The people of Hamelin were equal parts surprised and delighted when Aerzen's residents offered their aid. With more hands out in the fields, preparations for the Harvest Festival proceeded at a much faster pace. Mr. Farnsworth and the other farmers filled countless wheelbarrows with perfectly plump pumpkins, bright red apples, and enough oats to feed an army. The sweet scents of sugar and cinnamon emanated from the bakery as Mrs. Norton prepared plenty of pies, and children pranced through town wearing flower crowns and the brightest smiles William had seen on their faces since they came home.

But not everyone was excited about the festivities. William hummed the Hymn of the Whole to himself all morning, silently swearing whenever he missed a note. Despite the weeks he'd spent practicing with Burdock, the ability to control multiple creatures still eluded him. How could he hope to defeat the Piper when he could barely command anything more than a rabbit?

Father's mood did little to soothe his nerves. He lumbered out of the fields with a scowl branded onto his face as sweat rolled down his forehead in a glistening stream. Like many of the other adults in Hamelin, he'd been called upon to help with the harvest. When he wasn't laboring under the sun's blistering heat, Father was stuck mending farming tools until William half expected him to order the farmers to kneel in the soil and use their bare hands instead.

For once, Father was the least of William's worries. Now that the Harvest Festival had finally arrived, so too had the Piper.

The Piper was even more striking up close. His brightly colored cloak billowed around his tall frame, each of the individual patches blending seamlessly into a single unified whole. Whether he was waving to the gathered crowds or bending down so little Peter Farnsworth could whisper something in his ear, he flowed from one movement to the next with all the natural grace of a river.

As the church bells struck nine, all of Hamelin's citizens began filing into the place of worship so Pastor Abrams could deliver their thanks to the Lord before the official start of the festival. William lingered near the back of the crowd, observing the people of Aerzen as they milled about the square and stared blankly at the people entering the church. Only when the Piper played a quick tune on his flute did they fall into step behind him and file inside.

William sidled into his family's pew, taking his place between Father and Emma. She pressed herself close to Mother's side, as far from Father as possible. Yet, despite her nervousness, Emma still spared William a fleeting smile. Among the Piper's swarm, she alone showed him the faintest inkling of warmth.

The rest of those who were under the rats' control squirmed in their seats, their eyes darting around the church as if they would be attacked at a moment's notice. They all clustered together on the far side of the room, but try as they might, they could not avoid sharing pews with Hamelin's citizens. With everyone so tightly packed together, the air hung thick with their collective body heat and the scent of unease.

Pastor Abrams strode to his podium in the center of the church, with the Piper standing beside him. "Thank you all for coming, everyone," the pastor said. "We are gathered to give thanks to the Lord for everything with which He has blessed us."

"Praise be to the Lord," chorused Hamelin's citizens. The people of Aerzen stared at them blankly, their lips unmoving.

"We give thanks for the bountiful harvest. Just as He delivered us from the plague of vermin that devastated our fields years ago, He has once again blessed us so that we will not go hungry during the long winter."

"Praise be to the Lord."

"More than keeping us free from hunger, we thank the Lord for returning our children to us." Pastor Abrams paused to wipe a tear from his eye. "We believed them to be lost forever, but thanks to the Lord's mercy, families that were once broken have been made whole once again."

"Praise be to the Lord!" Parents hugged their children tightly, earning cries of protest.

William gave Emma's hand a gentle squeeze. Soon, he would free her so they could truly reunite.

"We should also give thanks to the people of Aerzen who have been kind enough to offer us their aid." Pastor Abrams smiled warmly at everyone gathered on the far side of the church. "It's thanks to them that we were able to harvest the Lord's bounty without letting any of it go to waste."

"It is us who should be thanking you," the Piper said. William heard him as clearly as if he was speaking straight into his ear, and his voice, Lord, his voice! The Piper's tone carried a musical lilt that made William hang onto his every word, and though he was but one man, he held all the power of a thousand voices.

"Our humble town has fallen upon hard times, so it is with immense gratitude that we accepted your offer to aid you in your harvest and receive a share of your crops in return. I do not believe mere words are sufficient to thank you for all you have done." Here the Piper paused, allowing his words to rest in the air for a moment. "With your permission, dear pastor, I would like to hold a performance for your congregation."

Pastor Abrams smiled warmly. "That won't be necessary. You sharing your love and kindness with us is thanks enough."

"Nonsense! Is Hamelin not long overdue for a celebration? In fact, I have an even better idea." The Piper cast his gaze over the crowd. William shuddered as piercing blue eyes as cold and powerful as the Tantalus met his gaze. "Now that the children have returned home, it is only fitting that one of them should join me in honoring the Lord with a song."

"That would be lovely, thank you," Pastor Abrams said. "If you'd like, I could set up the curtain we use during the Festival of Beginning. This is a different sort of celebration than we ordinarily use it for, but, as the Book of the Lord says, love is wonderful regardless of its form."

