Rise of the Isle of the Lost

Uma examined her handiwork with a smile. Once she was satisfied that there wasn’t a poster of the king that wasn’t defaced on the Isle of the Lost, they headed back to their ship.

“Still, it’s too bad we lost,” said Gil, leaning back on the railing with a frown. They were facing the other way now, looking out into the ocean at Auradon in the distance.

“Lost? We didn’t lose!” said Uma. “We never lose!”

But Harry’s sly pirate’s face burst into a grin. “Exactly! We never really had a chance anyway!”

“Huh?” Gil looked confused, but Uma had an inkling of what Harry was trying to say.

Harry’s smile grew wider. “Come on. We’re trapped here. Look up there!” he said, pointing to the sky. “That invisible barrier? It’s impossible to get off the Isle of the Lost. The deck was stacked against us from the beginning.”

Uma raised her fist to the sky in annoyance. Harry was right. They were playing long odds, betting against the house, and the house always wins. She knew that, since she and Harry ran a dice game at the fish shop every other Thursday.

“Listen, we might not have the trident, and we might not have a way off this island,” said Harry. “But we’ve got a serious crew here.”

Uma looked around at the pirates on the ship—Desiree, Jonas, Bonny, even Gonzo. They were hers. A real crew.

“We’ve got a lot to do,” said Harry. “So much trouble to start, eh?” He slung an arm around Uma, and another around Gil.

“Ugh,” said Gil. “You smell like shrimp.”

“Um, that’s me,” said Uma.

“No, it’s me,” said Harry with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “I just had breakfast.”

But the three of them stood there for a bit, with their arms over each other’s shoulders, looking out to the ocean and to the distant skyline of Auradon. Because Harry was right. They might not have much, but they were each part of a pirate crew. And on the Isle of the Lost, that was more than something—it was everything.

“One day, when those Bore-a-don snobs least expect it, we’ll pounce,” promised Harry. “They’ll make a mistake, maybe even wander into the wrong neighborhood. Fall into our net! And you know what we’ll do then!” he said, making a slashing motion across his neck with his hook.

“Um, what will we do?” wondered Gil.

“We’ll have our revenge,” Uma declared, her eyes glittering with malice. “Mark my words. This isn’t the end of our story. It’s only the beginning.”