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Isle of the Lost by Melissa de La Cruz (16)

Mal tossed pebbles on the junk shop’s window so that they clattered on the sill. “Jay! Are you there?” she shout-whispered. “Jay! Come out! I want to talk to you!” She hurled a few more stones again.

“Who’s making that infernal noise? Doesn’t anyone know how to ring a doorbell these days?” Jafar demanded as he pushed the window open and stuck his head out. He was about to unleash a string of curses when he saw who was standing outside. “Oh, my dear Mal,” he said, his voice still as silky as when he had been advising the Sultan. “How may I be of service?”

Mal was about to apologize when she remembered dark fairies are never sorry. “I’m looking for Jay,” she said, trying to sound as commanding as her mother.

“Why, yes, of course,” Jafar said. “I will let him know. Please, come inside.” There was a pause, and then Jafar bellowed in a booming voice, “JAY! MAL WANTS YOU!”

“THERE IN A SEC!” Jay yelled back.

“What’s the deal with villains and birds?” asked Mal, entering the junk shop and finding Iago on Jafar’s shoulder. She thought of how Maleficent showered Diablo with so much affection.

“Excuse me?” Jafar asked, while Iago narrowed his beady eyes at Mal.

“Nothing.”

Jay appeared. “Oh, hey, Mal, funny you’re here, I was just about to head over your way. We should talk more about that—”

“That homework assignment,” Mal said, shooting dagger looks at him. Nobody else could know about the Dragon’s Eye.

“Right, yeah. Homework. Thanks, Dad, I’ll take it from here,” Jay said, indicating pointedly for his dad to leave.

Jafar pulled his robe around him and huffed, Iago squawking and flying behind him.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” Mal asked when she and Jay were finally alone.

Jay motioned to the junk shop. “What’s wrong with here?”

Mal looked around the messy shop, noticing a few things that were hers in the pile and taking them back without comment. She supposed it was as good a place as any—and seriously, what was she hiding, anyway? It wasn’t as if anyone else would steal Maleficent’s Dragon’s Eye. Who would be dumb enough to do that…?

She squinted at Jay, who was inspecting a beaker that he’d pulled from his pocket. His dark eyes shone with mischief.

“Where’d you get that?” she asked. “What is it?”

“I dunno. Reza had it in his bag. He was all protective about it, so I took it,” Jay explained with a sly smile.

Mal made an impatient gesture. She couldn’t wait to get started and couldn’t afford to get distracted. “Listen, I know you don’t think we can, but we need to figure out how to find that Dragon’s Eye. I mean, it does command all of the forces of darkness when it works. And, who knows? Magic might return to the island one day.”

Jay raised his eyebrows. “Yeah—I was just about to say the same thing.”

“Really?” she asked, shocked that he had taken so little convincing. She began to get a tad suspicious.

Jay blew on his nails. “Yeah. I mean, come on, if it’s really here, we need to get our hands on it. But are you sure your mother’s right? I mean, she is a little crazy in the horn-head.”

Mal rolled her eyes. “You can’t deny Diablo’s back. He was frozen in stone, but he’s alive now. He’s already eaten almost everything in our cupboards.”

“Whoa.”

“I know, right?”

“Iago’s the same. I think he eats more than me and Dad combined.”

They shared a chuckle.

“Okay, great—I was hoping to start searching as soon as possible,” Mal said, willing to overlook the possibility that Jay was only agreeing to help for his own selfish motives. She could handle him.

Jay was about to say something when he turned around, his reflexes swift and suspicious. “What’s that noise?” he asked, just as the door to the back room crashed down and Jafar tumbled through, Iago sitting on his stomach.

“I told you that you were too fat to lean on that door!” Iago scolded.

Jafar made a valiant attempt to take back his dignity, and pulled himself up to stand and brush the dust and detritus from his hair. “Oh, we were just about to ask if the two of you wanted dinner, weren’t we, Iago? But we couldn’t help but overhear…forgive me if we are wrong, but did you say that Maleficent’s Dragon’s Eye scepter is lost somewhere on this island?” Jafar asked, his dark eyes gleaming.

Mal narrowed her eyes at Jay, mentally berating him for not having found a suitable place for them to talk privately. But it was clear that it was too late, and Jafar already knew everything.

Jafar looked solemnly at the two teenagers in front of him. “Follow me, it’s time we had a real conversation.”

He led them to his private sitting room in the back of the shop, a cozy den full of jewel-toned curtains and Oriental rugs, tufted satin pillows and brass lamps and sconces that gave it a mournful, exotic, desert air. Jafar took a seat on one of the long, low couches and motioned for them to make themselves comfortable on the ottomans. “When I was released from my genie bottle and brought here to this cursed island, while I was whizzing through the air, I saw what looked at first like just an ordinary forest but upon closer observation was actually a black castle covered in thorns.”

