Sound of Sirens: (Tales of Skylge #1) (8 page)

“But...” I am lost for words. My eyes search Sytse, who is nodding solemnly.

“There are quite some legends in that book that tell a different story from today’s generally-accepted history,” he says. “Everything in it was painstakingly collected by a former Skelta, almost three hundred years ago, so people wouldn’t forget the truth. But the book fell into obscurity because it went missing. Our present Skelta found it in one of the museums. Knowledge about the book was passed down through many Skelta generations. He suspects the Currents got their hands on it at some point and misinterpreted it as a fairytale book written by our ancestors.”

“Who’s to say it isn’t exactly that?” I object. “Maybe none of the stories in it are true.” Yesterday our discovery excited me, but today I realize that believing these stories has caused Sytse to walk a dangerous path, and I’m not sure I’m a big fan of his decisions.

“Or maybe none of the stories the Current rulers have told us are true,” Sytse counters. “If I have a choice, I’d rather believe in our own fairytales than in their fabrications.”

In the silence that follows, my father comes back inside now that the sun has set. “Does
he
know about your second job?” I sneer, motioning toward him. “About the risk you’re taking, meeting up with strange men in Stortum in the dead of night?”

“Of course he does,” Sytse replies unflappably. “He was the first person I consulted when I got the offer to work for the Skelta.”

I stare up at my father, half-expecting him to deny Sytse’s words, but he just stands there and nods quietly. His eyes are calm, my mind a storm by comparison. Something snaps inside of me like a brittle twig when I realize I am just a child to them. A child not worth confiding in.

“But what do we really know?” I say, my voice faltering. “That history accounts might have been altered? Does it change anything about the fact that we’re still at war with the Nixen and the Currents are in possession of the only weapon against them?”

“We might be able to fight back more effectively if we were allowed to use electricity,” Sytse replies.

“It’s a Current privilege. That’s never going to happen,” Dani mutters.

Sytse looks from her to me. And then he says: “What if it weren’t any longer?”

H
is words punch me in the gut. “What?” I croak hoarsely.

Sytse remains quiet for a while, clearly debating with himself how much he should tell us. When he finally opens his mouth, a calm resignation softens his features. “I guess there is no point pretending you’re too young to absorb this.” He leans forward in his chair. “Enna, the Anglians have had a monopoly on electric power for centuries. Nobody knows how they generate it – not the original Skylgers and not the Anglian colonists in the Hanze cities. But the indigenous inhabitants of Fryslan, Grins, and Nethersaxony have banded together to tweak Current devices and invent a power source of their own. With success, I might add.”

My mouth falls open in complete, utter astonishment. Is Sytse saying that the Currents’ power is not some form of magic? Might we be able to build
our own
Grid?

“How?” Dani gasps. “Without Brandan’s Fire, how could they possibly?”

“I don’t know the specifics,” my brother confesses. “I’m not a scientist, after all. But I do know that Mr. Westhaus from Saxony and Mr. Tesla from Fryslan have developed a working system that could light the homes of hundreds of people if they had the means to solely devote themselves to research. And they’d be the homes of common people, not Anglians.” He lowers his voice. “What’s more, Tesla is willing to give it away for free. The Currents would lose their position of power if they’re no longer the sole supplier of electricity to the Anglians on the mainland. Some Anglians in coastal cities are even eager to work together with Tesla. They wouldn’t be dependent on Current headquarters in Brandaris any longer.”

My head is spinning with all the new info. “So – that is why you travel to the mainland? To consult these Westhaus and Tesla guys?”

“Among other things. But I talk to Tesla’s assistant even when I’m here, on Skylge. That’s why I go to the secret headquarters in Stortum – the Skelta put a radio there because it needs electricity, and he knows Stortum is connected to the Grid. It’s a Current device, designed to transport human voices across great distances. To broadcast them – that’s the word they use.”

“It’s like magic,” Dani whispers.

“And yet it’s a part of everyday life for the Currents,” my dad speaks up. “With the Skelta’s help, it might not be beyond our grasp, either. Imagine what it would be like to hear news from the mainland firsthand and not read about it in old newspapers. Our world wouldn’t be quite so small anymore.”

