“Carlos? Why? What does he have to do with anything?” Mal demanded as they passed a tent selling colorful scarves, and Jay practiced his parkour by running across the walls and rooftops.
“Because he was the one that did it,” said Evie.
“Did what?”
“Punched a hole in the dome.”
Jay barked a laugh and dropped down next to them. “Yeah, right—as if that little guy can punch anything. Come on, Mal. We’ve got work to do.” He began to turn away.
Evie stared at Mal. Mal stared at Evie.
“I’m not lying,” she said to Mal.
“I didn’t think you were,” said Mal, her green eyes flashing. Evie met them with her calm blue ones. Finally Mal said, “Okay.”
“You actually believe her?” Jay gawked, sounding right then like Iago.
“I think we need to check it all out,” said Mal.
“But we’re headed to Dragon Hall,” said Jay.
“No, we’ll head toward Hell Hall first. I want to talk to Carlos,” Mal decided. “And you’re coming with us, Evie.”
Evie didn’t argue with that. Something big was going down. Something had started, the night that Carlos had turned on that machine. And against her better judgment, Evie wanted to see how it would end.
So, onward to Hell Hall they went; but now the two-some was three.
One more day of freedom before his mother came home. Carlos surveyed his domain. Considering that it had been the headquarters of a rather epic party earlier in the week, it didn’t look too bad. The Broomba had worked wonders. Then again, the place always was a bit of a wreck, so who would notice?
The iron knight who towered over the staircase was as solid as ever, the draperies just as heavy and dusty, the faded wallpaper and the holes in the walls lending just that ruined touch that other decorators on the island tried to copy, to no avail.
Carlos was enjoying the rare, relative peace in his house when it was shattered by the sound of the front door knocker pounding so hard, he was sure its booming echo could be heard across the entire island.
He opened the door, then slammed it shut when he saw who was on his doorstep. “Go away, Mal—haven’t you done enough?” he yelled from inside the house.
“Open up! It’s important!” Jay demanded.
“No!”
“Carlos!” That was Evie’s voice. “Something happened with that machine of yours the other night. Something big!”
Wait—what? Evie had told them about his invention? But she had promised! He cracked open the door the tiniest bit so that only his left eye was showing. “You told them what happened?” he said accusingly. “I trusted you!”
Evie pleaded, “Come on, open up! I brought you a pillow!”
Carlos opened the door grudgingly. “Fine. You guys can come in. But don’t even think of locking anyone in the closet this time, Mal!” He turned to Evie. “Is it made of goose down?” he asked excitedly. He hadn’t really believed she would bring him one.
“Yup, the vultures who brought it said the goblin who found it swore it’s from one of the Auradon castles,” Evie said, handing him a pillow in a blue silk pillowcase with a royal insignia.
He accepted the pillow and led them into the living room, pushed some deflated black balloons off the couch, and glowered at them. “Well, what did my machine do?” he asked.
Mal raised an eyebrow, and he immediately regretted his tone of voice. “I mean, care to enlighten me?” he asked politely.
“Evie?” prompted Mal.
Evie took a deep breath. “Okay, so the night of the party, Carlos switched on this machine he’s invented—it’s a box that looks for some kind of signal that lets you watch other TV shows—right, Carlos?”
Carlos nodded. “And music, and lots of other things, through radio waves.”
“So when he turned it on that night, it let out this huge blast of light!” she said breathlessly. “And it burned a hole right through the tree-house roof! We saw it go right through the dome!”
Carlos nodded.
“And the TV suddenly came alive with all these colors! And there were a bunch of new shows! Not just the usual Dungeon Deals and King Beast’s Fireside Chats!”
“But how does that prove it broke through the dome?” asked Mal, who looked skeptical, and Carlos couldn’t blame her. He hardly believed it himself.
“Because we’ve never seen those shows before! Which means the signal didn’t come from the relay station on the Isle of the Lost. Which means it had to have come from a forbidden network on Auradon…” said Evie.
