Tinderbox Under Winter Stars

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  “Do you think the fact that you help Anja with her writing is why she seems… cheerier?”

  Elise peered into her cup as if the coffee had the answers. “Hm. No, I think she was perking up even before that. Still, I hope my help will bring her some joy. We have a good setup here, do we not?”

  Nessa swallowed down her second piece of bread and sighed a happy “yes.”

  “Splendid. Now, will you at any point partake of any of the other food Anja has provided or are you going to marry that bowl of fried bread?”

  “Is that your way of indicating that you want some?”

  Elise put her coffee cup down and leaned in to teasingly nip at Nessa’s lower lip. “Oh, yes. I certainly want some,” she purred with a smirk.

  Nessa grinned at her. “Just let my body heal up a bit and the next night I’ll sneak over to your sofa.”

  “I think it is my turn to sneak over to your side of the room. Let me know when your body hurts less. Or when you do not mind a little sting in exchange for the pleasure.”

  “Gods above, woman, how can you make everything sound so naughty?”

  Elise shrugged, looking pleased. “Simply one of my many talents, my cherished.”

  “Well, as much as you’re getting me in the mood, you shan’t get any amorous activity tonight. Unless I can have more of this gullveig root. It’s beginning to kick in and is not unlike eating honey cake and swallowing it down with a bottle of brandy.”

  Elise raised her eyebrows. “Sounds potent. Anyway, no bedplay tonight. We shall undoubtedly be home exceedingly late. We are going to the faire to celebrate your apprenticeship and my dictation for Anja, remember?”

  “Ah, right.”

  Elise beamed. “Two incomes, however meagre they might be right now, is something that should be celebrated with debauchery and entertainment. I cannot wait!”

  Nessa slathered her next bite of fried bread with jam. “Perhaps we’d be better off staying home and thanking the gods for it?”

  “Heartling, the gods stayed in Arclid with the rain and the sugar pumpkins. You got your apprenticeship through hard work and pain. I got my position as Anja's assistant through gentle coaxing and weeks of patience. We deserve some fun, some sweet treats, and plenty of strong drink.”

  “Sounds like someone is not sticking to black wine tonight?”

  “Correct. Next station for this train – excess!” Elise shouted and waved a piece of bread exultantly.

  Nessa laughed, feeling an overwhelming urge to kiss Elise. She never got the chance as Elise sat forward, wide-eyed, and said, “Do you want me to tell you everything about the faire? Anja was reluctant, but I dragged every detail I could out of her during your nap yesterday.”

  Nessa took her hand over the table. “No, thank you, heartling. I think I’d like to be surprised. Like I was when we found Core Street in Nightport.”

  “Oh, this will make Core Street look like a skitter-beetle trying to compete with a fully lit lux beetle. Nevertheless, I shall honour your decision to go there unprepared. I cannot wait to see your face.”

  “My face? You can’t wait to see the faire.”

  “Both can be true,” Elise said, pursing her lips.

  Nessa laughed again, reaching across the table to kiss those red lips. They were interrupted by the return of Anja, milk in tow, and the breakfast resumed.

  When night finally fell, it was time to get ready for the celebrations.

  “I cannot believe we are having our supper at the actual frost faire!” Elise yelped.

  Anja shook her head. “Wonderful. Saffron spiced rat and spider-vodka for dinner, then.”

  Nessa took a step back. “Ew. Surely it can’t be that bad?”

  “Not quite that bad,” Anja grudgingly agreed while putting on a second pair of socks. “We’ll find something edible. Everyone should put on all their outerwear. It’ll be colder than an icicle’s buttocks.”

  Elise raised her eyebrows at the expression, but Anja ignored her, too busy putting on her outerwear. “It should stop snowing soon,” she said. “The real cold is setting in. Which means less snow and more thick ice on the river. That is good, if we’re going to be sharing it with all of Skarhult tonight,” Anja said with a frown. She stalked out the door and left Nessa and Elise beaming at each other.

  “Frost faire,” Elise whispered reverently.

  Nessa nodded at her, a burst of love heating her from the heart and out. They rushed to get their clothes on and then hurried after Anja.

