More group thanks and Amanda’s tears fill the next minute. Through the waterfall, Maybeck sees the Musket Man charging down the hill.
“This guy must think we’re bandits or something. He seems determined to shoot us.”
“Let’s go!” Finn shouts, his voice echoing through the canal tunnel. “This way?” He points up a set of narrow stairs cut into the tunnel wall.
“Yes,” Jess says. “This way.”
She takes the lead. Finn follows. Close on his heels is Amanda; she and Finn are awkwardly holding hands. Maybeck is last, marveling at how effortlessly Jess takes control, how Finn doesn’t challenge her, how tempted he was to assert himself and claim the lead for himself. How all of this is so confusing. Maybeck wants another turn, another chance as ringleader, is sorry he relinquished it so soon. Opportunity is so temporal, he thinks.
A shot rings out.
“Pick it up,” Maybeck says. “Move! I think I’ve been shot.”
Amanda rises to the occasion, overcoming her grief and joy at Finn’s return to take a stand and challenge the Musket Man. As she drops out of their line, squatting, Finn turns. “Go on!” she cries. “Let me do this!”
Finn hesitates. Maybeck reaches him and pushes him up the stairs, getting him running again.
Amanda stays behind, her knees not entirely stable beneath her, her eyes blurred by drying tears. She has regained some of the strength she lost with the earlier push, but by no means all—the process always leaves her drained for a while. She’s counting in part on the trail of water shed by their DHIs, which has left the stairs slick and precarious. She’s also counting on surprising Musket Man and catching him in midstride, and counting on whatever force it is beyond the hologram projectors that make this all possible, that make it happen. Something bigger and unexplainable. She summons it, the way she assumes all Fairlies do.
The top of Musket Man’s Bavarian hat appears. The guy must have been a caretaker or innkeeper in Alice’s village. What’s he doing here? Amanda holds her breath, pulls in her arms, and shoves. Musket Man is struck by an invisible force, skids across the slick stair tread and, dropping his musket, flies off and falls into the canal. Amanda races up the stairs. Her last image of the man is of him swimming for shore.
He’s the evil Bavarian Energizer Bunny: he just won’t quit.
* * *
The stairs rise steeply. It’s too dark inside the long, cavelike stairway to see Musket Man fall, but the splash is heavy enough to signal that it’s not Amanda’s DHI going down. In the lead, Jess carries the burden of possible failure in her every step. Philby and the Keepers have gone to great lengths to follow her simple sketch of a magic lantern with its spout facing to the right. What if her dream was a mirror image? Or what if she was simply having an “Aladdin dream”—imagining herself as a character in the movie? It wouldn’t be the first time. There’s no way she’s full DHI: her thighs are killing her. They must have climbed several hundred steps by now. Whoever built this stairway made it more of a ladder. Endless. Straight up.
“Terry!” she calls back, his name echoing throughout the cave. “Are you okay?”
“Define ‘okay,’” Maybeck responds. And she grins. Jess knows better than to make waves—and she doesn’t want to challenge Charlene—but she’s recently come to like Terry in ways that go beyond casual friendship, ways she doesn’t fully understand and is afraid of. She and Amanda are with the Keepers for a reason. She must not allow anything to get in the way of that; Amanda’s open feelings for Finn already pose a challenge for their mission.
“Your leg?” she calls back.
“I believe I am now a hole-y man, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“We can stop,” Finn says.
Finn always seems to think of others, Jess thinks. It comes so naturally to him. She and Amanda have discussed how, of all the Keepers, Finn seems different—not better, but like a different species, as if Wayne had planned for him all along, and the Keepers would not exist without him.
She has so many questions yet to answer. As the world of the Keepers seems to be building to a make-it-or-break-it moment, Jess knows their survival is at stake, their lives. Something horrible is coming. Her dreams show her flickers of it: flames, chaos, ruin. Death. There are sketches she has not dared show even Amanda.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Jess sees it: the brass lamp sitting on a pedestal where the stairs terminate.
