Books by Adrienne Kress
THE DOOR IN THE ALLEY
THE RECKLESS RESCUE
THE QUEST FOR THE KID
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2019 by Adrienne Kress
Cover art and interior illustrations copyright © 2019 by Matthew C. Rockefeller
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Kress, Adrienne. | Rockefeller, Matt, illustrator.
Title: The quest for the kid / Adrienne Kress ; illustrated by Matthew C. Rockefeller.
Description: First edition. | New York : Delacorte Press, [2019] | Series: The explorers; [3] |
Summary: “On the run from nefarious, nameless thugs, Sebastian and Evie must travel the world to reunite the other explorers from the Filipendulous Five if they are to put all their clues together and find Evie’s grandfather before it’s too late” —Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018059291 (print) | LCCN 2018061240 (ebook) | ISBN 978-1-101-94015-0 (el) | ISBN 978-1-101-94013-6 (hardback) | ISBN 978-1-101-94014-3 (glb)
Subjects: | CYAC: Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. | Secret societies—Fiction. | Missing persons—Fiction. | Voyages and travels—Fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Action & Adventure / General. | JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Friendship. | JUVENILE FICTION /Mysteries & Detective Stories.
Classification: LCC PZ7.K8838 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.K8838 Que 2019 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23
Ebook ISBN 9781101940150
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
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Contents
Cover
Books by Adrienne Kress
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Part One: The Quest for the Kid
Chapter 1: In Which There Is a Phone.
Chapter 2: In Which…Hollywood.
Chapter 3: In Which We Meet a President and a Pug.
Chapter 4: In Which There Is Planning, Both Out Loud and in Loud.
Chapter 5: In Which We Lounge.
Chapter 6: In Which There Is Complicated Vindication.
Chapter 7: In Which It’s Finally Time to Do Things Right.
Chapter 8: In Which We Meet Some Stunt-Car Drivers. And Wheels.
Chapter 9: In Which We Drive!
Chapter 10: In Which We Experience Member Privileges.
Chapter 11: In Which the Night Reveals All…Or Some Things. At Least a Couple of Things.
Chapter 12: In Which We Do Lunch.
Chapter 13: In Which a Walk Turns into a Run.
Chapter 14: In Which We Hitch.
Chapter 15: In Which We Either Travel in Time or Meet Some People Very Devoted to Their Hobby.
Chapter 16: In Which Things Just Get Weirder.
Chapter 17: In Which Things Get, You Know, Even Weirder.
Part Two: Of Flappers and Valkyries
Chapter 18: In Which a Plan Is Made.
Chapter 19: In Which Everyone Gets the Chance to Chant.
Chapter 20: In Which the Butler Did It.
Chapter 21: In Which, Oh Boy, Did the Butler Ever Do It.
Chapter 22: In Which Things Wind Down with Hot Chocolate.
Chapter 23: In Which There Is a Skirmish and I Get to Write the Word “Skirmish.”
Chapter 24: In Which Things Fly in the Air.
Chapter 25: In Which the Next Chapter Begins.
Chapter 26: In Which We Get to Talk with Doris.
Chapter 27: In Which an Explorer Is Vulnerable.
Chapter 28: In Which Secrets Are Revealed, Codes Are Questioned, and Witches Are Helpful.
Chapter 29: In Which Sebastian Doesn’t Lie.
Chapter 30: In Which…Performing!
Chapter 31: In Which…Fighting!
Chapter 32: In Which…Singing!
Chapter 33: In Which Things End and Begin.
Chapter 34: In Which We Get to Experience the Submarine.
Chapter 35: In Which We’re Off!
Chapter 36: In Which Decisions Are Made.
Chapter 37: In Which We Go from Boat to Boat.
Chapter 38: In Which Sebastian Remembers.
Chapter 39: In Which We Witness a Reunion.
Chapter 40: In Which We Meet Alistair Drake.
Chapter 41: In Which the Past Is Revisited, but Not in That Fun Time-Travel Way, or Even That Grand Estate Reality-Show Way.
Chapter 42: In Which There’s a Fight. A Really Bad Fight.
Chapter 43: In Which No One Likes the Plan.
Part Three: An Inappropriate Adventure
Chapter 44: In Which Things Are Uncomfortable.
Chapter 45: In Which We Experience the Opposite of Feelings.
Chapter 46: In Which We Experience a Variety of States.
Chapter 47: In Which…Blip.
Chapter 48: In Which We Experience No Pain.
Chapter 49: In Which We Tell, Not Show.
Chapter 50: In Which We Seek Out a Waterfall.
