metallic clank. As it flew through the air, its awkward limbs flailing, Tick noticed a flash of steel. Another creature followed its companion, then another, then another. By the time the leader had jumped down to the next balcony, the dozen or so others had reached the first one. Balcony to balcony, down they came.
Straight for Tick’s group.
“This is gonna be trouble,” Paul said.
A sharp pain built behind Tick’s eyes, his mind spinning in all kinds of directions. He knew these mechanical spiders must be like the Gnat Rat or the Tingle Wraith, things sent by Master George to test them. At least he hoped they were from Master George.
“‘Inside the words of the words inside,’” Sofia said in a burst, her eyes widening in revelation. “‘Inside the words of the words inside!’”
The spider-things were two levels away, close enough for Tick to make out their features. The long, spindly legs were jointed metal, supporting a round ball of steel with all kinds of devices jutting from its body—spinning blades and sharp knives. The clanking and clicking and whirring of the hor-rible creatures made Tick’s insides boil.
Sofia grabbed Tick’s arm. “ The words inside. Those three words are the main part of the riddle!”
The answer hit Tick like a catapulted stone. Anna Graham. Rearranging. Tick had always loved the puzzles in the Sunday paper, everything from Sudoku to number pyramids, but one game had always been a favorite . . .
Anna Graham.
“Anagram!” he yelled, probably looking insane to his friends because of the huge smile that spread across his face. The clanking sounds of the oncoming metal-spiders grew louder.
“Yeah, but who is she?” Paul asked. “How do we find her?”
“No, no,” Tick said. “Not a name—a thing. An anagram.”
“What the heck is an anagram?” Paul asked, stealing a glance at the creatures, now only seconds away from reaching them.
Sofia answered. “It’s when the letters of a word or phrase are rearranged to spell something else.”
“Yeah,” Tick said. “Whatever we’re looking for must be an anagram of ‘the words inside. ’”
“Yes!” Sofia yelled.
But their joy was short-lived. The first spider landed on their table with a horrible crash.
~
The boy named Henry ran, bumping into people, bouncing off them, falling to the ground, getting back up—running, always running. He’d hardly said one word to a stranger his whole life, living in fear of the metaspides and their all-seeing eye. They were always there, waiting, watching.
But he’d done his job. He’d said the words, delivered the message. In doing so, he’d made enough money to buy medicine for his mom for another six months. He knew the docs were overcharging him, but he had no choice. He didn’t want his mom to die.
The creepy man who’d offered him the job stood in the same spot, lurking inside an alcove between two pubs. The man had paid him half the money beforehand, promising the other half when the deed was done. Henry walked up to him and held out his shaking hand. When they made eye contact, he couldn’t help but take a step backward.
The man looked at the boy with fierce eyes, his brow tensed in anger, his dark hair hanging in his face. A long pause followed, filled with the sounds of the metaspides launching an attack behind him.
“You did it, then?” the man said. “You think you deserve some money, do you?”
“Y-y-yes, sir,” Henry replied.
“So you do, boy. You deserve every penny. I’m a businessman, you know, and I’ve never faltered on a deal in my life.” He reached out and tousled Henry’s hair. “It’s why I am who I am. Where do you think the metaspides came from, anyway?”
Henry shrugged, wishing with all his heart he could get away from this strange, scary man.
The tall stranger reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills, which he placed in Henry’s hand. “Take this, boy, and use it wisely.”
“Yes, sir,”