With Willa holding on to his neck for dear life, the two surfed and coughed for air. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, Finn understood that as a hologram he didn’t need to concern himself with breathing; but instinct dictated otherwise.
During the next gulp of air, he saw the Dream’s lights as distinct strings. The sub was pulling closer.
Finn’s hands suddenly appeared, clasped around the periscope. They flashed and pulsed light—then vanished. Finn ducked into the water and closed his eyes. With the next lifting of his head, he clearly saw the hologram images of his arms. He was visible again. Willa, too.
“Return!” she said, gargling the word.
The suggestion hit Finn as a beacon of hope. Philby, a fellow Kingdom Keeper, or Storey Ming, a shipboard ally, would be attempting to cancel their current hologram projections and “return” them to their sleeping selves, on board ship. Having failed to accomplish the task immediately after Finn and Willa jumped, hopefully they had not given up altogether. With Finn and Willa back in range, it was imperative the Return be attempted again.
But how to signal them?
The sub continued to gain on the Dream; the ship’s stern loomed ahead, black paint glistening. An oversized Captain Mickey, sprawled on a plank slung from the upper deck, had been installed on the stern. Mounted next to Mickey and the yellow letters that spelled out DISNEY DREAM were three large Disney brooms and pails from Fantasia.
The sight reminded Finn of a near-deadly conflict Maybeck and Charlene—the final members of the Kingdom Keepers team—had had a week earlier backstage at Disney’s Hollywood Studios. If those brooms come alive too… Finn thought.
He and the Keepers didn’t have a credo, per se, but if they did it might have been: Nothing is as it seems; take nothing for granted. Park attractions came alive at night. Disney characters turned out to be real—and the Disney villains, dangerous. Turns out that magic pens, evil curses, puzzling stairways, corrupt villains, secret passages, and dungeons all existed within the parks. All for real.
Part of Finn was ready to get back to being a normal high school student and leave all of it behind. But in that order. He didn’t want to leave it all behind by drowning.
“You see what I see?” Willa choked out.
At that exact moment, the sub veered off course, steering well to port of the massive ship. The periscope began slipping through Finn’s hands; the sub was submerging. He would have to let go in a matter of seconds or be sucked under.
To signal Philby and Storey for the return, Finn and Willa needed to be spotted from the ship—but without drawing undue attention. Finn needed passengers to notice, for the word to spread quickly, and for it all to be considered a big mistake a few minutes later. He could not invite lifeboats and alarms without drawing attention to the Keepers’ “misuse” of their holograms—an action that might get them locked up for the remainder of the cruise, and prevent them from stopping the OTs.
Finn spotted a romantic couple leaning on the rail of an upper deck, and remembered all the fuss the night of the Sail-Away party.
“Hang on!” he called to Willa, and let go of the pipe just as it sank beneath the surface. Again, Finn sank his face into the water and spoke the Triton code in a loud bubbling voice.
“Starfish wise, starfish cries.”
Willa let go and treaded water.
“NO!” Finn called out, aware of the physics involved. The two were instantly the objects of opposing forces: the concussion of the sub’s propeller wash and the downdraft of currents caused by its rapid descent. Willa was swept back, hands and legs held awkwardly in front of her as though she were crawling. Finn, slightly to the side, was caught in the downdraft, sucked deeper and deeper as he watched Willa zoom away.
For him and Willa to have the best chance for a return, they needed to be together, and they needed to be on the surface. Finn didn’t trust the projection strength underwater, even this close to the Dream. He kicked furiously as he was pulled deeper still. He could feel the water pressure squeezing him smaller, compacting him. He had no idea if even a 2.0 projection could survive such pressure.
His hand struck something hard and slimy. Finn yanked away and kicked out instinctively, spooked by the unyielding darkness of the depths. A shark? It had to be!
The creature impaled him with its snout, striking him in the center of his chest. An instant later, he was struck again, then snagged under both arms—two sharks, not one?—and driven higher. Finn wrestled to be free, but the force of the water and speed of his escorts pinned him to their slick, snot-like skin.
Only as Finn pulled toward the surface, where the moonlight and starlight penetrated, did he finally get a look at his captors. Not sharks. A different nose. Sleek bodies mottled gray and white. Spotted dolphins, fast as lightning, streaking for the surface.