Maleficent Page 6

  Maleficent peered through it and saw baby Aurora tucked in her bassinet, sleeping peacefully. Her lip curled back as she gazed at the baby’s soft, rosy cheeks. She looked a bit bigger than when she’d last seen her, a bit plumper, maybe, but just as beautiful. “I could almost feel sorry for it.” Beside her, Diaval nodded his raven head.

  Suddenly, Aurora opened her eyes and looked directly at Maleficent. In response, Maleficent made a mean face at the baby. Aurora smiled. Maleficent made an even meaner face. Aurora laughed and began to clap her hands.

  “I hate you,” Maleficent said.

  She was about to try to make the scariest face she could when she heard the loud bustle of the three pixies approaching. Quickly, she backed away from the window.

  The three pixies entered Aurora’s room and made their way to the bassinet. Immediately, the baby began to cry. Maleficent listened as the pixies argued among themselves about what they should do before finally deciding Aurora was hungry. They then proceeded to plop a whole banana, apple, and orange in with the baby before walking out of the room. Aurora’s screams grew louder.

  “It’s going to starve with those three looking after it,” Maleficent muttered. But that’s not my problem, she added silently. She turned and walked away, her shoulders tense until the sound of Aurora’s cries finally faded.

  For the next few weeks, Aurora was the least of Maleficent’s concerns, though she knew Diaval visited the baby every day. What he did while he was there, she didn’t know. But it felt a bit like a betrayal, in any event.

  Nevertheless, Maleficent’s focus was on King Stefan and his castle. On a daily basis she heard reports from Diaval that Stefan was said to be going mad in the wake of her curse. He was paranoid. Convinced that Maleficent would come back any day to wreak further damage and destruction, he had all his soldiers at the ready. He sent them to the Thorn Wall over and over again, hoping they could chop it down. Once, the soldiers had even catapulted large fireballs, trying to burn it down. But the Wall remained impenetrable, just as Maleficent had planned, and the thorny vines stopped the greedy humans in their tracks. Her parents had thought talk and reasoning could keep the humans from invading. But now it was more than evident that this—this barrier, this violence—was the only way.

  One morning, as Maleficent sat on her throne, contemplating how much things had changed since that long-ago day when she had met Stefan at the jewel pool, Diaval landed on the Mound. Transforming him back into a man, Maleficent waited for his daily report.

  “You saw nothing?” she asked when he finished his report.

  Diaval shook his head. “No, mistress,” he said softly, aware that this would not make Maleficent happy. “The castle is locked up tight. I couldn’t see inside.” He went on to explain that in fear of another visit from Maleficent, Stefan had ordered windows to be boarded up, the drawbridge to be raised, and all entrances to be guarded by double the men. He was not taking any chances.

  Maleficent’s fist clenched tightly around the top of her staff. She despised Stefan. Pure and simple. “He’s hiding from me,” she said, sneering. “He always was a coward. Fine. Let him rot in there. His child is doomed and there’s nothing he can do about it.”

  Standing beside her, Diaval kept quiet, waiting for Maleficent to do what she always inevitably did—turn him into a raven so he wouldn’t ask questions or bother her. Maleficent felt his gaze on her but ignored it. Lately, she hadn’t wanted to transform him. She knew that he would go and visit Aurora as soon as he had wings. And for some reason, that irked Maleficent.

  Growing impatient, Diaval tapped Maleficent on the shoulder to get her attention. Turning, she looked down at the spot where his fingers had brushed her shoulder, an unreadable expression on her face. “What is it?” she asked.

  “Aren’t you going to change me?” he retorted.

  “Why?” Maleficent queried, curious if he would tell her the real reason.

  But instead of saying he wanted to see Aurora, he replied, “I prefer my own form.”

  Shrugging, Maleficent waved her hand and transformed Diaval back into a raven. With a caw, he rose into the air and began to fly away. But Maleficent’s voice stopped him. “Diaval,” she called. Veering, he flew back. When he was once more in front of her, she added, “Are you going to stay close or do I have to put you in a cage?”

