by Jen Minkman
No sign of anyone living here. Sytse’s mysterious friend must have left after him. I take a few hesitant steps inside and gawk at the book spines. These volumes were printed a long time ago. Some of them even seem to be hand-written. A leather tome with gilded lettering on the spine catches my eye. “From A Watery Grave,” it reads in the old Skylger tongue. I pull out the book and almost drop it because it is far heavier than I expected. I don’t think this is paper. The pages are more like the old parchment I saw once, at the museum in Brandaris.
When I open the book, I see that the handwriting looks ancient, too. This old-fashioned alphabet is no longer used by anyone. The Skylgian text in this tome must be at least three hundred years old, if not older.
A tiny tremor of excitement runs through me. I want this book. Just like I want to listen to the forbidden LP and hang out with a boy that’s out of my league. I want to be brave.
With trembling hands, I slip the book into my school bag and hoist it onto my back. Wincing, I wriggle my shoulders to make the weight more comfortable, but that’s pointless. The best thing would be to drop it off at home before going to school, but I’m running out of time. I’ll have to drag it with me to Brandaris and hide it in my room later.
“So, did you study your vocabulary lists?” Dani inquires when I hit the brakes and stop next to her. She’s eating an apple while balancing a German textbook on the left handle bar of her bike. Her forehead is creased with worry. “I think I’m gonna flunk this one.”
Great. I haven’t even opened the book last night, so that means I’m going to get a bad grade too. “Well, I tried,” I half-heartedly lie.
Dani shoots me a sideward glance. “Why are you blushing?” she inquires, perceptive as ever. Sometimes I hate my best friend.
I look away. “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are!” She stares at me and I feel the red on my cheeks intensify. “What’s up? Enna! Did you brush me off for a date without telling me?”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t a date.”
“Then what?”
My voice catches in my throat. The book in my bag suddenly seems to weigh a ton. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone,” I whisper at last, even though there’s no one around to overhear.
“Of course.” Dani’s eyes widen with eager anticipation. She loves gossip and secrets, but she’s true to her word – if she says she won’t tell, she’ll keep her mouth shut. That’s why she’s my best friend.
“You know Royce?”
She nods gingerly, her brown eyes suddenly alarmed. “Duh. Did you... don’t tell me...”
“He wanted Sytse’s gift,” I interrupt her. “I didn’t tell you, but Sytse brought me an LP. Because he loved the music on it, and he said I might have an opportunity to listen to it some day. And that opportunity knocked sooner than I could have dreamed. Royce Bolton wanted to buy it off me, but I refused.”
Dani giggles. “What? You refused the unofficial prince of Brandaris?”
“Well – yeah.” I shoot her a grin. “I told him where he could stuff his wallet. But then he suggested listening to it together instead, so we could share it. In secret.”
Dani’s bug-eyed stare makes me shift uncomfortably.
“You went to his house?” she squeaks.
“No, no.” My hand dismissively waves her anxiety away. “He owns a cottage in Stortum where he goes if he wants peace and quiet. He’s got an LP player there. So he invited me to go there and enjoy my present with him.”
Dani has turned pale. “He could have reported you,” she hisses. “The Baeles-Weards will arrest you for this.”
“Of course he’s not going to report me.” I roll my eyes. “Come on, he offered. If he rats on me, he’s going down with me. He’s not supposed to share electricity outside the Current community.”
“Okay.” Dani breathes out slowly. “That’s true. But holy Fosta – Enna, what did you guys do all evening? I mean, wasn’t it majorly awkward?”
“We just enjoyed the music,” I shrug. “It was magical. I can see where Royce gets his inspiration from. We didn’t talk much, but we talked some. About his family and mine, mainly. He’s not that bad once you get to know him.”
“But you’re not supposed to get to know him,” Dani says firmly. “A guy like that is going to hurt you sooner or later. You know what happened with me and Hank. Imagine what would happen if you and Royce – you know.”
“No, I don’t know,” I say grumpily. “We’re just music buddies. That’s all.”
