Return to the Isle of the Lost (11 page)

“It’s up to you how

far you go.

If you don’t try,

you’ll never know.”

—Merlin,
The

Sword in the Stone

T
he streets of Auradon were empty as the royal limousine made its way to the very edge of the coast, practically at the shoreline. They finally reached the southernmost point by the bay, where they knew an invisible bridge connecting the island to the mainland was standing. Mal bit the edge of her thumb as she told the rest of her team what Ben had told her about the purple dragon that had been spotted in Camelot. They agreed it had to be impossible—there was no way that creature was her mother. Yet who or what else could it be? There had to be an explanation, but for now, nothing seemed to make sense.

“I sure hope we don’t run into this dragon on the Isle,” said Carlos as he steered the limousine toward the end of the road. The lights from the Isle of the Lost pierced through the fog. “Wow, it actually looks almost pretty from here.”

“Home,” said Evie softly.

“There’s no place like it,” said Jay, with forced cheer.

“Let’s hope not,” said Carlos. “One island full of villains is quite enough.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Mal, who knew they had to do this before they all chickened out. “Hit it, Jay.”

Jay removed the remote that controlled the bridge from the glove compartment and pointed it at the air in front of them. “Here goes nothing.”

There was a spark, and through the haze, Mal could almost see the dome opening up as the bridge slowly manifested before their eyes. Carlos drove the car forward, and the four of them pressed their faces against the windows, watching the bridge materialize in front of them as they drove over the water. Mal knew they were all thinking of the first day they’d left the island. Now they were returning, very much changed from the rotten hellions who had left not too long ago.

Just as they reached the other side, Jay turned around and zapped the remote control again, and the bridge disappeared.

“Don’t drive into town,” said Mal. “We should hide the car somewhere.”

“Good idea,” said Carlos, who veered off the main street and into one of the dusty, unfinished roads. But it was hard to steer the large car on such rocky terrain, and Carlos tried to overcompensate by turning the wheel left when he should have turned right, and his passengers screamed as the car swerved and plunged into a ditch, sending everything flying as the limousine crashed into a copse of dead trees.

The engine died and the smoke cleared. “Everyone okay?” Mal called from the backseat. It looked as if their seat belts had saved them from serious injury, and Mal was thankful they had picked up the habit of wearing them in Auradon.

“Sorry, sorry!” said Carlos, coughing from the front.

Evie nodded that she was all right and Jay offered a thumbs-up from the passenger side. “A-OK, except I think we lost the remote to the bridge,” he said. “It must have flown out the windshield.” He pointed to the huge hole in the middle of the glass.

“We’ll just have to find another way to get back,” said Mal.

“I guess we could swim?” joked Jay.

“Well, at least the crash took care of one thing. The car’s definitely hidden now. No one will find it here,” said Carlos.

They took turns changing inside the roomy back passenger area into their normal clothing and began the long walk into town. Mal checked the time. After all of their delays, they still had a few hours before the Anti-Heroes meeting was supposed to start. “Let’s meet at Evie’s castle a little before midnight,” said Mal. “For now, let’s split up. Each of you, see if you can locate your parents. Once we know what they’re planning, we’ll figure out what to do about it.”

“What do we say if anyone from the Isle asks why we’re back?” asked Evie, looking uncomfortable at the thought.

“Yeah, I bet they’re not exactly going to be excited to see us,” said Carlos.

“Tell them the truth, that we’re visiting our aged relatives,” suggested Jay with a grin. Soon they had reached the outskirts of town and passed Dragon Hall, following Woeful Way down to the familiar town square, cornered by shabby buildings on all sides and the Bargain Castle looming over everything.

“Don’t let anyone know we know about this Anti-Heroes club,” said Mal. “Until we find Cruella, Jafar, and Evil Queen.”

The group agreed. “Wow, this place is worse than I remember,” said Carlos, looking around. “And what is that smell? Did you guys ever notice that before?” He made a face. “It smells like…”

“Poisoned toads,” said Mal, who remembered what went into the daily coffee brew.

“Goblins,” said Jay, who seemed to have the foul creatures stuck in his mind.

“Garbage,” said Evie, who recoiled at the memory.

“Actually, it smells like a combination of all three,” Carlos decided.

Mal had to agree, even if a small part of her was happy to return to the familiar “comforts” of home. The outdoor bazaar was closed for the day, but the Slop Shop and Ursula’s Fish and Chips were doing brisk business. It was kind of sad to see how terrifically ramshackle everything looked, though. Mal used to revel in dirt and decay, but she’d been in Auradon too long, and now everything was grimier than she remembered. She really needed to chug a cup of toad coffee before she got too soft.

“Look at that,” said Jay, pointing to a poster of Maleficent pasted to the side of a wall. Someone had drawn a mustache on her face, and another person had scrawled
MISTRESS OF LIZARDS
over her forehead.

“Whoa,” said Carlos.

“You said it,” said Evie. “I guess they saw the Coronation; it was broadcast live to the whole kingdom, even here.”

