13. haircuts & home

129 7 0
                                    

Elara had thought that Djerholm would look like Ketterdam. With Ketterdam's smoky gray skies, and ships of every kind bustling through the murky waters. Djerholm's harbor was crowded with ships, but its tidy streets were marched through the water in orderly fashion. Their houses were painted in bright, fun, colors which Elara thought put Ketterdam's to shame. Even their warehouses were painted in such cheerful colors, contrasting against the wild white land surrounding them all.

Elara had always envisioned the Ice Court in her mind on certain occasions. Though, seeing it in person was an entirely different story. She had always thought it would contain fire, or overall look much more terrifying and dark than what stood before her. But what lay on the inside, would more than match her description of what she once had expected it to look like.

Inej tugged on her sleeve lightly, pulling her as Kaz steered them towards a run-down tavern they had found.

"Here?" Jesper complained, peering into the dank main room. The whole place stank of garlic and fish, making Elara scrunch up her face in disgust.

Kaz just gave a significant glance upward and said, "Terrace."

"What's a gestinge?" Inej wondered.

"It means 'paradise,'" said Matthias. Even he looked skeptical.

Nina helped secure them a table on the tavern's rooftop terrace. It was mainly empty, the weather still too cold to attract many patrons. Or maybe they'd been scared away by the food — which looked too similar to Nina's cooking, much to Elara's disgust as the girl could not cook for the life of her.

Jesper looked down at his plate and complained. "Kaz, if you want me dead, I prefer a bullet to poison." 

Nina scrunched her nose. "When I don't want to eat, you know there's a problem."

"We're here for the view, not the food." Kaz replied.

There was no coffee available, so they had to order tea and little glasses of brannvin that burned going down but helped to keep them warm as a wind picked up, stirring the silvery ribbons tied to the ash boughs lining the street below.

"We're going to start looking inconspicuous soon," said Nina. "This isn't the kind of place people like to linger."

"Maybe they don't have anyone to take to jail," suggested Wylan.

"There's always someone to take to jail." Kaz replied, then bobbed his chin toward the road. "Look."

A boxy wagon was rolling to a stop at the guardhouse. Elara noticed its roof and high sides were covered in black canvas, and it was drawn by four stout horses. The door at the back was heavy iron, bolted, and padlocked.

Kaz reached into his coat pocket. "Here," he said and handed Jesper a slender book with an elaborate cover.

"Are we going to read to each other?" Jesper asked.

"I do love a good book —" Elara started.

"Just flip it open to the back." Kaz interrupted. Elara rolled her eyes.

Jesper opened the book and peered at the last page, puzzled. "So?"

"Hold it up so we don't have to look at your ugly face."

"My face has character. Besides — oh!"

"An excellent read, isn't it?"

"Who knew I had a taste for literature?"

Jesper passed it to Wylan, who took it tentatively. "What does it say?"

"Just look," said Jesper.

set aflame, kb [disc]Where stories live. Discover now