Kingdom Keepers VI (9781423179214) (19 page)

Finn moved slowly between the wood cabinets that housed fresh towels, using them as screens. He felt exposed and at risk out here. He'd already gone over the rail once. He had no intention of ever doing so again.

A tall figure passed far on the starboard side of the ship, heading forward. Finn recognized the man's clothing as that of a Cast Member—khaki shorts and a white polo shirt. It felt strange that the Cast Member didn't acknowledge him, didn't look in his direction, not even once. Typically they were so outgoing. He wanted to say this guy was just at the end of a long day, but it didn't feel right; he found himself looking back at the man and walking faster.

Deck 11 had been a stupid choice. It required him to go through an empty Cabanas restaurant to reach the stern stairs. Being inside the closed cafeteria gave Finn chills. He saw OTs jumping out from every shadow. By the time he finally descended the aft stairs, he was a nervous wreck. He caught the eyes of Storey Ming at the landing of Deck 4—only the eyes, peering out of the shadows. That didn't help things any.

When he arrived on Deck 3 he found himself alone. It took him a minute to settle down. Animator's Palate occupied most of the stern. The landing on Deck 3 formed a kind of room, with closed doors to the restaurant to starboard and a narrow corridor leading
to bathrooms and the restaurant's main entrance to
port. He waited, checking his Wave Phone for the time.

One of the port-side doors opened. The girl with the red highlights appeared.

“In here,” she said.

Finn hesitated.
A trap?
The plan had been to stay on the stairway landing, giving them plenty of options for escape.

“I'm waiting for someone,” he said.

The girl swung the door open wider, revealing Amanda. Amanda smiled a bit uncertainly at Finn. For a moment, his Charlene-guilt overwhelmed him. He wanted to run to her, to apologize for something that she didn't even know about. But he caught himself.
Not the
time
. He looked around—how could he tell the others
they were going off plan? He entered the dark restaurant. The girl eased the door shut quietly. It clicked into place.

Animator's Palate was cleverly divided into a dozen smaller areas almost like rooms, each with several large hi-def televisions mounted on the walls. The televisions were the only source of light: they were like windows into the sea around the ship; blue bubbling water with schools of animated fish and the giant sea turtle “dude,” Crush, swimming about.

The three sat at a table relatively near the side door.

Finn and Amanda said with their eyes what both of them had wanted to hear: they'd missed each other. Finn felt like he could breathe again. He drank in a deep lungful of air and felt stress dissipate. Amanda didn't show anything more—just that one look, but she couldn't take it back!

“This is Mattie Weaver,” Amanda's hologram said.

“You
know
her?” Finn asked.

“We're friends from Baltimore,” Mattie said, extending her hand to Finn. They shook.

“A Fairlie?”

Mattie nodded.

“Jess and I asked her to be on the ship. To help you guys out.”

Finn looked at the two girls. “You know each other,” he repeated, feeling stupid for having done so.

“When Jess and I realized we could only be here as…this…” Amanda said, indicating her hologram, “we thought—”

“How is she?” Finn interrupted.

“Is something wrong?” Mattie asked Amanda.

“An accident,” Amanda said. “We haven't much time; let's keep to the point.”

“Which is?” Finn found himself pulled to the action in the television screens. The peacefulness there belied his internal tension.

“I've been…watching you all,” Mattie said. “As Jess and Mandy asked. Trying to help where I could.”

“The journal. And the note.” He considered the various times she'd been spotted. “But how could you possibly… Do you realize we thought you might be an Overtaker?”

“We asked her to stay in the background,” said Amanda. “We didn't want any chance of her being associated with you, with the Keepers. She's of more value to us all that way. The only reason we're even meeting tonight is because…because…” Amanda's hologram seemed about to cry; Finn wasn't sure that was even possible.

“How much do you know about Baltimore?” the girl asked him.

“The Fairlies? A little, I guess. Not much.”

“How much of what you do know do you believe?”

