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(Continued)
"I want my
money."
Mayor Tommer looked
up, surprised to see Piper standing before him when he himself had
only just gotten into his office. But the gangly man was there,
dressed in his beat-up coat and bizarre hat. The Mayor let out an
impatient sigh—he’d already given him a hundred gold. How much
would he need to pay this man before he would start his job?
"You need to
get rid of the rats first," he pointed out dryly.
"I did. This
morning."
He laughed; a crisp
crackle of dried leaves. "From one house, perhaps. Not from
the entire town."
"Every house.
Every building. Every place a rat could possibly hide is free from
rats. Now, Mayor, I want my money."
"I don’t
believe you. Give me some proof that all of the rats are gone, and
I’ll consider giving you your money."
"Consider?"
Fury radiated from his rival. "Consider paying? Mayor,
I don’t think you understand. We had an agreement. You will pay
me."
"I’ll
consider whatever I want to! Now go and get rid of some rats and
I’ll talk to you later."
Piper’s rage
disappeared so suddenly that it was scary. "Are you going to
pay me today, Mayor?"
"No. Tomorrow,
perhaps, when I have proof that all of the rats are gone."
"I see."
And with a clack of the beaded strings that decorated his hat, he
was gone.
***
A song—strangely
similar to the ones that had drifted through the town at dawn that
day and again shortly after—began after Elly woke up to Piper's
music for the second time that day. Much to her disappointment, he
had reclaimed his hat and coat after singing his song to the sun,
which was now high enough to pour its light through her window.
The house seemed strangely silent, without the tiny footsteps and
squeaks that were a part of her life. As though… as though the
rats were gone. She looked around with wonder. Could it be true?
Was that why Piper had come? To get rid of the rats, so that her
family and friends would be safe?
She jumped up and
began to dress quickly, because the song was getting louder. Piper
was calling her out to play. All of the children could come. And
they would have a wonderful time, and maybe he would let her wear
his hat again. That was an offer that couldn’t be refused. So
she ran down the stairs, not even calling to her mother to let her
know where she was going.
So she joined the
swarm of children that followed Piper much like the rats had
followed him two hours before.
***
"I want my
money."
Tommer slammed his
fist down furiously when he saw the tall, gangly man standing
before him again. The traitor! Coming and demanding payment for
getting rid of rats, when all he had done was kidnap the children!
How could he even think that Tommer would give him money?
Trembling like a leaf in the wind with fury, he snapped, "No.
You kidnapped the children. Bring them back, get rid of the rats,
and then I will pay you. If I don’t have you declared an
outlaw!"
"I want my
money." The man’s eyes were hidden beneath the brim of his
hat, but the tight set of his mouth revealed his anger. That and
his voice—no longer like the smooth new leaves of spring, but
the sharp crack of the nearby river beginning to melt. "Pay
me, Mayor, and I will bring your children back. I have already
gotten rid of the rats."
Of course, the
mayor thought, wanting to shout his anger. In two hours, he had
gotten rid of every rat in town. Even the most skilled of ratters
took at least a week to clear a section of the average town, and
his town was plagued by rats. Liar. So he told Piper as much.
"You won’t
pay me?"
"No!"
"I see."
His beads clacked against one another as he turned to leave once
more, but this time the sound was far more ominous, like the
clacking of bone. And he brought his pipe up to his lips, bronze
flashing in the sunlight that poured in through the window, and
began to play a strange, haunting tune as he walked from the
office.
Chelsea Chandelay
stormed into his office seconds later. "Do you know why my
girl is gone, Tommer? Because you wouldn’t pay the man who got
rid of the rats! You were too damned stubborn, too damned blind to
realize that maybe he knew what he was doing! And now my daughter
is gone, and it’s all your fault, you—"
She fell silent as
Piper’s haunting tune slipped into the room. She smiled when she
heard it, turned and walked away as though she had never spoken to
the Mayor in the first place. Simply left. And the song played on.
***
It was days later
before Piper returned, days in which Mayor Tommer wandered the
town, searching for someone, anyone. But they were all gone, from
the youngest of children to the oldest of the elders. Even the
rats were gone. The birds didn’t come to sing, and the crickets
didn’t chirp in the heat. He wandered through the town,
completely, totally alone, a dried up leaf of a man rattling
through the husk of a town.
He was sitting in
his office once more when a familiar clack of beads made him look
up to see Piper standing before him, dark and angry. "I want
my money."
"I have no way
to get money now! All the people are gone, and if I pay you, there
will be no way to give them what they lost."
"And yet you
hired me."
"I would have
been able to pay it if you hadn't taken them all away!"
"I want my
money, Mayor."
"I won’t
give it to you!" he shouted, standing as tall as he could.
A strange
expression crossed Piper’s face, and he reached up to touch the
brim of his hat. With a smooth gesture, he pulled it from his head
and placed it on the Mayor’s desk, revealing a pair of very
dark, very green eyes. "As you wish, Mayor." He brought
his pipe to his lips and played a heavy, dark note. Then another.
And another, staring at him through those very dark, very green
eyes all the while. Stared until all the Mayor could see were
those eyes. Until all he could see was darkness. And then nothing
at all.
Piper donned his
hat once more and left, the clacking sound his beads made now
muffled. He didn’t look back, didn’t even pause. Simply left.
He had others to take care of now.
So
no one else saw the dried up husk of a man in the dried up husk of
the town that was once Hamelin.
SAMANTHA RAE, a native of Mississauga, Ontario, was the child who was content to prove to her teachers that one could indeed read too much. Still happily addicted to the written
word—fantasy above all—she spends most of her time working on her current trilogy, planning out the next, or simply watching the entertaining antics of her budgie. She hopes that her schoolwork this coming year won’t detract too much time from her writing.
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