Sound of Sirens

Chapter 2

"Enna!" my friend bellows as I cycle up the path leading to the Stortum Dyke. She's waiting for me, punctual as ever, her bike resting against her hip as she's tying up her white-blonde hair for the windy trip ahead. "We're gonna be late!"

"Sorry," I pant, coming to a stop in front of her. "I stumbled upon a lovely breakfast and I just couldn't help taking my time, savoring the taste of my omelet."

Dani always meets me here by the water's edge at eight o'clock sharp. We both live in Kinnum, which boasts a population of one hundred souls. It's a twenty-minute bike ride away from Brandaris, our capital city, where we go to school.

If we were allowed to ride the Current bus to school, the trip would only take six minutes. But we aren't – and it's not like the bus stops in Kinnum anyway. Our village is a pure-blood community inhabited by Skylgers. The Currents, who once came from across the sea and pronounced themselves the ruling class on our island, are not welcome here.

"You'll regret that big breakfast in a minute," Dani warns me with a giggle. "Last time you had a heavy meal you couldn't cycle very fast, remember?"

"Well, maybe we should knock a Current on the head and steal his ID card," I mutter sourly. "So we can hitch a ride on the Brandan Bandwagon."

Dani sucks in a scandalized breath. "A lowly Skylger girl riding a Current bus? Feeling brave today?" Her brown eyes, just as dark as mine, sparkle with mischief.

"Come on, let's go," I just say. "We only have a few classes in the morning, so they'll be extra strict with tardy passes today."

"Long live St. Brandan," Dani chuckles. "Thanks to him we're off by noontime. You going to the harbor after classes?"

"Of course. Sytse is coming back. I hope he's bringing us lots of new records."

"Oh, yeah! That'd be awesome."

Dani and I both love music. My friend can't sing worth a flip, but she plays the guitar like a pro, and I accompany her with my vocals, which aren't half bad. Also, my family owns a wind-up gramophone and I try to hoard as many shellac records as I can. New music is brought in from the mainland all the time, but those recordings are usually sold to the rich people. Which means they're on LPs – and can only be played by the electronic devices owned by the Current class. Sytse knows there is a high demand for mainland 78-records among Skylgers, though, so he always makes sure he and his friends bring in whole crates of them whenever he comes home. And he keeps a few aside for me because he knows my favorite artists by now. Marlene Dietrich and Kathleen Ferrier never fail to tug at my heartstrings.

"Drink to me only with thine eyes," I start to sing on our way to Brandaris. "And I will pledge with mine." It used to be one of Mom's favorites.

Dani listens to me with a smile on her face. "I wish we could just stay out on the dyke all day and stare out at sea and make music," she says longingly. "First period is history with Mr. Buma. Yawn. He's just going to harp on about the mistakes of our ancestors anyway. St. Brandan's Day is the perfect opportunity for that."

I roll my eyes. Dani is right – Buma is a sell-out fawning all over the Current elitists. "Be reminded, children, of our neighboring lands, the sunken islands of Amelan and Flylan," I intone. "Taken by the waves and the merfolk because they wouldn't submit to Brandan's guidance and protection. Smitten because they worshipped Freda and Fosta. Punished because they wanted to disturb the natural order of things."

And the natural order of things means that the Skylgers stand mostly defenseless when the sea attacks. The Currents hole up in their fortified high-rise apartment buildings in the middle of the island while we watch helplessly as the seasonal floods bring the Nixen to our coastal towns. When the merfolk call to us in the darkness of winter, the Currents drown out the sound with their loud, electronic music, booming from the gigantic speakers in their gaudy night clubs. Their territory is equipped with a loudspeaker system warning them of a Siren attack with a high-pitched beep which they, ironically, call a siren. Go figure – they named their warning signal after the devious creatures luring humans out to sea.

But we are forbidden to use electricity, reaping only the dubious benefits of being protected by their patron saint of coastal light, St. Brandan. His tower stands proud in the middle of Old Brandaris, repelling the Sirens with its bright, electric light, chasing away the darkness filled with mer-song that threatens to overtake so many islanders prone to melancholy.

Sometimes, I am truly scared I am too much like my mom. One day I might walk into the sea and never look back. And not my family's love or Dani's friendship will be enough to stop me from harkening to the sound of sirens.

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