Everything was... wet, Gregor thought and uncomfortably twined, yet the fabric of his soaked clothes stuck to his skin like it was glued on.
His eyes jolted open and he froze in confusion, cautiously raising his hand to check whether he had really opened his eyes. Blinked once, twice, then tore them wide open. A swell of overwhelming panic at last hit him when he understood his eyes were as open as they could be, yet all that surrounded him was pitch-darkness.
His mouth opened yet out came no sound, then he sensed a cautious hand on his shoulder. "You awoke..."
Gregor cried and jumped back, disturbing the ankle-deep water he had been sitting in, and gritted his teeth in pain as he jabbed the palm of his hand on a sharp rock. "Who..."
"It is Dalia", the timid voice spoke again and Gregor released the breath he had been holding in relief.
Moments later he tensed up again. "What... where are we?" He raised a hand to cautiously feel the pulsating spot at the back of his head where the rock had hit him, "And where are the others?" Dalia was silent for a moment. All Gregor perceived was the quiet dripping of water, somewhere behind her.
"I don't know", she mumbled and his panic returned.
"W... what do you mean, you don't know?" He could not say how but Gregor pulled himself to his feet and nearly ran face-forward into the wall. He sensed the cold rock beneath his fingertips and cautiously followed it to get an impression as to where they were. To his horror, moments later, he ended up right where he had started. "We're... this...", he dug his nails into the stone and suddenly had to suppress tears. "... Trapped?"
Dalia's silence spoke for itself.
Gregor had never been one to give into fear easily. All his life he had been the oldest, the one expected to remain level-headed when his timid sister Lizzie was overwhelmed by panic.
His fingers gripped the stone firmly and he had to restrain himself to not hyperventilate. They were here, in this pitch-black, tiny hole, somewhere, miles beneath the surface, separated from the others, with no means to get out or even call for help. It was such an overused line, utilized in almost every horror title, and he had dismissively glanced over it more times than he could count. Only now that he found himself here, he understood its true horror – if he screamed now, nobody would hear.
Every single square foot of earth above him suddenly pressed on his chest, squeezing every bit of remaining air out of his lungs. Gregor leaned on the wall to calm his spinning head. He knew what this was. Lizzie had described the symptoms often enough. He pictured her small shape, cowered in a corner, trembling with fear.
His breaths grew rapid and he felt like he would throw up any moment. A bag – an image of the stash of paper bags they kept in the kitchen drawer for Lizzie flashed in his mind, but of course, he didn't have a bag.
I have to breathe, he adamantly clutched the wall. I always tell Lizzie to... to breathe. It helped a little yet he still felt sick to his stomach and retched, barely keeping his last meal down.
When a narrow hand placed on his back he jolted away from the wall. "Even breaths", the voice mumbled and a second hand placed on his other shoulder. For some reason the presence of another living being here with him caused his head to spin less. "Let us do it together", she spoke and Gregor registered her deep inhale. "And in, and out", she spoke, and although he felt as though his legs would give way any second, Gregor did his best to follow Dalia's rhythm. He blocked out everything else and heard only her calming voice, as she counted their breaths.
He didn't know how much time had passed but eventually, the sick feeling in his stomach abated and the rest of his senses returned to normal. Another eternal moment of silence passed before Gregor managed to speak – "I'm... I'm alright now." He swallowed and slowly turned, still nearly tripping over his own legs. "Thanks, I –"
He could not see Dalia's face in the dark, but he sensed her unease radiate from her body. "It was no problem."
"Hey!" He reached to grab her arm when she attempted to move away. His mouth opened but he could not phrase his swarming thoughts into words. Dalia understood regardless. She stopped moving and they eventually sank to the floor together, clinging to each other like a lifeline.
Gregor blinked out into the darkness yet when his senses returned he had to swallow another uprising lump of panic. He did not want to ask what they would do now, but... wouldn't he have to, at some point? Maybe it was not all so bad. They were at least together, and... he blinked and recalled Dalia had carried the hamper with supplies. Yes, his jaw firmly clenched, that and... the flashlight! It was in his backpack.
Yet when Gregor attempted to finger at the straps another swell of panic hit when he understood it was gone. "My backpack!", he cried, "That and... the... the supplies, do you...?"
Dalia tugged at his sleeve. "The hamper is... lost", she hesitated, "but your bag is here. Is there anything of use in it?"
