Sound of Sirens

Chapter 3

"Miss Buwalda," a stern voice addresses me when I slip into the hallway ten minutes before noontime. "Where do you think you're going?"

I look around and meet the caretaker's eye. Old Olger has the 'strict janitor' act down to a tee, but we all know he has a heart of gold. Plus, he's an old friend of my dad's, so he cuts me some slack every now and then.

"Toilets," I say, flashing him my hall pass.

"You couldn't wait for a few more minutes?"

I give him a deliberately awkward smile. "It's that time of the month."

Olger grimaces. "Never mind. Off you go. I don't want to know."

Smiling to myself, I head for the restrooms. Works every time. I just want to be the first one out the door to get down to the harbor. The ships are coming – I can sense it. A quiet buzz runs through the entire town of Brandaris, as though the electricity powering the rich homes sparked a current in all of its residents.

I slip inside and wait until Olger has strutted off before I come back out again and make a run for the main doors. If no one else sees me, I'll be the luckiest girl on the island today.

I let out a sigh of relief once I'm off the school grounds. Dani will have to forgive me for sneaking out without her. Two girls with hall passes at the same time would have set off the Sirens for sure, so to speak.

Mounting my bike, I hoist my backpack onto my shoulders. The sea wind is calling to me with an excited cry of freedom and the salty tang of the Wadden Sea tickles my nostrils. I speed along passing my own school, down the street, zipping past the Current high school that's only a stone's throw away from ours. When I once wondered out loud why they built it next to the Skylger School in our sector of Brandaris, Sytse told me that the Currents just like to rub it in – the fact that their institute is far superior. St. Brandan High has artificially-heated classrooms, flashy audio equipment, and special evening classes under electric light.

Personally, I like reading books better. And I quite enjoy the fact that classes are canceled when the weather gets too severe. Long live the impractical fireplaces in our building.

When I arrive at the Kom, our main harbor, a group of Currents has already gathered on the quay. With eager, grabby hands, they await the ships and the goods our traders are bringing home. No matter how much their own priests frown upon acquiring merchandise from the mainland, there's always a few who feel they stand above their own laws because they're just too damn rich to be bossed around by anybody.

One of those people is Royce Bolton. Partial heir to the Bolton Industries fortune. His great-grandfather invented and produced the Siren system, so his family is loaded. Royce is the youngest of three brothers and he's about Sytse's age. As I get off my bike, I secretly observe him. His piercing, blue eyes scan the horizon and a slight frown of anticipation creases the skin between his jet-black eyebrows. The few girls clustered around him look up at him in admiration, but he doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he focuses his attention on the sea, waiting for the Skylger ships to come in.

"Why so anxious, Royce?" I want to ask him. "Afraid you won't get any toys to play with this week?"

Everybody on the island knows who Royce is. Apart from being a rich, spoilt brat, he also happens to be a gifted musician. He always plays the piano during the Oorol festival, usually accompanied by one of his gushing girlfriends singing along. It's not fair that such an insufferable person is so talented, in my humble opinion. I wish I could hate the guy, but after hearing him play, I honestly can't. His music is heartrendingly beautiful. If his songs were ever pressed in shellac, I'd buy them in a heartbeat. I'd probably cover my tracks out of embarrassment, but still.