Gregor and the Marks of Secret-4 by Suzanne Collins
Authors: Suzanne Collins
Tags: Fiction, General, Historical, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, War, New York (N.Y.), Animals, Military & Wars, Imaginary wars and battles, Underground areas
Ads: Link
very safe life.
"What is a scythe, anyway?" Gregor asked.
"It is a tool used for harvesting grain. The farmers were using scythes today as we flew over the fields," said Howard.
Gregor remembered the tools then, being swung from side to side. "So, why do those mean death?"
"Because they cut down life. In old scrolls from the Overland, sometimes the figure of Death, in a hooded black robe, also carries a scythe. To cut down humans' lives," said Howard.
"Oh, yeah. That's where I've seen it," said Gregor.
Howard built a small fire to try to cheer things up. Unfortunately, in the ghost town that was the mouse colony the shadows the flames threw against the stone walls only made the place feel more eerie.
Boots, who was puzzled by the whole situation, squatted next to Hazard and patted him on the leg. "Hazard is crying. Hazard is sad," she said.
"It's okay, Boots; everybody is fine," said Gregor, picking her up for a hug.
"No, we are not fine. We have seen the scythe," said Hazard.
"And yet we still live," said Luxa, stroking his curls.
"Yes, perhaps that mark was meant for someone else," said Howard.
"Or they made it during the plague," said Luxa. "Before the cure was found and all warmbloods were as good as dead."
Hazard quieted a minute to consider this. "I don't know," he said. "In the jungle everyone dreads the mark."
"Did you ever see it yourself? In the jungle, I mean," said Gregor.
"Once. There was a swarm of flying insects. Their bite brought quick death," said Hazard.
"But you did not die, Hazard," said Howard encouragingly. "Or you would not be here to tell us of it."
"My mother died," said Hazard wanly. "Frill outran them, but my mother was bitten first."
There was nothing to say after that. No explaining to Hazard that they were safe. Around any corner could be another swarm of stingers. Another plague. Another way to die.
Some mouse had scratched that mark in the cave wall. Cevian had made the same mark at Queenshead. Why? What threat was upon them? Gregor didn't believe it had to do with the plague. Or the snakes.
"Hazard, when you lived in the jungle, how did the nibblers get along with the snakes?"
asked Gregor. "The ones that look like vines."
"You mean the twisters?" said Hazard. "They avoided each other. The twisters eat the nibbler pups, and the nibblers eat the twister eggs," he said.
"It is true," said Luxa. "The twisters never came near the nibblers when I was there. I believe neither thought it was worth the risk."
"So you think the twisters only moved in after the mice had left?" asked Howard.
"That is my hope," said Luxa. "But also my fear. It would mean that not one but two colonies of nibblers have left their homes because of an unknown threat."
"It sounds as if they have a lot of enemies," said Gregor. "The spinners, the cutters —"
"Those were land disputes. Once the nibblers had left their regions, neither the spinners nor cutters had any interest in pursuing them. I can think of only one animal that would do that,"
said Howard.
No one had to mention the rats. They all knew who Howard was talking about.
They had snacked from the picnic baskets on the flight, mostly eating whatever was on top. Now Howard laid out the delicacies the cook had prepared. Spicy fish salads, a dozen kinds of cheese, pickled vegetables, roasted chicken, sliced beef, stuffed eggs, several loaves of bread, and a variety of sweets. It was an amazing spread, but no one really enjoyed it except Boots. She ate until her belly stuck out like a basketball. "See?" she said to Gregor, pulling up her shirt. He poked her stomach and shook his head. "Talk about eating like a shiner!" he said. She was probably about to hit a growth spurt. At least, he hoped so.
By the time the picnic was over, everyone was dropping from fatigue. Except Boots, who'd had a nice long nap on the trip and was ready to play. They broke up guard duty into two-hour shifts. Gregor and Temp volunteered
"What is a scythe, anyway?" Gregor asked.
"It is a tool used for harvesting grain. The farmers were using scythes today as we flew over the fields," said Howard.
Gregor remembered the tools then, being swung from side to side. "So, why do those mean death?"
"Because they cut down life. In old scrolls from the Overland, sometimes the figure of Death, in a hooded black robe, also carries a scythe. To cut down humans' lives," said Howard.
"Oh, yeah. That's where I've seen it," said Gregor.
Howard built a small fire to try to cheer things up. Unfortunately, in the ghost town that was the mouse colony the shadows the flames threw against the stone walls only made the place feel more eerie.
Boots, who was puzzled by the whole situation, squatted next to Hazard and patted him on the leg. "Hazard is crying. Hazard is sad," she said.
"It's okay, Boots; everybody is fine," said Gregor, picking her up for a hug.
"No, we are not fine. We have seen the scythe," said Hazard.
"And yet we still live," said Luxa, stroking his curls.
"Yes, perhaps that mark was meant for someone else," said Howard.
"Or they made it during the plague," said Luxa. "Before the cure was found and all warmbloods were as good as dead."
Hazard quieted a minute to consider this. "I don't know," he said. "In the jungle everyone dreads the mark."
"Did you ever see it yourself? In the jungle, I mean," said Gregor.
"Once. There was a swarm of flying insects. Their bite brought quick death," said Hazard.
"But you did not die, Hazard," said Howard encouragingly. "Or you would not be here to tell us of it."
"My mother died," said Hazard wanly. "Frill outran them, but my mother was bitten first."
There was nothing to say after that. No explaining to Hazard that they were safe. Around any corner could be another swarm of stingers. Another plague. Another way to die.
Some mouse had scratched that mark in the cave wall. Cevian had made the same mark at Queenshead. Why? What threat was upon them? Gregor didn't believe it had to do with the plague. Or the snakes.
"Hazard, when you lived in the jungle, how did the nibblers get along with the snakes?"
asked Gregor. "The ones that look like vines."
"You mean the twisters?" said Hazard. "They avoided each other. The twisters eat the nibbler pups, and the nibblers eat the twister eggs," he said.
"It is true," said Luxa. "The twisters never came near the nibblers when I was there. I believe neither thought it was worth the risk."
"So you think the twisters only moved in after the mice had left?" asked Howard.
"That is my hope," said Luxa. "But also my fear. It would mean that not one but two colonies of nibblers have left their homes because of an unknown threat."
"It sounds as if they have a lot of enemies," said Gregor. "The spinners, the cutters —"
"Those were land disputes. Once the nibblers had left their regions, neither the spinners nor cutters had any interest in pursuing them. I can think of only one animal that would do that,"
said Howard.
No one had to mention the rats. They all knew who Howard was talking about.
They had snacked from the picnic baskets on the flight, mostly eating whatever was on top. Now Howard laid out the delicacies the cook had prepared. Spicy fish salads, a dozen kinds of cheese, pickled vegetables, roasted chicken, sliced beef, stuffed eggs, several loaves of bread, and a variety of sweets. It was an amazing spread, but no one really enjoyed it except Boots. She ate until her belly stuck out like a basketball. "See?" she said to Gregor, pulling up her shirt. He poked her stomach and shook his head. "Talk about eating like a shiner!" he said. She was probably about to hit a growth spurt. At least, he hoped so.
By the time the picnic was over, everyone was dropping from fatigue. Except Boots, who'd had a nice long nap on the trip and was ready to play. They broke up guard duty into two-hour shifts. Gregor and Temp volunteered
Similar Books
