Rise of the Isle of the Lost Page 7

  He gripped the hilt. It was a saber, which was a heavier fencing blade, not like one of those flimsy ones that arched at the lightest touch. This one had some weight to it, so if you landed on it wrong it might just slice you, but Jay guessed that was why they wore the heavy jackets. Body armor. And he knew how to do it; he’d done it all the time back on the Isle of the Lost.

  But when he tried to run up the wall this time, he fell flat on his face, and just barely missed cutting himself with the sword.

  That was the problem with walls. They were rather solid things, and you were generally meant to stand next to them, not on them. He was just out of practice, he decided, so he tried again. He began with a running start, jumped, and hit the wall—planning to run up its side—but when he struck the surface, he collided into it with such force that he simply sank to the floor. Actually, he crashed to the floor. Jay turned so both of his shoulders lay flat, his eyes facing the ceiling. He had to try again. He wouldn’t give up so easily.

  The second jump was worse than the first. He had to toss the blade aside just to keep it from ramming a hole in his neck. This time when he hit the floor he came down hard on his back again. Every bit of him ached when he stood. The third jump yielded similar results. On the fourth he actually abandoned the jump midway through the act. He knew what was coming. He knew he’d have to toss the blade, and he could see exactly how his shoulder was going to strike that floor.

  He was learning, but unfortunately, he was learning how not to R.O.A.R. He tossed the sword aside and ran up the wall easily. It was the addition of the sword that was the problem.

  “You’re doing it all wrong,” said a voice, and Jay turned to see Lonnie’s older brother, Li’l Shang, holding up a sword. Li’l Shang had graduated from Auradon Prep the year before, and was an assistant coach of the team, taking a gap year before going home to rule his kingdom and launch his hip-hop career. “Want some help?”

  Jay was about to shake his head. His pride was bruised. And it was still hard for him to accept help when it was offered. No one on the Isle ever helped anyone else out. But he had to remind himself he was in Auradon now, and they did things differently here. Plus, it had been beyond annoying to lose to Chad Charming.

  “Yeah, yeah, I guess I do want help,” he admitted.

  “Okay, let’s start now,” said Li’l Shang. The gym had already cleared.

  “Should we grab swords?” Jay asked.

  “I don’t think you’re ready for those just yet.”

  “Ouch, that hurts.”

  “I’m just being honest.”

  “So where do we start?”

  “Well, I saw how you lost your fight. Chad made a great jump. You were trying to practice that move—weren’t you?”

  Jay shrugged. “Yeah, I mean I used to be able to jump, you know? But not with a sword.”

  “Let’s practice the basics first. Each time you hit the wall or the floor you want to lengthen the time of impact, slow it down so your whole body absorbs the force. And don’t just kick off with your feet. Try putting a hand on the wall. It’ll keep you steady and spread out the force of impact. Same goes for the landing. Move your whole body. You need to bend your back and knees; your arms too. Remember: slow down the impact, spread it out. That’s how to jump.”

  “Okay, so slow it down. And use my whole body.”

  Jay took one step, two. Li’l Shang stopped him dead in his tracks. “Take a few more steps, open up your stride and give yourself a little more height so you have time to flex your body while it’s still in the air.”

  Jay nodded, absorbing the information. He started again. He took three steps, four, five this time—big, long strides. On the last one he leaped, trying not to stay rigid, spreading his arms, spider-like, and letting two hands touch the wall at the same moment that his feet struck it. It was perfect. He was completely enamored with himself. Unfortunately he fell straight down to the floor.

  “Good start,” said Li’l Shang. “Better than I would have guessed for a first-timer, but never get cocky. You hit the wall right, but you need to immediately spring backward. Take the force of your own impact and turn it around into another leap. Try again.”

  He did. He tried twice more, and then a third time. Each was a tad less embarrassing than the previous one. He wasn’t sure how many jumps it took, but after a while the landings stopped hurting. It all started to feel natural.

  Li’l Shang handed Jay back his sword. Jay accepted it gladly. It was time to move on to the good stuff: swordplay.