Finn and Maybeck arrive. Maybeck’s calf is bleeding real blood, meaning he is not now, nor will be, pure projection any time soon. Finn drops to one knee to examine Maybeck’s wound.
Maybeck says, “It’s a through-and-through.”
“Meaning?” Jess asks.
“The bullet didn’t lodge,” Finn says. “In one side and out the other.”
“No bones were hit,” Maybeck says. “I can walk.”
“That’s your DHI speaking. It will be worse when you return. We don’t experience pain as fully when we are crossed over. You know that!” Finn studies the wound more closely. “It caught the edge of your leg. The wound is two inches deep. We can’t mess around here. It needs tending.”
“You’re the designated worrier, Finn. It’s barely bleeding at all. Rub the lamp. We’ll deal with me soon enough.”
One of the big problems with the boy Keepers is their heroism, Jess thinks. What makes them great is also their weakness. Maybeck would sooner bleed to death than admit he needs help.
Amanda reaches them panting, out of breath. “I…he went in the water…but I think I only delayed him.”
Only now does she notice Maybeck’s wound. For a moment, there is much discussion. Then Jess says, “Enough!” silencing them. She’s so worried that she has brought them all here for nothing, that she is responsible for Maybeck’s wound, for the risks they’ve taken.
Finn stands, facing the lamp. “I guess this is it.”
A voice pleads inside Finn, raw and aching as hunger: Save Wayne! He twists and turns internally, wanting so badly to use his wish to this end. He doesn’t open himself up to the possibility that the lamp won’t work; if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Instead, he focuses on what to ask of it, believing his wish might actually be granted. Selfishness needles him: he could wish for personal wealth, for Amanda to be in love with him for life—but these aims are counterbalanced by his being a Keeper. He has no idea if a personal wish would be granted, yet he knows intuitively that if his wish is correct, if it is selfless and for the good of all, it stands the best chance.
Wishing for Wayne is too small. Wayne himself would forbid it. So what to ask? Is Maleficent actually dead? Can Dillard be brought back to life? Is the battle of all battles about to take place? The wish can’t be too specific, and it will fail if it’s too general.
The others are practically holding their breath, waiting for him to do something.
Amanda peers over the edge of the top step. “That guy’s coming. He’s pulled himself out of the water.”
“His musket?” Maybeck asks. “Tell me you threw it into the water, too.”
“I…ah…well…”
“Got it,” Maybeck says.
“I think we should hold hands,” Finn says. “What happens to me happens to all of us.”
“What wish are you asking for?” Maybeck inquires.
“I’m not going to speak it aloud.” Finn extends his left hand. Amanda accepts it. She takes Jess’s. Jess reaches out for Maybeck.
“This could be really stupid,” Maybeck says to the girls. His humor is lost on them.
A musket shot rings out. The Bavarian is firing up the flight of stairs. Given the confines of the cave, the shot sounds like a bomb going off. The bullet ricochets all over the place; overhead the plaster explodes, chips flying everywhere, leaving a white gash exposed by the musket ball. Dust floats down onto the lamp and Finn.
“Push him,” Maybeck orders Amanda.
“I need a minute. Maybe more. Besides, he’s too far away.”
“I’m going to do this,” Finn says.
He closes his eyes. Focuses. His right hand blindly finds the lamp, and he rubs in gentle circles. His lips move silently. He squints: Nothing. He closes his eyes, continues reciting his wish in his mind like a mantra. He feels heat coming from the lamp. A low tone, like a hum. He squints again: steam or smoke, maybe both, emerge from the spout. The gas collects rather than dissipates. Forms into three circles of differing size. Inside the cloud an image appears.
Jess gasps. “I dreamed that, too!” she says.
Within the lamp’s swirling steam and smoke appears a row of tall columns and reddish stone walls that immediately identify themselves as the decor at the entrance line for Indiana Jones Adventure: Temple of the Forbidden Eye.
The steam and smoke disperse.
“We’re still here,” Finn says.
“You were expecting something else?” Maybeck says. “What did you wish for, anyway?”
