Finn drove his heel into the arch of the pirate’s right foot. He felt something give. The pirate let go of him, cried out in pain, and fell like a tree against the pirate next to him, who released Storey to catch his friend.
Philby, Finn decided, without a second thought. The power outage had been Philby’s doing.
In the crush of terrified kids, Finn led Storey into the dead-end area, against traffic. He pulled the couch away from the wall and climbed behind, helping Storey in there with him.
“What are you doing?” she asked above the roar of the chaos.
“They’ll look for us out there,” he said, pulling the couch in tightly against them. He typed a text on the Wave Phone.
thnx. hiding behind couch in alcove
A moment later a text was returned.
no prob. i c u. nice move. so far, no worries. tell SM hi 4 me
“Philby says hi,” he told her.
She looked frightened.
“If you’re going to train to take my place,” Finn said, “you’re going to have to get used to this stuff.”
“Shut! Up!” She paused. “Tell him hi back.”
“I will not. You think I share, or something?”
It won a smile from her. She had bright white teeth.
* * *
The question of whom Maybeck had cornered turned out to be a what, not a whom. The hyenas. He wasn’t exactly sure why it was working, only that it must have something to do with Disney. When you were a Keeper, it turned out everything had to do with Disney.
The truth was, he hadn’t thought about it. It was not some brilliant plan the way Philby and Willa hatched brilliant plans. It was not some insanely creative solution the way Finn came up with them. Confronted by two drooling hyenas, both the size of a Great Dane and the demeanor of a pit bull, he’d just grabbed for the object nearest to him, which turned out to be a papier-mâché lion’s head, a prop from one of the live stage shows. And not just any lion’s head—Scar’s head.
Seeing this, the hyenas cowered into a corner, sat back on their haunches, and looked away, the way a dog does when scolded by his master. They went from vicious, blood-seeking, four-legged killers to simpering, whimpering mutts that looked as dangerous as a pair of gerbils.
But if Maybeck moved the head to the wrong angle, their necks snapped around, their eyes popped out of their heads, and they appeared ready to tear a chunk of flesh from him the size of a holiday ham. So he kept the mask extended, arms tiring, wondering, “What now?”
“Psst! How’s it going?” Amanda called to him. He had rescued her and Jess, believing at the time that at least one of the girls he saw was Charlene.
“It’s a bit of a stalemate,” Maybeck answered. “If I take a step back, they take a step forward. I’ve held them here since you left. But the slightest movement, and I get the feeling I’m going to be puppy chow. Factor into the equation,”—an expression he’d heard Philby use repeatedly, and one he thought sounded particularly smart—“that my arms are tiring…I’m not saying I’m weak, but this mask is huge and it’s heavy…”
“What do you want us to do?” Jess asked.
“I think you should get out of here,” he said.
“Seriously, Maybeck,” Charlene said, “what are the odds of me leaving you here?”
“I could drop it and run, but my guess is they’re about five times faster than any of us.”
An amber light on the wall behind the hyenas flashed.
“It’s Philby,” Charlene said.
“Freeze! And don’t say a word!” Jess whispered harshly, having nearly forgotten what had led her and Amanda down the stairs to begin with. The Evil Queen and Cruella were headed to the lower-level staging area and the crate. She’d seen it in a dream, along with Charlene being down there at the time of their arrival.
The kids remained absolutely still. The clip-clop of a woman’s heels percussed across the darkened stage. The two grown women stopped only yards from the three girls.
“Happy? Howly?” Cruella called out. Then again. “Come here, my little laughers!” A pause. “Boys?” Another pause. “Well, that’s as odd as a one-eyed parrot. I left them here to patrol.”
“So maybe they’re off patrolling,” said the Evil Queen, impatient with her partner. “What is the problem?”
“The problem is I left them here, and those boys obey.”
“You think every animal dances to your tune, including most people. Well, not this person.”
“You are hardly a person!” Cruella complained.
“Shush! Let’s make sure our guest is comfortable. You can work your magic on him, my dear.”
“That’s the idea,” said Cruella.
