A Piper's Song: The Pied Piper Tales

by C. K. Johnson

  The day after, he started teaching me the piper’s version of music’s history.

  For the first time, I really started to understand why the piper’s song was so dangerous. Music could cross barriers nothing else could. It was the great equalizer, and we were its master. When used incorrectly, we could do some serious damage. I wanted to know the extent and the specifics of what it could do, but McKennan skillfully skirted around answering. When pressed, he’d just refer back to Mark, who still wasn’t the same.

  I stood bored to death in the living room of our apartment, singing scales, hoping McKennan would allow me to break out in an actual song, when someone knocked tentatively on the front door. Please let it be Maggie.

  She was really starting to grow on me. It didn’t matter if she came to see Kelly, she would still stop and talk to Conner and me, and invite us to watch movies with them. I loved that she’d stick up for me when Kelly teased me.

  I swung the door open, about to ask her for help with Thanksgiving, when I stopped. Ben shoved his hands deep in his pocket and grinned. How do you know where I live?

  “Hey, one of your brothers told me to come over. Practically ordered me, to be honest. He said you needed help with one of your lessons. So I came, because of you needing my help, not because he ordered me.” He shut his mouth, stopping the rambling.

  I stood stock still, trying to guess what in the world they had been thinking. Finally, I realized we had been standing there for a while and I had failed to invite him in. I hadn’t even spoke.

  I pointed to the couch and yelled, “McKennan, get your rear end in here right now.” I flashed what I hoped looked like an apologetic smile at Ben. It couldn’t cover how stupid I felt about McKennan ordering him over here.

  He came in, saw Ben, and grinned. I glared at McKennan, but that only made his grin spread further.

  “You said you wanted to try a song today. So you can, if you can do it in front of him,” McKennan said with as close to a mischievous smile as I had ever seen on him. He settled down on our beat-up old recliner and folded his arms.

  “Are you crazy? What if,” I started but didn’t finish. I wanted to say what if I zombify him, but as he was in the room—and watching my brother and me converse intently—I felt it best not to put it quite like that. I finished it lamely with, “he doesn’t like it.”

  “I’m sure he will. Won’t you, Ben?” said McKennan, as he flashed me a wicked smile.

  I growled and glanced at Ben. With my arms folded, I stood there in the middle of the room and thought it through. McKennan might have a valid point, but he could have given me a little warning. “Just let me get a chair,” I said as I left the room and came back with one from the kitchen. I set it in front of Ben while he lounged on the couch. His smile told me he was enjoying the interplay and the fact that my brother was tormenting me. I thought about telling him this might not be the best time to take so much joy in my distress, but held my tongue.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said as I met his eyes, trying to convey I would back him if he wanted to run for the hills.

  “Will it help?” he asked as he leaned forward. Before he got too close, McKennan noisily cleared his throat. Ben stopped and sat back.

  I rolled my eyes at McKennan, then gazed back at Ben. “I think so. But that doesn’t matter. It could be, well, you saw what happened last time,” I said as I broke eye contact and looked down, ashamed that I had to point it out. The still-slightly-off Mark was a constant reminder of it.

  He glanced at McKennan and said a little too loudly, “Obviously, I don’t know a lot about this, as you’ve refused to tell me more.” He leaned toward me. “But from what you said, last time was a mistake. I’m guessing if your brother invited me over, you’re getting better, so if this will help you not do it again, I’m game,” he said. He reached out and put his hand underneath my chin, and nudged it up so I would meet his eyes.

  I swallowed hard as he gave me what I guessed was supposed to be a reassuring look. Still watching his eyes, I sucked in a deep breath and started out with something simple, a combination of the scales I had learned. I wondered if the first piper to string this combination had been like me, trying to get through the day without hurting the people around them.

  Ben sat there, patiently smiling as I sang. He didn’t seem like he had a sudden desire to jump up and come after me—or do anything else out of character—so I figured I was doing okay. As I neared the last verse, the power surged around in the back of my mind like a flame searching for more oxygen.

