Gregor the Overlander - 1 (4 page)

The crowd, which had been amazingly quiet since their appearance, broke out in appreciative laughter. Gregor felt a little more confident. At least he wasn't the only one who'd looked like an idiot. "Faked them out," he said to Boots.

Luxa's gaze was icy, but Gregor saw Vikus trying to suppress a smile as he walked up.

"So, you said something about a bath?" he said to Luxa.

"You will follow to the palace
now,"
said Luxa crossly. She flicked her hand, and her golden bat swept down behind her. Just as it was about to crash into her, Luxa leaped in the air.

She lifted her legs straight out to the sides and touched her toes in a move Gregor thought he'd maybe seen cheerleaders do. The bat ducked under her, and she landed on its back easily. It arched up, missing Gregor by inches. Then it righted itself in the air and sped out of the stadium.

"You're wasting your time with that stuff!" called Gregor, although Luxa was out of earshot. He felt angry with himself because, in fact, he had to admit this girl had some moves.

Vikus had heard him, though. His smile broadened. Gregor scowled at the old man.

"What?"

"Will you follow to the palace, Overlander?" asked Vikus politely.

"As what, your prisoner?" said Gregor bluntly.

"As our guest, I hope," replied Vikus. "Although Queen Luxa has no doubt ordered the dungeon readied for you." His violet eyes literally twinkled, and Gregor found himself liking the man in spite of him self. Maybe because he was pretty sure Vikus liked him. He resisted the temptation to smile.

"Lead the way," said Gregor indifferently.

Vikus nodded and waved him toward the far side of the arena. Gregor followed a few steps behind him, towing Boots.

The stands were beginning to empty. High in the air, the people filed out through exits between their bleachers. Several bats still wove around the stadium doing aerodynamic maneuvers. Whatever game had been in progress had ended when Gregor arrived. The remaining bats and riders were hanging around to keep an eye on him.

As they neared the main entrance of the stadium, Vikus dropped back and fell in step with Gregor. "You must feel as if you are trapped in a dream, Overlander."

"I was thinking nightmare," said Gregor evenly.

Vikus chuckled. "Our bats and crawlers -- no, what is it you call them? Cockhorses?"

"Cockroaches," corrected Gregor.

"Ah, yes, cockroaches," agreed Vikus. "In the Overland, they are but handfuls while here they grow largely."

"How do you know that? Have you been to the Overland?" said Gregor. If Vikus could get there, then so could he and Boots.

"Oh, no, such visits are as rare as trees. It is the Overlanders who come at times to us. I have met six or seven. One called Fred Clark, another called Mickey, and most recently a woman known as Coco. What are you called, Overlander?" asked Vikus.

"Gregor. Are they still here? Are the other Overlanders still here?" asked Gregor, brightening at the thought.

"Sadly, no. This is not a gentle place for Overlanders," said Vikus, his face darkening.

Gregor stopped, pulling Boots up short. "You mean you killed them?"

Now he'd insulted the guy.

"We? We humans kill the Overlanders? I know of your world, of the evils that transpire there. But we do not kill for sport!" said Vikus severely. "Today we have taken you in among us.

Had we denied you, count on it, you would not be breathing now!"

"I didn't mean you ... I mean, I didn't know how it worked here," stammered Gregor.

Although he should have guessed that it wasn't very diplomatic to suggest Vikus was a murderer.

"So, the roaches would have killed us?"

"The crawlers kill you?" said Vikus. "No, it would give them no time."

There was that expression again. What did it mean to give the roaches time?

"But no one else even knows we're here," said Gregor.

Vikus looked at him gravely. Concern had replaced his anger. "Believe me, boy, by this time, every creature in the Underland knows you are here."

Gregor resisted an impulse to look over his shoulder. "And that's not a good thing, is it?"

Vikus shook his head. "No. That is not in any manner a good thing."

The old man turned to the exit of the stadium. Half a dozen pale, violet-eyed guards flanked two gigantic stone doors. It took their combined efforts to push the doors open a few feet and to allow Vikus to pass.

