Kingdom Keepers VII (41 page)

“‘I did as he asked,’” Violet says for Minnie. “‘Of course I did. Just in time, as it turns out. The ghosts arrived and took it from me. Took it right out of the bank with everyone crouched in terror behind them.’”

“But not you,” Finn says.
Wraiths
, he’s thinking.

Minnie looks as if she might cry again. She shakes her head.

Violet says, “‘I knew I would like you.’” In a more caustic tone, she adds, “For the record, that’s all her, too.”

“Surprise, surprise,” says Willa.

Finn is transfixed by Minnie. For him, there’s no one else in the room. He taps his head. “The
power
is all up here. It’s in our heads.”

“‘I wish I knew,’” Minnie says through Violet. “‘He tapped his head like that.
It’s all up here,
he said.’”

“And he was humming,” Amanda reminds everyone.

“‘A pretty tune.’” Violet hums a lovely melody. When she stops, a brittle silence hangs in the room. No one wants to break it.

“Can we get you guys out of here now?” Violet asks. “And FYI, this is me again, not Minnie.”

“‘We?’” Willa repeats.

“You don’t think I’m going to attempt this alone, do you? Bagheera and the Tramp are hiding outside, waiting.”

“We have a friend named the Dillard out there as well.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Violet asks.

“A plan?” Finn asks.

“Ah, yes,” Violet smiles and tosses her shock of dark hair. “That would help.”

T
HE CLOCK TOWER
in Fantasyland wears several faces. Philby and the others inspect each one, a painstaking process that eats up precious time. Jess is once again lagging behind, but now Charlene stays with her, making Maybeck and Philby the group’s investigators.

The two boys move on to Innoventions. Inside the sign is hidden yet another clock, which Philby is certain will reward them. It does not. No visible clues, with or without 3-D glasses. At last, the girls catch up to the boys.

“We do Town Hall in Toontown last,” Philby says, “because I think we’re all terrified of Toontown. Agreed?” No one objects, not even Maybeck. “Excellent. But…that leaves Small World.”

“Oh joy,” says Maybeck. “Not like we’ve had any problems there before.”

Philby says, “The dolls come out every fifteen minutes like cuckoos. If Wayne’s telling Finn, ‘It’s about time,’ we can’t exclude it.”

“As long as we don’t have to go inside,” Charlene says. Philby nods, and turns to Jess.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Fine, thank you.”

An instant later, Philby jumps and shouts, “Rat!”

Maybeck bunches his fists in a fighting pose, but the two girls have little or no reaction.

“That’s not a rat,” Charlene says, “I mean, of course it’s a rat, but it’s Remy. And the one next to him is Django. As in:
Ratatouille
.”

Remy nods.

The girls move to meet the rat. The two boys aren’t nearly as eager. Charlene and Jess kneel, and then squeal and coo about how cute Remy is. Playing to the crowd, the rat shakes Charlene’s index finger with both paws.

“Can we save the Adventure Club for another visit?” Maybeck says.

Remy points, his long whiskers twitching toward Small World. He shakes his head violently, then waves in a different direction.

“He wants us to follow him!” squeals Charlene.

From the shadows a hundred rats of all sizes appear. Adorable rats, not scary ones, with big black eyes, long whiskers, lips twitching in rat-size smiles that show their two front teeth.

“An escort,” says Charlene, delighted.

“Why can’t we go that way?” Maybeck asks Remy.

Remy’s eyebrows arch mysteriously.

“Overtakers,” says Philby.

The rat nods.

“Satisfied?” Charlene asks.

At Remy’s signal, his cousins, friends, and teammates surround the Keepers like a wave of brown water. The rats herd the group at a quick pace, containing them within their undulating shadow and offering a protective force field.

The route moves away from Fantasyland and past the Mad Tea Party toward the Matterhorn, then swings left in the direction of Small World. Remy leads them in an arc through the trees, and they pop out on the far side of the Small World pavilion. Here the parade starts, but the park ends.

“We need to see the front,” Philby says in a whisper.

Remy’s button nose twitches.

“One or two of us could sneak along the topiary,” Charlene suggests. She gives Maybeck a look that indicates she’s volunteering. “We reach the front and do what we have to without attracting attention.”

“That would be me and you,” Maybeck says.

“Correct,” Philby says.

Jess is lost behind her own eyelids again. Charlene speaks gently to her. “Jess, you and Philby are going to wait for us with Remy and his friends in the trees.”