Gregor cried in relief and fell forward, towards where she directed him, and when his fingers at last clutched the drenched material of his backpack, fingered it open, and grasped the rubber handle of his glorious, waterproof flashlight, he could barely hold back tears of joy. His finger found the switch and both of them winced when the bright beam suddenly illuminated their confinement.
Gregor's hand trembled as he shone the light around, and finally hit Dalia's astonished face. She squinted and he instantly lowered the light. "We have... the flashlight", he managed a smile, and in the dimmed beam, he saw she returned it.
Yet the longer Gregor spent looking around, the more his spirits dwindled. When the beam of his light illuminated a spot in the wall from which water continuously seeped into their pit, his heart sunk. He stared at the ground and for the first time properly registered they sat in ankle-deep water.
"There must be a water body nearby", Dalia stepped at his side and attempted to stuff a palm-sized rock into the rift. "Yet with the light, maybe we can find a way to climb out."
Gregor watched the rock she had squeezed into the rift quiver, then at last dart back out, followed by an even stronger jet of water. His gaze trailed up for an opening, yet all he saw was a steep wall. Then he glanced back at Dalia and dejectedly nodded. "Better than to sit around here."
Gregor had never been the best free-climber, he vividly recalled the climbing wall they had put up two years ago, in his school's gym. It was forbidden to use it without a teacher around but most of the kids in his gym class still frequently held competitions over who could get the highest. But ever since one of them had fallen and broken his arm, Gregor had taken to staying as far away from it as possible.
Now, he fervently clutched the flashlight between his teeth and stared straight up, inching forward on the steep wall.
"Over here!", Dalia suddenly cried, and when he turned he spotted her on a ledge, some five feet above. "There is something up there, but I need your light to see!"
Carefully, Gregor made his way up and pulled himself onto the ledge. Dalia took the flashlight from him and directed the beam at a narrow opening, maybe ten feet above. Gregor's heart sunk. "We can't reach that!", he exclaimed and clung to the stone wall, "and even if, it's directly in the middle of the ceiling!" Dalia did not look at him as she nodded.
Gregor clenched his teeth and dared to peek down. His old fear of heights tightened his chest as he spotted the glistening of the water, some thirty feet below. If I fall now, I'm dead instantly, he thought and swallowed. Then he suddenly blinked in something like surprise. "Hey! Why does the water here not glow? Doesn't all water down here have those special algae", he gesticulated vaguely, "you know, that makes it glow in the dark?"
Dalia looked at him, and for the first time, he properly made out her features beneath her wet strands of hair. She would be quite pretty, yet now looked gaunter and ghastlier than ever. "I don't know. Most water is bioluminescent, but perhaps under certain conditions, the algae doesn't grow."
The two stared out into the darkness for a while. Gregor's gaze soon trailed back up and as he squinted to make out something in the only opening they could see, he suddenly froze. "Hey, can I have the flashlight?"
Dalia handed it back reluctantly and Gregor narrowed his eyes, then moved the beam until it pointed directly up, into and through the opening. He faintly saw it being reflected from the stone beyond.
"Perhaps they will see...", Dalia had apparently understood what he had been aiming for and Gregor nodded. "If they're even looking for us." He held the flashlight as still as he could. His nails dug into the wet rubber. "If they're not..." He bothered not to finish the sentence.
And if my batteries don't die before they get here. He flashed back to the image of the single pair of spare batteries he had and suddenly eyed the flashlight with concern. From this day on he would always carry a full ten-pack of batteries no matter where he went in the Underland, Gregor grimly thought and attempted to chase the images of the rest of the party – of Luxa, of Ares, of the other bats, Howard, and the Death Rider – trapped as he and Dalia, injured. He could not bring himself to picture them dead.
"Was... was that an actual earthquake, then?", he broke the silence when he found he could not stand it any longer.
Dalia nodded. "They are quite frequent in the Firelands. One of the many reasons one would be ill-advised to come here."
"Well, maybe we shouldn't have come here then."
Dalia tensed and it took Gregor a second to understand. "I... I don't blame you for this or anything", he quickly assured, "I mean, it was my decision to come. Mine and Luxa's. Not yours. Please don't blame yourself."
Dalia said nothing, only stared straight ahead. Gregor could have slapped himself. She had probably saved his life, calmed him during that panic attack, and what was he doing? Making her feel guilty.
He fervently attempted to think of a way to distract her and realized he knew next to nothing about her. "So, you... you're, like, a servant for Howard's... eh, I mean York's and Susannah's family, right?", he voiced the only piece of information he had on her.
