“Where do you live now?” Maleficent asked.
“In a barn,” Stefan replied.
Maleficent leaned forward, interest sparkling in her green eyes. “A barn? So your parents are farmers, then?”
Stefan shook his head. “My parents are dead.”
“Mine too,” she said softly.
“How did they die? Plague?” Stefan asked.
“They were killed by humans. In the last war.” She gestured toward the forest. “Now all the family I have is in there.”
That’s right, Robin cheered silently. He was glad she’d mentioned the fate of her parents, showing the boy that she knew exactly what humans were capable of. He was even more pleased to hear her call him and the rest of the Fair Folk her family. Though they rarely said such things aloud, it was how he and the rest of the creatures felt about Maleficent. They were her adopted family.
“That’s sad,” Stefan replied, frowning.
“No it’s not,” Maleficent responded. “They’re all I need.” Robin beamed. What a great faerie, that one.
Suddenly, Stefan turned to Maleficent, looking at her intensely. “We’ll see each other again.”
Maleficent sighed. “You really shouldn’t come back here, you know. It’s not safe.”
“Would that not be up to me?” Stefan asked. He stepped closer to her, making Robin clench his fists reflexively. What did he think he was doing?
“It would,” she replied, keeping her eyes locked on his.
“And if I made that choice, if I came back…would you be here?” He was only a few inches away from her now, and Robin shook with anger.
“Perhaps,” was all Maleficent said. But Robin could see the subtle blush in her cheeks. She was pleased.
Stefan offered his hand, and she reached out to take it. Suddenly, she pulled her hand back. She gasped, clearly in pain. Robin zoomed forward, about to interfere.
“What happened?” Stefan asked with a shocked tone.
“Your ring is made of iron,” Maleficent explained, shaking her hand.
Stefan looked alarmed, which seemed like an odd reaction if it had been his intent to hurt her. Robin paused, watching the curious creature. The boy apologized and then took the ring off, throwing it far out into the field. Maleficent appeared to be touched, but Robin was still leery of this human. What was his game?
At that moment, Stefan smiled and started to walk away. After hurrying down a hill, he abruptly turned back toward Maleficent.
“I like your wings!” he called.
Maleficent smiled widely, a smile which turned into a giggle.
Jumping jackhoppers, Robin thought grimly. This is not good.
Later that afternoon, Robin and Maleficent sat in the Rowan Tree, playing a guessing game. Even though Robin was thinking of the most obvious object nearby, the cloud shaped like a dragon drifting overhead, Maleficent still hadn’t guessed it. She had a silly, faraway gaze on her face. Robin hemmed and hawed noisily. But it wasn’t doing any good. Maleficent appeared to be in her own little world.
Finally, Robin gave up on the game, asking about Maleficent’s day. He wondered if she would tell him about the encounter with the human.
“See anything interesting today?” he asked casually.
“Hmm? Oh, no, not really,” she said, smiling to herself.
“Come across anything strange? Out of place?” He flew down to her, hovering in front of her face.
Maleficent rested her chin in her hands. “Sort of.”
Robin couldn’t take it anymore. “Did you meet anybody new?”
“Yes,” Maleficent responded.
Shocked, Robin looked at her, waiting for her to proceed. “A new nosy friend who’s asking me quite a lot of questions. You don’t happen to know where Robin is, do you?”
Robin harrumphed. There was a slight pause, then Maleficent spoke once more.
“And you were thinking of the dragon-shaped cloud. I win.”
She winked at him. Robin snorted with amusement, despite himself.
saw less and less of Maleficent in the years that followed. He would often fly to the Rowan Tree with a new game or prank in mind only to find the tree empty. Other times, he would spot her soaring overhead, always flying in the direction of the border. While they never spoke about it, Robin knew she’d been meeting the human called Stefan. And whenever Robin did see Maleficent, he noticed that she was constantly smiling, beaming with what could only be the glow of a first love. Yes, she was clearly smitten with this Stefan. Perhaps she even felt a connection to her parents by befriending a human. Robin still did not trust him, but he had to admit that the boy seemed to make her very happy.
