Return to the Isle of the Lost - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,31

still rusty, the wallpaper still faded, and there were still holes in the plaster molding.

“Mom?” Carlos whispered.

Evie nudged him. “She’s not going to hear you that way. Louder.”

Carlos tried again. “Mom?” he croaked.

“CRUELLA? ARE YOU HERE?” Evie yelled.

Carlos almost fell to the floor in fright. “Don’t DO that! Or at least warn me first!”

The kitchen was untidy, with dirty dishes in the sink and crusted food on the counter. Carlos began cleaning up almost automatically. It had been his job to keep house when he lived there. Cruella spent her days eating waxy old chocolate bonbons and watching the Dungeon Shopping Network.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a while either,” said Evie, sniffing. “I think I’m allergic to the Isle,” she said apologetically.

“There’s only one way to find out. Wait here,” said Carlos. He steeled himself and went through the hidden passage to Cruella’s treasured fur closet.

There was no way his mother would leave without her precious furs. They were all she cared about in life. He flung open the door and gasped. They were all still there—mink and ocelot, beaver and fox, rabbit and raccoon, sable and skunk. Alas, not one Dalmatian coat; Cruella’s greatest regret. But he noticed that her rollers were missing from their case in her dressing room, along with the small overnight bag she often used when she went to visit the spa in Troll Town. (Apparently trolls were talented masseurs, due to their large hands.)

He walked back to the kitchen, where Evie was seated on a stool, blowing her nose. “She’s gone?” she asked.

“Looks like it,” he said, opening the cupboards for more clues. “And the milk in the fridge expired three months ago.” He picked up the box and shook it so its contents sloshed. “Curdled.”

“But the milk’s always expired when we get it.”

“Oh, right, I forgot,” said Carlos, who wanted a huge delicious glass of fresh milk right now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow move across the kitchen window and jumped. “Who’s there!” he called.

No answer.

“I thought I saw something,” he muttered, and not for the first time, he wished they were back home safe in Auradon. This wasn’t home anymore, and it probably never had been, not really.

“She leave any clues?” Evie asked.

“No, just her furs,” said Carlos.

“Interesting. But isn’t Cruella obsessed with her fur coats?” asked Evie, who had once been stuck in that very closet, until Carlos rescued her from its bear traps.

“Obsessed is putting it mildly,” said Carlos.

“Evil Queen left her makeup, and Cruella de Vil left her fur coats,” said Evie. “But they’re definitely both gone. Maybe they thought they would be back quickly. I mean, they should be at the meeting tonight, right? Otherwise why would they leave the things that mattered to them the most?”

Carlos didn’t point out how insane it was that cosmetics and furs were what mattered the most to their mothers. He was used to coming in second in Cruella’s affections—make that third, after the car. Probably fourth, after the wigs, if he was being truly honest.

A twig snapped outside. This time Evie heard it too.

“Who’s there?” Carlos called again, opening the door. “Show yourself!” he said, even though he was shaking in his boots. He wished Mal was with them. Everyone was scared of Mal.

He heard snickering in the bushes, and whispering. “It’s him, it’s really him. And her, I think that’s her. The pretty one.” Two figures stepped out to the light. One was tall and skinny and the other was short and round.

“Harry! Jace!” Carlos said.

“Your friends?” asked Evie.

“Not exactly,” he told her. Harry and Jace were the sons of Cruella’s most loyal minions, Jasper and Horace. The three of them used to hang out since their fathers were scared of Carlos’s mother, and had forced their boys to befriend Carlos. They had helped decorate for the howler of a party Carlos had thrown for Mal at Hell Hall not too long ago.

“You’re back!” said Harry.

“What are you doing here?” asked Jace.

“Can’t a guy visit his mother?” asked Carlos. “What’s up with you guys?”

“Nothing much. We saw you on the telly,” said Harry. They sounded exactly like their fathers, down to their Cockney accents.

“At the Coronation?” Carlos said.

“Yar,” said Jace. “When the dome broke and Maleficent zoomed out of here, fast as her dragon wings could take her, we all cheered.”

“We thought it was finally our time, that she’d take Auradon for us!” said Harry.

“Evil rules!” cheered Jace, raising a fist.

“But o’course