Maleficent Page 11

  Then he leaned back up. “An enchantment, you say?”

  Maleficent nearly cried out in frustration. At the same time, the pixies shouted, “Kiss her!” and, together, pushed him back down.

  For a moment, Phillip struggled, and Maleficent felt panic rise in her throat. But then he stopped fighting and, once more, leaned down.

  And then, ever so slowly, he gently kissed her.

  It was the perfect kiss. Soft, sweet, full of unspoken promises. It was the kiss girls dreamed of as they lay in bed at night. It was the kiss poems were written about. It was the kiss of fairy tales and romance. Maleficent couldn’t have imagined such a perfect kiss sixteen years earlier when she cursed an innocent babe.

  But it didn’t matter how perfect the kiss was or how much love Phillip felt.

  Aurora didn’t wake up.

  “IS SOMETHING SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN NOW?” Phillip stood up straight and looked at the pixies expectantly.

  Maleficent’s heart sank. Hope fled and all the bitterness and despair that she had pushed aside in that moment as Phillip’s and Aurora’s lips met came flooding back. She should have known. True love didn’t exist. Aurora would never wake up. Maleficent would never be able to explain herself. They would never be able to walk through the Moors together, never watch a sunset or play with the snow faeries in their meadow. Aurora would sleep on…forever. Maleficent suddenly realized that her parents ultimately had been right—there really were good humans out there, ones who appreciated and loved nature as much as the faeries did. She realized that peace was possible between the races, that humans didn’t need to be dealt with violently. But she’d come to this realization far too late.

  Near the bed, the three pixies threw up their hands in frustration. They were upset as well, but for more selfish reasons. If King Stefan found out they had failed to wake up his daughter, there was no telling what he would do to them.

  “I was certain he was the one,” Flittle said to the others as she pushed Phillip out the door.

  Following him, Knotgrass nodded. “We have to keep looking. Scrape the bottom of the barrel. He doesn’t have to be a prince. He doesn’t even have to be handsome.”

  “Or even that clean,” Thistlewit added as they moved into the hallway and shut the door behind them.

  Stepping out of her hiding spot in the shadows of the bedroom, Maleficent made her way to the bed. Sinking at Aurora’s side, she looked at the beautiful princess. Even asleep, she looked kind and good, and Maleficent was racked anew with guilt for the punishment she had foolishly inflicted on the innocent girl. Who would have thought, all those long years before, that things would turn out that way? That the curse would be as great a punishment for Maleficent as it was for Aurora.

  Letting out a deep, sad sigh, she reached out and gently brushed a strand of Aurora’s hair from her face. Diaval stood at her side, his silent presence a small comfort to Maleficent. She took a deep breath and spoke softly, her voice cracking with emotion. “I will not ask you for forgiveness. What I have done is unforgivable. I was so lost in hatred and revenge. I never dreamed that I could love you so much. You stole what was left of my heart. And now I’ve lost you forever.” She paused, wiping a tear. “But I swear, no harm will come to you as long as I live…and not a day shall pass that I won’t miss your smile.…”

  Maleficent’s voice trailed off. There was nothing left she could say or do. This was the only good-bye she would ever get. And she wanted to make it count. Leaning over, she placed one hand over Aurora’s and gently kissed the girl on the forehead.

  A surge of magic filled the room.

  And then Aurora’s eyes fluttered open.

  Maleficent let out a gasp as the princess’s calm blue eyes met her unsure green ones. She was so happy that the girl was awake, but scared that Aurora was still angry.

  “Hello, Godmother,” Aurora said, beaming up at Maleficent, her smile bringing new light to the room.

  Maleficent’s throat constricted as her body was racked with emotion. Aurora was awake. And she didn’t hate her.

  But how could it be? Why had her kiss worked and not Phillip’s? And then Maleficent smiled as realization swept over her like a wave. She had been so focused on the love that had broken her heart that she had never stopped to think there was an even deeper, truer love: that of a mother and daughter. That was what Aurora had become to her—a daughter. She loved her unconditionally, without question. She would love her on the bad days and on the great days. When Aurora was near and when she was far. She would love her for the woman she would become and the girl she was now. That, Maleficent realized as she looked at Aurora’s huge smile, was the truest of loves.

