Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I should have known I’d leave alone, just goes to show
That the blood you bleed is just the blood you owe.
That I’d fallen for a lie, you were never on my side,
Fool me once, fool me twice, are you death or paradise?
—Billie Eilish, “No Time To Die”

The first tinges of evening crept into the dusky auburn sky by the time Mount Tempest’s long shadow cast itself upon Siri. Trudging through the tall grass with three other lionesses, she felt a brief yet familiar sense of well-being as the hot, brittle dirt cooled beneath her paws, putting a lightness in her step in spite of the antelope carcass splayed across the hunting party’s backs. Mount Tempest was illuminated by the sun sinking behind the not-too-distant mountain range, finally allowing her to peer up directly at the towering fortress her pride called home.

Fika, the lioness shuffling along on Siri’s left, gave a sigh of fatigue. “Home sweet home. Told you we’d make it back before nightfall.”

To Siri’s right, Bidi moaned in relief as her toes sank into the moist dirt. “Finally. That was way farther than we went last time.”

“You always say that,” Fika grumbled, though she too relaxed with every step.

“Because it’s true,” insisted Bidi. “The herds are getting scarcer by the day. Word is they’re leaving the kingdom one by one.”

Fika snorted. “‘Kingdom’. It’s like a bad joke, still calling it that.”

“Keep it moving,” intoned Hamu, the hunting party’s leader. Unlike the others, she maintained her pace from the opposite end of the formation. “The sooner we reach the plateau, the sooner we can rest.”

As Hamu parted the grass to guide them through the field, the antelope sagged heavily toward her side. Siri promptly slid in between her and Fika, holding up the carcass by the middle to prevent it from tumbling off their backs.

Hamu exhaled. “Good catch,” she said with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“Thank me after we get this up the plateau,” grunted Siri, staggering a little as she fell back into step with the others.

“My favourite part. I don’t suppose you’ll be joining us for dinner?”

Siri managed a half-shrug against the antelope’s abdomen. “Someone needs to bring Malka his share. And he could use the company.”

Hamu’s smile became ginger but did not vanish. “Your choice. I disagree on both counts though.”

“Would it kill him to eat outside like a normal person?” complained Bidi. “Tell Malka to lug his mopey corpse out of Mount Tempest, Siri. He could use the exercise.”

Siri tried and failed to suppress a grin at the thought. “Hey, you’re more than welcome to tell him yourself, Bidi—”

Hamu raised one paw, and Siri immediately fell silent. The hunting party came to a halt.

Bidi groaned. “Why are we stopping, we’re al—”

“Shhh.” Hamu’s eyes scanned the skies attentively. There was a tension in her shoulders, and Siri could tell it had nothing to do with the burden on her back. “Do you hear that?”

The others looked around, listening closely for a moment. “Silence?” said Fika, mystified.

“Exactly,” Hamu affirmed in a hushed tone, beckoning for everyone to put the carcass down. “The birds aren’t chirping. The bugs have stopped chattering too.”

Siri’s attention was drawn by a muted scent in the air — something fresh and earthy, yet oddly subtle. Her brow tightened in concentration, nose twitching in an effort to identify the elusive smell.

“Maybe they’re leaving, like the herds?” guessed Bidi.

“No,” said Hamu firmly. “There were plenty of birds singing at dusk yesterday. Same with the bugs, they always come before sundown.”

Something about her words sent a chill down Siri’s spine. Her ears pricked up instinctively at the sound of heavy pawsteps atop the plateau. “Hide!” she hissed as the faint scent quickly grew more pronounced.

The hunting party scattered with well-practiced agility, barely making a rustle as they vanished into the yellowing grass. Siri dove for the base of the plateau, silently pressing herself beneath a jutting ledge to conceal herself.

A towering muscle-bound lion appeared atop the small cliff, nose pointed to the sky to show a snout riddled with faded cuts and gouges. A gust of wind pushed back the dark crimson mane from around his face, revealing countless streaks of scarring where his grey-brown fur had refused to grow back. His vigilant cyan eyes scanned the grassland with single-minded intent.

Siri silently clamped a paw over her mouth, holding back a gasp of shock and recognition. That’s... Jeraha? Her heartbeat raced as furiously as the thoughts flooding into her mind, and she forced herself to hold still, knowing he needed only look down to see her.

Jeraha craned his neck to peer closely at the dead antelope in the grass, and in that moment Siri was thankful its blood-tinged scent was strong enough to conceal hers. The big lion bared his teeth before withdrawing from view once more, although Siri did not release the breath she had been holding until the sound of his pawsteps retreated in full. As his scent receded with him, she was finally able to place what it was — pine needles. A pit formed in her stomach at the realization.

Not far from where the carcass laid, Hamu poked her head out of the grass and motioned for Siri to follow her. The two lionesses made their way around the base of the plateau, staying light on their paws so as not to alert the intruders outside Mount Tempest. Siri could hear snatches of conversation amidst the sound of movement up top, though she was still too far away to make out the words.

“That wasn’t one of ours,” whispered Hamu.

“No,” Siri murmured. “We gotta move, he’ll be looking for us.”

The other lioness stopped to give her a quizzical look. “You know him?”

“He’s hard to mistake for anyone else. Did you smell it on him too?”

Hamu nodded. “Pine needles. They’re concealing their scent, so it’s hard to tell how many of them there are.” She sniffed at the evening air carefully. “There’s... something else, actually. Blood.”

Siri frowned, also trying to pinpoint where the metallic scent was coming from. “That’s weird, we left the carcass all the way back...” She trailed off when the horrifying realization struck her. “Wait. That’s not antelope blood, it’s—”

“Lion,” Hamu finished grimly. “We need to find Fika and Bidi now.”

Up ahead, the escarpment cliffs gave way to a gentle incline, connecting the grassland to the plateau upon which Mount Tempest sat. As Siri peeked around the slope, the first thing she noticed was that the main entrance was covered to the brim in stones. Two of her pride members, Kaidi and Chumvi, were digging at the obstruction while closely watched by four lions Siri did not recognize.

She felt a stiff nudge from Hamu, who was staring toward the other side of the plateau. Siri followed her gaze and had to choke back a cry when she saw them — seven more of her pride lying dead near the base of the mountain. Not far from their bodies, four trembling cubs were guarded by another group of lions. She drew back upon catching the sound of nearby pawsteps, and waited for the patrol to pass by before peeking out again. “There are more of them than I remember.”

“There won’t be when I’m through with them,” Hamu hissed. She moved to step out from her concealed position.

“Hamu, wait!” Siri immediately pulled her back. “We’re outnumbered, and these lions don’t mess around.”

“I can’t just sit here,” seethed the other lioness. “They have my daughter.”

“I know. But these aren’t your average ragtag rogues. They’re well-trained, disciplined — and they have powerful friends.”

Hamu stopped trying to push her way past, though her teeth were still clenched. “Who are they, Siri? Really?”

“They’re called the Duara Vunja,” Siri explained in a low voice. “We were just a few outcasts at first, but...”

“‘We’?” repeated Hamu.

Siri winced but knew there was no taking back the slip. “Long story. Too long to get into right now.”

The look Hamu sent her way told her she would have a lot of explaining to do later. “What are they doing here? What do they want with us?”

“That might be a little more complicated. I didn’t think they were the invading type.” Shifting her gaze past Hamu, who was now glaring a hole into the side of her head, Siri peered up over the rim of the plateau. She instinctively averted her eyes from the bodies of her pride members and took a quick count of the lions present. “I see at least twenty.”

“Any of them ours?”

“Unfortunately, no. It looks like the rest of the pride either holed up or got away.” Siri fought back the flutter of panic rising in her chest. “There’s gotta be even more on the other side. How are we supposed to do this on our own?”

“We’ll need a distraction,” said Hamu decidedly, sounding completely undeterred. “Let’s group up with Fika and Bidi.”

The sound of a scuffle arose from the other side of the slope, prompting Siri and Hamu to duck behind a nearby boulder. A moment later, Fika was dragged out of the grass by Jeraha, followed by a struggling Bidi who was held by an angular grey lioness — Kivuli. Siri’s stomach sank as she watched her friends being escorted up the plateau. That’s it then. If Kivuli and Jeraha are both here, then she definitely is.

“Spirits help us,” groaned Hamu in exacerbation. “You weren’t kidding, these lions know their stuff.”

“But they don’t know Mount Tempest like we do,” realized Siri, her gaze resting contemplatively upon the mountain fortress. “That’s the only advantage we have right now.”

Hamu looked deep in thought for a moment. “You just gave me an idea for that distraction. I need to get inside though, and it looks like I’ll have to take the long way if we want to catch them by surprise.”

Siri nodded stiffly, resolve now pushing back against her growing despair. “I’ll get you as much time as I can. Whatever happens to me, don’t let them see you, alright?”

“Wait, what are you doing? Siri?” whispered Hamu in alarm, holding out a paw to stop her.

Siri wordlessly gave her their “stay quiet” hunting signal before padding noiselessly away from their hiding place. She marched headlong up the side of the plateau, making no attempt to conceal herself. Ignoring the multitude of eyes darting her way, she kept her gaze forward as she made a beeline for Jeraha and Kivuli, who turned about to see what everyone was now staring at. Forcing herself to ignore Fika and Bidi’s looks of perturbed consternation, Siri stopped some ten paces away and locked her gaze with Jeraha’s.

He harrumphed, looking a little perplexed himself at her boldness. “Siri. I thought I caught your scent earlier.”

“Too bad you didn’t think to look straight down,” Siri goaded bitingly. “Then again, your nose always was a little faster than your brain.”

The burly lion bristled at the jibe. Kivuli cracked an amused grin in spite of herself, while Fika and Bidi’s perplexed expressions indicated that they had no idea what Siri was doing.

Jeraha took a few menacing steps toward her. “You weren’t so mouthy when you were hiding from me earlier. I could practically smell your fear — still do, but here you are. Why?”

“It’s not every day my home gets invaded,” Siri spat venomously, though the slight tremble in her voice only affirmed his words. “Either of you gonna tell me why you killed seven of my pride members?”

“‘Your’ pride members,” Kivuli repeated scornfully. “For a supposed nomad, you got cozy here very quickly.”

“What I did after I left,” growled Siri, “is none of your business.”

A hard edge entered Kivuli’s watchful silver eyes. “Oh, but it is. Things changed after you walked away. The mission changed.”

“What mission?” Siri exclaimed. “Simba got to Scar first, we all heard the news. There was no more mission.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

Siri stiffened in recognition at the sound of the voice. A lioness stalked past her from behind, her dusky brown fur darker and thinner than Siri’s; she solemnly observed Siri as she sat down between Jeraha and Kivuli. Siri’s heart was now pounding even more feverishly than before, though it was no longer out of fear. “Janga.”

“Siri.” Janga motioned to Jeraha and Kivuli, who promptly escorted Fika and Bidi away. She barely paid them any notice even as Siri watched her friends being marched off. “You can sit if you want, you know.”

“I’ll stand, thanks,” snapped Siri, anger now erupting from the mix of emotions threatening to overtake her. “This is my home, not yours, and last I checked, it has zip to do with Scar.”

“This isn’t about Scar anymore.”

Siri gestured to the largely unfamiliar lions occupying the plateau. “Then what is it about? You think you can make this make sense to me?”

“I do,” Janga said unflinchingly. “I’m going to tear down every last kingdom in the land, Siri. And I’m prepared to die trying.”

“Even if they aren’t your enemies?” challenged Siri. “Even if their rulers are noble?”

“Is your king noble?”

Siri fell silent. She angrily averted her gaze from the other lioness, knowing there was no honest refutation to the question.

“You know why Malka is the king?” Janga asked contemptuously. “Because his father was the king — a vile and despicable lion, as I’m sure the Mtera Pride has told you. Do you know what became of him?”

“Yes,” snapped Siri. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, the kingdoms are a vestige of a bygone era, littered with unworthy rulers obsessing over bloodlines and jealously guarding their so-called birthright. It’s time for that to end.”

“Not like this. My pride never asked for this.”

“No, they needed it,” Janga asserted fiercely. “I don’t intend to merely change the course of history — I intend to stop it from repeating itself. This kingdom was dying long before I came, Siri, and I’d sooner put it out of its misery than let Scar happen again.”

“That’s not... Malka isn’t—” Siri blustered.

“Spare me,” scowled Janga. “The Keepers heard everything from the animals that left this place behind.”

Disbelief prompted Siri to angrily meet her gaze again. “Th—the Keepers sanctioned this?”

“Of course not. But they’ll have to accept it when they do find out. That’s good enough for me.”

The two lionesses stared at each other for a long moment. And of all the thoughts raging inside her head, Siri realized that the most upsetting thing wasn’t how much Janga had changed — it was how much she hadn’t. “Janga... what happened to you?”

“Too much, which is why I’m not stopping now,” Janga said quietly. “I told you I wouldn’t.”

“And I walked away because I believed you.” Siri’s voice became sullen with emotional defeat. “But I could never believe you’d do something like this.”

Janga drew back, and although Siri thought she caught a glimpse of longing behind her fervid orange eyes, her expression was firm and devoid of uncertainty. “Come quietly, Siri. You know too much for me to let you go, but you won’t be harmed if you surrender.”

“Did you give them the chance to come quietly?” Siri jerked her snout in the direction of the dead lions. Janga remained silent, confirming the truth she already knew. Shaking her head disparagingly, Siri unsheathed her claws.

The other lioness did the same, and the eight lions closed ranks to form a crude circle around them. “Last chance,” implored Janga. “You still have a choice.”

“I made my choice the day I left you,” Siri told her coldly. “I will never want your mercy, not if I have to suffer a hundred times over to prove it to you. Do you understand?”

Janga closed her eyes and let out a drawn-out exhale through her nose. She nodded resolutely before reopening her eyes. Siri braced herself on her hind legs, shifting into a ready combat stance though she already knew there was only one possible outcome. Even if I somehow best her, there’s no escaping the Duara Vunja. She pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on watching Janga like a hawk.

The tension was disrupted by the sudden boom of stone crashing against stone, and the plateau shook unexpectedly as an avalanche of rocks and boulders tumbled out from Mount Tempest. The lions surrounding Siri whirled toward the clamour while the rest of the Duara Vunja scrambled in every direction to avoid getting crushed. Even Janga involuntarily glanced away for a fleeting moment, and Siri made her move without hesitation, leaping forward with claws outstretched.

The other lioness leaned back, eyes on her once more as she narrowly avoided the claws grazing past her throat. One of her paws caught against Siri’s, causing them both to stagger into the circle of lions and tumble to the ground in a heap.

“Janga! They’re escaping!”

Siri registered the speaker as Kupinga, another familiar voice from the past. But she did not falter as she untangled herself from the enemy lions. The rest moved to intercept her bid for freedom, but Janga, who scrambled to her paws, shouted, “No, I’ve got her! Go secure the captives!

Having made it to the edge of the plateau by then, Siri expediently leapt from the escarpment. She broke her fall by rolling into the grass, and stumbled into a sprint before she heard someone drop down close behind her. Janga. Pulse racing frantically, Siri wondered if her best chance would be to stand and fight once they were far enough from the other lions. I’m done for if I run myself ragged. And I’m nearly spent after the hunt, but maybe they’re tired too from the attack—

Just then Siri gave a startled grunt as she nearly tripped over the dead antelope in the grass. She thrust out her front paws, bracing against the carcass’ shoulder to stop herself from getting skewered by its antlers. Janga burst out from the grass a heartbeat later, and Siri instinctively rolled aside to hit the dirt. She heard a whump, followed by a roar of pain, and craned her neck to see the other lioness entangled between the antlers, writhing and clasping her right eye. Siri smelled fresh blood even before she saw the dark trickle running from under Janga’s paw.

Though she hadn’t fully regained her breath, Siri forced herself up and continued running, knowing she had only moments before the Duara Vunja would follow. As she dashed away from Janga’s thrashing form, she took one last look back at Mount Tempest and saw that Hamu had completely buried the pass leading into the mountain range. Did she free the others? Did any of them even get away?

Siri dispelled the thoughts, knowing there was nothing she could do now except run. The night was upon her, and for the first time in a long time, she was completely alone.

•••

Janga had managed to extricate herself, blinking warm droplets out of her vision as her paws came away smeared with crimson. She straightened as Jeraha and Kivuli appeared at her side, refusing to so much as clench her teeth despite the stinging sensation on the right side of her face. “Report.”

Kivuli took a step forward. “Janga, you’re—”

“I know,” snapped Janga, not wanting to discuss it. “Report.”

“The adults made it into the mountains,” Jeraha informed her, “along with one of the cubs.”

“We caught a lioness trying to slip away on the far side of the plateau,” added Kivuli. “I suspect she’s the one who blocked the pass.”

“Then she knows another way into Mount Tempest,” Janga surmised. “See what you can get out of her.”

“I’m on it.” Kivuli’s eyes lingered on the bleeding gash on Janga’s face, but she said nothing else before whisking her way back up the plateau.

“What about the ones that escaped?” asked Jeraha.

Janga contemplated her options for a moment. “I’ll send a few teams into the mountains once we dig out the pass,” she decided. “But Siri is the priority. She’s the only one who really knows about us.”

He huffed, though not out of disapproval. “Just say the word, Janga.”

“Kill her.” Her voice did not waver as she gave the order. “She’ll tell Simba everything if she gets to the Pride Lands before we do.”

Jeraha raised his head skyward and roared authoritatively. A moment later, five lions appeared atop the plateau and gracefully leaped down to join him.

“Don’t toy with her, alright?” Janga reminded him. “She deserves a quick death.”

She received a displeased growl in response, but he nodded affirmatively nonetheless. “See you on the other side of the mountains,” he said, stepping through the grass where Siri had left her trail. His lions followed closely behind, disappearing one by one into the thick of the grassland.

Janga cast her gaze down into a small puddle before her. She gave a frustrated growl as blood ran from the gash over her eye and down her snout. She wiped it away irately, though her reflection revealed that even the lighter fur around her jaw was now stained red. With a short sigh, she lowered her paw and let the wound run freely. A lot more blood will be spilled before this can end. There’s no changing that, not while these lands are still ruled by the old ways.

Simba. Have you learned nothing from Scar’s mistakes? I certainly have, and I will gladly bleed your kingdom dry to ensure that it never rises again.

Now you’ll never see me cry,
There’s just no time to die.
I let it burn, you’re no longer my concern,
Faces from my past return, another lesson yet to learn.

Chapter Text

If I could reach the stars, pull one down for you,
Shine it on my heart so you could see the truth.
That this love I have inside is everything, it seems,
But for now I find it’s only in my dreams.
—Eric Clapton, “Change the World”

Sitting beneath the shade of a mnyasa tree, Kopa closely watched the cross-legged chimps sitting around the forest clearing, trying to mimic their upright position the best he could. Observing the way the primates rested their hands on their knees with palms facing toward the sky, he attempted to do the same — and immediately toppled face-first into the dirt.

A few chimps opened their eyes and glared at him over their shoulders. The younger ones snickered to themselves while he hastily righted himself with a sheepish grin. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Twendeni safari,” intoned Tanzu , the old chimp at the front of the gathering. “Moja kwa moja.” He sat facing the same way as everyone else, and did not open his eyes as some of the chimps shifted with discomfort. “You may sit however you wish. The body must be attuned to the mind in order to align with the spirit.”

