Maleficent

by Disney Book Group

  But who?

  Hearing voices outside the room, Maleficent shifted nervously. Wrapping her wings tightly around her, she forced herself to a sitting position. The voices were growing louder, more heated. For the first time in a long while, Maleficent was frightened.

  She cautiously lowered her feet to the floor. The pain was terrible, but she wanted to be standing when the owners of the voices revealed themselves. Walking slowly across the floor, she made her way toward a circular opening in the wall. Peering through, she found herself looking into a dark, empty tunnel.

  Taking a deep breath, Maleficent entered the tunnel. She could see a small shaft of light at the other end and limped toward it. As the light grew brighter, the tunnel widened, finally opening into a huge cavernous circle. Maleficent’s eyes widened as she took in the room that went up, up, up, its sides covered with branches. It was as if she were inside a giant bird’s nest.

  Her eyes became wider still when she saw, standing in the middle of the nest, ten towering figures. Each figure had a large set of horns on its head and dark heavy wings hanging from its back.

  Dark Fey.

  Maleficent gasped. They looked just like her. But how could that be? She’d thought she was the only one of her kind. As she got closer, she saw that one of the Dark Fey was holding up the iron bullet that had pierced her stomach. His skin was dry and cracked, like a desert riverbed, and his eyes were angry as the bullet sizzled between his fingers.

  “Do you hear it?” the Dark Fey, named Borra, said as the bullet continued to sizzle. He lifted it to his ear. “It’s a message from the humans. I hear it loud and clear. Time for us to die.”

  Another one of the Dark Fey stepped forward. Maleficent watched as he shook his head. His skin was darker and smoother than Borra’s. He was more muscular, and his stance was that of a warrior. Where Borra’s eyes were full of anger, this fey’s eyes held sadness and an ageless wisdom. He studied the bullet closely. “Humans have been using iron against us for centuries,” he pointed out.

  There were murmurs of agreement from a few of the other fey. “And we are almost extinct because of it, Conall!” Borra shouted angrily at the warrior. “They pulled iron from the earth. Made their shields and swords and drove us underground!” He once again lifted the bullet for all to see. “But this will finish us. I call for war right now!”

  Maleficent stepped back into the shadows. She had clearly stumbled upon a war council of some kind. Borra’s words echoed in her mind. Almost extinct, he had said. That was why she had spent her life believing she was alone. But she wasn’t. And these fey, at least some of them, were as distrusting of humans as she was. As the room filled with voices echoing Borra’s call to war, she noticed that Conall was quiet. He waited for everyone to settle before he spoke again.

  “There are too many humans,” he finally said when he had the group’s attention. “Too many kingdoms.”

  “So you would wait for them to find us?” Borra retorted. “To kill us all!”

  “We can’t win,” Conall said. “Not this way.”

  Borra shook his head. “You’re wrong, Conall,” he said. “We have something they didn’t plan on.” Then, to Maleficent’s surprise, Borra lifted into the air and flew—straight at her. As he hovered in front of her, his eyes locked on hers. She took another step back. How long had he known she was standing there? “We have…her,” Borra went on. “She has powers none of us possess.”

  “She is wounded, Borra,” Conall pointed out.

  That was it. Maleficent stepped into the light. She did not need these strangers talking about her as though she were a pawn in some game she didn’t even know about. “Who are you?” she yelled, making her voice as loud as possible despite the pain it caused her.

  In a flash, Borra flew closer to her, putting his face mere inches from her own. He breathed in deeply, his eyes glowing. “You reek of human,” he said with a sneer. “Maybe I’m wrong about you. Maybe Conall should have left you for dead at the bottom of the sea.”

  Maleficent’s eyes shifted to the handsome warrior fey. So it had been Conall who had carried her across the sea and to this place. She couldn’t help wondering…why?

  Shaking his head, Borra pulled back. “No,” he went on, his tone threatening. “It’s in there, isn’t it? It’s inside you.” Once again, he moved closer, his eyes dark and menacing.