Eyes shut, Jess nods faintly. “An oval and a spiral. Chains.” Her eyes pop open. She starts to draw in the dirt. “Did I say something?”

“Yes,” Philby says. “I didn’t like the last part.”

“It’s near here. It only happened as we got closer.” Her sketch looks like a rifle sight: a large circle with a pin at its center.

“No offense, but we’re wasting time,” Maybeck says. He signals Charlene. “Ready?”

“I’ll wear the 3-D glasses,” she says, “even though they make me dizzy. You never know.”

“I’ll be your Seeing Eye dog.” Maybeck has a way of being inappropriate without trying; Charlene smiles wryly at him. Then they crouch, cross the path, and steal into the shadows of the topiary trees, all carved and trimmed into geometric shapes. One is shaped like an upside-down teardrop, another like a cube.

As they pass beneath another, Charlene hisses for Maybeck to stop. She points to a stone in the ground.

“The eye,” Charlene says. “From the photo! It’s on that rock.”

Maybeck inspects the stone closely. The simple ideogram of an eye carved on its surface—nearly identical to the hieroglyph—looks old and faded, but it’s still unmistakable.

“You think it’s under the rock?”

“One way to find out.” Maybeck tries to move the carved stone, but it won’t budge. He and Charlene start digging. After a second, Charlene stops.

“Come on!” Maybeck says encouragingly.

“We know better diggers,” Charlene says, and whistles. Remy’s nose pokes out from behind a tree. A minute later, two dozen rats are moving earth from all four sides of the stone like a machine. Dirt flies into symmetrical piles. In concert with their efforts, Maybeck shoves and wrestles the stone until it comes free.

Remy alone digs at the bottom of the exposed hole. His efforts are careful, so as not to tear a piece of paper should he encounter it.

“A little deeper,” Maybeck says.

Django tugs on Charlene’s pant leg.

“What is it, little friend?” she says.

Django clearly wants her to follow him, and she does. They dart across the path and look back at the topiary trees. Django turns. Charlene turns. He gestures with his head. Charlene has no idea what he’s trying to tell her.

Sighing, Django fixes all four of his feet on the ground, lifts his right front paw, bent at the elbow, and then stretches and lifts his nose; his long tail goes as straight as a sipping straw. He’s imitating a setter—a pointer dog.

Charlene looks, sees nothing but tiny amounts of dirt escaping the deep hole across the path. Then it occurs to her: lie down at the rat’s level, and look up. The greenery of the tree they face, the one beneath which the rats have been digging, is carefully shaped into topiary like a giant doughnut, its leaves and branches curved into a wide circle with a large hole at the center.

“Oh, how pretty,” she tells Django, annoyed that he has distracted her for this, but trying not to show it.

The rat shakes its tiny head back and forth.

“No?” Charlene studies the tree again. “It
is
pretty,” she says.

If the rat shakes his head any harder, he will snap his neck.

Like a camera focusing, Charlene looks
through
the hole, allowing the tree to act as a round picture frame. In the middle of the frame she sees a twisting metal sculpture on the top of a spire that reminds her of the image Jess described.

“Terry!” Charlene calls.

Maybeck hurries across, wary of showing himself. Charlene points. He sucks in a sharp breath.

“We won’t know until we check,” Maybeck says, but she can see him nodding.

“We’re supposed to
see
, to look from that spire,” Charlene says.

“You’re going to climb Small World,” he says, doubtfully.

“I am.”

* * *

The idea is for the Keepers and the Dillard to act as a decoy out back while Minnie uses the front stairs to access the street and Walt Disney’s secret door into the Disneyland Fire Department. Once there, she can wait and then move effortlessly to safety.

Finn checks with Willa and Amanda. “You realize the need for all clear?” The girls nod. “In the face of a tiger attack.” They look troubled, and their nodding slows. “Si will probably go for our eyes,” Finn says.

“Up our backs and over our heads,” says Willa, “like in the wild. The tiger will go for our Achilles tendons or our necks.”

“I can stop them,” Amanda says.

“I hope so!” says Finn. “Without you this would be a suicide mission.”

“But only once. I won’t have the strength after that.”

“The Jungle Cruise is behind us,” Finn says.

“Yeah, and the tigers happen to call that home,” says Willa. “We’ll need a better plan.”

“The Dillard can help. He should be able to access maps and lead us through the Jungle. Both the Treehouse and Pirates are almost directly behind us. Both were built or were being built when Walt was still around. Even before it opened, Pirates had become his favorite. Where better to hide something than where there’s already buried treasure?”

