“The little beast is about to fall off that ledge,” Maleficent said nonchalantly to Diaval.
With a worried “awk,” Diaval flew off the branch and to the pixies for help. He began to caw wildly, flying around their blanket. Unfortunately, Knotgrass, Thistlewit, and Flittle were far too absorbed in their fight even to give notice to Diaval, shooing him away absentmindedly as they continued to bicker.
Meanwhile, Maleficent watched as Aurora continued to run headlong toward the ledge. She was only fifty feet away. Then forty. Then thirty. Maleficent glanced over her shoulder and saw that the pixies still had no clue what was going on and Diaval was still cawing madly. The coast was clear. Quickly, she made her way out of the tree and raced over to the baby. Just as Aurora’s little foot took a step into nothing, Maleficent grabbed the baby and pulled her back. Seeing Maleficent’s familiar face, Aurora smiled.
Maleficent quickly plopped Aurora down safely and then retreated to the tree. A moment later Diaval landed next to her. Giving up on the pixies, he had flown over to try to help Aurora but found her safe and sound. Now he glanced at Maleficent and cocked his head, a quizzical look in his eyes.
“What?” she asked innocently. So she had saved Aurora’s life. What was the big deal? It certainly didn’t mean she liked the brat or anything.
TIME PASSED QUICKLY IN THE FOREST, AND BEFORE LONG, AURORA WAS NO LONGER A TODDLER BUT A CHILD OF EIGHT. The dangerous baby years were over, and while the pixies had been practically useless to an infant, they seemed capable enough of taking care of a young girl. So Maleficent mostly stayed in the Moors, safe from humans and content in the knowledge that Stefan, as all of Diaval’s reports indicated, was a sad, mad, lonely king. But on occasion, she would make a visit to see Aurora.
Once, when Aurora was still a toddler, Maleficent had followed Diaval to the clearing and waited in the shadows of the trees as, in raven form, Diaval played with the girl. Fall had turned the leaves gold and red and sent many of them drifting to the ground. Aurora, her blond hair long and loose, sat in the midst of a big pile of leaves, giggling. She lifted a handful and threw them into the air, laughing as a few landed on the black bird. Reaching out, she gently stroked Diaval’s thick black feathers. “What a pretty bird,” she said, her voice pleasant to the ear.
Maleficent squirmed. At one time, the baby had been the only thing to irk her. Yet more and more, she found that Diaval’s spending time with Aurora irked her far more. Or was she irked because he could play with her out in the open, with such ease? That afternoon Maleficent had shaken her head to clear the ridiculous thought and walked away from the clearing.
Yet she was never gone for very long. Even though she hated to admit it, she felt an odd pull to Aurora. And there was another draw, as well. It was too much temptation to play tricks on the three pixies, a break from her serious thoughts and a brief reminder of happier days spent playing tricks on the other faeries with Robin. Often the thought of disrupting the little pixies’ lives for even a few moments was enough to send Maleficent through the Wall and into the human forest.
One summer morning she and Diaval, in his human form, made their way to the clearing. Hearing Knotgrass’s nasally voice, Maleficent inched up to the edge of the cottage. Diaval followed and together they peered through an open window. On the other side, the three pixies were sitting at the kitchen table playing a game of checkers. As usual, they were bickering.
“What’s this?” Flittle said, reaching out and grabbing Knotgrass’s hand. Prying it open, she revealed one of the markers. “You’re cheating!”
“I resent the insinuation,” Knotgrass huffed.
“There’s no insinuation. I’ve caught you in the act,” Flittle retorted. “You cheating hedgepig.”
As the three began to hurl insults at one another, Maleficent raised a finger. A single drop of water fell onto Knotgrass’s head. She brushed it away absently.