  Reflexively, Maleficent raised her hand. A thin stream of green magic pooled at her fingertips, and then, with a flick of her hand, she sent it right at Borra. It hit him square in the chest, slamming him into the far wall. Maleficent, drained from the small use of her magic, dropped to the ground, panting.

  Borra smiled wickedly where he lay. Maleficent had done just what he had hoped: given a demonstration. She had shown everyone there how powerful she was, even in her current state. “You see?” he said proudly. “There is evil in her heart. And that is what will save us all.”

  “She needs to heal,” Conall said, his calm voice oddly comforting to Maleficent.

  Borra nodded. “You will help her, Conall,” he said. “And when she is ready, we go to war.”

  His message delivered, Borra flew off. The others waited a moment before they, too, disappeared into the depths of the Nest.

  Only Conall remained. He made his way to Maleficent, then stopped in front of her. He reached out a hand to help her up, but she pushed him away. His eyes lingered on her wound, which, due to her exertion, had reopened and was oozing thick black blood.

  Self-conscious, Maleficent touched her bandaged wound. Perhaps she had been quick—and wrong—to push him away so forcefully. “It was you who saved me?” she asked.

  Conall nodded. He turned to go and then looked back at her. “Come,” he said. “I’ll show you who we are.” He moved toward a large hole in the floor, which Maleficent hadn’t noticed during Borra’s blustering. Stepping to the edge, Conall turned his back to the hole. He looked at Maleficent, his kind eyes brightening, and then he fell back and disappeared.

  Inching forward, Maleficent peered over the rim of the hole. She couldn’t see anything. It was impossible to tell if there was a floor, or rocks, or something worse below. Still, she was curious. Getting to her feet, she moved so that her toes curled around the rim. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her foot…

  And fell.

  Maleficent tumbled through the air. Desperately attempting to gain control of the free fall, she tried to flap her wings. But she was too weak, and they wouldn’t move. She just kept falling. And she would have continued if Conall hadn’t caught her.

  “Don’t—” Maleficent started.

  “Easy,” Conall replied.

  The protest faded on her lips as she looked around. They were in some sort of makeshift hideout. It was dark, and a fine layer of mist covered everything. But through it, Maleficent could see dozens of Dark Fey moving through the nest-like space. Some were alone. Others were in groups. Maleficent’s jaw dropped as she observed the different types of Dark Fey.

  As they moved through the Nest, Conall explained. Tundra fey were pale, their wings and hair white. Smaller than the other fey, they were close to the ground, both physically and emotionally. Then there were the colorful jungle fey, with long limbs for jumping and swinging. Their wings were bright, each pair unique and compact. As Maleficent watched, one jungle fey spread her wings and then pulled them tight to her body so they virtually disappeared. That would have been helpful at dinner, Maleficent thought wryly.

  And there were more. The desert fey—like Borra—had gold-flecked skin and substantial jointed wings. And the forest fey were Maleficent’s kind. It was obvious from their massive dark wings and proportions similar to hers.

  But Conall revealed that no matter the kind, they were all Dark Fey. “Same as you,” he said.

  Maleficent was quiet as she watched the dozens of fey flit into and out of the Nest, ignoring her presence, because to them she was not unique. “How many are there?” she finally asked. “Of
…us?”

  “We are all that remain,” Conall said, landing on another level of the Nest far below the one they had come from.

  “My entire life—” Maleficent began, but her emotions overcame her. She had to turn away. Composing herself, she was silent for a long while, taking it all in. Conall had been somber when he said this was all that was left of the fey. But to her, the number seemed huge.

  Conall motioned to a ledge farther below them. Five young fey were standing back, nervously eyeing the edge. Their wings were spread out behind them as Udo, an older Tundra fey, instructed them. Maleficent recognized him from earlier. She watched as Udo began to nudge the group forward until they were inches from the edge. Maleficent saw the fear in the young feys’ eyes, and then, with a mighty push, Udo sent them all off, into the air. Maleficent gasped as they began to fall.

  “Those young ones should be connected to nature,” Conall said, his eyes glued to the fey. “Instead, they’re banished like the rest of us. Raised in exile.”

