Colin looked up and his eyes opened wide. Beside him, Thomas let out a shout. There was a thud as both men dropped their bags, releasing the faeries, who scurried away, murmuring to each other as they ran.
Perched like something out of the men’s worst nightmares was Maleficent. Her huge black wings were tucked tight to her back, her green eyes piercing. Her pale skin glowed a brilliant white in stark contrast to the large black horns that rose from her head. As she looked at them, her red lips parted in a smile that sent both men running.
They didn’t get far.
Lifting one long, thin finger into the air, Maleficent signaled to the trees. Instantly, they began to bend inward, blocking the men’s escape. Branches reached out like arms, grabbing the men and snaking themselves around their limbs as they passed the men from tree to tree until they were once more in front of Maleficent.
This time, the men knew they were trapped.
Slowly, Maleficent approached them. She stopped a short distance away, and her shadow loomed over them both. She said nothing as they squirmed and struggled against their vine-like restraints. “Please,” Colin begged.
In response, Maleficent unfurled her wings. They spread, blocking out what little light remained. When stretched, they spanned nearly twelve feet. As terrified as he was, Colin couldn’t help being amazed by the wings’ obvious strength and undeniable beauty.
She stepped forward, and both men screamed once more.
Ben had just reached the edge of the clearing when the screams started. He leapt as the sound bounced off the trees around him.
Ben didn’t hesitate. He didn’t know who was screaming — whether it was a faerie or Thomas or Colin. But he didn’t care. Every muscle in his body was on alert, and his brain was racing. He had two options — fight or flight. And his body was telling him to run. In an instant, he was off, weaving between the trees as fast as his legs would carry him. His breath came in gasps as he tried to see a path or any familiar landmark that might tell him he was running in the right direction. Seeing none, he plunged forward anyway. A moment later, the trees opened up and he found himself in the middle of a huge field of flowers. They glowed faintly in the night, their red petals open despite the hour. Ben tripped and tumbled into the flowers. He heard snapping as a few of the stems broke. But he didn’t care. Not now.
Because ahead, through another grove of trees, he saw the river.
Scrambling to his feet, he ran on, pushing through more flowers and then brushing through the thin trees until he burst onto the riverbank. He jumped into and swam across the river, then clambered onto the shore of Ulstead. He could hear — or so he thought — the faint screams of Colin and Thomas from somewhere across the river. His heart pounding, he made his way up the shore, putting as much distance between himself and the Moors as he could.
Thomas had been vague when he had brought Ben and Colin into his scheme. All Ben knew was that in exchange for the faeries, they would receive payment. How much and from whom, Thomas did not reveal. Though he had, fortunately, told them where the man lived. Ben followed the streets into the heart of Ulstead and finally stopped in front of a heavy iron door. He lifted his hand and beat on it mercilessly.
A moment later, a slot opened. It was in the middle of the door, about even with Ben’s belly button. From behind the slot, two large yellow eyes peered up at him. “I only got one,” Ben said, nodding at his bag. When the person behind the door said nothing, Ben shifted nervously on his feet. “But he’s a fine specimen.”
There was a grumble, which Ben took to mean that he should hand over the bag. He did so, slipping it through the slot. A moment later a wrinkled hand reached out. In the palm were a few scratched coins.
“That’s all?” Ben said, surprising himself. “The little ’shroom bit me! Twice!”
Suddenly, the wrinkled hand closed around Ben’s belt and tugged — hard. Ben was yanked forward, his face pressed painfully into the door. He winced and pulled his head as far back as he could. He watched as the hand released him and then closed around a flash of red attached to his bag. It was one of the glowing flowers from the Moors. It must have stuck to his bag when he fell. The wrinkled hand snatched the bloom and held it up with reverence. The hand then quickly pulled it inside and, with a snap, slammed the slot shut.
Ben stood there for a long moment, unsure what to do next. Looking at the coins in his hand, he let out a sigh. He had been right. Going to the Moors had not been worth the price. And as he walked to the end of the street and peered back at the woods across the river, he was sure Thomas and Colin would have agreed.
Chapter Two
AURORA STOOD LOOKING AT THE ROOMFUL OF UNHAPPY FAERIES WHO HAD COME TO CONFRONT HER. BIG, LITTLE, THIN, PLUMP, THEY WERE ALL AFLUTTER. The air was filled with the sounds of wings and mouths flapping. Aurora listened and watched, her head high, her face calm. Outwardly, she appeared every inch a regal and measured leader. Though in truth, she was actively trying to keep her breaths even and not bite the inside of her lip.
The situation was making her agitated.
For most of the past five years, her rule had been peaceful and relatively painless. There had, of course, been the odd squabble between faeries to sort out. And the occasional dispute between a cranky pixie and a more easygoing mushroom faerie over who had claim to a certain tree. But all in all, it had been rather, well, lovely to be queen of the Moors.
Lately, though, a feeling of unease had begun to filter through her kingdom. Still quiet, beautiful, and relatively peaceful, the Moors weren’t in danger, per se. But the feeling was bothering Aurora — and Maleficent. Goddaughter’s and godmother’s attachment to the land went deep. When the Moors hurt, the two of them hurt, too. Now, as Aurora looked out at the castle full of upset faeries, she realized it was beginning to bother the Moor folk as well.
Lifting her head, she focused on the gathered faeries. She knew they were waiting for her to continue. The weekly update had become a tradition of sorts. Aurora felt that an informed kingdom was a happy kingdom. Although some days, like today, were more frustrating than others. “Next item of business,” she said, “the missing faeries. I’ve sent another clan of tree-sprites to search the backwoods. They’ll report back to me at nightfall.” Beside her she heard Lief mutter. She turned her gaze at the large tree faerie, who served as one of her top advisors. He was staring at her accusingly, his branches gesturing angrily, and he lifted a large root before stomping it down. “Please don’t raise your roots to me, Lief,” Aurora said, trying to keep her voice even. “We’ve checked the Tomb Bloom field. We’ll keep searching until they are found.” Several more reports had already come in, the most recent from a family of mushroom faeries who said their teenage son, Button, had gone missing two nights earlier. They weren’t, they’d told Aurora, too concerned, as Button was a bit rebellious. But still, they thought it best she knew. What concerned Aurora was that Button wasn’t the first mushroom faerie to have gone missing. And the ones who had disappeared before him had not yet returned. But she kept those thoughts to herself as she doled out words of comfort.
Lief was not satisfied by Aurora’s response. Again he waved his branch-like hands in the air. This time, the movement caused a few leaves to flutter free and fall to the ground in front of Aurora.
“Yes, I’m aware the farmers from Ulstead have been using our river water,” she answered.
Lief bellowed.
Aurora raised an eyebrow at the faerie’s reaction. She relied on Lief to be calm and steady, and this was completely out of character for him. She pressed on, ignoring her advisor’s growing agitation. “I’ve decided it’s time for our kingdoms to start working together.” She paused. “For peace.”