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Chapter Text

Mal smacked the saloon doors open and walked in. Everyone in the fish and chip shop fell silent. Scraggly haired pirates and dock wenches of all ages hunched into their seats and gave each other nervous glances. What was the Queen of the Isle doing in unfriendly territory?  

Mal smiled, showing teeth. She coolly stalked past the mismatched tables and chairs. Jay was by her side. Swords were in scabbards on their belts, ready for use. He scowled at everyone and everything, looking for threats to his leader, trusting nothing to chance. On a dais at the back of the shop there was a high backed chair made out of twisted driftwood and fans of dried coral and starfish. The chair was a throne; and draped in it was Uma. Without fear she watched Mal approach, her ankles crossed and chin propped up by her hand. Mal stopped to stand before her and cocked her hip.

“Your Majesty,” Uma laughed, "This is a surprise. What do we owe the honor?”

“This is my Isle. I can go anywhere. Do anything,” Mal replied, “Even visit old friends.”

She side glanced at Harry Hook, who sat at a nearby table, turning his hooked hand this way and that so the metal caught the light. Harry gave a maniacal grin. “We aren’t yer friends”.

Mal couldn’t help it. “No? Shame. And we used to be so close.”

Jay snorted. Harry’s blue eyes flashed dangerously and his hand went to the pummel of his sword. Uma’s fingernails dug into the arms of her chair as she tried to keep her cool. Mal was pleased at the effect this dig still had. She had once tried to seduce Uma’s First Mate away from her and leave her weakened. Harry had almost fallen for it – fallen for Mal – and Uma would probably never forget it.

“But I didn’t come to talk about the past. Let’s talk business,” Mal said.

“Don’t need to,” Uma said, flicking her fingers, “I’m doing just fine. My crew work the docks, serve customers in the shop…”

Mal’s smile gained a dangerous edge. “and raid the businesses under my control.”

Uma put a hand to her chest, making a show of being hurt. “Your Majesty. I would never. Would I Hook?”

“Uma is a blessed saint!” Harry declared to the heavens. A rumble of laughter went through the shop. Jay turned his head sharply and the noise choked off.

“You’re telling me that this,” Mal looked about her with disdain, “is all you desire? This is the height of your ambition?”

Uma tipped back her tri-fold hat and leaned forward, staring intensely at Mal. “Well I did have a job in mind, but it’s currently filled. Who knows? Maybe someday soon it’ll be vacant…”

Mal stepped closer, holding the pirate queen’s gaze, her green eyes turning eerily greener.

Uma squinted and held the connection for an admirable amount of time but a primeval instinct finally compelled her to look away. Uma sniffed and flipped her turquoise braids over her shoulder. “What do you want, Mal?”

“Aye,” a lilting voice said into her ear, “What does the little witch want?”

Harry stood behind her and glided the point of his hook through Mal’s curtain of purple hair, the act disturbingly threatening.

“Hey,” Jay yelled, “Step back or lose another limb!”

Harry held up his hands in surrender, chuckling darkly. He gave a mock bow in apology. A whirl of his tattered red coat and he sat on the dais steps. He’d put himself between Uma and danger, and Mal made note of it.

Jay stood closer to Mal, arms crossed so that his muscles bulged, trying to make up for his slip.

Mal sighed. “Why do you insist on being childish, Uma? We shouldn’t be squabbling among ourselves.”

“What, I should work for you? Yeah right.”

“We should work together. That’s how the VK’s parents,” Mal spat the word, “managed to get off this rock.”

“Your parents. Not mine,” Uma’s eyes went black and pitiless, and her grin was wide as a shark’s, “Have a plate of calamari before you go, Your Majesty. On the house – I’ve got barrels of the stuff to get rid of.”

Mal kept her face blank but her stomach flipped queasily.

Everyone knew the story. While the other villains temporarily broke the barrier and sneaked out in the dead of night, Ursula went to retrieve something first. The sea witch wanted her seashell necklace back from Uma. The necklace was a useless trinket on the Isle of the Lost but in Auradon it was the source of Ursula’s magic, her power. And as Ursula snatched it from her daughter’s neck, she freely admitted to the villains' escape plan. She laughed at how her daughter would be stuck on the Isle washing dirty dishes forever.

Arguably, Ursula had treated Uma worse than any other villain had treated their child. Instead of raising her daughter to be her protégé, lieutenant or even a henchman – Ursula forced her daughter to be a lowly waitress and serve bile day in and day out.

Ursula’s abandonment proved too much. As her mother laughed and her tentacles writhed with glee, Uma picked up a filleting knife. People later found her in a kitchen painted black with ink, still holding the knife and wearing the necklace once again, the shell glowing faintly.

Uma sensed the unease she’d caused and leaned back in her chair, satisfied she’d gotten her own back from the jibe about Harry.

Mal raised her chin. Uma may be her biggest rival but that didn’t make her Mal’s equal. “Stay here then,” she said coldly, “and continue playing at pirate when you can’t even sail the seas. I thought you might have your sights set further than the Isle, but I guess I was wrong. Send word if that changes, Shrimpy.”

She tugged the jagged collar of her leather jacket up and turned on her heel, Jay following. She felt the heated brand of Uma’s eyes on her as she walked.

As soon as they were out of the shop and on the jetty Mal seized Jay’s shoulders and kneed him hard in the stomach. Jay’s breath was knocked out of him. He’d seen the move coming and done nothing to defend himself.

“If I want my back covered I should take a bloody boomerang to throw over my shoulder,” Mal hissed, “Never let Hook creep up on me like that again.”

Jay ignored the pain and straightened. He nodded. “My bad.”

She rolled her eyes and went in the direction of home. Mal couldn’t wait to take a bath. The smell of fish guts and rotting seaweed had gotten to her.

From behind barrels and out of shadows, her goons and minions showed themselves and she gave the signal that they weren’t needed. There wouldn’t be a fight today. Uma had been as gracious a host as could be expected and in any case, Mal had achieved her objective. She’d planted the seed and it would take time before it bore fruit. The idea of teamwork was not easily swallowed by most VKs.

Mal’s thoughts drifted, as it did every day, to the barrier and the world beyond. A world she’d never stepped foot on. The one her mother had deserted her for.

Her hands rolled into fists at her sides. Her eyes glowed with green fire.

“Just wait,” she whispered.

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Not long after Mal left, Uma had snapped at Gil to chase everyone out of the shop before telling him to piss off as well. Gil had obeyed of course, but not before throwing her his wounded puppy look. The place was now deserted and she was free to slump in her throne and brood.

Harry swaggered out of the kitchen with a bottle under his arm and gripping two shot glasses with his fingers. “Don’t panic, I’m here. Nearly slipped on a puddle of fat but I survived.”

“If you could bring the booze without bringing yourself, that would be preferable,” Uma muttered.

Harry smacked his butt down beside the throne. He crossed his legs and faced Uma. He winked as he pulled the cork out of the nondescript brown bottle. He took a sniff and pretended to swoon with pleasure. The smell of fizz was gut churning. No alcohol was brought over by the supply boats so the Isle folk distilled it themselves using rotten fruit. The result was ‘fizz’, a disgusting drink that killed lesser men. It was an excellent way to prove what you were made of.

Harry pored the fizz, the brown liquid sizzling as it sloshed into the glasses. He gave one to Uma. “Here you go Captain. To Queen Mal,” Harry announced, raising his own shot, “Quick may she fall over and die.”

The barest smile touched her lips before she threw back her head and emptied the glass. Part of the test was not making a face after, though the fizz burned down your throat and left behind the worst taste on earth. Uma never made a face.

Harry ahhhed after his shot and began refilling. “What do ye think she’s after? She can’t really expect ye to be her ally.”

“She didn’t use the word ‘ally’,” Uma said thoughtfully, “I don’t know. She’s planning something.”

“The barrier. The witch thinks she’s as bad as her ma and can break through the barrier.”

She shook her head. “Can’t be done.”

He popped back another shot and she did the same. He trailed the wicked point of his hook over his glass, seeming mesmerized with the screeching sound. “Still. It would be fun to see Pa again. And my sisters.”

Uma eyed him. The day Harry had discovered Captain Hook gone, and that he’d taken his daughters along for the adventure, he’d finally done what he’d always said he would. He chopped off his hand and replaced it with a metal hook just as wicked as his father’s. Uma couldn’t understand that, but she did understand why Harry looked forward to a family reunion with impatience.

“Run along then,” Uma growled, throwing her glass and smashing it on the floor, “Go be Mal’s pet in the hope she finds a way out of here. When she does, she can pull you to Auradon by your leash.”

Harry startled. He crawled to stand on his knees in front of her. “That’s not what I meant. Mal can go to hades. Or we can use her to get what we want. I don’t care either way. You are my Captain. And we ride with the tide.”

He stroked her bare leg with his hand, his kohl lined eyes fixed on her. She raised her leg to kick him away but he caught her foot and placed it to rest over his shoulder. He kissed the smooth brown skin just above her ankle length boot, mischief written all over his face. Uma glared, but did nothing more.

“Yer going to command the seas one day Uma.”

He hooked her other ankle within the curve of his hook. He slowly spread her legs wider. Peppering kisses up her leg, he edged his body closer. His lips hovered dangerously near her inner thigh and the strips of her skirt barely protecting her modesty. “And I’m going to be by yer side to see it.”

“You’ll have a hard time seeing anything down there,” Uma smirked.

Harry ran his tongue over his upper teeth. “Just a quick detour, please Captain…”

She closed her legs and stood up in one smooth motion. Harry groaned, grabbing her hips and nudging her stomach with his head. She slapped his hands away and brushed past him.

“Clean that shit up,” Uma pointed at the broken pieces of glass and left the shop, turquoise braids swishing behind her.

Harry flopped onto his back with a sigh and reached for the fizz bottle. He took a long swig.

Chapter Text

She’s standing on the shore of a lake. She doesn’t know how she got here but for some reason this isn’t concerning. The water is a stretch of gleaming sapphire, purer than the sky, and heartbreakingly beautiful. She could look at it for hours. She breathes in a sense of great contentment.

Mal jumps.

Contentment?

That word felt wrong, practically immoral. But here in this peaceful place it was hard to recall why that might be.

“Mal.”

She turns at the warm, familiar voice.

A handsome young man appears out from the pine trees, softly smiling. He has a strong jaw, honey brown hair and hazel eyes. But most distinctively, he exudes a kindness that makes her want to lean into him and take comfort.

Mal cocks her head. Kindness? Comfort? What in hades…

He frowns at her expression and crosses to her side in an instant. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

At the brush of his knuckles on her cheek, she almost closes her eyes in bliss.

“Nothing,” Mal says, smiling.

He grins back. His hand goes to hers and squeezes. “Come on.”

He leads her along the edge of the lake, looking back at her as if they share a secret. Mal glances at her reflection in the mirror-clear water. The figure she sees, graceful and lovely, disturbs her so much that she shatters like a pane of glass.

Mal’s eyes flew open.

She stared at the cracked plaster on the ceiling. It was morning; she could tell because thin walls couldn’t keep out the street vendors’ unholy racket.

“Not again,” she mumbled.

That dream was going to drive her insane. And not in a fun way.

She untangled herself from the sheets and got up from the iron cast bed that used to be her mother’s. Maleficent had the bedroom decked out in black when she used it, but now the walls were a mix of purple paint, electric green graffiti and holes in the plaster where Mal had taken a sledge hammer to the place after her mother left.

Yawning, she stumbled into the living room. A misshapen creature was sprawled on the couch. Mal stopped and blinked hard to bring it into focus. An untamed mass of blue hair was under a tasselled cushion. Limbs were at odd angles. And a ratty t-shirt was visible, badly matched with underwear that was barely more than a strip of blue lace.

“You haven’t gone home yet?” Mal growled.

An undecipherable mumble was the only answer. Mal stomped to the coffee table and the jumble of papers and books there. “You haven’t even looked these over yet have you?”

Sullen silence.

Mal rubbed her eyes. Evie’s sentimental collapses were among the top ten things she hated. Mal moved the cushion aside to see that she was wide awake.

“We were going to live in a castle,” Evie rasped, brown eyes staring at nothing, “She was going to help me snag the richest, most perfect prince in all the kingdoms.”

Having heard all this before Mal concentrated on putting papers in order.

Evie’s lips stretched into a bitter smile. “Everyone in Auradon was going to be a twitching mess at our feet. And she left that all behind.”

“No. Just you.”

“Bitch,” Evie said, either to Mal or her mother. “I had a future. She prepared me for it my whole life and – “

“Yep. Our mothers screwed us over.”

Evie sat up, eyeliner smudged and lipstick smeared up one cheek, looking like the living dead. “And I suppose you just want me to get over it?” she sneered.

Mal slammed her palms onto the coffee table. “No! I want you to stop whining like a little girl. I need you to do your job and look over these books Evie, these books that have my whole kingdom in the pages!”

The two glared at each other. Evie’s face was twisted with resentment, as if it was Mal’s fault she was unhappy, that her efforts to get Evie to do something, anything, were done to hurt her. “Go to hades, Your Majesty. I’m not your bookkeeper.”

Mal stepped onto the table and launched at Evie, papers flying and books crashing to the floor. Evie yelped and tried to buck her off but Mal grabbed her arms and held on. “You are my bookkeeper,” Mal snarled into her face, “You’re my chemist, my assistant, my best friend, my right hand and anything else I wish you to be.”

Evie raked her nails down Mal's arms. Mal wrestled her off the couch and they both slammed into the hard floor with Mal pining her down, subduing her fit of rage without really trying. Mal was better in a fight than the blue haired vixen had been raised to be. Evie was gnashing her teeth and trying to bite down on whatever she could reach when big leather boots were suddenly right by her head.

“Girl fight,” Jay gave a Cheshire Cat grin, “Girl fight with royalty. Girl fight with royalty in underwear.”

Mal gave Evie a last shove before getting up and giving him a look. “Get her cleaned up and moving. I don’t care what it takes. Show her a mirror, that should get her off her ass.”

She stepped over Evie’s body and went to the fridge. She ignored the others and had breakfast: red cordial, half a can of refried beans and a spotted banana. Evie sat back on the couch with Jay next to her, arm awkwardly around her shoulders as they talked low. He was probably trying to coax her into action before he had no choice but to throw her in the bathtub and pour buckets of water on her.

“Carlos here?” Mal asked.

“In the hall,” Jay said.

Mal went downstairs and found him crouching in the hallway leading to the entrance. He studied the tiles newly laid into the floor. No tile was the same as another and some were just broken pieces of one. It appeared to be very shoddy work even by Isle standards.

“How’s it going?”

Carlos jumped, nearly losing his balance and falling forward. “Geez, Mal, you could’ve fried me.”

Mal crouched next to him. “Seriously?”

“Deadly serious,” he waved the remote in his hand, “We’re hooked up and it’s live.”

“You’re sure this time?”

Carlos bobbed his head, pleased with himself. “If anyone manages to get past the gate, the door and the trip wire, they still have no choice but to come this way. They step on the tiles and zap! Alarms go off and two awesome seconds of electric current run through their bodies before it cuts out and they drop.”

“Why stun? Why not kill?” she asked to see what he would say.

“Well I wouldn’t want to accidentally kill my queen because she forgot to step only on the spaces between the tiles. Imagine the fuss.”

Mal laughed and ran her fingers through his white hair with affection. “Good job.”

The blush rising in his cheeks made his freckles stand out more. He ducked his head, always taken aback by praise. He also seemed to notice that she was only in a shirt and panties. Mal looked on amused as he busied himself by putting his gear back into his toolbox.

“Besides,” he mumbled, “I wouldn’t want to kill your potential allies, even if they are coming to steal from you or murder you in your bed.”

Her smile slipped from her face. She stood up. “You got something to say Carlos?”

He stood up as well, hugging his toolbox to his chest. He couldn’t look directly at her. His finger tapped the metal box in a nervous twitch. “I just don’t get why you’re being so…friendly with our enemies lately. Jay and Evie don’t either. It’s dangerous.”

“They are not our enemies,” Mal stated, “and none of you get it because I haven’t told you the plan yet.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Get Evie off the fucking couch!” she yelled, “It’s Phase One. Once that’s done we can move onto Phase Two.”

Mal turned on her heel and marched back to her bedroom. She shut the door, not wanting to hear the voices of her friends. They were the only ones she trusted, the people closest to her, and that meant they had the privilege of getting on her nerves.  

She ransacked her closet, flinging out articles of clothing. It was a particular outfit she was after. She put it on with care: a fisherman’s beanie she stuffed every strand of purple hair into, a gray hoodie under a beaten leather jacket, too big jeans and sneakers held together with yellow tape.

As Mal sat at her dressing table and picked up a jar that contained soot instead of foundation, she thought on her recurring dream. It was a pleasant dream right until the end, when each time she realized she didn’t belong to the seductive world she’d entered. That the sweet boy holding her hand wasn’t hers.

She rubbed soot on her cheeks, down her neck and in the rims of her ears.

Over time she had realized the boy’s resemblance to the then Prince of Auradon. And the meaning of the dream had become clear. Freedom was alive in the dream. Pleasure was there for the taking. Her deepest desires were made real for only a moment. And at the break of day Mal felt taunted, cheated, and more motivated than ever to achieve her goal: escaping the Isle of the Lost and taking what she wanted from Auradon. Even if that meant taking all of Auradon.

When she checked herself out in the mirror she was satisfied with her appearance. She looked like one of the lowest of the Isle folk, a victim rather than a player, scraping the bottom of the barrel to survive. Evie was fond of saying that the clothes made the girl. She was right. No one would recognize their queen in these rags.

In the living room, a snarling Evie was lying on the floor again. This time it was Carlos and Jay on top of her.

“Hold her down!” Jay snapped.

“I’m trying!” Carlos whined.

While Carlos grimaced at the nails dragging down his skin Jay held Evie’s jeans and tried to put her legs into them without being kicked in the face. Mal raised an eyebrow. Unusual sight, teenage boys attempting to force a girl to wear her pants. She didn’t say goodbye. 

Feeble sunlight struggled to pierce through the clouds and make an impact on the day. On the streets, vendors and craftsmen called for the buying of their miserable wares, laundry was washed in tin tubs and hanged to dry by tired women, and people came out to eat and drink together on the tables and chairs crammed between the decrepit buildings. This was as happy as the people ever got. The mornings were the safest and most peaceful time, when some sanity could be felt before it was completely lost by nightfall.

Hands in pockets, Mal hunched her shoulders as she slunk down the street as if expecting to be struck. She had her hoodie up and kept her eyes on her feet, weaving around people like she loathed human touch. It was a risk, of course, to potentially paint a target on her back. But there was the tell-tale outline of a knife in her pocket, and if it came down to it they’d find it held by a deft hand. Apart from half-hearted catcalls and hoots, she arrived at a particular door in a narrow alleyway without incident.

She made sure no one was spying on her before knocking.

“Come on,” Mal muttered, “You’re home. You’re always home.”

Eventually the door opened. Shocking blue eyes in the face of a middle aged man looked at her oddly, in a kind of distracted surprise.

“Ah,” he said.

Mal gave a little wave. “Hi Dad.”

Chapter Text

Jay was alone in Mal's living room when Evie, sultry and dangerous as a Bengal tiger, leaned against the doorway. He knew this would require a gentle touch. Lucky he had notoriously light fingers. But he was only human – and male at that – so he couldn’t help giving her a once over.

Her ocean-wave hair tumbled free down her shoulders. A mesh top covered her skin to the wrist but showed her black bra and toned stomach through the transparent material. She wore her poison heart necklace, as always, but a scarlet gem also winked in a belly button ring. A pencil skirt made of cobalt blue leather hugged the perfect curves of her hips and thighs. She was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. She could’ve sauntered up to any straight man, dagger in hand, and slipped the blade into his chest while he gawked at her.

Evie was looking at him from under her eyelashes, amused. Jay had been staring too long. He mentally slapped himself.

“I think going home and freshening up was just what I needed,” she smiled with painted lips, “I feel so much better now.”

She turned the full power of her melting chocolate eyes onto him. He shifted uncomfortably, unable to remember how he usually stood. What did he normally do with his arms? Did they really just hang? He tore his gaze from her and tried to find something interesting to look at.

“Uh, Evie…”

“Jay,” she purred, coming closer.

“I have a report to make,” he said, striding past her, “We should get to work – “

She took a fistful of his jacket and dragged him over to a chair that she shoved him into. Before he could blink she was straddling him.

“You know I don’t like to talk,” she said, “in moments like these.”

He kept his hands off her. Her mischievous grin only widened.

Jay chuckled nervously. “Ah. Evie. It sucks but…I’m just not in the mood.”

“You’re always in the mood. It’s what I like most about you.”

She leaned over and bit his earlobe. His fingernails dug into the armrests. The curve of her long neck was an inch away from his lips. Evie had a sweet scent, a yummy fragrance that followed her wherever she went. It clouded the mind. Jay was almost holding his breath so he wouldn’t get drunk on it.

Her hands wandered down his chest and, realizing where they were heading, Jay grabbed them. “Evie, we can’t.”

“Of course we can,” she laughed and tried to kiss him.

Jay held her back. “No, seriously. Stop.”

“Maleficent!” Evie cursed, “Why?”

“Well,” he smiled weakly, “Funny you should say that…but we’re not allowed to…you know…anymore.”

She stilled. The room temperature dropped to icy depths. “Not allowed? Who says so?”

Jay’s silence was answer enough. Laughing softly, Evie slid off his lap.

“That bitch,” she breathed, “that arrogant, selfish, manipulative…”

Jay held up his hands. “Agreed. Totally. But – “

“And you,” she spat, “You’re just whipped aren’t you? Tripping over yourself to do whatever she wants. Just like everybody else.”

Jay stood up, frowning. “First of all, I don’t let anyone force me into anything. Not since Dad left. Second, she’s the queen. And C, she’s got her reasons for butting in.”

Evie scoffed. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, waiting.

Jay cleared his throat but nothing came out. Hades, he was sweating. The thief with nerves of steel and a quicksilver tongue was sweating. Why couldn’t Mal have done this? Oh that’s right, to quote her: “You’re the one screwing her and fucking us all up.”

“Well,” he said eventually, grimacing, “you…Evie you do this each time you’re feeling low. You come to me. And you feel better for about ten seconds before you completely lose it, for weeks. Because I’m not the prince you were supposed to have. Because none of this is what you really want.”

Evie stared at him. He was relieved to see no tears. In fact, he couldn’t tell what she was feeling at all.

“And then you pull yourself together,” he continued, “Until the next time. It’s not good for you. So Mal told me to break the cycle.”

Evie looked down, very quiet.

“Er. So, yeah,” Jay shrugged, “I guess what I’m saying is…no means no.”

Whatever was running through Evie’s head, she snapped out of it and looked at him. “You said you had a report?”

Eager to put this touchy feely stuff behind him, Jay hurried over to the books and papers lying on the table. “We finally got Zevon on board. Your hunch was right. He was making potions and the shit wasn’t magic, no matter what he’d tricked himself into thinking. When we blocked him from being able to restock his ingredients he was forced into withdrawal. He cracked like the nut he is.”

Evie shook her head and sat down to log the information. Zevon, that blustering, egotistical idiot had mellowed after Yzma left – suspiciously so. Now they knew why.

“To keep him in line all we have to do is threaten to withhold his fix.”

“Mal will be happy,” Evie grumbled, “At least someone is.”

Jay watched her open a heavy book and flick to an empty page. At least two thirds of the pages were filled with writing. On the book's cover a green "V" was engraved over a purple "W". It stood for: “Vulnerabilities and Weaknesses”.

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Mal sat at the tiny table and watched her father stumble around and try and make her a cup of coffee. To be fair, it was difficult to find what you needed in a kitchen/dining room/bathroom. If her toothbrush holder was a toaster and her toilet paper was kept in the fridge, Mal supposed she’d be lost in her own home too. It was a cramped home but it suited the man it belonged to.

Mal didn’t know her father’s name. He had many. Ace Gannon. Godric Maddox. For six months he even passed as a sheikh called Malik al Sarraf in Agrabah despite being blonde, blue eyed and so white he looked drained of blood.

Her father was tall, skinny and had almost angelic features. He seemed like a man who’d offer to help an old lady cross the street. No one could have convinced her that this man was her father. No one but Maleficent herself, who had let slip enough clues over the years for Mal to have pieced together where she could find him.

Her father tripped over a cereal box, making grain vomit out, before finally lying a mug on the table.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said.

“It’s a bit cleaner than last time,” she offered.

She looked down to see he’d given her a cold half-congealed coffee. A fresh steaming cup was still beside the kettle. He’d somehow mixed them up. He sat down across from her, gazing at her expectantly.

She pretended to take a sip. “It’s great, thanks.”

“So what brings you here Mal?”

“Do I need a reason to visit my dad?”

He looked blank. It was hard to tell if he bought it.

“So how’s your book going?” she asked smoothly.

He perked up a little. “I’m having trouble with the beginning. The origins of the Isle. None of us can know what those bastards were thinking exactly when they sent us here. But,” he said and retrieved his manuscript, a stack of papers bound together with big rubber bands, “In the first few years I spoke to my fellow exiles about it and I think I’ve made a decent go of it.”

Mal speed-read the first few pages. The first chapter was titled “After Happily Ever After”. It more or less said:

The history of the Isle began with defeat. The most ingenious, daring and cunning people in the world had been vanquished because of quirks such as love, friendship or dumb luck. Naturally, these firebrands and innovators - dubbed “villains” by the victors - couldn’t stomach such a twist of fate. It was only a matter of time before they took their revenge against the “heroes”. Even death couldn’t contain their fury. Spearheaded by Maleficient and her dark powers, hell was cracking under the pressure of so many untamed souls.

Sorcerers warned the King and Queen of this reckoning. The self-righteous anger of King Beast and Queen Belle was great, as well as the grudges held by the other heroes against the villains. And so the Isle of the Lost was created for villains both living and newly revived, as punishment – a polite word for vengeance – for thinking to twice cross the oh so adored heroes.

“Pretty cool,” Mal admired, “One day, maybe it will become a school textbook the world over.”

He glanced sideways at her. “Because of a Queen's decree, presumably.”

“Exactly,” she grinned.

“Is that your ultimate goal? World domination?”

“What else is there?”

“The simple life. Cons, frauds and spiteful schemes.”

Mal huffed. “No one will be able to live easy once they’re outside. Not when Mother is raging war. It’ll be eat or be eaten,” she looked into the dregs of her coffee, “I just have to escape before there’s nothing left of Auradon to rule.”

“The heroes won once before,” he pointed out, tapping his fingers on his manuscript, “They might have won again for all we know.”

Mal gestured at the ancient television in the corner, dusty from disuse like every TV set on the Isle. The one news channel they’d been allowed had been missing for years. Now there was just static.

“Within a week of the villains escape the whole island’s signal is severed,” she said, “There’s only one reason the royals would do that. They don’t want us to see them getting their asses kicked. Plus the supply ships have been bringing even worse stuff than normal, and less of it. The war is draining their resources.”

He steepled his fingers thoughtfully. She could see the cogs in his head turning. It made a shocking difference to his appearance. For the first time Mal could spy a resemblance to her own features.  

Mal took a deep breath. “Dad. When me and my crew get out of here…I need you to stay behind.”

“What?” He startled.

“I can’t bring you with me. You must know that,” she shifted uncomfortably, “Mother won’t have her past weakness walking around for all her enemies to see. She’ll track you down and kill you.”

He stared at her. “How…considerate of you. Thank you, but I’ll take my chances.”

“This isn’t a request.”

“Then don’t insult me. What’s the real reason?”

Mal clenched her jaw and stood up. “My enemies could use you against me. Auradon could use you. I can’t allow that.”

“No one on the Isle knows I’m your father. Why would anyone in Auradon find out?”

“It’s enemy territory Dad. I need to minimise all possible threats.”

Her father shoved his chair back and stepped away from the table, wiping his mouth as if he tasted something foul. When he met her gaze his eyes were painfully, piercingly, clear. “Mal, you were born here. Everything you’ve learned is from the Isle. It’s forged your mind into a blade. But it has crushed mine. Look at me!” he flung his arms out, “I used to part kings from their crowns, lead geniuses down the garden path and deceive the best magicians in the world! No scheme was too elaborate, no lie too bold. And now…I’m writing a book, a book, to try and keep the dim embers in my brain alight. Don’t punish me for being your sire.”

“It’s not my fault you’re trapped here!” Mal snapped, crossing her arms, “Or that you were fool enough to sleep with my mother!”

He glared at her. “Living in this place is like swimming upstream in molasses. Getting Maleficient into bed was the only real challenge in all these years.”

“And the risk to your life?”

“The danger only made it more appealing.”

Already her father’s eyes were beginning to dull. He was retreating into himself, knowing this was a fight he couldn’t win. Looking at this fumbling man who’s brain had been fried by sheer boredom, Mal felt a swell of pity. And perhaps something close to guilt.

Mal couldn’t deny the brilliance of her father’s mind - it had won even her mother’s admiration. But like many of the villains, criminals and never-do-wells who’d been exiled, her dad had never been able to adapt and thrive as a prisoner. She was leaving him to a fate only marginally better than death.

“It won’t be forever,” she muttered, “As soon as my plans are seen through, I’ll get you out.”

She almost added: “I promise”. But a promise from her wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

He showed her his back and made a show of tidying up, moving junk from one pile to another. A thick fog of resentment and distress hung over him. Mal’s lips thinned. She left the apartment without a word.

Remembering that she was in disguise, she checked that the beanie covered her hair properly and shuffled through the streets. It was childish, but she didn’t want a low profile right now. She wanted to howl with rage and make everyone flee at the sight of her. How dare her father speak to her that way! Couldn’t he see that it was best he stay here?

Deep down, where other delicate thoughts and feelings lay unacknowledged, Mal was hurt that her father didn’t seem to realize or care that the only reason Auradon, or Maleficent for that matter, could use him as a weapon was because Mal cared about him.

When her mother had left Mal hadn't been able to resist making contact with her father. It had been done in a fit of pique, a way to prove she didn’t give a damn about Maleficent anymore by reaching out to the man Mal had disowned and cursed to please her. But the secret meetings between father and daughter had become something she looked forward to.

Mal came across a camp of crude shacks. She stopped beside rusty metal sheeting, a part of a hovel belonging to a goblin if the sour smell was any indication. Before her feet was a puddle of black oil, spilled and forgotten. A thin film of wild color swirled on the surface, a strange streak of beauty in a hideous place. It was one of the closest things to a real rainbow that could be seen on the Isle. She frowned at it.

Her dad listened to her. He respected her. And there were little proofs of affection and pride that Mal had never before received in a parent. It was addictive; it gave her a high. As if she had sampled one of the “magic” mushrooms growing in certain Isle folk’s basements. It kept her going back to a man she knew was a liability. And so it remained Mal’s dirty secret, an error in judgement that belonged in the Book of Vulnerabilities and Weaknesses.

She hadn’t even told her friends yet.

“Hey, hey you!”

Mal turned and peered down at a small green face. Squinting back, the goblin exposed his yellow needle-sharp teeth. “What you doing lurking around my patch? Scram! Or I’ll take a bite out of you.”

Unholy light lit up Mal’s eyes.

The goblin shrieked and threw himself onto the ground. “Forgive me mistress! Spare your wretched slave!”

“I trust you’d have kept your forked tongue in your mouth if you had recognized me,” Mal said.

The goblin’s hide shivered in agreement.

“Keep this encounter to yourself and your head won’t become my new doorknocker.”

The goblin was still burying his face in the dirt when she walked away. She was glad to see the level of control she had over that race of monsters. She had adopted the goblins as her own when they’d been cast off by Maleficent.

Another betrayal that would prove a mistake for the Mistress of Darkness. 

Chapter Text

Evie swept back the plastic sheets and stepped into the best and only hair saloon on the Isle, Curl Up and Dye. As ever, the inside was…interesting. Broken mirrors were pasted along the walls, forcing you to be happy with the makeover you were given because you had no way of properly critiquing it. The Tremaine family’s ideas on style were apparent in the framed pictures of painfully outdated fashion and hairstyles; Evie always averted her eyes from them, it was good for her sanity. A chemical lab bubbled in the corner, spouting out dyes and polishes for the business into glass jars. The lab had the unfortunate habit of blowing up; explaining why the saloon looked like it had been visited by a projectile vomiting rainbow.

Dizzy was at the table she used to design and make her creations, but for once her hands weren’t busy at work. She was slumped in a chair and didn’t look at Evie. She was staring at the huge oil painting of the long dead Lucifer, the Tremaine’s old black cat, taking pride of place on the wall.

“How is she?” Evie asked quietly.

Dizzy pushed up her glasses and made a sound of exasperation. “Silly hag won’t admit it. She says she’ll be giving me such a long list of chores tomorrow it will make my hair stand on end. But she didn’t yell at me when she said it. That’s how I know.”

Evie went and put a hand on Dizzy’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dizzy baby.”

“Hey, it was bound to happen,” she replied, shrugging, “and she would have left me the same as Mother, Auntie and my sisters if she could have.”

“I’m sorry,” Evie said again, “but I need to speak to her. It’s important.”

Dizzy waved a hand in the direction of the stairs. Evie squeezed her shoulder before she left her.

Evie squinted into Lady Tremaine’s bedroom. Moth eaten velvet drapes covered the windows and the only light came from a single lamp on the bedside table. Everything was covered in dust and a sickly note mixed with the heavy perfume in the air.

“The Evil Queen’s whelp,” a rasping voice said, “How dare you come in here?”

Calm, Evie dragged a chair over to the stately canopy bed. She drew back the bed curtains before sitting down.

No woman had been more dignified in old age than Lady Tremaine. But now the Lady’s sallow skin was sinking into her skull, her panicked dashes of makeup only making it more horribly obvious. Underneath the blankets Evie guessed her body was as thin and feeble as a child’s. She obviously couldn’t move or she would’ve sat up to tell Evie off. Despite all this, Lady Tremaine’s head was turned on the pillow to glare at Evie with surprising fire.

“Evening, madam,” Evie said.

“Get out.”

“Not until I speak with you.”

A short but terrible laugh cracked through the room. “Did my favorite ex-pupil send you?”

“Yes. Mal’s hoping you could give her one last lesson. So she sent me to take notes for her.”

Evie took out a pen and notebook from the satchel she brought with her and lay them in her lap. Her brown eyes gazed steadily at Lady Tremaine.

“Tell that girl she’s no longer a student at Dragon Hall and I’m no longer predisposed to give lessons. And what more could I teach anyhow?”

“You could tell us what you have learned over the years,” Evie replied, “about your fellow villains.”

Lady Tremaine pursed her dry, white lips. “Whatever could she mean by that?”

“You’re not one to share, madam,” Evie sighed. “I understand. But we thought, in your present condition…”

“Condition? What condition? I’m perfectly fine, now get out!”

The lady clutched her throat as fear made her tremble like a leaf. Evie swallowed hard. As much as she disliked her, it was difficult to witness such a formidable woman breaking apart.

Evie took a breath. “Did you know that your granddaughter Dizzy is our most valuable informant? Can you guess why that is?”

The old woman blinked at her.

“Her position as a hairdresser gives her access to all sorts of information. Anyone who’s anyone passes through here. And it’s really amazing how people let their guard down around her. People treat hairdressers like a priest, that what they say will be confidential. Or maybe they think she’s just ditzy Dizzy, not worth a second glance.”

Evie almost added "Like you did all her life", but it wouldn’t have helped Dizzy or what she had to do now.

“In the end,” Evie continued, “no one thought much of you either. Just an old woman who’d only slow them down as they made their escape.”

Lady Tremaine gritted her teeth, seething. Then just as quickly the fight drained out of her. “It doesn’t matter. I have no doubt Mal will see to it that this land, all the lands, belong to the young and the wild.”

“You can make your mark,” Evie insisted, “even now. They’ll never forget you again if you tell us what you know.”

For a while, Lady Tremaine said nothing and stared up at the ceiling, seeming to become more gray and insubstantial as time stretched by. Then the pale lines of her lips opened and she began to speak, strength filling her voice again.

Evie struggled to keep up as she wrote down all she was told: the little known stories about the villains, the secrets, cover ups and embarrassments only a woman as insidiously patient and scheming as the wicked stepmother could’ve collected over the many years. Even Evie blushed or gulped at the things she was told. 

Eventually the old woman’s tales drifted into slow mumbling. Then her eyes fluttered shut and her face became smooth and at ease. Lady Tremaine failed to draw another breath and was still.

Lulled to her final sleep by one last spiteful act.

Evie put the new pages for the V&W Book into her satchel and stood up, stretching her stiff legs. She looked upon Lady Tremaine’s body and a strange feeling came over her. At first she saw her mother lying there, pale and shriveling like the wicked stepmother, and then it was Evie herself: face waxy and lifeless, beauty curdled into bitterness with nothing but grudges to comfort her in her dying moments.

For an instant, Evie had some understanding of the true nature of villainy. She stumbled out of the room, practically throwing herself out the doorway and crashing into the wall.

The oppressive atmosphere vanished. The air was never so crisp and clean and Evie took a deep breath of it. She could hear a racket from the street, an ogre was throwing a tantrum. The world returned to something recognizable. She shook off her weird thoughts and put it down to seeing a woman she’d known all her life die before her eyes.

Dizzy was sitting and waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She took one look at Evie before breaking into tears. Evie sat by her side and wrapped her arms around her.

“Oh Dizzy.”

“She was,” the young girl choked out between sobs, “the meanest, bossiest, most unfashionable Granny ever. I hated her. She hated me.”

Her tears dripped onto the lenses of her glasses as she hung her head.

Evie gently took her glasses off and dried them. “It’s okay. You can be upset.”

“I have no family left now.”

Evie took Dizzy’s chin and turned her head to look into her eyes. “You have me. Always.”

Brushing back her multi-colored hair, Evie slid the glasses back onto Dizzy’s nose, making Dizzy’s eyes look huge and vulnerable as a fawn’s. Dizzy snuggled deeper into her side and Evie held her for even longer than she had sat with Lady Tremaine.

It was dark when Evie made it to Mal’s place. Evie found Mal where she often was, on the balcony outside her bedroom gazing at the sparkling lights of distant Auradon, brooding over her plans. Evie cleared her throat and Mal tore her eyes away with an effort.

“Got what we needed,” Evie said shortly.

“Well done.”

They looked at each other.

“Why did you send me instead of Jay?” Evie asked, “He’s the one who usually collects the data.”

Mal shrugged. “I knew you’d want to see Dizzy.”

“So nice of you to allow me to see her,” she gave a sharp smile, “Who else am I permitted to see?”

“You can see anyone you like. You just can’t screw one of my lieutenants and make a mess of things.”

Evie marched up to Mal and poked her in the chest. “You’re not in charge of my life!”

“Someone has to be!” Mal snapped, smacking her finger away, “When you don't take a bath or change your clothes or get up from the couch, someone has to put you back on track!”

Evie’s gorgeous face scrunched up into a scowl that would make an ogre flinch. “Big nosed fairy!”

“Spoiled little princess!”

“Wannabe queen!”

“Mama’s girl!”

“Freak!”

“Fat!”

Evie gasped in horror. She touched her stomach and looked down. Her eyes grew damp. “Am I really?”

Mal’s expression lost its coldness. She sighed a little. “Come on E, don’t do that…”

“It’s true I haven’t been getting much exercise lately…”

“I was just angry! I take it back!”

Evie didn’t listen and was busy patting herself down, trying to find flab.

Mal rolled her eyes and slung her arm around Evie’s shoulders so they were hip to hip. “If you’re getting fat then I’m turning into the tooth fairy.”

Evie couldn’t help giggling.

They turned to watch the light speckled horizon, so tiny a glimpse into the outside world, a mere sliver. It looked as alien as it did enticing.

“The young and the wild,” Evie murmured.

In the darkness she felt Mal nod beside her, seeming to understand what she meant.

After a while, Mal spoke. “I need you here Evie. Really here, with me. Okay?”

“First Dizzy, now you. Do I need to write it out in blood? I’m not going anywhere without you guys.”

Evie jumped when she felt warm lips on the side of her neck. She looked at Mal. Seeing a dark fairy’s eyes, usually a hard emerald, go a soft meadow green was quite shocking. It never failed to melt Evie. She turned to face Mal fully before pressing her mouth against hers.  

Mal and Evie had kissed many times. Mal had wanted her first kisses to be with someone she trusted and she’d needed the practice for her past scheme to seduce Harry. And Evie was an excellent tutor.

The kiss was slow and effortless. Completely different to the desperate, dirty make out sessions she’d had with Jay, among others. That special zing of connection to Mal was as soothing as a hot chocolate on a sunless gray morning. A guilty pleasure no one else needed to know about.

When they parted Mal smiled and gestured to the window that led inside. “Come on. I’ll help you with organising the new pages.”

“The great queen will condescend to help me?” Evie teased.

“A queen keeps each and every one of her subjects in mind,” Mal smirked, “to the very end.”

                                                                    3333333333333333333333

There was a department in Auradon who’s entire purpose was to make certain that the Isle folk didn’t starve and were provided with bare necessities. For the most part, the only evidence this department existed were the boats that came every month to dump scraps onto the shore. But occasionally, the outsiders were forced to put their shiny boots onto the black sand and speak to the prisoners.

The workmen bunched together on the beach and stared uneasily at the ragged band of men and women. The expressions on the Isle folk were mostly bored and dim-witted, and not worthy of the hands hovering over tasers at the workmen's belts.

“Well?” an Auradon native spoke up, “Who is it?”

The Isle folk moved aside to show the long rectangular box on the ground. “The wicked stepmother.”

It was part of their job to open the coffin and check that the person there was really deceased, and no little goblins were trying to smuggle themselves, but this time there was a morbid curiosity about the end of this legendary woman. Wary of tricks, they lifted the lid.

“Yep,” one workman said, “That’s one dead villainess.”

Looking disappointed, as if they’d expected the old woman to have horns, they replaced the lid and heaved the coffin onto their shoulders. The coffin was carried up the boat ramp without further ceremony and Excalibur VI crossbows were pointed at the Isle folk until the boat launched and sailed through the barrier.

No one on the Isle knew what Auradon did with the bodies. There were plenty of rumors. Maybe they buried them at sea. Or dropped them in an acid pit. Or the brains were dissected for scientific study on the source of evil.

Mal had a better inkling than most.

That’s why hidden under the frilly cuffs of Lady Tremaine’s nightdress, clasped in her dead hands, was an envelope with the words: For King Ben.

Chapter Text

It was midday, when the sun tried its hardest to shine through the smug gray clouds above the Isle. The marketplace was full. The vendors were only slightly less belligerent than the customers as they growled over the goods in the rickety stalls sprawling a whole street. All sorts of useful things were for sale. There were dried scorpions, bottles of fizz, fake gems, dictionaries with everything but the ‘bad words’ crossed out, make-your-own voodoo doll kits, electric eels swimming in tubs, foul-smelling fungi, mustache wax and a flood of potions, oils and ointments that weren’t magical but certainly had nefarious purposes.

Almost anything a never-do-well needed and could be scrounged up on the Isle was found at the market. Old coins, so rusted or worn that they had no faces, changed hands between customer and vendor with ungrateful grunts. Posturing aside, the day was relaxed as it could be; their guard was down when the first schiing of a sword leaving its scabbard rose above the noise and made everyone’s head turn.

Pirates. Like greedy rats they seemed to appear out of every crack and hole until they were swarming the marketplace. They whooped and hollered, eyes fever-bright, as they waved their swords and sent people screaming and tearing out of their path. Chaos quickly overtook the market. Pirates gleefully kicked over barrels and cut down posts holding up canvases. People tumbled over and scrabbled through the mess and as they lay defenceless cold sharp steel was put under their chins until they gave up their coin. Some vendors tried to pack up their wares before running but the pirates zeroed in on them and bared their teeth in feral grins. Most abandoned their stalls in lieu of being skewered. Others only managed to save a handful of their belongings when they escaped.

Through all this confusion and anarchy, a low rhythmic chant came from the pirates and wrapped around the marketplace: “Uma, Uma, Uma, Uma, Uma…”

The Pirate Queen, daughter of the sea witch Ursula and captain of every pirate on the Isle, strode down the middle of the street and scrutinised the raid with cool eyes.

“Queen Mal will hear of this!”

A goblin crouched under a stall, his bulbous eyes glaring at her with impotent fury even as he cowered. She knew that this must be his stall. Goblins mostly made their money through coffee; and cans of expired instant coffee were stacked on the wooden bench.

Uma smiled at the goblin. “I wish I could see her face when she does.”

With a lightning fast kick she broke the stall and the cans fell in an avalanche on the squealing goblin. She sniffed and continued walking. Her crew were in their element. As she watched, they rifled through the best goods and proceeded to stuff their pockets and sacks full. When she passed them the pirates raised their swords to her or put their hats to their hearts. They had shit-eating grins on their faces like they had never raided the marketplace before.

But they had. Many, many times. It was the richest source for looting on the Isle and despite Mal’s best efforts she just couldn’t keep Uma out. That was the only thing that brought Uma any pleasure. Not pillaging the same place for the twentieth time for items Uma couldn’t care less about, but sticking it to Mal.

And even that, she had to admit to herself, was getting old.

“Uma. Uma! Look!”

She stopped and turned her head. Gil stood next to a jewelry stand and dangled a necklace for her to see. A small turquoise crystal was on a bronze chain and Gil must’ve thought it was something special.

“Do you like it Uma?” he asked hopefully, “I think it’d look real pretty on you.”

Because that’s what Uma aimed for in life. To look pretty. She opened her mouth to give a scathing reply.

Out of the corner of her eye there was a flicker of red. Harry Hook, in his long and dirty scarlet coat, was strutting in her direction. His pockets were near bursting and a string of raw sausages was draped on his shoulders and around his neck like a feather boa. He eyed all the stalls as if he was undressing a woman with his eyes, looking for his next steal. He hadn’t seen Uma yet.

Uma closed her mouth with a click. Gil was still waiting for her response with a goofy grin on his face.

“Thanks Gil,” she smiled as she walked to him, “How thoughtful.”

He bathed happily in her words and turned the crystal over in his hand. “It’s like the color of the sea, or how I hear how the water is supposed to look beyond the Isle – “

She pounced on him, smashing her lips to his. Gil yelped but didn’t fight it. Clutching his ridiculously soft hair as she kissed him, she corralled him backward so that they were in between the stalls and just out of sight.

She found that it was increasingly difficult to remember her reasons for doing this. Her body sighed and relaxed as Uma dragged her mouth over his and he nudged and tugged and then touched his tongue to hers in response, more gentle than she. You could lay many sins at Gil’s feet but being a bad kisser wasn’t one of them. His hands angled her jaw so the kiss could deepen and Lucifer, who cared why she was doing this.

“Bloody hell. What are you doing?”

Gil jumped back from Uma as if struck, face red. Uma turned on her heel smoothly and arched an eyebrow at Harry.

“Do you mind?” she asked coolly, “I’m busy right now.”

Harry’s expression became even blacker. “Oh no, please, don’t let me keep you. If I’d known we were here to pillage the inside of Gil’s mouth, I’d have been the first to step forward.”

He turned his kohl lined eyes on Gil and the searing look was as lascivious as it was threatening. Gil blushed and stammered.

“Captain,” he bowed to Uma.

He tried to hurry past the two but Harry struck out and snagged Gil’s belt with his hook. Gil froze, eyes wide. Harry slowly stepped until they stood uncomfortably close, his stare intense. He took his hook back and unwrapped the string of sausages from his own shoulders and draped them over Gil with tender care.

Harry patted his arm. “Here yer are, mate. A snack for the road. But take care,” he grinned wide, “to keep your sausage to yourself.”

Uma snorted quietly. Gil looked anywhere but Harry as he mumbled his thanks before running away. Without a glance at Harry, Uma strolled past him.

She headed for her ship. She left the marketplace and the ruckus the pirates were still making. The imprint of Gil’s kiss faded and her thoughts curdled. Tonight, her crew would gloat and celebrate the day’s raid. She would have to sit on her throne, be presented with one third of the haul as tribute and pretend to give a damn about the crap they gave her.

She was nearing the docks when her instincts went tight with alarm. Her sword practically jumped out of her scabbard and into her hand as she whirled around and met the sword of her assailant in a crash of blades.

“You!” Uma gasped, “What are you playing at?”

Harry leaned more heavily into where his sword met Uma’s. His face was too close and his smile too blithe for the circumstances. “I’m bored. Play with me.”

“I don’t have time to give you lessons,” she snapped.

“Righty O. Then put away yer sword.”

Uma’s eyes narrowed. She wouldn’t disarm herself when someone else had a sword in hand. Not for anyone. And Harry knew it.

“I could have you walk the plank for mutiny,” Uma said.

“Them sounds like fighting words.”

“You want a fight?”

“Do I have to say pretty please?”

Uma headbutted him. Both their hats got in the way and fell into a puddle but Harry stumbled back with a gratifyingly painful groan. Wasting no time, she lunged for his side but Harry batted her sword away even as he shook to clear his head. Her blade flashed again and she sliced a bloody ribbon on his forearm.

“First blood to me,” she smirked.

He parried her next move while he backed up and she pursued him. “Haven’t you heard? Only ‘most blood’ matters.”

She cut empty air as he dodged and sidestepped her blows as gracefully as a dancer, refusing to go on the offensive. His posture was mockingly casual. She thrust and when he blocked her he pretended to pick his teeth with his hook, bored. Her teeth gritted. Harry was a slippery bastard and used mind games to best advantage. He would tire and frustrate her to give himself an opening and then he’d strike.

“Is this what people call a fit of jealousy?” Uma crooned.

The corner of his eye twitched.

Their swords a dizzying whirl, she tried to herd him against a wall but he slipped out of the trap. “Are you this desperate for my attention?”

His retreat slowed and he blocked her sword with more force. A swordsman’s battle plan was in the eyes and Harry’s were burning now.

Uma gripped her hilt tighter. “If you want to better yourself ask Gil for some pointers. Believe me, he knows what he’s doing.”

Harry charged with a roar and swung. She met the attack but the power behind the blow numbed her arm. Sweat beading on her forehead, she was forced to give ground as she fended him off. He growled. While their blades were touching he lashed out with his hooked hand. The move could either slice open an enemy's belly or seize a pirate queen's belt. But Harry’s eyes had given him away a split second before. Uma fell backward onto a crate and rolled over it to the other side, safe. Harry kicked the crate out of his path, his face terrible. Uma laughed.

Harry strode to her and twirled, his cloak a brilliant red flare, and swiped his sword high then low then high again. He raised his hook but she caught his wrist with her free hand. Swords grinding above their heads, they snarled into each other’s faces. Harry pressed harder and her feet began to slide across the soft dirt.

In two swift movements Uma pivoted on her left foot, giving him her back, and drove her left elbow into his side. He wheezed then yipped when she stomped on his foot. Stepping back and freeing his hooked hand, Harry aimed for her vulnerable heels with the flat of his blade and brought down his sword. At the same time Uma spun around and used the momentum to swing and bat Harry’s sword aside so powerfully that he lost his balance and toppled backward, an assortment of knick-knacks bursting out of his pockets when he hit the ground.

A wind-up toy came to life, a set of plastic teeth chattering near his ear. He grimaced at it. He tried to raise himself up but felt the point of a sword at his jugular. Uma peered down at him, chillingly calm.

Harry’s chuckle was a little nervous. “Uhhh…pretty please?”

“You’re dead. And there’s not a scratch on me.”

“That’s why you’re the captain.”

Uma’s mouth curved. “So true. Therefore after tonight’s celebration you can forget about sleep and scrub the deck from bow to stern until it shines.”

She kicked Harry’s sword out of reach. She sheathed her blade and retrieved her hat, shaking the dirty water from it.

“Did you know I’d see you with him?” he asked.

She just walked away.

The crew who’d been ordered to stay behind and guard the Lost Revenge were on edge, their hands on their pommels, and they frowned at the sight of their captain alone on the dock.

“Captain,” Bonny cried, “We heard the clang of steel on the wind. Is everything – “

Uma flicked her braids back and walked up the ship’s gangplank. “It was nothing. Forget it.”

She disappeared into the captain’s quarters, craving privacy – something that was hard to find in a nest of pirates.

Her rooms would’ve been more spacious had they not been crammed with her belongings. It was like her own mini marketplace. Books and clocks of all sizes, half-decent carvings, urns, sea glass, tuneless musical instruments, candle sticks, a tangle of jewelery she never touched and much more filled the shelves and were piled from floor to ceiling. She threw her hat aside and laid her palms on her writing desk. She bowed her head and breathed deep. The sight of her things had reignited her irritation. She would be gifted more of the same tonight. But that wasn’t her crew’s fault.

She lifted her head and looked at her reflection in a mirror. She scowled at herself. There was nothing for her here. The Isle was dried up – how long until she was washed out?

She blinked.

A necklace with a turquoise crystal was around her neck. She raised her hand and toyed with the tiny stone. At what point between running his tongue over hers and cupping her chin had Gil clasped the chain around her neck?

Oddly charmed, she decided to wear it. Just for tonight.

She moved unconsciously to finger the other necklace she wore. The round spiral seashell on a short chain had a gold, metallic sheen. It was cold as the blackest depths of the sea to touch. And sometimes it glowed faintly with magic, the only object besides Maleficent’s staff to ever show a spark of life in their prison. Its power was too potent to crush completely.

She covered the shell with her hand and pressed it to her chest. She stared hard into her own dark, dark eyes.

“I’ve outgrown the Isle,” she said, “Like I outgrew you.”

Ursula’s throaty laughter sounded in her head.

Uma punched the mirror in an explosion of glass and drops of blood. She didn’t notice the pleased flicker of light from the gold shell.

Chapter Text

From the head of the long table, King Ben rubbed the gold beast ring on his finger and looked at his advisors. Closest to him on the left was Fa Mulan. She was as composed as any well-bred lady, with her hands folded calmly on the table; this was at odds with her combat boots, armored pantsuit and the sword belted at her waist. At one time, Ben only knew Mrs Fa as Lonnie’s mother. Now she was an indispensable part of his Council.

Next to Fa Mulan was Princess Aquata and Princess Arista, the Sea Queen Attina’s sisters as well as Queen Ariel’s aunts. Ben had never known them to be anything but ill-tempered – he guessed most mermaids didn’t like their fins transformed into legs, even if they can’t get to a Council meeting without them.

Doc was beside the princesses, peering at his surroundings through his glasses and probably trying to recall why he was there. Only Doc had the luxury of a mug of hot apple cider to sip while they all waited.

“This is ridiculous,” Fairy Godmother muttered.

She sat on Ben’s immediate right, frowning at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. She crossed her arms and jiggled her magic wand irritably, causing sparks to drip out. The wand just so happened to be pointing at Ben and he eyed it uneasily.

“They’re only a few minutes late,” he said.

Fairy Godmother huffed. “Ten minutes late. If this was a party, they’d be first at the door. They’ve never been late to a party in their lives.”

She must have felt Ben’s curious look because she gave him a sheepish grin. “You must excuse me, Sire. I’ve known them so long, they’re like my sisters. I dare say I’m permitted to be a little short with them.”

“Dwarfism is a medical condition,” Doc came to life, staring suspiciously at Godmother, “and not to be laughed at with ‘short jokes’.”

The mermaid princesses snickered.

Fairy Godmother looked at Doc in dismay. “No, no, my dear Doc. You’re mistaken, you’ve misheard, that – that was not what I was – “

“Because I have dedicated years to educating the public about dwarfism and how dwarfs aren’t magical creatures, but littler humans who can suffer from serious complications due to their condition. And if I thought you were making wise quacks – uh, wizz whacks, wait, I mean – “

“Wisecracks?” Quasimodo offered shyly.

Doc smiled with relief at Quasi, who sat across from him. “Yes.”

“We were discussing an unrelated matter Doc,” Ben told him gently, “And said ‘short’, that’s all.”

Doc mumbled into his fluffy white beard and sipped his cider.

Ben shuffled the papers before him, checking for the dozenth time he had what he needed for this meeting. Against his will, his eyes wandered.

As much as Ben hated looking at the map on the wall, and knew it so well he could close his eyes and picture it perfectly, his gaze was always drawn to it. It was a solemn reminder of the stakes, but it hurt more than helped and Ben was tempted to order it ripped down.

On the United States of Auradon map, the northern regions beyond the Great Wall were completely covered in black dragon pins. The great cities there were in the total control of those heartless villains. Beneath the Wall, the black pins had grown like a cancer. Towering Heights fell soon after the island off its coast, Neverland, had been overrun. The latest conquest was the region of Camelot. The magic in that land was ancient and holy and Camelot’s people were renowned for their skill in battle. The fight against Maleficent’s legions had been ferocious. And futile.  

Now, with Camelot fallen, Maleficent was next door to the capital.

There were two reasons why Old Auradon had not yet been taken. One: the battle against Camelot had drained much of the enemy’s resources and energy. They were still recovering their full strength. And two: Camelot was not an ideal location to launch the last fatal strike. As one of the smallest regions in the USA, it was squeezed between the vast Summerlands to the east – full of the light magic most abhorrent to Maleficent – and Westerly, a mostly unpopulated region of feral woodlands. Camelot was a chokepoint; the land was too narrow for Maleficent’s entire force to use to invade.

There was a crack as the doors to the council chambers opened. Ben saw Fa Mulan put a hand to her sword, ready for anything.

But it was only long faced Lumiere, announcing grandly: “Sire, members of the Magicals Adamantly Against Maleficent have arrived.”

“Thank you Lumiere,” Ben nodded.

Three short, oldish-looking women in puffy dresses and pointed hats swept through the doors with the buzzing energy of children and began talking at once.

“So sorry we’re late, oh, you would simply not believe the ordeal we had.”

“It never would’ve happened if Flora had simply followed my instructions…”

“Sire, please forgive our delay. It was unavoidable, completely unavoidable.”

Ben waved a hand to show no hard feelings. Flora, Fauna and Merryweather bobbed a curtsey.  

“I imagine it’s quite the story,” Fairy Godmother said.

Flora, the fairy who dressed in pink, went and kissed Godmother on the head. “Don’t be cross, please. Or you’ll wear away your magic and begin to look as old as us!”

Godmother swatted her away, but she was smiling. The women known as the Three Good Fairies sat down next to a blushing Quasimodo after giving him hugs and kisses like adoring aunties.

The three had been followed in by another fairy. This one was tall and beautiful; Ben thought of her as the loveliest creature in Auradon. She had wavy blonde hair, crushingly blue eyes and a pink mouth that always smiled faintly. She wore a flowy sapphire gown that sparkled like a field of stars, and paired with the delicate wings fluttering at her back, the Blue Fairy was a sight to behold.

She dipped her head as gracefully as a swan. “My liege.”

To his embarrassment, Ben had to clear his throat before he answered. “Welcome.”

She folded herself into a chair next to her fellow fairies without another word to anyone.

Ben jumped when a stick thwacked his seat. “Hey boy! Got any food in this place? I can’t think with my belly as empty as the wallet in my pocket.”

Mama Odie, a tiny black woman and priestess of voodoo, stroked the giant snake draped around her neck.

“A lunch will be served after the meeting,” Ben said as he stood, “Please, let me help you to your seat Mama Odie.”

“Oooooh, a king and a gentleman,” she crooned, and addressed her snake, “Juju, give him a kiss for me!”

The snake rolled his eyes.

Ben pulled out a chair and when Mama Odie sat she poked around with her stick, investigating. “Oh! I’m at the head of the table! Juju has a perfect view of you all.” The blind woman cackled, swinging her legs and showing her bare feet.

Ben sat back down. “Where is Merlin?”

The Three Good Fairies exchanged glances. It was Fauna, the green one, who spoke: “Your Majesty, Merlin is unwell today…and won’t be joining us.”

Ben nodded gravely. It worried him how hard the Camelot situation had hit the old sorcerer.

He looked in turn at those gathered. “There are a few updates on the Camelot front, but they are not surprising. More deaths in border skirmishes…” for a moment, those deaths pressed down on him; his subjects, people he was supposed to protect, were gone forever… “But that can wait. I’ve called you here to discuss an important development that could change the war as we knew it.”

Faces lit up with intrigue. Fa Mulan sat up straighter if possible.

Ben passed out copies of a letter. They read:

To King Ben,

Knowing the villains as I do, I have no doubt you are losing a war you cannot possibly hope to win. This disturbs me and that may surprise you. But I share the same world as you and have no interest in seeing it in the hands of a madwoman. Many villain kids agree with me. Maleficent and her followers must be stopped, for all our sakes. I have a proposition for you. Meet me on the Isle of the Lost to discuss the terms of our alliance to end the war. If you doubt I would stand against my own mother, then you must know nothing of what we suffered at our parents’ hands on the Isle.

See you soon,

Mal

The council chambers erupted into shouts and protests.

“The sheer nerve of it!” the Blue Fairy exclaimed.

“It’s certainly strange…” Godmother said.

Quasi shook his head. “It’s a trap, it’s obviously a trap…”

“She must think we’re morons,” Princess Arista snorted.

“What? What is it?” Mama Odie demanded, “Juju can’t read you know.”

“It’s a message from Maleficent’s whelp,” Merryweather said, pouting, “Asking us to play the fool and release her from prison so she can join her mother.”

Doc squinted at his copy, confused. “That’s not what it says…”

“As good as, it does!” she snapped back.

“How did you come by this?” Fa Mulan asked Ben.

He addressed them all: “A week ago, the Wicked Stepmother’s remains were recovered from the Isle. The disposal team found this letter on the corpse and brought it to me.”

Flora frowned. “They should’ve notified us first. Disposal is one of MAAM’s responsibilities. We would never have bothered you with this.”

“It was addressed to me.”

“Well,” the Blue Fairy said, flipping back her hair, “It was good for a laugh at any rate. Shall we retire for luncheon?”

“Now you’re talkin’,” Mama Odie said, already halfway out of her chair.

“I believe…” Ben said, “This girl Mal might be sincere. I’m considering going to the Isle and speaking with her.”

From their horrified expressions, it was as if he had thrown them an evil potion and they’d fumbled and dropped it. They were watching it roll around the floor, waiting for the glass bottle to shatter and release disaster. Only Fa Mulan looked thoughtful.

Ben noticed all the fairies had turned pleading eyes onto Fairy Godmother. Counting on her to make me see sense, he realized.

She turned to him in her seat and fidgeted with her wand. “Your Majesty, as much as I applaud looking for the best in others…perhaps the daughter of the Mistress of All Evil is not a prime candidate.”

“I’m not going to refuse someone’s offer of help because of who their parents are,” he said firmly, “Especially not when more of my people die every day and most of the rest live in chains.”

“She doesn’t want to help!” Princess Arista sneered.

Her sister nodded. “You’d have to be blinder than the voodoo woman to not see what her scheme is.”

It was Quasimodo who looked the most bewildered out of all of them. His best eye scrutinized Ben. “With respect Sire, why are we even debating this? We have a lot of problems already. Why do you want to add this witch into the mix?”

Ben raised a hand and the room settled somewhat. Be strong, he told himself, and convince them that this is the right course.

“Consider this: how did Mal know about the war? The Isle of the Lost is meant to be kept completely in the dark about the rest of Auradon. But she not only knew, she's also certain that we are losing. Badly. And I hope you don’t suggest that she’s in league with Maleficent…after years behind a magical barrier, on the crummy island her mother left her on to be as free and evil as she pleased. I think it’s clear there’s no love lost there.”

Ben took a big breath. “I believe the children of villains could have valuable insight into how their parents think. What their next move could be. How they might be defeated. After all, who knows them better?”

“And that’s a good thing,” the Blue Fairy said mildly with an arch of her brow.

“We need every possible advantage,” Fa Mulan murmured. When everyone looked at her, she lifted her chin and met their gaze squarely, “If it means freeing my homeland, I won’t throw away any opportunity.”

“We don’t need those terrible children,” Flora spoke sharply. The Three and Blue Fairy nodded, their wands glowing brighter from the strength of their feelings. “Good will triumph over evil because it always does. As long as we keep faith, and you remain steadfast and true King Ben, then everything will turn out well.”

Ben rubbed his beast ring, trying to find the right words. The believer, the hopeful and purest part of him, wanted to embrace what Flora said. And fight how every past battle against evil was fought. Wait for the right enchanted sword. Call for your loyal animal friends. Break the spell. Kiss your true love.

Ben sighed. “I’m grateful for your trust in me, all of you. And if this was the first six months of the war, I’d agree with you Flora. But my heart is telling me that we’re running out of time and if we don’t do something now, Auradon will be finished.”

There was sober silence as everyone digested this. Ben wondered if any of these legendary people could really believe failure was possible – while he was haunted by that future every day, all the time.

“It seems you have already decided on your course,” Fairy Godmother said softly.

Ben stood. “I’m going to the Isle to listen to what that girl has to say. We will reconvene after lunch and I’ll listen to your warnings and opinions, and we’ll come up with a strategy for the meeting. You may not agree with my decision, but I expect your support in this.”

The others stood as well, though the mermaids wobbled a little.

“We are your loyal subjects, Sire,” the Blue Fairy said.

Ben left the council chambers first, no doubt leaving the members of MAAM and the council to argue over his plan. They might forget lunch altogether, but Ben needed to keep up his strength if he was to face them all again.

He grinned when he entered the royal kitchens. He couldn’t help it. In war or peace, the kitchens were a well organised hub of chaos. Pots banged, pans sizzled over stoves, fruit and vegetables were chopped in a flurry of knives, dough was slapped onto boards and kneaded, and everyone acted like things were seconds away from ruin. And then they’d have to answer to Cogsworth.

“Ben my dear!” Mrs Potts appeared, holding a tray of tea and sandwiches. “How are you?”

The kitchen staff finally realised their king was nearby. They dipped into hurried curtseys and bows before getting back to work and ignoring him completely.

“Hello Mrs Potts,” Ben laughed, “I just came to get something I could eat in my rooms.”

“Oh! Well I was just doing the same for the Queen Mother.”

Ben’s grin dropped. “She’s back?”

“Yes,” Mrs Potts sighed, “And looking frightful, poor thing.”

“Put some more sandwiches on here and I’ll take it to her,” he said and took the tray out of her hands, “And do we have any sugar cookies? She loves those.”

“I think so. But what about you?”

“We’ll share.”

He found his mother sitting in her favourite armchair near the sunny window, hand propping up her head as she slept. She wore simple jeans and a jacket, so unlike the formal dresses she used to wear, and her hair was limp and graying. She looked so fragile curled up like this.

He tiptoed and put the tray down on the coffee table carefully, but she woke.

“Ben,” Belle yawned.

He bent down to let her kiss him on the cheek. “I brought you a bite to eat.”

She managed a tired smile as he poured her a cup of tea and passed her a sandwich. He sat in the other armchair and didn’t speak until she drank and ate a bit.

“How were things at the center?”

“Oh. The same,” she said through chewing, “Busy. There are so many refugees…and yet too few.”

“Yeah.”

Ben watched the memory of it begin to drag his mother’s mood down and cursed himself for bringing it up. He passed her a sugar cookie. “Try these. They’re fresh from the oven.”

Belle bit into it with pleasure. Both the tea and cookies were a rare treat due to the widespread food rationing. Belle’s color improved as she ate more.

“I didn’t realize I was so hungry,” she chuckled, “Aren’t you having any?”

Ben shrugged. “I already ate.”

After three cups of tea and leaving nothing but crumbs on the tray, Belle leaned back in her chair and relaxed. They talked of small matters, putting aside the big one. Ben knew she suspected something was going on and that he was working on a plan, but he didn’t want to tell her anything. Not yet.

“That uniform looks so smart on you,” Belle beamed, “So much like your father when he was young.”

“Ha, yes,” Ben said, “At least I look the part of a king.”

“There’s much more to you than that. And everyone knows it.”

“I bet Maleficent disagrees.”

Belle leaned over and squeezed her son’s hand. “Oh Ben. This isn’t what I wanted for you. Your father worked so hard…you should’ve inherited a world free from villains. One that didn’t need magic to be beautiful. One full of opportunity. Things could’ve been very different…”

There were lines on his mother’s face; his father used to tease her, saying he loved them because he’s the one who put them there by making her laugh. Now those lines were caused by nothing but grief.

Ben put his hand over her own. “I promise you Mom. I’ll bring that world back.”

Chapter Text

“You’re insane,” Uma said flatly, “Or stupid. Both, probably. Have you been snorting pixie dust?”

Mal said nothing and glanced out the window at the ancient graveyard surrounding the building. Rain was falling in stinging sheets, and the pirates and goblins outside shivered even as they slouched against headstones and glared, each gang trying to communicate swift, agonising death if it came down to defending their leader today.

Most of the Isle folk were behind locked doors and boarded up windows and it wasn’t because of the miserable rain. Everyone expected the talks between Mal and Uma to deteriorate into a gory battle.

Mal wasn’t going to let that happen. Even if she had to bite off her own fingers to keep herself from punching Uma in the face, she wasn’t leaving until she had the pirate queen on board.

Uma leaned forward in her chair and spoke in a mocking coo. “Has the weight of the crown softened your brain Your Majesty?”

“We can do it,” Mal said firmly.

“It will never work.”

Mal exhaled. She gestured around them at the dingy classroom. The student desks had been shoved into a pile to the side and they sat in two teachers’ chairs, facing each other. “How does it feel to be back? I got a little teary walking through these halls again.”

Uma snorted at the change of subject and wrinkled her nose. “Yeah sure. I always loved running the length of the tomb for P.E and listening to Gothel tell me my pout wasn’t big enough for Selfies class.”

“But think about how it all came about. Years ago, Auradon made an effort to educate us and fill our heads with junk. Then Dr Facilier twisted Dragon Hall until it suited us and there wasn’t a damn thing Auradon could do to stop him. The heroes tried to make us follow their lead and they couldn’t.”

“Oh I see,” Uma smiled, “You wanted to have this little chat at our old school to make your mad scheme sound possible.”

She leaned back when Mal stood up, her hand twitching toward her sword. Mal pretended not to notice and went to the teacher’s desk where a bottle of fizz and two glasses lay.

“The plan is bold but simple,” Mal said over her shoulder as she poured. “I promise Auradon to help them defeat their enemies. A promise I mean to keep. The problem is, King Ben and his do-gooders won’t want to do things my way; which is the one way to win.”

“I’d like to hear more about the insignificant detail of how you plan to defeat your mother.”

Mal smirked as she walked back with their drinks. “It involves trust the king won’t be willing to give me. And an unorthodox use of magic. You don’t need to know more than that Uma. Not yet.”

She held out a glass. Uma stared at it.

“You’re not afraid I’ve poisoned it, are you?” Mal asked.

The pirate queen took the glass with a sharp smile. “I’m not afraid of you. Besides, it sounds like your grand plan can’t work without me.”

“And you can’t hope to leave the Isle without me.”

Mal dropped into her seat, copying Uma’s pose by crossing her ankles and leaning lazily back into her chair. She drank the fizz in dainty sips as if it were fine wine. Expression hard, Uma gulped down her drink. Both finished and threw their glasses against the wall.

“It’s funny,” Mal said, “If you hadn’t killed Ursula you wouldn’t have that necklace and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Uma stroked the gold shell, brows pinched in thought. “It won’t fool anyone Mal. If the king was suddenly in love with Ursula’s daughter they’d rip this thing off my neck and throw me right back here, no hesitation, no questions asked.”

“There are three reasons why that won’t happen. One, you won’t be coming with me as Uma, daughter of the sea witch. You’ll be Mira, the charming and polite daughter of some unimportant thief, but one of my closest friends. Of course, Evie will have to give you a makeover so that you look…less scraggly.”

“And what will you be going as?” Uma asked sweetly, “Because I don’t think there’s anything that could make you look less like a stuck-up bitch.”

“Two,” Mal continued as if Uma hadn’t spoken, “My mother must guess what happened when Ursula didn’t show that night. But I bet Auradon thinks she escaped with the other villains and is alive somewhere in the seven seas. They don’t know you killed her and they have no idea the necklace is with us. They won’t be expecting its magic. And I happen to know a couple of fashion obsessed girls who can glitz that shell into something unrecognisable.”

Uma seemed more interested in the grime under her fingernails, picking at it carefully. “And three?”

Mal leaned forward to the end of her seat. Her voice became low and intent, saturated with her eagerness. “You will convince that boy-king to tell no one about you: his one true love, his precious blossom. That if he wants to protect you he can’t tell anyone about the relationship, even those dearest to him, until the war is over.”

“And I also convince him to give you whatever you want.”

Mal nodded.

“If you had sea salt in your blood and could command the magic of the deep,” Uma laughed, “you’d try and take the shell from me and bewitch the king yourself.”

Mal was tempted to tell her there was no try about it.

The classroom door opened and Gil’s head popped into the room. He blinked at them both.

“Everything okay in here? You need anything?” he asked.

“Gil, get out,” Uma growled.

“It’s just that the guys said you’d be tearing out Mal’s throat by now. And I said nah, but they said yeah, and I said no way, but they said why don’t you go see? So I said fine then I will – “

“Get OUT!” Uma and Mal yelled.

He cringed and ducked out, snapping the door shut. Uma put her head in her hand and groaned a little.

“Take a minute to get yourself together,” Mal offered, making a show of getting comfortable, “I’ve got nowhere to be. King Ben will be here within days, we’ve got plenty of time to waste.”

Uma shot her a glare and then stood up and went to the windows. She stood there a long while. Mal watched her reflection in the rain-specked glass, how she stroked her shell necklace absently as she mulled it all over. Mal never wanted the power to read minds more than at this second. Finally, Uma turned to her and leaned against the windows, crossing her arms.

“Let me check I have this straight. I spell the king and make him give you what you need to defeat Maleficent.”

“Then we’ll have kept our word to Auradon and we will officially be free,” Mal confirmed, “You can go and do anything you want. Sail on a real ship. Be the pirate queen of the seas and not just an isle. Under no one’s thumb, ever again.”

Uma’s mouth curved in delight. She couldn’t hide her hunger; maybe she didn’t care to. Then she looked Mal up and down. “And what do you want out of this?”

Mal got up and slowly walked to her until she was a foot away. They both stared, unflinching. Mal tipped her head to the side as if inspecting the pirate. “I want the one thing you have that I don’t, Uma. I want the memory of my mother looking at me one last time and realizing her mistake too late. I need to know what it’s like to watch my mother’s blood run across the floor because of me.”

Mal rested a hand against the glass, beside Uma’s head. She leaned in close enough for her breath to brush against Uma’s skin. “And if you double-cross me in Auradon before I get that…you’ll either become Maleficent’s third-rate minion and enjoy her tender mercies ever after, or you’ll be back on the Isle with no second chances at freedom.”

She stepped back with a grin, tone friendly again. “Provided I don’t find a way to kill you first, of course.”

“Of course,” Uma said. She released the iron grip she had on the pommel of her sword and flipped back her turquoise braids, the only sign the dark fairy had made her nervous.

“So,” Mal said, “Are we agreed?”

She held out her hand.

Uma, eyebrow arched, looked at it with even more scepticism than when she’d thought it held a poisoned cup. She met Mal’s eyes.

“It will never work,” she said again.

And she reached out and shook Mal’s hand.

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Word that Queen Mal and Captain Uma had struck up a mysterious truce spread through the Isle of the Lost like wildfire. Most breathed a sigh of relief at the news. No more would the threat of pirate raids or a territory war hang over their heads. The normal business of stealing, plotting and fighting could go on without interruption.

But all the Villain Kids’ felt a shiver of apprehension when they’d heard. Uma had been the only one who could stand up to the Queen. And now it appeared Mal had brought her to heel. There was much speculation as to the how and why, but everyone agreed: the two of them united would take evil to a whole new level.

Chapter Text

Harry leaned against the stained wall of Curl Up and Dye and scowled down at his boots. When he wasn’t scowling at Evie, that is. Evie ignored him completely and folded yet another dress that had been rejected.

“How’s it coming Uma?” she called.

The plastic curtain Uma was behind rattled. “This outfit is ridiculous!”

Evie sniffed. “That’s impossible. I have perfect taste. You’re just shy.”

The curtain swished and Uma stomped out. Harry scowled harder.

“This is the one,” Evie beamed. She grabbed Uma by the shoulders and steered her to a cracked mirror. “Even you can’t deny it.”

Uma looked sourly at her reflection. The pirate hat and heavy jewelry were gone. Her hair was in a half bun, the turquoise braids that weren’t coiled at the back of her head hung down her back. The short blue dress she wore had swirls of intricate gold beading in random spots, like stars. A plain denim jacket and high tan boots softened her look, and the silver and gold bangles on her wrists jingled sweetly when she moved.

“You look lovely,” Evie gushed, “Who would’ve thought it.”

“Remind me why we’re doing this again,” Harry snapped, unable to keep quiet a minute longer.

“To get off this pile of rocks, what do you think?” Evie asked. She appeared to see something in the mirror she didn’t like and nudged Uma out of the way to get closer to her own reflection.

“I’m all for that,” he said, “And I can see why it helps to spell that Auradon brat. But why does she have to dress up for him? He’ll be sweet on her even if she’s the ugliest, grubbiest, most disgusting hag that ever - “

He noticed Uma’s cold eye on him. “…I just don’t get it, is all,” he mumbled.

“She’s not dressing up for the king,” Evie said while applying a new layer of lipstick, “It’s for the king’s court, who will ask less questions if Uma’s a babe and not a bloodthirsty pirate.”

Harry looked at Uma, hoping she would argue, but his captain said nothing.

Evie turned around and smiled. “Harry, if you have a problem with the plan, take it up with Uma, who will be brave enough to take it up with Mal. Or don’t come with us. There, problem solved.”

Harry straightened, using every inch of his height to stare down at Evie. “I’m Uma’s First Mate. Where she goes, I go.”

The blue haired girl laughed. “Not in Auradon. Not unless you want Uma to get found out. She’s supposed to be a simple thief – the most innocent one of us. You can’t hang around her waiting for captain’s orders.”

Harry stuttered. “What do ye mean? Our crew aren’t going to abandon her to that lot…”

Evie gave Uma a look.

“Apparently,” Uma said, dead eyed, “There’s only room on this adventure for two of my crew. I’m taking you and Gil and that’s it.”

“What?!”

“I’ve finished it,” Dizzy chirped when she bounced into the room, oblivious to the tension.

Evie clapped her hands. “Fantastic, Dizzy baby!”

“Ye can’t be serious,” Harry growled, “This is Maleficent we’re talking about! Uma ye don’t even know how Mal’s going to – “

“Hook,” Evie hissed, “Shut it. Dizzy doesn’t need to hear this.”

“I’m not a kid anymore!” Dizzy protested, “You can tell me what’s going on. I’d be a big help. Maybe if I came with you - “

“No. Not yet,” Evie said.

The young girl shrank, hurt written on her face. Evie softened. She reached out, took what Dizzy had in her hand and awed. “This is beautiful work. It’s just what we needed.”

Evie dangled the necklace in front of Uma. A gold locket, studded with fake diamonds, had been built around the magic seashell. Uma swiped the locket, eyebrow raised.

“Just pop the latch,” Dizzy told her, “and the shell is free and you can bewitch as many kings as you like. Or queens. Y’know…if you swing that way.”

Evie giggled behind her hand.

“I don’t,” Uma ground out.

“Everything’s ready now. Mal will be pleased to hear it,” Evie said.

“Well as long as Mal’s happy,” Harry drawled, “Yippeeeee.”

Evie looked at him, blue eyes dancing, and spoke in a purr. “I thought you liked making Mal happy.”

Uma pretended not to hear but he saw her bristle. And he wanted to wrap his only hand around Evie’s delicate throat and squeeze.

Dizzy tugged Evie’s sleeve and pulled her into a corner. The two whispered together, Dizzy clearly trying to convince Evie to let her in on the scheme. By the blue haired girl’s stony expression, she wouldn’t get far.

Harry swayed on his feet, thinking, and glanced at his captain. She was at the mirror and had his back to him. Her bangles tinkled as she struggled to put on the necklace. It occurred to him that the last time Uma had put it on she had just killed her mother.

She bit her lip and grunted. She’d clasped it on but her hair was caught in the chain. Their eyes met in the mirror when he came up behind her. Her hands dropped. Lips pursed, Uma stood still as he carefully lifted her hair with his hook and untangled her braids with his hand. Then he trailed his hook and hand over her shoulders and stepped close until she was pressed against him. Harry could feel the wild heat of her. It stirred his blood, made him feel crazier than usual.

“Do you think the king will like what he sees?” Uma asked quietly.

Harry jerked back from her.

She hummed and ran her fingers through her hair, preening and doing an excellent imitation of Evie.

“I’m not sure what’s hot across the water,” she giggled darkly, “But men are the same everywhere, I guess.”

“Ye guess wrong. I bet that boy is like jello. Sweet and spineless. You’ll probably be tearing your eyes out in a week. Then you’ll be glad I decided to tag along.”

Her head whipped around, outraged, but he was already turning away and striding out the door.

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The docks had been transformed. A huge pier, made of every scrap of wood and metal that could be salvaged from the Isle, now stretched out over the water, almost touching the force field. The boards went straight from the shore before curving out on the water, and on this large platform two chairs faced each other. They were heavy block-style chairs, built of twisting metal pipes and looked as sinister as they did uncomfortable. A patchwork canopy flapped above as a shield against the spits of rain.

“I have to admit Uma,” Mal said when she walked up beside her, “This is impressive.”

“It is. An impressive waste of time and effort,” she replied.

Mal shot her a smile. “We couldn’t meet the king of Auradon in your chip shop, now could we.”

“Of course not. And I do as my queen commands.”

Mal tsked and swept passed her. “We’re the best of friends now, don’t forget. Go easy on the salt.”

Mal sat in the chair that looked toward the sea, the sweeping land of Auradon and the boats rapidly approaching. Jay went to stand to her right and Carlos stood beside him, twitching nervously. Evie was on her left and Uma crossed her arms, looking exactly like a moody pirate forced to wear a pretty dress, and stood beside her.

Truth be told, Mal was a little worried that Uma couldn’t pull this off. The pirate queen was tough as nails, had a quick temper and didn’t hesitate to plunge her hands into filth – she was someone you wanted in a knife fight, not a seduction scheme. If there’d been a sure-fire way in which Evie could’ve done this Mal would’ve picked her over Uma in a heartbeat.

There were four gleaming white boats, at least as big as Uma’s ship, cutting through the water sleek as sharks. When they slowed and glided to the pier Mal saw the men lining the rails, bearing Excalibar VI crossbows and pointing the weapons straight at them, the light glinting off wickedly sharp arrowheads powerful enough to pierce through chainmail.

“Is it too late to voice concerns about this idea?” Carlos said out the side of his mouth.

“Yeah,” Jay muttered, “I don’t remember us taking a vote.”

Evie shushed them.

One boat moored in front of them and the rest surrounded the platform and kept their engines running, ready to defend or flee with their king. Two burly guys in sunglasses put a gangplank down between the boat and the pier. Mal stood up.

The first down the gangplank was a young woman Mal immediately knew was dangerous. Dressed in tight battle gear of armored plates, green and brown Kevlar cloth and a reinforced hood that doubled as a helmet, she was around Mal’s age and walked with the liquid grace of a master swordswoman. Mal felt Jay tense. He’d undoubtedly be keeping an eye on that one.

The woman stepped aside to let the next person down the gangplank. He was very handsome despite the scar going down his cheek and Mal knew without looking at her that Evie was sizing him up for her own reasons. The man was dressed in the same uniform as the swordswoman; they had the Auradon crest sewn onto the left side of their chests, and Mal realized she was looking at the king’s royal guard. Another guard came down, this one had dark skin and cunning eyes and then another, this one older than the rest and large as an adolescent ogre. The four guards stood in a line, each glaring at the VKs as if they’d already done something unforgivable.

Mal exchanged glances with her friends. This wasn’t going to be easy.

She heard a step and looked up to see King Ben coming down the gangplank.

Yes. He was here. Finally. And he was staring at her.

She kept herself expressionless but inside she was strangely nauseous. It was unnerving, she supposed, to see someone you’d never met before and yet was so familiar. That stupid dream. She had to put it out of her mind.

The king wore a uniform as well but it was different. It was clean cut and navy blue with a jacket that had rows of gold brocade down the front. There was none of the armored gear his guard had. And no weapons. Did he want to put on a show of being unafraid of the VKs or was he truly not scared? She wasn’t sure which she’d prefer.

He stopped beside his guard. No one said anything. Everyone was looking at her. Right.

Mal cleared her throat. She was guessing that “hello” wasn’t going to cut it. “As promised, we’re unarmed and it’s just the five of us. The docks have been cleared and nobody else knows you’re here. Otherwise you’d be hearing lots of murderous screaming right now,” she paused, her lips quirking, “Welcome to the Isle of the Lost, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” he said.

She almost flinched. Even his voice was like it was in the dream.

The king stepped closer and reached out his hand and she realized that he meant for her to shake it like civilised people do. She took his hand firmly. When he let go she resisted the urge to shake off the feel of his touch.

They sat in the chairs. Mal’s friends loomed protectively behind her, just like his guards did over him.

“Let me introduce you,” Mal said and gestured, “That’s Carlos, son of Cruella.”

Carlos gave a little awkward wave.

“This is Jay, son of Jafar.”

Jay nodded an acknowledgement. The dark-skinned guard’s attention lasered onto Jay and didn’t let go.

“And this is Evie, daughter of the Evil Queen.”

Evie’s smile was blinding in its beauty as she curtseyed as well as any princess.

Mal let the silence drag for a beat. “Oh,” she said, waving a hand belatedly, “And this is Mira, daughter of…someone, presumably.”

King Ben looked questioningly at Uma. Her embarrassed smile amazed Mal because she’d never seen anything like it on Uma’s face. It was so….cute.

“My parents were no one you’d know,” Uma mumbled before looking down and averting her eyes.

Mal had to rip her attention away from Uma before she made it obvious how creeped out she was. But her fears over Uma’s performance were gone at least.

“And you may call me Mal,” she said to the king as if it were a gift.

“Why are we here Mal?”

She saw one difference between the flesh and blood person before her and the one in her dream. The hazel eyes she knew were warm, loving and open. The real Ben’s eyes were harder and gave very little away. It made her relax more. She leaned back and crossed her legs.

“To see if we can work together. To stop a diabolical psychopath from wreaking ultimate destruction.”

“From what I understand, aren’t those words complimentary here? Something to be admired, not stopped?”

Touché.

“Although I’ve only ever lived on a lousy piece of it,” she said, “I’m part of this world too, King Ben, along with my friends. We don’t want it to burn. And, knowing my mother, it will.”

He said nothing, sitting still and regal as a statue, his handsome face very serious.

She smiled. “I admit my motives aren’t totally selfless. There are conditions for us helping you to defeat Maleficent.”

“How? How would you defeat her?”

Her smile widened. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’ll tell you all about it…once my friends and I are in Auradon.”

His brow lowered. In the first sign of anxiety she’d seen from him, he absently rubbed a gold ring on his finger. “Do you know how much has been done to try and stop her? How many lives have been lost? All our armies, all our magic…it’s never been enough. Nearly all the Camelot Knights are gone. Sleeping Beauty and her entire family were slaughtered in the first month. My father…he is dead.”

She blinked. Her friends and Uma shifted on their feet. Even though they didn’t care about any of those lost lives it was still shocking to hear.

“I’m sorry,” she said with appropriate feeling, “I didn’t know.”

He looked hard at her. “How can you possibly hope to succeed where all of Auradon has so far failed?”

“When your enemy is that devastating you can’t win by overpowering them. You must bypass all that power and strike where it hurts most. And to do that you need the right tactics. Wicked tactics. Something you and your people know nothing about.”

“I won’t allow you to hurt any innocents,” the king said quickly, “Not even to defeat Maleficent.”

“No innocents,” Mal said with raised hands, “This is between us and the enemy.”

“What are your conditions?” he said finally.

“It’s simple. I take thirty of my goblins plus six of my friends, the four you see here and two others, with me to Auradon. We help you defeat Maleficent and her minions. And in exchange, you give us our freedom and promise never to send us back to the Isle. No matter what.”

A quick hiss came from the female guard. The guard who couldn’t stop glaring at Jay shook his head. No one seemed happy with the idea. What a surprise.

“You think I will trade the villains’ reign of evil for yours?” the king demanded.

Mal tipped her head and spoke in a thoughtful tone. “I think you want to deal with seven kids and a couple of goblins rather than my mother.”

He stood up and her heart leaped into her throat. She’d blown it. She had asked for too much. The king wasn’t that desperate and was going to leave, and she was going to be Queen of the Leftovers until she was old and gray.

But King Ben walked to the edge of the pier, put his hands behind his back and just stood there. Mal calmed her racing pulse and watched him.

“How do I know you won’t turn on me the second you’re in Auradon?” He asked without turning.

“My mother doesn’t want me,” she said softly, “None of our parents do. If I betrayed you, I’d have no where to go. And when she found me I’d be lucky to end up back here.”

He glanced at her and there was compassion in it. It grated, but she didn’t let that show. He could feel as much pathetic sympathy for her as he wanted. It could only help her cause.

She stood up too and met his gaze squarely. “I don’t want to go to Auradon to mess around, Your Majesty. I want to go and stop Maleficent once and for all. And I swear on my life, we will. Together.”

He went to her and she could feel him trying peer past her mask and find her dark desires. But she had meant her oath. And perhaps he’d heard her sincerity.

“Everyone told me I was crazy to come here,” King Ben told her, “That you weren’t capable of good. But I’m taking a chance on you Mal. Because it’s the only way. Because I believe that no one is beyond common decency. And I have to believe you’ll honor your word.”

The lie came to her lips as naturally as breathing. “You can trust me.”

He nodded. “Then I agree to your conditions. And you have my promise.”

Chapter Text

Dawn rose on the Isle, reluctant as always. Mal and Evie watched the light creep sluggishly through the window, barely making a dent in the darkness of the bedroom. But it was beautiful. Because one way or another it would be the last sunrise they’d see here. They could feel it.

They were lying in bed with Evie resting her head on Mal’s chest and her arm slung around the dark fairy. She never cuddled like this with any of her boyfriends. Being so infatuated with her, they might’ve let her if she asked. But she couldn’t stomach the idea of basking in the warmth of someone she’d soon leave, someone who’d shortly have a new hatred to nurse.

“Is this really happening?” she whispered.

Mal touched her wrist and squeezed gently. “Yes.”

“What if we fail?”

“I won’t let that happen.”

Evie breathed deep, wrestling with exhilaration and terror. She forced out a chuckle. “What if Uma’s so annoying that not even a love spell can make the king stand her?”

“Fuck the spell. You did her makeover. No one can resist your magic touch, E.”

The flattery was well-aimed, and she had to smile. She propped herself up on her elbow to look down at Mal.

“You worry too much,” Mal said, “Everything is going to go exactly as we planned.”

Evie kissed her. It was messy until Mal grasped some of her hair and made it slower, better. Evie sighed into her mouth before stopping. She got up from the bed and shoved her boots and jacket on.

“I’ve got to go to my place and get my luggage,” Evie said.

“You don’t need to go.”

“No, no, I’m feeling okay now. Thanks.”

Mal’s smile was wicked where she lounged on the bed. “No, I mean feel free not to bring any clothes at all. We’ll put you on the front line naked and the soldiers will have a collective stroke. The war will be won in a day.”

Evie went against all her childhood training and gave Mal the finger as she sashayed out.

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Carlos insisted on holding Freddie’s arm and directing her every move, even though the voodoo witch gave him the heebie-jeebies.

“And don’t step on that tile,” he said, pointing to it, “I don’t know why I picked it. It’s too hard to see …Careful! Watch it!”

“Carlos, I get it,” she huffed, stepping with exaggerated slowness, “Only step between the tiles. I’m not stupid.”

He gulped. “Yeah. But you didn’t see what happened to the rat that snuck in here. At least I think it was a rat. It could’ve been a bird. Whatever the thing I scraped off the floor was, the air smelled like burned hair for days.”

She shook him off when they reached the stairs and went up to Mal’s lair. He chuckled at Freddie’s expression and how she turned in a circle, taking everything in. Not many Isle folk had ever seen the inside of this place, that’s for damn sure.

“What do you think?” Carlos asked.

“It’s hideous,” she said.

“It’s great you like it,” Jay said, appearing in view when he shut the fridge door. He bit into the shrivelled apple he held. “Cuz you’ll be living here.”

“What?” Freddie yelped. Then she giggled nervously. “You must be kidding. I thought Queen Mal summoned me for…I don’t know, to be punished or threatened or something.”

Jay flashed his most charming smile, though the effect was spoiled by the half-chewed food still in his mouth. “You’re too paranoid babe. The only people Mal brings up here for a whipping are Evie’s exes.”

“You would know,” Carlos muttered under his breath.

Jay’s glare foretold a beating in Carlos’s near future; he hurriedly put Freddie between himself and Jay.

“In the name of the Other Side, will someone tell me what’s going on?” she demanded.

“We’re leaving the Isle,” Jay said bluntly, “Me, Carlos, Evie, Mal, Uma, Harry. And that moron Gil. For some reason. We’re going to Auradon – and we can’t leave the Isle with no one in charge. Everyone will kill each other. So Mal picked you.”

Freddie stared at him. “Oh.”

She stumbled to the couch and sat. She looked sick, or like she’d been given a zap by the trick floor.

“Questions?” Carlos asked, “Comments?”

“Only a hundred. Each.”

“You get three. Total,” Jay said, “We’re running late.”

Freddie’s mouth opened then closed. She took a deep breath. “How the hell am I supposed to run this hellhole? I’m not Mal!”

“That’s what this is for,” Carlos said. He retrieved the book from a table and showed it to her. She eyed the purple and green “V” and “W” on the cover of the thick book. “It has everything you need to know. Every dirty secret, embarrassing weakness and vulnerability of everyone on the Isle is in this book. It’s basically a How To guide for evil reigns.”