  His feathers ruffled, Diaval flew over and landed on top of Maleficent’s staff. It seemed his trip to the cottage would have to wait.

  WHILE MALEFICENT HATED TO ADMIT IT, DIAVAL WASN’T THE ONLY ONE WHO WAS CURIOUS ABOUT THE BABY. As the days turned into weeks and then into months, the curiosity ate at Maleficent. It ate at her while she wandered the Moors, checking on the Thorn Wall. It ate at her while she sat on her throne, listening to the buzzing of faeries complaining or gossiping. The curiosity nearly overwhelmed her when she stumbled upon a bird and her newly hatched babies, their little beaks jabbing at the air helplessly. And when she saw three pixies that bore an uncanny resemblance to Knotgrass, Thistlewit, and Flittle in the middle of a fight that caused them to ignore their little faerie children, the curiosity got the best of her.

  Before she could think twice, she found herself parting the Wall and making her way into the forest. With purposeful strides, she moved toward the cottage in the clearing. Arriving, Maleficent saw that the back door was wide open and the pixies were nowhere in sight. But Aurora was. The infant had grown into a beautiful toddler with soft blond curls and rosy cheeks. As Maleficent watched, Aurora backed herself down the two steps and then began to toddle about. She burbled and giggled to herself, clearly used to being alone. Something we have in common, Maleficent thought, despite herself.

  Determined to get over her curiosity, Maleficent approached the baby. Leaning down, she made the scariest face she could and screamed, “Ahhhhh!”

  It worked! The baby began to wail and throw her arms about. Smiling, Maleficent waited for Aurora to run away. And sure enough, the baby did run. But to her surprise, Aurora ran straight at her. Then she threw her little arms around Maleficent’s legs and buried her head in the faerie’s long dark robes.

  “Off! Off!” Maleficent cried, pushing Aurora away as though she were a bug. But the baby just threw herself right back on Maleficent and continued to cry piteously. Then Aurora raised her arms, silently begging to be picked up.

  Maleficent glanced around. Despite the loud wails, no one seemed to be coming. And if no one was coming, that meant the baby was going to keep crying. And all that crying was giving her a terrible headache.…

  But no, Maleficent resolved. She would not fall for the big blue watery eyes that looked up at her hopefully. She folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. Aurora kept crying. Before she could stop herself, Maleficent leaned down and picked up the wailing child. “Shut your mouth,” she said, though her tone was softer than the words she uttered.

  Instantly, Aurora melted into Maleficent. Wrapping her pudgy arms around Maleficent’s neck, she whimpered and gasped for a moment. As Aurora calmed down, Maleficent tried to ignore the warm feeling spreading through her body. She tried to ignore the fresh scent of Aurora’s hair. She tried not to feel the fluttering heartbeat against her own chest and the way it made her instinctively want to tighten her grip and keep the baby safe. This was the enemy. She had to stay strong.

  Then Aurora let out an adorable babble and, with absolutely no fear, reached up and grabbed one of Maleficent’s horns. Shocked, Maleficent pulled her head back. Aurora’s bottom lip quivered a bit. Curious to see what she would do next, Maleficent slowly bent her head ever so slightly. Aurora’s lip stopped quivering instantly and once more she let out a giggle and latched on, completely unafraid.

  It was too much for Maleficent. Quickly she put Aurora down and, without looking back, left the clearing. But as she made her way back to the Faerie Mound, her mind was racing. She couldn’t deny i
t. Aurora was sort of, kind of, maybe just a little cute. And that she even thought that at all made Maleficent furious at herself. Because she couldn’t afford to think the baby was cute or sweet or cuddly or precious. No. She had cursed her to eternal sleep. So there was no point in even paying attention to Aurora. Was there?

  Yet as the saying goes, the best-laid plans often go wrong, and Maleficent quickly found that she couldn’t help keeping an eye on Aurora. Diaval didn’t help the situation, either. Growing bolder about his attachment to the infant, he now dragged Maleficent along with him when he went to watch Aurora—which he had to do, often. The three pixies were useless, more concerned with themselves than with the baby they had been charged to protect. Oftentimes, as she and Diaval watched from the shadows, Maleficent would overhear them bemoaning their lot in life, stuck in the awkward human-sized bodies, out in the middle of nowhere, unable to partake in the royal trappings, and forbidden by Stefan to use magic unless absolutely necessary. They occasionally paid attention to Aurora, but for the most part, the baby fended for herself.

