Kingdom Keepers VII (43 page)

A
KISS CHANGES EVERYTHING.

As the knowledge that she climbed the Small World spire in the middle of an earthquake sinks in, Charlene drops to her knees and kisses solid ground in front of Philby, Jess, Maybeck, and the rats.

A plane flies overhead on final approach, lights blinking on its wingtips. The lights are reflected on the ground in front of Charlene, off a faint, thin, shiny smear in the shape of an elongated
S
. Charlene presses her cheek to the pavement, sighting along the
S
in both directions.

“Are you okay?” Maybeck asks, his outline glowing a vibrant blue. He is tall and strong, entirely all clear. She feels safe with him close by.

“I’m not sure,” she says.

“Charlie!” he drops to a knee. “Are you hurt?”

For all his rough-and-tumble persona, Maybeck has a thoughtful, caring side that Charlene loves. She attributes it to his Aunt Bess, one of the sweetest, most generous women Charlene has ever known.

“It’s not me. I’m fine!”

“We shouldn’t stay out in the open like this,” Philby says.

“Wait!” Charlene makes sure Maybeck is paying attention as she points out the residual slime line on the pavement. “Snake.”

Maybeck takes note. “But snakes aren’t slimy. That’s a myth. They look slimy, they can feel slimy, but they’re dry.”

“Not if they just came out of the wet grass,” Charlene says, walking him along the line she has sighted.

“Maybe there was spilled ice cream in the grass,” Philby says.

“Or suntan lotion or something,” Jess adds.

“But the track dries out,” Charlene says. “And it points that way.” She gestures into the far distance, toward Casey Jr.

“So there’s a snake in Disneyland,” Philby says. “Big deal. It’s California, Charlene.”

“Terry,” Charlene says, “put your head down on the path.”

“Oh, come on.”

“That’s right,
come on
. Just do it.”

Maybeck debates arguing with her. He kneels.

“All the way down.”

“Why?”

“I’m waiting, Terry.”

Maybeck flattens his cheek on the blacktop. “Satisfied?”

“Look directly up the snake line, like you’re sighting along a sort of curving arrow. Good. Now look up, ever so slowly.”

Maybeck’s eyes move—and he freezes. He raises and lowers his head repeatedly. Charlene smiles.

“Now are you interested?” she asks.

“So this has nothing to do with the snake.”

“We won’t know until we get there,” Charlene tells Maybeck.

“Where?” Philby asks, staring curiously at the ground.

Charlene is about to speak, but it’s Jess who answers. “There!” she says. She stands slightly away from the others, as she often does. Jess, the ephemeral spirit, reluctant to speak, to join in, a bit of the wounded-bird look to her powerful eyes. Her pale skin is more like kitchen cling wrap, her formerly grandmother-white hair now red as that of a classic Irish lass. Jess, the girl who remained Maleficent’s prisoner for an unhealthy amount of time, the young woman captured and kept from all contact in a solitary space within Disney’s Animal Kingdom. She doesn’t ask for pity but seems deserving of it.

And the others follow her now without question. Jess and Charlene lead Maybeck and Philby on a short walk to the far side of Fantasyland, where Jess points up along a closed-off path with her thin hologram arm and delicate wrist.

“There’s a building up there,” Maybeck says. “You could see its roofline from back by Small World. It looks like a ski chalet or something. Who knows what it is actually? Wish we had the Dillard with us.”

“Hey, I know!” Philby says defensively. “It’s the Skyway Station. There used to be a tram here, like a gondola in the park.”

“My dream. My sketch,” Jess says. “I drew a ski lift. A gondola.”

“Like that. Yes,” Philby says.

“So what now?” Jess inquires. She has a knack for actually saying what everyone else is thinking.

Philby takes a long look at Jess, unable to dismiss her past history with both Maleficent and the Overtakers. Charlene saw something, sure, but it is Jess who has led them directly to this place. It’s always been obvious why the OTs want Jess. Her ability to foresee the future is a powerful tool; her sketched dreams have repeatedly helped the Keepers steer clear of trouble or solve a puzzle. And she’s close to Amanda, whose telekinetic power has saved the Keepers multiple times.

