Disclaimer: I own neither the Underland Chronicles, nor any miscellaneous tidbits or references I may use in this piece.

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All proceeds go to no one, because there aren't any.

Chapter

7

Gregor laid in bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it swirled in its lazy circle. He tried to follow one blade in particular, the one that was a little off center. He found this to be impossible, so he simply gazed at the tile behind the spinning blades.

It was so quiet in Virginia. There was no rattling, ambient noise, or light for that matter. No cars whizzing by his window at all hours of the night. No screaming drunk people stumbling down the sidewalk. Nothing.

The smell bothered him, too. It was so… clean out here in the middle of nowhere. It had been refreshing at first, but became tiresome and mundane. At least in New York, you might smell something different now and again.

Gregor heaved himself out of bed and sauntered into the living room. Lizzie was sitting on the couch with Boots, playing some game Boots had no doubt just made up.

Gregor peered out the window to catch a glimpse of the morning sun shining bright to the east. He let the warm light bathe him for a moment before heading into the kitchen.

His father sat at the table starring intensely at a chessboard. It appeared that he had begun a game against himself and was planning his next move. Or his next five.

Gregor plopped down across from his father and watched as the gears turned in the thin man's head.

"Saturday?" Gregor asked. He had stopped keeping up with days since he had gotten expelled. Usually, his father would have gone to the school by now.

"Yup." His dad sneered and moved a white pawn up two spaces. A weak move.

"Oh, c'mon Dad. You can do better," Gregor chided. He grabbed a black knight and took the bishop his father had left open.

His father tweaked an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" He moved another pawn into position, compromising Gregor's knight.

The match lasted a good twenty minutes from that point. It was a close battle, but eventually Gregor's dad won out.

"You're getting a whole lot better at this, kiddo," he said, a hint of smugness to his voice.

Gregor smiled. "Yeah, well I'll win next time!" He stopped cold, realizing that he was smiling for the first time in at least a month. He saw a deeply content expression on his dad's face.

"We could go again right now, if you're feeling so lucky."

Gregor shook his head. "Nah. I gotta help Lizzie and Boots set up the tent, remember. And with me doing it, that'll be an all-day job."

"You sure you don't need my help with that? It'd go a lot faster."

"I promised Boots that I'd do it. You know how she is with that kind of stuff. She's way too literal." Gregor said.

"Yeah, I guess." As Gregor stood to head out of the kitchen, his dad caught his wrist. "Oh, and Gregor? I'm glad to see you happy again."

Gregor couldn't contain another smile. "Yeah. Me too."

Hazard cocked his head, trying to make out the odd noises the poor creature was issuing. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to learn the language of the Spitters. He reached out and stroked the thing's excessively long, furry neck and spoke to it in his most soothing voice;

"I'm sorry, llama friend. I can't understand you, but I may be able to get a translator. Would you be open to waiting a few moments?"

The llama huffed impatiently, but nodded its head.

Hazard turned and jogged across the arena to his bond, Apollo.

"Do me a favor, Apollo," he said to the somewhat skinny golden bat. "Go get… uh… Oh, what's her name?"

"Riftwell?" Apollo supplied.

"Ah, thank you! Yes, Riftwell. She should be in the code room with Ripred." Hazard nodded.

"I don't think they'll take the interruption well." Apollo groaned.

"I know. Sorry, but we have to finish this trade deal with the spitters if we're gonna have enough marble for the new expansion, and Riftwell is the only rat I know who can speak to them."

Apollo dipped his head in agreement. "Very well. I will be back soon." He launched into the air and sped off towards the palace.

"Thank you!" Hazard called after him. Once Apollo disappeared from sight, Hazard pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to relieve the pressure in his skull. Ever since Luxa went missing, the trade responsibilities had landed on the nine-year-old's shoulders, and it was doing him no favors.

Once he regained his composure, Hazard turned and walked back to the spitter entourage. Thinking back on it, Hazard couldn't help but question Vikus's decisions on the division of labor. The old man himself would make a far better negotiator. Mareth had been placed in control of the military, Howard was the chief medical officer, and Nerissa was placed as acting queen. Even Dulcet had been given the honorary title of "Head of Internal Affairs." Hazard had no idea what that meant.

After a short while of effectively beating his head against a brick wall, Hazard caught sight of Apollo laboring under the weight of the generously proportioned rat Riftwell. As Apollo alighted, the gnawer slid off his back and approached Hazard and the llamas, making them even more anxious.

"What, what, what is so important that you would drag me away from my sweet Ripred in his time of grieving? Haven't you just lost your queen? You really ought to get your priorities in order, pup!" she complained.

Hazard shook his head. Grieving? Ripred barely cared that Luxa was gone. "Oh, she'll be fine," he had said. "She is a primary character after all."

Riftwell tapped her foot. "Well? Spit it out, boy. I don't have all day."

So Hazard began explaining the situation to the big rat. But before he could finish, Apollo's head shot up. Hazard snapped to attention. "What is it?"

"Theseus. He comes with grave news" Apollo moaned.

From a nearby cave, a teal-colored bat erupted forth. "Master Hazard! Master Hazard, you must listen!" He shouted, fluttering up to the boy. "It is terrible! Simply terrible! We must prepare! Oh, we are just not ready!"

Hazard grabbed the bat's shoulders and calmed him. "It's all right, Theseus. Now, tell me what you found."

After he caught his breath, the bat looked into Hazard's eyes, fear spilling out of him like a flooded river.

"The cutters, Master Hazard. They have begun their advance toward the Fount. And once they are done there, they will strike here."

"The Underland is in danger!"

It's starting to get good!

So two questions for you guys:

Who do you want for the perspective swap for next chapter?

And do you want the two storylines to intertwine? (In other words, do you want Gregor to fall, or to stay where he is?)

It's all up to you!

Hell, we could have Gregor running through the woods. Y'know, from Shia LeBouf?

My goodness, I just realized that this format doesn't keep my dividers... Wow, that sucks.