  Bursting with happiness, Maleficent smiled back. “Hello, beastie.”

  Maleficent didn’t waste any time filling Aurora in on what had happened since she had pricked her finger. The girl listened closely as Maleficent told her about the pixies’ mission to find a prince to wake her and how they had failed. She even told her about the valiant effort Phillip had made. While she had wanted to skip it, a knowing look from Diaval changed her mind. It was only fair, after all the lies that had been told, to speak the truth. Aurora was going to face a tough decision in the days to come—whether to stay with her father or be with Maleficent—and she deserved all the information before she made up her mind.

  When Maleficent was finished, Aurora didn’t say anything. She simply nodded and slowly sat up. Then, with Maleficent’s help, she shakily got to her feet. Now that she was awake, she wanted to speak to her father.

  Making their way out of the room, they found the hall deserted. The two guards were gone and the lights along the wall had been blown out. With a growing sense of dread, Maleficent and Diaval, now a raven, led Aurora down one hall after another. They descended a long, winding staircase and moved past the iron thorns and brambles that had burned Maleficent earlier. Aurora’s eyes grew wide as she took in the sharp objects she hadn’t noticed before, clearly placed there by her father. While Aurora didn’t say it, Maleficent knew the girl was scared. And with good reason. This did not look like the castle of fairy tales and happy endings. It was a dark and evil place, vibrating with hate.

  Finally, they reached the balcony that looked down over the Great Hall. The huge room was dark save for a single pool of light that illuminated the center. Cautiously, they moved down the stairs and closer to the light.

  Maleficent kept her gaze straight ahead, focused on the two large thrones just visible in the shadows. They were the same thrones where Stefan and his queen had sat while their infant daughter was showered with gifts at her christening. The same thrones that had borne witness to Maleficent’s curse and the terrible aftermath. Now they once more sat there, silent witnesses. But to what? Maleficent wondered. What did they know that she did not?

  As Maleficent turned to make sure Aurora was okay, her eyes grew wide. The girl was gone. But where? She had been there just a moment before. Turning, Maleficent frantically scanned the empty room. “Aurora?” she called out. From the darkness, she heard the muffled sound of someone trying to speak. “Aurora!” Maleficent cried out, racing toward the sound.

  Finding herself in the middle of the circle of light, Maleficent paused, uncertain. Something didn’t feel right. With a growing sense of dread, she looked up. And then she gulped. Hanging there, right above her head, was a giant iron net.

  Before she could move, the net fell toward her. Dropping her staff, Maleficent raised her hands above her head to try to block it. But it was no use. The moment the iron touched her exposed flesh, she felt a searing pain and heard the sizzle as her skin burned. Unable to handle the intense pain, Maleficent fell to her knees, the net covering her the way her wings used to. But while her wings had brought her comfort then, the net now just brought her misery.

  Her breath coming in gasps, Maleficent was barely aware of the footsteps of a
dozen men as Stefan’s soldiers surrounded her. They prodded the net with long spears, causing the iron to move against Maleficent and find new pieces of skin to burn. She clenched her jaw, convinced it couldn’t get any worse. And then, through the fog of pain, she heard Aurora cry out.

  “Don’t kill her!” the princess shouted.

  Raising her head slightly, Maleficent saw that Stefan had arrived and was now holding Aurora out in front of him. It had been a long time since Maleficent had seen Stefan, and she was shocked by how drastically he had deteriorated. His sunken cheeks were red, and his shoulders stooped. The thick hair he had always worn long was thinning and gray. And the eyes that stared down at Maleficent were bloodshot and empty.

  An evil smile slowly spread across Stefan’s face as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of Aurora’s arm. Maleficent cringed. Stefan had completely lost it. He had been intent on destroying Maleficent for so long that he didn’t even realize he was hurting his own daughter. In fact, he seemed annoyed by her, and when she pleaded once more for him to stop hurting Maleficent, Stefan pushed her backward. The force of the shove threw Aurora to the ground. From where she lay, she looked up in horror, shocked by her father’s violence.