Dani cocks her eyebrow skeptically. “Uhm, yeah. I can totally see how you can be platonic besties with a drop-dead gorgeous guy like that.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I get on my bike and point at the dyke. “We should go. If not we’ll be late.” Without waiting for her answer, I hit the pedals and take off.
“Hey, wait! Enna!” She follows me and catches up with me after a minute. “Don’t be upset. I just wanted to help.”
“If you want to be useful, you can help me memorize some German words now,” I say a bit snappily.
“Okay.” She shakes her head almost imperceptibly before droning: “Das Fenster. The window. Das Meer. The sea.”
By the time we get to school, the words are stuck in my head. I suspect I have a knack for German because I listen to Marlene Dietrich a lot. The words sound familiar – and of course they’re also similar to Skylgian.
“I’ll help you out if you get stuck,” Dani says under her breath as we both slip into our chairs at the front of the classroom. We already figured out a long time ago that these are the best seats for tests we haven’t studied for. Mrs. Atsma always paces around in the back of the room during tests because that’s where the slackers are. It pays off to have an impeccable track record.
One of our fellow pupils hands out the test papers, and silence descends in the room. Quietly, I try to concentrate on the words and sentences I need to write down, prompted by Dani every now and then when she sees me hesitate. I am done fairly quickly because I unfortunately don’t remember that much after all, so I use the extra time to slyly observe the other students in the room.
To my left is Alke. He’s a repeater – he failed his exams last year, and most teachers use him as an example whenever someone is found out not having done their homework assignments. “You want to end up like Alke?” they’ll say. It’s pretty mean. A good thing Alke doesn’t care that much. He goes his own way and doesn’t mingle with the other students much. He’s eighteen now, so he probably feels much too grown-up to hang with them. I dated him for a few months last school year after having been friends for ages, but we were still mostly just friends. I didn’t feel that kind of click with him.
Not like with Royce.
The unbidden thought makes me blush. What is wrong with me? I’m making stuff up because he’s hot, I know that. I mean, I didn’t exactly bond with Royce. I was angry with him half of the time we were talking. He’s so infuriatingly above all of us. So different from me.
The best thing would be to stand him up on Friday, but I know I’ll be back in Stortum. I can’t wait to listen to Jyoti again. Maybe I’ll even bring some of my own records so I can play them on that fancy turntable of his.
“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” Dani sighs when the bell rings and our teacher picks up the tests. “Come on, let’s hurry so I can grab a sandwich before second period. I kind of skipped breakfast.”
Fortunately, the canteen is still quiet at this hour. With a groan, I drop my bag onto the floor next to the counter, almost squishing Dani’s toe.
“Ouch!” she cries indignantly. “What the hell is in your bag? Bricks?”
“No, just books.”
“Ah. You got the Book of Brandan in there?”
I bite back a giggle. “No.” I edge closer and continue more quietly: “I found a book in Stortum this morning. Something ancient.”
Dani’s brown eyes light up with interest. “For real? Can I see?”
“Not her
e.” I watch as she shuffles forward to pay the kitchen lady for her food. “Maybe after school?”
“Count me in.” She takes a bite of sandwich and pulls me along to our next class.
The rest of the day goes by without any trouble. No pop quizzes, no angry teachers punishing me for sneaking out early yesterday. I pitch my Stortum idea to Mr. Buma and he loves it. I bet I can really milk it if I go for the ‘punished-by-being-flooded’ angle in my essay. I wouldn’t be surprised if I really found out that the people of Stortum weren’t the decent, Brandan-fearing people they were supposed to be.
I’m still thinking about Stortum by the time school’s out. If I’m not mistaken, the Skelta’s ancestors came from that settlement too. There might have been a rebel streak to the villagers – much like us Kinnumers aren’t so eager to please the Currents. Brandaris is actually the only place where Skylgers and Currents live side by side, and even that isn’t entirely true. The richest Brandarisian neighborhood isn’t even really part of the capital city and harbor. It is miles away, built upon the highest hill of the island, connected to the city center by the Longway running from south to north. I’ve been as far as Dead Men’s Caskets, the lake that marks the border between Lower and Upper Brandaris, but I’ve never ventured beyond. There’s nothing for me there.
