Rat Song

Chapter 13

A night's rest did little to ease William's throbbing back. No matter which position he lay in, his muscles ached in time with his heartbeat. Each time he managed to drift into a fitful sleep, nightmares filled with rats and Father's belt biting his flesh sent him jolting awake gasping for breath.

As the sun's rays sliced through the window, William dragged himself into the kitchen with his eyes downcast. On days after Father disciplined him, it was best to look sufficiently chastened. Head bowed, feet shuffling, gaze firmly fixed on his feet. Once he finally reached the dining table. William eased himself into his seat, suppressing a wince as his still-healing cuts pressed against the back of the chair.

"Good of you to join us," Father said with a scowl. He showed no hint of weariness despite lashing William's back bloody the evening before. "We were just discussing your sister's first day back at school."

"I can't wait to see Peter and Matthew again," Emma said. "Mrs. Ward said she's going to let us go pick flowers after we practice our letters today."

"I wish you wouldn't spend time with that that Cunningham boy," Father grumbled. "Always had sticky fingers, that one. He may only pilfer candies now, but mark my words, it won't be long before he starts targeting coin purses."

"I'm just glad the children seem to be settling in," Mother said. She'd taken her time braiding Emma's hair even more carefully than usual this morning, tying it off with a blue ribbon the same color as her eyes. "Now that everyone's had more time to get used to being home again, hopefully things will be able to start going back to normal."

"Should see more business at the forge, at least," Father said. "Folks have already been asking for spare horseshoes for their children to play with. It's a waste of metal, but as long as I get paid, that's fine by me."

William silently chewed on his share of their morning bread. Relieved though he was to have the children home, his fear of the creatures that had stolen their bodies outweighed any happiness he might have felt. With only Mrs. Ward minding the children while they attended school, the rats would be largely free to conspire amongst themselves. Not for the first time, William wished he was not of the age where he was expected to apprentice under his father rather than attending school. Although the children now posed a danger to him much like his father did, he'd gladly assume the risk of spending all day at school with them if that meant he could watch over Emma as best he could.

Now that he knew what lurked inside her, William questioned Emma's every action. Was the way she devoured her bread without leaving a single crumb behind the desperate hunger of a child who had not eaten a proper meal in a year or the frenzied feasting of a rat with uninhibited access to food? Were her darting eyes reacquainting themselves with the home she had been born in, or were they searching for cracks in the walls in case the rat needed to make a hasty retreat? How much of his sister remained, and how much had been swallowed by the rodent squirming inside her stomach?

Father cleared his throat.

William jolted, nearly dropping his last morsel of bread. "Sorry, I was thinking about something."

"I'm sure you were," Father said. "Listen, boy. I've been doing some thinking of my own, and I want to apologize to you."

"You do?" Father never apologized for anything. Not when he arrived home reeking of ale after spending hours at the tavern. Not when he'd broken Mother's only jewelry, a delicate silver necklace she'd inherited from her grandmother. Never.

"I was too harsh with you yesterday," Father said. "Sometimes I forget you're little more than a child yourself, still too young to realize how foolish you can be."