Rat Song

Chapter 29

Father surged through the crowd with all the force of the Tantalus, his face red with rage.

"Heard you spoke with the doctor," he said, his breath reeking of ale. Fingers wrapped around William's wrist in an iron-tight grip, pressing so hard that his bones ached.

"He just wanted to wish me a pleasant feast," William said, silently cursing how weak his voice sounded.

"Folks are talking about you, boy." Father tugged on William's wrist so forcefully he stumbled forward. "I think it's high time you and I have a discussion of our own, man to man. Come."

Father dragged him through the crowd. "The boy's not feeling well," he said. "Needs some air."

The festivalgoers parted to let him through, casting William sympathetic glances. As quickly as their attention drifted to him, so too did it return to the bountiful food. If any thought it odd that William was being led so forcefully, they quickly dismissed it as a young lad who'd indulged a little too much in the ale that flowed as freely as the conversations surrounding them.

Only one pair of eyes lingered on them for more than a moment. Emma's chest rose and fell in quick gasps as her gaze darted from William to Father and back again.

He couldn't let her see what Father would do to him.

"I think I hear Mother calling me!" William yanked his hand back, only for Father to tighten his grip so hard he yelped and stumbled forward.

More eyes turned to them, then. Mrs. Norton paused with her knife poised over a piece of pie, the blade dripping crimson juice. Mr. Farnsworth muttered something to his wife, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

Father waved them off. "Nothing to see here. Boy's just had a bit more ale than he can handle." The instant everyone turned their attention elsewhere, he bent to growl in William's ear, "The sooner you come, the less this will hurt."

As he beheld the unbridled fury in Father's eyes, William knew with ice-cold certainty that was a lie. If he went with him, he'd feel the worst pain in his life. Then he would feel nothing, his body swept away by the Tantalus. Away from Hamelin. Away from Mother. Away from Emma.

No one would know the truth of what had happened to him. He'd wandered off, Father would say, leaving no trace behind save the footsteps that would soon be swallowed by the riverbank.

If he disappeared beneath the raging current, no one would be able to save Emma.

William ripped his hand out of Father's grip and ran away from the river. Away from his father shouting for him to stop. Away from the bewildered townsfolk staring at him as he raced through the festivities.

But he couldn't run fast enough. Father plowed through the crowd. His heavy breathing echoed in William's ears as he rapidly closed the gap between them. He lunged forward—

Light, airy notes filled the town square as the Piper pressed his flute to his lips. Father froze, his fingers an inch away from grabbing William's tunic. He slowly lowered his arm to his side, grimacing as if some unseen force was pushing it into position.

William stumbled to a stop, panting for breath as his heart thundered in his ears. Emma rushed to his side, her cheeks bright red from running. "Are you alright?" she asked.

A small squeak of protest passed her lips as William swept her into a hug. "I am now," he said breathlessly.

For a moment, William thought Emma might thrash free of his embrace. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed so tightly his back ached in protest.