Kingdom Keepers: The Return Book Two: Legacy of Secrets by Ridley Pearson

is: Did the lion escape, or was he kidnapped? And if so, why is Hollingsworth’s name written onto the article?”
    “And why is any of this in the archives?” Amanda asked, exasperated.
    Emily spoke for the first time. She still wore her skintight invisibility suit, which was made of woven fiber-optic threads and Mylar. Her Spider-Man–like hood was pulled off, leaving her hair in a tangle.
    “At the risk of sounding stupid,” she said, “do you think the boy you told me about could help? Nick Perkins? Wasn’t he the one who knew about the Legacy of Secrets and Hollingsworth in the first place?”
    “Yeah. We met him at an ice hockey game, of all things,” Jess said. “He’s not a real public kid.”
    “If the point is to find your five friends,” Emily said, “and if their disappearance is tied up with the Legacy of Secrets, then isn’t Nick the person to ask?”
    “Not if you’re wearing that invisibility suit,” Tim said. “You look like you’ve been dipped in something. Clothes would help.”
    The three girls snarled at him. “Pig,” Amanda said. “The thing is, it’s a good idea, Emily, but Nick kinda found us last time.”
    “You two never really explained this whole Legacy of Secrets thing,” Emily said to Amanda and Jess. “I admit—I’m a little confused.”
    “Didn’t we? Sorry! If we had it figured out, we could explain it,” Amanda said ruefully.
    “Basically,” Jess said, “it comes down to some kind of plan—as yet to be determined—that explains the formation of the Overtakers. The Disney villains—”
    “Wanting to run things,” Tim quipped.
    “I know it sounds preposterous,” Amanda said, “but it’s legit. The Keepers, the Overtakers, the whole thing. Two of our friends died fighting them, both incredible people. Died, as in gone. As in heartbreaking, aching loss. And here’s the thing: if we can tell the Keepers about the Legacy of Secrets, about Hollingsworth maybe being behind it, if they’re able to understand this before it ever happens…You see?”
    “Are you saying those two wouldn’t have to die?” There was awe in Emily’s voice.
    “I’m saying history and time are the same. If you mess with one, maybe you mess with the other.” Amanda crossed her arms, holding herself as if cold. “And you’re right, Em. To do that, we need Nick’s help. But how to find him?”
    “He’s a sneaky guy,” Tim said.
    “Can’t you send up the Bat Signal or something?” Emily asked playfully.
    Tim took her literally. “Actually…maybe I can!”

T HE COSTUMES CHOSEN by Maybeck, Charlene, and Willa before crossing over into the Disneyland of sixty years prior were formal enough to allow the three to attend the Opening Day VIP reception at the Golden Horseshoe. Philby and Finn, whose DHI projection costumes were too casual, wanted a view of the goings-on without the risk of being seen. They decided to hide out on the Mark Twain Riverboat.
    Inside, the party was just getting started. It led off with a rousing performance of saloon tunes by Betty Taylor and four high-kicking dancers on a small stage, which faced out onto the mock Western saloon. A pianist, trumpet player, and drummer, all clean-cut men dressed in white shirts and ties, occupied the small orchestra space and faced the performers. Bookending the stage were four box seat compartments. Additional balcony seating, marked off by a gleaming white banister, wrapped around the room.
    Overhead, the smoked glass chandeliers helped convince guests that they’d stepped into a bygone era—the irony of which was not lost on the two-dimensional visitors, who kept to the left wall beneath the balcony as Wally Boag slipped seamlessly into a comedy sketch. Dance hall girls in frilly skirts mingled.
    “There,” Maybeck said, cocking his head toward the front table. By wearing a hat inside he drew attention to himself—not proper etiquette in 1955, but he had no choice: it was part of his projected image.
    In