Robin hoped against hope that he was wrong about this human. That his fears of Maleficent getting hurt would never be realized. Sometimes he thought that this might be the happy ending he’d always hoped for Maleficent, the happy ending her parents would have wanted. Maybe it was possible. Maybe there could be peace between the faeries and humans just like Hermia, Lysander, and Maleficent had always told him. And maybe Maleficent and Stefan’s relationship was the first step toward that peace.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t bring himself to talk to Maleficent about the boy. The memory of the wars with the humans, of Hermia’s and Lysander’s murders by their kind, that was a wound that still ached.
And then, one dark evening, it happened again. Another human attack at the border of the Moors. The still night erupted into a flurry of shouts and screeches. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed in the distance. Word spread like wildfire: humans, a whole army of them, had come to overtake them and all of their precious land.
The strongest creatures of the Moors rushed to the front lines to defend their land, creatures with scales, creatures with feet that turned backward, creatures with leather wings. They crawled and croaked, snarled and slobbered, rushing past the beautiful Faerie Mound, which now seemed dark and gloomy, as if the land itself were upset by this turn of events.
“Hurry! She’s out there alone!” a creature with black spiky fur shouted loudly as he galloped toward the border.
Robin heard the creature from the brush nearby. He flew up in front of him, forcing the creature to stop.
“Who is?” Robin demanded.
“Maleficent!” the creature answered.
Robin’s heart dropped. Oh, Maleficent. The brave lass. No matter what her relationship with the human was, she truly loved the Moors and the Fair Folk who lived there. She had gone to the front lines, risking her life to protect them. They had to help her. “Come on!” he shouted to the dew faeries nearby. “Maleficent’s in trouble.”
They flew together at lightning speed, more faeries joining them along the way, creating a colorful swarm driven by the desire to get to their courageous Maleficent and help her defend their home.
As soon as they reached the border, they saw the creatures of the Moors fighting off the mass of sword-wielding humans. Robin scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of his horned friend. Finally, he spotted her.
In the distance, the leader of the humans, King Henry, was charging at his friend. Maleficent held her ground, her chin up in defiance. She hovered above the king, battering him with her wings, which now looked like gigantic feathered claws. Finally, the king lost his balance and fell off his horse.
“You will not have the Moors, now or ever!” Robin heard Maleficent cry. A surge of pride welled within him. Then he watched in horror as he saw the king raise his armored hand toward Maleficent.
“Watch out!” Robin cried, but his voice was muffled by all the chaos around him. The iron touched Maleficent’s cheek.
The tall faerie gasped in pain, her hands clutching her face. Noticing his enemy was distracted, King Henry scrambled to his feet and shuffled away as fast as he could. Robin suddenly felt horses, people, a
nd creatures brush past his shoulders. It seemed the rest of the human army was following their leader, retreating from the Moors.
Soon the sounds of violence gave way to sounds of horses galloping into the night. The Fair Folk cheered. They had done it. They had defended their home from destructive, greedy humans once more.
Robin looked around frantically, having lost Maleficent in the crowd. Finally, he saw her. She was flying away, a confused and worried expression on her face. Relieved to see that she was not hurt, he watched her go, resisting the urge to follow her.
He knew she would want to be alone at a time like this. While he hadn’t seen Stefan in the army, he wondered if he’d been involved in the attack somehow. Or, at the very least, if he’d known about it.
There were so many things that were not clear, things that Maleficent would have to sort out for herself. One thing was certain, however. Maleficent was a hero in the Moors that night.
When Robin didn’t see Maleficent for a couple of days, he figured she was still taking her alone time. After a week, he grew worried.
“Have you seen Maleficent?” he asked Sweetpea one sunny morning.
The purple faerie frowned. “You didn’t hear? I thought you would be the first to know.”
“Know what?” Robin was growing impatient now.