  The snow no longer crunched but instead creaked under Nessa’s feet, having lost its powdery softness and been crisped with ice. They were on their way to the centre of Skarhult. Anja was, as Nessa, a firm believer in walking to things. However, as her body still ached, Nessa had asked if they could hire a carriage. Anja had pursed her lips but agreed that they shouldn’t walk.

  As they strode away from the house, Nessa couldn’t remember seeing carriages taking fares on this road. Anja marched on for a couple of streets, until she came to a metal sign depicting what looked like some form of a long carriage. There she stopped and looked ahead.

  “May I ask why we are stopping here?” Elise asked.

  Anja planted her feet and sniffed in the cold air. “This is where the cable car picks up passengers.”

  Nessa stopped adjusting her gloves. “The what?”

  “The cable car. You’ve been here for weeks and you haven’t noticed one? Large vehicles that take passengers for a fee and run on those tracks in the middle of the road, the ones that have been swept of snow there. See them?” Anja said, pointing out into the road.

  Nessa looked down, and in the light of the gas streetlights, she saw the tracks. Not as big and sturdy as railroad tracks, but undoubtedly there.

  “Yes, I see them!”

  “Good. I’m glad to see they’ve been cleared. When they get snowed over or frozen solid – no cable cars. But, of course, they clear them perfectly for the first night of frost faire,” Anja muttered.

  Nessa bit her lip as a memory popped up. “Wait. I think I remember seeing large vehicles coming down these streets when Master Smedstorp carted me home after my test. I thought it was one of those omnibuses you said they have in Highmere, Elise.”

  Elise shook her head. “Not if it ran on tracks. The omnibuses are just larger horse-driven carriages, holding ten to twenty people. These tracks are something else. I saw them when we were traipsing around looking for glassblowers but did not know what they were.”

  “They’re for cable cars,” Anja reiterated. “They’re run by cables in the ground, all powered by a huge steam engine in town. There’s only two lines, but they cross large parts of Skarhult. I settled out here because houses were cheap but close to the eastern line. I trust steam and cables far more than I do horses.”

  “Oh, I see,” Elise said while staring at the tracks, which had been uncovered like buried treasure after the snow had been cleared off. The excitement radiated off Elisandrine.

  She always did adore anything new and thrilling.

  Nessa surveyed the tracks, too. She envied that, excitement instead of all of her own fear and worry. There was an unease in her stomach, not unlike the one she’d felt seeing the train for the first time. The tracks, with their moving rope, looked almost ominous.

  There was a peculiar sound, like a loud underground whirring, and Nessa looked to Anja.

  “A car is approaching,” Anja explained. “We’ll get on it, I’ll pay, and you’ll try to get a seat, yes?”

  With a nod, Nessa turned to peer down the track. Trundling towards them was what looked like a blend of a carriage and a train compartment. Anja held out her hand in a signal, and a long honk came from the cable car.

  It stopped right in front of them and motioned for them to climb on. In the carriage were two long, wooden benches facing each other. There was room on the right side, so Elise and Nessa sat down while Anja gave the driver a few coins and spoke quietly to him in Sundish. The passeng
ers who were already seated were silent, either looking out the windows or reading books. Their clothing was warm and elegant, though, so Nessa assumed that, despite their calm exteriors, they were also going to the faire. Their stillness was a sharp contrast to Elise, who bounced in her seat and said, “Almost like a train, is it not?”

  “Yes, I’d say—”

  “Exciting as the cable car is, I cannot wait for us to arrive at the faire. I want music, food, and entertainment!”

  Nessa shook her head at Elise’s overexcitement and then kissed her cheek. It was soft but cold. Nessa kissed it again, making Elise coo as she leaned into the kissing.

  “Overly affectionate as always, I see,” Anja said, chuckling as she sat down next to them.

  The cable car started up again. It was jerkier and slower than the train, but Nessa was too relieved to not have to walk or be jolted about in a horse-drawn carriage to mind.

  Four stops later, Anja bumped Nessa’s shoulder. “Time to… what’s the word… alight. The river is just over there. Come on, get off before the cable car continues.”