"I work for them, yes", she mumbled yet Gregor sensed her pungent unease.
"Well, I'm sure you picked a nice job there."
Dalia remained silent for a long time. Gregor watched the tensed muscles of her spindly hand clutch the seam of her nearly dry cape. "I stem from a family of miners", she finally spoke and Gregor frowned, failing to draw a connection between his remark and her reply, but remained silent when she continued – "we grew up by the outskirt of the city, and it... well, it was not a lush life, but it was alright. Yet then... I was... twelve. My parents and my two older brothers one day did not return home from work. My, back then two-year-old, brother Ian and I sat by the door the entire night, until the Lighthand came to wake the city." She looked back at him and Gregor thought he had seldom ever seen so much grim resolve. "None of them ever returned."
A cold shiver ran down his spine, and not from his still moist clothes.
"Later, I learned it had been an accident. A part of the mine had collapsed and... trapped them inside. They had not been able to rescue them."
"I'm so sorry." Gregor placed a hand on her shoulder and suppressed his own fear, to take in how she must feel at this moment. "We'll... get out of here, okay?" He ignored the flicker of the flashlight, indicating the batteries were low. "I'm sure they are already looking for us."
"From that day on I had to care for my brother", Dalia ignored him. "I found work in York's residence, as a simple maid at first. My senior at the time must have recognized potential in me. She offered to speak to the teacher of the school her children visited and that was that for five years, cleaning up after the nobles during the day, doing schoolwork at night. I graduated two years late, but I had excellent grades. And so when York looked for a governess to educate and raise Stellovet, my former senior vouched for me." Her eyes were narrow when she turned to him. "So, the job is certainly not something I picked for myself."
Gregor stared at her, only then recalled what he had said about her job, and found himself unable to come up with anything to respond. His mind suddenly flashed with images of himself, attempting to juggle schoolwork with taking care of his sisters and his mother, and his grip on her shoulder tightened. "Someday, it'll be better." It was all he could bring himself to say.
They sat in silence for a while, yet this time Gregor didn't perceive it as uncomfortable. Dalia's story repeated in his head over and over, and suddenly he found he had never related to anyone in the whole Underland more. Most people he had ever been around were considered special in one or another way. Luxa was the future queen, Howard and Nerissa were her relatives, they all had grown up with silver spoons.
Of course there was Mareth, but he too seemed fairly well-set. At least he was happy with his place in the world, and as close as he was to the royal family, it was sometimes hard to remember he wasn't part of them.
But Dalia... his gaze trailed to her and a wave of immense sympathy overwhelmed him. Dalia was not like them. She was... like Gregor. Not Gregor the legendary warrior, destined to save the Underland, but Gregor the stressed, overworked schoolboy who had been forced to grow up to take the place of his father far too quickly.
"You'll see", suddenly he wanted nothing more than to find a way to cheer her up. "One day, you'll find something or someone that makes you happy too, and then you can do what you like, instead of what you have to." It was what his grandmother had told him, Gregor gave her his most sincere smile, shortly before he had first fallen into the Underland. And now, it at least made Dalia return his smile, even if hers seemed a little forced.
"What is it they call you?", she finally addressed him after a few minutes of silence. "The... warrior?"
Gregor's jaw clenched. "Yeah. Apparently, Sandwich foresaw I'm supposed to save you all or something." He shrugged. "It's... honestly, I don't really like talking about it, if you don't mind."
Dalia's gaze burned on him. "You... do not seem like a warrior. You do not...", she cut herself off and shook her head. "Nevermind, I apologize. I should not diminish your skill before witnessing it."
"Don't worry", he waved dismissively. "For all that matters, I'm Gregor, your average, thirteen-year-old boy who –"
"HEY!"
They both winced and Gregor nearly dropped his flashlight at the echoing hall of a familiar voice from above.
"HERE!", he screamed and an all-consuming wave of relief overwhelmed him when he made out shadowy shapes beyond the hole. He waved his flashlight beam until a face finally appeared in the opening. "THEY ARE DOWN HERE!", the Death Rider yelled and disappeared out of sight, Gregor faintly heard him speak to someone. He and Dalia exchanged glances and this time, her smile was sincere.
Gregor carefully stood and raised his flashlight higher, ready to call out and ask how they intended to get them out when the beam flickered and went out. Fantastic, he groaned. What perfect timing.
It took Gregor some five minutes to successfully swap out the batteries in the dark, and another five for him and Dalia to climb the rope the Death Rider lowered through the opening shortly.