“Maleficent left the Moors.”
Robin was shocked. “She what?”
“She left,” Sweetpea said sorrowfully. “With the human, we think. He came to visit her at the border a couple of days after the battle. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of her since.”
Robin gasped. It couldn’t be true. Without responding to Sweetpea, he took to the sky, first soaring to the Rowan Tree, then to the rest of Maleficent’s favorite spots in the Moors. She was nowhere to be found.
He flew up and out, higher and higher, farther and farther away from the Moors. He searched acres upon acres of land without seeing any sign of her.
Finally, he gave up, returning home with his head hung low. It wasn’t safe for him out in the human world, and it was clear Maleficent did not want to be found. He sighed, hoping that she was okay. That maybe, just maybe, she’d found her happily ever after, after all.
Over the next few weeks, a piercing wind blew through the Moors, and a collective shiver hit the creatures there. Something was not right. They could all feel it. Great change was in the air.
One day, worrisome chatter from local sparrows reached the Moors, chatter that could only be about Maleficent. Sweetpea took the birds to Robin’s birch tree, knowing he would want to be the first to hear their tale. They spoke of a horned faerie whose wings had been brutally cut and taken by her human companion. Who wandered around, using a wooden staff to steady her. Who had taken refuge in the ruins of a long-abandoned castle nearby.
Robin sprung into the air. “We have to go to her!” While he had always been suspicious of Stefan, he would never have guessed the boy would have betrayed Maleficent in such a horrific way. Taking her wings! He couldn’t imagine the pain she had gone through.
Wait, the birds chirped. There is more. The human took the wings to the castle to prove that he avenged the dying king. And now he is to be King Henry’s successor.
“He did it to gain the throne!” Robin shouted, even more outraged.
“What about Maleficent?” Sweetpea interjected. “Is she in the castle ruins now?”
According to the sparrows, Maleficent was seen rescuing a raven in trouble near the ruins. The raven, a friend of a friend, was named Diaval. He had been caught in the net of two farmers with clubs in their hands and snarling dogs at their sides. She had waved her staff and turned Diaval into a man, saving his life. Diaval now served as her companion in the castle ruins, and she changed him from raven to man at her will.
Robin and Sweetpea stared at the birds. Maleficent had saved an animal in need. That, at least, sounded like her. But the way she had done it…the forces she had summoned to completely change him into a new form at her whim…that was very powerful magic, magic that surfaced only when one was under great emotional distress. While Maleficent, like the other faeries, had always had powers to help plants grow, heal animals, usher along streams, and the like, they’d never seen her—or any faerie, for that matter—do anything like this. This was a dark magic.
Stunned, the faeries thanked the birds for the information. Then they sat silently in the birch tree, processing what they had just learned.
“We need to give her some more time,” Sweetpea finally said, articulating what they were both thinking, no matter how much it grieved them. “She’s been through too much. She is not herself.”
Robin nodded. Sweetpea gently touched his arm. “She will return when she’s ready.”
They sat there for a long time, thinking about the kind, strong faerie they had all raised together. A faerie who knew the Moors, who represented the Moors better than anyone. And now, just as she had transformed the raven called Diaval, she, too, had been transformed.
and weaving to avoid being hit by a stray broom or loose rag in the bustling preparations, the tiny flower pixie Knotgrass made her way toward the castle’s Great Hall. She didn’t want to miss a moment of that day’s celebration. For that day, Princess Aurora was to be christened. And Knotgrass, along with the other two flower pixies who called the castle home, was to play a big part in the ceremony.
As she flew down one of the long hallways, Knotgrass was joined by Thistlewit and Flittle. The other two flower pixies were younger than Knotgrass and, in her opinion, were utter fools. They had no idea how important that day was. While Knotgrass was wearing her finest red dress, she doubted that the others had barely even bothered to clean up as she had. Thistlewit, the youngest of the three, was in her usual green dress, its long skirt made up of various leaves that seemed almost to be wilting. Her hair was disheveled and she was humming an aggravating little tune under her breath. Flying right behind her was Flittle. This pixie was, as usual, surrounded by butterflies that hovered around her head. She wore her favorite blue outfit, complete with a little blue pointed hat. Blue, Flittle liked to remind everyone, was her favorite color. Knotgrass found her obsession with the color infuriating, but today she didn’t have the time to care.
