“Sorry, sorry!” said Carlos, coughing from the front.
Evie nodded that she was all right and Jay offered a thumbs-up from the passenger side. “A-OK, except I think we lost the remote to the bridge,” he said. “It must have flown out the windshield.” He pointed to the huge hole in the middle of the glass.
“We’ll just have to find another way to get back,” said Mal.
“I guess we could swim?” joked Jay.
“Well, at least the crash took care of one thing. The car’s definitely hidden now. No one will find it here,” said Carlos.
They took turns changing inside the roomy back passenger area into their normal clothing and began the long walk into town. Mal checked the time. After all of their delays, they still had a few hours before the Anti-Heroes meeting was supposed to start. “Let’s meet at Evie’s castle a little before midnight,” said Mal. “For now, let’s split up. Each of you, see if you can locate your parents. Once we know what they’re planning, we’ll figure out what to do about it.”
“What do we say if anyone from the Isle asks why we’re back?” asked Evie, looking uncomfortable at the thought.
“Yeah, I bet they’re not exactly going to be excited to see us,” said Carlos.
“Tell them the truth, that we’re visiting our aged relatives,” suggested Jay with a grin. Soon they had reached the outskirts of town and passed Dragon Hall, following Woeful Way down to the familiar town square, cornered by shabby buildings on all sides and the Bargain Castle looming over everything.
“Don’t let anyone know we know about this Anti-Heroes club,” said Mal. “Until we find Cruella, Jafar, and Evil Queen.”
The group agreed. “Wow, this place is worse than I remember,” said Carlos, looking around. “And what is that smell? Did you guys ever notice that before?” He made a face. “It smells like…”
“Poisoned toads,” said Mal, who remembered what went into the daily coffee brew.
“Goblins,” said Jay, who seemed to have the foul creatures stuck in his mind.
“Garbage,” said Evie, who recoiled at the memory.
“Actually, it smells like a combination of all three,” Carlos decided.
Mal had to agree, even if a small part of her was happy to return to the familiar “comforts” of home. The outdoor bazaar was closed for the day, but the Slop Shop and Ursula’s Fish and Chips were doing brisk business. It was kind of sad to see how terrifically ramshackle everything looked, though. Mal used to revel in dirt and decay, but she’d been in Auradon too long, and now everything was grimier than she remembered. She really needed to chug a cup of toad coffee before she got too soft.
“Look at that,” said Jay, pointing to a poster of Maleficent pasted to the side of a wall. Someone had drawn a mustache on her face, and another person had scrawled MISTRESS OF LIZARDS over her forehead.
“Whoa,” said Carlos.
“You said it,” said Evie. “I guess they saw the Coronation; it was broadcast live to the whole kingdom, even here.”
When Maleficent was, well, Maleficent, no one would dare even think to vandalize her likeness. There were other changes too. Goblins seemed to have taken over the square. There were dozens and dozens of them, living in cardboard boxes and gathered around little trash-can fires.
“Where did they all come from?” wondered Evie, who had never seen so many.
“The Forbidden Fortress maybe?” Jay guessed. During their quest for the Dragon’s Eye scepter, they had run into a rather large and unfriendly goblin horde.
“Nope,” grunted a goblin when he overheard their conversation. He was a stout, runty fellow, and looked as if he hadn’t had a good meal in a long while. His green skin was sallow, and his yellow eyes red-rimmed. “We used to work the barges, but with the embargo, there’s a limit on how many of us can bring in supplies from the mainland anymore. Maleficent promised us freedom and a better life, but she got turned into a lizard, so here we are.”
“Sorry about that,” said Mal.
“You the one that did that to her?” the goblin asked.
“Sort of,” she replied as Evie pulled her away.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to strange goblins?” her friend scolded.
“Of course not,” said Mal.
“Mine didn’t either,” admitted Evie.
They walked through the streets, feeling the eyes of the island’s citizens following them. Mal realized that even if they were dressed casually, they were still better dressed and much cleaner-looking than anyone else. Their clothes, unlike their former neighbors’ wardrobes, weren’t patched and frayed, or ill-fitting and holey. Mal felt a new wave of emotions—a little proud, a little bittersweet, a little abashed that they looked so different from everyone else. And a little scared to think what their old neighbors now thought of them. Did the people of the island now despise them like they did the fancy princes and princesses of Auradon?