Gregor led Boots through the doors, and they closed immediately behind him. He followed Vikus down a tunnel lined with stone torches to a small arch filled with something dark and fluttery. Gregor thought it might be more bats, but on closer inspection he saw it was a cloud of tiny black moths. Was this what he had passed through when he stumbled into the stadium?

Vikus gently slid his hand into the insects. "These moths are a warning system peculiar to the Underland, I believe. The moment their pattern of flight is disturbed by an intruder, every bat in the area discerns it. I find it so perfect in its simplicity," he said. Then he vanished into the moths.

Behind the curtain of wings, Gregor could hear his voice beckoning. "Gregor the Overlander, welcome to the city of Regalia!"

Gregor glanced down at Boots, who had a puzzled look on her face. "Go home, Ge-go?"

she asked.

He picked her up and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring hug. "Not now, baby. We have to do some things first. Then we'll go home."

The velvety wings brushed past his cheek, and he caught his first sight of Regalia.

"Wow!" he said, stopping in his tracks.

Gregor didn't know what he'd expected. Maybe stone houses, maybe caves -- something primitive. But there was nothing primitive about the magnificent city that spread before him.

They stood on the edge of a valley filled with the most beautiful buildings he'd ever seen.

New York was known for its architecture, the elegant brownstones, the towering skyscrapers, the grand museums. But compared with Regalia, it looked unplanned, like a place where someone had lined up a bunch of oddly shaped boxes in rows.

The buildings here were all a lovely misty gray, which gave them a dreamlike quality.

They seemed to rise directly out of the rock as if they had been grown, not made by human hands. Maybe they weren't as tall as the skyscrapers Gregor knew by name, but they towered high above his head, some at least thirty stories and finished in artful peaks and turrets.

Thousands of torches were placed strategically so that a soft, dusky light illuminated the entire city.

And the carvings ... Gregor had seen cherubs and gargoyles on buildings before, but the walls of Regalia crawled with life. People and cockroaches and fish and creatures Gregor had no name for fought and feasted and danced on every conceivable inch of space.

"Do just people live here, or roaches and bats, too?" asked Gregor.

"This is a city of humans. The others have their own cities, or perhaps 'lands' might be a more accurate word," said Vikus. "The majority of our people live here, although some dwell in the suburbs, if their work so dictates. There stands our palace," said Vikus, directing Gregor's eye to a huge, circular fortress at the far edge of the valley. "There we are headed."

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.

"It's really great," he said. He would have loved to explore it, if he didn't need to get home so badly.

"Yes," said Vikus, as his eyes took in the city fondly. "My people have much love of stone. Had we time, I think we might create a land of rare beauty."

"I think maybe you already have," said Gregor. "I mean, it's way more beautiful than anything in the Overland."

Vikus seemed pleased. "Come, the palace has the fairest view of the city. You will have time to admire before we dine."

As Gregor followed him down the road, Boots tilted back her head, turning it from side to side. "What'dyou lose, Boots?"

"Moon?" said Boots. Usually you couldn't see the stars from where they lived, but the moon was visible on clear nights. "Moon?"

Gregor looked up into the inky black sky and then realized that, of course, there was no sky. They were in some kind of gigantic underground cavern. "No moon, little girl. No moon tonight," he said.

"Cow jump moon," she said matter-of-factly.

"Mm-hm," agreed Gregor. If roaches talked, and bats played ball games, then probably there was a cow jumping a moon somewhere, too. He sighed as he pictured the tattered nursery rhyme book in the box by Boots's crib at home.

People stared openly at them from the windows as they passed. Vikus acknowledged a few, nodding or calling out a name, and they'd raise their hands in greeting back.

Boots noticed and began to wave. "Hi!" she called. "Hi!" and while none of the adults answered her, Gregor saw a few little kids wave back.

"You hold great fascination for them," said Vikus, indicating the people in the windows.

"We do not get many visits from the Overland."

"How did you know I was from New York?" asked Gregor.

"There are but five known gateways to the Underland," said Vikus. "Two lead to the Dead Land, but you would never have survived those. Two gateways open into the Waterway, but your clothing is quite dry. You are alive, you are dry, from this I surmise you have fallen through the fifth gateway, the mouth of which I know to be in New York City."

