Mistress of All Evil

by Serena Valentino

  After all, everyone knew crows were evil.

  The fairies called her Maleficent. They had named her after Saturn, because of its unfavorable influence, and after Mars, a malicious god known to cause destruction and war. For that was what the fairies saw in her future: malice, devastation, and conflict.

  So the crows cared for her. They brought her food from the tables of other fairies. Sometimes they even took clothes off drying lines so that she would have something to wear. The clothes smelled of sunshine and flowers. They were warm from the sun and soft on her small frame.

  And so it went until Nanny, the One of Legends came home to the Fairylands. She had come to take her place once again as headmistress of the Fairy Academy.

  It was twilight when the One of Legends arrived in the Fairylands. Her light blue eyes sparkled and her silver hair fell to her shoulders in loose curls. The sunset was a deep purple, with brilliant wisps of pink and orange streaking the sky. Already the stars were visible, and they seemed to twinkle more brightly when the One of Legends was near.

  The One of Legends smiled, happy to be home again. But her smile faltered as she spied the young fairy crouched in the hollow tree. Maleficent was four by that time and still all sharp edges. She was nothing like the round little fairies that flitted around the Fairylands like fluffy bumblebees pollinating the flowers with glittering magic. To the other fairies, Maleficent looked ill. She was too skinny, too green, and far too pinched-faced. And her horns—those horrible horns—made her look more evil than anything else. But the One of Legends saw something others didn’t see. She saw a lost little girl who needed love.

  “What are you doing in this tree, child? Where are your parents?” the One of Legends asked.

  The little girl didn’t answer. She wasn’t used to speaking to anyone other than her crows. In fact, she was almost certain that this was the first time someone had ever spoken directly to her. Though the woman’s face was kind, Maleficent wasn’t used to anyone making eye contact with her. She certainly didn’t expect to see a pleasant expression when someone looked upon her. Usually, the fairies wrinkled their noses at her—when they bothered to look at her at all.

  “Speak, child! Who are you?” Nanny inquired.

  Maleficent tried to speak, but she couldn’t. The only sound that came from her lips was a terrible screech that reminded Nanny of a hoarse crow.

  My goodness, this poor girl has never used her voice. Not once. Not even to cry. The realization broke Nanny’s heart.

  Maleficent wasn’t sure if she even had a voice. Her crows spoke to her in their own way, and they understood her without her having to talk.

  The One of Legends understood the problem. With a wave of her hand, she gave the small green fairy the courage to find her voice.

  “Now speak, dear,” she said encouragingly.

  “Hell…o.”

  Maleficent’s voice sounded like the croak of a frog, scratchy and strained. But she had spoken for the first time! It was frightening and exciting at once.

  “Well, that’s a start, isn’t it, my dear? And what’s your name?”

  “They…they call me…Maleficent.”

  “Who, dear, the crows? Who calls you Maleficent?”

  Maleficent shook her head slowly. “The fairies.”

  “Do they, now?” Nanny knew exactly why her sister and the other fairies had named the child Maleficent. It sent a hot surge of anger coursing through her body. Nanny tried not to let it register on her face as she smiled down at the little girl.

  “And why, may I ask, are you here all alone?” Nanny continued. “Where are your parents? I will have quite a thing or two to say to them for leaving such a little fairy alone in the cold with no one but crows for company!”

  “This is where I live. The crows are my parents.”

  When the One of Legends looked up at the crows, she saw concern in their eyes and she knew that the girl was telling the truth. How in the Fairylands could my sister have stood by and let this happen? Abandoning the girl like this? Leaving her to be cared for by the crows? It’s a disgrace.

  “Will you let me take you home with me, little one?” Nanny asked. “I can care for you.”

  Slowly, Maleficent shook her head. “No.”

  “No? Why not, may I ask?” Nanny tried not to laugh. Maleficent looked so stern, and so decisive, especially for one so young.

