Kingdom Keepers VII (32 page)

G
RASSHOPPERS—BIG GRASSHOPPERS
, the size of dogs. Park guests fleeing in all directions amid shrieks of terror while other visitors a comfortable distance away applaud and start shooting video. The contrast between what they see as life threatening and what they see as entertainment creates two distinct groups in the world of California Adventure: those running for their lives and those grabbing for their cameras.

At the front of the runners’ line are two people outlined in pulsing blue light: Finn and Amanda. Behind them, the grasshoppers seem to be multiplying. The insects don’t exactly run; they leap several yards at a time, bounding forward, wings fluttering and carrying them aloft, then skid down to the pavement, where they recover and leap again.

Ahead, the night sky is alive with color, with glowing rockets shooting up and slicing the darkness. It’s a sea of heads and bodies, camera flashes, and music that has gone virtually unheard.

“World of Color,” Finn says before Amanda can ask.

The attraction is the single biggest spectacle in both parks; it comprises twelve hundred pressurized fountains, lights, music, and dozens of lasers, all computerized. More than ten thousand guests crowd together to watch, forming a human doughnut around the pond where the show takes place.

Amanda looks back. “They’re closing fast! That’s Hopper in the lead. From
A Bug’s Life
. He’ll kill us!”

The lead grasshopper’s mandibles are the size of garden shears. They look like they can cut through anything, including a neck or an arm.

“All clear,” Finn reminds her, although his outline is sparking as much as Amanda’s. They are forced to push their way through the crowd. “We’re boxed in,” Finn says. “Cornered.”

Guests scream as Hopper and the other insects crash into the crowd. Finn and Amanda have a brief advantage; they’re tightly surrounded, and Hopper can’t see them.

“This way!” Amanda guides Finn toward Paradise Pier, then stops, reconsidering, and hurries toward a nearby food cart instead. “The umbrella!” she shouts. “Help me!”

The umbrella is made of sheet metal, one of four used to shield park guests from the blazing California sun. Amanda heaves its stem back and forth, wiggling it loose. Beside her Finn pitches in, but he’s suddenly encumbered by his grief, despondent and barely moving. Losing Wayne comes back to haunt him.

“Why?” he asks.

“I’m going to get us…” With a heroic heave, Amanda tears the umbrella loose. “Out of here! Bring it!”

Finn does as he’s told, moving mechanically. Amanda clears a path through the crowds. But Hopper and the grasshoppers are nearly upon them.

“We need to—”

“Hurry!” Amanda says.

Finn cradles the umbrella awkwardly, Amanda in the lead.

“Excuse us, part of the show!” Using a warm voice and a winning smile, she urges any intractable guests out of their way. Her blue outline continues to sputter. Finn’s is sporadic as well—they are vulnerable to attack. If Hopper and company catch up with them…

“Where are we—?”

“The fountain!” Amanda calls back. “Grasshoppers can’t swim. They hop on the water.”

Ahead, plumes of water explode in hundred-foot-high bursts. The scene depicts Buzz Lightyear and Emperor Zurg from
Toy Story 2
. Amanda flashes Finn a smile over her shoulder, encouraging him on. Finn follows unquestioningly, obediently.

“First Dillard, now Wayne,” he whispers.

“Not now, Finn!” she chastises. “Look out!”

A wet
snap!
from behind them sends Finn tumbling forward. Hopper is on his heels, mandibles snapping, trying to cut Finn in half.

“Faster!” Amanda calls.

Finn breaks out of his grief in time to swing the heavy umbrella at Hopper’s mug, knocking the insect over and exposing the grasshopper’s ribbed yellow belly. “Gross!”

Using one wing, Hopper rocks back up.

Amanda has carved out a path to the water. Before any curious Cast Members can reach her, she jumps the low guardrail and wades into the pool, Finn right behind.

Above them, Buzz and Zurg battle on a screen of misting water. Jets spout and music wails—until the chords are overpowered by screams.

A hundred or more giant grasshoppers have reached the pool’s raised wall. Guests scatter, crawling and running toward the exits.

