Kingdom Keepers III Dinsey in Shadow

by Ridley Pearson

  Mrs. Nash looked as if she’d been slapped in the face.

  “Of course,” she said.

  “The four of us can have a discussion just as soon as I’ve met the girls and had a chance to visit.”

  “That’s fine,” Mrs. Nash said, clearly upset by the rebuke. She pul ed the pocket doors separating the parlor from the hal way shut on her way out.

  The woman cal ing herself Ms. Alcott looked over both girls careful y.

  “You look terrified, child,” she said to Amanda. “Is it me scaring you? I promise you there’s nothing to fear.” She lowered her voice. “I’m not from Timmerand, though I am on their board of trustees, and I did go there, years ago. I find the tel ing of smal lies is most convenient, though I do not advocate the practice as it’s an extremely delicate matter, an art form of sorts. Bending the truth is like pul ing back a spring—more often than not it snaps back and hits you. Stings like the dickens when it does.”

  “Why have you been fol owing my friend?” Amanda asked, careful not to give Finn’s name, but also wanting this woman to know that she, Amanda, was aware of her recent actions.

  “For the same reason I’ve come here,” Ms. Alcott answered. “Because I need your help. And you need mine.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Jess looked on, saying nothing. Amanda expected her to join in, and was disappointed when Jess did not.

  “Wayne,” she said, surprising both girls.

  “What about him?” Amanda asked.

  “Your friends are his only hope.”

  Amanda said nothing. She had no way of knowing if this woman was an Overtaker posing as a friend, or an honest friend of Wayne’s desperate to find him.

  “The Kingdom Keepers,” Ms. Alcott said. “Finn Whitman, Terry May—”

  “We cal him Donnie, by the way, not Terry, but we know who our friends are,” Amanda said.

  “You have something of Wayne’s,” Jess said quietly. Her sudden participation surprised Amanda.

  Ms. Alcott took a deep breath and sat back in her chair. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “What is it?” Jess said.

  “It’s something I need to get to Finn or one of the others. I’ve tried several times to make contact, but it hasn’t worked out.”

  “You’ve been stalking them,” Amanda said.

  “I’m an adult. You al are not. That makes things…difficult sometimes. Furthermore, I had to make sure the Overtakers were not fol owing either of us—me or them—and I could never be absolutely sure.”

  “Are there Overtakers outside the parks?” Amanda said.

  “Wayne has always believed so. But he tends toward the paranoid when it comes to his enemies. I have no proof either way. But he warned me, and I’ve always taken his warnings seriously.”

  “You’ve known him a long time,” Amanda said.

  “You might say that,” she said. “I’m his daughter. Wanda. Get it? Like Mickey’s wand?”

  “Aha,” Amanda said.

  “What is it?” Jess repeated. “This thing you’ve brought?”

  “My father has a very active imagination. It’s why he’s been such a successful Imagineer. That includes…wel , I don’t know how to put this exactly, but he can ‘see’ things. Or he thinks he can. He claims it’s an extension of his imagination. Most of the time it’s little things: he’l mention someone’s name and within a matter of minutes that person cal s him—I’ve seen that happen a lot with him. Or he’l know, five minutes before it happens, that al the lights are going to go out, that there’s going to be a power failure. It’s not that he talks about these things. But he’l go get a flashlight out of the garage, and right then al the lights go out. That sort of thing. As a child I always considered these things coincidences. As I grew older I saw them more for what they were: prescient moments. Prescient, meaning—”

  “We know al about prescience,” Amanda said. “‘Knowing beforehand.’”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “Or a curse,” said Jess, winning a sympathetic look from Amanda.

  “Yes, I suppose,” said Wanda. “Though for my father, a definite gift. He would do things like pul over to the side of the road without explanation. A minute later a car would come zooming down the wrong lane head-on at al the traffic. That kind of thing. Quirky things.”

  “You stil haven’t told us what he gave you,” Jess said.

  “I didn’t say he gave it to me,” Wanda said, correcting her. “I merely told you I had something of his.”