  It wanted to string it to my current song and let it show me how easy it could be to slide into something a bit more difficult, something that could grow in strength and fan the flames brighter until I blazed. I stopped mid-verse and shoved it down into a shabby mental box. Take compartmentalization and times it by a hundred. Tonight, the exercise was to see if I could sing a basic song with no piper abilities involved, not this.

  “Again,” McKennan ordered from his decrepit recliner throne. I went back into the original song and made myself control the switch while I adjusted into another melody—one with a little more rhythm, a little more sizzle and pizazz, and that had none of the entanglements I wished to avoid with Ben.

  The power diminished to a burning coal and allowed me to slip between songs a little easier. Sweat dribbled down my forehead by the end of the exercise as my body still burned inside from an unsung heat source. The temptation to play swirled around inside, but I took pride in the fact that I had not released a single unplanned, power-laced note.

  “Good,” McKennan barked as he stood up and turned toward Ben. “Come back next week, same time,” he ordered before leaving the room.

  “Wow,” was all Ben uttered as he watched McKennan go. “I can see why he can get away with ordering people around. I wouldn’t want to go against him in broad daylight.” His eyes met mine and he grinned again.

  He swallowed a couple of times as if he wanted to ask me something but was unsure. I lifted an eyebrow, acknowledging the awkward silence growing between us, but decided that fluffy talk would ultimately fail here. Is this how Kelly felt when he waited for me to gather my thoughts?

  Ben took a step closer. Only inches away from me, he whispered, “I looked up those fairy tales you mentioned. The Pied Piper was real, wasn’t he?”

  “He was my great-great-grandfather. Believe it or not, our family’s shame isn’t because he lured off a whole bunch of children to a questionable end; it’s the fact that people ever heard about pipers in the first place.”

  “So he made a bunch of rats go into the river and then took their children away when the town didn’t pay up?” He took a small step back.

  “He sort of had to. According to my father, he just made the kids leave their clothes by the river to freak the towns folk out. I always guessed he took them elsewhere, but I never had the guts to ask what happened to them,” I said glancing around to make sure McKennan hadn’t come back.

  “What do you mean he had to?” he asked, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. He looked like he was starting to question his decision to help me. You and me both, buddy.

  “He had no choice because he, like every other piper including me, are bound to our promises. A deal’s a deal. You spit, you shake, you pay up. It was simpler back then.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Is that what happened with Mark?” He paused again and glanced in the direction McKennan had gone. “Did I make a deal with your brother when I agreed to come over?”

  “No. I’m told you’d know if you’ve made a deal. What happened to Mark, it was an accident. I’m trying to get better at it so it doesn’t happen again, unless, I want it to,” I whispered, not meeting his eyes and pretending my bright green shoes had suddenly become fascinating.

  “Unless you want it to?” he asked as he put his hand gently under my chin again to lift it up so I met his eyes.

  “Unless I want to. Which I don’t. I always thought it would be
so cool, but…” I paused. I should stop talking. There was no way he could understand what the feeling of using piper magic was like. How do you describe varying degrees of feeling alive? “It can get out of control fast.” I took a step back myself, a resolute expression on my face. Ben held his hands up in mock surrender before he headed for the door.

  “Don’t forget. Same time next week,” boomed McKennan from the kitchen.

  My cheeks went bright red and Ben chuckled. “Sure thing, drill sergeant,” he said before going down the stairs, taking them two at a time. On the bottom step, he stopped and waved up at me, then got in his truck. It wasn’t until he was driving away that I let myself wave back. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  I wanted to dance around the living room, elated I hadn’t hurt Ben, but at the same time, singing on purpose to someone who had even a small clue what we could do was so against both our family and the piper rules.

  Father would be so mad if he knew about this, the thought zinged in unexpectedly.

