Return to the Isle of the Lost (17 page)

W
hen she had been a student at Dragon Hall, Mal had never been lucky enough to take one of Yen Sid’s classes, and so while she knew about his mysteriously “good” reputation, she wasn’t as prepared as the others for his lighthearted demeanor. “First of all, how did you know we would be here?” she asked.

“Well, once you received our messages, of course we began to prepare for your arrival,” said Yen Sid.

“That was you!” exclaimed Carlos.

“Of course it was. We couldn’t sign them without giving ourselves away—too many bad eggs around, you know, one can never be too careful—but we hoped you would figure it out, and you did,” said the professor. “I’m very proud of you.”

“But how were you able to reach us?” asked Jay.

“Freddie!” said Mal. “She was the messenger, wasn’t she? Because she just transferred over from the island, and so she knew how to use the Dark Net, and how best to get in touch with us.”

“You are correct,” said Yen Sid.

“What do you mean?” asked Carlos.

“I saw her at the library one night, I had a feeling she was following me. Plus, she’s the only villain kid in Auradon who didn’t get a message to return home,” Mal explained. “And she must have known I’d only take it seriously if it sounded as if mine was from my mother, which is why she wrote ‘M.’”

“But you still haven’t told us what this group is all about?” asked Evie.

The old sorcerer removed his hat and scratched his bald pate. “Before I explain further, let’s clean up,” he said. “The club knows there are different rules here, about keeping things orderly and neat. Slovenliness is a hard habit to break, but they’re trying.”

“Here, let me,” said Mal, gathering the plates while Evie grabbed the cups and the boys wiped their table down with napkins.

Mal tossed the plates into the trash, and looked up to see a group of younger kids staring at her with a worshipful look on their faces.

“What you did in Auradon, we think it was awesome,” Hadie, Hades’s blue-haired son, whispered.

“It really was,” agreed Big Murph.

“So cool,” piped in Eddie, with a snaggletoothed smile just like the one his father used when he was intent on drowning Duchess and her kittens.

Soon an admiring crowd had gathered around her, and Mal noticed similar groups were forming around Evie, Carlos, and Jay as well. “You guys really think so?” she asked them. “That what we did at the Coronation was awesome?”

“Of course!” Hermie Bing squealed, sounding just like an elephant in her father’s old circus.

For a moment, Mal believed they were all excited and impressed because she was the baddest in the land, but it soon became clear that it was just the opposite. All they wanted to talk about was how good she’d become. Mal couldn’t get over how wrong she and the other villain kids had been about the club.

“Wait a minute—I thought everyone was scared of me because you guys think I’m worse than my mother,” she said, holding up her hands.

“Oh, we
are
scared,” said Harry. “Totally scared to find out that the power of good is stronger than the power of evil!”

“Wait, so you guys aren’t angry at me? You don’t hate us?” she said, though she felt kind of silly even asking at this point, considering the cake and everything else.

The babble of excited voices rose in indignation. “No!” “Not at all!” “We love you guys!” “What is she talking about?” “She’s been gone, remember? She doesn’t know things have changed.”

“We want to
be
you, we want to learn how to do what you did,” said Big Murph earnestly. “We want to learn how to be good too.”

“See, when we saw what the four of you accomplished, we realized that we don’t have to do what our parents want us to do either,” said Hadie. “Though, admittedly, it might be a little harder for me, considering. But I want to be different.”

“We choose to be good,” said Yzla forcefully, as if this statement was a rebellious act somehow, which, considering they were in the Isle of the Lost, it truly was.

They explained that the club was formed right after Mal defeated Maleficent. The island’s misfits, many of whom had already failed Lady Tremaine’s Evil Schemes class and sometimes surreptitiously helped hobbled goblins cross the street rather than kicking them to the curb, realized that they were drawn to goodness rather than evil.

