Making a Tinderbox (The Tinderbox Tales Book 1)

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  The veins corded on Nessa’s neck. “I can’t believe you would say that. I can’t believe you would call me selfish and a liar. And then put that in the same sentence where you tell me what I saw in you and what I felt. I’ll tell you what, Lady Falk. If you are such an expert on what I’m thinking and feeling, perhaps I do not even need to be here for this.”

  There was a knock on the door. They didn’t acknowledge it. Didn’t break eye contact.

  Both of them ignored it for a few knocks more. But there was no way back into the conversation. The distraction was too big and the enormity of what had just been said made it hard to carry on.

  After a while, Elise gave up. Ignoring propriety, she wrapped a blanket around herself and opened the door. Nessa quickly jumped behind the opening door, shielding her nakedness from their visitor.

  It was a young girl. Wordlessly, she handed a small package over to Elise. It was wrapped in paper dyed midnight blue and took up most of Elise’s hand. No white ribbon this time. The girl ran away and Elise closed the door.

  They both looked at the package in Elise’s palm.

  “There you go. You have a new diversion now,” Nessa snarled. “You won’t need me for a while, then.” She started getting dressed. “I’ll take my selfish, lying arse to work. Know this: if I see your face today, I’m walking in the opposite direction. And if you follow me to the hot shop, I’ll have one of my masters throw you out.” She pulled her mussed hair into a ponytail, grabbed her coat, and stepped into her boots. “Have a productive day, your ladyship.”

  She stormed out, leaving Elise wearing her blanket, and clutching the package. Squeezing it tight to keep herself from crying uncontrollably.

  Moments ticked by. Elise felt like a mirror with cracks that were slowly growing and threatening to splinter her off into millions of pieces.

  She dealt with what she could. The little things. Mechanically, she got dressed, put some sugar pumpkin oil on, combed her hair. Only when she tried to get it curl inwards towards her jaw, did she remember the small package.

  Distantly, as if she was watching another person do it, she opened the package and looked at what was inside.

  At first she couldn’t figure out what it was. Then it dawned on her. It was a firesteel. Elise looked at it as her mind slowly put it into context. She placed it on the bed and fetched the other two things. A piece of flint. Some char cloth. And, finally, a firesteel.

  With shallow breaths, Elise stared at the three pieces. She knew what they were now and what they would become if she assembled them, added a couple of other things if she wanted to be fancy, and placed them in a metal tin. They'd make a tinderbox. How had she not known? How did she not guess? She shivered, suddenly icy cold.

  These were the pieces of a tinderbox.

  She looked at herself in the mirror. Her face looked drained of all blood. She knew she couldn't stay here staring at the pieces. But she couldn't go tell Nessa what was happening either. Not anymore. Still, time was still on her side. These weren't all the pieces, there would no doubt be a fancy box coming next. Unless Elise was mistaken she would not make her move until Elise had received all the pieces. They should be safe for now. Well, no matter what happened, Nessa should be safe. Elise just wasn't sure what would happen to herself.

  She looked around the room, lost for a course of action. Panic tainted every part of her mind and body. Her eyes landed on one of her inky handkerchiefs.

  “Work. Yes. That is where I should go. Yes. That is what Nessa would do. A solution might come to me there,” she muttered to herself. Nodding mechanically. The ache in her gut made it painfully obvious that she didn’t believe her own words.

  * * *

  The winter-white afternoon light streamed in through the window, distracting Elise and making her squint. Not that she hadn’t been distracted before. She had been making mistakes, not hearing Archibald when he spoke to her, and even been rude to the delivery boy. How could she focus on work? Her mind was on the pieces of the tinderbox at home and her heart was busy beating forlornly for an angry woman in a workshop on the other side of town.

  Elise blinked against the all-too-bright light and missed the lever for the printer which was straight in front of her. She walked into it, smashing it into her shoulder with a loud thud.

  “What in the names of all the gods do you think you are doing, girl?”

