"A-B-C," said Boots, touching the letters. Gregor began to read.
Beware, Underlanders, time hangs by a thread. The hunters are hunted, white water runs red. The gnawers will strike to extinguish the rest. The hope of the hopeless resides in a quest.
An Overland warrior, a son of the sun, -May bring us back light, he may bring us back none. But gather your neighbors and follow his call Or rats will most surely devour us all.
Two over, two under, of royal descent, Two flyers, two crawlers, two spinners assent. One gnawer beside and one lost up ahead. And eight will be left when we count up the dead.
The last who will die must decide where he stands.
The fate of the eight is contained in his hands. So bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps,
AS life may be death and death life again reaps.
Gregor finished the poem and didn't know quite what to say. He blurted out, "What's that mean?"
Vikus shook his head. "No one knows for certain.
It tells of a dark time when the future of our people is undecided. It calls for a journey, not just of humans but of many creatures, which may lead either to salvation or ruin. The journey will be led by an Overlander."
"Yeah, well, I got that part. This warrior guy," said Gregor.
"You asked why the rats hate Overlanders so deeply. It is because they know one will be the warrior of the prophecy," said Vikus.
"Oh, I see," said Gregor. "So, when's he coming?"
Chapter 11
Gregor awoke from a fitful sleep. Images of bloodred rivers, his dad surrounded by rats, and
Boots falling into bottomless caverns had woven in and out of his dreams all night long.
Oh, yeah. And then there was that warrior thing.
He had tried to tell them. When Vikus had implied that he was the warrior in "The Prophecy of Gray," Gregor had actually laughed. But the man was serious.
"You've got the wrong guy," Gregor had said. "Really, I promise, I'm not a warrior."
Why pretend and get their hopes up? Samurai warriors, Apache warriors, African warriors, medieval warriors. He'd seen movies. He'd read books. He didn't in any way resemble any warrior. First of all, they were grown up and they usually had a lot of special weaponry. Gregor was eleven and, unless you counted a two-year-old sister as special weaponry, he'd come empty-handed.
Also, Gregor was not into fighting. He'd fight back if someone jumped him at school, but that didn't happen often. He wasn't all that big, but he moved fast and people didn't like to mess with him. Sometimes he'd step in if a bunch of guys were pounding a small kid; he hated seeing that. But he never picked fights, and wasn't fighting what warriors mainly did?
Vikus and Luxa had listened to his protests. He thought he might have convinced Luxa -- she didn't have a very high opinion of him, anyway -- but Vikus was more persistent.
"How many Overlanders survive the fall to the Underland, do you suppose? I would guess a tenth. And how many survive the rats after that? Perhaps another tenth. So out of a thousand Overlanders, let us say ten survive. How passing strange is it that not only your father but you and your sister came alive to us," said Vikus.
"I guess it's kind of strange," admitted Gregor. "But I don't see why that makes me the warrior."
"You will when you better understand the prophecy," said Vikus. "Each person carries their own destiny. These walls tell of our destiny. And your destiny, Gregor, requires you to play a role in it."
"I don't know about this destiny thing," said Gregor. "I mean, my dad and Boots and I... we all have the same laundry room and we landed somewhere pretty close to you, so I'm thinking it's more of a coincidence. I'd like to help, but you guys are probably going to have to wait a little longer for your warrior."
Vikus just smiled and said they would put it before the council in the morning. This morning. Now.
Despite all of his worries, and he had plenty, Gregor couldn't deny a feeling of giddy happiness that shot through him periodically. His dad was alive! Almost instantly another wave of anxiety would rush over him. "Yeah, he's alive but imprisoned by rats!" Still, his grandma always said, "Where there's life, there's hope."
Boy, wouldn't his grandma love it if she knew he was talked about in a prophecy? But, of course, that wasn't him. That was some warrior guy who would hopefully make an appearance really soon and help him get his dad free.