On the captain’s command, his men charged as a unit. Finn aimed for their knees in a brilliant display of gunnery. They staggered. Several fell. The captain ordered a retreat, and Finn held his fire.

Blackbeard, his eyes darting weirdly back and forth, reached for, but then decided against, the sword that hung at his waist. He clucked his tongue in disappointment. “Ye’ve made a terrible mistake, lad. Me advice for ye is, go back from whence you came. And take them there other two with ye. For yer own good.” His mechanical facial expression never changed. He made no more threats—not with Finn still perched behind the laser. He simply turned and walked away. He did not run, did not hurry, Finn noted. He headed down the path and, a moment later, was gone, out of sight. His pirates dragged themselves and their other fallen mates off with them.

Finn released his hold on the laser, his fingers stiff from gripping so tightly. His shirt bore a small charred hole. The burn on his arm was now a blistered scab. He’d hoped he might only have imagined it—but no: it hurt something fierce.

He climbed out of the car.

“Way to go,” Charlene said simply, trying not to sound too impressed.

Philby approached, and Finn thanked him for the diversion.

The two shook hands. It felt to Finn as if that handshake represented a pact between them.

They were in this together now.

To celebrate what he called their “first victory,” Wayne offered them ice-cream bars from a food kiosk. He carried a heavy-looking ring with dozens of keys of all shapes and sizes with which he unlocked the kiosk.

Finn sat down on a bench. Wayne handed him his ice-cream sandwich, and Finn tore off the paper and bit into the treat. He tasted it, though it wasn’t nearly as sweet as it should have been.

Maybe he was only half human, he thought.

“What about Willa and Maybeck?” Charlene asked, enjoying her ice cream.

Finn devoured the ice-cream sandwich. With his mouth full he said, “No clue.”

Charlene explained, “Me and Philby met here in the park the other night. We haven’t found each other…you know…on the outside yet. Not like the way you found me. But here we are.”

Her mention of “the outside” sent shivers up Finn’s spine.

Philby said, “I don’t seem to remember as much as Charlene when I wake up. I’m not sure why. But you know, I’ve never really remembered my dreams, so maybe that’s part of it.”

“But this isn’t a dream,” Finn reminded him.

“I know that now,” Philby said. “But I didn’t know that earlier.”

“This will all change,” Wayne said. “The more you cross over, the more it will feel familiar to you.”

“Cross over,” Philby repeated.

“Weird, huh?” Finn said.

Wayne’s hand slipped into his pocket.

“No!” Finn called out, knowing the man intended to send him back to his bed. “You owe us an explanation first.”

“I need you all together,” Wayne said.

Finn said, “You have the three of us. That will have to do. When—if—we’re ever all together, then fine, you can explain it again. But I just got burned on my arm by a group of…”

“Pirates,” Philby said. “Mechanical pirates.”

“Mechanical pirates that could talk and take orders,” Charlene added.

“Yes. Pirates,” Finn said. “Pirates you can’t see, as I understand it. And I don’t understand it.

And I’ll stay up, dusk to dawn, if I have to, in order to figure this out. And, if you don’t tell us what this is about, you won’t see me again.”

“Or me,” Philby said.

“Or me,” Charlene agreed.

“It’s now or never,” Finn declared.

The old man looked paler by a good deal. Some bird off in the thick of green cooed deeply.

Finn felt like they were being watched.

“All right,” Wayne said, smiling. He glanced around suspiciously. “Come with me.”

They followed. After a bit of a walk, Wayne unlocked and admitted them into the auditorium for the Country Bear Jamboree. He placed the three kids in the first row. Then he walked through the dark space and checked all the doors. He returned to the front of the hall and leaned against the stage to address them.

“There’s a fine line between imagination and reality. An inventor dreams something up, and pretty soon, it’s there on the table before him. A science-fiction writer envisions another world, and then some space probe finds it. If you believe in something strongly enough, I think you can make it happen.”

“That’s a good thing,” Finn said.

Wayne asked, “But what if we believe in witches and villains? If we believe as strongly in Wayne asked, “But what if we believe in witches and villains? If we believe as strongly in things like them…can we make them happen?”

“You’re giving me the creeps.”

“This park, this wonderful place, makes both sides happen—the good and the bad. Some of Walt’s stories go back generations. Hundreds of years. Cinderella. Snow White. We see similar stories in many different cultures across the globe. What if these stories were once true? If they were real, passed down from generation to generation? Different cultures experiencing similar things? And if they were real, are real? If the hero and heroine go off to live happily ever after, then what happens to the villains, witches, sea monsters, and evil stepmothers?”

Finn said, “You’re saying that because the park makes them real, they are real?”

“I’m saying if you believe strongly enough, anything can happen, and millions of people, kids and adults, visit this park—all the Disney parks, the cruise line, the Broadway shows, the Web sites, Disney on Ice—every year. And they—”

“Believe,” Finn said.

“In the bad and the good,” Charlene said.

“Exactly. Yes, they do. And there’s power in that belief,” Wayne said.

“So?” Philby asked.

“So you know your history. What is inevitable once evil gains power?”

Philby answered, “It wants more. Empires. Wars. That kind of stuff.”

“We call them the Overtakers,” Wayne whispered.

Finn felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Who?” Philby asked, also in a whisper.

“We—the Imagineers, I’m talking about—needed something mortal, something part…a hybrid…that could cross over to the character world. That’s what we call it: crossing over. We’ve suspected for years that the characters ‘come alive’—if you will —once the gates are closed.

We’ve had evidence of this for some time. But when the trouble started happening, we knew we needed…you—someone who could see the Overtakers. Interact with them. Stop them.”

“This is crazy,” Charlene mumbled.

“Walt knew the time would come. The world gets out of balance. The dark forces rule. History is full of such times. They can last hundreds of years unchecked. It’s like a plague, this dark thought. There’s no music. No art. Only tyranny and war. Madness.”

Charlene said, “I think I’ve heard enough. I’d like to wake up now. In my own bed. ”

Wayne continued, “You asked to hear this. So listen.”

The kids remained seated, their full attention on Wayne.

“As I said, Walt knew such a time would come. He left us a treasure map, for a scavenger hunt, something the Overtakers could not easily figure out, even if they obtained it, which they never have. Most of them are machines, you see—audio-animatronics and figures from attractions. Only a handful can think, can communicate. But they control the others.”

“The Stonecutter’s Quill,” Finn mumbled. Wayne had mentioned it the first time they’d met.

“The what?” Philby asked.

“It’s a fable,” Wayne said. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. We must wait for the others.”

“I, for one,” Charlene said, “am never coming back. So if you’ve got something to say, you’d better say it.”

Wayne paced as he talked. “Think about it. The Pirates, Maleficent, Cruella DeVil, Ursula—all with so much belief fueling them, belief, to draw upon. It was inevitable, I suppose.”