“I wouldn’t get too cocky, if I were you. He’s no hound, as you’ll soon find out. How are you with bats, anyway?”
“While I adore most nocturnals, the winged variety find little support from me. Though I’m loath to admit it, I find them frightening.”
“Well, at least we have something in common! You live in the woods or drafty old castles, you come to tolerate the things, but accepting them is different. If left up to me I’d banish them for eternity!”
“You can do that, can’t you? I envy you, Queeny. How I wish I could conjure. Could you teach me?”
“Shut it, will you? Are you quite done blowing your dog whistle? I’d like to get on with it.”
“At your disposal.”
The two trundled off in the direction of the staircase and descended.
When the witch and the woman were well gone, Amanda, looking up, said softly, “I have an idea.”
“Let’s hear it,” Jess said.
“You’re a climber, aren’t you?” she asked Charlene.
You know I am, Charlene felt like saying, but she held her tongue. She knew Amanda had a thing for Finn, knew Finn had a thing for Amanda, and knew that Finn found it easy to flirt with her and that the flirting drove Amanda crazy. There were few secrets among the Keepers. Everyone had known that Charlene had had a crush on Finn for quite some time. But it was over now, and Amanda didn’t need to pretend they barely knew each other.
“Yes,” she said. “Sure am.”
“If you climb up there,” Amanda asked, pointing into the staging overhead, “would you be able to jump or get down really fast somehow?”
“I could probably work something out. Why?”
“You see that curtain?” she said.
Charlene followed her gaze. She did see the massive curtain, and she intuited what Amanda had in mind just by looking.
“It just might work,” Charlene said.
“What might work?” Jess said. “Did I miss something?”
“I’m with Jess,” Maybeck hissed.
Charlene crossed to the wall and scampered up the rigging like a sailor up a mast. She moved from one stage rope to another, shinnied up a pipe, swung from a cable, and arrived quickly to the support bar that held the stage curtain.
“Terry,” Amanda said, “you’re going to need to back up about ten more feet.”
“I don’t love that idea.”
“Noted,” said Charlene from the rafters.
Maybeck stepped back and the two hyenas, Howly and Happy, scooted forward on their behinds, still wary of the giant lion mask. A few more feet of retreat, and the hyenas advanced an equal distance.
“Nearly there,” Amanda said. “Charlene?”
“Ready.”
“Are you sure you can get down fast enough?”
“Five more feet,” Charlene said from up above. “When I reach three, the mask needs to be on the floor facing them. You don’t want to spook them—”
“You think?”
“—so just put it down and back up slowly. Got it?”
“And then?” Jess asked.
“And then we run past the stairway and into the corridor and we get the heck out of here,” Amanda said. “You and Maybeck first. I’m waiting for Charlene.”
“No need to do t
hat,” Charlene complained.
“Not open for discussion,” Amanda said, asserting herself.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Charlene said. “Everybody ready?”
They each acknowledged.
“Then here we go. One…”
Maybeck began lowering the mask. As he did, the two wild-eyed hyenas fixed on him like heat-seeking missiles.
“Two…”
The large mask touched the stage floor. Maybeck backed up first one step, then two. The hyenas inched forward, but could not bring themselves to challenge Scar.
“Three!”
Maybeck turned and ran as the whine of rope paying out joined the release of the curtain, the giant wall of fabric falling as a wave of ruby-colored smoke and covering the hyenas like a magician’s handkerchief.
Charlene came down a nearby rope like a spider laying its thread, joined Amanda an instant later, and the two held hands as they ran from the stage, quick on the heels of their friends.
“It’s him. Chernabog,” Philby said.
There were eight of them in all. The five Keepers, Jess and Amanda, and Storey Ming. They occupied a corner of the Deck 11 concierge lounge, access to the lounge compliments of their luxury staterooms. A warm, inviting space, with a rich, colorful carpet and wood-paneled walls, there were desserts, cheese, and grapes available along the far wall by an espresso maker, fresh juice, and pitchers of ice water.