  He leveled the saber, ready for a real fight.

  But Li’l Shang just shook his head.

  “The first thing is that you’re holding it wrong,” he said, fixing Jay’s grip.

  Jay was surprised; he thought he knew how to hold a sword.

  “You shouldn’t hold it that tightly,” Li’l Shang continued. “You need to keep your wrist loose, keep your grip light so you can move quickly. If you hold it too tightly, you’re locked into a position and won’t be able to dodge or parry.”

  Jay looked down at his fist: he’d gripped his sword so hard his knuckles were strained white. He relaxed just a little bit and found it was easier to hold once he wasn’t choking it.

  “The next thing you need to remember about making the R.O.A.R. team is that it’s all about balance—kind of like the jumps we practiced. But now we’re using swords. It’s almost like a choreographed dance: you’ll learn to move on every surface, and use flips and kicks along with sword-fighting,” said Li’l Shang. He sprinted across the gym and launched himself against the wall, running up it diagonally, until he flipped backward and landed on his feet.

  “Nice,” said Jay.

  Li’l Shang bowed. “It’s all practice.” He tapped Jay’s sword with his. “En garde!” he called. “It means, on your guard. Every duel starts with it. It’s a tradition.”

  “En garde!” echoed Jay.

  They circled each other around the mat. “You have to be nimble, and lead your opponent. If you’re just reacting to their blows, you’re going to lose. You have to set the tone.” He attacked with a series of lunges, moving left and right, then leaping atop a chair to land at Jay’s side, pressing his sword to Jay’s neck.

  “Um…” said Jay.

  Li’l Shang gave him a generous smile. “Let’s try that again. R.O.A.R. isn’t fencing. It’s not linear. We aren’t simply advancing and retreating. You can move sideways, off a wall, off anything. Think of it as 3-D fencing. Your opponent can literally jump out at you from any direction, so you have to be ready to defend yourself against an attack that could come from any direction.”

  “How?”

  “In fencing we protect ourselves from the front, but, like I said, in R.O.A.R. an attacker can approach from any angle. So you need a whole new set of moves. The side-parry, the backward block, the over-the-shoulder cut. These are R.O.A.R. moves. Let me show you.”

  Shang went through each one, carefully displaying the move, then helping Jay copy it. Shang had just given him a whole new set of tools, for a whole different kind of fighting. Jay was ready to R.O.A.R.!

  This time, Jay was able to not only block his coach’s sword but push forward so that it was his opponent who found himself stepping backward. Jay kept advancing aggressively, the sword singing through the air as if he’d been born wielding one. He even attempted to run up the wall to dodge a blow. As he fought, his confidence grew, and he flipped, cartwheeling in the air when his coach tried to slash forward. He landed just as Shang had instructed, bending his whole body, flexing every muscle, one hand touching the floor just as his feet struck it.

  “Better.” Li’l Shang nodded. “Much better. We’ve worked on your jumps and your R.O.A.R. moves, but you still aren’t bringing the two together.”

  “But I almost beat you!”

  “I was just going easy on you. This is going to take a lot more practice on your part. Keep trying to improve your jumps and don’t let the sword be a detriment
to your movement. You’re still too afraid that you are going to poke yourself with that thing. Use the sword as if it were part of your body. Quit holding it at arm’s length. Flex your sword arm when you hit the wall and when you land. And don’t separate your jumps from your attacks. Some of the best fighters will strike with their blade midway through a jump, or just as they hit the ground they’ll roll into a lunge instead of planting their feet.”

  Jay tried a few of these moves. R.O.A.R. was definitely a hybrid sport, and it took fencing to a whole new level, but he felt like he knew the basics now. Unfortunately he was still back where he’d started: he needed practice.

  “You think I’ll make the team?” asked Jay. He knew he was acting a little optimistic, but he’d come a long way in a short time. How much longer would it take to master R.O.A.R.?