  “I don’t want to leave my crows!”

  “Then we shall bring them with us! How does that sound?”

  And looking up at her crows for a moment, Maleficent slowly nodded.

  Maleficent’s life utterly changed that evening. Nanny could see that no one had ever treated Maleficent like she was anything other than something to be feared. She was glad to be able to give Maleficent the love she deserved. Maleficent felt safe with her and called her Nanny. And that was what she was—her nanny—though Nanny cared for Maleficent like she was her own child. Together they lived in a beautiful Tudor-style cottage with gingerbread trimmings and large-paned windows. Nanny magically replanted Maleficent’s crow tree in the front garden, and she fashioned a wonderful tree house just for Maleficent so that she could visit her crows whenever she wished. Nanny insisted on always keeping a window open so that the crows could come into the cottage whenever they liked. They often flitted in and out, checking on their little fairy to be sure Nanny was treating her well, which she always was. She loved Maleficent dearly and was unspeakably happy to give the special girl a home and family to call her own.

  Queen Snow White woke in terror. It was the same old nightmare: she was running through a tangled forest with grasping trees scratching her as she fought to escape their clutches. She almost expected to be covered in cuts but found herself unharmed.

  “Momma?” Snow looked for her mother’s reflection in the mirror on her bedside table. “Are you there?”

  But the old queen didn’t answer.

  Snow looked around her room at the other reflective surfaces. She found nothing other than her own pale face. It was a strange feeling, waking up without her mother smiling back at her from one of the mirrors. Snow glanced around her room at her things, trying to shake off the terrible feeling of her dream. Everything was in its place. There was nothing strange or amiss as there normally would be when she thought she’d awoken from a nightmare but was actually still dreaming. This was her room, with its deep red tapestries, adorned with golden trees and tiny blackbirds, hanging on the walls. This was her bed, with its light petal-pink curtains draped around the four cherry-oak pillars. She looked around her room again at the many mirrors held in beautiful antique gold frames of various sizes. Yes, everything was as it should be. She was safe. That was what her mother always said to her when she woke up startled, wasn’t it? Look! You’re in your own room. You’re safe, my bird. But the shadows of this nightmare remained. She could still feel the looming danger of something pursuing her as she searched the dark corners of her room, hoping she wasn’t still dreaming.

  I need to speak with my mother.

  Snow had to tell her about the other part of her dream. It was a new nightmare—one that reminded her of a story her mother had told her when she was very small.

  The story of the Dragon Witch who put a young girl to sleep.

  Why do witches always put young girls to sleep in these stories?

  Snow White’s own story was very similar. Her mother had put her to sleep. But that was many years past, so long ago that Snow rarely thought of it. The Dragon Witch had been plaguing Snow’s dreams for many nights. That much she knew. But the actual events of the bad dream always escaped her upon her waking. All she remembered was the forest from her childhood. She’d been trying to capture her memory of the Dragon Witch dream so she could share it her mother, but it was like a forgotten word or name she couldn’t grasp. Snow knew this dream was important. She knew this nightmare held meaning. And now that she finally remembered it, her mother wasn’t there.

  Where is she?
r />   Snow White dressed quickly in one of her favorite gowns. It was a red velvet dress decorated with embroidered silver birds and shiny black beads that sparkled in the light. She sat at her vanity, looking at her mirror as she brushed her thick black hair, brilliantly streaked with silver at each of her temples. She watched the curls bounce back with each stroke before tying the red ribbon to keep her hair from falling into her round pale face and large eyes. Snow never thought much about how she looked—and that day wasn’t any different—but she thought it was sweet the king always said she hadn’t changed over the years. Though she had to admit she did have a few more lines around her eyes and mouth when she smiled, which was most of the time. Snow was so accustomed to seeing her mother’s face in her mirror that it was strange to see her own. She hadn’t realized how much she took her mother’s company for granted. How lonely she would feel without her. Especially now that her children were grown and living in their own kingdoms and her beloved was away on a diplomatic mission.

