Making a Tinderbox (The Tinderbox Tales Book 1)
Page 9
Elisandrine held her hands out. “I sincerely apologise. I seem to, quite foolishly, have injured myself today. That pain, the fatigue, and my quick temper led me to overreact.” She crouched down so she was face to face with the boy. “I am sorry I shouted. And that I called your mother bad things. I should not have done that.”
The other woman, who had kept in the background, stepped up. “Nor should we have been running without seeing where we were going. We can all learn some lessons from this and put this ugly incident down to being weary with travel. Let’s all carry on to the city in peace.”
Her blonde partner cleared her throat, eyes fixed on Elisandrine. “I suppose my wife is right. I apologise for running into you. I hope you’ll enjoy Nightport and that your injury heals.”
Elisandrine stood up. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your time in the city, too. Especially you, young man.”
The boy still looked up at Elisandrine with fear and distrust. There was no mistaking the regret and sadness that was painted on Elise’s face.
Nessa wondered if she couldn’t be of help here. She crouched down.
“Hello there, young master traveller. I came to Nightport when I was your age. Do you know what I remember the most?”
Hesitantly, he shook his head.
Nessa gave him her biggest smile. “I remember that there was a big toy shop on Core Street. Near the port. It was so very big and had so many different toys. You could almost get lost in there! I’ve heard that it’s still there, and I bet that if you are a good boy, your mummies will take you there one day. At least for a look.”
She cast a wary glance up at the two women, and they both looked approving enough. The boy’s eyes lit up. Nessa hoped that Elisandrine had noticed and that it had made her feel better.
Elise was ruffling around in her bag. Then she crouched down next to Nessa and tried to catch the boy’s eye.
“And if they do take you to that shop. I would like you to buy yourself something small with this.” She handed him a bronze coin. “It is my way of apologising for scaring you with my silly shouting.”
Slowly, he reached out his hand and took the coin from hers. With a child’s quick change of emotion, he beamed at her.
His fair-haired mother tapped him on the shoulder. “What do you say, Bhenjamin?”
“Thank you, shouty lady.”
Everyone sniggered at that, except Elisandrine, who merely looked sheepish.
The two women and little Bhenjamin said their farewells and continued towards Nightport, this time at a calmer pace.
Elisandrine stood frozen to the spot, staring after them. “Did I… Did I just pay myself out of my guilt? How disgustingly… Noble of me.”
Nessa shrugged. “I guess you can think of it that way, if you want to beat yourself up. If you wanted to be kinder to yourself, you could say that you heard me talking about the toy shop and knew you could make his trip a great one simply by parting with a coin. There wasn’t much else you could do to make up for scaring him.”
Elisandrine gave her a surveying look, head tilted and a small wrinkle between her dark eyebrows. Nessa looked right back, slightly uncomfortable at the scrutiny.
“What?”
A small smile tugged at Elisandrine’s lips. “Nothing. I was merely musing on how lucky I got with fate’s choice for a travelling companion.”
Nessa felt her cheeks heat up. She looked away. “Let’s keep going. Those feet of yours aren’t going to hold up much longer, and I don’t want you to start calling me names, too.”
Chapter 11
Nightport
Elisandrine took slow, limping steps. Her feet were worsening by the minute, pain shooting up her lower legs and distracting her from all else. Until she saw tall stone walls, and the pain became inconsequential. The walls framed large metal gates which, despite their rust, gleamed in the sun. Above the gates were wrought iron letters reading Nightport.
They were finally here. She spotted a great, barrel-chested guard slouching against the gates. Behind him Elise could make out towers and the roofs of tall buildings. When she looked closer, she could see the smoke that rose from them to dissipate into the cloudless sky.
She turned to see if Nessa was as excited as she felt. Elise was relieved to see that Nessa seemed possibly even more overwhelmed and infatuated by the city than she was.