“Mal’s lent you her goblins too,” Jay added.

Freddie flicked through the book, her eyebrows rising higher each page until they nearly disappeared into her hat. “This thing might make me like reading. And Mal is just…giving it to me, without a catch?”

Jay shrugged. “We don’t need it. The important stuff about the people who matter, is all up here now,” he pointed to his head, “The only catch is that you have to use the book to hold the Isle together. And good luck to you. You couldn’t pay me to do it.”

Her yellowy eyes suddenly narrowed on them, making Carlos think of pins being stabbed over and over into a white-haired voodoo doll.

“Am I in this book?” she asked.

Jay smiled wide. “Do you really want to waste your last question on that?”

She growled and fidgeted where she sat. Finally, she looked up again. “Why me?”

“I don’t know,” Jay said, picking up a duffel bag by the door, “All I know is Mal thinks you’re up for it. Don’t screw up.”

“Why do you guys get to leave?” she demanded, “What are you going to do on the outside?”

He wagged a finger. “Ah uh. Times up, Your Majesty,” and he walked away.

Freddie looked at Carlos. He sighed. “I shouldn’t tell you, but Mal will get to free the Isle if all goes well. And she’ll want it to still be in one piece.”

He saw the hope rise in her, the too-familiar longing. He had to turn away. He picked up his own bag but, unable to help it, he looked back. The voodoo witch was hugging the book to her chest, her brows pinched with worry.

“You’ll be alright,” he said.

“What if I’m not?” she asked, “What if…”

“Get some friends. I don’t think I’d be alive today if it weren’t for mine. I don’t think I’d want to be.”

He left Mal’s lair, or what was now Freddie Facilier’s lair, though not without singeing his sneaker a bit on that blasted tile that was too hard to see.

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Mal stepped out of the tunnel and arrived at the rendezvous point, a street on the edge of the Isle that was mostly burnt ruins thanks to Claude Frollo’s firebug phase shortly before his death. She ignored Uma, Gil and Harry and went up to the thirty goblins standing in a pack. The goblins had been bickering and poking each other but stilled immediately in Mal’s shadow. The largest one, over two-foot-tall, shoved his fellows aside and came to the front. His skin was a dirty green color and rough as sand paper. He had black eyes, floppy ears and a paunchy stomach that stretched his ragged clothing until he was nearly popping out of it.

The goblin saluted Mal. “My Queen, Captain Blibtogs reporting for duty. What an honor your royal nastiness. What an honor. Thank you for choosing me to lead this sorry band of snot-nosed grubs. I’ll make sure they don’t disgrace your foul name.”

“They better not, Captain. Or you know who will answer for it.”

He looked blank.

She sighed. “You will.”

“Right!” he barked, “Of course! I’d rather eat an ogre’s toenail clippings than disappoint your majesty! But uh….what are we supposed to do, exactly?”

Mal leaned down so she was in his face. “Whatever I tell you guys. And right now, all I want you to do is get in the car when it gets here and not make any trouble. Got it?”

Blibtogs saluted again. “Yes, My Queen!”

He scurried back to the goblins and started yelling orders at them. Uma walked up to Mal.

“I think it will take more than a rabble of goblins to stop the evilest villain in the world,” Uma mocked, “We might as well fall on our swords now.”

Mal ginned and flung her arm around Uma’s shoulders. “I don’t just have goblins. I have my sweet friend Mira to help me out.”

“That’s true. Mira would do anything for you,” the pirate grinned back.

For a moment they stood together like that; they would’ve looked like best friends if their smiles weren’t as sharp as knives.

Mal’s voice deepened. “We won’t be able to talk as freely once we’re there. People might be listening in. So remember: the second we can get you alone with him, spell him.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job. I’m not one of your creatures.”

Mal clenched her jaw, her grip on Uma tightening. Uma’s expression blackened.

“Oh look!” Gil cried, overly loud, “Evie’s here! And Carlos and Jay!”

Mal turned her head to see Evie strutting out of the tunnel, tugging along a neat little suitcase on wheels. Carlos and Jay were behind her, a duffel bag hanging off their shoulders, and they puffed and strained as they dragged oversized suitcases with them. Uma got out of Mal’s hold almost without her noticing and went back to Gil and Harry.

Evie came to stand next to Mal and flourished her hand. “I’m here!”

“Yeah,” Jay scowled, letting go of the suitcase, “and so is all her crap.”

“It’s not crap! They’re essential tools of femininity.”

“Your femininity has torn all the muscles in my shoulder,” Carlos groaned, cracking his neck.

“Poor babies,” she pouted, and gave both a smooch on the cheek. Jay was stoic but Carlos blushed and let out an embarrassed chuckle.

Evie gave Mal a once over. “Your design worked out nicely. Very villainess vogue.”

Mal nodded her thanks to her seamstress. She did love her new outfit. It was made from a leather which appeared solid black, only in the sunlight could you see it was a deeply murky purple and green. It had faint scaling, like that of a dragon, and black studs up and down the sleeved jacket. The folded leather collar was gloriously thick. And black material spilled from the back of her jacket in a train that just touched the ground. It was as if darkness itself had lovingly wrapped Mal up. She suspected she would miss her acid greens and putrid purples after a while, but this ensemble felt appropriate for the what was ahead.

Her friends and Gil also wore darker variations of their normal clothes. Harry had outright refused to give up his long scarlet coat. He’d said that anyone who thought he was a target would quickly find their intestines scrambled by a hook.

A stretch limousine appeared on the dirt road and the guys stopped grumbling. The goblins awed, tongues darting in excitement. It came to a stop in front of them and two other limousines, just as sleek and shining, followed. Hulking men wearing shades and suits stepped out of the cars, saying nothing, and calmly moving to take their bags and put them in the trunks.

Her friends looked at her. She smiled. “You ready?”

Evie squealed and darted for the car door. Carlos and Jay started shoving each other out of the way to get there first.

“Hey!” Mal said and pointed, “Boys are in that car. This one is girls only. Mira! Get over here.”

Uma shuffled to them shyly, the Mira mask fitted perfectly over her face again. She got in the car with Evie.

“BTW,” Mal called to the guys as she got in, “The goblins probably can’t all fit in one car. You’ll have to share with some of them.”

She shut the door on their groans and sunk into the plump limo seats.

“Wow,” Uma gushed, running her hands over everything, “I don’t think I’ve touched anything this clean before.”

A callous, dirty joke involving Uma and Harry sprang to Mal’s mind, but she didn’t voice it. From now on she’d have to rein it in when it came to “Mira”. The car started moving and they all jumped.

“That feels so weird,” Evie giggled, “But cool.”

“Yeah,” Mal agreed.

She thought of her dad and how she was leaving him behind, possibly forever if Mother killed her. She had gone to see him one last time and say goodbye. The visit had been the definition of awkward, with her dad barely speaking to her, and in the end she’d lost her temper and stormed out.

Mal pushed the memory down. She had to totally forget about him. No distractions.

“Ew,” Evie said, “These don’t look any tastier than what’s at my place.”

She had grabbed a few of the packets lining the limo’s shelves. They were long lasting dried food; mostly packets of various meat jerky, the rest were vegetables and a few fruits. The drinks on the shelves were bottles of water.

“Guess they don’t want to waste the good stuff on us,” Evie huffed.

“I don’t think they have much good stuff anymore E,” Mal said quietly.

“Guys!” Uma cried, face pressed against the window.

Mal and Evie looked out and gasped. They were driving on a bridge made of golden light, swirls of magic sparkles looping around them. They were already out of the Isle – just like that they were free from their prison.

“Look at the sea,” Uma murmured with such worship it must’ve been authentic, “It looks…”

Mal pounded on the screen divider. “Hey! Open up! Open up!”

The screen rolled down and the two men in front were visible, or at least the backs of their heads were.

“What just happened? How did we cross through the barrier?”

The driver held up a golden remote with one tiny button on it. “This opened it. And don’t get any ideas, witch, or you get a taste of my taser.”

“You don’t need to be mean,” Uma said, “She was just asking.”

The two men ignored that, and the screen rolled back up.

“Maybe Auradon won’t be very different to home,” Mal laughed.

“It’s not home anymore,” Evie sighed happily.

“No,” Mal said, determination filling her voice, “It isn’t.”

Chapter Text

The limousine had gone quiet inside. The three girls were looking out the windows and absorbing their first up-close view of Auradon. Mal felt stupid for being blown away by how green everything was. The faraway hills of Auradon had always been green from her balcony. But now…there were endless carpets of grass, bushes and trees bursting with every shade of emerald, jade and lime. It was blinding.

Evie was fogging up the glass with her breath as she peered out, eyes sparkling at every house or shop that went by. Uma was more dignified, now that the sea was behind them. She sat like a lady rather than a pirate and looked at their surroundings with polite curiosity. 

“A castle!” Evie squealed, tapping the glass as fast as a hummingbird’s wing, “Oh devil, a castle!”

A sprawling gray castle had appeared through the trees. It wore the Auradon flags as proudly as it did its ivy. The limo drove round the huge circular driveway and Mal saw a grander castle on the opposite side some ways away, cream-colored and palatial: Castle Beast, the royal seat and center of Auradon City.

The car stopped and the door was opened. Evie jumped out, dashing straight into the lions’ den without a second thought. Uma glanced at Mal, who rolled her eyes for the both of them. They stepped out after her.

An unusual mix of people stood waiting. Mal nodded at the king then ignored him for the moment and assessed the others. There were three women she had never met before and yet would know anywhere. Her mother’s ranting descriptions of them had been spot on. One was dressed in pink, one blue and the other green. The Three Good Fairies looked like ordinary grandmothers except for their gossamer wings and the potent sweetness they exuded.

Though I wonder if they usually scowl at people like this, Mal thought dryly, or if I am a special case.

A beautiful woman with larger wings towered next to them. She wore a glittering dress and a superior expression. Mal guessed she was the Blue Fairy. And beside her was someone even bluer. He was very tall and built like an ox, broad shouldered and bulging with muscle, and wore nothing but red harem pants and sandals – none of which was as distracting as his completely blue skin. He could only be the being known as “Genie”. He appeared bored, almost falling asleep, not paying any attention to Mal at all.

The last person was the famous Fairy Godmother. Mal recognised her from tv. She stood at King Ben’s side with a lovely smile that was a touch anxious. It was then Mal noticed her skin was prickling in warning and realized why: too many light fairies near her. And their wands were glowing, pure magic practically spitting out of the tips.

“I trust your journey was a safe one,” King Ben said solemnly, “Let me introduce you. Fairy Godmother this is Mal, Evie and Mira.”

“Hello,” Uma smiled hesitantly.

Evie beamed. “Wow. You’re Fairy Godmother, with the glass slippers and the balls and the perfect princes – “

“Yes, that is me,” Fairy Godmother said, “Hello children. I’m His Majesty’s principle advisor on the royal council. I hope we can get along while we work together.”

“I do too,” Mal said, “and I guess the rest of you are on the council as well?”

King Ben cleared his throat. “Uh, no Mal. These are members of MAAM.”

“MAAM?”

“Magicals Adamantly Against Maleficent,” the pink fairy, Flora, spoke coldly, “You could say we’re an elite force with a variety of responsibilities all aimed at opposing your mother.”

Mal grinned. “In that case I owe you my thanks. You’ve been fighting Maleficent for a long time. It’s impressive. But it’ll be a relief to have some of that burden lifted, won’t it?”

“Oooooh why you little…” Merryweather stepped toward Mal. Fauna, the green fairy, grabbed her and held her back.

“I confess to not understanding why our king brought you here,” the Blue Fairy sneered, “But that is his affair. MAAM is ours, and we don’t need your help.”

The king frowned. “Ladies, please…we’re all on the same side here.”

“Are we?” Merryweather crossed her arms.

Thankfully, the other limos parked and interrupted. A door whipped open and goblins spilled onto the driveway in a heap, screaming obscenities and fighting like angry cats. The guys got out of their own car; Harry held a goblin aloft by his hook, the goblin swinging his fists wildly as Harry tickled him and went: “coochie coochie coo”. Gil seemed to have made friends with two goblins and carried them on his shoulders. Carlos hurried to the lawn and wiped goo off his boots – explained by the burping goblin who stumbled out of the limo. The king and the light fairies stared agape at the chaos.

“Next time,” Jay snarled over at Mal, “Your minions go with you or they go in the trunk! I don’t care if they can’t breathe in there – “

He snapped his mouth shut and became motionless.

“Heh,” Genie said, “Now this is interesting.” The Genie’s eyes had become wider than humanly possible and were filled with sparkles. Suddenly he was tiny, the size of a bird, and in a flash was hovering over the goblins. He examined them through a little magnifying glass that appeared in his hand. “Goblins, if I’m not mistaken, or Ickitus Goblanis to give them their scientific name. Native to the western parts of the Summerlands.” A goblin squealed when he flew too close and instinctively tried to bite Genie’s head off. Laughing, Genie zipped out of the way just in time. He nearly flew into Jay, who gulped and stared cross-eyed at the miniature Genie floating in front of his nose.

Genie laughed again. A puff of smoke and he was normal size and back with MAAM. “This should definitely liven up the castle! It was getting depressing round here. I vote aye to letting them stay!”

“There is no vote,” the Blue Fairy said, tone clipped.

He clapped. “Then it’s settled! King Ben, if you don’t mind, I’ll go now and show the goblins where they’ll be staying.”

“You just want to play with them,” Fauna sighed.

King Ben looked at Genie’s too-real puppy dog eyes and nodded, smiling slightly.

“Come with me my little friends!” Genie said.

Blibtogs appeared at Mal’s side and gave an indignant snort. “I only take orders from my mistress! Only the foulest fiends can command Captain Blibtogs.”

King Ben scrutinised Mal, who weakly smiled back.

“Take your troops and go with him Captain. Let the genie show you around,” she said.

“Yes, Majesty,” Blibtogs saluted, then turned to his brethren, “You heard her! In line you slimy sewer rats!”

With reluctance – though for different reasons – Harry dropped his goblin and Gil bent so his two new buds could jump off him. Harry’s goblin blew a raspberry at him before scurrying into a rough line with the others. “Forward,” Blibtogs yelled, “March! Left. Left. Left, right, left. Left. Left. Left, right, left.”

“Try not to make a mess please,” Fairy Godmother singsonged after them, “The carpet has just been shampooed. Did you hear me Genie?”

Genie made a vague gesture and led the goblins through the castle doors. Blibtog’s marching song mercifully became dimmer. Gil and Harry went to stand beside Mal. Carlos hit Jay’s arm. That seemed to wake him up and Jay punched him back, scowling, before both boys joined the VKs.

“Why did you bring those…things here?” the Blue Fairy asked Mal.

“Those things can be quite useful.”

“Oh, so it has to do with your master plan does it? Please, enlighten us. I’m eager to hear this.”

Mal felt everyone’s gaze sharpen on her. She looked at the king. “You want me to tell you the plan? Now?”

King Ben’s eyebrows went up. “Is that a problem?”

“Is that a….?” Mal put her hand on her hip, “Yes, it’s a problem. For years, my friends and I have been kept completely isolated, unable to learn anything about the war. We don’t know what Maleficent’s done or where she’s been, what land the enemy occupies, the number of soldiers, the movements of her lieutenants…how am I supposed to adapt my plan to this war when I know next to nothing about it?”

“What tosh!” Flora scoffed, “She’s stalling Sire. If this girl has a plan to defeat Maleficent you must make her tell us or send her back to the Isle!”

“The whelp probably doesn’t have a plan. If she does, let her prove it,” Merryweather said.

“Sure. Force me to speak so I’ll sound like an idiot,” Mal bit out, “and you get your way and have me booted before I’m even through the door.”

“Your Majesty,” the Blue Fairy implored, touching the king’s arm. His brow furrowed, uncertain. 

Fairy Godmother stepped forward. “Miss Mal’s request…is a reasonable one.”

Jay guffawed at the word “miss” and Mal spared a moment to glare at him.

Fairy Godmother continued. “She cannot speak on what she does not know. No plan was ever successfully realized without knowing the lay of the land.”

The Good Fairies opened their mouths, but King Ben raised a hand and stopped them. “You’re right Fairy Godmother. We must give Mal some time to learn what’s been happening. We shouldn’t rush into this blindly,” he looked straight at Mal, hazel eyes intense, “And I promised that her and her friends would never return to the Isle. I will hear no more about sending her back.”

The Blue Fairy snapped her hand back as if stung. “My king…”

He turned to Fairy Godmother. “Thank you. I’ll take it from here.”

She took the cue and shook her wand at the other fairies. “Come. Let the young folk talk. They don’t need us ‘cramping their style’, as they say.”

With a wave of her wand, the woman disappeared and in her place was a bobbing white light, bright as a moonbeam. The Three Good Fairies grumbled but tapped their hats with their wands and transformed into colored lights. Expressionless, the Blue Fairy swished her wand and became a silvery-blue light and together the fairies flew up into sky. The alarm bells ringing inside Mal faded into nothing. She exhaled. That had been sickening.

“Light fairies are exactly how I imagined they would be,” Mal said.

“I’m sure they mean well,” Uma piped up.

“They do,” King Ben said, “They’re just wary of…strangers.”

“Right,” Mal smiled thinly, “King Ben, you haven’t met Gil and Harry have you?”

The king reached out to shake hands. Gil’s grin was huge as he shook vigorously. “You’re strong. My dad always said you’d be a pretty face but wimpy. But you ain’t.”

“You’re dad?”

“Gaston.”

With an odd, unreadable expression, the king let go and turned to Harry.

Harry held up his hook. “I only shake with my left,” he purred.

King Ben chuckled a little and backed away. “How about we get you guys set up, huh?”

He crooked his finger to the men in shades who had accompanied them in the limos. The trunks were popped and their luggage was retrieved. Four guys were needed to carry those two bags of Evie’s. The front garden the king led them through had seen better days, it was overgrown and spotted with weeds. Mal eyed the golden statue of King Beast overlooking them all.

“If that’s your home,” Mal pointed at the cream-colored castle in the distance, “Then what’s this place?”

King Ben paused in front of the statue. “It used to be Auradon Prep, a boarding school my father created. Kids would come from every land and learn how to be the next generation of heroes – relying on technology, science and one’s own abilities rather than magic. But once the war started…everyone wanted to be with their families and try and protect their homes. So now this castle is used for war councils and intelligence briefings.”

He clenched his jaw and walked on.

The castle’s interior was panelled walls and high beams of rich, golden wood. The ceiling was remarkably high and the light coming through the stain glass windows cast impressions of the royal crest on the gray floor.

“This is what it must feel like to be in church,” Hook muttered in disgust.

The royal guard had been standing inside waiting for their king. Their body language was much more relaxed than it was at the Isle. Their hatred of the VKs was also more or less hidden behind masks of calm. Perhaps they were more confident in their own territory. Two stepped forward, the Asian swordswoman and the dark-skinned, crafty looking guard.

“This is the head of the royal guard: Lonnie,” King Ben told the VKs, “She and Aziz will be your escorts during your stay here.”

“Escorts, really,” Mal said wryly.

Lonnie walked up to Mal wearing a non-smile. “Yeah, you know. So that you don’t get lost or find trouble you can’t handle.”

“We sure do appreciate that.”

The VKs backed this up with grunts and half-hearted nods.

“I’m the daughter of Fa Mulan and Li Shang by the way,” Lonnie said.

“And I’m the son of King Aladdin and Queen Jasmine,” Aziz grinned at Jay, “What a day for you huh?”

Jay shrugged, acting very nonchalant.

“And who might you be?” Evie asked, batting her eyelashes at the handsome guard with the scar. The guard didn’t move from where he leaned against the wall.

“Prince Chad Charming,” he said.

Evie gasped. “Charming? As in Cinderella’s charming?”

His lips curled. “Have you ever heard of anyone else named Charming?”

“Chad,” the king said warningly.

Evie was unfazed, twirling her hair while she stared at Prince Chad. The bulky guard who appeared to be near thirty years old spoke up with a gruff voice. “My name is Noah Michaels.”

The VKs waited.

“That’s it,” Noah said.

“Who are your parents?” Mal asked.

“Liam and Georgia Michaels.”

The VKs looked at each other to see who knew the names.

“They’re not anyone famous,” he snapped, “Not all kids have legendary parents.”

Uma’s warm laughter filled the room, drawing everyone’s attention onto her. She smiled at Noah as if they were already friends. “I know what you mean. My parents are nobodies too and people always expect me to be from something extraordinary because of who I hang with. It’s crazy.”

“Yeah,” Noah agreed, softening.

Mal inwardly smirked at the way the king was regarding Uma thoughtfully.

“Lonnie and Aziz can show you to your rooms. I need to arrange for your update on the war. Excuse me,” King Ben said.

He left, followed by Prince Chad and ‘Nobody’ Noah. Lonnie and Aziz led the VKs up one of the sweeping staircases, the men who were carrying their bags bringing up the rear. They were brought to a corridor with many doors and portraits of past heroes.

“There’s two people to a room. I guess the guys will pair up and one of the girls gets a room to herself,” Lonnie said. 

“Lucky you Mira,” Mal said.

Aziz herded the guys into their rooms and Lonnie opened the door for Mal and Evie.

Mal’s jaw dropped as she went inside. “It’s so – “

“Perfect!” Evie trilled.

“I was going to say pink. Extremely and unnecessarily pink. Are those flowers on the curtains?”

“Yes. They’re called peonies,” Lonnie said.  

Mal vowed to herself that when she ruled Auradon she’d ban pink throughout the kingdom. And peonies were to be kept really, really far away from her, on pain of death. Evie fell onto one of the two canopy beds, nearly disappearing into it because of its plushness. She sighed dreamily. Mal huffed and pulled the curtains closed to block out the pesky sunshine. Their luggage was dumped at the foot of their beds and the sullen men in shades left. Lonnie lingered by the door.

“Yes?” Mal raised a brow.

“Just wanted you to know that either me or Aziz will be outside in the hallway,” Lonnie smiled, “At all times.”

“I feel safer already.”

Lonnie shut the door behind her and Mal sat at the edge of her bed. “Weird. It’s like they don’t trust us or something.”

Evie giggled and sprang onto her feet. She darted around the bedroom, investigating everything. “Look Mal. Free hand lotion!”

“Fantastic,” Mal intoned. In her head she went over the encounter between her and the light fairies, trying to gauge how much of a problem they were going to be.

“A scented candle! Mhmmm it smells like….I don’t know what. A dessert maybe?”

Who else was a member of MAAM, Mal wondered. They weren’t a part of the king’s council but were obviously influential. She had to find out who else would be protesting the VKs’ presence…

“What an awesome mirror. It doesn’t have a single crack in it. And for not being magic, it really shows off my good side…”

“Evie,” Mal growled, “I’m trying to plot. Can you keep it down?”

“Mal…”

“I don’t care about the stupid mirror!”

“Mal!”

“What?!”

Evie grabbed Mal’s chin and forcibly turned her head, just in time for Mal to catch sight of one of Evie’s big suitcases shuddering. Mal slowly stood up. The suitcase stopped moving. Evie turned to her, eyes wide and freaked out. Mal held a finger to her lips. Evie nodded fast. Tiptoeing to the bedside tables, Mal picked up a vase and a heavy book and gave the book to Evie.

Quietly, both girls bent down to where the suitcase lay. Gesturing for Evie to do the same, Mal took one zipper and Evie took the other and both carefully unzipped. Evie jumped back, book raised above her head and ready to strike. Mal raised her vase with one hand and mouthed: “Three. Two. One!”

She flipped the bag open and Evie screamed immediately and swung.

“It’s me! It’s me! Don’t hurt me!”

“Dizzy?” Evie croaked.

“Dizzy!” Mal yelled.

The girl nestled snugly in Evie’s clothes wiggled her fingers. “Hi."

Chapter Text

Dizzy stepped out of Evie’s suitcase and raised her arms and stretched. “Ow. That was rougher than I thought it would be. Weren’t those guys worried there might be fragile things in here? They threw me around like a sack of potatoes.”

Evie dropped the book she’d been holding, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are – are you all right?”

Dizzy cleaned her glasses with her sleeve then put them back on. “Yeah, I…Wow. Wow. You’re right Evie this place is perfect! It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I know right?” Evie beamed.

Dizzy touched the curtains of the canopy bed. “Just feel this fabric…that’s quality.”

Mal tossed the vase she’d nearly bashed Dizzy’s head with onto her bed, where it bounced off and shattered on the floor. “What the hell Dizzy? What are you doing here?”

“I came to help you guys. And see Auradon, of course,” she said.

“Wait a second,” Evie said, peering into the suitcase Dizzy had been in. She glared at the girl. “Did you take some of my stuff out?”

“Well. There was so much, and I couldn’t fit…”

Evie’s hand jumped to her throat. “What did you take? My black leather boots? My hairdryer? Oh, please don’t say you threw out my makeup bag.”

Snarling, Mal snapped her fingers in front of her best friend’s face. “Evie! Focus! We’ve got bigger problems. Like how to convince the king we didn’t smuggle someone in under his nose.”

Evie blinked. “We didn’t know about it. She stowed away, it’s not our fault.”

Mal began pacing. “What does that matter? You saw what happened outside. The king’s trust in us hangs by a thread and everyone around him is waiting to call us out. And thanks to her they now have a damn good excuse. And we haven’t been here fifteen minutes.”

Dizzy blanched at the way Mal was looking at her and stepped closer to Evie, into the shadow of her protection.

Evie hesitated. “Maybe if we explain that it was an honest mistake…I mean, he’s a good guy right? He might understand.”

“We have to immediately offer to send her back,” Mal said.

“No!” Dizzy clutched Evie’s arm. “I want to stay with you.”

“If you don’t go back it looks like we’re trying to pull something. It looks like we lied and tricked the king,” Mal said, “Which is exactly the impression we are trying. Very. Hard. Not. To give.”

Evie’s expression grew mournful. She faced Dizzy and automatically fussed with the girl’s hair, rearranging the glittery clips. “Dizzy baby. I told you it was too dangerous for you to come. Why didn’t you listen?”

Dizzy’s mouth had a stubborn bend to it. “You promised me I would always have you. You said you’d never leave me behind.”

“Our objective is more important than your hurt feelings,” Mal snapped.

Dizzy’s eyes filled with angry tears. “I’m not talking to you, you – you half breed!”

Mal’s jaw dropped at the same time as Evie’s. Even Dizzy appeared shocked she said it.

Mal took a menacing step forward. “You little – “

Evie held out a hand, blocking Mal from getting any closer. “Stop! Both of you calm down. Please. This isn’t helping.”

Mal pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “I have to go talk to King Ben. The longer we delay the worse it will be for us.”

“What can I do Em?” Evie asked.

“You,” she replied, “Stay. And stop me if I try and kill her.”

She called out when she was in the hallway. “Mira! Get your butt out here.”

When Uma walked out of her dorm Mal turned to Aziz and Lonnie. She told them she needed to see the king, urgently. Within Aziz and Lonnie’s shared glance was a whole conversation, the kind comrades-in-arms are expert at. Lonnie had an expression that said “This better be good”, and led the way, Aziz staying behind.

“What’s going on?” Uma whispered.

“Something…came up,” Mal told her, “This will take some sweet-talking.”

“Got it.”

Mal and Uma were shown into a room with many armchairs, bookshelves and coffee tables. It was a mix of library and café and had an empty feel, the way rooms get when they weren't used enough. Five people stood around King Ben, tapping out notes on their phones as he spoke. Nobody Noah stood at the wall, alert and on watch. Four of the five excused themselves and scurried off, so consumed with carrying out their king’s wishes that they didn’t notice the VKs when they left. There was only one who was reluctant to leave: a drab, frumpy girl with a limp blue bow stuck onto the side of her head.

“But Ben,” the girl said, “That footage is classified ultra – even I’m not allowed to see it. And my mom helped acquire it. And as if I couldn’t be trusted. Now you want me to show it to…”

“It’s necessary. Trust me.”

She licked her lips. “But there’s no protocol for showing classified info to…you know.”

“Sometimes protocol needs to be ignored, when it’s important enough,” he replied.

“But the paperwork alone means it will take at least – “

“Jane,” the king said with a touch of exasperation, “I know you can do this. Please make this happen.”

Jane looked at the phone in her hand, then the king and then back at her phone. “Yes, Sire.”

Brows pinched with worry, she nearly walked straight into Mal. Jane’s lips quivered and she made the strangled squeaking sound of a dying mouse. Mal’s smile – one of her most harmless truly, she didn’t show teeth or anything - sent Jane running.

“Mal, Mira,” King Ben said, coming closer and putting his hands in his pockets, “do you like the dorms?”

“They’re lovely,” Uma enthused.

Mal struggled to force out a compliment. King Ben smiled knowingly at her and this irritated her for some reason. She raised her chin. “I’ll be very comfortable there, thank you.”

 “You’re welcome. But you didn’t want to see me just to say that, did you?”

“No. Can we sit down?”

He gestured to a circle of armchairs. Mal flicked out the train of her outfit before she sat. She wasn’t so angry that she’d punish Evie by wrinkling her creation. Uma took a seat and Ben joined them. Lonnie stood behind Ben, crossing her arms, while Nobody Noah remained where he was.

Mal took a breath. “I hate to say this, believe me you have no idea how much, but I’ve discovered an, an unexpected complication.”

“What do you mean?” King Ben asked.

“Someone from the Isle smuggled herself here by hiding in Evie’s suitcase,” she winced as she said it. It was like ripping off a band aid. But the sting didn’t fade.

The king stared at her.

“What?” Lonnie yelped, indignant.

“Who?” Uma asked.

“Dizzy,” Mal told her.

Uma groaned. “Of course.”

“Dizzy?” the king asked.

“Dizzy Tremaine,” Mal said, “Granddaughter of the wicked stepmother, Lady Tremaine.”

His expression turned incredulous. “Am I supposed to believe you had no idea an extra person was with you?”

“I didn’t!” Mal protested, “I hadn’t a clue.”

“We had a deal Mal.”

“We did. We still do. Dizzy’s only a child. She was in love with the idea of Auradon and couldn’t stand being left behind.”

His voice gained a dangerous edge. “You said at our first meeting that only seven, including you, knew about the plan to come to Auradon. How did this girl know of it?”

Mal paused. There was no right answer to this. “I apologise. I didn’t mean any harm. This is a small hiccup with an easy fix. Send Dizzy back to the Isle today, this minute, and we can continue as agreed.”

King Ben leaned back and tapped the arm of his chair, considering. Mal ignored Lonnie’s scowl and held the critical gaze of the king.

“Your Majesty,” Uma spoke up gently, “Please don’t be angry. Evie is like Dizzy’s big sister. And she’s the only family Dizzy has left…now that her grandmother’s gone.”

He looked at her. She scooted forward, giving him a closer view of her warm, earnest eyes. “If you think she’s a scheming troublemaker, you’re wrong. That’s the Isle stereotype, no doubt. But like me, she never did anything to deserve the Isle. She was born there. That’s all.”

“She sneaked in and tricked all of us,” he said, “This isn’t a game, Mira.”

“You’re right. It’s war. Think about that: she smuggled herself into a war.”

He pressed his lips together. Mal and Uma waited for him to speak, neither daring to say more.

“The Isle must be an awful place if an Auradon under attack sounds more appealing,” he said finally.

Mal and Uma exchanged looks.

“It’s no picnic that’s for sure,” Mal said. “In fact, to my knowledge, there’s never been a picnic on the Isle. Or even a barbecue.”

He laughed once but, to her surprise, appeared sad. “I used to imagine what it was like for those on the Isle. How Auradon must’ve seemed to them.”

“And I guess,” he sighed, “I can’t blame Miss Tremaine for acting the way the rest of my people have: fighting to be with your family, no matter what.”

Mal couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are…are you saying she can stay?”

King Ben nodded. “As long as she doesn’t get up to mischief or disrupt our mission, yes. She can stay, indefinitely.”

Uma grinned. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He stood and Mal and Uma copied him. “If that’s all?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mal said, somewhat awkward.

Uma headed for the door but Mal was slower. She looked back at the king.

“Evie will be happy,” she said lamely.

He blinked and she turned quickly to follow Uma.

“Wasn’t that nice of him?” Uma said to Mal as they walked back to their rooms. Only someone who knew Uma would be able to detect the smirk buried under the fake, gushy voice she spoke in.

“You made a good case,” Mal replied.

“The king is known for his generous heart,” Lonnie said haughtily behind them.

“I’m sure he is,” Uma said agreeably.

“Should I check the rest of your things for more surprises?” Lonnie quipped, practically breathing down their necks, “Since you were oblivious to an entire person, there’s no telling what else you could’ve accidentally brought with you. Maybe there’s a spinning wheel in your luggage or poisoned apples in your fanny pack?”

Mal kept her gaze forward. “What’s a fanny pack? It doesn’t sound PG-rated, does it Mira? Auradonians must faint at the sight of it.”

“You don’t know anything about our people,” Lonnie’s voice was hard, “We’re stronger than you could ever understand. We don’t shy away from looking inwards. We’re not afraid to try and protect more than our own self. And we especially – “

When nothing further was said, Mal spoke. “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me why you are so feared and mighty.”

Lonnie didn’t speak. Mal and Uma stopped and looked back. Lonnie wasn’t moving, she stared blankly in their direction with her mouth hanging open. She wasn’t just still – she was frozen somehow. Uma went and waved her hand in front of the guard’s face. Nothing, not even the tremble of an eyelash. Mal suddenly felt ill.

Uma turned and she looked past Mal, her eyes widening. Mal whirled around.

“I can answer that,” The Blue Fairy said.                  

She stood in the middle of the hallway, holding her wand like a schoolmistress about to discipline an errant student. She tipped her head as she considered Mal, her eyes hard as diamonds. “Why are the people of Auradon to be feared? Because we never, ever let a villain get away. Not one. Every renegade, outlaw and sinner has been wiped from this good earth once. And they will be again.”

Mal nodded slowly. “Great. That’s what I’m here to help with.”

The beat of The Blue Fairy’s wings was as soft and languid as her laughter. She came closer to loom over Mal. “You? Even if you were sincere, what could you do? Where’s your spell book? Your staff? Your wand?”

Mal felt the point of a wand dig into her throat. Mal hissed. It was only slightly less painful than a lit cigarette burning into her skin. The Blue Fairy stared her down.

Mal refused to move even as the dark inside her rebelled at the contact with light magic. “My evil artefacts must be in my other pants. Sorry.”

The tip was pressed harder and she couldn’t say another word.

“You’ve not cast a spell in your life,” the Blue Fairy murmured, “A stunted darkling like you might’ve been worth something on the Isle. But out here, magic is what counts.”

She took back her wand. The pain vanished. Mal touched her throat, expecting to feel a blistering burn. But there was only smooth skin.

“You’ve set yourself against the most powerful practioners of magic in the land,” The Blue Fairy said.

“You’re mistaken – “ Mal began, but The Blue Fairy held her wand higher and silver sparks jumped out, and she shut her mouth.

“When you betray your true intentions to the king I’ll personally see to it that you and your friends,” she acknowledged Uma with a disdainful look, “go back where you belong.”

A wave of her wand and she was a bluish light again. The light sailed past Mal and Uma and circled Lonnie three times.

“ – don’t allow others to take advantage of our kindness as if it were a weakness,” Lonnie said, then paused. “Why have you stopped? The dorms are this way.”

The guard didn’t notice the fey light flying around a corner and disappearing. She didn’t notice that Uma and Mal weren’t where they’d been a moment ago.

The two VKs looked at each other and had a whole conversation in silence. Uma stroked her gold locket.

Chapter Text

All of the VKs except Dizzy – who was ordered to keep to the room she shared with Uma now - strode into what obviously used to be a classroom. A note of dust was in the air, but it was still miles better than anything in Dragon Hall. Mal could imagine the rich, privileged Auradon kids who used to be here, sitting up straight and eagerly gobbling up lessons in righteousness until they were full of it.

“I never thought I’d have to sit in a place like this again,” Jay grumbled, giving a desk a small kick.

“I won’t have to answer questions, will I?” Gil asked nervously. “I’m not very good at that.”

“You’re just here to be briefed,” Lonnie said as she shut the doors behind them.

“But I like going commando,” Gil said. “The freedom is totally worth the chaffing.”

Lonnie grimaced. “Ew. I’ll pray to my ancestors later and ask to unhear that.”

“Please put in a word for me,” Evie said as she inched away from Gil.

“To be briefed, means to be informed Gil,” Carlos explained. “Lonnie will be telling us about the enemy and the status of the war.”

“Uh, actually,” someone piped up, “I’ll be doing that.”

She stood at the head of the classroom and had possibly been hiding behind the whiteboard when the VKs had come in. She wore clunky shoes and a faded blue dress that was too big for her and made her body a curveless lump. The stupid blue bow still tacked to her hair allowed Mal to recognise her as the girl with King Ben yesterday. From what she could tell, the mouse was one of his close minions.

“Hi, I’m Jane,” she walked and held out her hand, but quickly lost her nerve and dropped it before anyone could think to shake it.

“Didn’t see you there,” Carlos said.

“Heh, yeah I get that a lot,” she said with a little smile. “Um, would you all take a seat? Please?”

The VKs spread themselves out in the middle row. Lonnie took a back seat. Harry got to work straight away on carving filthy words on his desk with his hook. If the defacement of property bothered Jane, she didn’t dare comment.

Uma smiled at Jane. “No offence, but you weren’t what I was expecting. I thought a one-eyed  general with a moustache would be shouting at us.”

Jane busied herself with her phone. “I’m not a warrior but I am the King’s aide…well, one of them.”

“You’re his secretary,” Evie smirked. She could always see past the half-truths girls used to spare themselves embarrassment. “He chose you to lecture us?”

“I’m as knowledgeable about the war as anyone,” Jane flushed. “And I hear lots from my mom.”

“Your mom?” Uma asked.

Jane’s head got lower, her eyelashes nearly brushing her phone screen. “I’m the daughter of – of Fairy Godmother.”

Everyone stared at her.

“Really,” Mal said.

Jane hurriedly took the teacher’s seat. “Anyway, these are the basics.”

The whiteboard lit up and Jane swiped her phone and a map of the U.S.A appeared.

Carlos laughed, delighted. “A smartboard. Cool.”

“You’ve never seen a – “ Jane stopped herself, “I mean, of course you haven’t.”

Carlos straightened, clearly feeling he had to defend himself. “We have tech on the Isle. Just nothing advanced. And there’s tons of scrap you can build anything out of.”

Evie pursed her lips. “Anything except that laser machine I requested.”

He gave Evie a hurt look. “You can use wax like all the other girls.”

“Wax for what?” Gil asked.

Harry leaned over with a smirk. “How do you think molls are so smooth everywhere mate?”

“Aren’t they just like that?” Gil asked.

“Nah,” Harry said, grinning, “If they did nothing, then in a week they’d be hairier than a capuchin monkey.”

Gil turned in his seat, looking at the female VKs with growing amazement as a lifelong belief was shattered.

Mal put her head in her hands. “Would you idiots shut up and pay attention? Don’t you want to know what our parents have been up to since they left us?”

Harry dropped the smile, the light in his eyes stamped out and stared at the smartboard. Gil settled in his seat.

“Right,” Jane cleared her throat, “So this is Auradon as it is now.”

Mal studied the map. Her mother had been busy. All of the regions above The Great Wall were Maleficent’s now. The ancient lands of Agrabah, Northern Wei, Schwartzvald and Olympus had fallen as well as beautiful Apheliotia; these victories alone meant Maleficent’s new kingdom outsized King Ben’s. But – unsatisfied of course – she had extended below the wall; North Riding, Neverland and Towering Heights were hers. And what was most alarming to see was the black mark on neighbouring Camelot.

“I’m guessing Camelot was the most recent conquest?” Mal asked.

Jane nodded. “Yes. We’re able to gather intel on most occupied regions, but Camelot is still in upheaval and the only thing we know for certain is that most of the enemy forces are stationed there. And that the Evil Queen has been chosen as High Warden.”

“What’s a High Warden?” Evie asked sharply.

“The leader of an occupied region, answering only to the Mistress of Evil. Their job is to keep their region and its people under control.”

At once Mal saw how it worked. “Nice,” she said appreciatively. “They break their backs taming the land, thinking they got a fat slice of cake, while Maleficent can focus on completing her world domination. I bet they’d be disposed of as soon as she finished.”

Evie wasn’t comforted. She picked at her nails with abandon, chipping off the nail polish. “So. Mother got the splendid castle she always wanted. All to herself.”

Mal tried to catch her eye but she didn’t look up.

“Is my pa Warden of Neverland?” Harry demanded, “He is, isn’t he? Tell me!”

He glared at Jane, leaning forward with his hook outstretched. Jane quickly swiped her phone, and the smartboard flicked through slides in a blur until stopping on one with the heading “Neverland” with bullet points and data underneath it.

Jane cleared her throat again. “Captain Hook is High Warden – “

Harry slammed his fist on the desk. “I knew it!

“ - and he’s turned Neverland into a lawless rat’s nest. The pixies fled across the sea and into the Summerlands. The survivors of the Red Tribe are enslaved. And we don’t know what’s happened to Peter Pan. Poor things…”

Jane stopped, too sad to continue. Mal was impatient to hear more and fake-coughed.

Jane woke up and addressed them all. “Maleficent had a large fleet of magical sail ships built for Captain Hook. Their speed is a match for our modern ships and whenever the pirates want to shake us off an enchanted fog appears. They’ve been attacking our coasts from east to west. Our navy and the Sea Kingdom are doing their best to fend them off, but it takes all their time and energy.”

“What about Ursula?” Uma asked. “Is the Sea Kingdom busy with her as well?”

The VKs glanced at her. There hadn’t been the tiniest giveaway in her voice, the question had been all politeness and concern. Uma’s nerve was scary impressive.

Jane frowned. “There’s been no sign of the Sea Witch. There’s fears she may prove to be the weapon Maleficent uses to take over the Sea Kingdom. But don’t worry, the merfolk are on high alert.”

Uma twirled a braid lazily, a picture of girlish innocence. “Just as well.”

“Let me take a wild stab in the dark as to who the other High Wardens are,” Mal drawled.

“Yeah,” Jay said, crossing his arms, “Tell me about my dad.”

Jane flicked to the next slide. “Agrabah. We have more contacts and spies there than any other occupied region. Maleficent gave Jafar a new staff to hypnotise others with, but he’s only managed to hypnotise around half the people – that seems to be the staff’s limit. The other half just pretend to be zombies so they don’t anger him. Everyone is worked to the bone to build him a better and better palace and bring him his next random fancy.”

Jay chuckled without humor. “That’s dad. If it wouldn’t kill him, he’d eat diamonds and gold.”

“But the royal family managed to escape when the city fell,” Jane said, relieved to speak about something good for the first time.

“I know. We met Aziz,” Jay said, not sounding happy about it.

“What about my dad?” Gil broke in eagerly, “What’s he leader of?”

Jane’s eyes darted to Lonnie then back to Gil. She opened her mouth hesitantly. “Um. Mr LeGume is not…he’s gone. He died.”

Gil blinked. “Oh.” He looked around blankly. “Oh.”

Mal wondered how he felt. She’d assumed all VKs hated their parents for abandoning them. But maybe Gil hadn’t? He’d always been a little softer, a blunt tool that no cynicism in the world could sharpen. And now he looked…lost.

Uma stood up and walked behind where Gil sat. She draped her arms over him and rested her chin on his head. He went completely still, as if a bird had landed on his finger and he didn’t want to frighten it away. Evie made a startled noise and Carlos’s eyes went wide. Harry scowled, the point of his hook grounding into the table.

“Don’t be sad Gil,” Uma murmured, “He didn’t deserve you. Remember that.”

Mal was half-amused, half-sickened. She never thought she’d be missing the old Uma.

Gil slowly put his hand on hers and smiled.

“How did he die?” Mal asked bluntly.

“That’s not in my notes,” Jane said, swiping her phone again, “Let’s move on yeah? Both Cruella and Dr Facilier are High Wardens, sharing Towering Heights.”

“My mom?” Carlos asked in disbelief, “Sharing? She’s not done that once in her life.”

“Well she’s learned,” Jane said grimly, “Because Cruella and the Shadow Man have made quite the team. With his voodoo magic, he’s turned the entire populace of Towering Heights into animals. And anyone who disobeys or tries to escape is…Cruella takes care of them. In her own way.”

Carlos gulped, turning a bit green. “Are they…are the people turned into d-dogs?”

“A lot of them,” Jane nodded, unable to look at the VKs.

“That woman is crazy twisted,” Jay said with a certain awe.

“I could go into more detail if you need…” Jane said weakly.

“I think we get the picture,” Mal said, “Now for the big question. Where’s Maleficent?”

All eyes focused intently on Jane.

Uma had returned to her seat and glanced at Mal. “Are you sure you’re ready to hear this?”

Mal ignored her. “Jane.”

“Well. We think Maleficent is above The Wall, at Winter’s Keep. It’s the place we have the least intel on. Princess Elsa and Princess Anna are presumed dead and every spy we’ve tried to plant there disappeared. What we know for sure is that goods are taken from the regions and hoarded there. Food, money, weaponry, magical artefacts – they’re drained from the country so it can just sit there in icy vaults.”

“You know where she is,” Harry said, “Ever thought of going up there, dragging her out by her hair and kicking her teeth in?”

Jane stared.

“Are you volunteering?” Jay snorted. “I’d love to see you try it.”

“You wanna see what I would try, pretty boy?” Harry hissed.

“There’s four occupied regions and a giant wall between us and Winter’s Keep,” Mal lectured, “We can’t just waltz in. And though Winter’s Keep is beside the sea, Captain Hook makes it impossible to arrange a naval attack – he’d either block our advance or trap us between his ships and one pissed off dragon.”

Mal tapped her finger thoughtfully on her desk. Everyone watched her and waited for her next words. “I can understand why she’s impossible to get to and why you haven’t tried it. But neither she, nor her army, can be everywhere at once. Why the hell hasn’t Auradon managed to take back a single region?”

There was a growl from the back. “Say one bad word about our soldiers…” Lonnie warned.

Mal turned her head to look her in the eye. “I’m wondering why the army hasn’t received the support it needs. It’s recently been pointed out to me that Auradon has some of the most powerful practioners of magic at their disposal. Has MAAM been sitting on their hallowed hands this whole time?”

“No!” came Jane’s protest, with only a little timidity at the edges. “My mom and her friends work tirelessly - ”

“It would be easy for MAAM to teleport themselves and a small group inside the territory and take out the Warden,” Mal said, “Without a boss, the underlings will be disorganised and afraid, you could liberate the entire region within a day.”

“We’re not the idiots you think we are. Tell them Jane,” Lonnie said.

Jane put her phone down on the desk, her slides forgotten. She looked small behind the teacher’s grand desk and her round face betrayed her every sorrow and frustration. “Maleficent puts a magical barrier around every region she captures.”

The VKs collectively tensed at the words “magical barrier” like beasts who heard somewhere the steel jaws of a hunter’s trap snapping closed.

“You mean,” Evie said slowly, “The people there are trapped behind a barrier like we were?”

Jane shook her head. “It took all of our sorcerers and fairies to create the Isle of the Lost’s barrier. Not even the Mistress of Evil can replicate it. Maleficent’s barrier doesn’t keep people in. It warns the region’s High Warden the instant any light magic practitioner, or object associated with light magic, crosses the border.”

The wheels in Mal’s mind turned furiously. “Okay. There’s no element of surprise. A pity, but there’s still a good chance you could defeat the Warden – “

“You don’t understand. There are thousands of Auradonians subjugated in each region. If the barrier alerts the Warden, soldiers start killing our people,” Jane bit her lip, “It’s…it’s been proven.”

Mal struggled to contain her exasperation. “So you retreated.”

“Of course we retreated,” Lonnie snapped, “We’re not going to be responsible for the slaughter of our own.”

Evie looked at Jane and Lonnie in astonishment. “It’s sad, yes, but…surely if the choice is between loss of life and total defeat, you have no choice?”

“Right,” Mal agreed, “This is a war. The most important thing is to win.”

Lonnie stood up, black eyes filled with fire. She strode up to where Mal sat and looked down with contempt. “Winning isn’t worth it if you lose your soul in the process, if you sacrifice your principles and become the villain. There are children in those places. There are babies. And all of that means nothing to you, no doubt,” she put her hand on Mal’s desk and leaned over so she was in her face, “But remember, I was there when you swore to King Ben: your plans will not hurt any innocents. We’re not screwing around with those barriers and neither are you.”

For a moment longer, Lonnie glared at Mal, who was as expressive as a stone wall. Then the royal guard stalked away and Mal allowed herself to look at Evie. The blue haired girl had been waiting for that glance, and her thoughts were exposed to Mal through worried eyes: What are we going to do?

Mal clenched her jaw. This was the first snarl in her master plan, and it was a potentially disastrous one. It was something she hadn’t predicted but should’ve. Her mother never missed a trick; Auradon’s greatest weakness was that they weren’t willing to go far enough, they were controlled by morals and ideals.

And, as long as Mal was technically on their side, she was likewise restrained.

Which begged the question: How could she go into enemy territory and wield Fairy Godmother’s Wand without releasing a dam of innocent blood?

Chapter Text

Castle Beast’s library was the most enormous room Uma had ever seen. It had a glass domed ceiling so high it gave her a realisation of her own smallness, like how Jack must’ve felt when he crept into the giant’s house. There were countless books in the wall shelves, in the stands fanning out from the reception desk, their colored spines outward and showing the tomes to be shiny and modern or worn and ancient. Uma hadn’t known there was this many books in the whole world.

She was rapidly beginning to hate the sight of the library.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep Mira’s gentle smile on her face; a scowl was itching to manifest. Above all, she yearned to throw the books she carried into Mal’s face. She did not sign up to be that fairy’s errand girl.

For days, Uma had gone to and fro between the gray castle they lived in and Castle Beast, fetching whatever books Mal requested. Uma would get the books – some of which were obviously useful for plotting, being about magic or the geography of Auradon, while others had titles like “The Big Book of Hormones” and “The Last Marigold: a heart-stopping tale of love and tragedy” and seemed to be randomly chosen to keep Uma occupied. When Uma brought the books Mal would acknowledge her with a grunt, barely looking up from her desk where she pored over hundreds of pages. It was for the best, really. If Mal had smirked at Uma’s subservience, she might not have been able to stop herself from doing some unMira-like things.

She slowly blew out through her nose and looked at the latest list of titles Mal had written down for her. Luckily, there was a computer at the reception desk which catalogued every book or she’d be lost in here forever.

Finding three of the books, there was only one more to get but of course, the book she was looking for was on a bottom row and she ended up crouched down, head nearly parallel to the floor, neck aching, as she tried to find the damn thing…

“Need help?”

Startled, her hand shot to her side to grasp a sword that wasn’t there. Hoping he hadn’t seen it, she obscured the movement as best as she could and hopped to a stand.

“Sorry,” King Ben said with a self-depreciating smile, “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Noah, the guard who always accompanied Uma to the library, stood a distance behind the king so he wasn’t hovering but was within line of sight. Uma doubted she could spell the king here.

She put a hand to her chest and half-laughed. “Oh no, it’s not your fault. I wasn’t paying attention – usually I’m alone here.”

“Yeah. We had to close it to the public when the war began. And there’s no time for reading for pleasure these days so no one in the castle comes here anymore. Even my mom…” he trailed off, too pained to say more.

Uma gave him a sympathetic look. “It must be difficult for her, for all of you, for everything to have changed. Lots has changed for me too now but that’s different. You love your home.”

She bent and looked for the book again, not wanting to seem too interested in him. After a moment, he bent down as well.

“What are we looking for?” he asked.

“Something called ‘The Vacationer’s Guide to Adventures in Agrabah’.”

“Ah,” he said, and pulled out a magazine wedged between two blockish books.

She groaned and took it from him. “I assumed it’d be huge, like these,” and she gestured at her stack of books waiting on the floor. King Ben eyed the title on the top. “They’re about Agrabah. Mal wanted these? What for?”

“I don’t know. But I wouldn’t read too much into it. Yesterday she also wanted ‘Cheeseburger Charm: the New Cinderellasburg Diet’. Though that one might’ve been for Evie.”

King Ben frowned. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at Uma more closely. “I hope you won’t be offended,” he said gently, “but you really aren’t anything like your friends.”

“You’re not the first to say that,” Uma chuckled.

“But how? How did you and Mal become close?”

“Mal’s not as terrible as everyone thinks. I’m not saying it’s all an act, but being the daughter of Maleficent…she has to be a certain way, you know? But that doesn’t mean she wants to be like her mother,” she hesitated, and looked at the king as if deciding whether to trust him, “That’s why Mal keeps me around. She needs me to be the angel on her shoulder, the one friend who will stop her from going too far. She’s afraid of what she’d do if left on her own.”

King Ben absorbed this with some surprise. “I’m glad she has you. I’d hoped she was different from her mother and now I know I was right.”

“But you can’t tell anyone else this,” Uma said hurriedly, “Please, she’d hate people to know…”

“Don’t worry. This will stay between us, I promise. But…maybe you can help me? I need to understand what Mal’s doing right now, what she’s planning.”

Uma bit her lip. “I know she’s working very hard…”

King Ben stepped closer and blocked her from Noah’s sight. It felt like the chain around Uma’s neck grew heavier, the locket warming against her chest and begging to be used. She broke out in a sweat. Was the time to strike now? Was this the best chance she’d receive? She’d only have to reach up, unlatch her locket and expose her gold seashell…

“I’ll give her as much time as I can,” the king said, oblivious to her racing thoughts, “But I can’t hold the council or MAAM back forever. Most of them think she’s stalling, waiting for a chance to escape and join her mother.”

“You know that’s not true,” Uma said vaguely, judging the distance between them and Noah. How sharp were the guard’s eyes?

He sighed. “Is there anything you can tell me?”

Uma raised a hand and fiddled with her locket. “I don’t know exactly how Mal is going to defeat the villains,” she told him, which was true, “but I have no doubt she has a plan she believes in. I think right now she’s just…tweaking it.”

His brows pinched in worry.

Uma forced her hand down. This wasn’t the time, it was too risky with Noah here. There would be a better opportunity. “Listen. I’ll find out what I can. See what Mal’s doing with all these books and what her first step is,” her tone turned playful, “I wouldn’t want you to run us out with pitchforks and torches because of Mal’s poor communication skills.”

The king chuckled. “I save the pitchforks for my advisors when they annoy me,” he looked at her seriously, “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

He helped Uma with her books, piling them into her arms, and walked her out of the library. The two said their warm goodbyes and Uma went back to the VKs, Noah tailing her, with a much more genuine smile on her lips than when she left them.

When Uma arrived Dizzy was leaning in the doorway of the room they shared, chatting with Aziz and Lonnie. Well, more like nagging them.

“Ask anyone!” she insisted, “Khaki is out. Sure, it used to make people look tough in a wild-man sort of way, but now anyone on the Isle wearing it would just be laughed at and beaten up.”

Aziz was smiling, amused, but Lonnie glowered. “We don’t wear our uniforms for a fashion statement. They preserve our lives. And signify that we are in an honorable service.”

“A new pattern would make you look super honorable,” Dizzy said, clasping her hands with excitement, “Picture this: a bronze hexagonal pattern for the main material, textured, of course, a one shoulder scarlet cloak with gold braid, scarlet arm and shin guards – I could work up a sketch if you like.”

“A cloak does sound cool,” Aziz said to Lonnie and then laughed at her don’t-you-start expression.

“Excuse me,” Uma murmured to the guards as she squeezed past them. “Noah, could you please open the door for me? Thank you.”

Noah stayed outside and shut the door behind her. Uma added her load to one of the stacks of books that were growing around Mal’s desk and threatening to wall her up alive.

On her bed and in a fluffy pink bathrobe, Evie was lying on her belly and flicking through a magazine.

“What are those?” Uma said, pointing at the feet Evie was softly paddling in the air.

Evie glanced back and raised a brow at Uma. “They’re toe separators.”

Uma stared.

“They’re for pedicures,” Evie sniggered, “You know what a pedicure is right? Are you sure you’re a girl? Even Mal’s had them.”

“You forced me,” Mal muttered without looking up from her desk.

“And you’re welcome,” Evie said and went back to her magazine.

Uma navigated her way carefully through the pillars of books and sat on the edge of Mal’s desk. The fairy’s head didn’t move and Uma couldn’t see her face through the curtain of purple hair.

“King Ben wants to know if you’re really looking for something. And so do I,” Uma murmured softly.

Mal’s shoulders stiffened slightly. “You spoke to him?”

“Yes. In the library.”

“He’s Queen Belle’s son after all.”

“He needs to believe you’re not wasting time while Maleficent is trashing his kingdom, and he needs a bit of reassurance that you do have a plan. As someone who has your trust, he asked me to help him.”

Mal turned a page, her voice careful. “I’m afraid I can’t wipe away those fears. Not yet. If the king wants to be reassured, he’ll have to speak to you.”

“No problem. Can I stop my trips to the library now?” Uma asked with a touch of her real voice, deeper and richer.

“Yes,” Mal said, closing her book and leaning back with a stretch in her chair. She gave Uma a lazy smile. “We have what we needed.”

Uma inclined her head, agreeing they were one step closer to their goal. She gestured to the books around her. “Are any of these actually of use to us?”

“I didn’t have high expectations,” Mal admitted, “But a few are proving instructive. If nothing else, they’re giving me ideas…helping me get my thoughts in order…” she tapped the book in front of her. Uma saw it was yet another one about Agrabah. “and I think I’ve made up my mind where we should begin.”

333333333333333333

“Come on, Noah,” Dizzy tempted, “Wouldn’t you like a new uniform? One that actually fits you?”

Affronted, the bulky guard looked down at himself. “This fits me! There ain’t a thing wrong with it.”

She snorted softly. “Where should I begin? The fibre quality is good, I’ll give you that, but you should’ve been given one size bigger so that repeated washes wouldn’t have shrunk it beyond comfortable use. And even with a larger size the seam under your armpits would still be too tight for someone of your body type.”

He rolled his shoulders with a grimace. “It does pinch.”

“Don’t encourage her or she’ll never shut up,” Lonnie said and dragged him away from her. She turned to her friends. “Who’s turn is it for a break?”

“Mine,” Noah said quickly.

“What?” Aziz frowned, “I’ve been standing here for hours.”

“I’ve been bounced back and forth to Castle Beast for days, guarding that nice girl and doing nothing. At least here there was a chance one of the villain kids would try something, Aziz.”

“But they haven’t,” Aziz said regretfully, “and I want to put my feet up for an hour.”

“I do too,” Noah growled.

“I could draw some sketches for you if you’re having trouble picturing the design,” Dizzy said to them brightly. No one looked at her.

“You both sound like children,” Lonnie scolded Aziz and Noah. Distantly, she heard Dizzy’s door close. “You’re the royal guard, for heaven’s sake. Act like it.”

Noah crossed his arms. “We’ll call Chad in and he can relieve both of us.”

“Lonnie deserves a break more than either of us,” Aziz said.

“Then why did you say you should be the one to go?” Noah asked.

Aziz’s answering grin was designed to infuriate. “I didn’t say that. Just that I deserved it more than you.”

Noah raised his hands and squeezed empty air, showing what he’d like to do to Aziz’s neck.

She put her hands on her hips and glared at the guys. “I’m ordering both of you to go so I don’t have to listen to this nonsense. You’re lucky I’m not my mother, she’d have you carrying sandbags up a mountain.”

The villain kid called Gil suddenly stepped out of his room. He walked past them with an embarrassed smile. “Ah, hi, I’m just going to see Um-” his expression went slack, “Uuuooh my devil, I can’t wait to see Mira.” He gave an even wider grin, “She’s been way too busy, and I bet she’d want to hear about the dream I had last night. It was wicked cool.”

He knocked on her door. “Mira?”

“She’s in Mal’s – “ Noah started to say but Gil was already going in.

“Mira? Dizzy? Are you guys in the bathroom? Is this one of those female things?” Gil called nervously, “I could come back later.”

Stomach twisting, Lonnie strode into the bedroom. Dizzy wasn’t there. She yanked open the bathroom. Empty.

“What’s wrong?” Gil asked when he saw her bloodless face. She ignored him and left, slamming the door with him still inside.

“Hey!” came his muffled yelp.

She dug out a ring of keys from her pocket and once she locked the door, she threw the keys to Aziz and pointed at the VKs rooms.

“Lock them all in,” she snarled, “then let’s spread out and find that girl!”

33333333333333333333333

Dizzy didn’t have a destination in mind as she strolled around the castle. The objective was to explore as much as she could until bored or caught. It was only fair. Evie and the rest got to have a look when they arrived. Dizzy had been stuck in a suitcase and the only thing she knew about Auradon was their excellent bedroom décor. If Mal had had her way, that’s all Dizzy would’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” she kept saying each time she spotted a new intrigue. “Wow.”

There was a full suit of armor in one hallway, standing proud despite the dust on his silver plating, gripping a lance tied with green and gold ribbons. She stood on tip toes and tried to lift his visor but it wouldn’t budge.

“Poor guy,” she clicked her tongue, “You’re really stuck in there. But at least you look splendid.”

At every window she came across Dizzy peered at the green bloom of the gardens and forest and the winding paths running through them. She was disappointed at not spotting any real-life Auradonians walking by; the only people she could observe were in the oil paintings on the walls.

She met a fierce tribal king, his only crown the beads and feathers in his long hair, leading his people to freedom, their mostly naked bodies coated in bright, rebellious stripes of color. In other paintings, a warrior wielding twin swords fought a strange, skinny dragon with antlers on its head for the fiery pearl clutched in its claws; a huntress wearing leathers and furs followed tracks with a gentle doe by her side, unaware of the chimera crouched on the cliff above her; and a dirty child in rags clutched his belly and laughed at the witch hanging in a net far off the ground, the crone shaking her fist in impotent rage.

Most of all, Dizzy loved the women who were grand as empresses: cheeks powdered into a pink blush, ears and necks dripping with jewels, rings like stars on their fingers and their hair sculptured into glorious, glossy displays. And unlike in her granny’s old posters they looked elegant even in ungainly hoop skirts, long trains or elaborate headwear.

She sighed over a queenly woman in a striking blue velvet dress, memorising it. Maybe Evie could wear something like that. She turned to move on. In the corner of her eye, the blue dress quivered. Dizzy blinked and resettled her glasses. She stared at the strokes of paint and the blue dress trembled again.

“What the…” Dizzy said.

The dress stretched until it was no longer a dress, it was a growing puddle of blue that wiped out the woman, then the bench she’d been sitting on and then the garden she’d been in until the entire canvas was blue. Dizzy, eyes as big and round as her glasses, slowly stepped back until she hit the opposite wall.

Something surged out of the painting with a plop and Dizzy screamed. She slapped her hand to her mouth. It was a sandaled foot. A blue foot. It was followed by a leg covered in red material and the foot touched the floor. A blue skinned man ducked out of the frame and swung his other leg out and then he was free of the canvas.

“Boy, was it stuffy in there,” he confided to Dizzy and threw his thumb over his shoulder at the restored portrait of the woman, “The lady’s sort of a snob as well, she had a gripe about me being shirtless. The best cultures find it perfectly acceptable, I said to her.”

Dizzy was glad she had the wall to support her. “You’re a genie!” she gasped out.

He rubbed his chin. “I am a genie, the genie and also called Genie. It’s very convenient isn’t it?”

“You almost gave me a heart attack!”

He raised his hands and yellow lines of crackling electricity zipped between his fingers. “Don’t worry. A few jolts and you’d be back with us in no time. How are you feeling now? Want a few zaps, just to be sure?”

Dizzy stared at his hands.

Genie laughed. “Relax kid. Don’t take things so seriously.”

She gulped and stood up straight. Never had she seen magic like this before. She’d never seen any magic before, actually, but this…she knew this was an incredible demonstration of power. When she was sure he wasn’t about to do anything else weird, her shoulders slumped.

“All right,” she sighed, “You got me. Take me back.”

He looked at her curiously. “Take you where?”

“To my room,” she said glumly, “Or a dungeon.”

“Why would I do that?”

She was confused. “That’s why you’re here right? To spy on one of the VKs. To punish me for sneaking away.”

“I don’t give three figs about the VKs,” Genie said, waving his hand dismissively. “Jafar’s kid has done nothing but laze about. Thoroughly disappointing. And anyway, you shouldn’t just assume I’m here for you, kid. I have a life, thank you. And if you must know I was on a date.”

Dizzy glanced at him, the painting and then back at him. It occurred to her that the genie was a bit daft. “I’m sorry,” she said cautiously, “I didn’t mean to be rude. But with the war going on and all, I thought you’d…”

Genie rolled his eyes hard. “Ugh, don’t start banging on about the war. Please. I can’t stand it. It makes my brain rot. Wanna see?”

He grasped his head and she imagined him raising the top of his skull and bending over to show her a mass of pink tissue, jiggling like jello. “No!” she squeaked, “No, I’m good, I’m good.”

Genie shrugged. He took a step closer to her and crossed his arms. “So. You sneaked away huh? What for?”

Dizzy looked down. “Only to look around. I don’t like being stuck in the one place, not when there’s so much to explore.”

“I can understand that,” Genie nodded slowly, “But this moldy gallery won’t make an appearance in any adventure novels, I can promise you. No fun at all.”

She grinned. “I’ve been having heaps of fun. I’m a designer, and all this stuff has been giving me a bunch of ideas. One day I’m going to create pieces for thousands of Auradonians, no matter what people say, and if I’m going to do that I have to get inspired.”

Genie smiled. “You remind me of my daughter. Well, here. A small contribution to the cause.”

A wave of his hand and something was suddenly in her arms. She lifted up the bolt of blue velvet higher, giddily inspecting the fabric. It was gorgeous and soft as kitten fur. She lifted her head, a cry of gratitude on her lips, but Genie was gone. She looked into the painting again but as far as she could tell he wasn’t in it.

Unable to wait, she skipped toward her room cradling her prize, mentally designing dresses and hungry to put them down on paper. She was back in the VK’s hallway before she knew it.

“There you are,” growled a stranger’s voice.

Dizzy looked up. A young man wearing the royal guard’s uniform leaned against her door, waiting for her. He had a scar going down his cheek, marring his otherwise beautiful face. He gazed at her unblinkingly. The other guards weren’t here.

“Oh,” she said, “I was missed then. Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“You think I’m stupid enough to believe that?” the guard asked. “Cocky bitch, aren’t you.”

It was said with a calm that didn’t match the words or the iron in his expression. She knew when someone meant her ill. Her gaze darted to Mal’s and Evie’s room.

An ugly smile grew on the guard’s face. He jangled the keys in front of her. “They can’t save you. They sent you on your secret little mission and are happy to let you deal with the consequences.”

“That’s not true,” she protested.

Quicker than she could track, he was right in front of her. He grabbed her arm roughly and she dropped the bolt of fabric. She was acutely aware then of how much taller and stronger than her he was.

“Don’t argue with me,” he hissed into her face, “I’m a prince and member of the royal guard. You’re scum. Isle scum. Say it.”

She bit her lip.

“Say it.”

“I’m Isle scum,” Dizzy whispered.

“Remember that. I could beat you black and blue and when they’d ask ‘Chad, what happened?’ I’d say, ‘She lost her temper and attacked me, I had no choice’. And they’d believe me. So keep in line or I’ll make you regret it,” he punctuated his words by twisting her arm and she cried out at the hot shooting pain.

Crack-bang! They jumped at the great splintering sound and her arm was released.

Gil stumbled to a stop, regaining his footing after ramming Dizzy’s door open. He drew up to his full height and stared straight at Chad. For the first time, Dizzy saw Gil as a true pirate.

“Dizzy,” he said, not taking his eyes off Chad, “Come ‘ere.”

Not needing to be told twice, she scooped up the velvet and skirted around the guard to Gil’s side.

Chad put his hand on his sword and sneered. “I don’t like the way you’re looking at me.”

“Unsheathe that sword and I’ll break it,” Gil growled low as thunder.

“He can do it,” Dizzy added, “He’s Gaston’s son. He’s the strongest on the Isle.”

Chad seemed to be weighing his options, loathe to back down. His grip tightened on his sword’s pommel and Dizzy felt every muscle in Gil tense.

“What’s going on here?” Lonnie asked behind them.

Gil relaxed so Dizzy did too. Lonnie frowned at all of them, sensing undercurrents she didn’t like.

“Arrest her Captain!” Chad shoved a finger at Dizzy, “She’s a spy!”

“I am not,” Dizzy turned to Lonnie, “I was wandering around, that’s all. Genie knows I wasn’t spying.”

“Genie?” Lonnie exclaimed.

Dizzy held out the bolt of fabric. “He gave me this when I was looking at the art. Ask him.”

Gil bent down, brushed aside shards of wood and picked up part of the lock that had been ripped out of the doorframe. He dusted it off and handed it over to Lonnie with a mumbled apology. Chad’s glare followed the two as Gil nudged Dizzy into her room. The door wouldn’t close properly now. Gil pushed a chair against it.

Gil massaged his right shoulder. “Dammit, I’m gonna bruise. The door was thicker than I thought.”

Dizzy hugged the roll of velvet to her and gazed at him, hardly knowing what to feel. “Thanks Gil.”

“I’m not complaining or nothing,” he assured her, “When I heard what that bastard was saying to you…”

She found it hard to not cry then. “The people in Auradon are supposed to be nice. Why was he like that?”

“Because he’s a thug. Trust me, I know the type,” he grinned and flexed his arm, kissing his bulging muscle.

She giggled. He inched closer and looked in wonder at the velvet in her arms. “Did the genie really give you that?”

Dizzy nodded proudly.

“Reckon it’s magic?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe if I made a carpet out of it…but I’m going to create a dress for Evie. Want to help?”

“Me?” Gil asked, surprised. He didn’t appear dangerous at all now, he was once more the simple, silly Gil she knew. “I don’t know anything about clothes, I’ll muck it up.”

She took his hand and pulled him over to the desk. “Rubbish. You can be my first fashion critic. You’ll go down in history as the witness to Dizzy Tremaine’s Auradon debut!”

Chapter Text

Mal laid on her bed, arms folded on her stomach and glowered at the ceiling. On either side of her were heavy books. One was about Arabah, the other had an elaborately carved leather cover and was titled, “Goodly Practices and Insights into the Nature of Light Magic”, written by Ozymandius Olen, whoever the fuck that was. In the end, these were the only books Uma had brought that Mal cared about.

Water trickled down the bedroom windows outside. It disgusted Mal that even the rain in Auradon looked pure and clean and the thunder was polite and didn’t rumble too loudly. The Isle could conjure a thunderstorm that people felt down to the marrow of their bones. The power of that crashing thunder and lightning used to make Mal shudder pleasantly. Here, the wet weather only deepened her foul mood.

She reached out a hand to grab the book on magic but then dropped it. She’d gone over the book enough times. She knew what was written there.

Mal groaned, turned over on her side and buried her face into the pillows. Come on. She could do this. She was the smartest person she knew.

Those damn magical barriers. They consumed her mind. How was she supposed to take Fairy Godmother’s Wand into enemy regions without detection?

“If it were dark magic, there’d be no problem…” Mal muttered into the pillow. The barriers didn’t care about the presence of dark magic.

She couldn’t win against the wardens without the Wand. As the Blue Fairy had so kindly reminded her, Mal had never done magic in her life. If she didn’t have a supremely powerful instrument like the Wand or Maleficent’s Sceptor, she and her friends were toast.

“Mal?”

She peeled her face away from the pillow and saw Dizzy hovering anxiously near the foot of the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why aren’t you playing dress up with Evie in your room?” Mal asked, ignoring her question.

Dizzy went to Evie’s side of the room and picked up a folder on the bedside table. “Evie left her inspiration folder here. And we’re not playing, we’re designing.”

Mal looked back up at the ceiling. “What carefree lives you and Evie are living. Y’know, after the stunt you pulled, it’s miraculous they didn’t put you in a cell.”

“Evie already lectured me about it,” Dizzy assured her.

Mal closed her eyes. “Are you still here?”

A hesitation, and Mal could easily imagine the girl fiddling with her glasses. “I am sorry about the trouble I caused the other day,” Dizzy murmured, “And…and I’m sorry about what I said. Before. About…about you being a half-breed. I was scared you were going to send me back.”

Mal sighed deep and long. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“So good,” she cast a glance at Dizzy, “when you’ve always been around bad. I’ve never had an apology before. It doesn’t count when you beat it out of people or they’re pissing themselves with fear. You’re saying sorry because you feel guilty. I don’t understand why you are the way you are.”

The normal response at an accusation of goodness would’ve been for Dizzy to put up her fists and aggressively defend her dishonor. But Dizzy just blinked and looked down at her feet. Her brow furrowed. “I don’t think of myself as good. I’m just…”

“You’re just yourself,” Mal said with a certain bitterness, “Yeah.”

She sat up and slammed Ozymandius Olen’s book in front of her. “Get out. I have work to do.”

But Dizzy only moved a few steps toward the door before she turned to Mal again. “If I’d had Maleficent for a mother, I don’t think I could’ve stayed me. Not even a bit.”

Mal raised her head and looked the girl in the eye. Dizzy gazed back with respect.

Lips curling, but with no venom, Mal said, “For future reference, if you want to insult me, ‘half-breed’ is the wrong word to use. There are no half fairies. You either are one or you’re not. Look at Fairy Godmother’s daughter, if you run across her. Not a drop of fey blood made it through.”

“Huh. Okay. But I think I’ll leave the insults to Evie,” Dizzy smiled, “She knows how to get away with them.”

With a happy twirl of her skirt, Dizzy left. Mal stared at the spot where she’d been and thought about her mother.

Maleficent’s approach to parenting alternated between ignoring her offspring or giving out lessons, and Mal couldn’t say which she’d preferred. Both were painful. There had been one lesson that was remarkable in how uneventful it was – no ranting, yelling or cutting remarks about what a disappointment Mal was. She’d almost forgotten what the lesson had been about, habit would have her obsessing on the spark of affection she could’ve sworn she saw in her mother at the end.

Twisted horns raised proudly, Mother sits in her makeshift throne with sceptor in hand as if all her subjects are kneeling before her, instead of just one little girl sitting at her feet. Mal is maybe eight or nine years old. She sits close enough to brush the hem of Mother’s black dress, which spills onto the floor like ink. Her round face is always fixed to her mother’s, but the woman rarely looks down at her in these moments.

Mother is explaining light fairies.

“They are smug, silly idiots,” she says bluntly, “who need to group together to come up with an original idea. They always think they know what’s right. So when a pauper pleas for help, or a kingdom wants an answer or a prince needs a clue, light fairies simply can’t stop themselves.”

Mal gags, showing her disgust at the thought of such behavior. “Lucky I was born dark.”

Mother’s gaze snaps to Mal. “There was never a question of that.”

Tensing, uncertain why her mother was irritated, Mal tries to clarify. “I mean, lucky that I’m like you and I’m not in Auradon or otherwise I might’ve been…”

“Stupid girl,” Mother laughs, cold and high. “Circumstances can’t change us from dark to light. We can’t shed our skin and grow a new one, and neither can they.”

“But we’re all fairies.”

“We are not the same,” Mother says firmly.

Mal bites her lip. “I don’t understand Mother,” she has to admit.

Maleficent slowly digs her scepter into the floor, a sign that she is considering something carefully. Usually she is an impatient teacher, intolerant of questions and eager to be elsewhere. And if her child is too slow picking up the pearls of wisdom chucked her way then that’s Mal’s failing. But this time Mother seems to believe this lesson needs to be learned absolutely.

“Dark fairies and light fairies are part of the same tree,” Maleficent says slowly, “Our magic, our life comes from the one source and we are bound together in that way. But in all else we are separate. We are the strong roots thriving in the cold, dark earth and they are the delicate leaves basking in the sunlight and open air. Our purpose and needs are different. Our directions are opposite. And we can no more understand each other than a root can pull itself from the ground and touch the leaves of spring.”

She looks at her daughter. “Do you understand?”

Mal thinks she might. “Apart but connected?”

“Yes, little imp,” Mother’s thin red lips split into her version of a smile, “Very much apart, and wretchedly connected.”

There was a knock at the door. Odd. The guards made a point of just strolling in or pushing any of the VKs into the room. She had just got off the bed when the door opened and King Ben’s head popped in.

“Hi Mal,” the king smiled with a touch of nervousness, “I’m sorry to disturb. May I come in?”

“It’s your castle,” Mal raised a brow.

He stepped in and Lonnie was hot on his heels. Ben glanced at his guard like he didn’t want Lonnie with him but said nothing. Lonnie stood at the door, stare fixed on Mal. Ben clasped his hands and opened his mouth. Mal waited.

“So,” he said, “I see you’ve been doing a lot of reading.”

Mal nodded at the stacks of books filling the room. “Yeah.”

“Well two pairs of eyes are better than one. Maybe if I help you can finish faster.”

“I am finished.”

“Oh?” he stepped closer, “And what did you find?”

She shrugged. “Bit of this. Bit of that.”

 “Well, now that you know how the war’s going and you’ve done your own research…I should hear what the plan is, don’t you think?”

“You mean the plan to fix all your problems and make Auradon perfect again? That plan?” Mal smirked.

King Ben looked at her carefully, all trace of smile gone. “More or less. It is what you promised to do.”

Mal reached out her arm and swung around her bedpost, turning away. “Lucifer. If someone had told me when I was a kid that I’d one day be Auradon’s saviour I would’ve turned that person over to my mother for creative punishment.”

She ignored his presence, looking outside at the rain and the restless trees in the wind. She could feel his eyes on her back.

“These are strange times. Neither of us are where we thought we would be,” the king said.

“True,” Mal said airily over her shoulder, “I was supposed to be trapped on the Isle forever. And you were supposed to be prevailing against the wicked, not fighting with them.”

There was a heavy pause. “Are you trying to hurt me by pointing out my shortcomings or are you protesting how you’ve been treated?” His voice was even, without a hint of anger.

Hands behind her back, she leaned against the bedpost and faced him. “I’m just pointing out that, against my better instincts, here I am working hard to help my ex-warden. And here you are, suspicious and demanding. I guess some people find it harder to break their prejudices than others.”

Emotions flew across the king’s face, his hazel eyes reflecting them clearly. He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “I want to know the plan – that’s not unreasonable!”

“Oh? You mean you’re not barking at me because MAAM has been pressuring you for progress nearly every day?”

His expression closed off. “How do you know that?”

Mal grinned and scrunched her nose. “A fool’s guess. And a correct one, apparently. Tell those stuck-up fairies that I don’t answer to them.”

“But you do answer to me,” he countered as Mal turned away again, “And I need to know – “

Mal cried out and clutched her head. “Hell! Just go away. I’ve barely slept for a week and have a monster of a headache because I’ve been busy sorting out your war, and I don’t feel like dealing with you right now.”

“Mal,” the king said desperately.

“Get out!” Mal screamed at him.

He grimaced. Reluctantly, he walked to the door and Lonnie practically slammed it closed behind them.

Mal exhaled. Good. He’d run to Uma for help on how to manage difficult, unknowable Mal. She hadn’t been totally fake – she was exhausted. And sick of the situation.

She wanted to begin the real work.

Chapter Text

“What are the three rules of fashion?”

Gil’s answer was prompt. “Number one: dress for your body type.”

Dizzy nodded seriously. She finished hand sewing a sleeve together and draped it over one of Gil’s outstretched arms which were already laden with other pieces of the outfit being made. Gil sat cross-legged on the floor and Dizzy sat in front of him, surrounded by a circle of fabric and tools.

“Second?” she prompted.

His brow furrowed in thought. “Don’t match patterns with patterns.”

“Yeah, but keep in mind that’s the one rule that can broken. Sometimes. If you know what you’re doing.”

“Right.”

“And the last rule?” she asked around the pins she held in her mouth.

A perfectly blank expression was on Gil’s face. “Uhhh…”

She stuck the pins into a hem line and smiled encouragement. “Only colors that flatter your skin tone.”

Gil tried to look at the skin tone on his arm but he was almost entirely covered in material. “What’s my skin tone?”

Dizzy peered at him. “You’re a warm ivory I’d say.”

“Cool,” Gil grinned, “What are my colors?”

“Is this really happening right now?” Uma muttered where she was lying on her bed.

Dizzy ignored her. “Your go-to colors ar yellow, orange, red and warmer greens and blues. Stay away from icy shades and jeweled tones like amethyst.”

“A pirate dressed in amethyst,” Uma said, massaging her temple with her fingers. “Yeah, even Gil’s not dumb enough to do that.”

Gil drooped a little.

“Hey Mira,” Dizzy shot a dazzling smile, “Why don’t you help us make this thing? Since you’re so kind and all.”

Uma’s lips thinned and she turned her head away.

“It’s kinda fun,” Gil offered tentatively, “You’re bored anyway. I bet we can’t find any color that doesn’t suit you…”

Uma couldn’t think of a response that was scathing and in-character.

“Maybe go hang out in Hook’s room if you don’t like what we’re doing,” Dizzy suggested.

“No no,” Gil said, “She doesn’t wanna do that. There are…bugs in that room. Big, pretty, Auradon bugs. And they whistle. In tune.”

Uma swung her feet off the bed and stood up. “I think I want to see these whistling bugs.”

Gil tried to stand but stepped on a length of fabric he was holding and tripped. Dizzy squealed in horror and begged him to be still. Gil was flipping between apologising to the bespectacled girl and whining at Uma not to go.

“You stay here Gil since you’re so comfortable,” Uma half-sneered, “I’m sure Hook and I can think of something fun to do without you.”

She whipped open the door and nearly walked straight into King Ben. He lowered the hand he’d raised to knock and she quickly erased all irritation from her face, shoving the Mira mask back on.

“Hi,” she said, a little breathlessly, “I mean, good morning, your majesty.”

“Good morning Mira,” he said, and looked beyond her shoulder at a pouting Gil and a distressed Dizzy. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

“It’s a perfect time,” Uma smiled. “I uh…could use a bit of fresh air though.”

“Would you care to join me for a walk around the grounds?” he asked. Uma could’ve laughed at his gentlemanly behaviour – if this were the Isle, the guy would’ve grunted, “Come on,” and grabbed the girl and dragged her as far as he could before she managed to escape.

“Why not?” she said.

She fell in step with King Ben as he led them down the hall. She sneaked a glance behind them. Aziz was following, watchful but relaxed.

“How have you been?” she asked the king and then ducked her head in embarrassment, “Sorry. Stupid question.”

He shook his head. “It’s not stupid. I’ve been…busy.”

His gaze darted to her then away into the distance. “Mal’s driving me mad.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised to hear it,” she sighed.

“The council is beside themselves. They’re accusing you guys of everything from planning a coup to playing a massive joke on us while you get free food.”

“Huh,” Uma said, hurt in her voice, “I guess it’s impossible to believe Islefolk have any self-respect.”

The king stopped and put his hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean…I know you’re not…”

“It’s okay,” she said, “I know we haven’t proven ourselves yet.”

“Mira,” King Ben searched her face, “If you know anything about Mal’s plan, please tell me.”

She worried her lip. “I trust Mal. She’s got a great plan, I know she does.”

When she wouldn’t say anything else the king’s face fell. He opened a glass door and they stepped onto a concrete terrace. Beyond the railing the grounds were miserably wet from the recent rain. They slowly went past rows of blue lockers, the mood as damp as the weather.

“Did you go to school here?” she asked.

“I did,” he said and nothing more.

“Please don’t be mad at me. I want to help you I just....”

“I know. And I’m not mad,” he sighed, “The school was great. Wonderful. And I hate that it didn’t last.”

“You’ll get to reopen it someday,” she comforted.

He stopped at the top of the stairs leading down to the lawn. Uma stood next to him, watching him look over the picnic tables and overgrown gardens.

“It’s still strange to see this place empty,” he murmured. “You think I’d be used to it by now.”

She looked as well and opened her mouth, ready to offer kind thoughts, when she noticed how slick with rainwater the stairs were. Inspiration hit Uma – a real lightbulb moment.  

“Your majesty please don’t – “

She grabbed the king’s arm and turned him around to face her. He looked at her questioningly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she winced, “For a moment I thought you were crying. Gods, I’m useless today.”

He actually laughed. “Don’t worry about it – “

“No, I should head back – “ Uma said, still cringing, and took a deliberate step backward.

King Ben reached out, but her reflexes were better and she “flailed” her arms around and he couldn’t catch her. She saw his eyes widen in horror. A dispassionate part of Uma acknowledged how much this was going to hurt.

Her breath was knocked out of her from the first impact and pain blossomed on her back as she rolled down the stairs. The soundtrack to her fall was a pleasant silvery jingle, her bangles as melodious as always, and she found she hated that most of all. Then it was over, and she was splayed out on solid ground.

“Mira!” the king yelled.

She didn’t have to fake a groan.

King Ben and Aziz crouched over her and touched her hesitantly. She accepted Aziz’s hand and he helped her sit up.

“Are you okay?” Aziz asked.

“I…I think so,” she said as if in a daze while examining her scrapes and bruises. Her dress had ridden up and she tugged it back down.

“We’ll take you to the infirmary at Castle Beast,” the king said.

The young men supported her on either side as she got up. She shrieked in pain and slumped back to the footpath, dragging the king down with her.

“I can’t,” she blubbered, “It hurts.”

“What hurts?” he urged.

She shook her head and simply cried, not letting go of him.

“Aziz, go and get help,” the king ordered, gently rubbing Uma’s back.

The guard sprung to action, already three steps up the stairs before he stilled and looked back at the king, doubtful. “My king I shouldn’t leave – “

“Go!”

Aziz couldn’t disobey. He ran.

“Is there anything I can do?” the king asked her.

“Look at me.”

He moved a few of her braids to see her face better. “What is it?”

She lifted her head, met his gaze and reached for her necklace. Popping the locket open, she exposed the golden seashell.

A single note, beautiful and deep as if rung from a cathedral bell, poured out of Uma’s open mouth effortlessly. The rest of the world fell away. Then the note changed; it became inhuman and full of secrets, speaking of the crushing darkness in the deepest parts of the ocean, of inescapable cold and hidden creatures who knew only hunger. It was a haunting sound as terrible as it was enthralling.

The king didn’t move a muscle, struck dumb by the melody. The shell was glowing like a hot coal within Uma’s hand. A ribbon of golden mist swirled out of it, snaking through the air before it was absorbed into King Ben’s dulled eyes.

The gold shell faded, and Uma’s song ceased, cut off without a flourish. She clamped her mouth shut. The king blinked.

She hurriedly closed her locket. The two stared at each other, Uma waiting for his reaction and King Ben looking at a loss what to do.  

Then he smiled. He smiled like a giddy boy, like someone who’d received a life-changing revelation.

“Mira,” he breathed. Picking up her hand, he kissed it reverently and looked at her in wonder. “Has the pain lessened? Please say it has, I can’t bear seeing you hurt.”

“Actually,” she grinned and got to her feet, “I can’t remember ever feeling better.”

“Good,” He kissed her hand again before letting it go. “Mira – has anyone told you what a beautiful name that is – I have to tell you, ever since we met I sensed an amazing connection between us. And just now I decided: I love you. I love you Mira.”

Uma reached up toward the sky and stretched, her back aching. “You don’t say.”

“Do you love me?”

She smirked at him, enjoying being able to show her true face after so long. “Sure.”

Beaming, he cupped her jaw and moved to kiss her. She sputtered and slapped his hands away.

“Okay lover-boy,” she frowned at him, “We need to get a few things straight before Aziz comes back.”

“Aziz!” the king gasped, “I can’t wait to tell him! I want to tell the whole world how I feel about you.” And he looked around to find the nearest person.

She grasped his shoulders and pinned him with her stare. “That’s the thing: you can’t. Only the VKs can know about us. We can’t give anyone else the slightest hint.”

“Why not?” he demanded, obviously offended by the idea of not flaunting their love.

“Your people won’t understand,” she cooed, “You’re their king and I’m just Isle trash to them.”

He drew himself up. “I don’t care what they think. I love you.”

“They’ll jump to conclusions and say I’m a witch. That you’re under my evil spell and your feelings aren’t real. To protect you, I’ll be thrown back to the Isle. They’ll separate us for good – you don’t want that, do you?”

“No,” he trembled, “No. I won’t let that happen.”

“Neither will I. So, you have to promise me that you’ll act normal in front of others and not let anyone learn the truth.”

“I have to lie about us forever?” he sounded very unhappy about it.

She hesitated. “Until the war is over and everyone knows me better. Can you do this for me?”

He caressed her cheek adoringly. “I’d do anything for you.”

They both heard running feet and Uma extracted herself from him. King Ben straightened his jacket, his face pinched. Uma knew the reputation of her shell’s formidable magic; it must take a lot of effort for her victim to suppress the powerful feelings raging in him, but he would do it for her sake. Aziz and two panting nurses clutching first aid kits came down the steps and then stopped short at the sight of a miraculously standing Uma.

Uma gave them her best grimace. “It still hurts.”

The two nurses hastened to her, admonishing her for not sitting still and asking a hundred questions. Uma covertly watched a faintly suspicious Aziz go to the king’s side and tip his head in question. The king waved away his guard with a forced smile and supervised Uma being taken to Castle Beast. There, she was checked for a concussion, her scrapes were disinfected and bandaged, and she was given painkillers for her back. The level of pampering was outrageous. If Uma’s crew coddled her like this whenever she was hurt no one would ever take her seriously again.

King Ben wanted to escort her back to the VKs but she stopped him. “Aziz can do that. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.” She continued in an offhand way, “If you want to make sure I’m recovering, you can send for me tonight your majesty.”

Color warmed his cheeks and he pointedly didn’t look at her as she took Aziz’s arm and left Castle Beast. She could feel Aziz’s sidelong glances all the way back to the VK’s rooms. The guard was a sharp one; he sensed a change in the dynamics between his king and the Isle girl. Uma didn’t care. She was high on the success of her first spell. Her imaginings hadn’t come near the truth of how it felt to use the ancient magic of her kind. It was like her very blood had sung. Her soul felt awake for the first time.

Uma’s only regret in bewitching the king was that she hadn’t been able to give in to her instincts afterward and drag him under the sea. He would’ve been content to drown in her arms.

Mal and Evie were sitting in their room talking when Uma entered. Evie leapt up with a gasp. She gawked at Uma’s torn and dirty outfit.

“What did you do to my creation?” she demanded.

At this callous question, after the gentle treatment of the king and his underlings, Uma laughed as free as a hurricane. Evie startled and the dark fairy slowly stood up. Uma grinned devilishly and touched her locket.

“Did…” Mal asked, sounding like she didn’t dare believe it.

Uma nodded once.

Mal’s lips curled upward. Evie raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms like she thought that wasn’t quite a good enough excuse for Uma trashing her outfit.

“So, someone had a fall, did they?” Mal smirked.

“That’s one way to put it,” Uma said and collapsed into an armchair. “But don’t mind me – tell me about your progress. Have you figured out how to get past your mom’s barriers?”

Evie looked curiously at Mal as well.

“I think I do,” Mal said.

“You think?” Uma stressed. “This isn’t something you should guess at.”

“I hate to agree but…” Evie said.

Mal threw up her hands. “I have a theory and the only way I can be proven right is to just do it.”

“We go into enemy territory and…try out your idea,” Uma said, “That’s the plan? What happens if you’re wrong? You think the High Wardens are going to say: ‘bad luck kids, maybe next time’ and let us go?”

“We didn’t come here to play it safe. And if my track record of schemes, deceptions and double-dealing has ever impressed you at all, Mira, then believe me when I say: this is our shot. If I’m wrong,” she laughed softly, “at least the embarrassment will be short-lived.”

Uma wasn’t exactly brimming with enthusiasm. Seeing this, Mal put her hands on her hips and looked at them both. “Hey, if anyone has any brilliant ideas, now’s the time to speak up.”

Evie shrugged.

Uma rolled her eyes. “So what are we doing?”

“First, you have to do your part,” Mal said then leaned down to whisper in her ear.

                                                                                                                    333333333333333333333

Night fell, and as expected Noah came to bring Uma to the king. They went to Castle Beast and into what was obviously the king’s private office. He ordered Noah to wait outside and the guard did so with no hesitation as Noah trusted her above all the others.

She was hardly looking seductive, while Evie repaired her outfit she wore gray sweatpants and a loose jumper. But as soon as the doors were closed the king rushed to her side like she was a bona fide princess and planted a kiss on her mouth. She made a sound of protest and he quickly stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” he simpered, “I’m just relieved to see you.”

“Relieved?”

 He nodded. “Ever since this morning my mind’s been racing. This feels unreal. I almost can’t believe this has happened to me and I had to kiss you to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

She murmured calming words, tugged him to a couch and made him sit beside her. She held his hand and he relaxed at her side, threading his fingers through hers.

“I’m here. I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere,” she said and scrutinised him, “I hope you didn’t act this anxious in front of anyone else. Remember what I said, you have to pretend nothing’s happened.”

“I’ve spent a lifetime setting aside my feelings for the greater good,” he answered with a sad smile, “You should give me some credit, my love.”

“Sorry,” she said, then squeezed his hand, “By the way, I have amazing news, your majesty.”

“Please, call me Ben when we’re alone. I want you to be at ease when we’re together.”

Uma huffed in exasperation. Managing a lovesick man was going to take a lot of work. “Ben then. Listen to me - Mal told me her plan for retaking Maleficent’s regions.”

He sat so he faced her fully. “She did? What is it?”

“It will only work if we have your help.”

“Of course I’ll help!” he exclaimed, “That goes without saying.”

“Good. Because it’s a…sensitive issue. We need you to convince Fairy Godmother to lend you her wand.”

She thought he might not have heard her because he only stared. Maybe he was daydreaming about taking a moonlit walk on the beach with her?

