The Underland Chronicles: Books 1-5 Paperback Box Set

by Suzanne Collins

  Mareth tried to feed them to distract them, but they just bickered about each other's table manners.

  "Must you talk with your mouth full, Zap?" Photos Glow-Glow said. "It kills my appetite."

  "This from someone who just sat in his milk!" Zap said, and apparently she had him there, because his rear end went bright red in anger, and he chomped on a mushroom in silence for at least thirty seconds.

  "Are they always like this?" Gregor whispered to Mareth.

  "In truth, these two are not as bad as some others I have traveled with," whispered back Mareth. "I once saw a pair try to fight to the death over a piece of cake."

  "Try to?" said Gregor.

  "They are not very capable fighters, and they tire quickly. So they ended up accusing each other of cheating, and giving up. Then they sulked for several days," said Mareth.

  "Do we really need them?" asked Gregor.

  "Unfortunately, yes," said Mareth.

  Even Boots, who had stationed herself on the floor of the boat to roll a ball around with Temp, seemed aggravated by the newcomers.

  "Fo-Fo, too loud!" she said, tugging on one of his wings. "Shh, Fo-Fo!"

  "Fo-Fo? Fo-Fo? I am he called Photos Glow-Glow and will answer to no other name!" said Photos Glow-Glow.

  "She's just a little kid. She can't say Photos Glow-Glow," said Gregor.

  "Well, then, I cannot understand her!" said the firefly.

  "Allow me to translate," Twitchtip said, not even bothering to move. "She said if you don't stop your incessant babble, that big rat sitting in the boat next to you will rip your head off."

  The silence that followed was blissful. Gregor felt positively friendly toward Twitchtip, and decided he wouldn't mind riding in her boat at all.

  They were far out into the Waterway now. The torches had been extinguished when the shiners arrived, and the fireflies' glow only illuminated the immediate area. Gregor snapped on his best flashlight for a minute and shone it around. All signs of land had vanished.

  There were waves, too, now. And even a decent breeze. Mareth and Howard ran silken sails up the masts and were preoccupied with steering the two vessels. Their bats settled comfortably together and dozed off. Gregor noticed that Ares didn't join them. On the first quest, all the bats had gathered in a clump to sleep together after flights. But maybe Ares wasn't welcome now.

  "Hey, Ares, do you know how long it will take us to get to the Labyrinth in this boat?" asked Gregor.

  "At least five days," said Ares. "If we flew, we could make it in less time, but it is believed that very few bats could make the journey. No one has ever tried it."

  "I bet you could make it," said Gregor. He meant it, too. Henry hadn't chosen Ares just because he was a troublemaker; the bat was also impressively strong and swift.

  "I have thought that I might try it someday, to see if I could accomplish it," admitted Ares.

  "Like Lindbergh. He's the first guy who flew across the Atlantic Ocean by himself," said Gregor.

  "He had wings?" asked Ares.

  "Well, mechanical ones. He was a person. He had a plane. That's a machine that flies. Now people fly across the ocean all the time in great big planes, but not when Lindbergh was flying," said Gregor.

  "He is famous, in the Overland?" asked Ares.

  "Yeah, I mean, he was. He's dead now, but he was real famous. People were mad at him, too. Because of something about a war," Gregor said, unsure about that part. There was a sad thing, too, about a baby. But he couldn't remember that exactly, either.

  Gregor picked up the scroll with "The Prophecy of Bane" and opened it.

  DIE the baby, die his heart,

  Die his most essential part.

  He let the scroll snap shut. He looked at Boots, who was quietly singing "Row Row Row Your Boat" while she drummed on Temp's shell. She was so perfect, somehow, in that way little kids are perfect. So innocent. How did anyone think they were going to solve anything by killing her? And yet at this moment, Gregor knew squads of rats were scouring the Underland to do just that.

  "Can rats swim?" Gregor asked, peering out into the water.

  "Yes, but not as far out as we are. The rats cannot reach her here," Ares said, following his thoughts.

  But eventually they would have to land. And there would be the Bane.

  "Have you ever killed a rat?" asked Gregor.

  "Not alone. Together with Henry, yes. I flew while he held the sword," said Ares.

