Kingdom Keepers VI (9781423179214) (17 page)

“I am afraid not,” said Omar.

“The picture people,” said Giuliana.

Willa had never heard the term before. Both she and Philby suppressed grins.

“That would be us,” she said. “We are…” She froze.
We are…what?

“Designing a game.” Philby stepped forward. “You know: hide-and-seek? It's like that. One of us hides and the kids—the passengers—have to find him—”

“On their way into dinner,” Willa added. They had a flow going now.

“Something to make the Royal Palace as much fun for the younger passengers as Animator's Palate is.”

Both waiters nodded at once. Waiters moved from dining experience to dining experience with the guests they served. They didn't need any reminders about how popular the Animator's Palate was.

“So one of our friends is hiding in here now,” Willa said.

“And we're going to look around to find him,” Philby added.

“You're welcome to join us if you like,” Willa said, inviting them.

“You are kind to make this offer,” Omar said. “We have jobs we must complete.”

They made no effort to stop the two kids from searching the room.

“Shouldn't take long,” Willa said.

They turned and separated, dramatizing their searching. Willa reached a waiter station and opened a cabinet without looking back for approval. Philby picked up on her lead. They were making good progress, having covered a full quarter of the vast dining room. Now a third. Half.

By this time, the two service staff no longer knew they existed. They finished setting up a table; the next time Willa looked back, they were gone. This should have made her feel victorious; instead, the size and emptiness of the Royal Palace sunk in. What if Maybeck wasn't the only one in hiding?

She struggled to rid herself of the memory of the doughboys swinging meat cleavers, but to no avail. Then her spine tingled as she passed a row of painted portraits along the far wall. Each portrait depicted a particular princess: Aurora, Belle, Cinderella, Snow White. Aurora's eyes had just moved.

It's a painting,
Willa reminded herself.
The eyes of
paintings don't move.

“And the dolls in It's a Small World don't come alive,” she muttered to herself cynically.

Aurora was the princess in
Sleeping Beauty
. The
villain in
Sleeping Beauty
was the dark fairy, Maleficent.

Willa worked her way over to Philby, who was currently knocking on the columns and then cupping his hands and speaking to them; if anyone saw him they would lock him up in a straitjacket.

“Over my shoulder,” she whispered, “very carefully. The eyes in the Aurora portrait.”

“Got it,” he said, waiting several long seconds before changing columns and stealing a look in the direction of the far wall.

He passed Willa a minute later. “Those peepers are creepers.”

“Moving.”

“Yup.”

“It's the OTs.”

“Not necessarily, but I'm not sure that it matters exactly who it is. That painting is watching us.”

“What do we do?”

The professor glanced about. “We've got it
covered
,” he said, softly. “First, we locate him—if he's even here. Then, we'll take care of Miss Crazy Eyes.”

“I'll start over there,” she said, “and work to the front.”

“We're almost done.”

Willa headed to the farthest corner of the dining room, an area removed from the rest of the dining area and one where an especially large waiters' station had been built into the wall, wisely placed so as to be invisible to virtually all of the dining passengers.

Twice the length of any of the others, it also contained twice the number of cabinets.

Willa opened up the second of these. It appeared filled with an oddly formed stack of table linens. But something made her reach inside and feel around behind them, pulling them out onto the floor.

“Terry?” she hissed, leaning fully into the cabinet.

“Willa?” Maybeck's voice whispered weakly.

Philby heard her talking to herself and abandoned the pillar that he was speaking to. He worked his way toward her, keenly aware that the Aurora painting could be watching him. Thankfully, unless it could see around corners, they were safe. Squatting, he helped Willa up and studied the empty cabinet.

“He spoke,” Willa gasped.

“Can you hear me?” Philby said.

After a moment, a groan issued from the cabinet.

Philby searched the ceiling and walls for possible security cameras—the devices most commonly used to project their DHIs.

“He's in DHI shadow,” Philby said to Willa. “Nice place to hide, man,” he told the empty cabinet.

