Disclaimer: I do not own the Underland Chronicles or anyone within.


Mrs. Cormaci handed the book over to Luxa and she began to read.

"Kill her? But why?" asked Gregor, stunned.

'Yes,' Grace thought desperately. 'What would they gain from killing my baby girl?'

"It is foretold by 'The Prophecy of Bane,'" said Ares.

"The Prophecy of Bane." Gregor remembered it now. When he had left the Underland the first time, he had told Luxa he would never come back, and she had said, "That is not what it says in 'The Prophecy of Bane.'" And then he'd tried to ask Vikus about it, but the old man had been evasive and hustled him onto his bat

"Hustled you?" Mrs. Cormaci asked. "Gregor, I think you're being too kind to Vikus. You were picked up and placed on top of Ares and then Ares was told to leave."

Luxa giggled. "She is right, you know,"

and given the command to leave. So, Gregor didn't know what it meant, but the first prophecy in which he'd been mentioned had resulted in the deaths of four members of a twelve-party quest and had triggered a war that had killed countless others.

A feeling of dread swept over him. "What does it say, Ares?"

"Ask Vikus," Ares said shortly. "I am tired of being interrupted."

Mrs. Cormaci snorted. She was still upset that Gregor had spoken to Ares like that. He was a good bat, and deserved better.

He climbed on Ares's back, and they flew back to Regalia without exchanging another word. Gregor was angry with Ares but even angrier with himself for placing his family in jeopardy again. Yes, Luxa had mentioned "The Prophecy of Bane." It was just that once he and his mom had blocked that grate in the laundry room, Gregor had put the idea of returning to the Underland out of his mind. "Avoid the laundry room, avoid the Underland," he'd reasoned.

Luxa frowned. She hated that Gregor had once wanted to avoid the Underland. Then she flinched, remembering their argument during their 'picnic'.

Gregor felt her flinch and looked at her questioningly, but she avoided his eyes by placing her head on his chest.

But how could he have taken Boots to Central Park? He knew about the entrance there! He knew there was a second prophecy! It had been foolish to think it would be safe.

When they reached the beautiful stone city, it was so quiet that Gregor thought it must be nighttime here. Well, nighttime was relative, since the Underland had no sun or moon, no day or night, like the Overland. But Gregor figured it must be the time when most of the city was asleep.

Ares headed for the palace and made a smooth landing in the High Hall, the big, ceiling-less room that could accommodate the arrival of many bats.

Standing patiently, all alone, was Vikus. The old man looked exactly as Gregor remembered him, his silver hair and beard trimmed very short, his violet eyes in a web of wrinkles that was mostly noticeable when he smiled. He was smiling now, as Gregor dismounted.

Ripred snorted. "The man's almost always smiling, 'seeing the best in people'. What did you expect?"

"Hey, Vikus," said Gregor.

"Ah, Gregor the Overlander! Ares has found you. I thought it would be best to seek you in the passage from your laundry room, but he insisted on scouting the Waterway. I ascertain that, as bonds, you already think alike," said Vikus.

Mrs. Cormaci whistled. Then she laughed, "If only he knew,"

Neither Ares nor Gregor responded. Since they weren't actually speaking to each other, it seemed stupid to act like they had some special mental link.

Vikus glanced from one to the other and then continued. "So . . . welcome! You look well. And your family?"

"Fine, thanks. Where's Boots?" said Gregor. He liked Vikus, but this whole situation with the roaches kidnapping Boots and the threat from the prophecy killed his mood for small talk.

"Ah, the crawlers should arrive with her shortly. Mareth led a party to meet them, and I could not dissuade Luxa from joining.

"Aw, you like Boots more than me?" Gregor pouted.

"Of course I do, Gregor. She's so much . . . smarter than you," Luxa laughed. Both children looked to Boots where she was sniffing her feet and singing "Ten tiny toes,"

Gregor looked questioningly at Luxa and she blushed. "Well, she's cuter, anyway,"

By now, Ares has, of course, explained our predicament to you," said Vikus.

Mrs. Cormaci chuckled. "Oh, yes, in complete detail. There was diagrams and everything!"

