For a minute, everybody just watched them pattering around the chamber. Then Vikus cleared his throat. "Crawlers, we have grave matters to place before you. Take us to your king, take us?"
The roaches reluctantly tore themselves away from watching Boots and led Vikus and Solovet away.
"Oh, great," thought Gregor. "Here we are again." He felt even less comfortable than when Vikus had left the first time. Who knew what Henry and Luxa might do now? And then there was the matter of the giant roaches. He didn't feel particularly safe in the bugs' land. Just yesterday they had considered trading him and Boots to the rats. Well, at least there was Mareth, who seemed decent enough. And the bats weren't too bad.
Temp and one other roach named Tick had stayed behind. They completely ignored the rest of the party while they took turns giving the toddler rides.
The five bats gathered together in a clump and fell asleep, exhausted from the day's flight.
Mareth placed the torches together to make a small fire and put on some food to warm. Henry and Luxa sat apart speaking in low voices, which was fine with Gregor. Mareth was the only one he felt like talking to, anyway.
"So, can you tell the crawlers apart, Mareth?" asked Gregor. He dumped all his batteries on the ground to sort out the dead ones while they talked.
"No, it is most rare that your sister can. Among us are few that can make distinctions. Vikus is better than most. But to pick one from so many ... it is passing strange," said Mareth. "Perhaps it is a gift of the Overlanders?" he suggested.
"No, they look identical to me," said Gregor. Boots was really good at those games where they gave you four pictures that looked alike except one had a tiny difference. Like there were four party hats and one had seven stripes instead of six. And if they were all drinking from paper cups, she always knew whose was whose even if they got mixed up on the table together. Maybe every roach really did look distinctly different to her.
Gregor opened up the flashlight. It took two D-size batteries. He swapped the other batteries in and out, trying to determine which ones still had power. As he worked, he inadvertently flipped the switch on when the flashlight was pointing at Luxa and Henry. They jumped, unaccustomed to sudden bursts of light. He did it a couple more times on purpose, which was childish, but he liked seeing them flinch. "They'd last about five seconds in New York City," he thought. That made him feel a little better.
Of the ten batteries, all but two still had juice. Gregor opened up the compartment on his hat and found it ran on some special rectangular battery. Not having any replacements, he would have to use it sparingly. "Maybe I should save this for last. If I lose the others or they go dead, I'll still have this on my head," he thought. He clicked off the light on the hat.
Gregor put the good batteries back in his pocket and set the other two aside. "These two are duds," he said to Mareth. "They don't work."
"Shall I burn them?" asked Mareth, reaching for the batteries.
Gregor caught his wrist before he could toss them in the flames. "No, they might explode!" He didn't really know what would happen if you put a battery in the fire, but he had a vague memory of his dad saying it was a dangerous thing to do. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Luxa and Henry exchanging uneasy glances. "You could blind yourself," he added, just for effect.
Well, that might happen if they exploded.
Mareth nodded and gingerly set the dead batteries back by Gregor. He rolled them around with his sandal, making Luxa and Henry nervous. But when he saw that Mareth looked nervous, too, he stuck the duds in his pocket.
Vikus and Solovet returned just as the food was ready. They looked worried.
Everyone gathered around as Mareth passed out fish, bread, and something that reminded Gregor of a sweet potato but wasn't.
"Boots! Dinnertime!" said Gregor, and she ran over.
When she realized they weren't following, she turned her head and waved impatiently to the roaches. "Temp! Ticka! Din-uh!"
An awkward social moment. No one else had thought to invite the roaches. Mareth had not prepared enough food. Clearly it wasn't standard to dine with roaches. Fortunately they shook their heads.
"No, Princess, we eat not now." They started to scurry away.
"Stay dere!" said Boots, pointing at Temp and Tick. "You stay dere, beeg bugs." And the roaches obediently sat down.
"Boots!" said Gregor, embarrassed. "You don't have to stay -- she orders everybody around," he told the roaches. "It's just she wants to keep playing with you but she has to eat first."
"We will sit," said one stiffly, and Gregor had the feeling the bug wanted him to mind his own business.
Everyone ate hungrily except Vikus, who seemed distracted.
"So when leave we?" asked Henry, through a mouthful of fish.
"We do not," said Solovet. "The crawlers have refused to come."
Luxa's head snapped up indignantly. "Refused? On what grounds?"
"They do not wish to invite the anger of King Gorger by joining our quest," said Vikus. "They have peace with both humans and rats now. They do not want to unseat it."