“Maybeck, you were struck by lightning,” Willa said. “Your body is in a coma in the ship's hospital.”

“Tired,” the DHI said. “Hurting.”

“You have to wake up,” Willa said. “You have to work really hard to wake up.”

Maybeck said nothing.

“Maybeck!” Philby said more loudly.

Maybeck groaned again.

“When I return you, you'll be back in the ship's hospital. You know that jolt you feel when you're returned?” he asked rhetorically. “You need to harness that jolt. Use it. Let it wake you
all the way awake.
”

“They're going to take you off the ship otherwise,” she said. “No one wants that.”

“We want to get you out of here,” Philby said. “But we need your help. Are you hearing us?”

“I hear you.”

“The Return,” Philby said. “Use it.”

“Repeat it,” Willa said.

“Wake…up,” Maybeck said.

“Or get left behind.” Willa knew Maybeck well; he would not want to be miss anything.

“Got it.” Maybeck already sounded slightly less traumatized.

“It's going to happen soon. Willa's going to stay here with you as long as possible.”

“Don't go back to sleep,” Willa said. “Fight to stay awake.”

“Easy for you to say.” That sounded more like the Maybeck she knew.

With the two waiters gone, Philby threw a tablecloth over the Aurora portrait on his way out. He texted the others that they'd found Maybeck and that the OTs may have been watching. That he, Philby, would return Maybeck within a matter of minutes.

The rest was up to Maybeck.

* * *

The I-95 corridor stood empty, the result of the Canal celebration up on deck. Finn held his head high and his shoulders square, attempting to express a confidence he didn't feel. The ship's hospital was up ahead on his left.

Not long ago, Finn had headed into the dark tunnels of Fort Langhorn to literally catch the Overtakers napping. It seemed only likely that they would attempt to repay the favor—to try to capture the comatose Maybeck when he was defenseless.

When will any of this end? Finn thought. How do we break their hold for good? Does Wayne know? Does anyone? How do you stop a fifty-year war?

Finn wondered if they were just pawns, foot soldiers in some tiny battle in a war now older than their parents. Had they escalated things by bringing in technology? Hadn't everyone been better off when there was little more going on than after-hour pranks between the
villains and heroes?

These seeds of doubt grew roots as Finn drew closer to the hospital. He questioned the point of it all, including his leading a bunch of friends into life-threatening situations time and time again. He knew what he'd face when he passed through the door ahead—no better time to try to capture Maybeck than now. Determined to reduce their numbers and spread the concern Finn was now experiencing, Maleficent would take advantage of the Canal celebration; she had proved herself an experienced tactician.

Normally, Finn would approach such confrontations
as a DHI, able to use his transparency to his benefit. Perhaps this was part of her plan as well: force him into the open, exposed him as mortal flesh, a physically vulnerable young man, not a projection of light and mirrors.

Looking back at the still-empty corridor, Finn wished he hadn't tricked Charlene; he could use the company and support. If you wanted anyone in a confrontation, it was Charlene: levelheaded, nimble, and fast. What kind of stupid jerk would
stop
such a teammate from joining a potential battle?

His Wave Phone vibrated in his pocket. Charlene, no doubt trying to talk him out of going this alone. And while he'd just been thinking the
same thing
, he had no desire to argue the matter. He left the phone in his pocket.

The iridescent glimmer of unnatural light beat down uniformly from the ceiling fixtures overhead, causing a dreamlike shimmer on the walls and floor. It looked strangely like a ship's version of the gates of heaven, or wherever people went when they were no longer people. Was this to be the end of it all?

It was only a single vibration: a text message, not a call. That might be anyone. He slipped his hand into his pocket.
Chicken!
his conscience called loudly. He
was stalling, using any excuse not to open the door and confront whatever evil lay on the other side. He released the phone and let it fall back to the bottom of his pocket.

He pushed down on the lever and leaned his shoulder into the metal door.