“Are you okay?” Dani interrupts my musings. “You look so pensive.”
“I’m thinking about Stortum.”
“Yeah, about that.” She turns to me as we cycle away. “How did you find that book? Was it in Royce’s cottage? It looks like an antique.” She snuck a quick peek at it during lunch break.
“No.” I stop. Should I tell Dani about Sytse? Maybe I should wait until I’ve confronted him. If I ever scrounge up the courage to do that, even. It might be best to leave it alone for now. “After Royce left, I looked around in the village a bit longer and stumbled upon a house with lots of books and some weird, Current device on the table.”
“You think it belongs to Royce’s family too?”
“I don’t think so. If so he would have mentioned it.”
Dani cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? You really think he’s that open with you?”
“Well.” I shrug, but wince as I hunch my shoulders. “Ugh. This bag is killing me,” I grumble.
“Why don’t I take it for a while? You carried it on our way to school too, you poor darling,” Dani coos at me with a wink. Before I can protest, she stops her bike and motions for me to do the same. I feel a bit guilty when she grabs my bag and slings it over her shoulders, but not guilty enough to refuse. I smile at her.
“Thanks,” I say.
We ride on against the wind. It’s so strong it takes our breaths away, so we cycle back home in silence. It gives me time to think about possible reasons why Sytse would meet up with some mystery guy in a Stortumer cottage. Maybe he’s interested in the books on those shelves, but there’s an even better reason to come to Stortum – it must somehow be connected to the Grid. If not, Royce wouldn’t be able to make his electric appliances work in that village. Which means Sytse knows too much for his own good, and he’s playing with fire by using a Current device for Freda knows what.
8.
“How was school, sweetheart?” my dad inquires in his ever-gentle voice. “You need help with anything?”
“It was fine,” I reply. “I’m going to prepare for history class with Dani in my room, okay? But I’d really like it if you could help me with math homework after dinner.”
“Of course.” A pleased smile spreads across his face. My dad longs to feel useful around me and Sytse every day, and helping me with mathematics and calculus is one of the ways he can still feel like he matters.
“Great!” I look around. “What’s for dinner tonight?”
“Oh, Sytse is bringing home some fresh herring from the market,” Dad replies. “And he asked you to get some large potatoes and white bread from the grocery store in Baydunen. He left money on the counter.”
“Will do.” I quickly pour us three mugs of tea and put two on a tray to bring with me to my bedroom. I suddenly can’t wait to take a closer look at the ancient Skylgian book, and I’m happy I decided to share it with Dani. Two sets of eyes see more than one.
When I kick the door closed, Dani is already sitting on my bed and pulling out the heavy tome with eager hands. “Let’s see what this is all about,” she muses, opening the book and scanning the first page. “Wow, those ink drawings are quite something.”
I plop down beside her and we put the book on my lap. I’ve put the mugs of tea on the small table next to my bed. No way am I going to allow hot liquids anywhere near this volume.
“1623,” I mumble softly, my eyes lingering on the date underneath the biggest drawing. “Unbelievable. Is this a book from before St. Brandan landed on our shores?”
Everybody on the island knows he came here in 1666. The fleet brought the Holy Fire and the Baeles-Weards built the Brandaris Tower to safeguard Brandan’s Light, our only protection against the Nixen.
“Maybe it’s a reproduction?” Dani suggests. “The date on the title page says 1715. See?” She flips back and shows me.
“So it might be an anthology of old island lore.” I go back to the illustration dating back to 1623 and stare at the depicted scene. A violent storm rages over the island. The churning waves have capsized a schooner, and sailors are spilling out of the wreckage. It sends a chill down my spine when I spot a few Nixen in the waves, their tails glistening in the eerie light of – what? My eyes flash to the harbor in the background and widen. St. Brandan’s Tower is there, shining in the darkness. Except it can’t be Brandan’s Fire up there, because the Anglians weren’t even here yet, in 1623. How is it that the tower is already there?
