Kingdom Keepers V (9781423153429) (10 page)

T
he first sign of something wrong was the sound of machinery. Initially, it was just pops and clunks. But when that was followed by the sound of water—a lot of water—Finn's insides turned to Jell-O. He lay on the surfboard atop the calm water, chilled and feeling both vulnerable and alone. Lingering at the back of his mind was a question that echoed every few minutes: why had Wayne sent him into a park that didn't offer DHI projection? Prior to the upgrade he'd possessed the ability to picture a pinprick of light at the end of a tunnel and, presto chango, his arms and legs would tingle and he'd be nothing but pure light.
All clear
. The condition hadn't lasted long, but it had gotten him out of some serious situations. Since the DHI 2.0 upgrade, he'd been unable to go
all clear
. Floating like a cork in the middle of a huge pool, wooden walls rising thirty feet on three sides of him, a spillway beach behind him, he was wishing for the chance to go
all clear
.

He'd seen the Surf Pool in action before. When the dam that was now in front of him belched, out came waves anywhere from three to ten feet high. Alone and slightly afraid of the sounds building up on the far side of the dam, it felt to him more like it should be called Tsunami Canyon rather than Surf Pool.

Mixed into the gurgle of water were the distant sounds of voices saying “Good night.” The last Cast Member passed out of the gate. A car started up and drove off. He hoped his mother was paying attention.

Dread flooded him, followed by the realization that a shadow was stretched across the water's surface. He glanced up toward the guard shack to see a figure there. Silhouetted. Indistinguishable. It stepped back and out of sight, taking its shadow with it.

The wall unleashed a flood tide. It wasn't a single wave, as he'd seen before, but a divided wave, phenomenally high on either side, nonexistent in the center. The waves, fifteen feet up the side walls, crawled forward. A leading ripple lifted Finn's board several feet. Then the side waves rose even higher and rushed to join in the center, forming a white-capped plume of surging water that foamed and raced directly for Finn.

The front of his board jerked straight up. He clung to the sides as it rose like a rocket, crested, and slid down the opposite side. The rush of water nearly stripped off his suit. It hit his face so hard it forced his mouth open and he thought he might drown. He couldn't see. He fought to hold on; the surfboard's leash remained around his right ankle. The pool churning water, foam, and spray. Behind him, the huge wave crashed to shore.

Slowly the water calmed and, as it did, the gurgling began again. He didn't dare paddle for land—he wouldn't make it in time, and the next wave would carry him and throw him into the pool furniture on the beach. His only hope, as Melanie had coached, was to face forward and ride over the waves. So he turned the surfboard around and paddled furiously for the center of the pool. Just as he arrived, he heard a second ferocious belch and knew that this wave would be even bigger than the first. He pivoted the board in time to see it coming.

Not possible…it wasn't a wave, but a wall of water peaked in the center in an inverted V. The peak aimed right for him. What had Wayne gotten him into?

He tried paddling backward. There was no way he'd make it up and over that mountain. It was going to own him. It was going to pick him up like a cork and throw him clear out of the park. He'd probably splat on the windshield of his mother's car like a moth caught on the highway. Here, Mrs. Whitman, say hi to your son.…

The towering peak of surging spray and foam came at him as if rocket-boosted.

At that moment, when all hope seemed lost, when the peak of the wave loomed overhead, bending and licking its hungry tongue at Finn, the spikes of white foam split apart and seemed to become stationary points of what looked like a fountain. Water cascaded from the spikes of the fountain, revealing huge clumps of seaweed.

Finn back-paddled away from the thing. It wasn't seaweed. That had been an optimistic assessment. Because it was…hair. Yards of it in massive tangles—looking like dripping vines covering an enormous stone statue. But it wasn't stone. It was flesh. Gray flesh. Craggy, disgusting flesh chiseled into the shape of a man's eyes, nose, and then consumed by a beard. The water poured off as the head seemed to rise from the water, followed by shoulders covered with a cape, then a massive chest and arms. The giant held a staff in his right hand, and it was only by recognizing its three golden tines pointed like arrows that Finn knew who this was. The staff was a trident, and it belonged to King Triton.

“You're kidding me,” he muttered as he fought to turn the surfboard around to get out of this pool.

“Name yourself!” The voice was a low rumble nearly indistinguishable from the distant gurgle of water as the wave generator refilled behind the giant.

There was no escaping. Finn reversed the board and faced Triton. Why hadn't Wayne warned him?

“Finn,” he muttered.

“Louder!”

He shouted his name.

“Full name!”

“Lawrence Finnegan Whitman.”

“State your purpose.”

“Ah…a friend sent me.” But Finn was now wondering why.

“Indeed. A friend to us all.”

King Triton knew Wayne?

“He is the keeper of the magic,” Triton said.

If you say so, Finn was thinking, but didn't say. “Indeed!” He tried sticking to the king's vocabulary. He wasn't sure about the etiquette of speaking with royalty. He didn't want to insult a guy this big.

The pool water continued to drip off the giant, but the wave pool was settling down to a violent chop as waves rebounded off the walls and spread out onto the beach area, sloshing ashore and lifting furniture into a junk pile.

“He seeks protection for you, our friend does,” said Triton.

“Ah…” Finn wasn't sure what the king was talking about. “Protection?”

“Your voyage in my kingdom.”

Triton ruled the sea. A voyage…? The cruise! “Yes, sir.”

“Like me, the creatures in my kingdom are bigger than those in yours. Our domain is vast. Unchangeable, horizon to horizon. There is much to protect. Your people poison mine. They hunt with invisible line and nets that stretch for miles. With harpoons. Oil rigs. They make war above and below. They stretch my resources.”

