Kingdom Keepers VI(53)

Worse, it wasn’t so controllable. That’s what the freaks who controlled the Fairlies were trying to figure out. How could she harness it? How could they use her? At parties for foreign diplomats? In train stations where they suspected a bomber? At political functions? To manipulate the stock market? They needed her, and by now they would be looking for her, big-time. For now, Mattie felt safe—though at every port, she panicked, terrified that they’d board, looking for her.

She shook her head clear. She had work to do. The fact that she couldn’t control her powers meant that in a flesh jam, like the one out on Vibe’s deck, she might experience a dozen connections. More! It would feel like being spun in the dark wearing a blindfold, only to peek out every few seconds. It would make her sick. It would be frightening.

But when…if…she found him, it would all be worth it.

* * *

From Deck 11, passengers waved at the Panamanians greeting them. Crowds estimated at more than ten thousand lined up along the first lock alone.

Cheers rose over the Disney music blaring from shipboard speakers. Disney characters waved down to the crowds.

Both sides shot video and took pictures of the historic event.

Robotic tugs crept forward, matching the ship’s crawling speed, keeping it centered in the new, wider canals.

A miniature Disney blimp—an unmanned drone—hummed above the scene. There were many hours yet to go, but if the rest of the day lived up to the start, it was going to be one of the greatest celebrations ever.

* * *

Storey Ming led Philby and Willa down the I-95 corridor, having instilled in them the importance of walking with purpose. If a Cast Member looked lost, he would be easily spotted as an outsider. To give the impression they were old hands, the three carried on a conversation, complaining to one another about not being topside enjoying the festivities. They passed no officers, only other Cast Members who paid no attention to them. Eventually, Storey Ming directed the two into a companionway of steep stairs.

“This is where I leave you. You go down two landings.” She continued with directions to the bakery, from which they could make their way to yet another companionway leading to the ship’s stores—the warehousing of the dry goods.

“I know my way from there,” Willa declared. She remembered a visit to the galleys a few days earlier.

“Up to the galley,” Storey said.

“Yes.”

“The main galley serves both the Royal Palace and the Animator’s Palate. You don’t belong there, so if someone stops you, tell them Herman sent you on an errand.”

“Herman?”

“One of the chefs. No one messes with what Herman wants,” Storey said. “He…Willa? What’s wrong?” The girl had gone an ashen pale.

“Nothing,” Willa said, clearly lying.

Philby placed his hand on her shoulder. “It won’t happen again. I promise.” He explained to Storey, “She and Finn were attacked by doughboys the last time she was in the galley.”

“Doughboys?”

“Giant doughboys,” Willa whispered. “Freaky doughboys.”

“But you all,” Storey said, “have been attacked by all sorts of creatures, right?”

“The doughboys are creepy,” Willa said. “You know how some people don’t like snakes? Give me a snake any day over a doughboy.”

“Everything’s good,” Philby said encouragingly. He briefly repeated the directions to Storey, making sure he had them right. He thanked her.

Together, Philby and Willa headed down the steep metal stairs. A moment later, they faced the door to the bakery.

“You okay?” Philby asked.

“No,” Willa answered, “not really. I mean, of all the places, it had to be the bakery, right?”

“We can’t look scared,” he said.

“You mean I can’t look scared.”

Philby said nothing.

“But I am. They were…creepy.” She paused. “And huge.”

“We have to look as if we belong.”

“As if.”

Voices arrived behind them—someone coming down the stairs.

“Now or never,” he said.

“Never?” she asked.

Philby opened the door.

The ship’s bakery was all stainless steel and white tile. Large commercial kitchen appliances crowded the interior. A petite woman and a large man, both in uniforms, white aprons, and chefs’ hats, looked up from their duties.

“Herman wants us,” Philby said, pointing across the room.

“Sorry to bother you,” Willa said.

“Not bother,” said the man in a foreign accent. He smiled. He was missing a front tooth.

Willa was fidgety, remembering the twin six-foot doughboys that had attacked her and Finn with butchers’ cleavers. Philby held the door for her; they passed into the galley—a vast space of preparation tables and, along the back wall, huge ranges and ovens. Willa had been here before; but for Professor Philby, it was like a research field trip—he was instantly fascinated by the size and scope of the ship’s kitchen. Then it struck him: they had work to do.