  “They belong on the Moors,” Maleficent said, nodding in agreement. “In the snow, in the deserts…”

  Conall sighed. “As more human kingdoms emerged, we kept moving,” he explained, “hiding in all the corners of the earth. But we knew they would find us eventually—even when we returned to our true home.”

  Maleficent watched him as he spoke. His face was full of unspoken pain, and she wondered how much he had seen and sacrificed. Her eyes drifted from the warrior to the young fey, who were now swooping and laughing as they caught the wind and flew around the Nest. Their faces were full of joy and innocence. They should never have to see what Conall—or Maleficent—had seen.

  “I can protect them,” she said.

  “How?” Conall asked. His tone was kind, but there was defensiveness to it. “By waging war against the humans? Even the one you raised as your own?” He paused, gauging Maleficent’s reaction. When she didn’t speak, he went on. “We’ve been watching you for several years.”

  At this, Maleficent startled. “And yet you stay hidden?” she asked, confused—and suddenly angry. If she had known there were others like her…what might her life have been like?

  “Because you were doing something we never thought possible,” Conall explained. “You were showing us the way forward.”

  Curious about what he meant, Maleficent narrowed her eyes and waited to hear more. She had simply been trying to survive and raise Aurora to love the Moors as she did.

  Conall continued. “Maybe we don’t have to hide from humans,” he told her. “Maybe we can exist without fear and war. Maybe we can find a way…together.”

  Maleficent’s response was swift. “That will never happen.” The pain in her stomach was a reminder of what happened when humans and faeries tried to coexist. The memory of Aurora looking at her with distrust was another.

  Conall shook his head. “It already has,” he said. “With you and Aurora.” Turning, he lifted into the air. But before he left, he looked back at her. “Welcome home, Maleficent.”

  Maleficent’s thoughts whirled around her head. Home. Was that where she was now? Could she learn to trust the Nest—and the other fey? She had spent so long feeling out of place, even among the Moors. Was this where she belonged?

  Summoning all her strength, she slowly flew back toward the top of the Nest. If that was true, she wondered why she still felt unhappy.

  AURORA HAD GIVEN UP. AFTER HOURS OF SEARCHING THE MOORS, SHE REALIZED THAT MALEFICENT WASN’T COMING HOME. AT LEAST, NOT RIGHT AWAY. With a heavy heart, she got back on her horse and rode to Castle Ulstead. The huge structure was dark when she arrived, with only a few candles lit to guide her way down the hallway to her room.

  Her room. It seemed strange to think of it that way. Her real room was back in her own castle, but Phillip had insisted that she stay close while they tried to figure out what to do for the king. Aurora had had no choice but to say yes.

  Now, stepping forward, she sighed. She was exhausted. All she wanted to do was lie down, close her eyes, and have a few moments of dreamless sleep. But it seemed her wish was not to be granted.

  “We’ve been worried.” Ingrith’s voice came from the darkness and startled Aurora. Lighting a candle, Aurora saw that the queen was sitting in an ornate chair in the corner of the room. Slowly, Ingrith got to her feet and began to move toward Aurora.

  “Your Majesty,” Aurora said when she had composed herself. “I tried to find her.” Just speaking of her failure made fresh tears well in Aurora’s eyes.

  For a moment, anger flashed on Queen Ingrith’s face. But it disappeared as quickly as it had come, and was replaced by a look of sympathy. “My heart breaks for you,” Ingrith said, moving closer. “She has brought a cloud of darkness over your happiness. I know she was against this marriage—never trusted your instincts.” Ingrith stopped, shaking her head sadly.

  Aurora struggled to fight back tears. The truth in Ingrith’s words stung. Maleficent had made it clear that she didn’t want Aurora to marry Phillip. But Aurora had hoped Maleficent’s love for her would overcome the fear.

  It had not.

  Ingrith went on, her voice growing more intense. “When I saw her at dinner, with her horns covered, bent cowering…” She paused and then shrugged ever so slightly. “Well, it’s no wonder she lashed out.”

