Kingdom Keepers V (9781423153429) (22 page)

“Lay back!” Finn ordered Charlene. He caught her under her knees and behind her neck and held her like a baby in his arms. In order to do so, he'd made himself solid.

“Finn, don't!” Willa said, the spiral of fish closing in on them.

He lay Charlene out on the water's surface, pulling her arms out as flotation. She steadied and calmed. A thin, athletic girl, her body was muscle and bone and did not float well.

“Take a deep breath and hold it,” he instructed. “Arms and legs out. You'll float better.”

She did as he said, and though her legs fell away slightly, she stayed on the surface. She managed to relax and immediately calmed.

“I'm sorry,” Charlene said.

“No worries. We've got this,” he said encouragingly.

Willa, being Willa, had already adopted the back float alongside Charlene.

“Finn?” Willa said tightly as the water's surface began to boil with frantic needlefish rapidly closing on them. “Float with us! There's no time.”

Finn tested Charlene's hands—they were no longer solid. “Just like that,” he said. “No matter what happens, hold it just like that.”

“Got it,” Charlene said.

“Where's
all clear
when you need it?” Willa said.

Finn could only think of Philby and his claim to have added control over 2.0. It made him think of Wayne. And that made him wonder if Wayne now favored Philby over him as the leader of the Keepers.

“Here they come!” Charlene said, pointing with her outstretched arm.

She shouldn't have pointed. The intention of pointing made her finger solid.

The needlefish took it as an offering of, well, finger food. A hand suddenly broke the surface and swept the needlefish aside just as they were about to feed on Charlene's finger.

Maybeck's head popped up.

“Gawd, I love 2.0,” he said. “Did you see that?”

Finn couldn't stop himself from grinning. Maybeck's overconfidence—his conceit—was nearly always contagious, if not occasionally grating.

But Maybeck too saw their predicament: the encroachment of the churning swirl of aggressive fish, ever closer. The girls laid out on their backs like so much snack food. Finn's troubled face.

“F…i…n…n,” a terrified Charlene said, “tell me you have a plan.” She craned her neck to get a look at him.

By this point Maybeck was splashing at the water, trying to hold off the needlefish—a futile effort, but one that occupied him.

“A helicopter rescue would be nice,” Maybeck said. That was another thing about Maybeck: he could lighten up any situation. “Where's Neptune when you need him?”

Mention of the mythical hero spurred a memory of Triton at Typhoon Lagoon. Of the ocean king standing up to Ursula and holding her off. Of him offering Finn his support in case of trouble. What was the code he'd offered?

“Finn? Buddy?” the splashing Maybeck called out. The ring of foaming water caused by the net of needlefish closed to within a foot of them on all sides. A few brave fish darted toward the outstretched girls. Maybeck and Finn splashed the water, trying to hold them back, but it was a losing effort.

Stressed by the fish attacking, Finn couldn't recall the code. Little pieces of the expression would float through his consciousness—lies? Cries? He couldn't grab hold of the whole thing.

The funnel of fish converged toward the center. Open mouths. Teeth.

The words arrived. “Starfish wise, starfish cries.”

“What?” Charlene said.

Finn repeated the Triton code, this time louder.

Nothing happened.

“Dude,” Maybeck said. “You're losing it. Hang in there.” Then, “Ow!” as a fish took a bite of his hand. Maybeck managed to splash the water and create a hole in the closing silver.

Finn did the same. Then he lowered his head into the water.

To Willa, it looked as if he were sinking. “Noooo!” she screamed.

Finn spoke the Triton code underwater. “Starfish…wise, starfish cries…”

He resurfaced.

Nothing. Only the needlefish.

Then…

“Look!” Willa said, pointing.

Finn turned to see the miracle of angel-like fish popping out of the ocean and flying through the air twenty yards at a time. Dozens at first, then hundreds. Thousands, maybe. Flying right for them.

“We're doomed,” Charlene said.

“No,” Finn said, “we're saved. They're on our side.”

