Isle of the Lost Read online

“I want to open it,” his brother said, elbowing him away. But the first Gaston punched him without even a backward look. “After you, princess,” he offered grandly, as his brother slithered to the floor, holding his jaw.

  “Um, thanks, I think,” said Evie.

  Dr. Facilier looked up and gave the three students a jack-o’-lantern smile. “Yes? Oh, Evie, welcome to Dragon Hall. It’s a delight to see you again, child. It’s been too long. Ten years, is it? How is your lovely mother?”

  “She’s well, thanks.” Evie nodded politely but hurried to get to the point. “Dr. Facilier, I just wanted to see if I could swap my Wickedness class for Advanced Vanities that meets at the same time?” she asked.

  The shadowy man frowned. Evie batted her eyelashes. “It would mean so much to me. By the way—” She pointed to his bolo tie, with its unfortunate silver chain. “That is so cool!” she said, thinking exactly the opposite.

  “Oh, this? I picked it up in the Bayou d’Orleans right before I was brought here.” He sighed, and his frown softened into a real smile. “I suppose Vanities is a better fit for your overall schedule. Consider it done.”

  “Good, I’m in that class,” the Gastons chorused. “On Tuesdays it’s right after lunch.”

  “Lunch!” Evie slapped her forehead.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I forgot to bring mine!” In all the excitement and anxiety about finally leaving the castle, she’d left her basket at home.

  “Don’t worry,” the twins replied. “You can share ours!” they added, holding up two huge baskets of food. A giant block of some particularly smelly cheese poked out, along with two loaves of brown bread speckled with mold and several thick slices of liverwurst.

  Evie was touched they had offered to share, even though they looked like they could eat a horse and a half between them, with or without the mold.

  They led her down the winding hallway. The stone walls were covered in the same pea-green moss as outside, and seemed to be leaking some sort of brown liquid all over the dusty cement floor. Evie felt something furry circling her ankles and found a fat black cat with a smug grin looking up at her.

  “Hi, kitty,” she cooed, leaning down to pet it.

  “That’s Lucifer,” said one of the Gastons. “Our mascot.”

  Several yelps from first-year students could be heard from inside the rusty lockers that haphazardly lined the corridor. With only a few lightbulbs flickering overhead, Evie nearly walked into a giant cobweb woven over a heavy steel door. A spider the size of a witch’s cauldron sat in its center. Cool.

  “Where does that lead to?” she asked.

  “Oh that? That’s the door to the Athenaeum of Evil,” the other Gaston said.

  “Come again?”

  “The Library of Forbidden Secrets,” he explained. “Nobody is allowed down there, and only Dr. F has the key.”

  “What kind of secrets?” asked Evie, intrigued.

  “Forbidden ones, I guess?” Gaston shrugged. “Who cares? It’s a library. Sounds pretty boring to me.”

  Finally, they arrived at the classroom’s arched wooden door. Evie stepped inside and made her way to the nearest open desk, smiling at those who came to gather curiously around her. Everyone was looking at her with such awe and admiration, she seemed to be making waves.

  The desk she’d chosen had a remarkably large cauldron and a great view of the professor’s lectern. She took a seat, and there was a gasp in the crowd. Wow, these kids sure were easy to please.

  Evie was feeling pretty good about her first day until she heard the sound of a throat clearing.

  When she looked up, there was a pretty, purple-haired girl standing in front of her cauldron, staring at her with unmistakable venom. Her mother’s “mirror” would have had a few choice words about this one, that’s for sure. Evie felt a cold dread as the memory of a certain infamous party came flooding back. Maybe if she played dumb and flattered her, the girl wouldn’t remember what had happened ten years ago. It was worth a shot.

  “I’m Evie. What’s your name?” Evie asked innocently, although she knew exactly who was standing in front of her. “And by the way, that jacket is amazing. It looks great on you—I love all the patchwork leathers on it.”

  “Girl, that’s her cauldron. You should bounce,” a student Evie would find out later was named Yzla whispered loudly.

  “Oh, this is yours…?” Evie asked the purple-haired girl.

  The purple-haired girl nodded.