For the most part they were left alone, the concierge at the desk having left to run some errand shortly after they’d arrived. If they heard the door open, they changed subjects to something mundane and teenlike. Taylor Swift’s new romance. The U.S. Olympic soccer team.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Willa said. She could hold her own with Philby.
“The Evil Queen mentioned bats,” Philby reminded her. “We know, thanks to Mr. E.’s class, that if you combine a bat’s face with the Minotaur you get something freakily similar to Chernabog. And then there’s the bar.”
“What bar?” Finn asked.
“The bar Charlie described. The structural support at the top of the crate.”
“It was some bolts!” Maybeck complained.
“It was four bolts on opposite sides of the top of the crate. What do you want to bet they’re holding a steel bar in place?”
“Because?” Charlene asked, almost afraid to open her mouth in this group.
“It’s easy,” Storey Ming said, drawing the attention of everyone. Especially Philby. Philby’s heightened interest drew the scrutiny of Willa. “The patches of stuff covering the holes make the crate dark inside while still supplying air.”
“Exactly,” Philby said.
“If Chernabog’s part bat—”
“A Mayan bat god,” Philby said.
“The rod is so he can hang upside down while he sleeps. Dark like a cave.”
A stunned silence swept over the collective.
“It’s Chernabog,” Philby said.
“But…why?” Willa said.
“That’s what we need to figure out,” Finn said. “It all comes back to the stolen journal.”
“A ritual,” Charlene said.
“And a ceremony,” Willa added.
“We are way in the deep stuff,” Maybeck said. “I’m not talking knee deep, I’m talking neck deep.”
“That’s gross,” Amanda said.
“Disgusting,” Charlene agreed. The two exchanged a thoughtful look. Both grinned.
“And you’re here because?” Willa asked, turning to Jess and Amanda.
“Wanda Alcott wanted us available. Warned us we might cross over when we went to sleep at night. Jess had this dream—”
“About Charlie getting caught by the Evil Queen and Cruella,” Jess said. “Other stuff too, but I haven’t put it together.”
“The link I installed,” Philby said to the others. “I thought Wayne wanted it installed so we could help out at Base. Looks like he wanted to use it as an uplink, going the other direction.”
“We need to return at some point,” Jess said. “Mrs. Nash will check the rooms around six. We need to get some sleep before then.”
It had been a long night, already past one.
“I can return you,” Philby offered.
“We have the autographing tomorrow,” Finn reminded them. “Walt Disney Theatre. It might give us another chance to check out the crate.”
“That sounds risky,” Storey said.
“Not if we make it look like one of us just wandered off in the wrong direction looking for a bathroom.”
“That could work,” Willa agreed.
“Unless Howly and Happy are out for a walk,” Maybeck said.
“Not during the day,” Charlene said.
“I know that,” Maybeck said. “I was making a joke.”
“Ha ha,” Willa said.
“We need to decipher the journal,” Finn said. “And locate the OT server. I’d love—love, love, love—to lock fat face in the Syndrome for a couple of days.”
“Like forever,” Maybeck joined in.
“We’re talking about Luowski, I take it,” Professor Philby said.
Everyone laughed.
“Have you considered he’s more valuable to us as a captive?” Philby said. “If we could find his lair while he’s crossed over and be there when he returns…”
“We don’t kidnap people,” Willa objected.
“Who said anything about kidnapping? We just play a game of twenty questions with him when he wakes up from the return.”
“With a couple of us holding him down,” Maybeck said, clearly approving of the plan.
“The entire crew has been searching for the stowaways for over a day now,” Storey Ming said. “I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but they know the hiding places on the ship a lot better than any of you—or I.”
“True enough,” Philby said. “But we have technologies they lack.”
“Such as?” she asked.
“Maybe later,” he answered, not fully trusting her.
“Not yet,” Finn told her, using the same phrase she’d used on him.
Amanda caught the exchange between the two and studied them disapprovingly.
“How many days at sea?” she asked.
“Two,” Philby answered. “Two sea days and then Aruba.”
“They could have brought Chernabog on at any of the ports,” Amanda said, “so why now?”