  Amanda said, “Jess has a similar gift to your father’s.”

  “I’d like to see it,” Jess said, sounding somewhat trancelike.

  “Please,” said Amanda.

  “Of course. I have no problem with that.” Wanda reached into her purse. “He made this the day before al that craziness at the Animal Kingdom, the day before he disappeared. He’d kept everything about your friends private until then. I hadn’t heard anything about it. But we spoke that day—he cal ed me, not the other way around, which was the far more common occurrence. He told me in detail about the Overtakers, about Finn and Maybeck and the others. You two included.

  He’d not done that before and I knew just his talking about it meant it was significant. I’m now of the belief that he might have foreseen his being captured, that he cal ed me because of this. He was laying the groundwork for your friends to save him, or at least to save the parks if it came to that.”

  She withdrew the item from her purse, opening her palm to reveal a smal , white cube made of typing paper. There were symbols written and drawn on the cube’s six surfaces.

  Jess picked it up and studied it, spinning it and taking in the various images. She closed her eyes, opened them and looked over at Amanda. She shook her head slightly: she hadn’t immediately flashed on anything to do with the box.

  “We can get it to Finn,” Jess said, not wanting to surrender it.

  “Oh, yes! Could you, please? As soon as possible!”

  “Tomorrow,” Amanda said. “I’l see him tomorrow.”

  “I can help your friends,” she offered. “I want to help.”

  “We can show the box to Philby,” Jess said. “He’s smart. He might know what it means.”

  “I looked up each symbol on the Internet,” Wanda said. “They were al easy enough to find. But none of it added up. And who can tel what order they’re supposed to be in? Without the order, the message—if there even is a message—keeps changing. But he didn’t intend it for me, did he? I don’t think so. I think it was for your friends. I think that’s what he was trying to tel me in the phone cal , without actual y saying it. He was always convinced the Overtakers were listening, watching. I think some of that rubbed off onto me, which is what made actual y contacting Finn or Maybeck so difficult for me. But then it occurred to me to talk to you. They’l believe you more than me, anyway.”

  “We’l make sure they get it,” Amanda said.

  “I want to help,” the woman said. “There are any number of ways I can help your friends.

  Access to the parks. Research materials. I’m very close to my father. I know much more than I probably should—about the parks, the Overtakers, Maleficent, even Chernabog. I’m not claiming to be as useful as my father—there’s only one Wayne. But he cal ed me for a reason that day, and I think the reason was for me to be involved in his rescue. I’m not saying I can take his place, but I want to help.”

  “We’l tel them what you’ve told us,” Amanda said.

  “I want to leave you with my phone number,” she said, scribbling out a number and offering it first toward Jess, but then passing it to Amanda as Jess’s concentration remained fixed on the paper cube she held. “Day or night, doesn’t matter. Please cal .”

  “Okay.”

  “I have access to al of my father’s things. His notebooks, keys, computer. There are any number of ways I can help.”

  “We have to come up with something believable for Mrs. Nash
,” Amanda said.

  Mention of the woman’s name snapped Jess out of her trance. “Yes, there is that.”

  “I can take care of it,” the woman said. “We’re recruiting you as boarding students. I’l have the school mail some brochures and applications as a kind of fol ow-up. I’l cal you. I can make it convincing, I promise. I can be very convincing.”

  “And so can your smal lies,” said Amanda, who stil didn’t know if she could trust this woman.

  She might not have anything to do with Wayne whatsoever.

  If not, then what had been her purpose in coming to the Nash House, and what damage had they done by talking to her?

