Kingdom Keepers the Return Book 3

by Ridley Pearson

  Groups of Fairlies entering Disneyland? In trying to figure it out she’d let her guard down. Suddenly, she felt a crushing sensation like the early warnings of a massive headache. A reacher!

  James Calder Corwin was using the same conduit to steal her thoughts. They entered into a polite battle of wills, both working hard to disguise their ability, an unforgiving heat filling her eyes. There was no letting go now. If she could win out, she might be able to push him into not remembering the read.

  He gained. He possessed enormous power and knew how to use it. She resisted him, throwing out distracting images and false information. He, too, pitched a volley of worthless memories at her. She dodged them, letting them pass her consciousness. Mustering all of her strength, she blasted a sentence at him: Of course I remember you, Margaret.

  “Of course I remember you, Margaret!” he said, looking bewildered.

  Mattie instantly released her hold on him and apologized profusely. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! You look so much like my biology teacher, Mr. Inis! Please…I’m so sorry! How rude of me!”

  “Not at all.” James Corwin looked a little bit like Mattie had punched him in the face. The spoken sentence had blanked him as she’d hoped. The micro-second that had felt like minutes lapsed.

  It took a moment to untangle their wills.

  “It’s not ‘Margaret,’ is it?” Corwin said rhetorically. “It’s Martha? No!” He focused on her face. “I do know you, don’t I.” A statement, not a question.

  “I’m so sorry to have bothered you. My mistake.” Mattie turned away.

  If he had recognized her, it was from Barracks 14! She felt a pit open in her stomach, a sickening, nauseating sensation. She swallowed frantically to keep her food down. She’d just stood inches from—had made physical contact with—a man from her past. A man capable of capturing children. Of testing them like they were frogs in biology class. She felt dizzy and afraid.

  She saw Zeke standing at the end of the bridge pretending to admire some potted flowers. Mattie walked past Zeke. “Keep your eye on him.”

  Moments later, Zeke Hollingsworth found her.

  “He went into the Off the Page and didn’t come out. Mattie? Mattie, are you okay?”

  “He’s a reacher,” she said. “He can force his thoughts into you.”

  Zeke inhaled sharply.

  “His name is James Corwin. He came after me.”

  “Corwin! Ah! Yes! I remember him well. He’s close to Amery. A confidant, for certain. Did you…were you able to…you know—?”

  “Read him? It was bad, very bad. He reached. We fought, and I won. He won’t remember, but I was lucky this time. Adults never have that kind of strength.” Mattie slowed and looked up into Zeke’s face, wondering how much he understood, how much she should share. “It’s complicated. I need to talk to Joe right away.”

  “Who knows if that’s even possible?”

  “We have to make it possible. There’s going to be an attack, Zeke. An attack on Disneyland.”

  MIDNIGHT PASSED WITHOUT a clock tower tolling. No coyotes howled; nor did wraiths descend from the sky. Just another night in Anaheim, California.

  Disneyland’s guests had left three hours earlier, driving off in their four-door Chevrolet Bel Airs and Buick Skylarks. The cars were old and boxy, with white-walled tires and silver AM radio antennas. In all the Disneyland parking lots there hadn’t been a Japanese or Korean, German or Italian car to be found. The few pickup trucks looked like Mater; their engines ran loud and bubbly.

  With the closing of the park, Charlene and Amanda had transformed from weak holograms to mortal girls. Both had changed into the loose-fitting blue jeans and black T-shirts supplied by Wayne. Charlene was especially glad to be free of her crinoline petticoat for a few precious hours. Her blond curls were held off her face using bobby pins. If things got physical, she didn’t want to be blinded even for an instant.

  Squatting behind a bench in the last row from the bandstand, the girls pulled neckerchiefs over their chins and noses, hiding everything but their eyes. Their breathing was rough and rapid; they clutched hands for a moment. Both girls squeezed to signal companionship. They were in this together. Then they hurried to the back of the bandstand.