  Elise steeled herself. “I am sorry, Mr Richards. As I explained this morning, I have had bad news from home and so am a bit distracted today.”

  She saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. “Distracted was when you arrived half an hour late. Distracted was when you handed me the wrong types. Distracted was when you twice disobeyed my very clear instructions. Distracted, and the last case of it I was going to forgive, was when you took the paper out of the printer too soon. Now this, this was not distraction –this was the last straw.” He adjusted his glasses, jaw still twitching. “I can get any young worker in Nightport to help me with this project. They might not be as eloquent or as well-read as you, but right now I would settle for someone who isn’t… distracted.”

  Elise resisted the urge to wring her hands. “What are you saying?”

  “I am saying, Miss Aelin, that I am cutting your time in my employment short. I have had enough of your capricious mood and your tendency to treat this job as a hobby. Do you know how many people in the city do not work? Do you know how many would come to work early and leave late for such a comfortable and esteemed job as this one? Do you know how many people would ignore even their own mothers dying to make sure that they kept it?”

  There was a myriad of replies that popped up in Elise’s head. None of them were appropriate for civil society and some would probably have gotten her thrown out by the city guards.

  She was aware that she would only have had a couple of more weeks working for Archibald anyway. What is more, now that she knew the city better, she could easily use her wits to get another job. Still, this defeat, on top of her shattered relationship with Nessa and the looming threat of the tinderbox, was almost too much to bear. She didn’t argue. She merely gave a curt nod. What did it matter anyway? What did anything matter anymore?

  He looked extremely satisfied. Like he had expected a scene and was pleased that none was forthcoming.

  “Very good, Miss Aelin. As the day soon will draw to a close, I can finish up the remaining tasks on my own. You might as well take your leave now. I probably need to venture out to find another temporary assistant anyway.”

  He reached for his coin purse, to pay her daily wage as he did at the end of every day. She saw him count out coins and wasn't surprised to see that there were fewer than for a full day’s work. She wasn't going to quibble. Perhaps when she got herself back on her feet and sorted out the mess that her life had become, she would get her revenge. If not, living well and hopefully prospering would be revenge enough on this sad little man.

  She took the coins from him, gave another curt nod, gathered her coat, and walked out without a sound. She ambled, in a daze, back to the lodging house. She still didn't know what to do about the tinderbox or the person she knew must have sent those three parts.

  She dragged her feet, dreading having to see the pieces laid out on the bed and having to make decisions. Even more than that, she dreaded going back to the room and not finding Nessa in it. She felt convinced that Nessa wouldn't come back there tonight. In fact, she might have already cleared out her things on her lunch break. Time that Elise had spent staring into space. There might not be a single trace of Nessa Clay in the room where they had slept, eaten, shared their secrets, made love, and fought. Just the thought of that room being empty and bare made Elise want to cry.

  Do not cry. If you start, you may not be able to stop.

  She took any excuse to stop and look at something, not giving anything full attention, merely delaying seeing the room she had shared with her first true love. She knew without a doubt that this was what Nessa was to her now.<
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  Despite this she did, of course, arrive at 21 Miller Street in the end. Almost at the time she would have normally come home. She was happy to see that there was someone waiting for her. As happy as she could be, considering that the waiting person wasn't Nessa. Instead, it was Cai, soon joined by Fyhre, who walked around the corner with a piece of sugar pumpkin, clearly bought from a street vendor. It made sense that they were here. Factory workers started the day earlier than everyone else and therefore finished a little earlier, too.

  Cai spotted her and shouted. “Well ‘ello there, treasure! We just got here an’ reckoned we’d wait for ye. Ye’re home early. Did the old printer fall asleep so ye could sneak out?”

  Elise laughed mirthlessly. “No. In fact, Mr Richards is very well aware that I left. He terminated my employment early. I no longer have a job.”

  Fyhre’s mouth hung open in surprise, showing a piece of chewed sugar pumpkin. It made Elise a bit nauseous, but she was so numb that she didn’t mention it.

