Nettle Blackthorn and the Three Wicked Sisters

by Winter Woodlark

  Nettle brushed his long hair from his forehead and gave him a lopsided grin. She supposed, after the encounter at the top of the summit and then the earthquake, she’d been unnerved more than she realized. She let go of him a little reluctantly.

  The tea house’s staff were efficiently tidying up while Margot and Dolcie allayed the fears of their customers. And while visitors were gathered in worried clusters, or had run outside, others milled about the entrance. Some were visibly shaken, while the majority of townsfolk appeared calm and somewhat relaxed, tending to the needs of their visitors.

  “5.4? 4.8?” Bram pondered. He was tapping a finger against his bottom lip like their father did when he was deep in contemplation, and she felt a sudden pang of loss for her absent father. Bram turned to her. “Wonder where the epicentre was? Close by, you think?”

  Nettle shook her head, she had no idea. Sunlight glinting off crystal showered the wall with shards of bright white light and caught her eye. The chandelier with its orbs and spider-web crystals had been shook free from one of its hooks. It swung crookedly, dangling low. Pippa had climbed a ladder to carefully hold it aloft, while her companion, a few steps higher, hooked it back into place.

  On another ladder nearby, Pipi was replacing the orb above the table where Nettle had earlier sat when the bulb had blown. What was it that Claudine had said, she thought hard, full? She wondered at the comment, when Claudine entered the tea house, her blue eyes widening at the carnage. She was at their side in a matter of seconds. “Are you two alright?”

  “We’re fine,” Nettle assured her, secretly pleased to be at the top of Claudine’s list of priorities.

  Claudine pressed her hands to her chest, her girlish voice a little lost-sounding. “Oh my, that was a bit of a shudder.”

  Nettle’s eyebrow’s rose at her description of the earthquake. “Shudder’s rather an understatement.”

  Claudine anxiously cast a glance about the tea house. Her sisters and the staff were making excellent progress with cleaning up and had begun reseating most of their customers. “We’ve had a few shakes recently but they were nothing much. Nothing like this.” As she shook her head, mystified, her hair tied in its usual low-sided ponytail swayed.

  “This was big,” confirmed Bram. “Really big.”

  “Wasn’t it just,” agreed Claudine with a sidelong glance. “I’d better go help my sisters. Please take a seat and I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” She went to guide the Blackthorns back to their table when Nettle stopped her. There was someone else that had her worried. “Can’t, we’d better find Jazz.”

  Claudine jerked around, her sapphire eyes mirroring Nettle’s alarm. “Jasmine! Oh my, of course.”

  “She might be pinned underneath a ceiling rafter,” offered Bram a little too eagerly.

  “We can only hope,” Nettle winked, grinning wryly.

  Claudine looked at the pair of them in a manner that suggested she wasn’t sure if they were kidding or not. She took possession of Bram’s hand and led him toward the entrance. Nettle trailed after them both, and with each step her senses were assaulted from the diverse dishes and drinks that had spilt upon the ground. Heady scents of bacon and juniper; coriander and saffron; sour vinegar and orange blossom; roses and lavender. It reminded her of walking through the spicy atmosphere of a bazaar they’d visited a few years ago.

  Before they’d gotten very far, Bram started bouncing up and down on the spot, waving frantically. “There she is!” He called out. “Jazz, over here!” Jazz had entered the tea house accompanied by Barber Tuttlebee. Their cousin appeared unperturbed by the earthquake. As usual she caused a ripple effect as she sauntered through the dining room. Heads turned to look her way, mainly town folk, and they allowed her to pass by before leaning in to whisper excitedly to one another. Nettle supposed they’d heard she’d been offered the role of Lysette, and by the look of their admiring expressions, approved.

  Claudine turned a relieved smile upon the Blackthorns. She squeezed Bram’s hand and said, “Thank goodness. All is well.” She then waited until Jazz joined them before guiding the cousins back to the table in the bay window. “Jasmine, I trust you are unharmed?”

  Jazz shrugged nonchalantly and made a half-hmmming noise as if she wasn’t exactly positive she was. She slid into a free seat at the table as if nothing untoward had occurred. Nettle and Bram took a seat either side of her.