In a way, Carlos had been right, the Anti-Heroes movement
was
a radical group, especially since it was devoted to unraveling every tenet of the island’s dearly held wicked values. Mal’s actions on Auradon had sparked a revolution, one in which the new generation of villains on the Isle of the Lost were eager to follow in her footsteps. Mal had expected to find a group devoted to hating heroes, not to be the center of hero worship. It took a while to believe that they were sincere, but eventually Mal was convinced.

Of course, the members of the club told Mal and her friends they had to practice this new inclination in secret, which is why even the villains who were at the meeting had been rude to Mal and her friends out in public. No one could know that the members of the club were trying to be good, especially not on the Isle of the Lost. But thanks to Yen Sid, they had a place to be themselves now. Yzla explained that Yen Sid suggested the Castle Across the Way because it was far from town and had been deserted for a while. Plus, no one would suspect that anything but the plotting of evil schemes or cosmetics lessons was under way in the home of Evil Queen.

“Wait! So she’s definitely not here? Evil Queen isn’t part of this group? What about Cruella or Jafar?” Mal asked.

Before anyone could answer her question, Yen Sid stepped up to the blackboard. “Welcome to the weekly meeting of the Anti-Heroes,” he said. “We are now formally in session.”

“Can I ask why you’re called Anti-Heroes?” asked Carlos, raising his hand.

“Don’t you know? Think about it,” said the professor, his eyes twinkling.

Mal scrunched her forehead, and reflected on what she had just learned from the excited group of so-called villains. “It’s called Anti-Heroes because you’re hiding in plain sight,” she said.

Yen Sid smiled broadly. “It is the only way to hide.”

To anyone who stumbled on the Anti-Heroes thread on the Dark Net, it looked as if the club despised the foursome, but of course the photos of the four of them were simply recruitment tools, subtly telling members-in-the-know that this was the place to be if they wanted to be like Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos. Mal shared her epiphany with the group, and heads happily nodded around the class.

“That is part of it, of course, but there is another reason we are called Anti-Heroes,” said Yen Sid. “What most people don’t know is that
anti-hero
is another word for villain—or let me put it this way, an anti-hero is the villain that you root for in the story. An anti-hero is a hero who isn’t perfect. An anti-hero doesn’t ride up in a white horse, or have shining golden hair and wonderful manners. In fact, an anti-hero doesn’t look like the typical hero of a story at all. Anti-heroes can be crude and ugly and selfish, but they are heroes nonetheless. As flawed as an anti-hero is, they’re still trying to do the right thing. You are all anti-heroes, and I’m proud of you.” He beamed at them, and the group clapped and cheered.

“So just to confirm, this is a secret club to teach villains—sorry,
anti-heroes
—how to be good?” asked Carlos. Mal remembered how Ginny Gothel had said “they” were right about Mal, and “there was no hope for anyone”—she must have meant there was little hope for evil anymore, if even Maleficent’s daughter had chosen to be good.

Mal frowned. “Hold on, Professor. If this club is devoted to learning how to be good, am I right in assuming Evil Queen, Cruella de Vil, and Jafar have nothing to do with it either?”

“With the Anti-Heroes? No, of course not, they’re villains through and through, I’m afraid,” said the professor. “But speaking of the villains, it is very fortunate you understood our message to return to the island, as we desperately need your help in locating and outwitting them.”

“W
ait! So they’re not here? They’re really gone?” asked Carlos. “My mother, Evil Queen, and Jafar?” He tried to temper his relief at the news. As much as he had convinced himself he was ready to stand up to his mother like Mal had done to hers, he was more than happy for the respite.

“And if you guys don’t know where they are, does that mean they’re not on the Isle of the Lost?” asked Mal.

“Not exactly on the island, no. But not exactly off it either, at least, we hope not,” said Yen Sid, remaining maddeningly obscure on the subject. “Let me backtrack a little. It appears they vanished from the Isle of the Lost soon after Maleficent broke the dome open, but no one knows for sure. People panicked when they saw Maleficent turned into a lizard; they feared that Auradon would seek revenge on the island. In the chaos and breakdown that ensued, it was hard to notice anything out of the ordinary since everything was out of the ordinary, especially with the goblin embargo.

