Rat Song

Chapter 6

William tiptoed down the hallway until he reached his sister's room. Even from the outside, there was no doubt the room was hers. The door bore shallow nicks her mother had cut into the wood to track her growth, and the faint smell of dandelions still lingered outside. Though the room's owner had been absent for quite some time, Emma had still left her mark on it the same way she'd left a gaping hole in William's heart.

Even now, William couldn't face her door without his throat tightening. He knew how it felt to seek solitude when something was troubling him, although he'd long since forgone cornering himself in his room in favor of slipping away to the banks of the Tantalus. Even that mighty river could only provide him a temporary escape from his father, but a brief respite was better than none at all.

Someday he'd teach Emma how to climb out of her window unnoticed and how to erase her footsteps from the muddy banks. For now, he had no choice but to bring her to the very person he longed to avoid.

William tapped his knuckle against the door. "Is everything alright?"

"Go away!" Emma's voice pierced through the worn wood without an ounce of hesitation.

William winced. Thank goodness he was the one fetching Emma rather than Mother. If she'd heard Emma yell to be left alone after being gone for so long, it would have broken her heart. As it was, her words hurt him far more than Father's ever could.

"I'm sorry Baron scared you," he said softly. "I had no idea he'd act like that."

Something rustled on the other side of the door. Something faint like the shushing of skirts brushing against each other or the breeze sneaking through the window. Whatever it was, at least Emma didn't tell him to leave this time. She was listening.

"Mother and Father missed you at supper today," he began again. "I saved some bear bread from the celebration. If you come to the table, I'll give you every piece I've got."

Normally the promise of Mrs. Norton's famous bear bread would be enough to make Emma run out of her room, but not tonight. All he received in response was the faintest of whispers, so quiet he couldn't make out a word of what she said.

The sound of Mother pouring yet another tankard of ale echoed from the kitchen. At this rate, Father would be well and truly drunk by the time William returned to the table.

His temper always flared once he'd had plenty to drink.

"You really ought to come out," William said, struggling to keep his voice calm as his heart quickened and sweat broke out on his forehead. "Father doesn't like to be kept waiting."

There was no response. She wouldn't come out unless he made her.

William gripped the doorknob with trembling fingers. The door's rusty hinges squeaked as he eased it open.

Emma turned to face him with the brightest smile he'd seen from her since she came home. Her lips parted as her eyes brightened with joy.

A high-pitched squeak pierced the air. William's muscles tensed, fully prepared to kick any rat that dared to show its whiskers. A swarm of those pests had ravaged Hamelin years ago, leaving the town to ration the meager remains of their harvest in order to survive the winter. The lean months had left fields decimated, stomachs empty, and tempers short.

If even one of those creatures dared to venture into town, more were bound to follow. Who knew how many could be feasting in the fields already, robbing them of their harvest once again?