Tinderbox Under Winter Stars

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  The Lindbergs were an interesting couple; he was as short as his wife was tall and his skin as milky-white as hers was umber-brown. Most of all, Eleonora was incredibly slim while Albert looked like a caterpillar who had swallowed a marble, short and stout with a large clump of fat in the middle. If marble-eating caterpillars could have trimmed blond beards and definitely untrimmed blond eyebrows.

  “Is that land?” He squinted so much it looked like his huge eyebrows had swallowed his eyes.

  “I believe so.”

  “Aw. Surely that doesn’t mark the end of our bibbing friendship?”

  “Budding friendship,” Nessa corrected with a smile.

  “Yes, yes. Brimming friendship. You must come stay in Charlottenberg. In our house.”

  Nessa brushed away the strands of her almond-brown hair which the wind blew in her face. “I fear we can’t. We’re travelling on to Skarhult, remember?”

  “Mm. Yes. You say this several times. I don’t know why. Frightful place. All city and factories. No sea view like in Charlottenberg.”

  It also has also no Lindbergs. And unlike Charlottenberg, it’s not the first town the Queen would search if she came looking for us.

  “All the same, it’s where we are going. A friend from Nightport will probably come visit us there, so it would be awful of us to settle anywhere else.”

  “Ah, yes. This Hunter Smith? I’m still sad not to have met such a, how do you say, extravagant person. We went to Arclid for adventure but only ended up paying too much for lodgings, drinking too much, and getting food poisoning.”

  “Well, Nightport can be exciting, but it can also be dangerous. Having seen tavern fights, powder abuse, and… other things there I can attest to that. You’d be better off bored than in danger.”

  “If you think that, you should stay in Charlottenberg! Yes, it is a harbour city like Nightport, but it is a safe one. Smaller, richer, and better guarded.”

  “Didn’t you say that Skarhult is richer and better guarded than Nightport, too? I thought it was a Storsund trait?”

  He squirmed. “Well, yes, true. But Charlottenberg is prettier, yes? And smaller. Small is safe.”

  “If you had seen where I grew up, you’d know that I’ve had my share of ‘smaller,’ but thanks all the same,” Nessa said, smiling to take the sting out of her words.

  He ran his hand over his beard. “I see. I cannot convince you to accept our hospitality, yes? Shame, you and your exotic tales have made this journey for us.”

  She kept up her smile, but her cheeks were starting to hurt a little.

  The sound of heeled boots was heard on the deck. “There you are, my cherished,” Elise said before wrapping her arm around Nessa’s waist.

  Nessa blew out a long-held breath. Elise was here. She would deal with the social interaction, leaving Nessa to her agonising about the Queen and acclimatising to a new and frightening place.

  “Albert, pardon the intrusion, but I fear I must steal Nessa away to discuss plans. The captain just told me we should make port tomorrow.”

  Albert's mouth fell open. “Really? Captain Levi said that?”

  Elise inclined her head. “Yes, go ask him yourself if you like. He is below decks.”

  “Aha! I shall find him. Excuse me, ladies.”

  When he had waddled off, Nessa breathed out a thank-you.

  “You are most welcome. So, what was that little save worth to you?” Elise asked with a smirk.

  A woman of action rather than words, Nessa went straight for what they both wanted, a long and heartfelt kiss.

  After a while, Elise pulled away, smiling with her eyes closed. “Mm. Quite the reward.”

  “Anything for my hero.”

  “You do not require saving, my cherished,” Elise said with a laugh.

  Nessa looked out at the near-black waves being cascaded by flecks of white. “Are you sure?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we’re running away from someone dangerous,” Nessa murmured.

  “We cannot be certain the Queen is hunting us, you know that.”

  Nessa kept her eyes on the sea. “Still. I feel like she must be. There’s an unease… deep in my bones.”

  Elise kissed her cheek. “Pardon me for saying it, but unease is eternally buried in your bones. You always find something to fret about. On the run as we might be, we must try to live our lives and not constantly look over our shoulders.”

