Angel joined me, then Iggy, the Gasman, Nudge, and Fang.
Looking down, I couldn’t help laughing at everyone’s faces. “Astonished” doesn’t cover it. They were stunned, dumbstruck, completely freaked out.
“Jerk!” the Gasman yelled, and pelted the manager with pieces of bread.
Fang was circling the ceiling, looking for a way out. I saw that the cops had started to recover and were fanning out.
I won’t lie to you—it was hilarious. Yes, we were in trouble, yes, this was a d
isaster, and so on and so forth, but I have to say, seeing all those upturned faces, the looks, was about the best thing that had happened to us since we’d come to New York.
“Up here!” Fang shouted, and pointed to one of the stained-glass skylights.
“Come on, guys!” I yelled, just as I realized that flashes from cameras were going off—seriously bad news. “Let’s go!”
Fang ducked his head, covered it with his arms, and flew straight up through the window. It burst with a rainbow-colored crash, and bits of glass sprinkled down.
Iggy was right behind Nudge, his fingers brushing her ankle, and they flew through next, tucking their wings in at the last second to fit.
“Angel, go!” I ordered, and she shot through, her small white wings looking just like Celeste’s. “Gasser! Move it!” I saw him swoop down one last time to grab someone’s abandoned dessert. Shoving an entire éclair into his mouth, he nodded and aimed himself through the window. I went last, and then I was in the open air, stretching my wings, filling my lungs. I knew we had just made a crucial, devastating mistake and that we’d have to pay for it.
But you know what? It was almost worth it.
The looks on all those faces . . .
106
“To the trees,” I told Fang, and he nodded, making a big circle to head north. It was a hazy day, but we weren’t high enough to be out of sight. I hoped no one was looking up. Yeah, right.
We dropped down into a tall maple, breathing hard.
“That went well,” said Fang, brushing glass dust off his shoulders.
“It was my fault,” said the Gasman. He had chocolate on his face. “I’m the one who wanted to go there.”
“It was their fault, Gazzy,” I said. “I bet those weren’t even real cops. They had an eau de School air about them.”
“You didn’t think before you dumped the olive oil on the waiter, did you?” Fang asked.
I scowled at him.
“I’m still . . .” Nudge began, then let her voice trail off. I’m guessing she was about to say “hungry,” but then realized it wasn’t a good time.
But we were still hungry. We did have to have food. As soon as my adrenaline calmed down, I would go find a grocery store or something.
“People were taking pictures,” Iggy said.
“Yeah,” I said miserably. “As an unqualified disaster, this ranks right up there.”
“And it’s getting worse,” said a smooth voice.
I jumped about a foot in the air, then clutched my branch and looked down.
Our tree was surrounded by Erasers.
Without meaning to, I shot a stricken glance at Iggy: He was usually our early-warning system. If he hadn’t heard these guys coming, then they’d materialized out of nowhere.
One Eraser stepped forward, and I caught my breath. It was Ari.