on royal media, you only use your phone, and everyone knows Evie’s always updating her feed. Do you think they reached Jay? He’s never online and he’s always losing his phone.”
“I’m sure they found a way,” said Mal.
“We think the messages might be from our parents,” said Evie a little breathlessly.
That was not news he wanted to hear. “What! Why?” Carlos twisted around, suddenly seized with the fear that his mother, Cruella de Vil, with her wild hair and trademark screech, was right behind him.
Dude whimpered.
“Relax, they’re not here, at least not yet,” said Mal. Then she told him how Evie’s Magic Mirror had been unable to show them the villains on the island.
“Well, call me paranoid, but lately I feel like she is near. Like she’s watching me somehow. I can’t shake the feeling,” he said, panicking as he imagined Cruella appearing at his doorway. While Maleficent might be able to turn into a dragon, Cruella was a dragon.
“Nah, you’re just paranoid,” said Mal.
Carlos chewed on this new information. “Maybe so, but you’re saying there’s really a chance they’re behind these messages? Our parents? They want us to come back? But why?” he asked.
“Because they miss us and want to give us hugs?” said Evie. “I’m kidding, I’m sure my mom only wants to know if I’m keeping up with my weekly mud masks and facial massages.”
“They want us to return so we can help them get their revenge on Auradon, of course,” said Mal. “Defeat only makes villains try harder. I can just hear my mom now, saying ‘You poor simple fools, thinking you could defeat me! Me! The mistress of all evil!’” Then she cackled like Maleficent.
“You’re scarily good at that,” said Evie, shivering.
“Thank you, I think?” said Mal.
Carlos shuddered and turned back to his computer to try out a succession of common passwords. None of them worked. He stared at the blinking cursor. “Dalmatians,” he cursed again. Then he realized if Mal was correct and the villains were behind the messages, there was only one way to find out for sure.
C-A-V-E-O-F-W-O-N-D-E-R-S, he tried. Nothing.
M-A-K-E-U-P was his next guess. He sighed with relief when it didn’t work, and E-V-I-L-L-I-V-E-S turned up nothing either.
Gathering his courage, he decided to try one more password that would link the messages to their parents.
D-A-L-M-A-T-I-A-N-S, he typed.
The screen froze and for a moment Carlos was relieved that his hunch was incorrect, but after a second it came to life again, and green letters began scrolling across the screen. He’d hacked it. He was inside.
“Oh no,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” asked Evie, squinting at the screen. It was a Web site unlike any they’d seen before. It was more primitive and crudely designed, with no pretty icons or bright colors, only windows of black screens with green letters.
“The Dark Net,” Carlos whispered, still staring at the screen, unwilling to believe it was true. “There’s a rumor going around that after the dome broke when Maleficent escaped, the Isle of the Lost was able to start up a secret online network of their own. And I’m not talking about the kind of Internet where people share funny kitten videos.”
“But we don’t have access to the Internet on the Isle. We’re cut off, remember?” said Mal.
“Maybe something happened when the dome broke open,” said Evie.
“Anything’s possible,” said Carlos. “Especially during that time when the dome let magic back onto the island.” He looked up at them. “Supposedly since the Dark Net is effectively hidden from Auradon’s servers, it’s a way for the villains on the Isle of the Lost to communicate with each other. Think about it, on the Dark Net, they can hatch evil plots without anyone here knowing anything about it.”
“So they use the Dark Net to send each other evil e-mails?” joked Mal.
“And post evil insta-messages.” Evie giggled.
“I’m serious!” said Carlos. “It’s not funny.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” said Mal, sobering. “With an online network, they can organize their evil schemes more effectively.”
“Yeah, exactly, so I’m going to poke around, see what else I can find,” said Carlos.
“But, Carlos, you just said the villains are behind it!” Evie cried. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“I would say Danger is my middle name,” said Carlos cheerfully, warming up to the task as his dog slid from his lap to nestle at his feet contentedly. Now that he had a new thing to explore, he didn’t feel as frightened. He could do this. “But my middle name is actually Oscar.”
He saw their faces and muttered as he typed, “Hey,