As she got her notebook out to make notes, Elise remembered her father explaining that copper started off the usual reddish-brown but out in the elements, it would turn green in fifteen to twenty years. She looked back up again and realised that she now had a guide to age the structures. The roofs of these houses were almost all made of copper. Domed like onions, or like piped droplets of thick ganache. All but a handful of them were a pale green. Elise swallowed a lump in her throat. It seemed that, in her knowledge and in her memories, her father lived on.
Nessa sniffed in the cold, so Elise hurried up with her notes.
“There, I am done. Thank you both for waiting. Time to go purchase warmer clothes?”
She put the notebook away and, once more, followed Anja who had marched off to the left. Her strides led them down a broad street, lined with benches which stood abandoned in the cold afternoon.
It was still dark with heavy clouds that threatened rain. Elise wondered how this white and copper city, with all these ornate streetlights, painted white with copper details, of course, would look in moonlight.
She was becoming winded trying to follow Anja's pace, but she wasn’t going to complain and risk annoying her. Perhaps Nessa had been right, she had pushed too much too fast.
Nevertheless, it was a perfect solution. They needed a place to stay while Nessa looked for an apprenticeship and she sought work. Meanwhile, Anja needed someone to help with the book. If they worked well together, surely Anja would need to dictate more books and allow Elise to assist her?
She chewed her cold lower lip. She needed to learn the languages of the Western Isles and Obeha to help with the translations. Maybe she should start with Sundish? Either way, she could be of help, and they could get an instant home. It was perfect. Why were people always so hesitant? She stomped through the snow, taking her frustrations out on the white stuff. She took a few calming breaths, watched them come out as smoke.
It didn’t matter, she reminded herself. They’d find jobs and lodgings soon enough.
It’s just that I am responsible for Nessa. I made her come here, leaving Arclid and her family and friends. Now she is homesick, worried about her day-to-day needs, and possibly hunted by the Queen.
Elise sighed, then shrugged the worries away for the moment.
This was good, as Anja had stopped abruptly, pointing to a shop. “Here we are. They’re said to have cheap, warm clothes.”
“Um. Said to? You’ve never shopped here?” Nessa asked, eyeing the building.
“No. I buy my clothes in the smaller second-hand shops at the edge of town, closer to home. This place is bigger, though. More choices for you.”
Elise couldn’t understand why in the name of the gods they were standing outside debating. “Right, my hands and shins are covered in icicles. I am going in to buy gloves and trousers.”
She strode in and was faced with a large shop. Clothes on rails hung along every wall. Elise was used to tailors’ shops and the few second-hand shops she had frequented in Nightport. All of them had been considerably smaller than this place.
“Yes. Plenty of choice,” Nessa said as she joined her.
At the counter stood a finely dressed woman with a vacant look and a long, shining, strawberry-blonde braid. Elise couldn’t help but adjust her own hair, making it curl inwards to her chin. Anja did nothing to smooth her own black-and-grey tangle. Nessa, as always, wore a braid, whose almond-brown tresses were making their escape.
Not that Nessa seemed bothered. She was scowling at the clothes as if trying to pick out which fruits might be ripe and which were rotting at a market stall. Her seriousness warmed Elise’s heart. As always.
The cashier was looking at Nessa, too. “Welcome. I did hear you speak Arclidian, yes?”
Nessa started. “Ah, yes. That’s right. Th-Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You ask if you need help, yes?”
“We will,” Elise replied with a polite smile, saving Nessa the trouble of gathering her speech.
The cashier didn’t acknowledge the comment but simply returned to folding scarves.
Anja waved for Elise’s attention. “This is a good coat. Thick fur on the inside. Nice, warming fur is another thing we have plenty of, now that the railroads connect the north and the south,” she said proudly.
Elise assessed the coat, making sure it wasn’t just warm, but also her size and not… ugly. It wasn’t. It did however smell faintly of animal, and Elise tried very hard not to think about the animals who had died to provide her with warmth. But, there was no other option, unless she wanted to wear nine layers of cloth. Elise took the coat and hung it over her arm.