A few chimps uncrossed their legs with more than a little relief. Kopa drew a deep breath and sat up a little straighter, using his front paws to balance his posture.

“This morning we will focus on water meditation,” Tanzu said. “Water is the salve with which time heals all wounds. It guides us in reconciling the past with the present. Close your eyes, everyone.”

Kopa did so, letting the surrounding ambience seep in from the periphery of his senses. The leaves rustling overhead faded into the background as the Zuberi River’s softly lapping current came into focus.

Tanzu waited for the chimps to settle once more before continuing. “Just as water gives life to this river, the past is the lifeblood of the future, and the present its endless heartbeat. It cannot be disrupted or separated, this singular entity we perceive as time. And the river is our quiet and constant reminder that every present inevitably becomes the past.”

It was then that Kopa became aware of the faint shadows flitting at the edges of his consciousness, nearly invisible against the dark. For a moment he thought he could hear the heavy patter of rain, and strained to draw closer to its source.

“Relax, Kopa,” Tanzu instructed gently. “Recollection is a delicate process. Let it come to you.”

Kopa obeyed, realizing that his shoulders were clenched. He let his breathing even out, inhaling and exhaling in tandem with the river’s ebb and flow.

“Very good. A lion’s ferocity should be matched only by his restraint.”

The shifting shadows were morphing into shapes now. Out of the sunlight permeating Kopa’s eyelids formed the hazy image of a savanna beneath a bright sunny sky. He tried to look around but found that he couldn’t see more than the memory would allow.

Kopa held his breath in anticipation as two of the shapes sharpened into the unmistakable forms of lions. Their faces were blurred and out of clarity, but he could make out snatches of their features — a pair of thoughtful teal-green eyes, a red-brown mane against a vibrant golden pelt — but to his frustration the images refused to focus themselves.

Then an unusually tall formation in the distance caught his eye; what it was exactly, he wasn’t sure. “I... I see something...”

“Shh,” Tanzu murmured soothingly. “Be patient. Just observe.”

“Am I supposed to see something too?” interjected Chamba, one of Tanzu’s younger grandsons. “Because I don’t.”

“Shut up, Chamba,” grunted Kima, his adolescent older brother.

“But I want to know what Kopa saw.”

“Then go stick your head in the river.”

Chamba could be heard blowing a raspberry. “Or I can light yours on fire. Then we’ll see who sticks their head in the river.”

“Grandpa, Chamba’s being a nuisance,” Kima complained loudly.

“What?” retorted Chamba. “Maybe it’ll help with your fire meditation.”

Kopa made an exasperated noise, eyes snapping open as he gave up trying to tune out the chimps. “I’d stick my head in a tree trunk if it gets me some peace and quiet for a change.”

“Remember, Kopa,” Tanzu chuckled, “patience must be learned before it can be taught.”

“I can’t learn anything with all this chatter, never mind patience.” Kopa irritably got up to leave.

Tanzu smiled wryly but did not open his eyes. “Then go forth and find your peace, my child. Sisi ni sawa. We are one.”

A bead of glimmering sunlight caught Kopa’s eye as it fell from the mnyasa leaves above. He looked up in time to feel a water droplet spatter against his snout, and then—

A streak of lightning in the dead of night. A pair of gleaming red eyes watching him through a raging downpour. Razor-sharp claws reaching for him, a crash of thunder, and then he was falling—

Kopa flinched when he felt something press against his foreleg, and he realized that he was lying prone with both paws over his head. He opened his eyes to see Tanzu kneeling beside him while the others stared in concern.

“Are you alright, Kopa?” asked the old chimp, though his voice was heavily muted by the furious pounding in Kopa’s ears. “What did you see?”

“It... it was her.” Even his own voice sounded like it was coming from a distance, and as his senses slowly returned, he became aware that he was trembling.

Tanzu grimaced. He turned his attention back to the other chimps, whose consternation had subsided into curiosity. “Thank you, everyone, that will be all for today. Give us some privacy, please.”

The chimps immediately rose. One by one they began climbing up into the surrounding trees and swinging away from the clearing. Chamba and Kima were the last to leave, their stares lingering on Kopa before they joined the others as well. He said nothing, trying to chase the images from his mind as his pulse gradually settled.

Tanzu waited until the chimps’ movements faded from earshot before he turned to face Kopa again. “Tell me what you saw. Even the parts you did not want to.”

Kopa’s eyes turned downcast. “It was the same thing I always see. It was dark, a-and stormy, and then... her claws, reaching for me.”

Tanzu resumed a cross-legged position as he sat down across from Kopa. The old chimp gestured for him to go on.

“She somehow always finds me in my nightmares,” Kopa lamented. “And I know I’m safe, that she isn’t here to hurt me. I know I... shouldn’t be afraid.”

“‘Shouldn’t be’?” prompted Tanzu.

“I’m tired of being afraid, Tanzu,” Kopa confessed quietly. “I don’t even know who she is.”

“Hmm.” The old chimp gave him a shrewd look. “You are so fixated on her, but what about who you are?”

“Who I was got shredded and thrown into a river. I just want to know why.”

Tanzu’s weathered features crinkled sympathetically. “I understand, my child, but what I asked was who you are — not who you were. Remember, the present—”

“—inevitably becomes the past,” finished Kopa. “I know, I was listening.” He let out a long exhale through his nose, thoughts now turning to his vision of the savanna. “I saw something else this time. Two lions, though I couldn’t make out their faces. The more I tried, the harder it got.”

“Because we do not conjure our thoughts,” Tanzu stated with a raised finger. “We merely experience them as the mind presents them to us.” He patted Kopa on the shoulder. “Do not be discouraged, Kopa. The heart often dwells upon the past, but the eyes see only the present and the mind guides you toward the future. Find the balance between them and there you will find peace also.”

Kopa finally managed a small smile as he got up. “I’ll do my best, Tanzu. Thanks.”

“Be well, my child.” With that, Tanzu hopped to his feet and nimbly leaped onto the mnyasa tree, climbing up its lanky trunk with remarkable agility for his age. The sound of the old chimp’s movements was quickly swallowed up by the ambience of the forest, leaving only silence over the clearing.

Turning to face the Zuberi River, Kopa followed its shimmering current along the winding riverbank. With the sun now climbing steadily in the morning sky, he could hear the other inhabitants up and about, chittering busily in the canopy overhead. Every now and then he spotted a zebra or a duiker weaving through the sprawling undergrowth; sometimes they nodded politely before going on with their morning routine, albeit while keeping their distance.

Kopa wasn’t offended. Although he abided by the Maelewano Forest’s no-hunting laws, he had no intention of adapting a non-meat diet like Tanzu’s chimps, something the others were well aware of. As far as he was concerned, the fact that they didn’t run the other way whenever they saw him was already a considerable show of trust.

The foliage up ahead was intersected by a well-trodden dirt path, and just past the shrubbery was an okapi he recognized as Kiri. She was strolling up along the path behind a calf.

Kiri ruffled her enormous ears in greeting. “Good morning, Kopa.”

“Morning, Kiri,” he called back. “I haven’t seen you since you were—”

The okapi calf squeaked in terror upon catching sight of Kopa and scrambled to hide behind Kiri’s striped legs.

“—pregnant. Is this who all the fuss was about?” Kopa smiled at the diminutive creature, hoping he wasn’t showing too many teeth.

Kiri nodded. “This is my son, Hoji. I’m teaching him how to forage now that he can walk.” She crouched down over her trembling offspring. “It’s okay, Hoji. He’s not going to hurt you, see?”

“W-what is he, mommy?” stammered Hoji.

“A lion, sweetheart,” she replied. “Kopa and his friend live in the forest, just like us.”

“Don’t... don’t lions... eat other animals?”

“Not in this forest,” Kopa assured him. “We hunt in the mountains, where the other carnivores live.”

The calf blinked in confusion. “But those animals have families too, don’t they?”

“They do, but...” Kopa faltered, not sure how to best answer this.

Kiri cleared her throat. “Let’s keep moving for now, son. Stay goodbye to Kopa.”

“Bye,” mumbled Hoji, still looking a little nervous.

“See you.” Kopa held an awkward smile, watching for a moment as the two okapi headed upstream. As he continued on his way, he wondered if his own mother ever stopped thinking about him — wherever she was now.

“You are never far from my sight or my protection...”

Kopa gasped as the words surfaced from the depths of his mind, instantly coming to a stumbling halt. My mom said that to me. I’m certain it was her. Slumping against a large rock, he pressed a paw to his head once more, trying to connect a face to the voice.

“Oh no, not again. We found this one first, Kopa, so you can buzz off.”

Startled, Kopa peered down to see several chameleons shimmer into visibility atop the rock he was leaning on. Their pointed glares told him they were not keen on sharing, and he tilted his head in puzzlement. “Hang on, this isn’t your territory.”

“And our rock wasn’t yours to take,” snapped Ficha, the chameleon leader, “but that didn’t stop Tumaini from nearly flattening us, did it?”

“He did what?” Kopa yelped.

“You heard right. I had to relocate my family here for their own safety. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to give Tumaini a piece of my mind.”

“No, let me handle it,” Kopa said, exasperated. “It must have been a misunderstanding — you guys blend in too well sometimes.”

“And you lions ought to be more mindful. Even if Tumaini didn’t mean any harm — and I’m sure he didn’t — the two of you are big enough to be dangerous for us.”

“You’re right, Ficha. I’ll see about getting your rock back.” Kopa hurried on, now picking up the pace a little. The Zuberi River’s frothing rush grew more vigorous as it cascaded into the lower region of the forest.

Tanzu once said the Zuberi was named after a great lion king, he recalled. The first ruler of a kingdom called the Serengeti Pride Lands. Kopa broke into a steady sprint as the riverbank transformed into a downward slope, hopping and bounding over the familiar crests and dips he had navigated countless times before.

“The river can be as fearsome and wild as a lion,” the old chimp once told him. “But its gentle nature endures, despite the storms it has weathered. And much like this river, you will always have a place among the animals in this forest.”

Just beyond a bend in the Zuberi River, Kopa caught a glimpse of a familiarly crude stone den hewn out of the side of the riverbank. Home. His ears pricked up at the muffled sound of banging and scraping up ahead, interspersed by the occasional grunt of exertion.

It wasn’t long before he spotted a boulder the size of a small elephant, sitting a few paces from the mouth of the den. Braced against the side was Tumaini, his lanky black-maned form straining against it as it carved a shallow canal out of the densely packed dirt.

Kopa noticed that the makeshift trench was pointed directly at the mouth of the den, and seeing that his friend hadn’t noticed him, cleared his throat to get his attention. “Didn’t you always tell me not to take what wasn’t mine?”

Tumaini gave a start and nearly toppled over in surprise. He quickly righted himself, however. “If it already belongs to someone else,” he said tersely, sounding just a bit breathless. He climbed on top of the boulder and jumped up and down, wedging it deeper into the ground in between his words. “This was just... sitting... on top of a hill.”

Kopa suppressed a groan. “And let me guess, you rolled it off the side of the hill?”

“Sure did. It got pretty far into the forest before I had to start pushing.” Tumaini huddled over to catch his breath for a moment, then hopped back into the trench. “Help me get this into the river, would you? We gotta divert some water into the den.”

As he placed his paws against the boulder once more, Kopa did the same on the opposite side, prompting an inquisitive look from Tumaini. Kopa did not budge, however. “No, we actually have to do something a lot less fun.”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

Kopa sized up the rock, feeling its hefty weight against his paw. He was already dreading the prospect of having to roll it back uphill. “Nothing we can’t fix between the two of us. I hope.”

•••

“Kupatana community,
One day for unity.
Gather together in peace,
Our Kupatana community.”

The choir was met by rousing cheers as they finished the song and stepped off the elevated stone slab. As they rejoined the animals gathered around Mizimu Grove,  Zazu, their conductor, lit from where he was perched and swooped around the lions stepping to the front of the stage. Simba took a moment to admire the surrounding baobab trees as Zazu circled over the crowd in a wide arc.

The hornbill landed on his shoulder, and Simba flashed his majordomo a smile before turning his gaze to the throng of animals before him. “Hujambo, everyone,” the king greeted warmly. “We’ve had an eventful year, haven’t we?”

“That’s an understatement and a half,” remarked Nala from beside him, eliciting a few chuckles from the crowd.

Simba couldn’t help chuckle as well. “It’s good to see new faces among the familiar ones. Some of our friends have travelled a long way to be with us today.” He gave a respectful bow of the head to Dhahabu, standing at the forefront of her herd. “We are honoured to be joined by Queen Dhahabu of the Back Lands.”

The animals cheered for the golden zebra, who beamed graciously and bowed to Simba in return.

“We would also like to extend our gratitude to Ma Tembo and her herd for their diligent work in restoring Mizimu Grove,” said Nala. “Thanks to their perseverance, this place has been reborn from the fire that ravaged it more than a year ago.”

Ma Tembo and her elephants lowered their heads modestly as the animals broke into more cheers.

Simba waited for the clamour to subside. “Many of you have been curious about the Pride Lands’ recent developments these past few moons, especially those of you living on the fringes of our borders. I’m sure some of this must seem... strange.”

“If you’re referring to the hyenas, then yes,” declared Swala, a gazelle leader. Her tone was level but noticeably sharp. “First Zira’s lions and now this? Do you mean to invite all of the Outlands into our home?” A ripple of murmurs passed through the animals, many of whom stared at the small gathering of hyenas off to one side.

Zazu glared sternly at Swala. “That shall be discussed in the upcoming summit, and not a moment bef—”

Simba held up a paw, noticing the way the hyenas looked nervously to their matriarch, Madoa; Jasiri, however, appeared entirely unfazed. The king gave Zazu an imploring look, and the hornbill promptly hopped off his shoulder. Clearing his throat, Simba proceeded to elaborate. “We invited Madoa and her clan here as trusted allies. And Jasiri, who oversees all the animals of the Outlands, is a close friend of Kion’s.”

“Not many Outlanders accepted our invitation,” added Nala, “but in light of our peace agreement, we hope to see more in attendance next Kupatana.”

“Where is Kion anyway?” asked Mjomba, an aardwolf leader. “No one’s seen him or his Lion Guard in ages.”

Simba faltered. More murmurs bubbled forth, and many of the animals looking his way had now noticed Kion’s absence. His eye caught Nala’s, and without hesitation she stepped forward to speak in his stead. “Kion and his friends left the Pride Lands on a... personal journey. He has found his calling at a faraway place called the Tree of Life, where he now rules alongside its queen.”

The few animals who were present at Kion’s coronation did not look surprised, but the rest were visibly taken aback upon hearing the news. Nala gave Simba a wistful smile, which he found he couldn’t quite return.

Masikio, a brown hare, hopped into view from within the crowd. “So we don’t have a Lion Guard protecting us anymore?”

Simba shook himself out of his reverie as he found his voice again. “Yes, we do. Some of you have met them already, but for those who haven’t, it is my honour to introduce to you the Lion Guard.”

•••

To Vitani’s surprise, she recognized a fair number of animals reacting favourably as she stepped forward with the Lion Guard to stand beside the royal family; the rest, however, had fallen into an unnatural hush. She spotted more than a few looks of wariness and even fear among the crowd.

“As many of you are aware, the union of Princess Kiara and Prince Kovu has made our pride whole again. And when my daughter called to end the conflict that divided us so long ago, Vitani was the first to mend the rift between us.”

“How do we know she can be trusted with the Roar of the Elders?” challenged Tumbili, the aging colobus leader. The other animals murmured once more, many in agreement.

The Lion Guard were whispering among themselves as well. “Quiet,” Vitani hissed at them.

“Before returning to the Tree of Life, Kion wanted to ensure that Vitani could put the needs of the Pride Lands before her own,” said Nala. “She challenged him to a Mashindano without the Roar, boldly declaring that she didn’t need it to lead the Lion Guard.”

From amidst the crocodiles, a rumbling chuckle was heard from Makuu. “Now that was something to witness,” he drawled, looking Vitani straight in the eye. “You’ve got backbone, I’ll give you that.”

The other animals looked taken aback by Makuu’s endorsement. Even Simba seemed surprised as he addressed the crowd once more. “For six moons our Lion Guard has performed their duties vigilantly and tirelessly. It is a testament to their devotion that many of you have not even been aware of their presence. If anyone is a worthy successor to my son, I believe it is indeed Vitani.”

The statement was absolutely astonishing to Vitani, who had not expected this when she had been asked to attend the celebration. Then Simba turned to face her and her team.

“Kion trusts you to protect the Pride Lands, Lion Guard,” the king proclaimed. “And so do I.”

If Vitani was supposed to answer, she was spared from having to do so as the baobab trees began shedding their flowers. Many newcomers were entranced at the sight of the shimmering leaves gently drifting down over them.

“Happy Kupatana to you all,” Nala announced exultantly. “Please enjoy the festivities, everyone.”

As the animals broke off into smaller groups to mingle, Vitani noticed Kiara leading Kovu off the stage and made to follow them. “Stay close,” she muttered to her team.

“Lion Guard, a moment?” Simba called. Seeing Vitani’s hesitation, Kovu gave her an encouraging nod.

“It’s alright, Vitani,” Kiara assured her. “I’m just going to introduce Kovu to some people.”

Vitani gave the more suspicious-looking guests the once-over. “At least take Tazama with you.”

“We’ll be fine, sis,” insisted Kovu. “Go have some fun.”

“‘Fun’,” Vitani muttered, watching as her brother hopped off the stone slab with Kiara. She scrutinized the nearby animals again before trotting after the rest of her team.

The Lion Guard accompanied Simba to the secluded end of Mizimu Grove, away from the hubbub and the main cluster of baobabs. The king waited for Vitani to join them before speaking. “Takes some getting used to, doesn’t it? Seeing all the animals getting along like this.”

Vitani scoffed. “Strange doesn’t begin to describe it. I saw a few of them at each others’ throats just yesterday.”

“I can believe it. But we put that all aside on Kupatana. It’s why carnivores have been forbidden from hunting these last few days. I hope you aren’t hungry, the fast ends at sunrise...”

“It’s fine,” said Kasi tersely. “We’ve gone longer without food before.”

Vitani suppressed a smirk upon seeing Simba wince. “Yeah, I guess I knew that,” he mumbled, chastened. He turned back toward the heart of the grove. “Some of them will have misgivings at first. Don’t take it personally.”

“Couldn’t care less,” grunted Imara. “We’re here to do our jobs, not make friends.”

“I’m sure they’ll come around once they know you better. Which is why you’re all relieved of duty tonight.”

“I would advise against that,” Vitani said. “With all due respect, everyone knows who we are now. We don’t get the luxury of making mistakes.”

“I’m not asking you to let your guard down,” Simba clarified. “In fact, the five of you could keep a better eye on things if you mingle.”

She mulled this over for a moment. “Okay. If those are your orders.”

“You don’t have to take orders from me tonight,” he insisted with a hint of forced patience. “It’s your first Kupatana.”

