Escape from the Isle of the Lost

by Melissa de la Cruz

“What do you want?” she rasped.

  “Oh, hey, I was just wondering—Uma hasn’t been around, has she? You haven’t seen her?” asked Mal.

  “No, last I saw her was on the news when she was blasting you with her magic!” Ursula laughed. “Good for her!”

  “Um, yeah,” said Mal. “Okay, just wanted to check.”

  “What do you want to see her for, anyway? Thought you guys weren’t friends anymore,” said Ursula suspiciously.

  “Oh, nothing,” said Mal. “Just curious is all.”

  She backed up, hoping Ursula wouldn’t take a swipe at her with her tentacles. Ursula closed the door with a bang.

  • • •

  Mal was heading away when she realized she had no idea where she was going or where she had been. That was odd, wasn’t it? It almost felt like she was daydreaming. She was standing on the sidewalk, a confused look on her face, when she bumped into Carlos.

  “Hey, Mal!” said Carlos. “What’s up? You all right?”

  She shook off the weird feeling. Maybe she was just spooked to be back on the Isle of the Lost. Too many bad memories. “Yeah, I’m okay. What are you up to?”

  “Oh, just figuring out the best places for the posters. I thought we should put up some Auradon Prep billboards too. Really inundate the place.”

  “Cool,” said Mal.

  “What about you? What are you doing so far from the hideout?” asked Carlos.

  “Nothing,” said Mal. She couldn’t remember. What had she been doing? Maybe it wasn’t important—that’s why she couldn’t remember.

  “Well, I’ve got to check out a building over there. I think we can paste over your old ‘Down with Auradon’ signs,” said Carlos apologetically. “See you later.”

  “Yeah, see you back at the hideout,” said Mal. “Be careful.”

  “I will,” promised Carlos.

  • • •

  Carlos watched Mal walk away. She seemed a bit off, but maybe she was just concentrating on something. She was Mal, and she could take care of herself. He didn’t have to worry, did he?

  Like Mal, Carlos hadn’t been completely straight with the gang. Sure, he was scouting locations for posters and billboards, but he was also testing a system he had invented. Part of the graduation surprise he and Jane had cooked up. It had mostly been Jane’s idea, but Carlos was the technical part of the operation.

  He took out his phone and opened the new app he’d put on it. He studied the screen and grinned as it began to work.

  Excitedly, he texted Jane.

  C-DOG: I think your surprise is going to work!

  JAAAAANE: If you’re texting me, it sure is! How’s everything over there?

  C-DOG: Okay. Glad we’re going home soon. Isle kids don’t really get the appeal of Auradon.

  JAAAAANE: Maybe we need to make a bigger deal out of them.

  C-DOG: ?

  JAAAAANE: Like a day to really celebrate the villain kids.

  C-DOG: Oh like a VK Day!

  JAAAAANE: Yes!

  C-DOG: Evie will LOVE that idea. You’re a genius! ☺

  JAAAAANE: Okay I have to go. See you soon!

  C-DOG: Counting down the minutes!

  She sent him a heart. Carlos looked at it for a long time, then put his phone away.

  • • •

  If Mal had noticed Carlos was being cagey earlier, she didn’t give it much thought. She was too worried about the strange gap in her memory. She was walking through the bazaar, lost in her thoughts, when she bumped into Harriet Hook.

  “Hey, Harriet,” said Mal.

  “Mal!” said Harriet. “Oh, I heard about your roundtable at study hall. My sister, CJ, kept bugging me to go, but I had a big test, and you know the Queen of Hearts threatens to chop off our heads if we fail.”

  “It’s okay,” said Mal. “You probably know all about Auradon from CJ.”

  Harriet gave Mal one of her rare smiles. “So, how did it go?”

  Mal shrugged. “Not our finest hour,” she admitted. “We couldn’t get anyone to realize how great it is. Maybe they didn’t want to hear it. Not everyone will get to go, after all.”

  “That’s never stopped a determined bunch of villains before,” said Harriet.

  “You’re right,” said Mal. “Maybe we have the wrong approach.…Thanks!”

  “No problem,” said Harriet.

  Mal began to walk away, but Harriet stopped her.

  “Mal?” Harriet said. “You were headed that way,” she said, pointing her fake hook in the opposite direction.

