It was overwhelming, making her head spin. She turned to Hunter, and saw him smile and nod at people he clearly knew. This was a mistake. This place was too wild, too crowded, too outlandish, too… dark for Nessa. She desperately wished Elise was here. Elise would help her make sense of this. Nessa’s whole body was tense, her shoulders creeping up towards her ears.
Hunter was staring at her. “Nessa? Are you sure you want to be here? Should I take you home?”
He sounded mothering again. Like she was a vulnerable child. Like she wasn’t brave or street smart enough for this place. Like she was too addicted to safety to be able to be without it even for a night.
Nessa planted her feet and straightened her back. “Yes. This is exactly where I want to be. I want a tall drink and a card game.”
He gave her a long look. “All right. If you are sure. I will come with you to order a drink. Then I will set you up at a table where the stakes are not too high and the players are not too murderous.”
They walked over to the bar. Hunter began speaking familiarly with one of the barkeeps, a big burly man with a beard. The smell of alcohol was stronger here, but there was also an overwhelming sweet smell. It seemed to emanate from the glass that a short, blonde, and busty barkeep was filling. She looked up at Nessa and winked.
Nessa smiled shyly and looked back down at the drink. “W-what’s that you are making? Sorry if it's obvious. I'm not very good with drinks.”
“Don’t fret, pretty. I made it up, an’ I call it Sunset Burn. Ye’ll know why when ye see an’ taste it. It starts with unsweetened winterberry juice, tart as ye like. Then some winterberry brandy an’ a dash of sunberry essence. Followed by a healthy helpin’ of a strong, imported booze from Storsund by the name of vodka. Then I top the whole thing with lots of sugared sunberries. Sweet, tart, an’ packs a punch. Like me.”
She winked again, and Nessa felt her cheeks grow hot.
“I'd like one of those, please,” Nessa said in a choked squeak.
“Aye. Let me finish up this one, an’ then I’ll get started on one for ye, tall beauty.”
Nessa liked being the tall one, up until it made her think of Elise usually having that role. “Sure. Thanks,” she muttered, looking down at the sticky floor.
Hunter tapped her on the shoulder. “Sounds like you found a drink. Good. I have asked my friend Svein here for a cheese and shroom sandwich for you and a suitable table you can join. He reckons that the big round table in the corner over there is playing Four of a Kind. The blokes are apparently hassle-free and have been asking for players. I would suggest you join them when you get your drink.”
He looked at her appraisingly. She returned his gaze and straightened her back. After all, it was merely some drinks and a card game. She had handled bar brawls and drunk, pushy men. She could look after herself.
Are you sure about that? This isn’t Ground Hollow. These aren’t the neighbouring boys with more brawn than brains.
She ignored the treacherous worry creeping in. “Yes, that's fine. Thank you for your help. Now run along to the Goblin’s Tavern. I've got it from here.”
Hunter frowned. “If you say so. If you get into trouble, signal Svein here. Get the short blondie to fetch him or something. I have asked him to lend you a hand if you need it.”
“I'm sure I won’t. But thank you again.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “Please do not end up being careless because you have a broken heart. You’ve nothing to prove, love.”
He bowed to her and then pranced out. As if he hadn't a care in the world, poured full of all the confidence that could fit into a man. Oh, how she envied that self-assurance. Even if it wasn’t completely genuine.
Nessa turned back to the bar. The short barkeep handed her a sandwich which Nessa ate slowly while her drink was being made. As the ingredients were being poured into a glass, which almost looked clean, Nessa pulled her gaze over to the white ravens. Their cage spanned the entire wall behind the bar. As she chewed, she mused that the tavern could have been a lot larger if so much of it was not taken up by the cage. The novelty of the birds must be worth it.
One of them flapped its wings and then took flight, leaving its two cage mates on their perch. It flew to the other side of the cage, giving Nessa a closer view. It looked odd. Ravens were meant to be black, ominous, and brooding. Strangely, these birds’ white colour didn't make them look any less eerie. In fact, it made them look unnatural, like their colour had been bled out of their feathers. Their pallid beaks appeared to melt into the white.
