Gregor and the Curse of the Warmbloods-3 by Suzanne Collins Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzanne Collins
doctor peered at Gregor's slide, she frowned and adjusted the microscope several times.
"Just say it," Gregor thought. "I've got the plague. I know I do."
To his relief, Neveeve lifted her head and gave them her first smile. "All clear."
Gregor let out his breath in a huff. "Now what?"
"Now if you sit, I will check your scalp for fleas," said Neveeve.
"Fleas? That boy doesn't have fleas," said his mother indignantly. Gregor couldn't help laughing. "We don't even have a pet."
"I am sorry, but it is essential we do this," said Vikus. "The fleas carry the plague from creature to creature. Neveeve's early recognition of this explains why we have only three cases in Regalia, and hundreds of rats have been stricken."
Suddenly, being checked for fleas wasn't so funny.
When they had all been pronounced flealess, Vikus invited them to rest before the meeting. "It will be at least another hour before all those attending are tested. Come and refresh yourselves."
Vikus led them to a beautiful room. The walls were carved with soft, swirling patterns.
Elegant furniture circled a roaring fireplace. There were even potted plants dripping with pink flowers. Underlanders appeared with trays of pretty food and a couple of musicians came in with stringed instruments and asked if Gregor's mom desired music. Gregor figured all the hoopla must have been for her benefit. He and Boots had never received this kind of attention.
"You didn't tell me it was this nice," said his mother.
"It's not, usually. I think somebody's trying to impress you...Mother of Our Light," said Gregor. She rolled her eyes but he could tell she was a little pleased.
Gregor looked at her sitting on the couch, still in her waitress uniform, and thought that if anyone deserved a little star treatment, if was his mom. He would have liked to stay himself —
the music was unlike any he'd ever heard — but there was something he had to do.
"I'm going to run down to the bathroom," he told his mom.
Once he rounded the door, he did run, but not for the bathroom. He took the first flight of stairs and started down it, two steps at a time. The hospital was on one of the lower levels. That must be where they were keeping Ares.
Either he was getting better at navigating the palace, or he was just lucky, because he made it to the hospital quickly. The Underland doctors were surprised to see him, and even more surprised by his request.
"Yes," said one doctor doubtfully. "It is possible to see him. But you will not be able to converse. He is quarantined behind thick walls of glass."
"Okay, well then, I'll just, you know, wave or whatever. I just want him to see I'm here,"
said Gregor. If Ripred was right and Ares was hanging on only because he thought Gregor was coming, then he had to make contact.
The doctor led him to a long corridor. "There. He is to the passage on your right. You do know...he is very ill."
"I know," said Gregor. "I won't do anything to get him worked up or anything." He knew you were supposed to be quiet around people in hospitals. Before the doctor could change his mind, Gregor hurried down the corridor. He was suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing his friend after all these months. He wanted Ares to know that it would be okay now. He was here. A cure would be found. They would fly together again. His feet picked up speed, and he had to suppress the impulse to run. He whipped around the corner into another hall. On one side was a long glass wall.
Gregor looked through the glass and saw his bat.
Then he leaned over and threw up.
***
CHAPTER 7
Gregor crouched over as his dinner spewed onto the stone floor, splattering into the glass wall and onto his boots. Another wave of nausea hit him and he retched again. And again.
A cool hand touched the back of his neck, and a woman's sympathetic voice said, "Come, Overlander. Come with me." She led him to a nearby bathroom. He found himself gripping the sides of one of the
"Just say it," Gregor thought. "I've got the plague. I know I do."
To his relief, Neveeve lifted her head and gave them her first smile. "All clear."
Gregor let out his breath in a huff. "Now what?"
"Now if you sit, I will check your scalp for fleas," said Neveeve.
"Fleas? That boy doesn't have fleas," said his mother indignantly. Gregor couldn't help laughing. "We don't even have a pet."
"I am sorry, but it is essential we do this," said Vikus. "The fleas carry the plague from creature to creature. Neveeve's early recognition of this explains why we have only three cases in Regalia, and hundreds of rats have been stricken."
Suddenly, being checked for fleas wasn't so funny.
When they had all been pronounced flealess, Vikus invited them to rest before the meeting. "It will be at least another hour before all those attending are tested. Come and refresh yourselves."
Vikus led them to a beautiful room. The walls were carved with soft, swirling patterns.
Elegant furniture circled a roaring fireplace. There were even potted plants dripping with pink flowers. Underlanders appeared with trays of pretty food and a couple of musicians came in with stringed instruments and asked if Gregor's mom desired music. Gregor figured all the hoopla must have been for her benefit. He and Boots had never received this kind of attention.
"You didn't tell me it was this nice," said his mother.
"It's not, usually. I think somebody's trying to impress you...Mother of Our Light," said Gregor. She rolled her eyes but he could tell she was a little pleased.
Gregor looked at her sitting on the couch, still in her waitress uniform, and thought that if anyone deserved a little star treatment, if was his mom. He would have liked to stay himself —
the music was unlike any he'd ever heard — but there was something he had to do.
"I'm going to run down to the bathroom," he told his mom.
Once he rounded the door, he did run, but not for the bathroom. He took the first flight of stairs and started down it, two steps at a time. The hospital was on one of the lower levels. That must be where they were keeping Ares.
Either he was getting better at navigating the palace, or he was just lucky, because he made it to the hospital quickly. The Underland doctors were surprised to see him, and even more surprised by his request.
"Yes," said one doctor doubtfully. "It is possible to see him. But you will not be able to converse. He is quarantined behind thick walls of glass."
"Okay, well then, I'll just, you know, wave or whatever. I just want him to see I'm here,"
said Gregor. If Ripred was right and Ares was hanging on only because he thought Gregor was coming, then he had to make contact.
The doctor led him to a long corridor. "There. He is to the passage on your right. You do know...he is very ill."
"I know," said Gregor. "I won't do anything to get him worked up or anything." He knew you were supposed to be quiet around people in hospitals. Before the doctor could change his mind, Gregor hurried down the corridor. He was suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing his friend after all these months. He wanted Ares to know that it would be okay now. He was here. A cure would be found. They would fly together again. His feet picked up speed, and he had to suppress the impulse to run. He whipped around the corner into another hall. On one side was a long glass wall.
Gregor looked through the glass and saw his bat.
Then he leaned over and threw up.
***
CHAPTER 7
Gregor crouched over as his dinner spewed onto the stone floor, splattering into the glass wall and onto his boots. Another wave of nausea hit him and he retched again. And again.
A cool hand touched the back of his neck, and a woman's sympathetic voice said, "Come, Overlander. Come with me." She led him to a nearby bathroom. He found himself gripping the sides of one of the
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