  Mal startled. “I was?”

  “Yeah. I’m the one going this way.”

  “Oh,” said Mal. “Thanks!”

  Mal twirled around, trying to hide her embarrassment. What was going on? Why was she acting like this? And why did she have a feeling it had something to do with Uma?

  hat night, Mal lay in bed, thinking of Celia’s warning and the strange gaps in her memory earlier that day. Was Uma out to get her? Of course she was. Uma was always out to get her. Uma had never forgiven Mal for, well, being Mal. Being the best at everything. At first, that meant being wicked. Then she hated Mal for being good and for being Ben’s choice. But if Mal kept worrying about Uma, she would never go to bed. She tossed. She turned. She tossed again. Jay was sitting by the window, keeping watch. If anything happened, they would know. Mal relaxed, and slowly she went to sleep.

  She dreamed she was back in her old home, sitting on her bed. She was younger than she was now. She was a kid: maybe four, five years old. Her mother was in the kitchen, a cauldron was bubbling on the stove, and goblins were cowering at Maleficent’s words because they had brought back the wrong ingredients for the soup. It could have been any other ordinary day.

  Mal hadn’t thought of her childhood in a long time. Why was she dreaming about it now?

  Then the dream changed, and she was standing in front of the classroom at Dragon Hall. She was still a little kid, but now she was in third grade. She had just won the Wicked Prize. It was an award given to the most dastardly student of each grade level, and since kindergarten, Mal had always won. She was the baddest of the bad. Her mother had been so proud of her!

  The little Mal in the dream went home to show her parents her prize.

  That’s our bad little girl.

  Mal.

  That voice.

  That voice was so familiar. It was a voice she hadn’t heard for a long time. Mal…

  Mal sat up. Was she dreaming? Had she just heard a voice, or was she just imagining it? She fell back on the lumpy mattress. She wasn’t hearing anything. It was completely silent in the hideout.

  She closed her eyes and began to drift off once more. Then she heard it again. Mal…Hey, Mal…you know where to go. Come on.

  Mal’s arms locked against her sides. Something was happening—something was compelling her to leave. But she wouldn’t go.

  Mal. Get up. That’s an order.

  Mal’s eyes snapped open, a glazed look to them. She got up quietly. Her friends, including Jay, who was snoring by the windowsill, didn’t stir. She had to go. Now.

  arlos shrank back from his mother in fear. Cruella De Vil was annoyed, and when she was annoyed, watch out. She paced the length of their ballroom, her high heels clomping on the floor as her minions, Jasper and Horace, cringed in front of her. Cruella hadn’t seemed to notice Carlos yet, but it was only a matter of time. “Where are the puppies?!” she demanded. “Where are they?”

  “They’re gone! They’ve disappeared!” Jasper said, quaking, while Horace hid behind him. Carlos curled tighter into himself from where he was crouched against the wall.

  Cruella paced the room, her fur coat trailing behind her as she waved her long cigarette holder and dusted the furniture with ashes. “Those puppies are mine! Mine, I tell you! Find them!” she raged. “Bring me ALL THE PUPPIES! OR ELSE!”

  Horace shook in his boots and wrung his hat. “We tried!”

  “But they’re nowhere!” said Jas
per.

  “They’re gone!”

  “Nooooo!” screamed Cruella. “CARLOS! CARLOS! CARLOS!”

  Carlos woke up drenched in sweat, fully expecting to find himself back at Hell Hall, the family estate, his mother looming over him, her diamond bracelets rattling in his face, her lips set in a perpetual scowl as she puffed smoke rings in his direction.

  But it was only Evie and Jay, looking concerned. “You had a nightmare,” said Evie. “You were yelling.”

  “You woke us up,” said Jay.

  Outside the window of the loft, two people were arguing over a trinket they’d found on the street. “That’s mine!”

  “No, it’s mine!”

  “MINE!”

  “Nooooo!”

  The sounds of people squabbling always reminded Carlos of his mother, he realized. She would never stop haunting his dreams.

  It was only when his heart had stopped pounding that he realized that there were just three of them in the hideout. “Where’s Mal?” he asked.

  Jay and Evie glanced around. “What?” said Jay.

