Kingdom Keepers: The Syndrome

by Ridley Pearson

  “July seventeenth, 1955,” Jess whispered. “It’s not possible.”

  “A time capsule,” Mattie said. “Finn was telling us all along, don’t you see? A time capsule! He wanted us to know they’d gone back in time.”

  “As DHIs,” Joe gasped. “Tesla. How could…? It’s impossible.”

  “If you can dream it,” I muttered.

  The three of them looked up at me. I could feel their gaze without actually meeting their eyes.

  “Nineteen-fifty-five,” Joe repeated. “You understand: there’s no way this is possible.”

  I nodded faintly. “I know. But then…explain this.”

  Carefully, I widened the image slightly, zoomed in on the space between the heads of Finn and Willa, who stood shoulder to shoulder. The picture became grainy again.

  “What is that?” Mattie breathed.

  Jess answered. “It’s Finn’s right hand. He’s holding something. He’s looking right into the camera and he’s smiling and he’s holding something.”

  I wasn’t going to claim he was looking right at me. But I knew what I knew.

  Joe had figured it out, too. You didn’t get much past Joe. He fished the empty notecard envelope out of the pile of stuff on the floor.

  In the photo, in the space between the two heads, in Finn’s right hand, was a rectangular piece of paper. It had been written on, though we’d never be able to read it.

  My note. The note that belonged in the envelope addressed to me.

  Joe spoke aloud the truth that was haunting us all.

  “They were in Disneyland on Opening Day, 1955.”

  “With Wayne,” Jess said.

  “And Walt,” Mattie added.

  “Finn,” I gasped through more tears. “What are they doing there?”

  “Perhaps not even they know,” Joe said.

  “But Wayne knew, or he wouldn’t have sent them.”

  “Wayne is there with them,” Joe said.

  “We solved it!” Jess said. “That’s what’s important. We can project them now. We know where they are and that at least for now they can’t return.”

  “Or don’t want to,” I said, feeling my throat knot.

  “We don’t know what they want, but hopefully they know Tia Dalma’s part of it now.”

  “I miss them,” I blurted out.

  “You saved them,” Joe said. “All three of you.”

  “And you got rid of Greg Luowski for us!” Mattie chimed in. “Thank you for that.”

  “Good riddance,” I said.

  “You should be proud of yourselves,” Joe said. “For now, the Keepers are safe, and you’ve warned them of potential trouble. Not bad for a trio of Fairlie Humans.”

  Jess started to laugh first. Then Mattie. Finally I joined in, though the tears I shed were not tears of laughter. I looked at the grainy black-and-white photo and the card held in Finn’s hand. A card meant for me.

  I wonder what it said, and I wondered if I’d ever find out.

  THE SCHOOL OF IMAGINEERING operated out of the Team Disney building just behind a towering wall that separated a backstage area from Disneyland’s Toontown. Few of the Team Disney Cast Members knew of the school’s existence, given that it had its own entrance. The college-aged students coming and going could be easily mistaken for other Cast Members, or interns, contributing to the secrecy. Those associated with the school called it “DIS,” which sounded like “Diz,” and was generally assumed to be just a reference to Disney.

  Enrollment never exceeded two hundred, usually hovering around one hundred and fifty, and with many of those in the field, the daily traffic in and out was fewer than a hundred people.

  Amanda and Jess were two of the newly enrolled students. Though they looked nothing alike, they were often thought to be sisters. Given their similar manerisms, the result of their shared history, it was an easy mistake to make. Neither of the girls appreciated the term “paranormal,” as they’d heard it spoken too often while confined to a boarding school outside of Baltimore that served more as a prison/testing lab for two dozen kids who possessed unusual abilities. The two had escaped the facility together, had fled the bizarre testing to which they’d been subjected. A few key Imagineers knew this about the girls.

  Amanda was olive-skinned with vaguely Asian eyes, while Jess was pale, white-haired (not blond), and in need of a few pounds. They were both pretty girls in their own ways, as well as mysterious and self-confident, leaving them no shortage of interested boys trying to get to know them.

  “He called,” Amanda told Jess across a lunch table bearing two orange trays from the Team Disney commissary. Jess was eating packaged sushi; Amanda, penne pasta with rotisserie chicken.

  “And?” Jess asked, knowing without asking that it could only be Finn Whitman. Amanda pretended otherwise, but she lived each moment wanting to hear from Finn.

  “He wants our help.

  They do, actually. Not just Finn.”

  “With?”

  “Not exactly sure.”

  “That should make it easy.”

  The two girls had helped Finn and his friends in the past. It wasn’t a new request, just a bit of surprise that Finn should ask outright.

  “I thought it was all over,” Jess said. “With them. You know?”

  “Yeah, well, there is that.”

  “So it is, or it isn’t over?” Jess was considering the nearly decade-long war the Keepers had waged on the Disney villains. Nearly always in the parks; nearly always after dark; always dangerous.

  “I think it is. I mean, I know it is. Over. But obviously they’re up to something, or why would they ask for our help?”

  “What kind of help? As Fairlies, or as Imagineering School students?” The group of kids back at Barracks 14 in Baltimore had been tagged Fairlies for “Fairly Human.” It was a denigrating term neither girl loved, but it fit, so they even used it themselves at times. Far better than being called “freaks” or “witches.”

