Rise of the Isle of the Lost

by Melissa de la Cruz

  “Aha! I knew there was someone here!” said Fairy Godmother triumphantly. She walked down the narrow dock, pointing her wand at the perpetrators. “Mal, Jay, Carlos, and Evie! What are you four doing down here? And with the royal speedboat?” She gasped. “Are you stealing it?”

  It certainly looks that way, thought Carlos.

  “Fairy Godmother! We can explain!” said Mal.

  “Yes! We were, uh…” said Carlos, as he vainly tried to come up with a plausible explanation as to why they had trespassed onto the royal dock.

  But Fairy Godmother shook her head, her lips a tight line. She kept the wand trained on the four of them and herded them away from the shoreline. “Shush, I don’t want to hear it till we’re safely back at school!”

  She bundled all the four villain kids into her van and drove them to Auradon Prep. They sat in silence in the backseats, miserable and scared.

  “What do you think’s going to happen to us?” whispered Carlos from the third row.

  “A lot of detention?” Mal whispered back. “That can’t be too bad, right? We’ll just have to bake a lot of cakes?”

  “Hopefully she won’t send us back to the Isle of the Lost,” said Jay.

  Evie squeaked. “She wouldn’t do that, would she?”

  “She could,” said Mal.

  “Oh no,” said Evie. “I don’t want to go back there.”

  “But it’s home,” said Mal, trying to soothe her friend. “It won’t be that bad.”

  “Mal, don’t you understand? Auradon is my home now,” said Evie, looking out the window at the array of lights from the sparkling castles that dotted the landscape.

  Carlos nodded. He couldn’t go back to the Isle of the Lost, not after everything they’d seen and done in Auradon. The thought filled him with a heavy dread. He couldn’t go back to scrubbing his mother’s bunions. He wouldn’t.

  “No talking back there!” said Fairy Godmother from the driver’s seat. “And no talking on your phones either!” With a flick of her wand, all their phones disappeared.

  When they got back to campus, Fairy Godmother marched them in front of her, holding the wand at Jay’s back at the end of the line. The hallways were full of students heading to dinner. Carlos thought longingly of his life in Auradon, convinced this was the end of the tale. He hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to Dude. The school would not look kindly on thievery. Or was it grand larceny? Marine larceny? Worse, it was exactly what the good people of Auradon expected from a few villain kids. Except they weren’t villains anymore, not at all, and they were only stealing the boat so they could help a friend. But what was that saying? About the path to darkness? It was paved with good intentions….

  A few students looked at them curiously, but no one said hello, as Fairy Godmother had a very angry look on her usually cheerful face.

  One student wasn’t deterred, however—Jane spotted them on the way to Fairy Godmother’s office.

  “Mom!” she said, stopping in her tracks. “What’s going on?”

  Carlos’s heart lurched once more, this time with hope. Maybe Fairy Godmother would listen to Jane! Jane could make her understand they weren’t doing something evil.

  He was about to answer her, but Fairy Godmother didn’t give him a chance. “Nothing, dear, get out of the way,” said Fairy Godmother, brushing off her only child, and striding to the front of the pack. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  But Jane wouldn’t be dismissed so easily. She fell in step with the four friends. “What happened?” asked Jane. “Why’s my mom so mad?”

  Jay looked glum. Mal shook her head. “I don’t want to get you in trouble too,” she said.

  “Evie? What’s wrong? Are you crying?” asked Jane, as they kept walking up the stairs.

  Evie sniffled but didn’t answer.

  They reached the landing and Fairy Godmother unlocked the door to her office. She tapped her wand and motioned the villain kids to enter.

  Jane caught Carlos’s sleeve before he disappeared behind the door. “Carlos? What’s the matter? What did you guys do?”

  “Help us,” Carlos whispered urgently. “I think we’re going to be kicked out of here.”

  “Kicked out?” said Jane, so aghast that she almost dropped her books. She stared at Carlos, shocked and wide-eyed at the very idea. “But you guys can’t leave!”