“Second for me,” recalled Shabaha. “The first one I attended was when Mufasa...” She trailed off when she noticed Simba and her teammates staring at her, taken aback by all the sudden attention. “...when he brought you around to meet everyone. You probably don’t remember, we were both cubs at the time. But all the others would talk about was him and Sarabi — how different they were from his parents. You were the envy of every animal there... not because you were royalty, but because you three were the real deal. A family.”

Simba’s eyes shifted to Sarabi, who was having a lively conversation with the elephants not far from them. “I forget that not everyone I banished was born after my father’s death.” He sighed heavily and guilt entered his demeanour. “Our history has been an uneasy one, Lion Guard, but I meant what I said. Kion was right to put his faith in you.”

“You put your faith in us, even before he did,” Tazama said. “Why?”

“Because I saw you for who you really were, the night you turned your backs on Zira.” the king responded plainly, “You aren’t afraid to stand up to anyone when you see they’re wrong — Zira, Kion, even me — and that’s what I’m counting on.”

“Simba?” Nala popped out from between the trees, shaking off some baobab flowers that had landed on her pelt. “There’s a certain something Jasiri wants to discuss with us.”

“The Outlands restoration project,” Simba realized. “It’s nearly ready.”

Nala grinned. “Sure is. Zazu’s giving her the rundown on resources right now.”

“I’ll be right there,” he promised. Turning back to the Lion Guard, he implored, “Go on and enjoy yourselves, all of you. Please.”

As Simba hurried off with Nala, silence fell between Vitani and her team. She saw the others’ blank stares and shrugged. “You heard the king, Lion Guard. Talk to some strangers. We’ll reconvene at the end of the night.”

Kasi nudged Imara playfully. “Let’s go, Imara. Maybe you can find a hippo to lose a rock-pushing contest to. You know, once the sun goes down.”

“Ha ha,” grunted Imara, unfazed. “Like you’re one to talk.”

One by one, the Lion Guard split off in separate directions. Not particularly eager to engage with the rowdier animals, Vitani scanned the guests from a distance, looking for someone she wouldn’t have to make small talk with. She spotted a young dark-maned lion standing by himself away from the crowds. Wait, that one looks familiar. He doesn’t talk much, I don’t think.

She barely took two steps in his direction, however, when she was suddenly obstructed by something orange, and found herself staring down a pair of electric blue eyes that were identical to her own. “Tani! I knew you’d come!” The straw satchel slung around the lioness bounced up and down as she practically bobbed with excitement.

“Tamika, hey.” Vitani relaxed a little upon recognizing her. “Yeah, Simba’s given us the night off.”

Tamika gave a tinkering laugh. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

“It wasn’t up for discussion.”

“Of course not. No one here’s interested in assassinating your brother if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You know that for sure?” Vitani asked darkly.

“I know everyone here. Some of them are on the nervous side, but they’re harmless really.” Tamika paused as something occurred to her. “First Kupatana for you, right? How about I show you around?”

“I—actually, yeah, that sounds great.”

Tamika’s face broke into that smile Vitani knew so well, the one that was just a little too big for her face. Vitani fell into step with her, thankful that the orange-furred lioness was sociable enough for them both.

“I thought your mother didn’t want you talking to me,” recalled Vitani.

Tamika rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Yes, well, one of these days she might notice I’m an adult. Hey, try the baobab flowers. They're quite sweet.”

Vitani snatched one of the baobab leaves out of the air and chewed on it. The texture was delicate and surprisingly pleasant.

Tamika picked a few leaves off the ground and stuffed them into her satchel. “Did you know Kion let a bunch of jackals into the Pride Lands last Kupatana? I like jackals, but those ones were bad news.”

“I think I know who you’re talking about,” muttered Vitani, remembering her own troubles with Reirei’s pack in the Outlands. “Probably best that they’re not here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Simba extended them an invitation this year,” Tamika noted. “He was not happy about them trying to eat the other animals. Kion took full responsibility, of course.”

Vitani smirked as she pictured Kion scrambling to fix the mess he made. “Wish I got to witness that particular disaster.”

“He meant well, and no one was badly hurt. That’s the important part.”

“There will always be people who’d take his kindness for weakness. I’m not sure he’s gotten that into his head.”

“Hmm. I find some people are worth taking a leap of faith on.” Tamika abruptly stopped in her tracks. Following her gaze, Vitani could see Tamika’s mother Tama straight ahead, though her back was turned to them at the moment. Vitani made a startled noise as Tamika hastily steered her into the nearest crowd.

As the two of them waded through the bustling animals, Vitani raised an eyebrow. “And I thought I had parental issues.”

“Oh, it’s not like that, Tani,” insisted Tamika bashfully. “You and I don’t get to talk enough, and... this is nice, right? You’re having a good time?”

“Yeah, I actually am.” Vitani was a little surprised to discover she meant it. “But it’s better we don’t cause a scene — even Simba’s a bit scared of your mother.”

The orange-furred lioness snorted. “Simba’s a big softie. And not even my mom gets a say if I want to spend Kupatana with my sister.”

“Half-sister, as she never gets tired of pointing out,” reminded Vitani. “Have you thought about bringing this up with her?”

“Thought about, yes,” Tamika sighed. “I'd hate to give her a hard time when I know why she’s like this. And it’d be simpler if she was the only one... but she isn’t.”

“I noticed,” Vitani conceded. “I don’t want to get you in trouble though.”

Tamika’s troubled expression reshaped itself to one of mock skepticism. “You’re afraid of getting me in trouble now? Who are you and what have you done with the real Vitani?”

Vitani actually laughed. Tamika’s mouth twitched into an irrepressible smile, and it was then that Vitani realized just how much she had missed this. “I’ve been doing my best to stick to the rules ever since we rejoined the pride,” she said. “Don’t want to mess up a good thing, right?”

“Right.” Tamika peeked out of the crowd, checking to see if they were still in Tama’s line of sight. “So you up to anything tomorrow?”

Confirming that they were clear, Vitani stepped out into the open. “Patrolling, keeping an ear out for trouble. The usual.”

“And if there isn’t any?” probed Tamika as she squeezed her way out from between the animals. The two of them continued their walk around Mizimu Grove.

“Then I’ll be in the Lair with the Lion Guard, for when we’re needed.”

“When, or if?”

Vitani scowled. “‘If’ is part of the job, Tamika.”

“I know, it’s just...” Tamika sighed. “How long are you going to sit in that cave, Tani? You take your duty as seriously as Kion does, but he still found time for himself.”

“I don’t have anything else.” Vitani winced a little as she said the words, but immediately shook it off. “This is what I’m good at.”

“But it’s not the only thing you’re good at,” the other lioness reasoned. “Kiara’s leading a hunt tomorrow afternoon — you and the Guard could join us after your patrol.”

Vitani snorted disdainfully. “With those pampered snobs Tiifu and Zuri? No thanks.”

“At least talk it over with the Guard,” insisted Tamika. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but the offer stands. Besides,” she added with a grin, “you and your team could show Tiifu and Zuri how it’s done.”

Vitani couldn’t help but return the grin. She doesn’t give up, does she? Not even on me.

“Think about it, alright?” the orange-furred lioness pressed.

“Alright, Mika.”

A wistful expression crossed her sister’s face. It was then that Vitani realized she hadn’t called her “Mika” since they were cubs.

“We’ve lost so much time we can’t get back,” Tamika said somberly. “I just don’t want you to miss out now that you’re home.”

I’ve lost a lot more than that, Vitani reflected. She dispelled the thought, knowing that Tamika would never fully understand the horrors she had seen for most of her life. It’s probably better that way. Being cast out, growing up in the Outlands... No one should know what that’s like — what it does to someone.

“Yeah,” she murmured, more to herself than anything. “Home.”

•••

Kopa slumped against the side of the boulder, panting from exertion but satisfied with their success. Tumaini was similarly winded, but he pushed himself upright nonetheless as the chameleons scuttled over to them.

“I am so, so sorry, guys,” moaned the black-maned lion. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No,” replied Ficha. “Some of my kids are still a bit rattled, but we got out of the way in time.” The other chameleons scuttled under the opening between the rock and the ground, and Kopa sat up to give them more space.

“Thank goodness.” Tumaini exhaled in relief. “I’m such an idiot. Can I make it up to you? How about you all join us in the pool I’m making?”

The chameleons instantly turned pale. Ficha scowled. “One day you’re gonna kill us completely by accident, Tumaini, and that terrifies me. No hard feelings about the rock, alright? Now get outta here.”

Tumaini winced and opened his mouth, presumably to apologize yet again. But Kopa, tired of baking under the sun, got up and said, “Come on, let’s finish that pool before it gets too hot to work.”

As he padded over to the edge of the hill, he saw his friend give the chameleons a sheepish smile before hurrying to join him. The two of them dashed together into the woods below.

“Thanks for the help,” said Tumaini. They slowed their pace as the ground levelled out beneath their paws.

“Of course,” Kopa replied. “No harm no foul, right?”

Tumaini shuddered. “Could have been a different story.”

“Stop,” grunted Kopa irritably. “Why do you have to do that?”

“What?”

“You always beat yourself up over what could have happened.”

Tumaini frowned. “No, I don’t.”

“You’re right,” Kopa deadpanned. “You only consider the worst-case scenarios.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ve seen a few worst-case scenarios,” muttered the older lion.

The two of them trotted along in silence. Kopa gave his friend a prompting look. “You’re not going to elaborate on that?”

“Nope,” Tumaini replied shortly.

Kopa sighed but said nothing. They were nearing the den now, and to his surprise, the trench was already finished, along with extra passages to help mitigate the flow. A steady stream of water was slowly running into the mouth of the den, the process supervised by a dozen rabbits.

The alpha, Sungura, peered up upon noticing the two lions’ approach. “Good afternoon, lads. We heard about the fuss and came to see what you’ve been up to all morning. Hope you don’t mind but we thought we’d lend a paw.”

Tumaini laughed in relief as he took in the rabbits’ handiwork. “Mind? You guys are the best! I thought I’d have to dam half the river on my own.”

“You mean the whole rock thing could’ve been completely avoided?” huffed Kopa indignantly.

“Shhh,” said Tumaini. “No harm no foul, remember?”

The rabbits soon filled the trench back up with dirt, effectively keeping the water from trickling out of the den. Kopa and Tumaini clambered inside with them, splashing water on one another as they hopped into the pool with wild abandon.

Sauti, Sungura’s mate, eased herself into the refreshingly cool water with a content sigh. “Brilliant idea, you two. The blasted heat is inescapable, and my kits didn’t want to coop up in the burrows all day.”

Kopa smirked. “It was all Tumaini. He has a way of making our lives more exciting than we’d like.”

Tumaini splashed a pawful of water at him. “Like you haven’t taken years off my life since I found you.” Turning to Sauti and Sungura, he asked, “How do you take care of all these kits? I can barely put up with having one mouth to feed besides my own.”

“That’s why you find someone to suffer with you, my friend,” Sungura replied with a wink. “Your fur won’t go grey nearly as fast.”

Kopa, who had stuck his head under the water, instantly resurfaced when he realized something. Dripping wet with his fur plastered to his body, he shook his mane away from his mouth and said gravely, “Tumaini, this is where we normally sleep.”

Sauti and Sungura shared a quiet chuckle as Tumaini’s eyes turned down to the pool they had worked so hard to make. He said nothing for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, looks like we’re sleeping outside tonight.”

•••

Tumaini laid cozily by the riverbank, watching the water slowly drain from the den. The sun had gone down a while ago, and the rabbits went home once the evening chill set in, leaving only the crickets to keep the two lions company.

Kopa was sprawled on the other side of the reopened trench, shivering a little with his fur still damp. The younger lion got up for the umpteenth time and took a few steps away, trying in vain to shake himself dry yet again. He plopped himself back down and scowled upon catching Tumaini’s look. “Don’t say it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Tumaini replied nonchalantly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking.

“Well, you’re definitely thinking it.”

“No, you’re definitely thinking it.”

“‘You should’ve gotten out of the water when I told you to, then you wouldn’t be cold right now,’” mimicked Kopa, in what Tumaini assumed was an impression of him. “Yeah, okay, but when are we ever gonna do this again?”

This time Tumaini did grin. “Hey, I don’t have any regrets. But I get the feeling you do.”

“Whatever, I can put up for a little while,” the brown-maned lion muttered. “The present is always the past or something anyway.”

“What?” laughed Tumaini.

“Nothing, just some meditation philosophy Tanzu said this morning.” Kopa peered at him thoughtfully. “You could join us, you know.”

The smile quickly slipped from Tumaini’s face. “No thanks. I’m already in my own head too much as it is.”

“Let me guess, your family?”

“You even gotta ask?”

“No, I know that’s what you’re talking about,” Kopa sighed. “Tanzu’s not gonna make you share something you don’t want to.”

“I know. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Okay.” Kopa turned his gaze forward, staring directly at the ever-present river before them. “You remember when I was afraid of the Zuberi?”

As relieved as Tumaini was that his friend didn’t press the issue, he wasn’t sure this was what he wanted to talk about either. “How could I forget? The sound of the current used to frighten you, even from far away. You had it the worst during thunderstorms.”

“I still don’t like them,” Kopa admitted, shuddering a little.

Despite his reservations, Tumaini’s eyes drifted to the faded scars on Kopa’s torso and abdomen. The images of the battered, bloodied cub Tanzu brought to him had been burned into Tumaini’s mind that day — along with the gruesome lengths the two of them had gone to in order to save Kopa’s life.

“I can’t remember when I stopped being afraid of the Zuberi,” murmured Kopa absently. “Or when I stopped counting the days I’ve been here.”

“I didn’t know you did to begin with,” Tumaini said.

“At first I thought someone would find me and bring me back,” the younger lion recalled. “Eventually it was to remind myself that I was someone else before this. That the life I had was real, and it didn’t just... exist in my dreams.”

Tumaini bit his lip, choosing his words very carefully. “The... heart wants what it wants, I guess. Sounds to me like yours wants to forget.”

Kopa frowned. “I’m not so sure. I saw something this morning.”

“You saw something?” Tumaini immediately sat upright. “Like what, like a memory?”

“Maybe. There was a savanna, and some big shape in the distance, and...” Kopa hesitated. “My parents. I think.”

“Are you sure?” asked Tumaini, his pulse speeding up a little.

“Not at all,” the brown-maned lion admitted. “But I had this feeling when I saw them. It felt like... home.”

“And the lioness with the red eyes?”

“I saw her too, but not in the same memory.” Kopa’s brow knitted in frustration. “I wish I could figure it out. What did she want? Why did she come after me?”

“Cruelty comes natural for some people,” muttered Tumaini. “Better not to dig into that rabbit hole.”

Kopa rolled onto his front with a groan. “I just want to know, even if it’s something horrible. It’s not like she can hurt me anymore.”

“There are worse kinds of pain than the ones you remember, kid,” Tumaini told him, turning on his other side with his back to the trench. “Now get some sleep, it’s your turn to hunt tomorrow.”

Tumaini listened to the crickets in silence as Kopa slowly drifted off to sleep, dwelling on the day the younger lion had ended up in his care. I hid in this forest because I wanted to be alone. I thought that was all I had to look forward to for the rest of my life... and then the kid changed everything. He had taken it for granted that Kopa would never remember his past, and with no small amount of misgiving, Tumaini now realized that the thought absolutely terrified him.

What do I do, now that he is remembering? What will I do if he remembers everything?

Chapter Text

With all this time wasted, and all this time gone,
You are still waiting on me.
But if I could choose, I would choose not to feel
Cause I am hardly ever happy,
I am hardly ever happy.
—Of Monsters and Men, “Phantom”

Upon cresting a gently sloping hillock, Vitani was greeted by the sight of the East African mountains looming in the distance. She took a moment to enjoy the shade provided by the acacia trees and let her gaze wander the grassy expanse before her. Mbali Fields sat upon the fringe of the Pride Lands, but the Lion Guard’s patrol had ended not far from its border. And when Shabaha suggested taking up Tamika’s offer to join the hunt, there were no objections from the others.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the Lion Guard caught up, prompting Vitani to step back into the heat with just a smidge of reluctance. Half a year in the Pride Lands and I’ve already become spoiled. Still, I don’t think we’ll take shade or clean water for granted ever again.

“We’re near the edge of the border,” remarked Imara. “It’s going to be a long haul back to Pride Rock.”

Kasi grinned. “What, don’t think you can lug an entire zebra across the Serengeti?”

The muscular lioness rolled her eyes. “I can,” she grunted. “It’s the rest of you I’m not sure about.”

“Thanks for volunteering, Imara,” said Vitani without turning or slowing down.

The others snickered at the nonplussed Imara, who huffed as she kept pace with her team leader. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

Vitani held a straight face and said nothing. She could see Kiara’s team gathered atop a barren crag up ahead; the princess was gazing out into the mountains with her back to the others. Tamika beamed upon seeing the Lion Guard approach.

Conversely, Tiifu and Zuri cast baleful looks their way. “These are the ‘friends’ you invited, doc?” Zuri muttered.

“Mm-hmm,” affirmed Tamika cheerfully.

“I was hoping you meant that cute lion with the black mane,” Tiifu sighed. “The really shy one who only sees you in private.”

Tamika rolled her eyes. “It’s not what you think, Tiifu. I give him something for his headaches during the wet season, that’s all.”

Kiara turned about, looking a little preoccupied even as she noticed the conversation. “Afternoon, Lion Guard,” she said brightly. “I hope you aren’t too tired.”

Vitani noticed her team straightening ever so slightly, and held herself a little more upright as well. “It’s been a slow day. A bit of excitement would be a nice change of pace.”

“So if you guys are here, then who’s on patrol now?” asked Zuri suspiciously.

“Zazu,” said Tamika.

Zuri raised an eyebrow. “Just Zazu?”

“He’s got backup,” Tamika assured her. “I asked Hadithi to accom—”

“You know Hadithi the Hero?” Tiifu gasped.

“I know everyone. And he owed me a favour after his last misadventure.”

“Don’t worry, I made sure we were covered for today,” Kiara told her friends.

“That’s because you think of everything, Kiara,” gushed Tiifu. Behind her, Kasi was silently mime-vomiting.

“Yeah, it’s not you we don’t trust with the safety of the Pride Lands,” Zuri chimed in.

Vitani narrowed her eyes. Kiara cleared her throat, having noticed the tension in the air. “Why don’t we get started? Everyone must be starving after the fast.”

“As if any of you know the first thing about starving,” growled Tazama. Vitani shot her a warning look but the damage was done.

“And what do you know about hunting?” Zuri retorted. “Aside from trespassing through our borders for food?”

“Zuri, don’t,” Kiara pleaded. Kasi raised her hackles at the accusation, and Imara immediately held a paw in front of her though she too was fuming.

Tazama bared her teeth. “We were dying, you ignorant—”

“Your borders?” Shabaha laughed harshly, though to Vitani it sounded more like a snarl. “We were born in these Pride Lands, same as you. And speaking only for myself, I joined the others in exile because I couldn’t stand by a ruler who could send cubs into the Outlands.” She leaned in closer, prompting Tiifu and Zuri to shirk back involuntarily though they did not dare look away. “It wasn’t even close to the hardest decision I’ve lived with. But make no mistake, those were the roughest years of my life. Prey was hard to come by, tough too. They’re far more violent than the ones in the Pride Lands, so hesitating was out of the question — you hesitate, your pride starves for another day.”