“Don’t worry about the tiger,” Violet says, patting Minnie’s shoulder and moving to join the group. “I can be really annoying.”

“You’ll want to stay close to us until Amanda does her thing,” Finn warns. “Whatever.”

Violet’s hair obscures so much of her face that it’s a wonder she can see. “If anything were to happen to you…” she says to Minnie, who places her hands on either side of her own round cheeks and shakes her head. Her expression says that Violet’s being silly. “If anything happens, Minnie, Bagheera is just outside on the sidewalk. I’m not a big animal freak, but I’m thinking a panther pretty much scares the tar out of a tiger.”

Minnie nods and pats Violet on the head.

“Be safe,” Amanda says to Minnie, who blows her a kiss.

Violet opens the apartment’s front door. The Keepers watch Minnie go, each reeling from the intoxicating effect of having been in the presence of real Disney royalty.

Pulling themselves together, they gather at the back door as tightly as they can. Finn plays the role of captain, bringing up the rear. Willa opens the door and they proceed in order: Willa, Violet, Amanda, Finn. They slither across the metal fire escape walkway and over the flat roof, moving toward the stairs.

“Duck!” Amanda shouts.

Finn dives and reaches for her ankles, holding on for dear life.

Amanda pushes, throwing a force field directly at the charging tiger. Shere Khan lifts off his paws and is airborne, as if pulled up into a tornado. The tiger flips head over tail, a tumbling circus cat, and slams into the roof, sliding down, semiconscious.

Si, a Siamese cat, comes from the side, launching herself at Amanda. Finn, having lost his all clear, floats in midair, held only by his grip on Amanda’s ankles. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the darting cat and warns Amanda at the last second.

She strikes the cat as if hitting a tennis backhand, diverting Si around and past her. The cat lands on all fours.

Willa is already down the ladder. Finn lets go, gripping the metal banister, and Amanda follows. Then Finn rolls, throws his feet over, and finds the rungs with his toes.

Shere Khan is treading with both front paws, his head held low, haunches flexed, preparing to spring. The big cat’s front claws tear loose shingles, rip free entire boards. His wild yellow-and-black eyes are the size of beach balls.

Finn stops. There’s not time to get lower on the stairs; he’s exposed from the waist up. He closes his eyes, exhales in a steady stream, and searches the resulting blackness for a pinprick of light. As he opens his eyes, Shere Khan sails through the air, snapping his white-toothed jaws shut on Finn’s neck. Finn is eye to eye with the beast; he can see his own face reflected in the curve of the cat’s corneas.

Failing to gain a purchase on the landing, Shere Khan begins to fall, no man-child caught between his jaws.

Finn punches the cat with an uppercut to the windpipe as, letting go, he swings one-handed off the ladder. Loosening his hold, he slides like a fireman down the handrail. His panic makes him whole again, and when Si drops like a hat onto his head and sinks his claws into Finn’s eyebrows, Finn cries out. Shaking his head instinctively, Finn bonks the cat against the stairway handrail, once again flinging Si off. Just as he is about to crash onto the bottom stairs, Finn’s own fall is cushioned by Amanda and Willa.

“Thanks for the warning light,” Finn says to the Dillard.

“But I did not give you the signal,” the Dillard replies.

“Never mind,” Finn says. They’ll work on sarcasm later. His mind flashes to the music box from Rahway, New Jersey; if only they’d had time to investigate further. But they didn’t. Finn refocuses, saying, “We need to get through the Jungle Cruise to reach Tarzan’s Treehouse. You’ll lead, so run fast.”

“I’ll take second, to protect him,” Violet says.

“Done.”

They take off at a run. The Dillard actually has to slow down to allow them to catch up.

“Funny thing,” Finn tells Amanda, the two running alongside one another. “Dillard—the Dillard I knew, I mean—was not exactly an athlete. Slow doesn’t begin to describe him.”

“I heard that!” the Dillard calls back. His image sparks and sputters, as do those of the others; the jungle interferes with DHI projections. Only Violet remains entirely herself.

“Just FYI,” she calls back, “you guys are freaky.”

“Wait till you meet the rest of them,” Amanda says. “Us!” she corrects, and gives Finn a smile. “I still can’t get used to that.”

“You’re doing fine,” he tells her. “Just fine. It’s us we need to worry about.”

* * *

Ever impetuous, Charlene puts her climbing skills to use before consulting Philby or Jess. Maybeck sees it all go down, but is unable to stop her because of a slight distraction. Or not so slight: skeletons—in chains.