“Enna,” Dani says with a tremor in her voice. “Do you see that?”
“You mean the tower?”
“No.” She points to the merfolk swimming around the drowning men in the sea. “Those mermaids – I don’t think they’re pulling them under.”
“What?” My voice shoots up an octave in disbelief. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it looks like...” Dani’s voice trails off uncertainly. “It’s almost as if they’re trying to save them.”
“That’s impossible.” I yank the book toward me and almost touch the page with my nose in an attempt to take a closer look. Under my scrutiny, the small, ink-drawn Sirens sadly don’t become any clearer. Dani could be right – but she could also be wrong. It’s very hard to tell. “Why would they save those men? You know the Nixen kill us. They tempt us out to sea and then they steal our souls and eat our flesh.” My voice cracks on the last word. I don’t want to think about what they did to my mother, but I can’t help it.
“I don’t know,” Dani admits helplessly. “But isn’t it true that the religion of old says the Nixen were once our friends and allies?”
“You mean before the sea spat us out?” I shake my head. “Well, if that’s true, what the hell went wrong for things to end up like this?”
“I don’t know,” my friend repeats. “But I intend to find out.”
“And that’s not the only thing that’s strange about this picture,” I pitch in. “Have you seen the tower in the distance? How can it be there, back in 1623?”
Dani gasps in surprise. “You’re right. What does that mean?”
It can only mean one thing. “It wasn’t made by the Baeles-Weards,” I whisper.
We turn the next few pages, looking for more pictures. We haven’t even gotten around to reading the text yet and already I am baffled beyond belief. This anthology is a treasure trove of secret information about the island, our history and origins. I wonder why it was stashed away in that old house in Stortum – and whether anybody is going to miss it soon.
We spend a full hour looking through the book. The tea has gotten cold on my nightstand by the time we find the oldest picture in the book – a reproduction of an old wood carving. I feel like I’ve ended up in s
ome mad fairytale. The image, dating from 1323, shows how people in traditional Skylger clothes are building the tower that we’ve always believed to belong to the Currents.
“We have to show this to the Skelta,” I mumble. “He’ll know what to do with this book.”
Dani bites her lip. “Well, shouldn’t we read the stories in it first and do more research?” she says, obviously reluctant to give it up so soon. To be honest, I’m not ready to part ways with this book either, but I want to do the right thing. The knowledge contained in these pages won’t do anybody on the island much good if we keep it hidden. On the other hand, that’s what Sytse was doing, too. I wonder how he’s involved in all of this.
“Maybe,” I mumble.
“Let’s give it one more afternoon, then. I’ll drop by tomorrow,” Dani offers. “We’ll contact the Skelta on Saturday when the Oorol Festival kicks off. He’ll be in Brandaris for his yearly speech.”
I open my mouth to agree, then shake my head. “Actually, I can’t meet up tomorrow. I’m seeing Royce.”
Dani shoots me a disbelieving glare. “Honestly? You’d choose a Current boy and his music over our historical research?”
“I already promised I’d be there,” I throw back.
My best friend raises her hands in exasperation. “Okay, fine. But please don’t take this away from me. Let me take the book home and read more on Friday afternoon while you’re cozying up with Prince Bolton. I’ll report back to you and we can go to the Skelta together on Saturday to tell him what we found out.”
“Sure.” I hand her the book and she stuffs it into her messenger bag. “But please be careful with it. We can’t lose it.”
“I’ll bring it back Friday evening, I promise. And I’ll let you know what I find out.”
With a pang of regret, I dig up my actual homework and try to focus on tomorrow’s assignment. I’d rather spend the rest of my time with the anthology, but I can’t – I have to keep up my grades for history and I still need to run errands for Dad.
That night, after eating dinner and doing my math homework with my father, I go outside for an evening stroll. The sun has already set and the May sky is peppered with bright stars glittering like precious stones. I take a deep breath and feel how the fresh air expands my lungs. Far away, in the distance, I hear the cry of a lonely seagull. Even further still, I can hear the incessant, alluring melody of the Nixen, like a faint memory of a whisper.