When the outcast at last grabbed him under the arms and lifted him through the hole onto solid ground, Gregor could have cried tears of joy. "MAN you guys were a hassle to find", the Death Rider shook his head as he heaved Dalia through the opening after him.
A second pair of hands suddenly grabbed Gregor by the arm and he stared into the concerned face of Howard. "I don't know how he did it, but he found you", Luxa's cousin muttered and finally locked Gregor in a hug. "We honestly thought you lost."
Gregor voiced his first truly relieved sigh since the earthquake and only let go of Howard to ask about the others. Luxa's cousin guessed the question before he could open his mouth – "A rock has torn Thanatos' wing and another injured Aurora's back. We others are all somewhat banged up yet there are no serious injuries." Another relieved sigh escaped Gregor and he closed his eyes. "Well, we are not. I do not know about either of you though. We will conduct a medical examination by our camp at once."
Gregor could not help but let out a joyous laugh. "Gladly."
All the way to where the rest of the questers had set up camp Gregor clung to the Death Rider's arm who confidently led the way in the light of the flashlight he had given him. Howard, with the powerless Dalia on his back, followed close behind.
After maybe ten minutes of silent walking the outcast switched off the flashlight and before Gregor could ask why he spotted a faint orange glimmer at the end of the tunnel.
"Welcome to the lake", the Death Rider shoved him through an opening into an enormous cave, "for all that's happened here, I really should have thought up a better name for it by now."
In the first moment, Gregor squinted his eyes from the sudden brightness, then as he took his first proper look around, his jaw dropped. "Wow", he muttered and stared at the magnificent, nearly perfectly round lake into which rushed a fast-streaming waterfall. Gregor barely had time to register it glowed not from algae but from the pool of magma located somewhere beneath when he was nearly mowed down by a speeding impact.
Two arms wrapped tightly around his neck and only from the overjoyed yet accusing "GREGOR!" she yelled into his ear he recognized Luxa.
Not long after he sensed the presence of Ares in his back and as soon as Luxa had, somewhat awkwardly, released him, he wrapped his arms around the neck of his bond. "I'm alright", he mumbled into his fur, "we're alright."
"And does "alright" want dinner too?", the somewhat mocking voice of the Death Rider sounded and only now Gregor registered the enticing smell of grilled fish and the furious growling of his stomach. "Oh yeah."
Yet before he could even lift a leg to go and eat Howard had him by the arm. "First we must check you for injuries."
He directed both Gregor and Dalia, who had stood on the side somewhat awkwardly, towards the campsite they must have set up earlier. As thoroughly as he looked, Howard soon found neither of them was seriously injured, though he did disinfect both Gregor's head and his hand, before wrapping them in a layer of bandages.
"You're really good at this", he smiled at Howard, and Luxa's cousin beamed back. "It is the most honorable of professions, to treat the ill."
Gregor nodded and for a second thought to his own job as warrior, and whether that didn't in fact directly clash with what Howard wanted to do. Then the Death Rider placed a flat stone with a grilled fish before him and all of Gregor's thoughts were immediately taken up by the food.
They finished up their meal in less than half an hour and Gregor soon began yawning. For the first time since they had joined this stupid quest, he felt contented and thought he was more than ready for sleep when Luxa suddenly turned to the Death Rider. "So, we are almost there, aren't we?"
His closing eyes darted open again. There. Gregor blinked, only then recalled this trip had a destination. The outcast nodded. "The arena is maybe half an hour of flying from here."
Gregor's so peaceful content instantly shattered. Fantastic, he stared at the remains of his fish. As if today hadn't been awful enough, tomorrow they would probably have to fight. They would reach the... Gregor frowned, and for the first time consciously registered they all referred to their destination as an "arena". Yet what kind of arena it was, nobody had explained.
Before he could ask, the Death Rider stood and announced they would spend a full seven hours here, to be rested for tomorrow. He assigned Luxa with first watch and handed her Gregor's flashlight, despite the lake illuminating their surroundings well enough. Dalia stepped forth and insisted on taking second. After short consideration, the outcast nodded and niftily tossed the remains of the fish they had eaten into the lake. "To bed then, you others!"
Gregor yawned then sighed, regarding the hilt of the sword that had miraculously remained in his belt throughout the earthquake. "Guess we'll be fighting tomorrow", he mumbled to himself and tugged at it.