Tiifu’s eyes widened. “That sounds horrible,” she said in a hushed voice.

“On that we can agree.” Shabaha straightened, finally taking her eyes off of the two of them. “So maybe you and your friend should be glad you’ve never lived it.”

“I know I am,” Zuri muttered, unrepentant.

“Come on, Zuri, this could be a good thing,” implored Tiifu. “They can learn how to be civilized again.”

This time Vitani did react. “‘Civilized’?” she hissed.

“Okay, I have an idea,” interjected Kiara, hastily stepping between her friends and the Lion Guard. “We’re going to split into teams and see who catches the biggest zebra in Muhimu’s herd.”

“A competition? Bring it on!” Kasi jeered, still glaring at Tiifu and Zuri.

The princess looked taken aback. “It doesn’t need to be a competition.”

“It’s always a competition,” groaned Tamika in resignation.

“We’re in,” asserted Vitani. “Four on four, two teams each. Tazama can be the referee.”

Kiara sighed. “Alright. Choose your partners, everyone, and remember we don’t go after the young or pregnant ones.”

“She’s talking to you, just so you know,” Zuri said pointedly to the Lion Guard.

“That’s enough, Zuri,” Kiara growled. “Go scout the herd with Tiifu.”

Vitani was surprised at the princess’ commanding tone. Maybe she won’t be a total pushover after all. Sure enough, Tiifu and Zuri headed off without making a fuss. Tamika let out a sigh of relief.

Once her friends were out of earshot, Kiara ruefully turned her attention to the Lion Guard. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to offend.”

Tazama relented, her previous animosity all but evaporated. “You’re one of the good ones, Kiara. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” Her sharp aquamarine eyes lingered on Tiifu and Zuri’s retreating forms. “Your friends, though...”

“Give them some time,” encouraged Tamika. “This ‘reunifying the pride’ thing has been an adjustment for everyone.”

Vitani snorted. “Whatever. I wasn’t expecting a little Kupatana spirit to change anything.” She tapped Shabaha lightly on the shoulder, and the older lioness followed her the other way. “Good hunting, you two.”

“Likewise,” Kiara responded. “Give Tamika a shout if anyone gets hurt.”

A sizable gathering of zebras were grazing in the open field not too far off. As Tazama trekked off to find an observation point, Vitani slid down the side of the crags with the rest of her team. She wordlessly signalled for Kasi and Imara to get into position; the two of them quietly prowled away into the hillocks while Vitani and Shabaha circled around to the other side of the rocks, careful to remain out of the zebras’ line of sight.

“You’re not gonna say ‘I told you so’?” asked Shabaha.

Vitani shrugged. “I didn’t try to talk us out of coming.”

“I’m starting to wish you did,” the older lioness grumbled. “Six months in service to the Pride Lands and they’re still suspicious of us.”

“Wouldn’t you be, after everything we’ve done?” reasoned Vitani. “After Zira?”

Shabaha scowled. “I know how it must have looked when I stood by her. I was part of Scar’s inner circle, after all.”

“So was Fasiki. But you two made very different choices when Scar confessed to murdering Mufasa.”

“I was still complicit — protecting Scar, driving the Keepers from the Outlands, feeding my boy while the other cubs were starving... I have a lot to atone for.” Weariness entered Shabaha’s shoulders. “But that’s for me to live with, not you or the others.”

“You’re not the only one dragging down the team’s reputation, if it makes you feel any better,” Vitani informed her. “I came this close to killing Simba in the same gorge where his father died, so I definitely know why the Pridelanders give me the side-eye.”

Shabaha snickered. “Aren’t we a pair? And still, Simba vouched for us yesterday.”

“I think he’s working through a few regrets himself,” Vitani said reflectively, though she too had her reservations. There were too many things Zira hadn’t answered for, too many questions that would likely remain unanswered. “Do you think he was right about my m—about Zira?”

“I doubt we’ll ever know. That kid, what was his name—”

“Kopa.”

“Yeah, that was it. I was with the search party in the middle of that rainstorm, and we never found so much as a trace of him.”

“But do you believe she killed him?” pressed Vitani.

Shabaha sighed. “It’d be easy to say yes. Even when she was exiled, I wasn’t sure if she was right. I was only certain Simba was wrong.”

Vitani thought about this for a moment. “And what if she did do it?”

“Then she deserved the Outlands. But you and your brothers never did. I still stand by that.”

“Bila hofu?”

The older lioness smiled, her eyes renewed with their usual twinkle. “Exactly. Bila hofu.”

Up near the zebras’ position, Vitani could see Imara signalling to them from behind the adjacent hillocks. Careful not to rustle the tussocks around them, Vitani silently and methodically crept to the opposite side of the crags, slinking into its shadow to maintain a low profile. “Looks like they’re in position. We’ll wait for Kasi to make the first move.”

As if summoned by her words, Kasi bound out in a brown-tan blur. The zebras instinctively dispersed from where they grazed, kicking up a cloud of dust in the midst of the open field. Vitani’s gaze scoured the approaching herd before settling on a portly middle-aged male in the middle of the formation. “That one. We need to split the herd.”

“On it,” said Shabaha curtly. She clambered atop the rocks and into view of the zebras, who haphazardly veered to change course upon catching sight of her, with Kasi still nipping at their heels. Shabaha unflinchingly leaped into the middle of the herd, causing them to scatter and lose what little coordination they had left.

Vitani bound straight for the zebras, ducking between the frenzy of clopping hooves without taking her eyes off her target. Imara quickly closed in from the other side, leaving the zebra no choice but to speed up. Out of the commotion leapt Kasi, nimbly obstructing him from going any further while the rest of the herd raced away.

The zebra skidded to a halt, fraught eyes darting about in a futile search of escape. He trembled as the four lionesses closed in from all sides. “W-will it hurt?”

“Only if you struggle,” said Vitani calmly.

Trembling, the zebra closed his eyes and took a shaking breath. “Okay. I... I’m ready.”

Vitani moved in, ready to close her jaws around his neck — and stopped mid-step when a wave of disorientation washed over her. She fought to steady her shaking paws, overwhelmed by a sudden sensation of vertigo as if the ground was shifting beneath her. Suddenly a spike of adrenaline seized her body, setting her heart pounding in an instant.

Kasi was shaking, dilated eyes darting to and fro at everything and nothing in particular. Imara sank to the ground with a groan, while Shabaha rubbed the sides of her head with her front paws, teeth gritted.

A low, dull rumble echoed from deep under the field. “Wha... what’s happening?” the zebra stammered.

“Earthquake,” gasped Shabaha, barely able to utter the word. “It’s... coming this way...”

Vitani managed to hold back a wave of nausea as she righted herself. She stumbled to one side to let the zebra pass. “Get back to your herd. Go.”

He immediately galloped off, needing no further invitation. “Panic and run!”

“Shake it off, Lion Guard,” barked Vitani, raising her voice as the tremors began in earnest. “We’re going to find the others.” She led her team into a slow sprint, speeding up gradually to allow everyone time to recover their wits.

Mbali Fields was a mess of dust clouds and herd animals running every which way; scanning the convulsing landscape, Vitani spotted Tazama above the pandemonium, signalling them to join her atop the hills. She also noticed Shabaha eyeing the herds and gave her a nudge. “Leave them for now.”

The four of them stumbled as an ominous splitting crack was heard from underground. Vitani led the others around the hysterical blend of herds, slowing down only to weave over or around fallen trees in their path. The ground could be heard breaking open from behind them, staggering Kasi and Imara but barely slowing them down. As they rushed up the hill where Tazama stood, Vitani couldn’t help but feel as if it was no sturdier than the field below.

“We have a situation,” said Tazama.

“I noticed,” Vitani responded sarcastically.

“No, I mean that.” The lookout jerked her head toward a nearby cluster of acacia trees.

Following her gaze, Vitani spotted a petrified Tiifu clinging to one of the acacia trees’ limbs. At the base of the trunk stood Zuri, who looked like she was trying to coax her down. “Great,” muttered Vitani. “Where’s the princess?”

Tazama frowned. “She and the doc were going that way,” she recalled, honing her gaze back on the stampede, “but I lost sight of them when the earthquake started.”

“They could be on the other side of all that,” Shabaha pointed out.

“If they’re lucky. If they’re not...” Tazama craned her neck forward, peering intently into the dust.

“You and Shabaha keep looking,” ordered Vitani. “Kasi, Imara, with me.”

The ground was now ripping itself apart more vigorously, and Vitani made sure to keep a sharp eye out for paw-sized sinkholes; having suffered her fair share of sprains in the Outlands, she knew that a debilitating injury now could be catastrophic — and cost potentially more lives than just her own. She hopped between the jumbled patches of grass with Kasi and Imara close behind, and could now make out some of Tiifu and Zuri’s words over the din.

“Tiifu!” hollered Zuri. “Get down, we have to go!”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Tiifu exclaimed shrilly. “It’s safer up here!”

“No it isn’t! Now come on!”

“You can’t make me!”

Vitani rolled her eyes. “Oh, for the love of—”

The tree cracked without warning, tearing diagonally through the middle of the trunk. Tiifu screamed as the ground opened up beneath the swaying acacia, its roots clinging to the rapidly crumbling dirt.

“Tiifu!” cried Zuri. Vitani pushed herself to top speed, even though she could already tell she would not reach the tree in time.

Kasi zoomed past in the blink of an eye, making a sharp beeline for Tiifu. “Haraka haraka!” She hopped onto Zuri’s back, pressing the other lioness face-first into the dirt while she propelled herself up onto the acacia. She slammed straight into Tiifu, sending her rolling into the grass on the other side. But the added weight caused the trunk to tip, and Kasi lost her balance before rolling into a clutter of branches.

Vitani made it to the chasm right as the acacia keeled over in earnest, pawing at the leaves in a futile effort to grab hold. Imara snapped her jaws around one of the limbs, furiously digging her paws into the dirt as the tree threatened to pull her down with it. Seeing Kasi struggling to untangle herself from the branches, Vitani hastily put her paws around Imara’s middle and planted her weight against the ground as hard as she could, straining with exertion.

Imara’s paws were slowly sliding toward the rift. “Get up here, Kasi!” she growled, her words slightly muffled around the tree limb.

“Vitani!” called Tazama. “I see the princess!”

Vitani turned to look over her shoulder. “Move! I’ll be right there!” Her head whirled back to front at the sound of a splitting crack, just in time to see the tree limb splinter between Imara’s teeth. “Ka—!” She was flung backward into the dirt, her cry cut short as Imara landed across her midsection.

The acacia’s long branches scraped against the sides of the rift before the ground swallowed it up, ripping loose chunks of earth that clattered down with it. And in that moment, Vitani did not know what to do.

Pull yourself together. There are others counting on you. As Imara got up, Vitani forced herself to tear her gaze away from the abyss and stood as well, turning her attention back to the Kiara’s friends.

Zuri was helping a dazed Tiifu to her paws, who winced as she tried to take a step. “I think it’s sprained,” she moaned, her voice tight with pain. “No way I’m walking like this.”

“Imara, get her out of here,” said Vitani briskly. “Come on, Zuri.”

Zuri, who was spitting out dirt and trying to rub her face clean, looked up in bemusement. “M-me?”

“Yes, you,” Vitani snapped. “Hurry up.”

Without waiting for a response, she sprinted in Tazama’s direction, noting that the ground was becoming harder to navigate by the moment. Out in the middle of the field, Shabaha was trying to wrestle her way through the stampede to no avail.

“Shabaha, stop,” shouted Tazama. “You’ll be trampled before you get through all that.”

“Then think of something fast,” Shabaha grunted, undeterred. “They could open a fissure running around like this.”

“Calm down, everyone!” Vitani barked. “You’re making it worse!”

The animals continued to panic — and run, either unable or unwilling to listen.

“Already tried that,” Tazama informed her. “We gotta get their attention with something louder.”

“What about the Roar?” blurted Zuri.

Vitani and her teammates turned to stare at her in surprise.

“I don’t mean use it on them,” Zuri clarified. “But that’s something louder, right?”

Shabaha did not look so sure about this. “It’s risky, especially during an earthquake.”

“I don’t have any better ideas,” conceded Vitani. “Get behind me!” The others hurriedly did so as she planted her paws into the ground. A few of the animals began to slow down as they took notice of the dark clouds rapidly forming over them.

The Roar of the Elders cut through the earthquake with a deafening boom, and amidst a howling wind the tremors began to settle across the ravaged fields. The herds finally slowed to a halt as the clouds slowly settled back into their natural forms.

Vitani shook the dust out of her ears and cleared her throat. “You aren’t safe here! Follow my team, they’ll get you to solid ground.”

The herds peered at one another, and then to her immense relief, began filing into relatively orderly groups. As Shabaha and Tazama rallied them away, Vitani wasted no time clambering through the disarray to reach Kiara and Tamika. They were covered in dust and looked a bit shaken, but appeared unharmed all in all.

All the same, Vitani briefly inspected them for injuries. “You two alright?”

“Yeah...” murmured Kiara, brushing some dust off herself. “Thanks, Vitani.”

To her surprise, Tamika rushed forward and pressed her face against Vitani’s neck. “I just... froze,” she whispered. “Why did I do that?”

Vitani shook her sister by the shoulders. “Hey, ask yourself later. Right now I need you with me, okay?”

Tamika reluctantly withdrew and gave a firm nod, though there was still a bottomlessness to the depths of her eyes. “Okay. Yeah, I’m okay. I’m here.”

“Good. Tiifu’s hurt, you need to find her and Imara.”

“And what are you gonna do?”

“One of my teammates fell through a hole.” Vitani turned to Kiara. “What’s under this field, princess?”

“The Nandembo Caverns,” Kiara replied. “My dad got stuck down there once.”

“The pride isn’t allowed in those caverns,” cautioned Tamika. “It’s easy to get lost in the tunnels.”

Vitani shrugged, her mind solely focused on locating Kasi — if she was even alive. “I’ll find a way out. Now you two need t—”

The ground dropped by a paw’s length just then, sending everyone stumbling or falling over with startled cries. The mismatched herds began to panic once more as entire sections of the field broke apart, sending numerous animals tumbling into the chasm amidst a barrage of dirt and stone.

“Move!” yelled Vitani. Shabaha and Tazama turned in the opposite direction, desperately looking this way and that for a means of escape.

Vitani felt the ground splitting apart before she saw it. She instinctively reached out and yanked Zuri back as an enormous fissure ripped the field open from under the herds, taking the vast majority of them in the blink of an eye; Tazama disappeared from sight, soon followed by Shabaha. Before Vitani could even react, Kiara screamed as the ground suddenly gave way beneath her paws.

“Kiara!” hollered Tamika, snapping out of her reverie. Zuri rushed forward in horror as Kiara fell into the darkness below.

Vitani waved them back, attentively scanning the fissure for every surface and angle. “I got her! Just get out of here!”

“Tani, I don’t—” her sister began.

“Go!” Vitani leaped into the abyss, zigzagging back and forth between its walls to control her downward trajectory.

She launched herself diagonally toward Kiara and caught her in one swift move, deftly flipping herself under the princess at the same time. Well, that was the easy part. Now comes the hard part... literally. With the cavern opening up around them, Vitani could see no way to slow their descent.

The wind howling in her ears was jarringly cut short, and she wheezed as every last bit of air was forced from her lungs. Vision flaring as Kiara was immediately thrown off her, Vitani winced at the sensation of rough stone floor scraping at her back and sides. Her momentum was just as quickly halted by an unyielding stone wall, and the last thing she registered was Kiara stirring feebly in her periphery before the darkness closed in.

•••

Lying prone on his front, Tumaini slowly stuck one foreleg into the rabbit hole before him. When he felt a stone nudge against his palm, he closed his paw around it before withdrawing his foreleg, careful not to collapse the tunnel in the process. Once his paw was clear of the opening, he tossed the stone onto the debris piled on his other side.

Sauti popped out from the warren, panting for breath as she took a seat beside him. “Whew! That’s all of it for now. One down, five to go.”

Tumaini made a disbelieving noise. “You have six warrens?”

Sauti chortled. “I’m a mother of thirty-four, dear Tumaini, and my siblings have even more kits than me. Where do you think I put them all?”

“Never gave it much thought, to be honest.” Tumaini peered into the rabbit hole. “Is anyone still down there?”

“Sungura got everyone out, don’t you fret. We’re good diggers, and this isn’t my first earthquake.”

“First one I’ve had since we found Kopa...”

Sauti noticed his tone. “You must be worried sick.”

“He should have been back by now,” Tumaini fretted anxiously. “It’s almost sundown, he never takes this long on a hunt.”

“I reckon the earthquake slowed things down for everyone,” she remarked. “Still, you ought to find him before it gets dark.”

“But I promised I‘d help your colony,” he protested, albeit half-heartedly.

She patted him on the foreleg. “And your help has done a lot to ease my mind. It’d be poor manners on my part not to return the courtesy.”

“Tumaini!”

Tumaini turned toward the sound of Sungura’s voice. The alpha rabbit raggedly scurried out through an unkempt clump of bushes, prompting a concerned look from Sauti. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is it one of the warrens?”

“No, it’s...” Sungura leaned in and dropped his voice to a whisper. “There’s a lion in the forest — not Kopa, this one didn’t have a mane.”

The bottom dropped out of Tumaini’s stomach. “A lioness? What was she doing?”

“Nothing. She was unconscious when I found her, but when she wakes up...”

“Show me,” said Tumaini immediately. “Sauti, can you tell Tanzu what’s going on?”

“Right away,” Sauti said promptly, already on her paws once more. She darted off into the undergrowth, and quickly zipped out of sight.

Tumaini hurried after Sungura with all haste. The two of them bolted through the disarray, with Tumaini leaping over broken trees while Sungura zipped underneath. The rabbit was keeping pace despite his shorter legs, and even had to slow down at times so Tumaini could weave between the overhanging vines and uneven terrain. The black-maned lion’s heart was racing, though not from exertion. I haven’t seen another lion besides Kopa in ages. Who could she be? What if she’s from—

Tumaini stumbled as one of his front paws nearly sank into a small sinkhole, and he reminded himself to worry about the details later. Outsiders were generally unaware of the Maelewano Forest’s no-hunting rule, and in the past he and Kopa had chased off numerous predators for refusing to abide.

They were approaching the edge of the forest now, and at last Sungura slowed to a halt. A fine evening mist had settled over the cluttered shambles of the treeline, obscuring the view of the mountain range that laid beyond. The rabbit carefully sniffed a set of tracks that unmistakably belonged to a lion. “Looks like she’s on the move. She can’t have gone far, I saw the state she was in.”

“I’ll take it from here,” Tumaini told him firmly. “Go be with your family, keep them belowground. Don’t come out until I find you.”

Sungura nodded. “Be careful, my friend.”

Once the rabbit rushed off, Tumaini followed the tracks as silently as he could, trying to get a fix on the lioness’ scent. He became aware of the unnatural hush that had fallen over the edge of the forest. The others must have noticed her and cleared out. Either that, or... I just hope I’m not too late.