  Aurora found herself nodding. She could see the anger in Maleficent’s eyes. She could hear her caustic tone as she talked of Phillip and his “romantic” gestures. She remembered the disgust on Maleficent’s face when Aurora giddily told her Phillip had said he loved her for the first time. Maybe love wasn’t something Maleficent could understand.

  But then other memories flooded over her: Maleficent waking her with a kiss. Fighting Stefan to protect her. Giving her the Moors so she would have a home full of joy instead of sadness. Aurora shook her head in protest.

  She could reminisce about the good moments, but Ingrith was right. Of course Maleficent had lashed out. The whole evening had gone against who she was. And one could fight their true nature for only so long before finally giving in.

  “I just don’t know what to do,” Aurora finally said, her voice shaking.

  At her words, the queen seemed to perk up. “You do truly love him, don’t you? My son?”

  Aurora nodded, biting her lip. “Deeply.”

  “Then it is love that will heal you. It’s what heals us all. Let’s move forward together,” Ingrith said. “As a family.”

  Aurora let out a surprised cry. She had not anticipated such a response. Nor was she prepared for it. Family. The simple word made her feel less alone and quelled the pain filling her chest. Aurora walked to the queen and threw her arms around her. Ingrith smiled and even began to stroke Aurora’s hair.

  Aurora was still hugging Ingrith when the door opened.

  Phillip’s voice echoed through the chamber. “Mother?” he asked, his eyes locked on Aurora. “What’s going on?”

  Ingrith pulled free from Aurora’s embrace as Phillip entered the room. She took Aurora’s hand and placed it in his. “I have made a decision,” she said. “In the name of your father, the wedding will take place in three days’ time.” Her statement delivered, she smiled at the couple and then left the room.

  In the wake of her departure, Aurora and Phillip stood in shocked silence. “Aurora,” Phillip finally said. “We don’t have to think about a wedding now.”

  Aurora shook her head. Ingrith was right. They owed it to everyone—especially the king. They could not let the darkness of Maleficent’s actions, or King John’s dire circumstances, ruin what was supposed to be a joyous time for their two kingdoms. If they backed away from hardship, it would set the tone for the rest of their reign. But if she and Phillip stayed strong, showing their love was powerful enough to overcome anything, it would make for a wonderful beginning.

  “What about Maleficent?” Phillip asked after Aurora explained her choice.

  “I believe she’s gone,” sh
e said. “Forever.”

  • • •

  As the sun rose over Castle Ulstead, news of the wedding spread swiftly. Villagers jumped into action, eager to help make the wedding perfect. Bakers began baking. Florists began gathering. Street sweepers began sweeping. The air was full of happy anticipation.

  But far away, deep in the heart of the Nest, Maleficent was unaware of how quickly things were changing. She was not looking to the future; instead, she was trying to make sense of the past. At her request, Conall had brought Maleficent to the Great Tree.

  Walking around the base of the enormous ancient tree, Maleficent felt small. It was the most sacred site in the Nest. Conall told her no one knew just how old the tree was, only that it had been there when they came. Elaborate inscrutable etchings were carved into the curved walls that surrounded the base of the tree. Over the years, the room had become a shrine, and the history of their kind was written on its walls.

  Conall paused in front of a huge rock. In the center, preserved in thick orange amber, was a set of bones. “A phoenix,” Conall said when he saw the question on Maleficent’s face. “It is said that the Dark Fey began with her—evolved over centuries. But soon our time will end….” His voice trailed off, and he turned to look at Maleficent. “Unless you can save us.”

  Maleficent was confused. A day earlier, he had seen her use the darkness in her to slam Borra against a wall. She had seen Conall’s disappointment at the time and known that he wanted her to be better than that. Yet now he was saying she could save them all?

  “In your hands you hold life and death,” Conall went on cryptically. “Destruction and rebirth. But nature’s greatest power is the power of true transformation. You transformed when you lost your wings. When you raised Aurora and when you found love in the middle of pain.” Conall moved closer so that he was almost touching Maleficent.

  She shifted on her feet. There was something about the strong, handsome fey that made her nervous.