  Nessa surveyed Elise’s seemingly carefree face. “But if she finds you—”

  “Then we shall find a solution,” Elise interrupted. “I fear her too, but we cannot let that fear take over our minds. Or our hearts.”

  Nessa looked about herself, first ahead to Storsund and then back to whence they’d come. Arclid. Led by the unrelenting, coldhearted monarch who was probably baying for their blood. Nessa hummed noncommittally in response to her beloved.

  “Oh heartling,” Elise said, taking her hand. “Come away. Let us go find you something to eat. We can sooth your stomach, if not your mind.”

  Nessa let herself be led away. That unease still tapping like distant drums.

  Chapter 3

  Charlottenberg

  Elise was back on dry land, snow-clad as it was. She was also finally away from the noisy and eerily named Hangman’s Dock, and could now take in the city of Charlottenberg, which unfurled in front of her in the morning light.

  She reached into the pocket of her coat, producing a cherry-red leather notebook. When she had purchased some of Eleonora Lindberg's spare clothes, she had also bought the notebook from little Sonja. The girl had drawn what she explained to Elise was a swarm of lux beetles on the first page. Otherwise the notebook was empty. The girl was not fond of drawing and had gladly parted with the book and its accompanying pencil.

  Elise planned to use it to jot down the architectural highlights of the places she visited. She had already filled in the details of Silverton where she was born, Highmere where she had been a lady-in-waiting to the Queen, Ground Hollow where she had met Nessa, and Nightport, the city where her destiny had been shaped and she had fallen in love.

  She hadn’t mentioned to anyone that she was jotting it down in letter form, as if she was writing home to her father, the royal architect. As if the red pox hadn’t taken him from her when she was a child. That was only for her to know. She swallowed the lump in her throat and began to write down what she could see.

  Papa, Charlottenberg has mainly two- and three-storey buildings made of sandstone, with wooden roofs. The houses are painted in muted, soft colours. Some of the roofs are New Dawning – I never would have guessed that the style you worked on in Arclid reached other continents. I wish you could see it.

  “And what about your family’s farm? You planted things in dirt, yes? With your hands?” Elise overheard Eleonora asking Nessa.

  “Something like that,” Nessa mumbled.

  Elise had to intervene before Nessa’s politeness waned. Six weeks in close proximity to the Lindberg family had taken its toll on the shy woman Elise loved. She walked over and placed herself between them.

  “Eleonora, may I ask you or Albert about the big building over there? The one with the gilded letters on it.”

  “Elise! There you are. Yes, of course,” Albert said. “It’s the city hall. Grand, yes?”

  “It is, indeed. I thought it might be a church?”

  “No, Storsund isn’t as religious as Arclid. Here in the south of the country, called Sund, we save our faith for our great leaders,” Eleonora replied. “They do not want prayers, only our hard work and a part of our coin. To keep our great nation growing, yes? In the north, however, the people called ‘the Viss’ pray to old guardians of lakes, winds, and such. Silly superstition, yes?”

  Nessa was ignoring the biased comment, busy inspecting the building with the big, golden lettering. “Are you sure we’ll be all right despite not knowing the language?”

  “Yes, yes. Most people in Storsund know some
Arclidian. At least down here in the Sund area. And you’ll stay with us civilised people down south,” Albert said cheerfully.

  Nessa began grumbling about bigotry, so Elise decided to change the subject. “Where could I and Nessa procure a nice meal and perhaps a bath before we travel on to Skarhult?”

  “Many places, sweet Elise. Farther down this road is a famous inn. If I talk to the landlady, she will be impressed because I have impressive job. I shall get you a deal for a bath and food, but without renting a room, yes? Wait here,” Albert said.

  He walked off, his speed, as always, hampered by his gut.

  “Wait for me,” Sonja said and rushed after her father. She nearly got in the way of a woman on a pedal cycle, making Eleonora gasp and run after her wild six-year-old.

  “Alone at last,” Elise whispered in Nessa’s ear, before giving the earlobe a quick kiss.

  Nessa smiled, the first genuine smile she had worn since Elise woke her by caressing her thigh this morning.

  How I love that wide, beautiful smile.