"Not much of a fan of battles?", a voice asked from behind and he jolted around. There stood Dalia, she clasped her hands together and he noticed she must have tidied herself up. Her braid looked proper and clean again and she had washed the dirt off her face and hands.
Perhaps I should do that too, he thought and ran a hand through his messed, sticky hair, then chuckled. "Is it weird if I say yes, considering I am supposed to be the warrior?"
She smiled. "Well, kind of. Though... we often do not choose our fate, instead, it chooses us."
He grinned sincerely. "Tell me about it." He walked beside her to the lake, and thought as horrible as today had been, he at least had made a new friend. "I mean, I was planning to offer helping you with the dishes but I guess they were in the hamper, weren't they?"
She shrugged. "Yes. Though you don't have to."
"But what if I want to?" Gregor crossed his arms at the somewhat aghast Dalia. "You can't do all the work alone all the time. It's not fair." She was definitely one of the nicest Underlanders he had ever met, and suddenly he sensed the sting of how unfairly they all treated her almost like it was personal. "Hey, what do you say, next time we make Howard and Luxa do the dishes, okay?"
He grinned at her but all she did was avert her eyes. "I do not think it is appropriate to sit and watch as a future queen does your work."
"And I don't think it's APPROPRIATE to let one person do it all, just because they aren't born special!"
There were quite a lot of things Gregor liked about the Underland and its people. The whole monarchy part was not one of them.
She remained silent for so long Gregor eventually gave up and followed the call of the Death Rider to sleep. He still threw concerned glances back at Dalia who sat by the lake, so that he nearly ran into Luxa on her way to find a spot for her watch.
"You should go to sleep", she mumbled and walked a few paces before she sat down with her back against the wall. Gregor stepped at her side and marveled at the gorgeous view onto the lake the spot offered.
"I... wanted to ask you something." He suppressed a yawn and plopped down next to her. A glance in the Death Rider's direction showed he was all taken up by some hushed discussion with Thanatos. "So...", he turned back to Luxa, "what exactly is this arena we are going to? Do you know?" The only kind of arena Gregor knew in the Underland was the one in Regalia, where the humans conducted their training and played their ball games. But something in his gut doubted this arena would be anything like that.
Luxa regarded the outcast as well. "I... I did not know before he explained it when planning their route. They told us stories about the gnawer arenas when we were children, but I did not know they were real. The gnawers capture prisoners to have them fight each other, or designated champions, who do it of free will and for payment, to the death."
Gregor's eyes widened. "Y... you mean... like gladiators?" Luxa threw him a confused glance and he quickly shrugged. "A... a thing the Romans, an ancient Overland-civilization, used to do. Have prisoners fight to the death as some sort of spectacle, that is. The fighters were called gladiators."
Luxa nodded. "Maybe that is where the tradition comes from. Many of our customs and stories come from the Overland, much more than most of us think, I believe."
Gregor's gaze trailed back out onto the so serene-seeming lake and he sighed. A rat-gladiator-arena. That was one hell of a destination. As horrific as he found the mere mental image, a part of him thought he really shouldn't be surprised that was a thing. Well, at least we aren't going there to fight, he thought. Not that it helped much.
They sat in silence for a while, then Gregor's gaze trailed to the Death Rider. He had at last curled up with his head on Thanatos' back to sleep. "What... do you think happened to him?"
Luxa shrugged. "I have not asked. Maybe Howard knows, or... Stellovet."
Gregor nodded. "They sure have seen more of him than we, these last months. He... he has really changed. And... and I wouldn't say for the better."
"I... I don't know", Luxa shook her head, "I mean, on one hand, he seems to have found some way to handle his condition. He has not complained about it at all so far."
Gregor followed her gaze at him and involuntarily found he agreed.
"But I know what you mean", Luxa continued, "there is something to him... to his face. Like your face reveals you have braved the ordeals of three prophecies. You talk of how he changed, but you changed yourself, from when we first met. And quite a lot."
He gave her a somewhat awkward smile. "I mean, I think we all did. You too. For the better – I mean, not that you were BAD before, it's just now, you are... eh..." Gregor's face flushed and he energetically cleared his throat to suppress the sudden stammer. Dear God, why was he always so awkward, as of lately, whenever Luxa was around?
She laughed. "Yes. I am quite pleased with how I have changed as well."
"Yeah", Gregor joined into her laughter, "I mean, remember how you were on our first quest, with Henry? Making fun of the cockroaches, and that thing with Boots..." Even though he knew perfectly well the bats had caught her he still shivered uncomfortably at the memory.