  Amanda pointed out the two seams in the wood lattice, which ran like an apron around the bandstand’s raised platform. Her fingers reached, searching through the checkerboard lattice. She made contact with a metal latch, deciphered how it operated, and pulled a small tab. The lattice popped open. The two bandits locked eyes, sharing a moment of silent glee.

  Gently, Charlene opened the gate. Amanda ducked and stepped into the dark cavity beneath the bandstand’s stage. The five-foot-high space forced her to duck her head. She nearly tumbled forward as her right foot dropped into place. A step.

  She reached back, grabbed Charlene by the forearm, and pulled. Hesitantly, Charlene took the next step with her. Together, the girls descended three more steps. Amanda waved her arms, seeking purchase in the pitch black. Her fingers smacked into a metal grate. She ran her hands up and down it, at last connecting with a large hinge attached to a curving concrete hole.

  “It’s a big drain, I think,” Amanda whispered. “There’s a screen or lid, something that’s raised. The drain is open.” She dropped to her knees. “Found a handle, or maybe it’s a step? Hang on.” She felt around. “It’s a step, a metal bar sticking out, but there’s another below it.”

  A light came on, startling Amanda. Charlene was holding an L-shaped green flashlight. “I was a Girl Scout,” she said, almost apologetically. “I got my silver award, but couldn’t quite cut gold. Still, I learned to be prepared. Borrowed this from Wayne’s workshop.”

  The light revealed a concrete hole three feet across. A wire hatch, opened and held up by a hook, came down from the underside of the bandstand stage. The hole was deep, perhaps eight or ten feet, with metal ladder rungs leading down. The bottom was dry, sand-covered concrete.

  Amanda threw a leg over the edge and placed her toe on the first step. Then the next. She paused. “We’re going down here, right?” she asked.

  “Right.”

  “I knew you were going to say that.”

  A moment later, the two girls were standing at the bottom, the light shining into a four-foot-high tunnel. The sound of flowing water echoed ahead of them.

  “Drainage,” Charlene said. “Or maybe…” She didn’t finish her thought.

  “What? Say it! Please!” Amanda sounded frightened.

  “Finn once told me that back in 1955—as in now—all the lakes and lagoons in Disneyland were connected. That was right before he and I dove into a pond and swam underwater and into a—”

  “Pipe,” Amanda said.

  “You got it.”

  “So this—?”

  “Has something to do with it, I’ll bet.” Charlene pushed past Amanda, leading the way. They stooped low and shuffled ahead for about twenty feet, at which point the pipe hit a T-junction, similarly sized tunnels running off in both directions.

  The main tunnel felt like a concrete box with a trough in the center, carrying a large corrugated metal pipe about three feet in diameter. The narrow box allowed for a small flat ledge on either side.

  “That’s what Finn and I swam through,” Charlene said, flashing the light onto the pipe.

  “And this?” Amanda asked, indicating the narrow space.

  “Storm sewer for rainwater. Access to repair the pipe. Typical Disney efficiency. Philby would love this.”

  “Which way do we go?”

  “That way is Main Street, and the pond we dove into.”

  “And that?” Amanda pointed.

  “I’m only guessing, but I’d say this is a tunnel to the castle.”

  * * *

  Moving through the storm sewer conduit required the girls to lean against the pipe, with their bottoms rubbing along the concrete wall. It was slow going, as they had to maneuver around the occasional support bracket. Eve
ry so often, park light would filter down through an overhead street drain, allowing them to switch off the flashlight. The added light made the space less spooky, a welcome reprieve.

  “Given that this is hardly easy,” Amanda said, “why would anyone bother?”

  “I’m not sure we’ll know until we get there. At the very least, it’s some kind of escape route. One thing’s for sure: those two weren’t ordinary Cast Members. They were lying to Wayne, just as we thought.”

  Their journey took less than ten minutes, though it felt like twice that. The pipe ended at a concrete wall and a second short access tunnel, like the one below the bandstand, to their left. The girls climbed similar built-in ladder steps, the pipe narrowing and reaching a manhole-size drain cover. It opened easily.

  The two girls climbed up and out, finding themselves in a cavelike concrete space: the interior of the castle’s southwest wall, possibly near the drawbridge. They followed scuff marks lit by the flashlight. Finally, they spotted a metal door set into the wall to their right.