  “Finally. Tell me, do you think the Lindbergs intend to follow us all the way onto the train to Skarhult?”

  Elise laughed. “Quite possibly. Will you be nice?”

  Nessa’s forehead wrinkled. “Yes, of course. They mean well and like us.”

  “Yes. Nonetheless, I shall find a way to get rid of them as soon as a chance arises.”

  “Oh, thank the gods,” Nessa said with a sigh of relief.

  Elise laughed again, until she saw Nessa’s smile fading as she peered at the foreign city. She caressed Nessa’s pale cheek.

  “Heartling, you must try to calm your nerves. I know you like your safety and that this place is new, but you will wear a hole in your stomach with all the fretting.”

  Nessa leaned into the caress. “I know. I just don’t know how to stop constantly feeling… small and helpless. It’s pitiful. I’m pitiful.”

  “No. It is merely that you—”

  Elise was interrupted by a shout from behind them.

  “Stop him!”

  They both spun around to see a man with a scarf over his mouth barrelling towards them. Behind him was a woman in a black leather coat with fur trim. She was running almost as fast as him but breathing harder. When they got closer, Elise noted that she was perhaps not young enough to be chasing after masked men. The man was holding a bag in his hand. He ran right for them and, in one swift move, snatched the satchel that hung off Nessa’s shoulder, and ran down a side road to their right. Before Elise knew what was happening, Nessa was rushing after him, almost slipping in the top layer of snow.

  A lifetime of farm work and the heavy lifting of a glassblower’s apprentice had given Nessa stamina if not speed, and Elise was sure she’d catch up to the thief. What worried her was what might happen when she did. Elise began to run after them, only to find that there was no point. The thief, Nessa, and the older woman were all coming back to the road Elise was on. And behind them was what looked like a group of soldiers or guards.

  Someone shouted behind Elise. She didn’t understand what they said, but she saw them point to the two men and the woman in grey uniforms who chased the thief.

  As Elise watched, the thief turned to look at his pursuers. That was when Nessa threw herself forwards, knocking them both to the ground. They tussled as Elise reached them. Her heart beat frantically as she saw the thief push Nessa to the ground and struggle to get back up. Just then, the other victim hit him with her arm. Elise saw his eyes roll back in his head, and then he collapsed onto the cobbles with an unhealthy bang.

  It made no sense to Elise that a blow from a woman’s forearm could made such a loud noise, nor that it could knock him unconscious. Still, she was glad it had. Elise’s rage had been rising to the surface, and if no one else had subdued the man, she wasn’t sure what she would’ve done.

  There was a mass of shouted orders and hubbub. The people in uniform were upon the thief and clasping his wrists in handcuffs. One of them checked on Nessa, understood that she was a foreigner, and brusquely asked for her story in Arclidian. When she said she had been robbed and caught the thief, his tone lightened.

  The older woman who had knocked the robber out answered his questions in their shared language. Or did they have more than one? Elise remembered that the continent of Obeha had four languages, so perhaps Storsund had more than one as well. Elise listened to them, as she kneeled next to Nessa and checked her for injuries. Nessa was looking up at them, too, a frown on her features.

  Dash it. If she was unsettled before, gods only know what she will be like now. I wish I knew how to grow her confidence.

  She kissed Nessa’s temple and whispered, “It is all right, heartling. You were so brave. Foolish, but brave.”

  Nessa mumbled a distracted thanks, her focus still on the foreign conversation. The man who had questioned them pointed to the thief’s head and then to the older woman’s arm. With an annoyed grunt, she took off her fur-lined coat, showing an athletic figure beneath. She pulled up her sleeve, revealing an arm that shone in a way skin did not. It looked like porcelain painted a colour similar to the woman’s tanned skin.

  Elise had seen a leg that looked like that once, it had belonged to a rich merchant who dined with the Queen. He had shown his wooden leg which he had just gotten covered with fashionable painted enamel. Like this woman’s arm, it was very detailed. Her manufactured arm was equipped with an elbow, a tapered wrist, and a perfect copy of a hand. There were cracks in the enamel between the fingers and the hand, and the woman showed that if she squeezed her lower arm up against her bicep, the fingers moved into a clumsy fist.