Philby has not forgotten about the repeated warning of an “enemy within.” The Keepers don’t discuss it much, but it hangs over them nonetheless. Jess could just as easily be a candidate as any of the rest of them. Philby adopts an extra-cautious stance as they approach. Is it impossible that Jess might betray the Keepers? Philby wonders. Maybe it’s only as impossible as becoming a hologram in your sleep or dreaming parts of a future you’ve already been told will happen.

Philby studies Maybeck, who’s clearly all in with the discovery of the Skyway Station. He looks ready to climb the hill and flush out the Overtakers. Charlene also looks hungry for battle. Gone is the L.A. actress; Charlie’s back to being a misplaced cheerleader eager to justify time away from the gym. She wants—needs—to prove something about her ridiculously good looks, her physical abilities and her oft-overlooked brainpower. Rarely the young woman others believe she is, there are times like this when she rises to an occasion, when the brightness of her blue outline creates an aura of stark determination around her. She wants to get started.

“We wait,” Philby says.

“Excuse me?” Maybeck reacts irritably, his chest swelling, eyebrows arching. Remy and Django also offer upraised noses, inquisitive expressions. The rest of their kind follow, surrounding the Keepers with expectant faces, and Philby finds himself the center of attention.

“What if the OTs are up there?” Philby says. “What if they’re counting on us exploring? We’d be walking straight into a trap, like the zip line on the cruise.” Philby keeps one eye on Jess, watching for her reaction. If she’s against his plan, she doesn’t show it. Why this makes him all the more suspicious of her, he doesn’t understand.

* * *

The Dillard displays no fear because he has none. His holo-gram’s “personality” is not programmed for fear, anxiety, remorse, or affection—human qualities difficult, if not impossible, to translate into computer code.

Instead, he makes eye contact with the Sabor and drops playfully into a prone position. The Sabor cants its head in curiosity, its animosity challenged. Its eyes brighten, its bloodlust gone. The Dillard rolls to the railing, like a cub playing. He covers his head with his hands and the distracted Sabor gently paws him, claws retracted.

A paw swipes through the Dillard, and the Sabor drops to its belly, engaged. It tries again; and again, nothing. The claws extend, the cat’s expression now one of frustration. It goes after the Dillard repeatedly, one paw, the other, maddened by the lack of contact, increasingly aggressive and hostile.

The Dillard’s internal counter has recorded eleven seconds since engaging with the big cat. The Dillard eyes the railing, rising to his knees. The Sabor’s hackles rise as it lurches back on its haunches, obviously threatened. The Dillard’s hologram passes through the railing and jumps. The cat leaps but misjudges the height and takes a bad fall.

Thirteen…fourteen…fifteen…

The Imagineers did not program pride, but the Dillard is a fast learner.

* * *

Higher up in the Tarzan tree, spying a sapling close to the railing that might bend under his weight and serve as a kind of express elevator—going down—Finn rushes to an extended landing that functions as a balcony. As he is about to take the leap, he looks back for the cat and sees instead a wink of golden light above one of the branches overhead, just out of reach.

With one leg poised to climb out over the railing, Finn stops, his muscles willing but his brain refusing. He fights his own instincts, trying to ignore the golden wink, but he can’t. Finn returns to the tree and jumps for the branch. Too high. Looking around, he sees what looks like a treasure chest wedged against the main trunk nearby. He drags it over to serve as a step stool. On tiptoe, he thrills at what he discovers: a hieroglyphic eye made of fine golden wire embedded in the tree bark. A great workman must have installed it; judging by the streaks of sap that leak like snail trails below the inlay. The symbol has weathered decades. Its placement is surely no accident.

Finn looks for any sort of hiding place for the missing piece of Mickey. The connection between the Osiris myth’s missing thirteenth piece and the wood of the throne in the complete hieroglyph encourages him. He jumps and grabs a branch immediately above, pulling himself up just as the drumming of heavy cat paws rises like a chorus behind him.

