Kingdom Keepers V(19)

“If there was an enemy to fight, we could fight them,” one of the newcomers said.

“Exactly!” Finn said. “The big problem is we don’t know where they are and we don’t know what they’ll do next. Hard to fight an enemy you can’t see.”

“We see them by day,” Megan said. She meant the witches and fairies, Audio-Animatronics and Cast Members, who were Overtakers by night. There was a growing sentiment among legitimate Cast Members to take the battle into the day, when the Overtakers were, in some ways, more vulnerable and more easily identified. But the reality was that it was difficult, if not impossible, to distinguish between a Cast Member playing a villain and the actual villain. Attacking Cast Members was frowned upon.

“If we can’t launch our own attacks, then we’re always on the defensive,” said Bart, one of the two interns. He looked like a surfer. Willa couldn’t stop herself from staring at him.

“That’s how this goes,” Finn said. “We all know the drill. We all know it’s bogus.”

“If we’re always on the defensive, how can we ever win?” said Megan.

“We can win…” Finn began. But this was a legitimate issue and one he couldn’t easily answer. He offered the short version: “…by recapturing Maleficent and Chernabog. By taking Cruella and the Evil Queen prisoner.” He thought back to the theft at the library; that had been a missed opportunity. To have seized the three—all the principals but Chernabog—would have set the Overtakers back considerably.

A restaurant worker in uniform and hat went about wiping down some tables in the far corner. Finn motioned for the others to lower their voices. He did so as well.

“What about the home invasions?” Maybeck asked in a whisper. “I say we take out the OTKs right now.”

“I agree. It’s time,” Finn said.

Eyes bulged. Finn had been the voice of calm and reason for so long no one could believe he would advocate an attack on other kids.

“Finn?” Amanda asked, as if he had to be an impostor.

She and her sister, Jess, changed their looks all the time: hair color, length, makeup, the way they dressed; some believed they were just trying to be cool, but Finn knew that back in Maryland, the girls had been part of a group called the Fairlies—kids with “unusual or paranormal skills.” Maybe part of their constant switching of looks had something to do with that.

“I was attacked in bed and nearly poisoned having just returned from crossing over,” Finn said. “Maybeck was attacked at home. By Tasers! His aunt was injured.” The group muttered among themselves. “It’s become too dangerous for us. All of us! Enough is enough.”

The murmur grew to a low roar.

“So what do we do?” Amanda asked. Any mention in the press of kids attacking kids might leave a trail to follow to her and her sister. Fairlies were often at the heart of such stories because of their unusual powers.

“I don’t know. I’m open to suggestions,” Finn said. “But since they’re willing to send OTKs after us in our homes, we know how badly the OTs must want us out of the picture. And that must mean that we’re doing something right.”

“Maybe they’re getting close to the end of the Siege,” Maybeck suggested.

“Either through withdrawal or a full-scale attack on Base,” said Willa.

“I wouldn’t be too hasty.” It was a man’s low, gravelly voice. It belonged to the worker in the corner.

Finn was immediately alarmed that a Cast Member had overheard them. Worse, the old guy—ancient, by the look and sound of him—dared to butt his way into their discussion.

“Wayne?” Willa had a musician’s ear. She’d picked out the man’s voice instantly.

The Cast Member’s tam lifted slightly, and trans-lucent blue eyes appeared beneath a shock of white hair. It was a weathered face from years in sunny Florida, creased with worry lines. Etched with experience.

A sly grin swept over the man’s face.

“Present and accounted for,” Wayne said.

A collective gasp filled the room as the Keepers and volunteers identified the stranger. Being in a room with Wayne Kresky was like having a meeting with Bob Iger, the CEO of Disney—rare air.

Finn rushed over and hugged the man, experiencing a sense of guilt about his feelings the night before. Suddenly feeling very awkward, he let go of Wayne and returned to his perch facing the others. Wayne smiled at him, but the usual twinkle in the man’s eyes was not there. Finn felt the pit return to his stomach.

“Haste makes waste,” Wayne said. He introduced himself to the newcomers as “a friend of the parks.” But they all knew who he was, if not by recognition, then by reputation.