 She squeezed his hand again. “Ben, this is important. The only question is, do you trust me?”

“You know I do,” he said softly.

“Then get a hold of The Wand for a single day and I swear we will win a great victory. It will be the beginning of the end for Maleficent.”

He took his hand from hers and rubbed the gold beast ring on his finger. “The Wand…it’s the most powerful light artefact in the world. Fairy Godmother won’t give it to me.”

“Sure she will,” she said firmly, “You’re her king. She trusts you. You are good and kind and pure. Why wouldn’t she lend it to you for a day?”

He was frowning at his ring. With one hand she grabbed him by his chin, her fingernails digging in, and stared him down. “Do whatever it takes to get The Wand. It’s our only chance.”

And she kissed him, deep and long, and he responded eagerly. She hummed. It was clear that having a brain cooked by dark magic didn’t impede one’s kissing prowess. When she pulled away there were gold sparks in his hazel eyes.

“I’ll do what you say,” he said roughly, “For you. And for Auradon.”

Chapter Text

The Fairy Godmother’s office was open. She was sitting down at her desk, grimacing and pressing a steaming compress to her head.

“Mom, if there’s anything I can do to help…” Jane said, wringing her hands beside her mother.

“No dearest,” Fairy Godmother patted Jane’s arm without looking at her, “You’re a wonder already.”

“I mean do something more than fetching aspirin, Mom. I want to help.”

Ben knocked on the door frame and Fairy Godmother’s eyes peeked open. She smiled. “You help our king, isn’t that right Ben?”

“Exactly right,” he said as he joined them.

“Did you see how beautifully she filed those intelligence reports? I’d be lost without those color codings,” Fairy Godmother said.

Jane smiled in that small way she did when she was unhappy but too polite to argue.

“You run this place like clockwork Jane,” he told her, “You lighten the burden for me every day and I’m eternally grateful.”

She curtseyed. And perhaps her expression was a little brighter. “You need to speak with Mom, sire?”

“Yes, thank you Jane. But don’t go too far, I need your help finding something.”

Her mom patted her arm again and Jane left them, shutting the door behind her.

“Are you okay, Fairy Godmother?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, nevermind me,” she chuckled, dropping her compress, “Just a teeny, tiny headache.”

“Jane clearly inherited her drive from you. You work so hard; reinforcing our borders, protecting refugees, assisting MAAM at the drop of a hat…”

Fairy Godmother shook her head. “I’m only doing my duty.”

Ben sat in the chair in front of her desk. “Whatever Auradon needs, whatever is for the best, you do it without a second thought.”

He took a breath. She was looking at him curiously now, picking up on something serious.

“And now,” he said, “As your king…and your friend, I have to ask you to do something else for Auradon.”

Fairy Godmother smiled and opened her mouth, ready to agree at once. Ben held up his hand and she paused.

“I need to borrow The Wand,” he said.

She blinked. And looked at The Wand in its simple stand on her desk. It didn’t sparkle or glow like it did when it was in her hand, but Ben could’ve sworn he sensed the connection between The Wand and Fairy Godmother nevertheless. A bond he knew he’d never understand.

“What for?” she asked, brow crinkling in confusion, “If there’s magic you need performed sire, I’d be happy to – “

“You can only help by lending me what’s yours for a day. The rest is up to me.”

“I don’t understand.”

He sighed and gazed around the room as he tried to find the words. “Today, I’m going on a mission with the VKs. If we succeed, it will be the first win we’ve had against Maleficent since…since I don’t even remember. But it will only work if I have The Wand.”

Fairy Godmother touched her temple and he was sure that teeny, tiny headache had escalated into a monster just now.

“What’s this? What mission?” she all but demanded.

“It’s a secret,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips quivered. He waited.

“And if you fail?” she asked pointedly.

“We’re going to fail everybody very soon if I don’t try. I know most of the council thinks I’m crazy, bringing the VKs into this. But I know…”

His eyes stung and he pushed down the emotion threatening to undo him. “I know this is the right thing to do.”

“Does the council know about this mission? Or MAAM?”

“No. There’s nothing for them to do and they’d only try to stop me. They’ll know when it’s over, one way or another.”

“Ben!” she cried, “Don’t be rash, I beg you. Please think. The war is only lost if we lose you. If you throw your life away on a dare, then…”

He stood up, straight and unyielding. “I’m not a child. I would remind you that my father also refused to hide behind castle walls, and I don’t consider his death to be in vain. He went into battle because he felt the need to act; I feel that need too now, knowing all the risks and precisely what’s at stake, in the belief it will make a difference.”

“But with no one to help you but those children!”

He wasn’t sure if she was objecting to the too little help, or that it was the VKs who were providing. “I can handle them, and they can handle danger. And I’ll be taking Aziz, if that makes you feel better.”

“Your majesty – “

“Do you trust me, Fairy Godmother?”

She looked at him helplessly.

“I’m the king you’ve put your trust and hope in,” he said quietly, “Will you allow me to do my duty?”

She shook her head, not in refusal, but in sadness at being put in this position. He bit the inside of his cheek. It hurt him to see a woman who was like an aunt to him in such distress. He’d never used his royal title this way before, strong-arming someone into doing something they desperately didn’t want to do. But it was for the greater good. And for Mira.

“What will you do with The Wand?” she asked weakly.

“Good, of course,” he answered simply.

She sighed. Standing, she picked up her wand and it came alive with light. She twirled it nervously and gave Ben a stern look that reminded him of her headmistress days. “I will let you borrow The Wand only if you promise me it won’t leave your hand Ben. You take it, use it and bring it back. It’s too dangerous an artefact to be misplaced, or worse, for it to end up in disreputable hands.”

“Do whatever it takes to get The Wand,” Mira had said, “It’s our only chance.”

He forced himself to hold her gaze. “I promise.”

With obvious reluctance, she held out The Wand.

Its magical glow dimmed when he took it but didn’t disappear completely. The carved handle of the wood felt warm, comforting.

“It will not work so well, nor come so naturally, for you as it does for me,” she warned him, “Only magicals can access its full power.”

“It will be enough,” he assured her, “Thank you.”

“Is there anything at all I can do?”

“Pass on my order for the army and all available magicals to ready themselves for an incursion into hostile territory. Then wait for my coordinates,” he said and held up his cellphone.

Fairy Godmother’s face paled into a sickly white and she appeared to be unable to speak. He nodded a goodbye and turned to go. When he reached the door, he paused.

“If you don’t hear from me by nightfall, tell the council what happened. And my mother. Tell her…I tried.”

33333333333333333333333333333333333

“Ben, I’m begging you, at least let me go get Lonnie or Chad or anyone. You can’t just go off on your own with the VKs,” Aziz half-jogged to keep up with his strides as they headed down to the old tourney field.

“I’m bringing you, aren’t I?” Ben said.

“I’m not enough to protect you!” Aziz snapped.

“You’re not coming to protect me, necessarily. I would have gone alone but I thought you’d enjoy liberating Agrabah.”

Aziz tripped and he latched onto Ben’s arm, balancing himself and bringing them to a halt. Aziz’s eyes were huge.

Ben sighed. “I’m being unfair. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to come with me Aziz. You’re a member of the royal guard but…but this mission is extremely risky. The outcome will be either victory or death. I’m willing to take this chance but I don’t expect you to be rash – as Fairy Godmother put it – like me.”

Aziz breathed through his nose slowly. “I would gladly die to defeat Jafar. But even if we got close to him - he’s a sorcerer now. Only magic can stop him.”

“The VKs know a way to cheat the barrier.”

Aziz stared at him. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Ben nodded.

“Is there the slightest chance I can talk you out of this?”

He shook his head.

Aziz punched Ben’s arm, a completely inappropriate gesture from a subject to his king. “Well then of course I’m coming with you, you loon. I’m not letting you get all the glory. How could I look my alab in the eye if I sat out on rescuing Agrabah?”

Ben laughed and rubbed his arm. “You know, I have a feeling I’ll be called crazy a thousand more times before this war’s over.”

The VKs were waiting under the bleachers along with the goblins. The goblins were no different but for the small backpacks they carried. The VKs wore loose robes over their clothes that covered everything but their faces and hands. The brown robes were dirty and ugly and looked like nothing more than a bunch of burlap sacks sewn together.

As Ben approached them he was watched with varying levels of anxiety and excitement. Mira looked at him and he nodded a confirmation. Her pleased smile was rich reward and any lingering guilt about what he was doing was sliced cleanly away.

“You got cellphones?” Mal asked him.

He opened the bag he carried. “Jane had a bunch of spares.”

They grabbed one but after taking his Harry Hook continued rummaging through the bag.

“No swords,” he glowered, as if he’d expected they were with the cells in the little bag.

Ben rubbed his neck. “I’m sorry. I tried to check some things out of the armory, but I was getting asked a lot of questions and had to drop it.” The pirate was gazing at him with silent judgement. “Aziz has his daggers, though. And you have your…very sharp prosthetic.”

“We won’t be getting into any battles anyway,” Mal said.

Hook pouted.

“Here,” Mal said and gave Ben a robe, then threw another to Aziz, “Put these on.”

Aziz’s lips curled in disgust as he thrust the robe on. “Agrabah used to be a place of great beauty and color. Normally, these rags would make us stick out like monkeys in a china shop.”

Ben donned his and immediately resisted the urge to scratch himself all over. He sniffed his sleeve. “Where exactly did you get these?”

A goblin yanked another by his backpack and threw him aside to come front and center. The goblin puffed up with pride. “Captain Blibtogs has many, many talents! I can order my troops to raid farms for empty feed bags and tell them to make clothes for my mistress, and they do it!”

Ah. So, they really were sacks sewn together. “And where did the backpacks come from?”

“Another talent. They’re from a daycare. Kiddies went outside for playtime, came back, and poof! No bags. They never saw us.”

Ben frowned at Blibtogs then at Mal. The goblins had managed to escape any watch and were apparently roaming free and pinching whatever they needed. Despite their good intentions, he and Mal would be having words about this later.

They exchanged their cells’ numbers and Mal cautioned them. “Make sure they’re switched to silent. If we’re separated for any reason, use them, but texting only. And at the end of each text add the number of letters in the last word, so we’ll know it’s a genuine text and not a trick. If you’re captured, get them to ‘force’ you to call and lure the rest of us into a trap. The goblins will create a diversion and we’ll get you out.”

“That sounds complicated,” Hook said, digging his hook into his ear then examining it for earwax. “Don’t ya find plans are better if they’re less planned?”

“That makes no sense,” Carlos said.

“Nothing makes sense,” Hook said mysteriously.

Captain Blibtogs bristled. “Queen Mal makes sense! She’s the most sensuous out of anyone.”

Aziz shot Ben a despairing look that said: We’re going with these guys? Really?

“Thank Lucifer Gil’s not here. He’d make this worse," Evie muttered.

“Hey, now you mention it, why isn’t Gil coming?” Jay scowled. “Why bring him to Auradon if he wasn’t going to help?”

Hook pointed at Jay. “What a brilliant question. Just brilliant. Mira? Any ideas?”

Mira didn’t appear to hear him and began handing out the satchels piled on the ground.

“Anyway,” Evie said, “I’m glad he’s staying behind. He can look after Dizzy if things…go wrong.”

The mood darkened as everyone contemplated their possibly imminent demise. Even the goblins stopped their constant restless fidgeting for a few seconds. Ben stared at Mira. Even in a dirty sack, she was stunningly beautiful. He should’ve begged her not to come, to leave the mission in his hands. She was a rare, exotic flower and he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her crushed by Maleficent or her servants. Beneath the surface of his concern for Mira were thoughts of his mother, his friends and his kingdom. He imagined everyone’s devastation at the news of his failure.

His hands tightened into fists at his sides. “We will win. We will.”

The VKs were startled by the cold steel in his voice. Aziz nodded once at his king.

“Of course we will,” Mal raised her chin.

Evie walked over and took her hand.

Mira offered Ben a satchel. “There’s food and water in there.”

“Thank you.” He dared to brush his hand against hers when he accepted the satchel, trying to communicate all his love in that one touch.

“Would you do the honors, your majesty?” she asked, an eyebrow raised daringly.

He grinned and slid a hand beneath his robe and into his coat pocket to retrieve The Wand.

“Wha – “ Aziz gaped at The Wand.

“Come closer,” Mal ordered everyone, “It’ll be easier for him if we’re squeezed together.”

There was a bit of chaos as goblins and people crowded around Ben. Carlos whined and tried to get out of Jay’s headlock, while Jay insisted he was just following orders. Evie yelped and accused Hook of scratching her. Captain Blibtogs latched onto Mal’s leg and sighed happily. Soon, Ben only had enough room to hold The Wand a few inches from his nose. But he didn’t mind. Mira was tucked into his side, her chocolate brown eyes looking at him expectantly.

Feeling invincible, he spoke the words:

Take us to a desert plain,

Just outside Jafar’s domain

Chapter Text

A flash of white then the world reappeared and Mal could hardly breathe with the sudden intense heat. She shoved bodies away from her and shook Blibtogs off her leg. Raising her hand to block the unforgiving sun, she looked around.

Pale gold sand rose and fell in hills as far as the eye could see. There wasn’t a lick of green or a hint of life. It was rock and sand and nothing.

She swore.

Someone laughed and she whipped her head around to glare at the offender. Aziz knelt and scooped up a handful of sand and let it pour through his fingers. Stretched across his face was a grin so wide it must’ve hurt.

“Home,” he marveled.

“Has the heat fried your brain?” Mal growled, using anger to cover her frustration, “Unless you’re the prince of a hellish amount of sand, this isn’t your home!” she turned to King Ben, “You! You had one job to do!”

But the king couldn’t defend himself. He was leaning heavily on Uma, his head rolling, almost unconscious. Aziz leapt up and dashed to his side.

“Ben!” Aziz cried, “What’s wrong?”

The king groaned and Aziz and Uma helped him sit down before he collapsed.

“What’s the matter with him?” Evie asked.

“Teleportation spells are no joke, especially for the distance we traveled,” Mal said grimly. It was why she’d preferred the king do the spell, “And he’s not a magical.”

“Will he be all right?” Aziz demanded, his tone warning that he’d better be.

“Give him a minute and he’ll snap out of it. We have plenty of time, having nothing better to do than work on our tans and die in this wasteland.”

The goblins cried out. “But I don’t wanna die!” one wailed.

“Oh please, please, save us Queen Mal!” another pleaded.

“A tan doesn’t suit me!” one blubbered, “My girlfriend says so!”

“We’re not going to die,” Aziz said from where he crouched by King Ben, “I know where we are. More or less.”

Not reassured in the least, Mal raised the hood of her robe as a puny shield against the sun.

“You heard him worthless stink bugs!” Captain Blibtogs chided his troops, “We’re not finished yet! Pull yourselves together. Line up! Line up!”

Jay plopped himself down in the sand. Hook watched Uma fuss over the king, cooling his forehead and helping him drink from her cannister, and then sat down next to Jay with a humph.

“Ah, I almost forgot,” Evie pulled out a bottle and proceeded to carefully apply sunblock to her face and hands.

“Uh, can I get in on that?” Carlos asked her, then lowered his voice, “I really don’t want any more freckles.”

“Sure,” Evie said and squirted some into his hand, “Mal? Come over here and I’ll fix you up.”

Mal stayed where she was, stewing on the inauspicious start to their mission.

“UV protection is vital to maintaining healthy skin,” Evie sing-songed.

“I’m a dark fairy, Evie. I’m immune to freckles.”

“How would you even know? You’ve lived on a soggy Isle all your life,” when Mal still didn’t move, Evie sniffed, “Fine then. Become the first red fairy. That’ll strike fear in Jafar.”

Hook snorted.

When King Ben could finally speak Mal had finished rubbing sunblock on herself.

“Uhh. Sorry,” he shook his head, “I sort of blacked out for a second.”

“Are you okay?” Aziz pressed him.

“Yeah,” he said and noticed Uma. She smiled shortly, patted him on the back and stood up. Ben lifted The Wand and stared at it, “I must not make a very good wizard huh?”

Aziz let out a surprised laugh. “You should definitely stick with the crown.”

“Ah well,” he pretended to sigh with disappointment before grinning and extending his empty hand. Aziz grasped it and pulled him to his feet. The king wobbled a little but stayed upright.  

“This is Agrabah?” King Ben asked.

“No,” Mal grumbled.

“No,” Aziz agreed, “I’ll take us there.”

Captain Blibtogs refused to allow anyone but Mal to lead until she firmly nudged him forward with the toe of her boot. Aziz set off in a direction that looked no different to any other. It took extra effort to walk on the soft, powdery sand and the sun beat down on them pitilessly. Mal could never have imagined an accursed land this hot. It felt like the sweat running down her face had wiped away all the sunblock on it.

Aziz was light footed as a dancer, not appearing under any strain at all, and he was many yards in front. In his eagerness he’d forgotten about King Ben. Mal glanced behind to see the king panting and struggling to match the pace, still not at a hundred per cent after the spell. Only the goblins were slower. They were tough creatures, but they were built for murky forests and cool, damp caves. She would have to call for a break if Aziz didn’t stop soon. And they’d only been walking about fifteen minutes.

There was a collective groan and a lot of swearing when Aziz – to make their road as difficult as possible apparently – began to climb a sand dune that rose up like a massive tidal wave.

Mal allowed Hook and Uma to pass her and begin climbing. She stopped Jay.

“Help him,” Mal gestured to the king.

King Ben protested weakly that he could manage, but Jay wordlessly looped the king’s arm around his shoulders to let him lean his weight against him. The king was unable to conceal the relief it gave him.

“Thanks,” he said to Jay.

Then he looked at Mal and his thanks showed in his eyes.

Mal faced forward, irritated with herself for some reason.

Evie came to stand beside her and stared up at the sand dune. “Remember how I used to fake a sprained ankle before P.E class?”

“Regretting your life choices?” Mal smirked.

“It wasn’t me. Mom didn’t want me getting dirty,” she said. Her eyes went flat, but not in the empty way they usually did when she spoke of her mother. Evie set her jaw and began to climb.

The dune was steep and the sand shifted with every step; Mal was almost bent in half as she went up and had to use her hands to scrabble and keep her footing. The wind swept the sand into a fine mist down the slope and stung her eyes. She couldn’t even look back to see how the others were doing, she had to go on until she reached the top.

When she did, she was pulled down into a crouch. She blinked at Evie, who pointed ahead.

“This,” Aziz said, “is Agrabah.”

The city sprawled before them, nestled within a half-circle of rocky ridges, a surprising oasis of humanity in this barren land. The flat-roofed buildings the citizens lived in were low, no more than two stories, and were all the same sandstone color and connected by a complicated mesh of bridges, arches and pergolas. The palace was different. It was ridiculously big. The spires shot up into the sky as if in challenge, the golden domed tops like fists punching the air. But that was nothing. The walls of the palace were luminous, they shined and glittered more brilliant than the moon. It was a beauty that even Mal found breathtaking.

It was a palace fit for a god.

Carlos made it to the top and thumped down beside them. He took out his canister from his satchel and took a long drink, and Mal realised her own thirst and did the same.

When Carlos took his first glance at the city he whistled long. “Wow. That is wicked.”

“It’s the most wonderful place I’ve ever seen,” Evie said softly.

“No,” Aziz barked, making Evie jump. “It’s monstrous. Our spies told us: those are diamonds studded into the walls. Jafar forced my people to build him a glorious seat for his throne while the rest of the city falls into ruin.”

Evie’s eyes went huge as she looked at the palace again. “It must be millions of diamonds.”

Aziz glared at her, disliking her appreciative tone.

Mal scrutinised the city further and spotted a shimmer that couldn’t be attributed to the palace.

“The barrier,” Mal murmured.

It was like the Isle’s and hung over Agrabah like a veil or a hazy mist. Mal’s blood ran cold at the similarity.

Jay appeared with King Ben and both appeared thankful to sit down. The king was pale and shaking and Aziz was belatedly reminded of his duty. He crawled over to the king with a guilty expression.

“I can’t see any watch towers. Or any security measures to prevent people coming or going,” Uma said, puzzled.

“Without the right supplies you'd die out here in less than twenty-four hours,” Aziz said, not taking his eyes off the king.

“But your spies could arrange an evacuation. Bring people past the barrier and magic them away.”

King Ben cleared his throat and answered her. “Agrabah was luckier than most in that my father was able to evacuate many citizens right before the invasion. But not all of them. The ones who aren’t in the thrall of Jafar’s hypnosis refuse to abandon the ones who are. Not to mention…”

“The children,” Mal remembered from Jane’s debrief.

His lips thinned. “Yes. He has their children. Somewhere.”

Somewhere within easy reach, Mal theorised, They’ll be the first to die if Jafar discovers he’s under attack.

“You are not well,” Aziz murmured to King Ben, “Perhaps we should abort the mission.”

The king’s eyes flashed. He opened his mouth but Mal interrupted. “Relax. There’s only one thing the king has left to do,” Mal threw her thumb over her shoulder at goblins still heaving themselves up the sand dune. “They’ll lure Jafar out of the palace. We take him out. King Ben calls in the cavalry. Done.”

Aziz stared at her. “What an ingenious strategy.”

“Just do your job, guard, and leave the rest to the professionals. We let the goblins rest five minutes then we move,” Mal said.

“If they ever get up here, ya mean,” Hook drawled.

They waited. There was nothing to do except look at the city and think. Mal’s mind whirled with dozens of scenarios, a hundred ways this could go wrong. She was on Jafar’s turf, he had every advantage. She could only trust in her own wits and that she’d judged their enemy correctly.

“What do you make of it?” Aziz asked.

She thought he was addressing her and turned her head to answer. But he was looking over at where Jay sat, arms over his knees and gazing at Agrabah. She realized that Jay hadn’t said a word since they’d teleported.

“It’s…how I thought it would look,” Jay said. “Except for the diamond castle.”

“Once upon a time you might’ve been born here,” Aziz said without a trace of mockery, surprisingly.

Jay nodded slowly.

“Yeah, but he would’ve been chucked to the Isle anyway,” Hook broke in, snorting, “when he grew tall enough to reach his grubby little fingers into pockets and steal shit. No matter what, this was never going to be home sweet home, J-bird.”

“Hey,” Aziz said, “When my allab was my age he was a street rat, just a common thief. But he turned his life around and got everything he ever wanted. And things he never knew he needed.”

“Not everyone finds an all-powerful Genie, dude,” Jay said with a sour twist of a smile.

“Magic didn’t give him anything. In fact, it nearly finished Agrabah. Magic is what’s hurting Agrabah now. Everything Prince Aladdin got, he earned,” Aziz said firmly.

“But he couldn’t have done it without being given a chance,” King Ben said quietly.

Aziz looked down at his hands.

Wheezing, Captain Blibtogs popped up from the sandy ridge and clawed his way to Mal’s side. He flipped onto his back, his bulbous stomach jiggling with his breaths.

“Captain…report…ing…for…duty…” he gasped out.

When all the goblins had rested and drunk water and didn’t look like they preferred death to moving one more step, Mal stood and the others did the same.

“Mira?” she looked at the pirate.

Uma understood. She went up to the king and held out her hand. Ben smiled, and without hesitation handed her The Wand.

Aziz stepped forward, alarmed. “Sire?”

But his reaction was nothing compared to when Uma walked over and stopped before Mal. The sea witch and the dark fairy locked eyes. Uma was expressionless. Mal narrowed her eyes a bit.

Don’t you dare try it, Shrimpy.

Uma arched an eyebrow and smirked. The VKs tensed.

And she offered The Wand to Mal like she was passing along a pencil in class.

“No!” Aziz shouted.

Mal took The Wand. She’d been braced for it to hurt her, grimly determined to hold The Wand even if it burned her like the Blue Fairy’s wand had. Sparks like white-hot embers zipped out of the tip but there was no pain. The wood radiated cold and was freezing as ice. The power of the ancient artefact was obvious; it sang with awesome possibility. The darkness inside herself squirmed, uncomfortable, but she didn’t feel ill. Not yet anyway.

“What are you thinking? Why did you give it to her?” Aziz croaked at his king, “With that much power, she could…”

“It is a wand of pure light magic, Aziz,” the king soothed, “It can only perform acts of good.”

Mal turned away and hid her grin.

Good is a relative concept.

They moved as fast as they could to the city’s border without exhausting themselves. The closer they got, the more on edge they became.

The city was voiceless. No clamour, not even a murmur. Mal couldn’t spy anyone in the windows or the streets. The city looked as dead as the desert.

The barrier appeared more tangible up close. Mal and her team stopped before the acid green that tainted the air like a thick film of grime. She gazed up at the barrier that stretched up and over the entire city, then through it at the paved road and the houses just a few dozen steps away.

“You’ve got this M,” Evie murmured.

Mal gripped The Wand and held it up. She spoke quietly but clear:

My magic is darkest, yours lightest

This doesn’t matter in the slightest

Unless wand in hand is in disguise

You will be found by evil eyes

So hide in my shadows but a moment

Dim your shine with this bestowment

Then back to normal double quick

After this underhanded fairy trick

She gave The Wand the barest flick and it sparkled, then she cried out, staggering.

“Mal!” her friends yelled.

An undeniable force, perhaps Light itself, was pulling at her, demanding she give. She could only obey and offered a piece of her very soul. Darkness leaked from her bones and crawled up her veins. She was paralysed by the sensation; could only stare as it poured from her hands in shadowy ribbons which snaked through the air as if alive. There were horrified gasps all around her. The shadows arched gracefully and wrapped around The Wand until it was unrecognisable.

The Wand now glowed a neon black. She sensed it was not polluted by The Dark – that was impossible. But it was covered by it. Concealed.

From the roots to the leaves, Mal thought. Apart but connected, as Mother said.

Suddenly afraid of prolonging this link to The Wand, Mal threw herself into motion and crossed the barrier.

She stumbled on the other side and shook her head. Her vision swam. She was consumed with the knowledge that she was missing something vital. Gazing at The Wand in a detached sort of way, she observed the darkness evaporating from it like steam. Then The Wand was a flawless work of white and gold again. Mal sucked in a breath as if resurfacing from deep underwater.

Evie was beside her, shaking her, and looking terrified. Mal hadn’t noticed before. The others were crowded around and stared at her too, maybe worried that she would run mad.

“Mistress?” Blibtogs quavered.

Mal gave them a shaky smile. “My first spell. We should throw a party.”

Evie squeezed her into a side-hug. Mal patted her arm.

“That was freaky,” Carlos said, the fingers of one hand anxiously tapping at his side. “Don’t do it again, please.”

“Are you sure it worked?” Aziz questioned.

“It worked. Jafar doesn’t know we’re here,” Mal said.

“But we better keep moving, in case,” King Ben said, raising his hood.

“Take the lead Jay,” Mal said, tucking The Wand into her sleeve.

Jay did so and they formed a tight line behind him. He mostly stayed off the roads, ducking under windows and moving with the hushed steps of a master sneak. Aziz was nearly as skilled. And the goblins were different creatures compared to what they’d been in the desert. On solid ground and in the shade of the city, they were sure-footed as mountain goats.

There were eerie hints of what life had been like before Jafar, before Maleficent. The shops were bare, but they still had their signs advertising things such as baked goods, jewellery, exotic pets and the latest technology. The homes had been pillaged too. Everything deemed worthless had been piled into heaps and left on the streets years ago. They had to circle around high jumbles of wooden furniture, their painted colors bleached into ashen hues by the sun. The worst was when they passed what used to be a stable. A dead horse was outside, perfectly mummified. It was still in its reins and hitched to a rail, its head was wrenched up to the sky and its lips were stretched obscenely wide in an eternal cry of despair.  

They crouched behind some abandoned pedicabs on the side of the road while Jay determined their next step. The king whispered to Mal, “Where are we going exactly?”

“The Square of Bright Orange Trees,” Mal answered.

Aziz looked sharply at Mal then Jay. “How do you know where – “

“Homework is occasionally useful.”

Jay beckoned and they rushed across the road and pressed themselves against the wall of a house. Jay scooted to the corner and looked around it. He tensed. Mal resisted the urge to speak. He came back, frowning.

“There are people over there,” he said into Mal’s ear, “But they’re not acting normal. They’re hypnotised, I think.”

“What are they doing?”

“Not much.”

“Any weapons or guards?”

He shook his head.

Mal went to the corner to see for herself.

Loitering on the street were six ragged men and women who were skinny as scarecrows. One sat on the curb and dug his finger into dirt and drew meaningless shapes. Another was curled at the bottom of some steps, resting with eyes wide open. A young woman the same age as Mal ambled aimlessly from one lamp post to the next then back again like a malfunctioning machine. The others were motionless where they stood but for a slight swaying. They stared with eyes empty of desire or thought. Mal grimaced.

There was a small, agonised sound beside her cheek and Mal turned her head. Aziz’s face was twisted with pain as he stared at the wretches. Abruptly, he grabbed Mal’s arm hard enough to bruise.

“The Wand!” he said eagerly, “You can free them with The Wand’s magic!”

“I will when I defeat Jafar. I don’t know if he’d sense them waking up," Mal said.

Aziz’s expression crumbled.

“I saw a way around them two blocks back,” Jay said.

“Why go around?” King Ben frowned.

Jay looked like he was questioning the king’s mental stability. “They’re my father’s minions.”

“They’re victims. Our intelligence says they pose no threat.”

“You wanna take that chance?”

“These won’t be the only ones and we don’t have time to avoid them all,” the king argued.

Mal examined the hypnotised again. “We’ll do a test. Someone walk over there.”

“I’ll do it!” Harry raised his hook with a delighted grin, “I’ve always wanted to be chased by a zombie.”

“Always?” Carlos asked doubtfully.

“Before I wanted my mother’s milk,” Harry insisted, and Carlos pulled a face.

The pirate made a show of straightening his robe and stepped forward.

“Careful,” Uma murmured.

Hook looked at her. Then he winked and strode off.

“Act like they do!” Mal hissed at his back.

He slowed as he approached them, then bent sideways at an almost forty-five-degree angle and started dragging his foot.

“Is he moaning?” Jay asked.

Mal facepalmed.

Peeking between her fingers, she watched as none of the hypnotised showed the slightest interest in Hook no matter how tortured his moaning became.

“Braaaiiinnnsss,” he gargled.

Mal marched over to him and smacked his head. “Quit it.”

Hook snapped his teeth at her fingers and she retracted them quickly and scowled.

Chapter Text

“Right,” Mal said as the others came over, “We blend in and pretend to be hypnotised. Jay, lead the goblins and keep out of sight as best you can.”

They nodded. Jay took the goblins and Mal and the rest pulled their hoods down low over their heads and spread out on the road in a loose band.

They encountered more of Agrabah’s citizens as they headed to the square. All of them were filthy, all malnourished. They were always in groups of no less than four. Perhaps, buried deep in their subconscious was the protective instinct to stick together.

They came to a street which had a long, low metal tub running down the middle of the road. The hypnotised were crouched over it, slowly scooping up the watery gruel in the tub and bringing it to their lips and sucking at the mush with loud, disgusting slurping. They didn’t look at their food and were as hollow-eyed as when they ate as when they starved.

King Ben could barely stand to watch them. Aziz was close to tears and to Mal’s surprise she saw Evie wasn’t much better. In fact, all the VKs looked faintly nauseated.

Mal denied her own squeamishness and went past, ignoring the slurping as best she could.

It was clear when they reached the heart of the city. More and more people were about and some of them moved with purpose, plodding to somewhere and dragging heavy, bulging sacks or wheeling carts. In a way, it was easier to navigate this crowd than the barren street, it was a muddled mix of activity and listlessness, everyone so intensely fixated on doing something or nothing that Mal could walk by confident she wouldn’t be noticed.

It was Jay and the goblins she worried about. She glanced sideways and it took a reassuring long time for her to spot them scampering over rooftops.

What all the activity was for was dramatically revealed when they turned a corner and found themselves facing a giant Jafar blocking the width of a main road. It was a stone monstrosity, the workmanship rather crude. Nonetheless, someone had captured Jafar’s air of superiority. The High Warden was depicted in sorcerer’s robes, looking down with his arms crossed. Clearly, what he saw was severely disappointing and he was contemplating how best to destroy what offended him.

It was satisfying that to go past they had to step on the statue’s feet, but once they did it was like they had entered the Jafar Adoration Club. Jafar’s image was everywhere, in stone, wood, clay and paint. His statues loomed on the rooftops, his face was carved into the walls and rendered on the sidewalk. Sometimes he was in his old genie form, red as blood and built like a mountain, but it was always him, smug and sinister.

And it wasn’t enough, apparently. On any empty corner or bare wall, people were hard at work building more idols of the High Warden. Mal was startled when one worker instructed another to hand him a tool. Those who weren’t hypnotised became obvious then and Mal wondered how she didn’t see them at once. They were more human; they had sandals on their feet and were cleaner and more adequately clothed than their hypnotised counterparts. But perhaps they suffered a worse fate. Mindless oblivion might’ve been preferable, their faces were marked with despair and bone-deep fatigue.

“The scum,” Aziz whispered hotly behind her. For an insane instant Mal thought he referred to the workers and her gaze flicked over to him. He stood next to a Jafar statue, his eyes black as pitch and mouth curled into a snarl. “The degenerate. How dare he? He’s killing them! For this?”

He moved as if he’d attack the statue and King Ben latched onto him, holding him back. At the same time, Mal spotted a large man dressed in simple black and red clothes with a clean white turban on his head. He leaned against a doorway, bored, hand resting on the pommel of his scimitar as he surveyed the street. He saw them and his gaze rested, focusing on them ever so slightly.

“Keep moving,” Mal hissed, marching forward and willing them to follow. She went through a group of women crouched on the ground kneading clay, their hands and robes caked in mud, indifferent to her passing. She didn’t dare look around to find Jay, she kept her head down and matched the dogged gait of the workers.

No one shouted or tried to stop them and Mal sighed with relief. She slowed down until she walked alongside Aziz.

“Keep it together. We’re almost at the square,” she muttered low.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Aziz said, “because one way or another, I’m taking a shot at Jafar today.”

The Square of Bright Orange Trees, according to the travel magazine Mal read, had long been used by dancers from all over the world to delight the Agrabah public. The dancers would perform first at the palace for the sultan’s pleasure and then enact a minor version for the commoners. During Prince Aladdin’s and Princess Jasmine’s reign, this concept was extended to include puppeteers, singers, jesters and actors and now the royals were known to come and sit and watch the performances with their subjects. The square was named for the buildings that enclosed it, the walls outside were covered in mosaics of orange trees heavy with fruit and peacocks perching in the branches.

Mal saw that the mosaics had been stripped away with not a single chip left and the square transformed into yet another salute to High Warden Jafar. Stone idols lined the expanse of cobblestones in two long rows, like pillars holding up nothing but air and Jafar’s ego.

The work here was considered complete and the square was empty. They were as close to the palace as they could be without going through the gate, to the right and over the rooftops was the soaring sea of diamonds dazzling in the sunlight like white fire, and it nearly blinded.

Mal heard a noise to her left and her stomach dropped. Had they been followed? But it was Jay coming through a backdoor, goblins in line behind him. Smiling, he and Mal met and grabbed each other’s arm.

“We had one close call,” he said, “But there aren’t as many guards around as I’d have thought.”

“They’re mostly in the palace I bet.”

Her mother would’ve given Jafar just enough men to protect himself and taken the rest to war. She turned to Blibtogs, eyeing him and down.

“Are you and your troops ready, Captain?” Mal asked.

Blibtogs rubbed his hands. “Oh yes, mistress.”

“Then get to it.”

The goblins whooped and swung off their backpacks. Mal gestured to the others to come and entered one of the buildings, what used to be an aquarium maybe with every glass tank inside smashed, and went up the stairs to the second story.

“What’s happening?” Aziz demanded, “Why are we in here?”

“To watch the entertainment Aziz and wait for Jafar to join us.” She went to the window overlooking the square and tweaked the shutters so they could see through the slats. “See? We have a perfect view.”

Aziz looked. The goblins had taken out their spray cans and wore wide and gleeful grins. They wrote on the walls, painted the ground and defaced the statues in quickfire sprays, their graffiti spreading across the square in record time.

Mal pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh. My pupils. I’m so proud.”

“This is your plan?” Aziz shook his head.

“Try to use your brain,” Mal said and pointed at a wall newly plastered with ‘Jafar is a baboon’s ass!’, “You think he’s going to stand for that?”

“No villain would,” Jay said, “and Dad’s got a temper. He’ll go crazy.”

King Ben slid down and sat on the floor, throwing back his hood and drinking from his cannister. He looked at Mal with tired eyes. “You’re playing on his narcissism. Clever.”

She took a short bow. “Merci.”

“And you’re doing it with more stolen property,” King Ben said, massaging his temple.

Mal pinched her lips and turned back to the window. Nothing was good enough for these people.

“I’m hungry,” Carlos announced after a while and reached into his satchel.

“How can you possibly eat right now?” Evie asked.

“What?” he huffed as he unwrapped a granola bar, “Missions work up my appetite.”

“I’m bored,” Hook whined like a little kid. “When are we gonna have some fun?”

“Shut up,” Jay growled.

“Sneaking through Jafar’s city wasn’t exciting enough for you?” Evie asked.

Hook kicked aside some broken glass and slumped against the wall. “It was too easy.”

“Agrabah is not Jafar’s city,” Aziz said.

Mal ignored their bickering and watched her giggling goblins vandalize every surface they touched with swears, jeers and mockeries all aimed at Jafar. Nothing was too crass or too low. There was even a picture of a genie-Jafar being flushed down a toilet with some pieces of shit. It was nasty and vulgar and childish and she loved it.

“Hey!” someone called out below them.

Her friends came to the window to see.

A guard whipped out his scimitar but the goblins were already skittering away. The guard hesitated, unable to choose which one to chase and then it was too late and they were all gone. He went further into the square and realised precisely what he was seeing: a public ‘fuck you’ to his master. He left at a dead run.

“It’s a little sooner than I expected,” Mal murmured.

Minutes later and the goblins came running up the stairs. A runty one clutched his knees and panted. “Did we do well Queen?”

“Adequate.”

His ears pricked up happily. Blibtogs shoved the goblin away, muttering about insubordination and speaking out of turn.

The guard came back with reinforcements, around fifteen men. They prowled around the square with weapons drawn then stood and argued with each other until the biggest one in the bunch raised his voice above the rest and pointed at the surrounding buildings. The guards spread out.

“They’re doing a search,” Mal said, backing away from the window and whipping out The Wand from her sleeve. “Get behind me.”

The goblins scrambled to press themselves against the wall, the others moved with more dignity. She cocked her ear and listened. The crunch of glass alerted her first and she raised her weapon. The guard stomped up the stairs, then his head popped up and turned towards her. When he saw her and her team his expression slid from shock to outrage. Before he could do more than take a breath to shout, she brandished The Wand:

Nothing strange here

Go away with no fear

Sparkles zipped out and hit the man’s face. He blinked. Then his features relaxed into perfect unconcern and he went back down the stairs as if he’d never seen them.

“Nice rhymes Mal,” Carlos grinned, a note of teasing in his voice, “Does poetry come naturally to all fairies?”

She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t make up the rules of magic, Carlos. If the Powers begin planning another world and ask for my opinion, I’ll suggest they don’t try to be cute, but until then…”

Hook leaned over to Uma and spoke in her ear in a mock whisper. “I bet she’s been practising in secret. She’d have started small. Like ‘This is my bed. I sleep like the dead. I wake and eat bread. Then give Evie head.’”

Uma’s laughter peeled out, too loud, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to kill the noise. Carlos and Jay made a point of looking at no one. Mal felt her cheeks flame scarlet. “Hook! Shut. UP.”

Aziz and the king were looking curiously between Mal and an impassive Evie. Uma smothered her snickers. Hook was grinning like an idiot. The goblins didn’t seem to have a clue what was happening. Mal spun on her heel and took up her post at the window again and banished the others from her awareness.

Empty handed, the guards gathered together and resumed arguing. Come on. It wasn’t that hard. They weren’t the brightest bulbs but someone would have to realise that they’d have to –

A guard broke away from the others and ran while the rest crossed their arms and brooded.

Bingo.

“One’s gone to report it,” Mal said without looking, “Jafar will come soon.”

“How do we help?” King Ben asked.

“You don’t. It’s down to me.”

She was unsurprised at how quickly he came. What she didn’t expect was the legion of hypnotised slaves Jafar brought with him. He held his cobra-headed staff high and lead them into the square like the pied piper. Wearing cloth-of-gold robes and with many sparkling jewels on his fingers and feathered turban, he looked equal parts menacing and ridiculous.

Mal snorted. What a princess.

The guards fell to one knee and bowed their heads. Jafar touched his staff to the ground and the hypnotised jerked to a stop and stood there blankly, his unwitting human shields. Mal caught a glimpse of his face. It was twisted with rage as he saw what the goblins had done.

“How are you going to get to him?” Evie asked quietly. Mal turned and everyone was crowded next to her.

Mal thought furiously. “We need to make him send them away somehow.”

“What if the zombies chase someone? Someone loathed by Jafar,” Aziz said slowly.

Everyone stared at him.

Hook clapped him on the shoulder.  “Lucky bastard.”

“Hurry,” she urged.

Aziz went to the window overlooking the street, not the square, and pulled open the shutter and stepped onto the sill.

“Be careful,” King Ben said.

With one arm Aziz gripped the side of the window and swung himself out, pivoting to face the wall and grabbing something to pull himself up and out of sight.

Jafar was throwing a tantrum. He raised his staff and a bolt of green energy sprung from the head and blasted the ground. The spot where graffiti had proclaimed, ‘Jafar is a joke’ was now a smouldering crater.

He whirled around and pointed at his guards, who cowered lower. “You incompetent fools!” Jafar screamed, “Why do I suffer your existence? No one mocks the High Warden of Agrabah. If you’re dim-witted enough to allow this to happen on your watch, I’ll find someone else to steer the cattle in my city.”

“But it wasn’t our fault!” one of them cried out, raising his head a little,“The ones who did this – they weren’t human! They were monsters or demons or…”

Jafar’s expression was icy. “Demons? With spray paint?”

The guard made to answer and Jafar swung his staff down. A bolt sprung forward and wrapped around the guard’s mouth like a coil of rope. The man ripped at the magic bonds with his hands but of course that was useless. His comrades didn’t even glance in his direction and kept their gaze downcast.

Jafar straightened to his full height and stared down his nose. “It appears a spark of defiance has managed to bloom, despite all. You have one chance to find it. I want the slaves who did this brought to me. I want them to grovel at my feet before I throw them off a cliff!”

“No need to hassle your men Jafar! The culprit has come to you; though I’m not in a grovelling mood I’m afraid.”

Mal squinted across the length of the square and there was Aziz, standing on a rooftop with a cocky grin, diamonds blazing behind him and casting him in rainbows. He looked like a celestial being come down from the heavens. Jafar and the guards looked up and froze, shocked.

“Don’t recognize me you old snake?” Aziz called down, “I’ve grown up, it’s true, but I’m told I look so much like my parents.”

Jafar reared back as if slapped. “Aladdin’s brat.”

“I wanted you to know that you haven’t fooled me. I know you’re still a pathetic loser and I’m not scared of you.”

A green bolt shot to the rooftop, but Aziz was too quick and leapt out of the way. Another bolt came his way and he jumped to another roof and ran. Jafar shoved his staff into the air and the cobra’s emerald eyes flared bright.

“After him!” he screeched.

The hypnotised twitched and raised their heads, electrified by the command, and charged over to the buildings. The guards were swept up by the stampede and joined the horde in hunting down Aziz, filling the buildings and flooding the streets on the other side. The only one left behind was the guard with the magic gag, who was curled up and groaning from the trampling he’d just received.

Jafar stood as alone and defenceless as he was ever going to be.

When Mal moved, Evie stepped with her. “I’ll go with you.”

“Me too,” King Ben said, jaw set.

“We are at your service, Mistress,” Bligtogs added.

“No,” Mal pushed Evie away and edged backward to the stairs. “Stay here. This fight will be over faster than an ogre beauty pageant.”

She looked them over one last time and stilled. Someone was missing.

“Where’s Jay?” she asked.

Carlos turned and his mouth dropped in surprise at finding no one by his side.

“Oh yeah,” Hook spoke up from where he leaned on the wall, “He’s gone.”

The words made no sense to Mal. “Gone?”

“Uh huh,” Hook shrugged carelessly but his eyes glittered, “He left. Maybe he went for a piss. Who was I to stop him?”

Mal rushed to the window and pressed her face against the shutters. Through the slats she spotted Jay walking straight up to his father.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

Mal hid in the doorway leading outside and peered around to see Jafar and Jay. If Jafar had been shocked at the appearance of Aziz he was floored by the sight of his son. Jay stopped before him and crossed his arms. Mal could imagine his expression, it would be the same as hers were she in this position: nonchalant, almost bored, with just a hint of disdain. He said something but it was too low and Mal was too far away to catch it. She whipped The Wand: 

Let me hear this conversation

Crystal clear for its duration

Jafar closed his mouth, which had been gaping open, and spoke in a strangled voice, “Jay…well, this is a surprise. What are you doing here?”

“We’re skipping the hug and tears of joy then,” Jay said.

Jafar looked at a loss as to what to do and how to respond. Mal didn’t think he could pull off the role of father in an emotional reunion with his long lost son anyway.

“Fine,” Jay continued. “Straight to business. As always. I don’t need to ask how you’re doing after all these years Dad. You’ve got a diamond palace. And wow. I love your threads. Is that real gold? What am I saying, of course it is.”

Jafar’s eyes narrowed. “How did you escape the Isle?”

“And you’ve got a new staff. A snake, how original. Maleficent gave you that, didn’t she? How nice of her.”

Jafar’s thin face was composed now. He was a tall man and he used every inch of that, standing proudly with his staff at his side. ”Strange. My son returns to me a few minutes after the son of my arch-enemy materializes. Do I detect a conspiracy?”

Mal felt sick. A Jafar on high alert was exactly what they’d been trying to avoid. If he magically raised the alarm the enslaved Auradonians would be slaughtered. Mal might still win the battle, but it wouldn’t be a clean victory and King Ben would never trust her again.

Jay had a ready answer. “The king was getting nowhere and Aziz didn’t want to listen to him anymore. More than anything, Aziz wanted you killed. I convinced him I was the only one who could get close enough to do it so he broke me out and brought me here.”

The big fluffy feather on Jafar’s turban drooped to one side as he tipped his head. “Since you’re telling me this, I can assume that’s not your plan.”

“No. I tricked him.”

“Then I repeat: what are you doing here?”

“I only really wanted to ask you something.”

“Ah. Why I left you behind?” Jafar asked.

Jay’s hands curled into fists. “Why did you turn me into a thief and then not give me a chance to steal anything of worth? Why didn’t you let me prove myself? I did everything you asked. I was ready. Everything you have I could’ve gotten for you and you wouldn’t be on Maleficent’s string. We could’ve been partners in this thing, like you always said. So why?”

Jafar considered him. “Are you certain you want to know?”

“Yes,” Jay spat.

“Fine,” Jafar smiled, “The sad truth, son, is that you were never up to scratch. You were never hungry enough. You were never ambitious enough. You talked the talk, but at your core you were content to be one of the riff-raff and live in trash with your little friends. I blame myself, a bit. It’s a character flaw I simply couldn’t purge from you.”

A growl bordering on animalistic came from Jay. “You thought I didn’t want it enough? All that stuff I stole for you and you thought I didn’t care? Well, screw you Dad! I made it to Agrabah!”

“Yes,” Jafar sneered, “so you could question me. I was right about you Jay.”

He raised his staff off the ground. Green coils threw themselves at Jay and snapped around his arms and torso. The bonds squeezed tight and Jay gasped and fell to his knees. Mal had completely forgotten about the guard lying on the ground until the magic that gagged him disappeared and he gasped in relief. The guard stood hesitantly. Jafar beckoned him over.

“You’re too dangerous to be allowed to roam free,” Jafar told Jay, “Or at least, too troublesome. I would hypnotize you but the maximum number of thralls has been reached. I’m the master of Agrabah and I won’t risk anything spoiling that. Don’t be afraid Jay. This will be over before you know it.”

Jafar nodded to the guard, who unsheathed his scimitar. Then he turned away from his son. Jay struggled but the magic squeezed the breath out of him and he couldn’t speak or stand. The guard raised his blade over Jay’s head.

Mal dashed out and pointed The Wand:

On second thought

Sword is too hot

There was a hiss and the guard howled and dropped his weapon, clutching his right hand and whimpering. Jafar spun around and saw her. She kept moving and cast another spell:

His bonds break

Make no mistake

Cracks appeared in the magic coils around Jay until they shattered and dissipated. Free, he scrambled backward and ran. Jafar snarled and thrust his staff at Mal and sent a stream of energy her way. She yelled:

Shield

Field

A silver gossamer wave swept in front of her and Jafar’s magic hit it with a thud and fizzled out. Jafar sent another bolt that splattered harmlessly against the shield and he shrieked in outrage. Jay dropped and skidded across the cobblestones, Mal flicked The Wand slightly and the curtain of magic rose up and created a gap for Jay to go through. He skidded to Mal’s feet and she lowered The Wand and the shield dropped down again in time for another magic bolt to hit it. He looked up at her.

“Shield, field?” he wheezed.

She glared hotly. “It worked didn’t it?”

He winced and held his ribs as he got to his feet. They looked through the magic shield at Jafar. The High Warden of Agrabah was bravely standing behind his guard, holding the terrified man in place by the neck with one hand and clutching his staff with the other.

“I need a clear shot,” Mal muttered.

“Can’t the others help?” Jay asked.

“I ordered them to stay. I don’t want Jafar getting any ideas about the Auradonians.”

“The Fairy Godmother’s Wand,” Jafar called out, “You’re a clever girl to get your hands on it. Your mother would be proud, Mal.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Mal called back.

Jafar cackled. “That wand is powerful, it’s true, but it can’t kill anyone no matter how evil they are.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear that," she said, "I have this disability that makes me go deaf whenever a second-rate sorcerer thinks to lecture me."

He slammed the heel of his staff down and sparks flew out, and like glowing green flies they darted away, most in the direction of the palace. She swore quietly.

“Calling for help Dad? I didn’t realize we scared you that much,” Jay mocked.

“We’ll see if you still run your mouth when you’re surrounded,” Jafar said.

“We’ve got a plan right?” Jay spoke out the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, now you’re interested in the plan,” Mal looked around for an idea and saw the twin rows of Jafar statues behind them. She pointed The Wand at them and said:

Naptime’s over, wakey wakey

Getting grim, our chances shaky

Look alive and lend a hand

Do more now than just stand

A line of sparkles zipped out of the tip and swirled around each statue in turn. The statues wobbled. Then they all slowly turned their Jafar-like faces to Mal. Mentally, she immortalized the moment by putting it in her list of ‘Most Disturbing Things Ever’, right below Uma’s fluffy bunny act and the idea of Jay and Evie together. The statues who had legs took an unsteady step and the ones who didn’t crashed down and dragged themselves with their rudimentary arms of wood and stone. The statues walked with stiff, jerky movements and shuffled past Mal and Jay and began converging on Jafar.

Jafar’s eyes bugged as he blasted a statue with his magic and exploded it into splinters. He cast his staff at another one and sent a green jet that destroyed most of the statue, but the legs had survived and marched on until he destroyed those too. Keeping the terrified guard in front, Jafar sent bolt after bolt and smashed many of his statues to dust but others came and they were relentless. One had only a torso and part of an arm left and was using the stump to drag itself further.

It was delicious to witness Jafar panic. As he blasted one statue another reached for him and he flung the squealing guard into its arms. The statue clamped the guard to its chest and froze, trapping him. Club-like hands reached for Jafar again and he spun and snarled and obliterated them but more statues pawed at him and he found he was surrounded. He swung his staff in a last desperate move, but statues latched onto his arms and forced them down to his sides. The head of the golden snake knocked against the ground but he didn’t let go of the staff.

Mal waved The Wand and the force shield was gone. She and Jay strolled up to Jafar, who squirmed and strained and tried everything to break free, but the statues had him in a lock and were immovable. 

Jafar snarled at her, spittle flying, and he had a mad glow in his eyes. “You little bitch. Maleficent will tear you apart for this. Do you hear me? You’ll beg for death before she’s through!”

“Awww. The wittle Warden needs my mommy,” Mal baby-talked then laughed.

Jafar briefly renewed his struggles before he drooped, exhausted. He’s been living a soft, cushy life, Mal thought wryly, He’s not used to breaking a sweat anymore.

The High Warden eyed her and sniffed. “I'm not afraid of that fairy stick. It’s an instrument of good. Murder is beyond it.”

Mal began tapping The Wand against her palm. He must’ve seen something in her expression he didn’t like because his gaze whipped to Jay and he licked his lips nervously.

“I’m your father,” Jafar whined, “I raised you. You can’t let her hurt me.”

“I would say ‘don’t be afraid Dad’,” Jay said with a brittle smile, “But the sad truth is, you really should be.”

Mal raised The Wand. Jafar blabbered, telling her to wait, to stop, to listen to him for a minute but she ignored him. She whispered so he wouldn't hear her:

If truth is best and honest good

Then make my wish understood

Know I this person’s deepest fear

Draw it out, have fact appear

Bring light to this black heart

Else shock will give a fatal start

Everything went dark and silent and Mal felt weightless, suspended in space. She was filled with simple surprise. Then sound and color returned and Mal was not where she was before. Confused, she frowned. She was in a dirty alley. The air felt cooler and the sunlight was dim, it was either very early in the morning or the day was nearly over. A hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around.

Jafar leaned down into her face, his maniacal grin stretching awfully wide. “Now who’s the second-rate sorcerer?”

She looked around wildly. Jay was gone. The statues were nowhere in sight and Jafar was free. She raised The Wand – only The Wand wasn’t in her hand. She stared at her palm, horrified. Jafar laughed.

“I don’t know what you intended, but whatever spell you cast clearly backfired,” he crowed.

How? That’s the word that reverberated in her head. How? Had The Wand rejected her command, punished her for her darkness? It had worked for her perfectly beforehand, why had it forsaken her at the critical moment? This was all academic of course; what truly mattered was that Mal was alone and defenceless against an enraged Jafar.

He showed her his staff and the emerald eyes of the snake seemed to have a hungry glint. Her mouth went dry.

“As you can see,” he said smugly, “My magic remains strong. Do you know, I’m almost tempted to leave you to the tender mercies of your mother. But I’m a selfish being. I want your death for myself.”

She stomped on his foot and he yelled and shoved her back. Stumbling, she knew she wouldn’t have time to run before he killed her. He raised his staff, expression twisted with hatred. Then, to her amazement, he paused. His gaze snagged on something over her shoulder and she looked too, despite herself.

A tangled construction of crates, planks and metal sheets was in the alley and a child sat on top of it, yawning. He blinked at Jafar sleepily.

“Jafee, stop making so much noise. You’ll wake the dead,” the boy grumbled.

“Is it time to go begging?” a tiny female voice called from somewhere inside the makeshift shelter.

“Not yet Sabah,” the boy answered. He raised up the tarp he’d been sleeping under. “Come on Jafee, you’ll get cold.”

“No,” Jafar stared at the boy, transfixed. His lip trembled. “No.”

He whirled to Mal. “What – “

She frowned as he did a double take and looked around frantically. “Where are you? Don’t you dare think to hide from me!” He jabbed out with his staff and she gasped as it passed right through her chest, as if she were as insubstantial as a hologram. She jumped away. Jafar noticed nothing and continued to act like she’d disappeared into thin air.

“What are you doing?” the boy shook his head at Jafar, “Stop messing around.”

There was a sharp rap on metal. “Hey! Shut up, I’m trying to sleep,” said another voice from inside the shelter.

“It’s not me!” the boy defended himself, “It’s Jafee!”

“Don’t call me that Rayan!” Jafar snarled, focusing on the boy. “I am the High Warden of Agrabah, most feared of Maleficent’s servants and one day soon I will rule the world.”

Rayan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. We all know you’re going to get out of the streets someday and be a big, important man.”

“I am an important man!” Jafar said.

Mal felt a grin creep onto her face. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, letting the situation unfold. 

Rayan gave a look. “I think you’re still half-asleep Jafee. You’re not a man. And you’re not important.”

“Why am I speaking to you,” Jafar shook his head and huffed, “You’re not real. This is an illusion. A trick.”

“That’s it!” growled the voice from before and another boy wormed himself out of the shelter. He stood and glared at Jafar. “Either shut up or I will ground your face into the dirt.”

Jafar laughed but it was a forced thing. “I could destroy you in an instant Zade. That is, if you were actually here and not an illusion.”

Zade’s expression darkened. He was bigger than Rayan and a few inches taller and looked at Jafar scornfully. “Don’t make me beat you up again.”

Two men strolled into the alley and everyone fell silent. Zade stepped back. The men carried wooden clubs.

“All right you lot," one said, looking at them with hard eyes. “You can’t lurk here anymore. Time to move on and give the neighborhood back to honest folk.”

Zade backpedaled and ran past the shelter and onto the street. Rayan jumped off his bunk and shoved sheet metal aside, revealing a little girl lying on a mat. She glanced at the men and quailed, grabbing the boy. He whispered reassurances to her.

The men turned to Jafar. “What you waiting for boy? Get gone.”

Jafar sputtered so hard he was in danger of choking. He pointed a shaking finger. “It is you who should go from my sight.”

The Rayan's head snapped up. “Jafee!”

The men were just as astounded. Then their eyes narrowed and they stepped closer to Jafar, who stood firm. “You have seconds to run street rat.”

“Street rat!” Jafar shrieked, “Illusion or not, for that you must die!” and he thrust his staff toward the men.

Nothing happened. Not even a flicker of magic. Jafar thumped the snake’s head but still nothing happened.

The men thought this was hilarious.

“Is this kid insane or stupid?” one gasped out through laughter.

The other pushed his club into Jafar’s chest and made him stumble back. “Take your little stick and scram.”

“It’s not a stick,” Jafar seethed. “And I’m not a kid.”

“Please Jafee, cut it out and help me move Sabah,” Rayan pleaded.

Mal turned her head to see the boy struggling to drag the mat the girl was on. She looked closer. Below the hem of her dress Sabah’s legs were thin and twisted and her small feet were bent unnaturally to one side; she was a cripple.

Jafar was shoved again. “Listen to your friend,” the man sneered, “We’re trying to be nice here but you’re begging for bruises.”

“He’s not my friend,” Jafar said, trembling with the force of his emotions. “I’m not begging, and I’ll show you a bruise!”

He whacked the closest man with his staff – only it wasn’t a staff anymore. It was a short stick and no thicker than a thumb's width, and the man didn’t even blink when it hit his arm.

Mal raised her eyebrows.

Jafar stared at the stick. Then he checked the ground, maybe thinking he’d dropped his staff somehow, but there was no sign of it. He shook the stick violently, trying to bully it into transforming back into the staff. When that didn’t happen, he whirled and shouted at the air. “Mal! I know you can hear me you wretched girl. Stop this…this joke this instant. Face me! Mal!”

The men shoved Jafar again and this time sent him crashing into the wall. Mal clapped and ooo’d. This was pretty fun. 

“Don’t hurt him!” the little girl cried.

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Rayan implored, “He woke up from a weird dream, that’s all.”

The men swung their clubs too casually at their sides as they crowded Jafar, who groaned and used the wall to balance himself.

“Apologize for hitting me,” the thug growled.

“Do it,” Rayan urged, “Let’s get out of here. Please, I can’t move Sabah without you.”

“This isn’t real,” Jafar muttered.

“Does it feel real?” the thug said and shoved his club into Jafar’s side. Jafar gasped and accidentally dropped his stick. He bent down to pick it up again but another blow stopped him.

“Say sorry Jafee!” Sabah screamed.

"You're nobody, street rat. You're nothing," the man loomed over him, "That's how it will always be. And you know it."

Jafar’s squeezed his eyes shut. “Mal. Enough. Stop this!”

“There is no Mal,” the thug said and kicked the stick away. He pulled Jafar by the collar and then shoved him hard against the wall. And the thug wasn't holding the Jafar Mal knew anymore. He was holding a skinny kid with big eyes and an even bigger nose, his hair sticking up on one side and his clothes as tattered as any urchin. Jafar kicked and flailed in the man's grasp, his terror rocketing. 

"No, no, no," Jafar moaned. He banged his head back against the wall and flinched, but did it again and again. "Wake up, wake up!"

"You are awake, idiot!" Rayan said desperately.

The man who didn't have Jafar approached the other kids. "We told you to leave. But I guess we're going to have to make you."

Sabah began to cry and Rayan hugged her and stared at Jafar. "Help us!"

"Apologize!" the thug roared. 

"No!" Jafar scratched and clawed at the hands that held him. "Just get me out of here! I'll do anything, please! Make it stop. Just make it stop! Make. It. Stop!"

The alley disappeared and utter blackness enveloped the world again. Mal's senses failed her, there was only the feeling that she was floating. She knew she wasn't dead but faintly wondered if, when her time came, this is what limbo would be like before she was dragged down to hell.

She had the impression of being sucked back into her body and sound returned in a sudden pop and she squinted against the sunlight. She shook her head to clear it and blinked once, twice, then looked forward. Jafar was normal again, back in his adult body and gaudy robes, and he was being held by the spelled statues - in fact, she realized he was in the exact position he'd been in before she cast the spell, and so was she. She glanced at Jay beside her. He was looking at his father. 

Jafar was not well. Nostrils flaring and chest heaving up and down, he panted like a racehorse that had been forced past what it could endure. He gulped for air that didn't come fast enough, his eyes rolling. Then he gagged and his body seized and his staff went flying from his hand. The rasping sounds Jafar made were the ones of a dying man. At his side, the captured guard watched in horror. 

It wasn't magic doing this. It was science - a documented but rare phenomenon that was impossible to deliberately trigger. But not if you knew your target's worst fear and were able to bring it to life. Mal took pleasure in picturing what was happening right now. Jafar's brain flooding his bloodstream with massive, lethal amounts of adrenaline, his pounding heart reeling in that toxic blood until it was suddenly filled with it and then - 

Jafar's head dropped down and he sagged. The statues let go and the High Warden of Agrabah crumpled to the ground and lay there, unmoving. 

The adrenaline had stunned his heart and stopped it beating. Mal ran a finger down The Wand. Magic may have pushed Jafar in a certain direction but like he'd said, murder was beyond The Wand's capabilities. In the end it was he, and he alone, who had recoiled from any good choices and literally scared himself to death. 

Mal looked at Jay. "Hey, did you see that?"

"See my asshole of a dad dying?" he grunted, "Yeah, I saw it. It was great."

"No. The stuff before that. With the alley and the kids and - "

Jay gave her a confused look and she sighed. "Never mind. We better stop that mob from tearing Aziz apart, if they haven't already," she went and picked up Jafar's staff and tossed it Jay. "Care to do the honors?"

He grinned and held the staff with both hands. He raised his knee and slammed the staff against his leg, snapping the gold rod in two. Green mist swirled out of the broken ends and evaporated and the emerald eyes turned black and dull. He threw the pieces of the staff away from him.

Mal touched the Jafar statues but they were frozen still. "Huh. I think the magic's worn off."

"Uh, excuse me," the guard piped up, still suspended a foot off the ground and wrapped in a stone embrace. "But um, does that mean I'm stuck like this?"

"Mal."

She turned and King Ben led Evie, Carlos, Uma and Hook and all the goblins over to her. They stared at Jafar's corpse.

"He's dead," King Ben said, "We won."

"Yep," she replied. "Maybe now we should call for back up?" 

"Right," he tore his gaze away and fumbled for his satchel. 

Mal was surprised when Evie ignored her and went to Jay. She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, but didn't meet her eyes. 

"Okay?" Hook laughed, "He's fan-bloody-tastic! First Aziz with the zombies, now this. Ye all are living my dream today. I'm jealous as a step-sister."

"Shut up," Mal said, but there was no fire in it. She was tired. In the space of a few hours she had teleported across the world, trekked through a desert, had her magic pulled out of her soul, cast her first eight spells and for some reason had taken part in the nightmare meant purely for Jafar. She was done. 

The thunder of footsteps had them all spinning around. The band of guards stopped in their tracks, weapons poised uncertainly. 

Mal lifted The Wand and it sparkled like a cold star. Her friends gathered around her and glared at the guards. Hook slashed the air and Uma smirked. The goblins formed a line in front, bared their teeth and hissed and growled and chomped. 

And the guards noticed the High Warden lying dead.

King Ben stepped forward and spoke in a voice that demanded absolute and immediate surrender. "Kneel."

The guards threw their swords down and then themselves.

Chapter Text

Jordan tucked back a stray lock of hair behind one pointed ear and glanced behind her, double-checking that the shot lined up with the view of the palace. She moistened her lips and raised her microphone.

"We good?" she asked.

"Yep," her cameraman, Jack, said as he stared down the lens. He mouthed, "We're live in three, two, one..."

Jordan smiled into the camera. "It's a historic day in Agrabah. Princess Jasmine and Prince Aladdin have arrived to reclaim the region and work alongside King Ben and assist those who suffered most from Jafar's tyranny. The children found in the Warden's underground prison beneath the palace have been moved to Queen Belle's Medical Center in Auradon City for their recovery. They are reportedly in a stable condition. Less is known about the victims of Jafar's hypnosis except that they are being magically treated for malnutrition and shock by the good people of MAAM," warmth entered her voice and her smile turned gentle. It wasn't strictly professional but it was an emotional time for what remained of the USA and she thought her audience would appreciate a more personal touch.

"What I've been most inspired by since I came here, is the people who weren't hypnotized during Jafar's occupation but still pressed into slave labor. Despite what they have been through, they have insisted on staying and helping relief workers. They have been instrumental in identifying children and the ex-hypnotized and reconnecting them with their families. It is a true testament to the Agrabah spirit. And the Auradon virtues that still survive even after so much hardship," she cleared her throat and continued, "No word yet about how this remarkable victory was achieved or when civilians can enter the region. Princess Jasmine and Prince Aladdin are due to address the USA at one o'clock and perhaps more information will be given then. But one thing is certain: the mission to retake Agrabah was personally spearheaded by King Ben and it is to him we owe this fantastic and long desired blow against The Enemy. This is Jordan Karran, reporting live at Agrabah."

"We're clear," Jack said. Jordan heard an all too-familiar sound, like a great puff of air, and Jack squealed and nearly dropped the camera. Huge arms wrapped around her and picked her off the ground, squeezing.

"Jojo!" her dad exclaimed, "Look at you, being a reporter, all serious. So cute! It feels like just yesterday I bought you your first lamp - it was so tiny - and now you're out there in the world like a real person. I'm as proud of your life choices as I am confused by them."

"Daaaad," she whined. Since she was six years old she knew it was useless to struggle so she just hung there in his arms, thoroughly embarrassed. "Put me down. I'm working."

"As you wish, my jewel beetle," he plopped her down and she fixed her hair, readjusting the small sapphire in the middle of her head chain. 

Genie crossed his arms and smiled. He ignored the presence of Jack, who was obviously rocked by the sudden appearance of this legendary being. Jordan mentally rolled her eyes. If Jack was going to be her regular cameraman he'd have to get used to her dad snapping into existence at the drop of a hat. 

"Are you here to help out?" she asked her dad.

"Uh huh. That old snake did a doozy on the people he hypnotized and they're still a little messed up. The ladies of MAAM called me," he became suddenly ripped with muscle and he put his hands on his hips and struck a heroic pose, "for a consultation."

"That's great dad," she enthused, "I'm sure they could use you."

She always made a point of praising every helpful action of her dad's. He didn't do enough for the war effort. In fact, he did woefully little in her opinion. It was a sore spot for her. But no matter what she or anyone else said about it, Genie was always unmoved. It had to do with him being a slave for thousands of years, she guessed. Freed, he was a loose kite. You could shout all you want but that wouldn't get him to go where you'd like. 

"Are you going to stand with Princess Jasmine and Prince Aladdin when they make their address?" she asked hopefully.

Genie looked quizzical. "No. Why would I?"

"You're like," she grasped the air, trying to find the right words, "Agrabah's mascot, Dad. You're a cultural hero. It would be uplifting for people to see you beside the royals."

His muscles deflated to normal, going from massive to merely huge. "Pfft. Al doesn't need me. Aziz will be there and the camera loves him. You know, you're lucky you got your mom's coloring because my skin does not show up well on TV. For some reason it's cornflower blue when it should be a light cyan."

"How about a quick interview then?" she asked, "You can talk about how happy you are to be back in Agrabah and what a great victory this is. Please."

He bopped her on the nose. "Sure Jojo."

She beamed and gave a thumbs up to Jack. He came to his senses and pressed the button to record and lifted the camera up.

"Hello, I'm Jordan Karran and I'm joined here on the site of our most wonderful victory by a special someone. The world knows him as a hero and magical maelstrom but to me, he's just my - "

"Uh, Jordan?" Jack interrupted and pointed.

She turned to see Genie had disappeared. She threw her microphone down. "Dammit!" 

33333333333333333333333333333333333

The steps leading up to the palace were ridiculously long and made Mal think it had been built to exhaust any visitors, leaving them a panting sweaty mess before the poised Sultan. She sat on the top step and looked out. It was quite a view. Beyond the lofty gate and three-foot-thick walls, all the houses in Agrabah were laid out before her in a half circle and behind them the desert stretched to the horizon like a red sea. Even sitting on the palace step and not the throne, one couldn't help but feel above it all. Master of an island inhabited by distant people in little houses. More proof that the ruler who commissioned this palace was a bastard.

Mal sighed and pulled the veil that covered her head over her face more. She didn't like staying out in the hot sun but she was sleepy with boredom. She'd been wandering around, looking for diversion and failing. She crossed her legs and propped up her chin with the heel of her hand, determined not to retreat to her room just yet. She looked at the courtyard below. It was filled to capacity, soldiers and relief workers going in and out of the tents they'd erected. 

There was much to do to secure the region and for nearly a week Mal and the other VKs hadn't been involved in any of it. They'd been pushed to the side as the Auradonians operated on the city at a break-neck speed. On the first day, the king had made sure they were looked after within the splendor of the palace before he was whisked away by his people and Mal had only caught glimpses of him since. She was woefully bored, but even if she'd been inclined to be useful, it was impossible. Officially, the VKs weren't here. Only King Ben's inner circle knew who they were and that they'd played a part in the campaign and it had to stay that way. The VKs had been stripped of their normal clothes, and for most of the Auradonians here they appeared to be a bunch of anti-social kids favored by the king who did nothing but laze about in harem pants and pretty veils. 

But the truth was they couldn't afford to rest on their laurels. They had to make their move on the next region soon. 

"Hey."

King Ben sat down beside her. He wore a white uniform stiff with braiding and a heavy crown which had the face of a horned beast wrought in the gold. He would look intimidating if he wasn't looking at her with such a guileless smile. 

"Hey," she said after a hesitation. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about us. Or Captain Lonnie had chained you to her belt so you couldn't run away again."

"Heh. Actually its been Fairy Godmother who's been hovering over me the most. I'm finally back to normal since using The Wand and Fairy Godmother is kicking herself for ever letting me use it; apparently my father's old curse wormed its way into my blood and it doesn't mix well with Light Magic."

"Lucifer," Mal said in surprise, "Will you be all right?"

His hazel eyes sparkled with humor. "I'll be fine but my sorcerer days are well and truly behind me. Which doesn't matter in the least, because you were amazing with The Wand and after what you've done for us Fairy Godmother will have no problem giving it directly to you."

Mal wrinkled her nose and laughed. "I'm not sure about that."

"No really Mal," he touched her arm, "Thank you. Auradon may not know what you've done for it yet, but I hope you realize."

She leaned away slightly and his hand dropped. "I was just honoring the terms of our deal," she said without looking at him. 

"Right," he said, but she could still hear his happiness. 

"I hope you realize we can't stay here much longer," she pressed on, changing the subject, "Agrabah is a big deal for you guys, I know, but this was basically rehearsal before we take the show on the road."

"Giving people hope and celebrating our victory is just as important as the victory itself Mal. You risk exhausting and demoralizing your team if you make them sprint when they're running in a marathon. But you don't need to worry. We go back to Auradon City after Princess Jasmine and Prince Aladdin's speech."

She gave a satisfied grunt. She thought he would leave her now that he had shared this news but she felt his gaze on her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. 

She looked at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You killed Jafar."

She stared. "Yeah. He was the enemy. Do Auradonians not kill their enemies?"

"He was your friend's father," he said mildly, "You knew him all your life."

"And you think that matters to me?" she asked, amused.

He shrugged. His gaze was intent on her face. She would've blown him off but she couldn't detect any judgement, only curiosity. A desire to understand. As simple as the issue seemed to her, it was probably inconceivable for King Ben to imagine taking the life of someone he knew well. She sighed and turned so she sat and faced him. 

"There are those on the Isle of the Lost who are too soft for murder, but they hide it," she explained, "They pretend they are one snide comment away from ripping someone's throat out. It's simple self-preservation. But I have never needed to hide or pretend. My mother made sure of that." 

"How?" he asked. 

"How do you think?" her lips parted in a sharp smile, "She led by example. And also gave lessons. When I was maybe, I don't know, seven or eight? She shaved my head so there wasn't a hint of purple and then took me to the slums in the middle of the night and put a knife into my hands. Then she told me to come home and left me there."

King Ben's eyes were very wide despite a marked effort to control his expression. 

"I did come home," she tilted her head, remembering it as she spoke, "And Mother did the same thing the next night. And the next. And the next. Without her protection, every sicko and lunatic seemed to find me. I was hurt countless times, nearly molested twice and once was so badly beaten I couldn't reach home for two days. The lesson ended when I made my first kill."

It had been a frantic, terrified attempt at murder she had somehow managed to pull off. If she hadn't, the boy would've killed her. She raised her left palm. There was a faint scar there where the boy had tried to wrest her knife from her and she had peeled his fingers off it, cutting into herself in the process. After he was dead, she'd stood there, breathing hard and with blood on her hands, no idea where the knife had fallen in the dark alley and wanting home so much it hurt. But she could feel her eyes burning green for the first time. 

She pulled away from her memories and found that King Ben was staring at her scar too, horrified. 

"That's terrible," he breathed. "I'm so sorry."

Mal frowned. "What? Why?"

He shook his head. "No one should have to go through what you did."

She went rigid, disliking his unexpected response and not understanding it at all. "Well I did. And thank the Powers for it. It made me stronger."

"You're saying that killing someone made you better? More capable? That's crazy, Mal," he said and his tone hardened, "Don't try to justify Maleficent's actions. It was inexcusable. It brought you nothing but pain."

She laughed incredulously. "Pain is the only true path to strength. You're saying this war and all that's come with it hasn't toughened you up, your majesty?"

"Pain does make you stronger," he acknowledged, "If it doesn't break you. But it should never be sought out or inflicted on others. That's not strength. That's - "

"Wicked?" she asked with an eyebrow raised mockingly.

"Wrong," he finished, "Very wrong."

"We are about to get into an argument over the pros and cons of good and evil," she said with a lighthearted air, "Neither of us want that, it would go on forever, so let's stop now."

He looked at her, dissatisfied, a wrinkle between his brow. And in his gaze she saw something she'd never seen before, not directed at her at least.

Mal's voice dropped low and lethal. "Don't you dare pity me. And don't try and take away the things that make me who I am. It won't work."

She made to stand and he took hold of her arm and stopped her. Her anger flared higher but she controlled herself. Hitting the king would put her in the stocks, if Agrabah had stocks. 

Finally, King Ben spoke, "I didn't mean to offend you. I only meant...that I'm sorry I couldn't help the little girl who faced such danger. And I'm impressed by the young woman beside me for having survived it."

She stared at him. There were so many layers to what he'd said and she didn't know how to begin deciphering them. She wanted to think no more about it. This entire conversation nettled her. She gave a faint smile and a nod to show no hard feelings. He smiled back. 

There was a pointed cough behind them and it was rife with disapproval. Mal turned her head and was unsurprised to find the Blue Fairy standing there. Mal couldn't look directly at her. Walls of shimmering diamonds were behind the Blue Fairy, crowning and outlining her in dazzling rainbow-tinted light, and coupled with her beauty and opulent dress it elevated her from fairy to imperial goddess. No doubt she was aware of this. Mal made a dismissive noise, like she'd been expecting someone else and was let down.

"Yes?" King Ben asked as he shaded his eyes. 

"I thought your majesty would like to know that the hypnosis victims are greatly improved," the Blue Fairy said smoothly, "Genie's magic has worked wonders."

He exhaled with relief. "That's good news."

"Oh, and Jafar's remains have been taken care of Sire," she stepped closer, "Which reminds me...I've been meaning to ask, Mal, how you managed to defeat him. I didn't see any sign of violence on his body. He appears to have simply dropped dead...as if by magic."

"Details of our victory are on a need to know basis," Mal said, heavy on the hauteur.

The Blue Fairy's wings flitted with indignation and she turned to the king. But he said only, "Thank you for the update, Blue Fairy. I'll go see them myself."

For a moment, Mal thought the Blue Fairy wouldn't accept the dismissal. Then she did a stiff curtsy and stalked away, head held high. 

"You're not going to tell MAAM about The Wand?" Mal asked quietly.

"No. Not yet. They wouldn't understand," he stood and held out a hand for her. She took it and let him pull her up. "I'll see you back in Auradon. Make sure to take one last look at the city you saved."

He grinned and it lit up his whole face. Mal felt heat rising and quickly faced the city, as he'd suggested. When the sound of his footsteps faded she actually did take in the city once more. Jafar's mark would be scrubbed away shortly. Beneath the grime and neglect she could tell it was a unique, beautiful city. 

Agrabah. Maleficent would never get it back, not so long as Mal breathed. It was Ben's. 

And one day, hers.

Chapter Text

Ben walked even though Lonnie's agitation showed she would have preferred they run. He was curious, not worried. The VKs had earned the benefit of the doubt and they'd only been back in Auradon for one day for goodness sake. But his staff had worked themselves into a state and their hysterical descriptions of what was happening on the tourney field didn’t make any sense, so Ben decided to investigate himself and put them at ease.

When he turned a corner and saw the tourney field he stopped dead in his tracks. Lonnie choked a little. Ben bit his lip. If anything, he thought his staff had undersold it. 

There were piles of skulls under canopies of black material and looping strings of intestines. Scarecrows were strapped to poles and their faces were contorted in agony, knives plunged into their straw bellies. Goblins covered in blood chattered with excitement as they continued their work, spreading this madness across the field. Ben frowned, puzzled, and slowly approached. It was the scarecrows that gave the first clue that not everything was as it appeared. The skulls were oddly shaped. Some of them didn't look human and others were as small as rats' heads. Upon closer inspection he discovered they were rocks and stones cleverly painted and charcoaled. He looked at the goblins. All the blood on their skin was fresh and shiny and a bit too red. It was all spectacle.

"What is going on?" Lonnie asked. She sounded at her limit for VK stamped issues.

Two goblins yapped at them to move aside and hurried past with a bundle of sticks and Ben spotted Carlos. He was sitting on the ground and untangling power cords that resembled a gordian knot. When he saw Ben he pointed ahead then went back to his task. Ben took the hint and went to find Mal and Evie.

They were busy too. Evie hummed a tune to herself and picked intestines off the tray she was holding and hung them up, arranging them to her satisfaction. Mal pursed her lips in concentration as she sprayed a fierce Genie-Jafar onto a large corkboard.

He cleared his throat pointedly.

"Ah," Mal grinned, "Have you come to get your hands dirty and help, your majesty?"

"Maybe. If I had any idea what was going on or what you are doing," he said.

"What are those?" Lonnie burst out, pointing at Evie's tray.

"Dough, mixed with pink dye," Evie replied, "I asked the kitchens if they had anything they didn't want and they had some bags of mouldy flour.”

“Everything here is either cast offs or on loan,” Mal told him, “I know how sensitive you are about stealing.”

He didn't say it, but theft was a far preferable crime to what Ben had first thought when he saw all this. At a glance the staging was pretty convincing but he felt guilty for having leapt to a conclusion like his staff had. What had he thought? That the VKs had led a massacre and then decided to revel in the gore right outside the palace?

Evie stepped back and looked at her decorations. “Perfect. Though I would’ve preferred to make cupcakes…still, I can bake them after the stinkerii and they'll be a nice snack for the goblins."

"Stinkerii?" Ben asked.

"A stinkerii is a goblin festival; it celebrates the crushing of particularly nasty enemies and gives goblins an excuse to show off how tough and resourceful they are,” Mal explained without pausing her work.

“I’ve never heard of it.”

She snorted. “The finer points of goblin culture weren’t a part of your education? What a shock.”

"So this is a cultural thing,” he thought aloud. "It's important to them."

"I mean, they don’t have to have one," she said, "But Blibtogs mentioned that there hasn't been a stinkerii since the Isle of the Lost was created and how great it would be if they did do it and...celebrating our victory is just as important as the victory itself."

Ben smiled, surprised and pleased she would take his words to heart. Mal smiled back, sharing in the secret.

"So you decided to do this without asking the king for permission to use his land or equipment?" Lonnie huffed. "What if he doesn't think a goblin party so close to the palace is appropriate?"

Mal's expression lost all its softness and Ben mentally groaned. Lonnie's zeal to protect him and Auradon went too far sometimes.

"What kind of things go on in a stinkerii?" he asked.

"Harmless fun," Evie chimed in, "Just games and dancing and messing around."

"How long does it go for?"

"We'll take it all down tomorrow morning," Mal said flatly.

He gave Lonnie a stern look while he spoke to Mal. "Then you are welcome to use the space."

His captain couldn't hide her disapproval. He ignored her. Evie beamed and began gushing about the costumes that traditionally went with a stinkerii and how she'd love to be able to do justice to them one day. As it was, she had to make do with the materials that could be found in Castle Beast and the palace. It had been her that had applied the fake blood to the goblins. It was considered a crucial part of stinkerii preparations. As she continued talking, Ben watched Mal paint in smooth, confident strokes. The VKs were back in their normal clothes and while he couldn't deny that the scaled leather and long black train suited Mal, it made her look like a villain. Ben wished she'd kept the Agrabah clothes. They'd suited her too and showed off how strikingly pretty she was.

Mal finished and swept her arm out. "Ta da. What do you think?"

He stepped closer. The Genie-Jafar rose from a bed of fire, his eyes glowing yellow with hate and his wickedly clawed hands reaching out to grab someone.

A green target was painted over him, the bullseye where his heart would be.

"Wow," Ben said, "You're really talented. Did the school on the Isle teach you to paint and draw?"

"Can you imagine Em?" Evie tittered, "Gothel or Miss Haggie teaching art?"

"On the Isle, creativity is channeled in less wholesome directions,” Mal explained with a chuckle.

Lonnie crossed her arms and muttered something.

"But you sew and cook?” he questioned Evie.

“There are exceptions to the rule. It depends who your parents are and what’s expected of you. I was raised to believe sewing and cooking and needlework were the only things I’d ever do,” she shrugged.

He looked at Mal. “I imagine artworks weren't expected from Maleficent’s daughter.”

Mal tossed her spray can to a nearby goblin who scrambled to catch it. “What can I say? I’m a rebel through and through.”

There was more to it than that. He could tell there was a story here, but to probe for more right now wouldn’t be received well. “I’ve never doubted that for a second,” he said lightly.

She pointed at him. “You’re learning how to flatter a VK. I’m going to keep my eye on you from now on.”

He gave a small bow. “Lucky me.”

Mal’s face twitched with shock. Evie let out an incredulous laugh and Mal hit her arm. Ben just grinned. He could never have imagined the day when he’d be teasing and joking with Isle kids. But then, he’d fallen in love with one of them and that was even more extraordinary and wonderful.

All other thoughts were chased out of his head and replaced with a four-letter word: Mira. Suddenly he was drunk with the idea of her. He opened his mouth to ask where she was before he clicked it shut, remembering Lonnie’s presence. He struggled to think rationally through the thick fog of perfect, golden love. If he singled out Mira in front of Lonnie or any of his other friends, they’d wonder why he was paying special attention to her. And Mira had said that was to be avoided absolutely or she’d be forced from his side.

Ben bit his lip, heart pounding in his chest. He ached for her. What he wanted most was to declare her his for the whole world to hear. The words threatened to burst out of him right then and there.

“Sire?” Lonnie’s expression was concerned, “Are you all right? You’re a bit pale.”

He realized that Mal and Evie were staring at him too. He mentally shook himself and the need for Mira faded a little. He forced a smile and assured them he was fine. Lonnie might not have accepted that if her attention wasn’t caught by something behind him. He turned. A palace servant was spinning on the spot, searching frantically. When she saw Ben, her expression filled with relief and she ran to him. Alarm sprang up and seized him and a hundred scenarios whirled before his eyes.

“What’s happened?” he cried.

She hesitated. Then stepped close and whispered in his ear.

He sighed deeply as the servant leaned back and watched him with sad, anxious eyes.

“Well?” Mal demanded.

“I’ll come at once,” he addressed the servant before facing Mal, all business, “Forgive me, I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere. If I have time to attend the stinkerii, I will.”

“Is it Maleficent? Has she done something?”

“What hasn’t she done?” Ben snapped. As quickly as the anger came it went and he sighed again. “Nothing’s happened. Nothing we haven’t been expecting, though that doesn’t make it any easier. Please, I have to go. I’ll explain later Mal.”

Then he strode away and didn’t care what it looked like when he broke into a run.

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“I’ll wait here,” Lonnie said, “It’s you he asked to see.”

“I don’t know what to say to him,” Ben confided quietly, “I’ve never…”

He’d never been at someone’s deathbed; he’d never got the chance with his father. What should he say? His mother would know. He was unequipped for this.

“Say…whatever comforts him,” Lonnie said.

He nodded. He gripped the doorknob and slowly opened the door. There were three nurses inside, but they weren’t doing anything. They sat on the other side of the room and watched their patient with resignation. The Blue Fairy stood at the foot of the hospital bed like a guardian angel. But by the look she threw Ben, he knew no miracle would fix this. No spell. No wish. Some things couldn’t be stopped or healed with magic.

Ben looked at where Merlin lay and knew that this was the wizard's last day.

Before the war, he’d only met the fabled wizard a handful of times. But Merlin always left an impression. He remembered the first meeting with crystal-clear clarity even though he’d only been six years old. The wizard had been wearing robes that changed colors at odd moments and were brilliantly patterned with suns, stars and crescent moons. But it was the person inside that intrigued and mystified, with his penetrating gaze, razor-sharp wit and the deep, rumbling laugh that could uproot even the most hardened tension in a room.

That first meeting, Merlin had knelt before Ben and plucked a hair from the young prince’s head. Ben startled, confused and a little upset. Smiling, Merlin waved his plain oaken staff and the strand of hair lengthened and morphed. Ben stared, engrossed. In seconds, Merlin was holding a wooden flute the exact same shade as Ben’s hair and he offered it the prince. Ben had thanked him politely while inside he was disappointed. Couldn’t it have transformed into a sword instead?

“Go on dear boy,” Merlin had said, eyes twinkling, “Try it out.”

Ben put his lips to the flute and blew. Around them the roar of a lion cascaded like thunder and he yelped and dropped the flute, whipping around for the source of the noise. Merlin had slapped his knee and laughed and had to play the flute himself before Ben believed that the delicate instrument was the cause. Ben took back the flute cautiously. He blew softer than before and the flute copied a lion’s low menacing growl. To his delight, he found that the placement of his fingers over the other holes changed what beast the sound belonged to. One position brought out a dragon’s screech. He moved his fingers again and sent out the throaty scream of a wild boar. A bellowing bear. A snarling wolf. Ben looked up at Merlin in wonder.

Merlin winked. “A gift to stir courage whenever in need. Remember, you are not only the prince, but the son of a formidable beast.”

Now, Ben looked down at a different man. Only wispy patches of gray hair were left on Merlin’s head, his long beard had fallen out a while ago. He was over a thousand years old and yet his nut-brown skin was mottled with age spots that hadn’t been there before the war. An oxygen tube was hooked onto his ears and ran under his nose to help him breathe. He looked as fragile as a hatchling. He looked like any other dying old man.

The Blue Fairy came to Ben and whispered. “He doesn’t have long. He was adamant he wanted to speak with you, but I’m not sure how…how lucid he is.”

It was unnerving to see grief crinkling her face. She was normally so composed. Ben went so far as to squeeze her hand. She had known the wizard for an age.

“You don’t have to be here,” he offered gently.

Lip quivering, she straightened and shook her head. “It’s my duty.”

A groan came from Merlin and Ben hurried to his side.

The wizard’s eyes snapped open. “Who is that? Who’s there?”

“It’s me, sir. King Ben. You sent for me?”

“Ben!” Merlin’s voice was a rasp, as if he hadn’t spoken in years. He gazed about, noticing the Blue Fairy before finding Ben. “Yes, yes, dear boy. Come here. I want…I need to speak to you.”

Ben drew close and Merlin clasped his hand and held him desperately. “My boy. I have let you down. I’ve let everyone down. Camelot. Camelot!”

“Maleficent was too strong. You did everything you could,” Ben said. “It was not your fault – “

“My fault!” Merlin cried as if Ben had branded him with the words, “Yes! I should never, never have…oh my poor boy. I wish I could fix things. I believed that my magic was destined to save the world for as long as I lived. What a fool I was. Arrogant, blind fool.”

Ben was distressed to see tears sliding down the wizard’s worn cheeks. He clasped Merlin’s hand tight in both of his. “Merlin, listen. Maleficent is not invincible. We’ve liberated Agrabah, did they tell you that? I promise you, one day soon we will take Camelot back.”

Merlin looked at him in despair. “But she was never meant to get this far. You should’ve defeated her long ago.”

Ben flinched and let go of him. The words were like a blow to the gut. He felt sick. Merlin reached for him, crying his name. Next to him the heartbeat monitor’s green line zipped up and down erratically. The Blue Fairy approached and Merlin recoiled from her, leaning as far away as possible until she placed a damp cloth on his brow. He exhaled at the touch of it and relaxed, sinking deeper into his bed.

“I’m sorry,” Ben choked out.

Merlin had trouble refocusing on him. “Be better than me Ben. Please…be better…”

Ben would’ve said anything now, agreed to anything, to reassure this broken man. “I will sir. I promise. Please don’t worry. You can rest in peace.”

“No. Not peace. Not after…Camelot. My beautiful, beautiful Camelot…”

His breathing deepened and his eyes fluttered shut. Ben stood by his side, watching his chest go up and down until the Blue Fairy touched his shoulder.

“You may leave, Sire. He probably won’t wake again,” she said.

“I want to stay until the end.”

“It could be hours.”

“So be it.”

He brought in Lonnie and they joined the nurses in their vigil. Eventually, Chad came to replace her and he sat by Ben’s side. Chad stared at the wizard and Ben pretended not to notice the sniffles that escaped him. Merlin’s laboured breathing was the only sound in the room. The Blue Fairy kept to her post by his bedside, wetting the cloth in a bowl of water before going back again and again to wipe his brow. She was right, Merlin never woke up.

He took another ragged breath…and that was it. He was gone. The Blue Fairy let out a cry and turned away to face the wall. Ben and Chad stood. The nurses went over and exchanged solemn glances before turning off the machines, removing the tubes and wires and lifting the sheet to cover his head. Chad unsheathed his sword, drew its point down and fell to one knee. He bowed his head, a last gesture of deep respect for the wizard from a knight of Camelot.

Ben closed his eyes and sent a prayer to the Powers. Merlinus Wyllt deserved peace. Please, let him have it.

His mother found him in his bedroom later and he finally allowed himself to fall apart. They sat on his bed and she hugged him as he cried, rubbing soothing circles on his back like she used to when he was a boy. He wanted to tell her what Merlin had said about his failure to stop Maleficent. But he knew her response would be so kind and comforting, and right now he didn’t feel he deserved it.

He pulled back and wiped away his tears. “I need to go and see my speech writers.”

“No, Ben,” Belle murmured, “Don’t do that.”

“The announcement must be made tonight.”

“Auradon cannot know he died.”

He blinked. “What?”

“It’s not what the people need right now,” Belle smoothed his hair. “You have just renewed their hopes and lifted them up. Merlin’s death would only wound them and strengthen the Enemy.”

Ben stared at her, not believing what he was hearing. “Merlin was a great man. A legend. His death must be marked; his life should be honoured.”

“We can count our losses and mourn properly when the war is won. For now, we must carry on. I know it seems cruel. But it’s the only way.”

“You want me to lie?”

“Consider your timing, that’s all,” she said.

He stood with a groan. “Come on Mom! What do you want me to do? Bury Merlin in our back garden?”

She pursed her lips. “Of course not. Merlin would wish to be buried in Camelot, so we’d have to find a place for his body to be temporarily interred anyway. It’s a simple matter of…”

“Concealing the truth from everybody?” he accused, his disgust clear.

Belle gaze measured him. “As you concealed your mission into Agrabah?”

“That was different,” he said and then winced. He sounded like a guilty child.

“You kept it secret and went ahead even though it meant lying to your guard, your council, your mother…everyone you care for.”

“I had to. For the kingdom,” Ben said.

 She gave him a look.

He made an exasperated noise and looked out the window. He thought it over, twisting his golden beast ring on his finger. Reluctantly, he nodded. “For the record, I hate this. I really hate it. But…I guess you’re right. I’m not sure Auradon could handle any more grief.”

She went to him and kissed his forehead. “When it’s all over, we’ll do right by him. He’ll be remembered as he should be.”

Would Merlin resent him for this? Would it make it harder for the wizard to find peace? Ben was so tired. He wanted to have a shower, a three-hour nap and then laze on the couch and watch a movie with not a single explosion or a hint of magic in it. If only.

He noticed his mom's expression, like she had more to say.