  “Ah, do excuse me, Barber Tuttlebee has something for me,” Claudine apologised to the children. She was holding her mouth in a way that had Nettle wondering if she might be trying not to show just how pleased she was. She politely inclined her head and left to join the barber waiting for her near the counter. He had in his hand a crisp white envelope. Nettle watched her approach the elderly man wondering what he might have for her when Bram’s comment brought her back to her cousin.

  Jazz’s hair had been trimmed neatly into a pixie cut by Barber Tuttlebee and he’d artfully hidden the few bald spots the spriggans had left her with by concealing them below slightly longer locks of hair, sprayed heavily into place.

  “I like it,” Bram said. “Those girls will think twice before tackling you on the hockey field.”

  Jazz straightened, eying Bram with a new found respect.

  Bram was right, Nettle thought. As long as one didn’t gaze directly into Jazz’s resolute blue eyes, the cut at first glance gave her a deceptive appearance of fragility. On the second glance you realised it gave her a dangerous edge.

  “Looks good,” complimented Nettle. “It really does suit you.” And she meant it.

  Jazz ran her fingers through her hair. She nodded toward Barber Tuttlebee who was talking to Claudine, passing her an envelope. “Who’d of thought he had it in him to be this stylish. And I didn’t even have to pay, Claudine had already arranged it all.”

  That was nice of her, Nettle smiled to herself. Kind, considerate, thoughtful, Claudine’s virtues seemed endless. But it was time to go. The near encounter with the sword-wielding man was still fresh in her mind and the earthquake had severely rattled her nerves, never mind that arrogant boy. “It's time we went home.”

  Jazz flexed a menu. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve eaten. I’m starving.”

  Nettle suppressed a groan of exasperation. “Jazz it’s going to be ages before the tea house is ready to take orders.”

  Jazz scanned the room, and turned a could-you-really-be-that-much-of-an-idiot look on Nettle. “Looks ready to me.”

  Nettle’s bottom lip twitched with annoyance. Despite how much she really wanted Jazz to be wrong, she was right. The tea house had been restored in record time. The wait-staff twirled around providing small plates of free scones and cupcakes and mugs of dandelion tea to the remaining patrons, and while the hum of conversation had returned to the dining room, it was still a little nervous.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty hungry too,” added Bram.

  Nettle frowned. “You’ve been eating all morning.”

  He gave a puppy-dog pout. “But I’m not full.”

  Nettle persisted. “We really should go.”

  But neither Bram or Jazz were having it. They both bluntly ignored her. Nettle’s brow creased into an even deeper frown, but what could she do. Both Jazz and Bram had one quality in common, both were pig-headedly stubborn. Nettle reluctantly relinquished her resolve to go home.

  Bram looked up from his menu. “So did you give whoever you were after a good telling off?”

  Jazz huffed a laugh. “What? Little Miss Nettle got uppity with someone?”

  Nettle pulled a face. “If you must know, it didn’t quite go as I’d planned.” In fact she thought sourly, this latest encounter with the rude boy left her looking more of an idiot than the first occasion.

  Jazz sucked in one side of her mouth stifling her mirth but it was enough of a gesture to rile Nettle. She glowered, lowering her gaze to the wooden table. Leaning an elbow on the table she balanced her chin on her knuckles and began to trace the wood’s
grain with a fingernail. Her gaze turned pensive. What was going on up at that cave? Whatever that man was up to, it didn’t seem right. He shouldn’t just let his dog confront someone without provocation. She glanced about and saw no one from the village was at any of the nearby tables. She smiled thinly, she didn’t want to be caught talking about somewhere she clearly shouldn’t have been. She leaned forward whispering, “There’s something really strange going on up top of the hill.”

  Bram’s interest was piqued. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. “Really, what?” He was eager to hear Nettle’s tale. Jazz just gave her a disinterested roll of the eyes and went back to reading the menu.

  “There’s this cav-“

  “What are we whispering about?” Claudine asked. She had leaned between the siblings, her sapphire eyes sparkling with curiosity.