  Nessa and Elise obeyed. They left the stillness of the car and stepped into a world of noise and colours. Nessa knew that she was looking at a frozen river, but all she could see were vast swaths of stalls and tents, all in bright reds, yellows, greens, and gold. They were such a contrast against the dark night and the eerily white snow that it assaulted Nessa’s eyes. The moon came out from the clouds and helped the streetlights that lined the river, and the torches perched outside every stall and tent, illuminate the faire.

  Nessa smelled something like burnt sugar, warm dough, and spices. Was that cloves? Cardamom? She frowned when a whiff of alcohol-sharp vomit hit her. There was a man in front of them, stumbling off the ice to throw up into the trampled snow.

  “Charming,” Elise muttered, walking past him and onto the river. Anja and Nessa followed. The first stand they saw was selling beverages of all kinds, many of them looking alcoholic. On the makeshift bar stood glasses filled with clear liquid and tin mugs which steamed with warmth.

  “Hello, good sir. What drinks do you serve?” Elise asked.

  He smiled at her. “Arclidian? Welcome to Storsund and welcome to the faire. You’ll love it, yes?”

  “I will if I get something strong and sweet to drink,” Elise countered with a smirk and a few bats of her lashes.

  “Is she flirting?” Anja whispered.

  Nessa shook her head. “No, not really. It’s the way she socialises.”

  The man behind the bar pointed to the glasses and mugs already lined up. “We have vodka with pressed mint leaves. Next to them are mugs of fortified, spiced black wine. All for three coppers each, yes? If you want to spend more coin, we can make you something special. Something unique which—”

  “No. Nothing ‘unique.’ I know how much that costs at a faire,” Anja interrupted. “Ladies, cold vodka with mint juice or hot black wine?”

  Elise was busy pouting, so Nessa picked. “One vodka and one wine for us, then we can try each other’s.”

  Anja nodded and ordered in Sundish. He replied in their language, too, seeking her gaze. Anja was too busy counting out coppers to notice.

  “My treat as we’re celebrating,” she said and placed the coins on the counter.

  As she had reverted to Arclidian, the barkeep spoke in it too when he handed over the drinks. “I assume the vodka is for you, yes? You’re sweet enough to not require sugary drinks.”

  Anja looked at him with puzzlement. “No, I’m having wine. I’m freezing my arse off because these two wished to see the faire. Honestly, young women are trouble. If they come courting you – chase them off with a stick.”

  A light came on in his eyes. “Aha, these two are… with you. I see. Congratulations!”

  Anja frowned. “What?”

  Elise started giggling, and Nessa had to elbow her before telling Anja to take her wine and come along.

  As they walked off with their drinks, Nessa explained to Anja that he had been flirting with her and then mistaken her disinterest for that the three of them were in a relationship.

  Anja gaped at her. “Oh, for snow’s sake! People! They’re hopeless. This is why I don’t go out.” She slurped her wine with scowl. Elise was still giggling into her glass of vodka and mint.

  They were soon distracted by lights, sounds, and the hum of excitement filling the air. It was an icy cold night, but as they passed torches outside of tents or crowds of fur-clad people, gusts of heat invigorated them. Nessa and Elise tried each other’s drinks and then swapped back when Elise burned her tongue on the wine. Anja was looking around, dodging people on skates whizzing past and muttering about how annoying the accordion music was.

  “I know it is not snowing, but still… it smells like snow in the air,” Elise said, taking Nessa’s arm as they walked.

  “It’s winter in Skarhult, lass. It always smells of snow,” Anja muttered, but she smiled at Elise as she said it.

  “Where you are! I mean, there you are,” a male voice boomed from behind them.

  Nessa stopped the ascent of her glass up to her lips. Annoyance and recognition struck her at the same time.

  Elise laughed. “Albert! Eleonora! Little Sonja! What in the name of the gods are you doing here?”

  Elisandrine was bunched into a clumsy four-person hug, trying to hold her vodka out of the fray. Nessa sighed.

  The Lindberg family? They can’t be here. They live in Charlottenberg. Why would they be here?

  Before Nessa had time to ask any questions, it was her turn to be squished into a hug. All in all, not the best one of her life. The two grownups were all fur and leather clothing, while Sonja was hugging Nessa’s legs so tight that Nessa worried about falling. Still, the affection did dampen her annoyance.

