And eight will be left when we count up the dead.
"What does that mean?" asked Gregor, pointing to the line.
"If you add up all the players in the prophecy, two over, two under, two fliers, two crawlers, two spinners, one gnawer, and one lost, you have twelve," said Vikus gravely. "By the end of the quest, only eight will remain alive. Four will be dead. But no one knows what four."
"Oh," said Gregor, stunned. He'd heard the words before, but they only registered now. "Four of us dead."
"But eight alive, Gregor," said Vikus gently. "And perhaps a world saved."
Gregor couldn't deal with that part now, wondering who would be left standing at the end of the day. He pushed on to the final stanza of the prophecy.
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.
"I don't get this last part," said Gregor.
"Nor do I, nor does anyone. It is very cryptic. I believe no one will fully understand it until the final moment has arrived," said Vikus. "Gregor, it is not pleasant, it is not easy, but it is essential, what I ask you to do. Essential to you, if you wish to find your father. Essential for my people, if they are to survive."
Gregor felt his anger ebbing and fear filling the empty spaces it left. He took another tack. "I don't want to go with that rat," said Gregor, almost pleading. "He'll kill us."
"No, you cannot judge Ripred by what you know of other rats. He has wisdom unique in any creature. Things were not always so bad between humans and rats. When Solovet and Ripred and I were younger, we lived in relative peace. Ripred would see that restored, but King Gorger wishes all humans dead," said Vikus.
"So, you're saying Ripred's a good rat," said Gregor, choking on the words.
"If he were not, would I trust my granddaughter to his care?" asked Vikus.
"Your granddaughter?" said Gregor blankly. "Luxa's mother was my daughter, Judith," said Vikus.
"You're her grandpa? Why does she call you Vikus?" asked Gregor. These people were so weird and formal. How could he not have known that?
"It is our way," said Vikus. "Look after her. If this is hard for you, know it is torture for Luxa."
"I haven't said I'm going yet!" said Gregor. He looked into the old man's eyes. "All right, I'm going. Is there anything else I need to know that you haven't told me?"
"Only this: Despite what I said, I knew you were the warrior from the first moment I spied you," said Vikus.
"Thanks. Great. That's very helpful," said Gregor, and they returned to the group. "Okay, Boots and I are going with the rat. Who else is in?"
There was a pause. "Where goes the princess, go we," said Temp.
"What say you, Luxa?" said Vikus.
"What can I say, Vikus? Can I return to our people and tell them I withdrew from the quest when our survival hangs in the balance?" said Luxa bitterly.
"Of course you cannot, Luxa. This is why he times it so," said Henry.
"You could choose to -- " started Vikus.
"I could choose! I could choose!" retorted Luxa. "Do not offer me a choice when you know none exists!" She and Henry turned their backs on Vikus.
"Fliers?" said Solovet, as Vikus seemed to have lost the ability to talk.
"Aurora and I go with our bonds," muttered Ares.
"Then it is settled. Come, Mareth, we are needed at home," said Solovet.
A distraught Mareth quickly made up packs of food for the members of the quest. "Fly you high, all of you," he said in a strained voice, and climbed on his bat.