The longing in my father’s voice brings tears to my eyes, but before I can comment on his words Sytse gets up and grabs the old book. “I’m going to bring this back to Stortum right now. I’ll let the Skelta know his missing book has popped up again tomorrow.”

“Sorry for causing trouble,” Dani mumbles.

I nod along, although regret is not the main emotion bothering me. It’s
anger
– unadulterated fury about the fact that my family has kept me in the dark for so long. When Sytse walks outside and Dani trails behind him to apologize some more, I pin my father with a dark gaze full of resentment.

“Why did you allow Sytse to risk his life like that?” I spit. “And why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“Enna.” His eyes fill with a dull pain. “I was just trying to protect you. You’re too much like your mother – too emotional, and far too prone to Sadness. So susceptible to the Nixen’s call. I was afraid that all this knowledge about the injustice in our world would cause you to snap and do irresponsible things.”

“But Sytse is doing them,” I point out in frustration.

He shakes his head and the lines around his mouth harden. “No. Your brother is far too level-headed to be reckless. If I could still walk properly, sweetheart, I would have joined the resistance too and fought for my wife and for our people so we could live in a better world some day. Nothing would have made me more content after your mom’s horrible death. But I can’t. Sytse is my eyes and ears. He walks this path for me.”

That shuts me up. This, too, is a way for my dad to feel like he still matters. We all cope differently with death and disease and misfortune.

“I’m not reckless,” I mutter stubbornly.

“Yes, you are. You let your heart run ahead of itself. You don’t think things through.” He smiles. “It’s what I love about you, Enna. You’re like the fire warming this house inside and out. The beating heart of our family – but sometimes, it makes you unstable.”

I bite my lip. “Thank you.”

“
Ik hab dy jeaf
, Enna,” he says in Skylgian.

“I love you too,
Heit
,” I tell him. “Sorry I got mad.”

At that moment, Dani comes back in and our conversation is over. It would have been anyway - neither of us likes to waste too much time on saying we’re sorry or openly expressing our love. In that respect, we are very much alike.

“Shall we sit down?” she proposes gingerly. “So we can look at the Oorol program? I brought a flyer.” She waves it in the air.

“Sure.” I smile faintly. Now that Sytse is gone with the book, there’s no point talking about all the new things we’ve learned. It will only bring up a ton of questions that nobody can answer – yet.

We look at tomorrow’s line-up. Of course, Mayor Edison will kick off the festival with a long-winded speech about the precious unity between Currents and Skylgers and how Oorol symbolizes our friendship, yada yada. The Skelta is up next. He usually keeps things short, giving way to the Skylger Choir singing the ancient songs to honor our ancestors and the creatures of the sea. Afterwards, there’s an appearance of the Maidens of Brandan from the convent belonging to the Baeles-Weards on the main stage, and some folk singers from both sides on the two smaller stages near the park.

“I think I’m going to stick with Adrian Lymes,” I say, pointing at the announcement for the concert in the park. “I liked his songs last year. Remember you learned how to play his songs on guitar so you could play them at my birthday?” Dani has an uncanny memory for melodies. Maybe she developed that skill in the absence of shellac records featuring the latest songs composed by Current artists on the island. They never bother to sell their songs to us. A wasted opportunity, if you ask me.

“Lymes it is,” Dani agrees. “Oh, look, there’s an after party. You going?”

“Nah.” I’m meeting up with Royce at ten, but I’m not telling her that. She’ll assume the worst, but she doesn’t need to worry. All I want is to show him I’m not scared of him.

“And your music buddy is taking center stage on Monday, see?” Dani teases me light-heartedly, though with a slightly accusatory undertone. “Hey, you know that band performing after him?”

“Twarres,” I read out loud. “Not yet, but Sytse says they’re from Fryslan, so that’s a pretty big deal. Alke knows them too.”

Dani’s eyes start to glisten. “Musicians from the mainland? Wow. You think they have anything out on shellac?”

“They should. Alke said he owns a few records.”

“And they sing in Frisian?”

I frown. “No idea. It’s not all Anglian and German these days anymore, though. I can’t wait to see their show.”

