Read Gregor the Overlander - 1 for Free Online Page B

discovered the pool had a bench around it. When he sat down, the water licked his ears.

    A current washed over him, releasing the knots in his shoulders and back. Gregor cut the surface of the pool with his hand, and the water ran through his fingers. Like the water in the toilet, it flowed in one end of the bath and out the other.

    "It must be some kind of underground stream," he thought.

    He sat straight up as the idea hit him. The water came from somewhere! It went somewhere!

CHAPTER 6
    Gregor scrubbed himself down using a sponge and Ml some gloopy stuff he found in a bowl by the pool. He lathered his hair and even cleaned inside his ears wanting to get every bit of Overlander smell off him. If he was going to try to escape, he needed to be as indistinguishable from his hosts as possible.

    On hooks by the pool hung a row of white towels. Gregor couldn't identify the thick woven fabric. "Sure not cotton," he muttered, but the towel was soft and absorbed water much better than the thin, worn ones they used at home.

    He walked back into the changing room drying his hair and found his clothes had disappeared. In their place was a neat pile of smoky blue garments. A shirt, pants, and what seemed to be underwear. They were much finer than the towels -- the cloth ran silkily through his fingers. "What is this stuff?" he wondered, slipping into the shirt.

    He slid his feet into a pair of braided straw sandals and padded out of the changing room.
    Mareth and Perdita were waiting.

    "So, what happened to my clothes?" asked Gregor.

    "They have been burned," said Mareth apprehensively. Gregor sensed Mareth was afraid he'd be mad.

    "It is most dangerous to keep them," said Perdita, by way of explanation. "The ash carries no scent."

    Gregor shrugged to show he didn't care. "That's cool," he said. "These fit me fine."

    Mareth and Perdita looked grateful. "After a few days of our food, you will be without much odor, too," said Perdita encouragingly.

    "That'll be nice," said Gregor dryly. These Underlanders were sure obsessed with his smell.

    Dulcet emerged from the left side of the bathroom carrying a squeaky clean Boots. She had on a soft, rose-colored shirt, and a clean diaper made from the same material as Gregor's bath towel. She extended her leg and pointed proudly to the new sandal on her foot. "San-da,"
    she said to Gregor.

    He stuck out his foot to show her his shoes. "Me, too," he said. He assumed they'd burned Boots's clothes, as well. He tried to remember what she'd been wearing in case he had to explain the missing stuff to his mom. One dirty diaper, no loss. One pair of scuffed pink sandals her feet were growing out of, anyway. One stained T-shirt. It would probably be okay.

    Gregor didn't know exactly what he would tell his mom about the Underland. The truth would scare her to death. He'd work out something when they got back to the laundry room, but the sooner that happened, the simpler the story could be.

    Boots reached out her arms and Gregor took her, pressing his nose into her damp curls.
    She smelled fresh and a bit like the ocean.

    "She is well grown," said Dulcet. "Your arms must be tired." She went back into the changing room and came out with some kind of pack. It fitted on his back with straps, and Boots could ride in it looking over his shoulder. He had seen people carrying kids in specially designed backpacks, but his family didn't have money for that sort of stuff.

    "Thanks," he said casually, but he was secretly elated. It would be a lot easier to escape with Boots in a backpack than in his arms.

    Dulcet led them up several staircases and through a maze of halls. They eventually wound up in a long room that opened out on to a balcony.

    "We call this the High Hall," said Dulcet.

    "I think you guys forgot the roof," said Gregor. While the walls were decorated with the greatest care, there was nothing but the black cavern above their heads.

    Dulcet laughed. "Oh, no, it is meant to be so. We