Free Gregor and the Prophecy of Bane - 2 by Suzanne Collins

It was very late here — probably about the time he'd come into the city the previous night — and everyone was asleep. He got lost and couldn't find anyone to give him directions. As he was wandering around, looking for a guard, he came upon the wooden door that shut off the room filled with Sandwich's prophecies.

    The door was cracked open. This was strange; he thought they kept it locked all the time.
    Someone must be inside. He pushed the door open wider and stepped in. "Hello? Anybody in here?"

    At first he thought the room was empty. The lamp was still lit under "The Prophecy of Bane," but no one appeared to be reading it. Then he heard a faint rustling sound in the far corner, and she stepped into the light.

    "Oh!" Gregor jumped, not just because he was startled but because the sight of her was spooky. He had only seen Nerissa Once. She had been saying good-bye to her brother, Henry, as they left on the quest. He remembered she was very thin and seemed nervous. She had given him a copy of "The Prophecy of Gray" to take on his journey. Luxa had told him she could see the future or something.

    If she had been thin before, she was now emaciated. Her eyes shone huge and hollow in the torchlight. Where Luxa had lilac circles under her eyes, Nerissa's were underscored with dark purple crescents. Her hair, which fell down far below her waist, was loose and tangled. Even though she was wrapped in a thick cloak, she acted like she was freezing.

    "Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to — I'm just — I was just looking for sleeping — I mean, looking for where I sleep. My bedroom. Sorry." Gregor started to back out of the room.

    "No, wait, Overlander," Nerissa said in a tremulous voice. "Stay a moment."

    "Oh, okay, sure," Gregor said, wishing very badly he could get out of there. "So, how've you been, Nerissa?" he said, and then cringed. How did he think she'd been?

    "I have been unwell," Nerissa said tiredly. But it was not self-pitying, which somehow made it sadder.

    "Look, I'm sorry about your brother, about Henry," said Gregor.

    "I think it is best he is dead," said Nerissa.

    "You do?" Gregor said, taken aback by her bluntness.

    "When one considers the alternatives," said Nerissa. "Had he been successful in banding with the gnawers, we would all be dead. You, your sister, your father. All of my people. Henry, too. But, of course, I miss him greatly."

    Well, she might be a wreck, but Nerissa was not afraid to look things in the eye. "Do you know why he did it?" Gregor ventured to ask.

    "He was afraid. I know that. And I think somehow in his mind he felt that joining with the rats would give him the security he longed for," said Nerissa.

    "He was wrong," said Gregor.

    "Was he?" Nerissa said, and she smiled. Which was extra spooky.

    "I thought so. Didn't you just say...if he'd got his way, we'd all be dead?" said Gregor.
    Maybe she was kind of crazy, after all.

    "Oh, yes. His methods were undoubtedly flawed." Nerissa lost interest in their conversation and wandered over to "The Prophecy of Bane." Her bony fingers reached up and ran slowly across the letters, as if she were reading Braille. "And what of you, Warrior? Are you ready to face the Bane?"

    The Bane. Ripred had said something about the Bane. "You mean...the prophecy?"

    Gregor asked, confused.

    "Vikus did not tell you? We call the white rat 'the Bane,'" said Nerissa. "Do you know what that means?"

    "Not exactly," Gregor admitted. - "It means a scourge," said Nerissa.

    Wow, that was helpful. A scourge. "Still not clear," said Gregor.

    "A calamity, an affliction." Nerissa searched his face for signs of understanding. "A very bad thing," she said finally.

    "Oh, I got you," said Gregor. "Well, yeah, the rat. Vikus says I'm a threat to it or something. I'm supposed to help you guys kill it."

    Nerissa looked bewildered. "Help us? Oh, no, Gregor, you must drain its light. See, it is written here." Her fingers rapidly passed over a line on the wall.

    Will