  “I had no idea this was your desk, I’m so sorry! But it has such a great view of the lectern,” Evie said with her trademarked bright smile, so blinding, it should have come with sunglasses. Evie finally realized why the students had been staring at her. They had been watching a train wreck about to happen.

  “Yes, it does,” the purple-haired girl replied, her voice soft and menacing. “And if you don’t move your blue-haired caboose out of it, you’ll get some kind of view, all right.” She snarled, brusquely brushing past Evie and noisily plonking her backpack down into the middle of the cauldron.

  Evie got the message, grabbed her things, and found an empty cauldron in the back of the classroom, behind a column where she couldn’t see the blackboard.

  “Is that who I think it is?” she asked the small boy seated next to her, whose hair was black at the roots but white at the tips. Actually, everything he wore was black and white with a splash of red: a fur-collared jacket with one black and one white side and red leather sleeves, a black button-down shirt with streaks of white, and long shorts with one white and one black-and-white leg. It was a pretty cool look. For a bloody skunk.

  “If you mean Mal, you’re right, and I would stay out of her way if I were you,” he said.

  “Mal…” Evie breathed, her voice trembling nervously.

  “Yeah. Her mom’s the Big Bad around here. You know—” He made horn signs with his hands on either side of his head. You didn’t need to have lived on the Isle for long to know exactly whom he was talking about. Nobody dared speak her name, not unless absolutely necessary.

  Evie gulped. Her first day, and she’d already made the worst enemy in school. It was Maleficent who had banished Evie and her mother ten years ago and caused Evie to grow up alone in a faraway castle. Her own mother might be called Evil Queen, but everyone on the Isle of the Lost knew that Maleficent wore the crown in these parts. From the looks of it, her daughter did the same in the dungeons of Dragon Hall.

  Magic Mirror on the wall, who’s the stupidest of them all?

  Carlos De Vil looked up from the contraption he was assembling and shot the new girl a shy smile. “It’ll be okay. Mal just likes to be left alone,” he said. “She’s not as tough as she seems. She only talks a big game.”

  “She does? What about you?” the blue-haired princess asked.

  “I don’t have a game. Unless you consider getting beat up and pushed around a game, which in a way I guess it is. But really it’s not that entertaining, unless you happen to be the one doing the beating and the pushing.”

  Carlos turned his attention back to the mess of wires in front of him. He was smaller and younger than the rest of the class, but smarter than most of them. He was an AP student: Advanced Penchant (for Evil). It was only right, since the infamous Cruella was his mother. His mother was so notorious, she had her own song. He hummed it under his breath sometimes. (What—it was catchy!) Sometimes he would do it just to send her into hysterics. Then again, that wasn’t so difficult. Cruella’s witch doctors believed she was sustained by pure metabolic fury. Privately, Carlos thought of it as her Rage Diet: no carbs, just barbs—no hunger, just anger—no ice cream, just high screams.

  His thoughts were interrupted by his friendly new seatmate. “I’m Evie. What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Hi, Evie, I’m Carlos De Vil,” he said. “We met once before, at your birthday party.” He’d recognized her the minute she walked in. She looked exactly the same, just taller.

  “Oh. Sorry. I
don’t remember much about the party. Except how it ended.”

  Carlos nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, I’m also your neighbor. I live just down the street in Hell Hall.”

  “You do?” Evie’s eyes went wide. “But I thought no one lived there but that crazy old lady and her—”

  “Don’t say it!” he blurted.

  “Dog?” she said at the same time.

  Carlos shuddered. “We—we don’t have dogs,” he said weakly, feeling his forehead begin to perspire at the very thought. His mother had told him dogs were vicious pack animals, the most dangerous and terrifying animals on earth.

  “But she’s always calling someone her pet. I thought you were a d—”

  “I told you, don’t say it!” warned Carlos. “That word is a trigger for me.”

  Evie put up her hands. “Okay, okay.” Then she winked. “But how do you fit in the crate at night?”

  Carlos only glared.

  Their first class was Selfishness 101, or “Selfies” for short, taught by Mother Gothel, who took way too many self-portraits with an old Polaroid camera.