“Let me put it this way: a couple of years ago I would have thought Amanda and Jess were psycho. Seriously damaged goods. But, you might say circumstances have changed. For me, I'm talking about. For the other DHI models. Meaning that there isn't much that can shock me anymore, not that I would dare try to explain any of this to a normal friend”—he thought of Dillard Cole—“for fear someone would have me locked up. But the Fairlies? Honestly? You guys are way easier to believe than most of the stuff we see. Some kids born with weird powers or whatever you want to call it? Seriously? I mean, I had to read about the Salem witch trials in middle school. Am I supposed to freak if some girl can move a book across a desk without touching it? I don't think so!”

“Do you know the word
empathy
?” Mattie asked.

“Like
sympathy
. Sure.”

“Not exactly.”

“Feeling bad for someone.”

“Actually, it's feeling
the same
. An ability to share a feeling with someone. Like something you have in common.”

“I guess I don't get what you're saying.”

“By now, half the U.S. military is probably looking for me,” Mattie said, “because they don't get it either. But they'd like to understand it better.”

“You're empathetic?” He heard her masking her concern with humor, and was reminded once again about all the risks everyone was taking.

“I am.”

“I'm sorry…I get the empathy part…but what's it mean, exactly?”

“You know fortune tellers?”

“They're all crazy ladies.”

“Most. Nearly all. But not absolutely all.”

Crush, the turtle, stopped and stared at them through the fish tank of flat panel displays. Something about that bothered Finn.
Come on.
He couldn't believe he was getting bad feelings about an animated turtle. He was really tired. Maybeck's illness and the fight with the Evil Queen had exhausted him.

“What's one of the first things a fortune teller does with a client?” Mattie sat forward, her eyes fixed intensely on Finn.

“How would I know? I've never been.”

She reached across the table, her hands asking Finn for his. But he wasn't playing. He moved his hands into his lap.

The turtle swam away.

“They touch you,” Mattie said.

“Wait a second…” Finn gave her a sideways glance.

“That's right: that's all it takes. I touch someone, and I hear them. The longer the contact, the further back the ‘conversation' goes.” She drew air quotes.

“That must get kind of creepy.”

“You have no idea. I wear gloves. Long pants when possible. Any skin contact…
presto
…all your secret thoughts.”

Finn was glad his hands were in his lap. Especially with Amanda in the immediate vicinity. He contemplated the power this kind of insight gave Mattie, and a chill went down his spine.

“A spy. The government wants you as a spy.”

She smiled. “You know them. They see all sorts of uses for me. Trouble is, they don't seem to care what
I'd
like to do.”

Like Amanda's and Jess's, Mattie's “gift” was more of a burden. Finn felt bad for her, felt worse that she'd been drawn into their intrigues.

“And you're here tonight because…?” Finn looked over at Amanda.

Amanda didn't answer. It was Mattie, instead. “Because I connected with the big guy. The bulldog.”

“Luowski. When?”

“This afternoon, during the ceremonies. He was out on Vibe's deck.”

Finn felt a nagging need to look back at the
flat-panel aquarium. He reacted without meaning to: a shark's wide head filled the screen, its jagged teeth showing.

“Now,
that's
ugly,” Amanda said.

Finn lowered his voice. “You know how this place works, don't you? Animator's? Crush talks in real time to people at the tables. The guests have conversations with a flat panel. They can do that because the Imagineers have
hidden cameras
all over the place.
Hidden micro
phones
. Making this the worst place in the world for a secret meeting. Why don't we take it outside?”

He didn't add that the Keepers were in position to help protect them outside but would be of little help in here.

“Mattie is about to tell us about Greg Luowski.”

“I'm just saying…maybe in the hallway?” Finn's eyes pleaded with Amanda's hologram. What did she have to worry about? he thought. It's not like her DHI is vulnerable.

But am I?

Finn had felt different ever since his hologram had been shocked by electricity in the
Dream
's engine room. For days now, he'd been feeling stronger and faster than before, a power that came in strange bursts of adrenaline that left him exhausted and confused. He'd also started having dreams that seemed terrifyingly real. In that moment, sitting in Animator's Palate, he added prescience to his list of new qualities.