Finn’s hologram can’t experience an adrenaline rush, but he feels the pulse of associated heat flooding his veins and again struggles to maintain all clear, cursing himself for not letting go of Wayne’s tragic death. Not a good time to have an up-close-and-personal encounter with a Sabor bent on defending its realm.

Riding the tree limb like a saddle, Finn brings his legs up in time to avoid the fangs of the roaring Sabor. The beast snaps at air, falls, rights itself, and leaps again.

Finn looks down at the trunk he used as a stool, hoping beyond hope that the Sabor lacks common sense. But no. The cat springs up onto the chest as fluidly as rushing water.

Clinging on for dear life, Finn scoots away from the snapping jaws and comes face-to-face with a golden arrow. He concentrates and feels his limbs tingle—a good sign!—as he tries to work out the location to which it points. The tree limb he’s standing on narrows quickly. He dares not venture much farther out. There’s no sign of a trapdoor or hiding place. So why the arrow?

The answer comes in a burst of joy. Only Walt Disney or Wayne could have thought up such a clue! The synthetic leaves on the tree limb erupt in a sea of green, some large, some small—and some
missing
. The branch ends as if had been broken years before. From below, it would look like a gnarly, storm-bitten stump, two dead twigs extending like skeletal fingers. From above, the wounded bark looks exactly like three knuckles, a thumb, and an index finger pointing into the distance. Finn sights down the length of the branch, ignoring the Sabor’s increasingly loud growls. He follows the line to the end of the extended index finger that points due north and he marks in his mind’s eye the same directional line on the ground below.

Thrilled by his discovery, Finn spins around on the branch. The Sabor’s wet nose is close enough for him to make out its leathery texture. The cat’s mouth opens wide, spit flying as it roars.

“Hold on tight!”

It’s Amanda’s voice. Finn knows what’s coming. Lacing his fingers around the tree limb, he wraps his legs tight as well and locks his ankles. The leaves invert, their silver undersides bent into the shape of a thousand funnels as the force of Amanda’s telekinetic push hits both Finn and the Sabor, throwing the cat off the limb. Two claws remain stuck in the fabricated bark, separated from their owner.

As the Sabor lands below, it returns to its sculpted form, perhaps as a result of being removed from its domain. Amanda and Willa follow the Dillard, who’s waiting below, up the stairs and reach Finn as he lowers himself to the main trunk and climbs down.

He sights the direction indicated by the broken tree limb one last time, and then turns as Amanda and Willa throw their arms around him. The three celebrate with a hug.

“Let’s get out of here!” Finn cries, leading the way down the stairs.

The Dillard is prattling on about something to do with “seventeen seconds,” but Finn barely hears, his mind overcome with his discovery. He takes deep breaths to restore his calm, and hopefully, his all clear.

“Jess needs us,” Amanda says.

“Not now,” Finn says, determined to pursue the golden arrow.

“Yes, now!” Amanda declares, with unusual firmness.

Her tone stops the three others.

“How could you possibly know that?” Finn asks.

“Why would you have to even ask me?” she counters.

Willa says, “Easy, you two! Seriously, Finn.”

He describes his discovery of the partial hieroglyph and the golden arrow in a heated voice.

“Whatever it is,” Willa says, “it’s been there a long time. It isn’t going anywhere.”

Finn looks back to the Tarzan Treehouse, then into the girls’ faces and the Dillard’s holographic eyes. “Okay,” he says. “I suppose you can tell us where to find her.”

“Do I know, exactly? No. But she’s somewhere in that direction.” Amanda points. Finn’s about to make a sarcastic comment when the ground shakes beneath their feet—a second tremor.

“We’d better hurry,” he says.

T
HE REUNION OF THE
K
EEPERS
takes place in a copse of trees with a view of Casey Jr. Remy, Django, and a dozen of their relatives find Finn and company, and, on orders from Philby, lead them back to Philby’s group, which now includes hundreds more of Remy’s kin.

