Her eyes worried, Hermia turned to Lysander as the pixies flew away.
“There may still be time.” Lysander answered her unspoken question. “If we can just reason with them…”
“Yes,” Hermia agreed hurriedly. “We need to get to the border.” She held the sleeping infant closer to her as they flew down to the lush area directly underneath the Rowan Tree. Searching the mossy inlet, they started calling their friends’ names:
“Adella? Finch? Sweetpea?”
“Robin!” Hermia cried as she saw the small, sprightly faerie buzzing toward them. Robin had been a family friend for ages. With a childlike spirit, he was always good at telling silly jokes or coming up with games, a much-needed ray of brightness and positivity during the dark times that too often plagued the Moors. That night his elf-like features formed a grave expression. It was the most serious they had ever seen him.
“There you three are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you, we have,” he announced when he reached them. “The burrow over yonder is acting as a safe haven for those not fighting. Come on, this way, if you please.” He started to fly in the direction from which he’d come.
“No.” Hermia stopped him. “Please, we want Maleficent to go with you to the safe haven, but we will not.”
“We’re heading to the front lines,” Lysander explained.
Robin looked at them for a moment. Then he nodded. He knew about their longstanding efforts to initiate peace—and how much it would mean to them to stop the fighting for good. Arguing with them would only waste time.
“All right, then,” he replied. “But follow me to the burrow on your way there. Don’t think I could hold her meself.”
The faeries flew single file, silent amid the loud disorder around them. Only when Maleficent was kissed by her parents, gently placed inside the cozy burrow, and surrounded by a mélange of colorful creatures cooing over her did any of them speak.
“Thank you,” Lysander said to Robin meaningfully. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
Then he and Hermia swiftly took off into the black night once more, heading toward the loud noises and flashing lights at the border, until they looked like small ravens soaring in the sky.
As soon as they were out of sight, Robin turned to look at the resting baby, her lips slightly parted, her stomach moving with sleepy waves of breath. She did not know her parents had just flown off into danger so that the Moors could thrive once more.
“Keep sleeping, love,” he whispered to her. “We’ll look after you.”
AS DID MOST NIGHTS FILLED WITH UNWANTED EXCITEMENT, THE EVENING DRAGGED ON SLOWLY. The faeries in the burrow didn’t think they would be able to sleep through the terrifying sounds. Nor did they think the sun would ever rise again to create another morning. But sleep the faeries did, and up the sun rose, marking the start of a new dawn…and a new age. The sun brought with it a chorus of singing birds and a flurry of activity throughout the Moors.
“It’s over!” shouted a hedgehog faerie nearby.
“It’s over!” echoed a few dew faeries flying overhead.
Robin awoke with a start. He furtively looked around. He was alone in the dark burrow. If it had been any other day, he would have laughed merrily, thinking he’d been roped into a game of hide-and-go-seek. Instead, he panicked.
“Maleficent! Pompous possums, where could she have…where could they have…Maleficent!” he squeaked as he raced out of the burrow.