Strangely enough, the tracks led to a single patch of dirt before going off every which way. Tumaini frowned, examining the pawprints for any indication of which way she had gone. He spotted a few dark patches in the fresher tracks, and strained to identify the metallic scent of blood tickling his nostrils. It smells like... lion? But—

Tumaini’s ears pricked up at the barely audible sound of breath being drawn behind him. He whirled about just in time to see a brown-furred lioness lunge toward him. He instinctively dove aside and managed to avoid the brunt of the attack, though her back paw caught him in the flank before he could regain his footing and sent him rolling onto his back.

He used the momentum to flip himself upright — and not a moment too soon, as the lioness’ paws slammed into the dirt where his head was a moment ago. Unsheathing his claws, Tumaini bound forward as she leaped at him again, grabbing hold of her shoulders to keep her claws away from his face. She raked at his mane, adamantly refusing to budge no matter how hard he tried to push her back. His claws dug into her shoulders, drawing blood, but she didn’t even react.

The lioness swiftly sank her teeth into Tumaini’s foreleg, causing him to release her with a roar of pain. Gritting his teeth, his other front paw stamped down hard on hers, and she reared back with a roar as well. She ducked the swipe he threw at her head, although one of his claws managed to nick her ear, and he could feel her struggling to free her paw from under his. Suddenly she closed in and went for his throat, and he stumbled back as her fangs found his mane.

Deliberately relinquishing her paw, Tumaini pushed forward once again and disentangled her with his bulkier weight. But she was quick to react, using his momentum to slide in under him and push against his abdomen with both hind paws. The world turned upside-down for a moment as he flipped over her head — and then he landed on his back with a winded gasp. Dazed, Tumaini barely managed to raise his front paws in time to catch her forelegs; with the lioness’ claws a hair away from his face, he noticed that the woolly fur around her paws were matted with blood. “You — shouldn’t have — come here...” he growled.

The lioness pushed even harder against him. “Like you — gave me — a choice...”

Tumaini’s grip nearly gave in surprise. “What?”

“How many — did — she send?” she demanded, still trying to drive her claws into his snout.

“‘She’?” sputtered Tumaini. “Send where — here?”

Bewilderment entered the lioness’ features as well, and she stopped struggling at last. “You... you’re not one of them, are you?” she asked cautiously.

“I don’t even know who you’re talking about, so I’m gonna say no.” Tumaini sat up, though he did not relinquish his grip. “Your turn. How many animals did you kill in this forest?”

She looked down at her bloodied paws, comprehension now dawning on her. “None. This blood is my own. I found this place by accident, I’ve been on the run the last two nights.”

Relief swept over Tumaini, and for the first time he noticed that her paw pads were scraped raw. He finally let go of her forelegs, careful not to touch her injured paws. “Running from who?”

“Never mind. I don’t have time to get int—”

A golden blur abruptly slammed into the lioness, and she gave a startled cry as she was thrown to the ground. Kopa held her down by her upper back, teeth bared in a snarl. “You want to kill my friend, then you’d better kill me first. And you’ll find I’m pretty stubborn.”

Tumaini hastily scrambled to his paws. “Kopa, stop! She’s not trying to kill me... anymore.”

Kopa blinked in confusion. “I... I heard fighting...”

“Just a misunderstanding,” Tumaini clarified. “Now let her up, it sounds like the real trouble is coming this way.”

Slowly, Kopa obliged. The lioness straightened as he stepped aside, and brushed some dirt off herself with a small wince. “Knowing who’s after me, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s true,” she said grimly. “I’m Siri, by the way. Sorry we got off on the wrong paw.”

The black-maned lion gave an unperturbed wave. “Tumaini, and you’ve already made Kopa’s acquaintance.” He cocked his head, now regarding her with curiosity. “How about you explain what’s going on and we’ll call it even?”

Before she could respond, Tumaini’s stomach rumbled rather loudly. Kopa fixed him with a knowing look. “We can discuss it over a meal,” he suggested. “Wasn’t expecting company, but I brought back enough to share.”

Siri shook her head. “That’s very kind of you, but—”

Her words were cut short as her stomach rumbled even louder. An irrepressible grin appeared on Kopa’s face, and Tumaini gave her an encouraging wink.

“—okay, fine,” she said, smiling grudgingly as well. “Lead the way.”

•••

“What did you do? Tell me!”

Vitani shirked back at the sight of Simba’s imposing figure. She crouched behind Zira’s foreleg, trying to make herself as small as possible.

By contrast, her mother did not look intimidated at all. “Nothing,” Zira responded disdainfully. “I did nothing wrong. You ought to keep searching for your boy instead of hounding me.”

“Don’t lie to me!” shouted Simba, advancing on Zira with every word. “Zazu spotted him in the river. I know it was you!”

Vitani peered up at her timidly. “Mother?”

“You wound me, Simba,” Zira sneered. “I was looking for Nuka when the storm hit. Perhaps if you’d kept a closer eye on your son, he’d still be with you.”

An enraged snarl arose from Simba’s throat, and in the blink of an eye he had her pinned to the ground. Vitani cried out in dismay as her mother struggled to free herself, and then her view was obscured by the numerous lionesses leaping in to pull Simba off of Zira.

Vitani awoke with a gasp, bolting to her paws on instinct before her senses returned in full. She immediately regretted it as a sharp pain shot through her head and coursed down along her aching back, forcing her into a prone position again. Blinking a few times to clear her swimming vision, she took a moment to let the cold damp air rouse her into wakefulness.

“Easy, Vitani,” came Kiara’s voice from nearby. “Don’t move too quickly all at once.”

Vitani noticed that she could see her own breath in the air. “How long was I out?” she asked groggily, straightening.

“The sun went down a while ago. I haven’t seen anyone else pass through this cavern.”

As her eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, Vitani took in their surroundings before peering up to assess the scale of their drop. She could make out a sliver of the night sky beyond the opening in the stone ceiling, high above their reach. “We’re not climbing, that’s for sure. Come on, we’d better find a way out of here.” She gingerly rose, this time more tentatively. Kiara got up as well, though Vitani could tell she was having trouble putting weight on one side. “You alright, princess?”

“I’ll live, thanks to you,” assured Kiara. “I don’t think anything’s broken. It’s you I’m worried ab—” She stumbled with a small yelp and immediately retracted her paw.

Vitani immediately darted forward and caught her. “I’ve been worse,” she said, taking a few steps forward with the princess while holding her steady. “First rule of falling, avoid dropping straight down.”

“That was... definitely an impressive catch...” Kiara’s words were becoming more strained, now that they were on the move.

Vitani felt around Kiara’s torso, and taking note of the way she flinched, guessed that the princess had a few cracked ribs. “I’ve had practice. Mo—Zira would drill us until we got it right.”

The conversation gave way to silence, save for Kiara’s ragged breathing and the faint echoes of their irregular pawsteps. Vitani scanned every crevice and opening they passed by, looking and sniffing for any sign of a potential exit.

Zira’s training regimen had been torment, no question about it, but Vitani had learned long ago to appreciate the skills she had been taught. Still, this is probably the last thing she had in mind. Vitani’s training was built around ensuring one’s own survival in dangerous situations, and what she was doing right now was the complete opposite of self-preservation.

She realized that she was buzzing with a sort of perverse glee at what Zira would think if she were here to see her now. I am nothing like you, see? You couldn’t mould me into your soldier.

“Vitani?” said Kiara.

“What?”

“Are you... do you wish Zira survived that night?”

Vitani narrowed her eyes. This was the last thing she wanted to discuss. “No,” she responded shortly, hoping that would put an end to the conversation.

“She was within my reach,” reflected Kiara. “I begged her to take my paw, but she refused.”

“She got what she deserved. If it had been up to me, I’d have put her in the river myself.”

“I don’t believe that,” Kiara told her firmly. “You’re not like her. You wouldn’t hurt someone just to get what you want.”

Vitani recalled the wildfire she and Nuka had started during Kiara’s first hunt — and how close she had come to killing Simba in the gorge. “But I already have,” she confessed bitterly. “That’s what you don’t understand, I’m not here to play hero — I’m here to set things right.”

“I do understand, Vitani,” the princess replied. “That’s what I admire about you.”

Despite herself, Vitani couldn’t help being taken aback. She could count every compliment she had ever received on one paw, and definitely never considered herself a role model in any sense of the term. But the way Kiara said the words somehow made Vitani want to believe it as well. It was a strange sense of hope she didn’t know she had in her.

Kiara smiled upon seeing her befuddled look. “Kovu told me everything — the plan, the fire, the ambush — but that’s not who you are anymore. Don’t you think it’s time to forgive yourself?”

Vitani averted her gaze with a scowl. “It doesn’t come easy for all of us. No offence, princess, but you’ve lived a pretty sheltered life.”

“None taken,” laughed Kiara. “And for what it’s worth, I forgive you. I hope you can forgive Zira too when you’re ready.”

I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready . Vitani wondered if she would ever be able to articulate how she felt about Zira. Did I always hate her and was too afraid to admit it? Did I actually love her, or was I just convinced that I did? Did she... really love me?

“You miss your brother, don’t you?” Kiara asked quietly.

“What do you think?” growled Vitani. “He’d still be alive if it weren’t for her.”

“I get it. I wish I had more time with my brother too.”

“It’s not the same thing. Kion—”

“I wasn’t talking about Kion. I mean my older brother... Kopa.”

Vitani stumbled in surprise, nearly losing her balance against Kiara. She could hardly believe what she had just heard. “I didn’t know you remembered him,” she admitted.

“I haven’t thought about him in a long time,” sighed Kiara. “But you said his name while you were unconscious, and then it all came back to me.” A faraway look slipped into her eyes. “He vanished before I was even old enough to walk. I only vaguely remember what he looked like. Dad didn’t talk about him often — it was too painful for him — but mom would tell me how Kopa befriended hyenas and vultures that most Pridelanders wouldn’t look twice at. And when my father was cheated out of the kingdom, it was Kopa who uncovered the truth.”

Vitani silently recalled how Zira had planned her own coup before Kopa had won back the Pride Lands for Simba. “You were born right at the end of all that.”

Kiara smiled wistfully. “Even as a cub, my brother was kind and brave, and he never gave up. And even if he isn’t around anymore, I guess it was him I’ve been trying to live up to.”

Vitani snorted, deflecting her real feelings with her usual veneer. “Don’t idealize your brother, Kiara — it’s unhealthy, take it from someone with lots of experience.” She gave the princess a wry look. “If you must know, Kopa was also a pain in the rear. So maybe don’t try to live up to that part.”

“Oh good, you two are still alive,” came Tazama’s voice from behind them.

Vitani turned to see her teammate emerge from an intersecting tunnel, though she moved with a visible limp. Kiara shifted her weight so that she was standing of her own accord. “Go on, help her,” she insisted. “I’ll manage.”

Vitani slowly stepped back, ensuring that Kiara really was fine before hurrying to Tazama’s side. “Any sign of the others?”

“Nothing down here except dead zebras,” Tazama told her, now able to pick up the pace a little with Vitani’s help. “We saw Kasi leading the survivors out, but they were making too much noise to hear us. Shabaha’s gone ahead to see which way they went.”

Relief swept over Vitani upon hearing that her entire team had survived. This might not have been a complete disaster after all.

“There’s bad news too, boss,” continued Tazama. “I heard flooding back there. My guess is the earthquake diverted a nearby river into these caverns.”

Vitani nodded briskly. “Right. Then let’s pick up the pace.” She turned her attention to Kiara. “You sure you’re okay to walk on your own?”

Kiara winced with every other step she took, but she nodded stiffly regardless. As the three of them hobbled through passageway after passageway with no end in sight, Vitani could make out what sounded like rushing water close by. A muffled rumble was also growing louder overhead, coupled with the slow, ominous sound of stone cracking.

Vitani felt something cold and wet land between her ears, and the dripping around them intensified aggressively. Suddenly a chunk of wall toppled open behind them, followed quickly by another, sending a vigorous torrent spraying into the tunnel. A moment later, the ceiling began breaking apart piece by piece, forcing the three lionesses to move even more quickly to try and outrun the calamity dogging their heels.

“We’re out of time!” yelled Vitani. “Where’s Shabaha?”

“Over here.” Shabaha breathlessly appeared from a nearby junction, looking more or less unscathed from her fall. “I found an exit. Hurry.”

“Take the princess,” Vitani ordered, trying not to think about the water creeping up their legs.

Shabaha put her weight against Kiara’s injured side and helped her down the tunnel, with Vitani and Tazama following close behind. A crashing boom was heard from the junction, followed by the growing roar of the water. “It’s... just up ahead,” Shabaha grunted, bounding for the end of the tunnel as fast as she could. “Not far now.”

Sure enough, the exit came into view as they cleared the next bend. Vitani lurched as the water level rose abruptly, now lapping at her underside.

“We’re not close enough,” panted Tazama. “Put me down.”

“We’re gonna make it,” Vitani growled.

Tazama made a noise of frustration. “I can see better than anyone, you know that. You and Shabaha still have a chance if you help her with Kiara.”

“Nope, not gonna happen.”

“I’m not asking, Vitani,” said Tazama fiercely. “You have a duty to get the princess to safety, so take her and get out of here!” With a strained growl, she wrenched herself free from Vitani, splashing into the water as the ceiling crumbled around her.

Shabaha and Kiara looked back, unsure of what to do. Gritting her teeth, Vitani took Kiara’s other side. They broke into an uneven sprint, half-paddling their way toward the exit with the princess between them.

“W-wait, what about Tazama?” protested Kiara.

Vitani didn’t look back as the echoing roar filled her ears. The flood was now up to their shoulders, with chunks of rock hurtling into the water amidst their desperate bid for escape. “Till the Pride Lands’ end...”

A sudden surge from behind swept the three lionesses off their paws, and Vitani resisted the instinct to inhale as water engulfed her senses. Holding tightly to Kiara, she suddenly felt them both being yanked downward before their momentum slowed to a gentle drift.

Vitani gasped as her head broke the surface, followed quickly by Kiara and Shabaha. She shook a sopping tuft of fur out of her eyes and saw that they had been deposited outside into a gradually filling sinkhole. Gathered around the pool were the surviving herds — and the rest of the hunting party. Imara hopped into the water and crouched down, allowing Vitani and Shabaha to place Kiara onto her back.

Once the princess was safely away, Shabaha turned back to the flooded opening, which was still spewing out a steady rate of water. “I’m going back for her.”

“Me too,” said Vitani, getting up as well. “I’ll use the Roar to give us an opening. Ready?”

She planted herself firmly, ready to unleash the Roar — and then Kasi burst out of the deluge, front paws firmly clasped around Tazama’s middle. Both lionesses resurfaced, coughing and sputtering as they wearily treaded water. Vitani and Shabaha immediately rushed to help them, joined by Imara who expediently carried Tazama out of the sinkhole as well.

The Lion Guard clambered up onto solid ground together, injured and drenched but alive. The herds broke into rousing cheers as Vitani and her team walked past, and it was then that she saw Shabaha smiling.

On the other side of the crowd, Tamika was tending to Kiara’s injuries while Tiifu sat with Zuri off to one side. The princess raised her head upon seeing the Lion Guard approach. “Oh, thank the Great Spirits,” she exhaled in relief. “You all made it.”

“It was a close one, but yeah,” said Vitani. Glancing at Tamika, she added, “Looks like you’re gonna have your paws full for a while.”

Her sister smiled amiably in response. “You saved a lot of lives tonight, Lion Guard. I’ll be more than happy to do the rest.”

Chapter Text

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
Cause I’ve built my life around you.
But time makes you bolder,
Even children get older,
And I’m getting older too.
—Fleetwood Mac, “Landslide”

Kopa slumped back against the wall of his den, unable to take another bite of the buffalo he had hauled all the way from the mountains. Tumaini was sprawled beside him, one paw over his stomach and idly licking at a bite mark on his other foreleg. Sitting across from them, Siri was still ravenously ripping chunks of meat from the carcass, heedless of the blood smeared on her paws and snout. She glanced up when she noticed Kopa staring at her.

He hastily averted his gaze. “Sorry. I haven’t seen a lioness since... well, it’s been a long time.”

“You two don’t get out much, do you?” observed Siri, wiping her face with the clean side of her paw.

“Don’t really have to,” Kopa admitted. “This forest is plenty of territory for us.”

She peered out at the river, sitting just below eye level from the mouth of the den. “It is beautiful here. I travelled the mountains a lot as a cub, but I never would have guessed there was a forest tucked away here.

“Most predators don’t,” Tumaini said, rolling onto his back with a soft groan. “It’s sort of the idea.”

The lioness’ wary grey eyes were deep in thought. “Must have taken a lot of trust for the others to let you stay. The only places where prey get this cozy with predators are the kingdoms. That and...” She straightened briskly, looking as if she realized something. “I should go. Thanks for the meal.”

“Hang on, your paws,” Tumaini protested. He got up as well, though he had to take a moment to steady himself. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere.”

Siri shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re all in danger as long as I’m here.” She made to leave the den.

Tumaini swiftly stepped in front of her, all signs of lethargy now gone. “And you’re clearly in plenty of danger yourself.”

“I’ve imposed on you enough,” insisted Siri. “You already shared your dinner with me after I nearly killed you.”

“Like I said, explain and we’ll call it even.”

“You wouldn’t think that if you knew, and the less you know, the better. You’ll only get dragged into it if she finds out you helped—”

“‘She’?” repeated Tumaini. Siri hesitated, evidently reluctant to elaborate.

Something occurred to Kopa just then. “We don’t want to be unprepared if those lions show up here,” he pointed out, and at this her shoulders sagged.

“Janga. She’s — she was my...” Siri faltered, and sadness entered her eyes. “We were close. She looked out for me when I had no one; lent me her strength, when I wanted to give up on myself.” Her voice became quiet as her gaze fell. “But eventually I realized she was still chasing after the past, and it didn’t leave room for anything else.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kopa, inexplicably dwelling on his curiosity about his own past.

“Janga comes from the Serengeti Pride Lands, one of the three kingdoms around here. She fled a long time ago from its ruler, Scar.”

Kopa flinched instinctively as the image of the red-eyed lioness sprang forth in his mind. Tumaini gave him a look of consternation.

Siri noticed his reaction as well. “You’ve heard of him?”

He rubbed his front paws against the sides of his head. “I don’t know,” he huffed, struggling to steady his nerves again. “I’m not...”

“I have,” Tumaini chimed in. “Present company excluded, there isn’t a lion on either side of these mountains who hasn’t heard of Scar — a careless and hedonistic tyrant who brought his own kingdom to ruin.”

Even as she continued, Siri’s quizzical stare lingered on Kopa. “Well, Janga made it her life’s mission to tear down Scar’s kingdom. She found refuge with others whose lives had been similarly upended, and rallied many lions to her cause over the years. For a while, I was one of them.”

“So what changed?” asked Tumaini.

She fixed him with a guarded look.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not judging. Just curious.”

Siri did not speak for a moment. There was a recollective distance to her gaze now, and something about it gave Kopa a twinge of envy. “I was a nomad,” she murmured. “I was adrift, with no family and no purpose of my own. The idea of liberating an oppressed people felt right. Then one day we got the news... Scar was dead, and the Serengeti had been reborn.” She sighed heavily. “And Janga just... unravelled. She kept the drills going as if nothing had changed, as if she didn’t know what else to do. I grew tired of preparing for a fight that no longer needed to be fought. So I told her to go home, and when she refused, I left to find my own. It was the last time I saw her, until...”