Elation surged in Elise's stomach and spread through her like heat. This was their adventure. This was their city, and they were going to claim it. No matter what came next, Elise knew that she had made the right decision.
Freedom. I think I can be free here. Hopefully, I can even be safe.
Part of her wanted to run towards the gates and demand to be let in immediately. But obviously, that was not how things were done. In fact, she realised that she didn't know what she should do to enter the city. What would the guard want from her?
“Nessa, what do we do when we get there?” she asked, pointing at the gates.
“Um, let’s see. We tell the guard that we are here to seek work. He’ll ask our names and if we’re looking for a particular sort of work. He writes our answers down in a ledger and lets us in. At least that’s what Layden told me.”
Elise stopped and slapped her forehead. “Ah! I cannot very well tell them my name, now can I?”
Nessa paused. “No, I suppose you can't. I didn't think of that. Right, I think you will have to come up with a new name. A new start, a new name. That's not too bad, is it?”
Nessa was watching her, waiting for an answer. Elise hated feeling insecure. What was the point of that emotion? It annoyed her. “I guess not. It is just that this highlights how unprepared I am for all of this. Never mind that now. A new name. Yes. It could be fun. I conjured up quite a few names for myself when I was a child.”
“Great! Then maybe you can use one of them?"
Elise scoffed. “Not really. Something tells me that names like Illegoria Stormcatcher or Henrietta Firetamer will not sound very real.”
“No, you’ve got a point there,” Nessa said with a laugh.
Elise hummed. “I like that.”
Nessa glanced at her. “What?”
“How quick you are to laugh.”
“And I like how you make me laugh. However, now is not the time to talk about that. We are not far from the gate and the guard, or gatekeeper or whatever he is called, might think it odd that we’re loitering in the middle of the road. Focus on thinking about names.”
She dropped her satchel and stretched out her back and shoulders.
Elise took the opportunity to root out the jar of sugar pumpkin and dammon nut oil from the satchel. She applied it to her dry lips and hands while she pondered names.
“Come on. Let’s think while we walk,” Nessa said and slung the satchel back over her shoulder. They carried on walking, or hobbling in Elise’s case.
“All right. I have decided I would like to keep my nickname, Elise. Now I require a surname.”
Nessa’s face lit up. “Would you like to borrow mine? We can say you’re my cousin.”
“With my skin darker than yours?”
Nessa shrugged. “It could happen. Besides, you do have light eyes like me.”
Elise gave her a pointed look. “Yes, but the wrong colour.”
She wouldn’t tell Nessa that it wasn’t just the fact that they didn’t look alike that made her dislike the idea of saying they were family. She had heard that commoners weren’t as worried about the taint of incest as Nobles were. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to take the risk of them saying they were related. Just in case she couldn’t stop herself from asking her new friend for a kiss one night. Or maybe more than a kiss.
“Fine, so you won’t be a Clay. What would you like to be called then?”
Elise looked around for inspiration. She saw a pine tree next to them. Unhelpful. Neither Elise Pine nor Elise Tree sounded right. She bit her lower lip and muttered the choices out loud to see if they sounded any better.
r /> “Elise Gate? Or Elise Walls?” She looked past the guard to the city behind him. “Perhaps Stone?” Her eyes fell on a church in the distance as its bell began to toll. “Church? Bell?”
Nessa broke into the stream of possible names that Elise spouted.
“What about Elise Aelin?”
Elise peered at her. “Where did you get that from?"
“A book. My favourite book as a child, actually,” Nessa said. She was looking down at the ground, hands in pockets, kicking at a pebble.
Elise wracked her brain, trying to think of a book with a character named Aelin. But to no avail. “I do not think I know it. We will have to find me a copy to read one day.”
“It's a good name. A hero’s name. I think it suits you,” Nessa said quietly, her eyes still fixed on the ground.
If Elise had wanted to pick another name, the uncertain look on Nessa’s face and the pink tint on her cheeks made that impossible. Nessa had chosen a name for her, and Elise was going to keep it.