"Not really," said Gregor.

Mrs. Cormaci sighed. "'Course, you're answer works too,"

Vikus looked at each of them again, but neither Gregor nor Ares elaborated.

"Well, then. To begin with, we should examine together 'The Prophecy of Bane.' Perhaps you remember, when you were departing the Underland, I made some small mention of it," said Vikus.

"He said nothing!" Luxa exclaimed. "I am the one who made a mention of it!"

"Very small," Gregor muttered. What he remembered was that Vikus had rushed him off and told him absolutely nothing.

"See!"

"Let us proceed to Sandwich's room now. Ares, you will attend as well, please," Vikus said, and headed off into the palace.

Gregor followed him with Ares fluttering along behind.

Vikus did not resume the conversation until they'd reached a solid wooden door. He pulled a key from his cloak and turned it in the lock. The door swung open. "You will find it on your right," he said, and motioned for Gregor to enter ahead of him.

Gregor pulled a torch from a holder by the door and walked in to the room. It was entirely covered in tiny words carved into the stone walls in the 1600s by the founder of Regalia, Bartholomew of Sandwich. The words formed prophecies, visions of Sandwich's, that the Underlanders lived and died by. The first time Gregor had been in the room, that wall facing the door had been illuminated with a small oil lamp. That was where Sandwich had carved "The Prophecy of Grey." Now that area was in shadow. The lamp had been moved to the wall on his right. Above it was what looked like a poem. This must be it. "The Prophecy of Bane."

"Nah, Gregor. That was the Prophecy of . . . Brains," Mrs. Cormaci said dramatically.

Gregor lifted his torch to get a clearer view and began to read:

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.

"Well, that's downright cheerful," Mrs. Cormaci rolled her eyes.

HEAR IT SCRATCHING DOWN BELOW,

RAT OF LONG-FORGOTTEN SNOW,

EVIL CLOAKED IN COAT OF WHITE

WILL THE WARRIOR DRAIN YOUR LIGHT?

"Yes," Gregor mumbled to himself. "But not yet. And at a very high cost."

WHAT COULD TURN THE WARRIOR WEAK?

WHAT DO BURNING GNAWERS SEEK?

JUST A BARELY SPEAKING PUP

WHO HOLDS THE LAND OF UNDER UP.

"Hold on," Mrs. Cormaci said. "You've faced giant roaches, spiders, rats, bats, and you jumped off a cliff, and a baby could turn you weak?"

"Yep," Gregor nodded, thinking back to when he first saw Pearlpelt.

DIE THE BABY, DIE HIS HEART,

DIE HIS MOST ESSENTIAL PART.

DIE THE PEACE THAT RULES THE HOUR.

GNAWERS HAVE THEIR KEY TO POWER.

"What does that mean?" Grace asked.

"That if the 'baby' dies, so does Gregor's heart," Lizzie answered. "His most essential part."

Gregor didn't know what it meant any more than he had understood "The Prophecy of Gray." But his mind snagged on one phrase that chilled him to the bone: Die the baby . . . Die the baby . . . Die the baby . . . Boots . . .

"No," Grace whispered, shaking her head frantically. "Not Boots."

"Okay, I want to go through this whole thing. Right here, right now," said Gregor.

Vikus nodded. "Yes, I think it is wise we dissect the prophecy immediately. It is not as cryptic as the first, but there are things you must know. Shall we begin at the beginning?"

"That's normally where you start, yes?" Mrs. Cormaci asked.

He moved to the prophecy and brushed his fingers over the first two lines. "You have fresh eyes, whereas I have read this thousands of times. Tell me, Gregor, what make you of this?"

Gregor looked at the lines more closely this time . . .

IF UNDER FELL, IF OVER LEAPED,

IF LIFE WAS DEATH, IF DEATH LIFE REAPED,

. . . and realized he did know what they meant. "It's about me and Henry. I'm the Over, I leaped. Henry's the Under, he fell. I lived, and he died."

Luxa winced, turning her face into Gregor's chest.

"Yes, and King Gorger and his rats also died, reaping much life in the Underland," said Vikus.