  “Sure, if you work hard enough,” said Li’l Shang. “My sister’s pretty good at this stuff too. You should practice with her sometime. She just left for Northern Wei, to help with an issue there, but when she gets back you should ask her.”

  “Lonnie?” said Jay. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, considering who your mom is. She’s on the team?”

  But Li’l Shang didn’t have time to answer. The gym doors banged open, and Carlos, Evie, and Mal entered, calling Jay’s name and looking distressed.

  “What’s up?” Jay asked, putting down his sword. “You guys look like someone just told you we had to go to back to the Isle of the Lost.”

  “We might have to,” said Mal.

  Jay raised an eyebrow and wondered what was wrong now.

  Now that she had a pirate ship and a pirate crew, Uma was in the market for a new pirate hat. Her old one had gotten way too ratty, and there was a hole on the brim that she’d covered up with duct tape. She needed something that told the world she was large and in charge. She puttered about the bazaar shops down by the central market around the Bargain Castle, looking at fedoras and trilbies, boaters and turbans. She’d brought Gil with her, who was trying on a succession of ridiculous headgear.

  “What do you think of this?” asked Gil, donning a black silk top hat. “Or this?” he said, as he switched it for a feathered creation.

  She ignored him, and continued to root through the racks. Maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea to let Gil on their crew. He seemed to be about three screws short of a lightbulb, honestly. But then again, he seemed very enthusiastic about doing her bidding, which was never a bad thing.

  “Uma! This one, right?” he asked, strutting up in a white ten-gallon cowboy hat.

  “No,” she said flatly, trying on a hat of her own and considering her reflection in the shop’s mirror.

  “How about this one?” he said, putting on a pointy velvet hat.

  “No,” she said again, picking through a deep selection of tricorn pirate hats that would suit any aspiring buccaneer. She tried on a couple, but nothing was quite right.

  “I think I’ll go with this one,” said Gil, placing a brown leather hat on his head. “Looks good?”

  “Not bad,” she had to admit.

  “I’ll take this bunch,” he told the sales clerk, motioning to a big pile by the counter of all the hats he’d tried on. “They’re on sale. You find anything?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll meet you on the ship,” she said.

  “Yup, see you there.”

  Discouraged, Uma left the shop, annoyed that Gil had been able to find something while she was empty-handed.

  “What’s wrong, dearie, give us a smile,” barked a goon by the wharf.

  “What about I give you a smile,” said Uma, removing her cutlass and placing it just under his chin. He yelped in fear and she kicked him away, growling to herself.

  Just as she turned the corner, she spotted the hat she’d been looking for. Crushed brown leather with a metal-studded brim and decorated with seashells. Sassy and stylish. It would look mighty fine with her cutlass and sword. “Yo-ho-ho!” she called. The lass wearing the hat turned.

  “What do you want for that hat?” asked Uma.

  “This one?” the girl squeaked, pointing to the hat on her head.

  “No, not that, the other one you’re wearing—of course that one!” Uma snapped, her patience wearing thin.

  “Okay…” said the girl hesitantly, removing it from her head and holding it out.

  Uma studied it, admiring its craftsmanship and detail. It really was a fine pirate’s hat.

  “You can have it,” the girl said suddenly.

  “Oh? What do you want for it?” asked Uma.

  “Nothing! I don’t want anything from you!” she protested. “I want to keep whatever I have, my voice, my legs, my soul, my humanity! Here, take it!” She shoved the hat forcefully into Uma’s outstretched hand.

  “Oh! Good,” Uma said, taking it happily. “Did you make this?”

  “Yes,” said the young pirate, looking sad to have now lost the hat. “I washed the leather five times and picked all the seashells, then I stitched the band with a grosgrain ribbon….”

  Uma shrugged; all her interest had waned now that the hat was hers. She wasn’t the type to make conversation anyway.

  “Nice hat,” said Harry, when she arrived at the ship.

  Uma grinned. “Nice ship,” she said, watching pirates cut down planks to the right length, nailing boards, and threading the sail.