Nessa met the bird’s gaze. Its eyes, milky with a little dark centre, stood out, like they were pieces of enamel glued to the bird. It tilted its head as it stared at her, as if it was trying to tell her something. Something she should know. Judging her. Calling her dumb, prideful. Self-harming.
Nessa looked away, focusing on the glass that now contained liquids the colours of a sunset bleeding into each other. As the barkeep took out a bowl of dried sunberries and slowly plunged her fingers into it, she gave Nessa a suggestive smile. Nessa understood all too clearly what the gesture was a euphemism for. Did the barkeep flirt like this with everyone or had she just taken a liking to Nessa? If the latter was the case, Nessa could have revenge on Elise by bedding this attractive blonde. But of course, she didn’t want to.
Once more she was struck by her own disinterest in bedplay outside of a relationship. It seemed like such an empty, overly complicated way to deal with a physical need. A need that could be resisted, like she usually did. Or if you couldn’t resist, a need which was easily handled with your own hands or the corner of a pillow. Others clearly saw a point in it, but it was lost on her. At least it had been. Then last night happened. It was different. What exactly was last night?
Everything.
It had shaken her to the core. Almost made her cry, and not because she had been drunk. The knowledge that to Elise it had purely been bedplay for fun nearly smothered her. During the fight, what had Elise said about it? Nessa had been so hurt and confused that she hadn’t taken the words in.
She shook her head, trying to shake the puzzlement and aching out of it.
“There ye go, tall beauty. Here's yer Sunset Burn. That’ll be three coppers.”
Nessa took the coin purse out of her pocket, trying not to wince at the steep price. When she went to put the copper coins in the barkeep’s outstretched hand, she felt the blonde use her fingers to caress her wrist. Nessa hastily smiled, thanked her, and took her drink. She turned before the barkeep could reply and headed for the table that Hunter had pointed out to her.
There were three men there. One was shuffling the cards while another drank deep from a glass of ale. The third was holding court, telling a story which had the other two laughing, making the drinking one almost choke on his ale.
There was a hard lump of discomfort in her belly. She was standing by the table now. They all turned to look at her. She was relieved to see their faces were expectant, not unwelcoming.
“Good evening, gentlemen. The barkeep, the big bearded one, said that you were looking for a fourth player?”
The man who had been telling tales looked about Nessa’s age. He was plainly going for the handsome scoundrel type, and pulling it off with his glittering eyes and a dimple in his badly shaven chin, He smiled, flashing teeth as chalk-white as Hunter’s. How did they get their teeth so white? Elise had bought some sort of alcoholic herbal tonic that she rinsed with each night, and yes, Nessa had picked up that habit too. Mainly to make sure that her breath smelled nice as they went to sleep. But even Elise’s clever tonic could not make teeth white. Did they actually paint them?
I’ll have to ask Elise. No wait. Ah, oxen shit.
While his teeth were white, the shirt that covered his broad chest and had probably been white once, was now a mottled mix of cream and grey. Including dark brown, drop-shaped stains on his collar. Nessa had no doubt it was blood. She could only hope that he had cut himself shaving.
The handsome man wore braces to keep his brown, leather trousers up, he hooked his thumbs into them as he smiled at her. Puffing his chest out.
The ale-drinking man, who was sitting very close to him, was shorter and less handsome. Ghost-white skin, gaunt cheeks, and yellow buckteeth. He snorted at the handsome man’s puffed out chest and pulled one of the braces, snapping it back on his friend’s thumb. Then he went back to his ale. He wore the light grey uniform of a factory worker, but he had crimson and cobalt stains everywhere, marking him out as someone employed in the dye works.
She briefly wondered if he had manufactured the dye which had been used for the midnight blue wrapping paper that their strange packages arrived in. Now she might never know the mystery of those packages.
The third man was older, tawny-skinned, and had a large scar across his forehead and down towards his dark brown eyes. He was bald but was sporting a large, oiled moustache. The moustache oil smelled of something sweet, maybe figs? The cloying scent hung heavy around the man. Too heavy. Nessa took a step away from him and towards a chair closer to the others.
