Return to the Isle of the Lost
Page 7

Some things never changed.
Evie looked nervously at Doug, who had his eyebrows raised. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up later,” she told him. Somehow she’d already lost her appetite.
“Whatever it is, I can help….” he offered, because that was the kind of guy he was.
Mal rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Sorry, Doug, but I have to talk to Evie privately. This isn’t about mining jewels.”
“As you wish. See you later, Evie,” said Doug, who promptly left them alone, whistling as he went.
“So what’s up?” asked Evie, turning to Mal and walking over to sit at her sewing machine. Doing something with her hands always calmed her down during stressful times.
Mal didn’t answer immediately. She watched as Evie carefully pushed fabric under the needle. “Is that your Castlecoming dress?” she asked. “That color is pretty.”
“Yes,” said Evie. “You really think it’s pretty?” she asked, momentarily distracted by the compliment and running a hand over the glossy fabric and smoothing out the stitches. The dress was royal blue, her favorite color, with a deep red bodice the color of poisoned apples.
“Very,” Mal said.
“Yours is ready, I put it in your closet. Not as many ruffles this time, like you wanted. Okay, so what did you have to talk to me about?” Evie asked.
Mal removed her phone and swiped to the screen with the strange message. “This,” she said. “Look.”
Evie read the message, her face growing pale as snow for a moment. “Someone left the same message on my InstaRoyal account.” She handed Mal her phone with the offending comment on the screen. Mal studied it, frowning.
“Who do you think it’s from?” asked Evie, feeling goose bumps on her arms. That had to stop. Pebbly skin was so not attractive. “I checked and the user’s anonymous, and their account is private.”
“I have no idea,” said Mal, biting her lip.
“And by the way, why does it talk about the moon?” asked Evie.
“I don’t know. At first, I thought the comments were only meant to be mean. But since they mentioned the moon to both of us, I wonder if there is more to it than that. Maybe they actually do want us to return by a certain time?”
Evie read the message on Mal’s phone again. “Yours says it’s from M.”
“Yeah, I see that,” said Mal. “And my mother used to count moon days rather than day days. Evil-fairy habit.”
Evie crossed her arms. In their world there was only one M that mattered. “It can’t be from her. I mean, she’s a lizard? Lizards can’t type! How can she be M?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not her,” said Mal hopefully.
“But what if it is?” whispered Evie.
“And who else would want us to return to the Isle of the Lost so badly?” Mal said. “It has to be from…”
“Our parents?” Evie squeaked. “You really think so?”
“There’s only one way to find out. You still have your Magic Mirror, don’t you? Let’s ask it to show us our parents. If my mother is able to get out of that pedestal and turn back into herself, maybe it’ll catch her in the act.”
Evie removed the shard of the Magic Mirror that her mother had gifted her with before she left for Auradon. “Show me Maleficent!” she demanded.
The gray clouds in the mirror’s reflection parted to show a lizard snoozing peacefully under glass. Both Mal and Evie exhaled, relieved.
“What about your mom?” Mal suggested. “Just to make sure?”
Evie nodded. “Show me the Evil Queen!”
But instead of showing Evil Queen happily tweezing her eyebrows or shading in the mole on her cheek, the mirror stayed cloudy. Evie tried again. “Magic Mirror in my hand, show me my mother, I command!”
Still, the mirror’s cloudy swirls remained hazy and swirly. Evie shook it a few times, and even banged it against her lap for good measure. “This isn’t good,” she said. “It’s busted. This has never happened before.”
When she asked, the mirror wouldn’t show them Cruella de Vil or Jafar either, remaining stubbornly gray and fogged in.
“How about asking it to show us Evil Queen’s castle, Hell Hall, and the Junk Shop?” Mal suggested. “Maybe that will work.”
Evie did so, and the mirror cooperated this time, but there was still no sign of any of the three villains. The castle was empty, Hell Hall abandoned, the Junk Shop deserted.
“That’s strange,” said Evie. “It’s not like they go anywhere.” She was starting to have a dreadful feeling about this.
Mal wasn’t ready to give up quite yet. “Ask it again,” she urged.
Evie tried, but no matter what, the mirror remained cloudy. “Maybe it’s broken?” she asked hopefully.
“No, it was working otherwise,” Mal pointed out. “Something else is going on, something that might be connected to the messages we received today.”
Evie stared at Mal. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That Cruella, Jafar, and Evil Queen are up to their old tricks on the Isle of the Lost and that Maleficent might be involved somehow? Totally,” said Mal.
Evie found she couldn’t breathe for a moment. She was glad she hadn’t eaten anything, or else she would seriously throw up right now.
“We don’t know who sent us those messages, but here’s what we do know,” said Mal, straightening her shoulders. She didn’t look frightened anymore, and Evie took comfort in her friend’s courage; it gave her back some of her own. “The villains won’t rest until they exact vengeance on Auradon….” said Mal.
“And it’s possible they’ve hidden themselves until they can put their evil plan into action,” Evie finished.
“Evie, we’ve got move fast,” said Mal.
“On it.”
“Let’s go get Carlos and Jay.”
Back in Dragon Hall, it had been school policy that the library, otherwise known as the Athenaeum of Evil, was forbidden to the average student. Carlos de Vil had never been the average student, however. Most of the reading material he’d been able to find there had consisted of last year’s TV guides for shows he’d never heard of and past issues of Carriage & Driver magazine. Knowledge was hoarded like stolen gold and plundered treasure, and was equally hard to come by.