William followed the Piper into the empty church with nothing to protect him but the guitar strapped across his back. The heavy wooden doors shut behind them with a deafening boom. Pastor Abrams had already moved his podium to the far side of the church and set up a thick, dark curtain blocking the pulpit from the rest of the church, leaving the two of them ample privacy to prepare for their performance even if any audience members took their seats early.

If William had his way, there wouldn't be a performance at all.

"I'm fully aware you know what I've been planning," the Piper said.

William's hand flew to his guitar. He'd been hoping to catch the Piper off guard, but if he acted fast—

The Piper held up his hand. "That won't be necessary, young man. At least, I certainly hope not. Now that we're alone, I would like to have a word with you."

"Why should I trust you?" William tightened his hold on his guitar. He briefly considered striking the Piper with it, but in the time it took him to swing it, the Piper could grab his flute and begin playing the Hymn of the Whole, to say nothing of how the people of Aerzen would react if he harmed their leader before Burdock could weaken his hold on them.

"Fair question." The Piper extracted his flute from his pocket, careful to keep the instrument away from his face. "The three of us should talk, and I am willing to set aside my instrument if you do the same."

"What do you mean the three of us?" They were the only people inside the church.

"Ah, yes, I suppose I should tell him to come out of hiding." The Piper cast his gaze to the rafters above them. "Burdock, be a dear and join us, would you?"

Burdock slunk from the shadows with his whiskers quivering and his hackles raised. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the worn wood, not looking at either of them. "Put down your guitar, William," he said quietly. "There are some things you need to hear."

"But he's controlling the children, and you said he corrupted the Whole. Why should we listen to a word he says?"

The Piper laughed, a discordant, joyless sound. "Is that what you told him? Clever Burdock. You always were one for spinning tales."

William waited for Burdock to protest, only for the rat to remain silent. His throat tightened as a heavy dread settled in his gut. Burdock had been hiding something from him. Perhaps he hadn't even attempted to stir up dissent among the Piper's rats as they'd planned.

But then why would Burdock teach him the Hymn to begin with? Why would he trust him enough to allow him to control his body?

If Burdock could trust William enough to fully submit himself to his control, he could trust Burdock long enough to learn what the Piper wanted to tell him. But he would only do so on his own terms. "We must both keep our instruments out of reach, and if either of us tries to take up our instrument before the other, Burdock will keep us from doing so. Swear it upon the Hymn."

"Very well. I swear upon the Hymn that if I try to reclaim my flute before we mutually agree to take up our instruments, Burdock may gnaw my fingers off so that I can never play again."

Once both of them placed their instruments on the floor of the church, the Piper pulled his cloak tighter around himself and fixed William with a steely gaze. "Now then, I'm sure you are curious why I have amassed so many rats under my control and bound them to human souls."

"What's there to be curious about?" William asked. "Many would kill to have the amount of power you have. The rats follow your orders without question, and they can do far more by controlling a human's body than they would ever be able to do on their own."

"Ah, but there is more to it than that," the Piper said. "After all, rats alone can easily overpower humans through sheer numbers. Do you remember how the farmers couldn't see the fields through the swarms of rats devouring all that was in their path?"

William shuddered. He could never forget such horrible destruction and the long, hungry winter that followed. "You caused that, didn't you?"

The Piper's face split into a sharp grin. "Rats are wonderfully clever creatures, but they do require plentiful sustenance. I could not allow my loyal followers to go hungry."

"Then what do you need the children for?" William balled his hands into fists at his sides. "You already control all of Aerzen. Is that not enough?"

"I'll tell you about Aerzen in a moment, but as for Hamelin's children, I needed to test you to ensure you are truly as compassionate and musically skilled as I suspected. You resisted my music solely because you did not wish to abandon your family, and I knew I would need someone like you for my plans to succeed."

"What plans?" William asked. The more he learned of the Piper, the less he understood him. Why did he insist on keeping him alive when the other rats mistrusted him?

"Perhaps Burdock would like to enlighten you."

The rat pressed his ears to the back of his head. "My reasons for becoming close to you were at first selfish," he admitted quietly. "Please forgive me."

"What do you mean?"

"I..." Burdock fell silent, his whiskers twitching.

"Before I sent him to Hamelin, I tasked Burdock with one simple goal," the Piper said. "If he found a young human with a selfless heart and musical talents beyond compare, then I would reward him by integrating him into the Whole."

