Two giant white bears, one standing, one down on all fours.
“If those things come alive…” Finn said, his voice shaking.
“We’re hamburger,” Philby said, finishing the thought for him.
“Thanks for that image,” Finn said.
“No charge.”
Morbid humor had a way of sneaking into their conversations at the strangest times.
They moved past the polar bears. There was something large and squarish up ahead to their left. Finn knew where they were.
“The cottage,” he said. “The start of the ride.”
Finn’s eyes had adjusted to where he could now see a life-size Norwegian standing in front of a cottage. Finn hurried over to a rock that was familiar to him from his last visit here as a DHI. He reached down and felt for the three handles he knew to be there.
“There’s an ax missing!” Finn whispered.
Philby stepped forward. Leaning against the rock was an old-fashioned ax and a sword. There should have been two axes.
“It’s her,” Philby said. “That’s why she came in here.”
Finn took up the sword, knowing it well from a previous visit. He handed the remaining ax to Philby.
“What would you have done?” said Charlene’s voice.
They both looked up as she stepped out of the cottage, the ax gripped in her hand.
They hurried over to her. “It is you!” Finn said. They hugged.
“You’re okay!” crowed Philby, also hugging her.
“Not really. Terrified’s more like it.” She addressed Philby. “Why did you send me here without telling me?”
“It wasn’t me,” Philby said. “It wasn’t like that. We can explain—”
“We think,” said Finn.
“But first we’ve got to Return. We’ve got to get you out of here.”
“There are CTDs out there…” she warned.
“We saw,” Finn said.
“We’ll have to be careful,” Philby said. “And if that fails…” He raised his ax.
A whizzing sound sizzled past Finn’s ear. A chopstick lodged in the painted Styrofoam scenery behind them. The next one flew through his shoulder, his pure DHI state preventing it from wounding him.
“Incoming!” he said. He felt his own terror beginning to take hold—his fingers tingling—and understood the mortal danger it presented. “No fear!” he reminded.
“Easier said than done,” Charlene cried out.
Yellow eyes glowed from across the stream. More arrows whizzed past.
“I can feel my hands,” Philby said.
“Me, too!” Charlene said. “And my feet.”
They weren’t in a state of pure DHI, which made them vulnerable to attack.
Philby and Charlene ducked behind the small rocks.
Eight trolls—knee-high old men with beards, whiskers, and huge eyes—appeared across the water. They carried kitchen pot lids as shields, steak knives as swords, carpentry hammers, and the homemade bows and arrows. They jumped across the water and charged.
The kids stayed behind the rocks. The trolls split up.
Philby took an arrow in the arm and screamed as he pulled it out. “That thing hurts!” he cried.
A troll came at Finn, his steak knife glinting. Finn swung the sword and knocked the knife out of the troll’s hand. Philby stood and pressed his back to Finn’s so they could defend in two directions. Charlene, on her knees, battled ax against hammer.
One of the old men surprised Finn from the right, stabbing him, but his sword passed right through Finn’s hologram. The guy fell, off-balance. Philby kicked him across the water into the scenery.
“Soccer!” Philby shouted to Charlene.
She stood and kicked out at the trolls, sending them flying.
“Goal!” Philby cried, as one of the trolls flew though the door of the cottage.
“That’s it!” Finn said. “We get them all into the cottage and trap them!”
Philby kicked one of the trolls, passing him to Charlene like a soccer ball. She expertly sent him through the cottage door. Finn battled with his sword. He heard Philby counting them down.
“Four…Five!”
Finn’s blade clanked against the steak knife of a competent swordsman. Philby came to his aid, toe-kicking the troll toward the cottage, where Charlene finished him off by sending him inside.
“Six!”
“I sent one across the water,” Finn said. “So that’s seven.”
The final troll dropped his hammer and threw up his arms in surrender. Philby grabbed his hands, threw him into the cottage, and Charlene shut the door. She used her ax handle to prop it shut.
The kids, out of breath, looked around for more trouble, but saw none.
“That was…weird,” Philby said.
“You okay?” Charlene asked.
Philby approached her and kissed her on the lips before she knew what he was doing. The kiss went on longer than Finn would have expected.
Charlene and Philby pulled themselves apart breathlessly.
“What…was…that?” Charlene asked, not a twinge of complaint in her voice.
“How do you feel?” Finn asked.
“That’s a stupid question,” she said. “Besides, that’s for Philby to ask, not you.”
Philby looked tranquilized. “I…that was…it was…”
“He had to do it,” Finn said.
“Excuse me?” Charlene said.
How would they know if she’d been put under a spell? Worse, how would they know if she’d come out of it?
“Do you remember going into the girls’ room at DisneyQuest?” Finn asked.
“What kind of a question is that?”
“One that needs answering.” He wished Philby would say something, but he remained stunned and unable to speak. He was staring at Charlene like he’d gotten religion.
“It’s none of your business. Eww.”
Philby finally managed to speak. “It is our business. Do you remember who followed you inside the girls’ room?”
She looked frightened. Her hologram’s blue outline faded. “What are you two talking about?” She blinked furiously, as if about to cry.