After a short while of browsing, they had two pairs of shirts and trousers each for Nessa and Elise. Giving up dresses hurt Elise’s vanity, but it would be worth it for warm legs. Anja wouldn't let them avoid the all-covering underwear made of thick imported cotton. She thrust four pairs each at Elise, who vowed to rewash them at the first opportunity, bad at laundry as she was.
When it was time to get a coat for Nessa, she shook her head. “I’ve treasured this leather coat since I got it for my eighteenth birthday. I’d prefer not to part with it. Is there any way I can still wear it? Maybe if I add more layers underneath?”
Anja scowled. “Layers are good, but they cannot solve everything.”
Elise was just about to make a quip about ‘mottos to live your life by’ when Anja added, “I suppose you could buy a fur shoulder cape. One like Joiners Square soldiers have over their uniforms.”
Nessa’s face lit up. “I'll do that then.”
“As you wish,” Anja said. Her expression hinted at a lack of faith in Nessa’s intelligence. “Seems odd to be attached to an impractical piece of clothing. But then so many things people do seem odd to me,” she muttered before ladening Elise down further with a large pile of woollen socks.
Nessa appeared to bounce with joy at keeping her coat. “I’m going to go find a fur cloak. Or was it cape? Never mind, I’ll find one.”
She relieved Elise of some of the bigger items of clothing and disappeared farther into the shop. Elise adjusted the remaining garments in her arms and asked, “Do we have everything we need now?”
“No,” Anja said and piled two pairs of black gloves and a couple of matching scarves on top of the socks in Elise’s arms. “You still need boots. I will not have you getting wet, cold feet. But we get them from bootmakers later. What about your head? Hmm? Have you even thought about your head?”
“You mean we need hats?” Elise suggested.
Anja was the perfect blend of unimpressed and impatient. “Yes. Hats! Something to keep your brain from turning to ice.”
“I saw women with some sort of fur-lined bonnet at the station. Warm but still ladylike. Do they sell those here? White fur would look nice with my black hair,” Elise enthused.
Anja rubbed her brow. “They’re not practi… oh, for snow’s sake. Fine! There are some on the wall behind the counter. We’ll look at them when we pay.”
Nessa was walking back to them with her a fur cape proudly perched on top of her pile of clothes.
“Pick up something to wear on your head!” Anja shouted over.
Nessa beamed. “I’ve got that! I took it off a mannequin next to the cape-cloak-things. Look!”
Elise lifted the cloak and drew out a small-brimmed, scruffy cavalier hat.
Nessa nodded empathetically. “That’s it! I thought it might be just for men, but it fits my head.”
Elise looked at the hat from all angles. “I am certain it does, my cherished. But is that a reason to wear it?” Elise looked back up at Nessa. “It looks like it might have fleas.”
Nessa bristled. “Well, it doesn’t. I like it and will look dashing in it. Stop grimacing, your face might stay like that.”
Anja just said, “Won’t warm your ears, but have it your way. Can we go get Madam Ladylike’s bonnet now and leave? I’m hungry.”
They went to pay, and El
ise hurried over to enquire about bonnets. She was struggling to get the stylish cashier to make eye contact.
Look at me so I know I can speak with you. She felt like waving a hand in the woman’s face, but even she wasn’t that ill-mannered. Strange. It is like she cannot see me.
The cashier gave Nessa a forced smile instead and asked if she wanted to purchase a carpet bag for the items. Nessa, wary of expenses, asked for the cheapest bag they had.
Abandoning her attempts to get the cashier’s attention, Elise surveyed the bonnets on the wall and found one she liked. “May I please have a closer look at that white one there?”
Once more the cashier didn't look at her, but she did take the bonnet down and hand it over. It was soft and fitted perfectly.
“Splendid. Add that to our tally, please,” Elise said and handed it back.
