The swarm of rats receded. No trace remained of Reverend Smith, Louisa, Carl, or Bob. Not even a drop of blood on the floor where they once stood. A few scraps remained of Louisa's pretty dress. The rats ate most of that too. The rats wasted no time staying in the building. They each returned from where they came.

  Save for one. Trashwater stood still in the entrance to the chapel, his black eyes regarded Sam. She could not interpret the expression on his little face. She suspected that were he human, she would also not be able to understand the complex emotions he must have been experiencing.

  "Human, dost thou know the story of the rats of Hamelin?"

  "No," said Sam.

  "The story thou knowest is about a Piper. As if he were the hero. How he came and played his flute and the rats, entranced, were drawn from the city. Thus did he rid the city of vermin. But, when the time came to pay for his service, the townsfolk refused.

  "So he played his flute once more. This time he led the children of the town away, never to be seen again. Thus did he take his revenge.

  "This account is ridiculous. The problem with this story is that it is a falsehood. I shall tell thee the truth.

  "Once, long ago, an ambitious human sorcerer longed for riches, so he with all his sorcery and magic contracted with a great power. This being gave unto him a gift: a flute whose music would charm children.

  "The sorcerer came into the city of Hamelin pretending to be a bard. He played his flute, and the children were enraptured. They danced and cavorted to the Piper’s music. He led them through the town on a merry march, then he led them from the town to a dark cavern. Over one hundred children went with the Piper.

  "In the cavern he offered up the children to his master, who had promised him even more power were he to bring all the town's children. And this, he did.

  "The Spirit of Hamelin was heartbroken at the crime. The beloved children were stolen. Sorrow filled the city’s streets. Hamelin had no champion. No soldiers came. The cries of the parents reached not the ears of their king. No one who searched could find the children. The Spirit turned to the only purveyors of justice available.

  "We rats.

  "Long ago, since we crawled from the depths of history, no creature hath been more just than the rats. The Spirit of Hamelin knew of our nobility and bade us to find the children, or the Piper.

  "We do not concern ourselves with the goings-on of other beasts of the earth, nor of the sky, nor of the sea. Ye humans, however, have been a singular exception. We gain much from living close to thee. It is in our best interest to pay attention to thy customs and thy ways such that we thrive along with thee. All through history we have been with thee: in thy granaries, upon thy ships, hidden, whilst thou explorest the wide world.

  "Thus did the Spirit of Hamelin bid us to seek justice for the crime. We rats as one gathered where we smelt the children. There we found the sorcerer in his putrid endeavor. We arrived just in time, for though he had sacrificed many, he had not gained much. We fell upon him, devouring.

  "And justice was served.

  "Since that time, the spirits of the cities all around have employed rats as their emissaries, and in times of great need, as the enforcers of their justice.

  "Thy bards and thy storytellers have confused the events of the Piper of Hamelin, but we rats remember all. We remember back to the dawn of history.

  "I tell thee this version of the truth because thou hast witnessed our justice. Thou dost exist in the service of the Spirit of the City, as we do.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "Wilt thou do me a service, human? I wish to gather up the body of my brother and return him to the embrace of the Spirit, where she doth dwell."

  Sam considered his request. She owed the rat her life. She nodded.

  "First, I have to get Missy somewhere safe," she told him. "Then we can bring your brother back home."

  They retrieved Curbdirt's body and made their way from the Reverend's home. The property lay on the outskirts of the city where the houses still had lawns and trees. Most of the buildings were laid to ruin, overgrown from centuries of neglect. Sam didn't know what would happen to the place now that Reverend Smith was gone.

  They returned to Sam's office. She didn't want to leave the little girl alone. Missy had fallen silent since the rat swarm. The girl neither spoke nor cried. She showed no signs of emotion at all. Sam would worry after the girl later.

  For now, she reunited the child with her dog Rex. Since drinking the Elixir of Life, Rex looked healthy. Her eyes lost the milky white of death. Her once matted fur had sprung up shining and healthy. Her nose was even wet.

  Rex had not shown much emotion herself since returning to Sam's apartment. Sam worried the dog's soul had been lost in whatever dark process they used to resurrect her. But when the dog saw Missy, she sprang up on her paws, barked, and wagged the little stump of her tail. Missy, to her credit, smiled, threw her arms around the dog's neck, and sobbed softly into the dog's warm fur.

  Sam gave Missy whatever food she had. She wanted to drink herself to sleep and stay there for a week. But drinking didn’t work anymore. So she left with Trashwater in one pocket of a spare overcoat and the body of his brother, Curbdirt, in the other. They arrived at the city dump long before sunrise.

  In the dump’s circular clearing the Spirit of the City once again sculpted itself out of nearby refuse. Pieces of trash flew through the sky as if caught on a breeze. Sam was relieved to see the Spirit again because it was less likely to be a hallucination if it kept happening.

  "Samantha, you have performed a service for me," the Spirit said after she finished forming herself. She held up another gold coin.

  "Hang on, Spirit. I wonder how powerful you are." She held up Curbdirt’s lifeless body. "This little rat died protecting me. I would trade that gold coin for you to restore him."

  The dead rat's brother turned and stared at Sam but said nothing. The Spirit of the City looked down at the little rat.

  "Samantha, I wonder if you know what you’re asking. Rats live very short lives; you would be trading much to restore very little. They are honorable creatures and do not view the sacrifice of their lives the way you do.

  "I appreciate that you want…"

  "Now hold on there, Spirit," Sam interrupted. "If it’s within you to do it, this is the fee for my service."

  It was Trashwater's turn to interrupt.

  "Wouldst thou truly trade thy reward for my brother?" said the rat. His voice was neutral.

  "The way I see it," replied Sam, "I'm not the one should be paid. All I did was get captured, fail, then need to be rescued. I’d pay gold to settle my debt."

  Trashwater considered her words for a moment.

  "I do appreciate what thou dost wish to do," he said. "But such would dishonor my brother's sacrifice. It would dishonor his faith in the Great Mother choosing thee. I will remember, though, what thou hast attempted to do, and look upon thee more fondly."

  "If you say so. Means I still owe you."

  "Thou dost."

  Then, to the Spirit of the City, she said, "I'll take that coin."

  The great big house that once belonged to Reverend Smith sat empty. Sam knew the former owner wasn’t coming back. She’d seen the rats eat him a few weeks before. The place was in a sorry state.

  Missy’s mother died there, too. The young girl was in better spirits after some food and a little time with her dog. Sam hadn’t told her about what Rex had been through. She decided it was best to leave out some details.

  She did take the girl’s silver coin, though. Nobody should work for free.

  It’d cost Sam two gold coins. One to bribe a city worker and put Sam’s name to the deed. She also got the deeds for half the rowhome slums in her neighborhood. Anything that belonged to Reverend Smith was now hers. She considered it spoils of war. She planned to give the houses to the families that lived in them. She figured it would go a long way towards getting folks in the neighborhood to like her.

  The other gold coin was spent on hiring enough workers to restore the Reverend’s ruined house. The place was large. It’d be beautiful when they were done fixing it up.

  Sam never wanted children. She wasn’t the type. The military had ways to ensure female soldiers couldn’t get pregnant and they’d used them on her. But she also wasn’t the type to leave a child in the clutches of the local churches and their orphanages.

  Sam would get the house fixed up. Missy would live there with Rex. She didn’t like any other options for the girl. She figured it was payback for the abuse she’d suffered and how Sam was, in a roundabout way, responsible for her mother being eaten.

  And Rex needed a yard, mostly because Sam didn’t want to have to clean up dog shit.