  You look beautiful, my bird. You always do.

  Snow White looked up with a gleaming smile at the refection of her mother in the mirror. “Momma! Where were you? I have to tell you about my dream!”

  “I know your dreams, my darling. I’ve been trying to find the Dark Fairy. I have to warn her,” the old queen Grimhilde replied.

  “Is she the Dragon Witch?” Snow White asked.

  Grimhilde laughed. “Yes, my bird, the very one.”

  “Is your old story coming true, then?” Snow asked, confused. “I don’t understand!”

  “I’m not sure I do, either, darling. The story I told you so many years ago was in a book your cousins gave to me. I think they may have written it. And I’d very much like to see it now. Do you have it somewhere among your things, by chance?”

  Snow White knew exactly where it was. It was in a place she didn’t like going. “It’s not in my chambers. It’s in one of the trunks in the attic, packed away with the rest of your possessions.”

  “Are you brave enough to go up there alone, my bird? It’s very important that you do.”

  One morning, Maleficent was messily munching on a blueberry scone while tossing crumbs to her favorite crow, Opal. It had been more than a year since Nanny had found the tiny Maleficent and taken her into her home. She had given the girl time to become comfortable in her new surroundings before bringing up school, and now Nanny decided it was time to broach the subject. “It’s time to think about your education, my darling. You must learn your fairy magic.”

  “But I’m not a fairy!” Maleficent protested.

  “Of course you are, my dear. What in the Fairylands gave you the idea you aren’t a fairy?” Nanny asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Right! You don’t know! And that’s exactly my point. There are many things you don’t know, and the only way you will learn them is by going to school!”

  “But…”

  “But nothing,” Nanny said firmly. “Don’t worry about those flighty featherhead fairies. If they say or do one thing that makes you sad, you tell me. That goes for your instructors, as well. And I will be there, my dear. Every hour of every single day, I’ll be at your disposal without fail.”

  “Will you?” Maleficent asked.

  “Yes, my dearest. I am the headmistress, after all.”

  So Maleficent’s education began. It started out slowly and wasn’t quite what Maleficent expected. She learned the properties of magical plants and how to brew potions, and she easily mastered enchanting inanimate objects to do mundane tasks. But Maleficent could tell that her teachers didn’t like her, even though she was brighter and more advanced than any of the other students. They didn’t show her the affection or care they showed the other students. That didn’t bother Maleficent, except that she often found herself without much to do.

  During flying lessons, while other fairies learned how to use their wings properly, she sat by herself and read books she had found tucked away on Nanny’s bookshelves. Nanny had thought the books were hidden where Maleficent couldn’t find them. They contained the sort of magic Maleficent had expected to learn in fairy classes. So, guided by her books, Maleficent began to practice her own magic.

  Maleficent quickly realized that she could teach herself almost anything she wanted to do by reading a book. There wasn’t a subject that didn’t fascinate her. She coveted her time alone after school in her tree house, where she could read, and she’d often share her findings with her crows. Maleficent had decorated her tree house with the various things her crows and ravens brought to her. She found it interesting that some crows were drawn to particular items. Opal had a fondness for brightly colored pieces of sea glass, shiny buttons, and beautiful beads like those found on a fancy ball gown. While some of Maleficent’s birds brought her herbs for her spells, others brought colorful feathers, random teacups, brass bells, and anything else that struck their fancy. She loved spending time with her crows and taught them everything she learned on the subjects of bird lore and magic. She started to teach them how to open their minds so she could see through their eyes when they traveled, and how to communicate with other creatures to learn about their lands. Maleficent hadn’t known that so many other lands existed until her crows told her stories of the different realms that stretched in every direction into what seemed like a never-ending eternity. She felt lucky to have her pets, especially in light of how little in common she had with her schoolmates. The other fairies were incessantly buzzing around each other, complimenting one another for the silliest of things.

