Kingdom Keepers IV(35)

Ariel had not fed her any air. Her lungs were bursting as they broke through the surface. She coughed and gasped for air.

They found themselves in a much bigger tank. Again, a metal ladder ran down below the water’s surface, stretching high above them to a circular catwalk surrounding the tank.

As Ariel pulled herself up the rungs, Willa watched as her mermaid’s tail changed into a girl’s long, bare legs and bare bottom.

“I keep these handy just for this transition,” Ariel said once they’d reached a steel catwalk at the top. She had her back to Willa as she slipped on a pair of bikini bottoms that she’d had cleverly wrapped around the back strap of her halter top, hidden by her long hair.

She led Willa out a heavy metal door and onto another catwalk. Willa nearly screamed as she reached to steady herself. They were a hundred feet above ground, high up on a catwalk balcony surrounding the Park water tower. But Willa, like Philby, was a climber, and had no trouble with the height once she realized where she was. Ms. Cheerleader, Charlene, could do some climbing too, but more of the gymnastic variety. Willa and Philby were the Keepers who did the rope courses and climbing wall as after-school activities. It was where she’d first started liking him.

“It’s…beautiful,” Willa said.

“Yes. I love it up here. There’s a lot to be said for being human.”

“You saved my life.”

“Mermaids,” Ariel said, interrupting, “have a long-standing tradition of rescuing sailors at sea. It would seem that is about all we’re good for. That, and exciting homesick sailors in the first place.”

“In my house, you’re known for your singing.”

“Yes, well…that came later.”

“What do we do now?” asked Willa.

“I am not sure. I only know that no one will find us here. No one will see us. I often spend time here—overlooking the Park, watching the guests, playing the occasional prank. Did you know that mermaids like to make practical jokes?”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

“Yes, well, how would you feel if shipbuilders were constantly carving sculptures of you on the front of their ships from the waist up? It’s undignified. Such things deserve practical joking.”

“Can I ask you something?” Willa said.

“You just did.”

Willa giggled. “You said you knew of the Keepers.”

“Of course.”

“Are there…others who would consider helping us?”

“I told you: You have many friends here. You might be surprised to discover how many stand with you. Here in the World, and in the Land as well, we lack only a leader. We assume that is why you and the others have come. To lead us.”

Willa’s head spun. Finn had often talked about Wayne making reference to leadership. She’d always thought of it in terms of the Keepers—never the Disney characters themselves. Willa had never considered that she and the others were there to lead a movement. She doubted Finn or anyone else had, either.

“My father, King Triton, says a kingdom has room for only one ruler,” Ariel said.

“Our group is more of a democracy,” Willa said. “But maybe we’re here to help you find a leader. What about Mickey? Isn’t Mickey your leader?”

Ariel locked into a distant stare. She’d gone somewhere far away. “We can discuss this another time, I think.” Her entire demeanor had changed.

Willa filed the information away for later. Why had mention of Mickey closed off Ariel?

Willa said, “Let me ask you this. If you’re here…” she reached over and touched the beautiful girl, “does that mean Ursula’s here, too?”

“Of course. Everyone’s here. Aren’t they? There are so few you can trust here, believe me.”

“We need a plan,” Willa mumbled.

“Or a script. There’s always a script to follow.”

“Not always, I’m afraid,” Willa said. “This is one of those times. We need to write our own script.”

Willa looked out on the empty Park. Occasionally she caught movement from a particular direction, but by the time she turned to look in that direction the street would be empty, the Park a ghost town.

Willa recalled with some dread Judge Frollo’s eagerness to drown her. How the soldiers had appeared so well organized.

They had been waiting for her to cross over. They had wanted her to describe the sketch Jess had shown her at school. It meant only one thing: someone had told them about Jess showing it to her.

The spies were real.

“Something’s going on here,” she allowed to slip out.

“Oh, there’s a great deal going on, dear girl. We just so seldom see it.”