Finn and Maybeck splashed more holes in the ranks of the needlefish, protecting the floating girls.

“Dude?” Maybeck said, his voice uncommonly anxious. “What now?”

Then, like Old Faithful, the water exploded up around the Keepers. It shot into the air five feet, ten feet, twenty in a giant plume. The explosion pushed back the needlefish, driving them away from the Keepers, creating a ring of safety.

It wasn't just water forming this twenty-foot-high fountain, but the dainty flying fish, their fins stretched out as wings. They flew high, straight up out of the water, and then plummeted back down, a thin column growing thicker. Soon, Finn and the others found themselves in the eye of the column, the needlefish driven back and away, farther and farther until the Keepers were safe.

The column of foaming water slowly lowered and the eye of the water storm began moving slowly toward the
Dream
.

“They're protecting us,” Willa said. “They want us to swim with them.”

As a group they swam toward the ship.

“Are you going to explain the flying fish?” Charlene asked Finn.

“Typhoon Lagoon,” Finn said. “King Triton's code.”

“We have King Triton on our side?” Charlene said.

“Looks like it,” Finn said.

“How cool is that?” Charlene said.

“So does that mean we get Eric, too?” Willa said. “Because Eric is definitely hot, and if I had my choice I'd take Eric over some white-haired king merman any day.”

Charlene chimed in. “I've had a crush on Eric since I was about eight.”

Maybeck said, “And I thought you were crushing on me.”

“Who says I'm not?” she fired back.

“Trying to get me jealous?”

“Maybe.”

“It's working,” Maybeck said.

With the angel fish protecting them, they moved smoothly toward the ship.

Finn spent the time considering their rescue by the flying fish, the existence of Tia Dalma on the island, the hyenas on the deck of the ship, and the crew members' apparent obedience to some form of an Overtaker. He tried to piece together how any of it might connect to the stolen journal and their assignment to retrieve it. How it might connect to Chernabog.

“What does Tia Dalma have to do with any of this?” Finn called out.

It cooled the levity.

“Should we try to let Wayne know?” he said.

“I suppose,” said Willa.

Wayne was constantly trying to teach Finn leadership lessons. Were the challenges they were facing nothing more than tests of their control over 2.0? Was it an
exercise
? Finn was sick of being used. Why did everything have to be part of some lesson?

He was reminded of the mega-screen at an Orlando Magic basketball game. Three animated Magic ball caps on a table. A basketball slips under one of the caps and they shuffle and jump, the crowd trying to keep track of the cap hiding the basketball. A shell game, it was called.

He wondered again if part of the shell game was to keep Wayne and the Keepers focused on the ship while something was brewing at the Base. Which was the ultimate prize? Which was the hat containing the ball?

Now it was Wayne calling across an ocean at him: “Keep your eye on the cap with the ball! Don't get distracted. Don't lose focus for even a moment.”

“I get it!” Finn said aloud, shutting up the others.

“Get what?” Charlene said.

“Nothing,” Finn said.

“We're getting close,” Maybeck said.

“We don't want to be spotted,” said Charlene.

“Underwater,” Finn said. “I bet the flying fish will stay with us.”

The four holograms slipped out of sight. The flying fish surrounded them in a protective tunnel.

After a fair distance, Finn poked his head up. The two lifeboats were tied up to a portable dock floating below an open gangway. He swam closer, and his ears broke the surface as well. He marveled at how clear his hearing was—how far into the ship he could make out sound.

The lifeboats were empty, as were the dock and the doorway in the hull of the ship. He waved beneath the water and three more heads appeared.

“Clear,” he whispered.

“Two by two,” Willa said.

Finn motioned Charlene forward, and she slipped past him. Grabbing hold of a line used to tie a lifeboat, she pulled herself up and threw a leg onto the dock. A moment later she extended a hand to Finn and helped pull him up.

