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Read book online «Sound of Sirens by Jen Minkman (best free ebook reader for pc TXT) 📕».   Author   -   Jen Minkman



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body. Misery. Disbelief. Disappointment.

Only hours ago, Dani and I were giggling about me having a Current boyfriend. What’s left now is a sickening sense of betrayal. Royce is not my boyfriend – not if this is how he acts when I’m in trouble. He’s not my friend, even.

“I told you,” Sytse says softly. “I warned you about him.” To his credit, he doesn’t sound smug about it.

Hot tears pool in my eyes as I follow my father and brother out the door. Outside, the square is deserted and strewn with litter that the cleaners haven’t picked up yet. The gas lamps on stage have been turned up, replacing the arc light that caused the whole town to get into a neighborly brawl. Well, it wasn’t just the damn light – I hope Twarres made it out unscathed under the Skelta’s protection after their provocative performance.

My vision blurs when I spot five people wheeling the grand piano off stage. No, I tell myself. No tears. This is not going to happen to me. What Royce did is inexcusable, and I’m going to hold him accountable for it.

“Where are you going?” Sytse exclaims in surprise when I stalk over to my lonely bike still leaned against a lamp post. “Eida is waiting for us with her carriage.”

“I’m not going home,” I bristle. “Not yet. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Well, where are you off to?”

“Upper.”

“Enna,” Dad tries to calm me down. “Don’t be foolish.”

“Foolish?” My voice shoots up. “Well, sorry to be so damn irrational, Heit. Guess I just wanted to believe in something for a change. Something out of the ordinary. And if Sytse is allowed to dream about changing his stars, then so am I.”

Before I can see the impact of my spiteful words on his face, I grab my bike and cycle away as fast as I can. Up, through the streets of Lower Brandaris. Past the Tower that glows with a pulsing light at night. Soon, I reach the Longway stretching out through the woods. My legs are screaming, begging me to stop and spare my acidified muscles, but I don’t heed their warning. On and on I ride, zipping past Dead Men’s Caskets and the Upper Brandaris town border. Sweat pours down my back. I’ll get to Royce’s house if it kills me. I have to speak to him – tonight.

It’s only when I’m standing at the gates of the Bolton mansion that I lose my nerve. If I ring the doorbell, will he answer? I can see the front door up ahead, illuminated by twinkling artificial lights. With a hammering heart, I press the button on the left side of the gates and wait.

“Yes?” A small box underneath the bell crackles to life. The voice sounds too old to belong to Royce.

“Can I speak to Royce Bolton, please?” I say, trying to make my Anglian sound a little bit more Current than usual.

“Who is this?”

“Enna Buwalda, Sir.” Fear constricts my throat. Do they have my name on file as one of the dissidents that was thrown into prison by now? Does news spread that fast in Upper? I have no idea. The silence stretches until I can no longer bear it. “Hello?” I say timidly.

Another full ten seconds elapse before the disembodied voice addresses me again. “Mr. Royce is presently indisposed,” it tells me. “Can I take a message?”

You coward. My anger flares up again. What right does he have to be indisposed? He wasn’t dragged off to prison a few hours ago with stains of blood on his face. “He has something that belongs to me,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “And I want it back.”

“One moment, please.”

Maybe that will make him come out. I don’t even care about the record anymore – I just want to see him. Holding my breath and forcing back my tears, I peer at the front door. The elation I feel when it actually swings open should embarrass me, but to hell with my pride. My stomach lurches as someone comes out and starts walking down the drive, but my shoulders slump when I see it is an unfamiliar man who is approaching the gates.

“Is this what you were looking for?” he says, his eyes skimming over my haggard appearance with a mixture of incredulity and mild disapproval. Reaching out, he hands me the Jyoti LP.

Royce is too afraid to come out and face me himself. He’d rather give up this music than talk to me face to face. The realization punches me in the gut and leaves me feeling so empty that I could scream just to fill the void. “No,” I say, my voice unsteady. “He can keep that. He no longer has what I’m looking for.”

With those words, I turn around and leave.

––––––––

The ride home seems to take forever. All energy has drained out of me. It’s over. The tiny ray of sunshine lighting up my life is gone, and I’m back to the way things were. Except, they can never be the same.

Without thinking, I take a left turn toward Stortum. A part of me longs to see the cottage one last time, empty and dark like a distant memory. The vacant buildings of this ruined village are emblematic of a much bigger emptiness in my heart. Of course, he isn’t here, but I knock on the door all the same.

“Royce,” I finally scream against the lacquered wood, “you’re an asshole!” As long as I keep screaming, I won’t have to cry.