As they meet up, all the Keepers begin to talk over one another while the Dillard looks on. The Dillard then demonstrates a particular aspect of his upgrade: the ability to record conversation and recite it like a script, so that when Finn asks Philby, “What’d you just say?” it isn’t Philby but the Dillard who answers.

Then, prompted by Finn, the Dillard recites the other conversations, word for word.

“Incredible,” Finn says.

“Unavoidable,” Philby says, tugging Finn away. “It’s amazing he can do that, yes. But think about it. He can record
everything we say
.” Finn stares at him, silent.

“Why would they program him like that? Why would the Imagineers add a ton of code to the Dillard’s program, enabling him to record multiple conversations?”

“Oh, come on! Talk about paranoid!”

“I heard you ask a question, and I heard the Dillard answer. Honestly, I’m not sure we’re supposed to know he has that ability.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Philby’s nodding. “He’s spying on us, Finn. He’s recording—probably with video, too—everything we’re doing. Transmitting in real time would be my guess. The Cryptos knew you’d keep him around. They played you. Played us!”

“You make it sound so…devious.”

“It is!”

“We don’t know that! And even if it’s true, what if it’s to protect us? Give them eyes and ears so they can bail us out or return us if we’re in trouble.”

Philby rolls his tongue in his mouth, chewing on the idea. Then he shakes his head, never breaking eye contact with Finn. “‘The enemy within.’”

Finn sucks air. “No.”

“Yes. All it takes is one bad Crypto with access to the Dillard and the OTs know everything we do—everything we even talk about doing. Wayne said we’d be sabotaged, didn’t he?”

“This is crazy.”

“Finn, sabotage is done to a
thing
: a machine, a building, a road. Not to people, not to a group. Why did Wayne use that particular word? And what makes it so impossible? The Dillard’s your best friend.”

“And I killed him.”

“I didn’t mean that! I mean he’s the last person we’d suspect. Remember what Wayne said: ‘Suspect everyone. Trust no one.’”

“Who can live that way? That’s insane!”

“It’s war, Finn.”

“Do you trust any of us?” Finn counters angrily. “That’s poison, Philby. You’re poisoning us!”

“Am I?” Philby steps back, returns to the group, and raises his hand for silence. “Look at him. Find out what’s going on.”

The Dillard is crouched down outside a cluster of trees, looking away from the Skyway Station. He’s posed like a scout, his head sweeping right to left, then back again. Finn looks around at the Keepers and Fairlies, all of whom are too busy talking to pay attention to what might be out there. It’s hard for him to imagine that the Dillard’s an Imagineer spy when the guy appears to be the only one who cares about their protection.

Finn approaches quietly from behind.

“There is someone coming, Finn.”

It’s disquieting that the Dillard names him without turning, without seeing who’s approaching. Finn can imagine a GPS tracking system built into the hologram’s database, allowing it to track and account for each of the Keepers’ projections at any given instant. Again, Philby’s accusations hang in his mind.

“Where?”

“Eleven minutes ago, security video recorded a breach fifteen yards east of the main gate. There have been no accompanying security alerts, leading me to determine that the breach has gone unnoticed by all but me. Allowing for an average human walking speed of 3.1 miles per hour, the individual could arrive at any moment.”

“Can you see the security video?”

“I can.”

“Description?”

“The individual is alone. Five feet seven inches tall. Approximately one hundred thirty pounds.”

“So, a girl?” Finn says.

“Gender undetermined,” the Dillard says.

“Current location?” Finn is learning to direct the Dillard by interrupting with questions.

“Approximately one hundred seventy-five feet southeast, hunkered down in shadow.”

“‘Approximately?’ ‘Hunkered?’ Really?”

“Should I repeat?” the Dillard asks, missing Finn’s sarcasm.

“No.” Finn wishes he could pet the boy on his head like a puppy. Their relationship is developing the feel of a master and his dog. Finn hurries back and motions the others to gather round him. “A visitor!” he says in a hush.
“Stay here.
Silence!”