“She came for you?” Tumaini guessed.

“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Siri recalled with a frown. “She didn’t want anything from me, except to ensure I wouldn’t warn King Simba.”

Simba. I know that name, right? Kopa kneaded his forehead, trying to latch onto whatever was hovering at the edges of his memory.

“It didn’t occur to you to tell King Simba before?” inquired Tumaini, casting another sidelong glance at Kopa.

Regret slipped into Siri’s demeanour. “I thought the Duara Vunja was done. It certainly looked that way when I left.” Her voice shook, eyes brimming with tears of rage. “She never used to be like this. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t come face-to-face with her myself.”

“I don’t understand,” Kopa said slowly. “Why did Janga attack your pride if she wasn’t after you?”

“Because my pride is also one of the three kingdoms. I think... I think she’s coming for all of them now.”

Tumaini’s expression tensed. Kopa did not miss it, but he said nothing even as he stood up. “I’m going to get Tanzu. Can you stay with her, Tumaini?”

“I... yeah, okay.”

There was something strange in the older lion’s voice, but Kopa decided not to question it for the time being. He promptly exited the den and pointed himself in the direction of the chimps’ habitat before breaking into a dash. As he sped through the darkness of the forest, Siri’s words echoed over and over in his mind. “ S he’s coming for all of them now.”

And she’s coming for my parents. I don’t know how, but I’m sure of it.

•••

In spite of its fractured state, the Chakula Plains were bathed in an austere tranquility in the aftermath of the earthquake. The near-full moon shone boldly in the cloudless night sky, signalling the approach of a new lunar cycle. Even late in the night, the utter stillness was hard to come by in the Pride Lands, and Vitani was thankful she had found a quiet place away from all the chirping crickets. Unable to put her fretful thoughts to rest after tossing and turning outside the royal den, she had finally given up and did what she frequently used to do in the Outlands — sneak away while everyone else was asleep.

However, it wasn’t solitude Vitani sought this time, not really. Her paws slowed to a halt atop a barren patch of broken flatland, and after checking once more to make sure no one was around, she raised her head toward the constellations above. “Hey, you there?”

The starry night convalesced into a shroud of clouds stirring in the otherwise unobstructed sky. Brilliant shafts of light burst forth from their depths, revealing the shimmering image of Nuka. “Always, sis. Couldn’t sleep, huh?”

“Today was a lot,” admitted Vitani. “Let me guess, you saw the whole thing?”

“Naturally. You did great, by the way. I doubt Kion could have handled it better himself.”

A lump formed in Vitani’s throat. It was all catching up now, the guilt she had gotten so accustomed to pushing down. “I didn’t want to leave Tazama in there, you know. If Kasi hadn’t gotten her out...”

“Don’t do that, Tani,” implored Nuka. “You did what anyone in your place should have done, and Tazama was selfless enough to stay behind. You should both be proud.”

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing him like this — lucid, serious... healthy. But he seemed content, and that was good enough for Vitani. “We made an oath in the Outlands. That oath kept us together through the worst of times.”

“Those times have passed,” he reminded her. “Change is inevitable, and now things are better for it. Isn’t that enough?”

“You know what, Nuka, it isn’t,” she snapped resentfully. “I’ve got the Lion Guard, Kovu’s the king-in-waiting, and we didn’t even have to murder anyone for it.”

“So what’s the problem then?”

“‘What’s the problem’? We could have all been here right now! We would’ve been, if Zira had just let go of the past.”

“And what about you?” he asked gently. “Aren’t you still holding onto the past?”

Vitani sighed. “I try not to, I really do.”

“But?”

“But everywhere I go, I still see the scars she left, the reminders of what she really wanted — for everyone else to be in pain like she was. She took away everything — you, Kovu’s father, my father... and Kopa.”

Her head dropped as she spoke his name. Nuka said nothing.

“I still don’t know if she did it,” Vitani murmured. “She lied about so many things, I don’t even know what the truth is anymore. I think she killed him, Nuka. But I can’t tell if I really believe that, or if I just want another reason to hate her.” When her words were met with more silence, she looked up to catch Nuka wearing an uneasy look. “What? What is it?”

He immediately attempted to rework his expression into one of impartiality. “What is what?” he squeaked, his voice involuntarily going up an octave.

Vitani raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that. You know something I don’t. Spit it out, Nuka.”

“I’m really not supposed to say anything...” Nuka stammered, eyes now darting everywhere but at his sister.

“Not supposed to say what?” she pressed. “Did she do it? Did she kill Kopa?”

He squirmed uncomfortably. “Not... really?” A look of horror crossed his face as soon as the words left his mouth.

Vitani frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? Did she have nothing to do with it, or did she—” The realization hit her. “She tried. She did throw him in the river, but...”

“Please, Tani, stop,” pleaded Nuka. “We’re not allowed to interfere with the living wor—” He broke off, panickedly sticking two ghostly front paws into his mouth.

Vitani’s breath caught in her throat. “He’s not dead,” she whispered, hardly daring to say it aloud. “Kopa’s alive, isn’t he?”

“Come on, sis,” he said desperately. “You’re just... hearing what you want to believe.”

“Then look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong,” she challenged him. “Spirits can’t lie, Kion told me that.”

“Of course he did,” grumbled Nuka.

“You can’t do it, can you?” Vitani turned back in the direction of Pride Rock, incredulity rising as the realization sank in. “He’s alive. I have to tell the king and queen.”

“Tani, don’t!” he cried frantically. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble with the Council!”

“Tell the Council to take it up with me when I’m dead,” she snorted, unperturbed. “Thanks, Nuka!”

Vitani could hear her brother muttering to himself as his apparition faded back into the clouds. “Nuka, you idiot... you had one job...  just couldn’t keep your stupid mouth shut for once...”

•••

Tumaini dabbed at Siri’s paws with a wet clump of cotton, collecting the last of the blood mottled in her fur. He tossed aside the crimson-soaked cotton and gently lowered her front paws into a small stone bowl between them. “Disinfectant,” he explained, immersing her paw pads in the clear green liquid. Her expression was rigid but remained otherwise unchanged. “You must have a high tolerance for pain. This part is supposed to sting.”

“Oh, it does,” she confided tautly. “I just don’t want to disturb anyone by screaming. It’s late.”

Tumaini laughed, albeit while trying to keep his voice down. “You would’ve gotten along with my mother. She came from a tribe that drank poison as part of their coming-of-age ritual.”

Siri raised an eyebrow. “Cultists?”

“Warriors,” he clarified. “Lioness warriors.”

“I think I’ve heard of them, actually. No wonder you put up such a good fight.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He examined her other injuries, letting go of her surprisingly fleecy forelegs. “This Janga, was she the one who trained you?”

“Yes, though I lived a different life before that. My parents used to bring me everywhere, then there was a flash flood one day and I never saw them again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. They raised me well, and I try to do right by them. Hey!” Siri jerked back, startled, when Tumaini began pawing at her ear.

“Tilt your head toward me,” he instructed.

“What, why?”

“Your ear’s bleeding. Let me clean it.”

Slowly, Siri tilted her head, grimacing a little as Tumaini licked the blood off of her ear. “So what about you, Tumaini? You said your mother was a warrior — where’s your family now?”

He withdrew, distractedly lifting her paws out of the disinfectant while avoiding eye contact. “I haven’t seen them in a long time. I... don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright, I won’t pry. What about Kopa? How did he end up here?”

A ripple of anger coursed through Tumaini. His paws shook, causing Siri’s forelegs to slip from his grasp.

“Also a touchy subject, got it,” she said astutely.

“No, it’s...” Tumaini exhaled, struggling to keep himself collected as the events of that day resurfaced. “Tanzu found him by the riverbank three years ago, half-dead and covered in—in cuts and bruises. Poor kid could barely remember his own name.”

Siri looked mortified. “That’s awful. So he doesn’t know either?”

“Not from what I can tell. Though lately he’s been getting these... flashes.” Tumaini shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Wherever he came from, he’s better off with me.”

“It matters to him,” she said firmly. “He deserves to know the truth, doesn’t he?”

“Sometimes the truth hurts more than not knowing. In a lot of ways, I actually envy him.”

“Why? What is it you want to forget?”

Tumaini, who was drying Siri’s fur with another cotton clump, stopped to shoot her a reproachful glare.

“Sorry, I said I wouldn’t pry.” She scrutinized him pensively. “For someone so protective, you sure are taking a risk having me here.”

“I can’t turn a blind eye when someone needs my help. My father—” Tumaini caught himself, abruptly changing the subject. “Where are you going next?”

“If I’m right, then my pride will have escaped to our hideout at Mount Kilimanjaro. We should be safe there, assuming Janga doesn’t know about it too.”

“You ever been to Mount Kilimanjaro?”

“Seen from a distance is about it. But I’ll figure it out.”

Tumaini sighed. “No, you won’t. Those mountains are a maze to navigate, and that’s before you reach the canyons. I’ll take you — until we’re close enough for your pride to find you, at least.”

“You don’t have to do that,” said Siri, taken aback.

“Yeah, I kinda do.”

“And why is that?”

“Let’s just say I once lived a different life too.” Tumaini’s ears pricked up at the sound of Kopa’s familiar pawsteps drawing near the den. A moment later, the brown-maned lion appeared in the entrance with Tanzu on his back.

The old chimp hopped off, steadying himself by placing one hand against Kopa’s flank. “Next time I will take the trees, I think,” he grumbled, adjusting the large strung-up leaf he was wearing on one shoulder. “A bad fall could kill me at my age.”

Kopa shot him a look of annoyance. “Let me get this straight. You never worry about falling from the treetops, those treetops way up th—”

“Kopa,” interjected Tumaini sternly. He shifted aside to make room for Tanzu inside the now-crowded den. “Thanks for coming, Tanzu. You must have a lot to deal with after the earthquake.”

Tanzu waved a wrinkled hand. “It is not every day a new lion enters the forest.” He turned to Siri and bowed his head graciously. “You must be Siri. Hujambo, I am Tanzu.”

“It’s an honour to meet you, Tanzu,” she said cordially, bowing a little as well. “I apologize for bringing you trouble when you have so much of it already.”

“Hakuna matata, my child, there’s nothing to apologize for,” assured Tanzu. “Kopa told me everything on the way here. I understand you lost your pursuers during the earthquake, yes?”

Siri nodded. “They’re probably still searching for me. But it’s only a matter of time before they track me here, so it’ll be better for everyone the sooner I’m gone.”

He peered more closely at Siri’s paws. “Tumaini, if I may?”

Tumaini moved aside, giving Tanzu room to take the leaf off his back. The chimp’s fingers nimbly unfastened the vine, and the bundle opened to reveal a plethora of herbs and berries. Tumaini examined the materials with a satisfied nod. “She’s not in any state to run right now, but once you patch her up, she should be able to walk as far as Mount Kilimanjaro.”

Tanzu craned his neck to meet Siri’s gaze. “That is where you intend to go?”

“Yes,” she affirmed. “That’s where my pride would be if they got away.”

The old chimp’s brow wrinkled in thought. “It takes several days to get to Mount Kilimanjaro through the mountains, and you will be vulnerable in your current state.”

“That’s why I’m going with her,” Tumaini informed him.

Kopa blinked. “You are?”

“It won’t be a straight path, and she doesn’t know her way around the mountains. I do.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” the younger lion volunteered immediately.

“No. You stay here, Kopa. I’ll be back in a few days.”

“You can’t be serious!” exclaimed Kopa. “What if those lions find you? If they’re as bad as Siri says, then you’re going to need my help. You trained me for this.”

“I did not train you for this,” argued Tumaini in annoyance, “I taught you to defend yourself. There’s a big difference.”

Kopa scrunched his snout stubbornly. “You also taught me never to turn my back on someone in need. Your words, not mine.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not what this is about and you know it.”

“Trust me, Tumaini, I know exactly what this is about. Did you tell Siri why it has to be you that takes her?”

Tumaini fixed his most hawkish glare on Kopa, who unflinchingly returned the courtesy. The prolonged silence was broken by Siri clearing her throat. “You can’t choose for him, Tumaini.”

Both lions stopped and looked at her in surprise.

“I have no idea what you guys are bickering about, so this is more of an observation than an opinion,” the brown-furred lioness clarified, undaunted by their bemused stares. “But I’ve only known you both for an evening and I’m already certain that if you leave Kopa behind, he’ll come after you anyway. So unless you plan on tying him to a tree, you’re not getting a say in this.”

“She’s not wrong,” conceded Kopa. “I’ll find a tree right now if you want to get the first part over with.”

Tumaini continued staring at Siri for a moment before letting out a grunt of resignation. “Forget it, I know when I’m beat.” He saw Kopa give her a grateful smile and added, “We’d better hide Siri’s trail. There should be plenty of debris to bury the path she took into the forest.”

“I can help,” she offered, seeing them stand up and rising to do the same.

“No,” said Tumaini flatly. “You stay here, get as much rest as you can. And don’t move around too much, your paws are still healing.”

Siri complied as she settled into a prone position. “Does he always have to have the last word?” she asked Kopa.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tumaini caught his friend smirking in response to the question. He sighed as the two of them padded out of the den. “This is gonna be a long trip.”

•••

Vitani raced into the royal den, nimbly hopping around the sleeping lions with a practiced familiarity. She spotted Simba and Nala lying side-by-side near the centre of the group, and hesitated when she saw how exhausted they looked. The king and queen had spent the latter half of the day assessing the damage to the Pride Lands and prioritizing those in most urgent need of aid. It was probably for the best that they had only found out about Kiara’s mishap after the Lion Guard brought her back to Pride Rock.

With a smidge of guilt, Vitani placed her front paws on Simba and Nala’s shoulders and shook them gently. They rolled over toward her, and concern slipped into Nala’s groggy expression. “Wha... is something wrong, Vitani?”

Vitani shook her head, silently motioning for them to follow her. Getting up as quietly as they could manage, the king and queen tentatively stepped around the others as Vitani made her way back toward the mouth of the den. She waited by the edge of the promontory until they stepped outside, wearily blinking the sleep from their eyes. She spoke as they approached, taking care to keep her voice down. “Sorry for waking you, but this can’t wait.”

“We’re all ears,” Simba replied, yawning. Vitani looked from him to Nala, unsure how to even begin to explain her conversation with Nuka.

“Kopa is alive.”

The drowsiness evaporated from Simba and Nala’s faces, instantly morphing into shock and disbelief instead. The king’s mouth attempted to form words for several moments before he managed to utter, “You’re... how do you...?”

“Nuka,” she said simply. Yeah, who am I kidding? I never had the patience for beating around the bush.

“Your brother?” recalled Nala, frowning.

Vitani nodded. “He’s my spiritual advisor.”

Having regained his composure a little, Simba asked, “And he told you... he told you this himself?”

“Erm, sort of,” she said. “Well, he didn’t deny it when I asked him outright...” She caught the uncertain glance between him and Nala, and strenuously insisted, “It sounds crazy, yeah, but I know my brother. There’s something he isn’t telling me about Kopa — or can’t tell me — and I have a gut feeling this is it.”

“Vitani,” Nala murmured gently, “if Kopa is alive... why hasn’t he come back all this time?”

Vitani faltered, not having considered this until now. She shook her head, determined to convince them regardless. “I have no idea, but don’t you want to find out?” She saw the sorrow in their expressions and immediately regretted her choice of words. “Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear this.”

“We held out hope at first,” Simba told her with a distant sadness in his eyes, “but eventually we learned to move on. There was a time when I would have given anything to know what happened to my son, but one day I had to accept that I never would.”

“But what if you’re wrong?” Vitani pressed, wincing again at her own brusqueness. “No offence.”

“No, it’s a question I’ve asked myself many times,” Simba admitted. “But holding onto the past has led me to making choices I regret — ones that put your family and many others through a lot of hardship.”

“Simba,” said Vitani firmly. “You never forced us to stay in the Outlands.”

“No, but I had the power to do something about it and I didn’t, because I let the past matter more to me than the present. I should’ve been better than that.”

“Which is why we need to be better now, especially after the earthquake,” asserted Nala.

“I understand, really, I do.” Vitani paused, taking a moment to mull over her words for once. “The kingdom needs you both and this is where you should be right now, I’m not disputing that. But you said you trusted me, right? Like Kion does.” She was heartened to see Simba nod in response. “If there’s a chance that the truth is out there — that Kopa is out there — you gotta at least let me try.”

The king and queen locked gazes, neither of them saying a word for several moments. Vitani caught a look between them that she couldn’t quite read, and at last Simba gave another nod of slow resignation.

“Let’s pay Rafiki a visit,” said Nala decisively. “If anyone in the Pride Lands knows the way, it’d be him.”

•••

From where he laid atop the edge of a grassy cliff, Kopa stared down at the buried path Siri had taken into the Maelewano Forest earlier. He and Tumaini had spent the rest of the evening meticulously concealing the opening, pushing rocks and fallen trees onto the path until it was impossible for any lion to traverse. Now his friend was napping behind him, getting whatever rest he could before their impending journey.

Watching for signs of movement amidst the still of the night, Kopa’s thoughts drifted back to what Siri had told them earlier. His brow furrowed as he strained to remember something about the lion tyrant Scar — a face, a voice, anything — but nothing came forth. So why does his name sound so familiar? There’s gotta be some kind of connection between him and the lioness in my nightmares, I can feel it.

“Relax,” echoed Tanzu’s words in his mind. “Recollection is a delicate process. Let it come to you.” Kopa quelled his frustration, now trying to focus on Simba instead. This is a lot harder when I have to keep my eyes open...

“Listen up, animals of the Pride Lands! Today we have a battle for the royal throne between Simba, your noble king, and his challenger Kesho ...”

Kopa’s head abruptly shot up. I said those words. I was there. The memory slipped away as abruptly as it had come, but for a fleeting moment the image had been clear as day — the animals gathered around to watch, the cheetah named Kesho, and—

That’s them. Simba and the cream-furred lioness beside him, exactly like he saw them in his previous vision — except this time their faces seared themselves into his memory. Caught up with newfound excitement, Kopa didn’t even notice Tumaini was awake until his friend appeared beside him. “My turn,” yawned the older lion. “Take my spot, it’s still warm.”

“I’m not tired,” Kopa said sprightly.

Tumaini gave him a rigid look. “You will be once the sun rises. Get some shut-eye, or you’re not coming with me tomorrow.”

Kopa grumbled in response but did not argue. He found the warm spot and circled it once before laying down. “Tumaini, how far are the Serengeti Pride Lands?”

“Northwest a ways, about a three-day trip through the mountains,” Tumaini responded with his back turned to him. “Go to sleep.”

“So you’ve been there before?”

“No. Now sleep, I mean it.”

“Then how do you know where it is?”

Tumaini groaned in exasperation, slumping forward but not turning around. “My father went there a long time ago, okay?”

“He did?” asked Kopa, now even more curious.

“Yeah. He even met Simba when they were cubs, before Scar took over. Why are you so interested in the Serengeti anyway?”

“I’m... pretty sure that’s where I came from.”