Knotgrass believed she was the only reason the pixies were safe in the castle at all. And while the others made fun of her, calling her cranky and saying her wings would be wrinkled with worry lines if wings could have lines, Knotgrass didn’t give it much thought. Because whether Flittle and Thistlewit liked to admit it, she was their leader. And if it hadn’t been for her, who knew what would have happened to them?
Until recently, they had lived in the Faerie Moors. Once upon a time, they’d known every bog and every glen. They’d known where the snow faeries played and where the stone faeries gathered their rocks. They’d known where to find the best reflection of oneself at different times of day and where to get the perfect flowers for one’s hair.
But that was before Maleficent had returned to the Moors, wingless and changed, a dark look in her eye. Though the Moors had never really had a leader before, she’d become the leader now. She scared the living fireflies out of the Fair Folk—Knotgrass, Thistlewit, and Flittle included. There’d been rumors that she’d had a tumultuous relationship with King Stefan at one point, that she wanted revenge for whatever wrong he had done to her. Knotgrass knew that could mean only one thing: another war. And this time, she wanted to be safely away from all the drama, protected in the warm, dry castle.
When the pixies had decided they wanted to make the human world their home, Knotgrass had appealed to Stefan, begging him for asylum, for a place in his court. He had agreed, clearly wanting to please his new wife, Queen Leila, who welcomed them in the court. But he didn’t seem all that content with the decision. This was their one chance to get on his good side. And she didn’t want to mess it
up.
Ariving in the Great Hall, Knotgrass, Flittle, and Thistlewit paused for a moment, overwhelmed by the sight before them. They had never seen the hall so beautiful. The large chandeliers that hung from the ceiling were bright with the light of a hundred candles. On the stone walls, more candles glimmered in gold sconces. The royal thrones had been covered in fine fabric and the wooden armrests had been polished until they shone. Behind the seats, beams of sun burst through the large stained glass windows, turning everything they touched a lovely shade of purple.
Flying over the crowd, Knotgrass led the others to their place at the base of the thrones. They watched as King Stefan and Queen Leila entered through the huge doors at the back of the room. Knotgrass smiled, hearing the oohs and aahs of the guests as they took in the sight of the beautiful couple. She had to admit, the king and queen did complement each other perfectly: Stefan with his dark wavy hair, sun-kissed complexion, and broad shoulders; Leila with her fair skin, blond hair, and small frame. Yes, Knotgrass thought, both so perfect. Yet if the rumors were true, one of them had a secret…a torrid history that could ignite the next war.
Knotgrass shook her head. She was doing it again—getting caught up in the past when the future was unfolding right before her eyes. Focusing her attention back on the royal pair, she saw Queen Leila holding baby Aurora, Stefan close to her side, his expression unreadable. Then the christening officially began.
First the king and queen welcomed their guests, saying how honored they were by the outpouring of love for their daughter. Then a minstrel played a tune and a poet read a sonnet, each praising Aurora and wishing her a long and happy life. Finally, when that was all over, Stefan nodded to the pixies. It was their turn. Showtime.
Taking a deep breath, Knotgrass flew up in front of the bassinet. She smiled down at Aurora. The baby was sleeping peacefully, her blond curls ringing her head like a halo. “Sweet Aurora,” Knotgrass said, her tiny voice echoing through the hall. “I wish for you the gift of beauty.” She reached out and gently touched the baby’s forehead, magic coursing from her fingers onto Aurora. Yes, that was a wonderful gift, she thought. It will probably be the best gift of all. Smiling proudly, she turned and signaled to Flittle.
The Curse of Maleficent Page 2