Finn turns and sneaks back up alongside the Dillard. “Dillard, how could this girl know where we are?” he whispers.

“Gender undetermined.”

“Get over it! Answer the question?”

“The question is too broad. Can you limit the question?”

“What are the top three ways the individual could determine the location of our holograms?”

“Highest percentage: all projected holograms are currently geo-tagged and tracked.”

Bingo
, Finn thought. “The Imagineers can track us in real time?”

“Disney programmers possess our precise locations at all times.”

“Do they track us?”

“Data not available.”

“Next possibility?”

“Second-highest percentage: visual identification. On the Disney side, this includes the naked eye and security video.”

“We could have been spotted.”

“Correct.”

“Explain what you mean by ‘Disney side.’”

“Your adversaries may have spotted you.”

Finn swallows away the suggestion. “Next.”

“The individual’s agents, irrespective of your adversaries, could have spotted you.”

Irrespective? Finn thinks, but says nothing. The Cryptos need to work on the Dillard’s vocabulary.

“Individual sighted,” the Dillard says, duck-walking back into shadow.

Finn whispers, “You can see someone? Really?”

The Dillard points and Finn makes out a ripple in a shadow alongside a food kiosk. It looks like nothing more than a swirl of oil and water.

“Whoa,” Finn murmurs, “you’re good.” He’s still wondering how this person found out about him and the others. Most likely—though the Dillard didn’t mention it—is that Charlene was spotted climbing the Small World spire. Her blue DHI outline would have been visible from a great distance. What’s still a question is the person’s intentions. Is he or she here to spy on them, warn them, or attack them?

“Gender: female. Race: Asian,” the Dillard announces, unprovoked.

“I know who it is,” Finn says. Spinning back toward the other Keepers gathered behind him in the trees, he hisses, “Storey’s coming!” He signals Maybeck to sneak up behind her and keep his eyes open for anyone else in the area. Then he and the Dillard watch Maybeck surprise the girl, creeping up on her in shadow.

Ten minutes have passed by the time Storey is reunited with them. They talk quietly, standing in a tight circle under the trees, as Storey explains her mission.

“The characters—the good characters—are talking about the Children of Light being in Disneyland tonight. You’ve been seen multiple times, and the Overtakers know you’re here, too.”

“No kidding,” Willa says. “We’ve met quite a few tonight.”

“Remy’s pack has spread the word that you may need help.”

Remy crosses his little arms proudly at Finn’s ankle and salutes. The hundreds of rats follow suit, rising and balancing on their hind legs.

“Now that’s adorable,” Storey says.

“And?” Philby asks. “Do we have any support?”

“Prince Phillip is organizing King Arthur’s knights from the carousel. You need horses.”

“Why?” Philby says.

“Aren’t you planning an attack? Don’t you know what’s up there?” Storey asks, pointing toward the hill.

The Keepers shake their heads.

“There are those among us—good sorcerers, Fairy God-mothers, fairies—who feel the dark magic. Like old people who know a storm’s coming.”

The Keepers and Amanda look squarely at Jess.

“Yes,” Finn says, speaking for all of them. “We know.”

“Starting not long ago, about the time you all showed up, that dark power has grown stronger.”

“Chernabog,” Willa says. “Tia Dalma. Cruella. The Evil Queen.”

“It causes headaches, makes characters feel unwell or puts them in bad moods. The moment I heard you were over here, I made the connection.
All
the characters who’ve fallen ill are from Fantasyland, It’s a Small World, and the castle. You look at a map, they go out like spokes on a wheel from this hill, the—”

“Skyway Station,” Philby says, interrupting.

“Abandoned for twenty years,” says the Dillard, surprising everyone. They’d forgotten he was listening. “The Skyway once transported Disneyland guests from Fantasyland to Tomorrowland and back.”

“Is that your friend Dillard?” Storey Ming asks, astonished to see him apparently alive.