“No one thought it strange that Jafar didn’t open up shop for a while, as he was often irregular in his habits, and Evil Queen and Cruella de Vil mostly keep to themselves. But then the Junk Shop remained closed, and a few weeks later, a goblin who delivered the daily basket of supplies to Evil Queen’s castle reported that no one ever took them inside. They were just piling up by the front door, and even Cruella’s wigmaker remarked that she hadn’t come in for her regular fitting, so we knew something was wrong.” He frowned and tugged his beard. “I sent messengers to each of their homes, and runners across the island to see if anyone had seen them anywhere, but to no avail. They were well and truly gone.”

The rest of the group nodded, and it was clear this was old news to them. Carlos noticed that some of them were doodling in their notebooks or passing notes and whispering. Even if they were trying to be good, they were still naughty kids. He tried to ignore them and focus on what Yen Sid was saying.

“But if they’re not on the Isle, where could they be?” asked Carlos with a gulp. “You don’t think they’re in Auradon, do you?”

Yen Sid gazed balefully at his young pupil. “Before I answer your question, I would like to ask a few questions of my own.”

“Shoot,” said Mal.

“Have you been experiencing a series of earthquakes in the mainland? Small tremors, vibrations? And once in a while, a real rumble?” he asked.

“Yeah, we have,” said Jay as the four of them nodded in agreement.

“Have you noticed if they are becoming stronger and more frequent?”

“They certainly are,” said Mal. “I know Ben’s council is worried about it, since it’s never really happened before. Not just earthquakes, though—he mentioned that the whole kingdom is suffering from unseasonal weather: frost, hurricanes, sandstorms.”

“Then it is as I suspected,” said Yen Sid. He sighed.

“What does the weather have to do with the missing villains?” asked Mal.

But the professor was already scribbling in his notebook and ignored her question. When he looked back up at them, he had their full attention. “I think it’s time for me to tell you a little about the history of the island. As you know, when the villains were placed on the Isle of the Lost, Fairy Godmother, under King Beast’s command, created the invisible dome to keep magic out of their hands so that they would never threaten Auradon’s peace again.”

“I thought it was also because they were being punished for their evil deeds,” said Evie.

“In effect, it was a punishment, as they were kept here mostly to ensure the safety of the kingdom,” said Yen Sid. “But what we didn’t realize then was that keeping magic off the surface of the island created tremendous pressure in the atmosphere, and the magic that was kept out had to go somewhere else.”

“Energy transference,” said Evie knowingly, even as the rest of the club was falling asleep on their stools. It was obvious they’d all heard this before.

“Yes,” said Yen Sid, impressed. “I warned Fairy Godmother about the risks of the establishing the magical barrier, but at the time, we deemed it a better gamble than letting the villains run amok in the country with their magical powers intact.”

“Magic was pushed underground,” said Mal slowly.

“Exactly. Over the course of the twenty years since the dome was created, magic grew wild and flourished underground, where it created a system of tunnels, the Endless Catacombs of Doom, which compose a series of magical lands underneath ours,” said the professor. He looked at them somberly. “Some say these tunnels also include an escape route out of the Isle of the Lost and straight into Auradon itself.”

“Auradon!” cried Carlos.

“Yes, and this passage must be closed before anyone discovers it. I fear we might already be too late,” the professor said.

“A magical underground land right beneath ours that leads to Auradon,” mused Jay. “Wild.”

The professor frowned. “I sent a letter to King Beast explaining my conclusions, but I suspect Evil Queen, Jafar, and Cruella de Vil intercepted it. Maleficent’s goons used to go through my mail, and I’m certain that Evil Queen did the same thing when Maleficent was gone.”