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“Hey, Mal, what’s up?” said Freddie, graciously pretending not to notice how rattled she seemed.
“Nothing much,” said Mal, then a thought occurred to her. “Hey, Freddie, did you get any weird messages or e-mails today?”
“Weird how?” asked Freddie.
“Anonymous weird?” said Mal. “Like maybe from someone from the Isle of the Lost?”
Freddie shook her head. “No. I don’t think anyone even knows I’m at Auradon actually. Not our old gang back on the Isle, that’s for sure. They probably all just think I’m cutting classes again.”
“Right,” said Mal. She’d only been in Auradon for a short time, but she’d almost forgotten how lax the rules had been back at Dragon Hall. But what Freddie said was interesting. Unlike the four of them, Freddie hadn’t received a message to return to the island, which meant whoever had sent those notes only wanted the four original villain kids. But why?
“You got some kind of anonymous note?” asked Freddie.
Mal decided she could trust her. “Yeah, saying I should return to the Isle of the Lost, and Jay, Carlos, and Evie too. Isn’t that weird?”
“Totally weird. What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know yet,” said Mal. “We’re trying to decide.”
“Well, maybe you should….Go back to the island, I mean. See what’s going on back there. I mean, it can’t hurt, right?”
“You really think so?” asked Mal.
Freddie shrugged. “I know if I got one I’d want to see who sent it to me.” Then she changed the subject and motioned to the heavily bolted doors and the armed guards standing sentry in front of them. “Is that where they keep your…?”
“Yep, that’s lizard rock,” said Mal. “The one and only home of Maleficent these days.”
“Phew, if that ever happened to my dad, you can be sure I wouldn’t be sticking around just so he could yell at me when he turned back.” Freddie shook her head, her pigtails bouncing. “And you shouldn’t either. You know if she ever gets out of there, she’ll come after you first.”
Mal bit her lip. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”
Freddie suddenly brightened. “But she’ll probably never get out, so you’ll be fine. By the way, if you do go back to the Isle, say hi to my dad for me.” She clapped Mal on the back and went on her way, casting long shadows against the walls.
Camelot Heights was located in the northern part of the kingdom, and the city of Camelot was in its center, flanked by Sherwood Forest on one side and Eden on the other. Ben had made good on his promise and had been traveling all day with Merlin and Artie in the royal carriage, with a retinue of servants and footmen following behind in a regular coach. Ben decided not to use the usual king-size motorcade since Camelot’s roads were too rough for cars, as most of its residents traveled by horse-drawn vehicles.
As soon as they set off, the old wizard was already snoring in the backseat, but Artie was awake and excited, trying out all the features of the carriage interior and playing with the sunroof, sliding it open and closed on a whim. “Dad won’t let us update our carriage,” he explained as he put on road-canceling headphones (carriage travel was notoriously loud due to wheel rumble) and eagerly flipped through every channel offered on the television screen installed above the back bench.
Ben settled in, amused, and let Artie have his fun.
The journey from Auradon City was a long one, taking them up to Summerlands and past Snow White’s castle, where they would stop for the night before making their way into the Enchanted Wood, then across the river through acres of forest lands, and finally into Camelot. Ben tried to relax in his seat, and sent a few texts to Mal to let her know he was thinking of her. No luck, she wasn’t responding, and so he closed his eyes and tried to rest.
A few hours after Ben, Merlin, and Artie left Snow White’s palace the next morning, King Arthur’s Castle crested high on the hill, proud and tall, its red towers glowing in the sun.
“Home,” said Artie excitedly. “Looks like they knew we were coming.” The turrets were flying both the Pendragon banner and Ben’s beast-head sigil.
“I sent Archimedes ahead with the news so they could prepare,” said Merlin, meaning his pet owl. He put his rumpled wizard’s hat back on his head and scratched his beard. “What in Auradon is going on here?” he said as the castle gates opened for the royal entourage.
Ben yawned and took a look outside the window. The entire courtyard was filled with tents and crudely constructed shelters. “Is it always this crowded here?” he asked as they disembarked.
“No,” said an irritated Merlin, stepping off the carriage and, in his haste, stumbling over his robes. “Something must have happened.”
Artie jumped down, and Ben followed, eager to stretch his legs after the long ride. They were greeted by quite a sight—and odor. The scent of roasting meat and smoke filled the air as people huddled around unruly fire pits. The people of Camelot preferred to live as they always had, and eschewed many modern conveniences. All well and good, thought Ben, except a little deodorant never hurt anyone. It smelled like the Middle Ages in here.
“It looks like the villagers have moved from their homes to seek protection behind the castle walls,” said Merlin, frowning. “The creature must have struck again,” he muttered under his breath.
“Make way for the king, make way,” Ben’s royal guards ordered, clearing a path through the crowd to the entrance to the palace.
“King Ben!” the people cheered as men bowed their heads and women curtsied. “The King of Auradon has come!” he heard people whisper. “Hope has arrived at last!”
