The Mysterious Invitation

Gregor had not thought about the Underland for three days, a new record of forgetfulness for him, because for months he had begun every day and ended every night wishing he could return. Life above, though strange after all he had endured, was finally beginning to take on a rhythm again. School, his family, and the streets of New York were a far cry from caverns echoing with the flap of bat wings and the clash of steel. Still, sometimes when he closed his eyes, he could hear the whispers of that world and his friends waiting for him beneath the earth.

It was on a gray morning in late autumn when the invitation arrived. Gregor had just returned from taking Boots to daycare when he found an envelope addressed to him resting on the apartment’s worn kitchen table. His mother swore she hadn’t seen anyone deliver it, and yet there it was, sealed with dark violet wax bearing the unmistakable mark of a crown encircled by wings. His hands trembled as he broke the seal.

“To Gregor the Overlander, chosen warrior, loyal friend, and bond of Regalia—by order of the Council and in honor of Queen Luxa’s sixteenth birthday coronation, you are summoned to the city beneath. Your presence is requested on the eve of the full moon, three nights hence.”

Gregor’s heart skipped. Luxa. Queen Luxa. Sixteen. The image of her—fiery eyes, sharp words, and a will stronger than steel—rushed into his mind. He had not seen her since the war, when he had left the Underland with a heart heavy and too many goodbyes, but he was too young to stay. He had to go where his parents wanted to go, back home. He remembered the look in Luxa’s eyes, a mixture of anger, sorrow, and longing, when he had turned away. Now she would be queen, and the Council wanted him there to see the coronation. He had turned seventeen more than a year before, and now he might be able to celebrate her birthday and coronation. Would she still be as beautiful as he remembered her?

But how could he return? His mother had forbidden it. His family had suffered too much already. And yet, when he glanced at the invitation again, he felt the pull, deep and insistent. The Underland had not finished with him. And he hoped he might not be finished with their new queen.

That night, he lay awake long after his family slept. The city outside buzzed with cars and sirens, but his thoughts were far away once again, wandering caverns lit by glowing moss and torches, hearing the low hum of bats’ wings. He remembered Ares—his bond, lost forever. The ache still cut through him like a blade. Could he face that world again without the great black bat at his side? Could he face Luxa, after all the words left unsaid?

And yet, if he didn’t go, he would never know. He would never see what had become of the girl who had fought beside him, who had carried the weight of leadership long before her years. He would never see her take her throne. He might never see her again.

For two nights he tossed and turned unable to sleep.

It was still pitch-black outside when he heard something slide under his bedroom door. He got up and found a note in his dad’s handwriting.

“Dear Son,

Your mother and I have taught you to follow your heart and live by faith and not by fear—or the fears of others. You have always done this, even during the many dangers you faced in the Underland, and you have made the right decisions. Whether you choose to go to the Inauguration of Queen Luxa or stay here, you have our blessing. Vikus said we could travel to and from the Underland whenever we liked. We will see each other again.

Love Dad and Mom,”

Gregor’s heart filled with happiness and thanksgiving. He had not wanted to disobey his parents. Without a word to anyone, he made his decision and slipped away from his apartment. He carried nothing but a small backpack with his best clothes and the invitation. Boots stirred in her sleep as he kissed her forehead, whispering promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. His mother would be sad, but something in his chest told him he had no choice and he had her blessing. He was 17 now. No one better than he knew what was best for him—and maybe for Luxa on her special day.

The journey down was as he remembered. He had unblocked the grate in the laundry room the day before, but it opened with a creak. Soon he was descending into the dark, the air growing colder, damper, until the shadows seemed to swallow him whole. He half expected to see Temp or Tick scurrying along the walls, but the tunnels were empty save for echoes of dripping water.

Then came the sound—wings. A soft rush of air stirred his hair, and Gregor looked up to see a massive form descending. For one wild heartbeat, he thought it might be Ares. But no—this bat’s wings were gray streaked with silver, its eyes older, calmer.

“Gregor the Overlander,” the bat said, bowing its head. “I am called Nyctis. The Council has sent me to bear you to Regalia.”

Gregor swallowed hard, climbed onto the creature’s back, and soon the tunnels blurred as they sped toward the Underland’s heart.