  As soon as it hit, I grinned. Who cared what he thought? It worked. Ben was living, breathing, and didn’t throw himself at me. All in all, he was still himself. He had no desire to be my one true love, go to war, hurt anyone I currently disliked, or even kill himself. I had done well and next time, I would do even better.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Law

  I RUBBED MY HANDS TOGETHER FOR the third time and reached for the doorknob, pausing before my fingertips met metal.

  This isn’t a date. He’s just coming to help out. I shook my head and stuck my hand in my pocket as if it could prevent me from opening the door and foolishly peeking out to see if his truck had appeared in the last five seconds.

  With a deep breath, I exhaled, trying to calm the butterflies that came each time I pictured his dimpled grin and his sweet attempt to rescue me from his best friend. Ben, my own knight in shining armor.

  “Checking the door every other second isn’t going to make him come any faster,” Kelly called from his room. He didn’t bother to hide the amusement in his voice. His laughter carried into the living room and tickled my skin as it wrapped me in a bubble of warm emotion. I felt light and giddy, rolling on a wave of joy engineered by his piper magic.

  I blinked, riding the feeling. Kelly was really happy. I’m pretty happy, too.

  A song from someone outside began enfolding me. A strong desire to sleep steamrolled over me, and my knees buckled. I almost curled up on the floor right then and there.

  A knock on the front door caused me to groan. The effort to lift my arm, much less use it to open a door, seemed like too much trouble. I yawned and slumped down, bringing myself a few inches closer to my desired position.

  The strength of the new song must have upset Kelly’s happy melody. His footsteps thumped down the hall toward me in big brother protector mode. Under his arm, he held a sobbing Conner. Once he came within arm’s length, he yanked me away from the door.

  “Go to your room!” he ordered. He tossed Conner at me. “And for goodness sakes, cover your ears!”

  For the second time today, his control slipped and the power that rode his emotions broke through my stupor. The look in his eyes told me something bad was happening.

  “Go,” ordered Kelly one more time, spurring me into motion.

  I wrapped my arms around Conner and sprinted toward my room. It was as far back in the apartment as I could get, and I only hoped it would be enough. Once inside, I dove on the bed and used my shaking body to create a shield for Conner against our unknown foe.

  Kelly followed closely behind, clutching his cell phone. What was happening? That was only for emergencies. Yet I still hadn’t pinpointed what the emergency was.

  : “Kelly—,” but before any other words could leave my mouth, he flashed me a “be quiet” look, then dialed.

  “McKennan, you still at the store? Good. Don’t come home. There’s a piper at the door. They’re attacking with a sleep song. Can you get to Maggie’s house just in case?” The harsh quality of Kelly’s voice resonated down my spine in a wild shiver and I held Conner all the tighter.

  Kelly hit the end button with such force, the plastic crunched. He grabbed the blankets he had dragged in the room behind us and started shoving them into the crack between the door and carpet. He paused to toss a couple at me.

  I released Conner, grabbed them with shaking hands, and started covering the window. When we finished, we both sighed.

  We were safe, or at least as safe as we could make ourselves. I scanned Conner up and down to mentally reassure myself of this, then crawled back onto the bed and wrapped him in a hug, hoping to comfort his quaking form. Out of the corner of my eye, the broken vent cover I hadn’t bothered to fix changed from a silly annoyance to a threat. It was one more opening the song could sneak through and penetrate the room before we could defend ourselves. Not that any of us were trained enough to know how to retaliate without hurting ourselves in the process.

  “Kelly,” I hissed pointing up. He growled, leapt on the bed, and ripped the vent cover off. He shoved a blanket in the dark metal hole until it would go no further, then stepped down. He hunched on the edge of the bed, fist still balled as if he were preparing for a physical fight and not a psychological war.

  I rested my hand on his shoulder, not able to offer any words of comfort—I didn’t have any myself. Father didn’t talk about pipers very much, but the few stories we had wheedled out of him were about the battles, truly frightening piper disputes. They could use a no-holds-barred, no-one-was-safe playground.