  “Whoa!” Amanda proclaimed.

  “Yeah,” agreed Charlene. “I love this stuff.”

  Amanda shook her head hard. “It’s spooky.”

  “It’s exciting.” Charlene’s eyes were alight in the dark.

  “Maybe for you.”

  “I think you should go first in case we need you to push someone.”

  “Oh, thanks a lot!”

  “It’s late, Mandy. No one’s going to be hanging around here.”

  “If that’s true, then why would I have to push?” Amanda asked teasingly.

  “Busted,” Charlene said.

  Amanda cracked open the door an inch and put her eye to the space. “Flashlight.” Charlene passed it. Amanda aimed it into the crack, but almost immediately snapped off the light. “I saw movement. People near the back of the room,” she whispered.

  “That’s good, right?” Charlene said.

  “As opposed to a dragon’s lair? Yes.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not? Charlene asked. “The scuff marks clearly lead inside. Aren’t you at all curious?”

  “The word petrified comes to mind.”

  “You’re the one with the superpower,” Charlene said.

  “It’s not a superpower. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t that. I’m a freak, okay? I get it. It doesn’t make me brave, only bizarre.”

  “You’re brave. I’ve seen you in action, Amanda, remember?”

  “I’d rather not hurt people.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you?”

  “What’s bothering me is I don’t mind pushing to defend myself, or helping you guys, but I’m not real excited about using it because we got ourselves into trouble.”

  “Well.” Charlene paused. “That’s admirable.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “You really are made for Finn,” Charlene said. “You know that, right? That sounds exactly like something he’d say. He can be so righteous!”

  “We’re breaking and entering. Trespassing.”

  “We’re following a route used by two spies who lied to Wayne and tried to infiltrate his workshop.”

  “Well.” Amanda twisted her lips, considering. “When you put it like that…”

  “That’s how it is, Mandy. It’s us against them, period.”

  “I’m going first,” Amanda said, her confidence swelling.

  Charlene patted her on the back. “I’m right behind you.”

  THE COLORFUL PHOTOGRAPHS and art on the office walls gave a false sense of joy and celebration. The Disney Cruise Line ships. Mickey. Mortimer Mouse.

  Joe Garlington had the original art, not copies. And he had a steely look in his eyes that contrasted oddly with his Hawaiian shirt, curly mop of hair, and surfer tan.

  Mattie shifted, uncomfortable. She would have preferred a park bench near a playground. This felt like the principal’s office. It felt like Barracks 14.

  The personal risk represented by the information she possessed terrified her. She was opening a door to involvement, a door she wasn’t sure she wanted to enter.

  “How certain are you?” Joe’s voice was somber and deadly serious.

  “I knew them,” she said.

  “Fairlies.”

  “All of them. Yes.” There it was, a sense of betrayal. This, despite her knowing better. The Fairlies had been family. How could she do this without speaking to them first, to the ones she’d loved?

  “Here?”

  “It could have been something he was imagining, you know? Reading a person isn’t exactly science. Most of our abilities, our Fairlie abilities, shift and change. Maybe I read a memory.” But she didn’t believe her own words.

  “How many, again?” Joe had a pen in hand. It had Mickey ears on top. That pen, writing something down, made her statement all too real. Mattie was ratting out the very people whose friendships had kept her going.

  “Lots,” she said quietly.

  “As in?”

  “I don’t know. A dozen. Maybe more like twenty.” How could she explain her reading to him? It wasn’t like watching a documentary on TV. It was more like a dream/nightmare of images and voices, all mixed up in a swirling stew of someone else’s thoughts. An uncomfortable invasion of privacy, like hiding in a closet and eavesdropping.

  “Entering the park?”

  She’d told him this enough times. It seemed like punishment to keep repeating herself. “Right. I didn’t see that; he did. He thought it, remembered it. Maybe imagined it.”

  Even as she spoke, she despaired. No one understood her.

  “And this guy Corwin. Any sense of where he is in regards to Hollingsworth?”