The handsome one gave her a broad smile. “Of course, we’d welcome a fourth player. Especially a pretty one, like ye. We’re bleedin’ bored to the teeth of each other’s company. Some new blood sure would be welcome. Do ye play Four of a Kind?”
Nessa had played it a number of times. Her father had taught her when she got tired of simpler games like Fool the Angel. However, playing it with her father or with the other children at school was different than playing it here for coin. Still, she knew she betted sensibly and that she was ready to lose a lot today. What would she spend her coin on back in Ground Hollow anyway? She needed the thrill and distraction right now. No thoughts or feelings, just risk and the chance to overcome her worries.
She sat down and got comfortable, leaning back as if she owned the place. “Sure. Deal the cards.”
She didn’t introduce herself. This didn’t seem like the sort of place where you made friends. She simply took a long drink of her Sunset Burn. As promised, it was fiery with alcohol and tasted a confusing mix between sweet and tart. She took another swig and relished the alcohol burning its way into her stomach.
Soon the cards were dealt. Nessa looked at the four that had been counted out for her. She hoped that when she picked them up, she would find at least two, preferably three, or, in a perfect world, four of a kind. Then it was all about betting and the next four cards she was dealt. After that she would have to play the hand she’d been dealt and hope that within those eight cards was at least one set of four.
She picked up her cards and saw the six of rubies and the six of onyx. Two of a kind. That was a start. And it was something to bet on. She squared her shoulders and returned the smile the handsome man was still bestowing on her. She saw the corners of his mouth twitch a little, the smile faltering for an instant, like he suddenly wasn't so sure of what she might do next. Neither, she realised, was Nessa.
Chapter 27
Searching for Nessa Clay
Elise, Fyhre, and Cai walked into the tavern where she and Nessa had bought Layden a tart before he returned to Ground Hollow. Gods, how Elise hoped Nessa hadn’t followed in his footsteps. What if she wasn’t in Nightport anymore, but trudging back to the village where Elise’s words all but sent her? Why had she hurt Nessa like that? She blamed her quick temper, she blamed her unrequited love, she blamed the hangover, she blamed her sharp tongue. She blamed herself so much that she wanted to hurt herself.
Cai clapped her on the back. “Well, that ain’t a good face. Less down in the dumps, more fightin’ spirit, please. We’re findin’ yer woman an’ then ye can sweet-talk her an’ win her back.”
Elise scoffed listlessly. “I am not so certain. Certainly not in here, the place appears all but deserted.”
“Too early in the evenin’ for punters. I’m a’ look around anyway,” Fyhre muttered and marched off.
“What happened ‘tween you two?” Cai asked, glancing around the tavern.
Elise sighed, taking a few steps into the room. “We ended up making love last night.”
“Hey! Nice goin’ for a posh lass. Why is she not speakin’ to ye today? Did ye do it wrong?”
Elise turned to glare. “No, I did not! We fought this morning. I wanted to talk about what had happened and explain that it meant a lot to me. That I had fallen for her. I wanted us to stay home from work and discuss our future —”
Cai interrupted. “Nessa Clay skip work? Never.”
“Yes. That is basically what she said. She was so nonchalant and evasive. It got my dander up. Well, that and being frightened that she would reject me. Of course, having just woken up and being hungry did not help in the slightest.”
“Don’t forget hungover.”
“Thank you, Cai. Yes. That, too,” Elise said acerbically, while checking if the tavern had a basement. It didn’t.
Cai nodded to a bored barkeep and then looked back to Elise. “Was that it? All this bleedin’ fuss over that?”
“Well, no. We both got more upset than we should, and we started saying hurtful things to each other. We lanced the wound, and all sorts of poison spilled out. I gather she thought I was only bedding her for fun, as a conquest. If she meant that. She said an awful lot of things. I hope she did not mean them all,” Elise said quietly.
“Why would she reckon that?”