Only seconds after he'd voiced their vulnerability, two chefs appeared across the dining room. Even from a considerable distance, two facts were apparent: the chefs had bright green eyes, and each was carrying a boatload of knives and cleavers under his arm.

Without thinking, Finn heaved up the table, forming a barrier, and pulled Mattie behind it. A Chinese cleaver slammed into the table and stuck.

A carving knife passed through the chest of Amanda's hologram; had she been present in the flesh, it would have killed her.

“You know what color this palate is missing?” called one of the men in a thickly Slavic accent.

“Red!” his pal answered.

“We can call it Dead Red. A nice addition, I think.”

Finn peered around the edge of the upright table. A knife whizzed past, removing a clump of his hair. Strands floated to the carpet.

“To the door,” he said, gripping the table. “All together.”

Thwack!
A knife lodged in the carpeted floor to either side. Finn crouched, waving Mattie and Amanda over to him; he had to keep the table low or risk having his feet diced.

“This is mine,” Amanda said.

“No,” Finn objected.

“They can't hit me,” she reminded him.

“Just don't try anything…else,” Finn hissed, looking at her. They both knew what he meant—use of her
ability to “push” would weaken her substantially, perhaps resulting in the failure of the hologram's immateriality.

“Don't tell me what to do!”

Amanda stood. A cleaver flew through her head and clattered into the far wall. The harsh sound of breaking glass filled the room—one of the flat panels.

“Amanda, no! Stop!”

But Finn was too late. Amanda picked up a chair like a lion tamer.

She has to be solid to touch it!
Finn thought, hysterical fear surging in his chest. And if she was solid, that meant—

Knives banged against the chair as Amanda marched steadily toward the two chefs.

“Go on!” she shouted. Reluctantly, Finn and Mattie moved toward the exit doors, the table held before them like a shield. With all attention on Amanda, only one knife flew in their direction. It slammed into the wall by the doors, and hung there, shivering violently.

Amanda crouched and called out loudly, “I'm counting to three. You will put down your knives or pay the price.”

“Oh! Listen to her! I'm terrified!” one of the chefs said to the other.

“One…two…”

Finn knew the timing was meant for him and Mattie more than the chefs.

“Three!”

Amanda dropped the chair and shoved her open palms at the two chefs. The men were lifted off their feet and crashed into the wall. One was nicked by a
flying cleaver. Blood streamed down his neck.

“Criminy!” the other chef called out in an Australian accent.

“Go!” Finn said, shoving Mattie out the door.

He then surprised himself by picking up the table and throwing it as effortlessly as a Frisbee across the dining room.
Like pulling the carpet in the auditorium.
Again, the demonstration of strength shocked him.

The chefs saw the table coming fast, aiming to decapitate them, and slipped down flat on the floor. The table struck, punching a hole in the wall over the chefs' heads.

“Such sweet children!” the Aussie said. He and the other man scurried on hands and knees back into the kitchen. Amanda limped for the door, drained of energy by her use of her powers. Finn reached for her—she'd lost her hologram—and helped her through the doorway.

He texted an emergency code.

In seconds, Charlene and Willa converged, rounded them up like Secret Service agents handling diplomats, and rushed the three upstairs to Storey Ming who, pointing to starboard, led the way. They were in the District, the ship's warren of nightclubs and bars. Unlike the orderly layout of the rest of the ship, the District's few hallways were curved, and clubs phased into each other, further confusing the visitor. The kids ran past a grouping of single-occupant restrooms. Storey skidded to a stop and ushered all of them into one. She closed the door and locked it. It was a small, crowded space. Storey kept her ear to the door and a finger to her lips. She held up her palm, like a traffic cop.

Footsteps could be heard. Then the thunk of a nearby bathroom door closing and locking. Storey nodded, as if to say,
Okay
. Quietly unlocking and opening the door, she checked both ways and signaled for them to follow.