"What happened to him?" asked Gregor, spearing a mushroom.The table got quiet.
"He died," said Solovet softly. "He died without your sun."
Gregor lowered the mushroom to his plate. He looked over at Boots, who was covered from head to toe in some kind of mushy baby stew. She sleepily finger-painted on the stone tabletop with the gravy.
"Our sun," thought Gregor. Had it set? Was it bed time? Had the police gone, or were they still there questioning his mom? If they'd gone, he knew where she'd be. Sitting at the kitchen table. Alone in the dark. Crying.
Chapter 7
The darkness pressed down on Gregor's eyes until he felt it had physical weight, like water. He'd never been completely without light before. At home, streetlights, car headlights, and the occasional flashing fire truck shone in the tiny window of his bedroom. Here, once he'd blown out the oil lamp, it was as if he'd lost the sense of sight entirely.
He'd been tempted to relight the lamp. Mareth had told him that torches burned all night long in the corridor outside his room and he could rekindle the flame there. But he wanted to save the oil. He'd be lost without it once he got out of Regalia.
Boots made a snuffling sound and pressed her back deeper into his side. His arm tightened around her.
Servants had prepared separate beds for them, but Boots had climbed right in with Gregor.
It hadn't been hard to get the Underlanders to excuse them for bed. Everyone could see Boots could barely keep her eyes open, and he must have looked pretty ragged himself. He wasn't. Adrenaline was pumping through him so fast, he was afraid that people could hear his heart beating through the heavy curtains that shut off their bedroom from the hall. The last thing he could do was sleep.
They had been invited to bathe again before bed. It was something of a necessity for Boots, who, in addition to stew, had conditioned her curls with some kind of pudding. Gregor hadn't objected, either. The water gave him a quiet place to think out his escape plan.
It also gave him a chance to ask Dulcet about the water system in the palace without seeming suspicious. "How do you guys have hot and cold running water?" he asked.
She told him the water was pumped from a series of hot and cold springs.
"And then it just empties back into a spring?" he asked innocently.
"Oh, no, that would not be fresh," said Dulcet.
"The dirty water falls into the river beneath the palace and then flows to the Waterway."
It was just the information he needed. The river beneath the palace was their way out. Even better, it led to the Waterway. He didn't know what that was exactly, but Vikus had mentioned it had two gateways to the Overland.
Boots stirred again in her sleep, and Gregor patted her side to quiet her. She had not seemed to miss home until bedtime. But she looked worried when he told her it was time to go to sleep.
"Mama?" she asked. "Liz-ee?"
Was it only that morning that Lizzie had ridden off to camp on the bus? It seemed like a thousand years ago.
"Home? Mama?" insisted Boots. Even though she was exhausted, he had a hard time getting her to sleep. Now he could tell by how restless she was that she was having vivid dreams.
"Probably full of giant cockroaches and bats," he thought.
He had no way to tell how much time had passed. An hour? Two? But what little noise he'd been able to hear through the curtain had ceased. If he was going to do this thing, he needed to get started.
Gregor gently disengaged himself from Boots and stood up. He fumbled in the dark and found the sling Dulcet had given him. Trying to position Boots inside it proved tricky. Finally he just squeezed his eyes shut and let his other senses work. That was easier. He slid her in and slung the pack on his back.
Boots murmured, "Mama," and her head fell against his shoulder.
"I'm working on it, baby," he whispered back, and searched the table for the lamp. That was all he was taking. Boots, the pack, and the lamp. He'd need his hands for other things.
Gregor groped his way to the curtain and pushed the edge aside. There was enough torchlight from the far hall for him to make out the passage was empty. The Underlanders had not bothered to post guards at his door now that they knew him better. They were making an effort to make him feel like a guest and, anyway, where would he go?
"Down the river," he thought grimly. "Wherever that leads."
He crept along the hall taking care to place each of his bare feet silently. Thankfully Boots slept on. His plan would disintegrate if she woke before he got out of the palace.