“Elise Aelin, it is. Remember to call me Elise. No more Elisandrine and certainly no ‘milady’. Let us get to the gate and venture into our new home.”
Nessa nodded and set off briskly towards the gate. Elise followed her, keeping her gaze on Nessa’s long braid to keep from squealing with giddiness at the city behind the gates.
The barrel-chested man looked them up and down with an indifferent expression. He wore shabby clothes, the only clean thing being an armband that said “Nightport City Guard.”
“Names an’ reason for comin’ to Nightport?” he muttered.
Elise scrutinised him. Ah so that is the Nightport accent that Nessa mentioned. Interesting.
Nessa took command. “Hello. We’d like to work and live here. My name is Nessa Clay, and this is Elise Aelin.”
He made a note in a large brown ledger. “All right. Where are ye from an’ what line of work will ye be wantin’?”
Nessa replied, “Ground Hollow. I don’t know what work we’ll be seeking. Whatever is available. I’m strong, and my companion is very well-schooled. We both know how to read and write and work hard —”
“I’ll stop ye there, miss. Don’t need yer life story. Just know that if ye can’t find work or if ye break the laws of our town, ye’ll be out on yer ear an’ not allowed in again.”
Elise wondered how they could stop offenders from simply coming back in with a new name and new information when the guards had changed. But that was none of her concern. All she wanted was to be let in and see what the city had to offer.
“We understand. May we come in? We have walked far, and we are hungry and tired,” Elise said. She added a little extra eyelash batting, because flirting never hurt and she needed to keep her skillset sharp. This city was bound to be filled with interesting women.
He gave a curt nod and opened the gate while muttering, “Be careful. Thieves an’ villains always find their way in. No matter ‘ow much we of the City Watch try to clear ‘em out.”
“We will,” Nessa promised.
He stood aside, and Elise and Nessa walked in. As she looked around, Elise’s heart skipped a beat. A new city spread out in front of her. She wondered if her father had seen this architecture in his lifetime. If he had, it must have been many years ago and this place must have looked quite different. There was no real design style to speak of other than a sense of a sudden, urgent need for housing and buildings for commerce and industry.
She saw what appeared to be a forest of chimneys, all puffing out large plumes of near-black smoke. Most of the buildings were stone, many with towers. Others were tall due to floor after floor having been stacked on top of each other with little regard for safety or aesthetics. Occasionally there were some smaller, unassuming wooden buildings squeezed in.
Elise shifted from foot to foot, trying to get comfortable enough on her painful feet to take in the sights.
The sunlight stood a strange contrast to the dark, grey city. It seemed like a place made for the night. Adding to that sense was the vast amount of wrought iron streetlights lining the crowded, cobbled streets. All gaslight, no candles like Elise had noticed Ground Hollow still had.
The air smelled heavily of smoke, horses, and, under it all, something very sweet. Perhaps it came from the food wafting out of bakeries and various shops. Or the flowers that dirty children were selling on street corners. Highmere had its own scents but they weren’t as overpowering as the ones were here.
Elise found herself walking closer to Nessa, partly for safety in the bustling crowd and partly because of the more pleasant smell of sugar pumpkins wafting off both their skins.
A four-horse carriage drove past them. It was black with elegant golden symbols. People hurried along in its wake, shouting to each other in what sounded like playful tones. A man sat outside a barbershop near them and played something cheerful on a raggedy violin.
She heard Nessa suck in a breath. “Isn’t it beautiful? I mean, I know it’s not traditionally beautiful, like a pretty castle or a sunset. But it’s so…”
“Alive,” Elise filled in.
“Exactly.” Nessa’s eyes were bright. “Everything and everyone moves with purpose and speed. Like cogs in a machine. But it feels like they enjoy it, like it drives them to achieve more. There’s so much energy and colour. You get the feeling that anything can happen here.”
