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“Nope,” said Big Murph stubbornly. “Shop’s been closed and we’ve been out of fishing hooks.” The pirates often fished from the piers.
Jay rummaged through the nearest drawers and found a bag full of hooks. “Here, take them,” he told Big Murph.
“How much?” the pirate asked nervously as Jafar often charged ten times the amount the stuff was actually worth.
“Just take them,” said Jay. It wasn’t like he could spend those coins in Auradon anyway. His dad would scream at him for giving something away for free, but Jafar wasn’t here right now, was he?
“Serious?” Big Murph asked skeptically.
“Yeah, go ahead, get out of here. Go fishing. Catch a crocodile while you’re at it,” he said with a grin.
A goblin brought up his items to the register and Jay rang him up. Big Murph was still standing there. “Guess it’s true, then, what they say about you guys,” the pirate said, almost defensively.
“Who’s they and what do they say about us?” asked Jay, making change for the goblin.
But Big Murph wasn’t paying attention anymore, as he was too excited about the bag of hooks. Then he checked the time on his pocket watch and jumped. “Oh, I’ll be late! Gotta run! But maybe I’ll see you later?” he said meaningfully.
Then he was gone before Jay could ask him any more questions. Was Big Murph talking about the Anti-Heroes meeting? He wasn’t sure, and the bad feeling he had about attendi
ng this meeting only grew. Whatever it was, it had turned a happy-go-lucky little pirate into a shifty-eyed mercenary.
Before he could think on it too much, Anthony Tremaine popped his head in the shop as well. The handsome grandson of Lady Tremaine curled his lip when he saw Jay. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, sounding terrifically bored. He had the same haughty way of speaking as his grandmother. “I heard a nasty rumor that you and the other turncoats were back on the Isle.”
“Turncoats!”
“Isn’t that what you call someone who turns against everything they used to stand for?” asked Anthony. “That little performance at the Coronation was ever so…good, wasn’t it?”
“What do you want, Anthony?” asked Jay, impatient to get rid of him.
“Jafar promised Mother a new shoe-stretcher,” Anthony said. “I paid him but he hasn’t delivered. I was hoping he was back to make good on our deal. Mother’s beside herself.” Anastasia still refused to wear shoes in the right size, preferring to buy them a size smaller so she could try to expand them through rigorous and hopeless toe-straining, as if Prince Charming would still change his mind.
“Hang on,” said Jay, looking through the many shelves and drawers, but he couldn’t find what he needed. “Sorry, looks we’ve run out.”
“Even if the embargo’s lifted?” asked Anthony with a smirk.
“Come again?”
“If you’re back, it sure looks like Auradon’s sending their trash to the Isle of the Lost again, doesn’t it?” Anthony laughed, pleased with his insult.
“Ha-ha,” said Jay.
“A joke,” said Anthony, with a shrug. “What are you doing back anyway?”
“What’s it to you?” asked Jay. “Who wants to know?”
“You know what, I’m too bored to pretend to care,” said Anthony.
“Fine,” said Jay, reaching out to shake Anthony’s hand.
Anthony gave him a strange look, but shook hands with Jay before leaving the shop. Now it was Jay’s turn to smirk, since he’d swiped Anthony’s watch for old times’ sake. It was so easy, just a flick of the wrist, flip of the latch, and it was his. Oh, he’d missed this. Jay counted the seconds for the snobby boy to return. One, two, three, four…
Anthony reappeared at the doorway, and he sure wasn’t laughing now. “Give it back, Jay,” he said fiercely. “Now!”
“What are you talking about?” asked Jay, the very picture of innocence even as his eyes twinkled with amusement.
“My watch. You took it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