“I’ve spoken with MAAM and Fairy Godmother,” she said, almost guiltily, “They have concerns. And so do I.”

“About?”

“Ben…we think you are trusting these children too quickly.”

He stepped back, not wanting to hear this, but she cut him off before he could stop her.

“You put your life in their hands in Agrabah and had no one but Aziz to protect you.”

“You just agreed that the mission was the right thing to do!” he argued.

“Yes, it was,” she said quietly, “My heart nearly stopped when I was told what you did, but I understand why you did it. Trusting the Isle children paid off this time. But what about the next? They clearly have their own agenda Ben and I don’t want you to lose sight of that. You can’t trust them.”

His mother was wrong. He thought of Mira and was overwhelmed again. It happened at the most inconvenient times. His love for her would strike him, make his soul quiver, when he was in a council meeting or speaking in front of cameras or when he was trying to fall asleep. Each time he’d yearn to share his feelings with someone. But looking at his mother now, he was terrified. He couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t tell anyone. Mira had spoken the truth; the world wouldn’t understand, not yet. The VKs had to continue earning goodwill, continue helping them win the war and, like this new secret with Merlin, when it was all over then Ben could be honest. Then he’d find relief.

Belle was frowning as she scrutinised his expression. To hide his face, he hugged her.

“I’ll be careful Mom. Believe me - I know what I’m doing.”

Chapter Text

At first, the Auradonians investigated only to determine if their king was right, and that the VKs were doing some goblin ritual that was bizarre, certainly, but also toothless. They were the cooks, the maids, the secretaries and guards, the people that were vital to the royal palace and Castle Beast. Looking at the fake blood and skulls, the gloomy tents and unrepentant black décor, they grimaced and muttered to each other.

Night fell. Strings of colored lights winding through the tents and lighting up the field were a lure to come back, to go in deeper. And they did. The Auradonians still muttered, but they also found things to intrigue and amuse. The goblins – creatures they’d only seen on documentaries – were acting like children at the party of their lives. The VKs were painted like warriors with bold symbols on their faces and hands but they were laughing and joking around with each other.

And then the music started, blasting through the speakers on the tourney field’s old sound system. The Auradonians were surprised to recognize their music and their own songs, mixed with heavier beats and wild, foreign undertones. Perhaps it was the novelty of it, or a need for catharsis after a hell of a week, or perhaps there was a rebel deep down in them all. Whatever the reasons, nearly everybody in the royal palace and Castle Beast was drawn to the stinkeri that night.

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Jay squashed the paper cup and tossed it, annoyed his drink was finished already. To get another, he squirmed his way through the dancefloor that had sprung up. The beat pulsed and the dancers wooed and moved their bodies, laughing at themselves and where they were. Goblins were amongst them, hopping from foot to foot and flailing their arms in what was supposed to be an intimidating war dance.

Jay didn’t feel like dancing. He’d lost track of Carlos a while ago and only wanted to drink. A table was overflowing with punch bowls, jugs and bottles, and anyone who knew Evie could recognise her handiwork – there were drinks of all different colors and consistency. He dipped a cup into a bowl and the green liquid was thick as molasses so he quickly abandoned that one and left the cup to slowly sink and be absorbed. He took an experimental sip of an ultra-bubbly pink drink. It was salty and tasted like beef. Jay shook his head. How did the girl do it?

He retreated with his drink into a dark corner. Before, he had entertained himself by shooting flaming arrows and hitting some scarecrows set up on the bleachers. Maybe he’d inspired them because he watched the Auradonians taking up the bows now and sending arcs of light across the field, awwing when they missed and shrieking when they miraculously grazed a scarecrow and set its ghastly figure alight. Back on the Isle, this party would’ve been considered pathetically tame. It was funny that the Auradonians seemed to think it was a howler.

“Does that stuff on your skin mean something or is it just to make you look pretty?”

Jay was taken aback to find Aziz beside him holding a drink of his own. Aziz’s stance was casual and the question was friendly. Jay traced the symbols on his face, the arrowhead over his eye and the double lines over his lips.

“I’m always pretty,” he chuckled, “The ladies love me, in makeup and out.”

Aziz snorted. “Sure.”

“But we should doll you up. The paint marks us out as guests of honor, witnesses to the goblins great deeds in battle.”

Aziz cocked his head. “What deeds would those be?”

Jay shrugged. “Haven’t a clue. There’s going to be some kind of award ceremony later so we might find out. Maybe they’ll hand out medals for ‘dirtiest graffiti’ and ‘last to faint in the desert’.”

Jay sipped his drink. Aziz drank his own then immediately gagged and scrunched up his face. “That,” he said, “is disgusting.”

“That’s how Isle folk like their liquor,” Jay smirked, “You’re lucky Evie didn’t have time to make fizz. It would eat through these cups.”

Aziz’s eye stopped twitching. He held his drink slightly away from himself, maybe in case it bit him. “You know, I’m surprised you’re here.”

“What you mean?”

“Isn’t it weird to be at a festival that celebrates…”

“…my dad’s death?” Jay asked.

Aziz nodded, watching him.

Jay didn’t know how to answer. He shrugged nonchalantly. It was pretty weird, but he hadn’t said as much to his friends. They wouldn’t get it. He’d dreamed of getting revenge on his dad, of coming out on top but now that it had happened….

“He was a total asshole,” Jay said roughly when the silence got to him, “I’m glad he’s gone.”

“I am too. Still. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry things turned out the way it did. That really sucks.”

Jay stared at him. He didn’t know what to say to that either, especially since it was coming from Agrabah’s future prince – the person who should be the most exultant about Jafar’s death. “What are you even doing here? Won’t you get in trouble with your captain for fraternizing with VKs and goblins and shit?”

Aziz scratched his neck, not meeting his eye. “She won’t be thrilled. But you know, I’ve been thinking…maybe I haven’t given you guys enough credit. We all thought releasing you was a big mistake. But you’re here now and…it’s like the king said. My father was a street rat. He only needed the opportunity to make something of himself, and that’s why you’re here right? To try and have a better life?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jay said, “I guess.”

Aziz smiled and saluted with his cup. “Then I’m rooting for you man.” He downed his drink and proceeded to cough violently and hit his chest. “Seriously, what is that stuff?”

“You get a buzz, that’s all I know,” Jay said.

“Okay, I have to get rid of the taste in my mouth,” Aziz shuddered, “It’s a life or death situation. Want to come to the kitchens with me? I might be able to resurrect your taste buds with some good Auradon food.”

Jay realized that burning effigies of his father and throwing darts at his head was not something he was going to enjoy, no matter how drunk he got. He rose his eyebrow Aziz. “Doubt it. But I do wanna see the fluffy buttery things you guys eat to make you so damn soft.”

Aziz took Jay’s drink from him and clapped him on the shoulder as they walked. “We like our stomach lining intact, it’s true.”

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Dizzy wandered through the stinkeri, not really knowing why she was there and hadn’t stayed in the castle. She liked looking at the Auradonians and how when she smiled at them, they smiled back. But it was like Mal had cut a small piece out of the Isle of the Lost and dropped it into Auradon. It was so familiar. Dizzy should hate it. She would fight tooth and nail if anyone tried to make her go back to the Isle. Yet in amidst the shadowy tents, gruesome props and wanton fun, she felt a part of herself unwind. Okay, fine. Maybe she was the tiniest, teensiest bit homesick. It didn’t mean anything.

“Behold the cleverness of goblin kind, our quick hands and sneaking feet, that caused the end of Jafar,” a goblin declared, cackling.

Beneath a stretch of canopy, Dizzy and others stopped to watch a line of seven goblins get wrapped in chains by their fellows. The goblin who had spoken watched the people around him smugly, gratified by their attention, and waved a stick around like a ringmaster in a circus. The chains were wound so tight around the goblins that their eyes bulged even more than they normally did. They might’ve also turned greener but it was hard to tell. The goblin leader barked an order and padlocks secured the chains. Dizzy bit her lip. Goblins weren’t the brightest bunch and she was worried.

In unison, goblins beat the ground with sticks in a heavy thump thump thump. The chained goblins squirmed, most falling down and writhing around. Dizzy didn’t see how they could get free without help. They were encased as snugly as a worm in a cocoon. The people beside her shifted uneasily. Bits of dirt flew as the tempo of the sticks increased.

Amazingly, one goblin’s arm popped out of the wrap of chains. It contorted toward one of the padlocks and a claw hooked into keyhole and wriggled around. The padlock snapped open. The other goblins also managed to get bits of themselves free, an arm or a foot or just a single ingrown toenail. The goblins all opened the locks and became slippery as eels, twisting and wriggling out of their bonds until the chains just slid off. Hollering with triumph, they held the chains up and shook them like maniacs.

There was polite applause around her; Dizzy clapped heartily. All her life she had thought the only thing goblins were good at was selling stale instant coffee at exorbitant prices.

Next, she went into a large tent and stumbled upon a goblin awards ceremony. There weren’t many Auradonians inside, but Dizzy took a seat in the circle of chairs, curious. Captain Blibtogs stood alone on a small stage, hands on his hips and staring at the many goblins packed below.

“Maggots,” he addressed them affectionately, “In Agrabah you did your captain, our horrible queen and the rest of goblin kind proud. That is why we have this stinkeri tonight. Because even when staring death in the face, all of you were nasty and tough as troll balls.”

The goblins preened at this high compliment.

Blibtogs hoisted his pants further up his big belly with an air of authority. “So as the best captain you’ve ever had - ”

“You’re the only captain we’ve ever had,” a voice piped up, confused.

Blibtogs ignored this. “I want to single out who was better than the rest, so none of you get into your head to start being lazy. As a reward to the winners, I, Captain Blibtogs, will give a traditional manuera.”

There was happy chatter at this. Blibtogs waved his hand for silence. He looked at them gravely. “Chibtrunk.”

A goblin whooped and scrambled onto the stage.

“Chibtrunk, your drawing of Jafar in the square was so revolting, so totally uncalled for that it made me sick to look at,” Blibtogs put his hands on the goblin’s shoulders, “Well done.”

Then he slammed his forehead into Chibtrunk’s. Dizzy jumped and the other people in the tent gasped. Chibtrunk’s head had snapped back at the force of the blow and he wobbled unsteadily. Then the goblin grinned and thanked his captain before strutting off the stage.

Blibtogs hoisted his pants again. “Zigpuss.”

The next goblin went to his captain reluctantly. He was in a sorry state. He wasn’t painted in fake blood like the others; an angry redness covered his skin and striped across his gray face as if he’d been dragged across gravel.

“Zigpuss, your sun rash is a badge of courage,” Blibtogs proclaimed, “No one has suffered, and continues to suffer, for our cause more than you.”

Zigpuss grunted in agreement. Then he scrunched up his face and stood very still, dreading the coming blow. Blibtogs headbutted him. Zigpuss moaned and shook his head. He mumbled his thanks and slinked back to his brethren.

Blibtogs kept calling names and goblins went up to have their actions praised and honoured, each one receiving a strong headbutt. Dizzy noticed how the Auradonians stared, offended, and yet they were transfixed and unable to leave.

“Ssssssuugggnirk,” Blibtogs groaned.

There was a moment of silence. “Wha was that?” a goblin called out.

Blibtogs blinked his eyes rapidly. He rubbed his face and tried again. “Sssssuggkirt.”

The goblins turned to each other. “Is he saying Zugdirt or Slugkirk?”

“Which is it?” a goblin pleaded to know.

Blibtogs swayed.

Dizzy stood up and clapped her hands once. “All righty, the awards part of the evening is over. Thank you everyone for coming, please be careful on your way out.”

The goblins grumbled as she made her way through them and took Blibtogs’s arm. He struggled feebly to break away but she dragged him from the stage and out of the tent. She found a spot where he could sit and gently pushed him down.

“What did you do that for?” Blibtogs slurred and squinted up at her. Suddenly he gasped. “Your Majesty!” He threw himself at her feet.

“Huh?” Dizzy stared.

“I am not worthy Mistress,” he grovelled, “Your foulness, your spitefulness…”

“Oh,” she adjusted her glasses, sighing and bringing him back up to his feet. “I’m not Mal. You have a concussion. Or several. Evie says boys get them all the time.”

“I’m not a boy. I’m a guplin. Gobtin,” Blibtogs thought hard about the word and moved his lips slowly. “Goblin.”

“I know.”

“I live to serve.”

“Okay. But like I said – “

He looked at her again and jerked back, aghast. “You’re not my queen!”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” she said patiently.

“Wait,” he strained his eyes, “You’re one of hers though aren’t you?”

“I’m from the Isle,” Dizzy shrugged. “So yeah.”

He latched onto her, peering up into her face. “Please, tell me, is the queen mad at me?”

“Why would Mal be mad at you?”

“I don’t know!” Blibtogs wailed.

He slumped to the ground, covering his face. Dizzy knelt beside him and petted his back. “Hey, hey. It’s all right. Please don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

He snorted back the snot that had dribbled out. “The queen didn’t say anything about Agrabah. Did she like my work? I don’t know. Does…does she think I don’t yell at my troops enough? I don’t know, I don’t know. I don’t get any traditional manueras from her…”

“I don’t think your head could take another manuera,” Dizzy said.

“She’s the bestest best Mistress ever,” he blubbered, “I want to make her happy.”

She squeezed him into a side hug. “It is not your fault if that doesn’t happen. I’m not sure Mal can even do happy. It’s pretty hard to imagine.”

“I was born to make it happen. My father served Maleficent. His father served Maleficent. My great-grandfather served Maleficent. My great-great grandfather was killed by Maleficent’s mother when he took a piss in her rose bushes.”

“You must be very proud,” Dizzy said although the lilt at the end made it more of a question.

He nodded then stopped abruptly, cradling his head and groaning.

Dizzy patted his back again. “What about this stinkeri? It must mean Mal’s pleased with you. Why else would she allow it?”

Blibtog looked hopeful. “You really think so?”

“Of course. Mal doesn’t do anything without a reason. She may not say it, but I’m sure she’s pleased with you.”

She wasn’t sure of any such thing, really. Mal was the angriest person Dizzy knew and for someone who grew up on the Isle with the Wicked Stepmother that was saying something. But she was glad to see her words cheering up Blibtogs. 

Dizzy giggled to herself. Reassuring a punch-drunk goblin that he’s a badass little minion: it was typical Isle craziness she may or may not have missed.

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Carlos nearly ran into him. The poor guy was standing there like a statue, gaze fixed on the press of dancing people. His eyes were very wide behind his glasses and his mouth was hanging open.

“I know that look,” Carlos told him, speaking up to be heard above the music.

The dude tore his gaze away and focused on Carlos with heavy blinking, as if waking from a dream. “Huh?”

“You’ve been Eviefied. Or struck on the head with a blunt heavy object.”

The stranger stared at him, uncomprehending.

“You’ve crossed paths with Evie Grimhilde,” Carlos explained.

“That’s her name?” the guy went back to gawking at a dancing Evie. She didn’t throw herself around like others did. She was sensual, graceful, and at the same time, unleashed.  “Evie…”

Carlos looked him up and down. He looked like a guy who was born to be beaten up. He wore neat shoes, square framed glasses, a checkered shirt buttoned right up to the collar and a bow tie. And Maleficent, were those suspenders?

“You do know she’s a VK, right?” Carlos asked.

“Is she?” Doug murmured absently. “Okay.”

Carlos shook his head in exasperation. Yeah, Evie was gorgeous. But he had always been a bit disgusted with her admirers for being hooked so quickly. He may be biased because she’d always been like a big sister to him, but still. These guys didn’t even know her.

As if reading his mind, the stranger seized Carlos shoulders and made him yelp. “Hey, you’re dressed weird and look kind of scary.”

Carlos stared at him. “Thanks?”

“You’re a VK too right? You know her?”

“She’s one of my best friends.”

The guy lit up with excitement. “You’ve got to tell me about her.”

Carlos shrugged his hands off. “I don’t have to do anything.”

It was the stranger’s turn to examine Carlos then he glanced thoughtfully around him. “Someone had to get the sound system working again. Couldn’t have been easy. It hasn’t been used in years and twenty per cent of its components have been taken out. You’re the one who turned it on, aren’t you?”

It actually had been easy once he bypassed what was missing. “So what?” Carlos asked.

“If you like technology, then I’m the guy you should talk to around here,” he held out his hand, “My name’s Doug.”

Warily, Carlos told him his name and gave him a fist bump.

Doug winced and shook out his hand. “There’s a lot of cool tech in the palace and Castle Beast. If you want, I can give you access and teach you how it works.”

“And in return?” Carlos asked, crossing his arms.

Doug laughed. “No strings attached. I’m not going to force you or anything. But maybe after I prove I’m a good guy, you’ll help me out with your friend?”

Carlos thought about it. He could’ve told Doug that he was already in the second stage of Dating Evie Grimhilde.

Stage 1: Desire – when you want her more than you’ve wanted anything in your life.

Stage 2: Bargaining – when you do crazy things to try and win her, steal something she likes, murder someone she hates and/or generally make a fool of yourself.

Stage 3: Indulgence – when she gives herself and you’re on cloud nine, revelling in her, dying of happiness.

Stage 4: Torment – when she pulls away and you don’t know why. Desperate and wounded, you fight to get her back.

Stage 5: Heartbreak

Carlos could’ve told Doug this and much more about how stupid it was to fall in love with Evie. But he didn’t. He pitied the dude, but this was a tragedy-in-the-making he had seen a hundred times before. And he really did want a look at that tech.

“I can already tell you’re a good guy,” Carlos said. “You’ve got a deal.”

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Mal tried not to frown. Her frown tended to scare people and she was surrounded by Auradonians she’d spent hours making nice with. The stinkeri had turned into an excellent chance to inch herself further into Auradon’s favor. These were Ben’s underlings and trusted servants, sworn to secrecy about the VKs' presence; winning them over was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. So she had supervised the dart throwing, the corpse look-alike contest and the blood balloon fight to make sure everyone was having fun. It was exhausting.

She had never liked parties. That couldn’t be overstated. Mal did. Not. Like parties. Maleficent had instilled a deep disdain for them in her daughter and even now when she was out of her influence Mal couldn’t bring herself to reevaluate the issue. Parties were an excuse to let out your most obnoxious, moronic self on the pretence of “having fun”. Throughout history, parties had been used to exclude anyone who was different or unpopular. Parties never failed to make Mal feel alone.

Having earned a break, she went looking for her friends. She’d become separated from them soon after the stinkeri took off and finding them was proving difficult. Her goblins were enjoying themselves so much that it’d be useless to send them to search; they’d forget their orders within a dozen steps.

Someone bumped into her and she stumbled. The man responsible turned to her. “Oh, sorry about that.”

Mal grinned wide. “Not a problem.”

The man blanched. His friend took his arm and they bolted like spooked rabbits.

She sighed and scanned for a familiar face. Where was Evie? Or Jay and Carlos? Hell, she’d be happy to talk to Gil at this point.

The dancefloor was packed and if Evie was there Mal couldn’t spot her. She retreated from the sweaty, whooping mass of people in disgust and began looking through the tents. Most of them had a quiet group inside who were talking and lounging and drinking but none of them were her people, and they gave her startled looks that were not an invitation to linger.

Frustrated, she ripped open the flap of the next tent and stomped inside.

There was a split-second delay before Ben and Uma sprang apart in which Mal saw everything. His arms had been around Uma and his lips locked with hers in a passionate embrace. Her hands had been under his shirt and gliding over the sculpted contours of his abs. His eyes had been closed in bliss.

Uma and Ben looked at her and Mal couldn’t read their expressions because the afterimage of their make-out session was burning on her retinas.

“Mal,” Ben managed to get out as he tucked in his shirt. “Uh. Hi.”

Mal blinked until she could see clearly again. “Hi.”

Uma smiled lazily and wiggled her fingers in a small wave. “Hi.”

Mal glared at her. “You know, anyone could’ve walked in here. You’re lucky it was me.”

Uma pressed herself into Ben’s side. She kept her eyes on Mal and slowly tipped her head up and licked the shell of his ear. “So, so lucky.”

Ben blushed even harder than he already was and stammered unintelligibly.

Mal looked away. “I’m trying to find Evie. Seen her?”

“Nope. I’ve been distracted,” Uma purred.

Mal nodded once and then swept open the tent and went back outside. She took one step and didn’t take another. Those passing by gave her a wide berth, the devil only knew what look was on her face. She felt jittery and on edge. Like a thief before a heist. She didn’t know why.

She only knew that she really hated parties.

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Evie wrapped the music around her body and made it part of herself as she arched her back and stretched her arms to the starry sky. She shook her hips just a little and felt a dozen eyes drawn to their swaying. She didn’t dance to attract attention. She truly loved it. Dancing to wicked tunes with her naked feet on the grass was like endorphins injected directly into her bloodstream. But she didn’t curse the attention either. Bouncing, writhing bodies drew closer to her and sought to pin her down but she didn’t let them succeed. She fought for her space while making it appear that it came to her by accident, that her lithe, twisting body couldn’t be touched and they could only surround her in an adoring, protective circle and watch.

With a flick of her head she flipped her hair back in a dramatic sweep of blue. Her gaze raked over the dancers and pulled them all under her spell. Then she closed her eyes. She felt them longing for her to reopen them, to look at them again. Her lips parted in the faintest smile as she danced with tantalising promise, with the elusiveness of smoke and the infectious thrill of moving under the bare moon.

When she opened her eyes again, she was caught by a handsome, scarred face across the dancefloor. Her heart leapt. She stopped dancing abruptly and squeezed past the dancers before they could think to detain her, the last of the glamor vanishing when she nearly tripped on a goblin doing a jig.

Chad Charming was standing next to the drinks table, scowling at the cup he held.

“I know,” she laughed, “It’s not very good is it?”

He looked at her. His eyes narrowed. “What?”

She ignored his harsh tone and continued lightly. “The drinks. They’re terrible. I know because I made them. I can make tons of delicious things but unfortunately that’s not how my friends like it.”

“There’s alcohol in it isn’t there?” Chad asked.

“Well yes – “

He sculled the drink. Then he turned to the table to pour another one. Evie ran her fingers through her hair.

“Aren’t you going to dance?” she asked.

“No,” he answered as if the idea was offensive. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Definitely not. I’ve been dancing all night and I was just getting bored. Then I saw you.”

She ran a hand down her sticky neck and lingered between the valley of her breasts. She tingled with satisfaction when his eyes went down. Her hand went to play with her heart-shaped necklace as if that had been what she was aiming for. She smiled, acting oblivious to his leering.

“You don’t mind if I hang out here, do you?” she asked.

He made a noise of irritation but didn’t argue with her. He drank and she studied him. His curly blonde hair flopped adorably into his face a bit and his eyes were a dreamy blue. Even with the scar he was very attractive.

He sensed her staring. “What?” he snapped.

She reached for an excuse. “I was wondering if you’re okay. It’s a beautiful night but you don’t look like you’re feeling it.”

His expression darkened. “It’s not beautiful. It’s one of the worst nights of my life, of everyone’s lives. They just don’t know it.”

And he turned his face away, hiding the tears that threatened to spill. Evie could’ve pumped her fist in the air. This she could work with.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she rubbed his arm, voice low and sympathetic, “Tell me what’s the matter.”

“Nothing. Forget it,” he sniffed.

“I want to help.”

He looked at her. “Help…me?”

“Yes. I’m not so bad once you get to know me. I’d like to be your friend Chad.”

“I’d like that too,” he said.

She was taken aback by his sudden smile. “Really?”

He faced her fully. Without the scowl he was so handsome it made her lick her lips. “Yeah. I think it’s a great idea. I could use a friend like you.”

“Really?” she said again, giggling, “Well…thank you. You’ve made my night.”

“No, princess,” Chad said as he took her hand, bent down and pressed the lightest of kisses on her knuckles. “You’ve made my night.”

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The night was almost over. Most had gone home already and there was no music now. Harry Hook hadn’t been impressed by the Auradon party spirit. If they’d cut loose properly there would be bodies on the field right now, some passed out, some not…

Drinking from a bottle he’d scavenged, he sat on the bleachers and watched the beginnings of sunrise with a burnt out husk of a scarecrow on one side of him and Gil on the other. The scarecrow was the better company.

“Do you think she likes him?” Gil asked.

Harry tipped his head back, preparing to be annoyed. “Who are yer on about?”

“You know,” Gil insisted.

He did, but Hook wasn’t going to admit it. “No. Who?”

Gil leaned in very close, “The king and…” he winked hard, “Mira.”

“Don’t be daft,” Hook rolled his eyes. “She’s just using him, you know that.”

“He’s a handsome guy.”

“Then you date him.”

“I can’t. She is.”

Hook glowered. He knew he should’ve pushed Gil off a cliff ages ago.

“He’s a king too. Rich and powerful,” Gil looked down at his hands sadly, “After the war she could marry him and become queen of Auradon. Have you thought about that?”

“No,” Hook ground out, “Because it’s a ridiculous idea that only a dimwit like you could come up with. She doesn’t want to be a queen. She wants to sail the seas.” With me, he silently added. But what Gil said snarled at him, refusing to be dismissed so easily. He turned a hard eye onto Gil. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“I just see the way the king looks at her sometimes…it makes me feel seasick. You know how I get seasick; my hands shake, I sweat a lot and can’t see straight…”

“You are the worst pirate in the world,” Hook said, “Have I told you that?”

“Oh yeah, loads. Anyway, I think that if she’s going to be with anyone…it should be us, don’t you think?”

Hook frowned. “You mean…us, like both of us? Together?”

Gil looked stunned. His mouth flopped open and shut. “No. I didn’t. I mean…that’d still be better than the king right? If – if that’s what she wanted, then…”

“Shut up,” Hook told him. “Right now.”

Gil clamped his lips together. Hook nearly bit off the neck of the bottle as he took a vicious swig of his drink. Thunderclouds were in his head, hostility with no outlet.

“Can I say one more thing?” Gil whispered out the side of his mouth.

Hook hung his head.

“Mal’s got this big plan. And I’m worried Mira is getting too caught up in it. You know how she gets with Mal. The way I see it, this war has nothing to do with us. You and I just need to get her onto a ship and then she’ll see that. We can sail away and not have to worry about the war or Maleficent or the king.”

Hook looked at him in some surprise. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“All my thoughts are about her,” Gil said quietly.

“Explains why yer so stupid,” he muttered too low for Gil to hear.

The sky was turning from black to bruised purple and blue. Hook reclined and stretched his arms out to either side, feeling the cold metal dig into his back. He clicked his tongue. Finally, he spoke. “If there's a chance to take her from the king and bail, then we’ll do it. But I decide when. You are too seasick to do it and she can’t find out what we’re thinking. If she figures out we’re interfering she’ll skin us alive.”

Gil nodded enthusiastically and promised to follow his lead. Hook smirked. Now that he had half a plan, he was feeling better.

He was completely unaware that Lonnie had been standing under the bleachers, listening to the whole thing.

Chapter Text

Mal acknowledged that early morning was not when the VKs operated at their best. They were night creatures. That’s when they did their best plotting. But Auradonians were the opposite, so the VKs - except for Dizzy, who was blissfully unaware of any of it - had crawled out of bed and dragged themselves to a conference room at four thirty in the AM.

On one side of a glass table stood the VKs. Gil was upright except for a drooped head. His eyes were closed and he was making tiny humming sounds; it was possible he was asleep. Uma, heavy-lidded and thin-lipped, was looking a little piratey around the edges. A big yawn escaped Jay and rolled about the room.

Ben’s entire guard were on the other side of the table, completely indifferent to the VKs suffering and alert as hunting dogs. None of them we’re being left out of the mission this time.

At the head of the table, Jane typed into a console and the glass surface of the table lit up. A world map appeared showing all civilized lands, from the southernmost point of History Island all the way up to the untameable, brutal northern land of Faraway. Carlos made a sound of appreciation and leaned in closer. When he put his hand down on the table the map zoomed in and the winding rivers of Westerly were suddenly on display.

Carlos took back his hand and winced at Jane. “Sorry.”

Fascinated, Mal watched pop ups appear on the screen, offering info on water levels, river flow rates, fauna and flora species…

Ben spread his fingers on the table and the map zoomed out. He swiped it and the screen focused on the regions above the Great Wall. Agrabah was the only one not highlighted in black. “We have a foothold in the outer regions. My question is, are we going to use it and expand from there?”

“I chose Agrabah because it was the safest possible start and Maleficent can’t afford to go back and re-capture it,” Mal said and apologized to Aziz for her next words with a dip of her head, “But it is otherwise strategically unimportant. The real war is here, below the wall.”

She swiped the map down to the ten regions surrounding Auradon City. Four regions were marked as Maleficent’s. From east to west it was: Neverland, Towering Heights, North Riding and all-important Camelot.

“We need to re-take regions fast and knock The Enemy off-balance so she doesn’t know which way to turn,” she continued.

“Can I assume you have a region already in mind?” Captain Lonnie asked.

“Hell yeah,” Hook laughed.

Mal resisted telling him to shut up. It would only spur him on. She moved the map again.

“Neverland is our next port of call,” she said.

“Why?” Ben asked.

“Those magical ships are a real nuisance. Auradon wastes its time and energy trying to respond when Captain Hook pulverizes coastal towns before disappearing into the mist. I want Maleficent’s fleet either off the board or in our control.”

“And if Neverland falls then so does the Captain,” Ben said.

A high-pitched girly scream came from Hook as he vibrated with excitement. Jay, who was standing next to him, dug his finger in his ear and grimaced.

Mal answered Ben with a nod. “We’re not going to try and catch uncatchable ships. We’ll wait until the pirates are gone then we teleport to the island and take it. When the Captain steps onto dry land we’ll surprise him before he can run back to his ships.”

“Without the pirates, how well-defended is Neverland?” Lonnie asked Jane.

“The Captain leaves behind just enough men to keep the Red Tribe suppressed and, of course, to kill the Tribe if the barrier is breached,” Jane said quietly, “Approximately a hundred men, one to every ten native.”

Ben zoomed closer to Neverland, tapping for more information. Pictures of the most beautiful island imaginable popped up. Gleaming white sand beaches, jewel-toned lagoons, a jungle so green it was almost luminescent…

“The jungle will provide good cover for a small incursion,” Ben noted.

“Just what I was thinking,” Mal smiled.

Evie sighed at the photos. “That’s a beach made for sunbathing. Maybe we can stay awhile after we save the day?”

“I could go for that,” Jay put in. “I’ve always wanted to learn to surf.”

“Neverland is not for tourists. It’s a special place. A nexus of magic,” Lonnie said.

“A what?” Jay asked.

“It’s a magical hotspot,” Mal explained to her friends, “A cousin of the Summerlands. But less fey and more…innocent. Some even believe that Neverland is the birthplace of magic.”

“Before the war, access to the island was granted only to a select few, by the pleasure of the Red Tribe’s Chief or Peter Pan,” Lonnie said, making it clear that the VKs stepping foot there was a bad joke.

“Well now the Chief’s a slave and Peter Pan is probably shark shit,” Hook said, “Can we get back to how we’re gonna kick my pa’s arse?”

All of the Auradonians flinched; Jane nearly fainted. Ben was wearing the closest approximation to a glare that Mal had ever seen on him.

“Harry don’t be rude,” Uma murmured half-heartedly.

“Wait,” Mal said, “Have any of you been to Neverland?”

Ben and his guard looked at each other.

“Peter Pan hates Genie’s guts apparently, so my family never got an invite,” Aziz said.

Chad’s chin went up. “My family were too busy ruling to go to some stupid magical island.”

“My mother was honored with an invitation by the Chief twenty years ago,” Lonnie said, “She said it was an unforgettable experience. But I myself have never been.”

“My father went too,” Ben said.

“Goes without saying that I never got that honor,” Noah shrugged.

Mal sighed. “It would’ve been nice to have someone who’s familiar with Neverland on our team. But Fa Mulan can lead soldiers into Neverland once we take care of - ” Mal said.

“Well thank you for turning my mother into another piece on your chessboard!” Lonnie said hotly.  

Abruptly, the tension in the room was thick. The other guards shifted on their feet, ingrained habit preparing their bodies for a fight. Gil’s head jerked up and he blinked. Mal was surprised at the level of hostility radiating from Lonnie and stared at her coolly, unwilling to escalate things. “I’m just doing my job, Captain.”

Lonnie looked at Ben and his eyes told her to settle down. For a moment, Mal thought the Captain of the Royal Guard was going to start yelling. Then she choked back her anger and looked down.

“Right,” Ben said into the awkward silence, “So the plan is to wait for Captain Hook’s next attack, sneak into Neverland and subdue the hostiles. Then we call in our forces and wait to ambush him.”

“The timing will be tricky,” Mal admitted, “Captain Hook will have to be away for at least an hour to give us enough time. So if your navy could…delay engaging them…”

His voice went flat. “You mean let the pirates attack the coast without interference.”

“We don’t want to spook them into going back to Neverland early!”

“Remember the deal we made?” Ben said quietly, “No innocents are to get hurt.”

“Your navy is ineffective against the pirates anyway. And your subjects are used to these attacks by now. They’re prepared. They just have to endure one more attack one last time. It’s the only way. Otherwise they continue to be at the mercy of Hook.”

Ben clenched his jaw. He let a breath out through his nose. He nodded once.

They hashed out the details – and the Jane girl was unexpectedly vital to the process. She knew everything about army and navy logistics. Helicopters from East Riding would await Ben’s signal to fly over and dispatch troops. The Mer Kingdom would be on standby. Everyone would have to be ready for the mission to start at a moment’s notice. Hopefully they’d be in Neverland within the first ten minutes of Captain Hook’s next attack.

After Jane promised to see to preparations and left, Mal relaxed just a little. The next mission was underway. She’d gotten Ben to agree to her strategy – she was always nervous that Auradonian ethics would get in the way of practicality – and now they’d wait until they could enact her perfect plan.

“Can we go back to bed now?” Gil moaned and shuffled towards the door.

“Stay dressed and armed,” Mal warned, “You hear me Gil?”

He gestured in her direction and mumbled incoherently before leaving.

“Not enough sleep lowers a complexion’s PH levels,” Evie graced them with this fascinating tidbit before going too.

“I think I’m too wired to sleep now,” Jay said.

“You’re telling me,” Hook grinned, twisting his hook back and forth in its lock.

“Want to get breakfast?” Aziz asked Jay. And amazingly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, Jay grunted a yes and they both went out together.

Mal and the others stared, disbelieving. When had those two buried the hatchet? 

Ben cleared his throat and looked at Uma. “I wouldn’t mind having some company for breakfast too. Are you hungry Mira?”

She cocked her head as if the question had a deep hidden meaning. Then smiled. “Sure. I could eat. Thank you, Sire.”

The two went to the door, Noah following. Then Ben turned and, in an apparent afterthought, asked Mal if she’d like to join them.

Caught off guard, she stammered like an idiot. “That’s fine. You’re okay. I mean, you two go ahead. I’ll eat later.”

Uma lightly touched Ben’s elbow, and barely able to conceal his happiness at having her by his side, that was all that was needed to prompt him to walk out with her.

Mal looked at Lonnie, expecting her to be apoplectic at the warmth Aziz, and then the king himself, had showed to VKs.

But Lonnie’s dark eyes were carefully expressionless.  

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Evie was sitting on the floor, her hand spread wide on the coffee table. She swept a brush over her nails and painted them emerald green. She was dubbing the shade “Tipsy Pixie”. She had specially made it for the upcoming mission but when she’d spilled a batch on Mal’s bed her best friend had banished her from their rooms. So she was trying out her new nail polish in the lounge. Her cell would go off if she was needed.

She blew on her nails then admired them. Green wasn’t her usual color but it was healthy to mix things up once and a while.

“Hi,” cracked a voice.

Evie looked up and found a guy standing beside her. She judged him in the space of one breath. 

Heavy square glasses were on a plain, but not unpleasant, face. Nice eyebrows – some men have never heard of tweezers and let their brows grow into ferocious caterpillars. But his skin would benefit from a water based moisturizer and his hair was gelled down too neatly. He was pale and lanky and dressed in the most asexual, nerdy clothing Evie had ever been within a dozen feet of.

“Hello,” she said, without honey or purrs. She wasn’t sure what the game was yet.

The guy smiled. And then did nothing.

“And you are?” she asked. 

“Oh! I’m Doug,” he stuck out his hand for a shake.

She showed him her drying nails.

He took back his hand. “May I sit with you?”

“It’s a free country. This part of the country, anyway. For now.”

“Better take the opportunity while I can then, huh?” he said and joined her on the floor. He moved aside the bottle of nail polish and put a thick stack of bound papers on the coffee table. Then he cleared his throat but she spoke before he could.

“I haven’t seen you before. Are you a friend of the king’s or do you work here?”

“Both. Okay, friend might be an exaggeration but we did go to school together. I mainly work in the IT department so I’m behind the scenes a lot of the time. I heard that you and your friends were here, but I didn’t think it was my business to go snooping.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “But it is now?”

“No. It occurred to me that if I didn’t see sunlight soon or talk to a human being I might actually evolve into a computer. And that might be cool for a few days until someone tries to make me play Sherwood folk music and I crash on principle.”

She laughed. He looked pleased. She tilted her head. “And of all people to help you stay grounded you chose me. Bold choice.”

“I’m a daredevil, clearly.”

He was strangely confident for someone wearing a bow tie. She blew on her nails again with slow care and sensed him focusing on her puckered lips.

She nodded to the stack of papers. “What are those?”

“Ah. I was talking to Carlos and he mentioned that you’re a fashion enthusiast,” he said and pushed the stack across the table so she could see it better. The title page read, “Silk and Glass: Collections and Creations”.

“It’s a book about fashion?” she asked.

“It was going to be. Then the war started and it was never published. But I emailed the author and she was kind enough to send me the manuscript – I did spend a lot of summers at her house when I was little.”

“Who’s the author?”

He grinned. “Princess Cinderella.”

She looked at him, then the manuscript, then back at him. “You’re messing with me.”

He opened it up to a random page and there was a picture of Cinderella in the most stunning cream gown and filigree gold belt; on the adjacent page were details on her inspiration, her creative process, her thoughts on design…

“Unholy God,” Evie breathed.

“I thought you might like it,” Doug said knowingly.

She went for the manuscript but stopped just short of touching it. She shook her hands out, willing her nails to dry fast. “Turn the page for me!”

He did. And when she wanted he turned it again. There were features on Cinderella’s most famous pieces, never before seen designs and peaks into her private closet and unbelievable jewelry collection…

It was exciting on a number of levels. It was a work of art, this book, an ode to style and material splendor. It was also an invaluable resource for Evie. And Dizzy would lose her mind when she saw it. But the thought that it could be used to ingratiate herself further into Chad Charming’s life made Evie glow with joy.

“Doug,” she beamed, “This is amazing. You're amazing.”

He shrugged. “It was nothing. Look, this dress was made for Snow White.”

She was engrossed in the book for an hour, and Doug was patient as a saint as he flipped pages for her and allowed her to awe and whimper for as long as she liked. She gushed about something and even though he didn’t know the difference between an A line dress and an empire dress, he smiled at her passion and did his best to “talk shop” with her.

In the text, Cinderella offered her observations on the workings of modern fashion houses and Evie was waxing lyrical about the superiority of tailored creations over mass produced clothing when Doug interrupted her.

“You know,” he said, looking at her curiously, “Carlos made it sound like this was a hobby. But you really know your stuff, don’t you?”

She swept back her hair proudly. “I think so, yes.”

“Will you start your own business or apply for an internship? Once you’re pardoned after the war, I mean.”

Her grin faded. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry. I just assumed by how much you loved fashion that it's what you want to do for a living,” he said.

“I…I don’t…”

“Is there something else you have in mind?”

She stared at him, robbed of speech. Her working in Auradon as a designer, earning money and sharing her creations, was a laughable fantasy – an alternate reality. Doug made it sound simple, like she could choose to be anything.

She looked away. “Don’t be silly. No one would want to wear an outfit the Evil Queen’s daughter made. They’d be scared it was cursed or would burst into flame.”

“Hey. We’re more than just somebody’s kid.”

She gave him an ironic smile. “Maybe you are. Where I’m from things are different.”

“You’re in Auradon now Evie. We’re all dreaming about what we’ll do when the war is done and we can live again. You and your friends are here to help – and that gives you as much right to dream as any of us.”

She found it very hard to meet his gaze. He didn’t know his words were empty ones. He didn’t know that she was going to be Mal’s right hand woman in a new world order, that the VKs were going to screw Auradon over.

It was Evie’s greatest desire.

She looked at Cinderella’s wonderful, lovingly crafted book. Evie’s giddiness had shriveled up. She pasted her best smile onto her face. “May I borrow this? I have a friend who’d die to see it.”

Doug picked it up and passed it to her. “It’s yours. Today I’ve learned enough about fashion to get me through the rest of my life.”

Evie looked him up and down pointedly. “Are you sure about that?”

He used both hands to stretch his bow tie. “Don’t be jealous that I’m always red carpet ready.”

She smiled more sincerely. They both stood and she patted the book. “Thank you Doug.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, and looked at her hopefully, “Maybe you could invite me along the next time you’re painting your nails?”

She chuckled a little. “What if I want to paint your nails?”

“Well worth a conversation with you.”

                                                                                3333333333333333333333

Mal was yanked awake by the bang of a door being flung open. She leaped out of bed while Evie flailed around in the dark without a clue what was going on.

The light from the hall showed Aziz in the doorway.

“Hook?” Mal asked breathlessly.

Aziz shook his head. He was as grim as an undertaker. “Both of you come with me. Now.”

Having had the same rude awakening, all of the VKs were in the hall and were dressed for battle except for Dizzy. They looked at Mal, who shrugged.

“Dizzy, go back to bed,” Evie said.

The girl frowned. “But…”

“So not up for discussion.”

Gil patted Dizzy’s shoulder. “Wherever we’re going I’ll bring you back a souvenir, I promise. Unless its the dungeons. Then maybe not.”

She went back to her room with a sigh.

“We have to run,” said Aziz.

He took point and ran them from the hall, out of Castle Beast, across the yard and into the royal palace. He slowed down a fraction once inside to avoid a collision with the frightened people running this way and that, urgently seeing to their duties. Aziz took them into a room that was filled with people shouting to be heard. Ben was surrounded and he looked like he’d aged a few years since Mal had last saw him some hours ago.

He saw her but then her view was blocked by the Three Good Fairies.

“What are you doing here?” the blue one growled, “This is hero’s work now. Your tricks won’t save us.”

“I have to agree,” the red one said stiffly, “You’ll only confuse the issue. If you truly wish for our success young fairy then you must stay out of it. Let the king take care of things.”

“Let the king speak for himself,” she said.

“Seconded,” Ben said, stepping around the Good Fairies. He took Mal’s arm and pulled her through the crowd. He led her and the VKs through a doorway. It was a bathroom with a few toilet cubicles. He locked the bathroom door and it was blessedly quieter. 

“What in Hades…” Mal said.

He looked at her. “The army in Camelot has split. Half of Maleficent’s forces are marching into North Riding.”

Mal’s mind raced.

“She’s already conquered North Riding,” Uma frowned, “Why would she go backwards, away from Auradon City?”

“To get to Towering Heights. There she’ll launch her attack on East Riding – and if that region falls…” Ben trailed off.

“Maleficent can attack Auradon City on three fronts,” Mal finished for him, “The Camelot border, the East Riding border and by sea. The city won’t stand a chance.”

“But if we take her navy...” Uma said.

“She'll use her ships in the attack on East Riding,” Ben turned to Mal, his gaze borrowing into her, “What if Captain Hook doesn’t leave Neverland until then? If we even get the opportunity to take the ships after East Riding falls, she’ll still be on two sides of us. We’ll be crushed.”

Mal thought aloud. “We could abandon the city. Evacuate to another region.”

“The king running away from his capital? Leaving only six regions left in the kingdom?” he shook his head, “My people would lose all hope. She cannot be allowed to conquer Old Auradon.”

Mal growled and began to pace, which was hard to do with them all squeezed in there. The VKs pressed themselves back and gave her space.

“This is bad, isn’t it?” Gil whispered and was promptly shushed.

Mal came to stop. “We have to forget about Neverland and Captain Hook for now.”

Harry Hook let out a humph.

“And do what?” Ben asked, crossing his arms.

“We have time before her army reaches Towering Heights. That’s our new target.”

“Why?”

“Once we defeat Cruella and Dr Facilier we’ll evacuate the people there and leave behind some nasty surprises for The Enemy. We’ll use everything we’ve got at our disposal, magic and technology, to ensure their numbers are cut down.”

“That won’t stop them from attacking East Riding.”

“No,” Mal said, “but it’ll weaken them. It’s our best option right now.”

He bowed his head in thought. Mal waited, knowing she was right.

“We’ll go tonight,” he said, “The sooner we take Towering Heights the more time we’ll have to lay traps.”

Mal glanced at Carlos. His freckles stood out on a face that had whitened in terror. She knew he hadn’t been expecting to cross mommy dearest quite so soon.

But plans change.

Chapter Text

Ben finished changing into an all-black set of stealth clothes, complete with gloves and beanie. He strapped his sword belt back on and looked in the mirror that hung in his bedroom. He frowned. If he could spot the anxiety lining his face then his subjects would certainly notice. He rearranged his features until he was a passably brave leader and king. What a fraud he sometimes felt he was. His stomach was full of doves.

Tonight was possibly going to be the most crucial hours in the entire war. Failure was a non-option.

Checking the alarm clock on his bedside drawer, he saw he had ten minutes before he was due to meet the others and was struck by a thought. Going over to the drawer, he searched through it but didn’t find what he wanted. It wasn’t in the other drawer either.

He found Merlin’s gift with other childhood toys and mementos in a dusty box on top of one of his wardrobes. He turned the flute over in his hands. It was smaller than he remembered; his awe of Merlin as a child had turned the flute into a great magical artefact in his nostalgic memory. It was little more than a stick with a few holes in it. Ben smiled. It was also the exact shade of his hair.

There was a knock on his door and on an impulse he tucked the flute into his belt for luck.

“Come in.”

Lonnie entered then stopped short and struggled not to smile.

“What?” he asked.

“You look like a burglar.”

“So do you.”

“Yes. But it’s more ridiculous for a king.”

“Hey!” he laughed.

She grinned back then sobered. “May I ask, have you called the Queen Dowager?”

He looked away. “Briefly.”

“Is she aware of what we’re attempting?”

“She’d only worry and what good would that do?”

She regarded him with a sad smile. “You never want to be a burden to anyone.”

“Of course not.”

“That’s a mistake Ben.”

His felt his eyes widen. Both at the reproach and the informal address. This didn’t sound like Captain Lonnie, zealous Lonnie, for whom discipline and duty was everything.

She cleared her throat. “The war may have caused both of us to forget sometimes…but I am your friend, as well as your protector. If there’s anything you want to tell me, no matter how unkingly it is, I would listen. Even if I don’t like it or disagree or can’t be of any help. I’d still want to listen.”

“Lonnie, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know about you and Mira,” she sighed.

Ben choked. “You...you do? How?”

“One of the VKs let it slip.”

Without realizing he was moving he was suddenly right in front of her and grasped her arms. “Who have you told? Who else knows?”

“No one.”

“You swear Lonnie?” he begged.

Her expression was frustratingly calm. “Yes, Sire.”

He stepped back from her and pulled at his hair. “Damn. This is just what I needed. God, Mira’s going to be so frightened. None of my people were supposed to know.”

“Why not?”

Ben gave her a look. “Come on. Half the time my councilors and friends want to see the VKs booted back to the Isle - you more than anyone. How could I trust any of you with this?”

“I don’t want to make trouble. When I learned about it I was shocked, yeah. But I told you because I want you to know that you can trust me Ben. This can stay between us, you don’t have to tell Mira about it if you think it would upset her.”

He exhaled. She wasn’t going to tell anyone. Mira was safe. “You picked an interesting time to bring this up.”

“This mission is crazy dangerous. What better time to learn you can rely on me?”

He was touched and looked at her fondly. “Thanks Lonnie,” he felt lighter than he had in weeks. “Truth is, I’ve been desperate to talk to someone about this. It’s been so hard, keeping it all to myself. I mean it’s huge! I’ve found my true love.”

“Later, you must tell me all about it,” Lonnie smiled, “I want to hear everything.”

333333333333333333

They were taking three extra men with them, volunteers from the army. With the entire royal guard accompanying them as well as the goblins Mal was worried the team was too big. She tried to raise the issue with Lonnie but was shut down. The captain was comforted by the numbers and, as if she was the one in command, told Mal to make sure the VKs were ready. Mal forced back the unholy green that threatened to light up her eyes, and said she would. She joined the VKs and goblins at one end of the hall in the royal palace.

“If I start strangling that girl with her own plait, you will stop me right?” Mal asked Evie.

“Always,” Evie said, fiddling with her belt, “Do you think this scabbard makes my hips look wider?”

Mal rolled her eyes. Evie glared at her. “Why do I have a sword anyway? I barely know how to use it.”

“Get a crossbow, like me! It’s awesome,” Gil enthused, the deadly bow looking even more impressive cradled in his strong arms.

Uma touched the tip of the crossbow and moved it until it wasn’t pointed at her. “Gil, Evie’s here for decorative purposes only. No one actually expects her to do anything. She’s like Mal’s mascot, or dog.”

“Gah! Don’t say dog!” Carlos yelled. “No one say dog! I am this close to walking out.”

They ignored him. Evie looked like she wanted to snap back at Uma but couldn’t think of a defense. Uma smirked.

“As a matter of fact, she has one of the most important jobs tonight,” Mal said coolly.

Evie shuffled closer to her. “I do?” she whispered.

Mal grinned wide. “You’re going to cast the teleportation spell remember? Ben can’t use The Wand anymore and I need to save my strength for the barrier and the High Wardens. You have magic in your blood, you’re the most qualified to use it.”

“Oh yeah. Now I remember,” Evie said primly.

“I have magic,” Uma ground out.

“No you don’t, you’re Mira. Just stand there and look like a damsel,” Mal said.

Uma scowled and fumed.

When no one was looking Evie pecked a kiss on Mal’s cheek.

“Dog,” Hook said into Carlos’s ear.  

“Gah!”

Ben came with his guards and the soldiers, “Ready?”

Mal nodded and he passed The Wand to her. She turned and Evie took The Wand from her as cautiously as if she was handling a baby.

“Okay,” Evie cleared her throat, “Let’s uh, all hold hands.”

Blibtogs dashed over and gripped Mal’s hand, grinning up at her. She sighed and offered her hand to Jay. Everyone gathered in.

Evie waved The Wand in a graceful flourish:

Take us to some sorry sights

Just outside Towering Heights  

“What the…” Mal said after the flash of white.

They were standing on a hill and beyond the barrier, the city was lit up with lights. But not from electricity. Glowing green, purple and orange ran on the roads and up the walls in chaotic swirls and jagged patterns. Like the cheerful, pretty colors on poisonous frogs it telegraphed serious trouble. It was a city-wide warning to keep away, don’t touch, stay out.

“How are you feeling?” Mal asked Evie.

“Tired. But nothing major,” Evie gave The Wand to Mal. 

“Okay,” Mal said into the uneasy silence, “We sneak in and go to the tower – it’s the most prestigious spot in Towering Heights and I’m sure Facilier is set up there. Cruella might be too but if she’s not we have a way to find her. Let’s go.”

They moved soundlessly in the night. The trees disappeared and the lush grass beneath their feet became sparse and dead when they reached the barrier. There was a peculiar scent in the still air but Mal ignored it for the moment. She braced herself then spoke the words:

My magic is darkest, yours lightest

This doesn’t matter in the slightest

Unless wand in hand is in disguise

You will be found by evil eyes

So hide in my shadows but a moment

Dim your shine with this bestowment

Then back to normal double quick

After this underhanded fairy trick

Even knowing what to expect did little to lessen the spell’s impact. A piece of her was being ripped out; black ichor – something Dark and intrinsically her -  poured from her hands. She tried to keep her head clear, to focus objectively on what was happening, but it was difficult. The darkness sprang to The Wand and wrapped around it. Dream-like, she walked through the barrier and studied The Wand as the black dissipated. Immediately, she felt whole again.

She expected to see the others watching her but they were otherwise diverted.

Evie had turned up her foot and was examining the bottom of her shoe in disgust. “What is this stuff?”

The road beneath their feet was spongy and damp. Bleeding in the cracks and around the cobblestones were the neon colors featuring on every surface and which made it seem like they’d stepped into someone’s psychedelic trance. Mal bent over and swiped the ground. She rubbed bright orange between her gloved fingers.

“It’s some kind of algae,” she said. “It’s…probably harmless?”

“There’s a funk in the air too,” Jay said, sniffing.

A miasma thickened the air and made things in the distance just a haze of indefinite shapes. It sat heavy on her lungs and made her nose itch.

“This is obviously Facilier’s doing,” Uma said, “Voodoo magic is weird but no less dangerous for it. In this place, we can’t trust a pebble.”

“Agreed,” Mal said.

She scanned to the right and left. Strange grasses, vines and scraggly bushes were growing by the road and swallowing the buildings. The plants were a noxious green and looked simultaneously tough and unhealthy. Mal didn’t want to touch them if she could help it and began walking down the road’s middle, the luminescent algae lighting their way in place of the moon.  

One of the soldiers took out a map and double-checked the path Mal lead them on through the streets. Because of the haze she couldn’t see the tower that usually dominated the city’s skyline but she had memorized the routes to it.

She stopped. There were footsteps and the echoing sound was coming from right ahead. With no other choice, they waded through thick grasses to reach the nearest apartment. The front door hung off its hinges and the lobby they hid in was filthy. The floor was dirt, and sticks and leaves were piled against the walls.

Mal peeked out the door and the others crouched by the windows. Two men were walking down the street like they owned it. They wore rough spun clothes and carried a heavy wooden club and Isle instinct told her that they’d used them before and would have no qualms about using them again. She squinted and realized that the masks on their faces were skulls without the lower jaw – whether they were real skulls she couldn’t tell. They passed from sight.

“This place is giving me more chills than Agrabah. And that’s saying something,” Evie murmured.

“Ditto,” Carlos said.

Mal noticed one of her goblins had wandered from them and was sniffing and snorting. Blibtogs noticed too.

“Hey trooper,” he scowled, “Get back in line.”

“I smell something Captain,” the goblin protested. He moved aside a branch and a furry face blinked up at him. The goblin yelped. The animal shrieked and darted out. It was a ferret, and the goblins hissed and made a fuss as it avoided their stamping feet and loped across the floor. It dived into a hole in another pile and hid. Nervous chitters and clicks softly filled the room.  

“They’re nests,” Mal realized aloud.

Nests and burrows and warrens. There was a design to the mishmash of sticks and leaves, it was a tiny, crude village. Mal wondered how she hadn’t seen the beady eyes staring out at her before, there were a dozens of them, and embedded in them was a shivering fear.

“Yuck. When we’re done we can call pest control right?” Gil said.

“No,” Ben said, stepping forward. His voice trembled. “They’re not animals. They’re people. My people,” he addressed the room, “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you. It’s me, King Ben. My friends and I are here to stop Facilier and Cruella and save you.”

More nervous chittering. A slender ginger cat came out of a hole and looked at Ben with intelligent green eyes. The cat slinked closer, tail flicking doubtfully. He stopped at Ben’s feet and looked up. He meowed. Then meowed louder and couldn’t seem to stop, his fur bristling with emotion which he was unable to properly express.

Animals popped out of their hiding places and streamed to Ben: five more cats, a colony of mice, some rabbits and lizards, a few possums and that one ferret came to dance around him and try and communicate their joy and all they had suffered.

“Told you I smelled something,” the goblin said smugly to Blibtogs.

“Told you I smelled something,” Blibtogs repeated in a high, mocking voice. “Shut up.”

Ben crouched down and spoke soothing words. A mouse stretched up and offered a paw which he gently took between his thumb and finger, the closest they could come to a handshake.

The Auradonians looked on in sadness. Even the soldiers were misty eyed.

“I can’t believe they’re really people,” Evie whispered.

“What animal would I turn into if I was spelled,” Hook wondered, unmoved by the pitiable scene.

“A monkey, obviously,” Mal said and went to Ben and touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, but if we want to fix this we can’t waste any time.”

Ben looked at her and she struggled to hold his gaze. He stood reluctantly. “It will be all right,” he told the animals, “I promise.”

The animals touched his boots; whether in farewell, for good luck or as a plea not to leave them it was impossible to tell. Mal checked that the street was clear and they went back outside.

As they moved deeper into the city Mal caught glimpses of other spelled victims of Facilier. In the shadows and haze, a shape too small to be human would hear their approach and scamper. Sometimes the neon colors would illuminate the animals as they ran for their lives, and it appeared it was mostly the swift-footed cats who dared travel the streets. They were terrified of any hint of people. They believed Mal and her team were the High Wardens or those thugs in the skull masks because who else could it be after all this time and every loyal Auradon citizen transformed?

The closer they got to the tower, the thicker and hotter the air became. Mal’s stealth clothes were perfect for sneaking and protecting her with the minimal amount of armor but it did not breathe. Sweat slicked down her back and her tongue felt fuzzy. It was so gross. But more importantly, she felt weaker, drained with the effort of inhaling the foul mist.

She bit her lip. “Maybe I could conjure our own personal bubble of fresh air?”

“Yes,” Jay panted.

“No,” Lonnie said, “We’d be more visible from afar. We can’t draw attention to ourselves.”

“But…”

“It’s too big a risk. And Mal needs to conserve her energy for the vital spells.”

“Lonnie’s right,” Ben said.

Mal said no more. But as she walked on, she became convinced that there was something wrong. She pulled at the collar of her tight jacket, feeling like she was barely sucking down any oxygen. Surrounding her, encasing her, were the glowing stripes and swirls of glowing colors in a riotous pattern that didn’t make any sense. Or did it? Were those eyes in that swirl on the wall? Did they just blink? Panic scratched inside, itching to be let loose.

Carlos screamed.

She whirled around, having no idea what spell was going to spring from her lips but thrusting The Wand out all the same.

Carlos was crawling up Jay. Jay swore mightily as he was elbowed and kicked in Carlos’s frenzied attempt to leave the ground.

“What’s the matter with you?” Jay growled as a fistful of his hair was pulled.  

Face white with terror, Carlos pointed. “D-d-d-dog!”

Mal looked. A ragged, sand colored little dog that barely came up to Mal’s knee stood there, gazing at them. After some consideration, he seemed to decide they were good people and padded closer. Carlos shrieked like he was dying.

“Be quiet!” Uma hissed.

“Ow! Get off me, bro!” Jay said.

“He’s going to get us caught!”

“Carlos please,” Ben pleaded.

Carlos couldn’t hear them through his own screams or maybe he just didn’t care. Mal had the same thought as Lonnie and together they both clamped their hands over Carlos’s mouth.

“Did you hear that?” came a voice.

“Course I heard that. Do you think I’m retarded?”

“Geez, Steve, I was only asking.”

“Shut up you lot. I think it came from over here.”

Mal and Lonnie dragged Carlos into an alley. The dog followed them and Carlos’s panic rekindled and he tried to pry himself free. Mal and Lonnie slammed him against the wall, still covering his mouth. The others gathered close and they all waited for the worst.

Footsteps, too many to count. The alley was a poor hiding place. On an average night in a normal city it would’ve been dark enough to conceal them but the alley was lit up like a Christmas tree the same as the street.

Mal found she couldn’t point The Wand where she needed to because she didn’t dare let go of Carlos.

“Fear not Mistress,” Blibtogs whispered and pounded his fist into his palm, “Your gobs will take care of it.”

“Wait. I’ve got an idea,” Ben said and reached for something at his belt. A stick? No, a flute.

“Found anything Steve?”

“Look at my club. Do you see me using it? No.”

They were very close now. “You’re such a grump when you’re hungover…”

Bewildered, everyone watched Ben bring the flute to his lips and blow.

A hair-raising growl rumbled in the alley. It was the warning growl of a tiger or a lion, and spoke of barely chained violence. Carlos quietened and the dog froze. The Auradonians were openly amazed at this trick their king had pulled from his sleeve. Ben winked at them.

“What was that?” a thug called out nervously.

Ben played the flute again and the growl had a snarl in it now, fury sparking from having the first warning ignored. It made Mal’s heart beat faster. She’d never encountered a big cat and she only vaguely remembered the nature specials on TV back on the Isle. Nevertheless, she knew that noise coming from the flute was exactly what a pissed off jungle cat sounded like.

“I thought all the animals were supposed to be small and weak,” quavered a minion.

“It’s in that alley. What do we do?”

“It…it must be a cat or a dog that just sounds big. Go check it out.”

“I’m not going in there!”

“For god’s sake, there are ten of us and one of whatever that thing is! We’ll all go.”

Ben sucked in a breath and blew hard into the flute. A full-throated roar shook the alley and hurt Mal’s ears. Screams grew distant as the thugs ran far, far away.

Ben tucked the flute back into his belt with a triumphant grin.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Mal asked.

“It was a gift from an old friend a long time ago. Came in handy huh?”

Danger averted, the dog sniffed their feet and wagged his tail a little. Carlos made muffled whimpers.

Mal glared at him. “Enough, you idiot. Use that brain you’re so proud of and think. This isn’t a real dog. It may look like a dog and walk like a dog…and piss on Hook’s boot like a dog – “

“Ay!” Hook scowled and shook his foot.

“ - but it’s a person. He's not going to attack you because he's a human trapped in fur. Got it?”

Carlos hesitated then nodded.

“We’re going to let you go. And you’re not going to scream.”

He nodded again.

She exchanged glances with Lonnie and both of them slowly eased away from Carlos. He gazed at the dog. The dog noticed and pricked up his ears.

Carlos sagged. “Aw. I’m sorry little dude. I just saw you and…and I freaked. It must be hard enough to be a dog without me screaming at you.”

The dog sat and thumped his tail. Carlos laughed and reached down to muss the hair on top of his head. “Don’t stress. We’re going to break the spell soon and you’ll be a regular dude again.”

Ben was looking at him with curiosity. "There aren't any dogs on the Isle so how can you have a phobia about them?"

"I don't," Carlos replied, "Phobias are extreme and irrational fears. Being afraid of a bloodthirsty pack animal is good common sense and I'm not ashamed of it."

Ben appeared to want to say more about it but one of the soldiers reminded them that the tower wasn't far and Mal took them back to the road. She found she was glad the close call had happened. Her mind wasn’t murky anymore and the clawing panic that was so unlike her had disappeared without a trace. There were no eyes in the neon colors and the air was uncomfortable but didn’t choke her. Perhaps Facilier had put something in the atmosphere to destabilize the populace or an unwanted traveler. She didn’t know. It certainly wasn’t because she had lost her nerve.

They’d tried to convince the dog not to come with them, that it was too hazardous, but he couldn’t be dissuaded. He must be eager to be human again and for the High Wardens to get theirs. Carlos walked alongside him protectively. Being turned into a canine was evidently too cruel and unjust for Carlos and it had won his sympathy.

“It should be up here,” Mal said, shading her eyes and trying to pierce through the smog to see the tower.

She collided with something solid and tumbled over it and went sprawling. Her chin hit the cobblestones hard and pain radiated up her jaw. Green algae smeared all down her front, she sat up and looked behind her. There was only empty air. Nothing that could’ve tripped her.

She felt something grab her hand, the hand that had held onto The Wand despite the fall.

“Mal?” her friends asked, confused and oblivious.

Whatever the invisible thing was it was strong and was trying to steal The Wand. Grunting, she tugged back with all her strength. The dog barked madly, the only one who seemed wise to the truth.

“What’s wrong Your Gruesomeness?” a goblin asked.

“I don’t know!” Mal said with gritted teeth.

The thing let go and she snapped back, holding The Wand to her chest. Something moved out of the corner of her eye.

There was a shadow on the wall next to her. It floated free, unattached to the ground, and had the shape of a man. It grinned at her with teeth long and sharp as a crocodile’s. Someone gasped behind her when they saw it too.

“Perfect,” Uma muttered.

The Shadow moved along the wall and plunged down and onto the road. Mal stood. From the mist, a figure emerged. He was missing the top hat but was still tall and rail thin. His finely tailored suit was royal purple and his shoes were a shiny gold. Cane in hand, he strutted into their path, gold chains swinging around his neck. On one of the chains hung a pendant with veins of pulsing red. It was the talisman that held the blood of the spelled people of Towering Heights and its magic was what kept them animals.

Dr Facilier - the Shadow Man - smiled a gap toothed grin. “What brings you fine folks to my neck of the woods? I don’t recollect sending an invitation.”

A dozen minions with skull masks and clubs stepped out of nowhere to stand behind their High Warden. Facilier’s shadow circled him.

Mal felt her friends at her back, weapons poised. The goblins crowded around her and bared their teeth.

“Sorry to drop in unannounced. We just came to borrow a cup of sugar,” she said.

Facilier ran a finger over his mustache. “Delighted to be of help but….you wouldn’t have anything to do with the disappearance of my good friend Jafar, would you?”

“Now that you mention it, there was one other thing we came to do…”

Ben stepped to her side. “Surrender Dr Facilier. It’s over.”

Facilier laughed. “What a sight. Maleficent’s daughter and Auradon’s darling boy, working together.”

“That’s right. And you know what this is?” Mal held up The Wand.

He sneered at her.

“Your magic is no match for it. I can tie you into knots or turn you into a tap dancing flamingo,” she said.

“Do it. Give the bastard a taste of his own medicine,” said Chad.

“I admit,” the villain sighed, “It’s a pretty little thing. I myself have a weakness for dazzle and bling.” He fingered his talisman.

It was Mal’s turn to sneer. “You are not biting us with that or getting one drop of our blood.”

“There's no need. The blood is already beautifully primed for me. All I have to do is knock on the door and what's in there will come out,” he smirked, “Don’t you just love curses?”

He swept his cane in an arc and the glass globe on the top blazed.

Ben cried out and dropped, cradling his stomach. Ice ran through Mal as she kneeled beside him and called his name but he didn’t look at her, too consumed with whatever was happening to him. His guards fired questions at him and yelled at Facilier who only cackled and watched with anticipation.

Ben moaned. Every inch of his skin darkened then thick brown fur sprang up. Mal recoiled in shock. He shuddered in obvious agony and grew in size, his belt snapping and his clothes ripping under the strain. His shoes burst and released huge padded feet. His gloves fell apart and wicked claws shot out of his fingers and he dragged them screeching against the stone. Then he grew even larger.

Mal crawled backwards, staring.

Shaking his beanie off, bronze horns punched out the sides of his head and curled proudly. The sounds he made weren’t human anymore. It was guttural snarling and huffing. Ben’s back was to her and under the fur it bunched with monstrously powerful muscle. The noises died. Ben stilled.

Mal swallowed. “Ben?”

“Sire…” Lonnie said in a hush.

Ben straightened to his new height of over seven feet and turned. His face was unrecognizable. He had a heavy brow, a pronounced jaw and his bottom fangs were jutting over his upper lip. But it was his sun-gold eyes with pupils narrowed into vertical slits that let Mal know Ben was gone. There was no spark of humanity there as he assessed them with the focus of an apex predator.

The Beast growled his first warning.

Chapter Text

Mal looked at The Beast. The Beast looked at them. The dog whined and backed away, tail between his legs. Lonnie shifted and The Beast’s ears twitched at the grind of her boots and she stopped. Mal wanted to stand but sensed it would be a really bad idea. No one said anything, stunned and horrified and not daring to speak.

But Facilier wasn’t afraid; he looked very pleased with himself.

“Ya’ll wouldn’t have guessed a thing like that was hiding in the princeling huh?” he taunted behind The Beast. “But I knew. Curses can break but they don’t wash out ha ha!”

The Beast’s ears flicked and his fur bristled but he didn’t look at Facilier.

“What do we do?” Noah said, voice barely above a murmur.

Uma stepped forward. “I’ll handle this.”

“What are ya doing?” Hook hissed as Uma walked up to The Beast.

“Ben it’s me. It’s Mira. Listen to me. It’s okay. I’m here. Don’t be afraid…”

Her melodious voice was a lover’s caress. She was reaching out a comforting hand when The Beast’s pupils narrowed into sharp slivers. With an outraged roar he raked her with one giant paw and she screeched and stumbled back.

“No!” Hook cried, abandoning his sword and running to her.

An arrow whizzed by The Beast, just missing him, and he gazed with interest at where it had pierced a post box. Hook used the distraction to pull a groaning Uma away from the range of The Beast. Blood stained the hand she touched to her chest.

Mal jumped to her feet and saw Aziz fighting with Gil over control of his crossbow. “We can’t hurt the king!” Aziz yelled.

“He hurt her!” Gil yelled back, face red.

With this insolent display of noise and movement The Beast puffed himself up and roared. Mal shuddered. Lip curled to show gleaming white fangs, he took his first step.

“Boys,” Facilier grinned, “I believe that’s our cue.”

The Auradon guards and soldiers stared at the prowling Beast, squeezing their swords but frozen with indecision. They probably wouldn’t find the will to fight back until their throats were being torn out. Facilier’s thugs were keeping out of The Beast’s way and were going to clobber whoever The Beast momentarily spared. They were goliaths, they quite possibly had ogre blood in them and carried clubs the size of tree trunks.

“Auradonians and goblins, take care of the minions!” Mal said, “VKs, let’s keep The Beast busy.”

Her command pushed the Auradonians into action. They moved to protect the rear and sides while the VKs formed a line against The Beast. Gil loaded an arrow. Eyes glazed with pain, Uma stopped leaning on Hook and raised her sword. Mal glanced at her friends and that’s when The Beast leapt for Jay.

Jay dropped and rolled, barely avoiding claws, and the earth shuddered where The Beast landed. Gil aimed his bow but The Beast backhanded him and sent him flying. That was all Mal witnessed before The Shadow tackled her to the ground.

Teeth gritted, she rolled around and grappled with her unseen adversary. It pulled savagely at The Wand. How could she fight a shadow? There was no flesh to wound, just strength and a vicious will to contend with. She heard the fighting around her: goblins snarling, the meaty thunk of clubs, the pained gasps of friends and foes alike and most alarming of all, The Beast’s relentless hunting.  

Mal was quickly becoming one giant bruise. She couldn’t keep this up, she was tiring before The Shadow did. It succeeded in pinning her and gripped her by the hair and she couldn’t stop it from slamming her head against the road. Her vision swam. It pulled her hair to do it again and, face turned in the direction of a wall, she saw The Shadow there and her own shadow lying beneath it, showing the truth of what was happening and what wasn’t reflected in living, breathing life.

Mal strained to point at the shadows with The Wand and spat:

Partners, flesh and shade

Boost one, both will aid

So give the black

What strength I lack

Her shadow shivered then spread, outgrowing her real appearance and bulking up into a positively ripped version twice the size of The Shadow. New energy flooded into Mal. Grinning viciously, together with her shadow she wrestled her enemy off of her and brought him face first to the ground. In a tight head lock and with her knee in its back, The Shadow was caught.

Mal was then able to look around and discover why no one had come to help her.

Gil was crumpled on the ground and wasn’t moving. Uma and Hook were fighting back to back and with her injury and he armed with only his hook they were barely managing to stay alive. The thugs were using brute force to try and bash them all to pieces. One of the soldiers lay dead, his chest caved in. Blood poured from Noah’s face, his nose shattered, and Aziz held his sword awkwardly in his other hand, his right arm hanging limp and broken. The goblins were darting in to cripple legs and jump on backs and bite out chunks. Some of her goblins were smeared on the road where clubs had brought them to a quick and messy end.

Hot rage filled her mouth with a metallic taste. She didn’t have a free hand to point The Wand and help so she strangled The Shadow until it was thrashing under her. She couldn’t kill it but she could make it squirm. A monstrous roar replaced the anger with fear and she looked to The Beast and her friends.

The Beast’s eyes were a fiery gold and he seemed unable to decide who deserved his hate most and should die first. Shallow slashes were along his body and arms, courtesy of her friends. They fenced him in with their blades grimly, daring him to test them.

He dared. The Beast lunged forward and took a swipe at Evie who darted back with a dancer’s nimble feet.

Someone stepped in front of Mal. Facilier raised his cane to hit her. “Get your filthy hands off my shadow!”

She rolled, taking The Shadow with her and the globe of his cane bounced off the road. He growled and went for a kick but his foot met an invisible force.

“Sorry!” he called to his shadow, wincing.

“Guys!” Mal shouted, “Bring Ben over here!”

“Good idea. You will prefer that monster’s touch if you don’t LET GO OF MY SHADOW!”

Facilier swung his cane over and over like he was a golfer and her head was the ball – and the ball was not cooperating. She ducked and used The Shadow as a shield as she slid along the road. He whimpered in the pure need to kill Mal.

“Hey, ugly!” she heard Jay say, “Come over here if you’re so big and bad!”

“Yeah,” Carlos said with much less bravado, “Come get us.”

“You know what kind of beasts have horns? Goats and deer and sheep. Soooo scary,” Evie mocked.

Her friends backpedaled and The Beast stalked them, perhaps not understanding their words but hearing the challenge. They were nearly upon Mal and Facilier when The Beast jumped and her friends scattered. The Beast twisted in mid-air and landed and turning with a snarl he was now close enough to tear Evie open.

But Mal was ready. Legs tucked, she pulled The Shadow onto herself and kicked it with all of her magically enhanced strength. She didn’t see The Shadow go flying, but its crashing into Facilier and propelling him into The Beast’s arms was immensely satisfying.

The Beast breathed murder on Facilier. The villain blinked, thunderstruck, as his knees buckled and the only thing holding him up was, funnily enough, The Beast. He had dropped his staff and he was too paralyzed to even cry out let alone act to save himself.

The Beast’s eyes widened as he felt The Shadow on him. He dropped Facilier and reached up to claw at the something he felt around his neck. He shook his great mane but The Shadow must’ve held on because The Beast roared and flung himself around like a mad bull in a ring. Facilier screamed and tried not to get stepped on.

Jay, Carlos and Evie went to Mal’s side.

“Are you okay?” Evie and Mal asked at the same time.

Evie nodded, tears in her eyes. Mal scanned her friends and was relieved there were no injuries. They were very lucky.

“Finish this now,” Evie urged.

Mal pointed The Wand at Facilier, ready to say the spell that would kill him. But he was cowering so close to The Beast. “I can’t. I might hit Ben.”

“Look!” Jay pointed, “Facilier’s cane!”

And before Mal could say anything he was already running over to it – an object of dark magic full of voodoo tricks and infernal energies.

“Jay no!” Mal went after him, “Don’t touch it!”

It happened in a flash. The Beast suddenly changed direction and in his frenzy he crushed the cane underfoot and unknowingly rammed into Jay and sent him sprawling. Then, frustrated he couldn’t identify his assailant and enraged nothing he did was working, when The Beast noticed Mal he appeared to decide that she was the source of the attack.

Mal found herself picked up as easily as a doll and held aloft by one huge hand. She looked into a mouthful of razor sharp teeth. Her friends cried out in a panic. She jammed the point of The Wand into his chest, mind racing for a quick rhyme. But then The Beast stiffened. His jaws closed. Mal paused.

Nostrils flaring, he sniffed her and huffed, his hot breath pouring over her. He rumbled and the sound was cat-like. Mal frowned, uncomprehending. The madness in his gold eyes dimmed, his pupils expanded. He wasn’t staring at her like she was prey anymore. Mal’s heart lifted.

“Ben?” she whispered.

An arrow skewered The Beast’s wrist. He bellowed and dropped Mal. They both turned their heads to see Gil conscious and loading another arrow into his crossbow. The Beast bit the shaft and tore the arrow out.

“Want another one?” Gil asked.

“Don’t,” Mal choked out.

Gil cocked his crossbow. The Beast gave one last dark growl before bounding away. He tore past people and goblins and loped down the street, turning a corner and going out of sight.

“I’ll find him,” Gil said and ran.

“Stop!” Mal demanded but stupid, wool-for-brains Gil kept running.

Facilier stood up and slapped away the hair hanging in his eyes and tugged his suit back into place. The Shadow quivered at his feet like an eager hunting hound. “Ya’ll are going to be sorry you trespassed into my town.”

Mal felt the magical strength inside her wither and took out her sword, holding it in one hand and The Wand in the other. She and her friends joined Lonnie and the others in their circle. Four thugs lay dead and they hung back more warily now, unwilling to be next. Uma was leaning on Hook again. Mal pointed The Wand at her and said:

Hospitals are such a chore

Heal the harm and the sore

The red soaking Uma’s front vanished. Vitality returned to her face and she straightened. She gave the tiniest nod to Mal then faced the minions and flourished her sword. “Come at me now, you thumb-sucking apes, and I promise it won’t be close to a fair fight.”

Hook laughed.

Mal quickly cast the same spell for Noah and Aziz as Facilier came to stand behind his minions to yell and cuss them out. Mal eyed him, looking for an opening so she could spell him.

Lonnie touched her shoulder. “You have to leave.”

“What?”

A thug gave a battle cry and ran at them, swinging his club to break bone and crack skulls. Mal raised her sword but Lonnie grabbed the back of her jacket and pulled her out of the way. Lonnie dodged the club and jabbed her blade into the thick meat of the thug's bicep. He howled and she stepped back from his next wild swing.

“We’re losing time,” Lonnie said while she dodged blows, “You need to get to Cruella before she escapes or orders a massacre.”

“Are you crazy?” Mal asked, “I can’t leave, you need The Wand.”

Lonnie struck and cut the thug’s arm again. He could now barely lift his club. “We can handle Facilier, his cane is destroyed and that shadow can’t take all of us. We need both of the Wardens dead so take Carlos and go!”

The thug rushed Lonnie with a cry and she dashed in close and drove her sword into his belly. He dropped his weapon and clutched his stomach in dull surprise and when she took the blade out he fell to his knees.

Mal looked at Evie.

“We’ll be fine,” Evie nodded.

“We swear to protect your allies Mistress. My fallen brothers will be honored with dirt soaked with your enemy’s blood!” Blibtogs shook his fist, eyes bugging with passion.

Mal clenched her jaw, sheathed her sword, and grabbed Carlos. They went for a gap between the thugs and sprinted. Facilier didn’t dare send his shadow after them and leave himself unprotected and could only scream after them. “You’ll get yours, little girl! Oh there’s a storm coming your way, no mistaking that!”

Chapter Text

When Cruella had first landed on the Isle of the Lost the first thing she did was make an appeal to Auradon for her custom Rolls Royce to join her in exile. It was ignored. For one, prisoners did not have the right to make requests. For another, no one else had a car on the Isle. What would anyone on that spit of land do with a car anyway?

Cruella persisted and claimed the car was necessary for her well-being.

This time she was refused with a letter that pointedly asked her to stop bothering the crew on the supply ships with her nonsense.

It took a series of arson attacks and a few murders to convince management to just give Cruella the damn car.

One of Cruella’s few pleasures would be to drive her baby from her house to the Isle’s spa, which was little more than a room with a crack in the ground where some steam would rise. Carlos loved spa days. He had the house to himself and didn’t have to work like a slave for his mother. He could read a book or work on his inventions or simply, blissfully, do nothing. Sometimes his mother would stay at the spa for a whole weekend. But the danger in being caught slacking off was great. Cruella used to slap him around if she caught him at it on her return.

What he’d needed was a way to know when she was coming home. So he’d built a basic tracking device and sneaked out one night and taped the transmitter on a bar right above the pedals of her car. From then on, he would use the receiver to see where Cruella’s car was and would be busy cleaning or cooking or tending to her possessions every time she walked through the door.

And now, he used that same receiver to track her down with the same old logic: where you found that car, you found Cruella.

“How far?” Mal wanted to know.

“About five blocks,” he said, looking at the tiny screen. He jiggled the antennae. “Wait, four blocks.”

“Carlos…”

“This hasn’t been used in years. We’re lucky there’s good lithium batteries in the transmitter or it wouldn’t work at all.”

Mal huffed but went back to scanning for threats in the dark. He knew she was mad they had to leave their friends behind. It was why he didn’t comment on the fact that she was positively covered in algae. She was like a walking, talking giant glow-stick.

He wished he could borrow a bit of Mal’s confidence, or even her impatience. Carlos knew that in her mind she’d already defeated Cruella. But he struggled to put one foot in front of the other and keep the fear at a level where he could still function. He believed that none of his friends were as afraid of their parents as he was of his mother.

They arrived all too soon. If they’d been without the tracking device and happened to walk by the house, it would’ve been obvious Cruella lived there. He knew her tastes and this white art deco mansion with roman columns fit her like a glove. It was also the only building not splattered with algae and the lights were on inside. 

“Mal, are you sure we shouldn’t wait for back up?” Carlos whispered, “We could stake out the house and make sure she doesn’t leave and –“

“Don’t be a wimp,” Mal said, “Come on.”

Mal spelled the large black gate to open and it swung on its hinges and invited them inside. There was no lawn or garden, just smooth, clean pavement leading to the front door and the garage. He put the receiver back in his jacket pocket and took out his sword. As they walked across the courtyard he looked for watching eyes in the windows, feeling sure his intrusion was being observed.

The garage door was shut and had a paranoid number of padlocks. Mal broke them with magic and both of them slowly and quietly rolled up the door until they could squeeze under.

A light shone on the Rolls Royce, its black and red exterior polished to a gleam, the tires a spotless white and the “DEV IL” number plate on proud display. Lucifer, he hated the thing. His mother used to supervise while he washed it and would fly off the handle at every imagined misstep.

“Look. Its got a new hood ornament,” he said bitterly. It was a naked silver woman, her hair blowing and her head and arms thrown back in a pose of exquisite freedom.

“When it's over, you can key the car if you like,” Mal offered. Out of the dark and in the fluorescent lighting the algae didn’t glow and was merely muck.

He shrugged non-committedly and they went along the car’s sleek length and went through the door for the house. Air conditioned cold hit them and light jazz drifted to them from somewhere. They followed the sound to the main hall and for some reason he was uncomfortable with them tracking dirt across the tiles and through this white, palatial house. Maybe his subconscious still believed he’d be the one cleaning it up. The jazz flowed down a grand staircase guarded by two onyx sphinxes with wings raised in a threat.

Mal went up first and he followed at her heel. Everything in the mansion from the wallpaper to the furnishings were either black or white with some gold or silver touches and it gave the impression of being overdone. The abstract paintings, faintly erotic statues, antique candelabras and the vases, figurines and knick-knacks on delicate little tables were of the highest quality. But all together it was a bloated extravagance that was so Cruella.

They stopped by the door where the music was loudest. It was open a crack. Mal glanced at Carlos and he bit his lip. Mal took the door knob and mouthed, “One, two, three!”

She whipped open the door and thrust her wand out and Carlos flung his sword over his shoulder, ready to bring it down in a chop.

Cruella was spread out on a chaise lounge in the middle of the room. She gazed at them and brought her long cigarette holder to her ruby lips.

“So,” she blew out the word with a stream of green smoke, “That’s why my phone has been ringing off the hook.”

Carlos was dazzled by her appearance. He’d only seen his mother shabby and cheap and not…well, rather beautiful. What once had been a gray streak was now a white stripe in her glossy black hair. Her thick fur coat was like a blanket of new snow and had fallen off her shoulders to display the diamond snake necklace twisting around her neck and dipping down to her cleavage. She wore thigh length red boots and a beaded black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline that showed a disconcerting amount of caramel skin. This was the glamorous Cruella he’d never known. And yet in a way she still looked the same: hard and sharp and cold.

“Sweetie, the grunge look doesn’t suit you,” Cruella said, looking Mal up and down, “I know about these things. I convinced dear Facilier to get rid of that ludicrous top hat and I think you’ll agree he’s better for it.”

She didn’t say anything to Carlos. Just gave him a smile that broke out every goose bump he had in him.

“Facilier is being taken care of as we speak. There’s no one coming to help you,” Mal said.

Cruella sighed like a little girl and stretched to the nearby table and tapped cigarette ash on a gold tray. Next to the tray was an old record player spinning vinyl and crooning jazz. Did jazz always sound so menacing? She puffed on her cigarette and fiddled with the huge diamond on her finger, still stretched out on the lounge like she hadn’t a care in the world. 

Carlos didn’t like this, not one bit. She was too calm.

Mal was disgusted. “You’re not going to fight back? Some villainess you are.”

“I’m a lady,” Cruella sniffed, “and these nails are new. But if you insist on something so crude as a fight…”

She reached over to tap the ash off her cigarette again and high-pitched, demented giggles came from behind them. Mal and Carlos whirled around. Two spotted hyenas stalked into the room. He yelped and even Mal took a step back. One hyena was fat and the other was leaner and taller and both wore red dog collars. The tall one laughed and lunged for Mal. She gave him the arm which held The Wand and the hyena bit down. She screamed.

The fat hyena charged. Squealing, Carlos turned and sprinted and the hyena laughed as if this was the most hilarious thing ever and pursued him. Cruella was disappearing through another door. Carlos ran past the chaise lounge, overturning the table and smashing the record player, and dropped his sword and climbed up a marble statue. If he wasn’t mistaken, he had his legs wrapped around the face of Aphrodite. The hyena stretched up and snapped his yellow teeth. He whooped and hollered and Carlos was sure the strange throaty noises would haunt him the rest of his probably short life.

Mal came, the hyena turned to face her, and she hacked into his thick neck with her sword. The animal gurgled. She swung again and his head rolled off and his body fell. She wiped the blood from her blade and sheathed it. Carlos shimmied down the statue and picked up his sword.

“Your arm,” he said.

“I healed it.”

Carlos looked past her to see the hyena who attacked her dead on the floor. She’d sliced his throat while he chomped on her arm.

“Isn’t the king going to be mad you killed some of his people?” he asked.

“They weren’t his people. I saw the name tags on their collars. ‘Jasper’ and ‘Horace’. Now let’s go run down Cruella.”

The door his mother had gone through opened to a cavernous room. They stood on a metal landing overlooking hundreds of clothes racks. It was Cruella’s fur vault.

Mal turned and cast a spell on the door:

Please lock it well

Till all is swell

“Don’t make your end so pathetic, Cruella. There’s no point hiding!” Mal shouted into the vault, “You’re locked in here with us and I have The Wand.”

Carlos grimaced. He believed it was more a case of they were locked inside with Cruella.

They went down the stairs and when Mal reached the bottom and made to step onto the floor Carlos seized her arm. “No wait! She’ll have traps!”

She blinked. Years ago he had showed her the scar on his leg from a misadventure in Cruella’s closet. Her furs were her treasures and she’d always kept them safe from thieves and sneaks and offspring who wandered too close to her collection.

The floor was luxuriously thick shag carpet and he and Mal eyed it with suspicion. She waved The Wand in the air:

Spring the trap before our feet

Make our journey nice and sweet

Nothing happened except The Wand’s tip glowed extra bright. She lowered her foot and it sank into soft white fluff. Holding The Wand before her, she led the way into the maze of furs. Carlos kept his sword ready.

CLANG - Metal teeth sliced through the carpet a few feet in front of them and mashed together in a whip-quick snap. The bottom drop out of Carlo’s stomach. The jaws of the bear trap were the width of his chest. He didn’t remember them being that big on the Isle.

“I don’t suppose there’s a chance she’ll step on one of these?” Mal grumbled as they scooted around the trap.

He shook his head. “She’ll have memorized where every single one of them are.”

They went deeper into the vault, choosing their path at random and keeping a wary eye out for his mother. The magic sprung the traps ahead of them, making Carlos flinch every time. They passed rows of striped furs, spotted furs, pelts and hairs of so many colors and belonging to many different species. The lines of racks were occasionally broken up by towering masses of skins and leathers. Some of them had been turned into coats, capes, hats and gloves. But perhaps there were just too many because most of the leathers and furs were still in the shapes of their former owners. The limp heads of foxes, jackals, dogs and cats stared with empty eye sockets at Carlos as he went by. It creeped him out to no end.

CLANG

He and Mal froze. The Wand’s magic hadn’t triggered that bear trap. They shared a look and went in the direction of the sound.

Carlos sucked in a breath. “Did those coats move?”

Mal looked at the rack he pointed at. “I don’t see anything. Stay chilled Carlos.”

They turned a corner and the sprung bear trap was there in the middle of the path.

“She must’ve triggered it accidentally,” Mal whispered, “She’s close…”

There was a creak, a shadow fell on them, and it was all the warning they had as a massive stack of leathers toppled over. Carlos gasped and stumbled back and the stack just missed him but it slapped onto Mal. In a blink, she was completely engulfed and he couldn’t see even a single lock of purple hair.

“Mal!” he screamed and kept screaming as he dropped his sword and plunged his hands into the pile to dig her out.

That’s when Cruella slammed into him.

He lay flat on his back as she stood over him with a manic grin.

“Come to Mummy darling.”

Fear swamped him and he turned and began to crawl away. She dropped down and dug her long, cat-like nails into his skin and forced him onto his back again. Carlos shoved at her, tried to push her away, but they shared the same wiry muscles and like him Cruella was thin, not weak. She caught his wrists and he whimpered. She pressed down on him and laughed and laughed, her insanity in full bloom.

Cruella put her face in his and the putrid smell of her cigarettes was an assault of its own. “Naughty pup. You’ve upset me. Mummy’s upset. You should’ve stayed where I put you like a good boy,” her expression twisted, “A pet that bites back needs to be put down.”

Her hands wrapped around his throat and squeezed. Carlos choked and panic washed through him. He reached for her face but could only graze her chin, he tried to pry her fingers loose but they were cinched around his neck. Thrashing wildly, he tried to throw her off, but Cruella continued to straddle his stomach. Her grin reappeared, slowly stretching across her face until it was obscenely wide. It was going to be the last thing Carlos ever saw.

What, Jay said in his ear, are you doing? I have made you eat dirt every other day for your entire life. I know you’re better than this. Fight her!

Oxygen deprivation, Carlos knew. Imagining things.

Focus, Jay growled, Grab the wrist and elbow of her left arm. Hook her left foot with your foot. Flip her! Now!

Carlos flipped her. Cruella squealed in surprise, her hold broken. Air rushed into his lungs. Now he was the one on top and he couldn’t allow her a second to recover. But his head was spinning and when he jammed his thumbs into her eyes he only managed to punch into one of them.

Cruella’s scream was deafening. Her nails raked down his face and he flinched at the pain. In her feral, screaming, enraged state he failed to pin her and she pushed him aside. He stood up and she went for him. He threw a punch that cracked against her jaw but she didn’t even notice and swiftly backhanded him. The blow made his ears ring and he nearly lost his footing. Her claws were in him again and she threatened to drag him down to the floor once more like a lioness bringing down her prey.

He shook her off and ran.

He ran. In a maze sprinkled with bear traps and no way of knowing where they were hiding. Each time he put his foot down he expected jaws to snap up and bite into his flesh and bone. But his mother was chasing him, cursing and spitting, and he knew if she got her hands on him again she would kill him. So he prayed to all the Powers and ran as fast he could.

He darted around a corner and glanced behind him. He couldn’t see her. He hid behind a coat rack and tried to breathe as quietly as possible. This would be a really great moment for Mal to appear and save him.

“I don’t need to be able to see in order to find you, pup,” Cruella called out. He caught a glimpse of black and white hair a dozen rows away from him and ducked down, watching through the gaps in the coats. “I know every inch of this beautiful place. I know the feel of every pelt. Ahh. Mink. Lovely. This silver tipped fox, I have plans for that one. And here, this wonderful Labrador coat is one of my favorites. So, so soft. But don’t take my word for it. Try something on!”

With a grunt she tipped over the rack beside her. The heavy coats pushed over the next rack and then the next, creating a domino effect. She pushed over another and another, and suddenly a wave of furs and pelts were heading his way. He went to the right – but those racks were falling too and he jumped back. CLANG. Metal teeth burst from the floor and seized a fox pelt in its jaws, right where Carlos had been about to step. He felt the blood drain from his face.

Carlos ran left and darted behind the nearest pile of leathers. He licked his lips and forced himself to think. He was smarter than Cruella and definitely saner. There must be something he could do, a way to beat her. He wanted to yell in frustration. He was good with technology, that was all! People came to Jay for his fighting skills and Carlos for fixing radios.

“Come out now and I promise I won’t have Facilier turn you into a dog. You can be a skunk. Or a sheep – I could take up knitting!” Cruella laughed long. She sounded close.

What did he have with him that might be useful? He turned out his pockets.

He had his smart phone. He could ring for help? Make funeral arrangements?

He also had the tracking device. Even more worthless. He could lob it at her head, maybe. What possible use was there in knowing the location of Cruella’s car –

His breath caught. He knew what he had to do.

When Cruella was almost upon him he stepped out in plain view. Her one good eye widened, the other was swollen shut and spilling blood down her cheek to stain the ruff of her coat.

Fifty seconds

“There you are,” she crooned, “Poor little whelp. Did I hurt your pretty face? Come here and I’ll make it all better.”

She took a step and he pointed at her. “Don’t move a muscle. Or else.” He thrust the receiver up in his other hand for her to see. “Do you know what this is?”

Thirty eight seconds

Cruella squinted at it. “A Gameboy?”

He grinned, cocky and triumphant. “It’s a detonation device. I press this button and the explosives I’ve planted go boom.”  

“You don’t expect me to believe you rigged my vault while you were running for your life?” she sneered.

“I didn’t bring them for your vault. I wanted to blow up what you love most. I like the new hood ornament by the way.”

Cruella stiffened. “You didn’t…”

Sixteen seconds

“No. I didn’t have time,” Carlos said and she relaxed. “So I just dumped the explosives in the garage. I was planning to go back after we dealt with you and do the job properly. But since I’m a goner, I think I’ll let your car enjoy a slow death and burn.”

His mother shrieked and poised to jump him.

Two seconds

He pressed a button.

The noise of the blast struck and reverberated like a distant clap of thunder. Cruella’s mouth fell open in horror. She dragged her nails down her cheeks and spun around.