Their holograms and hair were dry—no indication they'd been swimming. They approached the open gangway at the edge and peered inside where three crewmen were busy working, their backs to them. Finn and Charlene both took a deep breath and stepped aboard. They headed quickly through the maintenance area to an open door and out into a crew member–only passageway.

They were heading down a corridor. A crewman approached with a look of disapproval on his sunbaked face.

“You there!” the man called.

“Stay with me,” Finn whispered, taking Charlene by the hand.

“We're the Kingdom Keepers,” Finn said proudly.

The crewman stopped and appraised them. “So you are! Good to meet you!”

“And you.”

Finn shook the man's hand. Charlene offered one of her dazzling smiles. Maybeck and Willa arrived behind them.

“Having fun so far?” the man asked.

“A blast.”

“It only gets better from here,” the man said. “You're going to love tomorrow.”

“We can hardly wait,” said Willa.

When Finn returned to his room, there was a card waiting with his name on it.

T
he Keepers woke up exhausted in their own beds at six thirty. Philby had returned them once they'd all congregated on board the ship. None of them had had more than four hours of sleep; Philby even less because of nerves.

The shore party excursion and entertainment crew leaders met in a bar called Pink. The Keepers all wore the shorts and golf shirts from their Magic Kingdom DHI identities. Max served as team leader. He informed the thirty people gathered for their assignments that they would cover all sorts of beach and island activities. Minnie, Mickey, Chip, and Dale were also in attendance; they wore their beach clothing and looked adorable. Minnie put her hands on her nose and mouth in astonishment as Max explained in detail how the two would arrive by golf cart and be interacting with the beach crowd just prior to lunch being served.

After posing with guests departing the ship for the beach they would have the rest of the morning off. Then they were to arrive by Jet Ski at two o'clock and lead a crab race before serving as referees for a volleyball tournament.

Each had his or her assignment, previously explained by Finn and Philby. Given recent developments, there were a good number of questions to answer before the all-aboard on the
Dream
at five o'clock. Chief among them: what was Tia Dalma doing on Castaway Cay, and why had the crew tried to take her aboard the
Dream
?

Philby had earlier explained their situation: “Until we locate Maleficent, or whatever Overtaker is running things on this ship, our chances of finding the missing journal are zilch. Because of this, we'll each tail a different person. Hopefully someone leads us back to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

“Please!” Willa had said. “Lose the metaphors. This is hard enough to swallow. Running around in the heat and sun trying to look all innocent.”

Collectively and individually they posed for forty-five minutes in the glare of hot sunshine, taking photos with guests by a Castaway Cay sign with the
Dream
in the background. Everyone smelled of suntan lotion. The little kids couldn't contain themselves in the company of celebrities.

Finn enjoyed such moments, but was also glad when it was over. Willa and Charlene awaited the dismissal of two girl crew members, each suspected of being the Asian girl who'd been spying on Philby and Finn at the Radio Studio. Maybeck was to change into a crew member's white shorts and pale blue polo shirt and infiltrate the island staff, while Finn had a secret appointment. Philby would serve as roamer—first retrieving and distributing the Wave Phones left behind on the island the night before and then serving as backup in the event anyone called for help.

Things had not gone well aboard ship. They needed to put the odds in their favor.

“You want to see something strange?” one crew photographer said to another, who'd been shooting pictures of the DHIs with guests.

“Sure,” she answered.

The other Keepers had already left. Only Finn lingered behind.

“Never seen anything exactly like it,” he said. With his huge Nikon camera strapped around his neck, he aimed its LCD display so the woman could view it.

“So?” the woman photographer said. “What's the big deal, Victor? You're always messing up the focus and exposure!” She bumped her shoulder to his.

“But that's the thing. The two of them there are in focus. It's that third one looks like a ghost.”

Finn's ears perked.

“Victor, you need help. Just because you can't take a decent photograph, don't go blaming it on the guests.”

“There were three kids in the shot. Centered. Focused. This third kid's gone all digital on me.”

Finn found it hard to breathe. He was familiar with this particular photographic problem. He desperately wanted a look at the camera's display.

