Another day there was Gil, skipping stones on the beach.
“GIL! I’M RIGHT HERE! GIL!” she yelled.
Gil looked into the distance. “Uma?” he asked. He looked down and found a large seashell. He put the conch to his ear.
“YES! I’M RIGHT HERE!”
But he didn’t seem to hear her. Eventually he set the conch down.
The next time she saw the boys on the deck of her ship, she didn’t even bother to call out to them. There was no use. It was as if she were as invisible to them as the barrier.
Uma dived down into the depths again. Maybe if she swam deep enough, she would find a place where the barrier ended.
It felt like she had been swimming forever, down and down, cutting across currents and into the dark deep below. And still the barrier held. There was truly no way through the spell.
Except…
What was that?
That sound…
Was she dreaming, or was it…rock music? Coming from the depths below?
t had been a few days since Mal, Evie, Carlos, and Jay had approached Ben to discuss the VK program, and Mal was starting to feel a little impatient. Every moment on the Isle of the Lost meant neglect, filth, and abandonment for the kids who lived there. The sooner they got more kids to apply to Auradon Prep, and the sooner they got them off the Isle, the better those kids’ lives would be. Evie had brought it up again the other night, and Mal had promised she would ask Ben about it today.
They were at their ballroom dancing practice. And even though Mal wished they were training with swords and shields instead, she kept it to herself. Since she had been announced as the future Lady Mal, she and Ben were expected to lead many dances in countless royal balls around Auradon. There were so many styles to learn—the fox-trot, the waltz, the Viennese waltz (who knew there were two kinds of waltzes?) the quickstep, the mambo, the cha-cha.
Ben was already in the palace ballroom with Merryweather, their instructor. The good fairy was wearing her usual blue gown, blue hat, and blue cape. She eyed Mal’s purple dress and smiled.
“Good morning, good morning, King Ben, Mal,” she said. “Are we ready for our lesson?”
“We sure are,” said Ben heartily. Kingly duties took up so much of his schedule, and Mal knew he was glad for any excuse to spend more time together. Even if that meant learning complicated formal dances. “Shall we?” he asked, offering Mal his hand.
“We shall,” she said, her eyes sparkling as she took it.
He swept her into his arms, and they began counting the steps to the waltz.
Ben was concentrating hard on his footwork, and Mal had to make sure she kept in time with the beat. So it was only when Ben swung her around and dipped her that she was able to catch his attention.
“Pardon?” he asked, as Merryweather tapped her wand and music filled the room.
“I was saying—about the VK program—I was thinking we should bring as many kids as possible to Auradon Prep,” she told him.
“Wouldn’t that be too many?” said Ben, spinning her around.
“What’s too many?” she asked, trying not to feel dizzy.
Ben shrugged as his hands drifted back to her waist for the next step. “It’s a delicate situation. We need to handle it correctly.”
Merryweather tapped them with her wand. “Ben, chin up! Mal, please don’t hold your skirt that way.”
They adjusted accordingly. “I just wish we could bring them all over,” said Mal, as they picked up the dance again.
“I know. I do too,” said Ben. “Honestly, I didn’t realize the impact of my decision on the kids who weren’t originally chosen. I didn’t know they took it so personally—like Uma.”
Mal made a face. “There’s only one Uma,” she said.
“I don’t think Auradon can handle more than one,” he said mildly.
“I agree,” said Mal, as Ben twirled her around. “So, how many, then? How many kids will be accepted into the program?”
Ben whispered, “Name a number.”
“Ten!”
“Two,” he replied teasingly.
She snorted. “Six.”
“Three.”
“Four,” said Mal as she curtsied to him at the end of the waltz.
“Done,” said Ben, bowing low with a smile.
“Exactly!” said Merryweather as the music ended with a flourish.
Four more villain kids. It was hardly everyone, but it was a start. She smiled at Ben. “Perfect.”
“Oh!” Merryweather clasped her hands together. “You are both lovely dancers!”
ay knew that graduating from Auradon Preparatory School was no small feat. And over the years he’d discovered the school offered an array of traditions for its graduating seniors to celebrate the achievement. There was the Senior Tea, presided over by a beaming Mrs. Potts. There was the Senior Ball, rivaling official royal balls in pomp and majesty. There was the Senior Crown Ceremony, where first-years placed golden crowns on the seniors’ heads. There was Senior Ditch Day, when everyone left class and spent a day at the water park in Triton’s Bay. (Jay had practically stuffed himself full of Scuttle’s churros!) There was even an upcoming class trip to the Enchanted Wood and a fancy Senior Dinner two weeks before the last day of school.
No one ever made a big deal of anything back on the Isle of the Lost. Once you graduated from Dragon Hall, they kicked you out the door. (Literally.) In comparison, senior year at Auradon Prep seemed like one big celebration. The school did its best to make everyone’s last year special and more memorable, and Jay found he was enjoying every minute of it.
But there was one tradition that had absolutely nothing to do with the administration, and if Fairy Godmother ever caught wind of it, she might wave her wand in annoyance and end the entire practice. So every senior kept quiet about it.
This tradition was called the Senior Quest. (Also known as the Senior Scavenger Hunt, but traditionalists liked to call it by its formal name.)
Ben had spent one afternoon at tourney practice filling Jay in on all the details. All participating seniors met at the tourney field at twilight to get the list of objects and tasks. Whoever completed the quest first would go down in Auradon Prep history—and win a trophy, along with a hundred-dollar gift certificate for a meal at Ariel’s Grotto.
The Senior Quest was famous for its daring triumphs over the years: Genie had been made to grant three wishes; the statue of King Beast had been stolen from the commons and placed on the roof; the sword had been pulled from the stone. Even more shrouded in legend were its winners: Prince Charming was said to have charmed his way through it. Prince Philip had slain a dragon (an illusion crafted by Merlin, of course). Princess Merida had shot the highest arrow up in the sky. A student named Wendy was famous for bringing back pixie dust from Never Land. But one thing was certain: Only the best of the best were named champions.
Once Jay had heard about the quest, he couldn’t wait. He wanted his name in the history books. As well as that gift certificate—all the fish fingers he could eat!
When he arrived at the tourney field right at sunset—on his motorbike, no less—all the teams were already gathering. Aziz was at the wheel of his Magic Carpet, a tricked-out car with a superfast engine. Chad was on a white horse, alone. Evie and Doug were hanging out with six of Doug’s cousins, waiting for the game to start. Doug’s cousins were a fun bunch: Cheerful, Shy, Crabby, Snoozy, Doc the Second, and Gesundheit, who was called Gus for short. Crabby was annoyed he had to be on a team with Gus, who was always blowing his nose, but then, Crabby always lived up to his name. Evie was wishing them all good luck.