THE DAY OF THE CHRISTENING ARRIVED. The castle was bustling with activity as servants raced to and fro, decorating the halls and sweeping rooms long since used. The head housekeeper, normally the picture of control, ran around flinging orders at her staff while the king’s personal valet made sure every piece of His Highness’s clothing was pristine.

In the massive kitchen, a fire roared under dozens of pots filled with bubbling soups and sauces. The smells wafted through the room, mixing with the aromas of chicken and duck, cookies and cake. Nearly every surface was covered in flour, yet every dish that went out the door was perfectly plated on gleaming white porcelain plates. No expense had been spared. The guests would dine like never before.

Outside, great care had been taken to make sure everything was perfect. The large trees that stood in front of the castle’s main door had been sheared into immaculate cones. The horses in their stalls had been groomed until their coats shone, and even the hunting dogs had been given a bath and a brushing. The castle walls had been decked out as well. Long blue banners hung from the dozen towers, and on the soft gray stone connecting each one hung even more of the royal banners. The drawbridge had been lowered and Stefan’s flag hung from the archway, waving in the gentle breeze. More festive flags flew from the top of the castle while trumpeters stood on the battlements, heralding the infant. Below, carriages were parked for miles, their passengers dispatched to partake in the huge event.

Inside the Great Hall, hundreds of candles had been lit on the chandeliers that dominated the room, casting a warm glow on the stone floor and walls. A large stained glass window that rose into the arched ceiling forty feet above added muted light for the hundreds of people who had gathered. They were all dressed in their finest, standing shoulder to shoulder, their eyes focused on the podium upon which two huge thrones were perched.

In front of the thrones stood King Stefan and Queen Leila. The queen glowed with pride as she looked down at the infant sleeping in the bassinet. Out of habit, Leila reached up and fingered the bright stone pendant that Stefan had given her when they were first married. She had never seen anything like it, a jewel that seemed to have been made by the sun itself. Catching her playing with the jewelry, Stefan smiled and leaned down to whisper something into her ear.

Well hidden in the back of the crowded room, Maleficent watched Stefan smile at Leila and grimaced. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could see them clearly enough. And what she saw on the queen’s neck was a stone from the jewel pond —another precious item Stefan had stolen from the Moors. How dare he! Maleficent’s hands twitched eagerly.

She watched as Knotgrass, Thistlewit, and Flittle approached the baby. They looked older and perhaps a bit plumper, but otherwise they appeared the same.

Stefan isn’t the only one to have fooled the kingdom, Maleficent mused. Simple humans. So scared of magic, yet so in love with tricks. They probably thought the pixies adorable, with their little wings and harmless magic. Shaking her head in disgust, Maleficent waited to see what they would do next.

Knotgrass was the first to say something. “Sweet Aurora,” she began. “I wish for you the gift of beauty.” Reaching down, she touched the sleeping baby’s blond curls.

Aurora? So that was the baby human’s name, Maleficent thought. Surely Stefan hadn’t been the one to name her. It was actually a nice name. It meant “dawn,” which was Maleficent’s favorite time of day. She shook her head. Now was not the time to be pondering the definition of a name. She turned her attention back to the bassinet.

Next Flittle granted a wish. “My wish,” she said, “is that you’ll never be blue, only happy all the days of your life.”

Finally, Thistlewit stepped forward. “Dear baby,” she began. “I wish you… I wish you…”

Maleficent could no longer idly stand by. Raising her staff, she sent a frigid wind whistling through the hall. Headpieces and clothes were blown about, and the crowd let out scared cries. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed and a dark gray smoke filled the hall. When it cleared, Maleficent stood there, her head held tall, her horns held high. On her shoulder sat Diaval.

The room erupted in whispers as the assembled court tried to figure out who this strange creature was. But one person knew for sure.

“Maleficent!” Stefan cried, his hand at his throat.

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, well. Quite a glittering assemblage, King Stefan,” she sneered. “Royalty, nobility, the gentry, and, how quaint…” She paused and pointed at the three smaller pixies. “Even the rabble.” She turned and looked at the queen. “What a pretty necklace. I really feel quite distressed at not receiving an invitation.”

“You’re not welcome here,” Stefan said, puffing out his chest while beside him Leila brushed the stone at her neck with her fingers.

“Not welcome? Oh dear, what an awkward situation.” Maleficent turned, as if to leave.

Behind her, Queen Leila spoke up, her royal upbringing getting the best of her. She knew who Maleficent was. She had heard the stories from her father and then from Stefan. They had called Maleficent cruel and evil. But she seemed almost agreeable at the moment. “And you’re not offended?”

Maleficent turned back. “Oh, why, no, Your Majesty,” she said, her long fingers fluttering at her heart as she moved closer to the bassinet. “And to show you I bear no ill will, I, too, shall bestow a gift on the baby.”

Stepping in front of Maleficent, Stefan tried to block her. But Maleficent moved past him easily.

“Stay away from the princess!” Knotgrass said, standing protectively in front of the bassinet.

Maleficent laughed. “Gnats,” she said. One by one she flicked them out of her way. Then she leaned over and looked into the bassinet. Baby Aurora smiled at her, her cherubic face as adorable as anything Maleficent had ever seen. In that instant, anger and jealousy swirled inside her like a tempest. She would never have a baby that beautiful. She would probably never have a baby at all. No one to care for. No one to carry on her mother’s wings or her father’s green eyes to a new generation. She could have, but that option had been taken away from her when Stefan betrayed her.