Luxa remained silent, and when Gregor glimpsed at her somewhat tensed face he suddenly feared to have overstepped. She probably didn't like being reminded of Henry, and here he was, poking fun at the issue. But Luxa was quiet for an entirely different reason.
"I realize we must have seemed like bad people to you... and I am not trying to excuse everything we did, but...", her eyes darted up to meet his, "please do not judge us... Henry... only by what you have seen then. It... is hard for me as well sometimes, to remember him for more than what he... did, in the end, but then again, there are so many good things to remember. I try, you know?" She pressed her lips together. "To remember the good things. Because... if not I, who else will?"
Gregor averted his eyes for he could no longer bear the pungent melancholy in her stare. She was right. Who was he to talk? He had barely even known Henry. They had gone on exactly one trip together, and even then... Gregor could not recall having a single proper conversation with him.
And the more thought he gave it, the more apparent it became Luxa was right. Even he, when he thought of Henry, remembered only the bad things. Him attacking Ripred when they first met, despite the orders. Later trying to kill him in his sleep. And then his betrayal. His desperate cry for Ares as they had fallen together.
Gregor squinted to chase the image and his brows furrowed. That was all well but, it wasn't like he had seen much... good from him, in the short time he had known him. Or had he?
He caught a glimpse at Luxa's clenched jaw and decided to try. Try and prove her wrong. To remember something – anything – good about her cousin. His thoughts ran back to when he had talked to Mareth about the two, when he had found out the rats had killed Henry's parents, like Luxa's.
You must not take what they say to heart, the soldier's troubled voice spoke in his head, when their parents were killed, Nerissa became as frail as glass, Henry as hard as stone. A part of Gregor instantly felt sympathy, as he remembered he had back then. Then his brows furrowed. If they killed his parents, why had he sided with them then?
Gregor's frown deepened and he shook his head. This was not a memory to share. Then another image flashed in his head, Henry with a torch on his head, imitating the helmet Gregor had worn on that trip, and Luxa's carefree joke his hair was on fire.
The memory, strangely enough, made him smile, and suddenly it dawned on him what Luxa had meant. He sensed a surge of shame as he realized he had never given much thought to how close they must have been at some point, and his next glimpse at her was full of compassion.
Then, his mind reeled further back. The High Hall, his first dinner in Regalia – and his first encounter with Henry. Beware the fish, for Luxa plans to poison you directly! He recalled his friendly glance, the grip on his arm, his dramatically hushed voice, and the joke... Gregor blinked, Henry had been the first Underlander he had encountered with a sense of humor.
He determinately nudged Luxa. When he retold the incident, she laughed. "I remember this all too well. You know, if I would have had the means, I would have really poisoned you then."
Gregor grinned painfully and Luxa laughed before averting her gaze. "Thank you. For... for not judging me when I say I want to remember the good things, for even trying to remember them with me." Gregor smiled back.
They stared out onto the lake together and he thought maybe Luxa was right, maybe things weren't all black and white. Just as he had opened his mouth to respond another voice cut him off – "I am tempted to quote Hamnet's "telling old tales out of school?", right now, you two."
Both their heads jerked up to see the Death Rider to their left, hands on his hips. At first glance, he looked confident as ever, but then Gregor noticed his jaw was clenched and the cocky grin he had put on looked almost... forced. Gregor frowned, how much had he heard? And why... did an old story about Henry even phase him?
For a second he pondered whether they could have known each other. Well, they must have been around the same age, and he could certainly see them getting along, rebellious and outgoing as they both were. But... he shook his head, in that case, Luxa would have known the outcast too, as close as she and Henry had been... wouldn't she?
"Gregor was... about to go to sleep", Luxa shot him a glance from the corner of her eye and Gregor quickly scrambled up. "I really was!"
All the outcast did was raise an eyebrow. "Then go. Tomorrow will not be an easy day, so get some rest instead of distracting Luxa from her watch. Good night." Gregor's face flushed and he energetically nodded as he stumbled after the outcast who was already moving away.
"Hey, good night", he shot a last glance back at Luxa, "and please take care of that flashlight! It was expensive!"
"Oh, I certainly will", Luxa grinned and patted the pocket he saw it stick out of. "Good night, Gregor." In the dim light from the lake, he could just about make out she was smiling.
Gregor knew not exactly how long he had slept, but when Howard shook him awake and the enticing smell of grilled fish engulfed him, Gregor found he was well-rested enough. His body still ached from yesterday's ordeals and sleeping on the hard floor but he disregarded it as well as he could, to sit down with his fellow questers for breakfast.
