With renewed determination, Aurora paced back and forth. The Dark Fey were powerful. But they couldn’t defeat Ingrith on their own. She had to help them stop Ingrith and save her people. But how?
Then her eyes landed on the long train of Ingrith’s wedding dress — the one Aurora was supposed to wear that day. It was still on the dress form, and an idea began to take shape. Aurora moved toward the dress, lifting the train in her hands and tugging at it. The fabric was strong. It could work….
She raced to the bed, pulled off the linens, and began to tie them together. When she ran out of sheets, she tied the ends to the wedding dress train. Tying that to the bedpost, she paused, eyeing the now extensive length of homemade rope. I’m sure this is not what Ingrith had in mind when she gave me her dress, Aurora thought, allowing herself a small smile.
Satisfied that everything was in order, Aurora dragged the rope to the window. Using the sheets to protect her hand, she beat her fist against the glass over and over until the window broke with a loud smash. As glass shattered and fell to the floor, Aurora threw the rope out the window and let it dangle. Then she ran back toward the door to her room.
A moment later, just as she had anticipated, the guards rushed in. Spotting the rope, they raced to the window and looked out. They assumed that Aurora had climbed out and escaped. But they were wrong. Distracted by the broken window and wedding dress rope, they didn’t notice Aurora slipping through the open door. They were confused about Aurora’s whereabouts until they heard the door slam and the lock click into place.
Now they were trapped and Aurora was free.
But not for long. Racing down the long hallway, she spotted four more guards moving toward her. Her head spun as she looked for an escape. It seemed her only option was another window. Through an open pane, she could see her makeshift rope hanging. Taking a deep breath, she ran — and jumped. Her legs and arms pumped in the air as she reached for the rope. Her fingers connected with the fabric, and she clutched it as she dangled for a moment, her body swaying back and forth. Above, she heard a loud screech as the bed, which the rope was still tied to, began to move, pulled forward by her weight.
The screeching got louder. Aurora gulped. It was only a matter of time before the bed would slide across the room. And when it crashed against the wall, she was going to plummet to her death. Frantically, Aurora began to pump her legs, swinging her body like a pendulum.
She dropped farther as the bed slid a few more feet across the room. Now she was dangling in front of another window. If she didn’t figure out a way off the rope soon, she would die. She heard the organ playing in the chapel far below. And then came the sounds of faeries screaming. It felt like a nightmare. Aurora grew more frantic. She had to get to her people. Pumping her legs harder, she swung faster and faster until, with a crash, she smashed through the closest window.
Her feet landed on the carpeted floor of the king’s royal chambers. As she tried to catch her balance, her arms thrashed wildly. She was just about to fall back out the window when a hand reached out and steadied her. Looking up, she found herself staring into Phillip’s warm eyes.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Aurora didn’t get a chance to answer. A loud boom rocked the room. Looking out the broken window, she saw the Dark Fey approaching the castle. They swooped and dove through the air as Percival and a dozen other soldiers fired at them from the queen’s tower.
For a moment, Aurora was speechless. She had never before seen anything so beautiful in her life. The Dark Fey looked like huge birds of myth with their wings outstretched. Some were brilliantly colored, while others were duller, more the colors of sand and stone. Some had large horns, while others’ were smaller, tighter to their heads. But all of them had one thing in common. “They look just like her,” Aurora said, finally finding her voice. Scanning the sky, she strained to see if her godmother was among them. But Aurora did not see Maleficent. Her chest heaved.
Phillip had been silent, too, as he watched the Dark Fey come closer. He pointed at the winged creatures. “Maleficent is starting a war!” he cried. “First my father, and now this.”
Aurora heard the anguish in Phillip’s voice and felt for him, but he was wrong. She didn’t say anything but simply looked on as Percival’s soldiers fired more crossbows. The ammunition, which she couldn’t quite make out, appeared to be a red shell of sorts. It flew and slammed into one of the fey. In horror, she watched as the Dark Fey exploded, transforming from a solid shape into water. Then another fey was hit, and turned to dust.
Ingrith’s weapon. This had to be it. Aurora’s face paled as she once again remembered the Tomb Bloom Phillip had held in his hand. He’d said Ingrith had given it to him. She must have weaponized the flowers and was now using the red powder against the faeries and the Dark Fey. As the Dark Fey began to break formation, some diving toward the center of the town, while others tried to get closer to the queen’s tower, Aurora turned from the window. She saw that Phillip was moving to leave, eager to stop the war he did not understand.
“It’s not Maleficent,” Aurora said, finally giving voice to her thoughts. “Phillip, she never cursed him. It was your mother. I’m sorry.”
Phillip opened his mouth to protest but stopped as he heard more screams from outside. His shoulders sagged. “What are you saying?” he asked softly, as if he knew the answer but needed to hear it anyway.
“It was the spindle,” Aurora said, her heart aching as she watched Phillip’s face fall. “The curse is still in it.” With the sounds of war still waging outside, Aurora moved into the center of the chamber, to where King John lay on his bed. Gently, she lifted his arm and pulled back his sleeve. “Your mother used it against your father. Look,” she said, nodding to the small, barely noticeable red mark on the king’s upper arm.
Phillip’s eyes grew wide in pained understanding. “They’re the same,” he said.
Aurora could do nothing but nod. She saw Phillip’s thoughts play out on his face as he moved from disbelief to anger to grief and back to anger. She didn’t want him to hurt, but she needed him by her side. Now more than ever. Pulling him back to the window, Aurora pointed to the chapel far below. “She’s locked the Moor folk inside!” Her voice became more frantic as she thought about what was happening — probably at that very moment — to her people. “This isn’t a wedding.” She stared into Phillip’s eyes, willing him to believe. “It’s a trap.”
Slowly, Phillip reached out his hand and squeezed Aurora’s. Her breath hitched. “We have to stop her,” he said.
Aurora exhaled. Then she gave Phillip a determined nod. “Go!” she said. She didn’t have to tell him where. He knew. He had to find his mother. “I’m going to the chapel.”
Together, they rushed for the door. All Aurora could do now was hope they weren’t too late.
Chapter Sixteen
THERE WASN’T MUCH TIME LEFT. MALEFICENT KNEW THAT AS SHE LOOKED DOWN AT CONALL. HIS BODY WAS FADING, HIS BREATHING MORE RAGGED. For a few brief moments, he seemed to rally, and Maleficent allowed herself the smallest sliver of hope that perhaps he would surprise them all and fight through the wounds.
But then he weakened again. The others, sensing the end was close, said their good-byes and left Maleficent and Conall alone. The room was silent now and oddly cozy — despite the fact that Conall lay dying in front of the Great Tree.