  “Omigosh!” Evie gasped. “I was asleep until I heard you, Carlos. Did either of you see her?”

  They shook their heads. Evie dashed frantically around the room, overturning pillows and blankets. Mal’s jacket and boots were missing too. Carlos scratched his head. “She’s gone?”

  Jay flushed. “I was supposed to be keeping watch!” he said. “But I was exhausted.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Evie said. “Don’t blame yourself.”

  “But where would she have gone? And why didn’t she tell us where she was going?” asked Carlos. An uneasy feeling crept over him.

  “I don’t know,” said Evie. “It’s not like her to do this. She knows we would worry.”

  Carlos looked around the dark loft. “Did she leave a note?”

  “Let’s check,” said Evie, and the three of them searched the entirety of the loft. Jay even picked through the trash, which was still full of rotten pirate debris. But they didn’t find anything. Not a word.

  Carlos sighed. This was why he had been reluctant to go back to the island in the first place. He knew something like this would happen. It always did.

  Then he heard Evie gasp. “Guys, check this out!” She pointed at the floor.

  It was Mal’s boot print, leading toward the door. But there was something strange about it. It seemed to have the slightest glow. Almost…blue.

  “Uma,” said Jay, his eyes narrowing. The others nodded in agreement. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. But at least it looked like there were tracks to follow.

  Carlos pulled on his black-and-white leather jacket. “What are we waiting for?” he said. “Let’s go. We’ve got to find her.”

  his way, Mal.

  Come on.

  Hurry.

  Mal followed the deep, strangely familiar voice that urged her out of the hideout into the deserted streets of the Isle of the Lost. She walked by the Slop Shop, down Mean Street, and past Gaston’s cottage. She wandered in a daze, unsure if she was still dreaming and asleep on the mattress, or actually outside in the cold night air. She heard the crunch of gravel beneath her feet. Her head felt foggy. She was compelled to follow the voice, no matter what.

  “Keep going,” said a new voice, and when Mal looked up she saw Dizzy Tremaine, with her signature pigtails and oversize glasses, standing on the deserted sidewalk.

  “Dizzy? What are you doing here?” asked Mal. What was she doing out here so late and so far from her home on Stepmother’s Island? Dizzy shouldn’t be out at this time of the night.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Dizzy said with a laugh. “You just keep going, Mal. That way!” Dizzy threw her head back and cackled, and something glowed around her neck. She reminded Mal of someone. Who laughed like that? The answer was in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t access it. It was like she was sleepwalking. Maybe she was.

  “Where am I going?” she asked.

  “You’ll see,” said Dizzy mysteriously. “You’re almost there.”

  Mal bent down to tie her shoelace, and when she stood up Dizzy had disappeared. Had that even been Dizzy? What was going on? But she felt that she was going the right way. She had to continue.

  She walked to the intersection of Pitty Lane and Bitter Boulevard, a route she had traveled countless times when she was a denizen of the Isle of the Lost. She remembered knocking down garden gnomes, pushing over mailboxes, tagging walls.

  Then suddenly there was Gil, leaning against a wall, eating a rotten apple. “Oh, hey, Mal, keep going.”

  This was Mal’s territory. What was a pirate doing here? It was like he appeared out of nowhere.

  “Going where?”

  Gil rolled his eyes. “Jailor’s Pier. Where else?”

  “What are you doing in my dream?” she asked.

  “It’s not a dream,” said Gil. “It’s real.” Then he giggled maniacally. Mal thought he didn’t sound like himself.…He sounded like…

  But she couldn’t finish the thought, so instead she kept walking toward the pier. When she was a little girl, she liked to play tricks on people there. She would throw a bucket of slime on the wood slats, making them slippery and sending unsuspecting villains sliding down the length of the pier and into the water. Mal hoped no one played a prank on her tonight. Seagulls lined the deck, picking at leftover trash. She walked to the end of the pier, where she came upon Harry Hook fishing, his line dangling out into the water. “Harry?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Oi! Mal, there you are.”

  “Why am I here?” she asked, still not sure if this was really happening or even if that was truly Harry in front of her. Like Dizzy and Gil, there seemed to be something glowing around his neck.

  “You should never have left,” he said solemnly. “You should never have left the Isle of the Lost.”

