The Hymn of the Whole surged through Aerzen. Countless townsfolk marched toward the source of the song. Merchants abandoned stalls filled with their wares, and guardsmen left their posts without a backward glance. Parents hoisted children into their arms lest they trail behind the rest of the crowd, and babies reached toward the music as if they could grasp it in their tiny fingers.

William quivered with the urge to follow them, to leave the alleyway and abandon his quest. There was no point resisting, the song whispered in his ear. Not when a lifetime of peace and contentment were within his grasp.

No. This wasn't why he'd come here. This wasn't what he wanted.

But he'd be free from his father, the song promised as its notes built into something larger than themselves. Something greater. He'd never have to worry about sneaking through his own home as if he was an intruder, never feel the burning tear of the belt buckle sinking into his flesh.

Would giving in really be so bad? Nettle cared for Emma as the other rats did for their children. Just as they would care for William if he only let them—

CRACK!

William cried out as Thomas's slap sent him sprawling across the ground. Thin-fingered hands clamped around his throat.

"Don't you dare follow them," Thomas hissed. His hands tightened their grip until black spots danced in William's vision. "I did not risk my life so you could betray me to the rats."

"Sorry," William wheezed. Burning. Everything was burning as he clawed at the fingers pressing against his throat. "I can't—"

The pressure stopped. Air rushed into William's lungs as he lay gasping, each breath filled with searing relief.

Thomas offered him his hand and eased him into a sitting position. "Couldn't risk you making me go with them," he said softly.

"It's alright," William said between gasps. "I would have done the same thing."

They sat in silence while they caught their breath. The rest of Aerzen continued their single-minded march toward the source of the song, with not a single person glancing toward their alleyway. The Hymn of the Whole teased at the edges of William's soul, its quickening tempo threatening to unspool his essence and shape him into someone else. Something else.

He'd almost let it.

"Thank you for saving me," he said. "Again."

Thomas cracked a small smile. "Think nothing of it. People like us have to look out for each other." His smile faltered, his eyes darting to the townsfolk leaving the market in search of the Hymn. "They won't notice if you leave now. You should go home."

Because he still had one. That thought stung William's eyes worse than the last wisps of smoke escaping the forge. "I can't leave yet. I still have to learn everything I can about the Piper so I can save my sister."

Thomas looked at him as if he'd proposed tilling the fields with his bare hands. "Please tell me you're not planning what I think you are."

"I need to get closer to the Piper so I can see how his song works," William said. "It's the only way I can save Emma."

"Why did I know you would say that?" Thomas heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm going with you."

"You don't have to—"

"Yes I do. Nobody else can make sure you don't lose yourself." Thomas's voice cracked as he looked away. "He has my family, too."

"I'll find a way to free them. I promise."

"You'd better." Thomas barked out a bitter, broken laugh before beckoning for William to follow him. "Come on, I know where we can listen to what the Piper says without anyone seeing us."

Thomas led William down a series of alleyways, twisting and turning through countless corridors until they came to the side of an abandoned church. The doors hung wide open as if the pastor would welcome his congregation inside at any moment, but not a single soul stirred in the house of the Lord. Holy books lay strewn across the floor with their torn pages stained by mildew, and stained glass fragments glinted in the sunlight piercing through the broken windows.

William bowed his head, blinking back tears. Simply looking upon such destruction felt sinful and wrong.

"We're not going inside," Thomas said, peeking into the abandoned building to make sure nothing lurked within. "It's just easier to get up here since nobody ever goes to church anymore."

"Up? Why would we—"

"Because it's easier to get a good view." Thomas sidled along the brick wall before coming to a stop by the far corner, sighing with relief. "Still here, praise the Lord. One of these days I swear those rats are going to chew through it."

A length of rope trailed down the side of the church, left frayed by frequent use. William gulped as his eyes traced it to the roof. "That'd be quite a fall."

"It's not so bad. The hard part's not screaming and getting everybody running." Thomas gave the rope a sharp tug. "I'll go first. Don't start until I get all the way up."

William didn't have to wait long. Thomas shimmied up the rope with the same nimble quickness he'd checked to make sure none of the guardsmen were coming after them. Before long, he waved for William to come up.

Despite his work in his father's forge granting him lean, powerful arms, William's muscles throbbed as he climbed after him. Hoisting his whole body up a rope was far different from hefting a hammer. By the time he finished his ascent, his palms burned, and sweat stung his eyes.

"The rest of the way's much easier," Thomas said. Not a single drop of sweat glistened on his forehead, and an easy smile played on his lips. "I don't have to watch my back so much here. Nobody ever bothers to look up."

Fortunately for William's aching muscles, Thomas was right. The rest of their journey merely involved jumping between Aerzen's closely packed buildings until they reached one of the rooftops near the town square.

Despite how long it had taken them to reach their destination unnoticed, they were far from the last people to arrive. The crowd swelled and surged as more and more townsfolk jostled to get closer to the podium in the center.

William leaned over the edge of the roof, only for a strong hand to pull him back. "That won't be necessary," Thomas said.

"But how are we going to hear what he says?" Though they could see the gathered crowd well enough, the townsfolk's conversations were nothing but an indistinct murmur.

