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“Of Mal? No,” said Carlos again. “I used to be, but not anymore. Mal’s…changed.”
“Crikey! You mean she’s a lizard too?” said Harry.
“No. Mal’s not a lizard,” he told them, rolling his eyes as Evie tried not to laugh. Carlos remembered why he didn’t miss hanging out with Harry and Jace. Conversation tended to go around in circles. “Hey, do you guys know where my mother is?”
“Who?” asked Jace, affecting a blank look.
“Cruella de Vil!” yelled Carlos.
Harry and Jace exchanged shifty looks. “Don’t worry ’bout your mama, now; we’re here, right?” said Harry.
“Righto, guvnor, welcome home!” said Jace, with a menacing glint in his eye.
“Shhh,” said Harry. “Don’t spoil it.”
“Spoil what?” Carlos wanted to know.
But the two junior henchmen wouldn’t say and only laughed uproariously. Obviously, something was up, and it made Carlos’s stomach churn. Harry and Jace had never been good at keeping evil schemes to themselves, and it sounded as if that’s exactly what was about to hatch here.
Jafar’s Junk Shop looked as it always did, like a dilapidated dump. Through the grimy window, Jay could see the shelves filled with broken radios, lamps, and chairs as well all manner of old appliances that no one used anymore. Jafar had filled his mind with dreams of endless riches, and Jay used to imagine that all the twisted and rusted metal and the knockoff jewelry they sold would magically turn into piles of real gold and jewels. Of course, that never happened.
Jay picked the locks on the front door (all twenty-four of them) and let himself inside, skulking around a little, afraid of what his father would say when he saw him. “Dad?” he whispered. “Dad? Are you here?” he asked, a little more loudly. The air was musty and stale, and a fine layer of dust covered the gadgets and trinkets on the counters. There was no answer, until a rusty squawk from the back of the room echoed, “Dad? Dad? Dad?”
Jay ran to the private sitting area behind the shop, pushing back the heavy velvet curtains to find Iago, Jafar’s loyal parrot, looking terribly scrawny and out of sorts, with molted feathers covering the newspaper at the bottom of his cage. The bird practically snorted and put his wings on his hips when he saw Jay, as if to say, About time, kid!
“Where’s Jafar?” Jay asked.
“Gone,” said Iago. “Gone gone gone gone gone.”
If there was one thing Jafar could be said to care about, it was his loyal sidekick. Jay didn’t think his father would leave Iago to starve, so wherever he’d gone, he must have expected to return shortly. Jay changed the newspapers and refilled the bird’s water and cracker supply.
“You don’t know where Dad went?” Jay asked.
“Gone gone gone gone gone” was all Iago said, stuffing his beak with crackers as fast as he could.
Jay sighed. The cranky parrot had never been much help in the past, so of course he was no help now. He checked the rest of the shop for any small clue or indication as to where Jafar could have gone, but didn’t find anything helpful. Where had his father disappeared to? The only place the villains ever talked about going was Auradon; they were obsessed with returning to their true homes. Growing up, Jay recalled his father telling him how Agrabah was its most beautiful kingdom, with the Sultan’s Palace and its golden domes high up north, past the Great Wall.
There was a knock on the door. “Are you open?”
“Sure,” said Jay. “Come in!” He figured whoever it was might be able to tell him something about his father’s disappearance.
Big Murph, a young pirate who ran with Hook’s crew, walked in, an eye patch over one eye, a red bandanna tied around his forehead, and a faded yellow vest over a dirty T-shirt and holey shorts. Like the rest of his kin, Big Murph only wore shower sandals, even when it snowed. “Hey, Jafar, glad to see you open up again, we’re out of fishing…”
The stout pirate stopped short when he saw Jay. “Oh! It’s you!”
“Hey, Big Murph, what’s up?” Jay asked. He liked Big Murph and the pirates. The big guy was usually friendly and Captain Hook had asked Jay to join their crew a couple of times, telling him they could use a talented thief among their ranks, but he had always passed. He wasn’t a big fan of scurvy.
“JAY!” Big Murph said, looking fearful as a few more people wandered into the Junk Shop to browse. He looked around the shop. “You’re really back?” he asked suspiciously.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Big Murph continued to look askance at Jay. “Is it true—that Mal and Evie and Carlos are back from Auradon too?”
Jay leaned on a counter and crossed his arms, still unsure of what this was all about; the pirate was sure acting cagey. “Yes, we’re here to, um, visit our aged relatives. Do you know where my dad is, by the way?” It was still hard to believe his father wasn’t at home as Jay recalled that most days Jafar was too lazy to get up from his divan.
Big Murph shook his head and wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“No clue, huh?” said Jay, who was starting to feel that the big man wasn’t quite telling him the whole truth.
