Kingdom Keepers VII Read online

  Her eyes meet Wayne’s, who nods slowly and deliberately.

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  Wayne nods again. “You must!”

  “I…can’t!” Jess complains.

  The Evil Queen casts a sideways glance at Judge Doom.

  Jess knows what’s coming.

  “Bring me that pen, Old Man!” the Evil Queen demands. As Jess steps forward, the Queen begins to rant. “Not you! Him, and him alone!”

  Finn, Philby, and Maybeck exchange telling glances. Beside Maybeck, Charlene nods. Without speaking a word, they all know: inaction is not an option. They will not stand idly by while Wayne puts himself in danger.

  Amanda’s hands, now out of her pockets, shake as strongly, as surely, as if she’s fighting back hurricane-force winds.

  Wayne steps over to Jess and extends his hand, requesting the pen.

  Jess reluctantly hands it over.

  “You can stop this,” he whispers.

  “Silence! What did he say?” The Queen sounds childish. “What did he say?” Finn makes eye contact with Amanda; with a glance, he indicates Willa—a silent command.

  Wayne walks confidently toward the Evil Queen. As he passes Finn, he whispers, “It’s about time.”

  He waves his left wrist and hand, casting his ice-blue eyes onto Finn in a way that freezes the boy in his tracks. Finn’s emotions get the better of him. That look of Wayne’s is a message; Finn’s brain attempts to process and decode it, but he does not recognize the signal and helplessly delegates the job of translation to his heart. Finn has had dreams in which he is desperate to run but can barely move, his limbs heavy as buckets of water, his engine sluggish. Now it feels as if he is there again in such a dream, the wide-awake dream of his DHI existence, with the world swirling around him in slow motion. He shouts, but his words come out as gobbledygook.

  Wayne reaches the Queen and proffers the pen. As she reaches for the pen with her thin, impeccable fingers, she looks again to Judge Doom, blinking once. Jess watches the muscles in the man’s hand flex where he grips the knife. With one flutter of her eyelids, the Queen has sentenced Willa to die.

  The Toon Patrol starts a slow-motion turn toward Maybeck and Charlene. It’s to be a slaughter—all the Keepers will fall on this night.

  Wayne snatches back the pen, spins, and tosses it to Jess, who rips the sheet of paper in two, exactly as she saw the drawn image tear moments before. Before her, Judge Doom and Willa separate. The knife sails from Doom’s hand. Jess sprints toward Wayne to stop what she knows is coming, but it’s like trying to run in the ocean.

  As the knife falls, both Finn and Philby dive for it. But Judge Doom recovers it first and without hesitation plunges the blade into Wayne’s chest.

  With a scream, Amanda pushes telekinetically so hard that the Mickey statue atop the fountain bends. The Overtakers and Wayne lift off like errant leaves caught by an autumnal breeze.

  Wayne lands near the gas station, flat on his back, the knife still stuck fast in his chest. Finn screams as he hurries forward, with Philby right behind.

  The Queen, Cruella de Vil, Judge Doom, what’s left of the Toon Patrol, and the savage herd of wild animals are pushed together by Amanda’s power and driven down an alley that dead-ends in a closed gate—down but not done.

  Philby takes Finn by the arm, but Finn tries to shake him loose.

  Wayne’s eyes are open and unmoving.

  Finn sobs, “He’s––”

  “The most amazing man that ever was,” says Philby. “He did it for Willa. He did it for us!”

  Finn turns and shoves Philby to the pavement.

  Finn remembers that first night in the Magic Kingdom, an old man sitting next to a statue of Goofy, his ice-blue eyes and scratchy voice, so calm and knowing. He recalls how it felt to be trusted with secrets of a kingdom that outnumbered him in years by nearly five to one, how this old man knew the beginning and feared the end. It feels as if they have lived whole lives in these few years, as if Wayne has been grandfather, father, and partner to Finn, all in one. Finn cannot imagine a world without him—will not imagine a world without him.

  “Honor—that!” Philby chokes out, the wind knocked out of him.

  Amanda is at Finn’s side. “I’m sorry, Finn…I’m so sorry!”

  Finn looks back and forth between her and Wayne. It’s not her fault. Somehow, Wayne foresaw what was coming.