Confused and angry, Security officers shout after Finn and Amanda. “Stop! Stay where you are! It’s not sa—”

One of the guards reaches for the radio at his waist, calling in to the control booth.

A life raft is hurled into the water by a Cast Member.

“They’re going to shut down the show!” Finn calls to Amanda through the thick mist.

“Hurry!”

Finn and Amanda can see the hundreds of valves beneath the surface of the pool. Amanda turns sideways, trying to work her way through the maze as water explodes in fire hose–like bursts all around them. A shooting stream knocks the umbrella from Finn’s hands. He bends to retrieve it and takes a blast to the stomach. Some of the water passes through his partial DHI; the rest knocks him over. He recovers the umbrella, holding it awkwardly so as to present the least amount of surface area, and carefully follows Amanda’s lead.

“Look!” Amanda points up. Three wraiths survey them from above.

But then, caught by a power fountain blast, two are gone.

“We’re cooked!” Finn said.

“No! Over here!” Amanda pulls Finn with her, grabs the umbrella, and carefully positions it top down, stem up.

The chaos in the viewing area scatters the Security team, buying Finn and Amanda more time. Amanda steps into the concave lens of the metal umbrella, holding on to the stem.

“Hurry!” she says.

“I’ll never give in!” Buzz Lightyear declares over the loudspeakers.

“Finn!”
Amanda catches him by the wrist and pulls. Together, they hug the umbrella’s stem.

“To infinity and—”

Below them, the strongest blast of fountain water in the show goes off. The umbrella, and the partial DHIs along with it, is lifted ten stories—a hundred feet—in less than a second.

Fast as an eel, the remaining wraith stabs toward them through the mist.

Finn holds on, white-knuckled.

They peak out at one hundred and ten feet. The plume of water supporting the umbrella falters, and then stops. The wraith is six inches from Finn’s face.

Through squinted eyes, Finn sees Amanda’s hands let go of the umbrella.

Suddenly they are flying through the air at four hundred miles per hour, Amanda’s legs still wrapped around the umbrella’s stem. She has made an Amanda push, flying their umbrella-craft out of World of Color and over to Mickey’s Fun Wheel. The same push throws the wraith against the roof of Ariel’s Undersea Adventure, where it evaporates.

Amanda pulls Finn with her as she bails out of the umbrella, and they land together on the superstructure of Mickey’s Fun Wheel. She easily climbs into an empty car. The ride is stopped because of the show.

They are safe.

“You okay?” she asks, like they’d waited in line for their seats.

“No. Not now. Not ever.” Finn looks down at the fountain display, the thousands of guests, the symphony of color. In the chaos, the concern for two glowing kids is lost, and the show continues.

“We’re going to make it,” Amanda says.

“Not him.”

“Finn, listen to me. I’ve dealt with that kind of loss—and worse. Family. You think you’ll never get through it, but you will.”

“Not me. Not ever.”

“With the help of friends, you can. It took me a long time to figure that out.”

“Jess,” Finn whispers.

“Yes. Others, too. You can’t do this stuff alone. We think we can, but we can’t. Look, I’m just saying that I’m here. Okay? I’m here.”

She wraps an arm around him and pulls him close. It’s like holding a wounded puppy. Her eyes well with tears.

“It’s not fair,” she says. “It’ll never be fair.” She watches the show, still holding Finn’s head to her shoulder. “We wait it out here. No one saw us through all that water. We’re safe.” Does she sound like she’s trying to convince herself? “We’ll make our way back to the Plaza later, when everything’s shut down. Call Philby. He can return us.”

Finn says nothing. The Finn Whitman Amanda knew is gone—she can feel it through her hand, holding his shoulder. She can hear it in his voice. Gone, like a leaf lifted and carried off by the wind. She knows better than to try to call him back to her. There is no fob, no Return for where he’s gone.

Only time will tell who appears in his place.

F
INN ATTENDS
the morning meeting in the Crypt’s conference room with Joe, Brad, and the other Keepers. He sees them looking at him. Their mouths move—especially Joe’s—but all Finn hears are low rumbles and echoes, like someone speaking from the far end of a vast cave. He feels tears run down his cheeks and scrubs them away. He’s calm for a few minutes. Then the tears start again.