  “Research,” Amanda answered, “into the history of some attractions. Maybe some fieldwork.”

  “That doesn’t exactly sound awful to me.”

  “No.”

  “Beats homework.”

  “True enough.”

  “But they’re still around here, right? The Keepers? Up in Burbank? All but Charlene.”

  “He didn’t say. Charlene is definitely still in Hollywood.”

  “Let me get this straight: You talked to Finn and he didn’t tell you where he was? What exactly did he say?” Jess asked.

  “It was quick. I said I’d talk to you.”

  “Oh, great. So if we don’t agree to help it’s on me. I’m the bad guy. Love it.”

  “No. Not like that. I mean, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “What could they possibly be up to? Walt’s apartment again? Did he mention Walt’s apartment?”

  “No, he did not. Nor the firehouse.”

  “Did it ever strike you as odd that they were allowed in there in the first place? That apartment is like hallowed ground.”

  “I’m not sure they were. Allowed, I mean. I think they went up there because of Wayne. On their own.”

  “Oh, great. Listen, Mandy, we’ve been admitted into the coolest school that ever existed. Agreed? You realize that, right? Imagineer School? Hello? The best and the brightest. We are being paid to learn stuff people would kill to know.”

  “Maybe that’s the point,” Amanda said. “The killing part.”

  For several years the Disney villains wanting control of the parks—the Overtakers—had threatened the five DHIs, nearly killing them a dozen times.

  “I thought they were going back to Orlando. Back home. Right?” Jess sounded eager for that to happen.

  “Apparently not right away. The only person who could keep them here is—”

  “Joe.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re students here now. We can’t request a meeting with the head Imagineer. That would mess everything
up. What would our teachers think? It’s like going to the principal without asking a teacher. And if Joe does us some favor, how would that look? I don’t want to be special, Mandy. We have a chance here, you know? I mean, sure, people may find out what we can do, but the others here are brilliant. I do not want to stick out anymore than is inevitable. I want to start over.”

  “As if.”

  “We’ve talked about this. You want it as much as I do.”

  “I do,” Amanda said.

  “And one phone call from Finn changes that?”

  Amanda turned her pained face to Jess. “Don’t do that, okay?”

  “Tell me it’s not true, because that’s the way it looks.”

  “They need us.”

  “Can’t they do their own snooping around?”

  “Apparently not, or he wouldn’t have asked.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “He didn’t want to pressure me, influence our decision, by getting too detailed. He wanted me to talk to you first.”

  “You’re making that up,” Jess said. “You’re trying to soften me up.”

  “I swear.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “Then I won’t ask again.”

  “And you won’t do anything without me, right? Agreed?”

  “I didn’t say that. I can’t say that.” Amanda pursed her lips, looking as if she might cry.

  “We always do things together. As in, always.” Jess waited for some crack to appear. “Say something.”

  Amanda shrugged. “You said fieldwork sounded interesting.”

  “Yeah, but not if we might get thrown out of here. You do realize what we’ve got here? No foster mother. Our own room together. Good food. Nice people. They’re paying us, and they’re promising to hire us ahead of a zillion other interns.”

  “They’re our friends.”

  “I’m not arguing that. I love them all. Really. As in, love them. But we’re moving on here, Mandy. You get that, right? I know you do. I’m not saying we can’t have them as friends. Always. Forever. But we can’t risk what we have, this chance Joe gave us. We jumped ahead of thousands of kids who would do anything to be Imagineers. We didn’t even apply for these internships! Don’t mess this up.”

  “He mentioned Walt’s music box.”

  “What about it? What exactly he did tell you?”

  “He didn’t really tell. Hinted, maybe.”

  “Research? That’s all?”

  “They’re going to check the Archives, but the rumor is that the more top secret stuff is either here in Team Disney or at the dorm.”

  “The dorm?”

  “It’s been around forever. That old hotel.”

  Jess clarified. “So, you want to spy on the people offering us all this?”

  “It’s not spying, it’s research. We’re not going to take anything, we’re not going to steal anything. We’re going to study. Learn stuff. Important stuff.”

  “Says Finn?” asked Jess.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “But you won’t help me?”

  “I won’t join you. Not doing stuff we shouldn’t do. I’m so happy here, Mandy. I can’t risk losing it.”

  “I understand. But if you dream something, you’ll tell me, right?”

  “I can’t risk losing you, either. I’m going to talk you out of this. You know they can do this on their own. There are five of them. They are this incredible team. There’s nothing they can’t do!”

  “You’re not going to talk me out of it.”

  “Please?”

  Amanda winced. It was an expression Jess had not been on the receiving end of, the kind of expression Amanda had never considered giving her. It was disappointment and a rebuff. Childish, but meaningful to both of them. It was a statement, a question, confusion and triumph.

  It was devastating.

  RIDLEY PEARSON is the award-winning author of the best-selling Kingdom Keepers series along with forty other novels for adults and young-ish readers. A sometime recreational tree climber and occasional snowboarder, Ridley spends whatever time he can sneaking around the Disney parks and aboard the Disney Cruise Line ships, all in the name of research.