  “I didn’t see anything like that. I’m pretty sure he was in charge of the kids. The Fairlies. That makes sense with the way they ran the Barracks.”

  “But a reacher?”

  “Yeah, that’s the thing. Pretty sure he’s one of us. A Fairlie, but an adult. I didn’t think…What we’ve always said among ourselves, what somebody heard one time in Baltimore, was that our abilities weaken as we get older. They leave us after our early twenties. With Corwin, maybe not.” She shrugged. “Maybe what I heard is true. But maybe it isn’t. He tried to reach, to read me. That much I’m sure of. And he’s no teenager.”

  “So maybe some of you retain your abilities. Does that scare you?” Joe asked.

  “Are you my shrink now?” Despite her bluster, it did. It terrified her. If someone read her, they might learn everything about the Keepers, about Amanda and Jess. She’d be a traitor to her own team without meaning to be.

  Joe stared across the desk at her. Mattie stared right back at him.

  “I’m not your enemy,” he said.

  “Good. I’m not your daughter. You don’t get to know what scares me. You don’t get to know the things they put us through.”

  “So what about your abilities?” Joe asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “They’re only getting stronger. So don’t worry: he didn’t read me, if that’s what you’re asking. But he tried. That’s the thing: he tried!”

  Silence. Someone was mowing one of the studio lawns. Mattie wished she could leave, could lie out in the sun, smelling the fresh-cut grass. She wished she hadn’t shared anything with Joe. But her friendship with Amanda and Jess overcame all caution. She knew she had to do this, to help in any way she could.

  “When he…you know, I made him say what I was thinking. That’s a first for me. Pushing a thought like that. It made me tired, but it happened, which was cool.” She regretted her words the minute they left her mouth.

  “I’ll bet it did. That’s useful for me to know.”

  “Which is why I told you.” Mattie paused, locked eyes with Joe. “Now, let me ask you this: What happens when I’m no longer useful to you?”

  Joe nodded. “That’s a fair question.” He smirked, neither a smile nor a frown.

  “Amanda, me, and Jes
s. We’re tired of people using us. Adults using us. If it’s a fair question, how ’bout you answer it?”

  “No reason for that attitude.”

  “There’s every reason. You want me to list them?” She gave him a moment. “If you please, sir,” she said sarcastically, “answer the question!” Her voice rose on the last three words, echoing till it drowned out the lawn mower buzzing outside.

  “We take care of our own. That’s you, if you want it to be. Jess and Amanda, too. They’re starting over, and we’re helping them.”

  “Are you kidding me? You sent them back in time! We may never see them again! Are you kidding me?”

  Joe lifted his chin and spoke carefully, as if he were working to stay calm. “This is a difficult time for all of us, Mattie. I need your help. Amanda and Jess need your help.”

  “Those Fairlies I saw inside Corwin’s head? They’re coming for you, Joe. They’re coming to wreck your parks. Maybe against their will. I don’t know. And maybe they’re already here. If not, they’re on their way, and they can do stuff you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Oh, but I would believe. I believe you. And nobody but nobody’s messing with my parks.”

  “Then we need a plan,” Mattie said defiantly.

  Joe’s eyes warmed, and for a moment, Mattie felt like he could see into her soul. “That’s more like it.”

  “SOME KIND OF BREAK ROOM, maybe,” Amanda whispered to Charlene, “but pretty bleak.”

  Charlene tried to nudge her away from the viewing spot, but Amanda held her ground. “Empty?” Charlene asked.

  “Three Cast Members sitting with their backs to us. I can’t see their faces. No idea if they’re Thia and Shane.”

  Charlene, the more agile of the two, positioned herself beneath Amanda and was able to get her ear to the crack in the door. “They’re talking about Wayne’s riddle. Must be them.”

  One of the seated Cast Members threw a glance over his shoulder in Amanda’s direction. It was Shane. Amanda jerked her head back, cursing internally, as she yanked Charlene away with her. She signaled Charlene for quiet, index finger to her lips.

  Amanda dared to steal a quick look. Shane was coming toward them.