Gregor and the Traitor's Prophecy
I do not own the Underland Chronicles. All recognizable characters belong to Suzanne Collins.
Ripred the gnawer, I bond to you...
Luxa the human, I bond to you...
Life and death are one, we two,
In dark, in flame, in war, in strife,
I save you as I save my life.
Gregor's fingertips itched against the scars against his chest, then drummed uneasily upon his ribs. His eyes darted back and forth in the darkness. His soft breathing outlined silvery shapes, and his head bobbed to the rhythm of his the last bonding he had heard in the Underland.
That was over four years ago.
The black of his room turned red, then orange as the sun rose through the open window. His eyes adjusted, and he sighed as he swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat up groggily. There went another night without sleep. He could feel himself forgetting how.
He slipped around his neck a leather cord. Dangling at the end of it was Ares' claw.
He went through his plain morning routine: get changed, have breakfast, brush teeth. His mom plucked a donut from the bag on the table, pecked a kiss onto his forehead, and left.
Gregor's family had been undeniably better since the events in the Underland had unraveled. After moving to Virginia as planned, his mother had managed to dig up her old college major and secure a well-paid, full-insurance job as a dental assistant, and his dad had been hired as a science teacher at Lizzie's middle school. Lizzie was the brightest kid in the seventh grade, and everyone knew it; already, colleges were paying attention to her unmatchable skills. His sister, Boots, was also excelling in school. Teachers were amazed by the nine-year-old's ability to learn and adapt quickly. Boots was fluent in multiple languages.
The family, of course, knew just where that came from, but never spoke of it.
He missed the Underland. From Luxa to Mareth to Vikus to Temp, from Regalia to Hamnet's jungle to even the Dead Lands, he missed it. Heck, he missed Ripred.
"Gregor!"
Turning at the calling of his name, Gregor's eyes caught those of his friend, Felix Dwyer, running to catch up with him.
Felix was Gregor's first friend upon moving to Virginia. His green eyes always shone playfully bright, and when his dark brown waves turned tangled in disarray and his wide, dimpled grin spread across his face, he always seemed to be plotting his next step to create chaos.
"Gregor!" Felix called again. He finally came to stand beside his friend, his long frame towering over Gregor's. "You know, even when you look like you're in thought, I swear you move at eighty miles plus."
Gregor smirked and rolled his eyes. "Should I be offended?"
"Nah!" Felix said cheerfully. "Although you may want to slow down some. Quinnton'll never catch up."
"Quinnton'll never what?" a lilting voice sounded behind them.
Gregor and Felix jumped and turned around to find their friend smirking inquiringly up at them.
Quinn Pence, or "Quinnton", as Felix liked to call her, had moved to Virginia from Texas come freshman year. As a result, her voice was more cadenced with a lazy Southern drawl than other Virginians. Kids at school used to tease her about it until Gregor and Felix stepped in; with Felix's towering height, Gregor's imposing silence, students had come both to respect and fear the girl. More importantly, Gregor and Felix made a new friend. After all, it irked Felix that she shared the same accent that he did, but was teased more than he was, so they took her under their wing.
On first glance, one wouldn't have much reason to be afraid of Quinn. She was short, barely coming up to Gregor's collarbone. Her golden-blonde hair and deep blue doe-eyes unfortunately gave her the appearance of naivete, and her freckles, pink lips, and casual dress style didn't really help her case much.
However, Quinn was a black belt in six different types of martial arts, could take down three grown men each twice her size, had won her state's rib-eating contest every year since she was ten, and for added measure, she was well on her way to class valedictorian.
Everyone in school knew about the dynamic trio; this was the reason why they were mainly left alone.
"Quinnton'll never catch up?" Felix tried weakly, and Gregor suppressed the urge to laugh. "Because... Gregor... well..."
Quinn raised an eyebrow in amusement and held up a hand. "Say no more. I gotcha. Felix is right, Gregs. You need to slow down else you'll run into something. Or at least pay attention to where you're going." Quinn leaned against the bus stop sign, deep in thought. She tapped her fingers against the strap of her backpack. "You know what would take your mind off things? Our studio's gonna be headed down to North Philly for the national martial arts tournament. You two knuckleheads could come watch."
"Watch you kick some serious ass?" Felix laughed. "I'm scared of you enough, Quinnton, no need for more."
Gregor shook his head and smiled at his friends. "Much as I'd like to, Q, I need to side with Felix on this one."
No, he didn't. If anything, he would give all he had to go to Quinn's tournament. But the fighting: how could he know what watching the fighting would do to his rager sensations?
If Quinn was disappointed by their answers, she didn't show it. Instead, she gave a solemn nod and resumed her tapping.
By the time the school bus pulled up, Gregor's guilt at rejecting his friend's offer had begun to eat at him; Quinn had done so much for him, from canceling one of her debate finals just to see his saxophone solo at the school concert, to paying for his lunch money back when his family was still struggling. And he couldn't even do this one little thing?
"So, when's the tournament?" he burst, causing Quinn and Felix to jump.
"The end of the month...?" Quinn said slowly, as though talking to a small child.
"Great!" Gregor said with forced enthusiasm. "I'll be there."
"Wait, what?!" Felix backpedaled. "We go fishing at the end of each month!"
"Sorry, Felix," Gregor said. "I feel bad about not going to the tournament, and," he said, holding up a finger to cut short Quinn's protests, "this tournament's a one-time thing. We can go fishing next month."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"No, say your promise. Mama says it's no good till said."
"I solemnly swear that we can go fishing at the beginning of next month."
"In that case, then," Felix said, haughtily readjusting his vest, "Looks like I'm coming with you to this tournament too. Can't be bored on the weekend now, can I?"
Gregor and Quinn exchanged a glance upon seeing Felix's green eyes gleam mischievously.
"Urgh!" Quinn paced around on the side of the dirt road, the moonlight reflecting off her eyes menacingly. "You idiots got us lost!"
"Don't blame me!" Felix defended. "Blame Gregor; he held the map!"
"Hey!"
"You were drivin', Felix you moron!" Quinn snapped. "Now I'm gonna miss my tournament, and I'm gonna miss my trophy, and—"
"Relax, Q," Felix crooned. "If we can just—"
"Get. In the damn. Car." Quinn pointed, seething, into the passenger seat.
It was the end of the month, and Gregor and Felix made good on their commitment to Quinn. Unfortunately, they had somehow ended up lost; they had only been driving three hours, and already, they were at riverside in the middle of nowhere. Gregor wholly blamed Felix; he was sure that at one point or another, the guy had turned left instead of right, or maybe east instead of west. However, Felix looked innocent as could be as he pretended to contemplate for a moment.
"Shoot, I guess I've got no choice."
He sauntered into the car without a care in the world, head reclining on his hands. Quinn stomped into the driver's side, and Gregor silently slid into the seat beside her.
They drove in silence for fifteen minutes, Quinn muttering angrily under her breath and pausing only to yell at Felix everytime she thought up a new point she could use against him. Gregor smiled bitterly. Mutter, yell, mutter, yell, just like Ripred had after Gregor, Lapblood, and Mange had gone to search for fruits in Hamnet's jungle.
He shook his head to shake off the memory. There was no point in pining for something he couldn't have anymore.
He was jolted out of his thoughts by Quinn's sharp shriek.
Gregor looked up in time to find an Underland rat sitting right in the car's path.