  As the first boom! sounds and the fireworks begin, Finn screams into the night sky. Images of his mentor’s face flash before his eyes; he is overwhelmed by memories of Wayne’s kindness and concern, his humor, their shared history. This can’t be true. First Dillard—now Wayne? The sounds coming from Finn are inhuman.

  Jess joins Maybeck and Charlene. Willa seems steeled by her ordeal—a new strength resides within her.

  Beneath the colorful flashes and blinding light, amid the deafening drumming of explosions overhead, Amanda reaches out to Finn and takes his hand. She holds on to him, as hard and fast as their DHI form allows, pulling him into a walk, then a flat-out run.

  The Keepers race from Toontown, real tears running down their projected faces, real hearts torn from digital bodies, overwhelmed by real pain that dogs their heels as they hurry toward the Plaza, Philby in the lead, brandishing the Return as if it alone might represent salvation.

  FINN COWERS WITH EACH EXPLOSION in the sky, slowing him and Amanda. The blue outline surrounding him sputters and sparkles. Amanda, who can’t stop crying, pulls him along like he’s an unwilling ox.

  “We have to go!” she says.

  Finn looks as if he doesn’t recognize her, doesn’t know where he is.

  “We’ve lost them.” Amanda stops, keeping Finn close to her. “Which way?”

  Looking back toward It’s a Small World, she sees the Evil Queen and Tia Dalma walking calmly in their direction.

  “Oh, great,” she says. Finn’s unresponsive and numb, a sea anchor she must drag along. She doesn’t know the park well at all. The proximity of the fireworks overhead only serves to confuse and frighten her. She steers him toward the Mad Tea Party, then, screened from the Overtakers by a pagoda, changes her mind and leads him past the entrance to the Matterhorn and in the direction of Finding Nemo. In doing so, she unknowingly takes the long way around, costing them more time.

  “Come on, I need you, Finn!”

  As they approach the Plaza, the crowd becomes obnoxiously thick, with everyone stopped and looking up at the brilliant display of color and sound. The park guests give no quarter, their feet firmly planted; they have no interest or intention of moving out of the way for anyone. They act as a human wall.

  Light flickers behind Finn’s dazed eyes. He appears trapped in a state halfway between a material body and a DHI.

  “Please!” she adds.

  “I loved him.” Tears spring from his eyes and splash onto the pavement, tears that have nothing to do with projected light. This causes Amanda to cry all the harder.

  “I know…I know.…” She wraps her arms around Finn and pulls him in and feels his convulsive sobs as her own. It feels right to hold him. Each overhead blast matches a corresponding shock radiating through Finn. She spins him, takes him from behind at the waist and guides him through the crowds. It’s slow going, like trying to push to the front of a parade. People complain and shoot impatient looks.

  Finally, Finn stops. There’s no going forward without making more of a scene. Amanda rises on tiptoes. The crowds are illuminated in flashes beneath the pulsating colors overhead. Hands are raised as cheers sound roundabout.

  “We’ve lost them,” she says. “Philby and the others,” she clarifies.

  From within the castle, flowing out of the central tunnel like billowing smoke, come the wraiths that attacked the Studio Archives. The crowd cheers their arrival, waving and laughing, ignorantly welcoming the corresponding terror.

  Seeing the wraiths, Amanda turns Finn around once more and takes him by the shoulders. He hasn’t s
een them. “Listen to me, Finn Whitman. You need to do what you are so good at.” She glances up to see the wraiths beginning to circle the Plaza; they are looking down, clearly searching the crowd. “You need to let this go and all clear. We both need to all clear, right now, right away. Are you listening to me?”

  She shakes him. Still nothing. It’s like a part of Finn has died with Wayne.

  Several of the wraiths form a tighter circle over the path to the Royal Theater, spinning like a wheel. Amanda jumps up and down, trying to see, but it’s impossible, what with the flashes of light and the arms raised in cheers all around them.

  “The others are in trouble!” she shouts, reaching her own conclusions. “Philby will have no choice but to return them.” Boom! boom! overhead. The wraiths continue in their wide circling, dipping and rising. “We’re going to miss the return. We need to all clear. Right now, Finn. You have to erase it. Forget it. Leave it behind. If it disappears, so can you.”