When Maleficent was, well, Maleficent, no one would dare even
think
to vandalize her likeness. There were other changes too. Goblins seemed to have taken over the square. There were dozens and dozens of them, living in cardboard boxes and gathered around little trash-can fires.

“Where did they all come from?” wondered Evie, who had never seen so many.

“The Forbidden Fortress maybe?” Jay guessed. During their quest for the Dragon’s Eye scepter, they had run into a rather large and unfriendly goblin horde.

“Nope,” grunted a goblin when he overheard their conversation. He was a stout, runty fellow, and looked as if he hadn’t had a good meal in a long while. His green skin was sallow, and his yellow eyes red-rimmed. “We used to work the barges, but with the embargo, there’s a limit on how many of us can bring in supplies from the mainland anymore. Maleficent promised us freedom and a better life, but she got turned into a lizard, so here we are.”

“Sorry about that,” said Mal.

“You the one that did that to her?” the goblin asked.

“Sort of,” she replied as Evie pulled her away.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to strange goblins?” her friend scolded.

“Of course not,” said Mal.

“Mine didn’t either,” admitted Evie.

They walked through the streets, feeling the eyes of the island’s citizens following them. Mal realized that even if they were dressed casually, they were still better dressed and much cleaner-looking than anyone else. Their clothes, unlike their former neighbors’ wardrobes, weren’t patched and frayed, or ill-fitting and holey. Mal felt a new wave of emotions—a little proud, a little bittersweet, a little abashed that they looked so different from everyone else. And a little scared to think what their old neighbors now thought of them. Did the people of the island now despise them like they did the fancy princes and princesses of Auradon?

In Auradon, people stared at them because they came from somewhere else, and now on the Isle of the Lost, everyone stared at them because they’d left. In a way, it was just the same. Now they were outsiders in both places. Some of the townsfolk looked at them balefully, while others were merely curious.

“Hi, Gaston, and, um, Gaston,” said Evie, seeing the burly duo across the street.

But the Gastons simply scowled.

Evie backed away. “They used to be pretty friendly back in Dragon Hall,” she said. “They even offered to share their lunch with me.”

“Not anymore,” said Mal. “I bet they don’t even share a crumb with you at this point.”

“Let’s keep going,” urged Carlos. “Everyone’s staring. I feel like they’ll start throwing rotten tomatoes at us.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” said Jay, but he looked nervous too.

“Well, well, if isn’t the heroes of Auradon.” The four of them turned at the sound of the voice and saw a girl with dark frizzy hair leaning over a balcony. She had piercing gray eyes and wore a soiled red dress with tattered golden piping at the neckline.

“There’s that word again,” Evie whispered.
“Heroes.”

“Ginny Gothel!” said Mal. “Get down here!” Ginny had been a friendly acquaintance back in Dragon Hall, and Mal remembered with a hint of shame that they had often enjoyed making fun of smaller, weaker people together. They watched as Ginny shimmied down the edge of the building and walked toward them.

Mal wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she returned to the Isle of the Lost, but it certainly wasn’t to find Ginny Gothel, of all people, looking down at her.

“Don’t you guys clean up nice,” Ginny sneered, crossing her arms and studying each of them in turn. “What do you call that?” she asked, pointing at Mal’s outfit.

Mal flushed. “Preppie punk,” she explained. She was wearing a purple argyle sweater underneath her favorite jacket, along with a clean denim skirt and boots.

“Huh. I’m not sure I’m a fan, but then Auradon style is best for goody-goodies. So, what are you guys doing back here?” Ginny asked, her arms crossed and a skeptical look on her face. “Slumming?”

“Visiting,” said Jay. “Which reminds me, I should probably go check out the Junk Shop and let Dad know I’m here.” He waved and quickly jogged away.

“Yeah, Evie and I are gonna head over to our side of the island,” said Carlos, as they peeled away from the group.

“Going home too, are you, Mal?” asked Ginny. “What would your mom say, I wonder, if she could talk again? To see that her nasty little girl grew up to be so good?” She shook her head. “If you can change, I guess they’re right, there’s hope for all of us,” Ginny said in a soft, sweet voice, batting her eyelashes mockingly.

“Who’s they?” asked Mal, but Ginny, apparently bored with the conversation, was already walking away.

E
vil Queen had been exiled to the farthest, most remote, and practically abandoned part of the island, so by the time Evie and Carlos made it past Woeful Way and turned onto Hell Street, both of them were panting from the long walk. Without the fear of Maleficent, chaos had settled upon the Isle of the Lost and it appeared even the island’s mostly undependable, rinky-dink transportation system had completely broken down. The goblins had abandoned their rickshaws, which were left to rust on the side of the roads.

Everywhere they went, they were met with frowns and scowls. Evie tried not to look too nervous for Carlos’s sake, since he was obviously extremely uncomfortable with all the attention.

It didn’t help that she was also exhausted and her feet hurt. Evie told herself exercise was good for the skin, and wiped her forehead with her handkerchief. She was still wearing her fancy dancing shoes with the high heels, and she almost fell in relief when they finally reached the familiar tall, gray stone walls of the Evil Queen’s castle. Then she remembered she was afraid to face her mother.