“Which means…” Carlos prodded.
“The blast broke through the dome. For a second,” Evie finished triumphantly.
Mal turned to Carlos. “You really think that your machine did that?”
“It might’ve,” he admitted.
“Do you think there’s a possibility it let magic in, and not just radio waves?”
“Magic in? I don’t know. Why? Do you know something we don’t?” There had to be a reason Mal was here. She had to have some kind of angle on this. Mal never paid any attention to anyone unless she wanted something. What did she want?
He could see her weighing her options. Would she tell them? She didn’t know him every well except to tease him, and from what he’d observed so far, Mal wasn’t fond of Evie in the least. Jay might be in on it—he had to be, otherwise he wouldn’t be here.
“Fine. I’ll tell you guys,” Mal said finally. “Jay already knows. But this has to stay between us. And Evie, no hidden backsies.”
Evie put up her hands in protest.
“Okay, so the night of the party, my mother’s raven, Diablo—who’d been turned into stone by the three so-called ‘good’ fairies twenty years ago, came back to life. And Diablo swears he saw the Dragon’s Eye, my mother’s missing scepter, spark to life as well.”
Carlos stared at her, and no one spoke for a long moment.
“But that would mean…” Carlos said, his eyes blinking rapidly as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Magic! That magic had been able to penetrate the dome for a second!” Jay said excitedly. He had been silent until now, looking around Hell Hall most likely to see if he had missed pocketing anything good from the other night.
Carlos himself was still trying to process what Mal had told them. It was one thing to get to watch new television shows, but it was quite another to hear that magic had penetrated the invisible barrier, and that Maleficent’s missing scepter—the most powerful dark weapon in the universe—had been brought back to life.
“Yes,” said Mal. “Diablo swears it’s true. And so now my mother has tasked me with getting the Dragon’s Eye back. Just in case it happens again, the magic returning. So that this time, she’ll be ready.”
Jay coughed. “And so, um, we should get on the road, Mal, before it gets too late,” he said. “You know I hate to miss a meal.”
Carlos could sympathize with that, especially since meals came so rarely.
“Wait a minute. Before we go, I want to see this box of his,” Mal said, motioning to Carlos.
Carlos was about to argue but decided it was wiser to let Mal have her way. “All right,” he said. “Let me go get it.” He ran through the safe way into his mother’s closet and returned with the machine.
He handed it to Mal, who inspected it closely. She shook it, put it up to her ear, and shrugged. It looked just like a regular box to her, nothing special, and certainly not powerful enough to break through the dome.
“Can you make it work again?” she asked.
“I haven’t tried.”
“Try.”
He hesitated for a moment, then fiddled with a few knobs and looked fearfully up at the ceiling. “Okay. Here we go.” He pressed the switch.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Again, nothing.
He shook his head. “Sorry. Maybe it was just a one-time deal.”
Mal
crossed her arms, looking stymied. Carlos knew that look—it meant she was about explode. What if Mal thought they were just pulling her leg? Letting her think they had made a discovery, when all along they were just making fun of her? He had to think of something….
“Wanna see the hole in the ceiling?” he offered. If Mal wanted proof, he could give her proof.
Mal thought about it for a minute. “Sure, why not.”
Carlos took them to his tree house, and the four of them inspected the ceiling. It was definitely there, a perfectly round, tiny black hole.
“Rad,” pronounced Jay, bumping fists with Carlos.
Carlos grinned proudly. He was still hugging his new pillow. He was looking forward to trying it out soon. Would he actually sleep through the night for once without tossing and turning?
Mal peered up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how much I believe your little invention actually blasted a hole in the invisible dome, but Jay’s right, we should get going.”
Carlos sighed, unsure of whether to be relieved or distressed. Mal was about to leave the room when the black box on his desk suddenly began to beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Mal turned around and stared at it. “Why’s it doing that?” she asked.
