Maleficent

Chapter One

NIGHT HAD FALLEN. INSIDE THE MOORS, FAERIES SLEPT, LULLED BY THE TRICKLING WATER OF THE STREAMS AND THE GENTLE RUSTLE OF THE WIND THROUGH THE TREES.

Suddenly, the stillness of the night was broken by a loud snap. Somewhere at the edge of the Moors, a twig broke.

Three human men, trespassers in the Moors, froze at the sound. Looking nervously at each other, they waited to see if the noise had woken anyone — or anything. When no faeries appeared, they collectively sighed with relief.

The youngest of the men sighed the loudest. Ben hadn’t wanted to come in the first place. He had heard the stories of the Moors. He had seen the huge winged fey who flew in the sky from time to time, and the sight always unnerved him. He thought the Moors were too close, even with the river separating them from Ulstead. “They can fly,” Ben told his family and friends when they teased him about his discomfort with the faeries, “which means they could fly over the river if they wanted.” It was hard to argue with that logic.

But his friend Colin had told him it would be a quick — and profitable — trip. So he had agreed. Only now he was beginning to regret his decision. From the moment they had entered the Moors, he had been covered in gooseflesh. He knew it was silly, but he felt as though the trees themselves were watching, the grass listening. Even at night, Ulstead was brighter, torches lining the streets and providing illumination in the darkest hour. Here the only light that shone was from the moon and stars hanging in the sky. And that night the sky was dotted with clouds obscuring the little light they had.

“Let’s turn back,” Ben whispered as Colin and the other man resumed walking.

“And lose good money?” the third man, Thomas, said, shaking his bald head. “Not a chance.”

Ben frowned. He didn’t know Thomas. They had just met that night. But Ben didn’t trust him. His eyes were calculating and cold. He was the one who had convinced Colin to embark on this expedition across the river, and Ben had a feeling it wasn’t going to end well.

“Stay close,” Colin said, looking over his shoulder at Ben. He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to. Ben knew that look well enough. Colin was telling him to stay quiet and keep his head down. They both needed the money, no matter the danger.

Reluctantly, Ben followed the men farther into the woods. Deeper in, the sounds were more muffled, the night even darker. Coming to a stop in front of a tall tree, Colin nodded. “Here we are.” He pulled a small ax from his pack and began to hack at the trunk of the tree. The sound surprised Ben, and he flinched. Colin kept swinging until, finally, a huge chunk of bark came free. Behind it was a small woodland faerie. The creature was sleeping, slightly snoring, with its little eyes closed. Quickly, Colin reached out, wrapped his hand around the faerie, and stuffed the creature into a bag he had over his shoulder. Colin pulled more bark free and continued to plunder the tree of its faerie occupants. Next to him, Thomas was doing the same, his bald head bent as he focused on his mission.

Ben looked down and saw that the tree was covered in mushrooms. But soon the fungi began to move and squirm, and he realized the toadstools were actually faeries who looked like mushrooms. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and grabbed one.

“Ow!” Ben shouted as the mushroom faerie bit him on the finger. The creature was small, his teeth smaller still, so his bite wasn’t deadly. But it stung. “You’ll pay for that!” Ben said. The faerie bit down again, harder this time. Reflexively, Ben dropped the mushroom faerie, who immediately took off into the woods. Ben followed, exchanging insults with the faerie as they ran. In moments, they had left the thick, muffled stillness of the forest and raced into a clearing. Still shouting insults, Ben plodded into the wide-open space. Out there, he was no longer protected by the shadows of the trees. The other two men had disappeared from view, swallowed up by the forest. But Ben didn’t care. He was too focused on getting the faerie into the bag.

He slowed his steps and came to a stop. Like a predator on the hunt, Ben sank to the ground and quieted his breathing. Then he waited. Not hearing footsteps behind him, the mushroom faerie stopped, too. It was only for a moment, but it was just long enough. Shouting, Ben took a diving leap. He flew through the air and then landed on the ground, his hands wrapping tightly around the faerie. As the creature wiggled and squirmed, Ben laughed triumphantly. “I’ll get double for a mushroom,” he said. “In ya go.” Stuffing the faerie deep into the bag, Ben turned. Only then did he realize he was far from where he had started. He headed back toward the woods.

Meanwhile, Colin and Thomas continued to pluck faeries from the tree, oblivious to everything but the task at hand and the visions of money running through their heads. They didn’t hear the sound of wings flapping or the gentle rustling of leaves behind them. They didn’t realize anything was amiss until, suddenly, the sky went completely black — as if someone had turned off the moon.

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.