She silenced them once again.
A sleepy-eyed guest entered wearing a robe and slippers. He poured himself a glass of milk from a half fridge, drank it down, and left. He gave no indication he’d seen eight kids in the corner. The door thumped shut.
“Why indeed?” Willa said.
“They waited until Castaway,” Maybeck said, “because the Canaveral port is probably too well managed. I’ll bet someone knows exactly what and who gets on the ship. Security especially.”
“Agreed,” said Philby.
“Castaway offers a way around that,” Maybeck said. “It’s different than Aruba, the canal, Costa Rica—any of the other stops.”
“But why bring him aboard at all?” Amanda asked.
“It’s got to have something to do with what’s in the journal,” Finn said.
“You’re going around in circles,” Storey Ming said.
“It’s late,” Charlene said. “We need sleep. We need to keep our heads clear.”
“We’re two days in. Thirteen to go,” Willa said.
“Just hearing that makes me tired,” Philby said.
“It gets worse,” Storey said, winning their attention. “Not all of you attended the Beach Blanket Barbecue opening. I don’t know for sure what kind of contract you have with the line—if any—but if that were other Cast Members, there would be discipline. Privileges taken away. Certain areas set off limits. I’m not saying that’s going to happen to you, but I’d kind of be surprised if it didn’t.”
“Oh, perfect,” Maybeck said. “That’s all we need!”
<
br /> “Hey,” Storey said, “I don’t make up the rules. I’m just warning you something like that might happen.”
“Can I share something?” Philby asked. “When I was monitoring the security camera recordings I just happened to take a peek at the daily log—”
“Just happened, I’ll bet,” said Maybeck.
“The last entry…second to last, if you count the alert I caused to get the guy out of there…this was at ten twenty-two, so after the all-aboard and once we were already sailing…it read: ‘VQ sighting.’ The note in the comments box read something about checking with shipboard entertainment that VQ was ‘authorized.’”
“Authorized?” Storey questioned.
“Yes. That specific word. Do you know what it means?”
“Authorized?” she repeated. She whistled. Without thinking, they all leaned a little closer to her. “Just after we sailed from Canaveral we had a freak shipboard occurrence. A double Mickey sighting.” She went on to explain the term and the crew’s failure to turn up the imposter mouse. “Asking Entertainment if a character is authorized means checking to make sure the character belongs on the ship. Because you guys are on here, all sorts of extra characters have been added, including Maleficent, crash-test dummies, court jesters…all your so-called enemies.”
“How can you be sure it’s a character?” Philby said.
“For one thing, because he’s checking if it’s authorized. That’s the only thing that makes sense if he’s calling Entertainment. And of course the initials themselves. ‘Captain M.’ ‘MM’ for Minnie, ‘C and D’ for Chip and Dale—a ton of the character names are abbreviated by Cast Members. Some are referred to by their initials. Like JS for Jack Sparrow.”
“But VQ?” Charlene asked. “Who’s that?”
It wasn’t Storey who answered; it was Philby.
“They’ve abbreviated her nickname,” he said. “Voodoo Queen.”
“Tia Dalma’s on board the ship,” Finn said. “And I’m guessing she’s unauthorized.”
* * *
“So please join me in welcoming Disney’s very own Disney Hosts Interactive!” The ship’s director of entertainment, Christian, dressed in his crisp dress whites, gestured across the Walt Disney Theatre’s stage. He had made a big deal in his warmup about the cutting-edge technology represented by the DHIs, about the company’s effort to get them into every park, and how excited they were to now introduce them to the cruise line. But in the back of Finn’s mind he couldn’t help reliving his conversation with Storey Ming, his sense that the company might already be on the verge of retiring the original DHIs in favor of a second generation. He wondered if that decision had anything to do with the fame and lore that now surrounded him and the others, with the stories and rumors of their battles to save the parks. Had they grown too big too fast, overshadowing the traditional Disney characters? Did the company hope to return the Disney Hosts to just that, and not have to deal with the public’s appetite for controversial stories of witches and villains attempting to overthrow the parks?
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