"Gregor the Overlander, meet you Aurora and Euripedes. They are bonded to Luxa and myself," said Vikus, extending a flexed hand to the gray bat on his right. Euripedes brushed the hand with his wing. Luxa and her golden bat Aurora performed the same exchange.
Gregor had thought the bats were like horses, but now he could see they were equals. Did they talk?
"Greetings, Overlander," said Euripedes in a soft purring voice.
Yeah, they talked. Gregor began to wonder if his fish dinner would want to chat as he sliced into it.
"Nice to meet you," said Gregor politely. "What does that mean, that you're bonded to each other?"
"Soon after we arrived in the Underland we humans formed a special alliance with the bats," said Solovet. "Both sides saw the obvious advantages to joining together. But beyond our alliance, individual bats and humans may form their own union. That is called bonding."
"And what do you do if you're bonded to a bat?" asked Gregor. "I mean, besides play ball games together."
There was a pause in which glances were exchanged around the table. He'd said something wrong again.
"You keep each other alive," said Luxa coldly.
It had seemed like he was making fun of something serious. "Oh, I didn't know," said Gregor.
"Of course, you did not," said Solovet, shooting a look at Luxa. "You have no parallel in your own land."
"And do you bond with the crawlers, too?" Gregor asked.
Henry snorted with laughter. "I would as soon bond with a stone. At least it could be counted on not to run away in battle."
Luxa broke into a grin. "And perhaps you could throw it. I suppose you could throw a crawler...."
"But then I would have to touch it!" said Henry, and the two cracked up.
"The crawlers are not known for their fighting ability," said Vikus, by way of explanation to Gregor. Neither he nor Solovet were laughing. He turned to Luxa and Henry. "Yet they live on. Perhaps when you can comprehend the reason for their longevity you will have more respect for them."
Henry and Luxa attempted to look serious, although their eyes were still laughing.
"It is of little consequence to the crawlers whether I respect them or not," said Henry lightly.
"Perhaps not, but it is of great consequence whether Luxa does. Or so it will be in some five years when she comes of age to rule," said Vikus. "At that time, foolish jokes at the crawlers' expense may make the difference between our existence and our annihilation. They do not need to be warriors to shift the balance of power in the Underland."
This sobered Luxa up for real, but it killed the conversation. An awkward pause stretched into an embarrassing silence. Gregor thought he understood what Vikus had meant. The crawlers would make better friends than enemies, and humans shouldn't go around insulting them.
To Gregor's relief, the food arrived, and an Underlander servant placed a half circle of small bowls around him. At least three contained what looked like various types of mushrooms. One had a ricelike grain, and the smallest contained a handful of fresh greens. He could tell by the skimpy portion that the leafy stuff was supposed to be a big treat.
A platter with a whole grilled fish was set in front of him. The fish resembled the ones Gregor was used to except it had no eyes. He and his dad had once watched a show on TV about fish that lived way down deep in some cave and didn't have eyes, either. The weird thing was that when the scientists brought some up to study in a lab, the fish had sensed the light and had grown eyes. Not right away, but in a few generations.
His dad had gotten very excited over the show and had taken Gregor to the American Museum of Natural History to look for eyeless fish. They had ended up at the museum a lot, just the two of them. His dad was crazy about science, and it seemed as if he wanted to pour everything in his brain right into Gregor's head. It was a little dangerous, because even a simple question could bring on a half-hour explanation. His grandma had always said, "Ask your daddy the time, and he tells you how to make a clock." But he was so happy explaining, and Gregor was just happy being with him. Besides, Gregor had loved the rain forest exhibit, and the cafeteria with french fries shaped like dinosaurs. They had never really figured out how the fish had known to grow eyes. His dad had had some theories, of course, but he couldn't explain how the fish had been able to change so fast.
Gregor wondered how long it took people to become transparent with purple eyes. He turned to Vikus. "So, you were going to tell me how you got down here?"
While Gregor tried not to wolf his food, which turned out to be delicious, Vikus filled him in on the history of Regalia.
Not all of it was clear, but it seemed the people had come from England in the 1600s. "Yes, they were led here by a stonemason, one Bartholomew of Sandwich," said Vikus, and Gregor had to work to keep a straight face. "He had visions of the future. He saw the Underland in a dream, and he set out to find it."
Sandwich and a group of followers had sailed to New York, where he got on famously with the local tribe. The Underland was no secret to the Native Americans, who had made periodic trips below the earth for ritual purposes for hundreds of years. They had little interest in living there and didn't care if Sandwich was mad enough to want to.
"Of course, he was quite sane," said Vikus. "He knew that one day the earth would be empty of life except what was sustained beneath the ground."
Gregor thought it might be rude to tell Vikus that billions of people lived up there now. Instead, he asked, "So, everybody just packed up and moved down here?"
"Heavens, no! It was fifty years before the eight hundred were down and the gates to the Overland sealed. We had to know we could feed ourselves and have walls to keep us safe. Rome was not built in a day." Vikus laughed. "This was how Fred Clark the Overlander said it."