Kingdom Keepers III(117)

He found the nylon strap and tied the sword to its end and then climbed the strap like a rope at a ropes course. He wrapped the dangling strap around his leg and shinnied up, taking several minutes and a lot of energy to reach the second level. If Charlene was there, he couldn’t tell. He neither heard nor saw her.

But the blue strap moved, and Finn turned and put his hands to it. He felt Charlene tug once: she was telling Amanda it was safe for her to tie herself to the strap.

Finn held to the strap, waiting for something to happen; Amanda would give them a single tug when she was tied on and ready to be lifted.

Finn counted to thirty. To sixty. He felt Charlene tug the strap for a second time. He knew immediately that the only weight on the end of that strap was the sword. He could see it stand up and dance a few inches off the ground.

The frustration of his invisibility and silence built up so much that he just wanted to scream.

He heard the scuffle of feet and went rigid. Glancing over his shoulder Finn saw a stagehand and another guy—who appeared to be a rigger, judging by the tools he was carrying. The men were coming right at Finn and Charlene. The Keepers were holding the strap, a loop of which lay over the railing and was gathered on the platform. Finn knew that the way the strap hung there had to appear unnatural, because it wasn’t really hanging there: they were holding it.

Finn held his breath.

The stagehand and the rigger walked right past.

Finn moved slowly and tracked them until they, too, disappeared down a staircase.

Amanda wasn’t tied to the strap. If she was down there, she wasn’t playing along.

A deception of the worst kind. Beware your friends and know your enemies.

Charlene began hauling up the sword. She took her time to prevent it from clanking against the concrete and drawing attention.

Finn recalled Amanda breaking away from him. He felt a shiver. He thought back to a conversation they’d had while waiting for Charlene to climb.

You’re going to try to find the Cast Member, he’d reminded her.

“The one playing Maleficent,” she’d said. “I know my job.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“I think I could be of more help than as a messenger.”

“Your…powers. I know. But it’s too dangerous.”

“And that’s ridiculous.”

“If we can get the Cast Member playing Maleficent to talk to the show’s stage manager—”

“While the real Maleficent is out there on stage,” Amanda had said, “then maybe the stage manager sees the problem—sees he has two Maleficents, and then maybe he believes what’s actually going on is going on. We went over it all, Finn. I get it.”

“I’m worried about you, that’s all.” He had blurted it out. It sounded awkward now that he recalled it.

“I can help you if you’ll only let me. Don’t forget Everest Expedition.”

Amanda had saved Finn’s life inside Everest. He had thanked her, and they’d never discussed it since. Now she apparently wanted the chance to play the same role, but the risk to her was too great. Finn had the sword. It seemed likely that only the sword could defeat Maleficent and Chernabog. A gust of wind wasn’t going to change things.

Amanda had said, Don’t worry about me so much.

It wasn’t that simple, and he wished he could have told her why.

Finn was distracted from his reverie by the arrival of the end of the strap, delivering the sword at last. Finn untied the knot and tucked the sword away in a corner to hide it. He couldn’t go walking around the stage area with a sword stuck through his belt. He’d have to come back for it.

Amanda was down there somewhere. Gone. Only the warmth of her remained, searing the tips of his fingers where he’d held onto her.

Finn looked high up into the void of the gray-blue dawn sky, a knot in his chest, confusion in his thoughts, remorse in his heart. He felt utterly alone.

* * *

Philby spotted a possible answer to his needs. The engineer kept glancing at the clock and then at a key chain thick with keys.

The show’s control booth was too important—since it gave access to the control for all the pyrotechnical devices—to be left unlocked. No, it had to be under lock and key, and only a few people would possess such keys, would be given that kind of access. This man and how many others? Certainly not your average Security guard. It would have to be someone much higher up—the head of Security for sure, and a few other key technical personnel.

There! He glanced at the clock again. Philby’s curiosity was satisfied as a voice over a speaker announced: “Break in five minutes. Prepare the stage please.”

All Philby had to do was get the guy outside the booth without his keys. Philby saw a solution to his two problems: the first, getting the keys away from the man, or removing the booth’s key from the key chain, would have to be handled quickly; the second, stopping the show, would happen in just under five minutes, with the break.