Chapter 3: First Contact
"I'm… I'm glad I'm here, Mom." Lizzie felt her mother's hug tighten, but only for a moment.
"I'm glad you're here too, sweetie. I missed you… so much."
"And what I'm doing, it's important. And Gregor and Boots… we're all helping people. People who really need it."
"Just… promise to stay safe."
"I will."
Reluctantly, Lizzie left the hospital. She passed Hermes, the bat that got hurt bringing her to the Underland. Some of his bandages had been removed, his orange fur was clean and glossy, and he was stretching his wing as a doctor watched. Hopefully he'd be better soon.
She hurried back to the Code Room. She visited her mom at least twice a day, and no longer needed anyone to show her the route, even with the palace growing more crowded. The team had started noticing hints of a possible trick to the Code. Some of their simpler efforts almost felt like they should work, with bits and pieces of what were almost words. She knew they would break this.
Solovet noticed the moment Gregor and Ripred entered the war room, and she fixed a glare on the boy. "I hear you arranged for Cleft to sneak food to Commander Fourclaw. Despite the gnawer refusing to answer my questions."
"She doesn't know anything about the Code," Gregor said, assertive but not defiant. Solovet was secretly impressed at his growing maturity and confidence, but she made no sign of it. She simply let him keep talking. "I believe her. The rats are too smart to spread a secret like that to anyone who doesn't need to know. So only the ones that actually send and receive messages know the secret to the Code of Claw. We were starving a rat who can't move the back half of her body, but she just doesn't have answers."
"We" he says. Not "you." Is this just clever diplomacy on his part, or does the boy view our purposes as fully aligned? Either way, it's a good sign. "Ensure that no one else learns of your meddling, and I will tolerate it. My authority will not be undermined if discretion is maintained."
Gregor stood flabbergasted, and everyone else showed subtler signs of surprise. Everyone expected her to overrule Gregor, perhaps even punish him. But the fate of a crippled rat without vital intel meant less to her than the continued cooperation and dedication of her Warrior, who knew every day might be his last.
"You did not come here to discuss that minor issue with me," Solovet said, "and your expression was jubilant when you entered. Give me your report."
Gregor smiled… and closed his eyes. Ripred used his tail to spin the boy a round a few times, then Gregor made a sharp click with his tongue. His arm shot out. "The table is there." Another click, and his other arm pointed. "And that's the food cart." Two more clicks, and the boy turned to face York. "And there's no mistaking York . I can't recognize specific people yet, but you're a head taller than anyone else in here.
York stepped forward, grabbed Gregor's upper arm, and squeezed hard. The boy's eyes snapped open, and he looked at the towering man in confusion. But York smiled in pride. "Are you sure your arm is relaxed, little man?"
Gregor smirked. "I've been work'n out. A lot. Plus, Trent and Kleave convinced me to wear my armor during all my training. Even running and climbing."
The Captain took a step back… and bowed. "I commend you. You have learned a skill no Underland human can boast, and you push your body to the limit at the same time. You could easily have kept up with my Howard in his prime. He now saves lives with medicines and bandages instead of a sword, but you are both doing the same work. Thank you."
Solovet took charge. "If your echolocation has advanced to the point where you can detect who is the tallest person in the room, you no longer require Ripred's direct involvement. Continue to perform your physical training in darkness, but first I would have you spend the day with my husband. He has wished to speak with you, and you can practice your echolocation while with him."
The warrior nodded respectfully, closed his eyes again, and strode out.
Gregor's walk with Vikus was a delightful mix of familiar and new. The old man was the first Underlander to prioritize Gregor's interests, and he still spoke with hope and optimism that peace might come. He seemed much more tired, but far from broken. And as they walked, Gregor kept his eyes closed. Finding his way to the High Hall was tricky, since he insisted Vikus stay a bit behind him so he could navigate without help. To his mind's eye, people were indistinct shapes, but the walls were crisp and clear. A bat gave them a ride down to the city streets, and they walked through the city for a time. This new sense was fascinating, and though less detailed than sight, it allowed him to detect objects in every direction. Occasionally, children would whisper questions to the parents about the strange Overlander making clicking sounds and walking with his eyes closed. But Vikus would say, "The warrior is learning to see as fliers do. Darkness will not prevent him from defending us."