  Eleonora answered Elise’s question. “First night of the frost faire, yes? No one wants to miss that. Besides, you said you were going to Skarhult, so we hoped to run into you. We’ve been keeping an eye out, haven’t we, butter nose?”

  Albert, clearly happy to be called butter nose, replied, “Yes! Fun on the ice and meeting our favourite Arclidians, too? Superb. We’ve not stopped talking about you since you disappeared to Skarhult in a puff of dust, I mean, smoke.”

  “Sonja? Maybe it is time to let go of Mrs Glass’ legs now, yes? The blood flow to her feet must be cut off,” Eleonora pleaded with her daughter.

  Sonja looked up at Nessa. “Taste your drink? Then I let go, yes?”

  “Yes? No! I mean no! It’s a grownup drink. Dangerous for children,” Nessa replied.

  The girl’s lower lip wobbled. She looked like she was either about to cry or vomit. Nessa wasn’t sure which option was scarier, especially considering the girl’s vice-tight grip on her legs.

  “Come away from there, honey cake,” Eleonora crooned.

  With a grimace, Sonja obeyed. Nessa busied herself with drinking her wine. She wanted the temptation of the beverage gone from Sonja's mind. And yes, dealing with their old traveling companions would be easier with alcohol in her system. She saw Elise take another sip of her vodka, grimace, and then subtly put the drink on the counter of a booth selling roasted chestnuts. Nessa swallowed the last gulps of her wine and put the empty mug next to Elise’s glass.

  I drank that far too fast. Stupid. Now I’ll be sloshed in five minutes.

  “This is extraordinary,” Elise said, scanning the faire. “Such a crowd!”

  Albert followed her gaze. “Most true. It’s as busy as Friday market, yes?”

  Elise’s brows knitted, barely visible under her bonnet-style hat. “Friday market?”

  “Yes. The Skarhult Friday markets. Have you not been, child?” Eleonora asked.

  Elise quickly glanced over at Anja and then back. “Oh. Um. No. We have mainly kept indoors. It has been chillingly cold.”

  Albert laughed. “Not so cold. You have a whole city of adventure waiting and you’ve been indoors?”

  Anja scoffed
. “Adventure can be having your bag stolen in broad daylight. Or being spied on by Joiners Square, looking for recruits and exploits, yes? Or throngs of people everywhere, especially pesky children who are snotty and rude.”

  All was quiet as Nessa tried not to look over at little Sonja who was sucking snot up her nose.

  “Yes, Skarhult children can be rude, yes? I blame big city life. Charlottenberg is so much more civilised,” Eleonora said, clearly clueless to the insult having been aimed at her daughter.

  Nessa actually heard Elise breathe a sigh of relief.

  “However, as someone who’s the head clerk at the Charlottenberg Joiners Square office, I cannot agree that Joiners Square spy on people,” Albert said, running his hand over his beard.

  “No?” Anja asked with raised eyebrows.

  Albert began to squirm and threw glances at Eleonora who looked, very pointedly, back at him.

  Huh. What’s going on here?

  Elise broke the tension. “Where are my manners? You have yet to be formally introduced. Anja, this is the Lindberg family. Albert, Eleonora, and Sonja, this is Anja Ahlgren, our lovely hostess and patient guide. We are staying with her, and I assist her in her work.”

  “Aha! You are the one, yes? The one what has stolen our ladies away from us,” Albert said with a big grin.

  Anja looked at Nessa, who could only shrug and look apologetic.

  “Oh, come now, we were not stolen. We simply desired to see Skarhult. Speaking of which, what should I make sure to see at the frost faire?” Elise said, linking her arm with Eleonora’s.

  “Sugar work!” Sonja screamed. She took off running and Eleonora rushed after, dragging Elise along.

  Albert laughed and indicated for Nessa and Anja to lead the way in their pursuit.

  As they walked, Nessa leaned in towards Anja. “Sorry if this is a silly question. But what is sugar work?”

  Anja waved her hand dismissively. “All manner of things created from sugar and sugar products.”

  “What, like sculptures?”

  Anja hummed. “Sort of, but only small things. Sugar is expensive. The murderous rates the Western Islanders charge for the stuff and for the shipping over! Although I suppose they do have to pay their workers properly for the graft. I hear it’s hard work.”