“Don’t ask,” Finn answers. “Long story.”

“It was closed in 1994,” the Dillard continues, “when stress fractures were discovered in the tram towers inside the Matterhorn, through which the tram passed at that time.”

“Hey,” Storey says to the Dillard, who looks back, curiously.

“She’s saying hello,” Finn tells the hologram.

“Hello,” the Dillard says, closing his eyes. Probably recording the expression in his voice recognition file, Finn thinks. When the Dillard’s eyelids fail to reopen, Finn crouches down beside him while the others continue talking.

“The Overtakers are using the Skyway Station as a hideaway?” Amanda says.

“There
was
a building like this in my dream,” Jess reminds them.

“Are you okay?” Finn whispers to the Dillard.

“So you’re telling us there are OTs up there,” Maybeck says to Storey. “Maybe the darkest of the dark. We’ve got a girl who can push telekinetically. Another girl who’s a gymnast. Me, of course. And a couple of brainiacs. Then there’s the OTs. They can cast spells, conjure, and transfigure themselves, and they’re maybe hiding a jumpstarted monster that can crush us like bugs. Supposedly there’s some Prince Charming—”

“Prince Phillip,” Charlene corrects him.

“Respond,” Finn commands the Dillard quietly. Nothing.

“Whatever,” Maybeck continues. “He’s coming over here with some pint-size knights in shining armor on knee-high plastic horses. The OTs have the high ground—another advantage—and may know we’re coming.” He pauses. “Did I miss something?”

Remy and all the rats nod.

“Excu-u-u-use me,” Maybeck says. “Let’s not forget our secret weapon: gourmet rodents.”

He laughs at his own joke, failing to win laughs from the others. Judging by Remy’s twisted snout, Maybeck has hurt his feelings.

The Dillard’s eyes open and the hologram speaks confidentially to Finn. “I have identified only one Storey Ming in the White Pages. This is not she.”

“It’s okay, Dillard. She’s probably under a pseudonym, kind of like the Fairlies. Reschedule query.”

The Dillard blinks. His head shifts direction to take in the others.

Philby says, “That sounds about right, Maybeck. Better odds than we’ve faced in the past.”

“We’ve never stirred the hornet’s nest before, Philby. We’ve never faced all these guys at the same time, in the same place. Put on your professor’s cap! What are we supposed to do, arrest them?
What’s the plan
,
Stan?
”

Storey Ming produces a book of matches. “Did I mention that the Skyway Station was very old, and made entirely of wood?”

“No!” Willa’s almost shouting. “We are not setting that station on fire!”

“It’s isolated on that hill,” Storey says, expertly flipping the books of matches between her fingers. She moves with extraordinary ease, as if she has eight fingers and a thumb, not four. “There’s no wind, and Disneyland has its own fire department.”

“The Disneyland Resort Fire Department’s ladder company is located behind the Mad Hatter Store. It has an average park response time of under seven minutes,” the Dillard says.

“We can’t possibly be considering this,” Charlene says. “It’s arson. Arson’s a crime.”

“It’s the Overtakers,” Storey says. “Seven minutes? They’ll barely get a suntan.”

“No one asked you!” Willa shouts.

“Let’s keep our voices down,” Finn says. He eyes Philby, watching the gears grinding in his friend’s head.

“We’re all clear,” Philby mutters.

“We should tell the Cryptos,” Willa says firmly. “It’s their park, their battle.”

“Then why did Wayne bring us here?” Maybeck says. He’s clearly leaning toward Storey Ming’s way of thinking. “Not to guide the guests, that’s for sure. He brought us here to solve—”

“Never mind!” Finn doesn’t want Storey hearing about the Osiris myth or the Manto Manuscripts. It’s a knee-jerk, instinctive reaction to stop Maybeck. His own action confuses Finn. Wayne worked with Finn for years, encouraging him to trust himself as a leader. Why this particular switch has been thrown Finn doesn’t know, but following Wayne’s mentoring, Finn trusts it. “We get the point.”