Sound of Sirens

Chapter 9

The next day at school, I am strangely withdrawn. Not that I am usually the biggest chatterbox in all of Brandaris, but even the teachers seem to notice that I'm abnormally quiet. But I can't help it – my stomach feels like a bunched-up bundle of nerves and my heart flutters like an anxious bird.

I've never felt like this before. And the stupid thing is that I don't even really like Royce that much as a person. What's more, I don't trust him either. But the fact that he wants to meet up with me again and his genuine worry about me walking back home in the dark two nights ago make me forget all of that. I feel special because of him, and I haven't felt like that in a very long time. I think the last time was when I sang one of my own songs for my mom and it drove her to tears. Yeah, I enjoy making people cry. I am such a freak, right? But I knew back then that my mother's tears were different from her usual Sadness-induced crying – I deeply touched her heart. And I realize I want to do the same thing to Royce. To feel alive and powerful again.

All through calculus, I go through the impending secret date in my mind. What will I say? What can I bring with me? Should I play him some of my own records? I wonder what he'll think of them. Maybe he won't even be there after all – he has to prepare for the festival this weekend. He's playing several gigs, and the first recital will be on Monday.

As background chatter to my main concern of the day is a voice repeating one number over and over again in my head. 1323 – the year in which the Tower was built. Irrefutable proof that the wrong history was written by the victors. I wonder what Dani will discover once she goes home to read in the book after school. She didn't have time to read more than a few pages before bed last night and it's been driving her crazy.

"I'll drop by after eight, okay?" she says once we leave the building. "We can spend all night talking. Oorol doesn't start until noon, so we can sleep in."

"I'll be waiting," I reply. We won't be cycling home together today, because I need to wait for Alke. I promised to help him with his German. He has a re-sit at four o'clock, together with all the others who failed their preliminaries in April.

Just as I'm sitting down on a bench in the schoolyard to unwrap some cookies I brought as a snack, Alke pops up behind me.

"Hey, Enna." He takes a seat next to me, his textbook in his hand. "How's life? You excited about the festival?"

"Of course," I reply with a smile. "I'm a lover of the arts, you know that."

Alke grins. "I picked Oorol as a topic for my oral exam. Maybe we can talk about it in German?"

"Klar!" I nod, and start asking him questions in my best German. I sound different from Mrs. Atsma – she learned the German language of Nethersaxony, but I mostly learned it from listening to Marlene Dietrich. I hope it won't ruin Alke's pronunciation, but quite frankly, there's not that much to ruin in the first place. His German is pretty horrible.

"Und Twarres ist auch dabei," he mentions at some point. "Am Montag."

I blink in surprise. "A band called Twarres is coming on Monday?" I repeat in Anglian. "That's the first time I've heard of them. Who are they?"

"Oh." Alke looks a little bit caught. "They're a Frisian band. I own a couple of their records."

He's talking about the band from the mainland – the same one Sytse mentioned to me. "How do you know about that?" I inquire with a frown.

"Someone mentioned it," Alke replies vaguely, his eyes guarded.

"Someone," I repeat flatly. Why does Alke look as though he's spilled the beans? "Well, cool. It must be quite a talented bunch if the Skelta invited them personally."