Kingdom Keepers V(3)

The Return. Similar in size and looks to a car’s keychain remote, the small device served to end the DHI hologram projection and restore the kids to their sleeping bodies back home. But using the Return had to be coordinated. If he pressed the Return without Willa nearby, she would remain asleep in bed, her hologram locked on this side until a manual return could be arranged—precious time the Overtakers might take advantage of.

As if reading his thoughts Willa appeared, coming through a set of doors to his right and joining him stride for stride.

The hyenas were nearly upon them—jaws snapping inches behind.

“Get…us…out…of…here!” she cried.

The railing arced to the right up ahead. Beyond it, Finn saw only black sky and the twinkling of stars. We’re on the roof of some building, he thought.

“We’re going to jump!” he announced.

He reached out and took her hand with his right hand, the Return gripped firmly in his left.

“Please…no!” she shouted.

“Hang on to me. One…two…” They ran at full speed toward the rail. On “three!” they left their feet in a dive, flying through the air into nothingness.

As Finn crossed the rail, he pressed the button on the Return and released the device, leaving it behind on the roof.

Finn held to Willa’s outstretched hand, not letting go.





Finn sat upright in bed, sweating, his arm at his side, clutching a pillow. It took a minute for him to collect himself, as it often did. Being transported as a DHI was like traveling in a deep dream. Even when waking from such a dream it was difficult to separate fantasy from reality, the dream state from the living state. The first time Finn remembered having been transported into his hologram state he’d met an old man, a retired Disney Imagineer by the name of Wayne. They’d met on the Goofy bench outside of Tony’s Town Square Restaurant. Finn suspected it hadn’t been the first time he’d been transported, only the first time he’d realized what was happening to him. The experiences of dreaming and DHI were too closely correlated; learning the difference between them had taken practice. Even now, Finn couldn’t be sure what he’d just been through.

He reached for his phone—he wasn’t supposed to keep it by his bed, but he did—and texted Willa.


u there?



He waited. The screen timed out, returning to wallpaper and the time: 2:33 a.m. He hoped she was all right. Hoped she’d ended up in her bed. But, he reminded himself, they’d been holding hands when he’d punched the Return. There was little to no chance she could have been left behind, trapped in the Sleeping Beauty Syndrome of no return in which her mortal body would remain asleep like an unkissed princess.

Finn wasn’t about to get back to sleep. He tiptoed into the kitchen and made himself a strong cup of tea to help him stay awake. Tiptoed because he didn’t want to wake his supportive mother or his doubting father; didn’t want to hear them bicker about how to deal with their oddball son who claimed to travel into other worlds at night. His mother knew the truth. A scientist by training, she’d put together enough empirical evidence to convince herself. Finn’s father was the exact opposite. He believed his son hormonally imbalanced, “poisoned by puberty,” he called it. He wanted Finn to see a counselor—a shrink—to exorcise whatever demons possessed his son into convincing himself he could wake as a hologram in another world where evil witches vied for control of an amusement park. Finn and his dad barely spoke anymore. They avoided each other, living with the dismissive silence that hung between them, where things left unsaid were louder than any argument. There were times Finn wished they’d just take the gloves off and get into it. To fight it out until they could talk again; to get his father back. But not his father, he of the soft voice and button-down shirts—the guy who rarely showed much emotion beyond the occasional simmering anger.

Finn checked his phone a second time. Nothing.

He was halfway through the cup of tea in his room when he reconsidered his situation. The theft of the library volume—the notebook—had to be significant if Maleficent, the Evil Queen, and Cruella had teamed up to find it. What if the timing of the theft made a difference? At this point, he wasn’t going to sleep anyway, so he got to work.

He texted Philby, knowing that despite the hour the message would be received. Philby was a cyber-freak, a tech genius, and computer nerd. For nearly two years now he had possessed the ability to control the DHI server remotely, to direct Finn, or any of the DHIs, into one park or another. Finn had left the Return behind on the warehouse roof—or wherever he and Willa had just jumped from—but such limitations could be overcome; Philby could return a DHI manually if need be. Finn included this request in his text.