Rise of the Isle of the Lost (Descendants 3)

The pirate smiled a crafty smile. “He sure can, except he doesn’t know it’s gone yet. None of the merfolk do. Whoever took the trident isn’t owning up to it. No one knows how, but some goblins swear they saw it right by the edge of the barrier, and that it somehow floated over on our side. Which means it’s currently adrift in the waters around the Isle of the Lost!”

“But how did it get here? Through the barrier? Nothing can pass through that thing, not even underwater,” said Uma skeptically.

“Mystery, isn’t it? But the goblins swear it’s true. Something must have happened over in Auradon,” said the pirate. “Now everyone’s looking for that thing. Including me.” He grinned. “What would Triton give to have it back, right?”

Uma’s eyes narrowed, her thoughts racing. If the goblins were right, and the pirate wasn’t lying, then a golden opportunity had fallen into the Isle of the Lost. Triton’s trident was one of the most powerful magical objects in all of Auradon. Even if its magic wouldn’t work on the Isle, it was still valuable.

A thing like that could change her life. If Uma could get her hands on it, it would mean she wouldn’t have to stay here at the fish shop, slinging the house bilge and pouring drafts of slime. Her hand automatically reached for the locket she wore around her neck. Inside was a tiny piece of junk that her mother had given her as a child. “It’s all I have left,” Ursula had said at the time. Uma never understood why a sliver of metal mattered so much, but she liked holding it when she was anxious.

An idea had formed in her wicked little mind. Her mother had taught her about the power of negotiation, or as she’d described it, talking someone out of their greatest treasures and giving nothing of value in return.

If Uma found Triton’s trident, she could use it to negotiate her way out of this island once and for all. She could offer it up to King Ben in exchange for release from exile.

How would she get her hands on it, though? It was underneath the waters around t

he Isle of the Lost, which meant she would have to find a ship and a crew, and a way to retrieve it before anyone else found it.

But for now, there were stacks of dishes to wash (or at least rinse), plenty of grime to collect for tomorrow’s brew, and lots of crabgrass to sauté for Crab Surprise. (The surprise was that there was no crab in it!) Until she figured out a way to get to that trident, she was stuck on land, with nothing to show for her life but a bucketful of pond scum.

The next morning, Evie woke up early to get ready for class. Back at Dragon Hall, professors expected their students to be late, and chided them if they were early. The early bird catches the worm, but the tardy bird steals the worm, was one of the school’s oft-repeated pieces of wisdom. But Evie was in Auradon now, and getting up with the sun suited her. She’d worried her hair wouldn’t recover from the shock of frizzing when the talismans were destroyed, but it was her usual lush, cerulean mane after she’d washed and blow-dried that morning. Evie pulled on her favorite fingerless gloves, stepped into her stacked-heel boots, and looked over with a fond smile to where Mal was still sleeping, her purple locks peeking out from under a pillow that she always placed on her face to keep the light out.

With a satisfied sigh, Evie smoothed the duvet on her bed to make sure it was perfect, admiring her sewing machine sparkling in the sun by her desk. She straightened her garment rack full of dresses for clients and pinned up a picture of Queen Belle’s signature yellow frock to her inspirational pin board filled with photos of various princesses. Mal’s side was a little messier in comparison, with sketchbooks and paints thrown around the rug and a little graffiti over the headboard to make it feel like home.

Evie left the room, taking care not to wake Mal, and grabbed breakfast and a cup of chirpy-as-your-smile coffee from the happy workers at the cafeteria—a decided improvement from the black-as-your-soul lattes served up by the goblins back on the Isle. After, she headed to her first class: Life Skills without Magic. She saved Mal a seat next to hers, which remained empty even as the bell rang and class began.

Good Fairy Merryweather was writing some numbers on the board when all of a sudden the clock on the wall flew back to the top of the hour and an unexpected wind blew through the room, sending everyone else back to where they had been fifteen minutes ago. Evie blinked, and the seat next to her was suddenly occupied. Mal sat there with an innocent look on her face, just as the bell rang, right on time for class.

“Mal,” Evie said in a scolding tone.

“What?” Mal replied, even as she was holding a well-worn brown tome etched with a golden dragon on its cover.

“You’re using your spell book again, aren’t you?” she said accusingly.

“Hmmm, it appears that time-turning spell needs some work,” Mal muttered, as Evie peered over Mal’s shoulder to watch her write Those with villain blood appear to be immune in the page’s margin.

Evie shook her head. “Time turning?”

Mal looked sheepish. “It only turns back time to the top of the hour, and only if it’s been less then fifteen minutes. More than that and nothing happens, as I discovered the other day, when I was late and got detention,” she said in an aggrieved tone.

Detention at Auradon Prep wasn’t meant to be a real punishment like it was at Dragon Hall—but Evie knew that to Mal an hour of cake baking with Professor Merryweather was as bad as it got.

“Relying on magic can be a dangerous habit,” Evie whispered, as Merryweather started lecturing on points that would be covered in the exams next week. “That’s what Fairy Godmother says. If you solve all your problems with magic, we never learn how to solve problems on our own.”

“But isn’t that what magic is for?” Mal whispered back. “To solve problems? Isn’t that what Fairy Godmother did, when she sent Cinderella to the ball in a fabulous dress? Or when Beast turned from a monster to a handsome prince? Or when Aladdin got on a magic carpet and showed Jasmine a whole new world? Or even yesterday, when Fairy Godmother destroyed the talismans?”

“No,” said Evie, sounding even more convinced than ever. “I don’t want to lecture, but that’s not what magic is for. Magic is an expression of the unlimited capacity of mystery and wonder in the world. Cinderella’s goodness brought the Fairy Godmother to her, and Belle’s love for Beast transformed him, and while Aladdin was able to charm Jasmine with the magic carpet, remember when Genie turned him into Prince Ali and he almost lost it all? A dependence on magic can be a weakness. It’s not for skipping a tardy mark. The talismans were a special case.”

Mal chewed her pencil. “Okay.”

Evie put a hand on Mal’s arm. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I will try next time, Evie, I promise. Tomorrow,” said Mal, putting a hand on top of Evie’s and squeezing it.

Evie nodded, satisfied. They turned their attention back to class. The Life Skills exam would test them on the proper way to balance a checkbook without resorting to arithmancy, or even worse, a calculator. Merryweather stood at the chalkboard in front of a column of complicated numbers. “Now pay attention, because this is important. A balanced ledger means the number on this side equals the number over here. The test will have a list of credits and debits for you to balance.”

“What’s a checkbook?” Evie whispered.

“A book filled with checkmarks?” joked Mal. On the island, all transactions were done in trade or through the goblins, who kept meticulous records.