“I have to find her,” Aurora said. I have to because this is all my fault, she added silently.
“You?” Diaval said. “What about me? I could be stuck as a human forever! Look at me — I’m hideous!”
His attempt at lightening the mood worked for a moment. Aurora smiled briefly. But then she shook her head. “She needs to break the curse! It’s the only way.”
Diaval frowned. “Have you considered the possibility—”
“What?” Aurora interrupted, confused.
“That it wasn’t her curse,” Diaval said softly.
Aurora shook her head. She had been there. She had seen her godmother’s green magic and watched the fury in her eyes. She knew how much Maleficent hated humans and how angry she had been. “Who else could do such a thing?” she finally asked. No, she thought when Diaval didn’t reply. He was wrong. Maleficent had cursed the king.
But that meant she could fix it. She could fix it all, if only Aurora knew where she had gone.
Maleficent was lying on something soft. She could feel it pressing against her skin, keeping her warm and comfortable. She dared not open her eyes. Not yet. She feared that if she did, she might discover the warmth was a dream.
She had only vague memories of the moments after she had been shot. She remembered falling for what felt like forever and the sensation of the water as she crashed into it. She remembered seeing the engineer on the tower and then her eyes closing as the weight of the water and her wound became too much and she was pulled along with the current until she went over a massive waterfall. Once again she had fallen, only to land in the colder water of the ocean beyond Ulstead. Caught in the current, she had begun to drift.
And then someone, or something, had pulled her from the water. She remembered being lifted into the sky and the sound of wings beating close to her ears. She could have sworn there was a shimmering blue light and then wind on her cheeks. Her eyes had flickered open a while later, and she had only the briefest glimmers of huge towering rocks and crashing waves before whoever was carrying her headed down and into what looked like a cave. Then her eyes had closed again as she gave in to the overwhelming pain.
Now she lay still, trying to make sense of what had happened. Finally, she opened her eyes. The comfortable bed she was lying on was made of moss. A high curved ceiling, made of tightly woven grasses, rose above her, giving the room a natural warmth. Hearing a whoosh behind her, Maleficent tried to sit up.
But when she did, pain shot through her. Lying back down, she gingerly placed a hand on her wound. The site was cleaned and dressed, covered in a bandage made of bark. Someone had clearly taken care of her.
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.”