“No! My baby!” she screeched as she ran, “No no no! I’ll save you! Mummy’s coming!”

She scrambled madly over the fallen coat racks, wailing at the delay, before dashing down the aisles. She was so terrified, so unhinged and so consumed with getting to her car as quickly as possible that the CLANK of a bear trap was inevitable. Carlos heard her scream when her leg was caught and he couldn’t help the pang of sympathy.

He carefully went back to where he’d planted his phone. On the screen, under an X eyed emoji it read: 0m 00s until kablooie!

He put the phone back into his pockets with the receiver. Then he climbed over the fallen coats and furs for a safe path back to where Mal was, overturning more racks when he needed to. On the way he passed his mother and didn’t look at where she flailed and moaned in agony.  

He called Mal’s name as he swept aside hides and dug down into the pile. He thought for sure she was dead. Then the leather shifted all on its own. A smile burst onto his face and he doubled his efforts. He whipped off a python skin and there she was, drenched in sweat and gasping. He finished unearthing her and pulled her to her feet. 

“What the hell took you so long? I almost suffocated,” she snapped.

He stared at her. “I went out for a smoothie. Sorry.”

She looked at the cuts and bruises on his face and the red handprints on his neck. “Where’s Cruella?”

He pointed in the direction. “She stepped on a trap.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“She panicked. There was an explosion.”

“Really?”

“Nope,” Carlos said, “But there’s an app for that.”

She grunted and rummaged around until she found The Wand.

“You know, we should make a strap for that so you don’t lose it,” he said.

“Great idea. I’ll tell Fairy Godmother next time I see her that I want to wear The Wand as an accessory. See how that goes down.”

Carlos guessed Mal was in a mood because she’d been taken out of the fight by someone she had never rated highly as a villain. He watched her slick back her hair and dust herself off.

“Back to business,” she said and waved The Wand meaningfully.

He looked down. “You go. I…I would prefer not to watch if that’s okay.”

She left him there and went to find Cruella. He found his sword and put it back in its scabbard. Then he sat down to wait. He tried not to think. No matter how terrible she was or what she had done, he had no desire to watch his mother die. Especially death via your greatest fear. For Carlos, it was slowly being lowered into a pit of hungry dogs – or maybe hungry hyenas. For Cruella, her fear went…deeper.

Cruella had not been born completely female. She was an intersex person. She’d had any physical maleness removed a long time ago but it hadn’t been enough for her to squash the shame and insecurity she felt. Her worst nightmare was to lose the femininity she had obsessively pursued all her life. The styled hair, the heavy makeup, the glamorous jewelry and furs she’d wrapped her body in, it was all an attempt to drown the “Y” she feared would pop up in her sex chromosomes and force her to become a sweaty, hairy, vulgar man.

Once the beauty and femininity she wore like armor was stripped from her and she was magicked into thinking she was turning into a man, Cruella’s heart would stop.

When Mal came back he got to his feet. She gazed at him, then smiled a little and ran her hand through his hair. The gesture never failed to make him feel better. He smiled back.

They realized Dr Facilier’s spells were broken when they left Cruella’s mansion. Outside, the sun was touching the sky, the air was clear, the city was a normal color and the citizens of Towering Heights were in the streets praising gods and crying and hugging each other, their human selves again.

“Well,” Carlos heard Mal mutter, “Don’t I feel needed today.”

While they went looking for their friends Carlos observed the people remembering how to walk on two legs again, exercising their voices and coughing up their last hairball. This was probably the happiest day of their lives. And Carlos found he was happy for them too despite the horrors he’d faced in the mansion. Or maybe because of them.

Helicopters and planes flew over their heads. The Auradon soldiers had arrived. He hoped the minions with the clubs were running scared.

The VKs crested over a hill, looking nearly as battered as Carlos had been before Mal had spelled his injuries away. Evie and Jay looked very relieved to have found them.

“Oh no!”

The scruffy dude had stuck with his friends despite everything and was padding along beside them. Carlos ran over and picked him up. “Mal he’s still spelled! What do we do?”

She looked at the dog for a long moment. “I take back my previous statement,” she said.

“What?”

“He’s not human Carlos. He’s just a dog.”

He stared. “What.”

She shrugged.

Huh. As it turned out, magic wouldn’t be required to scare him to death. Slowly, very slowly, he drew the dog away from his chest and held him at arm’s length. He didn’t dare drop him. It might set the canine off. It was a miracle nothing had provoked him yet.

The dog gazed at Carlos and wagged his tail.

“When he’s not pissing on me he’s kinda cute,” Hook said and patted the dog’s head.

“What are you doing? He’ll take your hand off,” Carlos hissed.

“I’ve lost one before, it’s not a big deal.”

“How sweet Carlos,” Uma drawled. “You’ve made a friend.”

Carlos frowned. Friends? With a dog?

Evie kept her distance. “He is cute. Once you get past the filthy hair, the smell, the fleas…shouldn’t you put him down now?”

“Don’t worry bro, if he was going to hurt you he would’ve done it by now,” Jay said.

The dog licked Carlos’s wrist, making him jump, and wagged his tail harder. Carlos looked straight into his eyes. And it was so, so clear, as if it were engraved on those chocolatey orbs: an overwhelming thirst to love and to bask in a love returned.

“He only needs a bath and maybe a haircut,” Carlos said as he brought him close, “Then he’ll be one cool Dude.”

“There you are!” Lonnie and the rest of the guards jogged over to them. “Cruella?”

“Dead,” Mal answered, “I’m guessing Facilier is as well?”

Noah slapped Aziz on the back. “The Shadow had Lonnie wrapped up and Facilier was laughing like a mad man when Aziz got him right between the eyes with his dagger. Best throw I’ve ever seen.”

“Have you seen the king?” Lonnie asked Mal.

“No. Hasn’t he come back yet?” Mal asked.

The captain shook her head and worried her lip. “We have our people looking everywhere. We can’t find him. Or Gil.”

“Maybe Ben ate him,” said Chad.

Everyone looked at him.

“You saw him,” Chad said defensively, “He was out of his mind. He was just an animal.”

“He would’ve turned back with everyone else after Facilier died,” Mal said, but she sounded unsure. Nervous.

Lonnie glared at her. “You will help us find him. Both of them. Now.”

Chapter Text

Everyone who could help in the search did but there was so much that had to be done. The High Wardens’ minions needed to be taken care of. There were citizens who needed to be gathered up and evacuated and any useful resources that could be uncovered had to go with them. Not a minute could be wasted; the enemy was marching toward them and the traps that would blow holes in their ranks needed to be made ready.

It came down to the royal guard and the VKs to find Gil and Ben, and they were running themselves ragged around the city. Mal was paired with Evie and everyone kept in touch by phone - which proved to be a nuisance more than anything.

When her phone buzzed yet again Mal answered against her better judgement, hoping for news.

“I still don’t understand why you can’t wave that stupid stick and teleport us to where he is,” Chad snarled in her ear.

“Then allow me to explain again,” she gritted her teeth, “Teleportation spells are location based. You need to specify a city or a castle or a road. If you don’t know where you want to go – “

“I know where I want to go. Wherever the king is.”

Mal hung up and slumped against a streetlight.

“I hate to join the chorus,” Evie said, crossing her arms with a sigh, “But are you sure there isn’t a spell that could help us?”

“You don’t think I would’ve used it by now?”

“I think you’re tired,” Evie said carefully.

“And covered in mud, sweat and hyena blood. But we can’t stop until we find Ben and Gil.”

They searched the streets that were either long abandoned or had just been evacuated. Mal’s logic was that The Beast would wish to avoid contact with people again like any wild animal and retreat to a quiet place. Twice they came across minions cowering in a bolthole. Mal was tempted to work out her frustrations on them but did the responsible thing and spelled them and called for soldiers to pick them up.

Her phone buzzed and she growled. “What?”

“We have something. Go to the west side of the city and head to the elementary school, the big brick building with the flagpole,” Lonnie said.

Mal and Evie found the school, saw the others just on the other side of the barrier and crossed it. They pushed through the VKs and guards to find what they were looking at.

There were impressions in the dirt, huge clawed footprints that could only belong to The Beast. Boot prints showed Gil stalking him after him.

Mal looked around. This was where civilisation ended and a blanket of woodland began, trees stretching to the horizon. Her heart sank. The Beast was moving much farther than she’d expected, completely under the sway of his animal instincts and delving into the best wilderness available. The Beast could disappear in this forest and never be seen again.

“I can track them now that we’ve got somewhere to start,” Noah said.

“And what’s the plan when we find them? How do we get Ben back from that…thing he’s become?” Aziz asked them all.

“Usually,” Lonnie said slowly, “True love’s kiss is the solution.”

Chad snorted. “You want us to find him a girlfriend? I’m sorry Captain, but no princess would want to kiss that.”

“There’s a real chance that true love’s kiss wouldn’t work anyway,” Mal spoke up, “Ben’s not been cursed, technically. He’s inherited some residual dark magic from his father’s old curse – a curse that was broken two decades ago, so there’s nothing to fix really.”

“What are you saying?” Lonnie asked, alarmed, “There’s nothing we can do to bring him back?”

“I’m saying the normal rules don’t apply here.”

“We’re not solving anything by standing around chatting,” Uma said furiously, already moving, “We have to find them first.”

“Hang on,” Lonnie blocked her way. “Mal can come with us. The rest of you stay here and help the evacuation.”

The VKs protested. Uma’s voice rose above the rest, demanding to know the reason why.

“The king is inside The Beast somewhere,” Lonnie said, “On some level, he must be able to recognize his friends and the people who care for him. With you lot, he might feel threatened. I would leave Mal behind too if it wasn’t for The Wand.”

She looked at Uma, who looked poised to barrel past and go no matter what anyone said.

“He nearly killed you,” Lonnie said, “There’s no reason he’d treat you any better the next time around. Is there?”

Uma glared.

Mal went and squeezed her shoulder. “It’s all right Mira. I’ve got this. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Uma turned her head. She summoned a smile as soft as a rose petal, perfectly in character once more, and wrapped her arms around Mal in a hug.

“If something happens to one of my boys,” Uma whispered in her ear, “the same thing is gonna happen to one of yours. Got me?”

Mal’s gaze flicked to Jay and Carlos. Uma let go, blinking prettily, the very picture of the worried friend.

The guards were already moving and Mal had no time to say anything to her friends. Jay nodded in acknowledgement and Carlos, holding his new pet, jiggled the dog's paw in a goodbye wave. Evie gave her a look that begged her to be careful. Noah took the lead to study the tracks and Mal brought up the rear, following the guards into the forest.

“If Gil’s dead,” Hook called after them, “take a picture for me! We have a standing bet for when we die: what body parts we lost and how many, and I want proof before I fork out the coin in hell!”

As she walked, Mal breathed in fresh air cut through with the scent of pine. It was heavenly after the contamination of the city. Welcome too was the sound of birds and the morning sunlight shining through the lush leaves. It cleansed Mal’s brain of Facilier’s oily fingerprints.

The Beast and Gil weren’t always considerate enough to leave impressions in the dirt. But it turned out Nobody Noah was a great tracker and would find some other sign of their passing. He knew how to tell if the leaves and needles of the forest floor had been disturbed, could spot snapped twigs or bent branches in the scrub and when flat, unmarked stone had been walked across. Even the moss and lichen seemed to be spelling out messages that were indecipherable for everyone but him.

“Where’d you learn this stuff?” Mal asked him, in some amazement.

“My dad taught me. I grew up near Sherwood Forest, so I had the perfect training ground.”

She wondered if she’d been raised by her dad if he would’ve taught her stuff. Not tracking, obviously. But he might’ve taught her how to build a rapport with a mark or to tell lies as quick as Jay licked his dinner plate. Things she’d had to figure out on her own.

Stop it, she scolded herself. You promised to forget about Dad till the war’s done.

Eventually, Mal found herself falling short of the pace the Auradonians wanted to set. As much as Mal wanted to push through her fatigue, she couldn’t, and Lonnie was annoyed they had to slow for her. It was getting embarrassing. Concentrating on the feeling, Mal realized it was more than tiredness. Inside, an alarm bell was tinkling. She looked at The Wand in her hand and it was glimmering extra bright, like it was happy.

Mal stopped short and groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and cursing her idiocy. Lonnie asked what was wrong.

“We’re on Towering Heights’ border,” Mal answered.

“So?” Chad asked.

“So. That way,” Mal pointed, “lies The Summerlands, a region that’s grown and fed on light magic. And I don’t mix well with light magic. The further we go, the weaker I’ll become.”

The corner of Lonnie’s mouth tipped down in displeasure. “We were counting on you teleporting us in case we need to get back in a hurry.”

“I didn’t plan this,” Mal said irritably.

“Can you do it or not?”

“Well I wouldn’t want to let the team down,” Mal said sweetly.

They noticed Noah was crouching and giving some scattered leaves more consideration than Mal thought they warranted.

“What is it?” Aziz asked.

Noah straightened and jogged through the trees, promping a pair of disgruntled squirrels to skitter up into the branches.

They found him crouched and staring at the ground again. It was more of The Beast’s footprints.

“His gait changed,” he pointed at the distance between footprints. “He sped up. I think he realized Gil was behind him.”

And there were the bootprints of Gil, The Beast’s dogged pursuer. Gil had more determination than Mal had credited him with.

“We have to hurry,” Lonnie said.

The other guards were breathing down Noah’s neck as he went from one sign to the next on the trail, barely spotting one before he drove on to find the next. The Beast appeared to have chosen the hardest route possible. He had them squeezing through the bushes and scrambling up and down inclines. But all the time they drew closer to the Summerlands and Mal’s bones ached and her stomach rebelled. At Lonnie’s whispered suggestion, Aziz came to her side to prod her along and try to make her keep up. She gritted her teeth and powered on until she kicked a root and nearly broke her toe.

Mal muttered blackly and backed up against a tree and sat down, “Give me a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute. Get up,” Lonnie snapped.

“Just one minute. That’s all I need. The Summerlands – “

“I don’t care about the freaking Summerlands!”

Mal blinked. The faces of the guards were hard with anxiety. “You want to get Ben back, I get it. But you’re going to need my help to do it, aren’t you?”

“It won’t matter if he’s dead before we get there,” Chad said.

Mal frowned. When she realized their fear, she laughed. “Because of Gil? Don’t be stupid. Gil won’t kill him.”

Chad gave a derisive snort.

“You have met Gil, right? He doesn’t exactly scream ‘cold blooded killer’.”

“He’s the son of Gaston,” Lonnie said.

Mal rolled her eyes. “Of course. He’s a villain kid, so he can’t help murdering the king and getting himself and his friends executed. Brilliant.”

“Reason has never been a villain’s strong point,” she countered, “And revenge is a heck of a motivator.”

“What do you mean?”

No one answered her.

Mal crossed her legs. “I’m not moving until someone explains,” she sing-songed.

Lonnie sighed. “We have cause to be paranoid. It’s possible that Gil might’ve overhead or found out something while staying at the castle. He might know…how his father died.”

“Go on.”

“After the villains escaped, most took powerful positions in Maleficent’s regime. But Gaston wasn’t interested in that. He was always on the battlefield, killing. He was a merciless hunter. The tales of his brutality were…disturbing.”

Aziz cleared his throat. “It was one of the reasons King Beast choose to leave Auradon City and lead the charge. I think he felt…responsible for Gaston. He had to stop him.”

“Which he did,” Lonnie continued, “But Gaston managed to mortally wound the king before he died.”

“Bastard,” Chad said.

Lonnie levelled her gaze onto Mal. “If Gil has learned of all this during his stay with us…can you honestly tell me there’s no chance he doesn’t seek revenge for his father’s death?”

Revenge. It was a natural response to being wronged. Lonnie believed the bad guys didn’t prize reason but to hit back and hurt others when you were hurt was not only perfectly reasonable, but basic. And Mal remembered Gil’s face when Jane told him his father was dead.

“Let’s move our asses,” Mal said as she got up.

Sweat blinded her and she was so very tired, but she put aside all her discomfort and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Aziz’s hand was on her elbow, guiding her and keeping her upright.

The Beast was more than a match for Gil, surely? But King Beast had been felled by Gaston and Gil was like his father in many ways. Gil had put a bolt through The Beast’s wrist with no fuss. And at the worst possible moment too. It really looked like The Beast – Ben – had recognized her.

“Come on Mal,” Aziz begged.

“I know,” she ground out, “I’m trying.”

The others stood by a stream, agitated, and waited for her to catch up. As soon as she came Noah crossed the stream and followed the prints up the muddy bank to where they continued through the trees.

“Have a drink, it’ll help,” Lonnie said.

Mal looked at the clear flowing water. “I’m not drinking that. And neither should you. That water runs from The Summerlands,” she smiled thinly, “Who knows? It could turn you green or give you a tail.”

Lonnie unscrewed the bottle she had just filled and poured it out while Chad spat and wiped his mouth frantically. Mal would’ve been more amused if she’d been less exhausted. They hopped on rocks jutting out of the water and crossed to the other side.

They went up the bank and Noah wasn’t there.

They spread out a little, expecting to spy him studying by a clump of pine needles or running a hand over scraped bark.

“Noah?” Lonnie called out. There was no answer.

“Oh god,” Chad moaned, “He drank some of that water. It’s made him invisible.”

“And mute?” Aziz frowned.

“I don’t think the water’s that messed up,” Mal said.

Lonnie took out her phone from her backpack and started to dial.

“Over here!” came Noah’s voice.

Lonnie exhaled in relief and they followed the sound. But they still couldn’t see him.

“Where are you?” Lonnie shouted as they walked.

“Over here!” he called back.

“Are you okay? Have you found Ben?” Aziz yelled.

Silence fell. They walked faster, desperately scanning the forest for him. Mal bit her lip. Had he found Ben? Was Ben hurt or dead? If that was the case, she’d murder Gil, the fool. Amidst the curtains of weeping willow trees, they slid carefully down a steep slope and found the beginning of a gully.

“Over here!” Noah said again from somewhere in the deep ditch.  

“Where?” Lonnie asked, frustrated, “We can’t see you!”

They went into the gully. Noah had sounded so close but when they reached the dead end, he wasn’t there.

“What the…” Aziz marvelled.

Around them, inlaid in the dirt and knotted roots, were teddy bears, tin cars and fire trucks, glossy haired china dolls, spinning tops, wooden soldiers and hundreds of marbles and rubber balls in-between. They were shiny and new and didn’t show a day of wear.

Chad reached out to touch one of the cars.

“Stop!” Mal said.

“Hey,” he grimaced, “It’s sticky.”

He pulled back but it was like his hand was superglued to the tin car. He put his foot to the wall and heaved backward but couldn’t budge it. Then he found his foot was stuck. He whined at this indignity, dumb to its significance.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Mal said and a bright light flared like a bursting sun.

She screamed and Mal covered her eyes. Tears squeezing out, she rubbed her eyes with the hand that didn’t hold The Wand but her vision remained white. Lonnie, Chad and Aziz were shouting in confusion and pain, blinded too. Something knocked into her and she ran into the wall of toys and as easily as that she was stuck, an insect trapped on sticky fly paper. Her head was turned with half her face plastered to a soft toy and her limbs were splayed out awkwardly on the toy wall.

“I can’t move!” Lonnie yelped.

“Me either!” Aziz said.

Chad made muffled, incoherent noises.

“Children, children,” a smooth and genderless voice spoke, “I pray thee, do not fight. Thou might hurt thyself.”

“Who are you?” Aziz demanded.

Not who. What. They’d been captured by an erlking. Mal tried to speak but half of her lips were smooshed against the enchanted toy and she could not form the words properly.

A soft chuckle. “Me? Dear one, I am a grizzled mist rising over the hills, a sad wind sighing in the willow branches. And would never be aught more without the blessing of fair company.”

Mal could hear Lonnie’s struggling to break free. “Let us go, whatever you are. We are the royal guard and we are on a mission to rescue the king.”

“O, nay, nay,” the erlking gently denied her, “Thee must stay. Thou art so beautiful. Thou art soaring delight, newborn breath, blossoms unfolding. I shall take such valorous care of thee. Stay here with me dear ones. Forever.”

With a squelch, the toys were pulled deeper into the dark earth and were taking Mal with them. Panic electrified her and she thrashed, accomplishing nothing. She was being consumed; mud oozed out and dripped down her like the saliva from a ravenous giant. Sucked in a little more and she was choking on soil, most of her body and half her face was submerged. She blinked her one free eye, trying to see, but it was all a blur.

“Mal do something!” Lonnie screamed.

But there was nothing she could do. She could not spit out a single spell. They were going to be entombed in this forest.

“What is this?”

She sensed a presence near her and shuddered at the radiation of Light.

“A scion of the Dark? How ghastly. But lo! The darkling holds our brightest star.”

With fingers dry as autumn leaves the erlking pried The Wand from her grip without effort. Fairy Godmother was going to be pissed at where her precious wand had wound up. Mal supposed that was some consolation.

“I shall not plant a bad seed alongside mine own darlings.”

The earth vomited Mal out and she slammed onto the flat ground. Shaking, she gasped for air. She could just make out the strange profile of the creature next to her. And there were the writhing, moaning shapes of Lonnie, Aziz and Chad, slowly sinking to their deaths.

“Begone.”

“Love to,” Mal replied, getting to her knees, “Really I would. But I can’t let them die. Who would ever believe it wasn’t my fault?”

There was a glow that could only be The Wand powering up. “If thee shall not wend willing, thee shall be forced.”

Mal dived for the erlking’s legs but it was like tackling a tree stump. The erlking kicked her away and she fell back with an oof. Mal threw her arms out and grasped nothing. She squinted for any sign of the erlking. And then it spoke:

Hearken, spirits of the feathered wing

Of sweet melody and joyous spring

O, pluck up this offending fairy

Drop her like seed, nut or sour berry

Fluttering things came down from the sky. Warbles and tweets tickled her ear. A little bird landed on Mal’s shoulder and she brushed it off. One went onto her other shoulder. She snarled and swiped at them and suddenly she was in a whirlwind of darting birds. The birds hooked into the material of her clothes and beat their little wings and amazingly she felt herself being lifted off the ground. She yelped and smacked them away but there were too many to fend off. She fought it but her arms were pulled irresistibly upward and then her feet were off the ground and she was kicking in mid-air. She was being flown up and out of the gully.

“Wait, wait!” Mal called down to the erlking, “I can help you. Let’s make a deal, one fey to another.”

“I has’t mine desire.”

“For now. But after my friends are gone who will come after and how many? I know how you can lure more children into your trap!”

She was climbing too high, up through the branches she flew. And if the humiliation of being transported by a flock of birds like an adorable princess wouldn’t kill her, the fall would. The birds stopped and hovered and she prepared herself to be splat against the earth. The rhythm of the wings changed and Mal began to descend. She looked down and her vision had recovered enough to make out the erlking’s face peering up at her. It was the color of sour milk and had no visible mouth or eyes, just indents where eyes should be. It was a blank, incomplete face, as inhuman as could be.

The birds set her on her feet. She exhaled.

“I shalt not release the dear ones,” the erlking said immediately.

“For a greater prize, a wise hunter will sacrifice a morsel to bait the trap,” she gestured around her, “This was an excellent trap a hundred years ago and I’m guessing that was the last time you had company. Am I right?”

The erlking didn’t answer.

“You got us here by pure luck. Your bait has expired. I mean spinning tops? No kid wants to play with those. The children in this era wouldn’t touch these toys even if they were dipped in sugar.”

“The blond one did touch them,” the erlking said defensively.

“He’s blond,” Mal shrugged, “And incredibly stupid. Not many are like him. I can bring your enchantment up to scratch and make it the trendiest, shiniest, most drool-inducing attraction that will have children flocking here from miles away.”

The erlking tilted his twig-crowned head, considering.

“All I ask in exchange is my friends safe return. And The Wand back, of course.”

“The Wand? Greedy darkling.”

“I need it. How else will I improve your trap.”

The Wand glowed within his long fingers. “Thou seeketh to trick me. I can make the changes alone.”

“But do you know what to ask for? And it’s not like you’d use The Wand for anything else. All you truly wish for is what I can provide, and The Wand won’t harm innocents.”

“Harm? I treasure children,” the erlking protested, “I love them.”

She looked at where the others were suffocating in the mud. “Right. Do we have a deal or not?”

“They shall flock to me?”

“Too many to count.”

The erlking stretched out its free hand to her. Her vision was almost clear now. From what she could tell, the erlking’s body was like twisted wood and dozens of moss cacoons hung from its chest. Peeking out of the moss were infant faces made of clay. Mal shivered. The swaddled babies had expressions of deep, deep slumber.

Mal brushed her fingers against its own.

“We has’t an agreement,” the erlking said and gave her The Wand.

“Great. Now release my friends.”

It sighed. The toys broke through the dirt again and the three guards were regurgitated and deposited to the forest floor. Lonnie sucked in a breath and got up and drew her sword.

“Hold, captain,” Mal held out a hand, “We’re not going to fight. A bargain has been struck.”

“Like hell! That monster tried to kill us! It wants to kill children! I’m not letting you – “

“Do us all a favor and be quiet for once,” Mal said and waved The Wand:

Rewrite enchantment with new code

Copy the latest trends and upload

Electronics make the best toys

Fit for the modern girls and boys

All play without plastic is excluded

Assemble with batteries included

The old toys were wiped out like mist blown by a strong wind. In their place sprang up video games in their shiny cases, handheld devices, remote helicopters and planes, miniature robots and aliens, talking plushies, crying plastic babies as well as hundreds of other things that lit, flashed and dazzled.  

“Children…shall liketh this?” the erlking asked.

“I don’t see the appeal myself,” Mal admitted, “But yeah. There’s not a kid in Auradon who wouldn’t love this.”

Chad and Aziz were on their feet. Mal took Lonnie’s arm and began pulling her away. The erlking’s eyeless gaze tracked them as they backed up.

“Thank you for inviting us into your lovely home. It’s been…interesting,” Mal said, trying not to slip in the mud. If one of them went down, she didn’t think the erlking would be able to resist pouncing. “Happy hunting.”

“I shall remember thee, darkling. Thy scent, thy voice. Best hope I do not come to regret our meeting.”

Mal only smiled. As they left the gully, they kept glancing behind them but the erlking not follow. No one said anything, as if speaking would endanger the pardon they had received. They scrambled up the slope and then broke into a run, fleeing from the copse of weeping willows.

They nearly bowled over Noah and recoiled from him with a scream. His mouth fell open in astonishment. They must’ve been quite the sight, covered in mud and jittery as vampires in a church.

“What happened?” Noah exclaimed, “Where did you guys go?”

Chad sputtered. “We were following you, you big lummox! You almost got us eaten! And where were you that whole time, huh?”

Aziz held Chad back long enough so that Noah could tell his part. Noah had gone up the bank and followed the tracks only a dozen feet into the forest and when they didn’t join him, he backtracked. But they had disappeared without a trace. He’d been searching for them for a few minutes before they’d charged out of the trees and crashed into him.

“It was more than a couple minutes,” Aziz frowned. “We separated for half an hour at least.”

“What? No way,” Noah said.

“And we went into that death trap because you were yelling for us,” Chad growled.

“I didn’t yell.”

Mal took pity on them all. “It was an erlking who called, using Noah’s voice.”

“An erlking,” Lonnie said haltingly, unfamiliar with the name.

“It’s an ancient Light Fey creature that preys on children – Noah missed out on the fun because he’s older. An erlking’s hunting grounds are always on the borders of the Summerlands,” Mal grudgingly added, “I should’ve realized sooner what we were getting into.”

“A Light Fey?” Aziz stressed the word, incredulous, “But it was going to kill us.”

Mal chuckled. “I would’ve thought our time together might’ve led you to suspect that Dark isn’t necessarily evil, and Light doesn’t always mean good. Especially the oldest breeds. They dance to a tune we can’t hear or understand.”

“Clearly, there’s a story needing telling. But The Beast’s tracks aren’t getting any fresher so tell it on the way,” Noah said.

Aziz and Chad took it in turns to relay their encounter with the erlking in whispers. Mal looked over The Wand as she walked. It refused to be smudged or stained by her filthy hands and retained its pure white and gold color. Even though she was surrounded by entirely too much Light right now, it was a relief to have The Wand back in hand. She was coming to rely on its magic. And that was perhaps unwise. But until she had a dark artefact of her own, she wouldn’t part with The Wand and its power by choice.

“What I don’t understand,” Lonnie said beside her, “is why that creature targeted us.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said it preys on children. We’re not children.”

Mal looked at her. “Of course we are.”

“No we’re not,” Lonnie frowned.

“We are and thank Lucifer for it. Being very occasionally hunted by a psycho fairy is a small price to pay.”

“I am not a child. I’m twenty years old!”

Mal laughed at her outrage. “It’s not an insult, far from it. Think about it. The only reason we have the chance to win this war is because we’re kids and adults are idiotic. We are creative, adaptable and open-minded and yet when we’re not being ignored, we are underestimated. Villain or hero, human or fey, everyone thinks that children aren’t dangerous.”

Lonnie chewed on that and spoke again before long. “I know it was the only way to escape…but I hate that you helped the erlking.”

“It’s been a long time since parents let their kids play in the woods as they please. And we can warn Towering Heights about it once the city is up and running again.”

“…Thank you,” Lonnie said without looking at her, “For saving us.”

“I’m not a complete bitch. Just don’t tell anyone,” Mal said and succeeded in worming a tiny smile out of the Captain.

“Ben!” Aziz shouted.

Mal’s heart missed a beat. Through some tall bushes she saw a crown of honey-brown hair. Caution forgotten, they slapped back the branches and ran into a clearing.

The Beast was gone and replaced by Ben, and he was sitting beside Gil on a log. The crossbow was across Gil’s knees and Mal looked for any arrows sticking out of Ben. There were none. Only then did it fully dawn on her that Ben was naked except for Gil’s jacket covering his lap. She looked away and hoped no one had seen her running her eyes all over him.

“Your majesty,” Lonnie’s voice was thick, “You changed back. You’re okay.”

“Yeah, I guess. My wrist hurts but its stopped bleeding,” Ben said.

Chad drew his sword and stepped toward Gil with a scowl. “Get your hands off that crossbow and step away from the king. Slowly.”

Gil’s eyes widened. Ben jumped to his feet, catching the jacket just in time and holding it to himself. Mal scratched her eyebrow and hid her face.

“Stop that right now,” Ben said fiercely, “He helped me Chad. I…that is, The Beast, ambushed him and was ready to kill him. But he talked me down and…I realised what I was about to do. I don’t know what would’ve happened if…” He swallowed. “I’m sorry for what I almost did Gil.”

Chad huffed, resenting his king apologising to a VK.

Gil grinned and stood. “It’s cool. I wouldn’t have liked having my head bit off. That’s a whole gold coin to Hook. But you weren’t thinking straight, I get it.”

Guilt continued to cloud Ben’s expression.

Guilt. For attacking the son of the man who killed his beloved father, the one who had hunted him through the forest like a true son of Gaston. If Mal had been in Ben’s place – hell, if anyone had been, VK or Auradorian – no one would’ve thought Gil’s death an injustice. But Ben would’ve never forgiven himself. Because he saw Gil as Gil, and not as the son of Gaston.

As if feeling the sharpness of her focus, Ben turned his head and looked at her. She stiffened. “I’m fine,” she said, anticipating his question.

He became even graver. “And Mira?”

“I healed her. Everyone’s okay.”

He went quiet.

“Cruella and Facilier are dead. Our forces are in the city and the citizens are being evacuated,” Lonnie said.

Ben nodded slowly. “Good. That’s good.”

“Seriously, sire,” Noah said, “Thank the gods you are safe and back to normal. We hadn’t a clue what we were going to do when we caught up. I’d hug you if you weren’t starkers.”

“Yeah. I want to throw that dagger at Facilier all over again for turning you into that monster,” Aziz muttered.

Ben tried to smile.

Mal stepped in and beckoned them closer. “King Ben needs healing. And clothes. And I can’t provide either; I have enough in me to teleport us back to the castle and that’s it.”

“But we can’t go back yet. I haven’t gotten Dizzy a souvenir,” Gil pouted.

Mal dug her fingernails into his arm. “I have wrestled with a shadow, been mauled by a hyena, nearly drowned in dead animals and then was trapped by an ancient fey who almost buried me alive and dropped me to my death while I was being poisoned with Light magic. We are leaving without a souvenir and I am having a shower.”

Chapter Text

Mal had been wandering the old school, then Castle Beast and then she found herself outside Ben’s study. Hesitating, very nearly turning away and going back down the hall, she knocked on the door. Aziz opened it and gave her a friendly smile and moved to let her in. It was too late to back out now. She went in with no plan and no real clue as to why she had come. 

Ben was on the balcony, half in shadow between the deep night and the light from the study. He turned at her approach and the corners of his lips quirked.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” he asked.

She chuckled. “Are you kidding?”

Aziz kept to the study and gave them space. She and Ben leaned on the railing and stared out into the darkness. Crickets chirped a lazy beat below and the stars blinked sleepily above. Beyond the trees the ocean reflected the lopsided grin of the crescent moon. One could almost believe that the entirety of Auradon was like this, completely secure in its tranquillity.

“I haven’t had the chance to apologize to you yet Mal,” Ben broke the silence, “For The Beast…if I scared you...”

“Mira told me that over these past few days you’ve apologized to all the people you know. And their distant cousins. Aren’t you sick of it?”

“No, I’m not,” Ben bowed his head, “When I think about what I was like…the things I almost did…”

She glanced behind her at Aziz. She edged closer to Ben and lowered her voice so they couldn’t be overheard.

“What did it feel like? Being The Beast?” she asked.

He looked at her, surprised at the question, and answered quietly. “It felt…like someone else was in control. But not a stranger, someone I knew well. I understood him and the things he wanted." Shame crinkled his face, “Everyone I talk to tells me to forget about it. My guards keep reminding me that Facilier is to blame. Fairy Godmother says it was an unlucky flare up of my dad’s old curse. That none of it was my fault.”

“But that’s not entirely true, is it?” Mal tilted her head.

“No,” Ben swallowed, “The Beast…wasn’t born from nothing. He came from inside me. He's still there. I can feel it.”

Mal shook her head in disgust. Auradon was a fucked up place. To think that it was necessary to point this out, to stop Ben from thinking he was broken. She caught his gaze with hers and willed him to hear her. “Everyone has a dark side, Ben. Whether they admit it or not. The only difference between you and your friends is that you now recognize yours: it has fur and horns and wicked fangs. So what? You’re still the same person. You’re going to be fine.”

“You're saying there’s a part of me that wants to hurt people,” he said sadly.

An exasperated sound escaped her. “There’s a side to you that’s fierce, free and pretty damn powerful. I wouldn’t be so quick to lock it up. And besides, you came out on top in the end. The Beast didn’t kill Gil and I know it stopped itself from killing me.”

Emotions flew across his hazel eyes too fast to pin down. “Yeah. Even The Beast knew how wrong that would’ve been. Hurting you.”

She blinked. They were standing too close and Mal turned her head and slid away from him. She gripped the railing and rocked on her feet, trying to think of words to say. Any words.

“Did you think we’d ever be talking like this?” Ben said.

“Like what?” she asked cautiously.

“Like friends. Me telling you about my problems, you reassuring me that I’m not a complete monster.”

She snorted. “You are right. I didn’t imagine that when I was stuck on the Isle.”

He gave her an almost shy look, which put her guard up again and she braced herself. “You know, for years I had this idea - I guess you could call it a dream. I wanted to create a program where the Isle kids could go to school here and have a fresh start and they could learn responsibility and the importance of friendship and community and what being good truly means.”

Mal laughed in his face. “Thank the gods that never happened! The kids would’ve been bored out of their minds. Can you imagine Hook in a classroom? Or Jay? Reading math books and doing homework? And those humble and oh so forgiving Auradon kids mixing with the likes of us. Ha. The city would’ve been on fire in the end.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking back into the night, “I’m sure my parents would’ve said the same if I’d ever told them. But the war started and there was no way I could make it happen, so I never told anyone.”

Remorse speared her insides and made her cringe. She wanted to undo her cutting remark and say something less…less Mal. But she couldn’t, so she offered up her own secret: “I had a dream too, for years. Except it was an actual dream. I would be standing by this lake and whether it was day or night the water was as clear as glass. There was nothing so beautiful on the Isle. And I’d just look at it. And then…well…you know what? Never mind.”

“No, go on.”

Mal fidgeted. “Forget it. It was nothing.”

Ben touched her arm. He caught her gaze, as she had done to him minutes before, and a pry bar couldn’t have forced her to move or look away. Was she breathing? She didn’t know.

“Please tell me,” he said.

“Well,” she quavered, trying to think, “Then you would turn up out of nowhere and we’d walk on the shore and talk like we knew each other. It was obviously a metaphor for Auradon and how nice things are here and how much I wanted to leave the Isle. So maybe you’re right, and in another life I would’ve liked to go to school here. Is what I was trying to say,” she finished lamely.

He lit up with a grin so bright the stars applauded. “It’s not too late, Mal. For any of it. After the war you can live the life you’ve been dreaming of.”

She shot a weak smile back. Her ambitions were much higher than strolling by a charming lake or sitting in a stiff classroom. Dreading that a silence would follow, or worse, a deeper probe into personal territory, she changed the subject: “It’s weird isn’t it? Sitting back, doing nothing and waiting for battle.”

Grimacing, Ben turned and leaned against the rail with his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. I never thought I’d be impatient for it. But anything’s better than waiting. Wondering. I keep asking myself what more I can do, and the answer is absolutely nothing. It’s maddening.”

“I know the feeling, trust me. But all we can do now is wait and see what good our traps did at Towering Heights. And be ready for the attack.”

“I am ready. Maleficent will have to kill me herself before she takes another region.”

“What steel. Is that The Beast talking?” she teased.

“Whoever it is, he means it. And thank you Mal,” he said, “We both mean that.”

Uninterested in learning the exact reason for his gratitude, she brushed it off. “Don’t mention it.”

333333333333333333

The dark and quiet of the night magnified every sensation of being with Chad. Evie was caged in his arms and his tongue plundered the vault of her mouth, wriggling and curling like a monkey’s tail. The bricks were hard and cold against her back but that didn’t matter. His hands and lips demanded bruises. Eyes scrunched closed at the force of the kiss, she slid against his hard body and pulled at his hair in frustration, trying to match blow for blow and equal his passion. When his hand dived into the cups of her bra Evie moaned approval. Underneath her excitement bubbled an acidic fear that at any second his interest might crumble and he could slip away from her.

He broke the kiss and they panted. She smiled and inhaled his scent of cologne, whiskey and peppermint while his hand continued exploring. Gratified by his lustful expression, she traced a finger down the long scar on his face. “This makes you even hotter,” she breathed.

It was the wrong thing to say. Chad grabbed the hand that touched him and held it in a vice. “Shut up. It’s not decoration.”

“I meant it’s cool because it shows how brave and strong you are,” she said quickly.

His grip tightened. “I got this scar when all my brothers were slaughtered.”

“Oh. You…you had brothers?”

“All knights of Camelot are brothers,” he said, taking his hands off her and stepping back.

She had shattered the mood. He looked ready to leave her in the courtyard and go back inside. She composed herself and radiated sadness, regret and compassion. The only way to recover was to push through to the end. “I didn’t know you are a knight.”

He grunted. “My parents thought it was the right thing to do when the war began,” there was a long pause in which she didn’t dare speak, “I didn’t want to study at Camelot at first and went there kicking and screaming. But when I graduated, I was proud. I went back home for the first time in years to visit my family and celebrate. After all the hard work I deserved it; one last bit of fun before a lifetime of duty, you know? And Maleficent invaded Camelot. Like she knew. She knew I wasn’t there to defend it.”

Evie imagined being cut off from Mal, from Jay and Carlos, in their most desperate hour. Of losing them like that. She would rather die. Real tears pricked at her. “What did you do?”

“I tried to cross the border, to help my brothers and fight beside Merlin. I got this,” he gestured to the scar, “for my trouble.”

“Oh Chad. I’m so sorry.”

He shoved her hard and she gasped and stumbled. “I don’t want anyone’s pity! Especially a VK’s. Don’t try and act sweet. ‘Oh, I’m sorry Chad, that’s terrible’,” he parodied her in a high, mocking voice. “Fuck off.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, despairing, “I..I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He stood there and fumed and he didn’t look handsome at all, eyes too small in his narrow face and teeth too big for his tight, twisted mouth.

Then the anger vanished and he softened. He went to her and smoothed her hair. “I know you didn’t mean to Evie. Next time think before you speak. That’s an Auradonian saying you wouldn’t have heard on the Isle.”

Evie inwardly sighed. He was once again a prince with perfect gold curls and a shooting-star grin. It was only natural that he’d snapped at her, it had been her fault, she’d unwittingly stepped on a sensitive issue. She smiled, happy she hadn’t managed to ruin everything.

“Enough about me. What about you?” Chad asked.

“Me?”

“Yeah. What was your life like on the Isle? What did you do for fun? How did you meet your friends?”

“You really want to know?” she asked.

Chad cupped her cheek, affectionately rubbing the spot beneath her eye. “I want to know about you, Evie. Tell me everything.”

Inside there was a miniature version of Evie that was biting her fist to keep from screaming. How she had longed to hear those words from a prince. Chad was as flawless as a golden apple from the gods. She was going to win him and never let him go. She was not going to screw this up.

Chapter Text

Sulking, Carlos sat on the bed with Dude and watched Jay and Aziz play the coolest video game a guy could dream of. There were skeleton filled dungeons and infinite explosions and Jay and Aziz were furiously smashing buttons on their controllers with eyes glued to the screen. They had promised Carlos a turn one hour ago. And then forgot he was in the room.

“Aziz, don’t bodyguards usually have to go somewhere and stay really still and quiet in order to do their jobs?” Carlos asked pointedly.

Aziz’s head turned a tiny degree in his direction. “Uh, Lonnie and Chad are with the king. I’ve got no other duties right now.”

“You have a duty to chop that undead’s head off,” Jay gritted his teeth, “Die! Die! Zombie scum!”

“Get the power-up!”

Jay pumped his fist in the air as the zombie’s bouncing, decapitated head let out a wail before that too exploded. Aziz clapped him on the back and then they both sent their avatars straight into battle again.

If the two got any cuddlier, this would have to be reclassified as a date.

Carlos tucked Dude under his arm. “Since no one cares, I’ll just go then.”

The two maintained their spot-on impression of victims of hypnosis.

“I’m leaving,” Carlos said again, “Maybe to look up Queen Belle’s skirt or something.”

Nope. Nothing.

He shut the door harder than necessary and knew they didn’t notice that either.

He went to the king’s castle and tried to walk through a war room without bothering anyone. People were on computers and phones, communicating with every free region and processing information on the war and informing those who needed briefing. He passed a smart table with a digital map of the country and even though he was aware what it would look like he couldn’t resist peeking at the impending disaster. A dark army, frighteningly strong, was poised in Towering Heights and waiting for the word to spill over the border into East Riding. Beyond the coast, Captain Hook’s magical ships were cruising the waters like sharks waiting for the feast they knew was coming.

Carlos shivered and quickly went into what he affectionately thought of as the ‘tinker room’, where tech valuable to the war effort was assembled, fixed and upgraded. It was an important job, being that technology was an edge Maleficent didn’t have. But it was tricky, as materials were limited and so many who were knowledgeable about such things had been killed. Thanks to Doug, Carlos was welcome here and he was hoping all the drool-worthy tech would put him in a better mood.

Why was Jay hanging around Aziz so much anyway? Aziz was Auradonian. Was Jay planning to keep him as a pet after the war? He was too thick-headed to see he was getting attached and it was all going to end horribly and why they couldn’t have picked a three-player game was beyond Carlos.

Dude licked his neck and Carlos jumped, bringing him back to himself. “I haven’t forgotten you buddy, I’ll take you for a walk soon.”

Then he did forget all about Dude; as if his eyes were drawn to it by magnetic attraction, he saw a sleek as sin smartphone and gasped.

“Morgana’s tits,” he exclaimed, “Is that the Opal 15?”

The room went dead quiet and he was glared at; being vouched for by Doug could only excuse so much. He flushed and mumbled apologies. Belatedly, he saw the hands that held the blue smartphone. It was that girl Jane, the king’s assistant and possible sprite. Carlos had never seen a sprite but he knew the magical creatures would be her carbon copy. She was a fragile thing and yet she was always hovering around, ready to aid, and could also flit away at a moment’s notice and disappear into the ether. Seriously, someone should DNA swab her and check.

Currently, she threatened to disappear on him and was staring, stricken at being the focus of his attention.

He approached with a safe, toothless smile. “That is the Opal 15 right? I remember the advertisements on TV. I never thought I’d see one in real life.”

“Yeah. It-it is. I just got them.”

To his delight, five more Opal 15s in different colors were on the bench next to her. “You’re so lucky. Is it really twice as fast at the Opal 14?”

“I don’t know. I can’t get any of them to work,” Carlos waited for more and she reluctantly continued without meeting his eye, “The war stopped them from ever hitting the shelves. But before that six Opals were gifted to the royal family in Agrabah as a kind of sneak peek. I don’t think they were ever used. They were dug up and sent here so we could make good use of them – but I think they’re broken. I’ve charged them and done everything I can think of, but they’re still dead.”

She gazed at the phones sadly. Carlos understood. Opals were works of art.

Carlos could go ask Aziz if he or his family had ever gotten them to work and therefore pull him away from Jay and their fun. But the chance to hold an Opal in his hand? Those two could have their stupid video game.

“Mind if I take a look? I’m pretty good at this kind of thing,” he asked Jane.

She gave him the phone very carefully, so their hands didn’t touch. He shifted Dude in his arms but managing both wasn’t going to work.

“Um, could you take him for a sec? He’s friendly, I promise.”

Her smile was subtle but didn't escape his notice when she took Dude. The dog blissed out as she rubbed his ears. Her smile grew. Dude was looking great - apart from the scabs no one would’ve guessed he’d been a street mutt and Carlos liked that there was someone besides him who acknowledged how irresistible Dude was.

The Opal 15 was pleasingly light but under the hood it was crammed with technological wizardry, making the smartphone in Carlos’s pocket no more sophisticated than a potato clock in comparison. “25% faster than the Opal 14 with a chip system that can complete over five trillion operations per second, four built-in mics with audio zoom, wireless charging with the longest battery life of any phone and a 12 megapixel ultra-wide camera with enhanced low-light performance and image stabilisation that can capture video at up to forty frames per second. Scratch proof, waterproof and completely safe from viruses or hacking – it is beautiful.”

“You remember all that from the ads?” Jane wondered.

Carlos realized he’d been muttering aloud and ducked his head. “Well, my friends would be the first to tell you that I’m a bit of a geek. And it is Schwartzvald tech. On the Isle I would’ve died to be able to touch any Vald tech, they make the coolest stuff.”

“Yes, they did,” she said softly.

Schwartzvald was an industry heavy region above the Wall and so of course had been swiftly conquered by Maleficent in the first year of the war. These Opal 15s were probably the only ones in existence.

“Let me see,” he mused and turned the phone over. He pressed the buttons in various combinations and tried all the things that Jane must have and had the same result. Carlos ran his eyes and his fingers down the glass and metal exterior. There was something, a slightly different texture about an inch wide on the back of the phone…

Carlos laughed.

“What?” Jane asked.

“Vald tech is too clever for its own good,” he shook his head and held out the phone to her, “Place your thumb right there.”

He held the start button while she did and the phone beeped a pretty jingle. “A thumb print scan for first activation, now its coded to your touch.”

She made a sound of pleasure and he edged closer so he could guide her through the rest of the set up. Then they flicked through the features and apps and she told him about her first Opal, how she’d knocked into someone and sent it flying into a pond.

“I asked Mom to fix it with magic but she said I had to learn the value of money and to take better care of my possessions. And by the time I saved enough allowance for another one, the next model had come out and it was too expensive.”

“You would have to drop this into a lava pit to destroy it,” he assured her. “Thousands of years from now the only surviving things will be cockroaches, twinkies and this phone.”

She gave him a shy, amused look. She went into camera mode and let him see take the phone for a better look.

“The resolution is incredible,” He turned and Jane’s face filled the screen, “You can see every bump and scrape.”

She looked down, red coloring her skin with pixel-perfect clarity and he shoved the phone down.

“I mean,” he stammered, “Not that there’s a lot of that to see. You’re okay looking. Uh, better than okay. I was just saying it’s a great camera.”

He looked around desperately for something he could take a picture of. She was pale and wary of him again and Carlos felt bad for it. Dude saw him looking and wagged his tail.

Carlos smiled. “I know, Dude can be our model! He wants a walk anyway.”

He took her hand before she could say anything and led her outside. Dude wriggled until she put him down and he ran for the lawn, barking his little head off. Carlos offered Jane her phone.

She looked like she was questioning how she had got here, talking with a VK and taking photos of his dog. But Dude flopped onto his back and she giggled at the blurry photos of him convulsing on the grass with ecstasy and showed Carlos. Dude then proceeded to rebuff every attempt of getting a better shot, showing off his big chocolatey eyes and furry ears before turning to put his butt into frame.

“Not even an Opal can make that look nice,” Carlos said.

Jane giggled, a bubbly champagne sound. For some reason, he stuck out his open hand.

“Carlos,” he introduced himself, like she hadn’t known his name all these weeks, like they’d never met before.

Jane looked him straight in the face with her big, blue eyes. She took his hand gently and pumped it once. “Jane.”

After chasing Dude all around the lawn they managed to finally get a decent shot. They put on different filters and affects, giving him a cartoon hat, love heart eyes, a halo – which Carlos guffawed at. The imp didn’t deserve a halo.

“You really love him don’t you?” Jan said suddenly.

“Sure I do,” he said, and realized it was the first time he was saying it out loud. He loved his dog. There was something in this world he really loved. He bit the inside of his cheek, startled by a rush of feelings. “Yeah, I do. Last thing I expected.”

He thought about Jay again and his affection for Aziz. Was Carlos any smarter, getting attached to something he’d found in Auradon? Perhaps it was starting to get out of hand. Evie was disappearing lately, the way she did when she was hooking up with someone. A safe bet it was that Chad guy. Hell, even Mal was more distracted and distant than usual, having hardly any time for them at all. He felt like he and his friends were being pulled in different directions, that Auradon was casting a strange spell.

The greatest surprise and disappointment was that he’d gotten his own back against Cruella and it hadn’t changed anything. Except that he was emptier.

“Are you okay?” Jane asked.

“Yeah.”

“Thinking about East Riding?” she asked. A reasonable guess.

He shrugged.

“I’m sure it will turn out all right. I trust King Ben. He’ll get us through the crisis.”

“That goes without saying,” a sugary voice came from right behind them.

Jane spun around with a squeak.

The Three Good Fairies looked at them both. Carlos suspected they’d flown in or he surely would’ve heard them walk up. Frowning, he glanced at Dude, who was busy digging a hole and earning another bath. He had no future as a guard dog, that’s for sure.

He couldn’t recall the fairies’ names. The women dressed in green and red had thin, polite smiles on their faces while the blue one scowled, fat cheeks bulging.

Jane began to babble. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you there. I mean, good afternoon. I guess I don’t need to tell you that though – being the Good Fairies,” she laughed and when no one laughed with her the sound drained away.

The blue one reached out a hand and brushed dog hair off Jane’s cardigan with a contemptuous flick.

Jane blushed. “I was trying out my new phone – it’s an Opal 15, you know, really cool – and um, taking pictures of Dude. Carlos’s dog.”

The fairies looked at Carlos. He had experience with strong, complicated women. He’d been fostered and threatened and ordered around by them all his life. The three fairies had soft, sweet faces and looked as harmless as ladybugs. The ‘good’ in their name was capitalized for Lucifer’s sake. But Carlos trusted the chill that went down his spine when he met their gaze. He bobbed his head in greeting and said nothing.

“We’ve just left your mother, the dear woman,” the green fairy said to Jane, “This dreadful business in East Riding has her flying around in a tizz and working the sparkle off her wand. She told us to send you her love.”

“She’s not coming back?”

“Not until the battle’s won.”

Jane looked down, worry pinching her face. “I wish I could be there with her.”

“And do what? Play Angry Birds on that infernal device while your mother fends off the enemy?” the blue one snapped.

“What Merryweather means Jane,” the green fairy said sadly, “Is that it’s a pity you don’t take after your mother. If you’d been born with magical ability you'd be a tremendous help.”

“Though I must say,” the red fairy’s wings fluttered in agitation and she hovered a few inches off the ground, “That's no excuse to frolic with a villain kid.”

Jane sputtered but produced no words.

“We weren’t frolicking,” Carlos said. That’s a word he hadn’t thought would ever come out of his mouth.

The red fairy gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fighting villains is like following a recipe. The meal your cooking may vary but the method is always the same. You use the same equipment cooks have used long before you - no newfangled nonsense. You must be patient and determined but most importantly, you must use only the best ingredients. Jane, don't let your unfortunate situation tempt you to rely on,” she glanced at Carlos, “improper alternatives. Just something to think on, sweetheart. Now please excuse us. Lots to do."

She flew up into the air and her sisters followed, but not before the cranky blue one pointed at Jane’s phone. “And read a book if you have nothing better to do. Those things will melt your brain.”

Carlos turned to Jane. And a muscle in his heart stretched too tight. Her chin was quivering. She hugged her phone to her chest and ran.

“Jane!” he cried out. But she didn’t stop and he didn’t run after her. What could he say? Even if he knew, his words would carry no weight. He was a VK, she was Auradonian. There was no getting around the facts.

Chapter Text

Harry Hook quickly discovered that he had a profound hatred and distrust of helicopters. His jaw ached but he couldn’t unclench his teeth and he had to hold his hook to keep from slicing into his own thigh each time the copter shifted. And there was this infernal whine from the copter’s blades that his headset couldn’t cancel out completely. It was maddening. Jay sat opposite and was smirking at him. Hook wouldn’t be at all surprised if the metal bucket that was hurtling them through the skies broke apart. Who’d be laughing then? 

His headset crackled and the pilot spoke. “We’ve arrived at the rendezvous point.” 

Anticipation bloomed and not just because it meant he’d soon be freed from this ridiculous excuse for a vessel. The other VKs wriggled in their seats and looked out at the region of East Riding. But Hook couldn’t care less about the land or the city. In his mind’s eye, he saw the sea. And the delightful gifts she had ready for him, finally. 

The helicopter banked and he hissed between his teeth. But a flash of light made him look out the window. “Bloody hell.” 

Maleficent’s army was a vast darkness set to devour East Riding and the world. Armor gleaming in the sun, Auradon’s forces formed a defence just north of the city, repelling the dark soldiers as one might try and hold back the tide from sweeping through and destroying a sandcastle. Light rippled where the armies met. It was magic; where the fairies, wizards and sorcerers must be, shielding and aiding Auradon in this almost certainly unwinnable fight.  

Hook sniffed. He didn’t care about the big picture. He was here for his own selfish and perfectly lovely reasons. He would make sure he’d get what he wanted whether Auradon won or lost. 

The helicopter descended and Hook sighed when it set down in a field and he threw his seatbelt off.  

“That was awesome,” Gil grinned. “Can we do it again?” 

“We have a few things to do first. Like saving the world,” Uma drawled. 

Whatever idiotic thing Gil said next was lost as the VKs stepped out into the wild crosswind of the helicopter’s blades, made worse when the other helicopter landed. King Ben and his guards got out of theirs and joined them, carrying long bundles under their arms. 

Fairy Godmother was waiting. 

She wore a long sleeved hooded cloak that was scorched from battle. In her hand The Wand was a fuming star, spitting magic and reacting to the evil threatening to eclipse the day. The woman’s eyes were sad and very old as she gazed at her king.

“Any sighting of Maleficent?” Ben asked her.

“No. She’s not on the field. We must pray it stays that way. But Shan Yu is leading the army with great skill.”

Captain Lonnie cursed quietly. King Ben squeezed her shoulder.

“Both the army and navy are overwhelmed,” Fairy Godmother said mournfully.

“We’ll even the odds when we steal Maleficent’s fleet for ourselves,” Mal said.

“The pirate’s code says whoever is strong enough to take over has the right,” Harry said with relish, “And a new captain is heading their way to replace the old.”

“But how will you reach Captain Hook? There’s a hundred pirate ships between you and him,” Fairy Godmother asked.

King Ben and his guards put down their paper wrapped bundles and untied the string. The King uncovered a rolled-up carpet with a blue and green paisley pattern, he shook it out and it was unremarkable until he dropped it and the carpet hovered three feet above the ground. “We’ll fly right past those pirates and go straight to Captain Hook.”

Aziz undid the last knot on his bundle and the carpet burst out of the paper and unrolled itself. The carpet’s silken wool was a bit worn and the blue, purple and maroon colors were faded but the thick tassels on each corner shone with true gold thread.

Aziz laughed as the carpet flew under his arms and slid over his chest like a cat giving an affectionate rub. “Yes, yes, I’ve missed you too Carpet.”

The other magic carpets were unrolled and the VKs looked at them with interest. There were four, including the paisley one. The only one similar to Aziz’s carpet, though not nearly as worn, was red and orange and weaved with roaring lion heads and finished with scarlet tassels. There was a hideous pink carpet overcrowded with flowery motifs and one with a bold geometric pattern of white, red and yellow squares. These carpets floated tamely and showed none of the spirit Aziz’s carpet did. Aziz gazed at them all with pride. “These magic carpets have ever proved a blessing to me and mine. They saved my family’s life when Maleficent invaded Agrabah and now they will aid us in foiling her.”

“Bags this one,” Hook went and put his foot on the red lion carpet. He expected it to dip under his weight but the fabric braced, stiff as a board. Lips pinched, he stepped up on the carpet and sat down with a flop and it didn’t move at all. He had gone from one flying monstrosity to another.

Gil leapt onto the geometric carpet with a huge grin. He gripped the front of the carpet and pulled back with all his strength and he and the carpet rocketed upward. In a couple of seconds his screams were very distant. Hook blinked in shock. Chad laughed. The others cried out and gasped.

Aziz jumped nimbly onto his carpet and flew after Gil. Hook shielded his eyes with his hand and saw Gil somersaulting through the air. He yanked on his carpet desperately and sent it into a swift tailspin that nearly threw him off. That thick-wit.

With the geometric carpet under his arm, Aziz flew back down with a trembling Gil hugging him from behind. Gil didn’t let go even when they came to a stop.

“You can ride with me,” Aziz said.

“Okay,” Gil agreed in a small voice.

“Hey Mira, buddy up with me,” Hook said, caressing the spot beside him with a lascivious grin, “I’ll get you where you need to go.”

“Uh, no offense,” Aziz said, “But this is more of a two-handed job. You’re going to have to let someone else drive.”

“That’s okay Hook, I’ll take care of her,” the king took Uma’s hand to lead her to the paisley carpet. They sat and Uma scooted closer to cling to his back, looking at Hook with sly mocking over the king’s shoulder. Hook sent back a brittle smile.

Mal looked nauseated as she scrutinized the pink magic carpet and when Evie whispered something in her ear Mal smacked her arm and scowled even harder. Clearly resenting having to touch it, she gingerly climbed aboard the carpet and a giggling Evie sat behind her.

Jay had taken the geometric carpet off Aziz’s hands and was cruising on it like it was a skateboard, holding the edge with one hand as he crouched and sending the carpet dipping, curving and rolling right to left.

Jay did a 360 roll in the air and whooped. “Where has this been all my life?”

“You’re a natural,” Aziz grinned, “Not the most traditional way to ride it but hey, it works,” he turned to address the rest of them, “The mechanics are simple. You hold the edge of the carpet. A gentle twist will turn you right or left. Simply tell it to go faster and it will. Push down to go down. Pull up while giving the carpet a soft kick to get it to stop and, as you saw, a hard pull will take you skyward in a hurry.”

Jay did a double roll and Fairy Godmother jumped back to avoid being knocked down. “Opps! Heads up.”

“I am not riding with you,” Carlos crossed his arms.

Lonnie grabbed Jay’s carpet by the corner and pinned it down with her foot. “I will. So you don’t get anyone killed, including yourself.”

Jay huffed as she climbed on. “Great. A backseat driver. The job you were born for. Ow!”

“My foot slipped,” Lonnie said sweetly.

Carlos came and sat in front of Hook, who's glare morphed into a smirk. He ran his hand slowly from Carlo’s back around to his chest. “This is cozy,” Hook breathed in his ear, turning it red.

“You realize I am in a position to dump your arse into the sea,” Carlos grumbled and Hook chuckled and eased off a bit.

King Ben floated his carpet closer to Fairy Godmother.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked him. It was weird, but a bunch of kids on flying carpets hadn’t convinced her that victory was at hand.

“Yes.”

She sighed. “Auradon could withstand losing anything today except you, your majesty. Be careful.”

He nodded and she held out The Wand to him. There was a look on her face and Hook wondered if the lady was smarter than she appeared. She couldn’t seriously believe that it was the king who’d been using The Wand this whole time? Whatever the case, she gave him The Wand and King Ben kept up the charade and held it close. He looked at Chad and Noah, standing beside her.

“Forget about me,” the king ordered them, “and watch over her. You’re the only protection she has now.”

The two looked like they wanted to stab themselves in the eye rather than part from the king but bowed dutifully.

“Good luck, sire,” Noah said.

“Don’t die,” Chad scowled.

Ben gripped the front of his magic carpet and took off first. Aziz didn’t need to prompt his carpet at all before he zipped after him. Mal and Jay followed. Carlos sent their carpet skittering forward and Hook’s insides flip-flopped and he held onto Carlos in all seriousness.

Together, they picked up speed and glided above the trees and houses toward the city. Mal moved next to the king and Uma and was given The Wand. On the wind was the roar of soldiers fighting and men and women dying on a battlefield out of sight. But what pumped Hook’s brain with adrenaline was the searing whistle of cannon fire. It was as grating as an out-of-tune violin, as godly as thunder.

They flew into the city and it was chaos. On the ground below, people were screaming and running and didn’t see the kids flying over them. The air smelled foul and the boom of cannonballs pounding the streets was deafening.

“We have to fly above the range of their fire!” Aziz yelled.

“No!” King Ben said, “We can’t be seen! We must stay low. Follow me!”

They zoomed through the streets, through the insanity. They were like gnats, so pathetically crushable, their only chance was that they were quick and tiny targets.

A building was going up in flames and the heat of it flooded over them as they pierced through the column of black smoke. A cannonball whipped over Jay’s head and landed somewhere far behind them with a boom. Jay swerved sharply to avoid another one, it blasted into the cars parked on the road and caused a fiery explosion they all rocketed up to avoid.

Hook sniffed the air. “I think we singed Aziz’s precious carpet.”

“No talking, I’m busy!” Carlos snapped.

Cannonballs were gleefully trying to grind everything around them into pieces. That unearthly whistle was the only warning they got that death was coming so better get the hell out of the way. Hook could do nothing but hold onto Carlos whenever a giant iron ball cut a lethal swathe right by them.

They’d all been forced to spread out and take evasive action, forcing their magic carpets to their limits, swerving madly and cutting through the air fast as arrows. Hook lost sight of Uma. If the king’s carpet had been taken down there was no way of knowing except to go back and turning your back right now would be the end.

Somehow, through all that confusion, Hook saw a glimpse of the ocean, a sliver of tantalizing blue. He laughed.

Way above, a cannonball smashed into the glass tower they were flying next to. A tremendous shattering caused Hook to look up and see a tidal wave of glass coming down to slice and dice them.

Hook’s mind went blank.

“Hold on!” Carlos screamed, and pitched to the side and capsized their magic carpet.

Hook yelped and his grip slipped from Carlos and he was falling until, with the luck of the devil, he caught his hook in Carlos’s belt. Grunting, Carlos held onto the front tassels, straining not to let go and doom them both. The carpet shielded them as the glass shards bounced off and rained down around them to crash onto the road below.

They weren’t going to be cut to ribbons, hurrah, but the carpet was still speeding along and they were not technically on it anymore. Carlos squirmed and twisted the tassels but the carpet maintained its course.

Hook would give anything to be in a helicopter right now.

“What now, genius?” he called out.

“You need to let go.”

“What?!”

“It’s the only way!” Carlos yelled back.

“You told me to hold on,” Hook snarled, “I’m holding on.”

Another tower was dead ahead and the carpet flew on like it was desperate to hit it. Carlos let go of one tassel and Hook hissed as they wobbled. Carlos’s hand went to the buckle of his belt.

“Don’t you dare, pup!”

Carlos undid his belt.

“Bastard!” Hook shouted as he plummeted. He glared up, swearing revenge beyond the grave – there were far too few pirates haunting the world anyway – and saw Carlos grip the tassels, swing his body, and then flip himself up and over to sit on top of the carpet. He veered the carpet and dived.

Hook couldn’t see the ground but expected to feel himself splat against it any moment. But the magic carpet was faster than his fall and scooped him up, he thumped against Carlos’s back and only got hairline fractures on his ribs. 

“I’m gonna kiss ya later,” Hook said. “A big kiss.”

“Please don’t.”

They saw Mal and Evie on their carpet first, then Jay and Lonnie and suddenly they broke past the buildings and everyone was collected on the beach. They looked at each other, checking and not quite believing that they were all alive. Hook grinned at Uma. She had never looked more beautiful. She gave him a small smile which warmed his bones.

They crept up the sand dunes and looked out to sea. It was quite a sight.

The pirate ships were breathtaking works of art. Three-masts and thirty-two cannons each while being sleeker than any boat that had sailed in Hook’s dreams, their hulls were black as night and their sails were bloody red and deepest purple. The only blemish was the purple – he would have it redone in turquoise – and the white skull on their flags had curved dragon horns.

Hook couldn’t count how many ships there were. Enough that the skirmish the Auradon Navy had started could be ignored by the rest of the pirates in the harbor as they battered East Riding. The Royal Navy was nothing but a nuisance to them.

“How are we going to find Captain Hook in all that?” Aziz asked.

“His ship will be the largest,” Hook pointed out helpfully. “And I bet my boots, my coat and my guyliner that it’s called the Jolly Roger II.”

“We’ll come from the south,” Mal pointed at Auradon’s ships, “Use the battle for cover and go in and find him.”

“You mean we’re dodging more cannonballs?” Carlos groaned.

“Unless we want to raise an alarm and have all of those cannons turned towards us, yeah.”

They flew down the beach until they were far from the enemy’s sight then rode over the foamy waves and out to the flat expanse of ocean. Grinning, Hook trailed his hand in the cool water and touched his lips and licked. The taste of sea salt was sweet to him.

They sneaked up behind the Auradon Navy and into churning waters and the middle of a fierce sea battle. Unnoticed, the magic carpets zipped along the waterline, nearly touching the hulls while the ships showed their broadsides and exchanged fire. The stench of gunpowder was strong, it was as sulfurous as hell itself, and there was frantic shouting between the blast of the cannons.  

If it weren’t a question of numbers, the Auradonians would’ve been in a strong position. The metal bellies of the navy ships were harder to puncture, their powerful engines made them more maneuverable and they didn’t have the vulnerability of masts and sails. The navy had loaded their cannons with chain-shot and brought down many enemy masts and ships. But the pirates sailed past their sinking or incapacitated sister-ships and cut into the navy, dividing and surrounding them.

They squeezed between two ships that were being forced together, the pirates had tossed grappling hooks over the navy vessel’s taffrail and were reeling her in like a prize fish on a line. The sailors aimed their Excalibur crossbows and manned their scorpions and sent a volley of flaming arrows at the pirates, many of whom, howling and impatient, swung on lines to drop down on the navy ship’s deck and fight sword to sword. The dead and dying fell into the sea; one body nearly hit Carlos and Hook and splashed them with water and blood. Carlos shuddered.

They left the navy’s fight and entered purely pirate-infested waters. These ships had furled canvas, hanging back and waiting their turn to sail to the fore and turn their cannons onto East Riding. The magic carpets flew around soot-black hulls, not making a whisper, the only sound was the creak of rigging and the cheers and brash talk of the pirates on board.

Hook craned his neck, looking for the flagship. There would be something obvious, he knew, something that slapped him in the face, that told him this was his pa’s ship…

At first, Hook truly believed he was seeing a thirteen-year-old girl, the figurehead was that life-like. She wore a plain blue gown, one of her shoes were missing and exposed her dainty foot and her brown curls were pulled back in a ribbon and showed her pretty, sleeping face. She was grimacing as if having a nightmare, and it looked as if she would open her eyes at any moment, discover she was chained to the bow, and realize the nightmare was real.

Wendy Darling. Or at least, her carved likeness. Hook rolled his eyes hard. His pa was so dramatic.

Carlos and the others approached the ship cautiously. As promised, it was the biggest in the fleet, with over fifty cannons. They circled the ship and there on the stern painted in gold was: Jolly Roger II.

Now that was just sad.

“So what’s the plan?” Lonnie asked.

“He’s either at the helm or in the captain’s quarters,” Uma predicted.

As one, they looked up speculatively. They floated their carpets up the stern and peeked through the windows. The cabin was empty of its captain.

“I want this done cleanly. Let’s break in and cast a spell to lure him to us,” Mal said, taking out The Wand from her sleeve, “Then I kill him, no fuss.”

“Pardon moi?” Hook tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, “Did we fly through all that shit to sit on our arses and wait for your little rhyme to work? He’s right there!”

Mal glared. “We can take him out when he’s alone – “

“No, I’m taking him now,” he leaned over Carlos and yanked on their magic carpet.

“Harry!” Uma shouted, but too late.

They soared. Carlos tried to wrest back control, kicking the carpet and making them lurch and stop and start. He stilled when the sharp point of a hook was pressed to his throat. Hook didn’t bother to stop the carpet – he simply jumped off and landed on the quarter deck and let Carlos fly up into the arms of the masts.

The sea-rat at the wheel spun around and gaped at him stupidly. The pirates on the deck froze, staring. He brushed his scarlet coat, tweaked his hook and bared a wolfish grin. “Ahoy, maties.”

Chapter Text

The pirates stared and gaped, their tiny brains floundering on this wholly unexpected event. The man at the helm seemed torn whether to stay at his station and keep his hands on the wheel or run from the quarterdeck, so he just quivered nervously.

“Please, hold the applause,” Harry said, waving his hook grandly, “This is no time to revel in my return. There will be plenty opportunity later.”

“Harry.”

He looked closer at those on the deck and scowled. CJ was there, frowning at him. His littlest sister wasn’t so little anymore, the baby fat was gone and was replaced by a sharp face and strong body from years of hard toiling before the mast. Her gold-brown hair was in a high ponytail and she wore a feminine form of the Hook family coat, scarlet with fancy gold buttons and coattails embroidered with black lace. She looked great. For a traitor.

“Hey sis,” he sneered, “Happy to see me?”

“No. What are you doing here? How did you escape the Isle? Where did you and Carlos De Vil get a freakin’ magic carpet?”

“Are we answer enough?” Uma purred.

He glanced behind him and saw his allies floating behind his back. He grinned. If the pirates were shocked by Harry they were paralyzed at the sight of enemies old and new.

King Ben looked at the sea-rat at the wheel with some pity. “You can run if you like.”

“Thank ye,” the man scrambled down the stairs to join the rest of the crew.

“Where is the captain? Is he hiding in the brig like a coward?” Harry demanded in a loud voice.

“Harry,” CJ gasped, “Don’t.”

He unsheathed his saber and the ring of steel sent the other pirates reaching for their own swords. He chuckled at them. “Try and keep me from him. I dare you.”

Mal made a two-note whistle, drawing their attention, and held up The Wand for all to see. “Lay down your weapons. This doesn’t have to get messy.”

“I like messy,” Harry said and pointed at Jay, “I want what he got. A heart-to-heart with my old man. Now where is he?”

Everyone paused at the creak of footsteps on ship planks. The pirates smiled. Captain Hook came up from the hatch and strode onto the deck. “Pipe down, boy. Your mewling will attract the gulls."

The crew laughed with their captain as he rested his hand on the pommel of his sword and traced his moustache with his hook. Harry measured up his father. The obnoxiously wide feathered hat was typical. He still had long ratty black hair and a glorious scarlet coat. What was new were the trinkets pinned to the leather of the strap going from shoulder to hip. There was a tube of lipstick, a ruby pendant, a glass eye, a crocodile shaped whistle and a Kit Kat wrapper – of all things – along with other trifles. Trophies from raiding, no doubt, and proof of the freedom Captain Hook had been enjoying without his son. 

More of the crew had followed their captain out and among them was Harriet. Her dark hair was cut short and she had many gold rings in her ears and a small gold hook through her eyebrow. Her coat was short and trim and deepest red. Dismay was written all over face as she stood behind Captain Hook and looked at her little brother.

“I’ll give you one chance to surrender Captain Hook, though you don’t deserve it,” King Ben called out.

“Them who offer surrender are as jelly-boned and worm-livered as them who accept,” the captain replied and whipped out his sword, “No quarter lads! Cut them into shark sized bites!”

The pirates cheered and charged. All but Mal and Evie dismounted their magic carpets and took out their swords. Harry met the first one who came up the stairs, blocked the first blow with his blade and kicked the sea-rat so he tumbled down head over feet. The pirates trampled over the man and came with teeth bared. Thankfully, their attack was bottle-necked by the stairs and prevented Harry and the others from being mobbed. A pirate lunged with her sword for his legs but he stepped back and allowed her onto the quarterdeck. She cut and swiped until he blocked her sword and stepped in close to swiftly smack her head with the back of his hook. Her eyes rolled up and she hit the deck.

The pirate who went for Aziz didn’t get to use his blade at all. Aziz’s carpet wrapped around the pirate’s legs and felled him and Aziz plunged his sword into the pirate’s back, killing him instantly.

“Cheating,” Jay said admiringly.

“Teamwork,” Aziz corrected.  

King Ben fought like a knight; perfect form and every move without imagination. He exchanged blows with the next sea-rat with his free hand held neatly behind his back like a twat, before striking out suddenly to cut deep into the pirate’s wrist, who dropped his sword with a cry. King Ben thrust his sabre into the left shoulder and the pirate flopped to the deck with a whimper. “Don’t worry, I won’t let them hurt you,” he said to Uma. She battered her eyelashes at him.

Harry growled and disemboweled the next pirate who attacked him. But every defeated foe was replaced by two others and it was getting crowded on the quarterdeck. What was worse, more were swarming onto the deck from the hatch, every pirate on the ship coming to join the captain in battle. Mal recognized the danger and she and Evie floated up. Harry heard Mal cast a spell. The cables holding the deck cannons snapped and the cannons swept across the ship as if pulled by a magnet, barreling through the startled pirates and crushing anyone too slow to get out of their way. The cannons crashed together over the hatch, an immovable blockage.

Far up, Carlos cheered.

Gil tackled a pirate and charged forward blindly, catching two other pirates on the way who were unprepared to be rammed by a bull, and smashed straight through part of the quarterdeck’s railing. He and the three pirates dropped hard onto the deck and only Gil got up again, but he was now surrounded by a bristling wall of swords.

“Uh…” Gil said.

Harry grunted in exasperation and jumped after Gil, and Lonnie and Jay did the same. The four of them raised their sabers to fight. The pirates ran at them with a holler and then were once again sent into disarray, this time by Carlos. He charged through on his carpet before jumping off and swishing his sword beside his friends and the carpet continued toppling pirates like bowling pins before colliding into the taffrail.

Two pirates, a man and woman, rushed Harry as one and he sidestepped the first sword and stopped the second from cutting off his nose.

“Taste my sword you slime suckin’ butt wipe!” the man cried as he swung for Harry’s head.

“Are you flirting with me?” Harry giggled as he ducked, “This is hardly the time, sweetheart. Find me later.”

The sea-rat snarled and sliced through scarlet leather and into Harry’s arm but Harry didn’t flinch. It wasn’t a serious cut and he counter attacked with a deeper slice to the shoulder and the pirate howled before Harry warded off the pirate woman’s strike. Both cursed him and charged and Harry caught her blade within the curve of his hook and deflected it while thrusting the point of his sword into the man’s chest, his blade freezing an inch away from Harry’s neck. The sword fell and so did the man, his glassy eyes frozen in shock. The woman screamed.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, “Did you like him?”

She freed her sword from his hook, face twisted with hatred. As she advanced, Harry’s attention was diverted. Mal and Evie were swooping above, trying to get a clear shot at Captain Hook, and unbeknownst to them, CJ had climbed the ratlines – she always was a nimble little sneak - and was about to drop on top of them.

He opened his mouth to yell a warning when a sword bit into his thigh and hot pain raced all the way up to his groin. He retreated with gritted teeth and the pirate wench followed close, making him defend himself in a fury of parries. Another pirate joined the assault and he was once again fending off two swords when all of them were nearly taken off their feet by Mal, Evie and CJ zooming by.

“Get off you crazy bitch!” Mal snarled.

The three girls were a mess of limbs as they wrestled and tried to get the better of one or the other and the confusing signals had the pink carpet spinning and thrashing. The carpet bashed into a barrel and Evie rolled off onto the deck, taking a handful of gold-brown hair with her. CJ screamed in pain and Mal tried to kick her off and the magic carpet bucked. The two were thrown up into the air and The Wand flew free, hit the taffrail and fell into the sea before CJ and Mal landed on their arses.

As fascinating as all of this was – he was going to relive it at length and with great amusement later –  Harry had to put it completely out of his mind because two pirates were trying their darnedest to kill him. He pulled faces at them as they failed to back him into a corner and they got more and more riled up. He lured them where he wanted and Lonnie didn’t disappoint, she turned and saw Harry’s trouble and lunged for the tag-along, swiftly cutting through his defenses and ending his life, leaving only the pirate wench for him to deal with.

“Mira! Save The Wand!” Mal cried.

Uma heard and slid down the railing of the quarterdeck. A pirate ran to meet her, and she landed in a crouch and avoided his swinging sword by miles and sliced into his legs. He bent over in agony and she stood and brought his face to smash against her knee. He dropped like a stone and she discarded her sabre and dived off the ship.

“That’s my girl,” Harry whispered and went on the attack.

He hounded his opponent, giving no room for her to breathe, barely parrying her strikes before counter attacking. Under the relentless blows she struggled not to fall into pure defense. He gave her forearm a cut. Then one to her cheek. She growled, he grinned and kept stalking her. She thrust, he parried her blade wide and spun on his heel and his hook plunged into her side as he swept past her. She gagged, a piece of meat on a butcher’s hook, and he released her.

And there stood his father, watching him.

“Hi Pa,” Harry said and flourished his sword, “You’re next.”

The captain snorted, adjusted his stance and raised his blade high. “You have stolen some of my moves, boy. That doesn’t make you ready for me, as you’ll see.”

From bow to stern, his allies were fighting for their lives in a crash of blades. Bodies were bleeding on the deck. Neighboring ships had noticed the flagship was under attack and were coming to board and assist. The wound on his thigh was pulsing pain and he felt hot blood trickling down his leg. But all that fell away. Nothing mattered except that the father who abandoned him was finally before him and Harry was going to beat the living crap out of him.

“Begin, boy.”

Harry did.

He lunged low and the captain brought down his sword, parrying it easily, and countered with a thrust to the chest Harry jumped back to avoid. Harry went for the arm, the captain parried and suddenly lashed out with his hook and Harry blocked it with his own hook in the nick of time and stepped back. Both looked at each other.

They met again in a flurry of sword strikes and paced along the deck, testing the strength of each other’s arms, their speed and their balance. Neither stepped in too close for fear of a hook in the belly. Captain Hook was slippery as a fish, corded with muscle and had no qualms with playing dirty.

Harry was tickled by a feeling as uncanny as déjà vu. It was like he was fighting himself.

A pirate moved in to help his captain and Harry had no choice but to raise his sword to block and leave himself wide open to his father’s blade. To his amazement, Captain Hook ignored the opening and plunged his sword into the pirate’s stomach. The pirate moaned, clutching his open wound and staring at his captain, who was flushed with anger.

“I am Captain Hook! Admiral of the Mistress’s Armada, Conqueror of Neverland and scourge of the Seven Seas! I don’t need help to best this pimple faced upstart,” and he dived forward with his sword.

“Hey now! My skin is as smooth as a dolphin’s behind,” Harry said as he warded off the attack, “But you have picked up more wrinkles, Admiral. You’re looking a bit saggy, a bit long in the tooth. I hope you have a solid retirement plan.”

Captain Hook growled. His blade was whip-quick and his footwork as on point as a ballerina’s, contradicting his age. Harry, on the other hand, was noticing his thigh injury more and more and was sweating to keep his stance stable.

“Don’t kid yourself, boy. You’ve got the hook, but deep down you know you’ll always be a pale imitation of me. A weak copy. Just a child playing dress up!”

Rage and hurt flooded through him. He powered forward, slashing and hacking and making the captain give ground and work his sabre defensively high.

The captain wore a look of disgust. “I knew you didn’t have what it takes. You would’ve been an embarrassment if I’d taken you to sea. I was doing you a favor, leaving you nice and safe on the Isle.”

“A favor? A favor?” Harry cried and brought his sabre down in a vicious chop.

The captain caught the blow on his blade and kicked the pink magic carpet he’d maneuvered behind without Harry’s notice. The carpet shot forward and hit Harry’s legs and he went down, falling flat on the carpet. He felt the icy touch of steel on his throat and slowly glanced up. Captain Hook grinned down at him.

Aziz’s carpet came out of nowhere and wrapped itself around the captain, trapping his arms snugly. Spittle flew from the captain’s mouth as he yelled in outrage. Harry leaped up, but too quick. His injury sent daggers of pain up his leg and he gasped, wavering. A hook point pierced the carpet and Captain Hook sliced through the weave, almost cutting it in two, and the carpet fluttered to the deck and twitched sadly.

Harry raised his sword but was shoved backward onto the magic carpet. Captain Hook thrust to skewer the chest but a blade slid under his and stopped the move.

“Mutiny!” Captain Hook glared.

Harriet looked pleadingly at him, their blades crossed over Harry. “Please. He’s my little brother. He’s your only son.”

“That’s one son too many,” he said and parried her sword and pushed his blade into her breast and out through her back.

His sister coughed blood and Harry cried out. The captain pulled back his sword and found Harry on his feet, already swinging.

The two of them engaged in a furious dance, their sabres singing, their hooks striking together and sparking. Harry felt no pain or exhaustion. Only the absolute need to wipe out the captain, conqueror and scourge that was Captain Hook. He feigned a stumble on his bad leg and the captain bought it and overcommitted. Harry raked his hook over the captain’s sword arm and made him scream. Harry laughed. How many veins and nerves had he severed, he wondered.

“You’ll never replace me,” his father spat as he frantically dodged and parried, “You’re not like me. I am the captain. I am the captain!”

“You’re right. I’m not like you,” Harry’s sabre swung down powerfully and pushed the captain’s blade low, “I’m better. And I’m not a captain.” He swung his hook right to left and cut into the neck. His father’s eyes widened. Harry leaned in to whisper. “I’m a first mate.”

Captain Hook stumbled back and his sword fell to the deck with a clang. The pirates stopped fighting and gazed at their captain. Trying to hold the gushing blood back, he clasped his neck. Too weak, he dropped to his knees and his hat fell off. Then a crafty look crossed his face.

Harry thrust his sword into the breast and out through the back.

He sheathed his sword, turned away and ran to Harriet. She was still alive. CJ had propped her up against the taffrail. Harriet couldn't speak, her face was white and her breathing wet and rasping. But she smiled faintly when Harry collapsed next to them. The hand CJ held against the wound was slick with blood and she looked like a girl again.

“What do we do?” CJ whispered.

“Step aside.”

Uma appeared, dripping wet and holding The Wand. She glanced at Harry and he nodded desperately and she kneeled before Harriet. She twirled The Wand and spoke the healing spell. Sparkles knitted Harriet’s flesh back together. Color re-entered her face and she blazed with life again. She looked at Harry.

Old feelings of betrayal, sadness and self-pity had him almost trembling. Speaking too low for anyone beyond their small huddle to hear, he looked Harriet in the eyes, “You left me.”

She reached for his hand and held it. “To save you.”

“I am the captain!”

Harry understood.

He squeezed her hand briefly before getting up. He jumped onto the taffrail, hooking into the ratlines to balance himself. He gazed about. The Auradonians were bloody but alive. The VKs too. Uma waved The Wand and the cannons rolled away from the hatch. A mob of pirates charged onto the deck with a battle cry and skidded to a stop when they saw Captain Hook’s body. They blinked and faced Harry. Three other pirate ships were a stone’s throw away and their crews watched him as intensely as the pirates on the deck before him.

“Captain Hook is dead! By right of the pirate code, I am your new captain,” his gaze met Uma's, “For now.”

There was silence. Then Harriet stood and saluted. “Captain!”

CJ saluted too and someone clapped and then the cheers broke out. Every sea-rat and swab in sight was hollering and saluting and clapping. Harry acknowledged it with a majestic dip of his head and a small bow. Uma rolled her eyes at him but she was smiling.

“Woohoo!” Gil threw up his arms in excitement, “Let’s sing a shanty!”

“My first order is that no one should listen to Gil. Ever. The second is to turn her about. We are going to blast Maleficent’s army to smithereens. Full sail, you screw eyed baboons! Hands to braces! Run down that flag and find something befitting my devilish person,” he pointed at his father’s body, “And take that below deck.”

The pirates sprang into action, sworn to obey the captain’s word no matter how insane the order. A kind of chaotic organization took hold of the ship. Uma healed Harry before passing The Wand back to Mal, who fixed up any dying pirates and put them to work. King Ben called Auradon and updated his people.

Aziz cradled his magic carpet on the deck and Harry took the time to pause next to him. “Ask Mal to fix it.”

“It’s cut from a different kind of magic than The Wand,” Aziz patted the carpet reassuringly, “Genie will be able to put him back together. For now, he can rest. He did good today.”

“I’ll say this for it. It’s the bravest rug I’ve ever met.”

A chuckle. “He is one of a kind.”

Harry took the helm and supervised the unfurling of the sails, the bodies being cleared away and the cannons rolled back into position. Flag signals were passed from ship to ship to let the entire fleet know there was a change of plans and the flagship’s bow was soon cutting through the water and leading Harry's ships away from the city. King Ben finished his call and spoke to Harry about the state of the battle. Harry altered their heading accordingly so the fleet would be parallel to the dark army, as close as can be without running aground. When he was sure the crew had everything under control he reluctantly passed over the ship’s wheel to Harriet.

Harry, Uma, King Ben and Mal entered the captain’s quarters with caution. He wouldn’t put it past his father to have it booby-trapped. The cabin was neat and comfortably furnished. There was a four-poster bed, a velvet armchair and a large desk covered with a map of the seven seas and various nautical charts. On one wall amidst the bleached jaw bones of sharks different kinds of hooks were displayed: gold, silver engraved, barbed or tipped with precious stones, to be equipped as the mood struck. In the center of the cabin was a stand holding a crystal ball. Thick green smoke swirled inside the globe.

“At least my pa had wicked taste,” Harry commented as he prowled around.

“Runs in the family,” Uma drawled.

Mal edged towards the crystal ball. “This is the work of my mother. This is her magic. It’s how she communicated with him.”

King Ben studied it nervously. “You don’t think she can see us, do you?” and before she could answer he went to a bird cage in the corner and lifted the shroud that covered it and whipped it over the crystal ball. And inside the bird cage was a tiny figure who lifted her head and blinked at them in a sleepy daze.

“Tinkerbell!” King Ben cried.

They crowded around the cage. The pixie glowed a gentle gold from her feet, to the tips of her wings and the ends of her daffodil-yellow hair. But her little face was tired and her green dress was torn and shabby, showing the toll of her imprisonment. The floor of the cage was bare and there was nothing else inside except a shot glass of water.

“am i dreaming?” Tinkerbell spoke in her small, tinkling voice.

King Ben laughed joyfully and opened the cage, “We’re real, I promise. We thought you were dead.”

He scooped her gently into his palm and brought her out. Her wings drooped and her doubt visibly grew when her gaze landed on Harry.

He waved his hook. “Evening.”

“It’s okay,” the king was quick to reassure, “He’s on our side. You’re with friends now Tinkerbell. Has Captain Hook kept you locked in here all this time?”

At that name, the pixie glowed with anger and shot up into the air like a firework. “that pitt-sniffing son of a back alley whore is going to regret caging me when I rip him a new blow hole and make him eat his own shit!”

Such foul language spoken in such a high-pitched adorable voice made the VKs raise their eyebrows. It rendered King Ben speechless.

“well?” she demanded in front of their noses, “where is he?”

“He’s dead. I killed him,” Harry said.

Tinkerbell’s flight stalled and she dropped five inches. “what?”

“Maybe I should’ve left him to you. Sounds like I was the merciful option," he said.

“no. oh no, no, no…” she descended to sit on the edge of the desk and put her head in her hands.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Mal asked.

“what’s wrong? what’s wrong? you’ve killed peter and countless others, that’s what’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“maleficent has peter pan under a curse.”

They stiffened at the word.

“A sleeping curse?” Mal asked.

“yes. and worse than any heard of. hook bragged that maleficent had made certain her ships were never taken and he was never replaced without severe punishment. if hook doesn’t return to neverland every six hours and wake peter up then neverland will explode.”

“Explode!” Mal turned the color of sour cheese, “How?”

“maleficent’s curse has tied peter’s sleeping mind to neverland. peter is special. he’s the boy who wouldn’t grow up. even asleep he’s full of wonder and creative force. his powerful dreams feed neverland’s magic and will overload it unless he’s woken and the countdown restarted.”

“A nexus of magic exploding,” Mal contemplated in horrified awe, “It wouldn’t destroy just the island. Everything from miles around would cease to exist.”

“The blast would reach the continent?” the king asked sharply.

“The entire east coast. A big chunk of Towering Heights and East Riding just…pow. Gone.”

Harry recalled the look in his father’s eyes as he died. That evil glint. Like he’d be getting the last laugh.

“We’ve got to save Peter Pan,” he growled.

They went back outside to the deck and gathered the others to reveal the danger.

“Isn’t that a bit extreme, even by villainous standards?” Evie asked no one in particular.

“She didn’t win her ‘Mistress of Evil’ title by being a pushover,” Mal turned to Tinkerbell. “How long has Captain Hook been away from Neverland?”

“there’s only two hours left before…”

“I’ll give the order to change course,” Harry said and went to go, but King Ben grabbed his arm.

“No! Auradon needs these ships! It’s our only hope of beating back the enemy.”

Harry stared at him. “What does the bloody battle matter if we’re all turned into dust?”

“He’s got a point Ben,” Mal said, “Neverland should take priority.”

“I’m not saying we do nothing about it. But if we save Peter Pan, victory will still be Maleficent’s if East Riding is lost.”

“We could evacuate East Riding and let Neverland explode and take out Maleficent’s whole army,” Jay offered up.

Tinkerbell darted over and pulled hard on his hair. “we are not leaving peter to die you overgrown toe fungus.”

“It would be poetic if her own curse proved her undoing,” Mal mused, “But I doubt we could evacuate everyone in time – “

“We couldn’t,” Lonnie said grimly.

“ –  and thinking about the global repercussions for the destruction of a nexus gives me shivers.”

“Ow! Okay, okay, you heard her, we’re saving Pan, let go of my hair!”

Mal pinched the bridge of her nose and finally sighed. “Hook, stay on course. Lead the pirates against Shan Yu’s forces. The rest of us will take the carpets and go rescue Peter Pan, somehow.”

King Ben looked miserable. “I…I have to go back to shore. I can’t leave my subjects to fight without me.”

Lonnie and Aziz glanced at each other and she said: “Our place is with the king."

“Someone’s going to have to stay in contact with Auradon and help Hook co-ordinate his attack,” Carlos said slowly, wincing. “I think that someone is me.”

“I cannot believe this,” Mal laughed. "Fine then. We'll split up. That should go well."

Harry sidled up to Uma quietly. “I’ll need all the help I can get to manage this unruly crew and all those ships.”

He caught Gil’s eye and gave him a significant look. Gil smiled cluelessly. Ugh.

“Someone capable. A person who doesn’t mind the treacherous moods of the ocean or a rough wind blowing. Who likes it, even.”

Gil finally remembered the plan. “Oh yeah. You should be Hook’s first mate Mira. Because you’re so…so organized and stuff.”

Gil’s contribution to the siren call was surely minimal but nonetheless Uma’s expression glazed over with longing. He was grateful she’d taken an ocean dip to retrieve The Wand. The sea witch within her was bursting to be free and Harry knew he was this close to bonding her to the ship. And then they’d never leave it.

“Mira is coming with me,” Mal said as she got two magic carpets in line, “Gil can act as first mate.”

No. He stared at Uma. He willed her to refuse Mal, to sail her own course, to be Uma, not Mira.

“Don’t sink the ship while I’m gone,” she said to him and went to say her fond farewells to King Ben.

Harry’s chest tightened and he stalked up to the helm. Gil looked forlornly at Uma before joining him.

Squeezing a handle of the wheel so hard it might break, Harry watched Mal's departure with a scowl.

King Ben stepped closer to her. “I’m sorry to leave you alone with this crisis.”

“You’re a king, you belong with your people. I understand.”

“I know you’ll save us Mal. I haven’t the smallest doubt.”

Then she did an odd thing. She shifted uneasily and then offered The Wand. “Here. Give it back to Fairy Godmother.”

He was surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Just take it,” she shoved The Wand at him, “Today the heroes need its power more than the villains.”

King Ben’s smile was wide. “You’re no villain.”

Mal turned away and got onto the geometric carpet with Evie. With Tinkerbell sitting on his shoulder, Jay took the lion carpet with Uma.

“Good luck,” Mal said.

“You too,” the king replied.

Then the carpets jumped into the air and Harry watched Uma fly away and head to the horizon, her turquoise braids whipping in the wind. He sighed. There she went. It was all so wrong. Uma was captain. She should be here and he should be at her side. Otherwise none of this made sense.

