The stairway led into a large, man-made tunnel that appeared to be deserted. The air was heavy, cold, and dank. No sounds filtered down from the park, but along the walls there was a faint scampering of tiny mouse feet.
When he reached the last few steps, Gregor looked back over his shoulder at his dad, who was only about halfway down. "Take your time. He's not here yet."
The words had barely left his mouth when a sharp blow landed on his wrist and Gregor felt the flashlight fly out of his hand. He turned his head in time to glimpse a large, furry form leaping at him from the shadows.
The rat had been waiting for him.
CHAPTER 3
Gregor swung the crowbar, but the rat caught it in its teeth and yanked him forward. He was airborne for a moment before he slammed onto his stomach in the tunnel. The crowbar clattered into the dark as his hands barely kept his face from smacking into the cold cement floor.
"Gregor!" He could hear his father's anguished cry as the rat pinned him to the ground with its chest. Hot breath hit his cheek. He tried to swing backward but he was helpless.
"Pitiful. Just pitiful," a familiar voice hissed in his ear.
Gregor felt a wave of relief that was immediately followed by annoyance. "Get off me, man!"
The rat simply shifted into a more comfortable position. "You see, the second you lose your light, you're as good as dead."
The beam of the flashlight hit them. Gregor squinted and saw his dad approaching them with a chunk of concrete in one hand.
"Let him go!" shouted his father, lifting the concrete.
"It's okay, Dad! It's just Ripred!" Gregor squirmed to free himself but the rat weighed a ton. "He's a friend," he added to reassure his dad, although calling Ripred a "friend" was something of a stretch.
"Ripred?" said his dad. "Ripred?" His chest was heaving up and down, his eyes wild as he tried to make sense of the name.
"Yes, I try and give your boy survival tips but he just doesn't pay attention." Ripred rose and easily flipped Gregor over with his paw. The rat's scarred face was accusing. "You haven't been practicing your echolocation, have you?"
"I have, too!" shot back Gregor. "I practice with my sister."
This was true, although Gregor omitted saying that he mainly did it because Lizzie made him. She was extremely conscientious about homework. When she found out that Ripred had told Gregor to practice his echolocation, she took it very seriously. At least three times a week she'd drag him off somewhere in the building — the hallway, the stairwell, the lobby — and blindfold him. Then he'd have to stand there making a clicking sound with his tongue, trying to find her. The sound of his click was supposed to bounce off her, and somehow he was supposed to know where she was standing. But despite her best efforts, Gregor's echolocation skills weren't improving much.
Now, with Ripred getting on his case, Gregor felt defensive. "Look, I told you, that echolocation stuff doesn't work for me. Where's Vikus, anyway?"
"He's not coming," said Ripred.
"But he wrote me about 'The Prophecy of Blood.' I thought he was meeting us," said Gregor.
"And I thought you'd be alone," said Ripred. He sat back on his haunches and looked at Gregor's father. "Do you remember me?"
His dad was still clutching the piece of concrete, but it was down by his side. He stared at Ripred as if he were trying to remember someone from a dream. A long dream filled with hunger and loneliness and fear and the taunting of voices in the dark. Voices of rats. Like the one who sat before him. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the jumble in his head. "You brought me food. Down in the rat pit...you brought me food sometimes."
"That's right," said Ripred. "And did anyone here bring me food? I'm famished."
Ripred did look thinner than usual. His belly had shrunk down some and the bones in his face were more pronounced.
Gregor hadn't even planned to see Ripred, let alone feed him. But his hands automatically dug in his jacket pockets. His fingers found a stray fortune cookie from the night before and he pulled it out. "Here," he said.
Ripred reacted with exaggerated amazement. "Oh, heavens, is this whole thing for me?"
"Look, I didn't even know —" Gregor began.
"No, please. Don't apologize." Ripred's tongue darted out and flicked the cookie into his mouth. "Oh, yes, oh, my word," he raved as he chewed and swallowed. "I'm absolutely stuffed!"
"How come you're so hungry?" asked Gregor.
"Well, what with Solovet bent on starving the rats out —" said Ripred. Gregor vaguely remembered Ripred bringing this up at dinner in Regalia once. The humans had taken one of the rats' rivers or something.
"And having to feed that gluttonous baby you dumped on me —" said Ripred.
"The Bane?" interrupted Gregor. "How is he?"
"He's a royal pain, frankly. He eats three times as much as the rest of us, yet he can't seem to get the knack of hunting. If we don't feed him he whines. So, of course, we do feed him and then he grows another six inches and whines louder. Believe me, he's doing a lot better than I am," growled Ripred.
The rat found an old two-by-four by the stairs and began to gnaw on it. Strips of wood curled away from the board like apple peel.
"What about Luxa? Is she home?" asked Gregor, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"No, she's not home," said Ripred, a little less brusquely. "I have it on good authority that she's not being held prisoner by the rats. It's possible she did escape the Labyrinth but...I wouldn't be too hopeful there, if I were you."
Gregor gave a small nod. It had been months. If Luxa had escaped the rats, why wasn't she back in Regalia?
"And the others?" he said.
"Her bat's still missing. And the lovely Twitchtip's unaccounted for as well. Oh, you know who did show up? That crawler who was carting around your sister. What's his name, Tock...Ting...?" said Ripred.
"Temp?" said Gregor's dad.
"That's it, Temp. He got home a few weeks after you left, as good as ever. Spent some time in the Dead Land growing a new leg or two," said Ripred. "He's very excited about seeing 'the princess' again."
Gregor and his dad exchanged a look. Even if they could somehow convince his mom to let him go down, getting her to let Boots return to the Underland would be impossible.
Ripred caught the moment that passed between them. "Well, you do know she has to come back? I mean, you've read 'The Prophecy of Blood,' right?"
"I've read it," said Gregor evasively. "I'm just not sure what happens next."
"I'll tell you what happens next," said Ripred. "Vikus is sending a bat up to your laundry room at midnight. He expects you and your sister to be waiting for it. We all do."
"And if we're not?" asked Gregor.
"If you're not, there's very little chance of any warmblooded creature surviving in the Underland. There's a plague running around down there causing all kinds of trouble, or didn't you hear?" said Ripred.
"Yeah, that plague thing, that's not going to be a real plus when I ask my mom if we can go," said Gregor.
"The plague. Tell us about it," said Gregor's dad.
"Oh, it's some kind of pox," said Ripred. "High fever, pustules on the skin, eventually shuts down the lungs. They call it 'The Curse of the Warmbloods' because it only affects warmblooded creatures. The rats are dropping like flies. The bodies of a few bats who were scouts were found in the Dead Land. And nobody's heard from the nibblers yet."
"The nibblers?' said Gregor.
"Mice. That's what we call them. But listen, they've only had three plague cases in Regalia, and they're quarantined, so you'll be perfectly safe there. That's all we really need you for, the meeting in Regalia. All the warmbloods are sending representatives. Every creature's blood will be tested for the plague by the humans before they can participate. Just show up for that and you can go right home," said Ripred.