  Then Gregor remembered he had seen the rat Fangor die on Henry's sword, back on that crystal beach. But it was sort of a blur.

  "How do you do it? I mean, where exactly is it best to...where do you stab it?" The words felt strange in his mouth.

  "The neck is vulnerable. The heart, but one must get past the ribs. Through the eyes to the brain. Under the foreleg is a vein that bleeds greatly. If you strike at the belly, you may not kill instantly, but the rat will likely die within days from infection," said Ares.

  "I see," said Gregor. But he didn't. That is, he couldn't really see himself doing it. Killing the giant white rat. The whole thing was surreal.

  "Is it okay if I'm riding you? Or do I have to be on the ground?" asked Gregor.

  "I will be there, if it is at all possible," said Ares.

  "Thanks," said Gregor. "Sorry I got you into this mess."

  "You also freed me from one," said Ares. And they left it at that.

  Mareth called a dinner break and passed around food. The fireflies ate with gusto, even though they had just been fed.

  After everyone had eaten, Mareth lowered the sails in his boat and hooked the front of his craft to the back of Howard's with a towrope. "Howard and I will take turns sailing the lead boat while the rest sleep. But we need someone on guard and one shiner on duty at all times."

  "Zap will take the first shift," said Photos Glow-Glow. "My light requires more energy."

  "It is a lie!" howled Zap. "I can only make one color, but the effort is the same. He only says this so that he will be given more food and less work!"

  "Photos Glow-Glow will take the first shift," said Twitchtip. "Or I'll shred his wings into ribbons." So that settled that. "Who wants to watch with him?"

  "We are many and can switch guards every two hours or so," said Mareth.

  Gregor was wiped out, but he hated the idea of being woken up after an hour or two of sleep and then having to be on guard, so he volunteered to go first.

  In the lead boat, Howard took his place by the rudder to steer. His bat folded its wings to sleep. Twitchtip, who had barely moved since they left Regalia, closed her eyes. Zap's soft yellow light faded out, and she began to snore.

  Gregor took off Boots's life jacket, wrapped her snugly in a blanket, and settled her down next to Temp in the stern of their boat. Ares perched next to them. Mareth stretched out on the floor, with Andromeda nearby. Photos Glow-Glow turned his bulb to a steady orange light and lit on the bow, a few feet in front of Mareth, illuminating the space between the boats.

  Gregor sat on a pile of supplies and laid his forearm across the side of the boat. It was quiet except for the lapping of the waves, soft breathing, and firefly snores. The rocking of the boat had a hypnotic effect. His eyelids felt leaden.

  He had barely slept in days...the rats were after Boots...maybe he could just rest his head on his shoulder...he had to kill Ripred...no, the Bane...he had to kill the Bane...how many nights had he been down here?...he had to kill somebody....

  Boots's cold little hand was wrapping around his wrist. "What, Boots?" he murmured. She was squeezing him now. Squeezing him hard. "What? You need a blanket?"

  He tried to pull his arm away. Her fingers dug in deeper, creeping up his arm, causing real pain. Gregor's eyes flew open. Boots was sleeping peacefully next to Temp, yards away from him. He twisted his head to the side.

  Curled around his forearm was a slimy red tentacle.

  CHAPTER 12

  "Aah!" Gregor had just enough time to let out a yell before the t
entacle gave a terrific yank. He flew over the side of the boat and would have gone straight into the water if one of his boots hadn't caught on the edge. "Ares!" A second yank pulled him headfirst, under the water up to his waist. He managed to get a good breath of air before he submerged. His legs were sliding under, too, now. He could feel the cold water climbing over his thighs, his knees, his ankles — oh! Someone had him by the feet and was pulling back!

  A tug-of-war ensued, with Gregor as the rope. For a dreadful minute it was touch-and-go, with the creature dragging him deeper and Ares dragging him back out. Gregor beat at the tentacle with his free hand, but it didn't seem to have much effect. Finally he got his mouth up to his arm and sank his teeth into the tentacle as deeply as he could. He didn't know if he did any real damage, but he surprised the animal enough for it to loosen its grip a bit. Just then Ares gave a big heave-ho and Gregor flew out of the water, coughing and gasping for air. He dangled upside down a moment, his boots locked in Ares's claws, before the bat dropped him on the floor of the boat. Gregor retched, and a gush of water rushed out of his mouth. He vaguely noticed it was salty, like the ocean.