  “Merryweather, your wings look lovely today!” was something Maleficent heard far too often in the classroom while she was trying to brew nightshade in her cauldron. The other fairies in Maleficent’s class seemed to defer to Merryweather. In Maleficent’s opinion, Merryweather was a rather unremarkable fairy and was far too bossy. Nevertheless, she seemed to be the favorite of all the instructors, which made her all the more impossible to deal with. Despite her penchant for bullying and her inflated sense of self, Merryweather was a good student. She spent her breaks in the courtyard studying and tutoring the other students. Maleficent thought she and the fairy could be friends—if Merryweather didn’t dislike her so much. There wasn’t a day that went by when Maleficent wasn’t teased or looked down on by her classmates. If she was trying to study or work at a spell, her classmates would mock her for having to walk from her cauldron to the pantry and back instead of flying. They’d whisper nasty things as they fluttered by, like “Wingless freak!” or “Ogre horns!”

  One afternoon in class, Fauna, one of Merryweather’s best friends, raised her hand to ask a question. Fauna was a sweet-faced fairy dressed in green. She seemed too nervous to ask Miss Petal the question when she called on her, but Merryweather nudged her on. “Miss Petal, wouldn’t it be more…uh…pleasant if Maleficent wore something to cover her disgusting ogre horns in class?” Fauna said in a small voice.

  Maleficent looked up from her bubbling cauldron to see what the teacher would say. The teacher grew scarlet under Maleficent’s steely gaze. “I daresay it would be more pleasant, and less…uh…distracting. Perhaps I will say something to her guardian.”

  All the students were giggling at Miss Petal’s reply when the class was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of the headmistress, who shot the teacher and students a scathing look. “I daresay Maleficent would find it more pleasing if you all had your wings snipped! She wouldn’t have you buzzing around her head while she’s trying to work her spell, that’s for certain! But you don’t see her vocalizing her every daydream, do you?”

  Maleficent grew white with embarrassment, a striking difference from her usual green complexion. “I never…I didn’t…” she stammered.

  “And who could blame you if you did?” Nanny looked at the students as she continued. “You’re a shameful bunch, the lot of you. Disgusting horns indeed! Did you ever stop to think there are creatures in this world who might find wings disgusting?
Have you not yet realized that the sun doesn’t rise and set by fairy standards? There are other creatures in this world, dear ones! Beautiful, lovely, and powerful creatures that don’t look like me or you! You’d do well to remember that, Fauna! All of you would!”

  The fairies didn’t pay much attention to the One of Legends when she went on about such things. She didn’t make sense. Everyone knew fairy wings were beautiful! How could anyone in all the lands ever consider them otherwise? The One of Legends was much too serious. She wasn’t at all like her sister. The Fairy Godmother was proud of her wings, sang beautiful songs, and taught the best class of all: wish granting! None of the fairies could wait until they were old enough for wish-granting class.

  As far as Merryweather was concerned, that was the highest honor for fairy students. The fairies knew in their hearts that Maleficent would never make it that far. Not that she had much of a chance with Merryweather, Fauna, and Flora being up for wish-granting status in the same year as her. The Fairy Godmother herself had said she felt there was a very good chance Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather would be awarded status. And since wish-granting status was bestowed on only three students in any graduating class, it seemed silly for Maleficent—or any other student, for that matter—to pursue it as her fairy calling. Besides, there were many other important things a fairy could do upon graduating from the academy.

  Giving Merryweather and her friends a nasty look, Nanny walked out the door. Once she left, the class erupted in a storm of protest. “What does she see in Maleficent?” Merryweather yelled.

  “She can’t even fly!” one fairy screamed.

  “You’re not even a fairy. You don’t belong here. Go back to Hades!” said another.

  Maleficent sat rigid and afraid. She didn’t understand why all the fairies hated her so much. Was it really her horns? Or was something terribly wrong with her? Was she evil?