And then it hit him right between the eyes.
“Ow!” he yelled, knocking it away, forehead and hand stinging. But then Tess and Theo were knocking away more of the moths, an enormous cloud of them, a great heaving shudder of them, all streaming from the face of the clock and heading right for them.
“Run!” yelled Jaime.
They tore from the library, skidded down the marble corridor, flung themselves into the elevator, frantically slapped at the keypad. L for Lobby, 1, 2, 5, close, close, close, please close already. The doors shut so slowly, so slowly, as the air beyond them shattered with the sound of a million metal wings. And then the doors were shut and the elevator was dropping, dropping, dropping, straight down, no detours, no melancholy twists and turns, just a stomach-churning plummet from top to bottom, so fast that for just one moment they were weightless as moths hovering in the air. Then the car landed so hard it slammed them all to the floor, but they didn’t have one second to catch their breath before the doors opened again, pitching them into the lobby.
Right at the feet of Mr. Stoop and Mr. Pinscher.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Tess
“Well!” said Mr. Stoop. “If it isn’t our old friends!”
“They’re not my friends,” said Mr. Pinscher.
“Now, now, we shouldn’t be rude, Mr. Pinscher.”
“Why not?” said Mr. Pinscher.
“That,” said Mr. Stoop, “is a good question. Another good question: What is that you have in your hand, Miss, Miss . . . What was her name again, Mr. Pinscher?”
“Pain in the Butt,” said Mr. Pinscher.
“I don’t believe that’s her given name.”
Mr. Pinscher shrugged. “That’s the name I gave her.”
Up until that moment, Tess had forgotten she had anything in her hand, but when she looked down, she was still holding the dragon handle of the cane. She sat up.
“Why don’t you toss that to me,” said Mr. Stoop, “and we’ll let you all go without any further fuss.”
Tess didn’t want to give these men anything. Not the dragon, not anything.
“Listen,” she said. “My mom knows where we are and she’s coming to pick us up in a few minutes.”
“Liar,” said Mr. Stoop, in a singsong sort of voice.
“Children always lie,” said Mr. Pinscher. “Little lying liars.”
“You didn’t tell your mother what you were going to do. You wouldn’t dare. Give me what you’ve found,” said Mr. Stoop.
Ever so faintly, Tess heard the chime of the clock. Or maybe she was imagining it.
What she didn’t imagine: the elevator doors closing behind her. She scrambled to her feet.
“No . . . ,” she began. But how to explain that they put a cane in a clock and were chased away by moths? What did that mean? And why should she tell them?
But she needed them to let her and Jaime and Theo go. “Listen, I think something is going to happen. Something is happening right now.”
“We all have to get out of here,” Jaime said.
“You do,” said Mr. Pinscher.
“Who is controlling the elevator?” said Theo, watching the numbers flash over the doors.
“I will not be distracted by this ridiculous, malfunctioning, crumbling old hut!” shouted Mr. Stoop.
Theo said, “Technically—”
“We have been here all month searching this, this, this”—Mr. Stoop twirled his hand in the air, searching for the right word—“this pile of bricks and I am done. Done! So, young lady, you’d better give me what you have in your hand and tell me exactly where you found it or I will have to call in reinforcements.”
“We’re allowed to be here until midnight,” Jaime said. “The cops won’t do anything.”
“Who said I was going to call the police?” said Mr. Stoop.
Theo was still watching the elevator. “Abi thabink thabe maboths abare cabomabing abon thabe abelabevabatabor.”
Jaime said, “Mabe taboo.”
“What are you two yammmering about?” said Mr. Stoop.
Jaime’s expression was pure innocence. “What?”
“Mabovabe abawabay frabom thabe daboabors,” said Tess. “Gabet rabeadaby tabo rabun.”
“Stop mumbling!” Mr. Stoop said.
“Why do you work for Slant?” said Tess. “Why are you doing this to us? Why do you want to toss people from their homes? This isn’t fair.”
“Fair?” said Mr. Stoop. “Oh my goodness! Didn’t they teach you in kindergarten that the world isn’t fair? Nothing is fair, stupid girl. Do you think this is the worst thing that could happen to you? The worst thing that will ever happen?”
Tess said, “What happened to you?”
Mr. Pinscher rolled his creepy eyes. Mr. Stoop checked his watch. “It is a little early, but I don’t think this can be helped. What do you think, Mr. Pinscher?”
“I think he’s probably hungry by now,” said Mr. Pinscher.
“Who’s hungry?” said Tess.
Mr. Pinscher pulled a bag off his shoulder and set it on the floor. He opened the flap and gave a low whistle. Inside the bag, a flutter of movement. More moths? thought Tess. But no, a weird leathery-looking thing about the size of man’s hand crawled out of the bag. Not a bat, not a spider, not a machine—a many-legged thing, reddish and scarred. It had no eyes that Tess could see, no face.
What kind of creature has no face?
“He doesn’t have a mouth, either,” said Mr. Stoop, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. “But he does love to eat. I gave him a whole cow once. It was gone in an hour. Except the feet. He doesn’t much care for feet.”
Nine lowered her head and growled.
“I’d be careful with your kitty,” said Mr. Stoop. “Our little friend here loves kitties, but not in a way you’d appreciate.”
The leathery thing raised one leg in the air, tap, tap, tapped the floor.
It seemed like a challenge.
Nine growled again, hackles rising, straining against her leash. Impossibly, she seemed larger.
The leathery thing tapped. Tapped again. Bring it.
Nine panted, showing her incisors. Are you sure?
“No, Nine,” said Tess. She risked a glance at the elevator. How many loops around the building was it going to make?
Mr. Stoop held his hand out. “Give me what you’re holding, Miss, and I’ll call off my friend.”
“No, you won’t,” said Mr. Pinscher.
Mr. Stoop clucked his tongue in annoyance. “Mr. Pinscher, I do wish you’d stop with the spoilers. It ruins the suspense for everyone.”
There was a loud metallic bang. They all looked around.
“Okay, now it’s the dumbwaiter,” said Theo.
Mr. Stoop shook his head. “The dumbwaiter is welded shut. It hasn’t worked in years. Nothing in this building has worked properly in years. Why people are so determined to stay here I simply don’t understand when there are perfectly lovely apartments in Ohio.”
“If the dumbwaiter is broken, what’s it doing?” said Jaime, pointing. The brass door of the dumbwaiter quivered, as if it were straining against its own lock.
“What did you foolish children put in the dumbwaiter?” said Mr. Stoop.
“Nothing!” said Tess.
“Then who did you put in the dumbwaiter?” said Mr. Pinscher. “Is it that raccoon again? I don’t like that raccoon.”