"Kill her? Why?" asked Gregor, stunned.
"We have been told it is predicted by 'The Prophecy of Bane'," said Ares, marginally more calm now.
The Prophecy of Bane, thought Belle with a frown. When Gregor had left the Underland, with Belle and Ares as his escort, he had told them he was never coming back. Luxa had replied, "That is not what it says in 'The Prophecy of Bane'." Belle had tried to ask Vikus about it, but he had been evasive and hustled her and Gregor onto Ares, then given the command to take flight. Belle had been pestering him about it for weeks, but had gotten nowhere. So she didn't know what it meant, but the first prophecy in which she and Gregor had been mentioned had resulted in the deaths of four members of a fourteen-party quest and had triggered a war that killed countless others.
Belle shivered.
Gregor's face had taken on a cast of dread. "What does it say, Ares?" he asked.
"Ask Vikus," the bat answered shortly. "I do not know, and in any case I am tired of being interrupted."
They climbed on Ares's back and flew back to Regalia without another word between them. All around Belle were tense muscles and chilly attitudes. Ares's breathing was harsh and quick, the way it always was when he became very angry or upset.
When they reached Regalia, it was so quiet it could have been nighttime. Well, nighttime was relative, since the Underland had no sun or moon, but it seemed almost as if the city was asleep.
Ares made straight for the palace and landed in the High Hall, the large, ceiling-less room built to accommodate the arrivals of several bats at once.
Standing in the middle of the huge room, patient and all alone, was Vikus. The aged man smiled, his violet eyes twinkling amid a web of wrinkles as Belle and Gregor dismounted.
"Hey, Vikus," said Gregor.
"Ah, Gregor the Overlander! Ares and Belle have found you. I thought it would be best to seek you in the passage from your laundry room, but Ares insisted on scouting the Waterway. I ascertain that, as bonds, you have already begun to think alike," said Vikus.
Ares and Gregor stared in opposite directions, emanating waves of icy annoyance.
Vikus glanced from one to the other, cleared his throat quietly, and went on. "So...welcome! You look well. And your family?"
"Fine, thanks. Where's Boots?" said Gregor. He had begun to fidget, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Ah, the crawlers should be arriving with her shortly. Mareth led a party to meet them, and I could not dissuade Luxa from joining. By now, Ares has, of course, explained our predicament to you," said Vikus.
"Not really," said Gregor.
Vikus looked around at all of them, but nobody elaborated. Belle licked her lips uncertainly, avoiding her surrogate grandfather's gaze.
"Well, then. To begin with, we should examine together 'The Prophecy of Bane.' Perhaps you remember, Gregor, Belle, I did make some small mention of it."
"Very small," Belle muttered, remembering how Vikus had rushed them off and since then explained absolutely nothing.
"Let us proceed to Sandwich's room now. Ares, you will attend as well, please," said Vikus, and headed off into the palace. Gregor hurried after him, purposefully avoiding the ordeal it would have been to walk side-by-side with Ares.
Vikus did not resume the conversation until they had reached the solid wooden door of Sandwich's room. He pulled a small key from his pocket and turned it in the lock. The door swung silently open. "You will find it on your right," said Vikus, and motioned for the others to enter ahead of him.
Gregor entered first, followed by Belle and Ares. Gregor took the torch from the holder by the door and held it up. The light was dim and golden, turning the room into a shadowed box. A box filled with words, which covered the walls, floor, and even the ceiling. These words formed the visions of Bartholomew of Sandwich, the founder of Regalia. The Underlanders lived and died by these prophecies. The last time Belle had been in this room, the wall facing the door had been illuminated by a small oil lamp. That was where "The Prophecy of Gray" was carved. The lamp had been moved to a wall on their right, lighting up "The Prophecy of Bane."
The combined light of Gregor's torch and the lamp made it easy for Belle to make out the words. She began to read aloud, eyes flitting quickly over the carved passage.
"If Under fell, if Over leaped, if life was death, if death life reaped; something rises from the gloom to make the Underland a tomb.
"Hear it scratching down below, rat of long forgotten snow. Evil cloaked in coat of white, will the warriors drain your light?
"What could turn the warriors weak? What do burning gnawers seek? Just a barely speaking pup who holds the land of under up.
"Die the baby, die their hearts, for each their most essential part. Die the peace that rules the hour; gnawers have their key to power."
Belle didn't really know what that meant, but one phrase caught her eye immediately, chilling her heart: Die the baby.
"Okay," said Gregor, "we need to go through this whole thing. Right here, right now."
Vikus nodded. "Yes, I think it wise we dissect the prophecy immediately. It is not as cryptic as the first, but there are things you both must know." His eyes lingered on Gregor and Belle. "Shall we begin at the beginning?" Vikus moved to the wall and brushed his fingers over the first stanza of the prophecy. "You have fresh eyes, whereas I have read this thousands of times. Tell me, warriors, what make you of this?"
They both peered closely at the lines. "It is about Gregor...and Henry," Belle said finally.
"Yeah," Gregor agreed. "I'm the Over, I leaped. Henry's the Under, he fell. I lived and he died."
"Yes. King Gorger and his rats also died, reaping much life in the Underland," added Vikus.
"Hey, how come you didn't tell us about this before? Then maybe we would have known what was coming!" said Gregor.
There was a pause. Then, "No...no, Gregor," Belle murmured, reexamining the prophecy. "If you think about it, it is only clear in hindsight. 'Under' could not only have referred to Henry, but to any other Underland creature--perhaps even the Underland itself. 'Over' could have been your father. The leap may not have been literal, but spiritual. Henry's fall could have alluded to any number of physical deaths, or even a fall from power or grace. I would not imagine a human literally falling to his death was a popular interpretation. And Henry...Henry." Belle stopped, unable to go on.
