Belle and the Prophecy of Grey

Chapter 22

Gregor soared out over the canyon, throwing his body high into the air. Fresh blood streamed down the back of his leg.

He is falling, Belle thought, squeezing her eyes shut against memories of her own fall to the Underland. Again. Only here, there were no currents of vapor to slow Gregor's fall, only the hideous, gaping black void. Belle wanted to go after him; if she and Persephone were fast enough, they could catch him—or they could have, if they weren't already carrying Boots and Gregor's father. Luxa and Aurora were too far; they'd never reach him in time.

There was a huge crack! as the entire edge of the cliff gave way. Belle's eyes flew open. The army of rats was going down, but so was Gregor—and Henry. He had joined the rats in their pursuit. But that wasn't right, they couldn't both end up dead. The prophecy only called for one more death.

Then Ares flashed past. He shot over the cliffside and went rocketing toward the ground at tremendous speed, dodging the rats that reached for him. But who was he going to catch? It couldn't possibly be both of them. Gregor didn't deserve to die, but Henry was his bond. Even knowing what she did of his character, for a moment Belle was sure he would choose Henry. But Ares didn't. Belle heard Henry's desperate plea: "Ares!"

Ares twisted in midair, and Gregor slammed into his back. At the last moment Belle buried her face in her arms, clapping her hands over her ears against Henry's final, agonized scream.

It was over. The rats and Henry were gone—but Gregor was saved.

Persephone slowly descended, coming in for a landing alongside Luxa and Aurora. Luxa was already on her golden bat, staring straight ahead without speaking. She had revived just long enough for the inevitable battle before settling back into silence.

A bloodied Ripred stood nearby.

"What will you do?" Belle asked him. He couldn't be coming back to Regalia with them.

"Run, lass. Run like the river. Fly you high!" He took off down the road.

Surprisingly, tears sprung to Belle's eyes. Maybe it was the shock of Henry's betrayal and the exhaustion of everything that had happened—but she was going to miss Ripred. "Fly you high, Ripred!" she called as he disappeared from view. "Fly you high!"

And then Ares was there. Belle was off Persephone's back and rushing over to him in an instant. Gregor was down from Ares's back just as fast. They paused for one moment to exchange a look—a look that said I know, I'm sorry, you're still my friend. Then he hurried over to his father and Boots, and Belle ran straight into Ares's wings.

"Ares," she whispered. Her voice was choked.

Ares was trembling. "I did not know, Belle. I swear to you, I did not know."

Belle stared up at him. He looked terrified and stricken, and his eyes were filled with tears. She cupped his face in her hands.

"I know," she said simply.

Ares let out a ragged sigh. As he gathered her to his chest, the final words of the prophecy came back to her:

The last who will die must decide where he stands. The fate of two and eight is contained in his hands. So bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps, as life may be death and death life again reaps.

It had been about Henry, after all. Henry had had a choice before him—would he stand with his loved ones, or with the rats? He had stood with the rats. That had determined the fate of the other members of the quest. Henry hadn't taken care, hadn't looked where he leapt or looked at all, really, because he was so absorbed in helping the rats. Henry had died because of his decisions—and his assumptions. He had never guessed that Luxa and Belle would not stand with him. Even in his final moments, he had assumed that Ares, his bond, would save him. But Ares had made a different choice, and saved Gregor instead.