Rat Song

Chapter 24

The Tantalus thundered in William's ears. Try as it might, the river could do nothing to drown out his worries. Mother couldn't fool him. He knew how easy it was to come up with excuses for an injury. Father gripped his arm so tightly he left a bruise. He'd been rushing through the market and knocked into someone. Got caught limping? They'd needed to make more deliveries than usual around town.

While his work as a blacksmith's apprentice provided him ample excuses, Mother's work was far less laborious. The most she ever hurt herself was accidentally pricking a finger if something startled her while she was knitting. That was hardly the sort of injury that would make a hug merit a wince.

The only thing stopping William from naming who he suspected was the true cause of her pain was that doing so would mean acknowledging that he had failed. That all of his attempts to keep that horrible, unspeakable wrath from falling upon anyone but him and him alone had not been enough.

A discordant twang broke through his thoughts. The Hymn of the Whole dissipated like clouds driven away by the wind.

Burdock dropped the twig he'd been carrying. "That is the third time today, and we have not yet shaped a single letter."

"I'm well aware," William snapped. "Next time will be better."

"Your determination is admirable, but I believe a break is in order." Burdock yawned, exposing his yellowed teeth. "I was not expecting you to call upon me so early. Perhaps a brief rest will do us good."

William kicked a pebble, watching it disappear beneath the surface of the rushing river. "I've been resting all day. The last thing I need is to laze about while Emma needs me."

"Trying to force progress when you are distracted will not help her." Burdock cocked his head and twitched his whiskers. "Is something the matter? You have not been acting like yourself."

Acting like himself only ever brought him pain, and now it had gotten his mother hurt, too. "You wouldn't understand," William said as he tightened his grip on his guitar. "You're just a rat."

Burdock's fur bristled. "A rat I may be, but even I can see you will not make any progress continuing as you are."

William barked out a bitter laugh. "Why? Because I'm a failure at this, too?"

"Because you are upset." Burdock lashed his tail in frustration. "I do not know what is troubling you, but I cannot help if you do not tell me what's wrong."

Mother's pained wince flashed in William's mind. "Father has been especially harsh lately," he said. "He hates it whenever any of us has to see Dr. Hughes."

"What is a doctor?"

Despite everything, William chuckled. Burdock knew so much about his family that he sometimes forgot that some aspects of human life would be completely foreign to a rat. "A doctor is someone who cares for other people when they're hurt or sick. It's his job to help them feel better."

"I see," Burdock said. "So your father does not wish for you to see this doctor because they would realize he is the one who has been harming you."

"Yes." William rubbed the inside of his wrist. The bruises had faded, but the ghosts of the children's fingers still lingered in pale purple patches. "I think Dr. Hughes knows what Father has been doing to me. He never liked Father much, but the way he talked about him today..." He swallowed. "He wants me to get away from him if I can."

"That would indeed be wise, although I admire your devotion to keeping your sister safe. Be that as it may, there is one thing I do not understand." Burdock began pacing along the riverbank, freshly fallen leaves cracking faintly as his paws pressed them into the mud. "If he knows your father is harming you, why has he done nothing to stop him? The Whole would cast your father out at the very least, perhaps kill him since he has mistreated you so harshly."