"Henry would never have suspected he would die in such a way," Vikus finished for her.
"Why not?" asked Gregor.
Belle shook off her own melancholy and went to Ares, whose face held an expression of such unimaginable sorrow that she couldn't bear to let him stand alone. He took a deep breath as she settled at his side, taking his claw in her hand.
"Because he would have expected me to catch him," he said bluntly.
"Yes," said Vikus. "So, you see that the first prophecy was indeed gray to us, although now, of course, it seems as clear as water. Shall we go on?"
Belle reread the next lines. Something rises from the gloom to make the Underland a tomb.
"So, something bad is coming," said Gregor. "Something deadly."
"Not just coming. It is here, and has been for some time. Only the rats have concealed it, even from their own. You will find more about it in the next stanza," said Vikus, nodding to the next section.
Hear it scratching down below, rat of long forgotten snow. Evil cloaked in coat of white, will the warriors drain your light?
Gregor studied the lines for a minute. "It's a rat. A white rat?"
"The color of long-forgotten snow, for we do not get snow in the Underland," said Belle. She sighed wistfully. "Though I remember it to be quite beautiful."
"It still is," said Gregor. "There's snow everywhere right now. It makes everything look better."
Belle smiled slightly. She had loved snow, from the time when she was a toddler watching it fall through the parlor window. It was even better running about and playing in it, when she grew old enough. It covered up dirt and rubbish and made everything look fresh. But then, of course, it melted in your socks.
"So, this white rat..." said Gregor.
"It is the stuff of legends. Even when he lived in the Overland, Sandwich knew tales of the white rat. Historically, one will appear every few centuries, gather other rats about it, and create a reign of terror. It is commonly superior in strength, cunning, and size," explained Vikus.
"Size?" said Gregor. "You mean it's even bigger than the other rats down here?"
"Oh, considerably so," replied Vikus. "As legend has it. At this point, the only thing standing between this creature and the Underland is our warriors: the pair of you. You two are a threat to it; that is why the white rat has been concealed so carefully. The gnawers do not wish it to be found. But you also have a weakness."
Vikus tapped the third stanza. What could turn the warriors weak? What do burning gnawers seek? Just a barely speaking pup who holds the land of Under up.
"Do you know what is meant by 'pup'?" asked Vikus.
"Ripred called Luxa and Henry pups once, when they didn't obey him fast enough," said Gregor, making Belle wonder suddenly what was happening to the huge, scarred rat at that moment.
"Sarcastically, to remind them he was in charge," Belle told her friend. "For rats, a 'pup' is a baby. And the only baby we know of is...oh, no." Again, a chill crept down her spine. Her eyes were irresistibly drawn to the final lines of the prophecy.
Die the baby, die their hearts, for each their most essential part. Die the peace that rules the hour; gnawers have their key to power.
"So they think that if they"--Gregor's voice broke, and he stopped for a moment--"kill Boots, then something will happen to us."
"They believe it will break you somehow," said Vikus. "Both of you. And if that happens, the rats will overtake the rest of us."
"No pressure, then," muttered Belle, but she was very frightened.
"Are you sure it's Boots?" asked Gregor in a controlled voice.
"As sure as we may dare be. The closeness of both of you to her is well known. That you sacrificed yourself rather than let King Gorger kill her, that Belle defended her time and time again...these things made a great impression on everyone. Can either of you think of any other baby it might be?" asked Vikus solemnly.
Belle stared at the floor; Gregor shook his head. It was Boots, it had to be. And the rats were right about one thing: if Boots died, something in the warriors would break.
"So, why did you bring her down here? Why didn't you just leave her in the Overland, where she was safe?" said Gregor angrily.
"Because she was not safe, and neither were you. The crawlers watch you night and day, to protect you," said Vikus.
"You mean the little ones?"
"Yes, they are in communication with the larger ones below. But the rats watch you as well. They have been tracking your family's movements since shortly after you left the Underland, waiting for a chance to take your sister's life," said Vikus. "It was not possible in your home. But today you ventured out, very near one of our gateways."
"Central Park," murmured Belle.
"Yeah...we were sledding," said Gregor, his brow creasing.
Ares finally spoke up. "The Overlander was chased in the tunnels by the gnawers. He had to drop into the Waterway to escape them."
"The crawlers must have retrieved boots just in time," Belle realized. "She was the rats' target today."
"Why not just kill me and Belle?" asked Gregor numbly.
"They would be happy to. But they have seen you leap and live to tell of it, so they are more concerned with the prophecy. It is by killing Boots that they mean to destroy you," said Vikus.
"I still think we--Boots and me--would be safer in the Overland," said Gregor. "We just won't go to Central Park. We'll keep Boots inside..." But he seemed unsure.
"I will send you back directly, if that is what you wish. But they will find her, Gregor, now that they are set on it. In their minds, it is a race. They must kill Boots before you and Belle can kill the white rat. Only one may survive. Believe it or not, she was brought to the Underland to protect her," said Vikus.
"And to protect yourselves," said Gregor flatly.
"Yes, and to protect ourselves," said Vikus. "But as our destinies are so intertwined, it seemed one and the same thing. So, what shall it be? Shall we take you home, or will you play out your hand with us?"
Gregor frowned. Belle watched him uncertainly, taking in a breath. Cold air traveled through her lungs, dust motes tickling her nose. What would he choose?
There was a skittering sound at the door. Belle turned her head to see Boots riding through the door on the back of a giant cockroach with a bent antenna.
"Ge-go!" she giggled. "Bells! I ride! Temp take Boots ride!"
She was so happy, so small, so innocent...so helpless. If the rats ever caught Boots alone, she would be gone in a New York minute. Not even.
They couldn't let that happen.
"We're staying," Gregor finally said with a sigh. "We're staying till this thing is over."