"It's in my laundry room!" Gregor blurted out. "Right in our apartment building!"

Somehow the fact that his laundry room connected to this strange place made him feel invaded.

"Your laundry room, yes," said Vikus thoughtfully. "Well, your fall coincided most favorably with the currents."

"The currents? You mean that misty stuff?" asked Gregor.

"Yes, they allowed you to arrive here in one piece. Timing is all," said Vikus.

"What happens if the timing is off?" asked Gregor, but he already knew the answer.

"Then we have a body to bury instead of a guest," said Vikus quietly. "That, in truth, is the most common outcome. A living Overlander like yourself, plus your sister, well, this is most singular."

It took a good twenty minutes to reach the palace, and Gregor's arms began to tremble from carrying Boots. Somehow he didn't want to put her down. It didn't seem safe with all the torches around.

As they approached the magnificent structure, Gregor noticed there was nothing carved on it. The sides were as smooth as glass, and the lowest window opened two hundred feet above the ground. Something was off, but he couldn't quite place it. Something was missing. "There's no door," he said aloud.

"No," said Vikus. "Doors are for those who lack enemies. Even the most accomplished climber cannot find a foothold here."

Gregor ran his hand along the polished stone wall. There wasn't a crack, not even the tiniest nick in the surface. "So, how do you get inside?"

"We usually fly, but if one's bat cannot accommodate ..." Vikus gestured above his head.

Gregor craned his neck back and saw that a platform was being rapidly lowered from a large, rectangular window. It caught on the ropes that supported it about a foot from the ground, and Vikus stepped aboard.

Gregor climbed on with Boots. His recent fall to the Underland had only reinforced how much he disliked heights. The platform immediately rose, and he grabbed hold of the side rope to steady himself. Vikus stood calmly with his hands folded before him, but then Vikus wasn't holding a wiggly two-year-old, and he'd probably ridden this thing a million times.

The ascent was rapid and even. The platform leveled off at the window before a small, stone staircase.

Gregor carried Boots inside a large room with vaulted ceilings. A group of three Underlanders, all with the same translucent skin and violet eyes, waited to greet them.

"Good late day," said Vikus, nodding to the Underlanders. "Meet you Gregor and Boots the Overlanders, brother and sister, who have most recently fallen among us. Please bathe them and then proceed to the High Hall." Without a backward glance, Vikus strode out of the room.

Gregor and the Underlanders stared awkwardly at one another. None of them had Luxa's arrogance or Vikus's easy commanding presence. "They're just regular people," he thought. "I bet they feel as weird as I do."

"Nice to meet you," he said, shifting Boots over to his other hip. "Say 'Hi,' Boots."

"Hi!" said Boots, waving at the Underlanders and looking completely delighted. "Hi! Hi, you!"

The Underlanders' reserve melted like butter in a skillet. They all laughed, and the stiffness went out of their bodies. Gregor found himself laughing, too. His mom said Boots never knew a stranger, which meant she thought everybody in the world was her friend.

Gregor sometimes wished he could be more like that. He had a couple of good friends, but he avoided becoming part of any one clique at school. It all came down to who you ate lunch with. He could've sat with the guys he ran track with. Or the band kids. But instead he liked being with Angelina, who was always in some school play, and Larry, who just... well, mostly he just drew stuff. Some people who didn't really know him thought Gregor was stuck-up, but he was mostly just private. He had more trouble opening up to people after his dad left. But even before that, he'd never been as friendly as Boots.

A young woman who looked about fifteen stepped forward and held out her arms. "I am called Dulcet. May I take you, Boots? You would care for a bath?" Boots looked at Gregor for confirmation.

"It's okay. Bath-time. You want a bath, Boots?" he asked.

"Ye-es!" cried Boots happily. "Bath!" She reached out for Dulcet, who took her from Gregor's arms.

"Meet you Mareth and Perdita," said Dulcet, indicating the man and woman next to her.

They were both tall and muscular and, although they didn't carry weapons, Gregor had a feeling they were guards.

"Hey," he said.

Mareth and Perdita both gave him formal, but friendly, nods.