A HENRY STORY 1: Memories Of The Fallen Prince

XXIX. Death Rider

The great whirlpool roared beneath the boat; after Pandora had returned with Howard, it was held up by all the bats again. But Gregor barely heard the noise. He stared into the faces of his fellow travelers.

Howard had been saved. Someone had now draped a blanket around his shoulders. But down there, among the grinding waves of the water, was still Twitchtip, desperately clinging to what had remained of the second boat.

And only then did it hit Gregor what their silence meant. They didn't plan to save her. Not to save her, as Howard had been saved—as anyone would have been saved. Anyone but her.

"It's because she's a rat!" he yelled, barely recognizing his breaking voice. "You're just going to sit here and watch her drown . . . because she's a rat!"

Gregor took a step toward the rim of the boat to glance down and winced when Twitchtip's boat snapped in two. Its crack was audible even against the deafening roar of the whirlpool. He watched her desperately cling to the wreckage before it was swept out of her grasp. Her horrified shriek speared Gregor's ears.

His fists tightened as he watched her desperately claw her way through the water, fighting to keep from going under. But she wouldn't last long.

Then and there, Gregor tore his eyes away and found the life jacket—on the floor next to Boots. Her head flew up when Gregor shoved his arms through the straps and buckled them with shaking hands. The small flashlight—the one Mrs. Cormaci had given him—was in his pocket. The water here didn't glow, so he flicked it on. Maybe he could hold it between his teeth?

He ignored Boots' confused "Oh?" and, in two steps, he was by the side of the boat.

Hands grabbed him as he attempted to climb up. "Do not be a madman, Overlander!" Howard had apparently recovered so much that he had realized what Gregor was doing. "You cannot help her!"

"You make me the sickest of all!" Gregor furiously wiggled out of his grip. "You were down there yourself a minute ago! You got rescued! And what about what you swore? About saving anyone in water trouble? What about that?!"

Howard's face flushed purple, and he took a step back. But the moment he released him, Luxa took his place. "Gregor!" she hissed. "I forbid you to go, Gregor. You will not survive!"

"Not with you guys as backup!" Gregor was so furious he could have thrown her over the side of the boat—see how she liked it down there!

With one firm tug, he ripped his arm out of Luxa's grip and scrambled up onto the side of the boat. "Ripred brought her for me!" he yelled. "He brought her to help me, so I could help you guys and your whole stupid kingdom!" For a heartbeat, he held Luxa's glare, and then Gregor turned. "That's why we're doing this, right?"

When the beam of his light hit the grinding water below, Gregor shuddered. He had been determined moments ago, but . . . Was he really going to jump down into that? They were right; it was insane. Even if he'd been the best Olympic swimmer in the world, he'd never swim his way out of that. Especially pulling some big old rat.

But . . . Gregor took a deep breath. He had to do this. To show them. To prove to them they were wrong—apart from how they were right when it came to his own chances at surviving this. But were they really? He knew the Underlanders needed to keep him alive at all costs; they had insisted on that often enough. And that meant if he jumped now, they'd come after him. All he needed to do was get to Twitchtip, and they'd have to save them both . . . right?

Gregor swallowed hard. It was still a huge gamble. What if he overestimated their willingness to risk this mission for him? What if he had misheard? What if he jumped now and nobody came?