  Both Bram and Nettle jerked back, startled. Nettle’s heart near exploded and she felt as if she’d almost burst out of her skin with fright. Claudine had approached without warning. She had a tray loaded with silver goblets and she placed one in front of each of the children, the intoxicating liquid smelt of star-anise.

  Nettle’s scattered nerves eased and she almost laughed out loud at her foolishness. She shook her head, Jazz is right, what an idiot, she thought of herself and smiled at the older woman who was looking at her with concern. If anyone would know about the cave, Claudine would, and surely she wouldn’t judge her for being inquisitive. “I was wondering what is going on at the top of this hill?”

  Claudine flashed Nettle a look of surprise, knowing instantly what she referred to. “I didn’t realize you’d been up there.” Her eyes narrowed and tone shifted as if she were displeased. “I thought the area was shut off from the public.”

  Nettle had an awful sinking feeling. “Yes… you’re right…” she answered a little tentatively, wondering how much trouble she could be in. Those trespasser signs didn’t exactly look friendly, and neither does Claudine.

  “Did you sneak in?” Bram had a look of awe. He smiled proudly at Claudine. “Nettle’s pretty good at skulking about.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly describe myself as that,” Nettle replied shooting a covert glare at Bram to pipe down.

  “Breaking and entering sounds more like you.” Jazz said dryly without even glancing up from her menu.

  Claudine cast a suspicious look at Nettle that left her feeling cold. Now she thinks I’m a sneaky thief, she despaired. That wasn’t good, especially for her father. She gnawed at her bottom lip, fretfully. “I didn’t break in,” she protested, anxious that Claudine now seemed distrustful of her character. There was no way she wanted Claudine to think less of her, so she decided to not exactly tell the whole truth. She crossed her fingers beneath the table. “When I came upon the signs I didn’t go any further, because that would be wrong,” giving her brother an obvious glare before turning back to Claudine. She gave the eldest Balfrey an apologetic half-smile. “But I did leave the picnic area. I was just curious, is all.”

  Claudine contemplated Nettle with a cool look. Nettle nervously fiddled with the zip on her jacket awaiting Claudine’s verdict. Soon enough the elder Balfrey’s expression warmed, and Nettle mentally sighed with relief. Claudine slipped into the seat across from Nettle. Her voluminous skirt had to be pressed down so she could slide her legs under the table and the buckles on her shoes clinked as she crossed her ankles in a ladylike pose. She leaned forward with a conspiratorial air. “You’re right, there is something going on at the top of the hill.” Relief mixed with a thrill of gratitude ran through Nettle, Claudine obviously trusted her to indulge them with the truth. “When we were planning out our idea of creating Olde Town Tours, the initial survey reports discovered something rather special about this hill…”

  Bram grinned, as did Nettle. Even Jazz who preferred to spend her time in perpetual boredom, seemed curious. Bram’s imagination sparked. “Gold? Diamonds? Silver?”

  Claudine’s laugh tinkled merrily. “Oh, nothing quite like that.” She cast a wary glance over her shoulder before continuing, her voice dropping to a low whisper. “We found a unique mineral that made our youth essences and elixirs rather special, and a lot more potent than the usual brands out on the market today.” While she talked, she emphasised each point with the tap of a pale pink fingernail on the wooden table.

  Bram rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So, this mineral, are you mining for it?”

  Nettle sharply glanced at Bram, of course, that’s why that man was outside the cave. She turned back to Claudine. “You’re mining the hill?” She hadn’t considered that Claudine was part of the operation. But she supposed it made sense with the Balfrey’s overseeing everything to do with Olde Town.

  Claudine nodded, her strawberry-blond hair glinting in the sunlight reflected from the orbs above.

  Nettle’s brows drew together, she couldn’t let go of the feeling that there was something more to this mining company. “You don’t think the mining might have something to do with the earthquakes?”

  Claudine was taken aback and blinked blankly several times, before she shook her head like she was shaking a dust-feather at a cobwebbed corner. Her gaze turned inward as she pressed a hand to her bow-like lips to consider the prospect. “No. I shouldn’t think so.” Her brow crinkled, a little concerned, as she met Nettle’s gaze with her own. “I’m quite reluctant to say we’re even mining.” She then swept her gaze around the table, meeting Jazz’s before resting on Bram’s. “It’s a rather shallow dig in a cave we discovered near the summit of the hill. It’s a small operation, certainly nowhere near the magnitude of a corporate mining company. Just a few employees.”

