Kingdom Keepers VI(17)

“Greg,” the boy said. “Luowski.”

The man shone a blinding light into his eyes. “Open ’em wide.”

Luowski did as he was told, revealing the deep-green irises. For a while he’d worn green contacts because Maleficent had told him to. Then, one morning he’d woken up and they weren’t contacts anymore. From that day on, he hadn’t felt like himself.

A voice behind him said, “Arms up. Feet spread.”

Luowski startled as he was patted down from behind. He didn’t look back.

“Clean,” the unseen man said in a fake Jamaican accent.

Sheesh! “Is this happening or not?” Luowski said, impatient despite his better judgment. He knew to keep his mouth shut, yet like so many things in his life, his brain said one thing and his actions came out the exact opposite.

“Chill,” said the one in front of him. Definitely not a pirate.

A blindfold was pulled over his eyes. Tightened, it covered his ears and dulled the sounds as he was guided forward. Straight for five paces. Left. He tried to memorize their movements in case he needed a quick exit.

“Up!” said the fake Jamaican, prodding him from behind.

“You’re kidding!” he said.

But it was no use. Luowski climbed a ladder blindfolded. Not easy. Six rungs up. A turn right. Two steps. Left, three. Left again. He was losing track, already forgetting the turns they’d made. It grew noticeably colder, and the whirring of fans made it loud.

“You have it for me.” Her voice, like cracking ice.

The character of Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty was a tall, green woman in a pressed cape and nice clothes. The Maleficent Cast Member was nearly identical. But the Maleficent Luowski heard—he’d never actually seen her—sounded like an old, menacing hag, like the nastiest grandmother in the neighborhood, the one with thirty cats in her house and a brown, overgrown yard.

There was yet someone else standing nearby, someone previously unaccounted for. Luowski resisted turning in that direction. The person was a mouth breather—a long-time smoker, maybe—and he/she gave off strange odors—moss, mud, human sweat. The smells didn’t fit with what he thought about Maleficent. This was someone else. Someone…unforgettable.

Wanting it all over with, Luowski reached into his front pocket, withdrew the blood-and-guts encrusted USB thumb drive, and held it in his open palm.

Cold fingers plucked it away.

Maleficent needed the cold.

“Well done, young man,” the dark fairy said. “Well done, indeed.”

“It…we had to kill it.”

“Yes. Pity. The hyenas are so helpful.”

“Had to gut it.”

“Spare me the whining.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The dry-throat breathing sounds came from his immediate right now. Luowski could feel whoever it was sizing him up.

“There is more to be done,” said Maleficent.

The other one wouldn’t speak.

“We need you to collect one of them for us.”

“Collect,” Luowski repeated.

Now it was Maleficent holding her tongue.

“One of what?” he asked.

“Not what: whom.”

“You want to run that by me again?”

“Are you deaf?”

“No, ma’am. Your Excellency. Whatever…”

“Never mind that for now. But we will speak of this again.” A shiver swept through Luowski. “Presently,” she said, “there is a task at hand. Once on Aruba…you will be joined by an associate. Perhaps we will send Dixon. Perhaps Victor. It is hard to say. It is an important task. Of the utmost importance. To fail is…unacceptable.”

“What task is that?”

“I’m beginning to regret my choice of you,” she said. She muttered something. Luowski couldn’t hear the words—they sounded like a gibberish, like a foreign language—but there was a soothing chantlike quality to them as well. He felt overwhelmed, like a blanket had been pulled over him. Pleasing, but disturbing. Something he knew better than to trust. Yet he welcomed it.

It was hard to think, like in the moments just before sleep. Luowski’s thoughts were flat and soft. He saw arms wrestling the electrically stunned hyena onto its back; he saw the blade glint above his head. He shuddered as the camera of his imagination pulled back and he recognized the arm holding the knife as his own. He’d killed the poor thing. He couldn’t think, couldn’t grab a single thought. It was as if…

“You will do as I say,” spoke the cracked-glass voice. “You and your accomplice will get in and out with no one the wiser. Including the police. Especially the police. To fail is to disappoint me. I advise strongly against that.