  Extraordinary. How is that done? Clockwork?

  The uniform-wearer blushed furiously and looked down, as if the woman had pulled her trousers down instead of her sleeve up. He waved dismissively, and she tugged her sleeve back down and put her coat on.

  Another of the three in uniform turned back to Nessa, and in a heavy accent asked her for a more detailed account than she had given before. As she stood up, she elaborated as much as she could.

  He nodded curtly. “Thank you, madam. This man will be judged this afternoon. With your testimony and that of Miss Ahlgren here, he’ll be sent to prison. For a long time, yes? This man is known to us but has never been caught. Well done. Next time, wait for us. Do not take risks, yes?”

  “Yes? Uh, I mean, I will w-wait for the city guard next time, yes. Th-thank you,” Nessa panted.

  “Not city guard, madam. We work for the city and the government of Storsund, but we are with Joiners Square.” He moved his fur cloak aside and pointed to a silver and cream-yellow emblem on the chest of his grey uniform.

  Elise knew that Nessa had as little idea as she did about what “Joiners Square” was, but Nessa nodded anyway.

  The man barked something to his collegues, who then dragged the now struggling, jostling thief away. The female capturer kicked him in the shins when he began shouting.

  Elise was brushing down Nessa’s leather coat. It was straining over her three layers of clothes. They would have to buy real winter coats soon. Their thin Arclid outerwear would only keep so much of the cold out. Elise had noted that coats here were either large fur ones or leather ones with fur lining and trim, much like the woman in front of them wore. She was busy checking the bag that the thief had taken from her.

  Nessa blew out a breath. “So much for ‘smaller being safer.’ I’d like to be the one to tell Albert that he seems to be wrong about his secure harbour town,” she said, still a little breathless.

  “It is safe. Compared to some places, yes? But it has poor people, who will do what they must to survive,” the woman said.

  What was it they called her? Miss Argren? Ahlgren?

  Elise observed her. She was hard to age. Somewhere in her fifties, perhaps? The weathered face seemed to say as much, as did the grey streaks in her jet-black hair. Nevertheless, her bright green eyes and her movements were those of a younger wom
an. Her face was striking in its clear, symmetrical features. She was the sort of woman you couldn’t take your eyes off.

  Satisfied that the contents of her bag were all accounted for, she turned to Nessa. “I thank you, young lady,” she said.

  “No need to mention it. If I had not caught him, those soldiers, or whatever they are, would have done.”

  The Storsund woman snorted. “Joiners Square would have caught him, yes. But probably too late and doubtless sacrificing me and my belongings to do it. They don’t care about you unless you are part of their organisation. Or paying them, yes?”

  “Their organisation?” Elise asked.

  The woman gave her a curious look. “You foreigners do not know of them? Curious.” She widened her stance, standing more comfortably. “They’re everywhere here. They started as a union. A group of joiners were tired of being mistreated at work. In Storsund we work hard and long hours, yes?” She waited for them to nod before she carried on. “It got too much for them when they barely had time to eat and sleep. The union bought a house in a bad part of town. They called it Joiners House and started to meet as a group to deal with their employers. Thus far, an excellent idea as unions have saved our people. This one, however, was different.” She paused, probably looking for the best way to tell the story. Or maybe translating the words in her head.

  “After a while, more joiners wanted to take part. They gave what little coin they had to the organisation, which was still nameless. Soon they had enough coin, and need for space, to purchase all the broken buildings around an old square. They began calling it Joiners Square and named themselves after it, yes? I will not tell you all. Not here and now.”

  “Please tell us. We’re new here, and this sounds like something we need to know,” Nessa whispered.

  The stranger looked around, focusing especially on a young woman with strawberry blonde hair who kept glancing over. Their new acquaintance lowered her voice. “Fine. In short, their organisation grew until workers of all kinds joined them. Then they grew even more and started something like a mix of an army and a religion. Their highest ranks are all former Storsund military. They give their grand marshals and high captains an almost godlike status, yes?”