Carlos ran over to check. “I don’t know, but it’s been beeping on and off since it blew a hole in the roof and the dome.”
“Maybe it’s looking for a signal?” said Evie excitedly. “Maybe it senses something.”
“Like what?” he asked, looking down at this invention with something like awe. He never thought it would really work. But if Diablo was right, then this thing of his might have actually broken the magical barrier. And now Evie was hinting at something more? He’d only hoped to get a glimpse of the outside world, not bring magic back into the island.
“Yeah, what do you mean, Evie?” asked Mal.
“Like maybe now it senses the Dragon’s Eye! You said it’s never done this before. Maybe it’s because that’s never happened before. It’s never had anything to talk to,” Evie said, rather astutely.
“You think it could be communicating with the Dragon’s Eye?” asked Mal.
“Like a compass. Or a homing beacon,” said Jay. His eyes gleamed as he studied the machine hungrily, and Carlos put a protective hand on his invention. Jay was most likely already calculating how much he could get for something like it at the shop.
“Could be,” said Evie.
“She might actually have a point,” said Carlos.
“A homing beacon,” echoed Mal.
“I was just guessing,” said Evie. “I don’t know anything about anything.” Carlos wanted to tell her that she was selling herself short, when he realized that he always did the same thing.
“No, you don’t” said Mal sharply. “But you’re still coming with us.”
Evie jumped back. “With you? Where? I agreed to come to Carlos’s, but…” She shook her head and tugged her cloak tightly around her shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“No way, you have to help us find the Eye,” said Mal. “You’re a natural at this. You’re so good at it. I need help, and you want to help me, don’t you? Don’t you want to be my friend? I want to be yours, Evie.”
“Oh I—I don’t know….”
“Shush! It’s settled. And I’ll take this, thank you very much,” Mal said, reaching for the box.
“No way!” Carlos said, as Mal tried to pull it from him.
Mal tugged it to her side. “Let go, Carlos!” she growled.
He yanked it back. She was not taking it. He’d made it himself!
Mal glared. “I mean it! Let go, or you’ll be sorry!”
Carlos shook his head, trembling all over.
“Fine. You win. Keep the box, Carlos, but you have to come with us if you do!” Mal ordered.
“Come again? Go with you—where?” No way. He wasn’t going anywhere. Especially anywhere dangerous.
Mal told him about the forbidden fortress hidden on the island and where it might be and how they had to find it.
“Nope I’m not going to Nowhere! I’m staying right here,” Carlos said, crossing his arms.
“You’ll do what I say, you little…” threatened Mal.
Carlos opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. In the end, it was Maleficent who wanted to reclaim her scepter, not just Mal; and if word ever got back to the Mistress of Darkness that he had opposed or hindered the search in any way, he might as well start calling himself Slop, because that’s what he would be.
“Okay fine, I’ll go. But only if Evie goes too,” he said.
“Evie?” asked Mal. “You’re coming, aren’t you, lovely?”
Evie sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Fine. I guess I’ll come. Beats looking in the mirror all day for flaws.”
“So we’re good, then?” asked Jay. “Four of us looking for the Dragon’s Eye?”
“I guess so. And I guess I want to know what this thing really did,” said Carlos. “If it really did burn a hole in the dome and let magic into the island.”
As if in answer, the machine beeped.
Beep!
Mal nodded. “All right, then, let’s go. We’ve got a library to break into and a map to find.”
“Not just yet,” Carlos said, raising a hand. “We can’t go anywhere until my chores are done. And it’s laundry day.”
Her mother was a famous beauty in a land of famous beauties, and so it was only to be expected that Princess Audrey, daughter of Aurora, was gifted with the same lilting voice, lovely thick hair, swan-like neck, and deep, dark eyes that could drown a prince in their warm embrace.