  Finn stares back at her, his eyes blank and dull. Then he nods, and the last of his tears cascade down his cheeks. He starts to look up, but she grabs him by the hair—he must not show his face to the sky!

  “We’re going to keep our heads down, we’re going to all clear, and we’re going to get out of here before…” She doesn’t dare tell him about the wraiths—he’ll want to fight them all. “Before all the crowds start trying to leave. I’ve got you by the arm. Close your eyes. The minute I see your blue line, I’ll try. And Finn, promise me, whatever you do, do not look up!”

  He nods. Just before closing his eyes, he says, “I’m going to kill them all.”

  “You will,” Amanda says. “You and me, both.”

  THRONGS OF PEOPLE have also opted to depart the park ahead of the massive flood of guests, using the distraction of the fireworks as a cover. Amanda joins them, steers Finn alongside families pushing strollers, the elderly, and those who are plain exhausted. As many people seem to be leaving Disneyland as there are staying behind. The crowd offers the two Keepers good cover.

  A faint blue line sparkles on Finn’s neck and runs down his shoulders in bursts. It’s like he’s being struck by tiny bolts of lightning. The blue worms of electricity crawl and sputter, but fail to join in any kind of continuity. Amanda can’t remember witnessing anything like this partial all clear; it’s more like Maleficent’s fireballs, bundles of static electricity searching out a ground wire.

  The pulses come more quickly now, flashes of pure brilliance. A small boy walking alongside them tugs his mother’s sleeve and points. Amanda directs Finn away from them. They can’t afford to be noticed.

  Above the castle, the fireworks build to a finale. Some of those walking turn to face the spectacle. Finn and Amanda continue past, heads down. He is now outlined in pure blue; he guides Amanda, whose eyes squint shut as she exhales a long, slow breath. Her neck begins to sparkle.

  By the time they reach the gates, Finn is too distracted by Amanda’s crossing over and the crush of guests to notice that he’s guiding them through a covered turnstile.

  Seeing two kids move through the turnstile causes a Security guard to squint and lift his walkie-talkie to his lips.

  * * *

  Philby awakens in the Morgue, across and down the hall from the Crypt. He lay down in one of the aisles between the rows of file cabinets before crossing over; now it takes him a moment to orient himself. He has never asked the other Keepers if they suffer this same disassociation upon returning: he has no idea where he is or how he got there; he’s not even sure who he is. It’s horrifying, isolating, this sensation that he belongs to nothing, not the room he finds himself in, nor the body he looks down and sees.

  But what troubles Philby most is that each time he crosses over, the disassociation upon his return lasts fractionally longer than the time before. Professor Philby is curious about the progressive nature of this sense of separation—what might cause it, what might prevent it. Philby the kid is plain scared by it, which is how he finds himself counting the seconds, hoping to identify where he is, who he is, and what he’s doing there. Seven…eight…nine…

  He’s got it! The fireworks. Wraiths, spinning overhead. The search in all directions for Finn or Amanda. His finger on the Return, knowing what must be done. The look in Willa’s eyes as it’s apparent that they’re not going to find Finn or Amanda…and that they can’t stay one minute longer.

  Philby peers into the tunnel in the direction of the Crypt. Stepping out, he hears voices and darts back inside the Morgue, sneaking a look as he goes. It’s Brad and Joe. They pause to look in both directions. Philby leans back. When he next looks, they are gone, having entered the storage room that accesses the Crypt.

  It’s after 9:00 P.M., long past working hours. Their arrival suggests that someone reported seeing DHIs in Disneyland. Or maybe the wraiths, or the massive battle in Toontown. Joe and Brad are being held accountable for the chaos.

  Philby looks down at his hand. He’s holding the Return.

  Finn and Amanda’s only hope of getting back lies inside that lab down the hall. If he can’t return them, they will be stuck in SBS until he does—comatose here in this world, in serious danger as DHIs in the other.

  * * *

  With only a matter of yards to go until they reach the entrance to California Adventure, Amanda calls to Finn. “Do you hear that humming?”

  Finn says nothing.