“Do you remember going into the bathroom at DisneyQuest?” Philby asked, repeating Finn’s question.
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“Do you remember anyone else in there with you?”
“Like who? Amanda? Willa? Who do you mean? We were all there that night.”
“Anyone else?” Philby asked.
The trolls were pounding on the door to the cottage to get out. Finn could barely hear himself think.
“How could you possibly know about this?” Charlene asked.
“Know about what?” Finn said.
“About…When I was in there, I kind of lost track of time.”
“What do you mean?” Philby asked.
“I mean I lost track of time. I spaced out or something. This girl was standing behind me asking if I was all right.”
“Because?”
“Because, according to her, I was just standing there staring into the mirror. Not moving or anything. She said it was…‘awkward,’ was her exact word. But how could you possibly know that?”
“And the girl,” Philby said, “the one in the bathroom. Had you thought about her before just now? Before we started asking questions?”
Charlene shook her head. “What’s going on?”
“We can explain later,” Finn said.
“You’ll explain now,” she demanded.
“Later,” Finn repeated.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.” She crossed her arms tightly.
Philby was not pleased. He said, “We think the Evil Queen may have enchanted you…”
“To spy on us—the Keepers,” Finn said.
“That she crossed you over tonight—because I definitely did not,” Philby added.
“That the CTDs are out there looking fo
r you,” Finn said.
“That we’ve got to get to the Return and get you out of here.”
Stunned, Charlene took a moment to process everything. “You’ll explain it all later.”
“Yes,” Finn said.
“I kissed you to break the spell,” Philby explained. “It apparently worked. You remember stuff you didn’t remember before.”
“Why?” Charlene gasped. “Why me? What does she want?”
“If we’re right about them trying to break Maleficent out of jail, then who knows what they want? Who knows what they think we have? But we can’t get caught. We’re not going to let her get you again.”
“I want to go home,” Charlene said.
“Makes three of us,” said Finn.
“We can’t take the axes with us,” Philby said. “They won’t Return with us. And to leave them lying around the plaza would just tell somebody that we’d been here. We don’t need to leave clues like that.”
“How about leaving seven trolls locked up in the cottage?”
“That’s their problem,” Philby said.
They leaned Philby’s ax and Finn’s sword against the rock as they’d found them. Then they hurried to the cave entrance and climbed down the dry waterfall. They stayed in shadow, using trash cans, kiosks, trees, and anything else available to hide behind. They passed Mexico and followed a perimeter route that took them near Test Track. A hundred yards from the plaza fountain, Philby stopped.
“Slower now,” Philby said, taking a moment to catch his breath. “Extra careful.”
They circled around the fountain, finally reaching the pin-trading station. A small, circular, one-story building, it held a large display screen that, when operating, informed guests of wait times for the various attractions. There was only one Return, one black fob capable of wirelessly connecting to the server and canceling the DHI projection. Finn had once asked Wayne for more of the devices—one for each Park—but Wayne had steadfastly refused, explaining that the act of Returning was the most dangerous part of the program. If two Returns were engaged within a few seconds of each other, they would theoretically cancel each other out, and the Imagineers had no idea where that would leave the DHIs—nor the kids who lay asleep in bed. If trapped between the two “worlds,” the results could be devastating. The system would tolerate only one fob, one Return.
The Keepers were currently hiding the all-important fob in Epcot, in an intersection of purple pipes that supported the roof of the pin-trading post on the plaza. The pipes came together about head height, connecting with a single support column that rose up from the plaza. Where the pipes joined was a hidden space just big enough for the Return.
Finn reached up, his fingers searching blindly, and came down with it—a black rubber remote like a car door opener.
“Ready?” he asked.
Charlene nodded and reached for Finn’s hand. Philby took her other hand, connecting them all. For the Return to work effectively, they had to stand near each other. Physical contact—like holding hands—worked even better.
“We’ll text in the morning,” Philby said, “and figure all this stuff out. Like what to do next. Like if there’s some way to stop them from crossing us over.”
“Like, why they chose me,” Charlene said.
Finn stretched on his tiptoes holding the Return over the junction of pipes. As they crossed back, the Return would fall from his fingers, lodging in its hiding place. They would need to know where to find it the next time they crossed over.
With the three of them all holding hands, Finn counted down, “Three…two…”
He pushed the button.
BEING BACK AT SCHOOL was a major letdown. A regular part of almost every day, it was still the forgettable part; his time as a Keeper dominated Finn’s thoughts. The one bright spot in the school day was, of all things, lunch. Not that the food was edible. It was not. But lunchtime was Finn’s chance to hang with Amanda.
He stopped in the boys’ room to make sure he didn’t have something stuck in his teeth, or a booger lodged up his nose.
When his eyes shifted focus in the mirror, he saw Greg Luowski standing behind him.
“Hey, Greg.” Finn was mindful of the Security photograph showing the Evil Queen talking to Luowski and three other kids. He was a bundle of nerves, especially because Luowski didn’t say anything.