  One particularly beautiful afternoon, Maleficent reclined in a tree next to Diaval, who kept a raven eye on Aurora as she played below. Nearby, the pixies had laid out a picnic. Fresh berries, bread, and cheese lay neatly on a brightly colored towel. But Aurora wanted nothing to do with the food. She was having too much fun playing with the butterflies that were flittering around nearby.

  Glancing over and watching the baby play, Maleficent was struck, not for the first time, by Aurora’s complete innocence. The baby had no idea what her future held. She had no clue what her father had done or who her mother had married. Aurora just knew that that day it was sunny and there were butterflies to chase. Maleficent felt anger bubble up in her chest. She had been that innocent once, that trusting and carefree. And look what it had gotten her. Shaking her head to clear her negative thoughts, Maleficent tossed a nut to Diaval. She needed to amuse herself with something other than thoughts about her past. Something to remind her that she was free to do what she wanted, when she wanted.

  Noticing that the pixies had all sat down and were lounging lazily in the warm sun, Maleficent smiled mischievously. She made a tiny gesture, mimicking the movement of pulling someone’s hair. On the ground below, Thistlewit let out a yelp.

  The faerie immediately looked next to her, convinced that Flittle had pulled her hair. In retaliation, she pulled a strand of Flittle’s hair—hard. Soon the three pixies were in the midst of an all-out hair-tugging war. With a satisfied smile, Maleficent leaned back and tossed a nut into her mouth.

  For a moment, Maleficent just sat there, reveling in the shrieks and cries from the three pixies below. Robin would have been proud of her trickery—maybe there was some of the old Maleficent left somehow. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Aurora chasing a butterfly. The baby’s little feet pounded on the warm grass, her hands were out in front of her, and her fingers grabbed frantically. Looking ahead, Maleficent raised an eyebrow. Intent on catching the butterfly, Aurora was oblivious that she was heading straight toward danger.

  “The little beast is about to fall off that ledge,” Maleficent said nonchalantly to Diaval.

  With a worried “awk,” Diaval flew off the branch and to the pixies for help. He began to caw wildly, flying around their blanket. Unfortunately, Knotgrass, Thistlewit, and Flittle were far too absorbed in their fight even to give notice to Diaval, shooing him away absentmindedly as they continued to bicker.

  Meanwhile, Maleficent watched as Aurora continued to run headlong toward the ledge. She was only fifty feet away. Then forty. Then thirty. Maleficent glanced over her shoulder and saw that the pixies still had no clue what was going on and Diaval was still cawing madly. The coast was clear. Quickly, she made her way out of the tree and raced over to the baby. Just as Aurora’s little foot took a step into nothing, Maleficent grabbed the baby and pulled her back. Seeing Maleficent’s familiar face, Aurora smiled.

  Maleficent quickly plopped Aurora down safely and then retreated to the tree. A moment later Diaval landed next to her. Giving up on the pixies, he had flown over to try to help Aurora but found her safe and sound. Now he glanced at Maleficent and cocked his head, a quizzical look in his eyes.

  “What?” she asked innocently. So she had saved Aurora’s life. What was the big deal? It certainly didn’t mean she liked the brat or anything.

  TIME PASSED QUICKLY IN THE FOREST, AND BEFORE LONG, AURORA WAS NO LONGER A TODDLER BUT A CHILD OF EIGHT. The dangerous baby years were over, and while the pixies had been practically useless to an infant, they seemed capable enough of taking care of a young girl. So Maleficent mostly stayed in the Moors, safe from humans and content in the knowledge that Stefan, as all of Diaval’s reports indicated, was a sad, mad, lonely king. But on occasion, she would make a visit to see Aurora.