  “We don’t want to,” he said, feeling as terrible as he looked.

  “I’ll figure out something, I promise,” said Jane. “You guys aren’t going anywhere.”

  He smiled his thanks and reached for her hand. Jane gave it a squeeze, but had to let go as Fairy Godmother pulled Carlos into the room.

  It was too bad their little Auradon experiment was ending already, thought Carlos. He would have really liked to spend more time in Jane’s company.

  Outside on the dock, Harry was gathering the pirates together, slapping backs, readying the crew for the voyage ahead. Their merry band was ready, polishing swords and greedy for treasure. Once they found that trident and they were off the Isle of the Lost, there was all of Auradon to pillage! The thought brought them all much wicked glee.

  “I heard in Agrabah there are warehouses full of the Sultan’s gold,” said Desiree.

  “Don’t forget the jewels we’ll find in the Summerlands by the dwarf mines,” growled Gonzo, his eyes going starry at the thought.

  “Olympus is mine!” said Bonny.

  Pirates. Harry smiled. They were itching for adventure. First, the trident; after, the world was theirs for the taking.

  Inside, from the window of her small apartment above the fish shop, Uma felt a grim satisfaction as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The time had come. It was so close, she could feel it—this was the start of her revenge, the start of her ascendancy. No more tiny room, no more apartment drenched in fish stink. She didn’t need a fancy limousine to fetch her off the island, she would do it herself, cut her own deal, make her own way.

  “I’m leaving, Ma!” she yelled, and a slender blue tentacle crept around from behind the door and splashed her with a few drops of water. It was the only goodbye she expected, the only one she needed. She was off to find herself; her past would soon be nothing more than a memory.

  She clambered down the stairs, saying goodbye to it all: to that step that wobbled, and that patch of mold that could never be washed from the ceiling corner. She strode through the door and out onto the dock. Her ship lay waiting; the crew snapping to attention when she arrived in their midst.

  Uma regarded them with pride. Just that morning she’d had nothing but slow-burning frustration and a jealous rage. But tonight she had so much more—she was captain of a ship, with a first mate and muscle to boot, as well as a crew of the toughest pirates on the island. Her name was Uma, and before long, everyone in Auradon would know who she was when she lifted that trident and demanded her freedom.

  The first part of her plan had already worked perfectly. Sophie had crumbled like a piece of cake once Uma had threatened to set fire to the sorcerer’s hat, and she had given up the necklace’s secret location as soon as the flames had licked the brim.

  “Ready?” Uma asked Harry.

  In response, Harry gave her the usual pirate salute—which was no salute at all. He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “Ready.” He raised his hook, which had been polished to a high shine. It gave him an air of malevolence that she quite liked.

  “Gil?” she said.

  “Yes, Shrim—Uma,” said Gil. “And, um, do you think we can grab dinner after this? I’m hungry.”

  “Let’s go,” said Uma, ignoring him and leading the way.

  The motley crew headed down the wharf toward the Lost Revenge. They shambled past the rope bridge and toward the decks of the pirate ship, setting about unfurling the sails, hoisting up the jib, and removing the ropes that held it to the deck so it would be ready for launch.

  Uma climbed the steps of the forecastle and turned to face the heavy wooden rail. The f
oremast stood at her back, ropes flanking her on two sides. The crew gathered on the main deck. The ship was ready to sail.

  She drew her sword from its scabbard, the blade flashing yellow and orange in the evening light. This was her crew, her people. Time to put them in order. “Pirates! Somewhere on the Isle of the Doomed is a treasure chest that holds the pieces of a necklace that belonged to my mother! If we find it, I can call that fool Triton’s trident from the sea and use it to win our freedom from this island prison! Are you with me?”

  “Arrrr!” cried the pirates. A few grunts followed and a shrug or two. In pirate terms, it was a good enough reception.

  Uma slashed the air with her sword. “We ride with the tide!” she cried.

  “We ride with the tide!” roared Harry, raising his sword just as high.