We babble on about the festival until it gets dark outside. That’s when Sytse returns from Stortum. He’s taken a while – probably been talking on that radio thing. Dad comes back to the living room and makes us all some tea and cookies. “Will you be all right going home by yourself?” he asks Dani, casting a look outside.

“I’ll walk you,” Sytse offers before Dani can reply. “I need to visit someone on your street anyway.”

“Thanks.” Dani shyly smiles at my brother. She looks flattered – a bit nervous, even. That’s when I remember she used to have a thing for Sytse before he joined the fleet. Well, he made it perfectly clear what he thinks about age difference. Guys like him shouldn’t be hanging with young girls like Dani, according to him. I’m sure he means nothing by it.

After my friend is gone, I tell my father I’ll be out for a while to watch the stars. In order to drown out the call of the Nixen, I usually take my record player with me.

The portable device built into the leather suitcase is heavy. The handle cuts into my hand as I clamber up the dyke, but I don’t mind. I need some music to accompany me in my secret hideaway.

Nobody knows where I take refuge whenever I sit at the seaside, not even Dani. There’s a small cave tucked away between two large boulders sticking out into the sea five minutes from here. It’s impossible to go into the cave when the tide is high, but when the sea retreats I can go down the steps I found in the woodlands near the beach and safely get inside via a tunnel.

It was truly exciting when I found it by accident a few years ago. Since our island is so flat and sandy, I suspect the entire cave was man-made. It’s more like a grotto, because the interior is decorated with shells and mosaic in all shades of green and blue. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s a shrine for the sea gods, but to my knowledge we never worshipped them in temples or sanctuaries. If this place once belonged to someone who built it to honor the Nixen, I’m sure he or she quickly abandoned it after they turned against us.

Fortunately, the acoustics in my private cave are outstanding. Playing my records here boosts the volume at least twofold, if not more. In here, I like to listen to classical music by Chopin, Debussy, and Rachmaninov by soft candlelight while gazing at the stars outside.

The alcove I used to hide my big candle in has kept it safe and dry. As I touch the match to the wick, a soft breeze stirs my hair and makes the flame flicker. I can’t stay too long or I’ll be washed away by the sea – the waters are already rising. But I needed to get out of the house and away from all the shocking revelations floating through the air and my mind. I’ve always felt that our world wasn’t entirely fair as it was, but I never dared to dream that it might be changed – that we stand a chance of turning things around for ourselves.

Could I live to see a day in which I’d be allowed to befriend a Current guy? Show my dad the island in an electric car? Listen to my favorite music without being punished?

I play my old records and close my eyes for a while, wishing for time to speed up and life to change around me as though I were an old, gnarly tree seeing the years flash by in the blink of an eye. So I can escape the Sadness and fast-forward to a bright future.

But then I push those melancholy thoughts aside. I want to be a part of this change. I want to join the fight, in my own, small way, and I know exactly how to do it.

I am not going to give up my secret friendship with Royce.

T
he next morning we all sleep in. By the time I get up, the albatross is nowhere to be found near the house. It probably gave up on me today. I smile to myself in the mirror as I get dressed in my cobalt blue, short-sleeved blouse and flared black pants. It might be a bit too cold outside to wear short sleeves, but I don’t care. I want to look different than usual.

I touch some lip gloss to my lips and accentuate my brown eyes with a bit of dark-green eyeliner and mascara. Then, I braid my dark hair and stick little white flowers into the end. As a finishing touch, I spray on some rose perfume. And all the while, I am humming a Jyoti tune, trying to deny that I’m sort of wondering whether Royce will like the way I look. Thinking back to our strange and awkward goodbye two nights ago makes my stomach lurch a little bit.

“Wow, don’t you look dashing today!” Sytse exclaims when I step into the kitchen. “All tarted up for the Oorol opening, are you?”

I grin amicably. “Only happens once a year, so I’ve gone all out.”

“Go big or go home,” Sytse agrees with an even wider grin. “What do you think of my new suit?”

The neat brown jacket and pants turn him into a different person, too. “It looks good on you,” I reply. “You almost look like...”