"But he told me you tainted the Whole," William said. According to Burdock, the Many was all that remained of that once harmonious community of rats, now nothing but a vicious army loyal to no one save the Piper.

"The truth is not something you would have believed unless you saw it yourself." Burdock bared his teeth at the Piper. "Enough of this deceit. Show him."

"Very well." The Piper removed his cloak with a flourish. Without the flowing fabric shielding his body from view, his swollen abdomen constantly pulsed and writhed. This was not like the children whose rats could only be perceived if they squirmed while someone was touching their host. No, this was an infestation that stretched the skin to accommodate the constant wriggling hidden beneath the surface.

"What are you?" William whispered, his own stomach quivering with utter terror. How many rats were inside the Piper? How had he survived so long when the creatures had left him with so little room inside his own body?

"We are the Whole," the Piper said. "Countless generations ago, we were few bound together by our tails and our desperate hunger. Now we act as one for the good of the Many. We give them freedom from hunger and fear, and so shall we bestow that upon you should you accept our offer."

This must have been why the Whole had decided to speak to him instead of merely seizing control of him or killing him the instant they had him alone. "What offer?"

"Before I tell you, I must first recount how I came to be in this body." The Whole sighed with such great weariness that William nearly echoed the sound. "Decades ago, the Piper was but a boy named Samuel. He was a mere year or so older than you, and while most humans think little of the passing years, his carried all the weight of a thousand eternities for much the same reason yours do."

William's hand instinctively went to his wrist, darkened to a dusky purple thanks to Father's iron grip. The bruise throbbed in time with his heartbeat, quickening with each word the Piper spoke.

"He sought to escape by any means necessary. When we found him, he lay in agony with deadly nightshade on his lips as his body clung to what remained of his life." Here the Whole paused, their voice softening. "He no longer wished to use his body. We took what he cast aside, but we were not able to mend all the damage the poison caused. For us to continue to lead the Many, we must bind ourselves to a new soul before this body dies."

Despite the strength that remained in the Piper's voice, William saw the cracks in the shell the Whole inhabited. Samuel's skin displayed a deathly pallor, and his body swayed as the Whole shifted inside him. Only through the Whole's collective strength and determination did what was left of him remain standing.

A pang of pity struck William. This man had been under the Whole's control for decades, longer than he'd led his own life. His true self was long gone, lost to the Whole.

"Why should I let you use me?" he asked. "You already have so many under your control, and from what I saw in Aerzen, they are far from happy."

The Whole hissed, baring the Piper's teeth in a snarl. "They will be satisfied once we have integrated them into Hamelin and made its bountiful crops our own. As for what you have to gain..." He nodded toward Burdock. "We have been told you hold your sister dear to your heart, even more so than your own life. Should you forfeit your body to us, we will unbind Nettle from your sister's soul so that her life will be entirely her own."

William sank his teeth into his lip. All he'd wanted was for Emma to be safe. "And what of the other children and the people of Aerzen? Will you free them as well?"

The air hissed with a thousand whispers as the Whole debated his offer. "We shall loosen the bonds between their souls. Should the humans wish to expel the rats, they shall, but should they desire a life free from misery and pain, then we will not deny them that choice. The Many will not be pleased to forfeit so much of what we have gained, but there will always be more humans who wish to escape their sorrows."

Everyone would be safe. All William would need to do was give himself up, and...

And what? What would become of him under the Whole's control? He had already lived his life struggling to avoid the burn of Father's belt. If he forfeited his body to the Whole, he would no longer live in fear, but neither would he ever experience the joy of hugging his sister or playing his own songs. No, such an existence devoid of all pleasure as well as pain would not be life at all but merely a slow, empty death.

"I refuse."

The Piper blinked, his expression completely blank as his abdomen twitched. "You would doom them to a life under my control all in a selfish attempt to retain your freedom?"

"It is not selfish to value the individual as well as the many," William said, glancing at Burdock. "And it is not merely my freedom I want to protect. I have seen what your music can do to all who hear it. As long as you can still play the Hymn of the Whole, then no one will ever be truly free from your influence."

"Very well." The Piper smiled as bells rang above them. Though the curtain blocked the rest of the church from their view, the deafening creak of the doors and the chatter filling the church told them everyone had come inside from the feast. "Time for our song, young man. Let's give them the performance of a lifetime!"