There was something different about Luowski’s sneer. Maybe it was seeing his ugly mug reversed by the mirror. Maybe it was his piggish eyes, or greasy skin. Or maybe it was just Luowski trying so hard to look menacing. It was working. If they’d given grades for imparting terror, Luowski would have gotten an A.
Finn cupped his hands beneath the faucet, filled his mouth with water, and swished it around in his teeth to get rid of any cereal that might be lingering from breakfast. He did this in part to pretend that Luowski’s presence didn’t concern him, in part because his hands were shaking and he didn’t want Luowski to see the effect he could have over him. When Finn stood up and looked in the mirror, Luowski was gone. The door to the boys’ room hissed shut and Finn let out a sigh of relief. But he also wondered why Luowski had passed up the opportunity to bully him. The silent treatment was not Lousy Luowski’s style.
Finn looked around to see if a teacher had entered; looked for some explanation. As far as he could tell, he was alone. He tried to let it go, to forget about it, but Luowski had gotten under his skin. He felt slightly sick, edgy, jumpy. His skin was crawling.
Amanda was sitting off by herself in the lunch room, a hopeful look in her eyes, which brightened as she spotted him. Her tray held salad, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of water. The lettuce was mostly white, not green; the fruit, canned. Even the water looked gray through the scratched plastic cup. He arrived with a yellowish mass on his plate that had been labeled creamed chicken and rice. With enough salt, it could be swallowed.
“Have you seen Greg-the-Gross?” he asked.
“Yes, you may join me,” she said, ignoring his question completely.
“Lousy Luowski,” he said.
“I’d be happy to have you.”
Finn sat across from her. He stabbed at the yellow mound. “It lives,” he said, putting his fork beneath the mass and causing it to wiggle.
She laughed. “In the hall earlier,” she said, finally answering him. “His usual oafish self.”
She looked pretty today, like every other day.
“Did he look…different?”
“A few more zits?” she asked. “A few less brain cells?”
Some creamed chicken and rice caught in Finn’s throat. He washed it down with warm milk.
She stabbed her fruit. The consistency of rubber, it resisted her fork, like she was trying to stab an eraser. “I’m not exactly a fan,” she said. “I don’t usually pay attention to him.”
She had trouble chewing her fruit. She said, “But did you happen to notice Sally Ringwald’s new contacts?”
“Might have missed that.” He sat up taller and listened carefully: Sally Ringwald had been one of the kids with the Queen in DisneyQuest.
“Pigmented. You know? Green. You can’t believe the difference. She’s much prettier now. Kind of Irish-looking.”
“One of my mom’s friends wears the blue ones. It’s really disturbing. It’s like I’m not supposed to notice or something. I’m supposed to pretend her eyes always looked like that. As if!” He paused. “Don’t ever do anything like that, okay? Don’t go changing yourself like that.”
She blushed and returned to stabbing her fruit. Or trying to.
“Where did that come from?” he said.
“I don’t mind.”
In a desperate effort to change subjects, he blurted out, “Philby and I crossed over into Epcot last night to rescue Charlene.”
“Rescue?”
“To help her Return.”
“Did she ask you to?”
“No. It’s just that Philby…he hadn’t arranged for her to cross over in the fi
rst place.”
“So you’re the DHI police now? Is that it?”
“Ouch.”
“She can’t cross over without Philby’s permission? What about Wayne? Or maybe the Imagineers? What if they crossed her over?”
“It…” He didn’t have a great answer for that. “As it turned out, it was a good thing we went in after her. We ended up battling some trolls. The CTDs were out everywhere—probably looking for her.”
“Probably,” she said, stinging him.
Should he tell her?
“You can tell me,” she said.
How come girls could read his thoughts like that? He never had a clue what a girl was thinking.
“We think she was under a spell.” He lowered his voice. “The Evil Queen.”
“Seriously?”
He reached into his back pocket—he only changed his pants about every four days—and passed her the time-stamped photograph of Charlene and the Evil Queen entering the DisneyQuest washroom.
He said, “There were two photographs last night. The one of the Queen with Luowski and Sally Ringwald, and this one. Notice the times.”
“You kept this one from us?” She sounded upset.
“We kept it from Charlene, yeah.”
Finn ate some more of the yellowish mush, but bit down on gristle and pushed his tray aside. He said, “She has no memory of the Queen being in the girls’ room with her.”
Amanda’s concern carved lines across her face.
“Maybe the plan,” Finn said, “is to cross one of us over each night until we’re all stuck in the Syndrome. That would get us out of the way.”
“If that ever happened,” she said, “Jess and I would cross over and come find you. The OTs can’t possibly know that you made it so we can be DHIs.”
He spotted Sally Ringwald across the cafeteria. She was too far away for him to see her green contacts, but it prompted him to reconsider his encounter with Luowski.
“What if they were green?” he said.
“What if what were green?”
“Luowski.”
“What about him?”
“His eyes. Contact lenses,” he said. “What if Luowski looked different to me because eyes were green?”
“That’s ridiculous. Greg Luowski has boring eyes,” she said. “Hazel. Red hair, hazel eyes.”
Kingdom Keepers IV (9781423152521) Page 7