“Captain! Enemy sighted off the port side!”

The enemy’s forces could be seen blanketing the hills beyond the beach, a great cloud of dust billowing into the sky from their trampling feet. His sisters and Gil stood next to him, waiting for his word. Their lives were in his hands - well, hand and hook. His gaze flicked up. Someone had cut a square from a blood-red cloth and hoisted it up to fly proud on the masthead.

Hook straightened and gave his best mad-hatter grin to his crew. “Train the starboard cannons and ready to fire! On my signal, teach those arrogant lapdogs to never trust a pirate!"

Chapter Text

“Did Captain Hook tell you where Peter Pan is being held?” Mal called out.

The rush of the wind as they flew over the ocean made Tinkerbell’s answer sound like nothing but a sweet jingle of bells.

“What?” Mal asked.

Tinkerbell was sitting under Jay’s ear and he spoke up for her. “She said: ‘He wouldn’t tell her. No one knows where Peter is hidden but a dead man and the crazy dragon bitch.'"

“We don’t have time to search the whole island,” Evie said.

“A magic wand would’ve helped us out with that,” Uma drawled. Mal pretended not to hear her.

Tinkerbell pulled on Jay’s hair excitedly and he winced. “She says no way would Captain Hook have left Peter with his shadow. We can find and free the shadow and it will lead us straight to Peter.”

“And where would the shadow be?” Mal asked and thought she saw a tiny shrug.

“Wherever the most pirates are,” Jay relayed.

Mal sighed.

The carpets raced at top speed and Neverland was within sight before long, a glorious stretch of emerald in an oily dome. As they flew closer the sea became impossibly blue and the air so clear it was heady. They crossed Maleficent’s barrier and Neverland’s magic swarmed over Mal. She shuddered. It wasn’t as sickening as when she’d gotten too close to the Summerlands, the nexus was a different flavor to fey magic, but it was still Light and disregarding the hostile pirates, sleeping curse and potential deadly explosion the entire mission was going to be a headache.

They slowed down and observed the island cautiously. There was no sign of anyone, only golden sand, glittering coves and thick jungle.

“The docks,” Uma pointed at a flock of seagulls flying in a tell-tale circle.

They found the docks the pirates had built for the fleet, an ugly construction jutting out of the beautiful island. It looked deserted, only rowboats, crab pots and fishing nets, but Mal was still wary and backtracked a little. They stepped off their carpets and onto the beach and Evie muttered as she patted down her windblown hair.

The tropical jungle was blindingly green with dashes of pink and red from nectar swollen flowers. Birds and frogs and insects were joined in a musical symphony, completely unaware about the troubles plaguing the island. Tinkerbell untangled herself from Jay’s hair and flew this way and that, reacquainting herself with her home and glowing a stronger gold.

Mal clapped her hands together. “Okay, we’re going to sneak into the pirate nest, free the shadow and free Pan. Simple.”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Evie said.

“How about that,” Mal said and turned to Jay. “You stay with the carpets.”

“Are you joking? You’re going to need all the muscle you can get,” and he crossed his arms to show off said muscles.

“I know, but we can’t be seen. Flying carpets aren’t inconspicuous and we can’t lug them around. You’re the best with them. Patrol the coast and call us if you spot danger.”

“I don’t like this Mal,” he scowled.

“Yeah.”

He scowled harder and reached into his pant pocket and brought out a fold of leather. “Remember what I taught you about picking locks?”

She grinned and took the cache of lockpicks. “It’s easier than charming a woman out of her panties if you’ve got all the time in the world. But you don’t, so hurry the fuck up.”

He looked surprised. “I said that? I am smart."

She put the lockpicks in her pocket and he returned to his flying carpet with her carpet rolled up in his lap. Jay smiled at them grimly.

“Call if you see anything,” Mal said again, “And we’re probably going to need a quick getaway, so be ready to come get us.”

“Got it. See you in a bit,” he flew out to sea and the four of them started for the docks.

“Just us girls,” Uma said, in annoyingly high spirits, “Isn’t this nice?”

“Lovely,” Mal deadpanned, massaging her temples and trying to push out her awareness of Light.

“You know what, she’s right. The absence of testosterone is rare. There’s a real chance this mission will go smoother than any before,” Evie said.

“Keep your optimism to yourself please.”

Tinkerbell flew backwards to face them. “fair warning, i don’t care how you came to be friends with ben. if you witches get peter hurt i will see you are dropped into a volcano.”

Mal gave Evie a look as if to say, ‘you see?’

There was a rough trail that led from the docks and once Mal decided there really was no one watching they followed it up past the craggy bluffs and nearly ran smack into a golden column. They stared. It was thick as a tree trunk, three times their height and stood like a gruesome, shining sentry. Carved into the solid gold were skeletons, full sailed ships, krakens and bare breasted mermaids. The craftsmanship was too good for Hook’s men to have done it and Mal bet it had been done by the Red Tribe.

They skirted it without a word and continued. Lazily, as if the path had been etched by the footfall of a rum addled pirate, the trail wound deeper into Neverland. There were more gold columns along the way, thrust into the ground to scar Neverland and stroke Captain Hook’s ego.

“So much gold and it’s all from raiding,” Evie whispered.

“It would only be the tip of their hoard. They’ve been at it for years,” Mal said.

They heard the lair before they saw it, a signature slurring, shouting, swear bitten crash of noise which only happy pirates can create.

“They’ve started the victory party already,” Uma commented. “Their guard is down.”

They passed one last gold pillar and the jungle path ended and they were in Captain Hook’s lair. It was two levels of shacks that looked like a strong breeze would bring the whole thing tumbling down, a sprawling, filthy pirate’s nest with a strong smell of fish, urine and body odor. It was easy enough to sneak through. The few pirates they saw always had a drink in their hand and were lurching drunkenly around or were laughing together or belting out a lewd song.

Slaves stood with them, ready to serve. Gone were the garments of radiant color, the proud feathered headdresses and painted bodies and faces. The Red Tribe wore rags and chain collars and studied their feet as they waited to be commanded or beaten.

Tinkerbell glowed furiously and drifted closer to the pirates. “those bastards…”

Evie pinched the pixie’s foot and dragged her back. “They’ll be freed soon. The best thing we can do for them is to get to Peter Pan.”

Tinkerbell crossed her arms and scowled and Mal whispered to her as they moved. “I fought a shadow not long ago. They’re slippery things.”

“peter’s shadow is as slippery as they come.”

“So,” Mal said, looking around, “How and where did Hook keep it?”

She skidded to a stop and they ducked behind some crates. A pirate, his bloated belly jiggling in contentment, was gently swinging on a hammock and picking his teeth, being fanned by a collared woman with a palm frond. He reached down and picked up a bowl and brought a handful of chips to his mouth and immediately spat them out.

“Bleh! Idiot. I wanted barbecue! Who likes salt and vinegar?”

“We don’t have any more barbecue, master,” the woman shivered.

The pirate raised a fist in warning. “Don’t talk back to me. Get me what I want woman.”

She nodded and put down the palm frond and retreated quickly.

“And bring me another beer!” the pirate yelled as he tipped his hat over his eyes and resumed swinging.

“Beer?” Uma muttered, “What self-respecting pirate drinks beer?”

Mal’s gaze followed the woman as she scurried away. When you’re lost, do as the Auradonians do and ask for directions. 

The woman’s scream was muffled by Uma’s hand as they dragged her behind a shack. Evie’s feet scattered empty bottles on the ground and she flinched at the loud clinks. The woman was shoved against the wall and her eyes were full of panic until Tinkerbell flew in front of her nose. She made a choked cry of surprise and joy.

“We have to be quiet,” Mal warned her and the woman nodded quickly. Uma released her.

“You’re Tinkerbell,” she whispered, “How…? What are you doing here?” She scrutinised Mal, Evie and Uma and decided they were not pirates. Hope crept into her voice. “Are you here to rescue us?”

“No,” Mal said.

“yes,” Tinkerbell said, “we are. but i’m sorry, we have to do something first.”

The woman struggled with it, the sudden possibility of her freedom making her fierce. “What could be more important than my people’s liberation from this hell?”

The pixie quickly told her of the curse. The Red Tribe knew Neverland better than anyone, had lived on the island and safeguarded it for who knows how long and understood its powerful magic better than anyone. At once, all self-interest fled the woman.

“How can I help?” she asked.

“Where’s Peter’s shadow?”

She introduced herself as she led them to the heart of the lair. Her name was Riverberry, cousin to the chief.

“He passed over to the spirit world when the pirates took control,” Riverberry said with mournful reverence, “As did my parents. Most of our elders couldn’t bear wearing this,” she grasped the collar at her throat, mouth twisting, “and caused trouble. Our captors were happy to make them an example. Now, no one dares say a word against them.”

“they’ll pay for what they’ve done to you and neverland,” Tinkerbell said.

Mal exchanged glances with Uma and Evie. The pirates on the island didn’t know it, but they were currently aligned with Auradon and most were somewhere fighting the king’s enemies. How much the pirates would pay for what they’d done was highly in question. All their crimes would probably be attributed to Captain Hook and that would be the end of it as long as they continued to strengthen Auradon. It was the only logical course.

The center was crawling with sea-rats and they would never have made it without Riverberry. She took them on a route used by the slaves, where the food and the crates and barrels containing a ludicrous amount of alcohol was stowed. A small Red boy was there cooking a fish over a portable stove and his eyes went wide as saucers when he saw them. Riverberry pushed a finger to her lips. The boy nodded slowly.

They climbed up a huge stack of barrels and crawled on their bellies at the top to peer below.

Mounds of gold coins, gold anything, were piled amidst an empty throne made of bones. The pirates ate and drank and scuffled on the treasure, using it as their personal playground. They basked in their stolen loot. But the culmination of their years of raiding was not at the heart of the clearing. Nor was the throne.

A great ring of fire was on the sand, the flames so intense Mal could feel the heat from where they hid. Exhausted slaves dripping in sweat were crouched beside it, feeding it coal and wood but she wondered if that was needed – the fire leaped and pulsed like a living thing, like nothing could extinguish it. Inside the ring a jagged ebony spear pinned a dark shape on the sand by its heel.

Peter Pan’s shadow.

The darkness jerked this way and that and its fingers brushed the edge of the flames in despair. This was genius that could only be thought up by Maleficent. The shadow was thoroughly trapped by a spear no one could reach and hellish fire no one could cross with a crew of vicious pirates standing ready to kill at the slightest provocation.

“What are we going to do?” Evie asked, “There are too many. We can’t fight our way through all that.”

“and we don’t have all day. we need to free the shadow now,” Tinkerbell added.

“You know what would come in handy right now? The Wand,” Uma said cheerily.

Mal counted to ten in her head so she wouldn’t do anything rash. The most irritating part was that Uma was right. Magic was the answer to this puzzle and Mal had given it away. She couldn’t explain why. Ben wouldn’t have insisted on it. But he had looked at her and she felt…she couldn’t explain why.

“We can do this without magic. We’re VKs – no, we are villainesses and that trumps a band of thickwitted minions any day,” Mal looked at Riverberry, “Do they ever leave the fire? Change shifts or something?”

“There are always many pirates guarding it."

“We could create a distraction and draw them away. An explosion, maybe,” Uma said.

“They would send slaves to deal with any nuisance,” Riverberry said.

Mal hung her head in frustration. “And if not, they’d think Auradon was attacking and start killing everyone.”

“i know!” Tinkerbell grinned, “we can crack open these barrels and flood the area and the fire goes out and – and the pirates will run!”

“Alcohol is flammable,” Evie said, “It wouldn’t extinguish the fire, it would go BOOM and the shadow would still be trapped and we’d be very dead and possibly burn down the whole island.”

“oh.”

Mal pinched the bridge of her nose. She needed to think. This required cunning. Deceitfulness. Out of the box thinking. And if she didn’t have those in spades then her name wasn’t Maleficent Bertha Vaelthaé.

“the clock is ticking,” the pixie reminded her, oh so helpfully.

She pinched harder. She couldn’t stop thinking about the blasted wand. If she had it, she could conjure a sandstorm and blind the pirates and smother the fire. She could make the fire coalesce into a mad dog and chase the pirates away. Hell, she could make a magic tune and lead the pirates on a merry dance like the godsdamned pied piper –

Mal’s head jerked up and she stared at the revelry below. Then stared at Evie.

“What?” Evie asked defensively, smoothing down her hair.

“We need more hands,” Mal told Riverberry, already scooting back and climbing down the barrels, “Can you gather every Red Tribesmen you can find and get them to help us?”

“If I show them Tinkerbell then yes, I think they will listen to me. What do you want us to do?”

“Two things,” Mal reconsidered, “Maybe three.”

3333333333333333333

Riverberry walked onto the sand and spoke quietly to the Reds tending the fire and they left. She looked around. The pirates didn’t notice her until she cleared her throat and shouted: “Masters, may I have your attention please.”

The pirates turned and stared at her with unfriendly eyes, daring her to waste their time. She shrank a little but continued. “To recognize your great victory over Auradon and celebrate your rise as undisputed rulers of Neverland, we’ve organized a special treat for you. Please, enjoy, masters.”

She waved a hand and six Red men shuffled in and went to one side away from the fire. They set down their leather drums and sat. Riverberry sat with them. The pirates muttered to each other, displeased to have been interrupted for dumb native nonsense.

A single drum was struck for a slow, steady beat. A heavily veiled figure took measured steps around the fire, only her naked feet visible. The pirates quietened. They forgot their drinks and sat up where they lounged. Despite the coverings, it was obviously a woman, something incredibly feminine in that unhurried sashay.

The drum skipped a beat and then all the drums rumbled and the woman swept aside a veil to reveal her face. The stripe of color across Evie’s eyes made them even more enchanting and the straight line of dots emphasised the sharpness of her cheekbones. More importantly, it obscured her identity and with a veil pinned onto her blue hair no one could recognize her as the Evil Queen’s daughter. She was a beautiful mystery, and she was there to dance.

She fluttered the veil which had covered her face and then held it in a taut line above her head. The drumming was languorous as she strode forward, the many veils on her body swaying as she moved and giving the barest hint of what lay underneath. Just before she reached a huddle of pirates she skipped away. One of them grumbled and she snapped the veil in her hand at him playfully and he jumped. His buddies laughed. She spun and let the veil drop in a circle at her feet and rocked her body, the veils shifting like rippling waves. The fire burned fierce behind her and gold shone in the sun all around her and it was weaved into the dance just as the hypnotic music was, and no man or woman could look away.

Evie pointed one foot to the side and slowly rolled one shoulder until a veil drooped and somehow that bare shoulder was a scandalous display of skin. She smiled. She threw her head back as she swept her arms down and the veils covering her arms were gone. The drumming quickened and she danced across the sand. She moved so close to the fire it seemed she would go up in flames but the veils were at her command, she twirled and swayed in a splendid blur of color and nothing could touch her.

Her hands flirted together above her head, more allure in those curling fingers than any blatant offer of sex. She bent backwards until her body was an almost perfect curve and snatched at one of the veils covering her chest. Holding it, she pirouetted and had blue wings. She let go of one end and spun and an ocean wave encircled her.

She dropped the blue veil and her arms fell gently to her sides and she looked at the pirates with fathomless dark eyes. The music changed and became deeper. Evie swayed and her fingers trailed over her face and down to her chest. She spun once and peeled a layer off. She spun the other way and peeled off another. Stretching onto the tips of her feet, her hands flitted down the line of her body like butterflies and her head dipped back. Her red lips parted in a breath of pleasure. She undid the last veil covering her chest. Someone let out a low groan.

Smiling slightly, she ran her fingers over the orange veil and for a moment screened the band of lace that cupped her breasts before throwing the veil aside. She moved in a little circle, rocking her hips to side to side before sighing deliciously and falling in a split. She unraveled her skirt and when she pushed herself up and fell back to her feet in one graceful motion she was in nothing but her lacey blue underwear.

Evie backed up and gestured in a “come here” motion and every pirate felt compelled to move. The drummers stood up and went too, bringing the music with them. Laughing and dancing, she led them away from the fire and the treasure and they obeyed, meek as lambs, just so they could keep looking at her and keep the dream of touching her alive.

Mal and Uma stepped out of hiding and went to the ring of fire, not a pirate in sight. Riverberry joined them, looking very relieved.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Uma said to Mal.

“Don’t you always,” Mal replied. In truth, she was worried about Evie keeping all those pirates distracted for long enough – and safely. But Tinkerbell was keeping an eye on things and would race to Mal to report if there was any trouble.

“Here they are,” Riverberry pointed.

A group of Red Tribesmen came, twelve of them carrying a gold column on their shoulders. Some looked at Riverberry and at Mal and Uma, and there was a question there asking if they were sure they wanted to do this. Mal told them where she wanted it. Straining and grunting, they backed up and ran and threw the column and it landed in a crackle of embers to span across the fire and reach inside the ring.

Mal unbuckled her belt and passed her sword for Uma to hold with Evie’s. The Red Tribe looked at her with fear and hope.

She stepped onto the column and walked carefully within the gap made in the fire. She clenched her jaw stubbornly against the discomfort. The flames reached the height of her waist and the blazing heat made her eyes water. Arms out to help keep her balance, they felt like roasting meat kebabs. No human could tolerate this. Her foot slipped on a gold octopus head and she hissed at her suddenly very hot foot and re-positioned, glancing down. Her boots were tough, thank Lucifer. She picked up the pace and in five strides that felt much longer than they were she had crossed to the other side and hopped off the column. Being in the middle of the ring was worse, the boiling air nearly unbearable.

Pan’s shadow noticed her and threw himself her way, making threatening gestures that let her know if she didn’t free it she’d be chucked into the flames.

“When I let you go, don’t you dare run off,” she warned, “We need you to take us to Peter Pan. He'll die without our help.”

The shadow clutched the spot where the spear pierced his ankle and he waved for her to get on with it. She went to the black spear and when she touched it she yelped and shook out her hand. She frowned and brushed it again with her fingers. Cold pain lanced through her skin. She tsked.

Oh Mother. Why can’t anything be easy with you?

“Something wrong?” Uma called.

Mal grabbed the spear with both hands. Electric pain shot through her whole body and she bit her tongue to keep from crying out. She yanked but the spear was firmly stuck. The spear sent stronger bolts of agony and tried to throw her off, a hundred knives scraping off her skin and prying into her bones. A tiny voice in her head that was concerned only with survival told her to stop, to flee from what was harming her. She closed her eyes. Holding the spear fast, she bent her knees and pulled and it was pain beyond the world, beyond any hurt she’d ever felt. She screamed and screamed and she did not let go.

She collapsed onto her back and the pain vanished and her vision went from white to clear. Heart racing, she looked to see the spear disintegrating into black cinders in her hands.

Something pulled on her jacket. Pan’s shadow was free and urging her to move. Gasping for breath, she made her legs support her. The shadow slithered over the column first. Mal stepped up and walked but something was different. It was slippery.

The column’s carvings were wilting and tears of gold were running down to land with a sizzle in the fire. Mal swallowed and inched forward, arms out and staring down. She could feel the heat of the liquefying gold through her boots. She slipped and gasped and wobbled, her hand scorched. She gritted her teeth and pressed on and cursed inwardly when she saw the middle of the column. The gold was sagging, glowing orange and barely holding together.

Mal took a deep breath. And jumped. She landed on solid gold but lost her balance. Shit, she thought as she fell. Someone pulled her and she latched onto them and found her feet. She calmed. Her left side was singed and the smell of burnt hair was filling her nostrils but she was blessedly alive.

“Stop playing around,” Uma said and led Mal by the hand the rest of the way.

When they were in the clear Mal dropped her hand without looking at her, humiliated by the rescue. Uma picked up the swords and flung Mal’s at her. Mal suppressed a wince, her burnt hand throbbing, and strapped her sword on. The Red Tribe was gone, including Riverberry.

“Where – “ Mal started when Evie burst into view. Arms pumping, she was running so hard her breasts threatened to bounce right out of her bra.

“move your giant asses!” Tinkerbell shouted as she zipped by.

An angry roar reached them, the bellow of a hundred pirates brandishing their swords and declaring their intention to cut them down. Mal waited only for Evie to catch up before she turned and fled, the shadow of a boy flying by her side.

Chapter Text

Tinkerbell had taken it upon herself to lead the way and yell “encouragements” at them, none of which were flattering or at all useful. Mal didn’t waste breath shouting back. They hadn’t poked the hornet’s nest, they had juggled and kicked it around like a hacky sack and from the murderous quality to the sounds behind them the pirates did not appreciate being played with.

They ran through the lair and startled the pirate in the hammock, who promptly fell out and landed hard on his face. The pirate groaned. Pan’s shadow reversed and kicked him in the head before slipping back to them.

Another pirate turned a corner and cut into their path, snarling, and the shadow bristled. Mal put her hand to her sword but Uma was closer, tossing Evie her scabbard and freeing her own sword. She ran, deflected the thrust that would’ve sliced through her face, dodged the next blow entirely so that it harmlessly sliced the air next to her and then stabbed the pirate deep in the chest. She sheathed her sword again with a growl. Mal came up next to her as they ran and Uma smacked her arm.

“We’re leaving tracks!”

Mal couldn’t imagine what she meant until she glanced behind them. In the dirt were gold-flecked bootprints. It was like a neon arrow pointing which way the pirates should go. She looked at her gold encrusted boots and swore.

Uma pulled out a small thin dagger out of nowhere and paused to slice through her shoelaces. She stepped out of her boots and left them behind. She passed Mal the dagger and Mal quickly did the same. The tale of Cinderella's slipper recited in her head.

They passed the last shack and crashed into the dark shelter of the jungle. Red faced and gasping, Evie made a fed-up noise and threw her scabbard into the bushes. An axe thudded into the tree right next to her and she paled, staring as the pirates thundered into view. Mal grabbed Evie’s hand and sprinted.

Tinkerbell darted as easily through the jungle as the shadow did but Mal, Evie and Uma were slapping vines out of the way, getting caught by branches and torn up by thorns and slipped and slid in the leaf litter and mud and still the pirates persisted. The shadow flew back and Mal heard curses and cries of pain but did not look behind her.

The pirates were flagging, they were losing them and Mal felt a swell of hope until the ground dropped away. Mal lost her hold on Evie and tumbled down, teeth scraping dirt, her scabbard slapping the back of her knee, her hip banging into a root. After an eternity she rolled onto flat ground. Grimacing, she catalogued her new injuries and spat out a mouthful of earth.

“quite a clumsy lot aren’t you?” Tinkerbell observed from above.

Mal opened her eyes to flash lethal green at her. The pixie showed her little pink tongue.

The others were lying next to her.

Uma sat up and wiped the mud from her face. “This is not a proud day for villainesses."

Evie whimpered. Mal crawled over and quickly brushed aside her hair to see her face. Tears of pain were in her eyes.

“Can ya see them?”

Mal looked up the bank they had fallen down and saw glimpses of the pirates through the foliage. Tinkerbell dropped to hide in a fern. Uma crawled to the bottom of the slope and Mal dragged Evie over there too. They lay on their backs and kept still, listening to the pirates argue.

“I saw them just a second ago!”

“So which way did they go?”

“Uhhhh…”

Mal was missing a sock and an ant was hiking her big toe. The pirates searched and she found herself trying to squish the ant with her second biggest toe. It skittered out of range and nipped her with its pincers. There was a crunch of leaves, right above their heads. She turned her foot and ground the ant into the dirt.

“Over there!”

She stiffened.

“Did you see that? That plant moved!”

“They’re over here! Get em!”

The pirates hurtled through the jungle with the grace of stampeding rhinos, far away from where they hid. When there was nothing but the chirp of birds and insects she sat up. She couldn’t believe their luck. Then the shadow slinked down in front of them and gave a thumbs up. She nodded her thanks and turned to Evie.

“Are you okay?”

“I think my wrist is broken,” Evie said, clutching her right hand.

“Can you walk?”

Mal supported her as she stood up. She was banged up and a little rattled but it could’ve been much worse.

“I’m okay.”

“I’ll get you spelled to rights as soon as we get back.”

“M. Do you mind?” Evie’s gaze flicked down. Her bra had slipped and her nipples were showing.

“Oh. Sure,” Mal cleared her throat and tugged up the lace and ignored Uma’s snicker.

Tinkerbell and Pan’s shadow were circling each other happily in a strange dance, her hovering in the air and preening under an invisible shadowy touch. She was shining brighter than before.

“shadow, thank the powers you're free. can you take us to peter? is he far? he’s in awful trouble.”

The shadow nodded once and gestured for them to follow.

Burnt and bruised, with a best friend out of commission, Mal was sure that everything that could go wrong already had. But not wanting to chance breaking their necks again, she insisted on a fast walk rather than a run and weathered Tinkerbell’s complaining. They kept an eye out for the pirates but Mal wasn’t too worried. The jungle was thick and easy to get lost in.

“I thought you said you could keep them distracted for eons. Did your famous charms wear thin?” Uma looked at Evie.

“No,” Evie said irritably. “They heard an unholy scream. It was suspicious.”

Dammit.

“Did you hear that Mal? Your girlish scream nearly got us killed.”

“You know what Shrimpy, I would’ve liked to have seen you pull out that spear.”

“shrimpy?” Tinkerbell looked over her shoulder at them.

Mal blinked. “It’s an insult we have on the isle. She has a small brain like a shrimp.”

Tinkerbell looked forward again. Uma sent a look. Mal rolled her eyes like the small slip was nothing. It wasn’t like she had called her Uma. But yeah. She shouldn’t have said that in front of the pixie.

The shadow led them into a camp that was long abandoned, with burrows dug between the roots of the giant trees. Tinkerbell squealed in excitement and zipped through the camp calling for Peter but the shadow brought her back, shaking his head sadly, and led them onward. Evie asked Tinkerbell what that place had been.

“the lost boy’s hideout,” Tinkerbell sighed.

“Oh yeah. I forgot that part of Pan’s story. What did Captain Hook do with them?” Uma asked.

“nothing. they’ve been gone a long time now. without so much as a ‘by your leave’ queen belle took them and got them adopted by families in cinderellesburg. poor kids. They’re probably working in offices, taking the bus and always fretting about money and mortgages…”

“What’s a mortgage?” Mal asked.

“i think it’s a kind of acid reflux you get after you realise the inevitability of death.”

Mal nodded. Carlos got mortgages from time to time.

“Call Jay and let him know we’re still alive,” Evie said.

Mal’s phone was either not working due to being cooked or smashed or both. But Uma’s was okay and Jay was glad to hear from them.

“Carlos called for a minute. The battle’s going our way. What about you?”

Mal glanced at Evie’s broken wrist. “We’re fine. We’re going to the east side of the island. Fly over there and we’ll find you when we can.”

“You only have like what, forty minutes left? Do you even know where Pan is yet?”

They came to a tall cliff. Perfect. A dead end. The shadow flew up the cliff and pointed wildly. Mal touched the spot it indicated and her hand fell through a curtain of vines. A large hole was hidden in the cliff. Pan’s shadow flew into it and was swallowed by the darkness.

“Yeah. Gotta go,” Mal hung up and pocketed Uma’s phone.

Tinkerbell didn’t hesitate to follow the shadow. Mal looked at Uma and they unsheathed their swords. Evie took the rear and they brushed past the vines and into the mouth of the cave.

The only light came from Tinkerbell but Mal’s keen eyes adjusted to the dark well, as did Uma’s she imagined. There was only one way to go, a passageway of pale stone, and their footsteps echoed off the smooth walls.

“Do you know this cave?” Mal asked the pixie.

“no. but i’m not surprised that neverland has secrets.”

The temperature dropped sharply the deeper they went in. Mal checked on Evie and found her shivering miserably. Mal shrugged off her jacket and put it over Evie’s shoulders for the little warmth it would provide.

“I’m fine,” Evie whispered, smiling to reassure her, “But this place is kind of creepy.”

“E, have you been in a cave before?”

“No. But I’ve read that some have giant crystals – that would really spice this place up.”

“Every corner of the globe needs your style tips.”

“Desperately.”

The cave stretched on and led them downward. The walls closed in tighter.  

A weird slice of light appeared ahead.

“peter?” Tinkerbell cried and raced towards it.

Mal went after her, raising her sword, Evie close at her back.

They stumbled into a cavern, tall, wide, vast. Large enough to hold a tourney field. They were standing on a ledge that continued out to the cavern’s center.

“Whoa,” Evie said.

“What the hell…” said Uma.

It was bright as daylight and Mal tried to make sense as to what exactly was going on.

Utterly brilliant and pure colors were dancing on the cavern walls in perpetual motion, flowing and shifting in a dizzying swirl. Shapes materialised: a lamb chasing a wolf, a shooting star, a one-eyed giant, a mountain rising from the sea, a jester throwing a pie and they lived briefly before morphing into other shapes. It was a cinematic light show of a fantastical and impenetrable story. The author of which, was Peter Pan.

The boy was in a cage suspended mid-air from the ceiling by a long chain and Tinkerbell flew to it crying his name. Mal, Uma and Evie shuffled along the ledge, the shadow at their side. Far below, the cavern floor was water. It was a long drop and there was no way out but back the way they came. They reached the end of the rock and the cage was too far away to reach or jump to.  

Peter Pan’s body was propped up against the bars, his sleeping face turned in their direction. He had reddish brown hair, an upturned nose and looked to be about twelve or thirteen but was rather tall, with long limbs. He wore a rough brown shirt, patchwork green pants and a pointy cap. Tinkerbell pinched him and pulled his hair and stuck her head in his pointed ear and yelled but he was deep asleep, the slow rise and fall of his chest the only sign he was not a lifeless doll.

“Enough,” Mal said, sheathing her sword, “He’s under a curse, he’s not going to wake up like that.”

“shadow, get over here!” Tinkerbell called.

The shadow shook its head, flying up and down the length of rock to demonstrate its predicament.

“I don’t think it can. Not with those lights,” Mal said, looking at the walls.

“What are they?” Evie asked, drawing the jacket tighter around her.

“Some kind of magical reflection of Pan’s dreamscape. The curse linked him to the nexus, this must be a side-effect.”

Tinkerbell zipped over to them and put her hands on her hips. “who cares? what are we going to do?”

“I’d hoped we could simply get him out of here. Distance would probably severe the connection to Neverland and prevent the explosion.”

“you can’t fly to the cage, i can’t carry him out and there’s a big ass lock on there anyway,” Tinkerbell snapped.

“I have something for that,” Mal took out Jay’s lockpicks. The lock appeared to be a simple pin-tumbler and given the pixie couldn’t deftly handle two picks at once Mal handed her a triple peak raker and warned her not to drop it. Tinkerbell shoved the pick into the keyhole and listened to her instructions. It took a frustrating two minutes but the lock popped open and Tinkerbell let out a “ha!” and threw the lockpick aside. It plopped into water. Jay wasn’t going to lend Mal his picks ever again.

The cage was now open, but it didn’t do them much good.

“We’re going to have to wake him up so he can fly out of there on his own,” Uma commented.

“Yeah. Tinkerbell, how would Captain Hook have woken him up?” Mal asked. “I’m assuming not with a kiss.”

The pixie curled up on Pan’s shoulder. Her glow had faded now to a dying firefly. “hook would do something low. and vile. i wish he was still alive so i could fly into his nose and blender his brain.”  Then she began to cry.

“Thanks. Very helpful,” Mal turned to Uma, “You’re familiar with Captain Hook’s story. How would he have done it?”

Her twitching lips indicated how enjoyable she found it that Mal was turning to her for ideas and wouldn't soon forget it.

Uma crossed her arms thoughtfully. “Mostly, I just know how Captain Hook lost his hand. Harry used to never shut up about it.”

“How did he lose it?” Evie asked.

“Peter Pan cut it off and Tick-Tock Croc ate it.”

Evie frowned. “Tick what?”

“Tick-Tock Croc. It’s a Neverland crocodile obsessed with devouring the rest of the Captain. It’s called that because of the ticking noise it makes ever since…” Uma straightened, “Ever since the crocodile swallowed an alarm clock.”

As one, they turned and stared at the water. The shadow took a peek as well. There was not so much as a ripple on the surface and no crocodile was in sight. Still…

“That has to be how Pan’s woken up,” Mal said. It was too vindictive, too deliciously ironic an idea for a villain to resist.

“I don’t hear any ticking,” Evie said doubtfully.

Uma leaned over the side more and sniffed. “Sea water. There must be an underwater tunnel down there.”

“But the Captain would’ve woken Pan by now. Why hasn’t the crocodile come?” Evie wondered. 

“He must summon it,” Mal said.

“How?”

“oh!” Tinkerbell flitted up and wrung her dress. “hook always carried a whistle on him. i thought it was strange because i never saw him use it and…the whistle was shaped like a crocodile.”

Mal groaned. She’d seen that whistle and thought nothing of it. And it was currently on a ship miles and miles away. Tinkerbell sat on a cross bar of the cage and put her head in her hands with renewed sobbing. Pan’s shadow got out of Mal’s way and let her pace. What was she going to do?

“I can get the croc,” Uma said.

Mal turned and stared. Uma thumbed the locket at her throat and gave a meaningful look. Mal glanced at the pixie, who had looked up at Uma’s words with desperate hope.

“You can’t…” Mal said.

Uma raised her hands. “Do we have a choice?”

Mal bit the inside of her cheek. Then walked over and looked at Tinkerbell sternly. “If we save Peter, you have to promise you won’t ever tell anyone how we did it. You have to swear on his life and your magic that you will keep this secret.”

“i swear it. please.”

It was the best and only guarantee they could get. This had the potential to royally screw up Mal’s plans – but there was no choice.

Grinning wide, Uma unlatched the locket and the shell within gleamed with magic and anticipation. She clasped it and jumped off the ledge and Tinkerbell yelped, surprised. Mal peered over to see Uma plunge feet first into the water. She didn’t come up again.

Tinkerbell looked askance. “now what?”

Mal bounced a little on the balls of her feet, too aware of the countdown that was in dangerously low numbers. “We wait.”

Evie sat with her legs dangling off the edge of the rock, holding her wrist and watching Pan’s dreams play out. Mal distracted herself by assessing the damage from the fire. The ends of her hair were singed and a patch on the side had melted into a hard clump. Her jacket had saved her from a third degree burn. Nasty heat blisters were forming on her right palm; between that and the old knife scar on her left palm, she should really start wearing fingerless gloves again.

“I think it might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Evie murmured.

Mal made a non-committal grunt. Uma’s phone vibrated in her pocket and she answered it.

“Yes?”

A crackle, then Jay’s voice: “Mal…you’ve…saw…”

She pressed the phone closer to her ear. “What? Say that again.”

Jay spoke urgently but the line was too poor and she couldn’t understand him. “Jay, the magic here is interfering with the signal. We’ll be there soon, all right?”

“…Mal…Mal…”

A bubbling in the water made them all look down. Tinkerbell fluttered anxiously. Mal hung up.

A great spray went up like a geyser and Evie screamed. Uma rose up from the water wrangling a huge and very disgruntled crocodile with her eight tentacles.

“aggh! a sea witch!” Tinkerbell shrieked.

Throat bulging with guttural bellows, Tick-Tock thrashed and snapped its massive jaws at Uma. “Uh uh. Bad boy,” she closed his mouth with one tentacle. With eyes black as ink wells and the seashell at her neck pulsing happily, she smiled up at her audience with teeth sharper than usual. Then the tentacles not holding Tick-Tock latched onto rock and she surged out of the water and began climbing up the ledge. Tentacles undulating, she moved fast even with her burden and Mal and Evie backed up in a hurry.

Dripping wet, Uma sprawled on the rock in front of them. From the waist up she was the same; waist down she had turquoise tentacles almost eleven-foot-long and packed with muscle. They gave her height and she grinned down at Mal, who realised her hand was on the pommel of her sword. Mal forced herself to relax even as Uma smirked evilly and held the crocodile above her head like she was about to chuck the beast at them. There was an absurdly loud ticking noise.

Uma upended the crocodile and released its jaws and shook it up and down. Tick-Tock chomped the air, yellow eyes glaring with fury. “Come on, you stubborn brute. Give it up!”

Like trying to get the last of the ketchup out of the bottle, the tentacles squeezed the croc’s bulk and whacked its tail. With a glug and a bleh the croc disgorged a twin bell alarm clock. It bounced and landed at Mal’s feet. Tick-Tock hissed.

“There we go, that wasn't so hard,” Uma crooned and threw the crocodile. Tick-Tock crashed back into the water.

Mal picked up the clock slick with digestive juices. She felt the dark enchantment laid on it. The shadow circled her excitedly. Uma coiled up her tentacles and let her pass. She held the alarm clock out across the gap to the cage, the ticking bouncing around the cavern, and watched Peter Pan. A muscle in the boy’s face twitched. Tinkerbell hovered in front of his nose, hands clasped together and pressed to her lips. His arm jerked. His fingers flexed.

Patience officially tested beyond her limits, Mal slapped the switch on top of the alarm clock and it rang and shook so violently it nearly jumped out her hands. The cave was doused in complete darkness. 

“If you had the courage of a three-legged poodle you’d let me out of here and make this a fair fight! You can’t keep me locked up forever Codfish!”

The cage rattled and swung on its chain. Mal’s eyes sharpened and she saw Peter Pan throwing a fit. Then a tiny ball of sunlight was born as Tinkerbell glowed bright and true, gold sparkles falling gently off her fluttering wings.

“oh peter…”

The boy froze. He reached out a hand to the light. “Tink.”

The pixie laughed thickly.

Floating, Pan crossed his arms and legs and huffed. “About time! Did you get lost on your way to rescue me or did your horoscope say it wasn’t the best time? And you!” he pointed at the shadow that had crept out of the darkness and spread onto the floor of the cage, “I don’t want to see your face right now. If you had a face.”

“you – you ungrateful – you’re a pit sniffing – you stupid – you’re such a,” Tinkerbell's fists shook as she searched for the right word, “boy!”

“I know,” he swung the cage door open and nearly flew straight into Uma. “Cool. A sea witch.” He cocked his eyebrow at her and when Tinkerbell’s light cast over Mal and Evie the eyebrow went higher. “Who are you guys?”

“they’re friends with king beast’s son, ben,” Tinkerbell said.

“Excellent. You look like mischief and princes need more of that in their lives. But we’ve got to get moving, the codfish isn’t going to get an atomic wedgie without assistance.”

“Actually – “ Evie began.

Mal held up a hand for quiet.

There was a change in the air, a certain chill. Something was coming. Something terrible.

“What’s the matter girl?” Peter asked.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

“It’s Mother,” Mal whispered.

“What?” Uma hissed.

A sinister green light sprouted and grew in the cavern’s entrance. Without a word, Uma slithered down the rock race and disappeared.

Mal whirled to Peter. “We need to hide. Now.”

“Wh-where?” Evie stammered.

“Up,” Peter said and grabbed Tinkerbell. Ignoring her indignant squeaks, he shook her and sprinkled pixie dust on their heads. “Think of a wonderful thought. One, two, three!”

He took Mal’s hand and pulled her up into the air. She dropped the alarm clock and reached back and grabbed Evie’s good arm. The three of them stalled, Evie’s toes just touching the ledge. Evie closed her eyes and scrunched up her face in concentration. She levitated and Mal was glad to see it and this powered her flight and they ascended faster. Peter let go and they flew on their own, weightless, Mal's jacket falling off and splashing below. She and Evie brushed the ceiling as a man’s snivelling reached their ears.

“I’m sure it’s fine Mistress, please don’t distress yourself…”

The green light intensified. Peter raised his cap and the pixie flew under it and he plopped it down just as Maleficent swept in.

The glow from her scepter cast her features into sharp relief. The thin red lips, the cruel cut of those cheekbones, the arrogantly arched eyebrows and those wicked coal-black horns were exactly as Mal remembered. As was the bitter taste of fear.

A minion trailed after her swishing cloak and Maleficent payed him not the slightest bit of attention. She followed the ticking and then stopped, waiting. The minion scurried and offered up the alarm clock with head bent. She took it with her long-fingered hand and considered it, and with a wave of her sceptre she conjured a ball of light that skittered over to illuminate the open and empty cage.

“Look, pet,” Maleficent said, cold as new frost, “My navy has turned against me, my army is in retreat and my prisoner is gone. Does this look fine to you?”

The minion opened his mouth to speak.

“Fool!” she screeched and the blow from her scepter knocked him down. Wailing, he huddled as she beat him.

Memories of Mal’s own beatings flooded her mind. She knew the exact shape and shade of the bruises the minion would get. Had she ever cried out as pathetically as he did now?

“You disappoint me,” Mother sneers.

Yes. Yes, she had.

Mal realised she could no longer feel the ceiling at her back. She looked up. Evie was frantically reaching for her in the dark, unable to feel or see her and Peter Pan hadn’t noticed that she was no longer beside him.

She flapped her arms and kicked her legs but kept drifting down, down, like a tired helium balloon. She couldn’t panic. She needed to think of a wonderful thought. Things that made her happy.

Maleficent’s rage went dormant and she forgot her minion. She considered the clock again, grinding the end of her scepter into the rock. “Someone is trying to play a game with me.”

Mal thought of crying infants. Fat tears rolling down those puffy cheeks. She gritted her teeth. She had to do much better than that. She imagined conquering Auradon and becoming the one and only Mistress of Evil and having everyone quivering in fear of their dread queen, her mother dead at her hand and her revenge utterly complete.

She dropped like a stone and was set to impale herself on her mother’s horns. Numb with shock, she didn’t make a sound.

Someone grabbed the back of her shirt and halted her descent. She was five feet above Maleficent. Not daring to breathe, Mal prayed to Lucifer.

Maleficent tossed the clock into the water. The ticking gone, nothing masked the pounding of Mal’s heart. It was loud as a gong; it wasn’t possible her mother couldn’t hear it. Evie – it had to be her, only one hand was trying to heave her upward – tried her best but to no avail. There was no joy in Mal’s soul. Not a drop. She sank another inch closer to her doom.

“Who would cross my mistress?” the minion ventured to ask. If he dared look up, he would see them.

“Those who wish a slow and infamous end. Oh pet, the things I will do…” Maleficent’s laugh echoed madly as she stalked out of the cavern, “I cannot wait.”

The minion hobbled after her and the green light died. Mal exhaled and closed her eyes for a moment, faint with relief. Evie brought them down to the rock. Peter came and Tinkerbell flew out from under his cap and shed some light.

He whistled. “And people ask why I don’t want a mother.”

Mal hugged herself, not meeting their gaze.

“Gods. What happened M?” Evie asked.

“Pixie dust is fucking flaky. And its light magic, we don’t mix well, how many times must I say it?”

Uma clambered back up to them, giggling. “What happened to ‘I want to watch my mother’s blood run across the floor’? Get stage fright Mal?”

“Shut up. It wasn’t the right moment.”

Uma bopped her on the nose with the tip of her tentacle. “Chicken.”

“Like you didn’t flee at the mention of her name! I’m surprised you didn’t leave a puddle of ink.”

Uma scowled and flexed her tentacles.

“All right, stop it. I for one don’t fancy running into her again,” Evie said, “I guess we should wait here awhile, to be sure.”

“Or,” Peter rubbed his chin with an impish grin, “We could go out the back way. What do you say scary octopus lady?”

“oh no. no way,” Tinkerbell shook her head.

Uma smiled. She struck, too quick to avoid, and snatched up Mal, Evie and Peter. Mal snarled and beat her fists on the tentacle holding her but it didn’t budge. She shuddered at the sensation of the suckers. No one could accuse her of being squeamish – but this was just gross. Peter promised his shadow he’d catch up with it later and whooped as Uma slid down and glided into the water.

“Take a deep breath,” she singsonged.

Mal glared but did as she was told. At the last second, Tinkerbell grabbed onto Peter’s hair. Uma dived.

Mal was thrown about as Uma propelled them through the tunnel. It was dark but she thought she glimpsed a pair of slitted yellow eyes watching them go. The salt water made her burns burn and that was just the cherry on top of her day.

Translucent blue was above them and Uma angled upward. A school of fish scattered and they broke the surface. Mal gulped the fresh air. Evie slicked her hair out of her eyes and the pixie buzzed her wings.

“We should do that every week,” Peter laughed while he squeezed out his cap. “Do you take bookings?”

Uma chuckled. Tinkerbell pinched his earlobe and he chopped his teeth at her.

Treading water, Uma raised a tentacle and showed the alarm clock suckered onto it. “Picked this up on the way.”

He scowled. “That freakin’ ticking. It’s the worst sound in the world. I never want to hear it again.”

“There’s Jay!” Evie cried.

Jay raced across the ocean and was babbling long before his carpet skidded to a stop. “ - and I couldn't believe it and I tried to warn you but you hung up on me and I saw Maleficent fly in!”

“Old news,” Mal said.

His expression said he didn’t think she was taking him seriously. “She’s here!”

“I know.”

Jay took a second look and noticed that she was being manhandled by giant tentacles along with Peter Pan and a scantily clad Evie. “…So. Mission accomplished?”

“Let’s just get out of here.”

He unrolled their carpet and Uma dumped her and Evie on it, making Evie moan with pain and gather her arm close again. Mal rubbed her back soothingly. Releasing Peter, Uma dipped under the water. It bubbled and churned. When she swam back up with the clock and heaved herself onto Jay’s carpet, she had legs again.

“Magic gave you back your pants but kept your shoes?” Jay frowned.

Uma hit him. “Don’t feel the need to speak for Gil when he’s not here.”

“You guys are crazy,” Peter Pan said, floating with his hands behind his head, soaking up the sun. “Never change." He yawned. “See ya later.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mal asked.

He swooped and plucked the clock from Uma and gave them a cocky grin. “First, I’m going to shove this up the codfish. Then I’m gonna make every pirate on Neverland walk the plank and,” he yawned, “and they can…can swim all the way to East Riding…”

He blinked heavily, his shoulders sagging. Jay moved his carpet and Peter dropped into Uma’s lap.

“peter!” Tinkerbell cried.

“Hey man, you okay?” Jay asked.

Mal stared. The boy tried to pull himself up but flopped back, exhausted.

“It’s the curse. He’s going to sleep again,” Mal said.

“Why?” Peter slurred, turning the alarm clock over. “I thought…”

“Mal!” Jay pointed up at the sky.

A giant black dragon was soaring into the clouds above the island.

“Go!” she yanked the edge of her carpet for full speed. They passed through the magic barrier and shot straight for the mainland. The Light magic lessened, then vanished. Glancing back, she half-expected to see Maleficent in hot pursuit. But she wasn’t. She hadn’t seen them.

Tinkerbell appeared at Mal’s ear. “help him!”

Mal drew her carpet alongside Jay’s and shouted for the alarm clock. Uma threw it over. Mal ran her hands over the clock and couldn’t feel a hint of magic. “The enchantment washed off in Neverland’s waters! The clock isn’t a part of the curse anymore.”

“what does that mean?” the pixie asked.

In Uma’s arms, Peter was struggling to keep his eyes open. “Okay Tink, I admit it…that was a heck of a rescue…”

Tinkerbell went and stood on his chest and stamped her foot. “no no no! you need to stay awake stupid boy. i’m not finished with you yet.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile. “Good.”

His eyes closed. She shouted and slapped his chin and pulled his lip, telling him to stay awake, to fight it. His breathing deepened as the curse dragged him under.

“peter?” she quavered. Wings wilting, she stroked his cheek. “peter?”

With uncharacteristic gentleness Uma shifted the sleeping boy off her lap and rested his head on the carpet. Then looked away.

“How do we wake him up again?” Evie asked. From the sadness in her voice, she already knew the answer.

Mal gazed at the clock and the hands marking off the seconds and minutes and hours. Tick tock tick tock…

“We can’t.”

Chapter Text

Peter Pan was nestled in soft wool blankets and satin pillows in the best guest room in the royal castle. The luxury was worthless to the boy. He would’ve slept just as soundly on cold stone. It was to comfort others, to make seeing him less painful. Tinkerbell was curled up by his ear. She was pale as a lily and didn’t cry anymore.

Mal stood in the corner awkwardly but she was ignored by the Blue Fairy and Mama Odie, who stood by the bed like mourners at a funeral.

“Am sorry my dear girl,” The voodoo witch said to the pixie, “We cut his tie to Neverland’s nexus but breaking the curse completely is beyond our power.”

“We will keep working to replicate the enchantment that was on the clock,” the Blue Fairy added, “We won’t ever stop trying. He’s in good hands Tinkerbell. But…this is all we can do for him right now.”

The pixie’s yellow hair hid her expression. The silence was excruciating and the Blue Fairy glanced at Mama Odie in desperation. It appeared the voodoo witch sensed the look despite her blindness. She sighed.

“Child, being here don’t help. You will only suffer. You belong in the forests, in the green and the sunlight. Let us take care of the boy and you go back to your people. We’ll bring over his shadow to watch over him and we will send for you if we need you.”

“peter is my people. peter needs me,” Tinkerbell said, quiet but fierce.

Mama Odie smacked her lips and sighed again. She pointed her walking stick at the pixie. “The boy needs something he does not want and you need to give him something you can’t have. It an awful mess. Ain’t no solving it, way it is now.”

“just get out! out! leave us alone!” Tinkerbell buried her face in Peter’s neck.

Mama Odie grabbed a fistful of the Blue Fairy’s gown. “Come on Bluey. The girl won’t listen yet. Give her some time.”

She hobbled out and all but dragged the Blue Fairy with her. Mal moved to go as well but Tinkerbell’s head snapped up.

“mal.”

She reluctantly drew closer to the bed. They looked at each other. It was Tinkerbell who had requested her presence but Mal felt the need to speak first, despite herself.

“I’m, um…It’s too bad, what happened. This isn’t the ending we were hoping for.”

As disgusting as they were, the words were itching to get out.  She took a deep breath and released them. “I’m sorry.”

The pixie looked down. “if it wasn’t for you, we’d still be hook’s prisoner. and…before peter fell, he knew he was free. that would’ve meant a lot to him. because of that, you and your unusual friends can go about your business. i’ll remember what I promised in the cave.”

“Thanks.”

Tinkerbell glared. “but don’t think i’m an idiot and that I don’t know mischief when I smell it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Mal gave one last look to Peter Pan before she left. She thought she’d known everything there was to know about sleeping curses. Secretly, she used to believe they weren’t very evil. The minimum requirement for suffering was surely being conscious to feel it?

But seeing her mother’s signature magic in action was an eye opener. The boy was utterly helpless. Could there be anything worse than being eternally stuck, oblivious to pain or pleasure, unaware of friends or enemies, and muted into complete submission?

Out in the hall she found Ben’s entire council waiting. They stopped talking to turn and stare at her. She stiffened. No doubt the council was pissed about Peter. But would they attack her right under the king’s nose?

Fairy Godmother stepped to her, holding The Wand. Mal raised her chin, ready for anything. Fairy Godmother reached out and patted her shoulder then smiled a little sadly and stepped back. Fa Mulan was next to her, stoic as a marble slab and still in filthy battle armor. She nodded at Mal.

Becoming more and more bewildered, Mal passed the council members and the mermaid princesses sniffed and gave nods of their own, Quasimodo smiled crookedly and the dwarf Doc tipped his hat as if to a lady. They didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to.  

She didn’t look back despite the urge to check this wasn’t a joke or a trick being played on her.

The next couple of days she downplayed it in her mind. Of course they were happy, she stopped the destruction of Neverland and its nexus and the battle of East Riding had been won just as she’d planned. Auradon was saved, for now.

But the total absence of guards watching the VKs was glaringly obvious and a sudden swell of hospitality was making the castle staff nearly unbearable to live with. The VKs had turned a corner in Auradon. They were finally welcome. And it creeped the hell out of her.

                                                                                                                    33333333333333333

“Em, the door,” Evie called out when there was a knock.

Mal came out of the bathroom. “Are your legs broken?”

Evie pouted and flipped the page of her magazine. “My wrist was, and it still hurts a little. Ah, ow. See?”

“I’ve created a monster,” she muttered as she whipped open the door. A long-faced man in a castle uniform stood there. “Like we told the other guy we don’t want any cookies.”

“Mademoiselle, that is heartbreaking,” the man’s lips twitched, “and also fortunate, as I bear no treats. I am maître d’.”

“You’re made of tea?”

“That was Mrs Potts, at one time.”

“Huh?”

“French Mal,” Evie said, “It’s French. He’s a cross between a host and a waiter. He’s second to the butler.”

He bowed. “Only occupationally. But I digress. It is my duty and my pleasure to deliver this to you, mademoiselle.”

He offered her a card with a handwritten note on it. Mal’s eyes widened as she read the fancy script. She looked at the servant, who grinned and left before she could stammer out a question. She closed the door and turned to stare at Evie.

“What is it?” Evie straightened up. Mal silently passed her the card. When she read it, she squealed and jumped off the bed. “Oh my gods, I’m so jealous!”

“Want to go in my place?” Mal mumbled.

“You’re going to need a new outfit. Something graceful.”

“E please…”

She picked at Mal’s hair, clicking her tongue. “And this has to be fixed. And you know who we need for that.”

Mal groaned as Evie stuck her head into the hallway and shouted for Dizzy.

For two hours Mal was washed, shaved, plucked and moisturised within an inch of her life. She allowed the torture. Tonight was too important to mess up and if her best friend thought glamorization would help her, well, this was more Evie Grimhild’s area of expertise anyway.

But that didn’t mean she had to like it and while she was examined like a show dog Mal dug her fingers into the arms of the chair and ground her teeth.

“My special conditioner didn’t help at all,” Evie lamented as she picked at the burnt parts of Mal’s hair.

“It’ll have to come off,” Dizzy rubbed her hands together, “Finally. I’ve been wanting to put layers in your hair for years Mal. Curtains this thick should only be seen in gothic architecture.”

“Just get on with it.”

Dizzy picked up the scissors and adjusted her glasses. “I’m going in.”

“You’re a braver woman than I,” Evie shook her head.

After her hair was trimmed and cut and blow-dried Dizzy put soft curls in and Evie dressed her in the creation she had whipped up. It was a high-low dress of lavender purple with intricate lace across the chest and ending in short sleeves.

“Elegant and understated,” Evie gushed, kneeling next to her and patting down the cascading chiffon.

Mal gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t recognize herself and yet she did. There was the strongest sense of déjà vu. She looked like the Mal in her dream when Ben would meet her by a lake and take her the hand.

This was usually the moment everything shattered and she woke up.

“We can squeeze your ogre feet into my silver heels. Your combat boots just wouldn’t go," Evie quipped.

“Not that it matters, but for the record, I’m more girly than you think I am,” Mal said.

Evie snorted so hard she coughed. Dizzy doubled over with smothered laughter and knocked over the makeup kit on the dressing table.

Mal scowled. “I am. I’m not all boiled leather and dragon scale all the time. I’m aware there’s a place for beauty and flirtation and – and charm in a villainess’s toolbox.”

Evie stood up with a smirk. “Em, the fact you just said 'toolbox' weakens your already flimsy claim. And second, do you remember how long it was before you could seduce Hook? The lengths I had to go to to teach?”

She arched a brow and her reply was huskier than she'd intended. “I remember."

Evie caught Mal’s wrist and kissed the inside of it. “Hook was a one-off. He’s got weird taste. If you want someone dazzled that’s what I’m here for, right?”

Mal looked in the mirror again. “Right.”

Evie picked up a pair of dangly silver earrings and helped her put them in. “With any luck, this evening is a one-off too. You won’t be expected to be charming but you can reach for respectful and non-terrifying. The outfit will help a lot.”

She got the shoes and did Mal’s makeup and finally, finally it was over, and she stepped back with Dizzy to admire their work.

“We’re geniuses,” Evie nudged the bespeckled girl.

“I know. I mean, you’ve always been attractive in a sexy medusa kind of way Mal but now…” Dizzy let out a few squeals.

“You’re perfectly presentable. Take a look.”

“I don’t want to be late,” Mal strode to the door, not wanting to see her reflection again.

“Remember, don’t be yourself! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! If we’re sleeping on the curb tonight, I’ll know who to blame!”

The night air helped clear her head as she walked to the royal palace. She tried to squash her nerves. Ever since she’d read that card she’d been obsessing over why she’d received this invitation. She was way out of her depth here.

Waiting in the castle were servants who escorted to her to the right room. Mal smoothed down her dress and they swung open the door and she strode inside.

The room was a modest size but there was a miniature chandelier highlighting the fresco of pear trees and swooping swallows on a gold leaf painted ceiling. The long dining table was looking a little awkward for being set only for two people at one end, with twin rows of shining cutlery and glittering crystal goblets next to a decanter filled with ruby hued wine. If this was the definition of “informal dinner” she shuddered to think what an all-out royal gala was like.

Queen Belle stood up from the table with a smile.

“Good evening Mal.”

“Good evening, your majesty.”

Queen Belle thanked her for coming and Mal murmured her own thanks for the invite. With a wink, the same long faced servant from before pulled out the chair opposite to the queen dowager and the two sat down. The queen complimented her on her dress and again Mal thanked her, wondering how long this strange tennis game of niceties was supposed to last.

The maître d' went to a buffet table and began filling two plates.

Queen Belle followed Mal’s gaze. “I hope you’ve brought your appetite. The chefs were determined to give us our own little feast tonight.”

“Perhaps I should’ve brought my friends along to help.”

“I wanted to speak with you alone. It was high time we met and had a proper chat. I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner.”

“We’re both busy people.”

The queen shook her head. “I should’ve introduced myself the day you arrived.”

The conversation was put on pause as the servant placed their dinner on the table. “Bon appétit.”

“Merci, Lumiere,” the queen said.

He bowed and went to stand back against the wall and give them the illusion of privacy.

Mal waited for the queen to take the first bite, if only to see which fork she should use, before spearing a sautéed mushroom. After an appropriate interval, she spoke. “This is delicious. Especially the gray stuff.”

“It’s rich fare for these difficult times. Others aren’t so fortunate outside the castle,” the queen’s expression turned haunted. She was an elegant beauty but she was suddenly older than her years.

“I know that, ma’am,” Mal said quietly.

Queen Belle looked at her and her eyes turned so gentle it made Mal wince. “Of course you do. Forgive me.”

Mal looked down and went back to her dinner. Lumiere brought their second course and poured wine which Mal took a sip of for the sake of form. But the food! It really was good. Who knew butter made everything taste so much better? She got lost in devouring it until she sensed the queen’s attention. Mal looked up, swallowed, and used a napkin for the time in her life to wipe her mouth. She smiled awkwardly but the queen made a point of wiping her mouth too as if she hadn’t been eating with perfect, dainty manners.

“Mal, I wish to thank you.”

Auradonians believed in false modesty and so she ducked her head. “There’s no need, your majesty. Many besides me were involved in the victory at East Riding.”

“Your actions were very brave but that’s not the particular reason I’m grateful,” she leaned forward a little, all the better to wield those damnably gentle eyes, “You have become an important friend to my son. Not just for what you do for the war but what you’ve done for him personally.”

“I’m…I’m not sure….”

“Ben told me what you said to him. About his Beast.”

“Oh.”

“There are not many in Auradon who would understand,” Queen Belle considered the tablecloth, her tone sorrowful, “My husband…for a long time he saw himself as a creature to be feared and unloved. Because of his shame, his human half was almost completely eclipsed by his beast when I met him.”

There was a sob. Mal glanced at the servant, who was wiping his eyes with a handkerchief and murmuring in French. Queen Belle regarded him fondly and with a certain bittersweetness and then continued.

“That’s why I couldn’t hide my fear when Ben told me what happened to him. I never wanted him to have to go through so much pain, like his father did. But Ben thought that fear meant something else and he wouldn’t talk to me about the Beast. But he confided in you.”

“Well, we spoke a bit,” Mal rushed, “He was being an idiot about it so I…”

She bit her lip as she realized what she’d just called the queen’s son. She imagined Evie facepalming right now.

“After he spoke with you, I could see that a great weight had been lifted from him. Which is why I must thank you. For supporting him and helping him reconcile his dual nature.”

Mal didn’t know where to look. “I don’t think I was that big a help. But uh, you’re welcome I guess?”

Predictably, Queen Belle took mercy on her and drank some wine. The subject could’ve been dropped then but Mal spoke before her brain could stop her.

“It still bothers Ben, you know. I can see it.”

The queen regarded her thoughtfully. “I know. But I’m not worried as long as you stay by him and tell him,” she grinned, “when he’s being an idiot.”

Startled, Mal laughed.

Ignoring the rest, which was just too weird and confusing, Ben’s mother thought well of her and wouldn’t prove an obstacle and that was a relief. Queen Belle was adored by all the kingdom and could have a devastating influence on the VK’s fate if she chose.

They then spoke a little about the war, naturally, but the topic visibly depressed the queen dowager. They ended up talking about Mal’s friends after the queen asked innocent questions about them. Mal chose the least offensive stories she could think of to amuse her with. The time Jay hid from an ex-lover and got stuck in a barrel for nine hours. When Carlos decided to dye his own hair and not go to Dizzy, and whatever he’d done had left him bald for a month. Stuff like that.

The Isle of the Lost sat on the dinner table like a porcupine both were too wise to touch. By unspoken agreement they pretended the stories took place somewhere other than the prison which Queen Belle had co-founded.

Just as dessert was served, the door burst open and Ben stumbled in. He’d obviously run. Queen Belle and Mal stared.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” he said, straightening his tie.

His mother laughed. “No you’re not. You look so worried. Ben, you know I won’t bite her.”

“I’m here because I heard a rumour that Mrs Pott’s famous chocolate slice had been made, and for no other reason,” He went to kiss her cheek. “You look lovely Mom.”

“Thank you. But Mal is lovelier still don’t you think?”

He turned to Mal and froze. “Whoa. I mean wow. I mean…”

She pursed her lips. “I must warn you, your mother has given me her blessing to call you names. Tread carefully.”

He chuckled. “I will.” But he didn’t say anything more and just smiled at her. The maître d’ pulled out a chair and he sat down next to his mother. “I should’ve known I didn’t have to come in and save you. Not the fearless hero of the east.”

Wholly sick of the appreciation being relentlessly poured on her since she’d gotten back, Mal spoke in ill-temper. “I don’t think Tinkerbell would agree with that sentiment. She’s probably cursing me through her tears right this second.”

The genial atmosphere wobbled dangerously.

“You did everything you could. No one could’ve done more. And we will find a way to break the curse one day,” Ben said.

She was taken aback by his declaration. “The Blue Fairy and the voodoo woman….you didn’t see their faces. They can’t even wake him up for an hour much less break the curse. They don’t want to admit it but Pan’s lost.”

“No. Trust me Mal. We’re going to wake him up.”

Such blind faith and determination…it was unbelievable that someone like this existed, who could say right to her face that he had no earthly idea how, but he was certain they were going to break her mother’s greatest spell.

“I'm sure you will. And Peter Pan has lived for an age; this will be like a catnap for him so don't feel too guilty,” Queen Belle comforted.

She did not feel guilty. She’d just wanted to change the subject. And she wanted to again. She turned to Ben. “Speaking of heroics, I heard you were on the front lines in the final charge against the enemy. That it was a real sight to see, the king making General Shan Yu turn tail and run.”

The queen’s hand went to her throat. “Oh Ben. You’re being careful right?”

“Yes, Mom. I am. But we can’t let Mal succeed at distracting us,” his hazel eyes were sparkling. He was beginning to know her too well. “Things have been so hectic the last few days that I’ve only heard bits and pieces of what happened on Neverland and I’m not sure what to believe. Is it true Evie hypnotised a hundred pirates? Did you really cross a wall of fire? Wait, no. Start at the beginning. I want to hear the whole story.”

Mal looked for an escape. She plucked the strawberry off her chocolate slice. “I’d rather enjoy my dessert Ben. I’ve literally never tried a strawberry before,” she bit into it and smiled at them, “Hmm,” then the succulent sweetness on her tongue registered. She gazed at the strawberry, “Hmmm.”

Queen Belle fussed with Ben’s hair. “For tonight, let’s leave the war outside honey. Please.”

“Okay Mom. Sorry.”

Mal forgot the strawberry and watched the two of them. The queen’s simple gesture of rearranging his fringe was full of motherly affection. Was that how all mothers were in Auradon? Maybe this was a special brand of tenderness belonging only to this pair, who radiated the same kind aura.

Ben pushed his dessert plate to Mal. “Here. Have my share.”

“And you have mine son. I couldn’t manage one bite, I’m too full,” Queen Belle stood up, “And quite tired now that I think about it. I’ll bid you two good night.”

Mal and Ben stood up, surprised. “Are you sure Mom?”

She smiled. “Quite. I’m very glad we did this Mal. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“Um, thank you, your majesty, we should.”

The maître d’ followed her out, closing the door with a mysterious grin and leaving them alone. Mal and Ben sat and looked at each other. She fidgeted. He seemed as much at a loss as she was. And then he smiled.

“What I meant to say before was that you look beautiful tonight.”

Her skin raised in goose bumps. Uh oh.

Chapter Text

Evie didn’t know exactly how it turned out like this but every morning she would go and have breakfast with Doug. By her own perfect design, every night was reserved for Chad. They were two very different parts of her day. Evie and Doug would talk about whatever, never short of words or far away from laughing. Chad never laughed. But he enjoyed himself by investigating Evie’s body as thoroughly as the devil would have checked out Eve’s in paradise. She was satisfied with the progress she was making with him. Everything was going her way.

She found Doug at their usual table in the old study hall and they both smiled.

“One of these days I’m going to get here before you and I’ll stumble around like a blind man looking for coffee,” she sat down heavily and inhaled the life-giving aroma.

“I have punctuality disorder so forget about it,” he passed her a mug and their fingers brushed when she took it. A frisson passed through them – not the first time it had happened with an accidental touch – and Doug raised his eyes, but Evie refused to look at him and simply sipped her coffee. He took a bite of toast.

“How’s Dizzy’s dress coming along?” He asked.

Evie smiled fondly at the thought of her protégé. “It’s…well. I haven’t said anything but it’s getting away from her a bit. I’m all for experimentation but this creation is too out there. It’s Gil’s fault. He’s a bad influence.”

“Those two have become thick as thieves, haven’t they?”

“No, Gil’s just thick. And Dizzy’s too kind and won’t tell him to go bother someone else and it’s affecting her work.”

“You’re jealous,” Doug grinned.

She gave him an affronted look. “I am not.”

“Mal has Carlos and Jay and you’re not jealous of them, are you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying that Dizzy having fun with someone else doesn’t take anything away from the special relationship the two of you share.”

“I am not threatened by Gil of all people,” she growled.

Doug held up his hands. “Okay.”

“Dizzy can have as many friends as she wants. I simply question Gil’s skill as an assistant. He has no taste or imagination and zero experience with design. If I had more time for her she wouldn’t need help from anyone else and of course I’d help if I could but Mal needs me and this bloody war is going on and anyway Dizzy seemed to have no problem finding someone else to talk to, even if she and Gil have nothing in common and he didn’t give a damn about her on the Isle – “ she stopped rambling on when she saw Doug’s knowing look. Flustered, she picked up a slice of toast and shoved it into his mouth. “Can we just eat, please?”

He hummed in agreement and chewed. Her appetite gone, she crushed the cereal in her bowl and turned it to sludge. But Doug wouldn’t let her descend into a mood – he never did. Somehow he managed to draw her back out and into light hearted conversation.

She liked their breakfasts together. It gave her a chance to put aside Mal and her endless machinations, the gloom of war and the irritation of living near the noisiest, most ill-groomed boys in the land. Sometimes she thought she’d be hiding in the bathroom most of the time if not for Doug.

“So I was thinking, maybe you could come over tonight and we could watch them?”

Evie sat up straighter, realizing she’d missed something. “Huh?

“Those classic films we were talking about. I have a few. You could gush over the vintage outfits and I could make fun of the terrible sound editing and the horrific misuse of green screen. The storylines aren’t half-bad – “

“Tonight?” she cut in.

“Yeah. If duty doesn’t call we should be able to steal an hour for ourselves,” he pushed his glasses up and gazed at her intently.

Evie peered into her coffee mug. “I can’t tonight.”

“Tomorrow night then?”

She thumped her coffee down harder than she’d intended. She smiled her Letting Him Down Gently Smile. “Doug. Recently, Prince Chad and I have gotten…close. I don’t want him getting the wrong idea about you and me.”

His expression clouded at Chad’s name. He worked his jaw, discontented.  “What if it was the right idea?”

She laughed a little like he was being ridiculous. It didn’t deter him.

“Evie, I like spending time with you. I like it a lot. And I think you do too, so why don’t we - ”

“I told you. I’m seeing Chad.”

He smiled thinly. “Yes. Knowing Chad, I can imagine it’s a deep and meaningful exchange.”

“Now who’s jealous?” Evie smirked.

Doug scrubbed his face and shifted in his seat, looking tired all of a sudden. She took pity and reached over and squeezed his hand. 

“I do like spending time with you. But it’s different with Chad. He’s different.”

“You mean, he’s a handsome prince and I’m the geeky son of a dwarf.”

She snapped back her hand and crossed her arms. He stared back at her, unrepentant.

“I didn’t think you’d be the type of guy to get all huffy and offended when a girl says no to a date,” she said.

He sighed, thawing a little. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go out with me because you don’t like me that way. I can understand that. What I can’t understand is why Chad. Wouldn’t you rather a good guy than a terrible prince?”

“He’s strong and fearless and – “

“ – and mean and egotistical and so damaged by the war that there’s no way he’s seeing you because he actually wants you Evie,” his eyes implored her to listen to him, “Not like I want you.”

She bit her lip. “You don’t know me.”

Doug’s smile was almost mournful. “You’re an amazing dancer and a terrible mixologist. Truly, the drinks at the stinkeri were horrendous. You love your friends more than anything. You can also get depressed sometimes and believe you’re not worth much. But you are incredibly smart and creative and full of dreams. And you’re the only girl I’ve ever met who feels things with her whole soul. That’s what I know.”

Stunned, she could only look at him. This boy with the clunky glasses and bowtie superglued to his person, the unflattering nose and flawed skin and a smile that had grown more charming each morning. He made her heart constrict. Silently, she stood up from the table and walked away. He didn’t chase after her.

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Mal barely paused in her pacing when Evie walked into their bedroom. “Great. You’re back. I need someone to vent at and the boys have disappeared. Can you believe we are still sitting on our hands? I told Ben we should be moving but no, the council has convinced him we need more time to regroup and that guerrilla strikes against Shan Yu’s army is the best we can do right now. I think waiting around for Maleficent’s next move is what they were doing for the entire war before we showed up. And MAAM! There’s never been a more infuriating bunch of - ”

She turned on her heel and noticed Evie sitting on the end of her bed, her gaze downcast and clearly lost in thought. “E, at least pretend to listen.”

Evie sighed and lifted her head, looking in Mal’s general direction.

“I almost feel sorry for Ben, to have inherited this system of ruling. This is no way to win a war or run a kingdom,” Mal resumed pacing, “Being constantly side-tracked by a bleeding heart council and stonewalled from every decisive action by a cult of hags. You will never see me letting others run my kingdom.”

“I’m very much aware it’ll be a dictatorship.”

“People need to be kept in line and in their place or shit like this happens. You wait Evie. In the future everyone will know exactly who’s in charge.”

“And they’ll toast you with champagne and dance in the streets to celebrate how much better things are.”

Mal stopped in her tracks at the heavy sarcasm. A most peculiar expression was Evie’s face, one she’d never seen before. Evie put a manicured nail on her chin thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, will champagne even be allowed in the new world order? Will they dance in a street that’s overrun by criminals or is dancing banned in any case? You do loathe parties.”

“What’s with you?” Mal wondered. “Did my goblins steal more of your face masks?”

Evie stood and leaned against the bedpost, shrugging too casually. “I’d like to be prepared. It’s not going to be much fun when we take over and I guess I’d like to know the worst now before we’re living through it.”

Shocked, Mal’s head jerked back. Evie now studied the floor but her jaw was set defiantly. Mal could say nothing for a long moment; a seasoned navigator who couldn’t find their location on the map. Out of the reactions to pick from she settled on concern for her best friend. Something had upset Evie and was causing her to act weird.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” she took Evie by the shoulders, “Why are you being stupid?”

Evie’s expression softened. She took a shuddering breath. “It’s not stupid Mal. Don’t you think it’s time we…reassessed what the plan is for us after we get revenge on our mothers? We’ve seen and done so much in Auradon. We don’t have to…”

“Don’t have to what?” Mal frowned, lost without a clue.

Evie clasped Mal’s hands close. “Lets…forget the old plan. Just forget it. The people here trust us now. They like us. Back on the Isle, we never dreamed that could happen. Every day, more and more, they’re looking at us like we’re heroes and there’s really no reason why we can’t…stay that way.”

Evie’s grip was tight, nearly painful. Mal searched her face, the lines and curves of features she knew so well she could stretch them on paper in total darkness. She could trace them when concussed. When centuries dead.

“Are you insane?” Mal asked softly. She pushed away from her, taking a deliberate step back. “Seriously. Have you lost your mind?”

“We could do it. We could.”

“Why in the seven circles of hell would we?”

Evie had the audacity to scoff in disbelief. “Oh, I don’t know. To live in comfort and fame and probable riches. To live in a beautiful city with beautiful people without a care in the world.”

Mal felt like tearing out her hair and wondered if it was possible she was hallucinating this conversation. “Have you forgotten who you are? Who we are? Shit. We’re supposed to be villains. We’re meant to stomp on the spine of the world until it breaks and have a great time doing it!”

Evie crossed her arms and glared. “Because that’s how our parents wanted it or because you say so?”

“Everyone says it!” Mal shouted, gesturing at what lay outside their door, the cold reality Evie wasn’t facing. “You’ve let our little deception go to your head. You’ve deluded yourself into thinking we can change our nature. But you can be damn sure the Auradonians haven’t forgotten where we come from. The only reason we’re accepted now is because they need us. The second they don’t, it’s pitchforks and torches.”

“That’s not true. Some people believe we can be different…better! Something more than a tidal wave of hate. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t listen to him.”

Mal eyebrows shot up. “Him?” She laughed and walked to the window. She closed her eyes and rubbed them. Unfuckingbelievable. She laughed again and turned back with a mean, triumphant grin. “Of course this is about a guy.”

“It’s not,” Evie protested.

“You’re so pathetic. Every single time I think you’re over your princess complex you let some guy screw with your head and you’re crying in bed for two weeks. This is another breakdown like all the ones before.”

“It’s not!” Evie cried.

Sneering, Mal stalked over and stared her down. “You’re not a princess Evie. You never will be, despite what your mother let you believe. You’re not going to snag a prince and live in a darling castle and have adoring subjects. What you are, is selfish and shallow and fake. You’re a bitch! And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think the only way you will stop being so useless and become the villainess you were meant to be is if you quit being so childish and grow up!”

Evie looked ill. She held her head up like it was taking all her strength to do so. Her voice was full of cracks but she spoke steadily enough to be heard: “Agrabah. Towering Heights. Neverland. The victims trapped there…we witnessed one day of their suffering. One. And it was horrible. Do you really want to do that to people Mal? Why would you want to do that?”

Mal felt the blood drain from her face. She stiffened and drew herself up. Her hand trembled with the urge to strike Evie for the first time in their lives. Evie saw this and raised her quivering chin, daring her to do it.

Mal spoke deep and harsh, unrecognisable even to her own ears. “I shouldn’t have brought you along. I always knew you were the soft VK.”

“Em…”

“Auradon has made you softer. And I won’t tolerate it. I will not. Fix it. Before I do.”

She whipped the door to their room open and threw it closed so forcefully it shook. Striding down the hallway, she didn’t hear what Carlos and Jay said to her when she came across them in the hall and shoved them aside. She took no notice of her surroundings. Maleficent herself would have to appear for Mal to acknowledge anything outside herself right now.

Hot tears began slipping down her cheeks.

She dashed outside into the garden as sobs threatened to suffocate her lungs. She sank down against a hedge with a palm on her chest, feeling the vibrations of the storm raging inside. She cried as she had never cried before. Her ears were ringing with the strength of the emotions tearing through and threatening to scatter her.

She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them and buried her head. What Evie had said, what Mal had said back, burned the edges of her mind and she exiled the memory as best as she could. Eventually, she worked herself down to sniffles and gray exhaustion. It was cold and damp in the shade of the overgrown garden and the hedge was scratching into her back. She couldn’t find the will to move. She shredded twigs and leaves absently. She didn’t know what to do now. She didn’t want to go back inside.

“Mal?”

And she definitely didn’t want to see Ben right now. How had he even found her? Did the boy have a magical compass with an M instead of an N on it? She waved a hand dismissively in the direction of his voice. “Not now.”

Footsteps. She didn’t look at him but she did wipe her nose.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Mortification at being seen in this condition would undoubtably come later when she was less numb. She stared straight ahead and passively accepted his sitting down next to her. They weren’t close enough to touch but his warm presence was unmistakable.

“You’re not fine,” he said quietly.

“Evie and I had a fight. That’s all.”

“Ah. Is it…is it a couple’s thing?”

She frowned. “What?”

“A lover’s quarrel.”

Mal’s lip curled up in derision at the label. “Evie’s my best friend.”

“Oh. Really? Well that’s…I mean, I thought you two were – “

She exhaled, irritated. He swallowed back his next words, cleared his throat and tried again. “Do you want to talk about it? Is there any way I can help?”

“No. I don’t feel like talking Ben.”

“Then we won’t. I can just sit here with you, if you want.”

She didn’t say anything. And neither did he. So they sat together like that for a long time, with Mal refusing to yield but Ben waiting, ready, if she did.

Chapter Text

With every sideways glance or sigh from Evie, Mal thought this was the moment she would apologize. Mal expected her to take back every foolish thing she’d said and could picture her remorseful face so clearly it was like a memory. But Evie did not apologize. They co-existed: that was the most generous way to describe it. They slept in the same room, shared their bathroom, stood side by side and talked to Jay and Carlos as if nothing was wrong. Everything was the same except they were separated by a pane of ice neither were willing to crack with a first step.

In the study hall, Mal was torturing and eating her breakfast – because if she was miserable, then by the gods this toast would be shredded and chomped and chewed and generally feel her pain – when Evie came up to her. She wore the same flat expression she’d adopted since their argument but in spite of herself Mal felt her hopes rise. This must be it. Evie had saved face by dragging it out but now she would bend and Mal wouldn’t make it too painful for her.

Evie looked down at her and said only, “Ben needs to see you.”

Hope froze to death. Mal wiped the crumbs and butter from her face and stood stiffly. Without a word, they walked together. Only when she smacked open the door to the briefing room did she start to worry about why Ben requested her. She scanned the faces of the council members and Aziz and Chad. They weren’t panicked which eliminated the more interesting possibilities.

Evie gave a little wave to Chad. He pretended not to see it and she dropped her hand.

“What’s the deal?” Mal asked the room.

Ben gestured her over to the digital table they surrounded and showed a map. “Mama Odie has had a vision and our intelligence agents have confirmed the information.”

“It ain't a vision boy!” Mama Odie stretched to make herself seen above the table, “My vision’s been gone for years ha!”

“I meant – ”

“It’s called scrying. Don’t talk bout magic if you don’t know nothing,” she whacked her stick on the floor, “Why are there no goddam chairs here?”

He turned apologetically to his guard. “Chad, do you mind?”

Chad looked like he did mind leaving to fetch a chair like a servant and strode out the door with ill-grace.

“Ben?” Mal pleaded impatiently.

He zoomed the map in. “Captives are being marched from North Riding into Towering Heights. We think they’re going to be used as hostages to stop our attack so Shan Yu’s army can reorganize.”

“That’s it then. If they’re using human shields we pull back,” Evie said.

“The prisoners haven’t arrived yet. There’s still time to save them,” Fairy Godmother beamed.

“Save them?” Mal echoed.

Ben looked at her. “I’m leading a strike team. We get in, rescue our people and get out.”

“No, no, no, no. Just to keep Shan Yu on the run for a few more days? It’s too great a risk.”

“From what Mama Odie saw, the prisoners are lightly guarded. They’re not expecting trouble.”

“From what she saw?” Mal repeated sceptically.

“Was that a dig about my blindness? Only I’m allowed to do that,” Mama Odie said.

Fa Mulan traced the land in-between Towering Heights and North Riding, highlighting geographical details. “They’ll take the quickest, easiest path. The best positions for an ambush are here, in these hills. You can drop down and hit them fast and hard.”

Quasimodo rubbed his hands. “We have a chance to save innocents and do some real good. It’s not a chance that’s come often enough in this war.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Mal caught Evie smiling softly at the emotion in his voice. Sudden anger made her glare at Ben.

“This is crazy. You are the king. Putting yourself in danger to liberate a region is fine but when it’s just a handful of people? How does saving them help us win anything?”

He made to answer but Doug walked in, oblivious to everything but the tablet he was swiping at. When he looked up he appeared surprised to see them all here. His eyes met Evie’s then darted away.

“This is who we have to thank for confirming the intel,” Ben walked over to Doug and clapped him on the shoulder. He gave a look to Mal, “Doug can you tell us what you learned about the threat level we can expect?”

Doug cleared his throat. “Our spy satellite showed no more than forty-two human heat signatures and analysing movement patterns we believe sixteen of those signatures are prisoners. While Maleficent disdains technology, not all her followers do, and we have tracked five texts from one of the enemy soldiers. In disturbingly juvenile texts to his mother, he says that he and his company are bored, tired and impatient to deliver the ‘Auradeads to TH’,” Doug pushed his glasses up and said quietly, “Auradeads is a trending word amongst the enemy.”

“You discovered all that by yourself?” Evie asked.

“My team,” he replied vaguely.

“Doug is my director of Cyber Intelligence Operations. I don’t know where we would be without him,” Ben said.

“I’m just a cog in a machine, I do my part, that’s all.”

Aziz spoke up. “Don’t be stupid. You warned us before Agrabah was attacked,” He turned to Mal and Evie, “He’s responsible for the early evacuation we managed to get. He’s why my family and I are alive today.”

Evie stared at Doug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were some kind of spymaster?”

“I didn’t want you to think a fancy job title made me any less of a geek.”

Evie blinked like a cat that had just been bopped on the nose.

Mal crossed her arms and scowled at Ben. He came over and grabbed her arm and took her out into the hall for some privacy.

“You can’t be serious about this mission,” Mal jumped in first. “It’s completely unnecessary.”

“I’m perfectly serious. And I want you to join me.”

“What? Why? You don’t need me to get this thing done.”

“If you don’t understand then come see for yourself why this mission has value,” he challenged.

“I think I could find something more useful to do around here.”

His lips quirked. “Is the great and mighty hero of Neverland now above getting her hands dirty?”

She ground her teeth. “No.”

“Then it’s settled.”

She drew out the only card she had left that might get her out of this. “Don’t you feel guilty about making me do something I really don’t want to do? Isn’t that a big no no for a good guy?”

“Maybe your evil is rubbing off on me,” and he let out a half-baked villainous laugh. He sounded and looked absurd.

She shoved him and he laughed his genuine one, the outpouring of warm sound fitting him to a T. She couldn’t help but smile.

They turned at the return of Chad carrying a heavy oak chair. He was not alone. A striking, dark haired young woman wearing a sunset-colored kaftan and a head chain with a small sapphire in the middle was dogging his heels and talking at him. When she saw Ben her eyes lit up and when they landed on Mal, positively caught fire. Mal suspected she’d soon be copying Chad’s long-suffering expression. The girl overtook Chad and came up to them.

“Your majesty,” The girl said and then was stumped, “And uh, Lady Mal.”

“Just Mal is fine.”

“Excellent,” she shook her hand with enthusiasm, “I’m Jordan Karran, reporter for A.N.N.”

“Aaah. Auradon News Network. The Isle’s favorite thing to watch on tv.”

Either Jordan was unaware the A.N.N was the only channel the Isle was allowed or she didn’t understand sarcasm. She beamed. “Yes, we’re very proud of our dynamic coverage. Which is why I’m so glad to run into you both. Chad told me there’s going to be a mission to rescue some of our citizens.”

Ben looked reproachful at his guard. “A secret mission.”

Chad put down the chair and cracked his back with a wince. “She forced it out of me. She’s Nosy, the missing eighth dwarf.”

“Jordan, reporters aren’t allowed on these premises, you know that.”

“Oh, I’m not here in an official capacity. I thought to visit my father. He’s dating one of the portraits in the gallery, or so he says. It’s not my fault if a juicy story falls into my lap along the way, now is it?”

“We have no comment at this time. We’ll contact A.N.N with a statement later, maybe.”

Jordan blocked his way back to the briefing room. “But I’m not looking for a statement. I want to come and report live in the field with you.”

“That’s impossible. It’s too dangerous.”

She huffed. “People are risking their lives every day and many of them are my friends. How can I not do the same? The public deserves to know what’s going on in this war.”

“Jordan. It’s a no.”

He moved to go and she stepped into his path again. Mal wondered if she was about to see Jordan drop to the floor and wrap around Ben’s leg to keep him from leaving.

“I’m trying to help you! This is about empowering your subjects. Can you imagine what it would do for morale to see their king in action, defying the forces of evil and fighting for the kingdom? And how about you?” she whipped her head towards Mal, “No doubt the daughter of Maleficent has quite a tale to tell about how she and her friends ended up here, and as firm allies of Auradon. Don’t you want to give the public the opportunity to see things from your perspective and get to know the real you?”

It was a rhetorical question; obviously, the reporter couldn’t imagine Mal not wanting to spill her guts for the perusal of the whole country. Jordan drew herself up, took a breath and looked her king straight in the eye. “Right now, the people are relying on rumors and speculation for what’s been going on and what happens next. Ignorance breeds fear, Ben. Keep them in the dark and anytime we take a hit they’ll feel like victims, not soldiers.”

He didn’t say anything and rubbed the gold beast ring on his finger carefully. Jordan pressed on. “Please. Let me show them the best of what we can do because they’ve already seen all of Maleficent’s worst.”

He lifted his head, decided. “Mal’s coming on the mission and the VK’s presence can’t be public knowledge yet because then Maleficent would know. We want her ignorant and afraid.”

Mal raised a finger. “I have no problem with staying – ”

“And even if Mal weren’t coming, which she is, I still wouldn’t bring you with me. Civilians don’t belong on a battlefield Jordan and your life is worth more than your microphone.”

He slid past her and opened the door for Mal and Chad. She stepped through and Chad grunted as he picked up the chair. Ben shut the door on Jordan’s crestfallen face.

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Belly to the ground on top of a scraggy hill, waiting to catch some of her mother’s lackeys unaware, Mal didn’t know why she had resisted coming here. Getting out of the castle and away from the frigid silence between her and Evie and into a scrap was just what the mad scientist ordered. Maybe a day apart would give Evie time to reflect and regain her senses.

Jay dug his elbow into her side until she grunted and handed the binoculars to him. He scanned the road below with barely restrained bloodlust. Mal didn’t reign him in, Jay was the only VK by her side. Uma and Hook were not interested in a fight where they had nothing to gain. Carlos was not interested in a fight when he could play with Dude instead. And gods only know what was wrong with Gil these days.  

The highway connecting North Riding and Towering Heights had been blown up years ago in Auradon’s retreat in a desperate bid to delay the enemy’s advance. The best way through now without adding days of hard hiking to one’s journey was an old forester’s road snaking around the hills and rock crags. To the north Mal could see the The Great Wall rising high above the tallest trees, stretching from east to west from one side of the continent to the other. In another lifetime it had stopped Shan Yu in his tracks with the help of Fa Mulan. But no wall was high enough to stop dragons.

General Mulan had chosen their position well. When their quarry appeared on the road, Mal and the others were hidden above in the brambles and trees, ready for a perfect ambush. Mal wrestled the binoculars back from Jay to spy what they were up against.

Leading the company and flanking the sides were swordsmen on horseback. An air of discipline set them apart from the foot soldiers who walked with a rolling gait in no real formation and pushed each other around like bored school kids. Shuffling in a tight line in the middle of the company were their captives, chained together by their manacled wrists, and even at this distance Mal recognised the blank, hopeless look in their eyes that had become all too familiar. A soldier nudged his buddy to get his attention and extended his leg out and tripped a slave. The slave yelped and the ones chained behind and in front staggered and the whole line was dragged to a halt. A mounted soldier trotted closer and brought a whip down hard and a gasping cry split the sky. Cringing, the captives started forward again while the soldier who tripped them sniggered with his friend.

Do you really want to do that to people Mal?  Why would you want to do that?  

Mal bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood and couldn't hear Evie anymore. She put the binoculars away and joined the rest in sneaking down the hill with bent back, crawling through the underbrush at times, to get that little bit closer to their targets.

“Thank you a thousand times for letting me fight at your side once again Mistress,” Captain Blibtogs whispered. Despite his pot belly he was nimbler than she in this rocky landscape which unfortunately meant he could keep up with her.

“You nagged me until I felt I must bring you along or put you down a well.”

“To serve you is the great pride of my life, Your Horribleness. I would be even prouder – and I am already very proud – if I had been with you in Neverland. Whenever and wherever, your captain is ready to serve proudly.”

“Yes, yes, just remember your job, Blibtogs.”

“Oh yes, Mistress. Your minions will never let you down, you wait and – “

“Blibtogs. Shut up.”

Then Ben must’ve given the signal. Horses crashed past in the spaces between the ambush party, thundering through the bush and down the hill with riders dressed head to toe in heavy Agrabah robes of red, gold and white. The riders whooped and howled and those on the road froze for a split second, looking around wildly as their precarious situation washed over them. Mal and the others on foot leapt up and charged. The goblins flowed down as easily as mountain goats but it took all her concentration to beat a path safely down the incline until she surged onto the road and drew her weapon.

The cavalry was upon the enemy; their steeds had punched through their formation and sent them scattering and now the riders flourished their curved scimitars, felling foot soldiers like stalks of wheat before a sickle. The enemy riders mustered and met them steed to steed with hacking swords.

She saw that her minions had bypassed the chaos and had reached the captives, who huddled together in fear as they were rounded up in a protective circle of bared goblin teeth. Mal and Jay moved to go to them.

“Your left,” she said to him as a soldier came barrelling to attack his side.

Jay blocked the sword that came at him and she couldn’t help because a man approached with the head of his wicked three-pointed spear aimed at her chest.

“Die bitch,” he spat.

The spear darted close in quick jabs to try and puncture yet another hole in her black heart. Mal stepped back and parried awkwardly, her blade skimming off the spear’s length. The spear’s reach was superior to her sword’s and kept her attacker out of range and safe. She had to pick the perfect moment.

She just stopped the spear from skewering her thigh when stamping hooves sounded too close and she and the spearman leapt apart for two horses circling each other tight, their mouths pulled into snarls by their reigns and their riders oblivious to everything but the swords partnered in a lethal dance above their heads. Through the flurry of dust the riders left in their wake came a thrusting spearhead and Mal leapt back in a less than dignified jump.

Her attacker sneered and charged forward to impale her.

Enough of this. With her left hand she grabbed hold of the top of her sword and used the flat of the blade to knock the spearhead aside then she closed the gap between them and with the barest turn of her sword she sliced open his throat. Hot blood spewed. His dying gurgle was in her ear. She shrugged it off and went onward.

Jay dispatched his own opponent just as she reached him and they went to the goblins. The captives cowered at the sight of them. Maybe it was the blood splattered on her face.

After the initial charge the battle was over quickly, the enemy overwhelmed by their numbers. The few left alive dropped their weapons and were shoved into the dirt and cuffed. The Agrabah riders cooled their horses down and calmly wiped their scimitars clean until again they shone like thin slices of the moon. The goblins threw insults at the new prisoners and cheered and patted themselves on the back. Blibtogs crossed his arms and nodded satisfactorily as if he had orchestrated the victory himself.

“Stop sulking. That’s more action than back at the castle,” Mal said to Jay.

“I guess,” he sighed. 

The captives finally seemed to realize that they were rescued. Several sank to their feet in exhaustion. She was scanning the road for Ben when hands latched onto her and forcibly turned her around. She stared into the dirty, tear-streaked face of a young woman who looked at her like Mal was the rising sun after an impossibly long night.

“Thank you,” was said through dry, cracked lips, “Thank you.”

Chains jangled as Mal roughly freed herself and backed away from the petite girl.

Jay was mobbed when he got out his lock picking kit and the prisoners couldn’t get their shackles off fast enough. He too was thanked profusely but he wasn’t bothered by it like Mal. He even seemed pleased.

And there was Ben walking towards her and Mal tried not to scowl at him. He would ask why she was in a bad mood after their perfectly executed mission and she didn’t know what she’d say. She was afraid of what she might say if she gave voice to the panic-peppered anger racing through her.

There was blood on his face as well. But no. It was his own blood. She crossed the last few steps to him and raised her hand to trace the gash above his eyebrow.

“It’s just a cut. I’m fine,” he said.

He took her wrist and lowered her hand gently. She was hyperaware of the graze of his fingers as he let go. His hazel eyes searched her own face and she lowered her gaze.

Suddenly she was pushed aside. The petite girl who had thanked Mal now threw herself against Ben and cried, shaking and babbling incoherently. Mal very nearly spluttered. What was with this chick? Gratitude sure could make a person pathetic, fast.

She was about to stomp back to Jay and leave the king to be worshipped by his subjects when Mal was arrested by the expression on his face. His pupils were blown wide as he stared into space. He was utterly still, his arms hanging limply at his sides as the girl clutched at him and rubbed her face into his chest. Mal looked over her shoulder. But there was no one there and nothing to cause alarm. She frowned at Ben. His hand came up to tentatively press against the girl’s back and hold her closer.

“Audrey.”

Chapter Text

The Three Good Fairies wept, surrounding where Audrey sat and continually touching her to check she was real. Ben dismissed everyone else from the room and stood by and let them take their time. They deserved this moment. He’d never seen the three fairies lose composure like this; only for their beloved princess. And as for Audrey, they were closest thing to family she had and she warmed herself with their every kiss and embrace.