  “Ye’re jokin’! On what grounds?” Cai asked.

  Absentmindedly, Elise ran her fingers through her hair. Then scrunched it to make it curl in. “Would you mind awfully if we do not talk about it? I have enough woes right now.”

  Fyhre merely frowned so it was Cai who replied in the usual low rasp. “Of course. Fancy unburdenin’ yerself of those other woes instead? We were just comin’ by to share a meal with ye an’ Nessa, but we’re real good listeners.”

  Elise’s throat constricted at the mention of Nessa’s name. She needed a while before she could talk about her.

  “Thank you but no. Where are Sanjero and Jac?”

  Cai laughed. “We don’t always come as a pack, mate. The boys are home, tendin’ to each other. They’ve got their five-year anniversary today. That’s why they’ve been all over each other lately. They’ll come up for air next week or so.”

  Elise scraped her toes in the dust on the cobbled road. “I see. That is sweet.”

  She didn’t look up. She didn’t need to. She was sure that they were staring at her, trying to read her. Waiting for her to explain. How she hated to be watched. Like a clockwork doll. Like at court.

  “I…” She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the sadness. “I doubt Nessa will be joining us. In fact, I would not be surprised if she is busy getting ready to leave Nightport for good.”

  Fyhre swallowed her mouthful of sugar pumpkin loudly. “What?”

  “We, well, we fought this morning. I said things which I cannot take back. Things that she will probably struggle to heal from. She rushed off.”

  Cai gave a scoff of exasperation. “And ye didn’t go an’ explain? Fetch her back an’ beg her pardon?”

  “I was not provided with much of a chance. She told me she that if she saw me, she would walk the other way.” Elise paused to glare at Cai. “Besides, she said some deeply hurtful things, too.”

  Fyhre suddenly found her voice. “Aye, I’m sure. But ye’re the one with a way with words an’ knowledge of the world. Nessa is naïve an’ insecure. Proud, too. If ye reckon she’s worth the effort, then ye must take the first step towards makin’ up.”

  Cai nodded along. “And when she sees ye, I’d wager she can’t walk away. In fact, I’d wager she’s dyin’ to be close to you. To get an apology, ye know? To hear that it’s all right and that ye care for ‘er.”

  “We’ll come with ye to find her,” Fyhre said.

  Elise stared at her for a moment, weighing her options.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Fyhre insisted. “Munch down the last of my sugar pumpkin while we go to Brownlees and find yer ladylove.” There was no room for debate in her tone.

  Elise took the sticky fruit she was offered and nibbled on it. Not because she was hungry, but because she knew she’d need some energy if she was going to convince Nessa to listen to her. Her feet moved on their own, following Cai and Fyhre. After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at the workshop. When asked if Nessa was there, Josiah Brownlee shook his head, arms crossed over his broad chest.

  “She’s not. The lass looked like a wiltin’ plant, so I sent her off to get some food. I reckon she went straight for a big glass of ale instead, she looked like she was hankerin’ to drown her sorrows. Bad idea, that. Newcomers drink too much and too often. Thins their blood an’ poisons their stomach.”

  Elise covered her eyes with hand. This was pointless. They would never find Nessa.

  She does not want to be found. Not by you anyway.

  “Thank you muchly, Mr Brownlee,” Cai said.

  “Fine,” Brownlee grunted and went back inside.

  Both Fyhre and Cai turned to Elise. The pity on their faces made Elise’s stomach sour; she was not someone to be pitied. Despite this, she found she was aching for one of them to hug her. To tell her it was going to be all right. A broken sob escaped her throat.

  “Now, don’t cry an’ don’t worry, treasure,” Cai said. “We’ll find her. Even if we ‘ave to scour every gods-cursed tavern in Nightport. We'll start with the ones that we know she has ‘eard of.”

  Fyhre put her arm around Elise’s shoulder. Elise leaned into her. She smelled of factory smoke and was surprisingly soft for someone so muscular. Gently but firmly, Fyhre coaxed her in the direction Elise knew would bring them to the Goblin’s Tavern.