  This could be bad. I just wasn’t sure why it was happening. Why were they attacking? We hadn’t broken any rules, at least none visible to the world beyond my little family.

  Whatever the reason, it was probably tied to me. I had kicked the hornet’s nest. If I left, would our attacker leave my brothers alone? I didn’t want to give up my new life, our happy family or Ben, but if it kept everyone safe, I’d go away.

  That’s when it hit me: Ben would be here any minute and he’d walk right into whoever was at the door. Why didn’t I think about him the minute Kelly told me to run? My head dropped in sync with my gut.

  “I have to call Ben! I need to stop him,” I said, as my voice broke.

  Kelly pulled the cellphone out of his pocket and tossed it to me. I scrolled through the contacts, jamming my fingers against the keys as zealously as Kelly had. It wasn’t there. McKennan had called Ben. Why hadn’t I gotten his number for myself?

  I hit redial and held my breath, willing McKennan to pick up. He might be too busy getting to Maggie. Maybe he was taking her family to safety before he thought about anything else. It rang one more time and the line connected. I half-sobbed in relief.

  “McKennan, what is Ben’s number? I need to tell him not to come. Please!”

  “Hush, ma cherie, your little friend is just fine. We do not wish to hurt him. I believe we might have sent a mixed message when we sent the codladh—” answered a strange lyrical voice.

  The man paused, his voice muffled as he asked something in another language. After a brief exchange, he came back on. “Sleep music, I’m told you would call it. When your father said you were out of control, we became concerned and thought it best not to upset you. I believe we managed to do the opposite, and for this, I apologize.”

  “My father was wrong. I made a mistake when I first—” I fumbled. What was the piper term? “Stirred, but I fixed it, and I’m learning. I haven’t made another.” I tried to make my shaking voice sound calm, but my fear betrayed me.

  “I see. Regardless, a request has been made and we must see for ourselves.”

  I didn’t have to be raised in a piper community to know bad blood ran in our family. The fact that there was a story out there about the pipers, even a fairy tale, remained our family’s shame.

  Kelly yanked the phone away from me. “I want your word her assessment won’t be affected by what my father said. I want a deal or we aren�
�t coming out,” he rumbled. He tried to move to the other side of the room so I couldn’t hear the reply. I grabbed his arm and wouldn’t let go.

  “Excuse me, children, but you aren’t in the best position to be issuing orders. However, I am willing to agree. It’s a deal,” he said. The line went dead.

  Kelly made a deal. He had no choice but to deliver me. It wasn’t just a family code, it was a piper rule, one that couldn’t be ignored.

  I lightly kissed Conner on the cheek before going to the door. Kelly ripped the blankets out of the way and walked me down the hall. I dragged my feet, drawing out the inevitable.

  My racing heart took over and drowned my logic. I stopped, nervously biting my lip, and looked up at Kelly, unable to hide my fear. With a reassuring nod, he stepped in front of me and swung the front door open.

  Outside, a man with cold grey eyes leaned against the balcony. He fingered his pipe, contradicting his relaxed stance. Light skittered across the pipe’s brass tip.

  He twirled it, the corner of his lips lifting in some semblance of a smile that did nothing to warm his eyes. I shivered and pressed tightly against the opposite railing until I put some distance between the devil and myself.

  He gave Kelly a brusque nod as we passed. Two men stood at the bottom of the stairs. Beside them, stood Ben and McKennan. Ben swayed as if on a boat, the nonexistent waves rolling back and forth to a motion only he could feel. McKennan’s stalwart figure offered a safe harbor that prevented him from drifting off—permanently.

  One of the men, who had an air of authority, stepped forward. “Hello Kyra. What a pleasure to finally meet you.” He slipped off a thin leather glove, tucked it in his waistcoat pocket, and held out his hand. He kept it extended until I reluctantly shook it.

  Our brief contact sent a strange tingling sensation across my palm and up my arm. He offered his hand to Kelly, who returned the greeting with a little more force than necessary. The stranger’s fingers went white before the two men released.