  “What? And stay here with you?” Mal smirked.

  “What’s so terrible about that?” asked Harry, attempting to look wounded.

  “Everything,” Mal growled.

  “Ouch.” Harry disappeared in a blink. Mal stepped back. What just happened? Where did Harry go? And Gil? And Dizzy?

  She ventured to the outskirts of town, right to the middle of a forest, in the deep dark heart of the woods, where a glowing blue orb floated in the middle of the darkness. And it spoke with a familiar voice.

  Mal…

  She turned away from the orb and kept walking through to the other side, and now she found herself at the opposite edge of the forest, close to the pier, and there was Dizzy again.

  “Mal! What are you doing out here?” asked Dizzy.

  Mal was confused. Didn’t she just see Dizzy earlier? How did she get here so fast? She told Dizzy about walking out into the woods and seeing this blue orb.

  “It spoke with a voice…and it sounded crazily like my…” Dad? Mal shook her head. “No, that’s impossible,” said Mal. “But what are you doing out here?”

  “We were supposed to meet up at Curl Up and Dye hours ago, remember?” said Dizzy.

  “We were?” Mal didn’t remember making this plan.

  “It’s okay, I was just excited to…” Dizzy said, and then she stopped and looked disoriented for a moment, as if unsure of where she was and what was happening.

  “Dizzy? Are you okay?” asked Mal.

  Dizzy jumped. “Of course I’m okay!” she said with a too-cheerful smile. “There’s just so much glam to add in so little time!” She picked up Mal’s hands. “Just because they’re cuticles does not mean they’re cute!” she said, and then stopped as if something was choking her.

  Mal leaned over and gasped. “Dizzy! Why are you glowing?”

  “Glowing?” asked Dizzy, and then she held her chest in pain.

  There was something glowing around Dizzy’s neck. Mal reached over and lifted the source of the light. It was a seashell necklace.

  “Dizzy! Why are you wearing Uma’s necklace?” she asked.
<
br />   Dizzy looked down at the necklace, confused, but when she looked back up at Mal, there was a crafty smile on her face. It wasn’t Dizzy’s smile. Mal knew that smile.

  “I wouldn’t say that Dizzy’s wearing my necklace,” said a voice that was definitely not Dizzy’s. “It’s more like my necklace is wearing Dizzy!”

  “Uma!” Mal said angrily. “This is so low! Your fight is with me, not Dizzy! And she’s a child!”

  “Oh, I can go lower, princess,” said Uma as Dizzy. She took off Dizzy’s glasses and stomped on them. “Oops!” She shrugged. “Just you wait.”

  Mal scoffed. Uma didn’t scare her. “Am I supposed to be frightened?”

  Just then Harry and Gil appeared out of nowhere and flanked Dizzy/Uma. Both of them had similar glowing lights at the bases of their throats.

  Harry waved his hook in Mal’s face. “You’re not welcome on the Isle anymore!”

  But Mal was simply amused. “Really? And what are you going to do about it, pal? Mr.…Coat Hanger?”

  “His name is Harry,” Gil said smugly. Then he realized. “Oh, I get it…because it looks like…That’s pretty funny, Mal!”

  Mal smirked. “Thanks. I’ll be here all week.”

  “Uma’s going to have the last laugh, though,” said Gil, as the three of them began walking closer to Mal, and she had to walk backward, closer to the pier. “I wouldn’t want to be you right now, Mal.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be her ever,” sneered Dizzy with Uma’s voice.

  The three of them kept inching forward as Mal kept walking backward, edging onto the pier, but now she was annoyed. “What makes you think this is going to be any different from every other time that I’ve beaten you?”

  Now Harry spoke in Uma’s voice. “Those were measly little battles. There’s a war coming!”

  “And in this war, I will triumph, I’ll have everything—the Isle and Auradon!” said Gil in Uma’s angry voice.

  Uma was definitely getting worked up, wherever she was.

  “And you, princess—I’m coming for you, Mal,” said Uma menacingly through Dizzy.

  Mal stood her ground, even as Harry unsheathed his sword and the three of them kept edging toward her in a threatening manner. “Mal…Mal…Mal…” they whispered, as they glowed with the light from Uma’s seashell necklace.