“Another castle?” Mal asked. “Covered in thorns, you say? But that would mean…that’s…”

Her mother’s true castle. The Bargain Castle was a rental. It wasn’t their true home. The Forbidden Fortress. Wasn’t that what her mother’s real home was called? Mal had never paid enough attention, but it certainly sounded familiar. And where else could it be but the Isle of the Lost?

Jafar pulled on his raggedy beard. “Yes. But I’m afraid I can’t be sure of exactly where it is, though. This island is far larger than you think, and you could look forever and never find it, especially if it is hidden in the forbidden zone.” Nowhere, as it was called by the citizens of the Isle.

“Never!” repeated Iago with a ruffle of his feathers.

“That’s what I said.” Jay nodded.

“I had completely forgotten about seeing the fortress until now, when you mentioned Diablo’s return and his testimony that he saw the Dragon’s Eye himself,” said Jafar. “And if the fortress is on the island, perhaps it’s not all that’s hidden in the mist.”

“But why would it be here?” Jay asked, leaning forward on his knees and looking at his father intently.

“These things were too dangerous to keep in Auradon. And with magic made impossible by the dome, they are harmless now. But if we were to take back what is rightfully ours, perhaps we might have a chance against that invisible barrier one day.”

“Diablo swears the Dragon’s Eye has sparked back to life. Which means that maybe the shield is not as impenetrable as we thought,” said Mal. “But we’re still stuck with not knowing exactly where it is. There’s not exactly a map to Nowhere.”

“We can try the Athenaeum of Evil,” said Jay promptly.

“The Anthe-what of Evil?”

“The Library of Forbidden Secrets in Dragon Hall—you know, that locked door that no one’s supposed to go into. The one with the big spider guarding it.”

Mal shook her head. “You really think that’s anything? I always thought it was just a way to keep the first-years out of Dr. Facilier’s office.”

“Well, we have to start somewhere. And I remember Dr. F mentioning in Enrichment that the library contains information about the history of the island.”

“Since when do you pay attention in class?” Mal asked disgustedly.

“Listen, you want my help, or not?”

Jay had a point. It was a start, and she’d learned more about the island in one evening at the junk shop than she had in sixteen years. “All right.”

“We’ll go tomorrow, bright and early,” Jay said cheerfully. “Meet at the bazaar for supplies first, as soon as the market opens.”

Mal made a face. She hated getting up early. “What’s wrong with tonight?”

“The orchestra’s playing a concert tonight, there will be too many people around. Tomorrow’s Saturday: no one will be there. Easier.”

Mal sighed. “Fine. By the way, thanks for your help, Jafar.”

“My pleasure,” Jafar said with a crooked smile. “Good night.”

When Mal had gone, Jay felt his father slither up to him and dig his fingers into his sleeve. “What’s up?” he asked, even though he already knew.

“The Dragon’s Eye,” Jafar cooed.

“I know, I know.” Jay nodded. It would be the biggest score of the year.

“I would hate to think you’re betraying your friend,” Jafar said with a sorrowful look on his face.

“Don’t worry, Dad. None of us have any friends,” Jay scoffed. “Least of all, Mal.”

As they’d agreed, the next morning Jay met Mal at the crowded marketplace so they could “pick up” (read swipe) supplies for their journey to find the fortress. Jay hung back and snatched a bunch of fruit from a couple of tents while Mal stopped at a fortune-teller’s stand and traded a stolen pair of only slightly chipped earrings for a tattered pack of tarot cards.

“What are those for?” Jay asked.

“No one’s allowed into the library right? Where all those documents are locked up and sealed…”

“And the only person who has the key is Dr. F, and he loves tarot cards.”

“Glad to see you’re awake,” Mal replied.

“So, how sure are you about this whole thing? I mean, a little sure? A lot sure? Just-want-something-to-do sure?” asked Jay, juggling a few bruised peaches.

“I don’t know. But I have to at least try to find the fortress, especially if the Dragon’s Eye is there. Also, don’t you think it’s weird that we’ve never left the village? I mean, this island’s pretty small, and we’ve never even tried to look around.”

“What’s there to look at? You said it yourself—we’re probably headed for Nowhere.”

“But if somehow there’s a map of the island in the library, we’ll know exactly where in Nowhere we should be heading to find the fortress. There’s something out there, beyond the village. I know it.”

“But say we do get a hold of the Dragon’s Eye and it can’t do anything?” Jay asked.

“Diablo swears that it sparked to life!”

“But how? There’s no magic on the Isle. Nada.”

“Well, maybe there’s a hole in the dome, or something,” said Mal.

“A hole?” scoffed Jay.

“I told you, I don’t know; all I know is that the raven swears he saw it spark, and my mother wants me to fetch it, like I’m an errand girl. If you’re too chicken to come with me, then go back and steal some more crap for your junk shop,” Mal said, annoyed.

“I’m not chicken!”

“Yeah—more like a parrot,” said Mal.

Jay sighed. She had him there. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Maybe you’re right: maybe there is a hole.”

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