  The photos were littered around the classroom: Mother Gothel making a duck face, sleepy-eyed Mother Gothel in an “I woke up like this” pic, Mother Gothel in “cobra” pose. But Mother Gothel herself was nowhere to be found. She was always at least a half hour late, and when she finally arrived, she was irritated to find the students there before her. “Have I taught you nothing about being fashionably, annoyingly late to every engagement?” she asked, letting out an exasperated sigh and collapsing dramatically into her chair, one hand fanned over her eyes.

  For the next half hour or so they studied Portraits of Evil, comparing the likenesses of the most famous villains in history, many of whom lived on the island and some of whom were their parents. Today’s class just happened to feature Cruella De Vil.

  Of course.

  Carlos knew the portrait by heart, whether or not he was looking at it.

  His mother. There she was in all her finery, with her tall hair and her long red car, her eyes wild and her furs flying in the wind.

  He shuddered again and went back to tinkering with his machine.

  Class ended, and students began to file out of the classroom. Evie asked Carlos what his next subject was, and looked happy to discover they both had Lady Tremaine for Evil Schemes. “That’s another advanced class—you must have a really high EQ,” he told her. Only those who boasted off-the-charts evil quotients were allowed to take it. “It’s this way,” he said, motioning up the stairs.

  But before they could get too far, a cold voice cut through the chatter. “Why, if it isn’t Carlos De Vil,” it said behind them.

  Carlos would know that voice anywhere. It was the second-most terrifying on the island. When he turned, Mal was standing right behind him, next to Jay. Carlos automatically checked his pockets to make sure nothing had disappeared.

  “Hey, Mal,” he said, trying to appear nonchalant. Mal never spoke to anyone except to scare them or to complain that they were in her way. “What’s up?”

  “Your mom’s away at the Spa this weekend, isn’t she?” Mal asked, elbowing Jay, who snickered.

  Carlos nodded. The Spa—really just a bit of warmish steam escaping from the crags of rock in the ruined basement of what had once been a proper building—was Cruella’s one bit of comfort, her one reminder of her luxurious past.

  How far the De Vils had fallen, just like the rest of the Isle.

  “Y-yes,” he said uncertainly, unsure if that was the correct answer even though it was the truthful one.

  “Right answer,” Mal said and patted him on the head. “I can’t exactly give a party at my place without my mother yelling at everyone, not to mention the whole flying crockery issue.”

  Carlos sighed. Like the rest of the Isle, he knew parties brought out Maleficent’s worst behavior. There was nothing she hated more than people openly having fun.

  “And we can’t have it at Jay’s because his dad will just try to hypnotize everyone into being his servants again,” Mal continued.

  “Totally,” agreed Jay.

  Carlos nodded again, although he wasn’t sure where this was leading.

  “Great. Perfect. Party at your house. Tonight.”

  Party? At his house? Did he hear that right?

  “Wait, what? Tonight?” He blanched. “I can’t have a party! I mean, you should understand, my mom doesn’t really like it when people come over—and, um, I’ve got a lot of work to do—I have to fluff her furs, iron her undergarments, I mean—” He gulped, embarrassed.

  Mal ignored him. “Spread the news. Hell Hall’s having a hell-raiser.” She seemed to warm to the thought. “Get the word out. Activate the twilight bark, or whatever it is you puppies do.”

  “Bowwow,” barked Jay with a laugh.

  Carlos glared at the two of them, in spite of himself.

  “There’s a party?” Evie asked shyly. Carlos had forgotten she was standing right next to him, and he jumped at the sound of her voice.

  “Eavesdrop, much?” Mal said, snarling at her although it was obvious Evie couldn’t help it, as she was standing right next to them.

  Before Evie could protest, Mal sighed. “Of course there is. The party of the year. A real rager, didn’t you hear?” Mal looked her up and down and shook her head sadly. “Oh, I guess you didn’t hear.” She mock-winced, looking at Carlos conspiratorially. “Everyone’s going to be there.”

  “They are?” Carlos looked confused. “But you only just told me to have it—” He quickly got the message. “Everyone,” he agreed.

