Rise of the Isle of the Lost

One fine day…


Three years later, that day had not yet come. Especially not after the shiny black limousine drove up to the Isle of the Lost. Uma had never seen a car like that—the only means of transportation on the island were rickshaws pulled by goblins, old skateboards, and rusty bikes. It was clear limousines were more than just cars; they were moving cocoons of luxury, decked out in buttery leather seats and filled to the brim with sugary drinks and snacks.

So what was it doing here of all places, on this forgotten island of villains?

The young sea witch elbowed her way to the front of the gaping crowd so she could get a better look at what was happening. At sixteen she was small for her age, but more than made up for it by cutting a striking figure. She wore her turquoise hair in a river of long braids that fell down her back, and was partial to patchwork leather dresses and low boots decorated with fishing nets and seashells. Truly, Uma was one of the head-turners on the island, not that she cared. Uma had bigger fish to fry—literally, since she worked at her mom’s Fish and Chips Shoppe.

The assembled group of louts, toughs, and goons (otherwise known as the population of the island) were oohing and ahhing at the sight of the marvelous automobile. No one had any idea why it was there, or what it meant, but before a riot broke out among the villainous ranks, the door to Maleficent’s castle opened and Evie, Carlos, and Jay walked out carrying luggage, followed by their parents.

“Bring home the gold!” yelled Jafar.

“Bring home a puppy!” urged Cruella De Vil.

“Bring home a prince!” Evil Queen cried.

Uma nudged the fellow on the left. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Are they leaving?”

The henchman nodded, barely concealed envy on his face. “Rumor has it they’re going to Auradon.”

“Auradon? Why?” said Uma, appalled and intrigued at the same time.

“To go to school. Some kind of new proclamation or something. They’ve been chosen to attend Auradon Prep.”

Carlos, Jay, and Evie trooped into the car.

“Is anyone else going?” Uma asked, just as a fourth villain kid burst through the castle doors. An annoyed-looking Mal handed her backpack to the driver.

Of course Mal had been chosen too.

Uma watched as Mal looked up to the balcony, where Maleficent raised her staff in goodbye, her green eyes blazing. After a moment, Mal’s purple head disappeared into the limousine as well.

Somehow, instead of feeling glee at the sight of the four villain kids’ depressed and resentful faces, Uma only felt a spark…of envy.

Why wasn’t she chosen to leave the Isle of the Lost and live in Auradon? Was she not wicked enough? Not special enough? Why was she left behind like a common goblin?

And why was Mal chosen instead?

Uma had to find a way out of the Isle of the Lost. If Mal and her crew were living in Auradon, then that was the place to be—the place where Uma needed to be. Not here, working day in and day out at Ursula’s Fish and Chips Shoppe slinging fish cakes and lost-soul casseroles to the rabble. Uma was special: she was the sea witch’s daughter, a force to be reckoned with! She couldn’t stay here, lost and unloved and unappreciated!

There was nothing she could do, however. The weeks went by, and the dome was impenetrable. There was no way out of the Isle of the Lost. No matter how much she wanted to leave, there was simply no escape.



Until one day a few months later…one ordinary day, like every other, but unlike every one that came before it, when something different happened.

Uma was getting her hair done at her favorite beauty salon, Curl Up & Dye, watching the television while sitting under the dryer.

“It’s the Coronation. Wish we could be there,” the hairdresser said with a sigh, as a handsome Prince Ben bowed his head to accept the king’s crown and the duties that came with it.

“Mmm,” said Uma, indifferent to Auradon’s pomp and glory. Young Dizzy, the wicked step-granddaughter who was sweeping up tendrils from the floor, was glued to the sight.

On-screen, Fairy Godmother was holding out her wand, but in the blink of an eye, someone else had taken it, and then a huge explosion rocked the whole island.

“What was that?” Uma cried, rushing out of her chair and running outside, just in time to watch a dark shape rising up into the sky, flying like a veritable bat out of hell.

“Magic! The dome is broken!” she heard someone cry. “Maleficent is gone!”

Like the rest of the island’s residents, Uma saw her chance—it was time to go! Time to leave the Isle of the Lost forever! But without a bridge, there was only one way to get to the mainland, so the island’s residents were scrambling to the shoreline. Uma followed the crowd rushing down to the docks to find a ship, a boat, a way out—and just as she had clambered on the last goblin rowboat and made it a few miles away from shore, the dome closed again.

They ran smack into the invisible wall.

Wha—? How—?

Uma pressed her nose against the unseen barrier and tried not to scream.

She was still stuck on this witch-forsaken rock. Later that day, she watched with a weary annoyance as Mal and her friends celebrated their victory, dancing around some castle while fireworks went off in the distance.

Mal and her crew.

Crew.

That was it! That was how she was going to get off this island. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she couldn’t do it alone. What was that saying? No man is an island? Well, no one should live on an island either, at least not unless they had a choice in the matter.

In any case, Uma vowed then and there to put together a real crew of her own.

Friends don’t let friends stay on the Isle of the Lost.





“And now, please welcome Sebastian and the Seven Wonders of the Sea!” the cheerful announcer, a merman floating above the waves, joyfully declared. A magnificent clam-shaped stage rose from the ocean and slowly opened to display the famous crab and a row of pretty mermaids launching into a rollicking tune. The sandy beachfront in front of Ariel and Eric’s castle had been turned into an outdoor stadium, complete with bleachers above the water. Seated high up in the royal box with Ben and her friends, Mal eagerly clapped with the rest of the audience gathered for the start of the annual Seaside Festival, a daylong celebration of merfolk life. Next to her, Evie was taking zapps on her phone with Arabella, Ariel’s niece, who was something of a fashion maven and idolized Evie’s style. The two were currently sporting matching V-braids and poison-heart necklaces. Evie had even made Arabella’s outfit, a lavender-colored blouse with a lace bodice along with a distressed leather skirt.

Evie and Arabella couldn’t stop giggling. “What’s so funny?” Mal asked.