“Because they miss us and want to give us hugs?” said Evie. “I’m kidding, I’m sure my mom only wants to know if I’m keeping up with my weekly mud masks and facial massages.”
“They want us to return so we can help them get their revenge on Auradon, of course,” said Mal. “Defeat only makes villains try harder. I can just hear my mom now, saying ‘You poor simple fools, thinking you could defeat me! Me! The mistress of all evil!’” Then she cackled like Maleficent.
“You’re scarily good at that,” said Evie, shivering.
“Thank you, I think?” said Mal.
Carlos shuddered and turned back to his computer to try out a succession of common passwords. None of them worked. He stared at the blinking cursor. “Dalmatians,” he cursed again. Then he realized if Mal was correct and the villains were behind the messages, there was only one way to find out for sure.
C-A-V-E-O-F-W-O-N-D-E-R-S, he tried. Nothing.
M-A-K-E-U-P was his next guess. He sighed with relief when it didn’t work, and E-V-I-L-L-I-V-E-S turned up nothing either.
Gathering his courage, he decided to try one more password that would link the messages to their parents.
D-A-L-M-A-T-I-A-N-S, he typed.
The screen froze and for a moment Carlos was relieved that his hunch was incorrect, but after a second it came to life again, and green letters began scrolling across the screen. He’d hacked it. He was inside.
“Oh no,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” asked Evie, squinting at the screen. It was a Web site unlike any they’d seen before. It was more primitive and crudely designed, with no pretty icons or bright colors, only windows of black screens with green letters.
“The Dark Net,” Carlos whispered, still staring at the screen, unwilling to believe it was true. “There’s a rumor going around that after the dome broke when Maleficent escaped, the Isle of the Lost was able to start up a secret online network of their own. And I’m not talking about the kind of Internet where people share funny kitten videos.”
“But we don’t have access to the Internet on the Isle. We’re cut off, remember?” said Mal.
“Maybe something happened when the dome broke open,” said Evie.
“Anything’s possible,” said Carlos. “Especially during that time when the dome let magic back onto the island.” He looked up at them. “Supposedly since the Dark Net is effectively hidden from Auradon’s servers, it’s a way for the villains on the Isle of the Lost to communicate with each other. Think about it, on the Dark Net, they can hatch evil plots without anyone here knowing anything about it.”
“So they use the Dark Net to send each other evil e-mails?” joked Mal.
“And post evil insta-messages.” Evie giggled.
“I’m serious!” said Carlos. “It’s not funny.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” said Mal, sobering. “With an online network, they can organize their evil schemes more effectively.”
“Yeah, exactly, so I’m going to poke around, see what else I can find,” said Carlos.
“But, Carlos, you just said the villains are behind it!” Evie cried. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“I would say Danger is my middle name,” said Carlos cheerfully, warming up to the task as his dog slid from his lap to nestle at his feet contentedly. Now that he had a new thing to explore, he didn’t feel as frightened. He could do this. “But my middle name is actually Oscar.”
He saw their faces and muttered as he typed, “Hey, it could be worse, right? Mal, your middle name is Bertha.”
“Unfortunately, yes. Anyway, see what you can find,” Mal said with a crisp nod. “But I think we have to make plans to return no matter what.”
“Return? To where?” Carlos asked, although he had a feeling he already knew the answer.
“To the Isle of the Lost, of course,” Mal said as she rolled up her sleeves.
“But why? We might be falling right into a trap,” Evie argued. “Isn’t that just what they want us to do, whoever they are?”
“Well, we can’t stay here—we need to find out what the villains are up to back home,” Mal said. “Plus, I’m not going to be intimidated by whoever’s sending these messages. We have to take the risk, or something like what happened at the Coronation could happen again.”
“We sure do,” said Jay, who’d appeared at the doorway, his face bruised and one eye swollen shut, holding up a crumpled piece of paper covered in purple ink. “Did you guys get one of these today about returning to the Isle of the Lost?”