A small crowd started to gather and follow them, and Gregor focused on the details of each person. He still couldn't "see" their faces, but he soon got better at telling adults from children, knowing who was armed, who wore armor, and if anyone carried packs. But as they neared the fields, Vikus reminded the crowd that there was much urgent work to be done. Their gratitude to the warrior was commendable, but the evacuation needed their full attention.
Once they were alone, Vikus asked, "What think you of this change in Solovet?"
Gregor opened his eyes. "You noticed?"
"She is my wife, " Vikus said with a little smile. "She still commands with power, authority, and harsh pragmatism… but she gives your words more weight than I would expect."
Gregor thought back to that day in the museum, and a wave of embarrassment washed over him. Gregor the Overlander, warrior of Prophecy, who had been through so many dangers and endured injury over and over… crying and shaking and afraid to die.
But it was also such a real and honest moment, when he let himself accept just how much he wanted to live. And if not for his breakdown, if not for Solovet seeing him in such a weak state…
"Solovet and I talked about the prophecy. I was… scared… and sad. I cried. By the end of the conversation… I was strong again. Ready to stick with this to the end. And she promised to show gratitude. 'By his hand your fate is made.' The prophecy says that, right? She decided that my decisions and suggestions are worth respecting."
"I have respected you from the start," Vikus said. "But it is a great relief that my wife has, at last, come to see you the same way. Our dear son suffered terribly, and ultimately died far from home, because Solovet believed he would be strongest if treated like a weapon. I expected her to treat you the same way."
"She still does, kinda. She wants me to do this. She needs me to die. She just remembers that her weapon… is also a kid. A kid that chose this."
Much of the field had already been harvested, and the pair reached the vast stretch that was now bare soil. Gregor was about to close his eyes again… when he felt a slight tremor in the ground. "What's that?"
"I hear nothing," Vikus said, coming to a halt.
"Not hear, feel ."
About fifty yards away, dirt started to cave in.
Then a monstrous claw broke the surface.
Easily three feet long, Gregor couldn't quite believe what he saw.
"That is no gnawer," Vikus whispered.
Then the old man broke into a slow run…
… toward the gigantic claw.
"Wait!" Gregor shouted, dashing after him. "It's not safe!"
"I can think… of only… one species… with such large claws…"
Gregor's heart rate hadn't even sped up by the time they drew close to the spot, but Vikus was doubled over, gasping. Four tremendous creatures had climbed up out of the ground, and dirt cascaded off of them. Far heavier than gnawers, their paws had five tremendous claws. Their front paws especially were simply massive. Their noses had big, creepy masses of fleshy tendrils, almost like flower petals.
"Diggers," Vikus managed to say, still fighting to catch his breath. "Moles."
Gregor stepped forward. Of all the creatures he'd seen in the Underland, only the stingers were as big as these moles, and only the serpents of the Waterway were larger. But he wasn't afraid. Vikus wanted to talk to them.
Since he couldn't yet, Gregor would.
Grrrzzgll sniffed deeply, taking in the strange scents. It had been generations since any of her people set paw in their ancient homeland… or smelled a killer. Her three companions seemed even more overwhelmed than she. The strange, soft, rich soil was such a rarity in the Underland, and nearby were a great many plants that smelled edible. The killers had changed much.
But the two killers close at hand did not fit Grrrzzgll's expectations. A young boy and an old man, both carrying swords, but neither preparing to fight. They had rushed toward the diggers, but made no move to attack. And the boy…
His coloring was… wrong . Eyes, hair, and skin were unlike the old man, who matched the descriptions in the ancient tales. The boy did not seem afraid, or angry… only curious. "Hi there. I think I met a friend of yours back home. I'm from the Overland."
He held out his hands for the others to sniff, but Grrrzzgll hesitated. The Overland? If the killers had allied with the humans of the Overland, then war might be hopeless. The gnawers had failed to conquer the humans despite centuries of war. With the might of the Overland getting involved…
But still, the boy took no aggressive action. He stood there, not resisting as the moles loomed and sniffed and prodded him with their tentacles. They outweighed the skinny human dozens to one, but he stayed calm and passive.
Grrrzzgll rumbled a low command that the others remain peaceful… for now.
A furry winged creature that must be a flier soared overhead, carrying another killer. Both looked startled, but when the man on the ground shouted, "Bring Hazard at once!" they flew off.