  "Overlander!" he heard Mareth cry. "Can you fight?"

  Fight? Gregor struggled onto his hands and knees and got his first good look at their situation.

  Tentacles were shooting up over the sides of the boat right and left, their suckers latching on to anything they came in contact with. The crew was fighting back with whatever they had — swords, teeth, claws, pincers — trying to sever the appendages from the ghastly creatures looming in the dark water beneath them.

  "Catch!" he heard Mareth yell, and he saw a sword flying at him. He grabbed it out of the air by the handle just in time to slice through a tentacle that had encircled his ankle. Photos Glow-Glow and Zap were blazing. But even without their help, Gregor could have seen by the light of the water, which shone an unearthly phosphorescent green. "Squid! It's some kind of squid!" he shouted.

  The three bats were in flight, diving down and ripping with their claws. Mareth and Howard were slashing away with swords. Twitchtip was a whirlwind of gnashing teeth.

  "Overlander, your sister!" he heard Ares warn.

  Gregor turned to see Temp, standing over the still-sleeping Boots. The roach's mandibles were snapping away at the* intruders. He was disabling many tentacles, but they kept coming. Three grabbed on to the cockroach's life jacket and pulled him into the water, leaving Boots completely unprotected. As Ares dove in to battle for Temp, a particularly large tentacle whipped over the stern.

  When Gregor saw the suckers latch on to Boots's blanket, it happened again: the strange phenomenon that had occurred with the blood balls. The greater world receded, and it was as if nothing but he and the tentacles existed. Around him, somewhere, there were voices, and thuds, and glowing green water being beaten into frothy foam. But all he was really aware of was the attackers. His sword began to move — not in a premeditative way, but with some instinctive precision and force utterly beyond his control. He hacked away at tentacle after tentacle after tentacle and —

  "Overlander!" He heard Mareth's voice reach out for him. "Overlander, enough!" He didn't stop.

  "Ge-go, no hitting! No hitting!" he heard. Boots was crying.

  The world zoomed back into perspective. Gregor was standing in the middle of the boat. Severed tentacles flopped on the floor around him. His breath was coming in short, rasping gasps.

  Mareth grabbed his shoulders and gave him a sharp shake. "They are going. It is over."

  Gregor's arm, the one the squid had caught, not the one holding the sword, throbbed. Four angry red circles, sucker marks, swelled on his forearm. He was drenched with sweat and seawater and squid slime.

  "Ge-go, no hitting! Go home! Boots go home!" came from behind him.

  He turned out of Mareth's grasp and saw her sitting, still half-tangled in her blanket, sobbing, but unharmed. Muck from the squid had splattered her as well. Temp sat next to her. He was missing two legs. Gregor tossed away the sword, reached out for Boots, and held her tightly. "Hey, you're okay. You're okay, baby. Don't cry."

  "Ge-go, Boots, go home. See Mama," she sobbed. "Ma-ma! Ma-ma!"

  That was her ultimate cry of distress. When she was upset and none of the rest of them could fix it. "Mamaa!"

  Gregor sunk down on a seat and rocked her back and forth, patting her back, and trying to soothe her with words. How much had she seen? And what had she seen him do?

  While he held her on his lap, Howard appeared with a pail of water and cleaned her off. Somehow he distracted her with some silly rhyme about washing her toes.

  "two tiny rows,

  Of five tiny toes,

  Give Boots ten good reasons to wiggle her nose."

  At this point, Howard would press her foot against his nose, sniff her toes, and go, "Whew!" as if the smell about knocked him out.

  "Wiggle your nose,

  At eight, nine, ten toes,

  Then give them a bath so each tiny toe glows. "

  Boots began to laugh between sobs, especially whenever Howard said "Whew!" and soon she was completely caught up in trying to say the rhyme with him. Gregor had spent a lot of time amusing his little sisters. He recognized a good toddler bit when he saw it.

  "You make that up?" he asked Howard.