The woman didn't reply now either but tallied the items and informed Nessa of the cost. With a grunt, Nessa counted out the coin and handed it over. To their surprise, Anja had already begun packing their clothing away in the carpet bag. To further confuse them, the cashier immediately left.
“What is going on here? Why was she behaving like that?” Elise whispered.
Anja scoffed. “You mean not talking to you and me but referring all questions to the lighter-haired person, yes? The one who doesn’t look like a Wayfarer?”
Suddenly, Elise’s stomach ached in the same way it had when the children at school teased her about her light eyes or their parents made crude jokes about her parentage.
Nessa’s mouth grew thin. She turned in the direction where the cashier had gone, but Anja caught her arm before she could do anything rash.
“No. People like her claim that Wayfarers cause trouble wherever we go and that we don't like to pay for things. You picking a fight with her, or us returning the goods we just bought, would prove her bigoted assumptions.”
“So we're just going to let her get away with that? With treating people like this?” Nessa bellowed.
“There is nothing you can do or say to change her mind. She wore a Joiners Square pin on her lapel. They’re Sund-centric, believing that the Viss and the Wayfarers should not be part of Storsund,” Anja muttered. “They say we’re ‘holding progress back’ and ‘refusing to be contributing parts of society.’ I’ve screamed myself hoarse in defence of my people, but they just say that my loud complaining proves that my kind are trouble.”
“Can nothing be done?” Elise asked, clenching her fists so tight that her nails dug into her palms.
Anja grunted. “There’ll always be people who don’t have empathy and need someone to blame for everything that goes wrong in their life. Joiners Square preys on that and makes these people feel like they are allowed to hate others.” She put a hand on Elise’s arm. “There are people who are fighting the injustice, yes? The Viss, many of the Wayfarers, and the anti-Joiners Square Sund underground movement. But change is slow. And that is a good word for the woman we just met… Slow,” she said with disgust.
With that she turned and marched out, their bag in her hand. They had no choice but to follow her.
As they did, Nessa put her arm around Elise's shoulders. “Are you all right, heartling?”
“No.”
“I can see why not. You know, I’m impressed that you managed to hold your temper. The Lady Elisandrine Falk I first met would’ve bitten her head off. And rightly so.”
Elise slowed her pace, letting her feet move of their own accord. “I have yet to reach that stage of anger, I suppose.” She ran her hand over her eyes. “That brought back a lot of childhood memories. You know, if those children and their cruel parents had known there was a disliked group of people who looked like me here in Storsund, they would have had a name to call me. They would have said my mother slept with a Wayfarer. Humans are horrible.”
Nessa kissed her cheek. “Yes. We can be. But humans can be rather wonderful, too. You’re proof of that.”
“Hm. Young love – sweet even when faced with bigoted oxen-shit,” Anja said over her shoulder.
Nessa chuckled. “I was right. Your Arclidian is definitely improving with practice.”
Elise watched them.
How can they joke and banter right now? How are they not burning with this injustice?
A couple of steps away from the shop’s door, two finely dressed women, one blonde and one ginger, walked past. It was a balm on Elise’s wounds to see them politely greet all three of them. Right as the women were about to step into the shop, Elise had a thought.
“Excuse me, ladies.”
One of them turned, giving a bemused smile. “Yes?”
“I should not frequent this shop if I were you. Not only does the cashier discriminate against customers of different creeds than herself. There are also…” she stepped closer to them and conspiratorially whispered, “rats.”
The women both gasped, and the blonde choked out the word, “Really?”
“Yes, really. We observed several of them running across the floor, did we not?” Elise asked Nessa and Anja.
Anja just stared, while Nessa, used to going along with whatever her lover said, nodded emphatically. “Yes. And the clothes. There was… um… something wrong with them, too.”
“Yes, thank you, Nessa. I almost forgot about that. We think there might have been moths in the clothes. If you buy anything from here, you risk bringing home moth eggs. They might hatch in your wardrobes and eat away at all your clothes.”
The two women gaped. The ginger one even covered her mouth with her gloved hand.