Then the man spoke. "I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to see your kind, alive and well."
Were those… tears? Was this old killer… crying?
"The sins of our ancestors plague us to this day, and I wish more than anything that I had been there back then. I am Vikus, head of the Regalian Council, and I am the foremost proponent of peace."
Was this… deception? The gnawers had substantiated all the diggers' old hatreds, insisting the humans were monstrous conquerors who enslaved the fliers and treated other species as inferior. But the gnawers had been rivals of the diggers in the ancient past. The size, deadliness, and geographical advantages of the moles prevented outright war back then, but it was at least possible the rats were lying about modern killers.
"Right now, my people face a deadly conflict," Vikus said. "The Bane attempted to exterminate the entire nibbler race, succeeding at murdering all but nine hundred. Remembering the crimes of our predecessors, my people have declared war to prevent such a tragedy from repeating. Even now, we battle the Bane's forces, while moving the nibbler survivors to the city behind me where they can be safe. I deeply wish we could make amends to your people promptly, but I feel it might be best for you to hide yourselves until this war is over. Once we have successfully defended the nibbler nation from the Bane, I wish to personally oversee negotiations with your people. This land was once yours. If coexistence is possible, and your numbers are not great, could we perhaps share this place?"
Grrrzzgll's thoughts swirled, and her mate, Ixtthathlel, seemed baffled. The other two members of her party did not speak the killer language. Most diggers did not. She entered a whispered conversation with the others, and the confusion only deepened. Could it really be true that the killers had changed their ways? Would they really rejoice to learn the diggers survived the ancient tragedy? Were modern gnawers attempting the same crime as humans of the distant past?"
The flier from before arrived, and an even younger boy dismounted. "Oh! It is true! Diggers! I am so happy to meet you!" He hurried forward. "I am Hazard! I know many languages. Not digger, sadly, but most others."
Grrrzzgll squeaked an introduction in heavily accented gnawer, and the boy nodded. In the same language, but far more fluently, the obvious word weaver conversed with the four diggers, asking their names, complimenting their skill in a tongue they only recently learned, and asking if there was anything that could be done to make them more comfortable. Testing the sincerity of the offer, Grrzzgll asked permission to taste the strange plants growing nearby. Hazard translated, Vikus agreed, and soon all four moles munched on the rich and satisfying grains. More humans had gathered by now, but all kept their distance.
Until a flier with fur the color of dried blood landed nearby. The woman on its back sprang down, spry for her age, and approached. "You come at an inconvenient time," she said. "Your people deserve a formal audience with our council, gnawer attacks intensify. If my army fails to beat them back, my people and the nibblers may be wiped out. This war must come first. And we would not have you caught in the middle. Further… I must object to you digging tunnels that the gnawers might use to reach my people."
Thus far, Grrrzzgll's team avoided giving Vikus or Hazard any hint of their alliance with the Bane. Drrittzjl doubted the human claims, Fttznit believed them but still felt the killers' land should be seized by force, and Ixtthathlel suspected these humans spoke the truth. Grrrzzgll thanked Hazard for speaking with them, and announced that they would return when the time was right. As Hazard translated for the others, all four diggers returned to their tunnels. It took work, and no gnawer would be able to use these paths, for unlike elsewhere in the Underland, the tunnels here did not stay open. Thick, heavy soil collapsed behind them as they dug.
Hours later, they reached the secret chamber that none but diggers were permitted to enter. The gathering place their people had chosen for the war.
Grrrzzgll and the others spoke long, and they were cross examined at great length. Their depleted and exiled people had finally returned to the lands of their ancestors with the goal of vengeance, and of reclaiming what was once theirs. But the words of the humans threw them into turmoil. Things had been so simple: Kill the killers, take back the homeland. But now, doubt hung over all.
At last, their people had divided into three factions.
Some believed the humans, denounced the Bane's plan of genocide, and refused to take any further part in the war. They would wait, hoping for human victory, that afterward there might be hope of peaceful coexistence. The killers of antiquity were long dead, and their descendants fought to prevent the annihilation of a species.
A second faction didn't know who to believe, so they would wait until the war's end, and ally with the victors.
The final, largest faction, would hold to their purpose. They would fight alongside the gnawers, and take the homeland by force.