"How do I know I can trust you?"

Gregor's voice is tight. Isn't it peculiar, how guarded he's become? But the world is slipping out between his fingers. All the things he wanted to do for naught.

"I give you my word," Ripred says. Which isn't much because words can never really keep somebody safe. Oh, he knows. He's been there, done that. Lived and wished he had died.

"As a rat?" The boy's tongue is bitter. His brows pulse with tension. This is the last thing he ever wanted — all of his family, sitting ducks where the war is waged rather than nice and safe at home. Ripred knows that. He knows and he's been there, too.

Thought, In a war, we'll never be safe.

He had sworn that it had to change. The death and the carnage. The fact that, no matter one's utmost efforts, there was no such thing as complete security.

"As a rager," he says. "As one rager to another."

Because you are not the only one, warrior boy, and you are not alone in this.

And had it been Ripred's family, he's not sure he would have taken that promise. After all, he tried. And the rager, war machine, one-man army, drowned so quickly anyway and left just a rat.

But Gregor hasn't felt that sting yet. And Ripred will make sure he never does. "I will get them home."

Gregor hesitates. The weight cuts lines through his face. Then the horns go blowing. Ripred cocks his head. "The rats have reached the wall to the north. The ones that surround the farmlands." So, what will it be, boy? Will you put their lives in my paws? "What do you say, Gregor the Overlander? Do we have a deal?"

"Yes."