They stuck their bags of sweets in their pockets and pushed themselves through throngs of people. The farther in they got, the more of the people were in Joiners Square uniform. They were of all genders but all equally handsome, fair-haired, perfectly groomed, and broad-shouldered. They also all wore the same unsympathetic expressions on their pale faces.

  She saw Elise shiver and leaned close to her to whisper, “Are you all right? Is it the unfriendly air in here that bothers you?”

  Elise seemed to hesitate. “No. I simply have the most peculiar sensation of being watched. Or perhaps followed.” Her scowl melted into a wan smile. “I am certain it is merely the hostile air in here, as you say. Ignore me.”

  Nessa looked about her, trying to shrug off the return of the paranoia that Fabian Smedstorp’s words about civilians reporting secrets had created.

  Finally, they reached a large, raised square made of yellow glass. It was being used as a table and was so clear and sparkling it looked like it was made of gemstones. On it stood huge pots of what must be the liqueur-spiked coffee. In front of those were grandiose bottles with old-looking labels in Sundish and six small, delicate glass bowls.

  Nessa smiled from ear to ear. Those were the bowls she and her master made. They were filled with little, round things in light grey and creamy yellow.

  “Those bowls there, I created them. Well, Fabian made the final touches, but I shaped them,” she said.

  Anja clapped her on the back. “Fine work. They’re so pretty and thin that they look like shards of ice. What’s in them? Some sort of sweets?”

  Elise hurried over to the bowls, looking them over while making impressed noises. Then she took a few of the yellow and grey treats out, sniffing them. “I can only smell sugar. I wonder what they are.”

  “Arclidian dammon nuts, yes? Covered in fine sugar shells. Can’t you see that, foreigner?” a woman in white furs drawled before walking past them, nearly pushing Elise into the table.

  Elise looked over at Nessa and Anja with raised eyebrows and a grimace. They both laughed and joined her, Nessa to try the dammon nuts and Anja to fill a mug with the boozy, sweet coffee. The complex smell of it filled the air around them. Nessa savoured the scent as she ate a nut, crunching through the brittle sugar shell and sighing happily as the taste filled her mouth.

  She barely had time to enjoy the treat before she was startled by
the sensation of her legs being hugged from behind. She looked down and saw Sonja Lindberg's adorable, tawny face poke out between her knees.

  Sonja chirped, “Hello, Grumpy!”

  “Hello,” Nessa replied.

  Sonja looked over to Anja. “Hello, Grumpier!”

  Anja crossed her arms over her chest. “Good evening, child.”

  Eleonora said something in Sundish to Anja. Probably an apology, but Nessa wasn’t sure. Unlike Elise, she didn’t seem to be picking up this sharp, pretty language.

  Sonja spotted Elise and rushed her instead, while Eleonora and Albert shook hands with Nessa and Anja.

  Albert turned to bow to Elise. “You came! Eleonora was not certainness you would be here. But you are, yes?”

  Elise laughed. “In the flesh. How are you three enjoying the Fest?”

  “Most excellent!” Sonja shouted before standing on her tippy-toes to dive into one of the bowls of sugar-shelled nuts.

  Eleonora clapped her hands in glee. “So impressive, yes? Have you gone on a sledge ride yet? Or is it sleigh ride? Either way, they seem such fun and are free!”

  “They call it sled ride when it has sled dogs,” Anja said wistfully, staring out towards the majestic animals.

  Albert's eyes went wide. “Oh. Speaking of impressionists, no, I mean impressiveness. Sweetest Elise, I hear you were interviewed by the Skarhult Chronicle, yes? Marvellous! The people here should be joyed to see you, then.”

  Elise’s brow furrowed. “Because I am… famous?”

  “No. Well, yes, that as well. But because the Chronicle is owned and run by Joiners Square, yes? The … what’s the word… editor-in-chief used to work with me back in the day. Tasty man.”

  Nessa cleared her throat. “Albert, you know I hate to correct your Arclidian, since I cannot even speak your language, but I think you mean that he’s a good man or that he has good taste.”

  “Yes. Why not. That, too,” Albert said with a shrug. “Anyway, the Chronicle is fired out by Joiners Square. In six languages, reaching all four continents, no less. This is why it’s filled with news about the latest feats of the Storsund Trading Company.” He whispered the last bit conspiratorially.