MAYBECK DUCKED INSTINCTIVELY as the sky flashed, and, only moments later, thunder boomed and rolled in a long series of endless echoes. A few early raindrops splattered in huge globs onto the footpath, and the air smelled dusty and sweet—ozone—foretelling the electrical charge it carried.

Charlene stiffened with the crack of thunder. “I…do…not…do…lightning,” she said.

The Park guests scattered for cover, quickly emptying the paths.

“Then forget what Finn said and come with me!” Willa said, taking Charlene by the hand. “The parade blocked Jez and Amanda from coming over the bridge. They’ll probably head past the Haunted Mansion and through Fantasyland to reach the castle. We’re going this way,” she said, pointing in the direction of Cinderella’s Golden Carrousel, “to cut them off. Maybeck, you go around past the Mansion. Hopefully, one of us finds them before we meet up somewhere near Peter Pan.”

“See you in a minute,” Maybeck said.

“It’s hard to see much, so pay attention,” she said. The swirling clouds had brought an early darkness.

“Never fret. Eyes like a hawk,” said Maybeck.

“What about the monkeys?” Charlene mumbled. “What if that was some kind of omen?”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Maybeck.

They split up, Willa dragging Charlene by the arm. Maybeck jogged off.

Park guests waved at Willa and Charlene. Some braved the increasingly steady rain to chase after them, calling for autographs. Willa pressed on.

Charlene said, “We’re getting wet.”

“That’s what usually happens with rain,” Willa said.

“We can’t get wet!” she complained. “DHIs don’t get wet. The rain runs right through them. We can’t disappoint the kids like that!”

“Are you worried about the kids, or your hair?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Okay. So let’s run faster.”