That last part didn't sound terribly kinglike. He wondered if kings read newspapers. He supposed a king did whatever a king wanted to do, though he couldn't be certain.

“What is it you want?” Finn said.

When a giant laughed, it turned out, the ground shook—or, in this case, the pool sloshed.

“I am king. And I am old. My wants are few. You, on the other hand, Mr. Lawrence Finnegan Whitman, your needs and wants are many. You should know my agents will never be far from you and your crew. As the wise one has requested.”

“When we're on the ship.”

“When you are anywhere within or upon my kingdom, I or my agents shall never be far away.”

“Thank you.”

“The porpoise and frigate birds will monitor your progress. When the flying fish are near, I am not far away. The code is simple: ‘Starfish wise, starfish cries.'”

“The code…” Finn said, having little idea what he meant.

“To summon my assistance. Starfish are never far away. They are the fastest way to reach me.”

“Seriously?” It just slipped out.

“You are only to summon me if it is serious. That goes without saying. But it must be spoken into water. The summons spoken in air is of no use.”

“What about the frigate birds?” Finn said. “Can't they hear us, too?”

“You dare question my knowledge of my own kingdom? The insolence!” The king waved his trident. A wide circle of water rose around Finn and closed at the top like the peak of a teepee, trapping Finn inside.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” Finn cried out.

“Speak into the water!” the king hollered. As he lowered the trident, the peak of water lowered as well, about to drown Finn.

Finn slipped his head off the board and bubbled water as he said, “Sorry!
Sorry!
”

The water funnel collapsed, smashing into Finn and knocking him off the board. He struggled back atop and held on for dear life.

“‘Starfish wise, starfish cries,'” the king repeated. “We will do everything in our power to assist or rescue you and your crew if summoned.”

“My friends,” Finn said.

“Our powers are not inconsiderable.”

“And what do you want in return?” Finn asked.

The giant blinked for the first time, spraying Finn with excess water.

“I mean, isn't that the way it works?” Finn asked. “You offer protection in exchange for something?”

“You mock me?”

The waters churned as if a strong wind were blowing.

“No! I just thought…I mean…if you're willing to protect us, well, I thought you must want something from us.”

“Indeed! It is true. It is often the way as you say.”

“Like Ursula's necklace or something.”

“Do not mention
—
!”

But it was too late. Finn wished someone would tell him the rules before he messed things up. Wayne always left too much to chance. Apparently by just speaking the name of Triton's nemesis, Ursula, Finn had done something wrong. Very wrong.

The water boiled at Triton's tail. It bubbled and—this seemed impossible—steamed, and the random churning of the choppy waves began to take form. First the surface smoothed. Then it formed into concentric ridges, as thick and wide as the back of a coiling sea serpent. The surfboard spun clockwise; for a moment Finn faced the guard shack, then the high wall, then the beach and the park entrance in the distance. He spun ever faster, his rotation increasing. The back of the serpent rose wider and higher; the water beneath the surfboard took the shape of a funnel. Now Finn saw what was actually happening. A hole opened beneath him and a whirlpool formed.

The king hoisted the trident and shook the hair off his wide neck.

“Away from this place!”
he shouted.

Finn thought he had to be talking to him, but in the middle of being sucked down some drain, he was in no shape to reply. The whirlpool's walls were now twelve feet high, his surfboard spinning as fast as a pinwheel in a hurricane.

“Do…something…” he mumbled, feeling green. Then he stuck his face into the water.
“Help!”
he gurgled.

The surfboard spun even faster.

A purple-skinned, fat-lipped ugly the size of two side-by-side tractor-trailer trucks stood on end, with jowly upper arms, rose out of the pool and faced Triton. There was nothing cartoony about her. Instead she looked like the result of an octopus breeding with a cow. Her skin wasn't so much purple as it was translucent, revealing a tight spiderweb of veins pumping rust-colored blood on top of muscle tissue the color of eggplant. The skin looked gooey. Her face sagged and bulged and re-formed with each little movement. Her body was considerable. If you took all the Jell-O in the world and shaped it into a sand castle of the ugliest woman you could ever imagine, you'd have the second-ugliest woman ever imagined. The first was occupying a space in the pool a few yards from Triton.

These two were not strangers to one another. They were more like divorced husband and wife.

“You called?” the big blob said.

“Your presence is unwanted,” Triton said.

“But I didn't bring you any presents,” Ursula said, twisting his words. She chuckled at her own joke, throwing three-foot waves off her belly.

Finn was now nearly at the bottom of the whirlpool spout, spinning like a propeller. Through the silver walls of water he saw squidlike creatures with the same strange translucent skin as Ursula's. Their heads were like manatees, but with puckered fish lips and bulging eyes. Inside the fish lips, rows of razor-sharp teeth showed. They circled the whirlpool like hungry alley cats on the other side of a wobbly fence. One poked its head through the shimmering wall of water and snapped at Finn. It missed, but caught the whirling surfboard and bit off a chunk, spitting it out immediately but leaving a few teeth behind. It retreated through the wall. But others took its place, snapping at Finn and then retreating. If he fell off the board he was chum for the making.

The sides of the whirlpool began collapsing. It was going to fold in on itself, like a hole dug in wet beach sand. With Finn at the bottom. He needed a way out. Now!

He rose up onto the board, first to knees, then—tentatively—to standing. He spread his feet, his left out in front, his right perpendicular to him and behind. He leaned left. The board's nose caught the spinning vortex and jerked hard. Finn danced to keep his balance. With the board aimed against the clockwise spinning motion, it screwed up higher, lifting off the churning floor of the whirlpool and rising with the board half inside the current, half outside. The water dropped out from under him, dumping him back to the bottom, and Finn started again, slowly getting the hang of how much board to allow in the wall. He began to rise from the depths.