  Once, when Aurora was still a toddler, Maleficent had followed Diaval to the clearing and waited in the shadows of the trees as, in raven form, Diaval played with the girl. Fall had turned the leaves gold and red and sent many of them drifting to the ground. Aurora, her blond hair long and loose, sat in the midst of a big pile of leaves, giggling. She lifted a handful and threw them into the air, laughing as a few landed on the black bird. Reaching out, she gently stroked Diaval’s thick black feathers. “What a pretty bird,” she said, her voice pleasant to the ear.

  Maleficent squirmed. At one time, the baby had been the only thing to irk her. Yet more and more, she found that Diaval’s spending time with Aurora irked her far more. Or was she irked because he could play with her out in the open, with such ease? That afternoon Maleficent had shaken her head to clear the ridiculous thought and walked away from the clearing.

  Yet she was never gone for very long. Even though she hated to admit it, she felt an odd pull to Aurora. And there was another draw, as well. It was too much temptation to play tricks on the three pixies, a break from her serious thoughts and a brief reminder of happier days spent playing tricks on the other faeries with Robin. Often the thought of disrupting the little pixies’ lives for even a few moments was enough to send Maleficent through the Wall and into the human forest.

  One summer morning she and Diaval, in his human form, made their way to the clearing. Hearing Knotgrass’s nasally voice, Maleficent inched up to the edge of the cottage. Diaval followed and together they peered through an open window. On the other side, the three pixies were sitting at the kitchen table playing a game of checkers. As usual, they were bickering.

  “What’s this?” Flittle said, reaching out and grabbing Knotgrass’s hand. Prying it open, she revealed one of the markers. “You’re cheating!”

  “I resent the insinuation,” Knotgrass huffed.

  “There’s no insinuation. I’ve caught you in the act,” Flittle retorted. “You cheating hedgepig.”

  As the three began to hurl insults at one another, Maleficent raised a finger. A single drop of water fell onto Knotgrass’s head. She brushed it away absently.

  Plink! Another drop fell. Again, Knotgrass brushed away the water.

  Plink! Plink! Plink! Unable to ignore the water any longer, Knotgrass looked up, trying to see where it was coming from. Not seeing an obvious leak, she moved over. But it was no use. Plink! Plink! More drops fell, landing only on Knotgrass.

  Shooting a dirty look at Flittle, Knotgrass snapped, “Stop doing that!”

  “I’m not doing anything,” Flittle protested.

  Hiding on the other side of the window, Maleficent stifled a laugh. It was so easy to rattle the pixies. Her shoulders shook as they tried to figure out the origin of the water, blaming each other and then a leak. But as Knotgrass pointed out, a leak would only happen if it was raining. And it most definitely wasn’t raining.

  Plink! Plink! Plink! Plink!

  The drops came faster and faster, each one falling only on Knotgrass. Finally, she slammed her hand dow
n on the table. “Stop it!” she screamed.

  Instantly, the drops ceased. Knotgrass anxiously stared at the ceiling as though waiting for the next wave. But when, after a few moments, no more water fell, she sighed and sat down.

  And then it poured.

  A torrent of water fell on Knotgrass, drenching her instantly. The other two pixies began to laugh, but as they did, a wave of water poured down the stairs, washing over them. They all screamed.

  Outside, Maleficent was racked with laughter. Her body shook and she struggled not to make a sound as she waved her hand again. Inside the cottage thunder boomed and lightning cracked. Looking at Diaval next to her, Maleficent smiled, eager for him to join in the fun, to be her partner in crime as Robin had been so many years earlier. But his expression was serious.

  “Oh, come on,” Maleficent said. “That is funny!”

  Diaval didn’t respond right away and Maleficent could tell he was working up the courage to speak. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Mistress,” he began, “there’s something I need to know.”

  Maleficent let out a sigh. He was ruining all her fun. “And what is that?” she asked, not bothering to hide her aggravation. What possibly could be so important that Diaval would take away from one of the few carefree moments Maleficent allowed herself?

  His next question shocked the smirk right off her face. “When are you planning to revoke your curse?”

  “Who said I was planning on revoking it?” she asked, turning her attention back to the cottage. “I hate that little beast.”