Tumaini finally peered at him over his shoulder, skeptical. “I doubt it. There’s no way the Zuberi would have carried you all the way here.”

“Why not? Tanzu said it’s the same river that runs through the Serengeti.”

“You wouldn’t have made it this far before you washed up, that’s why. The current isn’t strong enough for that, not even close.”

Kopa thought back to what he could remember of that night. “There was a storm, a really bad one. I couldn’t swim my way to shore because it was all flooded.”

“Kopa, do you know how many prides there are between here and the Serengeti?”

“‘I can see everything that moves on the plain.’”

Tumaini blinked. “What?”

“‘You are never far from my sight or my protection,’” recited Kopa. “‘I can see everything that moves on the plain.’ Those were my mother’s words, I remember now.”

“And...?”

“Plain, Tumaini. If the Zuberi brought me here, then the nearest plain has to be on the other side of the mountains, right?”

“I suppose,”  muttered Tumaini, not looking particularly pleased about this conclusion.

“So that’ll be the first place we go once we bring Siri to Mount Kilimanjaro.” Kopa noticed the same strange look he saw earlier in his friend’s expression, and decided to say something. “So what about your family?”

“What about them?” the older lion asked stiffly.

Kopa chuckled. “Ease up, buddy, I’m not asking you to talk about them. But after what Siri told us, don’t you want to make sure they’re alright?”

“It might be too late for that. I... don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Kopa gave him a knowing look. “Yes, you do. I saw you wearing that same look back in the den.”

“I won’t make enough of a difference by getting involved.”

“Or you could make all the difference. Maybe just enough.” Kopa got up and sat beside the black-maned lion, who did not chide him this time.

“I can’t know that for sure,” Tumaini murmured, more to himself than anything.

“You did when you took me in.”

“That was different.”

“Well, sure. But I was violent, unpredictable — and you never gave up on me.”

Tumaini scowled. “You were scared. And you were only a cub, you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I was a danger to everyone in this forest,” Kopa said quietly. “But you took a chance on me because you didn’t care about the odds.”

“I didn’t have anything to lose. I do now.”

Kopa sighed. “Tumaini. We don’t have any more time to figure ourselves out. That’s why I need to know, and yeah, I am afraid I won’t like what I find. But what really scares me is the thought of being too late, that I didn’t do all I could when I had the chance. Doesn’t that scare you too?”

“Yeah, I guess it should,” admitted Tumaini. He gave his friend an appraising look. “You sure grew up fast, kid, you know th—” Suddenly, he pressed himself flat against the ground, and Kopa hastened to do the same.

Following Tmaini’s gaze, Kopa spotted movement down by the edge of the obstruction. He could make out half a dozen lions through the opening, and swallowed when he glimpsed the one matching Siri’s description of Jeraha. He’s even bigger than I imagined. “That looks like them,” he whispered. “I’m gonna lay them a false trail.”

“Wait,” hissed Tumaini in alarm. “These lions are dangerous. I’ll go.”

“No. You get to Siri, take her into the mountains. I’ll lead them the other way to give you both an opening.”

Tumaini clearly did not like this idea at all, but he did not argue.

“I’m going,” Kopa said firmly. “It’ll be fine, I know where to meet you.”

“Be careful, Kopa,” murmured Tumaini.

Kopa silently navigated down the opposite side of the cliffs, seeing that Jeraha’s team was searching for a clear route into the forest. Careful to remain out of their line of sight, he double-checked the path to make certain Siri’s trail had been completely erased. He began to create a set of decoy tracks leading away from the Zuberi River, hoping to lose the intruders in the thick of the forest.

It’s only a matter of time until they find another way in. Trying not to think about what would happen if Jeraha caught up to him, Kopa picked up the pace.

•••

If Vitani thought she was reclusive, she definitely had nothing on Rafiki, whose baobab tree was located in the most sparsely populated corner of the Pride Lands. She wasn’t familiar with the area, having never needed to bring the Lion Guard to this particular end of the border. But it was just as well that there was no one else around, because the Royal Mjuzi was being rather uncooperative at the moment.

“Rafiki, we’re tired too,” beseeched Nala, staring sleepily up into the baobab’s canopy. “Please just come down?”

“Tired? Ha!” came Rafiki’s voice from above. “You don’t know tired until you get to my age. Now go away!”

Simba rolled his eyes, looking more than a little cranky. “I seem to recall you used to stay up all night painting this tree.”

“That was when I still had Makini around. Now I have to do everything without her! I’m getting too old for this.”

Having heard enough, Vitani stepped forward in annoyance. “Listen, monkey,” she snapped, “this is a literal life and death situation. The sooner you help us, the sooner we can all go back to slee—”

Thwack.

Vitani yelped as she felt a sharp pain atop her head, and whirled about to see Rafiki twirling his staff and grinning cheekily at her. Simba and Nala looked similarly startled, having clearly not heard him come down either.

“First things first, I am a mandrill,” said Rafiki, wagging a finger at Vitani.

Fighting the urge to swipe his feet out from under him, she growled, “I’ve never said this to anyone before, but do you think maybe you’re too violent?”

“Rafiki can be as violent as he is diplomatic,” he replied with a wink. “He knows why you are here.”

“Nuka talked to you, didn’t he?” she muttered, pressing her paws into the dirt so as not to rub her throbbing head.

Rafiki let out a chittering laugh. “You have a great deal of determination, Vitani. But you must ask yourself this — do you really believe Kopa is alive, or is it merely what you want to believe?”

“Of course I want to believe it!” exclaimed Vitani, bristling. “Is that so wrong?”

“Not at all. But the things we desire can often cloud our judgement when we desperately want it to be so. If you do this, you must be willing to accept that the truth may not bring you the peace you seek.”

She clenched her jaw, undeterred. “I haven’t gotten by on peace my entire life. The truth will do.”

The Royal Mjuzi stroked his silver beard with one hand, contemplating this in silence.

“You know what’s outside the Pride Lands better than anyone,” said Simba. “Do you know where Kopa might have ended up?”

Rafiki turned and stared reflectively into the sleeping savanna. “There are a few places I am  thinking of,” he said finally. “Come.”

•••

“You’re a long way from home, little lion.”

Kopa stumbled to a halt upon seeing Jeraha step into view between the mynasa trees. The burly lion stood close enough for Kopa to see the countless scars on his face, and he found he couldn’t avert his gaze from the cold cyan eyes studying him from beneath a tall red-brown mane. I thought he was still behind me. And where did the rest of his team go?

“This is my home,” Kopa said firmly, resisting the instinct to take a step back. “What are you doing here?” He had a sinking feeling the enemy lions hadn’t been fooled by the false trail, not even a little.

Jeraha scrutinized him up and down for a moment. “You’re a misfit. I’ve seen many others like you. You don’t belong here any more than the lioness you’re hiding in this forest.”

“I don’t know about any lioness,” insisted Kopa with as much conviction as he could mutter. The smirk on the larger lion’s face told him it wasn’t working.

“You could come with me, little lion,” contemplated Jeraha, still eyeing him closely. “I would give you a real purpose.”

“Not interested,” he said tersely, “and my name is Kopa.”

“Alright, Kopa. But my offer expires with the lioness. You’d be smart not to stand in my way — I’ll only warn you once.” Jeraha made to brush past him and continue further into the forest.

Kopa moved in front of him before he took more than a couple steps. “And I’m warning you, there will be many eyes on you as long as you’re here. If you harm anyone in the forest, you will answer for it.”

Jeraha paused, looking slightly impressed despite himself. “Your friends have nothing to fear, Kopa, so long as they have nothing to hide. I intend on taking only one life tonight. It’s up to you how it goes.” With that he walked away, leaving Kopa where he stood.

Kopa made sure the burly lion was gone before turning to face the tree next to him. He tapped its trunk with one paw.

A heartbeat later, a bat dropped down, flapping her spindly wings in front of Kopa’s face. “As if I wasn’t nervous enough with all these lions prowling around,” she grumbled. “What do you want, Kopa?”

“Head for my den, Jioni,” he instructed. “Tell Tumaini they’re splitting up. He’ll have to double back toward the pass and try not to get noticed.”

“Got it,” responded Jioni, still scowling. “What are you gonna do?”

Kopa bit his lip, feverishly hoping for a miracle he knew wasn’t coming. “He was right,” he said quietly. “It is up to me now.”

•••

The faintest tinge of light was teasing the horizon by the time Vitani saw where Rafiki had brought them — all the way back to Pride Rock. Following him around to one side of the structure, they passed by the Lair of the Lion Guard before stopping at a small entrance hewn into the stony surface, one that appeared fairly unremarkable compared to the other caverns.

“The Cave of Ancestry,” Simba said in surprise. The lions stepped through the opening, which was only wide enough to accommodate them single file. “I haven’t been in here for a while.”

Vitani, who was bringing up the rear, stopped to peer past Simba’s mane — and found herself at a loss for words as the interior opened up around her. The cave was enormous, but what struck her was the plethora of bright colours splashed upon its meticulously hewn walls. She realized that they were paintings from ancient generations, many of which were partially obscured by overgrown vines and ivy. The illustrations were spread extensively throughout the cave, but even then much of the stone surface remained untouched.

Simba and Nala were staring up at the ceiling, which was strewn with a dazzling model of the constellations. Upon closer inspection, Vitani saw that each star was inscribed with the names of the royal family, every last one connected to what she presumed were the names of their ancestors.

“I started working on this after Scar was defeated,” Rafiki explained proudly. “On the day your brother becomes king, your names will be recorded here as well. This way.”

Rafiki led them to the far end of the cave, where an enormous map was painted across an elongated stretch of wall. At its centre was the Pride Lands, painstakingly recreated in miniature form; Vitani’s eye caught a carving of Pride Rock hewn into the stone surface, and the surrounding geography was just as vividly detailed. A long line of jutting points denoted the East African Mountains, and the map itself stretched far beyond the Serengeti to the endless locations she had never heard of. I didn’t know the world was so big.

Rafiki clicked his fingers in front of Vitani’s face, snapping her out of her state of reverie. He placed one finger on the long blue ribbon snaking and winding through the Pride Lands. “This is where Kopa was last seen. Follow the Zuberi River until you enter the mountain range. There lives a warrior tribe who may know something. But be warned, they are not fond of outsiders.”

“I’ll tread lightly,” promised Vitani. “And if I don’t find anything there?”

Rafiki hesitated for a moment. Slowly, he moved his finger down the winding river, stopping at a particular spot on the other side of the mountains. “Here lies the Maelewano Forest. It is a place free from predators, so take care not to alarm them. Ask for Tanzu, he will help you if he can.”

She nodded. “It’s as good a start as I’m gonna get. I’ll head out now.”

“Now?” repeated Nala. “You should get some rest before you leave.”

“I’m fine,” Vitani told her curtly. “I’ve gotten by on less sleep before.”

“You’ll be in better shape if you don’t,” said Simba. “And what about your team?”

“They still need time to recover. Besides, you’ll need them to protect the Pride Lands while I’m gone.” Not keen on dragging out the farewells, the only thing Vitani added was, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She hastened from the cave and stepped out into the approaching dawn.

The sun had not yet risen, though the last of the stars had faded from the brightening sky. Vitani circled around the perimeter of Pride Rock, eager to be on her way — when the recovery den caught her eye. After only a brief hesitation, she silently slipped in through the entrance.

The den, which was rather modest in size compared to the others, was more occupied than she had ever seen it. The lions resting inside were laid in two haphazard rows along the walls, their wounds covered by various leaves and medicinal pastes. Sprawled in the middle of the floor was Tamika, her normally tidy fur mottled with splashes of her mixed concoctions.

Vitani crouched down to move her sleeping sister somewhere more comfortable, when she heard a groan from behind her. She turned around and saw that it was the black-maned lion from yesterday. He was muttering incoherently in his sleep, his brow tight with distress. “Please...” he pleaded frantically. “Don’t let him... I can’t keep... stop it — stop it...”

Peering around to make sure everyone else was still out cold, Vitani slowly approached him. She reached out to place a paw on his shoulder when Tamika appeared beside her. “Don’t startle him, Tani. Let him rest.”

Vitani raised an eyebrow. “He’s not getting much rest if you ask me.”

“The nightmares affect him worse if he wakes up before it ends,” her sister explained quietly. “At least, that’s what he tells me.”

“You take his word for it?”

“I can’t imagine why he’d lie about that.”

Vitani glanced at him again. “Honestly, he doesn’t look hurt to me.”

“He’s been in shock since the earthquake. I figured I’d put him here where I can keep an eye on him.” Tamika peered around the recovery den. “Anyway, my patients have leaves that need changing, so is there anything I can help you with before I get started?”

“Yeah, I’m about to take a trip for a few days. Do you know if Kovu’s in here?”

“As it happens, he is. You know your brother well.”

“You should have just kicked him out,” grunted Vitani.

Tamika smirked. “I probably would have, if there was no room for him. Fortunately, I managed to squeeze everyone in here. He’s at the very back.”

Vitani nodded in thanks and made to walk past her.

“Tani?”

Vitani paused upon feeling her sister’s paw upon her foreleg.

Tamika gave her a tight smile and a slight squeeze of the paw. “Don’t be gone too long, alright? I just got used to having you around.”

“I’ll do my best.” Vitani slipped her foreleg out of the other lioness’ grasp and tiptoed her way toward the back of the den. She was unsurprised to see Kovu lying at the far end of the den with his face pressed against Kiara’s. I’ve never been the romantic type, but I do admit they look cute together. Not that I’d ever say it out loud. She nudged her brother, who dozily raised his head in response.

“Wh-what are—” he mumbled.

Vitani placed a paw over Kovu’s mouth to shush him and jerked her head toward the exit. Reluctantly disentangling himself from Kiara, he got up and followed her out of the recovery den, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“I’m leaving the Pride Lands for a while,” she informed him once they were away from the mouth of the den.

“Huh?” Kovu blinked, still not fully awake. “How come?”

“It’s complicated — be easier to explain when I get back. I just wanted to tell you before I left.”

He gave her a discerning look. “Let me guess, you’re not taking the Guard and you haven’t told them.”

“They’re tired, even the ones who aren’t hurt,” she stated defensively. “Besides, this is personal.”

“I could come with you,” he offered.

“I have to do this alone.” Vitani was already questioning if she should have just left. She briskly stepped past her brother, not wanting to elaborate any further.

“You know, that’s one thing that never changed about you,” Kovu said in exasperation. “Even when you had both Nuka and me... you always acted like you didn’t.”

“Nuka was a bonehead and if anything had happened to you, Zira would have beaten me senseless,” Vitani retorted as she continued walking away. “What did you expect?”

“You don’t even call her ‘mother’ anymore,” he remarked dolefully.

She stopped but did not turn around. “Very observant of you. What was the last thing she said to me again? Go ahead, jog my memory.”

Silence fell between them.

Vitani snorted. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I get it,” insisted Kovu. “But don’t you think she—”

“No, Kovu, and I don’t care either,” she snapped. “All I can do now is try and fix the damage she did, to us and to the Pride Lands.”

“So that’s what this is about?”

She mentally berated herself for the slip. “I didn’t say that.”

“Uh huh,” Kovu responded shrewdly. “Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You have your own life now, and you’re probably tired of getting mixed up in mine.”

At this, Vitani whirled about to face him in astonishment. “Is that really how you think I feel?”

“It’s hard to tell how you feel, sis,” he said, shrugging. “You were never one for sharing.”

Okay, I deserve that. Vitani contemplated this for a moment, wondering if it was necessary to keep things from her brother when he clearly knew her better than he let on. “It wasn’t that long ago when I saw things differently,” she recalled gloomily. “If you had killed Simba when Zira wanted you to, I wouldn’t have lost any sleep over it. I never really thought about what I wanted after that.”

“Me either,” admitted Kovu. “But it looks like you do now.”

“We’ll see.” Vitani gazed out across the Pride Lands, trying to imagine where she’d have ended up under different circumstances. “Why didn’t we ever run? We could have gone anywhere after we were exiled.”

“Well, you know how she was,” he sighed. She could feel the weight of the world in those simple words — they both did.

“I meant us. You, me, anyone else who was willing. We could have made it.”

“Tani, we don’t give up on family.”

Vitani narrowed her eyes. “It was a mistake to call her family.”

“What about Nuka?” pressed Kovu. “Do you seriously think he would have left her side?”

“No,” she muttered. “And Zira would have never stopped coming after us. So instead we suffered with her.”

“Did you...” He faltered, prompting an inquisitive look from her. “Do you blame me? About Nuka?”

“Never did, never will,” Vitani answered. “It was his own stupidity that got him killed, plain and simple.”

Kovu winced. “You have a real way with words, you know that?”

“Like that’s new,” she scoffed unapologetically. “Not my fault you picked a dainty princess to spend the rest of your life with.”

“Well, I owe you one for getting the dainty princess out of those caverns.” He shot her a grin. “Sure you don’t need my help?”

That’s one of the good things about Kovu. He almost never takes things personally. Vitani gave her brother an affectionate pat on the paw that was only slightly sarcastic. “Tempting, but you shouldn’t stand Kiara up for your double date with the earthquake crisis.”

“Right, yeah, that’s a good point,” Kovu conceded sheepishly.

“Your heart’s in the right place, little brother, but you still haven’t learned to focus. I’ll be fine. I always am.”

“Okay. Say hi to Nuka for me.”

“I will. Tell the Guard I won’t be long.”

Knowing Kovu would only prolong their farewell if she let him, Vitani dashed away from Pride Rock without further pause, heading for the Zuberi River as Rafiki instructed. The sun was coming up now, and she intended to be in the thick of the mountain range by the time it went down again. In spite of her misgivings, she could feel an excitement stirring in her bones. I’ve been walking circles around the Pride Lands for too long. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be on my own again.

Vitani could only hope she wouldn’t return alone as well. I’ll find you, Kopa. Just wait for me a little longer and I’ll bring you home.

Chapter Text

Come ride with me through the veins of history,
I’ll show you a god who falls asleep on the job.
And how can we win when fools can be kings?
Don’t waste your time, or time will waste you.
—Muse, “Knights of Cydonia”

Siri jolted awake at the sensation of a paw on her shoulder. Her claws unsheathed on reflex in the same moment she swiped at her would-be assailant — and she stopped once she realized it was Tumaini. His head was careened back, apprehensively eyeing the claws prickling at his throat. “Sorry,” she said, promptly withdrawing her claws.

“I’ll have to remember not to sneak up on you,” Tumaini said dryly. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

Despite his levity, there was a palpable urgency in his voice that made her inexplicably nervous. “Jeraha?”

“Yep. It’ll take them a while to get around the rubble, and they won’t expect us to cut straight through... I hope. How are the paws?”

Siri gingerly tested each paw one at a time, finding her front right paw to be in the worst shape. It was easier to walk with the leaves Tanzu had wrapped around them, but she still couldn’t apply much pressure without feeling a prickling sting against her paw pads. “Tanzu told me not to put weight on my right side. Guess I’ll have to tough it out.”

“No can do,” Tumaini said flatly. “You don’t want to leave a blood trail for our unwanted visitors, plus you might develop trouble with that paw if you keep pushing yourself.”

“None of that will matter if my pride doesn’t know what they’re up against,” scowled Siri. “It’s not like I have much of a choice right now.” She tried to take a step forward and immediately bit back a cry as a sharp pain shot up her right foreleg.