  “We ride with the tide?” said Gil. He shrugged his shoulders, removed his cutlass, and waved it in the air like the rest of them. The rest of the pirates joined in, raising their blades and cheering in unison.

  Harry took hold of the wheel and kicked off the motor that would power the ship until the wind took hold. The Lost Revenge solemnly pulled out of the dock and into the dark waters beyond. A curious crowd gathered by the harbor to watch as it pulled away, some tossing rotten tomatoes at the ship’s bow in the usual Isle send-off.

  Harry steered the ship out past the shattered lighthouse, and through the fog he could make out the barrier over the Isle of the Lost and the waters surrounding it. But they had room to move, and when they reached the Strait of Ursula, the wind blew and the sails plumped at last. But the ocean waves were choppy and high, slamming the ship’s hull. They ran right into one, sending a spray of water onto deck, but Harry laughed as he peered through the mist and the crew seemed to take it all in stride.

  At last, they were off.

  Uma smiled, for once utterly gratified with how her life had turned out. She had her ship and her crew, and they were sailing to find their freedom.

  Contentment didn’t last long. “Um, Harry? Is this as fast as we can go?” she asked. The Lost Revenge had only sailed a few yards, and the dock was still in view. They had inched up the archipelago, but were still miles from where they needed to be. She paced the deck impatiently. First the necklace, and then the trident was theirs for the taking, if only they could get there faster.

  “It only goes as fast as the wind will take it,” said Harry. “Sorry.”

  “Right,” said Uma. “I get it: the wind hits the sails and off we go.” She looked up at the billowing white cloth. A single swatch of linen fluttered in the wind, held there by four ropes and tied to the foremost mast. But just behind it were not just one but two others. “What do you call those other masts?” she asked, acting a bit coy.

  “Oh, yes,” he replied, a bit sheepish, “that’s the mainmast just behind the foremast, and the one in the back is called the mizzen.”

  “I see. And these masts have sails as well?” she asked, still acting coy. The boy had to know exactly where this was going, right? He told her he knew how to sail, didn’t he?

  “Yes, I mean technically we do have three masts,” he allowed.

  “And each one has a sail or two?”

  “Three, actually.”

  “So why in the world aren’t we using them all!” she yelled.

  “Well, it’s the waves, you see; with all of this rocking it would be quite difficult—no, dangerous, to go up there and unfurl the rest of the sails.”

  “So you’re telling me we could be going two, three times this speed, and all we have to do is climb up there and unroll the rest of the sails?”

  “Something like that,” said Harry. “It’s not as easy as it sounds. Try climbing fifty feet into the air while the boat is pitching to and fro, and see if you can hold on. These things—”

  “I think I will.” She was headed toward the second mast before he could make any further attempt to dissuade her from climbing it and wrestling with the sails.

  How hard can it be? she thought. Climb the mast, untie some ropes, and it’s done.

  She looked at Harry with disdain as she raised her foot and caught hold of the first peg. She grabbed one and then another, and soon she was seven, eight feet in the air. The ship rolled and her face promptly collided with the mast; her hand slipped from one peg, her leg from the other, and she reeled. Were it not for that fact that her shirt had caught on yet another of the pegs she would have fallen onto the deck. Or worse, she might have landed in the ocean itself.

  Harry snickered.

  “I suppose this is that moment when you mutter I told you so?” she asked.

  “I might have,” said Harry. “But now you’ve gone and ruined it. I suppose I’ll have to come up there and help you out. It does take two to unfurl a sail. You know that, don’t you?”

  She didn’t. She hadn’t the faintest idea of how any of this worked. She only wanted to get to the trident as quickly as was possible, and if that meant a bit of mast-climbing, she’d do it. She’d already made it past the hard part, right?

  The boat leaned again, answering her question. This time she was ready, though, and wrapped her arms tightly around the mast. She wasn’t going to let her feet slide from the pegs a second time.

  Harry was snickering again.

  She had half a mind to stab him when he reached her.

  He held one peg tightly, balancing himself. “You’re going to squeeze that mast in two if you hold on to it any tighter,” he said.

