Chapter Text
The strategy room had gone quiet after Isla’s name was revealed, but the silence didn’t last.
Mal stood at the head of the table, her hands braced against the wood. “We can’t just sit here waiting for her to make another move. The longer this goes on, the more dangerous it gets — for all of Auradon.”
Jay leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Then we hunt her down. Set a new trap, make it tighter this time. If she slips away again, we’ll keep closing the walls until there’s nowhere to run.”
Carlos shook his head, worry flickering in his eyes. “If she’s as skilled as the records say, she’ll notice if we recycle the same tricks. We need something unexpected — a way to predict her moves instead of reacting.”
Still sore but unwilling to be sidelined, Uma muttered, “I’d be fine with tracking her down the old-fashioned way. Blade to blade.” She winced but lifted her chin anyway. “Injured or not, I’m not sitting this one out.”
Mal’s gaze drifted to Evie, who hadn’t moved from her spot near the files. Evie’s shoulders were tense, but her voice was steady. “You’re all talking like Isla’s just a target. But she’s not — not to me. Something’s wrong. She’s being pushed into this. We need to find out who is behind it before we back her into a corner she can’t escape.”
Ben, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. His tone carried the weight of his crown. “Evie’s right. We can’t just focus on stopping Isla. We have to understand what’s driving her. If this is bigger than her — if someone’s using her — then chasing shadows won’t solve anything.”
Uma gave him a sharp look. “So what? You’re saying we wait around until she robs half of Auradon?”
“No,” Ben replied firmly. “I’m saying we set a trap that doesn’t just catch her — it uncovers the truth.”
Mal nodded slowly, the fire in her eyes dimming just enough to show she agreed. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
The Isle of the Lost never truly left her. Even in Auradon, surrounded by polished stone and shimmering lanterns, Isla felt the weight of shadows clinging to her skin.
She staggered into the small safehouse she’d claimed on the edge of the woods, one hand pressed against her ribs where Evie had slammed her into the ground. Her breath came in sharp, uneven pulls. The mask she’d worn lay torn on the floor, useless now.
Isla winced, lowering herself onto a broken chair. Her hands shook as she dug into her satchel, finding what she needed, before she felt a presence
She wasn’t alone.
Two figures melted from the shadows, their dark cloaks rippling like smoke. Faces hidden, their presence pressed down on the room like a storm cloud
“You failed,” one said, their voice sharp and cold.
The other tilted their head, voice smoother but no less dangerous. “Failure has consequences. Do you need to be reminded of them?”
Isla’s pulse spiked. She straightened, forcing strength into her voice. “I had it under control. They just—” She stopped, Evie’s face flickering in her mind. That single moment had cut through the fog inside her head like sunlight through smoke, and she’d almost felt like herself again for a breath. Almost.
“Still clinging to yourself,” the first figure sneered. They lifted a hand, murmuring words in a language Isla couldn’t place. The shadows pulsed. Her thoughts tangled, sharp memories of Serpent Prep and stolen laughter with Evie smearing into black fog.
The second circled her slowly, their shadow falling over her. “You belong to us. Whatever memories you cling to… let them go. They are nothing.”
Her knees buckled. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, desperate to hold onto something real. For a heartbeat, she felt the faint warmth of Evie’s hand gripping her wrist in that fight — steady, grounding. That memory held, a single spark refusing to die.
The second figure hissed, annoyed. “Stubborn girl. Even broken toys sometimes resist.” They produced a small vial of liquid from within their cloak that shimmered between silver and pitch-black. They thrust it toward Isla. “Drink.”
The cork popped, the bitter scent stinging her nose. She hesitated — until the second figure leaned closer, their voice soft, coaxing.
“This will silence the noise in your head. It will make you strong again.”
It was a lie. Isla knew it. But her ribs throbbed, her mind was fractured, and her strength was slipping. So she drank.
The liquid burned down her throat, leaving frost in its wake. Her thoughts dulled, the spark of Evie’s memory smothered beneath layers of fog until it felt far away, unreachable.
The shadows withdrew, satisfied.
“Better,” the first figure purred. “Now, you will not falter again.”
The second tilted their head, cloak rustling like wings. “Tomorrow night, you will strike again. And this time… you will not fail.”
Isla lowered her gaze, her voice hollow, stripped of everything that had made it hers.
“As you command.”