“She…” Elise hesitated. “Might not have thought that love was an option with me. When we met, I told her that I did not engage in bedplay for love, only for fun. Still, it has been obvious that I have fallen in love with her this past fortnight, has it not?”
Cai hummed. “Aye. To us. But Nessa’s different.”
“Yes. I need to talk to her. I will be so patient and calm this time. I will grovel and explain that the things I said were only to hurt her, to defend myself, and that they were dumb. But what if she is gone? Or refuses to speak to me? She is the best thing in my life. I look at her and I see my future, the only future I want. If she does not want me, I will accept that. If she stays away because of a misunderstanding, however… I cannot bear the thought.”
Cai started to say something but stopped, instead opting for clapping Elise on the back again. There really wasn’t anything to say, was there? Elise had found the most marvellous person in the world and somehow won her trust and affection. Then she and her stupid mouth had burned it all to the ground. Perhaps she should simply pick up the pieces of the tinderbox and go willingly to their sender. To her.
Fyhre walked back to them. “Unless she disguised ‘erself as a bunch of fishermen with long beards, she ain’t here.”
Elise screamed and punched the wall hard, immediately regretting it as the pain seared in her knuckles and saw her companions jolt.
Cai sought her gaze. “Look. If she’s in Nightport, ye’ll find her. If she went back to her little piss pot village, ye’ll find her. If she’s the only future you want, ye’ll keep lookin’ for as long as it takes. When ye find her, just be honest an’ calm. She loves ye back. I’m willin’ to bet my shirt on it.”
“Don’t. The factory owns it,” Fyhre muttered and opened the door for them.
Cai chuckled that deep, hoarse laugh. Elise tried to at least smile, for their sake, but her face appeared to have forgotten how that worked.
Chapter 28
Game Changer
An hour later, Nessa and the three men were all warmed up and well into their game. Nessa had won a fair few hands, mainly because she had been lucky with the cards and bet steadily but aggressively. However, a few times it was because she had bluffed successfully. Bluffing was not usually her thing, and clearly her appearance showed it, as the men had not expected it. A lever in Nessa’s mind had been pulled. Why shouldn't she bluff? What did she have to lose? She was probably going to go home to Ground Hollow tomorrow. Maybe even tonight.
She’d help her parents at the farm and take it over one day, settling down with some nice woman or man from the village. She took another long pull of her drink.
Nessa won more and more, while the handsome man was right behind her on the winning streak. The man from the dye works, however, had lost almost all his coin. He was cursing under his breath and gulping down his third glass of ale.
The blonde barkeep came over for the third time, asking if they wanted something else. As per the other times, they all said yes. She took their orders and left.
The handsome man turned to Nessa. “Well now, we don’t usually get such speedy service. What ‘ave ye done to, or with, the lovely Leighla to make ‘er rush over ‘ere every eye blink?”
He waggled his eyebrows. She was about to reply, but realised she didn’t care if he thought she was bedding the barkeep. She merely shrugged.
The barkeep — Leighla was it? — soon came back with their drinks. She put another winterberry brandy in front of Nessa and leaned in close to ask, “Do ye need anythin’ else, pretty? Some dammon nuts, maybe?”
She placed her hand on Nessa’s shoulder. The feel of the hand, even through Nessa’s shirt, felt so intimate. It was all wrong. Her hand was too warm and too big. Not like Elise’s at all. Nessa’s heart thudded. She wanted Elise with her so badly, like a child wants its security blanket. She needed her. Could there be a way that Elise might love her?
No. No one truly falls in love with you. They love you as a friend, family member, or a pet. Or they fall in love with their idea of you, thinking that dependable Nessa will make a good wife.
That had been the case in her long-term relationships, she knew that now. She didn't blame them, she didn't much see what she had to offer to anyone.
She was growing maudlin. The self-pity and loathing disgusted her. Perhaps she had had too many drinks. She didn't care; she ordered another glass of brandy and said yes to the dammon nuts.
Making a Tinderbox (The Tinderbox Tales Book 1) Page 27