Like a kitten scenting catnip—or perhaps like an isle of banished former villains sensing magic—a young prince could hardly be expected to resist such sparkly, dimpled charms. In point of fact, Princess Audrey, like her mother before her, was exactly the sort of princess who gave princesses their rather princessy reputation—right down to her very last perfect curl and the last crystal stitched into her silken gown.
And so it was to Princess Audrey that Prince Ben went the next day, to lick his wounds and seek some comfort after the disastrous meeting of the King’s Council—like the discouraged, catnip-seeking kitten he was.
“It’s such a mess,” he told her as they walked around the garden of the “Cottage,” as Aurora and Phillip’s grand castle was nicknamed after King Hubert had declared that the forty-room palace was a mere starter home for the royal newlyweds. “Starter home?” Aurora had said. “What are you possibly imagining that we’ll start? A shelter for homeless giants?” The king had not been pleased to hear it, but Aurora was a simple girl and had lived as Briar Rose for eighteen years of her life in an actual cottage in the woods, so she found the castle more than spacious enough for her family. (And at least one or two stray passing giants.)
“So what happens now?” Audrey asked, looking perfectly charming with a flower in her hair. Naturally, it happened to match the silken lining of her dusty-rose bodice. “Surely even a prince can’t be expected to do everything right the very first time he tries?”
Easy for you to say, Ben thought.
A dove alighted on Audrey’s shoulder, cooing sweetly. Audrey lifted one pale-pink nail, and the dove nuzzled her gentle fingertip. Ben found himself looking around for the royal portraitist.
Ben sighed.
Somehow, even the sight of his beautiful girlfriend wasn’t enough to lift the prince’s somber mood. “Dad says I have to hold another meeting to fix it. He’s disappointed, of course, and he’s had to send conciliatory gift baskets of his favorite cream cakes to everyone who was there, so he’s not in the best mood. You know how much he likes his cream cakes.”
“Frosted or unfrosted?” Audrey asked. “And with currants or chocolates?”
“Both kinds,” Ben said, sighing again. “More than a dozen each. Mom thinks it’s the only way to make peace, although Dad was kind of annoyed to give away so many of hi
s favorite treats.”
“They are rather good.” Audrey smiled. “And everyone does love cake.”
Ben wished Audrey could be more understanding, but her life had been charmed from the beginning as the pampered princess of two doting parents—especially Aurora, who been separated from her own mother and forced to spend her formative years in a fairy foster home, under the threat of a deadly curse. “My daughter will never know anything but love and beauty and peace and joy,” Aurora had declared. And she had meant it. So it wasn’t hard to see now why Audrey couldn’t understand how Ben could ever disappoint his parents. She never had.
And she never will, he thought.
Like almost everything in Auradon, Audrey was perfectly sweet, perfectly gentle, and if Ben were honest, sometimes perfectly boring. There were other colors, aside from pink and pale turquoise. There were other animals, who liked to do things other than coo and cuddle. There were perhaps also other topics than gowns and gardens and balls and carriages—no matter how good the custom paint job on the latest chariots was.
Weren’t there?
“I don’t even know what those sidekicks are so upset about,” Audrey said. “They’re so adorable, and everyone loves them. Why would they bother with things like wages and hours and”—she paused to shudder—“credit?” She stroked the dove. “Those aren’t lovely things at all.”
He looked at her. “I don’t know, exactly. I’d never thought about it before, but I can’t stop thinking about it now. I’d never imagined that anyone in Auradon didn’t live exactly like we do, in our castles, with our servants. And our silk sheets and breakfast trays and rose gardens.”
“I love rose gardens,” said Audrey with a smile. “And I love the ones with topiaries shaped like adorable creatures.” She giggled in delight at the thought, and the dove on her shoulder chirped back agreeably.
“They said I was rude,” he lamented. “And I was.”
“The elephants are my favorite. With those cute little trunks.”
“But I didn’t have a choice—they weren’t listening to me. They also said I lost my temper.” He hung his head, ashamed of the scene he had caused.