Maleficent signaled the four crewmen, who dashed off in pursuit.
With any luck, Finn thought, the two girls were sprinting toward the road by now. For a moment it looked as if Maleficent would pursue them as well, but her nasty crow continued signaling—for all Finn knew the thing was talking to her. She moved toward Dillard, toward where Philby and Maybeck were hiding.
It had to be now.
Finn darted toward the stone table like he was going for the prize in Capture the Flag. Tia Dalma, distracted by sight of the girls and by Maleficent’s swift crossing to Diablo, never saw Finn coming. He careened into her, throwing her to the ground. He reached for the journal.
His legs were trembling. But it wasn’t his legs; it was the ground, as Chernabog dragged himself toward the table. The beast was clearly at half speed; Finn didn’t want to see him supercharged.
Up close he was a hideous combination of wild bull, rabid bat, and human giant. Drool leaked disgustingly from his partially-open mouth, which was lined with hundreds of triangular teeth. His coal-black eyes, so bloodshot as to look otherworldly, locked onto Finn. He grunted, his nostrils snorting fluid.
“Hey, buddy,” Finn said, backing up, the journal tucked under his arm.
Chernabog swiped out at Finn, his reach extraordinarily long, his black, bear claws coming incredibly close. Much closer than Finn thought possible.
A fireball ripped through the air by Finn’s left ear, sounding like a jet engine at takeoff. The surprise of it pushed Chernabog back and off Finn.
Maleficent took a step toward Dillard. The Evil Queen stepped out of the jungle, dragging Maybeck with one hand and Philby with the other. The boys were conscious but dazed.
“Stop!” she called to Finn. “The book, young man. Put it back on the table, or your friends die.”
Tia Dalma clawed herself to her knees. Her eyes played across Finn like a meat inspector’s. She was going to end him.
Willa and Charlene had broken from the plan, doubling back. Out of the corner of his eye, Finn saw them dip into the mouth of the cave entrance that bore the pictograph.
Cackling evilly, the Evil Queen pulled a vial from her cloak and force-fed Maybeck and Philby its contents. The boys slumped to the jungle floor.
Dead? Asleep?
“The book!” she cried out.
Both furious and terrified, Finn returned the journal to the stone table. But something in him snapped as it clunked to the stone. He raced toward his fallen friends. Maleficent badly misjudged his superhuman speed. Her first two fireballs missed.
Seeing more power in Finn’s emotions than anything with which fire could contend, she wave a crooked finger at Dillard and drew the boy to her.
Finn was three steps from Maleficent when the two girls screamed.
A cloud of fruit bats flew from the mouth of the cave. They were the size of flying squirrels. They swirled around the courtyard like smoke escaping a chimney. A black fog, so thick that wings licked the faces of everyone gathered there, forcing them to recoil.
All but Chernabog, who spread his arms in welcome. The bats formed a funnel over his head and spiraled up into the dark sky.
Chernabog roared so loudly Finn would have sworn the trees shook. And this thing’s at half speed?
Maleficent crossed her arms in front of her face to shield herself. Taking advantage of her distraction, Finn attacked Maleficent, grabbing her from behind and spinning her in the direction of Tia Dalma just as the witch doctor threw her arm forward, intending a curse for Finn.
Maleficent buckled over. Finn kicked her to the dirt and kneeled by Maybeck’s side.
A fireball grew from Maleficent’s palm. Finn abandoned Maybeck and struck the fairy’s arm, sending the fireball in the direction of the Evil Queen, whose cape caught fire. The burning Evil Queen dove to the dirt and rolled.
Chernabog roared yet again.
The moon slipped fully in front of the sun, blotting out all light.
The fallen Maleficent, writhing from the pain inflicted by the curse, looked to the sky.
Tia Dalma had Dillard by the throat. She produced a large knife—bone or ivory—from her waistband and leveled its blade across Dillard’s throat. She pulled on the blade, cutting Dillard’s neck, spilling his blood.
“Stop!” Finn shouted. He couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t allow it. It was worse than anything he’d ever imagined.
To his surprise, the witch doctor paused.
“Me, for him,” Finn said. “You would much rather have me.”
“Blood is blood, lad,” Tia Dalma said in her lilting voice. She could have been talking about vegetables in the grocery store. “He,” she indicated Chernabog, “is not picky.”
Finn saw an exchange of some sort between the Evil Queen, who guarded Maybeck and Philby, and Tia Dalma. Tia Dalma’s hand tightened on the knife handle. Chernabog bellowed and snorted, waiting by the stone table.