"Hey, how come you didn't tell me about this before? Then maybe I would have known what was coming!" said Gregor.

"No, Gregor, it is clear only in hindsight. 'Under' could have referred not only to Henry, but to any other Underland creature, or the Underland itself. 'Over' could have been your father. Your leap may not have been a literal leap but a mental or spiritual leap. Henry's fall might have alluded to any variety of physical deaths, not to mention a fall from power or honor.

"Try both," Mrs. Cormaci spat bitterly.

In truth, a human Underlander literally falling to his death was not a popular interpretation. Henry never would have suspected he would die in such a way," said Vikus.

"Why not?" asked Gregor.

Vikus glanced at Ares and hesitated.

"Because he would have expected me to catch him," Ares said bluntly.

"Ouch," Mrs. Cormaci said, remembering Gregor's argument with the bat and Ares saying that he should've just let them both fall.

"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?"

Gregor read the next bit to himself.

SOMETHING RISES FROM THE GLOOM

TO MAKE THE UNDERLAND A TOMB.

"So, something bad is coming. Something deadly," said Gregor.

"No, Gregor. That's too obvious," Mrs. Cormaci rolled her eyes. "It has to be the big, fluffy Easter Bunny!"

"But it's a rat,"

"Fine. It's the big, fluffy Easter Rat,"

'Easter Bunny? Remember to ask Gregor about that,' Luxa thought.

"Not just coming. It is here, and has been here for some time.

"No, the Easter Rat is here! Hide your candy!" Mrs. Cormaci yelled.

Only the rats have concealed it, even from their own. You will find more about it in the next stanza," Vikus said, gesturing to the next four lines.

HEAR IT SCRATCHING DOWN BELOW,

RAT OF LONG-FORGOTTEN SNOW,

EVIL CLOAKED IN COAT OF WHITE

WILL THE WARRIOR DRAIN YOUR LIGHT?

Gregor studied the lines for a minute. "It's a rat. A white rat?"

"No, the rat's pink. That's why the prophecy compares it to 'long-forgotten snow'," Mrs. Cormaci snorted.

"The color of long-forgotten snow, for we do not get snow in the Underland. Although I imagine it to be very beautiful," Vikus said a bit wistfully.

"It is," Lizzie sighed happily. She loved the snow.

"It is," said Gregor. "There's snow everywhere right now. It makes everything look better." It did, too, when it had just fallen. It covered up the dirt and the trash, and for a while the city looked clean and fresh. And then it turned to slush. "So, this white rat . . . ?"

"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 remarkable in cunning,

Mrs. Cormaci scoffed. "Cunning? Not from what I've heard,"

strength, and size," said Vikus.

"Size?" said Gregor. "You mean it's even bigger than the other rats down here?"

"Considerably so," said Vikus. "As legend has it. And at this point in time, the only thing that stands between this creature and the Underland is you. The warrior. You are a threat to it. That is why the white rat has been so carefully concealed. The rats do not want you to find it. But you also have a vulnerability."

Vikus tapped the third stanza, and Gregor read on.

WHAT COULD TURN THE WARRIOR 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 wouldn't obey him," said Gregor. And suddenly he wondered how much the large, scarred rat who had helped save his father knew about all this.

"He undoubtedly said it sarcastically, and to remind them he was in charge.

Luxa frowned, annoyed.

For, to rats, a 'pup' is a baby. The only baby we know of who is close to you is Boots," said Vikus.

Now Lizzie frowned. "Nowhere was it said that the baby had to be close to Gregor. Only that it would turn him weak. Almost any baby could do that,"

"Gee, thanks sis,"

Gregor felt his eyes pulled to the last stanza of the prophecy.

DIE THE BABY, DIE HIS HEART,

DIE HIS MOST ESSENTIAL PART.

DIE THE PEACE THAT RULES THE HOUR.

GNAWERS HAVE THEIR KEY TO POWER.

"So, they think that if they" - Gregor could hardly say it - "kill Boots, something will happen to me."

'Something did happen to me,' Gregor thought. 'And they didn't even kill her.'

