Rise of the Isle of the Lost

“Mal, do this filter with us!” Evie said, and Mal obliged, sticking her tongue out at the camera. The image on the phone turned the three of them into mermaids complete with curved green tails.

“That’s pretty much what I look like when I swim,” Arabella said approvingly.

“Cool.” Mal smiled.

On the stage, Sebastian was zooming around on his claws, belting his heart out while the mermaids harmonized and splashed, swimming in synchronized patterns around the stage.

“Who knew crustaceans were so talented?” Mal whispered to Ben as Sebastian hit a high note. Ben grinned and squeezed her arm in agreement.

He looked so handsome in his royal coat and sash, the golden crown on his honey-colored hair. The crowd cheered when they saw him smile, and he waved back from the balcony. “Come on, Mal, give them a wave,” he urged.

Mal hesitantly raised her hand and waved as well, and another cheer rose from the crowd. She was still getting used to the position of royal girlfriend and all the attention it generated. She never wanted to embarrass Ben, and she was keenly aware of how different she was from his former girlfriend. Audrey was the epitome of an Auradon princess—she looked so perfectly sweet and lovely that birds would perch on her finger, while Mal was definitely a villain kid from the Isle. A reformed villain, for sure, but chirping birds certainly wouldn’t be worshipping her any time soon. Unlike Audrey, Mal preferred to wear leather pants rather than pretty dresses. So far the people of Auradon didn’t seem to mind, and Mal was grateful they were so accepting.

“How do they fly so high?” asked Carlos, as the mermaids shot into the air to the rhythm of the music and performed dizzying backflips. “I thought they were mermaids, not fairies.”

“They’re jumping, not flying,” said Jay, looking envious. “It’s like water parkour.”

“Oh, like what they do in R.O.A.R. competitions,” Carlos teased, meaning the Royal Order of Auradon Regiment. “You know, all that sword-fighting, flips and stuff, or as you call it, ‘jumping.’”

“Right, when are tryouts again?”

“After our last tourney game.”

“Cool,” said Jay, adjusting his red beanie over his forehead.

Mal shushed the guys as the mermaids finished their song and the clam closed again and disappeared underwater. Next, the orchestra was introduced, showcasing a talented variety of sea creatures playing instruments in a custom-built stage-size aquarium. It was a joyful, dazzling celebration. Growing up, Mal recalled watching (okay, sneering at) the festival coverage on Auradon News Network, but that was nothing compared to seeing it live, to marveling at the shimmering scales on the mermaids and watching a killer shark pluck harp strings with its fin so delicately. The Seaside Festival was just the first in an annual all-kingdom “Celebration of Auradon” wherein every kingdom hosted the king with a plethora of festivities that showcased their unique culture.

Suddenly, Mal felt something shift in her pocket and got a glimpse of the Dragon’s Egg she had found in the Catacombs of Doom only a few days earlier. The evil talisman had been disarmed, but its surface was crisscrossed with fine green lines, and they were multiplying by the minute.

Mal knew it was dangerous, but she couldn’t help keeping the Dragon’s Egg with her at all times. It had to be destroyed soon, and Ben kept reminding her about it, but she always had an excuse as to why she couldn’t see Fairy Godmother just yet. For some reason, she just wanted to keep the egg a little longer. There was no rush just yet, was there? Besides, the Dragon’s Egg was so warm and toasty in her pocket.

“It’s nice to be back,” said Mal. “Even though we were only gone for a day, it felt like we were down in the Catacombs for a long time.”

Ben nodded. “I’m glad everything worked out.”

“Thanks to you,” she said, since Ben had appeared at the last minute to set everything right on that adventure.

“And you!” he said, nudging her.

“And us!” chimed in Carlos, Jay, and Evie teasingly.

“Totally! Group hug?” said Mal, opening up her arms.

“Group hug!” they chorused, and the five of them shared an affectionate embrace. Evie pulled in Arabella too, so she wouldn’t feel left out, even though she hadn’t braved the Catacombs of Doom with them.

The orchestra finished its performance with a roaring crescendo of percussion by a group of manta rays, just as a proud King Triton rose from the waves. He held his golden trident to the sky and the entire coastline exploded in a dazzling canvas of color and light and magic. The crowd thrilled at the sight, and Ben put an arm around Mal as the fireworks boomed all around them. She leaned her head against his chest and nestled into his arms, feeling lucky and content—and just a tiny bit guilty about the Dragon’s Egg hidden in her pocket.


After the show, the gang wandered down to the exhibitor booths to shop for Seaside souvenirs before the start of the mer-games. Mal and Ben walked hand in hand behind their friends, lingering at a stand selling seashell necklaces.

“Pretty,” said Mal, holding up a particularly luminescent piece, a creamy pastel-colored one polished to a high shine.

“Each one is unique.” The mermaid attending the booth smiled. “No two are alike in all the world.”

“Do you want one?” asked Ben, reaching for his wallet.

Mal smiled and shook her head. “No, I just like looking at them.” She handed the seashell necklace back to the mermaid.

“They’re not just beautiful,” the mermaid told them. “Each of them contains a little sea magic. The most famous seashell necklace was Ursula’s golden one, of course. Her power almost defeated Triton’s, but thankfully it was destroyed.” The mermaid shuddered at the memory.

Mal nodded and took Ben’s hand and pulled him away to catch up with the rest of the group. She didn’t want any mention of villain history to mar their day, and Ursula’s evil actions still cast a shadow on the Seaside community, in the same way that Audrey’s grandmother had snapped upon seeing Mal, the daughter of Sleeping Beauty’s famous nemesis, attending school in Auradon.

They found their friends in front of a booth selling scoops of Seaside’s famous clam-shaped fried ice cream. Arabella had taken on the role of unofficial tour guide, and was telling Evie, Jay, and Carlos which flavors tasted the best and which ones to avoid.

“Plankton is a good choice; it tastes like pistachio,” Arabella said, tapping the glass and pointing to the nearest tub.

“Sounds good, I’ll take it,” said Carlos.

Jay leaned over the counter. “What about that one?” he asked, motioning to a dark-colored flavor.

“Oh, that’s anemone. It tastes like chocolate.”