  Evie smiled. “Sounds awesome. I haven’t been to a party in a long, long time.”

  Mal raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. This is a very exclusive party, and I’m afraid you didn’t get an invitation.”

  With those parting words, Mal went ahead of them into the classroom—she was in their next class too, of course (her EQ was legendary)—and left them to each other.

  “Sorry,” Carlos mumbled. “I guess I was wrong, Mal doesn’t just talk a big game.”

  “Yeah, me too. The party sounds like fun,” Evie said sadly.

  “You want to see what I’m making?” he asked, trying to change the subject as they settled into their seats. He took out of his bag a black box, with wires and an antenna poking out from one side—the same contraption he’d been fiddling with earlier. “I made it from some old magician’s stuff.”

  “Sure.” Evie smiled. “Hey, is that a power core? It looks like you’re making a battery, right?”

  Carlos nodded, impressed. “Yeah.”

  “What does it do?”

  “Can you keep a secret?” he asked, whispering.

  Evie nodded. “I keep them from my mom all the time.”

  “I’m trying to poke a hole in the dome.”

  “Really? Can you do that? I thought it was invincible.”

  “Well, I thought I could maybe try to get a signal with this antenna here. It’s actually an old wand, and I think if I hit the right frequency, we might be able to bring some of the outside world into the dome, and we can watch something other than that hairy old beast king telling us to be good, or that channel that only sells shackles.”

  “I sort of like the Auradon channel,” Evie said dreamily. “Especially when they feature the Prince of the Week. They’re so dreamy.”

  Carlos snorted.

  She looked from the boy to the battery. “Frequency? But how?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think if I can break through the dome, we’d be able to pick up Auradon’s radio waves—you know, Internet and wi-fi signals. I’m not exactly sure what the frequency is, but I think that’s how they get all those channels and stuff.”

  Evie sighed again. “What I’d give to go to Auradon. I’ve heard that everything is so beautiful there.”

  “Um, I guess. If you’re into that kind of thing,” Carlos said. He didn’t care about princes or enchanted lakes or chirping animals or c
heerful dwarfs. What he did care about was discovering more of the online world, a safe virtual refuge, where he’d heard you could even find people with whom you could play videogames—that sounded like fun, as he never had anyone to play with.

  There had to be something more to life than kowtowing to the cool kids, organizing his mother’s fur coats, and hiding from her tantrums.

  There had to be. Although right now it wasn’t just his mother he had to answer to. If Mal was serious, which it looked like she was, in the next few hours he somehow had to figure out how to throw the party of the year.

  Meanwhile, across the Sea of Serenity, which separated the Isle of the Lost from the rest of the world, lay the USA—the United States of Auradon, a land of peace and enchantment, prosperity and delight, which encompassed all the good kingdoms. To the east lay the colorful domes of the Sultan’s seat, where Aladdin and Jasmine lived, not far from where Mulan and Li Shang guarded the imperial palace. To the north was Charming Castle, owned by Cinderella and her king, next door to “Honeymoon Cottage,” the forty-bedroom palace that Aurora and Phillip called home. And to the south, one could spy the lanterns of Rapunzel and Eugene Fitzherbert’s divine domicile, near the spot on the coast where Ariel and Eric had made their under-and-over-the-sea royal residence at Seaside.

  But right in the center was the grandest castle in all of Auradon, with lavish turrets and balconies, its highest towers flying the proud blue-and-gold banner of the good old USA. Inside the magnificent building were many ballrooms, great rooms and state rooms, a formal dining room that could seat hundreds, where everyone was made to feel like a pampered guest, and a wondrous library that held all the books that were ever written.

  This was all fitting, of course, because this was Castle Beast, home of King Beast and Queen Belle, the seat of Auradon. Twenty years ago, King Beast united all the fairy-tale lands into one under his crown; and for the past two decades he had ruled over its good citizens with strong and fair judgment, and only occasionally a tiny bit of his beastly temper.

  Belle had a calming influence on the hotheaded Beast: she was not just the love of his life but the pacifier of his moods, the voice of reason in a gathering storm, and the mother of his only child.