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“It’s an elevator floor,” Maybeck said. “A platform.”
The overhead constellations grew closer. As they reached the Big Dipper, Fi
“You gotta love this,” Philby said.
“I don’t have to,” Charlene protested, sounding a little frightened.
The floor stopped. Fi
They entered a small apartment, full of old furniture in pastel colors, like something from Fi
“Welcome to Walt’s secret hideaway,” Wayne said.
Three phones hung from the wall: red, blue, and yellow. Philby studied them.
“Never touch any of those,” Wayne advised, eyeing each of the kids.
Charlene peered out the small hole in the window. “Beautiful,” she said. That led to each of the kids taking a turn, oohing and ahhing.
Wayne waited for them to face him. It was a small apartment with barely enough room for the six of them.
“You were each picked for a reason, or you wouldn’t be here,” he said. “Our selection of the DHIs was careful to the point of painstaking. We’ve brought you here to help us. I’m going to share a story with you. A fable. It’s something that has been in my care a long, long time. Walt entrusted me with this, and it has been in my head ever since. All fables have names. This one is called The Stonecutter and, as it turns out, has been around a few thousand years. But take note: Walt called it The Stonecutter’s Quill. It’s up to you to find out why he added quill to the name. But here’s the story. I believe it to be the key to stopping the forces that are gathering.”
The kids looked for places to sit. Willa took a chair. Charlene and Philby the couch. Maybeck sat on the floor. Fi
No one said a word. Wayne had their full attention.
“It was a hot, sweltering day, and the stonecutter balanced on his haunches, chisel and hammer in hand, streams of sweat ru
“How wonderful it must be to have the power of the sun, he thought. If I were the sun, no one could resist me! I wish I were the sun!
“In an instant, he found himself looking down on the earth, beating on it with his heat and energy. He was the sun, and he liked the way he touched everything and everyone below him without mercy. In his presence, people would be thirsty, they would be hot, and they would always know he was there.
“Suddenly, he realized that there was something impeding him. He could not touch the earth with his power. He looked down and saw that a cloud had interposed itself between him and the earth.
“Hmm, he thought. In spite of my great power, there is something that thwarts me. Surely this cloud is mightier than I am. I wish I were the cloud!
“And in an instant, he found he was the cloud, and he could block the sun all day long. What’s more, he could rain on those below him, bringing cold, eroding buildings, drowning what he pleased. Surely there was nothing more powerful than he was now!
“But he felt himself being swayed, and quite without his consent, he was being pushed and he could not resist the movement. He found that the wind was blowing him to the side, and he saw that because he could not defy it, it was mightier than him. How I wish I were the wind! he thought.
“And he was. Where he blew, huge trees bent. He could push great walls of water where he pleased. He could topple the tallest, most majestic buildings. Surely he was all-powerful now.
“But as he swept across the world, he came across something that stopped him. He looked and realized that the mountain before him could not be penetrated. As hard as he might blow against it, he could not push it to the side. Look how it resists me! he thought. Surely this mountain is mightier than me. I wish I were the mountain!
“And he was. He sat, imperial and bold, tall and proud, bolted to the earth, and he knew that there was nothing in all the world that could move him, could destroy him, or could overcome him.
He was the mightiest thing of all.
“But then he realized something. From somewhere far below, he felt he was being reduced.
He was being destroyed—torn apart—quite against his wishes, and he could do nothing about it.
What is there mightier than a mountain? he asked himself. Not the sun, the cloud, or the wind…
What could it be?
“With great effort, he looked down, and there, far below, at his very base…
“He saw a stonecutter.”
The kids said nothing, focused on Wayne expectantly.
Wayne said, “The things in the story you need to focus on are the sun, cloud, wind, and stone. At least we’re pretty sure about that. Note the order. All four of these themes are seen repeatedly in the Magic Kingdom. Somehow they are meant to lead us to a solution, a way to defeat the darker powers that have begun to threaten the park.”
Silence.
“Comments?” Wayne asked, reminding Fi
“Be careful what you wish for. That’s the theme, isn’t it?” Maybeck asked.
Fi
“Not to mention that no matter how strong you think you are, there’s always something stronger,” Willa contributed.
Philby said, “So it’s about power. It’s a study of power.”
“Walt told me that story,” Wayne explained, “and then said something I will never forget. He said, ‘I have plans for this place that should put things in perspective, Wayne.’ And there was this twinkle in his eye. There was something more to it than he was letting on. At least that’s been my opinion all these years.”
“But what?” Fi
Wayne shrugged. He repeated: “I have plans for this place that should put things in perspective.”
“And we’re supposed to figure out why he called it ‘The Stonecutter’s Quill’?” Willa asked.
“Yes, it’s up to the five of you to solve the fable. Others have tried before you, myself included, but to no avail. As matters grew more urgent, we came up with the idea of the DHIs. You have one foot in the character world, one in the real. We need not only to solve whatever the fable is supposed to tell us, but we need to apprehend and stop the Overtakers responsible for our recent problems.”
“And we’re the chosen ones,” Maybeck said skeptically.
“Indeed, you are. Very carefully chosen, at that: intelligence, athleticism, artistry, computer knowledge.”
“What if we don’t want to be chosen?” Willa asked.
Fi
“But that must be your doing,” Willa said to Wayne accusingly.
The old man looked back impassively. For a moment it seemed he might refuse to answer.
The old man looked back impassively. For a moment it seemed he might refuse to answer.
Then he said, “It’s out of my hands now.” He raised his arms dramatically. “I’ve waited a long time to tell that story to you.
Willa spoke, “What are we up against?”
Wayne said, “You know how you can sometimes sense a storm before it ever rains? You can almost smell it? Whatever is happening to this place is like that: we know it’s coming. Bad things have been happening, but worse things are on their way. We’re powerless to do anything about them. You are not. You five can change it.”