“This is crazy,” Philby whispered. “The place is huge. Maybeck could be anywhere.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Finn said. “Agreed, it’s huge, but look around. Where are you going to hide him?” Now that his eyes had fully adjusted, he could make out the size and scope of the complicated track. But it was all exposed and open—not a good place to hide someone.

“Hey!” Finn said, holding out his hand. Seeing his hand.

“Yeah,” Philby said, “I know.” But he moved his own arm around to show Finn that the metal broke up the imaging. His arm appeared to be in pieces, separated by black stripes. The DHI projection in here was spotty at best.

“You take that side,” he instructed Philby. “We’ll meet in the middle over there.” He pointed out a low spot in the ride where the track turned sharply left.

“If something goes wrong,” Philby cautioned, “we get out of here and meet at the apartment.”

“Got it.”

Finn descended yet another ladder and then followed a catwalk toward one of the exit signs, using it as a beacon. The catwalks reminded him of submarine movies.

If he were hiding someone, Finn thought, he’d stash his hostage close to where guests made the most noise—in a place where any shouts for help would likely go unheard. Finn searched the track overhead for just such a spot. Then he leaned over the rail of the catwalk and looked below.

Not far below him, and slightly to his left, he noticed an indistinct dark shape that, as he approached, he realized was geometric: a large rectangle. Now he recognized it as a booth or storage room. Like the catwalks, its walls were of heavy wire mesh. Finn climbed over the rail, lowered himself and dropped to a catwalk below. He reached out and touched the wire mesh—it was covered in a greasy dust that stuck to his fingers. It looked like a large garden shed, about six feet tall, ten feet deep, and fifteen feet long.

On the front of the shed a heavy canvas was hung that prevented Finn from seeing inside.

The canvas was tied down on the inside. Finn located the only door, which was wood-framed and also covered with wire mesh. He felt his way down the door and struck a piece of heavy metal: a padlock.

Locked out.

“Pssst!” Finn tried to signal Philby but got no answer. Finn looked around, off into the dark, realizing he’d completely lost track of his friend. He tried again. “Pssst!”

A muffled voice made him spin around: it was coming from inside the screened shed.

“Philby!” Finn tried again, a little louder. He heard the scuffle of feet.

“Mmms…hmmm…heggg…warfff,” said the muffled voice behind him.

“Maybeck? It’s me, Finn!” Finn struggled with the lock again, and then remembered: he didn’t need to unlock the door.

Finn closed his eyes and concentrated on his being made of light, nothing but light, and he walked through the wall, just as he’d swum through the water without feeling the effect of the current.

Once through, he realized how much darker it was inside the shed because of the canvas.

Finn felt his way around, stepping over boxes and coils and pieces of metal.

The muffled calls for help became more urgent.

“I’m right here,” Finn said, turning toward the sound.

Close by now, Finn squatted, felt around, and touched an arm.

He jumped back, fell over and knocked something loose, making a loud sound.

“Nnnnnnnn,” said Maybeck. Wiggling as he was, a piece of Maybeck’s DHI, his left side, suddenly showed. Finn lunged forward and untied the gag.

“Oh, man,” Maybeck said, the gag slipping off.

“You okay?”

“No, I’m famished! And I’m thirsty. But thank you, man, thank you!”

Finn untied Maybeck’s wrists and ankles.

Maybeck said, “Let’s book it.”

“We gotta find Philby. He’s in here someplace, looking for you too.”

Maybeck pulled on the locked door, but it didn’t budge. “But how’d you…?”

“Right through the wall,” Finn explained.

“That’s fine for you, but what about me? I can’t go through a dumb wall.”

“Sure you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You’re going to have to.”

Maybeck stared at the dark canvas and the locked door. “Are you telling me I could have just walked out of here all along?”

“Not if you’d convinced yourself you were trapped,” Finn replied.

Maybeck reached out. His hand struck the canvas.

“You’ve got to lose the attitude, Maybeck,” Finn instructed. “You’re only hitting that wallbecause you think that’s what’s supposed to happen.”

“I don’t have an attitude.” He waited for some support from Finn. “Do I?”

Finn demonstrated. First, he reached out and touched the canvas; then, he reached over a second time, and his hand and forearm passed right through up to his elbow.

“I do not have an attitude,” Maybeck repeated.

“Prove it,” Finn said. He was worried about the noise Philby was making trying to get over to the shed. The bumps and bangs seemed amplified in this echo chamber.

On Maybeck’s sixth try, he walked through the wallof the enclosure. Once on the other side, he bent over, as if in pain.

“You okay?” Finn asked.

Giddy with the accomplishment, Maybeck started giggling. “What a dumb jerk! I could have walked out of there all along.”

“Not with your hands tied. That rope is from this side. The rope would have stopped you from getting through the wall.”

Maybeck blurted out. “It was Jez.”

“What was Jez?”

“She called,” Maybeck said.

“Called your house,” Finn said, having figured out some of this on his own. “Last night, just before you crossed over.”

“Said she’d meet me.”

“When you checked your watch…” Finn said, speculating. “The line you fed us about having a hot date…You really did have a hot date.”

“I ditched the girls at It’s a Small World. We were going to meet—Jez and me—at the carousel. But all of a sudden I was so cold. I could barely move—like slow motion.”

“Yeah, cold,” Finn said. He was thinking: been there, done that.

25

For nearly a week, the kids met inside the park after going to bed, but only for a matter of minutes. As quickly as possible they would use the button to return home, having looked for no more clues. They caught up on sleep. They did their homework. They rejoined their families.

Maybeck’s abduction had worn them out and frightened them to the point of not wanting to continue. They overcame their reluctance only when Philby showed up at one of their meetings telling of a newspaper story he’d read about an electrical company power station that had been

“attacked” and drained of all its power.

“It’s not a coincidence,” he told the others. “This is spreading beyond the park.”

On Saturday morning, the girls decided to use their complimentary passes to enter the Magic Kingdom legally. As kids, not DHIs. That felt safer. They wore disguises in order to keep fans from spotting them and carried 3-D glasses to wear on the rides.

As they stood outside, waiting to board The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, a cartoony voice came over the speakers saying, “Happy winds day.” It was this, and other references on the ride, that had led them to pick it as the most wind-oriented ride in the park. Wind was the third clue in the Stonecutter’s fable.

They sat down in the car, and the ride began. Black lights made their teeth glow white and their skin and clothing almost disappear.

“Glasses,” Willa announced, donning hers. Charlene followed. “You look right. I’ll look left,”

Willa coached. “If we see any letters—big letters in an unexpected place—we’re supposed to write them down.”

Charlene said, “I’ve got it.” She sounded nervous, and Willa understood her concern. The rides had been anything but friendly since this hunt had begun.