"Why? What? Why not?" asked Gregor, feeling his insides go icy.
"Vikus has done a remarkable job of concealing you. No rat save me has seen you and lived to tell of it. The rats do not know the warrior has arrived. But the fact that humans have brought Overlanders to the spinners will make them suspicious," said Ripred. The wheels seemed to be visibly turning in his head. "Still, there is much confusion in war and no rat has identified you. We move on now!"
No one argued. They packed up and headed out the far side of the cavern into a drier, roomier tunnel. Aurora and Ares were able to fly now, although the space was dangerous for riders.
"We shall go on foot," Luxa told Aurora. "Even if you carry the rest of us, what will be done with the gnawer?" So, the bats took to the air with the remaining packs.
Gregor watched them enviously. "Lucky I'm not a bat. I might just fly out of here and not look back."
"Aurora and Ares would never do that. They are bonded to myself and Henry," said Luxa.
"How does that work exactly?" asked Gregor.
"When a bat and a human bond, they swear to fight to the death for each other," said Luxa. "Aurora would never leave me in danger, nor I her."
"Does everybody have a bat?" asked Gregor, thinking it would be nice to know somebody was going to hang around and defend you in this place.
"Oh, no. Some never find a bat to bond with. I became one with Aurora when I was quite young, but this is not common," said Luxa.
"How come you bonded so early?" asked Gregor.
"After my parents were killed, I went through a time where I never felt safe on the ground. I spent all my waking hours in the air on Aurora. It is why we fly so well together," she said simply. "Vikus convinced the council to allow us to bond early. After that I was not so afraid."
"Are you afraid now?" said Gregor.
"At times," she admitted. "But it is no worse than if I were in Regalia. You see, I tired of constant fear, so I made a decision. Every day when I wake I tell myself that it will be my last. If you are not trying to hold on to time, you are not so afraid of losing it."
Gregor thought this was the single saddest thing anyone had ever said to him. He couldn't answer.
"And then, if you make it to bedtime, you feel the joy of cheating death out of one more day," she said. "Do you see?"
"I think so," said Gregor numbly. An awful thought struck him. Wasn't Luxa's strategy just an extreme form of his own rule? True, he didn't think about dying every day, but he denied himself the luxury of thinking about the future with or without his dad. If he hadn't fallen through the grate in his laundry room and discovered his dad was still alive, if his dad had never come home, how long would he have gone on refusing to be happy? His whole life? "Maybe," he thought. "Maybe my whole life." Gregor hurried on with the conversation.
"So, how do you actually bond with a bat?" he asked Luxa.
"It is a simple ceremony. Many bats and humans gather. You stand face-to-face with your bat and say a vow. Like so," said Luxa, extending her hand and reciting a poem.
"Aurora the flier, I bond to you, Our life and death are one, we two. In dark, in flame, in war, in strife I save you as I save my life."
"And then your bat recites it back, but using your name. Then there is a feast," concluded Luxa.
"So what happens if one of you breaks the vow? Like if Aurora flew off and left you in danger," asked Gregor.
"Aurora would not, but a few vows have been broken. The punishment is severe. The one at fault is banished to live alone in the Underland," said Luxa. "And no one lives long in the Underland alone."
"Fascinating as your native rituals are, do you think we might proceed in silence? Given that the entire rat nation is on the lookout for us, it might be prudent," said Ripred.
Luxa and Gregor shut up. Gregor wished they could talk more. Luxa acted differently when she wasn't with Henry. Friendlier. Less arrogant. But Ripred was right about the noise.
Fortunately Boots dozed off. For several hours all they heard were the light tap of their footsteps and the scraping sound of Ripred's teeth on a bone he'd saved from lunch.
Gregor felt consumed with new worries about his dad. From what Ripred had said, it seemed like the rats might kill him to keep Gregor from reaching him. But why? That wouldn't change the prophecy, would it? He guessed no one really knew. And what about that last stanza? He unrolled the prophecy and read it so many times, he memorized it without trying.
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.
He couldn't make heads or tails of it. All he could figure out was that whoever died fourth had a pretty big responsibility to the eight who were still living. But how? What? Where? When? The final stanza of "The Prophecy of Gray" left out all the details that would have made it useful.
Ripred kept them moving until everyone was stumbling with fatigue. He gave the order to stop in a cavern that at least had a dry floor and a spring with drinkable water.