"You'll see."

The high-pitched notes of the Hymn of the Whole washed over the square. As the music rose in volume, the people of Aerzen moved in time with the music. It couldn't be called dancing, not with their limbs twitching to and fro, but William ached to join them, to be part of something greater than himself. If he climbed down...

Thomas squeezed his arm. "Plug your ears. The worst part should be over soon."

William nodded and jammed his fingers into his ears. Muffled though the notes were, his body quivered with the urge to follow them. Only Thomas's firm grip kept him in place.

All at once, the crowd quieted, parting to make a clear path to the center of the square. A tall man in a billowing cloak strode to the podium with his head held high. While the rest of Aerzen's residents largely dressed in muted colors, the man's outfit blended reds, blues, greens, and countless other hues into a flowing tapestry that commanded the eyes as much as his music commanded the soul.

The flute pressed against his lips filled the air with promises of safety and contentment as the stragglers trailing behind him made their way into the audience. There was no mistaking the song that flowed from the instrument, nor the man who held it.

They'd found the Piper.

As soon as the Piper shifted the flute away from his lips, the crowd sighed as one. Far from the children's anger at William marring the Hymn with a foul note, Aerzen's citizens looked upon the Piper with nothing short of adoration.

"Blessed are we to have gathered here today and to have found great strength in each other." The Piper's voice carried over the crowd so clearly he may as well have been standing beside William. The rich timbre held all the power of a thousand voices speaking as one.

"Blessed are we, the Many," the crowd chorused.

"Since we arrived in Aerzen, we have achieved a greater level of prosperity than we have ever experienced before," the Piper continued. "We are no longer forced to scavenge for scraps. We walk wherever we please at all hours of the day without fear. We are free!"

The Piper's audience cheered. Thomas tensed beside William, his eyes firmly fixed near the front of the crowd. William followed his gaze to a couple who bore a striking resemblance to the boy beside him. Though the man shared Thomas's reed-thin build and the woman's hay-colored hair matched Thomas's, they moved with the same uncanny strangeness of everyone else in Aerzen.

William gave Thomas's hand a light squeeze, receiving a strained smile in return. They'd save them. They had to.

"Because we have been blessed with such great prosperity, our numbers have grown tenfold!" the Piper announced.

"Blessed are the Many," the crowd chorused, their faces stretched into wide smiles that bared too many teeth.

But though his audience rejoiced, the Piper pressed his lips into a thin line as he gripped the sides of the podium. "We are indeed blessed as our numbers to have grown, but, alas, our resources have not. We can survive on what we have now, but what of our children and our children's children? Do they not deserve to enjoy a bounty of their own?"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. William knew the fear that contorted their expressions all too well. The fear of months of fallow fields and empty bellies.

"We cannot condemn them to starve as we once did. We must act!" An elderly woman who William recognized as the weaver he'd spoken to earlier broke from the crowd, approaching the podium with her hands on her hips. "We have grown too complacent, too unwilling to strive for things to be better. Perhaps it is time for another to lead us."

Maroon flashed through the crowd as a pair of guardsmen moved to flank the woman. She didn't dignify their approach with so much as a glance, remaining firmly rooted in front of the podium even as whispers broke out behind her.

"At ease." The Piper held up a hand, the other inching toward the flute in his pocket. Heeding his command, the guardsmen backed away from the woman but stayed within a few paces of where she stood. "Your concerns are valid, Sage. We must seek greater sustenance if we are to care for our children. Fear not! Though our needs are increasing, I have a solution."

The Piper paused. His audience leaned forward as one, eager to hear his proposal.

"Remember the bountiful fields to the south?" the Piper asked, his voice as soft as a lullaby. "The sun ripening the pumpkins swelling on their vines? Those warm, juicy blackberries growing along the riverbank, so plump they'd burst at the slightest touch? The crunch of the carrots we pulled free from the earth?"

William's stomach growled at the thought of the harvest that was soon to come. So too did the townsfolk mutter their praises of the delicious crops they'd devoured. They ground their teeth together with such enthusiasm that the steady scraping echoed through the town square.

"Soon we shall savor such a feast once again!"

William winced as the crowd roared their approval. He'd seen firsthand the devastation rats could wreak upon the fields. When rats had swarmed Hamelin, they'd left behind nothing save a long, hungry winter.

The Piper raised his flute to his lips, quieting the crowd with a light, airy tune. "At ease, my wonderful Many. Though we are as strong as we are numerous, it is not yet time for us to act."

"Would you have us wait until winter?" the weaver cried out.

Others echoed her protest. Though they were few, their words drew worried glances as the rest of Aerzen looked to the Piper for his answer.

"Fear not, for we shall not have to wait long. Once the crops ripen and the people of Hamelin harvest their bounty, we will reunite with our brothers and sisters and take what we deserve!"

Chills raced down William's back as the crowd roared with excitement. Not only had the rats stolen Hamelin's children, but they were planning to take over the whole town. Hamelin was nothing but a small farming community. They hadn't even been able to exterminate the first rat infestation all those years ago. With all of Aerzen and Hamelin's own children against them, they didn't stand a chance.