  “I realize it may be asking a lot to expect you to trust me. My father has spent the past ten years training me in al things Disney. It’s a matter of pride for him. He loves the parks…wel …like he loves his own children. And that’s me. With or without you, I’m going to do whatever it takes to find him, to rescue him.” Her voice choked and she looked down, breaking eye contact with Amanda. “My father has spent basical y his whole life making the parks magical places—including creating the DHIs, I might add. The Overtakers wil do whatever is necessary to corrupt the parks, to drive guests away, to ruin the experience for everyone. Whether or not they have ambitions beyond the parks, who knows? But I’m not going to al ow everything my father has worked for to be taken away. At least, not without a fight. Maybe you don’t trust me—I can’t speak to that. But I can tel you it isn’t easy for me to put my faith in a bunch of kids. That may sound harsh, but that’s just being honest. That’s not a little lie, or a big lie, but the truth. But I don’t know where else to turn, and my father believes in your friends. He believes very deeply in them. He thinks they can accomplish what he has not been able to. I’ve never doubted my father, and I’m not going to start now. That’s about it. That’s about al I can tel you.”

  “What’s it like?” Jess asked, her voice soft and comforting.

  “Excuse me?” Wanda asked.

  “Having a father?” Jess said. “We’ve…neither of us…” Her voice trailed off.

  “It’s amazing. It’s the best there is.”

  Amanda swal owed deeply. She had a decision to make that wasn’t easy. “I know where you can find them—our friends,” she said. “I think they could probably use your help.”

  Wanda pursed her lips. Her eyes wel ed with tears. “Thank you! Thank you for trusting me!

  You won’t be sorry,” she said. “I promise.”

  11

  THE TRIP FROM THE MAGIC KINGDOM to Holywood Studios was a strange mixture of an eerie sense of nothingness combined with a heart-stopping awareness of imminent danger. Things Finn had taken for granted, like having a bus driver hold the door open, were not available to the invisible.

  Only he, Charlene, and Philby made it on board the first bus; Wil a and Maybeck were left behind as the driver, seeing no one, shut the bus door, closing them out. For the fifteen-minute ride to the Transportation Center Finn hadn’t been sure which of them had made it on with him. Once at the center, he tried talking, only to discover that he had no voice. Sound, it turned out, was part of the projection process. Until he reached Hol ywood Studios, he was not only invisible but whol y alone in a way he’d never experienced before. It was a condition, a state, he found unsettling and frightful: no one heard him; no one felt his presence.

  “It was as if I didn’t exist,” he told Charlene once they were both through the turnstiles.

  Entering the Studios had been tricky. He’d had no idea when, or even if, the projectors would pick up and start displaying his DHI. To complicate matters, he spotted two night watchmen. They might al ow characters their freedom, as Wayne had told him, but they wouldn’t appreciate kids running around.

  He’d timed his entry until a guard passed. He made a run for it: straight up the street toward the Kodak shop. One second he was invisible, the next a glowing blur of colorful light. He could see his arms and legs. As it turned out, Charlene was right behind him. The two sprinted up the empty street together, their attention on the back of the guard who’d just passed.

  “You!” came a man’s voice.

  A different guard; one neither of them had seen.

  He and Charlene skidded to a stop.

  “Do as I do,” Finn said under his breath.

  Suddenly Philby appeared from the turnstiles. Thankful y the guard’s attention had been on Finn and Charlene at the time, meaning that he missed a boy appearing out of thin air.

  “Hel o, there, park visitor! My name is Finn,” Finn said in an extraordinarily happy voice. “Can I help show you Disney’s Hol ywood Studios?” He struck a pose—one hand out, the other on his hip.

  Charlene caught on. Like Finn, she had little difficulty recal ing the lines she had once said repeatedly during the DHI recording sessions.

  “Hel o, there, park visitor. I’m Charlene, a Disney Host Interactive. I’m sorry, but I’m not able to read your identification pin. Please recite the guest number on your Disney Pass and I’d be happy to show you around.”

  The guard reached out. His hand swiped right through Finn, accompanied by an electronic buzzing.

  “Dang,” the guard said. He ran his hand through Finn again. He reached for his radio. “Hey, Tim…it’s Tanner. Can you check—?”

  “We…are experiencing a DHI server malfunction,” said Philby coming up from behind the guard. “Please…stand by.”