* * *

Mattie Weaver huddled on a toilet seat in Vibe's restroom—the only place she could think of to be truly alone. Maybe he hadn't recognized the Caller ID on his Wave Phone. Couldn't he assume it was from a friend if the number came from stateroom 816? She typed the message a second time, struggling with the antiquated system for text entry the phones used.

Her thumb hovered above the
SEND
key below the phone's tiny green screen. She was about to reveal herself in a way she had hoped to avoid. She was about to enter someone else's fight. A favor for a friend was about to turn into volunteering for a team she knew little about.

Her thumb pressed the key.

one of you is going to die


* * *

“Oh, hello.” Finn was met by a ship's crew member, Maybeck's nurse. “I'm—”

“I know who you are.” She was twenty-five and quite
beautiful. He thought he'd seen her around the ship.

“A friend…of Terry's.”

“Yes.”

“And I…Well, how's he doing?”

“Same, I'm afraid. No metabolic changes, no motion or activity.”

He's suspended in SBS,
Finn wanted to say.
He'll be
returned in a matter of minutes, and I need to protect him
until then
. Instead he made the proverbial offer that could not be refused.

“I plan to be here for a while. If you wanted to go up on deck for a few minutes and catch the festivities, I'd be happy to text you if there're any changes.”

She studied Maybeck's still form, then Finn.

“You sure you don't mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Someone has to be here at all times.”

“I understand.”

“Don't mess with that,” she said pointing to a syringe on a stainless steel tray. “That's to sedate him if he wakes up too violently. It happens.”

“Of course not.”

“I'll be five minutes, tops.”

“No problem.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“It's incredible up there. Awesome.”

“This is really nice of you.”

“Not at all.”

“You know, on second thought…you mind turning around?”

“I…ah… Of course not.”

“I shouldn't leave any meds out.”

But as Finn turned, he found himself facing the polished frame on the back of the interior door—
the
mirrored
frame. The nurse carefully put the tray bearing the syringe into a cabinet, which she then locked. The card key was returned to the drawer on the right of the cabinet.

“Five minutes,” she said, pinching his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“Sure.”

She pulled the door shut behind her.

Finn searched the room for what he needed. Was it all here? Would it be enough? He started collecting items necessary to his plan. While he was at it, wanting to let Philby know that Maybeck could be returned now, he withdrew his Wave Phone. His chest tightened at the text message waiting there for him.

one of you is going to die


He spun around, facing the unconscious Maybeck.

“Not you!” he said. “Not going to happen!”

* * *

Clayton Freeman stood by the door of Vibe, his iPAQ mobile device in hand. By his estimation there were about a hundred kids out on the club's small deck; he had little hope of finding the one he was after. The way he saw it, he had a choice to make: he could stay where he was and monitor the iPAQ to tell him when the radio frequency tag inside the stolen laundry tripped the sensor on its way out, or he could go looking for the kid. Both choices had benefits and risks.

The relay to the iPAQ would lag—the wireless system could be delayed anywhere from ten to forty
seconds…
or longer
. But there couldn't be many kids wearing Cast Member laundry—specifically, a white polo T-shirt, size extra-large. Even so, he didn't want to mix it up with the kids and risk the stowaway slipping past him.

The better solution, he decided, was to wait outside the club entrance for the tagged shirt to pass him.

The spider weaves the web and waits.

“So close,” Clayton told himself.

Catching this stowaway was certain to make him a star in the eyes of Uncle Bob and the company. Clayton Freeman was hungry for advancement. This stowaway was his ticket to be director of security on a ship of his own.

He bit back his impatience and waited for the electronic web to signal a catch.

* * *

It took Finn a minute to realize his mistake: by trying to protect the comatose Maybeck, he had also set him up for trouble; by giving the nurse a moment off, he had invited an attack. The Overtakers had been watching the ship's hospital, waiting for just this moment. And now Finn had put himself and Maybeck
in harm's way.