Chapter 51: In Which a Solution Is Needed.
Chapter 52: In Which We Experience a Cliff-Hanger. Just Kidding.
Acknowledgments
About the Author
For Scott
The best kinds of stories, as we all know, start with pigs in teeny hats. Then they continue and take you to far-off countries and involve great white sharks and K-pop bands. Some stories start in the middle of the sentence and with brand-new characters you’ve never met. And still others begin suddenly and unexpectedly with a random paragraph for some reason.
And if you’re really, really lucky, some stories combine all those things.
And also maybe involve me getting to play the French horn.
No?
No French horn?
You sure?
Okay. No, that’s cool. That’s…cool.
The Kid sat staring at the chart of faces. Little circles showing expressions ranging from very happy to very sad. “Using this scale, how much pain are you in?” read the bubble letters printed on top.
He stared at the palms of his hands. They were wrapped in white gauze. Some red could be seen on the bandage of the right one. He balled his hands into fists. They stung but felt kind of right.
“Dangerous business, stunt driving,” the doctor said.
The Kid nodded. But of course, it wasn’t. Not really. It was far less dangerous than what he had been through in his former career. This t
ime, though, things had gone wrong. How had the crew not seen the unfinished road? How could he not have taken it upon himself to check out the set? Time pressures. “Get it all done in one take. We only have the helicopter for one day.” Stupid excuses. All of it was so stupid. He’d almost fallen to his death over the side of a cliff. All for what? For a movie? Not even a very good movie, if the script he’d glanced over was anything to go by. Thank goodness for fast-acting second assistant directors coming to save your life.
“Well, you’re good to go when you’re ready.” The doctor smiled at him briefly and then left the room.
The Kid sighed and slipped off the table and onto the floor. Time to put himself back together. He reached for his jeans and slipped them on under the hospital robe before taking it off. Then he put on his shirt. Then he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small water-filled vial attached to a thin leather string. He stared at it for a moment.
There was a knock on the door. Quickly he put the vial around his neck and hid it under the shirt. “Yeah,” he said.
A man entered. Someone he’d never seen before.
“Charles Wu?” asked the man, with a smooth British accent. If the man hadn’t used his stage name, the Kid might have been suspicious. But he was used to Hollywood types showing up out of the blue, and he just sighed inwardly.
“Yeah.”
“I have a job offer for you,” the man said, getting straight to the point.
The Kid sighed and almost burst out laughing. “Dude, this is so not the time or the place. Talk to my agent.”
“Your agent seems to be MIA.” That was true. The Kid hadn’t been able to get in touch with Annalise for two days, now that he thought about it. “How would you like to work on a project that’s low-risk, well paid, and safe? And very easy.”
“Never been a fan of any of those things,” said the Kid. He tucked in his shirt and grabbed his leather jacket off the back of the chair. He walked past the man to the door.
“Think about it,” said the man, reaching into the inside pocket of his tweed blazer. He pulled out a business card and passed it to the Kid. “Call me if you’re interested.”
The Kid slipped the card into the back pocket of his jeans without looking at it. Then he pulled out his sunglasses and put them on. “See ya,” he said, then walked out into the hospital corridor.
He strode with purpose and a little swagger as he made his way to the outside world and took a deep breath of cool nighttime air.
Yes, breathing was a nice thing that he was still able to do. His mind flashed to dangling off the side of the cliff that morning. The memory was so vivid, he could feel the fear rush through his system as if he was still there.
Low-risk.
Safe.
Very easy.
The Kid crossed in front of the taxis and made his way to the parking lot, and eventually reached his bright red BMW 4 Series convertible. He smiled when he saw it. His agent’s assistant had brought it for him, knowing full well that there was no way the Kid was taking a taxi home.
After slipping into the driver’s seat, he adjusted all the settings. He took in a deep breath and sighed long and hard.
Low-risk.
Safe.
Very easy.
He turned on the engine.
Good money.
The Kid peeled out of the parking lot and roared toward the freeway, the wind in his hair, his palms, stinging a little, holding the wheel.
Sebastian stared at the phone in Benedict’s palm, held out toward him, a kind offer. The buzz of the Los Angeles International Airport dimmed as Sebastian focused in on the small black box.
He didn’t know what to do.