"It will break you somehow,"

Grace frowned. She remembered Gregor telling her that he had thought for a time that Boots was dead. 'He never told us how he reacted. I suppose we'll find out,'

said Vikus. "And if that happens, the rats will overtake the rest of us."

"No pressure or anything," Gregor said, but he felt very scared. "You're sure it's Boots?"

"As sure as we may dare to be. Your closeness to her is well known. That you sacrificed yourself, that you leaped rather than let King Gorger kill her - this made a great impression on everyone. Can you think of another baby it could be, Gregor?" Vikus asked solemnly.

Gregor shook his head. It was Boots. And they were right about one thing: If they killed her, something in him would break. "So, why did you bring her down here? Why didn't you just leave her in the Overland, where she was safe?"

"Because she was not safe. And neither were you. The crawlers watch you night and day, to protect you," said Vikus.

"See? I told you they were stalkers," Mrs. Cormaci said, exasperatedly.

Boots giggled. "Little bugs like you, Gregor!"

"That's nice," Gregor said, then added, "I'm officially creeped out now."

The roach he had trapped in the mayonnaise jar that morning flashed before his eyes. "You mean the little ones?"

"Yes, they are in communication with the larger ones below. But the rats watch you as well.

"Stalkers!" This from Mrs. Cormaci.

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.

Grace shuddered.

"It was not possible in your home. But today you ventured out with her very near one of the gateways."

"We went sledding in Central Park," said Gregor.

Then Ares spoke up. "The Overlander was chased in the tunnels by gnawers. He had to drop into the Waterway to escape them."

"Then the crawlers must have rescued Boots just in time. She was the rats' target today, Gregor," said Vikus.

Grace groaned. With Gregor telling her the story, it had never really gotten through to her how close she'd come to losing Boots. But now . . .

"Why not just kill me?" Gregor asked numbly.

Luxa stiffened in Gregor's arms. 'Why did he say that? That's an awful way to think!'

"They would have been happy to. But they have seen you leap and live to tell of it, so they are less confident in such a goal," answered Vikus. "And at the moment they are more concerned with the prophecy. It is by killing Boots that they mean to destroy you."

Gregor wondered how everyone would react to his reaction to Boots's "death". No one in this room, he realized with a start, had been with him after Boots had gone missing.

"I still think we would be safer in the Overland. We just won't go to Central Park. We'll keep Boots inside . . ." But Gregor wasn't really sure it would be safer.

"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 the white rat is killed. Only one may survive. Believe it or not, we brought her to the Underland to protect her," said Vikus.

"And to protect yourselves," Gregor said flatly.

"Yes. And to protect ourselves," said Vikus.

"Well, at least he's honest about it," Mrs Cormaci grinned.

"But as our destinies are intertwined, it seemed one and the same thing. So, what will it be? Shall we take you home, or will you play out your hand with us?"

Gregor thought about the scraping sounds he sometimes heard in the walls of their apartment. They made his mom nervous even though his dad said it was probably just mice. But what if it was rats? And what if they were just a few inches of plaster away, watching Boots? Watching and waiting and reporting to the giant rats below.

"Stalkers . . ." Mrs. Cormaci whispered loudly.

There was a skittering sound at the door. Gregor looked over to see Boots riding in the door on the back of a giant roach with a bent antenna.

"Ge-go!" She giggled. "I ride! Temp take Boots ride!"

She was so happy . . . and tiny . . . and powerless . . .

"I dunno' Gregor. She's got a pretty powerful voice," Ripred laughed, remembering when they had thought Boots would break the code.

"Oh, yes," Luxa added. "And the spinners loved her."

"About as much as they loved Gregor's root beer," Mrs. Cormaci snorted.

he couldn't watch her twenty-four hours a day . . . he had to go to school . . . and there was no one else to protect her . . . even he had been worthless today . . . if it happened again, the rats could kill her in a New York minute. Not even.

"We're staying," said Gregor. "We're staying until this thing is over."

Grace sighed. She just wished that no one in her family had fallen down to the Underland to begin with.


Another chapter! None of my lovely little comments in this one. Off to do the next one!

Oh, and updates will most likely be slower now because I start school tomorrow.