“Get down! I’ve got this!” Jess shouts, winning the others’ attention. The soaking wet Bavarian presents himself, brandishing his musket, then raising the gun stock to his shoulder. He’s too close to miss.
The others drop. Jess remains upright. She marches calmly straight toward the man and right up to him, halting only a few feet away from the barrel of his musket. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Witches! Sorcerers!” the man shouts, lowering one eye to the gun sight.
Amanda draws a breath, about to call out. Finn squeezes the hand he’s already holding, stopping her.
“My friends and I—” Jess begins calmly.
The musket fires, the bullet passing directly into Jess’s chest and out the other side, then ricocheting off the wall. She never breaks stride.
“—are neither witches nor sorcerers. We are—goblins of good, sent to save the kingdom from those of whom you speak.”
“I…shot…” Musket Man says, in a thick Bavarian accent. He looks to be on the verge of fainting.
“No harm can come to us,” Jess says. The Keepers exchange a knowing glance; Jess managed to remain pure DHI, and the musket ball passed through her without injury.
Finn is in awe. Until this moment, he believed that only he possessed such absolute courage under fire. It cannot have been easy looking down that barrel; he’s not sure he could have managed it. Finn wonders once again about the origin of the Fairlies, marveling at the “coincidence” of their arrival in the lives of the Keepers, and the powers they clearly possess.
“We intend you no harm,” Jess says. “You would do us a great favor by putting aside your firearm and your animosity toward us and going back to your village—to all the villages of Storybook Land. You must spread the word that the time for an uprising has come. We goblins of good have been sent to drive back the wolves and restore order, but we cannot do it alone.”
Musket Man sniffs the flintlock on his gun. He seems satisfied that the powder ignited. He studies the thing as if it’s foreign to him, as if someone has just dropped it into his hands. He looks at Jess, then back at the musket. He steps close to her, stabs the gun at her but, making no contact, gasps and withdraws it from her abdomen.
He garbles a confused sentence in a thick Bavarian rural dialect.
Jess grabs the musket, pulls it from the man’s grip without effort, and tosses it down the staircase. Musket Man’s eyes follow his prized possession as it clatters down the stone steps. There is a loud splash.
The Bavarian turns and races down the stairs, stumbling and slipping. He regains his balance and continues running until the sound of splashing in the distant waterfall signals his departure.
“We’d better get going,” Jess says, addressing her friends. “He won’t believe me yet. He’ll call for a militia. Our best bet is to leave quickly.”
Finn is the first to stand. He moves toward Jess reverentially, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. He then does the same to Amanda.
“Who are you?” he asks them.
* * *
Back outdoors, the Keepers don’t see Pumbaa anywhere.
“We need to get to Indiana Jones. And fast!” Finn says.
“‘We’re always good for a laugh,’” Amanda says. “Remember?”
“Yeah? So?”
“So we need to laugh,” Jess says.
First Amanda, then Jess, and then the two boys begin faking laughter. Louder. Louder still.
Pumbaa and Timon come racing around a corner, also in hysterics.
“Only in Disneyland,” Finn mumbles. He makes eye contact with Amanda, and there’s an unspoken thank-you in his gaze. She nods. Her smile is wide, her eyes knowing.
The wacky warthog carries them to the entrance of the Indiana Jones attraction. They slide off his back and down his tail like experts.
“Will you wait for us, please?” Finn says.
“I’m waits for no man!” Pumbaa says.
“It’s not ‘I’m,’ it’s time!” Timon says, correcting his friend.
“Time for what?” Pumbaa says, laughing hysterically at his own joke.
Timon slaps him. “We will wait,” he says. The two trundle off, Pumbaa still chuckling.
“What did you wish for?” Maybeck asks Finn again. The group is a few yards into the vacant queue, making time.
“I’m afraid I’ll jinx it by telling you.”
Philby must have tracked their DHIs moving across the park, projector to projector, because all at once the world spins and they all lose their balance and fall. When they stand up, they are full size again. They won’t be using Pumbaa again.
“Philby really should warn us,” Maybeck says, holding his bleeding leg.