Well, that is to say, with the phone. He knew in general what he was supposed to do. Or at least, what his friend Evie needed him to do: she needed him to help her find and rescue her grandfather Alistair, leader of the formerly famous exploring team the Filipendulous Five. Alistair was Evie’s only living relative. Sebastian knew that they had to put the team back together, then use the information hidden in the letters that Alistair had sent each of them to rescue him. They’d already gotten as far as finding and recruiting two of the four other explorers—animal expert Catherine and cartographer/photographer Benedict. And Sebastian knew that what he had to do was stay away from the scary trio of thugs in black leather jackets who had shown up a week earlier and were also after Alistair. The men wanted a map that the team had that led to a waterfall that was supposedly a fountain of youth. He knew he had to stay away from those men because he had memorized the key to the map before destroying it and was therefore very important to the bad guys, who had tried to kidnap him. Repeatedly.
All this he knew.
What he didn’t know was what he should do with a small phone sitting in a cartographer/photographer’s palm.
Now, it wasn’t about knowing how phones worked. That was obvious. Or why Benedict wanted him to use it—he wanted Sebastian to call his parents.
It was about knowing whether or not he should.
The thing was, Sebastian had put off calling his parents for a long time, coming up with explanations that pushed reasonableness boundaries at every opportunity. There was the fact that he and the others simply had to keep running away fast from the men in black who wanted his brain, so that he didn’t really have a second or the brain capacity to spare a moment to stop and make a phone call. There was the fact that when he did have a moment, it was while he was accidentally being held hostage by the manager of a K-pop band. The truth was, though, all that was behind him, and Benedict had a phone and Sebastian could have called by now.
But when they’d been in the capital city of Newish Isle and Benedict had been busy forging a passport for Sebastian to get him back home, and they’d had to sit around waiting for that—instead of maybe looking for a phone—Sebastian had decided to focus his mind on the moral question of breaking the law by using a fake passport, taking into consideration the fact that kidnap victims certainly were allowed a little bit of leeway to get back to their home country. To be fair, he had, for a moment, thought that maybe he should get his parents to send him his passport instead. But that would have meant talking to them, and that would have meant he’d have had to make a decision about whether he wanted to call them. So he hadn’t bothered making the suggestion of having his parents send him his passport. He had known that he’d be calling them soon enough. And from American soil. And when he was safe and sound. Which he’d thought might freak them out less. Maybe only a hair less, though.
It was interesting that Evie hadn’t made the suggestion either.
He’d hoped no one would ever actually say anything to him about the whole parents issue. He, Evie, Catherine, and Benedict had made it to Cairns, Australia, and then to Sydney. But when they’d been waiting for their connecting flight home, Evie had finally broached the topic.
He’d said he didn’t want to talk about it.
She hadn’t bugged him about it since.
Which was weird, since, of course, she was very good at bugging him about things.
Now they were in LA, ready to seek out the Kid. Not that they knew for sure he was here, but Benedict seemed pretty confident. The Kid had always wanted to be a stunt-car driver, evidently, and Benedict said that he’d once seen the Kid very briefly in a movie when his face had been accidentally visible.*1 So they’d traveled thousands of miles on a hunch. Definitely not something Sebastian would ever have approved of before. Not really something he approved of now.
But the hunch voyage had given him time to think.
Time was up.
“It’s really time, I think,” said Benedict, no judgment in his tone of voice, though Sebastian was starting to suspect that regardless of tone Benedict did have opinions and wasn’t always mildly ambivalent.
“You’r
e right….” Sebastian glanced around the airport as if looking for a way out, some kind of magical solution to his situation.
That was when he saw it.
“I think I’ll use that, though.” He pointed at the pay phone on the wall near the restrooms. It looked a little out of place, sad and lonely, unused and unloved. And just what Sebastian needed. Why did he need it? He wasn’t sure. Clearly his consciousness wasn’t quite up to speed with his problem-solving subconscious.
“How strange,” said Benedict, but he withdrew his phone and allowed Sebastian to wander over to the pay one.
“I’ll come too!” said Evie, joining him with a bright smile. “For support,” she said a little more quietly, so as—he imagined—not to embarrass him in front of the grown-ups.
Sebastian appreciated the gesture, but he’d really wanted to do this alone. With no witnesses.
Witnesses.
As if he was about to commit a crime or something.
What a strange thing to think.
They approached the phone and then stared at it for a moment. Sebastian almost felt sorry for it. Nobody used public phones anymore. This one had become kind of a museum piece, but it had not been treated half so respectfully. Someone with Wite-Out had tagged it with a flourish of initials. Others had left behind a couple of stickers peeled off bananas. Still someone else had evidently taken something sharp to it and carved away at the dark plastic, not really creating anything particularly profound, just using the phone as an outlet for some seriously pent-up frustration.
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