The woman studied the display. “Could be glare off the water, I suppose. You should have shot toward the island.”

“Glare? I guess. But if it was glare it would have burned out that side of the frame. It wouldn't make a kid all pixelated.”

These were the words Finn heard so clearly: a kid pixelated.

“That's a digital camera, right?” Finn asked.

They looked over at him as if he'd snuck up on them.

“Ahh, yeah,” said the man in a pleasant voice. “What else?”

It was an anomaly common to the parks: taking a photo—a digital camera photo—of a DHI and a guest presented risks. In certain light, the digital cameras did not capture the digitally projected holograms. The DHIs pixelated.

“A kid?” Finn asked, his voice breaking with concern. “A girl?” He imagined Amanda or Jess in the photo. They were capable of crossing over as DHIs, though he'd heard of no such plans from Wayne. His heart beat frantically at the thought of seeing Amanda—even as a hologram.

“No, a boy. Big kid. Football big. You know?” the man said. “Your age. Maybe a little older.”

People always judged Finn younger than he was.

“You remember what color eyes he had?” Finn asked.

“Oh yeah, kid. I remember the eyes of every guest I shoot.”

“No need to get testy, Victor,” the woman chided.

Wayne had said he was going to project some of the recently recruited DHI volunteers on the ship—Kenny Carlson, Eddy Moriarty, Patty Standard, and others—but that would be at night when they were naturally asleep. Even at that, they were to fall under Keeper supervision. It wasn't possible they'd be projected in the daytime onto the island without Finn or Philby knowing about it.

Was Philby keeping it from him?

Was Wayne up to something?

“A boy,” Finn said, repeating what he'd just heard. “My age. A big kid.”

He knew someone who fit that description.

* * *

Willa and Charlene followed the two Asian girl Cast Members who'd left the
Dream
together. With the release of the guests, the island was a bevy of activity, two thousand people having come ashore to pursue their tropical beach vacation. There were more shore adventures offered on Castaway Cay than any other single port on the cruise, from Jet Skis to snorkeling, waterslides to sailing. It was like two thousand kids in the sandbox, all in swimsuits, their pale skin shining under a layer of sunscreen.

The island was a mile long and narrow, with a white sand beach stretching the distance facing west; on the opposite side were hundreds of acres of mangroves and jungle scrub, inhospitable terrain out of bounds for guests that had only a few narrow sandy lanes cut into it.

A motorized shuttle ferried those who didn't want to walk from one area to the next using a paved road that, in Disney park fashion, led to several organized stops, whether restrooms, restaurants, or shopping. The various thatched-roof structures carried names like Cookie's BBQ, and the beaches were designated by age: Scuttle's Cove, Hide Out, Serenity Bay. Hundreds of guests rode the shuttle despite the short walk required. Near the back of the crowd were Willa and Charlene, having never lost sight of their marks.

The shuttle dropped most of its passengers at the first stop—the family beach. A few dozen stayed on, mostly adults seeking refuge at the far end of the island or those wishing to wait for a second shuttle offering short motorized tours. The two Asian girls, and Charlene and Willa with them, disembarked at this last stop and awaited the tour shuttle. It arrived, carrying ten seniors and several families. Another half dozen boarded, including the four girls, and it headed down an old runway that, according to the driver's narration, had once served the family that had previously owned the island and could still be used in emergencies.

It was a strange sight on an island so small: a wide and long piece of asphalt cut into sand and palm trees. The shuttle paused at an abandoned plane at an intersection of the runway and one of the scenic tour roads. The Asian Cast Members climbed off here, but no other guests chose to disembark.

Willa and Charlene exchanged a glance. Would they give themselves away if they, too, climbed off now?

“What do you think?” Charlene asked.

“I think they've tricked us,” Willa answered.

“We'll have to get off at the next stop and come back.”

“What if I got off and you stayed on?”

“Excellent! Brilliant! But don't follow them, okay? Wait for me.”