Encouraged, Elise carried on. “If I were you, I would completely cease shopping here. At least until the place has been sanitised and all the clothes replaced. I suggest you warn your friends, too.”
The blonde spoke up. “I will. We have had these problems with cheaper shops, yes? But this one, it’s so reputable.”
Elise hummed her agreement. “Shocking, is it not? I can only think that they got too confident in their own success and stopped cleaning properly. That is how you end up with vermin and such. And when they bed in, it is hard to get them out.”
“I suppose you’re right. This is most upsetting,” the ginger-haired woman said. “Thank you for the warning. We will spread the word loud and wide, yes?”
Elise took her hand and tried to look concerned. “Yes, do! You are most welcome. I wish you better shopping elsewhere.”
The two women hurried off, whispering in disgusted voices. As they watched them go, Nessa leaned closer to Elise and whispered, “No burst of anger, but still with a clever revenge. Impressive.”
Anja clapped Elise on the back, nearly sending her reeling. “You’re a great liar.”
“Hm. Thank you, I think. Now, shall we go get some food? I can hear Nessa’s stomach growling.”
Anja held out their bag. “Yes. Then you need proper boots. I will not have you dropping frost-rotting toes all over my floor.”
Nessa took the bag, her button nose scrunching up as far as it could go. “That’s disgusting. You should’ve said the shop had those instead of rats, Elise.”
“I shall keep that in mind for next time. Now, where do we go to get something proper to eat? No eels, please.”
An hour later, with their bellies full and new, stiff boots on their feet, they were in no state to walk to Anja’s house in the outskirts of town. Nessa reluctantly suggested they splurge on a taxi, so Anja halted a two-horse carriage for them.
Elise sat watching the city pass outside the window. Much of it reminded her of Nightport, the bustle, the noises, and the foul-smelling smoke coming from factory chimneys, although she was finding more differences than likenesses. The cold meant there were no flower girls selling posies on the street corners and no scantily-clad pleasure sellers on opposite corners. They were all probably around, just indoors.
People paced the streets in a hurry to get inside. Some with their heads bowed against the wind, probably wishing the walk would magically shorten
, others talking and laughing with each other to distract from the cold. There were a few street vendors, but they were all safely ensconced in little huts of white-painted wood.
The houses and shops grew fewer and farther apart, while there was an increase in factories and stables. A couple more streets and they pulled up by a modest house in the shadow of a huge factory building. Anja let them in, and Elise thanked her with her warmest smile, getting only a nod in return.
How do I charm this woman enough to make her employ me?
After taking her outerwear off, Anja strode over to an oil lamp and lit it. Elise saw oak floors and walls painted moss green. The decor was sparse, as she had assumed. She hadn’t expected the cat, though. A large black cat sat on a chair and stared, evaluating the newcomers. Nessa hurried over to it, like she did with most animals.
“Hello there, pretty. Oh, you only have one eye. Lost the other one brawling?”
It meowed as if replying. Anja translated while lighting a fire in the grate. “No. Svarte was born one-eyed. Because of that, the awful owner wanted to drown him. Couldn’t sell him like the other kittens in his litter. But Orla, our big river, had frozen that day. The owner was trying to punch a hole in the ice to drop Svarte in when I walked past. I said I’d take him.”
“Good choice,” Nessa said, reaching out so that the cat could sniff her hand.
“You should have given the owner what he was giving the river, a punch,” Elise growled.
“It was a close thing,” Anja admitted. She stood as the fire took hold.
It couldn’t start warming the room soon enough for Elise, who shivered the moment she took her coat and boots off. She sat down on the plain sofa, bouncing a little on it to see if it would do for sleeping. She stopped when she caught Anja looking at her.
“I’m having a glass of wine to warm my bones. Anyone else?”
“Yes, please,” Elise said.
“If you have some to spare,” Nessa agreed while stroking Svarte.
“I do. It’s good wine. It… might be nice to share it with someone,” she said, leaving the room.
Tinderbox Under Winter Stars Page 7