The Piper bowed deeply. "Thank you, dear pastor. I promise you will not be disappointed. Now, as to the matter of who shall perform alongside me," the Piper returned his gaze to the waiting crowd, "I propose a contest. The child who plays the most splendid song will join me in honoring the Lord."

The crowd's resounding applause left no room for debate.

William immediately knew he had to take part. Father be damned, he would pour everything he had into his music so he and Burdock would have an excuse to confront the Piper. This was his only chance. Emma's only chance.

"Thank you, everyone. You are all too kind. I look forward to hearing your children perform, but for now please turn your attention back to the dear pastor who was so kind as to invite us all here today." The Piper motioned toward Pastor Abrams.

"Yes, well..." The pastor cleared his throat. Without the Piper's voice filling the church, the air felt empty and stale. "Thank you very much for your generous offer. We'll prepare the church for your performance later, but for the time being, let us all partake in the Lord's bounty and enjoy the feast!"

The people of Aerzen were the first to leave the church, pushing and shoving each other in their haste to get outside. Meanwhile, Hamelin's residents set to work laying out the feast. Mrs. Norton's freshly baked pies bubbled with berry fillings, and Dr. Hughes's roasted chickens glistened with juices. Loaves of crusty bread accompanied Mother's humble yet hearty stew full of potatoes and parsnips. One of Mr. Farnsworth's largest hogs lay on a platter in the middle of the long table that had been set up in the town square, ready to be carved so that each person may receive their share of the tender, fatty flesh.

Without so much as offering a quick prayer to the Lord, the people of Aerzen descended upon the feast like the rats they truly were. Pushing aside unused utensils, they tore at the food with their bare hands and crammed it into their mouths. Anyone who dared to approach a platter while they were eating from it faced lips peeled back in a snarl, leaving Hamelin's residents to give their guests a wide berth.

"Best take what you can before those savages eat everything," Father grumbled. He marched into the sea of diners to claim his share of the feast, not heeding any of the glares that were thrown his way.

"I'm going to go make sure Emma gets some pie before it's all gone," Mother said. "Would you like me to get you a slice, too?"

"Blueberry pie would be nice, thank you." This could be the last meal William ever ate of his own accord, so he might as well indulge as best he could.

Yet, as much as he wished he could properly enjoy the Harvest Festival, William needed to focus on the task at hand. If he could deduce any weaknesses in the Piper's forces, he could exploit those vulnerabilities to turn some of his rats against him. There were so many that he could never hope to persuade them all, but he didn't have to. All he needed to do was weaken the Piper's control enough for the rats to come to their senses and restore the Whole to its former glory.

The Piper's followers were hostile not only toward the people of Hamelin but also to each other. There was no real sense of community, no sharing of the bounty before them. Instead, each individual sought to claim their own share of the feast, clawing and snapping their teeth at any who stood in their way regardless of where they were from.

Only the Piper himself received any consideration. The thickest slices of pie, cuts of meat so tender they fell off the bone, steaming bowls of stew filled with the ripest vegetables: all these and more were offered to him with simpering smiles and bows so low that heads nearly touched the ground.

The Piper accepted the offerings with gratitude, praising each one as if it was the finest food to ever appear before him. Yet, though he took more than enough to feed half a dozen of Hamelin's largest men, the Piper never shared a single mouthful with anyone else. He ate and ate and ate well past the point where William expected his stomach to burst like an overripe grape, yet he showed no signs of slowing down. Perhaps he could use that single-minded selfishness to—

"How's the feast treating you?"

William jumped with a yelp. Dr. Hughes held up with hands with a chuckle. "Take it easy, boy," the doctor said. "I'm not trying to scare you. I just wanted to see how you've been since we last spoke. How's your back? Looks like you've had a rough few days in the forge."

William winced, casting his gaze around the crowd. No sign of Father, praise the Lord. "It has been especially difficult lately, but I've been faring well enough."

"I would hope you're faring better than that." Dr. Hughes narrowed his eyes, his gaze lingering on William for a long, quiet moment. At last, he sighed. "I understand why you haven't visited me since we last spoke, but my offer still stands. If there is anything I can do to help you, please do not hesitate to tell me. I will do everything in my power to look after all my patients, regardless of what ails them."

"I have reason to believe things will get better soon," William said. His stomach churned at the half-truth. Though he hoped the Piper would no longer cast a shadow over his life, Father would remain. How could he keep Emma safe when danger lurked within their very home?

"I hope you're right," Dr. Hughes said softly. His smile didn't reach his eyes. "While I would love to linger, I'm afraid I must tend to my own body lest my stomach protest my inattention."

After bidding the doctor farewell, William attempted to resume watching the Piper, but the tall, lanky man was nowhere to be seen. No echo of his impossibly musical voice rose above the cacophony of cutlery, no trace of his long, flowing cloak flashed through the crowd in a burst of blended colors. When at last one man pushed through the crowd and captured his attention, it was not the Piper.

It was Father.