Gregor the Overlander (Underland Chronicles, #1)

by Suzanne Collins

The lights shining from the city’s many windows gave it a festive look, and Gregor felt his heart lightening a little. New York City glittered all night long, too. Maybe this place wasn’t so foreign after all.

“Beware the fish, for Luxa plans to poison you directly!” Vikus and Solovet laughed, and even Dulcet smiled. It was a joke. These people actually had a sense of humor. “Beware your fish, Henry,” returned Luxa. “I gave orders to poison scoundrels, forgetting you would be dining as well.”

Shed slumped back against the cavern wall, but there was no fight left in him. His eyes burned into Gregor’s. “Overlander,” he gurgled, “we hunt you to the last rat.” And with that, he died.

“Then he has much courage,” said Vikus. “Courage without caution makes for early death, or so you tell me daily,” said Luxa. “So I tell you and do you hear?” said Vikus, raising his eyebrows. “You hear not as he hears not. You are both very young for deafness.

“I guess after tonight Boots won’t think the whole world is her friend,” thought Gregor. She had to find out sometime, but it still made him sad.

“These are the prophecies of Bartholomew of Sandwich,” said Vikus. “Once we sealed the gates, he devoted the rest of his life to recording them.” “I bet he did,” thought Gregor. It sounded like just the kind of thing crazy old Sandwich would do. Drag a bunch of people underground and then lock himself in a room and chip out more crazy stuff on the walls.

SO BID HIM TAKE CARE, BID HIM LOOK WHERE HE LEAPS, AS LIFE MAY BE DEATH AND DEATH LIFE AGAIN REAPS.

“You asked why the rats hate Overlanders so deeply. It is because they know one will be the warrior of the prophecy,” said Vikus. “Oh, I see,” said Gregor. “So, when’s he coming?” Vikus fixed his eyes on Gregor. “I believe he is already here.”

Despite all of his worries, and he had plenty, Gregor couldn’t deny a feeling of giddy happiness that shot through him periodically. His dad was alive! Almost instantly another wave of anxiety would rush over him. “Yeah, he’s alive but imprisoned by rats!”

Luxa was also there, looking tired and defiant. Gregor bet she’d been chewed out for joining the rescue party last night. He was sure she hadn’t acted one bit sorry.

“Well, I prefer to think of myself as a legend, but I suppose ‘guide’ will do,” said a deep, world-weary voice from the dark. Gregor shot his flashlight beam toward the sound. Leaning in the mouth of the tunnel was a rat with a diagonal scar across his face.

“Do rats love?” said Gregor dryly. “Oh, yes,” said Ripred with a smirk. “We love ourselves very much.”

“Look, I know it’ll be hard, but I’m sure the whole trip won’t be in such small tunnels. Right, Ripred?” “Oh, surely not the whole trip,” said Ripred, bored to pieces by the argument. “Can we start, please? The war will be over before we decide our travel plans.”

In dark, in flame, in war, in strife I save you as I save my life.”

“You must, Luxa, you have no choice. You must join with us or die,” said Henry coldly, but there was a tremor in his voice. “This is as good a day as any,” said Luxa. “Perhaps better.” She sounded a thousand years old and a thousand miles away, but she did not sound scared.

Gregor stepped back to face the crowd. He and Ares stood before them, hand still locked to claw. Gregor spoke with a power that was entirely new to him. “I am the warrior. I am he who called. Who among you dares banish Ares, my bond?”

He was done with the rule now. For good. Even if times got bad, he would never again deny himself the possibility that the future might be happy even if the present was painful. He would allow himself dreams.