  “Sweet, isn’t it?” he drawled, scratching his cheek with his hook. “At least once we patch up the holes, fix the mast, and see to the anchor, we’ll be set to go. I’ve got the crew working day and night.”

  Uma crossed her arms, hoping she appeared as fierce as she thought she did. It was hard work looking this awesome. “Good job,” she said to Harry.

  “Good job, Captain?” he said hopefully.

  “As if. You work for me, remember? Do I have to keep reminding you? I’m captain, you’re first mate,” said Uma, pointing a finger and stabbing his chest with it.

  “First date if you’re lucky,” said Harry with a wink, pulling on his collar and strutting a little.

  “Shut up,” said Uma with a laugh. “And see to that sail.”

  Harry swaggered away chuckling. Uma knew, try as she might, she couldn’t hurt his feelings. It was all part of the game of question-and-rejection they’d played forever. But a few minutes later, Harry swiveled on his boots and returned to her side, leaning in closely. “Uma, darling,” he said, in his rough brogue. “I just need to ask again—how are we going to find that thing in the water?”

  “Leave that to me,” said Uma. “Just get this ship ready.” She gave him a confident smile, but she was none too pleased by that pesky reminder. How were they going to find that trident?

  The answer came later that day—at the Fish and Chips Shoppe, no less. Uma was taking a break in the kitchen with Cook, who was feeding Flotsam and Jetsam, the two electric eels who had been Ursula’s sidekicks during her glory days. The eels were swimming in their tank, below an old portrait of Ursula that hung in the middle of the kitchen, as if to remind everyone whom they worked for.

  “Mama was really something, wasn’t she? Back then?” said Uma. Flotsam and Jetsam nodded in their aquarium, slithering over each other.

  Cook, a swarthy woman with messy red hair who always wore an ill-fitting white peasant dress with a red collar, had a faraway look in her eye. “She really was,” she mourned as she cleaned a fish and saved the guts for stew.

  Uma wondered what it was like, living under the sea, ruling the waves. “Those days will come back,” she said.

  “You think so?” Cook said hopefully.

  Uma nodded decisively. “I know so. I plan to make it happen. Finish what Maleficent started, get off this island, and wreak vengeance on our enemies!” She stared intently at the golden seashell around Ursula’s neck.

  “Hey, do you know whatever happened to Mom’s necklace?”

  Cook squinted at the picture. “It got destroyed; when Prince Eric defeated your mum it shattered in a
thousand pieces.”

  “I know that. I mean what happened to it after that?” asked Uma.

  “After?” Cook frowned, setting a pot to boil and adding sea slime to the broth.

  “It must be gone forever,” said Uma sadly.

  “Hold on. I remember now,” said Cook, wiping her hands on her dirty apron. “It was too dangerous to have a thing like that just lying around, even broken. The pieces were collected and confiscated. They were supposed to go to that museum in Auradon. We heard they found the last two pieces just the other month. But then the embargo happened, so they’re stuck here,” said Cook, cutting up more rotten potatoes for curly fries.

  Uma was intrigued. “Here? On the Isle? Where?”

  “Who knows? We heard that professor, Yen Sid, was the one in charge of it. If anyone has them, he does,” said Cook with a shrug.

  “Professor Yen Sid has the pieces to my mother’s seashell necklace?”

  Cook nodded.

  “Well, what’s it matter anyway? There’s no magic on the island,” Uma lamented.

  Cook considered that. “True. But just because there’s no magic around doesn’t mean there’s no power left in it.”

  “What kind of power could it have?” asked Uma, confused.

  Cook whispered in her ear. Uma listened carefully. When she was done, Uma raised her eyebrows.

  “You don’t say,” she said. What Cook had told her was very interesting indeed. “Are you sure that would work? If I found the necklace and put it back together?”

  “Absolutely,” said Cook.

  “Uh-huh,” said Uma. This was it; her mother’s seashell necklace was the missing link. She knew exactly how to find the trident now. Ursula’s necklace was the answer.

  If only she could discover where Yen Sid was hiding it.