“Finn, you won’t jinx anything by telling us,” says Amanda, with uncharacteristic harshness. “The lamp told us to come here. Why?”
Finn sighs. The group collects around him. “My wish was to learn how we could stop the OTs once and for all.”
For a moment, no one moves or breathes.
“Well,” Maybeck says, “at least it wasn’t anything big.”
“Why here?” Jess says. “My dream…I don’t remember.…Not this place. Not exactly.”
“And yet,” Finn says, “here we are.”
“‘Once and for all,’” Maybeck says, quoting Finn, his sarcasm replaced by hopefulness.
“How amazing would that be?” Amanda says dreamily.
“Will be,” Finn says.
“Of course,” she says. “That’s what I meant.”
They pass a cordoned-off generator marked HIGH VOLTAGE. A cooking area. A small temple; two large gold cobras guard the stairs. Finn pauses below a stone lintel carved with an all-seeing eye and hieroglyphics.
“Suppose this is trying to warn us?” He points to his eyes, indicating that the others should remain vigilant, and silences them again with a finger pressed to his closed lips.
The seriousness of their purpose hangs in the air; it’s not as if the Overtakers are going to let them walk in and end the conflict once and for all. It’s never been that easy. It never will be.
Contradicting himself, Finn speaks softly. “‘Beware the eye of Mara.’ Translation: maybe we’re being watched. Subtitle: we’re outnumbered. Let’s make this a reconnaissance mission. If anything goes wrong we meet up at the Plaza. Stay clear. Stay safe.”
“Nice. I like it,” Maybeck says.
Amanda speaks. Her voice sounds distant, trancelike. “Mara’s a goddess said to grant the seeker riches, eternal youth, or…”
“Or what?” Maybeck asks when she fails to complete her thought.
“Visions of the future.”
All eyes turn to Jess.
Finn speaks first. “Maybe this isn’t the place we defeat them. It’s the place you see how we defeat them.” Jess shrugs. Finn can see in her eyes that she does not want this burden placed on her.
“Maybe it’s not visions of the future. But granting eternal youth isn’t necessarily any better,” Jess says. “Death is eter
nal. And we are young—as in ‘youth.’”
“It could mean SBS,” Amanda cautions.
“There’s a cheery thought,” Maybeck quips.
“Are we sure we should do this?” Amanda says.
“We’re never sure of anything,” Maybeck says. “We never got around to writing that Keepers handbook we always talk about.…”
The deeper they move down the narrow red-rock throat of the queue, the creepier it gets. Sound echoes, causing the Keepers to jump. As they reach a small circular room with an artifact at its center, Finn turns to Jess and mimes writing: she should take notes. He points to the artifact—a pyramid-shaped stone with animal forms chiseled into its sides—and to the oversized pale blocks of stone that make up the curving walls, some of them also incised with scattered hieroglyphs.
More hallway, more carvings, more hieroglyphs. They round a corner and moonlight streams in from overhead. The area opens up. Rustling stalks of tall bamboo serve as a wall to control the would-be lines.
“We’re in too deep for a quick retreat,” Maybeck says.
Finn nods, a feeling of dread overtaking him.
The ceiling gives way to stalactites that take Maybeck back to the island of Aruba and a near-death encounter with the Overtakers. The walls appear increasingly molten, like cold lava, flowing stone frozen in an instant.
The shapes remind Finn of animal horns and skeletons. He and the others pass a giant millstone upended on its edge, seemingly ready to roll or tumble.
“Remember,” Maybeck says, breaking the silence, “Indy had to avoid all sorts of traps and tricks meant to kill him. We’re in here after dark, after closing. There’s no telling what we might encounter.”
“How reassuring,” Amanda says.
Finn shoots a look at Amanda. Her face is white.
“Sheesh!” Maybeck says. “Freaky.”
The ceiling opens up to vines and a rickety-looking bamboo ladder hanging from a platform. The lighting is dim and casts confusing shadows. The room grows even wider. The path meanders.
Kingdom Keepers VII Page 17