"Be my wings," Diaval had learnt, meant "be my spy." Her wings, her eyes, her ears. And now, her nose.
Ravens can smell carrion a mile away. Diaval could smell that Aurora's diaper needed changing long before he landed on the cottage windowsill. He almost flew away again, but while that would have spared his nose, Aurora's bottom would be left to suffer.
He cawed once, to attract the pixies' attention.
"Oh, look, a crow. Is it good luck to see a crow or bad luck?" Flittle asked.
"It's not a crow, it's a raven," Knotgrass replied. "Dirty bird. Shoo it away before it gets close to Aurora."
"It's seeing a hawk that's good luck," Thistlewit said, "not crows or ravens."
Diaval cawed once in disbelief. There was nothing lucky about seeing a hawk, in his opinion. Hawks were as dangerous as humans.
Flittle asked, "Do you think Aurora would like it as a pet? We could tie a string around its leg or put it in a cage."
"Certainly not! It might bite Aurora." Knotgrass waved her hands. "Shoo. Go away."
Diaval hopped off the windowsill and down to the ground. Out of the idiots' sight, but still close enough to listen.
"The poor thing's probably hungry. Maybe we could toss it some bread crumbs," Thistlewit suggested.
"Goodness knows the bread isn't fit for us to eat," Knotgrass muttered.
"I know King Stefan wants us to stay hidden here, but maybe we should take the cart to the village once a week and buy supplies. Nobody would notice us. We'd just slip into the village, buy some bread and cheese and such, and slip out again," Flittle said.
Knotgrass nodded. "We'd be completely inconspicuous, just three ordinary peasant women."
Outside the cottage, Diaval put his wing over his head.
"Maybe two peasant women," Thistlewit suggested. "Someone should stay with the baby."
"Oh, we can take her with us. The outing would be good for you, wouldn't it, Aurora?"
Outside the cottage, Diaval could hear footsteps, and guessed that Knotgrass was walking to the cradle. A second later, he heard her cry out in dismay.
"Stinky baby! Flittle, it's your turn to change the baby," Knotgrass said.
"No, it's not, it's Thistlewit's turn," Flittle protested.
"I did it last time," Thistlewit complained.
Diaval launched himself into the air. They would squabble, but sooner or later one of them would change the baby. Mission accomplished. His little chick would be taken care of.
Diaval nearly flew into a tree, surprised by his own thought. When had he begun thinking of her as his chick?
"So the Marshfolk are complaining, are they? What are they saying?" Maleficent demanded.
"Mistress, what does it matter if they grumble against you? You're the most powerful fairy in the Moors," Diaval pointed out. "They can't do anything; they're just squawking."
She twirled her fingers. He transformed from a man into a raven. "When I want your opinion, I'll tell you."
Diaval swooped down to the walled garden, nestled away in a corner of the castle's courtyard. Queen Leila sat in the garden weeping.
One of her ladies-in-waiting gave her a handkerchief. "There will be other babes, my queen."
"Other babes, to be cursed by that foul witch?" Leila all but spat the words out.
"Perhaps the Evil One will not touch the next child," the other lady-in-waiting suggested.
"There will be no next child. I'll sleep alone before I risk bearing another child to be stolen away."
"Not stolen, my queen, hidden. The princess is safely hidden away from the Evil One."
"Hidden by three fairies. Hidden from her own parents. Why should he trust three of the Fair Folk, when he has always hated the Moors and its inhabitants, when he couldn't trust my father's guards?" demanded Queen Leila.
The ladies-in-waiting had no answer for her.
Diaval cawed once and flew away. He'd come to eavesdrop on the gossip in the guards' barracks, not to be an unwilling witness to the queen's sorrow.