  With swords, thought Nettle to herself. Claudine glanced at her so abruptly it was as if she’d heard her thoughts. The older woman continued, appealing to Bram and Jazz, “We can’t afford any of our guests to inadvertently wander into the area and get hurt, so we’ve posted a guard at the mouth of the cave to prevent any accidents.” Claudine then looked directly at Nettle with a such a piercing stare Nettle felt horribly ashamed, as if the other woman realised she’d been lying. She swallowed nervously. She had such a terrible urge to squirm uncomfortably it took all her willpower to refrain. Her heart-beat drummed erratically and her jaw began to tense like it did when she was telling a fib. She smoothed her expression, desperate to keep up the appearance of innocence. Claudine held her gaze, pursing her lips together and considered Nettle with an austere look. “Dresden can be a little zealous in his duties.”

  She knows, Nettle thought in despair. She uncrossed her fingers beneath the table and bunched them into a tight fist so that they dug into the soft flesh of her palms. Calm down, she told herself, pull yourself together! But it was too late, she felt a hot flush creeping up her neck. Just before the guilt gave herself away, a voice interrupted them, loud and ecstatic. “This has to be Jasmine!”

  Dolcie’s apron was dusted with flour and along with a streak down her right cheek, added a sweet allure to her curvaceous form. As she swayed through the busy tea room, she only had eyes for Jazz. “Margot said you were here.” She had a large wooden spoon in one hand and held it much like a sceptre. “Oh, she looks so much like Lysette,” she gushed to Claudine.

  “Doesn’t she just,” agreed her sister. With the appearance of Dolcie the tension melted away.

  Jazz clearly enjoyed being the centre of attention. She allowed Dolcie to lightly touch her hair and appreciate her profile. Nettle noticed Jazz had more than just the Balfreys’ attention, half the town-folk were casting surreptitious glances her way too and the level of chatter in the dining room had diminished. I bet they’re listening in to every word spoken, Nettle thought, and not without some small feeling of self-importance.

  “Pity your uncle isn’t keen on the idea of All Hallows’ Eve,” Dolcie said sadly. “Such a shame,” she breathed, and playfully wisped a lock of Jazz’s hair. “You would have looked stunning in the dress, we’ve even got a circlet with woven diamonds.�
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  Jazz’s eyes lit up. “Diamonds?”

  Dolcie gave a cute shrug of one shoulder, her cheeks rosy with delight as she gave a measured nod. “Old Man Snow is even going to give it away to the girl that wears it.”

  Jazz’s eyes began to glaze over. “Really? A diamond tiara?”

  Nettle inwardly groaned, her cousin was so shallow and predictable. She could practically see Jazz’s mind ticking over, imagining herself in beautiful gown with a tiara of diamonds so resplendent they blinded the gathered folk. Of course, to top it all off, no doubt Jazz expects to be carried about on the shoulder of a good-looking guy, thought Nettle, and on reflection of the faraway look in her cousin’s gaze added, maybe two guys and shirtless.

  “Still, never mind,” Claudine said brightly to her sister. “I’m sure we can make do with that other girl for the celebrations.”

  Jazz snapped back to the present. She thumped her hand on the table. “I’ll do it!”

  “Pardon?” queried Dolcie, her dark eyes wide with surprise.

  “No!” Nettle answered quickly, fuming at her cousin. “Dad said no.”

  “But Nettle,” Jazz said with a dangerous gleam in her eye. “I’m in charge while Uncle Fred is away,” and added softly, “remember.”

  Nettle frowned darkly at her cousin, so typical, Jazz! She obviously thought her only chance to play Lysette was to agree to it while Dad was away and couldn’t stop her. By the time he got back, it’d be too late. The dress would have been fitted, the festivities organized, the event far too… hang on a second, Nettle backtracked, Dad would have no choice but to go along with it… that would mean-

  Jazz said exactly where her own thoughts had led her. She smiled sweetly. “Wouldn’t you like to stay at Blackthorn cottage a little longer?”