Whipping around, Maleficent angrily threw up her arms and addressed the crowd. “Listen well, all of you,” she intoned. “The princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who know her…”

“That’s a lovely gift,” the queen said, still oblivious to what was really going on. Oblivious to the true history of Maleficent and Stefan.

Putting a finger to Leila’s lips, Maleficent shook her head. She wasn’t finished. Not quite yet. There was one final part to her gift. “But before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she will…” She paused and looked around the room for inspiration. Her eyes landed on one of the presents brought for the baby. She continued. “… prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and fall into a sleep like death. A sleep from which she will never awaken.”

As Maleficent’s words lingered in the air, the gathered crowd let out a collective gasp. Ignoring them, she turned to go. But Stefan’s voice stopped her.

“Maleficent,” he said, stepping forward. “Don’t do this. I’m begging you.”

At the word begging, Maleficent raised one eyebrow. Groveling was so unlike Stefan. Slowly, she turned back around to face him. Her expression was cold as she eyed the only person she had ever loved. His eyes pleaded with her and she saw genuine fear and pain in them. But it mattered not at all. Her heart was frozen. There was irony in the situation. The pain she caused him now was so much like the pain he had caused her… over and over again. Finally, she responded. “I like begging,” she said. “I do. Do it again.”

Stefan peered around the room, aware that his subjects watched his every move. Aware that Maleficent was humiliating him. While he wanted to deny her, he had no choice. His infant daughter’s future was at stake. “I beg you,” he said through clenched teeth.

“All right,” Maleficent replied, shrugging as she threw the king a bone. “The princess can be woken from her death sleep, but only by” —here she paused and narrowed her gaze so that the next words she spoke pierced Stefan to the core— “True Love’s Kiss.”

She almost laughed when she said the words. She had learned from Stefan that things like true love did not exist. “This curse will last until the end of time. No power on Earth can change it.” She turned and began to leave. Behind her, Stefan signaled his guards to attack. But the wind Maleficent had conjured picked up, keeping the guards and guests at bay. In front of her, the door to the throne room blew open. A moment later, Maleficent disappeared through it, leaving panic and chaos in her wake.

As she made her way back to the Moors, she smiled. When she had entered the castle, she had been unsure of what she would do when the time came. She hadn’t known about the gifts the pixies would bestow. Or even how she would feel when once more so close to Stefan. A small part of her had been worried she would be too frightened to do anything at all. But what happened in the end, Maleficent thought, couldn’t have turned out better. It was priceless. An unbreakable curse that was sure to drive Stefan mad and throw the kingdom into mayhem. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Evening had fallen and the night sky was full of stars when Maleficent returned to the Moors. She was energized by the day’s events, and an idea began to form in her head, one to keep the human aggressors out of their land for good. She turned and walked to the very edge of the Moors, where faerie land met human land. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the magic that flowed within her. It had been growing stronger for a while. As she walked through the Moors now, her body called out to the land around her, pulling from its energy, making her stronger. She found that she could even focus on certain flora and fauna and extract magic directly from the individual plants and animals. Which, she thought with a smile, is very useful.

Slowly, she began to speak to the ground. She called out to the grasses and to the roots that lay beneath the soil. She spoke to the trees nearby, asking them to lend their magic, to help her protect the Moors. Magic pulsed all around her, and the air shimmered. As she lifted her arms, dark twisted branches covered with sharp thorns began to rise out of the earth. They sped toward the sky and intertwined with each other, braiding their thick trunks together. As they did so, a wall began to form. The wall continued to grow until it was impossible to see from one side to the other. It grew until its thorns stuck out in all directions, their sharp tips gleaming black. It grew until it rose nearly forty feet in the air. It grew until it was impenetrable.

When Maleficent opened her eyes, the magic stopped flowing from her. She stepped back and nodded. The wall wasn’t pretty, but it would have to do.

Satisfied with her work, Maleficent went back to her throne on the Mound. She glanced at the landscape around her, reveling in the beauty and tranquility of the Moors, which had been restored in her time as ruler there. The other Fair Folk even seemed more comfortable around her, going on with their daily activities without shuddering or flying away whenever she was close by. However, her old friends, Robin included, continued to stay away. Maleficent strangely understood this. She’d lost her friendships as soon as she’d lost her wings and her old sense of self. She was a new faerie now.

In the peaceful silence of the Faerie Mound, she found her mind wandering outside of life at the Moors. She now had time to reflect upon the day’s events. It had felt oh so nice to see Stefan suffer. And casting this curse would help the Moors, too. A weakened human kingdom meant less threat to them, and there was no way Stefan hadn’t been weakened by the curse placed on his only daughter.

Feeling a judgmental gaze, Maleficent looked to her side. Diaval, in his human form, stood there, staring at her. She ignored him and went back to relishing her revenge. But Diaval continued to glare at her, silently chastising her for what she had done. A part of her wanted to try to explain to him that she wasn’t being mean to the baby. She wanted to tell Diaval how badly Stefan had hurt her and how much it still ached, every day, and that that was why she had done what she did. But she couldn’t admit that to him. And she certainly couldn’t wait for him to start expressing his disapproval. So instead, she simply waved a hand and transformed him into a raven. He could caw all he wanted but he wouldn’t be able to reprimand her.