“Done.” Charlene climbed off the opposite side of the shuttle car from the Asian girls and headed over to the abandoned airplane, studying it.

The shuttle continued on. Willa turned her head and tracked her friend, seeing that the two Asian girls immediately took off on foot up the runway. She waited impatiently for the shuttle's next stop. When it showed no sign of slowing, she called out, “Could I get off here, please?”

The driver slowed and Willa jumped off, thanking her. The shuttle pulled away. Willa waited for it to make the next curve, disappearing from view, and then took off at a run back toward where she'd left Charlene.

“They went up that way,” Charlene said, pointing up the runway, “and disappeared to the left.”

“That's out of bounds for us,” Willa said, knowing the layout of the island. “Not for them because they're Cast Members.”

“I can play a dimwit real well,” said Charlene.

“Lost and without a clue?” Willa said.

“Leave it to me.”

They hurried up the runway, following a sand path cut into the mangrove and prickly shrubbery. The surface of the sand was pockmarked with tiny dots, the result of an afternoon rain shower the day before. Interrupting this pattern were two sets of shoe prints.

“Easy-squeezy,” said Willa, pointing them out to Charlene.

Thirty yards later the trail divided, but someone had been on a morning run and the surface was disturbed, making it more difficult to determine the direction of the girls they were following.

“I think it's that way,” Willa said, pointing to the right.

“Terrific! I was going to say to the left.”

They studied the impressions more carefully and agreed to try the path to the right. Twenty yards later, another fork; and still another after that. They were deep into the island wilderness now, the vegetation too high to see over, the terrain too flat to offer landmarks.

“Stay clear of those trees,” Willa said, pointing one out. “Poisonwood. It'll burn something fierce.”

“Maybe we should turn back,” Charlene said. “Two lefts and a right, right?”

“Three lefts and a right,” Willa said, “wasn't it?”

“I thought it was two.”

“Oh, brother. We should have left markers or something.”

They looked behind at the path, hoping to make out their own tracks. It wasn't going to be easy.

“I've got a bad feeling about this,” Charlene said.

“I think we should whisper,” Willa whispered. “I hear something.”

They were quiet then, and, sure enough, the sound of voices carried through the jungle. But not from the direction where the path led. Instead, the voices came from their left, from inside the thicket of plants.

Charlene waved Willa ahead to a patch of sand free of the main path that showed the same distinctive tracks they'd been following. She pointed into a dark spot where the sunshine did not penetrate. They made some faces at each other; their silent sign language said,
Do we dare? What do you think? I don't know. Let's go
for it. Okay.

They crept through twisted, dark branches where the ground grew spongy and the smells were of decay and salt and marsh. After several minutes, Charlene turned back to look at Willa. The voices were clear now. They picked up the conversation in the middle.

“…bound to attract attention.” A boy's voice, possibly a man's.

“No kidding.” One of the girls.

“My manager, for instance.”

“How? How will he get here?”

“Golf cart.”

“So maybe someone forgets to plug it in tonight.” A different girl's voice. “Maybe it has no charge. Maybe it's dead.”

“He can use any Pargo he chooses, and a bunch of them have gas motors.”

“So maybe a fallen palm tree is blocking the way. Maybe he has to backtrack and it takes time.”

“I suppose that could be arranged,” the boy said. Definitely not a man now that they listened more closely.

“It shouldn't take long to off-load,” said the other.

“Like how long?”

“It's just a box. A heavy box. That's why you need to supply the Pargo. The pilot is going to claim engine trouble. Forced emergency landing. The box is being taken off to lighten the load. It all fits.”

“Yeah, I got it. Don't sweat it.”

“Do we look like we're sweating?” one of the girls asked caustically. “If we're sweating, it's only because it's so incredibly hot on this island.”

“It's nicer on the beach,” the boy said.

“Shut up, would you? Do we look like we're on the beach? I mean, seriously? It's got to be a hundred degrees out here. It's the jungle!”