“Iggy! Iggy!” All of us were shouting and trying to rush him at once. He made a wry Iggy-face that I interpreted as deep happiness to be here. I edged closer and tried to hug him without getting our wings tangled. We managed sort of an arm’s length air kiss. The boys slapped high fives with him, and Nudge and Angel managed air kisses too.
“I went by the school,” he said. “They seem to be having a bad day.”
I gave a dry laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Do I hear a ruckus down below?” Iggy asked.
“You do indeed,” I said, then I realized that he was here. “Oh, no—Iggy. What happened?”
“Well,” he said, his face grim, “they didn’t mind the wings. In fact, they loved the wings. Especially since they got eight different publishers and magazines into a bidding war for the all-exclusive rights to my life story, complete with photographs and interviews with the freak himself.” His voice was indescribably bitter.
“Oh, no,” I said. “They were going to tell people?”
“They were going to turn me into a sideshow freak,” Iggy said. “I mean, a really public one.”
I beat back the rush of joy I felt at having him here and let my sympathy get some air.
“I’m so sorry, Ig,” I said, reaching out to rub his shoulder. “I thought they were the real thing.”
“That’s just it,” he said, anger showing on his face. “Maybe they were. I don’t know. Maybe they weren’t. But they felt like the real thing, and the real thing wanted to make money off me.”
I couldn’t help reaching out to touch him again. “I’m so sorry, Iggy, really. But I’m so happy you’re back.”
“I’m glad to be back too,” said Iggy. “Even before they went nuts on me, I just missed you guys too much.”
“This is great, and we’ll have a group hug later,” Fang interrupted, “but can we pay attention to what’s happening below?”
Oh, right. Way down below, Jeb, Ari, and Anne were still shouting at one another. Teams of Erasers were starting to report back, since obviously we weren’t on the premises. Several of them shaded their eyes to look up at us, five hundred feet in the air.
“Hmm,” I said. “Something’s missing down below. Some important puzzle piece. Oh, I know: It’s me. Hang on, guys.” I folded my wings and aimed myself downward.
91
I shot toward the ground at two hundred miles an hour. It was a total rush, over in a split second, and then I was braking, snapping my wings out to catch the air. I began running before my feet hit the ground, and came to a stop fifteen feet from the Terrible Trio.
Aware of the Erasers at my back, I walked up to Anne, Jeb, and Ari.
“Well, looks like the gang’s all here,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Anne, meet Jeb. Jeb, meet Anne. Oh, sorry . . . looks like you two already know each other really well!”
“Hello, sweetheart,” Jeb said, gazing at me as if I held the secret to the world. Oh, wait, I guess I did.
“I’m not your sweet anything,” I said.
“No—you’re mine,” Ari spit, pacing angrily.
“In your nightmares,” I said, sounding bored, and he lunged at me, snarling. Jeb shot out an arm and held him back. Anne looked at me with concern.
“Are you all right?” she said. “I got a call from the school—”
“I bet you did,” I said. “Their school emergency plan went to heck in a handbasket. Well, they were too rigid anyway.” I turned back to Jeb. “What do you want? Every time you show up, my life nose-dives. And believe me, it’s not that far till I hit rock bottom.”
“You got that right.” Ari sneered.
“Shut up, dog boy,” I said. I felt sorry for the seven-year-old Ari who’d been victimized. This creature shared no part of him.
“Max, as always, I’m here to help,” said Jeb, channeling sincerity. “This . . . experiment isn’t working out. I’m here to help you get to the next phase.”
“You’re out of bounds here,” said Anne angrily. “This is my situation.”