Fauna blew her nose with a handkerchief. “Bless Mama Odie and her wonderful magic. It’s her vision that brought you back to us. Otherwise we would’ve always believed…” she was overcome and could say no more.

Flora clasped Audrey’s face and kissed her on the forehead. “Thank The Powers you’re safe my dear. We thought we’d lost you.”

Audrey smiled and patted her hand. “I was lost. But you found me, like I knew you would.”

Merryweather scrubbed her cheeks angrily. “Look at us, blubbering like a bunch of ninnies! Let’s get you out these rags.”

With a wave of her wand, Audrey’s matted hair shivered and fell in glossy waves, her torn and filthy dress was replaced by a blue tea dress and ballet flats appeared on her feet. Audrey rubbed the material of her dress between her thumb and forefinger. She thanked the fairy quietly. She was still shockingly thin and the makeup could not completely hide the strain of her imprisonment but some of her loveliness had been restored.

“Audrey,” Ben said, and she looked up at him. Guilt and shame were thick in his throat when he gazed into her familiar brown eyes. With an effort, he spoke. “I know it must be difficult. But…could you tell us what happened?”

Fauna wrapped an arm around her shoulders protectively. “You don’t have to, love. If it’s too soon…”

“No. No, it’s okay,” Audrey took a deep breath. “When…when Maleficent was attacking the castle. My parents disguised me as a commoner and sent me to hide with the servants. Then, when the roof was caving in and…and fire was everywhere….” She bit her trembling lip.

Flora shot a reproachful look to Ben. “She needs rest. Do we have to do this now?”

“Godmother, please,” Audrey said and took a deep breath. “Many died. It was horrible. We tried to escape but we were surrounded and rounded up. I saw…when Maleficant brought out Mom and Daddy and Grammie and…and executed them, I was right there,” she swallowed, “I wanted to scream and cry and let her know how much I hated her. But I couldn’t make a sound. Not if I was going to live.”

Audrey bowed her head under the weight of her story. A silent river of tears were now shed by the fairies as they mourned anew for their adopted niece and her family. Behind his back, Ben’s fists clenched. Pain, fear and anger had never blemished Audrey for as long as Ben had known her. Fishhooks were clawing through the chambers of his heart, seeing her like this, hearing how much she’d endured.

Her eyes were dry but sharp with memory when she raised her head. “They thought I’d died in the fire or when the castle collapsed. Of course no one recognised the plain, dirty, desperate creature I’d become. So I survived. I fought to live even when I didn’t want to, hoping against all hope that one day I could come home. And then suddenly,” her expression gentled, “there you were Ben.”

She got up and came to wrap her arms around him. Ben squeezed her tight and then had to draw her back and tip her face up to look at him. There was so much that needed to be said. And even though it was tainted by a selfish desire to get some small relief, he knew what had to be aired first.

“Audrey, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. For everything you went through. And for not being able to protect you, as a boyfriend or a prince. I failed you and your family.”

She caressed his cheek as if reacquainting herself with the feel of him. “Maleficent is to blame. Not you. Don’t let her destroy us too. Sometimes the thought of you was the only thing that kept me going.”

And she pressed her lips soundly against his. Her mouth was soft and sweet and his was frozen, her eyes were closed in bliss but his were open, staring at her face so close to his. She grinned up at him and laid her head against his chest.

“Benny-boo, I almost can’t believe we’re together again. It’s like a dream.”

“Now, what a picture that is. Could there be anything more perfect?” Flora clasped her hands together and held them to her chin, peering over at them with satisfaction.

Fauna raised her eyes to heaven. “True love really does overcome all obstacles. Just as your dear mother taught us. She would be so proud of you both.”

Audrey smiled back at the fairies and then looked at Ben with complete trust.

There was so much to say. And how could he possibly say it?

He was a coward. A fool. A beast. He said only, “I have to get back and make arrangements for the others who we freed. Is there anything you need, anything I can do for you?”

She shook her head then seemed to think again. “May I visit them soon? I’d like to see for myself that they’re okay. We’ve been through a lot together.”

Her kindly impulse and the reminder of her trauma made him feel even worse. He managed a smile. “Of course. Of course you can. I’ll send someone for you when they’re ready.”

She clutched his arm. “I know you have your duties. But try and come yourself Bennie. We’ve spent too long apart.”

And she gave him one last lingering kiss before he made his escape.

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Lonnie sprang up from the chair when her king entered his quarters. He looked dazed, concussed even. She supposed that was to be expected when one’s girlfriend comes back from the dead.

“How is she?” Lonnie asked.

At school, Lonnie had developed a dislike for the princess. Not only had they nothing in common but Audrey had fancied herself the exalted leader of all the girls in the school. Lonnie remembered thinking she’d never do as her mother wished and apply for a position working with the royal family if it meant serving the prince’s girlfriend.

But Audrey was still someone she knew, an Auradonian who had been though the hell of war, and Lonnie found herself as emotional at the news as if it were her oldest friend who been recovered.

“She’s okay,” Ben said, “Physically, I mean. She’s malnourished and obviously exhausted, but we can fix that.”

Lonnie noted the tension in his shoulders as he turned his back and poured himself a glass of water from the carafe on the side table. He drank deeply and continued speaking with his gaze on the floor. “I think she’s going to be all right, thank gods. What she’s been through…and to still be…she’s stronger than we ever knew.”

“Good. That’s good.”

He still wouldn’t meet her eye.

“Ben. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said immediately, then winced at the crack in his voice. “It’s…it’s not important right now.”

“Something about Audrey?” she guessed.

“If I tell you, you might lose all respect for me.”

“I doubt that. But I’m just in this for the paycheck anyway so...”

He looked at her, muttered, and put his glass down and went to sink into a chair. She sat down opposite him, watching him carefully.

“Audrey is acting like the last few years don’t matter. Like nothing’s changed, when it comes to her and…and me.”

“Ah,” she said.

“And you know how untrue that is. You’re the only one who knows.”

“Yeah,” she said. Lonnie knew very little about romantic relationships. Okay, she knew nothing. She figured it was best to be blunt. “You don’t love Audrey.”

Ben groaned and his head fell into his hands.

“It’s not a crime,” she comforted.

“I couldn’t tell her it’s over. How could I? She’s been hurt so much already and then she comes back and I immediately…but is it any better to lie to her? What if I tell her and she completely falls apart? But how can I go along with her when I’m in love with…”

“Mira,” Lonnie said.

Ben slowly raised his head. He wore a curious expression with many shades of guilt and confusion.

She raised her eyebrows. “…right?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re in love with Mira, aren’t you?

His expression glazed over. “Yes,” he said, then flinched as if in sudden pain. “I…I don’t know. Sometimes….”

“What?”

“When I’m with Mira, I forget about everything else but her. I’m soaring through the clouds and drunk on every word she says.”

“Yes and her eyes are like chocolate fondue you can dip marshmallows in. I know,” she reminded him, having heard all this before and at great length.

He nodded. “She’s beautiful. Perfect. And I think ‘nothing could be better than this.’ But, then…when I’m with Mal…”

Lonnie rubbed her temple. Wonderful. Now Mal was in the mix. Lonnie’s training had not prepared her for this. “Yes, I’ve noticed the two of you have gotten…chummy. Go on. What’s it like with her?”

Ben stopped fidgeting. He looked at a point over Lonnie’s shoulder. “Different,” he said simply.

With a noise of disgust, he stood up and paced about the room. “Audrey’s down the hall, half-dead and reliving her horrors, and I’m worried about not being with the girlfriend I want. What’s wrong with me?”

That was the question. Lonnie had been ninety-nine percent certain that the VKs had somehow trapped Ben in a love spell. She had only desired a little more time to observe his behavior and remove all doubt, then she could betray the trust of her poor hoodwinked king and report all to Fairy Godmother. But why would the VKs spell Ben to pine for Mira and Mal? How did that help them? It was an awkward, attention-grabbing ploy. It made no sense.  

Perhaps Lonnie had been wrong. Maybe this affair boiled down to nothing more but the romantic melodrama she had bypassed as a teenager and which she was currently receiving too much second-hand experience of.

“I am one of the few anchors Audrey has at the moment,” Ben continued rambling, “You should have seen her Lonnie, she…If I break up with her I don’t know what kind of damage I’d be doing. I can’t do that to her. I can’t. Especially if right now I cannot even be with…with whoever it is I want to be with!” he ran his hands through his hair and growled, “I’m a total mess.”

“I agree the situation is a total mess,” Lonnie stood up and went to put a bracing hand on his shoulder, “Don’t feel guilty for thinking a little about yourself, your majesty, when the impact on your life is this huge. But that’s as far as I can advise you. You need wiser counsel. Which is why…I think we should tell someone about all this. Fairy Godmother. Or the queen?”

Ben was already shaking his head. She pressed on. “Ben, they could help you untangle this, help you choose the best course – “

He shook her off almost angrily. “I promised Mira I wouldn’t tell anyone. The least I can do for her is keep my word. She’s going to be hurt enough about my charade with Audrey.”

The look on her face must’ve been pitiable because he pasted on a reassuring smile. “It won’t be like this for long Lonnie. Once Audrey finds her feet and her confidence returns I can come clean with her. As for Mira and Mal…” his smile faltered and collapsed, “This way, I have a little time to get my head on straight.”

Lonnie agreed with resignation. The VKs were up to something – she’d overheard as much when spying on Gil and Hook at the stinkeri – but what direction their plot was taking and where the king fit into it, she hadn’t a clue anymore. The king was even more oblivious than she – that was the ultimate burden of being captain of the royal guard. Only she noticed the vibrations of the ground beneath their feet and the threatening rumble overhead. She was stuck with her suspicions and could only stay close to Ben’s side and wait for the cave-in.

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It had been a long, emotionally excruciating day and all Ben wanted to do was get into bed. He contemplated his sallow appearance in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. He deserved every tired line and much worse for playing with three women like he was. What would his father have said?

For Dad, love had shot straight and true and that love proved eternal and singular. And that’s how Ben had always hoped it would be for himself. What kind of man was he if his heart was this changeable?

A knock came on the bathroom door. Mouth full of toothpaste, he gurgled questioningly.

“Mal is out here. She wants a word. Should I tell her to come back in the morning?” Noah called.

Ben spat in the sink. For once, he didn’t feel up to seeing Mal. He washed his mouth out and sighed. “No, it’s okay Noah.”

He was already in his sleepwear and he was suddenly acutely aware of the tiny gold crowns patterned on the cotton. He didn’t want her to see that. He grabbed a bathrobe off the hook and put it on and tied the belt tight around his middle. There. Now he was merely…fluffy. He sighed again and walked from his bathroom and bedroom and out to the main room of his royal quarters.

Mal regarded his bathrobe with alarm and he shrugged in embarrassment. Behind her, Lonnie was giving him warning looks. His captain wanted her out of here and probably thought further entangling himself with Mal was a bad idea. It undoubtedly was.

“I can go if you’re busy,” she cringed.

He looked askance at her. “No? I was just getting ready for bed. Something going on?”

Lonnie gave up and closed the door and took up her post beside Noah. Mal was standing with her arms crossed, leaning into one hip. It was the stance she favored when she was feeling defensive.

“Nothing major. No disease. No famine. How the castle’s newest occupant settling in?”

He scrubbed his face. “Audrey? She’s doing great, considering.”

Mal looked to her side as if she could X-ray the wall and see beyond the bricks and plaster. “She’s staying next door right? That’s what Mira said.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, naturally,” she said with an odd chuckle, “Where else would you put your girlfriend. You two must be thrilled. Reunited after so long. It’s just like one of those sappy romance novels Evie likes to read.”

“I’m grateful she’s back.”

“Hmm-hmm,” she offered through a tight smile.

He waited in vain for her to speak. He stepped a little closer to her. “I understand it’s…awkward for you, suddenly having her here.”

Mal’s eyes widened. “Awkward? Why would it be awkward?”

Ben frowned. “With all the family history between you two? And with what Maleficent’s done to her in person…”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, don’t lose any sleep over it. It’s her problem. I don’t care.”

“Okay then. Uh,” he stepped closer, so Noah couldn’t overhear, and asked, “How’s Mira?”

A muscle in her face twitched and she didn’t seem to want to discuss it. At all. But she looked away and answered quietly, “She’s upset. She liked how things were with you and now that your proper princess is back it’s all gone goblin-shaped…”

“I told her everything!” Ben whisper-shouted, desperation gushing out at the thought of a displeased Mira. “I explained over and over why I have to do this. Mira is the one I love…doesn’t she know that?”

Mal bit her lip and looked down. His gaze was drawn to the sharp incisor pressing down on that plump bottom lip. It was…distracting. He felt calmed and unsteadied all at once.

“She knows. And she won’t forget it,” she said.

He looked up just as she did and he tried to not give away just where he’d been staring. Gods, the spot she had bit was a darker pink now.

“Are you going to tell the princess about us?”

Ben’s heartbeat staggered. “Us?”

“The VKs.”

“O-oh,” he said, fighting the heat rising to his face, “I imagine the Three Good Fairies will tell her before I get a chance to. I’d have liked to give Audrey all the facts and not…”

“Not the hacked version of events the fairies will brainwash her with?” she finished drily.

“You were right there with me when we rescued her. And you’ve worked miracles for the kingdom. She’ll come to see you for the hero you are.”

“Hmm-hmm.”

“She will.”

“Whatever. I didn’t come to talk about her.”

“Really?” he asked, with some surprise. She was the one who’d brought her up. 

“The war stops for no one, and I’ve been giving our next move a lot of thought and I’ve come up with something.”

He gestured for her to take a seat and they sat down where he and Lonnie had spoken about his feelings for Mira and Mal only hours before. He told himself to get a grip and turn his mind to business. It was like trying to lead a horse out of deep mud.

“I think we should begin sowing misinformation that Auradon is about to launch an attack on Winter’s Keep. Let a few magic ships be seen scouting the nearby waters. Get your guy Doug onto it; like he said, Maleficent’s minions still use electronics. A couple of stray emails or chatroom gossip could go a long way if the right person thought their mistress would be interested in hearing about it.”

“Why would we want her to think we’re going to attack her capital?”

“So General Shan Yu and his army won’t return to Camelot. She’ll pull them back to defend the capital and Camelot’s forces will remain halved. It will be as defenceless as it’s ever going to get.”

Ben scooted forward in his chair, excited. “The plan is to take back Camelot?”

“No. Maleficent won’t let us hold it. We’re going to assassinate the Evil Queen. Then run like the devil himself is chasing us.”

He didn’t hide his disappointment. “What good does it do to kill the High Warden if we can’t take back the region? I won’t kill for revenge's sake.”

“Ben, this isn’t any other villain we’re talking about. It’s the Evil Queen. She’s my mother’s only friend; she calls her ‘Queenie’ and her nickname is ‘Cheekbones’. That is the most affection I’ve ever witnessed from that woman. We want Maleficent to not know where to turn and make big mistakes. Believe me, nothing will turn her world upside down or make her doubt herself more than being disconnected from her best friend.”

He clenched his jaw. His hand inched forward, aching to reach over and take her own.

Ben had noticed that the rift between her and Evie had not been repaired. It hurt her. Deeply. He walked through the garden once or twice a day to check she wasn’t crying alone there again.

She realised she had failed to hide her pain and crossed her arms with a glare.

“Mal,” he urged softly, “You can tell me what happened between you and – “

“Don’t.”

He heard the ‘please’ she didn’t voice.

He leaned back. “There was no other region more bitterly fought for and lost than Camelot. It remains the hotspot of the war. After somehow getting past the blood-soaked frontline we’d be in a fortress city full of soldiers – “

Mal held up a finger. “– half full.”

“ – not to mention whatever black magic the Evil Queen’s cooked up. We practically strolled into Agrabah. This will be…difficult.”

“Does that mean you approve the mission?”

“I’m approving the misinformation campaign. It'll be good to at least keep Shan Yu at a distance.”

“But – “

Ben shook his head. “We can’t just parachute into Camelot tonight. I don’t know if the mission’s doable yet. Give me some time to talk to the council and look over our options.”

“All right,” she said reluctantly, “But don’t take too long. I know this is the right play.”

“Then we better be up for it.”

She raised her chin in that stubborn way of hers and he put on his best kingly mask, both pretending their focus and convictions were the same as when they’d started this enterprise together: as clear and invulnerable as a diamond. Uncrackable. A touchstone they couldn’t possibly be foolish enough to tamper with.

Chapter Text

Harry Hook put a deep scratch beside the older ones on Uma’s bedroom door and blew away the curled shavings. He hummed in satisfaction. His carving of a sheep was coming along nicely. A heavy bang came from the other side of the door and he opened it. He kicked aside the bound stack of papers Uma had thrown.

“When I said ‘you can’t just stroll in here’, I didn’t mean behave like a creeper from a lame campfire story. Knock, you idiot.”

Uma hadn’t bothered to look up from where she sat at her dressing table, reading a book. Her braids were gathered into a high bun and she wore a white satin top and a teal skirt so voluminous it was fit for a ball. Hook pressed the door closed with his back and scratched his head with the point of his hook. 

“A thousand apologies, lady Mira. I shall endeavour to properly proclaim my arrival at your boudoir.”

She spared the time to send him an unamused look and went back to reading.

“Uma, what are you doing?”

She lifted the book to show him the cover. He didn’t catch the title – it’d been hard enough paging through the dictionary to find those fancy-ass words – but there was a picture of a round table with a bunch of knights standing around it and looking full of themselves.

“Battle prep. This Camelot thing is going to be a big deal. And that place hasn’t had anything to do with mermaids or sea witches or pirates which is why I know next to nothing about it and why this book is incredibly boring.”

“No. I mean what are you doing?”

She did a double-take. He stared hard into her eyes and thrust a finger at the window. “There is a fleet of magic ships moored in the harbor that no other ships in the world can catch, manned by pirates ready for orders. Your orders. No one’s guarding the door. Why aren’t we going down there right now and sailing away?”

She grunted. “Look, get out if you can’t stop being ridiculous. I’ve got work to do.”

Disbelieving, he staggered back, hook to his heart. “I’m being ridiculous? Me? I’m the ridiculous one?”

“You know that’s not the plan, Harry.”

“It’s not Mal’s precious plan,” he stressed.

She clenched her jaw, annoyed. “She started this, yeah. So what? I’m the one who’s finishing it.”

“How?”

“Leave that to me.”

He took a challenging step towards her. “You think your boy-toy is going to win this for you? Wake up and smell the ogre stank Uma. He’s poncing around with his long-lost princess and you’re in here reading books.”

Glaring, she stood up and clenched her gold locket. “As long as I have this, Ben is mine. He would throw that bitch into the sea if I told him to.”

“Admit it. This was fucked from the start and now you’re just Mal’s little helper, going along with everything she wants. She says the word and you jump.”

“Oh,” Uma’s smirk was wide and her giggle vicious, “That is rich coming from you.”

He groaned and turned on his heel, stepping about the room. Here it comes. He rolled his neck and shoulders and swung his arms as if preparing to lift an elephantine weight.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten the thing you had with her,” Uma scorned.

“Aye, you remind me every twelve seconds.”

“It’s what you deserve for letting her get her claws into you, into us, you mutinous bastard – ”

“Heard it all before. You’re like a parrot on my shoulder squawking ‘Mal, Mal’. From everything ye say and do I think you are more into her than I ever was! So obsessed you’re not even looking out for yourself anymore.”

“How dare you speak to your captain this way!” Uma screamed, expression dark enough to precede murder.

“Where’s my captain? Where is she? I can’t see her. Only Mira,” he sneered.

She moved faster than he’d assumed possible in that skirt and came over and punched him in the jaw. His head snapped to the side and his teeth rattled. Ow. He massaged the spot with admiration. She stared up at him, icy and composed again. The quiet was no less dangerous than her thundering anger.

“Great punch,” he told her lightly, “Really, really swell. Doesn’t prove this isn’t all about a stupid rivalry from your goddamn childhood.”

Uma lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t have to tell you anything. Except that you are making me reconsider my choice of first mate,” And she turned her back on him, intent on walking away.

“Ya can’t blame me. It doesn’t look good. Everything you’ve ever said you wanted is down there in that harbor and you won’t go. Because of Mal.”

“Because…” she growled and drew her hands into fists. She rolled her head to the side and he saw how her chin trembled when she opened her mouth, wrestling with emotions as deep and tumultuous as the ocean, “Because I am going to win. Win all of it,” she turned and her eyes were deadly black, “Because I won’t be passed over again. By anyone. Ever. You hear me? Do you understand?” she slammed a fist on the table, “The whole world is gonna know my name!”

Her voice seemed to echo more than the size of the room could account for. It washed over him and he took a step back to give himself space to breathe. They stared at each other. With an effort, Uma settled back into flat indifference.

“Are you going to help me or not?” she asked as if she didn’t care about the answer.

Hook looked at her in vague surprise. “’Course I am. Captain.”

She gave a sharp nod. He went to leave but just as he touched the doorknob he turned back around to see Uma still watching him. He should leave. He shouldn’t push her further. But since when did he do anything by half measures?

“You never asked me why I…you know. With her,” he said.

“It makes no difference why.”

“I did it because she let me get close. Or pretended to. She didn’t make me walk the plank each time I wanted to talk to her, touch her, laugh with her. It was…different. I’d never have looked at her twice if not for that.”

For a few seconds, Uma didn’t appear to know what to say. She crossed her arms. “What, so you did it because you were lonely?” she lifted her chin, “Fuck off. We’re all loners.”

Half-smiling, Hook strolled to her and touched her bare neck, rubbing his thumb against her jaw. Her eyes got a little wider.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear, thickening his accent into a purr of words. “Yeah. But what I want…what I fantasize about all the time…is the perfect loner to be alone with.”

Hook drew her in and kissed her, breathed her in and moved his mouth against hers in desperate hunger. Uma bit him and he yelped. He fingered the cut on his bottom lip. She glared and he thought the punch heading his way would be even harder than the first. But she grabbed the back of his head and plunged back into the kiss. The heat doubled so fast then doubled again; Uma pulled at his hair like she wanted to tear it out, when their teeth hit he didn’t care, when their tongues touched his skin fevered. He caught her waist and held her tight, savoring the feel of her body pressed against him, relishing the pain of his cut lip because of its cause. A hundred cuts rubbed with salt couldn’t stop him kissing her.  

She pulled back first, of course, and looked at him. Hook swallowed, every muscle tensed and screaming to move and bring her back to him. There was a smudge of his blood on her lip and he lifted his hand to wipe it away, just so he could touch her again, but her shifting expression let him know he wouldn’t be allowed that.

Uma made to speak but he beat her to it. “I’m going to go before you can order me to.”

He didn’t try to hide his bitterness as he gave her a grin and a captain’s salute and she watched him go with unreadable eyes.

Hook opened the door and Gil fell hard at his feet. He’d been eavesdropping on the other side. Gil looked up slowly, guilt pouring off him. He must have guessed the violent nature of what was going through Hook’s mind because Gil jumped up and began stammering.

“I…I was just….Dizzy needs that Cinderella book and thinks she might’ve left it – look there it is!” he picked up the paper stack on the floor. He gave a wavering smile.

“Move or I will gut you like a frogfish,” Hook told him.

Gil threw himself out of the way and Hook stalked from the room.

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“Do you often listen to private conversations through my door?” Uma asked Gil. He was an easy target for her anger. And the best distraction she had from her bruised lips.

“No, no I don’t Cap – Uma – Mira,” Gil flinched, “Sorry. I heard you and Hook arguing and I was just wondering is all.”

Uma felt something sticky on her bottom lip. Blood. She sucked it clean. “Sometimes I wonder too.”

She sat on the edge of her bed while Gil fidgeted, unsure how much trouble he was in. She smoothed out her ridiculously poofy skirt and nodded to the book in his hands.

“Dizzy’s still making you run around like a slave huh?”

“I don’t mind. I like being helpful.”

She tilted her head. “Yes, I know. It’s why I took you on in the first place. But it’s more than that. You really seem to like the little mouse.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “I mean, growing up I had my brothers and I miss them a lot. I wish Gabe hadn’t been dared to eat all those poisonous snails. And that Gideon hadn’t keyed Cruella’s car. And that Gunner hadn’t tried to learn sword swallowing.”

“Not to mention Gavin getting drunk and locking himself in a coffin.”

“Right. Those guys were great. But it’s different with Dizzy, she’s like my little sister and she really needs me to look out for her, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” Uma said.

“Anywho,” Gil looked down at his shuffling feet. “What’s going on with you and Hook? Are you two…a thing?”

“He’s my first mate.”

“And I’m your second. So.”

“So?”

Gil opened his mouth but nothing came out. A vein in his thick neck throbbed as he strained to find the right words.

Uma smirked. “What, anything Hook gets you think you should get too? Is that how it works?”

She rested her arms on her bed and leaned back, stretching her body. “Could you really handle me Gil?”

Her grin widened as he blushed like a virtuous milk maid. Compared to the business with Hook, this was uncomplicated fun and she relished her control over Gil, how effortlessly she pulled his strings.

He cleared his throat. “I uh…I would do all right. Girls have told me that I know what I’m doing as long as I do what they tell me.”

She pursed her lips in consideration and Gil’s eyes lit up. She thought about Hook’s reaction if he found out she’d taken Gil to bed. His hurt. His anger. His jealousy. Oh yes. She’d like that.

Let him suffer; he can kiss her and then watch as she went off with someone else. Kiss her like a man about to die. Kiss her like nothing else existed but her, nothing mattered but them and their pleasure and pain. A chaotic, ungodly, positively impolite kiss.

“Uma?”

She blinked and looked at Gil. He was waiting for her answer, jittery with hope.

“Just go, Gil,” she said sourly, sitting up.

The hope on his dumb face didn’t change. “Go, as in?”

“As in go!”

He deflated and there was that kicked puppy look. Thoroughly pissed off now, she ignored his departure and went back to her Camelot book. And she knew exactly who was to blame when she kept reading the same sentence over and over, imagining she tasted blood.

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“It’s starting to rain,” Evie commented from her bed.

Her back to her, Mal grunted in response. Night had fallen and droplets were indeed skittering down the windows, but if Evie thought acknowledging it would somehow disperse a little of the tension in room, she was wrong.

Evie was talking these days, trying to draw her into conversation, but none of it was what Mal wanted to hear. Needed to hear. Mal preferred it when they were not speaking unless necessary.

Switching her pencil for a 5B strewn on her dressing table, she drew her knees up and rested her heels on the edge of her chair and balanced the sketch pad on her thighs. She shaded in the background, the shadows suggesting a looming castle behind the figure standing tall and proud on treacherous rocks. The man was drawn with full plate armor, a windblown cape and a sword resting in his grip. He stared at an unseen horizon and on his face was such nobility that the crown on his head was superfluous.

She heard Evie come up behind her and her shoulders tensed as Evie leaned over.

“You’ve captured King Ben perfectly,” Evie said.

Mal looked twice at her artwork, alarmed. “That’s not Ben. It’s King Arthur.”

“But he’s wearing the beast crown?”

“Yes, well, I don’t know what the ancient crown of Camelot looked like, do I? See, that’s Excalibur. It’s not Ben.”

“Okay, okay. My mistake.”

Evie retreated and Mal glared at her drawing. It was so obviously not Ben. She decided to blacken the hair and age the face with more severe lines.

Her pencil was working furiously when Evie spoke again. “It’s been years since you’ve drawn anything.”

Mal shrugged a little. “I hadn’t the time.”

A pause. “Liar.”

Mal scoffed hard. “So along with your new sunny outlook you’re now an advocate for truth, huh?”

There was injured silence behind her. She could’ve let it drop right then but she threw a disgusted look over her shoulder to where Evie nestled in her bed pillows. “The truth would result in our hasty execution by your beloved Auradonians. I suggest you reel in your better impulses.”

Evie took a deep breath. “I was only saying, I think it’s great you’re sketching again.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Wonderful.”

Mal went back to the pad. Her hand was stiff as a crab claw now and the pencil lines became too harsh. It didn’t look like Ben or King Arthur anymore; it was a brooding figure of doom. The picture was ruined.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, holding in growls. Then turned in her chair to face Evie.

“I hope your new philosophy on life won’t threaten the Camelot mission. I need to know you’re up to assassinating the Evil Queen.”

Evie’s expression changed to stone. “Thanks for your concern. But I haven’t forgotten what that woman’s done. I was a currency to be spent however she pleased, then she debased and threw me away. She deserves what’s coming for her. And it’s like you’ve always said: we’ve never needed our parents. You, me and Jay and Carlos, that’s our family. The only real one we have known and the only one we need. Right?”

Mal looked away. “Yeah.”

“You can still count on me, Em,” Evie said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Mal turned the page to a fresh one. She was quickly filling up the pad. All the graphite and charcoal in the castle would be used up at this rate. What was dead had been resurrected and burned with life and she felt the need to draw, to paint, to create. And in the middle of all these problems and complications and painful discoveries too. She didn’t understand why. Maybe deep down she desired solace and was relying on this old habit. How sentimental.

Ugly thoughts made her blind to what she was sketching until most of a fierce black dragon was complete. There was no snarling maw breathing fire, just the flick of a long forked tongue tasting the air beneath cold reptilian eyes. Mal got the eraser and very deliberately wiped away every line. The rain fell harder, spitting hatefully and pounding at the windows as if threatening to come inside.

Chapter Text

Rain was a dreaded nemesis in the trenches, Ben could tell. The bottom of the trenches had turned to churned mud and they sloshed through, chilled to the bone. Sunlight shone weakly through the stripped tree trunks lying across the top of the trenches and Ben had the impression of moving under the ribs and inside the veins of a giant. They passed men and women shoveling mud and hauling buckets of water. They knew who Ben was, knew his company were his allies, but there was no welcome in their faces. It was the armor. They had donned the enemy’s signature armor and it was head to toe black steel plating with distinctly reptilian spikes, black chainmail and visored helmets that left only a slit for the eyes. It was heavy and cumbersome but with it a soldier could break through a formation and not get a scratch. Little wonder the sight of such armor in their trenches was disturbing to the Auradonians here.

Carlos fell and nearly disappeared into the mud. Aziz hauled him back up to his feet.

“Gah! This cursed armor was not meant for humans,” Carlos spluttered.

“In Noah’s case I think that’s actually true,” Evie said, “If that’s not ogre stink, I’ll eat my helmet.”

“This was the only size we had that fitted me,” Noah said, offended.

Seven goblins perched on the spikes of Noah’s armor and were being carried around like finches on a rhino’s back. The goblin Blibtogs patted Noah’s shoulder. “You have the musk of a healthy male ogre in his prime. No shame in that.”

At the head of the line Major Cushenberry glanced back. “Keep moving troopers. A still soldier is a dead soldier.”

“Come on guys,” Ben urged and they grumbled but resumed their slow squelching walk.

Then, somewhere, a trumpet blared. Other trumpets joined in the warning wail and Major Cushenberry hurled himself against the trench wall and under the shadow of a trunk. “Get back!”

Ben, the VKs and the royal guard crashed into each other and slipped in the mud and VKs spat swears as they all rushed to take shelter and Cushenberry shushed them furiously. Ben and Chad were huddled together and, now protected from the rain somewhat, raised their visors to see better. Cushenberry peeked up and searched the sky.

Down along the trench Ben saw something block the sunlight. Something huge. The shadow swept toward them and through the trunks above Ben glimpsed raptor claws, huge gray wings and a cruel beak. The creature moved on, searching the trenches for easy pickings; an unwary soldier poking his head out at the wrong moment would find it plucked like a berry.

“Is it…?” Mal whispered.

“Strix,” Cushenberry confirmed grimly. “Hopefully just one. Those blasted witches only launch attacks in packs.”

“What’s a strix?” Gil asked.

“Didn’t you read the mission brief?” Lonnie hissed.

“Uh…”

“Shhhhhh!”

Ben listened to the rumbling thunder as they waited for danger to pass or grow too bold. Mira adjusted her sword belt. The sight of such a simple thing was like a shot of whisky to his heart, warming him all over. Ben gave her a reassuring smile which she returned. The goblins picked their noses, bored.

A trumpet gave a double toot.

“We’re clear,” Cushenberry said and resumed leading.

The trench system was extensive and complex, housing this army division’s barracks, hospital, supplies and latrines, all of it below the topsoil. Ben was caught between pride at his people’s resourcefulness and sadness at their living in this muck, severed from the surface world. This was no way to live.

The major brought them to the opening of a tunnel and the soldiers who had cleared the huge blockage of rocks and boards stood warily at their approach. Cushenberry reached into a crate and passed electric torches around to Ben and the others. Mal waved off hers.

“Had some men check the way as far as we dared. The tunnel’s held up well but I can’t guarantee parts of it haven’t caved-in further down. But if not, then you’ll have access to over two miles of tunnels. An insane maze of tunnels.”

“We’ve memorized the maps you provided. Don’t worry, Major, we’ll find our way through,” Ben said.

Cushenberry rested his hand on his sword and eyed the opening with obviously mixed feelings. “We used to do good work in those tunnels. “

“You should be proud. What you and your platoon accomplished was extraordinary.”

The major’s lips quirked. “We’d dig right under a commander’s tent and bam! Blow it into the sky. We could do reconnaissance, spoil supplies, and once, we even sucked their barracks into a sink hole.”

Chad laughed. The sound was so unexpected and rare that Ben had to stop himself from gawking.

“I would’ve loved to have seen that,” Chad said.

“In my weaker moments I cheer myself by imagining the look on their faces when the ground fell out from under them, “ Cushenberry agreed. Then he sighed, “But the Evil Queen is not a lazy tyrant. We build a defensive camp on the border and she sends her witches down to pick us off. We dig and hide and make the best of it and she flushes us out of the tunnels forever. There’s no winning against that woman.”

“Today we’ll end the Evil Queen’s reign of terror. You have my word,” Ben said.

The major looked Ben’s company over. A goblin hanging off Noah’s shoulder plate gave a little wave.

“Well, I suppose you know what you’re doing sire,” he said uncertainly.

Ben turned on his torch, gave a respectful nod to the watching soldiers and the major and strode into the maw of the tunnel.

“Good luck against the trolls,” Cushenberry called after him.

“Trolls?” Gil asked with awe.

“Seriously dude, at least pay attention in the meetings,” Jay said.

When they were deep enough in, Mal revealed The Wand and whispered a spell and a gentle glow surrounded the tip for her to see by. She nodded at Ben and he continued leading the way, one hand holding his torch and the other resting on his sword. The air quickly became heavy and stale and they raised their visors to breathe easier. At least the ground was dry.  

A goblin gave a sigh. “It’s so cold and dark and creepy in here. Isn’t it great?”

Another goblin sounded teary. “It’s like the goblin hives you hear about in stories.”

“Keep it together worms,” Captain Blibtogs scolded, “This is business, not pleasure.”

“He’s right. Today, you’re the most important part of this gang. So shut up and stay sharp,” Mal commanded.

Ben glanced back to see Blibtogs swinging on Noah’s armor in glee. “Oh! You can count on me Queen Mal!”

Mal glared.

Blibtogs slapped his mouth and his ears drooped.

Hook snickered.

The tunnel began branching into different passages and Ben took the straightest course to Camelot Castle. They came to a section where the ceiling had collapsed and a swell of soft dirt blocked most of the passage.

Mal flourished The Wand and spoke:

I don’t need this stress

Straighten out this mess

The mound fell backward and smoothed itself out like dough being rolled by a giant invisible rolling pin and the cloud of grime that went up made them all cough and shield their faces.

“Way to go Mal. I’ll blind myself if I try and wipe my eyes with these things,” Mira brandished her gauntlets.

“Couldn’t you have summoned an army of mole rats to take care of it?” Evie asked when she had finished coughing.

“No backseat spelling,” Mal said.

Onward and the tunnel narrowed and in the cramped space their spiky armor drove all of them half mad. This distraction, as well as Ben being too focused on looking for any hint of troll nearly caused the mission’s failure when it had barely begun.

Without knowing it, he’d passed through the magic barrier and only by chance did he look back to check on the others progress and see an odd shimmer in his torchlight.

“Stop!” his shout echoed.

The others froze.

His heart pounded at how close Mal and The Wand were to the barrier. The magic was indifferent to earth and solid rock and a certain shimmer went from the ceiling down into the floor and beyond to form a perfect circle “protecting” Camelot from light magic. The torches ran over the barrier and the others noticed it. Mal took a step back.

“I’m sorry. That was stupid of me,” Ben said.

“No harm done,” Mal said and took a breath. Ben’s insides clenched. She waved the wand.

My magic is darkest, yours lightest

This doesn’t matter in the slightest

Unless wand in hand is in disguise

You will be found by evil eyes

So hide in my shadows but a moment

Dim your shine with this bestowment

Then back to normal double quick

After this underhanded fairy trick

This was the third time she’d done this spell and Mal still doubled over with shock and pain. She was shaking in her armor as she shed inky blackness. The shadows oozed out of the chainmail and steel plates and slinked to The Wand. Now came the part Ben hated most. Mal straightened. The expression in her eyes was retreating like the shrinking inner light of the dying. She walked forward and with each step she looked less and less like the Mal he knew. Blank as a zombie, she crossed the barrier and he was there to support her, their armor clanking together as he looped an arm around her waist.

“Mal…” he breathed.

The shadows on the wand dissipated. She gasped and caught his arm and he could see and feel her soul flare up again.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” she shook her head to clear it.

“You sure?”

She suddenly jerked away from him and pulled her visor down. “Of course! Geez.”

“Hopefully, with my…with the Evil Queen gone, this will be the last region we need to sneak into and you’ll never have to do that again,” Evie said.

The rest crossed the barrier with much less drama.

“We’re here,” Chad whispered. “We’re in Camelot.”

Ben clapped him on the shoulder.

Chad clenched his jaw. “Let’s get this done.”

They went on, taking a right, then half-crawling through a tight passage and then Mal used The Wand for another cave-in. They were in a tunnel which was wide enough for five of them to stand side by side when Noah called for their attention.

Hook leaned over the spot where Noah pointed. “Yep. That is specially fine dirt. Definitely the best dirt we’ve seen so far.”

Blibtogs patted Noah’s helmet appreciatively. “Well spotted for a human. This furrow was made by troll tusks. In fact, look around. A troll did all of this.”

“What?” Ben startled. “No. We’re on the path the major plotted.”

“Don’t get smart with me, mister. A goblin knows all things trollish. A troll either widened your major’s tunnel or we’re standing in a troll-made hole.”

Lonnie groaned. “The real tunnel could’ve collapsed and we might’ve walked right passed it.”

“Affirmative. The trolls have had ages to restructure this place,” Blibtogs said. “When they’re not killing machines they’re instincts drive them to dig new territory and plough through old ones.”

“Great!” Chad threw up his hands, “We’re lost!”

“We don’t know that,” Aziz said.

“Godammit! Camelot needs us and we’re stumbling around in the dark like fools! The Knights of the Round Table must be spinning in their graves.”

“Chad would you please calm down?”

“Should we retrace our steps?” Carlos suggested. “I really don’t want to run into a troll if we don’t have to. Oh, or get lost in a labyrinth and starve to death.”

“According to the map, up ahead there should be a choice of three different tunnels. If we see them then we know we’re in the right place. If we don’t, then we go back,” Ben said.

He should’ve known they’d run into the troll first.

It was sitting by the wall as casually as a busker on break until Ben skidded to a stop. The troll turned his head and snuffled. The bristles on his snout quivered. He stood.

“Holy…” Gil mumbled.

Carlos might’ve whimpered.

Hunched backed as he was, the troll was seven feet of pure muscle covered in patches of bristly hair. He took a step forward and his ape-like arms dragged on the ground and sported wicked claws. Along with the tusks jutting out of his lower jaw the troll had a high crest of solid bone above his eyes like a demented crown. He was perfectly built for carving into earth. And people.

The troll’s small eyes rolled in its head at the smell of so much meat. He snuffled again and lumbered forward and Ben drew his sword, alarmed at how fast the monster moved.

“Wait, wait,” Blibtogs and the goblins jumped off Noah and went around Ben, “Leave this to the professionals.”

The troll paused. Prey usually ran away from him, not wandered closer, and such little prey as these tubby little morsels? Ben could practically see its apex predator brain trying to make sense of it. The troll blew out his slitted nostrils and observed how the goblins formed a circle around him. He rumbled, and pawed the ground and rolled his shoulders in a great show of strength.

Wearing fierce looks of concentration, the goblins planted their feet, took a huge breath and held it and their throats suddenly bulged out like an inflated balloon. A horrible, grating, whirring sound filled the tunnel as the membrane of their throat sacs vibrated. The troll cocked its head and listened.

“Um. What are they doing?” Gil asked.

“What’s it look like dummy?” Jay griped.

“Uhhhh it looks like the goblins have swallowed bagpipes and the troll is a real fan of that lost art?”

Hook caught Gil’s armor and pulled him forward. “We can’t wait around for you to get a clue mate.”

Ben trusted Mal and her knowledge of goblins – if she said her goblins could do this then he believed her even if his people had never heard of such a thing – but he couldn’t bring himself to put his sword away as he edged around the troll.

The troll was stock still, his eyes fixed on nothing, stunned or lulled or mystified by the noise the goblins created. When Ben and the others were far enough away, the goblins minced to them with exaggerated slowness, still calling. At their side again, the goblins’ throats deflated to normal and Blibtogs had never looked so pleased with himself.

They didn’t run – the troll would remain sedated for ten minutes or so – but no one objected to a quick walk down the tunnel. To Ben’s immense relief, they came across the three openings, and he led them down the tunnel to the right.

“Wait, are you saying we’re not fighting trolls?” Gil asked, disappointed, “Not even one? But just imagine a head like that on your wall!”

“I don’t want to imagine such a thing, thank you,” Evie said primly.

“Come on!” Gil whined, “It would be a great souvenir for Dizzy.”

“Oh well, in that case: under absolutely no circumstances. I forbid it.”

“But if there’s two trolls, the goblins can’t pull off that trick on two of them, can they?” Gil asked hopefully.

“Yes, they can,” Mal answered him. “Trolls and goblins have been successfully co-existing for centuries.”

“Because of the terrible singing?” Gil asked.

“Terrible! Terrible? My grandsire Toeshank was a legend in the tunnels and he personally tutored me in troll wrangling,” a goblin shook his fist at Gil from a top Noah.

“Actually, Flimsulk, you were a little pitchy,” another goblin said.

Flimsulk puffed himself up. “Oh yeah? Like your call could soothe a slug.”

Mal addressed Gil, clearly hoping to head off a squabble among her soldiers. “Goblins have cleverly evolved to protect themselves from trolls. Humans have three bones in their eardrum but trolls have a fourth that, when vibrated by a particular sound, stimulates the fluids in the cochlea to send a special signal to the brain. The trolls enter a trance, the goblins are free to pass by, and the trolls are left to roam and snack on all the other predators of the goblins. A perfect symbiotic relationship.”

“Mal knows all about those kinds of relationships,” Evie chipped in.

Ben glanced over to see Mal’s sour look.

“I suppose Evie would prefer a slaughter.”

“Mal doesn’t want to acknowledge other possibilities.”

“Evie is naïve if she believes there are other possibilities.”

“Carlos would like to keep our voices down in troll infested zones,” said Carlos.

Ben stopped. The tunnel branched off sharply to the left and to the right. “Oh no. This wasn’t on the map.”

He ran his hands along the wall. It was solid rock as far he could tell, with nothing on the other side. He stepped back and considered, seeing the map in his head. “We’re almost to the city. We’ll have to take a chance and just pick one.”

“How do we decide?” Lonnie asked.

“This way!” Gil dashed to the left. Hook caught him before he could get far.

“That settles it,” Mira said, and they all took the other tunnel.

The second troll they found was just as intimidating as the first. No, more so, because of the piles of clean bones in its lair. The troll was gnawing idly on a pelvis when its head snapped up at their approach. This troll didn’t waste time on ceremony, he dropped the bone, raised his tusks, and barreled toward them with murder in his eyes.

The troll stumbled back at the blast of sound that greeted him, the goblins’ throat sacs working double time. The goblins tip toed until they surrounded the troll. All the muscles of the troll relaxed.

The chamber was large enough that Ben didn’t have to step on any of the bones which he was grateful for. After the war he’d exterminate the trolls somehow and send a team to retrieve all the bones in the tunnels for proper burial. It was the least he could do.

A pile shivered and knucklebones rolled down to clatter on the floor. Ben and the others stopped and every torchlight swung to the pile. Ben unsheathed his sword.

A…a thing, tumbled out of the bones. Its bleary eyes blinked at the light and chirped quizzically. Covered head to foot in brown fuzz and the size of its claws disproportionately large, it looked like a sort of oversized sloth.

“Man, what is that?” Jay asked.

“The ugliest creature I’ve ever seen,” Aziz declared.

“Seconded,” Lonnie said.

“Third…ded,” Chad added awkwardly.

“I think it’s a troll baby,” Mal said, amazed.

“Trolls have babies?” Evie asked, "I imagined them just crawling out of hell full-grown."

“I don’t think it’s dangerous,” Ben said, lowering his sword. While the adults radiated bloodlust this little creature had an undeniable aura of innocence. It simply stared and clacked its claws together, a little unsure.

“It’s kinda cute,” Gil strode up to it and while the rest of them stood by, aghast, he heaved the troll baby up into his arms, “Now this is the ultimate souvenir, huh? Dizzy will be the first Isle kid who has a pet troll!”

“Gil! Put that thing down!” Mira ordered.

“Look, I think it likes me,” Gil said.

Something told Ben to check on the goblins. They were still gurgling their dreadful call around the troll but their panicked, bulging eyes were focused on the troll baby.

“Gil, drop it now!” Ben pleaded.

The baby screamed.

Nature’s first commandment was for a species to exhaust and starve and bloody themselves for their young. The goblins’ call was no match for it. Maternal instinct flooded the troll’s brain and overrode all else and the troll mother shook herself and roared. Ben’s ears rang and he gasped at the pain.

His hearing muted, he was in a scene worthy of the Locksley After Dark Filmfest: goblins scrambling out of the way as the troll, mad with fury, stampeded past Ben and slammed its head into a wall. The entire tunnel shook. The lights from their torches swung about wildly and Ben was deaf and blind for a terrifying few seconds.

Ben fumbled with his torch and his sword.

The troll was regarding them with a more critical eye. The baby scuttled into another bone pile to hide. Sniffing, the troll picked out the biggest threat to her and her young. The one who smelled like an ogre.

The troll stampeded to Noah, flinging her head and readying her tusks to scissor through flesh. Noah threw himself out of the way and scattered bones and the troll ploughed into the wall again. Earth fell thick from the ceiling and Ben thought they were about to be buried alive.

The troll was ready to charge again before Noah was able to get up. She panted with anticipation, hot breath visible in the air.

With a yell Ben could barely hear, Chad charged and Gil was not far behind him. Ben knew it wouldn’t work – couldn’t work. They swiped at the troll’s arms and the blades were as effective as butter knives against marble. The troll swept her claws and Ben cried out in dismay as Chad and Gil were thrown back and crashed into the wall.

The troll made another run at Noah.

Mal thrust The Wand out at the troll and hollered:

Sand, dud

Quick mud!

The troll’s feet were on solid ground one second and sinking in liquid the next. Baffled, she warbled at finding herself in a mud pit. Then bellowed as she floundered and the mud sucked her in. She reached over and clawed dry earth and Ben’s heart hammered. But her two-ton weight was dragging her down fast and she couldn’t pull herself out. The troll glared with red-hot hate as the mud went up to her neck. Then covered her head. The mud pit bubbled and became still.

Mal put her head between her legs. “That was wild.”

“That’s one word for it,” Mira snapped and she and Ben rushed over to Chad and Gil.

They were alive, their armor had saved them from being disemboweled. The landing had hurt them more than anything and they groaned and hobbled as they were pulled to their feet.

“Brave man,” Lonnie commended Chad.

"I'll say," Evie purred. 

“Still want a pet troll?” Hook sniggered.

Gil was too breathless to reply.

“Can we please, please get out of here?” Carlos begged.

Jay punched his shoulder plate. “Yeah, cause fighting an insanely powerful sorceress is gonna be a cinch.”

“Mistress,” Blibtogs was pawing at Mal. “Where did you send the troll? Into space? Into an ocean trench?”

“What?” Mal shook him off, “Nowhere, Blibtogs. It’s just mud. I drowned it.”

Blibtogs opened his mouth.

Earth exploded beneath Mal and flung her and Blibtogs into the air like dolls. Dirt flying, the troll appeared in a clawing frenzy and Ben looked on in horror as Mal crashed back to the ground, right at the troll’s feet, and didn’t move.

Chapter Text

A sense of unreality made Ben stand there like a simpleton and stare at where Mal lay. The Wand was in the palm of her limp hand. Her face was turned away and her armor concealed the extent of her injuries. She wasn’t moving. Not at all. Even as the troll bent down and sniffed her, Ben felt disconnected from his own body and strangely apart from this nightmare. He heard Evie screaming from a distance.

Then the troll huffed and stepped over Mal, intent on eliminating the remaining threats in her nest. And it was the troll’s total disregard for the life at her feet, this act of complete dismissal that was no less callous from coming from something less than human, that made Ben erupt.

Rage knocked him forwards and he landed on his hands and knees and moaned. His muscles were on fire, his bones groaned and cracked and his vision went black with the pain. But he held onto his anger through it all and it filled him up, made him grow until he felt like a snail crammed into a shell much too small for him. He flung off his helmet with hairy hands to relieve the pressure and felt his horns spread. Just when he thought he was going to explode into a thousand pieces his armor burst off him and he growled in pleasure. He shook his new body, shrugging off the last vestiges of his humanity.

The Beast looked through a world tinted yellow; no darkness was deep enough which his keen eyesight couldn’t penetrate. He saw clearly the shock and horror on the humans’ faces – he could even smell it, a sharp acrid scent that excited him - as they backed away from troll and beast. Not humans, he reminded himself, friends. And they weren’t what The Beast was here for.

The troll’s hide shivered with adrenaline as she recognised the newest and greatest threat and glared at The Beast. With a dark rumble, she slashed the ground and raised her bony crest in challenge. Fury renewed, The Beast roared and rushed for her on all fours in a blur of speed. She met him half way, rearing up to headbutt him and smash his skull. He dodged and she hit nothing but air and he slashed her side with his claws. But didn’t even nick the skin. He snarled.

The troll crashed into his side and he slid backwards. Standing on his hindlegs, he fended off her slicing claws with his own but her reach was longer and she kept cutting his arms and shoulders. Blood trickled down his fur as their feet pounded the scattered bones on the floor into powder. A goblin opened his eyes, sat up, rubbed his sore head and yelped to find two monsters fighting beside him and he scrambled away.

The Beast’s awareness of the others was minimal. Nearly all his focus and energy was given to his enemy. The overwhelming desire to kill was a sweet current in his blood. The cavern trembled with his roar and he loved it. 

Yet, when the troll pushed him into Mal’s path, his eyes flicked over and, animalistic though it was, The Beast’s heart lurched at the sight of that fragile body on the ground. She still was not moving. Was she dead?

No. No she couldn’t be. The Beast wouldn’t allow it.

He attacked and the troll met his every blow with indifference. Nothing could pierce that steely hide. He would bleed out before he could make a dent. A snort from the troll said she knew it too. He retreated and backed up onto all fours, crouching low. The troll’s nostril’s flared in triumph and she reared to the top of her considerable height and dropped down to crush him. The Beast sprang up and latched onto her back and threw his arms around her crest. The troll stopped and rumbled, quizzical.

The Beast began to twist the troll’s head to the left. The troll snorted and threw her head but he didn’t let up, the muscles in his arms bulged as her head rotated an inch further. Alarmed now, the troll instinctively headbutted the wall. She was off-centre and only succeeded in bruising his arm and shaking more dirt from the ceiling. She roared and bucked wildly but his powerful hindlegs kept him secured on her back and she failed to loosen his headlock. Going crazy with desperation, she threw herself around the tunnel and took them dangerously close Mal. The Beast gnashed his teeth and pulled left with all his strength.

His ears pricked at the great crack of the troll’s neck. Her roar became a gurgle and she dropped like a stone. Then there was silence.

The Beast eased off his kill and shook his mane in satisfaction. He stepped over the troll and went to Mal. He heard her labored breathing and her rapid heartbeat against broken ribs. Her visor had fallen down and with the point of one razor sharp claw he lifted it up to see her face. Her eyes were closed, and the delicate and beautiful spread of her purple eyelashes could be seen in fine detail now that he was not Ben. This not-quite-human looked so small and weak. And he would spill oceans of blood for her.

“Ben…”

He looked up and growled immediately at the eyes on him and Mal, and the cautious steps towards them. Goblins cowered by the wall, looking back and forth from him to the dead troll.

“Ben, don’t hurt her. Please. We’re your friends.”

It was Lonnie. His bristling fur fell flat again. Inside, Ben urged him to recognize Lonnie was speaking truth.

“Maaal…” a deep, gravely voice spoke and The Beast was startled to realize it was his own.

The others froze. Lonnie swallowed and smiled tremulously. “That’s right. Mal.”

“Will you let us help her?” Evie asked, face white with fright.

Begrudgingly, The Beast backed up. He kept a watchful gaze on Lonnie, Evie, Carlos and Jay as they kneeled before Mal. The goblins huddled together and looked on anxiously but gave The Beast a wide berth.

Lonnie picked up The Wand. “Who should…?”

Evie snatched it from her. “I will.”

She pointed The Wand directly at Mal’s head, spoke a spell of healing, then moved down to her chest and legs and repeated it. Evie looked ill when she finally lowered The Wand. She picked up Mal’s hand and squeezed it.

The Beast, impatient, nudged Jay away and peered into Mal’s face, willing her to wake up…

                                                                                                               33333333333333333333

…Mal licked her lips, thinking she was waking on her couch at her lair on the Isle, having spent the night drinking Evie’s alcoholic disasters. It would account for the bitter taste in her mouth and her foggy head and why her vision was mostly dark with spots of light. She blinked and was thinking that her clothes were more uncomfortable than usual when torchlight landed on the beastly face above her. The last cobwebs of unconsciousness were swept away and she remembered where she was and what had happened.

Happy lights danced in the gold eyes fixed on her and a pulled lip and show of teeth was probably a grin.

“Hello there, big guy,” Mal said softly, “Have you been having fun?”

“Oh, we’ve been having a riot,” Evie’s laugh had a note of hysteria.

“You stopped it from being a howler by being sucker-punched by a troll though,” Jay added.

“I’m selfish like that,” Mal sat up gingerly with Carlos’s help and was surprised to find she wasn’t in any pain. She saw The Wand in Evie’s hand.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, looking Evie’s face over.

Evie shook her head. “How am I feeling? Gods’ sake.”

She took Mal’s hand and pulled her to her feet and shoved The Wand back at her.

Mal saw the troll lying nearby, its head at an impossible angle and its tongue lolling out of its mouth. The red eyes were blank with death. Woah. How much force would it take to break that neck?

“Are you sure you’re okay Mal?” Uma asked with faux concern, “You being spat up twenty feet in the air like a human spit ball won’t be something I soon forget.”

“I’m fine, thank you, Mira,” she smiled back at her toothily.

The Beast let out a low growl at the two of them, and Uma and Mal took an instinctive step back and looked at him.

“Um. He is on our side, right?” Mal whispered to Evie.

Lonnie stepped forward. “Your Majesty, can you say something and let us know you’re still in there?”

The Beast appeared to think on this request. He opened his maw and an inhuman voice pushed its way out between those terrifying teeth. “Beast. Help…You.”

Mal shivered. That was quite a voice.

“We don’t want your help!” Chad blustered, badly hiding his fear with anger, “We want our king back. Bring him back now.”

“Uh, why?” Hook snorted, “I say we make the swap permanent. The big brute has done more for us in five minutes than the tag-along king has on any mission.”

“Shove your hook where the sun don’t shine, you git,” Noah told him.

Hook pointed it in Noah’s direction with a manic grin. “If you insist, but I warn you, it’ll hurt.”

“Keep it together guys. Ben or beast, it doesn’t matter right now. We need to get out of these tunnels,” Mal stressed.

“Gil!” Uma snapped out, “Haven’t you learned your lesson?”

Gods. Gil was standing on top of the dead troll. “Oh come on. This is so cool!”

“For the rest of the day, you don’t touch anything except your own sword or I’ll tie your hands and legs and you can hop back to Auradon City. Got it?”

Wearing his kicked puppy look, Gil got off the troll.  As soon as he did, the baby troll crawled out from the dark and it nudged its mother with the bridge of its nose and warbled.

“I don’t feel right about this,” Aziz said, looking with pity at the little creature.

“We can’t bring it with us. It’s too dangerous,” Lonnie said.

“And it belongs down here Aziz, not up top,” Noah added.

“Fear not, the other troll dams will take care of it,” Blibtogs said cheerfully.

“Oh good,” Aziz said.

“Trolls cannibalise orphans. Waste not, want not.”

Aziz’s expression fell and he threw a desperate look to Lonnie, who pretended not to see.

“Nature,” The Beast growled, “Not bad. Not good. Just is.”

“Just sucks, you mean,” Carlos said, not looking happy either.

Mal glanced sideways at The Beast as he walked beside her, so tall she had to crane her neck to see his face. Dr Facilier forced The Beast’s appearance the first time and this time it was his choice to come forth and that’s probably why he was so in control now. But he wasn’t tame and he wasn’t Ben; The Beast looked straight ahead, not appearing to feel anything as they left the sad warbling of the small troll behind.

According to the major’s maps, his soldiers hadn’t managed to breach the inner castle itself but did reach incredibly far into Camelot’s citadel. After much debate back in Audadon City, Mal had agreed the best place to emerge was through the hole into a storeroom which under the Evil Queen’s reign had been converted into a casual prison cell. Slaves, soldiers and minions alike were thrown in there for a stint of isolation and light torture. The plan was to subdue any prisoners they found and walk out and blend in with the army.

“The plan is completely buggered, isn’t it?” Hook threw out there.

Mal couldn’t refute it. They were in tunnels that bore no resemblance to the major’s maps, the trolls had totally restructured the area. Chad was fuming and barely being held in check by Aziz. Mal put her hands on her hips and chewed her lip as they stood in the darkness, lost.

“What do we do now?” Carlos asked.

“We know we’re in the citadel,” Uma said. “We’re in. And since we have no way of getting where we were meant to go, let’s just get out.”

Mal turned on her with a scowl. “We pop up there and hope for the best? Really?”

“Pretty much. Got a better idea?”

Mal stomped off in a random direction and The Beast easily kept up with her. She faced a wall and pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling distinctly sorry for herself.

“Kill enemies. Kill many. Mal safe,” The Beast said, a promise in his shining eyes.

She patted his furry arm. “Thanks big guy. But we’re trying to be inconspicuous and a rampaging beast might draw attention to us. Speaking of, why don’t you change back to your shorter, less hairy counterpart now. It would really help us out.”

The Beast’s lip pulled sideways in what might’ve been a grimace. “Yes.”

His body went motionless as he concentrated. Mal waited. He waited.

“What’s the hold up?” she asked.

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“No Ben. Need time.”

She slapped her forehead. Great. Just great.

Defeated, she went back to the others. “New plan. We pick a spot, dig our way out, and hope for the best.”

Uma gave her a thumbs up and a slight smirk.

“Also, The Beast needs more time before he can bring Ben back, probably more time than we can give him. So we’ll have to send him back with the goblins.”

For the Auradonians, her suggestion was as absurd as if she’d told them to strip down and form a conga line. They all shouted at once and she caught many variations of “Are you insane?” and “We are not leaving him alone”. Mal’s request for quiet was drowned out. She tapped The Wand against her palm furiously and it crackled with light. “Hey! There’s an evil army ten feet above us, let’s not give them a reason to pick up a shovel and start digging.”

“We’re the royal guard,” Lonnie said stiffly in a lower voice. “Our foremost duty is to protect the king. Where he goes, we go.”

“You can’t go. This is the Evil Queen we’re talking about. We need the numbers.”

Lonnie raised her chin and shrugged defiantly. “Then we abort.”

Behind her Chad hung his head but he didn’t disagree.

“The king will be fine. Look at him!” Mal gestured wildly to The Beast, “You’re king is wrapped up in six hundred pounds of muscle! He doesn’t need you but we do.”

“I’m sorry Mal,” Lonnie said.

“Ben wants. You go,” The Beast said.

They all looked at him.

Chad scoffed. “And are we supposed to trust the word of this thing?”

The gold in The Beast’s eyes sparked dangerously. “Yes.”

Mal leapt onto this shred of hope and spoke in earnest. “He’s a part of Ben. And he saved our lives back there. You respected the old king and his…beastly past. Do you dare dismiss this aspect of the man you’re sworn to obey?”

Lonnie frowned. The others looked at each other uneasily. She stepped closer to The Beast and peered up into his face and searched it.

“I need to know that he’s really in there. That he’s not buried too far down to hear me. Prove that to me, beast. Please,” she spoke solemnly.

His ears flicked forward. Not breaking her gaze, he rumbled: “Unkingly. But listen. Always.”

Mal had no idea what that meant. But Lonnie smiled and stepped back, satisfied.

“Captain Blibtogs, I’m transferring my king to your guardianship. I trust you can handle it,” Lonnie said.

The goblin puffed up with importance. “Yes, ma’am.”

They chose a narrow tunnel that arced up toward the surface; it was as good a choice as any. Mal performed a cleaning spell on them all, polishing up their armor so it didn’t look like they’d just been wrestling with trolls in the underground. She checked everyone was ready to either sneak into Camelot or run like hell. Their anxious faces said they were.

“Beast, would you do the honors?” she pointed to the earth above.

He squeezed past her and began to paw at the ceiling.

They turned off their torches and were dropped into total darkness. The only sound was the scraping of dirt and rocks being knocked loose.

Mal found the hilt of her sword and gripped it tight. With how things had been going so far, they could be about to breach the mess and interrupt the dinner of hundreds of soldiers and die by multiple fork wounds. It was the mark of the desperate or the stupid to rely on luck. Which was Mal at this moment?

Chapter Text

The Beast reared back like he’d been punched in the nose and almost crushed Mal when he bolted from the hole he’d made. Mal didn’t have to wonder why long; a stench almost bowled her over like The Beast. She choked and cursed her helmet’s visor for getting in the way of plugging her nostrils.

“Ugh,” Evie gagged. The others were also horrified. “What is that smell?”

Of course, it was up to Mal to find out. She gestured for silence and for Jay to give her a leg up. She stood on his shoulders and cautiously stuck her head out the opening. She quickly came back down.

“I believe,” she said slowly, “we have come across the army latrine.”

“Oh gods,” Evie moaned.

“Can you see anyone?” Carlos asked.

“No but I’m sure they’re up there. We better go, fast.”

“You’re busting huh?” Gil chuckled.

She rolled her eyes and turned to where The Beast hung way back. “Bye, big guy. Don’t take on any more trolls, just let the goblins lead you straight home, yeah?”

He opened his mouth. And sneezed. And sneezed again. Ugh. That was adorable. Like a kitten’s sneeze. She gave a small smile in farewell.

She tucked The Wand into the sleeve of her gauntlet and her goblins saluted as she stood on Jay again and pulled herself up through the hole.

“Hades,” she mumbled to herself. The smell was not better topside.

The evening light was fading but she could see slats raised off the ground where soldiers needed to crouch and aim for the gap and the shit and piss collected under the wood. The only privacy were some divides of canvas here and there. Even the Isle was cleaner than this. The cons of supporting a force the size of Maleficent’s army, half of which wasn’t even currently in residence.

It could’ve been worse. The Beast could’ve dug directly into one of the latrines and not the pathway. She shuddered.

She kept watch as everyone got out and The Beast recovered enough to hoist Hook up last. His hook was tucked away into his armor and he tugged a glove over the wooden hand that replaced it and sighed. The Beast stared up at her while Mal cast a quick spell and the hole was magically filled.

He was going to be okay. He took down a troll. Mal only hoped he didn’t get hungry on the journey back and take a bite out of her goblins.

She noticed the playful look on Gil’s face and she didn’t like it.

“This place is a real dump,” he grinned.

“Come on, in line,” Mal said, taking the lead and starting walking.

“You’re right, time to do our duty,” he said.

“Stop it,” she growled.

“There will be no relief. My brother Gideon taught me all these jokes. I can’t hold it in.”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny,” Lonnie said coldly.

“You’re saying they stink?”

Jay snickered. Mal threw a poisonous look over her shoulder and they settled down. She didn’t quite know where she was leading them. But she could see the outer wall and as long as she was heading away from it, they’d be going deeper into the citadel. Mal went past a stretch of canvas and a soldier was there, not three feet from her, straining over his toilet crate. To ensure future nights were nightmare-free, she blocked out all accompanying noises.

“Hey!”

Stomach sinking, Mal and the others stopped as a soldier came across them. Carrying her helmet by her side, she was a thick waisted woman with a corn beef complexion and she gave them all a stern once over. Mal noticed a symbol stamped onto her breast plate. Mal saluted and the others took their cue and saluted as well.

“You all from the same division?” the soldier asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she answered.

“And you’re all on a bathroom break?”

Mal didn’t know where she was going with this. Was it unusual for so many from a single division to be at the latrines at once? Reluctantly she answered, “Yes, ma’am.”

The soldier smirked. “Let me guess. You guys had the vomelet this morning.”

Mal had no idea what a vomelet was but wasn’t about to say so. She nodded.

The soldier’s smirk grew. “Yeah, the cook’s outdone himself with that one. The captain’s table has better gruel but not by much,” she seemed to notice something, “Are you new recruits?”

Damn. The cleaning spell might’ve worked too well. This was a captain, and her armor was grimy and unpolished and totally unlike theirs. “Fairly new.”

“Which division?”

Mal was coming up with ways to murder this woman as quickly and quietly as possible when Gil stepped forward.

“Ma’am, wanna hear a joke?” he asked.

Uma grabbed his arm in warning but the soldier was intrigued.

“Go on then.”

Gil took a breath. “Why do ducks have feathers?

The soldier waited.

“To cover their butt-quack!”

Mal jumped as the woman seized and nearly dropped her helmet. Was she having some kind of fit? And then Mal heard her laugh. Mal and the others trailed into fake laughter, keeping a wary eye on the soldier, as Gil stood there proudly, pleased to have found his target audience.

“Why did the toilet paper roll down the hill? To get to the bottom!”

The soldier laughed harder while Mal died a little on the inside as she pretended to fight for breath.

Gil was enjoying himself. “Hey captain, if you serve the Evil Queen too much apple juice, guess what? Urine trouble!”

The soldier’s face went ashen and her laughter collapsed back into her throat. She stared at Gil in horror. “What’s the matter with you? Are you insane?”

Gil shifted on his feet, sensing he’d done wrong. Again.

“Sorry ma’am,” Uma stepped in, “He got dropped on his head as a baby.”

“And now he should be dropped in an alligator pit! He should be horse whipped from here to Schwartzvald for saying something so – so – so disrespectful about our High Warden!”

“Yes ma’am,” Uma nodded vigorously, “Completely unacceptable. We’ll escort him for disciplinary action.”

The soldier hesitated. “That task should fall to me, as your superior.”

“But you listened to the joke, ma’am,” Mal put out there, “You were laughing.”

“Not at that one!” she snapped.

“I know ma’am. But I’m sure you don’t want to appear involved in seditious talk in any way, shape or form.”

Eyes a bit wild, the soldier backed away as if they carried a contagious disease. “No. No. Perhaps you’re right. You’re capable of escorting him, yes? But you must ensure he’s most severely punished.”

Mal saluted. Noah shoved Gil to walk in front of him like a prisoner and Gil hung his head low. The soldier couldn’t leave them fast enough and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay, you don’t touch anything and don’t open your mouth for the rest of the day,” Uma said through gritted teeth. “You feel me?”

“I feel you,” Gil mumbled.

Mal let the others rip Gil to shreds in low voices as she found their way out of the latrines. And she got her first real look at the real Camelot.

They were in the village of the citadel and the tightly packed houses were thatched roofed and made of the same old, old stone as the castle nestled inside the inner walls. The modern age had barely left a mark on Camelot, so tightly did it hold onto its history that every street looked like a medieval replica and there was not a single car or phone booth or electric bulb in sight. The Evil Queen had found her niche – it was the ultimate castle fantasy.

“We’re on Gawain Road,” Chad said. He’d come to stand beside Mal without her noticing. “We should turn right onto Triston Lane and go up the hill to the southern drawbridge. We’ll have better luck on the southern, only one gatehouse will be in use.”

“And how do you know this?” she asked.

He threw her a dirty look. “I trained here,” he said shortly, and surged on ahead.

Lonnie walked alongside Mal and said in an aside: “Chad was training to be a knight before the war. He’s the only one of us who’s actually been here, we’d be wise to follow his advice.”

“I thought all the knights of Camelot were slaughtered,” Mal said, surprised.

“He was given leave to visit home before his induction. No one thought Camelot could be overcome until it was. He has never forgiven himself for not being here when it happened.”

Mal would have to watch him then. The last thing she needed was a wannabe knight losing his head over unresolved issues. Lonnie was staring at his back and Mal knew she wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines.

As night gathered, lowly minions and slaves came out to the streets to light the torches along the road. Chad led them out of the village and to the drawbridge. Mal stood a little straighter. There were watchmen on the battlements and Maleficent’s flag flew high on the poles. They stepped onto the drawbridge and Mal saw what Chad had meant; a gatehouse had long since collapsed into the ditch of metal spikes below and one hut only hung onto the wall next to the portcullis like a cocoon. A man sat inside, peering out at them with beady eyes and his feet resting on the windowsill.

Mal walked straight up to him. “Here to bring a troublemaker to the High Warden.”

The guard looked past her. Gil made a pained sound as someone gave him a thump for show. The guard scratched the hair on his neck with filthy fingers. “Papers?”

“This is an urgent case. We were ordered to bring him here double-quick and explain the situation to the Evil Queen herself.”

“No papers, no entry,” the guard rocked back onto his stool and closed his eyes to doze. “And no exceptions. Go find a lieutenant and bring me his stamped permission, otherwise, get lost.”

Mal pursed her lips and threw a meaningful glance over her shoulder. “You know what? My friend can convince you better than I can.”

“Listen girl. Down there you might be hot stuff but here, on this bridge, I make the rules," the guard said without opening his eyes.

“I love a man who takes charge,” Evie purred.

Her visor was up and when the guard opened his eyes and saw one of the most beautiful faces in the world he stopped rocking his chair, leaned forward, and found her bared wrist under his nose. His pupils dilated as he breathed in. His shoulders sagged. A delirious grin appeared as the hypnotic agent worked through his system.

Evie slid on her gauntlet again and smiled. “Let’s start again. I’d like you to do whatever it is you do to open this gate. Pretty please?”

The guard nodded. He bellowed “Oi” so loud they all took a step back, “Raise the bloody thing!”
A clank and the heavy iron bars of the portcullis began to inch upward. Goosebumps raised on Mal’s skin and she shook them off. This was it.

They went under the gate and into Camelot Castle while the guard blew kisses and wiggled his fingers goodbye and Evie promised to come back only if he stayed right there and did not move. Mal touched Evie’s arm with a congratulatory smile. Evie smiled back. Then Mal remembered they were fighting and she pulled down Evie’s visor rougher than was necessary to make up for her lapse.

“What was that?” Lonnie asked Evie pointedly.

“My new perfume. It smells divine and drives men crazy for exactly two minutes and thirty nine seconds before they faint.”

“I will confiscate that later,” she promised.

“You do you Lonnie,” Evie replied blithely. "You do you."

They came to a huge outer courtyard and not a soul was in sight. Gardens surrounded them that were shockingly green and lush after coming through the sad gray village. Torches lit the way and all the lights were on in the castle windows. Mal felt like a loud, ungainly creature as she crossed the courtyard and that prickling sensation of being watched which had begun as soon as she stepped on the bridge intensified.

Then the topiary moved.

A tiger shaped from evergreen leaves turned its head as Mal walked by. It snarled and showed its twiggy teeth and Carlos yelped, Noah shouted, and all hands hovered over the pommels of their swords. A stag lifted its head and snorted at them, blowing some of the leaves off its muzzle. Now that she was paying attention Mal could see that all the topiary was enchanted into animation. Monkeys sat in a carpet of petals, stuck in place by their roots and bored, shredding the roses they could reach and then waiting until the flowers bloomed again in seconds.

It was a beautiful garden interspersed with horror – there were horses with exposed wood ribs, tossing their heads in distress as real snakes slithered in and out of them. There was a leafy dog kicking its legs hopelessly as it was strangled by a rendering of a giant squid; a vulture was jabbing at a flinching squirrel in its talons with its hard beak, and a bear had leaves that shivered in pain because of the arrows struck through its shrub.

For all Mal knew, these were real animals transformed into plants. Or fake animals enchanted to feel real agony. It was an exhibition of extraordinary power, yes, but there was a sense that this garden had been a careless fancy and was now forgotten by its creator. And that callousness was more frightening than anything else.

“Come on. I don’t think they’re dangerous,” Mal whispered.

With a soft rustle of branches, an owl twisted its head around and watched them go through the archway into the inner courtyard.

Mal and the others stopped and stiffened as soldiers marched in a tight formation past them, moving in perfect sync with a double-timed step. Minions kept out of the way too and were scurrying like hunted mice as they ran with their loads and equipment and disappeared into the various doors. When running the Evil Queen’s castle, one didn’t dawdle.

“Through here,” Chad said.

A screech, and something big swooped down just over their heads and everyone, the minions and soldiers too, dropped to the ground. It flew back up with a flap of wings and Mal lifted her head to see a strix land on a tower. It turned mocking orange eyes on them before it was engulfed in a twirl of smoke and replaced with a naked woman. Blue swirls of tattooed symbols were curled around her face and body, so bold and strange that one almost didn’t recognise that there was a person underneath it. Her cackle stirred the cool air before she disappeared behind the parapets.

“Was that the Evil Queen?” Chad demanded to know.

“Ha! Oh yeah, Mom wishes she had a figure like that,” Evie said.

Chad looked at her, not appreciating her jaunty tone, and she bit her tongue.

They picked themselves up and were not questioned by anyone when they went inside. Impossibly, it was colder inside, as if the stone leeched all body warmth. Mal let Chad lead the way and they strutted as if they belonged. With utmost confidence they brushed past soldiers standing at post and guarding the ancient halls. Mal never underestimated how far bullshitting could get you into places you weren’t supposed to be.

The castle didn’t have a speck of dust and was richly decorated with oil paintings, chandeliers and blue and gold carpet runners one hundred feet long. Unsurprisingly, all the paintings were of the Queen at her most regal and pretentious, laden with rubies and diamonds and heavy black cloaks edged with ermine fur. She stared at them from every corner and Mal stared back until she was certain those eyes did not move.

Evie sighed so many times her lungs were in danger of permanently collapsing. No doubt she deplored every luxury, lamented every sign of her mother’s comfort which she did not share. Mal kept her mouth shut for the sake of the mission despite her annoyance. In these moments, why did Evie tend to slide into sadness instead of embracing anger like she should?

They arrived at a grand double door left ajar. Mal grabbed Chad's shoulder to stop him. Through the crack in the door came a sliver of light, purer and whiter than the glow cast by the torches on the wall. No guards were at this door. In fact, the hallway was deserted.

“The throne room’s this way,” Chad said impatiently.

Mal shook her head without a word and cautiously stepped to the door, ready to whip out The Wand. Slowly, very slowly, she opened it wider and peeked inside.

And saw herself peeking back at her.

Mirrors.

Mirrors without beginning or end, stretching down from a ceiling she couldn’t see to a floor that must be there and stretching and folding from side to side in a room of indiscernible size and illuminated by a mysterious source. It deserved the word: "discombobulating". It was a thoroughly discombobulating room with no doors or windows, just many doubles of Mal in the entrance scowling.

“Take a look at this. Can you believe it?” Mal groaned and threw open the door.

It was probably habit that made Evie raise her visor to look at herself in the mirrors. The rest of them copied her and their dismayed expressions were multiplied by their many reflections.

“This used to be the chapel,” Chad said, his soft tone belied by the angry red of his face.

Aziz whistled, impressed. “I thought Jafar was narcissistic. But this self-love is boss level.”

“I don’t like this,” Evie declared.

“Me neither. Is this the only path Chad?” Lonnie asked.

“We’d have to go all the way back and sneak through an armory, solars, the kitchens and the banquet hall to reach the throne room. Past these mirrors is,” Chad’s voice dropped in reverence, “the chamber of the Round Table…and then the throne is right there.”

"Mirrors are kind of the Evil Queen's thing, in case you didn't know. It'd be stupid to mess around with them," Uma said and crossed her ams.

“This is the fastest, sneakiest way to the Queen. We're going in,” Chad said firmly. 

“It’s too risky. We’ll have to go the other way," Mal said. 

“No!” Chad snapped and charged into the mirror room and he did not scream and fall into a bottomless pit like Mal half-expected and fully hoped. Lonnie went in and tried to drag him out but he refused to budge. Aziz and Noah tried to speak with him but Chad shrugged them off angrily.

“For gods’ sake, think. You’re meddling with powers you cannot possibly comprehend,” Mal insisted.

“No! I’m done listening to you. This is my second home, the home of my brotherhood and the king’s not here so this is my mission. And I say, we don’t waste any more time.”

So saying, he gave them his back and marched onwards and bumped straight into a mirror. He shook himself with a grunt, turned and walked on and got a few feet further than before and then he bounced off another mirror. If not for the seriousness of their situation, it would've been one of the best things Mal had seen since coming to Auradon. He turned to look at them, face red for a different reason now, and bit out, “Are you coming with me or what?"

They all exchanged looks. Mal sighed. She couldn't let him go alone - he could blow the whole mission and get them all killed. She left the door as they had found it and they joined Chad's side.

It was creepy, seeing this many doubles of oneself and it didn’t help that they shuffled along with their arms held out like demented sleepwalkers. There was no planning their path; when they hit a mirror they simply changed direction. They were hapless objects being bounced around in a pinball machine. 

“Hook. Jay. Gil. You do realize we can all see you pulling faces?” Noah commented.

“This is kind of fun. Can we get something like this for Beast Castle?” Jay asked as he distorted his cheeks and rolled his eyes at his reflections.

"Children," Noah said with disgust.

“You’re telling me this isn’t a waste of time?” Mal scathingly asked Chad.

“We should be at the end soon. The chapel’s not that big,” he said, scanning the mirrors for a door.

“Your chapel is gone. There's something at work here...this was such a mistake.”

“Would you just shut up?”

Mal whirled on him. “Hey, it wasn't me who got us into this, it was – “ She shoved her finger into his chest but instead of touching armor she touched smooth glass. She blinked and ran her hands over his reflection and then went to his next one and his next one and none of them were the real Chad.

She reached over to Evie and found a mirror. Uh oh. Evie’s reflections frowned and she stretched out her hand where she thought Mal stood and recoiled from the glass. There was panic as everyone discovered reflections instead of living breathing people. Mal ordered them to stay where they were but they kept moving, trying to find a way to someone, anyone. Then every Carlos stumbled out of view.

“Carlos!” Mal yelled.

“I’m here! I can hear you! I…can’t see you anymore. It’s just me,” his voice sounded far away and scared.

“That’s it,” Chad growled and unsheathed his sword and raised it to bring the pommel down and smash the glass.

“Don’t!” she shouted and went to seize his arm but of course only hit a mirror. He scowled but stayed his hand. “I don’t know what will happen if you break the glass but I doubt it would be good Chad. Listen guys. Obviously this maze is magical. My educated guess is that it’s designed to panic and confuse trespassers. So stay calm. Chad’s…right,” the word tasted vile, “We need to keep going and reach the end.”

He lowered his sword and sheathed it with a self-satisfied expression. He should've been grateful Mal couldn't lay a finger on him right now. 

“We’re splitting up?” Carlos asked from somewhere. “I guess that means I’m a step ahead of you all. Yay me.”

“I don’t like this,” Evie said again, “I really, really don’t.”

"You kidding? Cruising a witch's funhouse reminds me why I bother hanging out with you lot," Hook put away his wooden hand and screwed on his hook again with relish.

“We’ve got no choice,” Mal said to Evie.

“Then let’s get on with it,” Lonnie said and strode out of the frame of Mal's mirrors, by all appearances vanishing into thin air.

“If I can escape Professor Yen Sid’s class then I can get out of here, no problem. See you losers at the finish line,” Jay boasted.

“This might be slightly more difficult than snatching a wizard’s hat off his head, frisbeeing it out the window and making a run for it,” Uma snarked. 

"You're jealous you didn't think of it first."

One by one they left until Evie was the last one with Mal. The dozen Evies gave a tight, worried smile. All the Mals shrugged their shoulders and tossed out a crafty look that never meant anything good. “Finally, I’ll have some intelligent company. See you later, E.”

Her exit lost style points due to being forced to hold her arms out and feel her way around like a blind woman. A dozen steps later and Evie was gone.

“Guys?” Mal called out.

No answer. Not even a murmur. She was on her own.

Chapter Text

Mal could’ve sworn the mirror maze relished in playing tricks on her mind. Every time she was positive the path was clear she would come up against her reflection and get a close up of her scowl. Only by remaining cautious did she truly cover ground. It was frustrating and unnerving, witnessing every second of her progress. When she hurt her hand by accidentally cracking it against a mirror she growled and saw the green burn in her eyes, the flash of teeth and the ugly flair of her nostrils. How did girls – or guys – spend a large chunk of their time staring at one of these things? She was getting sick of her own face.

Her clanking armor echoed as she stomped on. A fear began to gnaw at her. This room could be infinite, a space that kept expanding with her every step. That would be devious. And totally in keeping with the Evil Queen’s sense of humor. She told herself she was being silly – it would require a colossal amount of power beyond the Queen’s capabilities  – but she couldn’t forget the idea.

The Wand found its way into Mal’s hand and she found its weight and sparkling presence reassuring. If worst came to worst she could blast the whole place and consequences be damned.

She wondered if the others had already made it out.

“Hi there.”

She spun at the voice and brandished The Wand, a rhyme jumping to her lips. Almost immediately, she dropped her hand and stared.

She saw Mal. But this Mal was unlike the other reflections; this girl wore tight leather, amethyst studded boots and an irritating smirk. A spiky silver headband that was just shy of being a crown held back her purple hair. Around her neck was a high silver collar with a dragon wing flourish and completing the look was a twin tailed cape that went from her shoulders to the floor in slithers of black. She looked badass. Utterly wicked.

“Like what you see?” the Mal in the mirror posed and swished her cape a little. “Check you out as much you want to. I don’t mind.”

“What is happening?” Mal murmured aloud. None of the other reflections had changed, they copied her actions and wore her armor and had the same mystified look as her own.

“Hey,” Mirror Mal, Double M, snapped her fingers twice for attention, “forget those dummies. Time for a little girl talk.”

“Girl talk. What a relief. Not even at my most unhinged would I want a girl talk so now I know this is a twisted by-product of a sorceress’s enchantment and I’m not losing my mind.”

“Or maybe it’s a case of desperate times, desperate measures. Consider this an intervention from your oldest and closest friend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mal demanded.

Double M tipped her head to the side and considered Mal with eyes as sharp as emerald chips. “I’ve been watching you. And it’s been killing me to witness the mistakes you’ve made. And continue making.”

“What mistakes?” She asked and then threw up her hands, “You know what? Why am I standing here talking to you? You’re an illusion.”

She strode away but Double M walked beside her easily and the fingertips of her hand skated on the glass dividing them in taunting swirls. “Don’t play dumb. So much that was once hard as stone has been,” a sneer, “softening.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Double M laughed and it was cold and high as a mountain peak. “If I know, you know. Neverland. Remember your failure at the cave?”

Mal stopped. She remembered Tinkerbell’s pixie dust. The shock of falling when thinking happy thoughts should have made her soar. She looked away, pushing the memory aside. “Like I said at the time: it wasn’t my fault. Pixie dust and dark fairies obviously don’t mix well.”

“Uh huh. What about before on Captain Hook’s ship when you freely gave The Wand to Ben? You’re going to an island that could kill you in spectacular fashion and you just gave away your best weapon?”

“You’re babbling. Who cares if I gave him The Wand? I’m still kicking, clearly I didn’t need it.”

“Fine. Turn the clock back more. Towering Heights. The Beast has you in his dreadful grasp and you’re swooning like any damsel in distress,” Double M smiled when Mal turned to glare at her. She put her hand on her cocked her hip, exactly as Mal would.  “But you have The Wand. You can save yourself from those sharp teeth. But you hesitate. Let me say that again, slower. You hesitate. Because you think you see something, a glimmer of humanity, of Ben.”

“Yeah! And I was right!”

Double M gave her a look of mock pity. “You’re missing the point. Except you’re not, are you?”

“You’re worse than a sphinx with your riddles. If you have something to say, mirror, mirror, on the wall, then spit it out.”

“Since coming to Auradon you’ve been slipping. Weakening. Changing. Breaking.”

Mal laughed. “That’s bullshit. I’m not listening to you any longer.”

She turned and walked away but there was no escaping her reflection.

“Two are to blame for this sad, lowly state. You. And – “

Mal chucked her helmet to the floor and put her hands over her ears. “La la la! I can’t hear you! One two three four he set fire to the whore, five six seven eight Frollo’s got a hot date!”

She finished the old nursery rhyme feeling more than a little foolish but felt better when she glanced around and saw Double M was no longer there. She was gone. All her reflections were true copies who mimicked her every action and she would never take that for granted again. Slicking back her sweaty hair and taking a deep, calming breath she reached down to pick up her helmet.

Double M crouched in the floor mirror and grinned up at Mal. “Hi there.”

“Gah!” Mal scuttled back. Upside down, Double M followed, and the soles of her boots and ends of her billowing cape were all Mal could see as they stood toe to toe.

“He’s a problem Mal. You need to get rid of him. I don’t care how. Ship him off somewhere so we never see him again. Just so long as you’re you again,” And Double M appeared next to her once more, leaning against the glass and pouting. “Please take this seriously. I’m concerned.”

“I hear your concerns,” Mal said in what she hoped was an even tone, “But they’re unnecessary. All this talk of weakening…please. I’m rotten to the core and always will be. Now if you’ll excuse me, bizarre doppelganger, there’s this thing I have to show up to or my friends will be super cross.”

She had turned and barely taken a step before Double M clamped her hand around Mal’s wrist. Her blood went ice cold. Double M dragged her back and spun her around and leaned in so close Mal could feel her breath.

“If you don’t stop this now, you won’t recognise yourself before you die. You’ll die Mal. He’ll break your heart and kill you.”

Mal shoved her away and ran. When she bashed into a mirror she hardly paused, her frightened face shown at every angle as she sprinted and it made tears prick her eyes. Pathetic. So pathetic!

She was getting battered and bruised by the maze and she didn’t care. Her armor punched cracks in the mirrors and she didn’t care. She wanted to get out of here. She needed to –

Mal skidded to a stop. Mirrors had been smashed to expose their under-surfaces of dead black and Evie sat motionless amidst the broken glass with her hands held limply in her lap. She didn’t look up at Mal. Her expression was like an empty well. She didn’t seem to her the crunching glass as Mal went to kneel in front of her.

“E. Hey, it’s me. Are you okay?”

Evie slowly met her eyes. Her bottom lip wobbled.

“What did you see?”

“Lady Tremaine,” her voice was a croak.

“The wicked stepmother?” Mal asked, taken aback.

“Yes. No. I thought it was her. She was old and bitter and dying. But it wasn’t her. It was me.”

Mal eased her iron grip on The Wand and put it away. She tried to pull Evie up but she was deadweight. “Evie, come on, you gotta help me.”

Reluctantly, Evie stood up. Her gaze sunk back down to the floor and Mal chucked her chin.

“You’ve got to pull yourself together, Evie. It was these fucked up mirrors. Your mother really did a number on this place but it’s not real. We’re all right.”

“I broke the mirrors,” Evie confessed, still sounding very small.

“Don’t worry about it.”

She steered Evie forward with her arm around her and they lumbered back to unblemished mirrors. Double M didn’t appear for an encore, thankfully. After today, Mal didn’t think she’d look in a mirror ever again.

“Where’s your helmet?” Evie murmured.

“Oh. I – I lost it.”

“Em…What I saw. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you – “

“I wouldn’t give too much thought about what we saw,” Mal interrupted, “It’s the kind of magic that’s best forgotten.”

Evie turned her head to look at her. “You saw something too?”

Mal opened her mouth with no idea of what she was going to say but Evie pointed and shouted, “A door!”

There stood possibly the most beautiful sight Mal had ever seen: a simple oak door – actually several oak doors with its reflections included. Evie held her hand, unwilling to be parted again, as they investigated until they found the real door. Mal grasped the doorknob and pulled it without thought to what might be on the other side and they fell into the next room, a dark dusty flagstone room with not a single mirror. It was glorious.

“We must be the first here,” Evie said with a trace of anxiety.

“Guess so.”

They crossed their arms and waited.

“You said you saw something in the mirrors too?” Evie questioned.

“No. It was nothing.”

Evie hesitated. “I…I talked to my reflection. She said horrible things. About me and…about you. She talked about the kind of life we planned on living.”

Mal gave her a hard look that brooked no argument. “You always pick the worst moments to fall apart on me Evie. Try not to fall victim to your mother’s mind games. We’re kind of in the middle of something here.”

Evie flinched, aggrieved, and Mal was nearly strangled by the turmoil of her emotions and she turned her head to stare resentfully at nothing. The silence lasted until Jay and Carlos appeared. She didn’t know how worried she was about them until the relief flooded through her.

“Mal! Evie!” they both shouted, relieved too. In their eagerness to get to them the boys lost all patience and ran and rebounded off mirrors like idiots. Mal ordered them to take it slow and finally they reached the door. Overtaken by exuberance, Jay lifted Mal and Evie into a bearhug and didn’t drop them until Mal threatened to bite off his ear.

“Was it terrible in there for you too?” Evie asked them.

Carlos shrugged uncomfortably. “I saw a pitiful, scared, beaten down version of me. My mother’s son. Nothing I wasn’t already familiar with.”

“I don’t know what you lot are talking about!” Jay grinned, “I saw an awesome me, a kickass me, this total gangsta who walked like no one could touch him. Man, I’m telling you, he had fire! It’s gotten me pumped,” he rolled his shoulders and flexed, “Let’s take down this witch.”

“I’m glad one of us is enjoying themselves. But we have to wait for the AKs and Uma,” Mal said.

“Why? They’ll just get in our way,” he whined.

“We’re waiting.”

They didn’t need to for long; the entire royal guard stumbled into view minutes later. Chad was being carried between Aziz and Lonnie with his feet dragging and his head lolling. They carefully lowered him onto the stone floor and knelt to hover over him.

“What happened?” Mal asked Noah.

“We don’t know. We found him like this. He must’ve got a scare from that trippy magic.”

Lonnie removed his helmet and patted his cheek and kept repeating his name and encouragements to get up. Chad moaned. He didn’t look well. He resembled a little boy who’d been through his first haunted house.

“Come on sweetie, wake up,” Evie pleaded.

He blinked heavily and licked his lips. Lonnie praised his efforts as she firmly sat him up and he looked around at them all, as if he had no idea who they were or where he was.

“You all right, bud?” Noah ventured to ask.

“No. No I’m not,” Chad pointed shakily to the mirrors in the next room, “I…I saw... It was horrible. Horrible.”

He started to cry.

Lonnie looked stricken. Noah and Aziz were frozen, shocked. Evie threw herself down and gave Chad a hug he didn’t seem to notice. Snot ran down his nose as he sobbed, hard.

Mal stamped her foot. No. This would not do.

She pushed Evie aside and crouched in front of Chad and gripped his chin. “Stop it! You’re really going to let the Evil Queen screw with your head over such a little thing? It was an illusion, that’s all. I’ve seen better conjuring tricks at birthday parties.”

“You mean it was a lie?” He wiped his nose and she let him go.

“Yes. Whatever you saw was false.”

Lonnie was watching her knowingly. She didn’t believe Mal one jot but didn’t say anything because Chad was starting to revive. Color came back to his cheeks and he nodded to himself, mumbling under his breath.

“Hi there.”

Mal’s heart leapt into her throat and she spun, expecting Double M, but it was only Uma standing in the doorway, Gil and Hook peering over her shoulder behind her.

“We found our way by following the sound of intense blubbering. Thanks for that,” Uma smiled sweetly.

Shame-faced, Chad wobbled to his feet and jammed his helmet back onto his head. Uma and her boys strode inside and she kicked the door with her heel and closed off the mirror maze. A knot of anxiety finally loosened.

“You guys all right?” Mal asked the trio.

“Yes. Why? Aren’t you?” Uma smirked. She didn’t look any different, she was the same cocksure Uma with not a single trace of unease. Like she’d been on a pleasant evening stroll. The contents of Mal’s stomach soured with envy.

“We’re fine,” Mal said.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Wait. Where’s the Table?” Chad asked.

He was cognizant enough now to check out his surroundings and he was frowning in the dark, confused. The cavernous room was empty except for a pile of sticks in the corner. Hook pointed to it with a chuckle.

“I think that’s it, mate.”

Chad stepped slowly to the corner. What had once been the ancient and sacred meeting place of King Arthur’s knights was now obliterated, axed into a thousand pieces. He picked up a piece of kindling and turned it in his hands, seeing the humble knotted design on the wooden splint. He was shaking and Mal rolled her eyes. It was only furniture.

Mal realized he wasn’t crying when he snarled, with a voice steeped in hate, “That bitch. I’m going to kill her.”

He took out his sword and charged. They shouted at him but he was unstoppable, he raced to the door on the other side and pulled it open and rushed in with a battle cry. They went after him and skidded into the throne room and almost crashed into him. Chad was completely still except for his raised sword trembling in the air.