He wishes Amanda and Jess had not returned to Mrs. Nash’s, from where they’d been crossed over. They are as much a part of everything now as any of the Keepers.

Finn’s hand starts moving indiscriminately, pen on pad. He can’t recall whether or not Joe told him to do this, or if he’s making notes about the talk with Wayne of his own volition.

Mickey and Minnie homes “for their own sakes”


Sorcerer’s Cap, conductor’s baton


You don’t kidnap Mickey, you destroy him


Nearly all the magic along with him


Walt’s pen


It’s about time


“Time,” Finn says, breaking his silence.

Joe stops in the middle of a sentence and the room goes silent as everyone looks at Finn.

“Wayne said, ‘It’s about time.’ He wanted to make sure I got that. It was important. He kept shaking his watch at me to make sure I’d heard. He said the OTs destroyed Mickey. Not kidnapped, but destroyed. That’s the word he used.”

Brad and Joe exchange a look.

“What?” Philby asks. “What was that about?”

“What?” Joe says back to him. “We can’t show our surprise? Are we supposed to know everything? We’re on your side. We trust you guys. More importantly, we
need
you.”

Despite his words, there’s a palpable feeling of unease in the room, and all the Keepers feel it. Joe is trying to cover something up; Brad’s face reveals that too. These two have a secret they are unwilling to share.

More secrets.
At the thought—and at the talk of Wayne—Finn sinks back toward despair; he tries desperately to kick for the surface, toward the light, but the cold and dark engulf him. Water leaks from his eyes. He’s drowning.

He barely hears Philby, who’s talking about the Keepers missing something, saying that Wayne is always five chess moves ahead of his nearest competitor or teammate, that the OTs’ raid on the Studio Archives precipitated everything—especially the theft of the binder. Philby reminds everyone that the wraiths were present again, just as they were during the raid on the Studio Archives, that there are no coincidences, that Wayne knew exactly what he was doing when he—

But he can’t say it. Maybe it’s because his heart won’t let him. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid that he’ll push his friend so deep that even the glow of the surface will disappear. Maybe, like Finn, he doesn’t believe it himself.

Wayne is full of tricks
. Finn has been chanting this in his mind like a mantra, trying to convince himself that the man’s death was an illusion, a trick played at the highest level. But his heart tells him differently.

“The danger here,” Joe says, “is that by showing themselves as they have, the Overtakers are signaling that they aren’t afraid. They’re back in Disneyland, where they started. That gives them a lot more power than they had in Florida. The kind of brazen behavior we saw in Toontown does not bode well. They are following a plan, and there’s an endgame to that plan that none of us wants. With Wayne…with what happened to Wayne, they will believe they’ve…that they’ve gained the upper hand. Tipped the scales. We can expect more now, not less.”

“I miss home,” Willa says, drawing looks from everyone, some inquisitive, some disapproving, some sympathetic. “No one told us we’d be here this long. Why don’t you let us out? Why are we treated like prisoners?”

Underground, there’s a deep rumble the Keepers feel more than they hear: traffic. It never goes away here, never stops as it does late at night in Orlando. It’s the only sound, along with a whispering drone from the air-conditioning system. A ribbon tied to the vent wiggles like a kite tail in the artificial indoor breeze.

Joe doesn’t know what to say. He looks to Brad, who’s equally speechless.

“An enemy within,” Charlene says to Joe. “Until we solve that, you can’t or don’t fully trust us. Am I right?”

Joe purses his lips.

“What
aren’t
you telling us?” Philby says. “Let’s face it, there’s something you’re keeping from us, and at this point…I mean, we all want to go home. It feels like we’ve been here forever. Nothing good is happening. It’s not like we’re helping.”

“Of course you are,” Joe says. “You all contribute!”

