Return to the Isle of the Lost Page 40


“A match, then?” he asked.

“We think so. Either there are two different creatures, with identical ridge patterns, or these scales are from one creature that can take two different shapes. We think it is the latter, as it would be nearly impossible to find two creatures with these specific markings,” she said, buzzing between the two photographs.

“Where’s the dragon scale from?” he asked, trying not to show how anxious he was. “Is it Maleficent?”

“Not exactly,” she said, coming over to fly by his shoulder. Her voice was tiny and sharp as a wind chime.

He exhaled. “What does that mean? What’s it from?”

“The scale isn’t from any creature we have in our files. As much as we tried, we couldn’t find a match, actually, until Lexi Rose remembered we’d received something similar not so long ago.” Faylinn clicked to the next slide. “As you know, fairies like to study every aspect of nature, and we ask that if anyone in Auradon discovers something new in the natural world, they send it to us so we can add it to our collection. Recently, a team of dwarfs were digging a new mine down by Faraway Cove, when they came across something unusual.”

The other fairies shifted in their seats and looked uneasy as the slide on the screen showed a group of dwarfs mugging for the camera, their wheelbarrows filled with sparkly diamond rocks. “Look over here,” she said, flying back to the screen and flitting over the cavern floor.

Ben leaned forward and saw that the ground was littered with the same purple scales.

“The dwarfs closed the mining operation soon after. They said they felt the tunnel was haunted even though they never saw anything, but they sensed a strange presence inside it. One of them—I think it was Doc’s nephew—noticed the purple scales and sent a few to the archive.”

“Faraway Cove’s pretty close to Charmington,” said Ben. “And Camelot is directly north of it as well. The dragon must have used these mining tunnels to disappear in and out of sight, which is why Arthur’s men could never catch it. I need to take a team into that mine.”

“The dwarfs sent a map, so you should be able to find the entrance easily enough,” said Faylinn. “I’ll have one copied for you.”

“Hold on, you still haven’t told me—could the scales be Maleficent’s?” he asked.

“I’m sorry to tell you it’s because we don’t know. As it turns out, we don’t have a sample from Maleficent. Prince Philip’s sword was wiped clean after their battle twenty years ago. But if you can send one from the lizard in your library, then we could tell you for certain.”

“Thanks. I’ll have my men send over a sample as soon as I can. This has been really helpful.” He shook Faylinn’s tiny hand with his thumb and forefinger and waved to the rest of the fairies.

“Ben, about this shapeshifting dragon…even if it isn’t Maleficent, it’s still incredibly dangerous. And if it is able to shift in form and size, that means it is capable of incredibly powerful magic. You must be prepared to fight it with similar enchantment. I know the rules of Auradon, so I don’t give this advice lightly,” she said, buzzing worriedly.

“I won’t go alone, don’t worry. I’ll tell Merlin to meet me at Faraway Cove as soon as possible. And he can bring his wand this time.” Ben smiled. “I know he’s been itching to use it.”

Faylinn nodded. “I can imagine.” Seeing the somber look on his face, she buzzed comfortingly by his shoulder. “Remember, when in doubt, think of happy thoughts and you’ll find your way.”

He smiled at the tiny fairy. The happiest thought he could think of was Mal and her friends returning safe from the Isle of the Lost. He hoped it would come true.

 

 

“Ugh, the leather is going to shrink,” said Mal, wringing her jacket and trying to dry her hair. She had already vomited up a gallon of water, and was still shaking from the near drowning, not to mention the near-crocodile-dinner experience. But Mal being Mal, of course she didn’t want to show how shaken she was, so she focused on mourning her ruined jacket instead. “What a bunch of dock rats we are,” she said with a laugh. Carlos was similarly soaked to the bone, and Evie was shoeless, her jacket torn. Her bird’s-nest hair could rival any of Cruella’s fright wigs.

“Speak for yourselves,” said Jay, who was dry and without a scratch.

“Don’t worry about the jacket, I can make you another one,” said Evie, running a brush through her hair and trying to make herself look presentable.

“I shouldn’t have run off like that,” said Mal. “I’m sorry. I thought Maddy was my friend.”

Evie patted Mal on the shoulder; her hand made a wet, squelching sound and she withdrew it in alarm. “Oh, uh, it’s okay, we all make mistakes.”

“I didn’t think she would betray me like that,” said Mal. “I really thought she was part of the Anti-Heroes club.”

Carlos was sitting on the ground. He’d removed his shoes and socks in an effort to dry them. He pulled seaweed from his hair. “What do you think Maddy meant when she said, ‘All of Auradon will burn, just like Camelot’?”

Evie shrugged. “Isn’t that what villains do? Threaten?”

“It sounded a little more specific than that, don’t you think?” said Carlos. “How did she know about the fires in Camelot, then?”

“Hang on, she said something about Camelot?” asked Mal.

“Yeah, and didn’t you say that’s where that purple dragon is?” said Carlos.

Mal nodded. “Yeah.”

“Maybe Ben put it on the news,” said Evie.

“Maybe,” said Mal. She shook out her jacket. “Listen, I need to tell you guys something, but we should get cleaned up first, I can’t think with all this wet stuff on me.” She shook her hair and droplets rained all around. “The Junk Shop isn’t far from here, so Jay and Carlos can get cleaned up over there. Evie and I will go back to the Bargain Castle across the street. Meet us there after you get changed.”

The four of them walked back into town, Mal squelching with every footstep, Evie walking in stockings, Carlos simply barefoot and holding his wet sneakers, and Jay practically skipping. The boys crossed over to Pity Lane and headed for Jafar’s while Mal unlocked the door to the Bargain Castle.

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