  “It’s like summer, but louder,” she says. “Like cicadas,” she says. “Crickets.”

  “It’s not crickets!” Finn grabs her hand and pulls her in the direction of the La Brea Bakery. A pair of Segways appears at the gate area, speeding toward them.

  “How did you—?” Amanda asks.

  “I remember that sound from Epcot. The Segways.”

  They run hard, dodging around a ticket house. “This’ll slow ’em,” Finn says. They pass some palm trees and jump over a low barrier into the bakery’s courtyard, where they weave among umbrella-covered tables.

  “That’s the back of Soarin’,” Amanda says. “My favorite ride.”

  The monorail sweeps past.

  The Security guys on Segways, blocked by the planter island, move briefly away from the Keepers in order to get around the obstruction. They attempt to keep an eye on the pair, but that means looking in the opposite direction from the one they’re traveling in. One Segway catches a wheel on the barrier, and its helmeted rider falls off.

  “Now!” Finn says, leading Amanda up to the wall that serves as a boundary to California Adventure. “You’re blue!”

  “You, too.”

  It is a formidable moment for both, that instant in which one must trust the present, believe in the system, and demonstrate a total willingness to forget practical knowledge and commit. The commitment asks for an implied sacrifice: if they hit that wall running at full speed and are not one hundred percent DHI, they will go down in a bloody heap of broken bones, unconscious.

  For safety’s sake, the Keepers like to test obstructions—run a hand through, stick their hologram heads inside—but there’s no time. Finn and Amanda need to vanish. The remaining Security guy will imagine they have run off, yet be fully aware that there’s nowhere they could have run without his seeing them. Next, he will assume they’re hiding. He and his fallen partner will kill time canvassing the area. They may call for backup.

  Amanda and Finn aren’t looking ahead as they reach the wall. They aren’t squinting their eyes or expecting the worst. No.

  At the moment of would-be contact, they turn their heads to each other. And they are smiling.

  * * *

  Finn and Amanda, now fully DHI, weave their way amid the pine trees at the side of Disney’s Grand Californian Hotel, slip under the monorail, pass through a backstage wall and, soon after, alongside a parked single-engine airplane, emerge onto the path near the entrance to Soarin’ Over California. To avoid the crowds, they remain on the perimeter. This proves to be their first mistake.

  The sec
ond is not trusting their ears.

  Taking long strides to cover as much ground as possible without breaking into an outright run, Finn and Amanda pass the twenty-foot-high bear standing outside Grizzly River Run. Behind them comes the sound of something breaking and crunching, followed by a steady clomp, clomp, clomp.

  Amanda is focused not on these obvious sounds, but on the more disturbing drone of scratching and rubbing, like a thousand people running their fingernails along the teeth of a thousand combs in unison.

  “That sound—it’s still there, and it isn’t Segways,” she says. “Listen!”

  “Bear!” Finn says, glancing back. He steers Amanda with him into the Redwood Creek Challenge Trail. He has no time to think about Wayne, pushes the thought away.

  “Hide!”

  The giant River Run bear, wearing a floatation vest and carrying a paddle and a raft, hardly seems like an Overtaker. Amanda pushes Finn into the tunnel through Big Sir, Disney’s giant redwood tree.

  There’s a second bear, a six-foot-tall honey-colored grizzly just outside the area. Breaking loose from its pedestal, it looks mean, moves as if sore, and drools hungrily.

  The Challenge Trail, an obstacle course of stairs and rope bridges mostly covered by a roof, offers the two Keepers a place of refuge. The griz runs like a much bigger creature, each stride covering two yards. Finn and Amanda power up the stairs. The bear is behind them, close enough to paw at what’s left of their holograms. Their blue outlines sputter; their limbs tingle; they’re losing all clear.

  Finn is first onto the rope bridge, deftly dancing across webbing that springs like a trampoline. Amanda takes two steps and falls through, bouncing the net and dropping Finn, who falls on his back.

  The salivating griz charges for Amanda and goes into the net face first, his front legs slipping through the gaping holes in the webbing. He bites angrily, attempting to take her arm off. Instead, he snaps the section of rope nearest his snout, and his head falls through as well. In his struggles to get free, he only succeeds in ensnaring his hind legs.