––––––––

Wordlessly, I pass my grandmother, father, and brother in the kitchen when I get home at last.

“Don’t you want a hot drink?” Grandma Antje says quietly.

I turn around and smile at her. “I’m all right, Gramps,” I say, but of course I’m lying. I’m far from all right.

“Enna,” Sytse addresses me gently, imploringly grabbing my hand. “It’s for the best. Believe me. They’re the enemy, and the sooner you understand that, the better.”

I’ve never thought of the Currents that way, but I can understand my brother in this case. I’m not their biggest fan, either. “If they’re really the enemy, then why are they willing to share St. Brandan’s Fire with us?” I mumble.

“They’re not sharing.”

“But they’re protecting us from the Nixen,” I counter.

It’s my grandmother who speaks next in a fierce tone of voice. “There was a time before the Anglians came. And in that time, we didn’t need Brandan to protect us.”

“No? So what did we do? Throw our weakest members to the waves to keep the monsters at bay?”

Her brown eyes, so much like my mother’s and mine, soften. “Enna, dear. Of course not. What a silly notion. That’s not the way of the Skylgers.”

Royce and his stupid comments. “So what was our way?” I whisper. “What did we used to do?”

My question is met by silence, as expected. “We will find out,” Sytse says at last. He searches my eyes. “Will you help us?”

His trust in me almost chokes me up. “I don’t know,” I reply softly. “I need to deal with stuff first.” Giving him no time to ask me any more questions, I stalk over to my bedroom door and retreat into my little safe haven before I melt into inevitable tears.

––––––––

The next morning, I wake up with red-rimmed eyes and a sore throat. I have no idea how to ‘deal with stuff’. As I stare back at my face drooping with fatigue in the mirror, I try not to feel sorry for myself.

The albatross is back. Its beady, honey-colored eyes observe me with innocent curiosity when I open the window and peer outside. It’s overcast, which matches my mood perfectly. Right now, I couldn’t stand blue skies and a bright sun.

“Fuck school,” I mutter. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Chances are they’ll even call off school today until the mayor has done some damage control. Last night’s drama will have set tongues wagging, and he’s going to want to make sure there’s nothing to talk about by denouncing Twarres’s claims. In order to pull that off, he’ll want to stop people from clustering together. And what better place for gossip-eager upstarts to gather than high school?

It’s early. I only realize this by the time I’ve taken a shower and go to the kitchen to eat something. Nobody is up yet.

In the back of my mind, I can still hear Jyoti’s mysterious, melodic words. “No longer chased, we embraced,” I softly sing to myself. But the memory of Royce turning his back on me will forever follow me around. Unthinking, I open the front door and stroll into the garden without even putting on my shoes, past the path connecting the outer houses of Stortum, up the dyke, and beyond – I dip my bare feet into the cold water of the sea. I don’t need rubber boots today. I don’t need to eat today. I wish I could hunt for oblivion and scoop up my own tiny bit of private nothingness in a fishing net.

Clenching my hands into fists, I start to run down the sands leading to my secret cave – my refuge away from the world. Except it isn’t anymore. I let the world in and risked breaking my heart in doing so, because I believed life would be good to me.

“Why?” I scream against the wind that has picked up around me, tossing my dark hair in my face. “Why are you such a jerk?” I whisper to the guy who can’t hear me.

Before I know it, I’m at the entrance of the tunnel leading to the grotto. I go down the steps and plunge myself into the darkness of the narrow passageway, almost tripping in my haste to get to the cave looking out over the endless sea. My angry footfalls echo in the corridor like frantic beats on a drum. Even in my anger, I can’t stop hearing music – it causes the blood to rush hotly in my veins and makes me want to punch the wall until my knuckles bleed.

Shivering, I sink down to my haunches and embrace my knees, resting my chin on my arms. I can feel them out there, so eager to welcome me and take the pain away. The Nixen are singing, and I no longer want to close myself off to be safe. In this world, no one is safe anyway.

I wince when I register the pain of my fingernails digging into my palms. My anger is fleeting, and the rage of before turns into such deep grief that I dissolve into tears, the salty water running down my cheeks an echo of the briny waters out there, calling to me.

I don’t know how long I sit there, curled up into a sad ball. I just know that at some point, the beating of my heart matches the ancient rhythm of the sea. My breath falters when I hear them, far out there but so close to my soul. Eerie, mesmerizing, seductive. Their song sounds like heaven. Otherworldly voices, laced with the promise of sweet forgetfulness. I’ve never felt their presence as strongly as I do now.

Blinking against the light, I hesitantly stretch out my stiff legs,

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