Gregor and the Curse of the Warmbloods

Chapter 5

Gregor's family staggered back from the front door and huddled in a knot at the center of the lobby. Lizzie was crouched down in a ball, panting, her palms shining with sweat. Gregor's mom kneeled on the floor, one arm wrapped tightly around Lizzie, the other around Boots, who had started to wake. The toddler rubbed her sleepy face in her mother's shoulder and blinked into the fluorescent lights of the lobby. His dad had gotten back to his feet, holding his grandma, who had her eyes squeezed shut and had her hands over her ears.

Gregor was afraid to leave the door to join them. Afraid the bolt would give way under the pressure of the rats. He braced his back against the door and looked at his family helplessly. There was no leaving the building. What were they going to do? Something caught his mom's attention and she seemed to stop breathing. Gregor followed her eyes to the wall off to his right. At first he didn't see anything. Then a puff of plaster dust floated out near the baseboard. A small clawed paw broke through the wall and a rat's nose poked through.

"All right!" screamed his mother. "All right, they can go!"

It was like someone had thrown a switch. The rat noise stopped instantly. Gregor could hear only Lizzie's ragged gasps, the hum of the fluorescent lights, and the distant sound of traffic from the street. He looked down at the glass door. Not a rat in sight. But he knew they were there, in the walls, in the bushes, waiting and watching.

"We can go?" asked Gregor.

"You can go," said his mother in a hoarse voice. "But this time, I'm going with you."

"Come on. Let's get back upstairs and talk about this," said his dad.

Gregor went over to Lizzie and helped her up. "You okay, Liz?"

"My — fingers — got — pins and — needles," she choked out.

"I think you're having a panic attack, honey," Gregor's dad said softly. "And no wonder. When we get upstairs, I'll get you a paper bag to breathe in. Fix you right up." He jabbed the elevator button with his elbow and the doors to it opened at once. Like it had been waiting.

His family stepped inside.

"I can do button," said Boots. His mom held her out so she could press the number for their floor.

"See?" said Boots proudly.

"Good girl," said Gregor's mom dully, and the doors closed.

Back in the apartment, the clock on the wall said eleven-thirty. "We've got a half hour," said Gregor.

His dad settled his grandma back in her bed. Then he sat Lizzie on the couch and taught her to breathe into a small paper bag. "Too much oxygen getting into you, pumpkin. Just take it slow."

Lizzie nodded and tried to follow his instructions. But she looked miserable. "I don't — want Mom — to go."

"I think she's right," said Gregor's dad. "We need you up here. I'll go down with Boots and Gregor."

"No," said his mom. "I have to go."

"Why can't dad go?" said Gregor, a little too forcefully. His mom shot him a look and he began to backpedal. "I mean, he's been before. People know him."

This was true, but it was not the real reason Gregor wanted his dad instead of his mom. For starters, she was furious. No telling what she'd say to the Underlanders. There was something else, too. Down in the Underland, Gregor had an identity. He was the warrior. Even if he didn't always buy into that himself, it was important that everybody else did. And somehow, he didn't think it was going to look so hot for the warrior to be showing up with his mom. Especially when he knew she'd have no problem saying stuff like, "Now go wash your hands and find your manners while you're at it," or sending him to bed even if there was a bunch of people around.

"I can't be the one waiting and wondering what's happening to the rest of you. Not this time." His mom set Boots down and wrapped her arms around Lizzie. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Lizzie?"

Lizzie nodded. "I could — go — too," she said bravely. But the very notion was so scary, it caused her to start panting again.

"No, I need you to stay up here and keep an eye on your dad and grandma. We won't be gone long. There's just one meeting, and we're coming straight back," said Gregor's mom, stroking Lizzie's hair.

"And then — can we go — away?" said Lizzie.

"That's right," said his mom. "How'd you like to move down to your uncle's farm in Virginia?"

"Good," said Lizzie, looking a little better. "That'd be — good."

"Well, you better start packing while I'm gone. Okay, baby?" said his mom.

"Okay," said Lizzie. And she actually smiled.

Gregor felt like a jerk. Here he'd been worried about how cool he'd look having his mom around in the Underland. He wasn't thinking about her at all. Or about the rest of his family. He reached out and gave Lizzie a pat. "We'll be back in a couple hours, Liz," he said.

"That's right." His mom kissed Lizzie and gave her a squeeze, then turned to him. "So, what do we need to take?"

"Light," said Gregor. "That's the main thing. I'll get it, Mom."

While his dad took the crowbar down to the laundry room to pry open the grate, Gregor dug around the apartment for a couple of flashlights and all the batteries he could find. His mom just sat on the couch, an arm around each of his sisters, talking in a soothing voice about what their new life would be like in Virginia.

Gregor went into the bedroom and saw that his grandma wasn't asleep.

"You need to go back down to that place," she said to him. It wasn't a question.

"I'm in another prophecy, Grandma," Gregor said, and showed it to her.

"Then you got to go. You can run away, but the prophecy will find you somehow," she said.

"That's how it seems to be working out," said Gregor. He straightened her quilts. "You take care of yourself, okay?"

"You, too. See you soon, Gregor," she said.

"See you soon," he said. He kissed her on the forehead and she gave him a smile.

They had to risk leaving his grandma alone for a short time, while they went to the laundry room. But it was doubtful she would try and get out of bed, anyway. And the rats weren't coming back. They had what they wanted.

His dad had pushed the dryer over. Now there was some space in front of the grate, which was propped open. Wisps of white vapor were curling out of the darkness inside the wall. "Looks like the currents are active," said his dad. "You could probably ride them right down to the Underland. But Ripred said there would be a bat."

The words were not out of his mouth when a large, furry face appeared in the opening. The bat was extraordinary looking — white with dramatic black stripes radiating out from its nose to its ears.

His mother gasped, and Lizzie let out a sharp cry. It was the first Underland creature either of them had ever seen.

But Boots immediately put out her little hand to stroke the bat's fur. "Oh, you look like zebra. Z is for zebra. Hi, you!"

"Greetings," purred the bat. "I am she called Nike. Are you ready to depart?"

Gregor's family looked at one another, then wordlessly exchanged hugs.

"How do we...get on you?" his mother asked the bat.

"You must fall. But do not worry. The current is such that you will ride safely to the ground with or without a flier. I am only here for your ease of mind," said Nike.

The bat dropped out of sight. Boots started eagerly for the grate. "Me next!"

Gregor grabbed her and almost laughed at her excitement. "I think I'm going to hold on to you this time. Ready, Mom?"

His mom kneeled down by the grate and stuck her head into it. "We're just...supposed to jump?" She pulled her head out, looking bewildered.

"Wait a sec," said Gregor. He set Boots on the floor and climbed out into the mist, hanging from the edge of the grate opening by one hand. "Now pass down Boots," he said. His dad swung Boots into his free arm. She latched on to him like a baby koala bear. "Come on, Mom. You jump, grab on to us, and we'll all go down together."

His mother bit her lip, gave one look back at his dad and Lizzie, and scooted herself, feet first, out of the laundry room. As she came through, her hand latched on to the wrist that was supporting Gregor, and he released the grate.

Within seconds, the swirling mist blotted out the light from the laundry room. He locked his fingers around his mom's wrist and could feel her pulse going a mile a minute. He tried to block out the terror he felt of heights, of falling, but it wasn't really something he could control. The first time he'd taken this trip he had calmed himself down by telling himself this was just a bad dream.

But the little voice squealing delightedly in his ear was all too real. "Gre-go! Mama! Boots! We all go wheeeeee!"