“And that it probably does, on a daily or perhaps nightly basis,” Elise agreed.
Nessa stood with her mouth slightly open, taking it all in. Her whole body looked like it was ready to spring into action.
Elise took Nessa’s hand. “Just so we do not lose each other in the crowd. Let us keep moving.”
They gave a shouting man in white garb a wide berth. He was a preacher, clear from his white clothes and the fact that he was standing outside the church they had seen through the gate. He caught sight of them and bellowed his message, spit flying from his mouth as he did so.
“Do not let alcohol and lust distract you from your true purpose! Our gods want you to work hard, help your neighbours, and fill our town with happy, healthy children. Drink and frivolous bedplay will never fill your heart. Thrale, God of the Sea, wants you healthy. Harmana of the Land wants you reproducing. And Aeonh of the Sky wants you to be kind to your fellow humans.”
He held his hands out, indicating his surroundings. “Our factories give us a decent place to work, while the city provides us with nourishment and churches to worship in. Avoiding its sin and time-wasters is the part you must do for yourself. The gods can only stand with you, strengthening your resolve and watching you as you fight against the useless behaviour. Take heed or you will end up a beggar on the street!”
Elise merely nodded at him and picked up her pace. Nessa followed suit, but whispered, “Why do they always only speak of the big three? What about the smaller gods? Are they not important? Ioene was always my favourite.”
With a frown, Elise concluded she did not remember that deity. She had never paid much attention in their religious classes, and people at court only really worshipped themselves and the Queen.
“Ioene? What is he or she god or goddess of again?”
Nessa looked at her with pursed lips. As if Elise was merely playing dumb. “You know, the goddess of the moon. The beautiful but lonesome moon goddess. Longing to join with her lover, the sun goddess Sarine, but unable to ever touch her again because she was tricked into swearing her life away to Aeonh, who keeps them apart. Wanting both goddesses for himself.”
“Right,” Elise agreed. She remembered the tale of the moon goddess now. The lonely and lovesick prayed to her. A romantic deity if there ever was one. It surprised her that this goddess was Nessa’s favourite. Perhaps there was more to this practical farmer’s daughter than met the eye?
Elise let her gaze roam over the tall, grey buildings around them as they walked. It amazed her how different this city was to Highmere. The capital was made of Centurian marble with elaborate iron gates and balc
onies, all painted white. Highmere looked like a dessert. White cream with pink lines of winterberry sauce, gleaming in the frequent sun. Nightport, on the other hand, was made to be used. Perhaps her father would have thought this city ugly and utilitarian? Or maybe he would have relished the down-to-earth feel mixed with grim severity of it, like she did?
Shaking herself out of her reverie, she stopped watching like a visitor and changed her gaze to that of a person preparing to move in. They walked until Elise’s eye was caught by a building in front of them, it had a sign that read Rooms For Hire. Elise checked the road sign above it. Miller Street. It was opposite a large bakery, giving the whole area a warm scent of bread which almost hid the smell of smoke and horses. A central location on a rather quiet street. Temptingly close for those with aching feet.
Elise tugged on Nessa’s hand. “Wait. What do you think of this lodging house? 21 Miller Street. Can you see yourself living in there?”
Nessa scrunched her pale, upturned nose. “What? This one?”
The towering building looked rickety to say the least. The first two floors looked old while the two above them could have been built yesterday, but hardly by a professional builder. The house number was painted on with black paint, barely legible against the grey stone which was stained even darker by years of soot. The whole thing was mismatched and peculiar.
“I know it does not look like much, but one thing you have to learn about cities is that location is key. Here we will be in the centre of town, which will help when we look for work and go to buy supplies. Lots of amenities but still a calm street," Elise explained.
Nessa looked up at the building again. She looked sceptical but then shrugged.
“If you think this is a good choice, then we’ll try it. After all, I'm used to living in a place with no windows and a leaky roof. This surely can't be worse."