  Desperate to save Aurora from any more pain or disappointment, Maleficent tried to move under the net. But it was no use. The iron was doing its job, and with every passing moment she grew weaker. If only there was something else she could do. Some other way out of this horrific situation…

  And then she heard Diaval’s familiar caw.

  Despite the pain that continued to wash over her in waves, Maleficent smiled. Yes, she thought, that would work. That would work quite nicely. Softly, she began to mutter.

  There was a swoosh of magic and the curtains on the windows blew as wind filled the Great Hall. And then, as Stefan and his soldiers watched, Diaval began to transform. His wings grew longer, the black feathers replaced by dark scales, until they spanned nearly the entire length of the hall. His beak became a large snout with a mouth full of sharp teeth, and his neck extended so that the top of his head nearly grazed the ceiling. And his two feet turned into long, powerful, scale-covered legs. On the end of each foot, giant razor-sharp claws dug into the stone floor. Rearing back his head, Diaval let out a loud roar. Before the terrified soldiers stood something they had never seen before, something that even this magical land had thought to be a myth. Diaval had become a dragon.

  Maleficent raised her head and watched as a stunned Stefan took a step back. If the pain hadn’t been so overwhelming, she would have smiled to see him struck down with fear. Then she turned her head slightly and saw that Aurora had climbed to her feet and was running away. As she watched, the girl disappeared up the long staircase that led to the tower. And then Maleficent did allow herself a smile. Because no matter what happened next, no matter what pain Stefan inflicted on Maleficent, or Diaval inflicted on Stefan, Aurora wouldn’t be there to witness it. She would be saved from that horror. And after everything the girl had gone through, one less horror was a priceless gift.

  AS AURORA MADE HER ESCAPE, DIAVAL CONTINUED TO WREAK HAVOC ON THE GREAT HALL. With a swish of his tail, he knocked down a line of soldiers. He let out a roar, raining fire down on another group. As he raised his head, the two large horns that dominated his forehead smashed into one of the large chandeliers, shattering it into a thousand pieces. The broken crystal fell on the soldiers still on their feet, causing them to scream in pain.

  Under the net, Maleficent stayed curled in a helpless ball, weakening every moment she spent surrounded by the iron. Her staff was too far away to reach, and without it, she felt even more powerless. After a while, she could only lie there and listen as Diaval roared. She could only lie there and do nothing as soldiers stumbled past her, trying to escape the fire-breathing dragon. She could only lie there and think, This is all my fault.

  The minutes seemed to stretch on for hours, and Maleficent began to think she might never escape her iron prison. Then, through the haze of pain that continued to rack her body, Maleficent heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Unlike the hurried, frightened ones of the soldiers, these footsteps were determined, confident. She looked up, already knowing who she would see.

  Stefan was approaching, his eyes glued on Maleficent, trapped under the net. They bore into her, all traces of the feelings he had once had for her gone. For the first time, Maleficent truly saw him for the despicable man he had become. True, she knew he had changed physically—the boyish build and unlined face replaced by girth and wrinkles. And she knew he had grown colder. That was evidenced by his murdering King Henry and cutting off her wings, to name a few offenses. But before, those things had made her hate him even more. Now she felt almost sorry for him.

  There was nothing left of the boy she had fallen in love with in the Moors. No hint of the playfulness that Stefan had easily displayed as they chatted beside the bogs or walked through the forest. This man before her was hard, cold, and dead inside. The years of building iron walls around his castle had had an adverse effect—they had caused him to build an iron wall around his heart. Staring into his eyes, Maleficent felt sad. Sad and frightened. For there was no telling what he would do now. Desperately, she reached for her staff again. But it was still just out of her grasp.

  Seeing her struggle, Stefan smiled cruelly. “I still regret not killing you that night,” he said harshly.