  She immediately loosened her grip and regained her composure.

  “So tell me how all of this works,” she ordered. Each time the ship rocked, the mast swayed wildly, hurtling them through the air. Like being launched from a slingshot, she thought, her hands wrapping a bit more tightly around the pegs again. At this height, there were rope ladders too—a great number of ropes actually, all of them running back and forth between the mast’s various arms. There was more to grab on to, more to catch if she fell. She supposed she was a little safer at this altitude, but who knew.

  “See that rope?” Harry pointed to a tightly wound bit of cord. “Unwrap it on your side, and I’ll do the same on mine. Just hold the last little bit. Don’t let the whole thing loose…” he said, but she had already unwound the rope. It was easy enough. She simply pulled the rope from the sail and cast it off.

  Unfortunately, Harry hadn’t even started to unfurl his end of the sail. So the end she had set free caught the wind, jerking the boat toward its starboard side, which was a boating term that Harry would not stop using. Isn’t it just called the right side? she had thought over and over again, but now the word was in her head and she was using it.

  “This would have been a bit easier if you had waited,” Harry said grumpily.

  “Got that,” she said. The boat was turning rapidly to one side, threatening to pull them off course, but Harry was quick, his fingers nimble. The sail pulled at the ropes, tightening them, but somehow he managed to get the rope unwound, and the entire sail billowed gorgeously into the air.

  The ship righted itself.

  “Next time we do it together!” he exclaimed, and Uma made no argument. She was eager to get to the necklace and the trident, but she’d already twice seen where a bit of overeagerness got her. She’d nearly fallen into the drink (as pirates called the sea) and partially driven them off course. I think it’s time to listen to directions, she thought.

  Uma hated directions. She gave orders; she didn’t follow them.

  But she climbed to the next sail as Harry directed. This one had a plank behind it and a rail, so it was easier to balance as she undid the ropes.

  “Wait,” said Harry.

  “I know. I’m not an idiot.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Now!” he cried, and they both let loose the next sail. This one blossomed into a perfect half circle, snapping tight in the wind. They undid one more and then moved to the rear, where there were three more sails to unfurl. All in all, it was a lo
t of work, but each time a sail caught the wind, she felt their speed increase. By the time they’d unfurled the last of them, they were moving at quite a clip—the boat dashing across the waves, sometimes almost skipping from peak to peak.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad,” she said as they climbed down the last mast, the mizzenmast, as he’d called it.

  “You did nearly fall into the ocean,” Harry reminded Uma. “Twice.”

  The boat rocked once more, as if it too were reminding her of what happened. It swung back in the other direction, and both of them spun, catching each other and holding on to the mast to avoid falling to the deck. The increased speed had also added a bit more instability to their ride, making it slightly more dangerous. When the boat rocked, it did so with incredible force. It pitched again, and even Harry went fumbling for something to hold on to. Fortunately, sailing ships are webbed with ropes. He caught one or two and steadied himself.

  “Lost your sea legs?” Uma asked.

  “Even a good sailor needs a handhold every now and then.”

  She nodded as if she didn’t believe a word he’d said.

  “Oh, stop it—don’t we have a treasure chest to find?” Harry pointed out.

  They did. She’d almost forgotten about it.

  Uma stared out over the ocean. She knew the trident was there, and she also knew she was not the only one looking for it. But they were moving faster now, and she had to hope that they would find it first.

  “That’s all the sails?” she asked.

  “That’s it. I can throw an oar in the water if you want to paddle?”

  “I’ll let you do that,” she replied.

  “I’m sailing this ship,” Harry said—and indeed he was moving back and forth, checking all of the ropes that wound from the gunwale to the masts, from mast to mast and from mast to sail. And all the while he had to make certain the rudder was set in the right direction. He’d fastened it in place with a lash, but it needed constant correction. “If you don’t head straight into these waves they can knock you over, leaving you on your side. And then you’re done,” he said. “The sea is growing rougher: the waves are certainly higher, and the wind’s stronger. I hope this trident of yours is worth all this effort.”