  Chapter 26

  The White Raven

  That morning, Nessa had arrived at her masters’ workshop with her untidy hair barely tamed by a hair tie, face and body unwashed, and wearing clothes that were scarcely put on properly. But she had arrived. And she had knuckled down and worked. That was what she was raised to do, and she fell back on that now.

  Still, the argument had left Nessa heavily preoccupied. She tried her best to work hard and pick up Josiah’s teachings while his wife was down by the docks, discussing a trade deal. Nevertheless, Nessa’s efforts were in vain. During her lunch hour, she had snuck out to the back of the building and cried into her juice while forcing down half a sandwich.

  A short while before work was to end, Josiah sighed and said, “Ye look and act like a sack of milk-cabbage. Bugger off and get some food an’ sleep. And get yer brain workin’! Ye’re no use to me like this. Just don’t tell Secilia that I let ye shove off early.”

  “Thank you. I think I might go get some… food, yes.”

  Nessa had hurried out of the hot shop, into the fresh air of the early evening. Or well, the air that would have been fresh, if it hadn’t been a mix of factory smoke, the stink of people, and the sickly sweet scent of wilting flowers that a girl on the pavement was selling. All topped off with a hint of horse manure. Nessa had loved this city from the second she visited as child. But right now, it was too much for her. Too busy. Too smelly. Too crowded. Too foreign.

  And now, here she was. Without a clue where to go or what to do. Her stomach growled.

  Of course. Take your master’s advice and go get some food. Things might be a bit better if you’re not hungry at least. They surely can’t get worse.

  She picked the quietest road she could see and started down it. She ignored the bakeries. No bread. Her stomach turned at the memory of her partly eaten sandwich at lunch. She needed hot food and strong drink to wash it down with. To wash down everything that had happened.

  She passed tavern after tavern, but they all seemed wrong. Too dark, too rowdy, too empty… it was all wrong. After a few roads and enough walking to make her feet hurt, Nessa was ready to give up. Maybe even go back to Ground Hollow. She leaned against a wall and closed her eyes for a moment. Everything seemed so bleak, and she didn’t think it was just the hangover and hunger speaking.

  “Well now, you look as depressed as a thirsty mouse drowning in saltwater.”

  The voice sounded close, and Nessa's eyes shot open immediately.

  In front of her was a man dressed in cobalt blue from head to toe. Even the stylish top hat on his head was cobalt blue. His teeth, though, which were visible in an overdone
smile, were so white he appeared to have painted them with chalk.

  “Hunter? Seriously? How in the name of all the gods do you keep showing up everywhere?”

  He put his hand to his chest as if offended. “How exceptionally rude. You are the one who came trudging down one of my favourite streets. I was not even looking for you tonight.”

  She winced. “I’m sorry. Bad day.”

  “Do you know what would cure that?” he asked, sounding far too cheerful for her liking.

  Nessa scowled at him. “Since it’s you asking, I'm assuming it's going to be frequenting a tavern and drinking far too much of their overpriced drinks.”

  “Oh no, sweet thing. I think you have had quite enough of that in the last few days. You look like you need some distraction. Some good old-fashioned fun.”

  “What I need is food.”

  He held his hands out, palms up. “All good fun and distraction come served with food and drink.”

  She grunted her agreement. A listlessness, almost a numbness, was taking over her. She had ruined the best part of her new life, her friendship with Elise. Why had she slept with her? Why could she not control herself anymore? Everything had been so easy back in Ground Hollow.

  At least I was in control back then.

  She was not only out of her comfort zone in this city, she was in over her head. Going back to her village seemed like the sensible option now, even if it wasn’t all that tempting. At least she would be wanted and loved in Ground Hollow.

  Hunter, clueless to her thoughts, rubbed his chin. “Now, where do I take a wholesome country lass for an evening of fun and distraction? And of course, some food for the beast that lives in her belly, growling and eating its way around Nightport. Hmm.”