To his surprise, when he looked at the outcast, expecting him to serve the food as he had done so far, Gregor found him cowered by the wall, close to Thanatos, with his hood pulled over his head, looking like he barely paid attention to what was going on.
Instead, Howard distributed the fish the bats must have caught in the lake. He had not bothered grilling it but at this point, Gregor cared little whether it was raw or not.
His gaze kept trailing back to the outcast and he wondered if something was wrong, if he perhaps knew something they did not. But he could not imagine what, so he eventually forced his mind off of it. To his eternal relief, Luxa soon broke the awkward silence – "Do we have some sort of plan, or are we just going to go for it?"
The outcast's head jerked up and for a second, Gregor thought he spotted a purple circle under his eye, but beneath the hood, his face was barely visible. "Eh, Thanatos and I gave it some thought yesterday", he fingered open a pocket and fetched his notebook, then finally moved away from the wall and laid it out before them. He had sketched the area around the lake, and Gregor anxiously bit his lip from how close the "x" labeled "arena" was to their location.
"As we have no idea where Longclaw will be, we will have to improvise for the most part." He exchanged a glance with Thanatos. "We do, however, know where they hold the prisoners." He pointed at another "x" on his drawing, a little south of the arena. "They will most likely be holding Stellovet there. I suggest we prioritize saving her and then go after Longclaw."
"So we do not even engage him if we can avoid it?", Luxa asked, and he nodded. "With some luck, they won't even notice us."
Within ten minutes they finished up their meal and Gregor helped Howard and Dalia gather and pack away the remains of their camp. He had not spoken to her yet this morning and attempted to remember whether he had seen her eat breakfast with them when the Death Rider called for departure.
They took their designated seats on the bats and Thanatos led the way out, away from the lake. Howard behind him remained quiet and Gregor thought he was not necessarily in the mood for a conversation either. Whatever this arena was, Gregor could not shake the uneasy feeling this would not go as smoothly as the Death Rider meant for it to go.
Was Howard anticipating a reunion with his sister? Gregor twitched and only in the last moment prevented himself from asking. Of course he did. It was the whole reason he had come. Gregor sensed a surge of shame when he realized he himself did not really look forward to seeing Stellovet.
Then again, hadn't he told himself to try and stop seeing the world in black and white, yesterday? Gregor stared down at his clenched hands. What did he know of Stellovet, even? He knew her less than he had known Henry, and yet he had already written her off as bad. Maybe, Gregor thought and gripped Ares' fur harder, maybe she had a reason.
The rest of the flight went by Gregor in a blur. He would not have been able to tell how much time had passed when they finally flew out into open space, and the Death Rider signaled them to land immediately.
All three bats touched down and Gregor frowned, then fingered at his backpack to fetch his flashlight as he saw almost nothing. There must be a light source in an adjacent cave as he found the darkness not all-consuming, but he still saw no more than shapes and shadows.
Only when he had already taken off his backpack Gregor remembered the Death Rider had given his flashlight to Luxa, for her watch. Yet when he spotted her ahead and asked for it she shrugged. "I gave it to Dalia when we switched watch. Take it back from her."
Gregor silently sighed and attempted to search for Dalia in the dark, but before he could spot her, someone had him by the shoulder. "Do not make light or they will spot us", the outcast mumbled and quickly rounded up the group. "The prisoners are close. Remain in place and make no sound."
Gregor nodded, though in the same breath asked himself how they were supposed to free Stellovet in the dark. Before he could open his mouth to voice his concern the outcast signaled to follow him and Gregor made out he pointed to the left, where he faintly saw the shape of a tunnel entrance.
The group pressed on, Gregor made sure to always keep behind the Death Rider and quickly grabbed Luxa by the arm to not lose her. She had her hand on the hilt of her sword, and he quickly eyed his own, contemplating whether it was worth drawing it preemptively.
Right when he decided it was not worth it just yet, Gregor recognized the shape in front of him was not the Death Rider but Howard. When he turned to search for the outcast, he made him out further back, he seemed to have fallen behind.
As soon as Gregor focused he made out he was staring back. Luxa at his side nervously twitched and even Howard halted, for the Death Rider did not lead the way anymore. But when Gregor attempted to spot what seemed to have captured his attention so, all he saw was the rest of the group, and the faint shadows of the bats circling above their heads. There were Howard and Luxa, there was the outcast, and – Gregor blinked when he registered someone was missing.
