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.

Plink! Another drop fell. Again, Knotgrass brushed away the water.

Plink! Plink! Plink! Unable to ignore the water any longer, Knotgrass looked up, trying to see where it was coming from. Not seeing an obvious leak, she moved over. But it was no use. Plink! Plink! More drops fell, landing only on Knotgrass.

Shooting a dirty look at Flittle, Knotgrass snapped, “Stop doing that!”

“I’m not doing anything,” Flittle protested.

Hiding on the other side of the window, Maleficent stifled a laugh. It was so easy to rattle the pixies. Her shoulders shook as they tried to figure out the origin of the water, blaming each other and then a leak. But as Knotgrass pointed out, a leak would only happen if it was raining. And it most definitely wasn’t raining.

Plink! Plink! Plink! Plink!

The drops came faster and faster, each one falling only on Knotgrass. Finally, she slammed her hand down on the table. “Stop it!” she screamed.

Instantly, the drops ceased. Knotgrass anxiously stared at the ceiling as though waiting for the next wave. But when, after a few moments, no more water fell, she sighed and sat down.

And then it poured.

A torrent of water fell on Knotgrass, drenching her instantly. The other two pixies began to laugh, but as they did, a wave of water poured down the stairs, washing over them. They all screamed.

Outside, Maleficent was racked with laughter. Her body shook and she struggled not to make a sound as she waved her hand again. Inside the cottage thunder boomed and lightning cracked. Looking at Diaval next to her, Maleficent smiled, eager for him to join in the fun, to be her partner in crime as Robin had been so many years earlier. But his expression was serious.

“Oh, come on,” Maleficent said. “That is funny!”

Diaval didn’t respond right away and Maleficent could tell he was working up the courage to speak. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Mistress,” he began, “there’s something I need to know.”

Maleficent let out a sigh. He was ruining all her fun. “And what is that?” she asked, not bothering to hide her aggravation. What possibly could be so important that Diaval would take away from one of the few carefree moments Maleficent allowed herself?

His next question shocked the smirk right off her face. “When are you planning to revoke your curse?”

“Who said I was planning on revoking it?” she asked, turning her attention back to the cottage. “I hate that little beast.”

Diaval shook his head. He had expected Maleficent to be difficult. “You hate Stefan,” he pointed out. “May I speak freely?”

“No,” Maleficent answered. Waving her hand, she moved to transform him. But for once, Diaval didn’t let her. He grabbed her hand, his fingers lacing with hers.

“Any time you don’t like what I have to say, you change me back into a bird,” he pointed out.

Maleficent opened her mouth to retort but then shook her head, thinking better of it. This was not a conversation to be had there or then. Before he could stop her, Maleficent pulled her hand away. Quickly she waved it, transforming him once more into a raven. When he was muted, she sighed. Diaval had taken all the fun out of the day. And for what? To try to save his little friend? Why had he even bothered? Did he think Maleficent would retract the curse and Aurora could live with them? It was a laughable thought. It was not like Aurora could ever be a part of the Moors. She didn’t fit in there. She could never fit in there. How could a human understand and appreciate the magic and nature of the Moors? No, it was silly of Diaval. What was done was done. There was no revoking the curse. Maleficent was perfectly content with that. And what she wanted to do then, more than anything, was continue to play with the pixies.