  The words cut deep and any sadness she had begun to feel for Stefan vanished in an instant. Memories of that night long before, when he had taken her heart and her wings, came flooding back. He might as well have killed her for the damage he had done. That night had set in motion a horrible chain of events. In a way, that night had made her a heartless monster just like him—until she met Aurora and things began to change. Yet she would never admit that to him. Not now. So instead, Maleficent gathered her remaining strength and said, “You were always weak.”

  Stefan’s face turned red and his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. Maleficent knew she had gone too far. But what did it matter now? The chances of her escaping were far from good. As if to prove her right, Stefan raised his heavy sword high above his head. Then, with a loud scream, he brought it down.…

  Maleficent closed her eyes, waiting for the blow.

  But it never came.

  Instead, there was a roar followed by a loud thud. Opening her eyes, Maleficent saw Stefan lying on the floor a few feet away, and standing above her was Diaval the dragon. She smiled at him as he lowered his long neck and gently grabbed the iron net in his teeth. Then he pulled it off Maleficent, freeing her at last.

  As soon as the net was gone, Maleficent grabbed her staff and scrambled to her feet. As the blood rushed back to her limbs, a wave of dizziness hit her, forcing her to steady herself on her staff for a moment. Taking a few deep breaths, she waited for her head to clear. Then she stood up straight. Adrenaline flooded through her as she took in the chaos around her. Soldiers were running in every direction, fearful of the giant creature in their midst. Diaval had broken nearly every chandelier in the Great Hall and his fiery breath had scorched the walls, turning them black. His giant claws had left deep gashes in the stone floor, while his long tail had taken out several large pillars near the hall’s grand entrance. Scanning the room, she saw Stefan struggling to his feet, and without hesitation, he began to charge toward her. But he didn’t make it far. Diaval stepped between them and, with another mighty roar, renewed his fight with Stefan and the soldiers.

  Using the distraction, Maleficent raced toward the stairs unnoticed. She needed to find Aurora…immediately.

  As Maleficent reached the top of the stairs, she turned back. She watched as Diaval hissed and snapped at the men, trying to keep them at bay. But more and more soldiers came. They had sharp weapons and he was not used to his dragon body. She saw panic in his eyes as he whipped his tail, knocking a few more men down. Then Di
aval turned toward the far wall. Racing forward, he smashed through it, sending the iron plates on the other side to the ground. Through the gaping hole, Maleficent could make out one of the castle’s many towers nearby. Its rounded sides offered no footholds, so the soldiers had no way of climbing it. But Diaval’s claws could easily dig into the stone. Seeing his chance to escape, Diaval began to climb up the tower wall and disappeared from view a moment later.

  Maleficent turned and frantically looked around. Where could Aurora have gone? There was a long hall to her right and another to her left. But straight ahead, slightly swaying, was a huge door. That had to be it. Racing through, Maleficent found herself in front of another set of stairs. They circled up, up, and up, leading high into the tower that at that very moment Diaval was scaling.

  Quickly, Maleficent began to climb the stairs, her heart pounding with the fear of what she might find. Aurora didn’t know the castle. She didn’t know the soldiers or the cruelty angry men were capable of expressing. She had lived her entire life protected from such things. And now she had been thrown right into the middle, witness to some of the worst acts of human nature. Maleficent ached at the thought of Aurora frightened and alone, wandering the castle halls. Her footsteps quickened, and finally, she reached the room at the top of the tower. It was empty. On the far side of the room, a door led out to a long bridge that connected the tower with the one next to it. And standing there, in the middle of the bridge, was Aurora. Sighing with relief, Maleficent ran out.

  But her relief was short-lived.

  From behind her, she heard a whish, and then she felt a familiar pain rack her body. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Stefan. He had a long iron whip in his hand and a crazed look in his eyes. He took a step forward, lashing the whip over and over in front of him. Raising her staff, Maleficent stood her ground. She was not going to let him defeat her, not now. Not when Aurora was so close. Narrowing her eyes in determination, Maleficent took a step forward, swinging her staff.