Or... not missing. He followed the Death Rider's gaze and spotted the slender shape of Dalia at last, but not with them all. She had remained behind, Gregor thought she hadn't even taken a single step forward.
He uncertainly took a step back himself and searched the gazes of the others. Maybe she was scared, Gregor recalled the tale of her family dying in the mine all too well. Maybe she could not see well enough to follow?
Only when he caught a first glimpse at the Death Rider's face, Gregor turned to unmoving stone. The outcast's expression, as he stared at Dalia, was a mix of shock, anger, and... something else, something Gregor couldn't put his finger on. He looked back at her himself, to see if something was wrong, and only now Gregor noticed her wiry fingers were tightly clutching something. Something elongated, something like –
"Don't..." Gregor jumped at the Death Rider's faint whisper. Under normal circumstances, it would have been barely audible, but in the dark, quiet cave, it rang loud and clear in Gregor's ears. "You don't –"
He never finished his sentence, for before he could, Dalia's arm raised the elongated item. It was his flashlight. His flashlight that had found its way to her from Luxa, his flashlight she now slowly pointed upward, then flicked the switch.
When the bright beam illuminated the giant cave, Gregor's mouth opened to call out for her to turn off the light. The Death Rider told us to keep in the dark, he thought. His gaze met the outcast's unmoving face... and only then it clicked.
Moments later he perceived the scratching of claws on stone from all sides, then a downright hoard of rats streamed into the cave. He spotted at least two in every entrance, their malicious grins emphasized by the eerie, artificial beam of the flashlight.
Only in his periphery, Gregor registered the rest of the party had frozen in their tracks. Luxa's hand was rigidly tightened around the hilt of her sword but even she dared not draw it at the sight of what must be at least two dozen opponents. Most of their faces showed confusion, the Death Rider alone stared at Dalia in a way that made it clear he knew exactly what was happening. What she had done.
Gregor winced when a huge brown mass of a rat shoved two others aside to step at Dalia's side. Gregor swallowed and had to prevent himself from taking a step back at the sight of the nearly seven-foot-tall shape with the thick, brown fur, and the long scar that tore his torso.
Dalia winced and nearly dropped the flashlight as one of his large paws placed on her narrow shoulder. "Bravo", he exclaimed and gazed around with satisfaction, "I must say I am impressed. A vast majority of my ever-skeptical friends here bet against you, but for as it seems, they are all here. The queen, the warrior, and my good friend Achilles – or, the Death Rider, how I hear you like to be called. All as requested. And all as planned."
Gregor blinked up at the massive rat and then back at Dalia who adamantly stared at the floor. Her nails dug so deep into the flashlight's rubber handle he thought she would tear it off soon.
"It looks like for as epically as Tonguetwist failed with your flier, Achilles, here, she succeeded. And now – SEIZE THEM!"
Gregor's head spun from all the confusing impressions that clustered it. Even as rats grabbed him by the arms he barely fought, all he did was glance back and forth between the rat and Dalia.
His mouth opened yet out came no sound. He recognized the scene perfectly well, yet a part of his brain refused to believe what he saw. All Gregor made out was the timid and gentle Dalia – she, who had saved his life in the earthquake. She, who had supported him during his panic attack. She, who... who nearly disappeared beside the massive brown rat. Was this Longclaw? Gregor could not tell for certain, but who else would it be?
A wave of unbelieving despair swept over Gregor. He stared at Dalia and suddenly he wanted to yell out at her to speak. To explain. A different scene flashed before his inner eye, a different human who had conspired with the rats. At least Henry had attempted to explain, he wished to yell. He had, even if poorly, attempted to justify what he had done. What had driven him. What has driven you?
Gregor shuddered at the memory of how much he had thought to understand her. He had seen himself in her, he gritted his teeth so hard his jaw hurt and squinted against the darkness, to catch a glimpse at the rats seizing the now diving bats. How could he have allowed himself such a terrible misjudgment?
"This is not going to go the way you think!"
Gregor winced at the desperate cry the Death Rider beside him suddenly sounded, before they were carried out of the cave, towards the light. The echo of his voice still rang in his head and Gregor asked himself who he had been talking to – Longclaw, or Dalia.
The rat only grinned after the party as they were dragged off, and energetically patted Dalia's back, so that the flashlight finally slipped from her grasp. Gregor caught a last glimpse at her before the flashlight cracked under the rat's massive paw... and everything went black.