Return to the Isle of the Lost - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,14

carriage, with a retinue of servants and footmen following behind in a regular coach. Ben decided not to use the usual king-size motorcade since Camelot’s roads were too rough for cars, as most of its residents traveled by horse-drawn vehicles.

As soon as they set off, the old wizard was already snoring in the backseat, but Artie was awake and excited, trying out all the features of the carriage interior and playing with the sunroof, sliding it open and closed on a whim. “Dad won’t let us update our carriage,” he explained as he put on road-canceling headphones (carriage travel was notoriously loud due to wheel rumble) and eagerly flipped through every channel offered on the television screen installed above the back bench.

Ben settled in, amused, and let Artie have his fun.

The journey from Auradon City was a long one, taking them up to Summerlands and past Snow White’s castle, where they would stop for the night before making their way into the Enchanted Wood, then across the river through acres of forest lands, and finally into Camelot. Ben tried to relax in his seat, and sent a few texts to Mal to let her know he was thinking of her. No luck, she wasn’t responding, and so he closed his eyes and tried to rest.

A few hours after Ben, Merlin, and Artie left Snow White’s palace the next morning, King Arthur’s Castle crested high on the hill, proud and tall, its red towers glowing in the sun.

“Home,” said Artie excitedly. “Looks like they knew we were coming.” The turrets were flying both the Pendragon banner and Ben’s beast-head sigil.

“I sent Archimedes ahead with the news so they could prepare,” said Merlin, meaning his pet owl. He put his rumpled wizard’s hat back on his head and scratched his beard. “What in Auradon is going on here?” he said as the castle gates opened for the royal entourage.

Ben yawned and took a look outside the window. The entire courtyard was filled with tents and crudely constructed shelters. “Is it always this crowded here?” he asked as they disembarked.

“No,” said an irritated Merlin, stepping off the carriage and, in his haste, stumbling over his robes. “Something must have happened.”

Artie jumped down, and Ben followed, eager to stretch his legs after the long ride. They were greeted by quite a sight—and odor. The scent of roasting meat and smoke filled the air as people huddled around unruly fire pits. The people of Camelot preferred to live as they always had, and eschewed many modern conveniences. All well and good, thought Ben, except a little deodorant never hurt anyone. It smelled like the Middle Ages in here.

“It looks like the villagers have moved from their homes to seek protection behind the castle walls,” said Merlin, frowning. “The creature must have struck again,” he muttered under his breath.

“Make way for the king, make way,” Ben’s royal guards ordered, clearing a path through the crowd to the entrance to the palace.

“King Ben!” the people cheered as men bowed their heads and women curtsied. “The King of Auradon has come!” he heard people whisper. “Hope has arrived at last!”

He waved back cheerfully, trying to ignore the nerves fluttering underneath his confident smile. His subjects depended on him, and now he understood why his father had always projected strength and self-assurance. Apparently it wasn’t as easy as he had made it seem.

“This way,” said Merlin when they were inside the castle proper, where the great hall was also teeming with people lying in bedrolls and hay. The castle’s lord chamberlain rushed to meet them. He bowed to Ben and whispered in Merlin’s ear.

“They have prepared rooms for you in the east wing,” Merlin said. “Arthur apologizes that he is not here to welcome you, but he is still out in the countryside, urging his people to head to the safety of Camelot, and expects to be delayed for quite some time. He hopes that in his place, you shall meet with his knights, who are aware of the latest developments in the situation.”

“Thank you,” said Ben. “Please tell Arthur no apologies are necessary and I look forward to speaking with his men.”

“Sire, shall I go ahead and unpack and prepare your wardrobe?” asked Lumiere, who was traveling with Ben as his personal valet. The old Frenchman looked askance at the unwashed hordes and was probably wishing they were all back in Auradon’s much more comfortable palace right now.

“Please do,” said Ben as Merlin and Artie took their leave.

“Shall