“Right,” Maybeck says. “Tell me how. We’ve been under attack since we got here.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this right now,” Joe says, as tactfully as possible, “but Wayne knew from the start that you all were the key to preserving the magic. The raid on the Studios…what happened in Toontown…Wayne reached out to Finn, knowing that he took a risk in doing so. He would never have done that if it weren’t important. Hugely important. Everything he said in that meeting is critical.” Joe is looking at Finn. “You need to reconstruct that conversation as accurately as possible.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Finn says sharply. He spins the note around and slides it in Joe’s direction.

Joe accepts it and reads. He says, “Thing is, no one knew about that meeting but you all. So how—”

“Not according to Storey,” Philby says, interrupting.

“Who?”

“That’s not important,” Philby says. “She told me that Security knew about Finn and Wayne. That means they had to be listening in somehow. Maybe they recorded the meeting? You guys have authority here, right? Get that tape. Give Finn a break. Who can remember every word of anything?”

Finn thanks Philby with his eyes. Philby nods.

Joe points to Brad, who types a note.

“We can’t make you stay,” Joe says. “Your participation is voluntary. Always. We appreciate everything you’re doing, but—”

“Come on!” Finn says, lifting his head, no longer trying to hide his sorrow. “You think we’re going to let her get away with what she did? What comes next is this: you start to trust us. We need the Return. We need Philby to be able to cross us over whenever necessary, even if we sometimes can’t explain why. And we need our software upgraded.”

Maybeck says, “We’re very needy.”

Everyone laughs, even Finn, who hasn’t felt anything but sorrow since the battle in Toontown.

“I can see that,” Joe says, clearly contemplating how much to share. “As to your requests, we take them seriously and we’ll study each one carefully, I promise. And we’ll check with Security about the taping of the conversation in Club 33.”

“If you bore us, you will lose us,” Philby warns.

“Too much talk, and we walk,” Maybeck adds. He and Philby fist-bump.

“That goes both ways,” Brad says. “If you keep secrets from us, how are we supposed to properly evaluate your needs and figure out how we can help?”

Philby, Willa, and Maybeck make eye contact. Willa nods faintly. Maybeck casts his vote with a slight shake of the head.

“What’s going on?” Joe doesn’t miss much.

“Last night, as the three of us took off for the Plaza, Jess was with us. We got separated; she was maybe a minute behind.”

“Less,” Maybeck says.

Philby continues. “She shows up with the notebook…the binder that got stolen from here the night of the wraith attack.”

“What?” Finn says, sitting upright now.

“Storey grabbed her. Just appeared and grabbed Jess and gave her the notebook, told her she had to get it out of the park. Said the OTs would kill for it.”

“Of course they would,” Joe says. “You’re telling me this Storey person stole it?”

Philby shrugs. “How should I know? They were together for like five seconds. Boom: she hands Jess the notebook and takes off.”

“Where is it now?” Brad asks.

“We hid it and the pen.”

“What?” Joe is apoplectic.

Brad explains to Joe, “Though items that are on your person when you cross over, like watches and phones, typically make the jump, items you acquire while in DHI form don’t return with you.” He turns to Philby. “Where is it?”

Finn says, “The wraiths are connected to the binder. They’ll have found it by now.”

“Not a chance. We screened it from the skies,” Philby says. “We stashed it behind the condiment station at the food stand by the horseless carriage stop.”

“Brilliant,” says Joe. “I’ll send a crew.” He pulls out his cell phone.

“You do that, and the wraiths will have it the moment it comes out from under that roof,” Philby says.

“Your friend Storey was able to carry it around the park,” Brad counters.

“We don’t know when the OTs discovered it missing,” Willa says. “Maybe she was so eager to get rid of it because she knew the wraiths had been sent to get her.”

“Lovely,” Joe mutters. “Okay, so we’ll tell them to box it—something metal—and drive it up here.”

“We want to see it too,” Finn says. “With you. When it gets here.”

Joe appraises him thoughtfully.

“Whatever’s in there got Wayne killed,” Finn says.

“We don’t know that,” Brad interjects.

Joe holds up a hand, stopping his colleague. “That’s fair.” He looks at the Keepers, nodding slightly. “Partners, from now on.”

Finn answers breathlessly, “Partners.”