“No, probably not,” Finn said. “But it’s also not worth the risk. At the very worst, we wait until they try to move the tigers. If we’re right, they’ll open the hatches at that point. Jez will get out of there. Our jobs will be to distract the tigers so Jez doesn’t get attacked.”

“Tiger bait?” Amanda asked, horrified. “Your plan is to use us as tiger bait?”

“My plan is to rescue Jez. At the very worst, we wait out the Park’s closing.”

“Let’s look for a maintenance entrance,” Amanda encouraged. “If it actually exists, it can’t be far from the bridge.”

“Agreed. And Charlene promises not to jump the wall,” Finn said, looking up at her. “I would suggest you scout the perimeter looking for other hatches, gates, or anything else we should know about.”

“I can do that. But I can also—”

“Don’t even think about it,” Finn said, interrupting her.

Amanda and Finn set off down the path toward the tiger bridge. At Finn’s suggestion, they kept a few yards apart in case they came under attack from the Overtakers. They sharpened their senses, alert to what was overhead and all around them for anything out of the ordinary—especially monkeys and orangutans.

They scouted both tiger yards from an old Indian temple made of stone and plaster, which was at the top of the tiger bridge. Amanda stared out the window that matched what Jez had sketched in the diary. An enormous tiger was stretched out in the shade about twenty feet below and across the yard. She couldn’t see the trapdoor from where she stood but could place it just to her left in her mind’s eye. She switched sides and kept looking around.

Finn patrolled the center of the bridge, also switching sides and looking into both tiger yards. He’d hoped to see a manhole cover in the path—some indication of maintenance access—but there was none.

“I think I have something,” Amanda said from behind him. She faced some plants and a beautiful section of the wall, where four large stone panels had been carved, each depicting a unique scene. Finn recalled these from having seen them earlier, and he said so.

“I don’t think we should be seen staring, so I’m going to turn my back, but check out the second panel,” Amanda said, spinning around.

“The owl!” Finn said. “And the elephant with the headdress.”

“Both of which she sketched in her diary,” Amanda reminded.

“It’s a secret panel,” Finn said. “The access to the tunnel.”

“We don’t know that,” Amanda protested.

“Screen me,” Finn said. “I’m going back there and looking for some kind of switch to open it. The way it’s on the corner, it’s perfect for maintenance, because you’re hidden to start with. No one’s going to see me, but just to make sure…”

“I’ve got you covered,” Amanda said.

Finn slipped into the vegetation and stepped into shadow. The ground here was disturbed, and he noticed several large shoeprints in the mud, convincing him all the more that they were right about this.

He ran his hand along the edge of one of the large stone panels, hoping to find some kind of trigger. Nothing. He tapped on it lightly. It sounded hollow. “This has got to be it,” he hissed. “But I can’t find anything to open it.”

“Try the owl,” Amanda called over her shoulder.

Of course! he thought. He stretched to reach the owl, opened his hand, and pushed. The tile with the owl moved. The panel clicked and popped open an inch. Finn threaded his fingers behind it and pulled. It was incredibly heavy.

“I’ve got it!” he announced.

But behind the panel he saw a metal gate. And the gate was padlocked. This helped explain why, if Jez had found this entrance, she’d been unable to get out.

He didn’t hesitate for a moment. Understanding the risk he took, Finn flushed all thought from his mind. He was neither anxious nor excited. Neither angry nor tired nor hungry. He felt the now familiar tingling in his arms and legs and witnessed a slight glow on the back of the stone panel that hung open: he had crossed over. He stepped through the wrought-iron gate, his glow illuminating a dank, stone stairway that spiraled down to his left. He turned around, his DHI already fading as fear crept into him. Fear of the dark. Fear of the unknown. He was himself again. He reached through the gate and grabbed a heavy iron handle on the inside of the panel. He pulled with all his strength, and the massive stone door clicked shut.

He’d acted a little too hastily: it was pitch dark.

He couldn’t see a thing.

52

FINN FELT HIS WAY DOWN the damp stones as the stairs beneath him fell away in a spiral to his left. It smelled at once of dust and mold, like his grandparents’ basement. He counted the stairs as he went: ten, eleven, twelve… before they leveled off. He walked on the flat now, straight ahead, his left hand skimming a rock wall, the occasional cobweb tangling in his fingers and making him jump. Finn didn’t like spiders.

The sound of his running shoes scraping the concrete changed; he could feel he was in a more open area. His vision, which had shown him nothing but sparkles and curlicues, improved to where he could make out a haze both to his left and right. It hung in the air like a gray mist. And now, slowly forming, a lump, an interruption in the mist. An imperfection in the horseshoe-shaped glow that continued to define itself.

“Jez?” he called out softly.

The lump moved. He thought it might have turned in his direction.

He called her name again, this time a little more loudly.

“If you’re a dream, go away!” Jez’s voice!

“It’s Finn,” he said, taking steps toward her, his hand still guiding him along the wall.

“Why can’t I wake up?” she muttered.

Finn felt good. His heart swelled in his chest. It was not simply the pride of success, of beating the odds and finally finding her. It went beyond that, to something more. He felt an importance in being here. A significance. He was saving Jez. He was doing something that really mattered, not just studying or wasting time on his computer. It gave meaning to all the effort they had gone to, all the risks they had taken.

And then the tunnel filled with a colorful glow, like a light warming up. And it was a light warming up. His light. His DHI. It filled his end of the tunnel, and what had been a lump of darkness transformed into Jezebel. She stood up from her slumped position looking almost angelic and came toward him slowly, as if she were floating. He couldn’t sustain his DHI, and it vanished. He pulled out the BlackBerry, using its glowing screen as a flashlight.

He thought of her as having jet black hair and bone white, almost translucent, skin. Intriguing eyes. That had been how she’d looked when he’d first met her on the Sports Complex soccer field, what seemed like years earlier. In fact, it had only been a matter of months. But Jez had made a radical transformation when Maleficent’s spell had been lifted. Her hair was now a shocking blond—almost white. Her thin lips shined luminously red.

She came into his arms, like a young child hugging a parent, and then let go.

In the BlackBerry’s weird light, they both looked vaguely blue.

“I didn’t think…” she stammered. “I hoped and even prayed, though I’m not very good at praying…I wired up the iPod but couldn’t be sure…”

“Amanda found a page in your diary,” he explained. “We followed your sketches.”

“I don’t even remember what I drew.”

“Dreams,” Finn said. “Amanda said it was what you dreamed.”

“Nightmares is more like it. I’ve had them here as well—down here in the dark.”

She explained the ordeal she’d been through. It was much as the Kingdom Keepers had come to suspect: her detention on the savannah; her escape, which turned on a mistake made by one of the monkeys; her flight across the savannah and over a wall that turned out to be the tiger yard. The early morning release of the big cats and her finding herself following one down a wooden hatch and into the tunnel while being stalked by another left behind in the upper yard.