  “Tanner?” It was a man’s voice over the handheld radio.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Ahhh.…For some reason those host things didn’t shut down properly. You’d better ask tech services to look into it. I’ve got three of them out here talking to me.”

  “Talking to you?” the radio voice said.

  “Offering to show me around the Studios.”

  “Okay. I’m on it,” the man’s voice replied over the radio.

  Finn searched his memory and said, “I’m sorry you won’t be joining me today. Maybe another time. Advance reservations can be made through the dining hotline. Do you have any more questions?”

  “Umm…that would be no,” the guard said.

  “Have a star-fil ed day at Disney Hol ywood Studios.” Finn walked mechanical y toward the camera shop. He’d studied his real DHI enough to know that while the 3D projections were phenomenal y lifelike, movement was not perfect. When walking slowly, the DHIs tended to have stiff knees. When running fast, they blurred.

  A few minutes later, al five DHIs col ected outside the Kodak shop. The guard had moved on from Finn, eyeing Maybeck and Wil a as they arrived late. Finn didn’t feel like pushing his luck.

  “Split up in groups and meet over at Soundstage B in ten minutes. If you’re stopped by a guard, stick to the scripts we recorded for our DHIs.”

  “Is that how you got around him?” Maybeck asked. “Wil a and I saw you talking to him—”

  “Later,” Finn said. “We can catch up later.” He and Charlene took off up the street, mapping out a route in his head to the soundstages.

  “You were amazing back there,” Charlene said, running at his side.

  “It’s amazing that he didn’t question the way we’re dressed, that we’re out of costume. He must not know the DHIs very wel . He’s probably a night-duty guy.”

  “Do you think they’re watching us now?” she asked.

  “Could be,” Finn answered. “Philby would know about the security cameras, but we’ve got to assume they’re watching us.”

  “Then what’l we do?”

  “It may make some kind of weird sense to them to see us al meet up outside the same soundstage where we were created. That may give us an excuse to get inside.”

  “Isn’t that a little risky?” she asked.

  “You saw what happened with his hand,” Finn said. “It went right through me.”

  “Yeah. So?” she said. “That’s you. Most of the time our DHIs are kind of half and half. You know that. They can catch me. The rest of us
. Besides, what if they shut down the projectors like that guy said…”

  “The servers are always running,” Finn reminded her. “Philby said so and so did Wayne.

  They’l close our programs and assume we’re shut down. If they see us after that they’l file a maintenance ticket and forget about it.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Look, this is our chance to scout the soundstage. To see if we can figure a way inside and if Philby can figure out a way to shoot what we need to turn Amanda and Jess into DHIs. It was a hassle getting over here. You want to leave? We can leave. But—”

  “I’m not up for leaving,” she said, “but I also don’t like the idea of their checking us out, knowing where we are. The Overtakers have guys in security. We al know that. Getting lucky once doesn’t mean it’s going to happen every time.”

  “The cameras aren’t everywhere,” Finn said, as Soundstage B came into view. It was a large, sand-colored building, like a giant box. “The attractions, mostly. Philby wil know exactly where. I get what you’re saying: it’s better if we don’t advertise. But at the moment they’re thinking we’re part of a computer glitch. We can use that to our advantage.”

  “Behind us,” Charlene said, having glanced over her shoulder.

  Finn looked back. Whoever, whatever it was, was tal , clearly an adult, and moved like a woman. She seemed in a hurry to reach them.

  “What do we do?” Charlene asked.

  His temptation was to run first, answer questions later. But they’d had success fooling the guard. To run was to look guilty of something.

  “I think,” he said, “we just do like before. We play our DHIs.”

  “You sure?”

  The woman was closing the gap between them.

  “Ah,” Finn said. “You know the woman I told you about? The one at the school? The one Maybeck saw?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s her.”

  “So what do we do?” Charlene asked.

  “Walk faster,” Finn said.

  He stole another look back: the woman was stil gaining on them.

  “Should we run?” Charlene asked.

  “Where to? We can’t lead her to the soundstage, that’s for sure.”