At the end of the gallery were steps leading to a throne; a woman sat there and looked down her nose at them. She had lips as red as blood. Her face was pale as the moon. Swathes of blackest night were her only attire.

It was not the Evil Queen.

A chill went down Mal’s neck in a warning that was far too late.

“Welcome,” said Maleficent, “You are late in coming but I will let it pass. Anticipation makes a reunion all the sweeter.”

Feeling weightless and in need of being tethered to the earth, Mal went around Chad to take point of the group. She heard the snick of blades being drawn behind her back and a soft prayer from Aziz. A smile slid across Maleficent’s face like a flare of red silk. Every fibre of Mal’s being was urging her to run. Even Double M would’ve approved of making a break for it like a coward. Instead, Mal took one step and then another. The others kept close to her back and followed her lead. She had no plan.

“You were expecting us, Mother?”

Maleficent ground the scepter she held at her side into the step and Mal shivered at the sound. “When I learned you’d be dropping by I couldn’t resist saying hello so I sent Queenie off to Winter’s Keep to greet you in her place. I hope you don’t mind, Daughter.”

Mal’s smile must’ve been fragile as an autumn leaf but at least she managed it. “Don’t be silly, of course not.”

They were half-way to the throne when Maleficent stood up. Mal and the others froze. An ember sparked in the crystal of Maleficent’s scepter and swelled until the entire throne room was tinted with venomous green and the Mistress of Evil’s shadow towered over them all.

“Mother,” Mal began.

Maleficent’s expression cracked into a snarl and she swung her scepter and sent a stream of lightning hurtling towards them.

The Wand was already out of Mal’s sleeve and in her hand and she screamed:

Shield

Field

A tremendous boom nearly brought her to her knees as the lightning hit the gossamer shield and crackled with the impact. Mal panted with adrenaline, still pointing The Wand.

Maleficent’s eyes widened. “The Wand? You have the Fairy Godmother’s wand?”

“Chad, you and I flank her when we get the chance,” Lonnie murmured quickly, “Mal is the distraction. Aziz use your daggers. Noah – “

“I bet you thought I’d be sorting through garbage on the Isle for the rest of my life. But I’ve been busy,” Mal said with a hint of rebellion.

Maleficent descended down a few steps to better sneer at her. “I can see that. Cuddling up to the enemy to get their help, fighting arm in arm with the heroes and wielding a Light Fairy’s wand. How noble. How – “

Lightning crashed into the shield again and writhed furiously against it and offshoots of electricity carved into the stone floor.  “ – traitorous!”

Maleficent raised her staff and the lightning zipped up and sliced into the ceiling. Mal looked up and cried out and ran blindly, trying not to be crushed by the great blocks of stone raining down. A scream that was so agonized it almost wasn’t human made her head turn but then all her hair went stiff with static and she dodged in time to avoid a sweep of lightning that caught Lonnie instead. Lonnie convulsed soundlessly and sparks flew and electric tendrils snapped out of the spikes of her armor – a human lightning rod – before the dark power released her and she fell, smoking, to the ground, dead.

“Did you think yourself so clever you could escape my notice Mal?” Maleficent seethed and brandished her scepter again.

Mal dived back behind the cover of her magic shield while the spot where she’d been standing was scoured with lightning. Back pressed against the hard magic of the shield, she looked for the others as her mother raged behind her.

“Fool! Ingrate! Ungrateful wretch!”

More rubble fell from the ceiling and the glass in the windows exploded as the castle rocked with the strength of the Mistress’s fury. Her power shivered through Mal’s bones. She stared as Chad ran out from behind a stone block with sword held high, “For Camelot!”

And he charged straight for Maleficent. Mal pointed The Wand at him,

Cancel dragon snack

Feet do a rollback

Chad’s armored boots shone with the spell and, like someone had pressed rewind, he stopped and he hollered with impotent anger as his steps reversed and he ran backward to his hiding place. He tried to go again but Gil reached out from behind the stone and dragged him back.

Mal crawled to the edge of the shield. Maleficent laughed. “I only wish the boy-king was here to see the folly of his actions and to realize that you make an even poorer heroine than you do a villainess.”

Low to the ground, Mal flicked The Wand out the side of the shield and murmured:

If truth is best and honest good

Then make my wish understood

Know I this person’s deepest fear

Draw it out, have fact appear

Wand, bring light to this darkest heart

Else shock will give a fatal start

The spell flew but Maleficent murmured also and thrust out her scepter. The two magics collided like shooting stars and wrestled in a pinwheeling firework of white, green, gold and red before wearing itself out and fracturing into a gentle rain of sparkles.

“You forgot the two things you ever needed to know: the dark is always stronger…and never pick a fight with me,” Maleficent tipped back her horns proudly and slitted her eyes.

“Mal!” Evie was at her side, grabbing her. “Please! It’s Jay!”

Mal looked dumbly at her. Was Jay hurt? It was too fast. It was all happening too fast. She didn’t know where to turn. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go!

Maleficent raised her voice along with her scepter.

Bring forth a thorny cage and entrap

With thorns slier than the white death cap

For the slightest prick will send to sleep

The prisoners I intend to keep

The stone floor split and crumbled in a wide circle around them and released hideous black brambles covered in thorns. Within seconds the brambles grew so tall they brushed the ceiling and were of impenetrable thickness. And they kept growing. Maleficent watched from her throne, cackling.

“Time to leave,” Mal said and led Evie by the hand to gather the others.

Noah was dragging Lonnie’s body away from the long tongues of thorns grasping for her legs and slithering along the stone as fast as he could move her. Aziz swung his sword again and again and clipped back the plant for the moments Noah needed to lift Lonnie up onto on his shoulder and then they both ran for Mal.

The thornbush rolled over the magic shield and moved in with sadistic glee as it tightened the trap.

Uma and Hook and then Gil and Chad came out from their cover behind the rocks. Hook’s eyes were nearly sealed shut by the blood covering his face, the rockfall had given him the beating of his life. Uma was his eyes and guided him as he swayed like a drunk. Gil carried Chad in an unbreakable hug and Chad screamed obscenities at them and Maleficent in turn.

Evie brought Mal to Jay. He was on his back, unable to move because of the huge slab of stone pinning his legs. Crimson pooled from underneath the stone. Carlos’s lips were white and bloodless and he held Jay’s hand as if to anchor Jay to him. Jay was soaked with sweat and he twitched and spasmed with pain.

“Get it off me Mal,” he gasped.

The brambles puckered with thorns as long and sharp as any spindle on a spinning wheel, vines snapped at their feet and reached for their heads with snaking tongues. Mal and her people squeezed together around Jay. The thorns filled their vision. She hardly dared to breathe. A tendril curled out to brush her cheek…

“Mal…”

She shook out The Wand:

Let us see another dawn

Take us to safe Auradon

Before they teleported, Mal glanced at her mother in the one small gap in the brambles and in that fraction of a second she saw everything. She saw that Maleficent was reclining in her throne and witnessing their escape without rancour and wore the heavy-lidded look of a cat or a lizard waiting for her prey to come back out of their little burrow, appeased by the fact they had nowhere else to hide. They had to come out soon. And when they did, Maleficent would gorge herself.

And then they materialized in the doorway of Castle Beast, into a quiet night with no nightmare mothers, no talking mirrors or swooping strixes or deadly trolls. There was only the blessed sound of crickets in the garden. They were safe.

Mal closed her eyes. She gulped and noticed her mouth was dry as parchment. She needed a minute to process things, to not feel and just think and find her equilibrium again.

But Evie screamed.

Mal’s eyelids flew open and she spun in time to see Jay lose consciousness.

Jay’s legs were missing below the knees and blood gushed from the open wounds.

Chapter Text

Mal hung her head under the pelting water from the showerhead and steam engulfed the bathroom until she could hardly see. She brutally scrubbed her skin with the soap bar without care for her scrapes and bruises. The sting was nothing to the merciless pounding in her head. It sounded like lightning strikes, boulders crashing down from above and panicked running feet.  

She watched the water stream past her toes and disappear down the drain. She watched it for a long time and the water ran cold. The castle didn’t have a drop of hot water left; that would make her popular, and the thought prompted a sarcastic chuckle. Eventually her shivering made her turn off the faucets and get out, shivering was fear, was weakness, and was repellent to her even now.

She went into her bedroom and Evie wasn’t there but the clothes Queen Belle had lent Mal were ironed and neatly folded on the bed. Dressing herself without paying attention to what she was doing it was a minor miracle that her outfit wasn’t worn inside out. She put the beanie on last and, reluctantly, used a mirror to make sure every strand of purple hair was stuffed inside it. Her reflection stared dully back at her. She looked washed out. Beige.

She slipped into sneakers and left her rooms, walking out of Castle Beast to find the chauffer waiting for her with the car’s back door open in invitation. Another kindness Queen Belle had insisted Mal accept, using the queen’s private ride. Mal hadn’t put up much of a fight.

She got into the car and then they were off. Mal stared out the window. She might’ve dreaded what was to come except her mind was locked firmly onto the past. On Camelot. When she wasn’t jumping back and forth madly from one shocking moment to the next she tried to put it all in linear order and pinpoint her precise failures. She had been stupid and slow, that was obvious, so what could she have done different? Which always led to the bigger questions: How did she not see this coming? How could she have let it happen?

“You all right, miss?” the chauffer asked, looking at her through the rear-view mirror.

She realized she was hunched over, holding her gut and grinding her teeth. “Fine,” she snapped and leaned back. The flare of temper was welcome, familiar. Something that was all hers.

They arrived and parked and Mal was out before the chauffer could open her door for her. She looked up at the impressive size of the hospital. She’d assumed Auradonians would hide their ill not unlike how they hid their troublemakers. But this was like a palace.

The chauffer guided her to the glass doors and they stepped inside. The atmosphere was entirely foreign to Mal and put her on edge. Not a palace, a church, with all due seriousness and inexplicable hope.

“Yes?” the receptionist queried while she juggled phone calls and the demands of her computer.

“Here to see Jared Plagg,” the chauffer said, unaware the name was a fake for the son of Jafar.

“I’ll need to see your IDs and log you in,” she said as she looked up the name.

He slid a letter with the wax seal of Queen Belle on it across the desk. The receptionist broke the seal and read carefully. She made them slap visitor badges and mysterious orange sticky dots onto their chests and sent them away with a floor and room number they needed to find.

Luckily, Mal’s guide knew the place otherwise she would’ve endlessly wandered these sterile white halls where people either zoomed from one end of the building to the other or were suspended in time in overcrowded waiting areas, despairing of ever getting out of there.

Just past a nurse’s station, Mal stopped at Door 202 on Level 3. Noah and Aziz were at post outside the door and acknowledged her with nods.

“Is he…?” she pointed at the door.

In answer, Aziz opened it.

She hung back, anchored to the floor, and peered inside warily.

There was only one patient in the room and Ben sat on the end of the hospital bed. The figure lying there was wrapped in bandages almost from head to toe. The swollen face was unrecognizable and mostly covered by an oxygen mask. It could’ve been anyone. But it was Lonnie.

Ben noticed he wasn’t alone and stood.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Mal apologized.

“No, come in,” he said.

She had been afraid he’d say that. She came closer, avoiding his eyes. “Your mother told me she hasn’t woken up yet.”

“No. She’s in a medically induced coma.”

The words made no sense to her. “Is that…good?”

“Sort of. She would never have made it without the fairies but there’s only so much magic can do. Especially against Maleficent’s evil.”

Mal tried not to wince.

“It’s up to the doctors now,” he said. There was the reassuring beep of a heart monitor in the room along with the less comforting pump of the ventilator. She wondered if he noticed how much Lonnie resembled someone already mummified and ready to be entombed.

Mal went to him and squeezed his shoulder. “She’s strong. At the time, I thought for sure she was dead. But she’s a fighter.”

“They’re always trying to protect me, always worried about me getting hurt,” he rasped, “And I’m fine, and she’s dying.”

“She won’t die Ben,” she said fiercely. He bobbed his head, willing to let her maybe-lie go unchallenged. She noticed how close she was to him and stepped back and crossed her arms self-consciously.

Ben ran his hand down his face. He looked as tired as she did. “Have you seen him yet?”

She shook her head.

“He’s down the hall. Go. He’ll want to see you.”

Mal was sure he didn’t. But after taking one last look at the captain struggling for life, she went.

Jay was sitting upright in his bed and tracked her movements with a hard stare as she closed the door and went to stand at the foot of his bed. He didn’t look well, he was shrinking somehow; it was as if he had an internal wound which was bleeding out unchecked.

“Hey,” she said, for lack of anything better.

Jay lifted his chin a fraction.

Against her will, her gaze travelled down his body to where the blanket fell flat and defined the end of him, which was all too soon. She felt nauseous and prayed it didn’t show.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“What kind of question is that?” the words were flung at her as hatefully as a Molotov cocktail.

“I just meant…”

Jay followed her gaze to his stumps. “You know, when I woke up here, I thought they were still there. I could still feel them. A nurse had to show me before I believed her. But I still feel them sometimes.”

Mal bit her lip. “Auradon will take care of you. They know what they’re doing.”

“Like hell. They can’t give me my legs back.”

No. Like Ben said, magic can’t fix everything. If the teleportation spell had included the parts it had severed there might’ve been a chance to reattach them. But the spell had brought Jay and left the rest under a boulder in Camelot Castle.

“What happened Mal?” Jay asked her.

“The teleportation spell couldn’t bring both you and the debris…it did the only thing it could…”

“No Mal, I mean you! What happened with you?” he shouted. He gripped the rails of his bed like he might leap out of it and throw her against the wall. “Why didn’t you spell that rock off of me?”

She stared. “I…there wasn’t time, Jay. Mother…Maleficent’s thorns were…”

“Bullshit. There was time.”

“What. You think I wanted this?”

“You lost your nerve,” he accused in a low voice.

“I saved our lives!” Mal countered.

“Some life. Look at me Mal!” he threw off the blanket and there were the remains of his legs. She stepped back. The bandaged stumps were grotesque compared to what had been there before. “What kind of life can I have with these?”

Mal shook her head helplessly. “I won’t abandon you Jay. No matter what.”

“I don’t want your pity, your majesty,” he leaned back and glared, “I wanted you to be half as badass as you claimed to be. Two minutes with your mama and you blew it. You ran. But I’m the one who suffers for it.”

“Jay…”

“Get out.”

Carlos was in the hallway and Mal nearly knocked the food tray he was carrying out of his hands as she rushed past. He called her name but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She beat the chauffer to the car and if she’d known how to drive she would’ve already been halfway back to Castle Beast by the time he got to the carpark.

The journey back was so slow that Mal was prepared to throw herself out of the car and run the remainder, and when they finally returned she dashed into the castle and sprinted to her rooms and pushed the door closed like a mad dog killer was coming after her.

Evie sat up on her bed. She took one look at Mal’s face and held out her arms. Sobs clawed their way out of Mal’s throat and she shuffled closer, all her strength expended in the race to get here, to what she now knew she had desperately needed. Evie. Her Evie.

Evie pulled her down to kneel on the bed and removed her beanie to comb her hair with her fingers. Mal hid her face against Evie’s shoulder and Evie hugged her tight and they fell to lie together.

“We’re still fighting,” Mal whined while she turned to face away and drew Evie’s arms around her and pinned them into place.

“I know.”

“I’m still mad at you,” Mal insisted, tears soaking the pillow.

Evie peppered kisses up and down Mal’s neck and shoulder. “Of course you are.”

Every caress, every kiss, Mal greedily ate them up until the nightmare of the last twenty-four hours finally eased its chokehold. When she felt Evie’s own tears dampening her sweater she reached back and brushed her cheek. Evie grasped that hand and kissed her fingers. Then they just lay there, folded together as perfectly as origami. Mal sighed. She never wanted to move. She wanted to stay here forever and the rest of the world could turn to ashes. Even Jay.

Gods, Jay…

“Jay…blames me,” Mal confessed.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Evie said immediately.

“How do you figure that? My gang. My plan. My failure.”

“I think Maleficent takes a little of the responsibility. Come on, we wouldn’t have even made it out of there if it wasn’t for you.”

“Yeah. I’m leader of the year. I should get a medal for knowing how to properly cower and flee when I’ve led us into a trap,” Mal said in a monotone.

Evie circled her hip with her thumb in soothing circles. “Enough Em. This will drive you crazy. Jay and Carlos and I, we knew fighting our parents would be…hard. The hardest thing we’d ever do. Nothing has changed, we still need you. You’re our best chance, our only chance, you know that.”

Mal sniffled. “I don’t know what to do.”

A sweet kiss by her ear. “You will."

Mal stayed in Evie’s bed that night and at the old study hall in the morning Mal was strangely free of worry and could eat her breakfast and actually taste it. It was tricky shovelling cereal into her mouth with her left hand while her right held Evie’s under the table but she managed. She didn’t want to let go yet. And by the tightness of Evie’s grip, she wasn’t ready either.

This felt right. Like so many mornings on the Isle when it was just them and no one could pop their little bubble.  

Mal wiped milk from her chin and cleared her throat.

“Evie…” Mal said. Evie waited, curious. Giving up, Mal put all her gratitude and relief and affection into a single nod. Evie’s answering grin was radiant.

Mal almost grinned back but Doug burst through the door and the expression on his face made her let go of Evie and get to her feet. In an instant Mal knew that self-indulgence was over and the respite from her troubles ended. 

Evie fired questions at Doug but he only strode to the television in the corner and turned it on. He stepped back to show Maleficent filling the screen.

Mal edged toward the TV like it was an animal that could lash out and bite her. Doug turned up the volume.

“Are you sure it’s working?” Maleficent scowled, sitting on Camelot’s throne.

Someone off-camera answered timidly in the affirmative.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a green light? How do you know it’s on if there’s no light?” she snapped.

“We are live Mistress, I swear. Auradon is watching.”

Maleficent arched her brow and then with disconcerting accuracy she looked right where she should and stared directly into the eyes of Mal and every terrified soul with a phone, tablet, computer or TV. She smiled as she sensed their rapt attention.

“My poor subjects. My lost and confused lambs. I understand you’ve been going through a difficult transition. But,” her tone gained flint and sparking embers, “you have made it harder on yourselves by clinging onto the old establishment. You think the heroes and princes and fairies will save you from me? I’m speaking through this foul machine to personally assure you they will not.”

“Block the broadcast,” Mal said to Doug without looking away.

“There’s no time,” he said quietly.

“And what’s more,” Maleficent continued, “They know full well their doomed. And in their fear and desperation, they have betrayed you. Your pitiful king has released my daughter and a band of Isle scum and has been secretly collaborating with them for months in a slap dash attempt to get the better of me.”

Evie touched Mal’s shoulder, either to reassure or to seek comfort, but Mal barely noticed. The sound of Maleficent grinding her scepter into stone was all consuming.

“So much for the heroes,” the Mistress of Evil mocked, “and their great, noble cause. In the end, they were willing to do anything to get what they wanted. Just like me.”

And here, her smirk was truly dreadful as she leaned closer to the camera. “In that same vein...unless my offspring is handed over to me in the next two hours I will raze Schwartzvald to the ground and return the most technologically corrupted region in my kingdom to a natural state.”

“God. God no,” Doug gasped into his palm.

“It will be as it should be. No more wires. No engines. No blasted internet. And absolutely no cameras.” Her sneer transformed into a thoughtful pursing of her lips. “Well. Perhaps one. If your king is willing to ally with villains he can stomach watching a city burn, yes?”

She laughed and the mad joy in her glowing eyes jumped off the screen before the TV cut to static gray.

The three of them stood there, gawping at the TV in a kind of paralysis. Was there a single person in the land not doing the same at this moment?

Mal breathed in and out to get her heartbeat under control and turned to Doug. “Where’s Ben? I need to speak with him,” then she looked at Evie, “You were right. I do know what to do.”

Chapter Text

Once, when Ben was seven years old, his father allowed him to sit in on one of the most important meetings in the history of the king’s rule: the king officially asked the Fairy Godmother to give up The Wand and let it be retired to a museum. Fairy Godmother was willing, she understood his reasons. But she hadn’t attended the summons from the king alone.

“This is absurd!” Flora shouted as Merryweather and Fauna quivered with emotion, “You cannot be serious! Why should Fairy Godmother part with The Wand? Her wand?"

Ben shrunk back in his chair in the corner. He hadn’t known ‘angry’ was a possible setting in the fairy brain; he’d assumed they were permanently set to ‘happy’. The Good Fairies’ wings were flapping as hard as hummingbirds’ and made them taller than King Beast and harder to dictate to.

King Beast’s features were set in sternest stone, “In this age, magic injures as much as it aids. My kingdom will flourish if the next generation relies on the power of their minds to better themselves and their neighbours. Not temperamental sorcery.”

“It’s for the children,” Fairy Godmother spoke to the three reassuringly, “No matter their background, children shouldn’t have to feel like they must wish on stars and discover secret fairy relations to achieve their dreams. Our king’s vision for the land is for a more just society and it is our duty to assist him.”

The Good Fairies watched in bug-eyed astonishment as she curtseyed and offered up The Wand and the king took it as casually as if it were a breadstick and popped it on the velvet pillow an attendant was holding at the ready. Even at Ben’s young age, he’d thought his father’s rough handling of The Wand was salt in the wound and he was nearly brought to tears at the fear and hurt in the green fairy’s voice.

“I don’t understand. The peace you enjoy, throughout the land and in your own private life sire, is due to us, to fairies, to magic.”

“That’s right!” Merryweather scowled at the king, “We helped vanquish the villains and when hell was going to spit them all out we created the Isle for you! All with magic, blockhead!”

Fairy Godmother gasped and King Beast’s face darkened. But he didn’t comment on the insult. He looked the Good Fairies in the eye. “And I am grateful to all of you. As are my subjects. But we cannot act the same in peacetime as we do in war. Don’t you see, the battle between good and evil is over! We won! We don’t need magic now. We need the room to be ourselves.”

Flora blinked and backpeddled in the air as a horrible thought occurred to her and she pressed her wand to her chest. “Are we to give up our wands forever too?”

King Ben said nothing for a moment and the tension mounted. The Fairy Godmother wrung her hands and looked back and forth to her friends and her king.

“I won’t order you to surrender them,” King Beast said finally, “But I strongly urge you to. And in my public address, I will say that I disapprove of you keeping them.”

The Good Fairies didn’t change their minds, but they tried to change the king’s. They argued magic’s virtues until they were teary and hoarse-throated and drained of color. But King Beast stood implacable.

Afterward, his father took him aside and kneeled to look him in the face. “Your allies can be as obstructive as your enemies, Ben. Remember, never go into the fray without a plan and try not to lose your temper. Or you will lose them.”

Ben thought that would be the day that lived in his memory as the most hostile, complicated and momentous meeting ever to take place in the royal palace.

He'd been wrong. Today was that day.

Voices fought to be heard as accusations and lamentations ricocheted off the walls of Ben’s quarters. There was no question of moving to the council chamber, they couldn’t waste the time. Ben was still in his morning robe and he didn’t think anyone had noticed. He had seen Maleficent’s broadcast on his tablet as he’d eaten breakfast and it had only been minutes until the entirety of his Council and MAAM had paraded inside with Jane trailing along, looking close to a panic attack.

“We must hand over Maleficent’s daughter immediately! It’s the only way!” Flora had asserted as soon as she’d walked in. Merryweather, Fauna and the Blue Fairy all had spoken their agreement.

But General Mulan had slashed her hand through the air in absolute dismissal. “We would be fools to believe Maleficent would keep her word and spare Schwartzvald if we comply with her wishes. Our only choice is a full-military assault on Schwartzvald. Cut off the dragon’s head and be done with it.”

The Blue Fairy had decried Mulan’s idea as lunacy and had dared bring up Lonnie; perhaps Mulan was allowing her feelings as a mother to affect her judgement? Privately, Ben had wondered the same. Mulan appeared very eager to draw blood.

And now Mulan and Blue Fairy were engaged in vicious debate and ignoring the king entirely.

Flora squeezed past the two and addressed Ben, “Mal is a villainess’s daughter, a dark fairy. She has never belonged here. She needs to be returned, for all our sakes.” She recited Maleficent’s words as if they weren’t burned into the inside of Ben’s skull, lectured him on his duty to his people, and tore Mal down to the level of lowlife not worth lifting a toothpick to defend.

Princess Aquata and Princess Arista scowled at the room and kept interjecting with “We said this was a bad idea! Right at the start, we told you!” and seemed to have nothing more to contribute but that.

Doc stood in the corner, shaken and confused, with fat tears soaking his white beard. He mumbled questions no one could hear. Fairy Godmother acted as his shelter in the storm and comforted the old man as best as she could along with Jane.

Quasimodo’s heavy features were warped with sadness and he stood silent and still. Mama Odie was leaning her head against her stick, swaying slightly and moaning low. Ben didn’t know if she was in a deep magical trance or a state of shock. Ben rubbed his eyes. His closest advisors were a fractured mess and the impossible job of uniting them fell to him.

He interrupted Mulan and the Blue Fairy before Mulan could tackle the fairy to the floor. “General, Schwartzvald is deep into Maleficent’s territory. Disregarding the time crunch, teleporting our army there would be an extraordinary sum of magic that, even if it were possible, would exhaust all our sorcerers and put them out of the fight. Our soldiers would be without support, without intel and without a real plan. All while leaving our capital vulnerable. Maleficent would love nothing better than for us to act rashly and throw our army away. As much as I hate to say it, there is no military solution here.”

“Then you agree we must surrender the girl?” the Blue Fairy asked, sounding far too eager. Ben grimaced as if he’d taken a bite out of a rotten peach. He hardly saw Blue Fairy’s beauty anymore, it had been gradually peeled away in his mind’s eye to reveal a self-righteous and unpleasant person.

“But won’t Maleficent kill her for helping us?” the Fairy Godmother put in urgently.

“Not necessarily. Anyway, it’s not our affair. The citizens of Schwartzvald are our concern,” the Blue Fairy said.

King Ben closed his eyes. “No.”

“Your majesty?” Fauna asked.

“I mean no. Mal won’t be our sacrificial lamb. The day we start to deliver victims to Maleficent in the hope of being spared ourselves, we will have truly lost everything. Mal is one of us,” he glanced at the Blue Fairy hard, “One of our own. I won’t do it.”

“She is hardly a lamb,” Flora scoffed, “She’s – “

“No enough!” Ben took an unconscious step forward as he glared at the fairy. He breathed through his nose and tried to remember his father’s words. Don’t get angry. “Enough. I won’t let anyone trash her name. Why do you think Maleficent wants to take her from us? Because Mal is the reason why we have struck blow after blow against her. Mal has liberated thousands and defeated some of our worst villains. She’s saved us from an exploding nexus almost singlehandedly. What more must she do to earn your trust and loyalty?”

“She has only gotten as far as she has,” Flora said coldly, “Because she had Fairy Godmother’s wand.”

Ben stared. Fairy Godmother, twirling her wand nervously, forgot Doc and was looking at Flora the way one did when one of your best friends caught you keeping truths from them, with a tinge of shame and defiance.

Jane spoke first, sounding more betrayed than Flora did. “What do you mean she had Mom’s wand? Mom? What is she talking about?” 

“Sire?” Mulan was frowning.

“The king armed Maleficent’s daughter with the most powerful wand in the land as soon as she stepped on our shore, practically. She’s been using it constantly, despite promising Fairy Godmother it wouldn’t leave his hands,” the Blue Fairy told them.

The mermaid princesses gasped, looking as scandalized as the Blue Fairy could wish for.

“How do you know this?” Ben asked, stunned. He looked at Fairy Godmother.

“I didn’t say anything,” she said.

“It’s true then,” Mulan crossed her arms and sighed.

Ben had to stop himself from ripping his hair out or, more likely, shouting at his advisors to pull themselves together, right now, this instant, and listen to him. “This is the start of an entirely different conversation. My battle strategies can be critiqued later, if you insist. What matters now is Schwartzvald.”

“If we are not engaging the enemy and we are not obliging Maleficent then the region will burn,” Mulan pointed out.

Ben’s eyes closed for a moment with the weight of his next word. “Yes.”

Horror and disbelief washed over the room. But there was a dreadful kind of peace within him. He looked straight ahead and met no one’s eyes. “Schwartzvald will be lost. It’s a mortal wound which our people will likely not recover from. They will despise me for my weakness and many will lose heart - perhaps they are wise to. But I will lead until not one person wants to follow, I will fight with or without hope and all along pray I am doing the right thing. And that my people might somehow forgive me for my shortcomings.”

His voice nearly broke at the end and he bowed his head, wondering if his father was looking down at him, ashamed of his son. Quasimodo limped over to him and placed his large, rough hand in Ben’s own. “Sometimes evil is too swift and brutal to be stopped it. Remember, I was forced to watch a city burn too. It wasn’t my doing and this isn’t yours. I will follow you, your majesty.”

Ben bit the inside of his cheek to keep his emotions in check. He still had one friend here, at least.

Mama Odie slammed her stick into the floor and made them all jump. Her body shuddered as if a malicious spirit was needling her and whispering taunts in her ear. The snake around her shoulders writhed and hissed. But instead of the angry outburst Ben expected, Mama Odie moaned with her face mashed against the club of her stick.

“Where can this lead? Ah cannot see a good end. Towering Heights. Camelot. Now Schwartzvald. The world’s getting’ darker. And us too, are gettin’ darker and darker. So much death. Ah cannot see a good end. Not anymore.”

Blue Fairy leaned down and put her hands on the voodoo woman’s shoulders. “Odie, don’t lose faith. Not now. Good will win. It always wins.”

Odie shook her head. Blue Fairy exchanged glances with Flora and tried to escort Mama Odie out of the room with murmurs of “hush now, hush,” but the old woman moaned and dragged her feet and only with Fauna and Merryweather’s help did they finally lead her out.

“This is madness. We can’t hold one life above all the innocents in Schwartzvald,” Flora told Ben bluntly.

“Schwartzwald has long been doomed,” Mal said as she walked in, “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

She was dressed plainly, her hair was a mess and her words were hardly comforting but she somehow brought a wave of much needed strength with her and Ben straightened his back and steeled his will. Mal stood in the middle of the room with her hand on her hip and commanded all their attention.

“Maleficent was always planning to do this at some point and laying the blame at Ben’s feet now is just a happy bonus. She could barely conceal her intentions to destroy the city no matter what you do. I hope you weren’t thinking of accepting her demands?” she raised her eyebrow questioningly at Ben.

“Never,” was his quiet answer, and he was sad to see she was a little taken aback. Did she really think he could do that? Pack her off to that monster after everything they’ve been through together? Putting aside his personal feelings, she had more than earned her place amongst them.

“Well, good. So…what will you do?” she asked him.

“Jane, please prepare for a televised address to my subjects. I need to speak to them. I…I will do what I can to keep their hope alive. They must be so scared right now.”

“They won’t just be scared. They will be outraged at the villain kids’ presence here and disgusted that Auradonians are going to die for them,” Flora prophesised and with a sharp flutter of wings, turned her back and flew out of the room.

“Don’t listen to her Mal. I’ll lay out the whole truth about you and the others – I should’ve done it ages ago, before Maleficent could spew her poison.”

Mal waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. I need to talk to you. Alone.”

Mulan clearly wanted to hear more but bowed obediently to Ben and led everyone out; Jane walked but also started a quiet, heated discussion with her mother.

“Listen,” Mal stepped close to Ben, “Obviously, you’ve got this terrible thing going on and I should be helping because it’s a little my fault but unfortunately I have to be heartless and skip right past all your problems and go straight to my own thing.”

He blinked. “Okay. And that is?”

“Ben, the plan can still work.”

“What plan?”

“The old plan. We take out the Evil Queen.”

“The Evil Queen?”

Mal clicked her tongue impatiently. “Yes. All the reasons to remove her from Maleficent’s side still stand and we can still make it work.”

“How? We don’t even know where she is.”

A grin slid across her face. “But we do. Maleficent let it slip in Camelot while she was gloating as arrogantly as any two-bit villain. The Evil Queen is in Winter’s Keep.”

“Maleficent’s capital? That’s…Mal that lair is impenetrable.”

“Maybe. But we’ll never get another chance like this, we know Maleficent will be…occupied in Schwartzvald. As the thieves say on the Isle, 'If you didn’t want your house broken into, you shouldn’t have gotten one.'”

“The Evil Queen could’ve returned to Camelot by now.”

“I don’t think so. Maleficent would want her Queenie in her most secure fortress while she’s sticking her neck out like this. It’s what I’d do.”

Ben rubbed his brow. “But you can’t be sure. Mal, we have no intelligence at all on Winter’s Keep because no one has stepped foot on that land and lived to tell tales. Every inch is Maleficent’s domain and she will only be in the next region over. If she learns we’re trespassing…we’re dead. I can’t approve of a suicide mission.”

“I can do this. I have to do this,” she said with determination glittering in her eyes.

“My answer is no. It’s way too dangerous.”

“I wasn’t asking permission. I understand why you can’t go, I’m just telling you what’s happening.”

He was going to have a cardiac event any second, he swore it. “You’re thinking of going into Winter’s Keep alone?”

“’Course not. Evie’s coming, she’s with Dizzy right now whipping up two outfits. I hear its cold there. And I’ll take some of my goblins. They’ve never seen snow before, they’ll be delighted to join us.”

He wondered if her cavalier attitude was meant to aggravate him. “No one else?” he asked desperately.

Mal shook her head slow. “I don’t want to take Carlos from Jay right now. Jay needs him. Especially if Evie and I don’t make it out.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, too soft.

“Can I borrow the magic carpets again?” she asked.

He swallowed. “Mal. The carpets would freeze solid in those conditions.”

“Oh. Right,” she paused as she thought, “Then…I guess I’m asking Hook for a scenic cruise on his ship.”

“Take Hook and Gil with you,” he insisted.

“I have a feeling they’re not going to volunteer for this ‘suicide mission,” she said blandly with a smile.

He looked down as fresh shame bubbled up. “Mal, please rethink this. You…you can’t have The Wand. It cannot fall into Maleficent’s hands. If you go, it’s without magic.”

She raised her left palm and showed him the faint scar there. “Remember how I got this? I was just a baby then and I survived. I’ll survive now.”

The scar was a badge of courage for her and a reminder of what she was capable of with no magic. But it was also proof that she could get hurt. That as incredible as she was, she could bleed the same as he did.

“You’re really doing this?”

“Definitely.”

Without a thought, Ben surged forward and clasped her close against him. It was amazing how completely right it felt to have her in his arms. Head dipped over her shoulder, he closed his eyes tight and allowed himself to hear her startled breathing, feel her warm skin and smell her wild scent. Her smell had the voluptuous depth of pomegranates, exotic orchids and burnt amber. And yet the comparisons shortly fell apart and he couldn’t think of the scent as anything but belonging wholly to Mal. Its allure lifted The Beast’s head and had him pulling at his chains, not angry – but ready to be. Ready to rip apart anyone or anything who came between him and Mal. Ben coaxed him back down into the dark. The Beast wasn’t needed and he had no place in this tender moment.

He became aware that Mal was stiff as a board, arms awkwardly bent away from him, and he let go; he was probably just embarrassing her. And then he was embarrassed, remembering he was in his morning robe. Skin too hot, he busied his hands by checking the knot on his robe’s sash and when he looked up he was confident his cheeks were pink rather than damning crimson. Mal was eyeing him like he’d done something outrageous, like he’d summoned up a Tourney ball and thrown it at her head.

His chuckle was weak and pathetic and self-mocking. “First Towering Heights. Then Neverland and Camelot. Now this. One of these days, we should stand together to fight our enemy, yeah? Next time, don’t let me sit it out, no matter what I say.”

“It’s a date,” Mal chuckled awkwardly, her blush so pretty.

Ben smiled at her sadly. Instead of barring her way, railing against her decision or begging her to stay, which he had no right to do, he simply said, “Good luck Mal.” And when he watched her go, she took his heart with him.

                                                                                                                 333333333333333333333333333

“You’re insane,” Uma told Mal, “Or an idiot. A complete idiot.”

Mal put her hand to her head and feigned a dizzy spell. “Ah. Serious déjà vu. Isn’t that what you said when I first talked to you about coming to Auradon?”

“Yeah, and that’s been working out a treat. I’m told that when Schwartzvald is on fire we’ll be able to see the smoke cloud from here,” she gestured out the window in the hallway they stood in.

“Schwartzvald’s destruction is…unfortunate. But it provides us with an opportunity if we can sail to Winter’s Keep in time and for that I need – “

Smirking, Uma jabbed her finger into Mal’s chest. “You need me again. I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re oh so brilliant, a strategic genius – then how come I’m always the linchpin in the plan and without me you’d be nowhere? An even better question – how has a mastermind like you come to the point where you just have to storm a deadly icy hell with only a wannabe princess and half-brained goblins for back up?”

“You’ll be able to lord it over me when we’re on the ship, Mira. Just say the word and we can go.”

“I’m not mocking you for the fun of it. It’s a legitimate question,” she crossed her arms and studied her with an infuriating and knowing expression, “I think your mama gave you a beating and you’re scrambling to save face. You think this is a decent counter-attack but really it’s - how did Maleficent put it? Ah, yes, a ‘slap-dash attempt to get the better of her’.”

“You don’t know anything,” Mal ground her teeth.

Uma shrugged. “I know I’m not risking my skin or my crew or my ships for this. I know that for damn sure.”

She moved to brush past but Mal grabbed her arm and yanked her back, “That’s so funny,” she hissed in her face, “I had no idea you wanted to be the one facing off against the Mistress of Evil. You should’ve spoken up sooner. We can use your grand plan instead. Go on then. Tell me what to do about her.”

Uma glared, eyes churning pools of wrathful black. Mal dug her fingernails into her arm with deliberate cruelty and leaned in even closer. “You want a shot in the USA, you keep following my lead Shrimpy. I know you’d rather deal with me than my mother.”

The old animosity was back in full force as they stared each other down. Mal could see her weighing her pride and hatred of Mal against her cool logic. Luckily, reason won out.

Uma yanked her arm back and straightened her clothes and raised her chin. “We’ll drop you off and wait for you. But if I see the barest shadow of a dragon wing, we’re out of there and you’re on your own. I’m not dying for this idiotic scheme. After the colossal fuck-up that was Camelot, you have a lot to prove before I think you’ve got a real chance against that bitch.”

“Fine,” Mal spat, hiding her relief. She didn’t trust some fancy navy trained Auradonian to captain them to Winter’s Keep. No. Ironically enough, she would bet her life on Uma and Hook and the Jolly Roger II to get them there and, Lucifer willing, to aid their daring escape.

                                                                                                                       33333333333333333333

Jordan stood in front of the palace, juggling her microphone as she fiddled irritably with the sapphire pendant on her forehead that refused to lie flat today. Then her hair got caught in her head chain and she growled and held her microphone between her knees as she pulled her hair free and tucked it back and then her microphone slipped down and hit the ground. She stamped her foot and screamed a little.

“Relax. The studio said they didn’t need us straight away,” her cameraman said.

“Schwartzvald is going to be destroyed, Auradon is about to descend into mass panic and confidence in our king is at rebellious lows but I should relax because the studio will be airing the king’s address soon and doesn’t need my hard-hitting interview with empty air straight away,” she said in false cheery tones, “Thanks Jack.”

He sighed and lifted the camera. “Come on, I need to frame you up.”

She redid her ponytail and picked up her microphone. At his direction, she sidestepped left and right to get the best shot of her with the royal palace in the background. She tried to dissolve the scowl on her face and mentally prepare for her audience, but she couldn’t help feeling like this was a massive waste of time.

“Hey, Jordan.”

She turned, surprised. “Chad. Shouldn’t you be with King Ben right now?”

He stepped lightly to her with that old, charming grin he used to be known for. “Nah. He’s covered. But why aren’t you in the press room waiting with the rest of the reporters?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the only one working at A.N.N and apparently I don’t have the experience for something this huge.”

Chad crossed his arms. “So they put you here. In the garden?”

She bristled. “The palace is a symbol for stability and order and seeing it will help reassure the public.”

“Wow. You'll be nominated for a Fairytelling Media Award," he snorted.

“I’m not in this for the glory, Chad. I’m doing my bit for the war.”

“Puff pieces and propaganda,” he said, his grin not so charming now, “Honestly, I thought you were better than that Jordan. I guess keeping your head down and supporting real reporters is a contribution, in its way.”

He began to walk away from her.

Jordan was so furious she thought smoke might whistle out of her pointed ears. “If someone would only give me a damn chance, I’d prove I am a real reporter!”

He slowed then stopped. He half-turned towards her, hesitating. Jordan’s keen journalistic senses caught a whiff of intrigue and she immediately perked up. “What? What is it?”

He didn’t answer and she was in front of him in a flash. “Chad if you have an angle on what’s going on which you’d like to share…”

“No. No. I’m not allowed to say anything. It’s too important and you wouldn’t be interested anyway.”

“I’m interested! And I can handle it, whatever it is."

Chad hummed doubtfully. She reminded him of how long they’d known each other (most of their lives), how they trusted each other (though they’d never been friends), how she’d always thought he was the best and wisest of the royal guards (no). Whatever it took to wheedle out the scoop she desperately wanted. Finally, Chad slung his arm over her shoulders and propelled her further from Jack and spoke just above a whisper. “You can’t tell anyone. But there’s a secret mission underway by Maleficent and the Evil Queen’s daughters to sneak into Winter’s Keep.”

She gasped and turned to him with a thousand questions burning on her tongue and he shushed her, glancing around furtively. She knew he shouldn’t be telling a member of the press this and they could both get into serious trouble but she had to know more.

“Why? What do they hope to gain?” she asked.

“The Evil Queen is there and they’re going to assassinate her while Maleficent is Schwartzvald.”

“Unbelievable! What about the king? Is he going too?”

“No. He feels the danger is too great and doesn’t sanction this mission.”

Her mind raced. “But they’re going anyway. How brave! And defeating the Evil Queen would be a tremendous victory…”

A muscle spasm below Chad’s eye, then he smiled in agreement and shook his head admiringly. “They’ve got guts, I’ll give them that, and I wish we could do more to help them out. But orders are orders and we all have to stay here while they do the work for us.”

“That doesn’t seem fair. Why should they risk themselves and not us? It’s our war,” she frowned.

He patted her arm and she felt like a little girl who had amused an adult by acting too big for her age. “Hey come on, we all have our place. Mine’s protecting the king. And yours is here, where it’s safe, bucking up A.N.N’s audience for a few minutes.”

“Jordan! We’re on the clock,” Jack called over worriedly, “I know what I said, but the studio won’t wait forever.”

“Oh, hang the studio!” she fired back.

“Jordan, the only reason I’m telling you this is because I thought you might see them going to the harbor to board the Jolly Roger II,” Chad said, “Don’t badger them with questions or anything like that. They’ll say what I will: stay out of it.”

Having said all he wanted, he went without a goodbye back into the castle. She didn't move from where he left her and stared without seeing. Her palms were sweaty, her thoughts buzzing and her heart galloping; she was either going to throw up or spring like a deer. This is what it felt like to be a journalist tiptoeing up to a once-in-a-century story and making it hers.

“Jordan? Hell-o? Are we on?” Jack asked.

She gripped her microphone - and it felt as powerful as a lightning bolt - in one hand and traced her lips thoughtfully with the other, “Absolutely. Do you have any cold weather gear Jack? Two extra passengers are needed on a ship about to pull anchor and we can’t be late.”

Chapter Text

They sailed northward with remarkable speed, the sails of the Jolly Roger II full with pride and her enchanted timbers cutting through the sea. Free from Auradonian eyes, Uma had bonded to the helm and her role of captain instantly and snapped orders to pirates who jumped out of their skin to obey, running across the deck and scurrying up and down the rigging. Harry Hook acted as First Mate once again and grinning like a man on a gambler’s high he made sure the orders were followed exactly before strutting back to Uma’s side. Gil knew his place too, organizing the cannons and using his strength to do what those skinny bilge-rats needed ten men to do.

Mal was demoted to the background; she didn’t understand a quarter of what came out of Uma’s mouth. Ships weren’t her thing. Her only job was to make sure that she and Evie and the goblins didn’t get in the crew’s way.

Mal watched as they passed the westernmost point of Westerly and entered Triton’s Bay, sailing under an impenetrable blanket of dark clouds that swallowed the sun. She thought that if the pirates had been priests this was the moment they would have crossed themselves, so obvious was their ill-feeling. They were right: all too suddenly the Jolly Roger II entered a sea churned with resentment and which fought to repel them with hidden currents and a teeth-chattering wind that tore against the sails.

Uma shouted above the wind to reef sails and the pirates worked furiously to keep the ship on course. Mal put up her hood. Her breath came out in foggy plumes and her hands were numb inside her thick gloves. Mal and Evie clung to the taffrail and the eight goblins in turn clung to their legs and moaned and retched.

“We’ll make sailors out of you yet,” Mal told them.

“Mistress,” Blibtogs warbled, “Even your mother did not put her slaves at the mercy of the ocean. Have pity on us.”

“Nope. And trust me, Captain, when we make landfall you’ll be looking back at this moment with fond nostalgia.”

The first snowflake flew past Mal’s nose when a holler came from underneath their feet on the lower deck. CJ and Harriet Hook pulled two people out from the belly of the ship and sent them sprawling onto the deck to reveal them to all. Snarls sprung onto the pirates’ faces as they crowded around.

“Hey, careful, this equipment is expensive!” the man cradled a hefty film camera to him like it was his precious baby.

“Maybe so, but a stowaway’s life is cheap,” CJ tucked the point of her saber under his chin and his adam’s apple bobbed against the steel nervously.

Peering down, Harriet didn’t bare her sword but the eyebrow pierced with the small gold hook was arched for high drama. “What special kind of moron would you have to be to smuggle yourselves onto this ship and for this particular voyage?”

Hook was coming down the stairs from the quarterdeck when Mal finally shoved away enough pirates to see the stowaways clearly.

“I know her! I know you. You’re that nosy reporter.”

The young woman’s expression brightened and she jumped to her feet and pumped Mal’s hand. “Jordan Karran. Reporter from A.N.N. I brought my credentials but,” she lowered her voice, “I wasn’t sure pirates could read so good thing you recognized me.”

“Mal what the hell is going on?” Hook asked, glaring at the Auradonians.

She planted her hands on her hips. “Yes, Jordan, what is going on? Why are you here?”

Jordan cleared her throat. “My cameraman Jack and I want to come with you. We want to film alongside you and capture your heroics and expose them to the world when we return to Auradon. It’ll be fantastic! Just think of the headline: ‘Royal scandal or secret weapon? Mal defies critics!’”

Jordan’s hands were in the air as if holding up the words for the world to marvel at.

Mal turned to Hook. “To the brig?”

“To the brig,” Hook said and grabbed Jordan’s arm.

“Wait!” she cried, appealing to Mal, “You need me!”

Mal nearly laughed. In her mind reporters were like actors, their jobs were to talk shit and look pretty for the camera. “What possible use could you be to me?” 

“You ignored my offer of help once before, remember? I warned you that cutting out the public completely from what you’re trying to do would backfire on you and the king. And it has. Spectacularly,” Jordan finally wormed her way out of Hook’s grip and stood proud, “Maleficent is a technophobe but she has dominated the media and made it work for her. Are you going to stay silent and let her shape your image? Cause let me tell you, a single day with me could make her eat her words.”

No other argument could have swayed her and Mal wondered if Jordan knew it. Not letting her mother get away with anything – now that was her thing. Her second thought…was of Ben. Unwise, heart-on-his-sleeve Ben. Back in Auradon, he was defending her and her friends to a frightened and angry mob who didn’t want to hear it and she knew he’d shout and yell and holler for her until his voice gave out.

Evie leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Oh my gods. Em, I’m not wearing any make up. The one time I decide to go without and the whole of Auradon will see my face,” she sounded close to tears.

Hook also saw that Mal was going to capitulate and turned sulky. “They’re stowaways! Stowaways don’t get to prance freely about the deck!”

“Leave them alone, Hook,” Mal said and looked around her at the pirates, “Anyone who lays a finger on them will answer to me.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see what the Captain says about this!” and he went to whinge to Uma.

Mal cut off Jordan thanking her for this ‘great opportunity’ by pointing a finger in her face. “Listen to me. You will not get in our way. You will do everything I tell you to do without question. If you’re not killed today it will be because you obeyed my orders, understand?”

“Yes, absolutely, you won’t even know we’re here,” she agreed.

The cameraman looked nervous. “Killed? Um, we’re just doing our jobs…it’s not like we’re combatants. No one’s going to be looking at hurting us, right? Jordan?”

“Hey,” a goblin pulled on Jack’s sleeve, “Does this mean I get to be on tv?”

“You!” Blibtogs blustered, “Curdflip, last week you fell down two flights of stairs and landed in a flowerpot. If anyone is representing Her Majesty and the goblin race it will be me.”

“I was drunk!” Curdflip protested.

Another goblin tugged down Jack’s camera to peer into the lens. “Is this thing on? He-llo, Ma! Bet you’re sorry you kicked me out of the shed now, ain’t you?”

“Careful!” Jack yelped and grappled for his camera.

A crash out of nowhere and the whole ship rocked and they teetered on their feet like gymnasts trying to stick the landing. Uma yelled for Harriet to check for damage below deck and turned the ship’s wheel hard left. Hook cussed out the crew for being blind useless sea rats who should be drowned in a piss bucket. Mal went to the starboard side and looked over the taffrail. A…big white blob was in the water? The Isle folk’s experience with ice was limited to the sleet that fell miserably onto the island from time to time and Mal didn’t immediately recognize the small iceberg drifting past them. Mal leaned out as far as she dared and saw more packs of ice bobbing their way.

She turned and found a camera lens in her face, a beaming Jordan nodding encouragingly at her over Jack’s shoulder.

“Ugh,” Mal said and left them to go to Uma.

The wind was stirring the waters to be as treacherous as a sorcerer’s brew and Uma didn’t spare her a glance as she navigated. From the crow’s nest, the positions of the icebergs were called out and Uma adjusted their course accordingly. The snow was falling true now, tiny white specks that could’ve been thousands of dandelion seeds dancing in the air until they touched Mal’s skin and the illusion was broken. She shrank deeper into her winter coat.

“Magic,” Uma commented.

“Yeah, I feel it,” Mal said, looking up at the wretched sky.

“And you’re taking a sword to a witch fight,” she said with a light smirk.

“Feel like letting me borrow your seashell?”

“…Nah.”

“Shut up then.”

Uma laughed low.

Now that she knew the danger ice didn’t touch the Jolly Roger II again as Uma stood to one side and steered one handed, scrutinising the grim horizon. If the cold bothered her, she didn’t show it, in fact she was more at ease than Mal had ever seen her. Maybe because she was shortly to drop off her most bitter enemy into Maleficent’s capital and stay nice and cozy on her ship.

Mal straightened. “I see the beach.”

And if she squinted, she thought she could make out the lines of mountains in the mist. Anticipation and nerves warmed her from the inside out. Winter’s Keep.

“Spyglass,” Uma said and Hook dropped one into her hand. She held it up to her eye and at length she made a sound Mal couldn’t interpret.

“What?”

“Take a look,” Uma passed over the spyglass, “That’s no beach.”

Mal looked and saw more icebergs and beyond them a great crush of broken ice shoved between land and sea. Waves sprayed the jags and hills of ice but could not touch the shore, could not shift the massive sweep of ice the sea had rejected.

“Can’t catch a break,” Mal griped.

“End of the road,” Uma said, “The ship would be shredded into splinters if we went near. Time to call this whole thing off.”

“No. We can still make it,” Mal growled and tossed the spyglass back at Hook. “Ready a rowboat.”

The rowboat was at the stern of the ship and held by a crane-like device above the sea and the crew stood back and questioned Mal’s sanity quietly amongst themselves as the goblins piled in. In their summery garb, the pirates were shivering and blue-lipped and looked upon the mist-cloaked Keep, and all it might be concealing, with dread. She doubted even Uma or Hook with all their lethal edges could’ve made them go there.

Jordan and Jack hopped into the rowboat next and the boat swung and the goblins squealed. Gods. If they were going to be pissing themselves with fear this entire mission, Mal was going to order them into the ocean. Gil offered his hand and helped Evie in and she took her seat. Mal cracked her neck. This was it.

“I ‘spect that rock falling on my head is why I can’t see green anymore. So if you see your ma, give her a right hook for me,” Hook drawled, “Before you die horribly, of course.”

Mal turned to him and Uma. “She’s in Schwartzwald, having her own private bonfire party. We won’t be seeing her.”

“I hope not,” Uma said, “I really do Mal. For your sake.” And she winked, adjusted her captain’s hat and turned on her heel without further goodbyes. Harry blew a mocking blow kiss with the point of his hook and left too.

Mal sat on the bench closest to the bow. Gil worked the winch and the boat dropped smoothly down the stern and dropped them into the sea. Mal and Evie unlatched the hooks at either end of the boat and they were free. The two of them took the oars and braced their backs and started rowing and the Jolly Roger II watched them go.

Jordan pulled her microphone from her pocket and smiled at the camera pointed at her. “The adventure begins in earnest. We have no idea what we will face in Winter’s Keep. No one has made it out alive before. But that hasn’t stopped Mal and her loyal friend Evie from braving the most dangerous land known to man. Mal, how are you feeling right now?”

The camera swung to her and the black eye of the lens stared, unblinking. Mal stroked the oars, scowling.  

“You two aren’t planning to help row, are you?”

Jordan laughed a bit too brightly for her, as yet, non-existing audience. “So serious! As expected from the leader of this expedition. All business. Evie how about you? You must be nervous.”

Evie yelped and hid her face in her shoulder. “Turn that thing away from me! My pores are completely visible!”

Her oars dragged and Evie fumbled with them and the rowboat stalled. Mal hissed in displeasure. Evie yanked the oars up, saving them but spraying them all with freezing water.

“Sorry,” Evie winced.

Mal gritted her teeth and began rowing again and Evie copied her rhythm. The Jolly Roger II was getting both further away and more appealing.

Jordan recovered her step and looked into the camera again. “But let’s not forget our supporting cast! Goblins, can you talk about why you’re moving against Maleficent, the fairy to whom your entire species used to owe allegiance?”

The goblins at their feet were as low as possible so they wouldn’t even be able to see the hated ocean. They blinked up at Jordan and Jack, more green than usual.

Blibtogs swallowed thickly. “Uh. The Mistress of Evil is not our mistress. Our mistress is Mal. We’d do anything for her even…even…”

And he promptly vomited, his regurgitation spilling across the bottom of the boat. Jordan recoiled and Jack lurched sideways and displaced the goblins to avoid the spillage and the boat rocked side to side. Mal put up her oars.

“Everyone sit!” she roared.

All eyes on her, they heeled like dogs. She licked her lips and tried to dampen her temper. “Jordan. Jack. You will keep your word and be a silent presence. I’ve seen safaris on tv where the reporters act like unbreathing statues to avoid being eaten by lions. Find your way to that mind space. Minions, you throw up outside the boat or you can swim back to the ship. Evie, row. And no one moves their butt from their seat.”

The only sound then was the splash of the oars and the whirring wind. Mal’s eyelashes were encrusted with snowflakes. It was so cold that Blibtog’s vomit froze solid at their feet within minutes. It was so cold that it felt like she was inhaling ground up glass. It was so cold that Mal was worrying about whether she would be able to unlock her hands from the oars when she was done. At least rowing warmed her up a little, the trembling goblins could do nothing and wrapped their makeshift winter rags tighter about themselves in a futile effort.

Evie’s strength faltered and Jordan offered to take over. Mal nodded her assent and the two girls swapped seats. The camera lifted to Evie’s face and she was too exhausted to panic and gave a little wave and a smile.

“Iceberg ahead, on my left,” Jordan puffed.

Mal stroked the oars and leaned back, looking over her shoulder to see the obstacle. They paddled to the right and circled around the iceberg shaped like a giant sagging armchair.

Jack wiped his lens yet again and shot some film Jordan’s way. She smiled wryly, “I hope this doesn’t count as a journalist interfering with the story. Snow White will have a thing or two to say to me huh? Sorry, viewers.”

Then smaller packs of ice came, some looking exactly like dreamy-soft pillows, and didn’t stop coming and after seeing how such a comparatively small iceberg had impacted Uma’s ship, Mal wasn’t fool enough to dismiss them or underestimate what these runts could do to their little rowboat.

She craned her neck to keep a sharp eye out for the white devils. But the sea became rougher and soon it took all her energy and focus to keep rowing and not let the sea control their boat. Jordan called out there was another big one and Mal gritted her teeth and ignored the ache in her arms and burning of her spine and followed her directions.

They tried hard, but they passed close to the seven-foot-tall ice ball, too close for comfort. And just how dangerous this situation was finally hammered itself into Mal’s brain.

Maybe they would never reach the broken ice field. The ocean turned into slurry from too much snow and ice and dipping the oars into it was creeping from challenging into impossible.

“We’re nearly there. Keep going,” Evie encouraged.

 Mal grunted and doubled her efforts.

A spire-like iceberg loomed and Mal and Jordan pushed and pulled the oars through the icy soup and she felt the entire weight of the rowboat and its passengers in the burn of her muscles.

A wave rolled and carried them along in the blink of an eye, the boat’s side missed the iceberg by inches but one of Mal’s oars slammed against the ice and she gasped as it was ripped from her hand. Evie stood and leaned over the side to retrieve it while the boat swayed uncertainly.

Mal didn’t think, she abandoned the other oar and jumped over and grabbed Evie’s coat and dragged her down by falling to the bottom of the boat and squashing a few goblins. A wave rolled again and this time the boat was well and truly thrown against the iceberg.  

The timbers of the rowboat shrieked. The sea propelled them off and past the iceberg and they looked to find themselves crowded in by taller, bigger versions. Goddammit. Mal got to her hands and knees and the goblins under her cried in relief before they noticed the water trickling down the interior of the boat.

Blibtogs, with a rare spark of initiative, shoved his hands and feet against the planks to try and plug up the leaks and his brethren followed suit.

“Help her!” Jack demanded desperately of Mal.

Teeth gnashing, Jordan was trying to steer the boat alone and take them back out the way they came. Mal looked for her oars but they were gone, lost in the slurry. The boat spun and shuddered as it was tortured by the roiling sea.

“What do we do?” Jack yelled, his camera swinging around.

“Take us to that iceberg Jordan!” Mal pointed to the single one that wasn’t shaped like crazy abstract art and had a flat top.

Jordan’s eyes were blown wide with fear and Mal wasn’t sure if she was sensible enough to obey. Mal clambered over Jack and pushed Jordan aside and took over the oars. She ploughed the oars into the water, bringing them up and down, up and down in as powerful strokes as she could muster.

She glanced up at the iceberg when they reached it. It would either be their saviour or their gravestone. Water sloshed at their feet; they had no time to waste.

“Can you make it?” Mal shot at Evie.

Evie reached over while Jordan held the back of her coat. Quick bursts of steam blew out her nose as her gloves scrabbled on the smooth, smooth ice.

“I can’t!” Evie cried.

“Let me try,” Jordan said and they switched places but Mal knew it wouldn’t work. They needed help. Mal thought of The Wand. If she had it now, she could…

But she didn’t have The Wand, she scolded herself. So think, loser.

She brought in the oars and stepped around her goblins while they pressed against the wood as if they could behave as quick-drying superstrength goblin-glue. She picked up the long coil of mooring line fixed to the boat and looked at the iceberg again. But no. There was no way to attach the rope to the iceberg without an anchor. Her hand went to her sword but she discarded the idea before it fully formed; her blade would break before it penetrated that ice. Even if by some miracle she could fix the line to the ice it would have to be able to support the weight of at least one person…

“Hopeless!” Jordan exclaimed, finally giving up. She hugged herself, the jewel on her forehead trembling as she looked around like she was realizing where she was for the first time – far from home, on what might as well be another planet. With only the likes of Maleficent’s spawn for her to rely on.

Mal’s gaze fell onto her smallest goblin in her whole minion army, a bat-eared knobby-kneed cretin called Snulskip. Plastered against the belly of the boat he looked up at her enquiringly. “Mistress?”

She crouched down and yanked him to his feet and the leaks he’d been covering gushed. “Uh, Mistress?” he asked again as she wound a section of mooring line around his middle and knotted it. She picked him up and looked into his bulbous eyes. “Grab hold tight, Snulskip.”

And she flung him with all her strength off the boat. He sailed through the air and his scream reached a note only birds and opera singers could usually belt out until he smashed against the iceberg and got his breath knocked out of him. But his instincts didn’t fail him, he dug deep into the ice with all four clawed hands and feet and latched on like a greedy tick dropped on a mountain of flesh, not having moved an inch from where he’d landed. She had her anchor.

Stunned, everyone on the boat gawked at Mal like she’d lost her mind.

“Climb, Snulskip!” she shouted up.

The goblin didn’t move.

“You can do it! Come on!”

“Wretch, your queen has spoken! You dare not fail her or us!” Blibtogs shouted.

Thus emboldened by his mistress and his captain, Snulskip skittered up the ice with no real difficulty and reached the flat top.

“Well done, now hold fast!” She grabbed the goblin she judged to be the lightest and passed him the mooring line. “Your queen commands you to climb.”

The goblin gulped. She pulled the line to give it some tension and the goblin wrapped his legs around it and hung upside down as he pulled himself up the rope, whimpering at the angry sea below. Mal urged him to hurry and Jordan took the oars again to steady the boat.

Now there were two goblins at the top. “Hold the line!”

She urged another goblin to go and then another, and they joined the rest and settled into the ice with their tough little talons and worked together.

Blibtogs was the last goblin. “But what about you?”

“We’re next, now quick!”

The boat was filling fast.

Blibtogs was a tubby, bloated goblin and climbed the rope with far less grace than the others. But when he was at the top he planted his feet and grasped the line with the determination of a heavy weight champion.

“E, you first,” Mal told her gently.

Evie rubbed her gloved hands together before grabbing the line at the highest point she could reach and swinging off the boat. The soles of her boots slammed against the ice and hand over hand on the rope she walked nearly parallel to the ocean and scaled the iceberg. The goblins hissed and growled and their limbs shook but they didn’t break from their position. Mal breathed easier when Evie clasped the ledge and pulled herself up and over.

The waters swelled and the boat moved and ground against the iceberg. Mal cursed and went to Jordan still struggling with the oars.

“Forget those! Go!” Mal pulled her up and pushed her to the rope.

With surprising agility Jordan shimmied up the rope and she was in no danger of being dropped now that Evie was helping the goblins. The sea withdrew and the gap between the boat and the iceberg widened again. Mal was standing in knee-height freezing water that found every split in Mal’s winter gear, paining her to distraction. The boat had only seconds left. Mal turned to Jack to see him astride the bench, camera poised and filming everything.

“Are you serious right now? Leave that hunk of junk and climb!” Mal ordered.

The idiot didn’t leave it, he slung his camera onto his back by its strap, wiped his nose, took the line and then stopped, seeming at a loss for what to do. Mal pushed him off the boat. He yelled and knocked against the iceberg with an umph. He shot Mal a betrayed look and then squirmed up the rope as fast as a sloth. Thankfully, Jordan and Evie sped things along by digging in their heels and hoisting him up.

The mooring line was taut now as the others held most of the rope in hand. But the boat was sinking and would pull her friends down to the sea if they didn’t let go. Mal heard Evie calling for her. Water slipped over the sides and rushed into the boat and her brain shouted for her to get out. She leapt with arms outstretched.

She caught the line but it almost instantly was yanked down. Her feet splashed the water and she cringed and the others cried out as the slurry-filled sea sucked the rowboat in. Mal pulled her body up and crossed her ankles around the rope and rushed up the line, her life literally hanging by a thread. She heard the goblins’ claws screeching against the ice and the strained noises of Jordan and Evie as they were all dragged to the very edge.

Mal twisted her body and reached out with one hand for the ledge. Jack leaned down – for Lucifer’s sake, his camera was on his shoulder and filming again – and seized her wrist and she dropped from the line and hauled herself up with his help.

Jordan, Evie and the goblins let go of the line and collapsed on their backsides, spent – but they’d forgotten that Snulskip was still tied up in the rope. He whipped across the ice and was set to be dragged down to join their lost vessel but Mal hadn’t forgotten him, her sword was already out and she brought it down in a great swing and severed the line. He skidded the last few inches to rest the pads of his feet on the broad of her sword. He flopped over, belly heaving, and with claws chipped and bloodied he stared up at Mal with something wild behind his eyes.

She sheathed her sword and pulled him to his feet and untied the length of rope from his middle. The goblin was shaking badly. She patted Snulskip’s head and he worked up a sickly smile.

“You ride with me,” Mal said and brought him up to sit on her shoulders.

She turned and everyone looked at each other. They were still alive.

They turned towards Winter’s Keep. Snow tried to blind them as they gazed out at the broken land they’d have to brave. If Hell ever really did freeze over it would be exactly this: a jagged perimeter of icebergs guarding an icy waste dominated by thick rolling mist. There was no life. There wasn’t even beauty in the spectacle. Just an increasingly strong impression of a magic which had been distorted and manipulated, stretched beyond its true shape until only the ugliness was left, to force it into the most brutal definition of frozen.  

Chapter Text

A hazy veil was cast by the falling snow and the ill-fated wind was inescapable. The cold, unforgiving sea waited below for their slightest misstep between the gap to the next iceberg. Mal went first. Snulskip hugged her hooded head and Mal gripped the small legs draped over her shoulders and hopped over. She skidded a little on landing. She called for the others and waited with arms open to catch them if they fell. One by one they came. When Jack jumped he slipped but instead of working to balance himself his first instinct was to hoist his camera up and protect it from a crash. Jordan saved him from plunging feet first into the sea. A fiery lecture about priorities was burning on Mal’s tongue but she settled on a glare. Her energy would be better spent on getting them on solid ground as soon as possible.

Planning their course carefully, they hopped and jumped and clambered from one frozen rock to another.

“This is like the stepping stones game I used to play when I was little. Until I grazed my knee and Mom banned me from ever playing it again,” Evie commented.

“Because of a graze?” Jordan questioned.

“Oh yes. She was heavily invested in my skin. Our whole future depended on it. What would she have done if I’d gotten a scar?” she shivered from more than cold.

“Still. It must be strange to be here. Given the nature of our mission…” Jordan said delicately.

Evie bristled. “What do you mean?”

“This is hardly the time for an interview,” Mal said while they perched on top of an icy peak and she eyed their next step.

“You’re not conflicted at all about what you’re about to do?” Jordan asked, camera hovering over her shoulder with the lens locked onto Evie.

“This is war,” Evie said stiffly, “We’ve chosen our sides.”

“She’s still your mother.”

“Hey!” Mal stared hard at Jordan, “Did you know that a goblin’s favorite flavored popsicle is nosy journalist?”

Jack and Jordan glanced down at rows of teeth bared in sharp goblin grins. Blibtogs belched for extra effect. Mal glanced at Evie, she was looking down and her hood hid her expression. Mal sighed and hopped to the next iceberg.

The crust of ice beneath her broke and slid away. She fell hard and the air was knocked out of her, stunned, she wasted a precious second that she could’ve used to grab hold of something. She felt herself sliding down and Snulskip’s squeal rang in her ear and his claws pierced her hood and threatened to pierce her skull. She finally kicked herself into gear and clawed at the ice. Her left foot hit a ridge and it slowed her descent enough to allow her to grab a handhold. She muscled her way up and Evie was there waiting to help, looking much more scared than Mal had had time to feel through the whole thing.

When Mal was back on her feet, Evie coaxed Snulskip into easing his grip and halt the lobotomizing process. The others crowded around.

“Are you okay?” Jordan asked.

Pain radiated up her elbow and it felt like someone had tap danced on her ribs. Served her right for being a clumsy fool. “I’m fine.”

Blibtogs poked Jordan in the leg. “Don’t ask stupid questions human. My mistress is the toughest around.”

Mal’s abused ribs groaned when she walked and she hid her wince. Evie offered to take the lead but Mal shot her down and began the perilous game of stepping stones again. They were close to the beach, they had to keep this up just a little while longer.

She misjudged the distance from one iceberg to another, or perhaps the sea had shifted the iceberg by the time they reached it, and she realized they couldn’t make it. Annoyed, she lead them back and chose a different path.

The iceberg they had to get over was very tall and mishappen and she liked the look of it because there were many spots to use as a handhold. After this they’d be within a stone’s throw of the beach. Stepping onto it easily enough, they began to climb. The goblins skittered up like ice spiders and had to pause for the humans – and fairy – to catch up.

Mal’s body twinged painfully as she pulled herself up, jamming her hands into every crevice to use as leverage.

“I have to pee,” Snulskip said mournfully into her ear.

“You can hold it,” Mal answered through gritted teeth.

She reached the top and the blasting wind greeted her, she straddled the ice and rubbed her hands for warmth – there was nothing she could do for her frozen feet - and waited with the others as Jordan encouraged and advised Jack, struggling in unsurprising last place, on his climb up.

He crawled beside them and sat and his sucking wheeze was a broken vacuum cleaner’s. He held up a finger to beg for a minute’s respite. Mal gave it, only because she was sure he’d faint and die on the way down if she didn’t and theoretically that was a bad thing.

When Mal deemed him sufficiently recovered she led the expedition down, slow and cautious. Cheek against the ice, she felt with her boots for a firm foothold before easing her way down. In her periphery she saw the goblins descending faster, punching the ice with their claws without difficulty.

The iceberg shifted, and then events happened within a pitiful few seconds after Mal realized it wasn’t just shifting, it was rolling over. Snulskip nicked her cheekbone with a claw as he clung to her -  she heard the startled cries of the others - she glanced down at the sea that seemed to be sucking in the iceberg and like the rest made some movements to scramble up the berg. But it was an insane impulse, the iceberg was gaining too much speed.

“Jump!” Mal screamed.

At the bottom were the goblins, whose instincts told them to cling on and all will be well. As their mistress’s command rang out, most shed instinct and blindly flung themselves off the iceberg and dropped hard onto the next. Two small forms – Mal knew them to be Bluryack and Peentong – held on. Bluryack was soundly crushed between the icebergs and Peentong missed that fate to be carried under the iceberg and drowned.

The iceberg kept tipping, unstoppable, and water rushed up to meet them and Mal could only work to save herself. She jumped and fell onto the other iceberg in an ungainly heap, dislodging Snulskip, and hurried to look back. Evie landed on her hands and knees near the edge and Mal crawled to her. Jordan thumped beside them in an instant but Jack did not quite make it, he hit the edge and was sliding off as he madly groped at the ice until his hands were seized by Mal, Evie and Jordan. They pulled him and screamed as the tallest peak of the rolling iceberg impacted with their ice shelf and snow and shattered ice exploded over them. They shook themselves off and scuttled backwards.

Mal belatedly noticed the thunderous sound of the water’s bubbling froth. It quietened as the iceberg slowed and settled uneasily, it’s shape entirely altered now into erratic peaks and falls, until there was only the grinding of treacherous ice.

“Keep going!” Mal urged, she wouldn’t allow shock to stiffen their limbs and pin them there, not for a minute. She didn’t know if the iceberg they stood on would flip without warning too. She shoved at Jack and Jordan, pulled Evie along by the hand for a stride or two and swept up Snulskip and plunked him back on her shoulders. The other goblins were close on her heels, softly whimpering.

They jumped down to a low, flat iceberg which in turn led to a narrow opening between two great blocks they had to slide through one at a time. And then they were in the thick of the ice crush, a chaotic pile up of bodies of ice. Mal hoped the ground was solid and they were finally safe from the sea.

Slower now, they scaled over the broken land. There were many bursts of ice shards barring their way like an infantry of pikemen. But there were also wedges of hard packed snow piled high, and it was hard work to clamber over, but better than trying to walk through what amounted to a forest of broken glass.

Mal stopped and looked back. The icebergs blocked the view of the ocean and gnashed at the dismal sky with their white teeth. Bluryack had liked to brag about his many girlfriends and some of them may have actually existed. Peentong had hated horror stories and had endured relentless teasing once his fellow goblins found out. They were both gone.

She noticed she was being observed and her upper lip curled back.

“Get that camera out of my face,” she snarled and barreled past Jack.

Snulskip leaned over her head and his floppy ears and buggy eyes filled her vision. “I’m… I’m sorry I cut you, majesty.”

“Oh,” she raised her hand to her face but couldn’t feel anything through her glove, “Is it bad?”

“It was bleeding a bit but the blood’s frozen now.”

She grunted.

He blinked his upside-down eyes at her and then sat back after a gentle pat to her head. She pretended not to feel it.

The broken ice leveled out into a desolate snowy plain. But this was no relief; they stood there a moment and took stock of the vast emptiness fringed by ghostly mist. The wind was a relentless god trying to peel back this white mantle with his bitter breath and it blasted in their faces and pushed them to turn around and go back.

“I’m no longer surprised that no spy or soldier has ever reported back,” Evie spoke loud above the howling.

Mal gestured to the icescape. “It’s meant to wear us down and weaken us.”

“I can’t say it won’t work,” Jordan said, tucking her hands under her armpits and looking at Mal worriedly, gauging how much confidence she had.

“It’s a long walk in a bit of shitty weather, that’s all. Just stick close together. We’ll take it one step at a time,” she told them all. The goblins either nodded or were shuddering hard. Mal took the lead of course and gripped Snulskips legs like the straps of a backpack and plunged headfirst into the wind.

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If Mal thought she’d been cold before her naivety had been quickly dispelled. Cold nipped at her red cheeks, scoured her sore eyes, burnt her lips to flaky crispness and sunk into her lungs like a deadweight. When she glanced back the others were as wretched, but huddling up behind her provided a modicum of protection as they bent their backs and marched against the gales.

The first break they’d taken Mal realized it was to be the last. There was no rest to be had from kneeling on the hard snow and feeling muscles spasm in pain while the drag of fatigue tempted you to lie down and never move again. The only blessing was the water in their canteens enchanted to keep from freezing, so they had a drink and continued on.

Mal had no idea how far they had ventured into the glittering ice-fields and when it would be behind them.

If you knew, you might lose heart, she thought darkly.

The others had lost their voices, as if sparing one word was an extravagant use of energy, but Mal shouted at them to keep going, that they were nearly there, only a little further, she was sure. How much was snatched away by the wind and went unheard she didn’t know. Jack had long ago given up filming, the camera was strapped to his back as he staggered behind the goblins with his dead eyes fixed on his feet. The goblins marched steadily enough but were an alarming gray-blue color and Mal could hear Snulskip’s chittering teeth. Evie and Jordan were right behind her, their faces scrubbed raw and cringing against the elements.

Jack was buffeted by the wind and fell once, then twice. The third time he refused to let Jordan haul him to his feet.

“I can’t! I can’t, I need to rest,” Jack moaned.

“No. We need to keep moving,” Mal called back.

He shook his head dismally. “I’m telling you I can’t move. Give me fifteen minutes, please. I can’t take it anymore.”

Mal saw his fear and exhaustion reflected in everyone’s eyes – and his longing to give up spreading in their minds as swiftly as a contagion. Mal yanked out her sword from her scabbard and stalked towards him.

“Get up,” she growled, eyes burning menacing green, and the tip of her sword thrust an inch from his widening eye, “Get up or I start cutting off pieces of you to use as a trail of breadcrumbs. That way you’d actually be worth something.”

“Hey! You can’t talk to him like that!” Jordan moved to grab her but Mal pointed the blade right at her chest.

“Shut it, miss reporter. Freedom of speech is only for people whose name starts with ‘M’, ends in ‘L’ and has an ‘A’ in there somewhere,” Mal said. Jordan put some distance between her and the sword, staring hard at Mal. Mal swung her blade back to Jack.

“Up, you little weasel.”

It might’ve been tears, not frost, on Jack’s cheeks but she didn’t care, he wobbled but got his feet under him again. She corralled him with her blade and once he was moving at an acceptable pace she sheathed it again.

“Watch him and make sure he doesn’t fall again,” she ordered Jordan, the threat implied. Jordan glared but obeyed and they grimly resumed their march.

They walked into the thick of the mists before they knew it. The light grew even dimmer and the world shrank drastically; it was only their pitiful band and the snow beneath their feet that existed here, the rolling vapors had devoured even the immensity of the landscape. They tightened their formation as they walked blind. Evie’s hand found hers and didn’t let go. Mal’s heart thumped anxiously against the lining of her coat as she looked around for the faintest hint of something, anything, to work towards.

A single step, no different than any other, and the roaring wind ceased and left a shocking silence and a slight ringing in Mal’s ears. She stood still, amazed. The mist was a heavy and unmoving blanket. She looked behind them where somewhere the wind still roared and thundered over the ice-field. She felt no desire to go back even if they were about to step off the edge of the world.

“What’s going on your majesty?” Snulskip asked with a mix of dread and hope, “Is it over? Are we there?”

She exchanged looks with Evie. Freeing her hand to have it ready for her sword Mal strode forward and abruptly stumbled out of the mist. She stared. The others released themselves from the mist and stopped and stared too.

They were at the entrance of a village half-buried in snow and which lay at the feet of proud white mountains. The silence was profound and that the village had long been uninhabited was unmistakable. Above the gentle slopes of the snowy roofs of the village an enormous ice palace clung to a mountain and glittered. It was terrible and beautiful, like a shattered diamond.

Winter’s Keep, Maleficent’s foremost stronghold.

Now came the hard part.

Chapter Text

“Pretty,” Snulskip murmured as he sat on Mal’s shoulders and stretched his claw out to graze the snowflakes.

Mal sneezed. “Oh yeah. Lovely.”

The snow didn’t exactly fall in the village, it sort of hung there, suspended, until displaced by their warm bodies and then it drifted and swirled in their wake before settling again. Mal suspected that’s not how snowflakes usually behaved. Enchantment was rich in the air.

There were no roads to travel that weren’t covered by snow and the only sound in the entire village was the crunch of powder beneath their feet. It was almost serene, this white wonderland. How the banks of white hugged the houses, and the tinkling icicles trimmed the rafters and how the gardens were preserved by the frost into everlasting bloom.

But not one small bird investigated the trees and Mal bet the squirrels, rabbits and mice were dead in their burrows. This was winter without the promise of new life in spring. Perhaps it offended her fairy sensibilities; the wrongness of it was making Mal shiver from more than cold. This town may have kept its pretty exterior but it was still a wasteland.

Evie touched her arm and drew her attention to the others. Jordan was practically holding Jack up and the goblins were looking longingly at the houses. Blibtogs wasn’t bullying his troops into line and stuck close to Mal with a kind of white-knuckled determination. Mal looked into Evie’s face and saw how tired she was.

“Okay. We’ll find some cover and take a break,” Mal said.

She tried the doorknob of one of the houses but it was frozen rock-solid and she couldn’t pick the lock. She didn’t think any of them could break the door down so she led them around the side, found the living room and broke a window. They climbed in. The street was as cold as a villain’s marriage but inside it was a little warmer and Mal quickly hung a throw she found on an armchair over the broken window to keep in the heat.

“Thank you Mistress for the high honor,” Snulskip said shyly and climbed down her, “When the gobs back in Auradon find out they will be so jelly they’ll kill me…so um, let’s keep this between us, okay?”

She nodded him off and slid down the wall and the others sank gratefully onto the couches.

Holding her legs and resting her head on her knees, Mal closed her eyes and meditated on their situation. They were weakened, but you didn’t always get the option of fighting in peak condition.

A long time ago Mal accidentally released a prisoner of her mother’s. Maleficent hadn’t deigned to tell her a minion had displeased her and that she had punished him by locking him in the chest where Mal kept her spray paint. Maleficent had probably forgotten all about him. The moment Mal had lifted the lid he had exploded out of the chest, half-mad with terror and hunger and pain, and punched her so soundly she saw stars. He had stood over her, five times her size, all too willing to murder so he could escape.

The struggle had left her with more bruises than she could count but in the end she had outwitted him and sprayed him with paint right in the eyes and sent him howling to his knees.

Huddled against the wall, she told herself the odds were no worse then than they were now. What mattered was coming up with her next clever move. And forgetting it would’ve been smarter not to have come to Winter’s Keep at all.

“Apologies for the interruption, but due to, uh, challenging weather conditions, we had to stop filming. But we’re back now. We’re regrouping in an abandoned house, in sight of Maleficent’s ice fortress. Mal, can you give us some insight into your thoughts?” Jordan asked from across the room.

Mal opened her eyes and lifted her head. Jordan was holding her microphone and next to her, Jack was strewn on the couch like a boneless corpse but had strength enough to balance the camera on his stomach and aim it wearily at Mal with a blinking red light.

She groaned. “I thought we were done with that.”

“It’s why we’re here,” Jordan gestured to Jack and herself, straightening her back, “I’m a reporter. We’re not giving up. I made you and Auradon a promise and I’m going to keep it. The world’s going to see what happens today.”

Mal rubbed her eyes. “You want to know what I’m thinking?”

“Please.”

“I think it’s cold. I think it’s fucking cold and I hate it, I hate snow and ice and frozen water, it fucking sucks, and hell would be preferable right now unless it freezes over like everyone dares it to – in which case, fuck it and anyone crazy enough to like snow. Fuck winter.”

Evie didn’t so much as twitch in her armchair or open her eyes. “You’ve missed your calling as a preacher Em.”

Blibtogs nodded seriously. “Beautiful words of wisdom, Your Majesty.”

“As well as setting a record for the number of bleeps our editors will have to put in,” Jordan grumbled.

The idea of making life more difficult for some fat-assed drones safe in their offices made Mal crack a smile.

Something big moved outside. No, not big. Gigantic. The window to her left was completely eclipsed by the shadow it cast into the living room. Mal pressed her back against the wall and drew her legs tight to herself and mouthed at the others to get down. Jordan and Jack buried themselves in the couch. The goblins scrammed behind and under the furniture. Evie remained oblivious, peaceably resting in her armchair. Mal didn’t dare make a sound, not even to warn her.

Gripping the pommel of her sword, Mal edged along the wall and turned her head, trying to catch a glimpse of what was out there without being seen. But she could see only white.

She didn’t hear it move, but light came through the window again. She waited fifteen seconds while straining her ears for the slightest sound before she crawled to Evie’s armchair and put a hand over her mouth. Evie’s eyes snapped open and Mal indicated she be silent. Evie nodded. Mal leaned over to whisper in her ear. “There’s something out there. A big something. It’s right by the house.”

Evie joined her in crawling back to the window and they crouched and looked outside. They saw nothing to alarm. One could almost fool themselves into thinking it was perfectly safe out there.

“We have to leave,” Mal said, reluctantly.

“What?” Jack whisper-shouted. “Why? That thing is still out there!”

“And I don’t want it to come back and for us to be stuck hiding here. We still have a job to do.”

“It could be a man-eating troll!”

The goblins looked disdainfully at Jack and there were more than a few eyerolls, unimpressed by his theory.

“Just ten more minutes to make sure it’s really gone, then we can go,” Jack pleaded.

Mal chuckled low at him. “I don’t fancy still being here when Maleficent returns. Do you?”

He digested the thought and turned off-color.

She went to the broken window and peeled back the throw that covered it. Still seeing nothing, she gestured for them to follow and went back outside first. She bit her lip anxiously. There was unblemished snow where there should’ve been a monster’s footprints. Whatever it was it hadn’t left a trace of its passing.

They kept low as they ran to the fence, through the gate and back out to the street. They stayed on the sidewalk and Mal would’ve loved to know exactly what kind of creature they should be keeping an eye out for as they made their way through the village.

They reached a fork in the road and Mal paused to weigh their options and the camera went smack into the back of her head. “Ow!” She whirled around on Jack, “What is wrong with you?” she shoved the camera away and Jack yelped in protest.

“Careful!” Jack cried.

“If only!” Mal snapped back, shoving the camera away from her again. Blibtogs promptly kicked Jack in the shin, making him yelp again and Jack had to hop from foot to foot to avoid more goblin kicks that came his way.

“Please don’t fight we need to work together,” Jordan said.

“No, we don’t. I’d rather work with a sea monkey.”

“Mal,” Evie sighed.

“What? He’s useless. Am I wrong?” Mal turned to Evie just as the hill of snow over Evie’s shoulder shivered. Then the snow stretched its arms and yawned. Mal grabbed Evie and dragged her behind a tree, the goblins took the hint and dived for their own hiding spots and Jack and Jordan realized something was up almost a second too late and squeezed behind the tree too. Jordan opened her mouth to ask a question but Mal put her finger to her lips.

She peeked around the trunk as the hill that was not a hill lifted its face and blinked sleepily to reveal empty eye sockets. Like the erlking it had no eyes to speak of but still Mal felt its gaze as the snow monster looked about for what had disturbed its slumber. Curiosity disappointed, it opened jaws molded to be as lethal as a bear trap and yawned once more before curling up again and going perfectly still.

The others had looked and seen it too and were thrilled at finding the country cousin of an eldritch horror not twenty feet from them. Just thrilled.

Mal deduced it was not some local magical beast but a magically constructed monster. Even the strangest and most primordial of magical creatures like the erlking needed to breathe and when this thing yawned no breath had disturbed the snowflakes in the air. It’s yawning and blinking and such was mere mimicry to life.

Mal searched their surroundings. And now that she knew what to look for, she spied another monster. At first glance, it resembled a huge snow pile against the side of a house but it was actually a monster, its bulky arms resting between its splayed legs, its back braced against the house as its head lolled forward in sleep.

How many mounds and banks of snow had they passed on the road had been these sentinels? She would never know. Mal closed her eyes briefly to savor her stupidity – of course, of course the quaint little village would be salted with terrors, this was her mother they were talking about – and then opened them and gestured and glared for absolute silence and lead her people away.

Around every corner there was almost always a snow monster. Most of them were sleeping and they passed those with dread, Jack’s camera trembled terribly when he had them in frame, but the crunch of powder from their footsteps wasn’t enough to rouse them. They stumbled across more active ones, and these slowly meandered about the village, bored and seeming in search of something to do.

One was taller than the tree he was shaking with his giant icy paws and it watched with the curiosity of a dumb child as the icicles broke from the branches and fell like silver rain. The monster hummed in satisfaction. Mal didn’t feel like being shook to pieces so backpeddled from that street fast before the happy snowflakes swirling around them drew its attention.

They made it to the other side of the village and there in the open, as dramatic as an opera set piece, was an elegant staircase of pure blue ice sweeping up from the ground and then swerving to skim the rugged mountainside, going up and up until the steps reached the ice castle. It was the only way in. And standing guard at the bottom of the stairs stood the biggest snow monster yet.

They found a hedge row to hide behind and properly survey just how royally screwed they were. This sentinel was not interested in naps and was crafted to be a straight-out thug. Its blocky arms were crossed over the wide plane of its chest, its head was almost too small for its snow body and an ominous scowl was permanently etched on its face.

“Okay. What do we do about that?” Jordan asked beside Mal.

“Not sure,” Mal admitted. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“Maybe we should go home?” Jack put forward.

Mal, Evie and Jordan turned their heads a little to give him serious side-eye.  

“What? We’re not even allowed to joke anymore?” he grumbled and ducked his head to peer into his camera and hide.

“We need a distraction,” Evie declared.

“I don’t think your sexy dance will work on this one,” Mal said.

“I don’t think any kind distraction will prevent that thing from seeing us climb up. And once it sees us…” Jordan worried.

Mal rubbed her hands together to warm them - and to plot. “We have to get rid of it then. Using our heads rather than our swords, preferably.”

“We’re warriors in spirit,” Evie assured Jordan, “And I for one would like it to strictly remain in spirit. That thing’s huge.”

“You forget, I’m your devoted minion Mistress,” Blibtogs appealed to Mal, “Give the word and unleash our goblin might upon your doomed adversary!”

Her ‘goblin might’ looked one degree away from hyperthermia. Mal turned away from him and pinched her brow. “I need to think. What could take this thing out?”

“Fire,” Jordan suggested doubtfully, looking around at the bleak village.

“Maybe we could find gasoline?” Evie added.

“Yeah,” Jordan said, “Find some that’s not frozen and light it with…something…”

The two drooped, disheartened.

Mal stopped pinching her brow and raised her head. “That’s an interesting thought.”

“What? Gasoline?” Jordan asked.

“No. Heat,” Mal said and the solution fully crystalized in her mind.

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Ben sat with Fairy Godmother in an empty hallway, not being able to stand watching the news coverage of the Schwartzvald disaster for another minute. Audrey had wanted to comfort him but her unending tears had only pained him more and Fairy Godmother proved a steady, reassuring presence. Ben would have to return to his council and members of MAAM soon, he knew, but he needed a few minutes to stitch himself back together.

He and his chief adviser looked out the windows and into the gardens but in his mind’s eye he saw Mal. Having watched an hour-long special of the Maleficent Horror Show it was easy to imagine the unspeakable dangers Mal was probably in the thick of.

Fairy Godmother sensed the direction of his thoughts. “Those children are some of the bravest souls I’ve ever encountered. Bless them.”

Ben’s throat thickened. “Yes.”

She turned her head and smiled kindly. “And, perhaps, they are wiser than I have credited them. I saw only naughty children at first but then your friends brought to bear every ounce of wit, every drop of gumption they had and achieved remarkable things. The dears can handle themselves, I’m sure.”

Ben felt his heart lighten a fraction. “You’re right, Mal is wise. And she’s a cunning warrior. I wouldn’t want to meet her on the battlefield for anything.”  

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The snow monster looked up, having been lured to the house by suspicious noises, just as a stream of hot goblin urine hit his face. It roared as the cackling goblins stood on the edge of the roof and wielded their weapons masterfully so that the pee came down in yellow arcs the snow monster was powerless to avoid.

“Feel the sting of our sick Queen’s fury!” Blibtogs hollered.

The monster’s face melted into mush and its cries cut off. It swiped the air with its massive arms but succeeded in only disfiguring itself further as the urine burned through the snow of its arms like a superacid. The goblins’ supply was finally exhausted and they tucked themselves back into their pants and cheered.

Mal and the others stood just behind the goblins, observing what they’d wrought.

“That was…” Jordan shuddered.

“That,” Jack’s camera couldn’t fully conceal his huge grin, “was great television.”

“Yellow and white are never going to be in my designs again,” said Evie. “Just no.”

“Now or never guys,” Mal said and as planned they all jumped off the roof and into the snowbank below. Mal and the others helped lift the goblins out from the snow and then ran for the ice staircase.

In the street the snow monster, still on its feet, was functioning as smoothly as a headless chicken; it powered forward and nearly took them out by pure chance. Mal looked behind her as she ran and the monster swayed, convulsed, then fell back onto a house and flattened most of it in a crash of snapping wood and breaking glass.

Mal winced. Unfortunate.

Her boot was planted on the first ice step when a chorus of wails rose up from the village and snow monsters lumbered down the streets toward their fallen brother to investigate.

There was no need to urge her people on, they knew, and bounded up the stairs. Mal’s sore ribs twinged in protest and she slipped and her shins hit the steps. Evie grabbed her and hauled her back up. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Mal kept at least one hand on the railing – made of the same stupidly smooth blue ice – from then on, for what little help it might be.

The snow monsters noticed their unwelcome guests and pointed at them and snarled with icicle teeth. Their raging shook the mountains and then they surged forward to pursue them up the stairs, a roaring avalanche.

If Mal or the others broke their necks on the ice steps it was better than being caught, she decided. Adrenaline rocketed through her and put a pounding in her ears, they climbed higher and higher up the mountain. She could see the set of double doors, their only hope of escape, and it was a crushing distance away. The icy blast on her neck warned her the monsters were gaining.

A panting Blibtogs was in front of Mal until he looked back and slipped, and slipped spectacularly – his big belly bounced him off the stairs and he tumbled down straight into Mal. She was brought to her knees in a breathless gasp but he continued to fall. Blibtogs rolled down more than a dozen steps before he managed to fling out his arm and with a horrible screech on the ice his claws stopped his descent.

He spluttered, horrified, and turned his head to gaze at the stampede of giant snowmen about to crush him. Mal stood back up, unable to look away. She was weak and stupid and empty of magic and about to watch another of her goblins be killed.

One monster noticed the goblin at their mercy and halted, snarling. But the others didn’t stop – fixated on reaching the quarry in their crosshairs – and a snow monster impatiently moved to squeeze around Blibtog’s would-be killer until its shoving shattered part of the railing. The monster mis-stepped and its empty eyes widened. It was set to tumble over the side but saved itself from plummeting to the earth by hanging onto the stair’s edge by its powerful arms.

Confusion spread amongst the snowy ranks with disgruntled moaning. Those determined to reach their prey clambered over the monsters moving too slow for their liking and Blibtog’s monster was suddenly fighting not to be trampled. Blibtogs seized his chance and bolted while the staircase became gridlocked by snow monsters.

Mal resumed climbing but was more focused in what was behind her than what was ahead. Because it was distracting to say the least. The monsters were an uncontrolled riot as they climbed over each other in a maddened push to continue the chase no matter what, even if they had to plough through their own to do it and even if the railing was smashed to powder under their brutish hands and the stairs quivered with the pressure.

Then the staircase audibly cracked.

As one, the monsters stilled, no doubt familiar with the sound of fracturing ice and its perils. There might’ve even been a nervous “uhhh?”. But there was nothing they could do. Without further fuss the stairs broke apart under their feet. Mal and her people scrambled back and the snowmen crashed down the mountainside, a roaring avalanche.

Except for one.

One tenacious snow monster blessed with dumb luck clawed at the broken end of the staircase until it pulled itself up to solid ice and stood to its full height and glared at them with menace.

Mal looked to Blibtogs beside her. “Anything in the tank?”

Blibtogs groped his crotch to check. He shook his head.

“Ugh. We were this close to being cheating slackers for once,” Mal complained and unsheathed her sword.