  "Yes. For Chim. It was always hard to get her to take baths," said Howard, avoiding his gaze. It crossed Gregor's mind that he had not been particularly nice to Howard. He had lumped him in with Stellovet and the other cousins, but Howard hadn't liked what his sister had said to Luxa about Henry. And he had not bragged about their dad being in charge at the Fount.

  They got Boots dressed in fresh clothes and gave her a cookie. She trotted off to teach the rhyme to Temp, who lacked not only toes, but legs.

  "Temp, do you need some bandages, or medicine?" asked Gregor.

  "No. More legs, I will grow, more legs," said Temp. He didn't seem too upset about the loss.

  Photos Glow-Glow and Zap were uninjured and very pleased with the bounty of squid parts that littered the boat. Apparently, squid was a real delicacy for fireflies, and the two had no time to squabble as they embarked in a heated race to see who could wolf down the most.

  Andromeda and Twitchtip had a couple of sucker marks, but Gregor's were the worst, as the squid had held on to him the longest and he had no fur to protect his skin. As they all cleaned the slime off their bodies, he saw the swollen red circles were beginning to ooze pus. His whole body felt hot and shaky.

  "I think maybe it poisoned me or something," Gregor said, and suddenly his knees gave way and he was lying in the boat. Everything was swimming around. Someone pressed something against his lips and ordered him to swallow. He managed to obey just before he blacked out.

  A fevered dream followed. He was submerged in bubbly fluorescent green water, wrestling with writhing tentacles, while hideous fish dug their fangs into his arm again and again. His whole family watched over the side of the boat, reaching for him, trying to pull him to safety. He screamed to Boots to get back, but she kept singing the rhyme about her toes. Temp appeared in the water beside him, bobbing around in his life jacket. He pulled off his legs, offering them to Gregor. At some point, thankfully, he sank into nothingness.

  When he came to, he could tell that a lot of time had passed. His arm was bandaged and pulsating with pain. It hurt to open his eyes.

  And when he did, he had a moment of confusion.

  For there, sitting in the bow of the boat and smiling down at him, was Luxa.

  CHAPTER 13

  "I let you go off for one day, and look at the trouble you get into," Luxa said.

  "I bet I know somebody else who's in trouble," Gregor croaked with a smile.

  "Much trouble," he heard Mareth say behind him. Gregor didn't have to turn his head to see the soldier's expression. He was angry.

  "I cannot go back," Luxa said with satisfaction. "It is too far now, and Aurora and I would most surely perish i
n the deep."

  "Yes, you timed that nicely," said Mareth.

  "I know," said Luxa.

  "I know you know. Everyone will know you knew if you ever arrive home in one piece to tell the tale," said Mareth. Gregor had never thought much about Mareth's relationship with Luxa. She was his queen, or would be when she turned sixteen, but there was another side to it he recognized after the day of training. Mareth was her coach, and he wasn't afraid to chew her out.

  "Oh, Mareth, how long are you to stay angry with me?" said Luxa. "It has been at least a day already. No one will blame you for my disobedience."

  "That is much beside the point, Luxa!" barked Mareth. "This venture is extremely dangerous, and what if you die? You leave Regalia with Nerissa as a leader, and she is of age. Can you imagine what will happen then? To Regalia? To Nerissa?"

  "She will have to abdicate," Howard said from somewhere in the other boat.

  "She will do no such thing. She will rule if I die and not Vikus, and never you and your wretched sister!" said Luxa.

  There was a shocked silence. Then Howard spoke. "Is this what you think? That I want to be king? I believe you have me confused with another cousin."

  Ouch. It was another allusion to Henry. But this time, Gregor thought Luxa might have had it coming.

  "And do not judge me by Stellovet. She is wretched. I admit it. But I can no more control her than you could control Henry!" Howard spat out.

  "If you think I will believe you innocent, I will not. I have seen you torment Nerissa," said Luxa.

  "When? When did I do this? I have barely spent five minutes with her altogether!" said Howard.

  "At the festival. When you set that lizard at her!" said Luxa.

  "Set it? I did not set it! That was a rare color changer, and I thought it would amuse her to see it!" said Howard.

  "But Henry said he saw you — !" began Luxa.

  "Henry said? Henry said? I cannot believe that even now you do not question things that Henry said, Luxa! Is he the one who told you I was after your crown?" Howard's voice rose in frustration. "Henry said!"