Tumaini rushed to her side in an instant, managing to prop her up before she toppled over. “Okay, I guess this works,” he grunted. “I’ll do the walking for you on this side.”

She flushed as a slight warmth crept up her neck. “Tumaini, you don’t have to—”

“Don’t talk. Walk.”

Slowly, methodically, Siri let him steer her out of the den, matching her movements in time with his as they hobbled their way from the Zuberi River. In spite of their mismatched pawsteps, she was surprised by how sturdy it felt to brace against him. It was unexpectedly comforting, in a way she hadn’t been used to since losing her parents.

I’m just tired, she thought to herself, nudging a lock of Tumaini’s mane away from her snout. I wasn’t expecting a miracle, but I didn’t want to give Jeraha the satisfaction of giving up. And they weren’t out of the woods yet in any sense of the word; she hoped to be deep in the mountains by the time Jeraha realized they were gone.

Just then Tumaini came to a stop, nose raised to the air and twitching warily. Siri could smell them too now — two lions were nearby, or at least they had been recently. He carefully eased her off of him and murmured, “Stay downwind.”

Without waiting for a response, the black-maned lion whisked off through the underbrush. Siri tucked herself low against the ground, mostly leaning on her left side for support. The damp night air was unusually warm and a bit stifling, though the temperature had cooled down considerably since the earthquake. 

Siri saw Tumaini stop beneath a msunguti tree about twenty paces away. He peered around briefly and cleared his throat. “If you’re thinking about getting the jump on me, don’t. I know this forest a lot better than you.”

Out of the night appeared an ashen-maned lion who stalked around the trees to stop before Tumaini. Siri recognized him as Husuda, a proficient hunter of Jeraha’s. “You live here, friend?”

“I do,” Tumaini replied tersely, “and you don’t, so that’s all you’re getting out of me.”

Husuda looked around, either not noticing or not caring that Tumaini’s eyes did not leave him. “You got a pride here?”

“Yeah, there’s a whole bunch of us on the other side of the river. Now why don’t you leave, before I have to make you?”

“We have no quarrel with you,” assured Husuda, now returning the black-maned lion’s stare directly. “We’re after someone who passed through this way. Her scent is still here.”

Tumaini stiffened as the other lion moved to brush past him. “If you mean the lioness with the thick brown fur, you’re wasting your time. I already killed her.”

Husuda stopped to scrutinize him warily. He did not seem convinced. “So where’s the body now?”

Even from where she hid, Siri could feel the tension as Tumaini glared back at him. “I show you her body, then you’ll leave?”

The ashen-maned lion nodded in response. Siri quietly ducked her head behind the underbrush as she saw Tumaini walking toward her. Careful not to lean too much to the right, she listened for the sound of their approaching pawsteps and readied herself to attack.

As soon as one of Husuda’s paws poked through the underbrush, Siri heard a startled noise from Tumaini, followed by what sounded like him stumbling over his own paws. Husuda’s gaze swept past her as he turned in surprise, and in that moment she leaped up to sink her fangs into his exposed neck.

A sudden movement caught the corner of Siri’s eye, and she raised her front paws in time to block an unexpected strike aimed at her face. She was sent rolling away from Husuda, and she winced as her injured paws took the brunt of the blow, and registered her assailant as a stringy lioness with dark yellow fur – it was Saka, one of Janga’s best trackers.

Siri saw Husuda turn toward the commotion, though he did not have time to react before Tumaini grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him back through the underbrush. Saka bound toward her, though there was a touch of lethargy to her movements. “You sure can run, Siri. I’ll give you that.”

Unable to dodge aside, Siri blocked the next swipe with her paws again, taking advantage of her opponent’s unrested state to retaliate. “And here I hoped the earthquake got you all,” she growled as she strained to overpower the other lioness.

The two of them snapped and stabbed at each other, with Saka slowly gaining ground by repeatedly attacking from Siri’s vulnerable side. Despite her best efforts, Siri’s bad paw caused her to tumble onto her flank, forcing her to use it to fend off the yellow-furred lioness while trying to push herself back into a standing position with her other paw. But Saka did not let up, and her strikes became more ferocious even as their sluggishness became more pronounced.

Without warning, the ground crumbled from underneath Saka, who yowled and promptly vanished from view. Siri felt something faintly burrowing beneath the dirt and immediately scrambled out of the way; a heartbeat later, Husuda was also swallowed by a hole that opened up beneath his paws.

Tumaini hurried back to Siri, looking perplexed. To her astonishment, four or five rabbits popped out of the ground, shaking the dirt from their ears. Sauti briskly clambered up out of the hole, dusting her front paws while peering down at her handiwork. “That should hold them for now,” she said breezily. “This way, you two!”

Tumaini helped Siri upright before following the rabbits with all haste. “Sauti, you’re amazing. But you need to get out of here.”

“Perish the thought, my dear,” Sauti scoffed. “We look out for each other in this forest, you know that.”

“Thank you so much,” croaked Siri, her voice tightening a little.

Sauti smiled warmly at her. “Thank the earthquake, friend, it did most of the work.” Her ears suddenly straightened, as did those of the other rabbits. She halted to press the side of her head against the ground. “They’re trying to climb out. Let’s slow them down, everyone.”

“Wait,” protested Tumaini, though Sauti and the other rabbits were already burrowing back into the dirt. Within moments, the sound of their digging faded into the ambience of the night.

Siri turned her gaze back to front as she and Tumaini resumed their trudge. “Now I see why you’re so protective. Everyone in this forest is.”

“Only way to survive against predators,” he said briskly. He peered around, though he did not slow down. “Where’s Kopa? He should’ve found us by now.”

“Janga did train her lions to be the best,” Siri muttered. “Are you two sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve never seen him more sure of anything in his life,” he replied in resignation. “And he makes a good point. I might not get another chance at this.”

“At what?”

“Nothing. Now isn’t a good time for me to make up my mind, to be honest.”

“Tumaini, I don’t—”

Just then Sauti reappeared from a nearby crack in the dirt. “Bad news, they’re coming.”

“Husuda and Saka?” asked Siri.

“The two lions back there, yes,” the rabbit affirmed. “We dug them as deep as we could but they started stomping over us. They’ll be out before long.”

“Are the others alright?” Tumaini asked worriedly.

“A few scrapes here and there, but no one’s badly hurt. I sent them back to their warrens.”

The black-maned lion nodded grimly. As they continued weaving through the thick of the forest, the normally unobstructed landscape was gradually becoming more difficult to traverse. Siri could tell that they were re-entering the area most heavily damaged by the earthquake, which meant the mountains had to be close now.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before she spotted a clearing up ahead, where a veil of mist shrouded a small narrow path into the mountain range beyond. Siri’s shoulders sagged slightly in relief upon seeing that they had made it.

And then a sickening squelch was heard from behind. She whirled about to see a lion she did not recognize, and all she saw in that moment was that his claws were deep in Sauti’s torso. The rabbit had been the only one to hear him coming, and had reacted in time to stop his claws from stabbing into Siri’s back.

Sauti gave a rattling gasp and went limp, and in that moment Tumaini lunged forward with a snarl of rage. The enemy lion let out a choked cry as the black-maned lion’s claws sank into his neck in the blink of an eye, and he fell next to Sauti’s unmoving form, trying desperately to stem the dark liquid gushing beneath his paws. Tumaini snapped and hacked at him in a frenzy, heedless of the blood spraying all over him.

“Tumaini, we have to go!” Siri urged. “He’s going to hear us!”

He raised his gaze to meet hers, crimson dripping from his maw onto his heaving chest. The enemy lion beneath him was no longer moving, and for a moment she saw something feral stirring in the amber of Tumaini’s eyes. She backed up a few paces, involuntarily stumbling into the clearing and falling over again.

And it was then that she realized that the enemy lions had her surrounded. Jeraha stepped in front of the mountain path as Tumaini straightened, still covered in the blood of the lion he had viciously slain.

Jeraha looked impressed in spite of himself. “I’ll give you the same offer I made the other lion. Get out of the way, or die.”

“What did you do with him?” Tumaini roared, staunchly marching into the middle of the clearing to stand in front of Siri. Even in his livid state, she could hear a hint of panic beneath the anger.

Jeraha smirked. “He made the choice you should be thinking about right now — looking the other way.”

“Kopa doesn’t look the other way,” snarled Tumaini. “And neither do I.”

Jeraha’s smirk widened into a maniacal grin. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

With a grunt of exertion, Siri picked herself off the ground once more. She rose into a standing position, heedless of the harrowing pain in her paws. “No one else is going to die for me,” she seethed. “Do your worst, Jeraha.”

•••

It was no good, Tumaini could see it even as he poised himself into an offensive stance. Jeraha was blocking the path while his four remaining lions encircled them from behind. The burly lion’s eyes were fixed on Siri, clearly determined not to let her get away again.

Seeing no other option, Tumaini charged forward. Siri did the same, keeping him close to her vulnerable side but valiantly managing to keep pace with him. The first lion moved to flank Tumaini, who dealt him a vicious kick to the side of the head. A horrible snap was heard from the enemy lion’s jaw, and he fell clutching his face and writhing. Siri swatted Husuda away, though he ducked back before diving at her and knocking her on her front. Tumaini rushed to her aid when Saka slammed into him, pinning him to the ground in one swift move.

Siri had managed to throw Husuda off her by flipping onto her back, using her bad paw to strike her opponent in the snout in the same motion. The ashen-maned lion staggered away, blood spraying from his nostrils, though Tumaini could see that Siri was briefly immobilized with agony. He struggled to get Saka off of him, managing to free one of his hind legs from under her paw. Before she could secure her grip again, he delivered a sweeping kick to her back paws, sending her toppling onto her side while rolling himself into a standing position.

Straightening, he saw Jeraha step away from the path and start striding toward Siri. Tumaini moved to help her when he was obstructed by two more lions. Panic rising in his chest, he darted this way and that in an effort to get around them, unable to tear his gaze from Siri who was frantically backpedalling.

Jeraha, now looming over her with her back against a tree, kneed her hard in the stomach and she jerked her head back with a pained gasp. Her bad paw flew out to hold him by the neck as his teeth snapped at the empty air before her snout; she let loose a strained yell, straining to angle her claws toward his throat as blood trickled out through her leaf-wrapped paw.

Seeing that Saka and Husuda had recovered their wits, Tumaini readied himself to face them yet again, though he knew they were only delaying the inevitable at this point. I tried, he thought grimly. I tried my best to save her. I hope that’s enough.

And then Kopa leapt into the clearing, landing on Jeraha’s back before sinking his teeth into the base of his neck. The larger lion reared upward with a roar of pain and quickly managed to send Kopa tumbling into the dirt. But it was enough time for Siri to scramble away, cradling her bloodied paw against her torso.

Kopa quickly rose to his paws, hackles raised. Jeraha stared him down with disdain. “You were foolish to come alone. One lion will make no difference.”

Kopa looked undaunted, even as the rest of the enemy lions rounded on him. “You’re wrong,” he said calmly, “I’m never alone in this forest. And one lion can make all the difference.”

To Tumaini’s amazement, the forest suddenly came alive as the sound of rustling leaves filled the night. Hundreds of animals appeared between the trees in a heartbeat, while Tanzu and his chimps swung into view from above to surround the clearing. Out of the bushes stepped Sungura with a small army of rabbits, each of them holding sharp wooden stakes and other makeshift weapons. The alpha looked none too merciful.

The enemy lions backed up until they were huddled together, now the ones outnumbered. “You took down one of ours,” stammered Husuda nervously. “We’re even for the rabbit.”

“Quiet,” Jeraha snapped.

A slow-burning fury flickered in Kopa’s red-brown eyes. “I told you they were watching.”

The burly lion looked around and laughed scornfully. “All this for one lioness? Why?”

“Cause you don’t get to come into my home and kill whoever you want,” Kopa told him fiercely. “You could bring a hundred lions and I’d still try to stop you.”

“This forest is a place of sanctuary,” declared Tanzu. “For the sake of avoiding further bloodshed, take your lions and go while you still can.”

“Not without her,” growled Jeraha, indicating Siri. Beside her, some of the larger animals were dragging their hoofs across the ground, antlers lowered and poised to attack.

For a moment, Tumaini caught a glimpse of sadness in Tanzu’s expression. Then the chimp let out a shrill screech before swinging down with the others in unison. The rest of the animals leapt into action, charging at the enemy lions en masse.

Kopa leapt into the fray, moving straight for Jeraha as the clearing erupted into chaos. “Get out of here, both of you!” he shouted.

“What about you?” Tumaini shouted back, even as he worked his way back to Siri.

“There’s no ti—agh!” Kopa staggered as Jeraha swiped him across the face, shearing a few ends off his whiskers. The big lion closed in on Siri from the other side, never taking his eyes off her as he muscled his way through the other animals.

Sungura and his rabbits leaped out to form a protective semicircle around Siri, stabbing at Jeraha to drive him back. A flock of birds swooped down to peck at his eyes, momentarily diverting his attention and giving Sungura the opportunity to drive his stake into his paw.

The burly lion reared back with a roar of pain. Kopa swiftly rushed him and sent him staggering away with a swift headbutt under the chin. “I’ll be okay! I’ll meet you there, I promise!”

Tumaini ground his teeth in frustration but helped Siri up without argument. “Come on.”

“We’re supposed to just leave him?” she exclaimed incredulously.

“I don’t like it either, but Tanzu won’t let anything happen to him. We’re going to need a head start until you’re able to run again.”

Finally, Siri tore her gaze away from the once peaceful forest. “She’ll pay for this,” she vowed. “I’ll kill her myself if that’s what it takes to stop her.”

Tumaini did not dare look back at Kopa, knowing he wouldn’t be able to leave if he did. He hobbled unsteadily with Siri into the mountains, trying not to focus on the fading cacophony of violence — and how many lives would be lost to cover their escape. I just hope Kopa isn’t one of them.

Horribly self-serving as it was, it was the only thought Tumaini’s feverish mind had room for right now.

•••

To Kopa’s consternation, Jeraha showed no sign of letting up. The rest of his team, however, was flagging visibly as they struggled to fight back the seemingly endless horde of animals. The ragtag army forced the enemy lions away from the mountains, even as the lions tore bloody streaks through their numbers. One of the lionesses was pulled to the ground by numerous chimps before a herd of okapi rushed in; Kopa averted his gaze with a wince as he heard bones crunching in between her frantic screams.

Not far off, Jeraha was still fighting his way through the animals obstructing him. None of them seemed able to bring him down as he stomped and swatted them aside. A forest cobra lunged at him, only to be snatched out of the air and ripped in half from the mouth down. Jeraha bared his teeth at the others, daring them to enter his reach as he edged toward the mountain path again.

Kopa took a running leap and slammed into the big lion, hard enough to send them both rolling into the middle of the clearing. He was deftly pinned to the ground, however, now at the mercy of his larger, stronger opponent. Kopa writhed as Jeraha’s paws found his neck, struggling to breathe while holding the other lion’s claws away from his throat.

Something swung down from the trees and kicked Jeraha in the face, sending him reeling back. Gasping, Kopa sat up and realized that his rescuer was Tanzu. The old chimp sternly stared Jeraha down while his sons dropped into position behind him. “Enough. Get out of my forest and never come back. I will not give you another chance.”

Jeraha bared his teeth in response, evidently unwilling to do any such thing. Kopa rose with a grunt of exertion, prepared to throw himself at the burly lion once again. A little longer... I just need to hold him here for a little longer...

And then the ground rumbled beneath their paws, diverting the attention of the remaining enemy lions. Kopa realized it was the sound of the herds approaching, and even Jeraha paused as the ensemble of hooves drew ever closer to the clearing.

“Retreat!” Jeraha shouted.

To Kopa’s surprise and relief, the enemy lions broke off with no small amount of eagerness, each of them looking worse for wear than their leader. They scattered into the forest, heading away from the mountains in search of another way out. Moments later, the clearing filled from the opposite side with dozens upon dozens of duikers, okapis, and other assorted herd animals, sniffing about for any indication of the enemy lions’ whereabouts.

Tanzu’s eyes remained on the trees that Jeraha and his team had disappeared into. “Make certain they really are leaving,” he instructed the new arrivals. “Chase them out, but do not fight unless you must.”

“If you insist,” muttered Kiri. She and the herds galloped after Jeraha’s team, vanishing as quickly as they had come. Silence settled over the clearing as their hoofbeats faded away once more.

A quiet clatter was heard from the gore-spattered stick that fell from Sungura’s paws. The other rabbits followed him in dropping their weapons as they shuffled closer around Sauti’s body. Near the centre of the clearing, Tanzu was rallying his sons into action. Kopa watched them search the bodies for survivors, dully aware that there was a curious ringing in his ears.

Sungura wordlessly crouched down and cradled his mate’s unmoving form in his paws, pressing his forehead against hers as her blood trickled onto his fur. The cloying scent of carnage lingered in Kopa’s nostrils, and it was then that he realized his paws were shaking uncontrollably. Sickened by the enormity of what had happened, he sank to the ground as the overwhelming emotions finally caught up to him.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, and he looked up to see Tanzu standing soberly by his side. The ringing slowly faded from his ears, leaving only the deathly silence that hung over their surroundings. “Did we make a mistake, Tanzu?” he murmured numbly. “How could we let this happen?”

Tanzu’s brow was heavy with weariness. “To shield the innocent is never a mistake. One life cannot be measured against another, let alone hundreds.” His gaze shifted to the dead and wounded before them. “We fought for more than Siri’s life tonight, my child. You will understand, but right now is not the time to make sense of it.”

Kopa’s throat tightened as his eyes found Sauti’s body again. “Siri warned us this would happen,” he whispered, his voice threatening to break. “I should have listened.”

“No, Kopa.” Sungura gently laid Sauti upon the ground and stood, his chest and paws stained with crimson. “You told us to hide and we chose to follow you. I’d do it again if I had to. Sauti would’ve too.”

“We will heal in time,” Tanzu asserted. “This forest has been around long before you were born, Kopa. It will take more than a few lions to tear it apart.”

Kopa sat up, sniffling a little as he rubbed his nose with one paw. “This isn’t over. Those lions did all this to stop Siri from warning the Serengeti Pride. I have to make sure she does.”

Tanzu nodded sagely. “Good luck. May the Great Spirits keep you and Tumaini safe until you come back.”

“I’m not coming back, Tanzu.”

The old chimp fell silent, as did the other animals nearby.

Kopa had to force himself to say the words. There was a part of him that was tempted to turn tail, crawl into his den, and await Tumaini’s return like his friend had wanted. “Those lions won’t give up,” he murmured. “They know about me now, and I’ll only be putting everyone else in danger.”

“That is not the only reason... is it?” asked Tanzu.

“I...” Kopa’s gaze fell. “You’re right, it’s not. I think my family’s in the Serengeti. And if they aren’t, then I’ll keep looking for them. I won’t stop, not until I find them.”

Tanzu stood resolutely. His expression was solemn, but there was understanding in his eyes. “The river once brought you to us, and now it must guide you home. We will miss you, Kopa.”

“Send our regards to Tumaini when you see him,” Sungura mumbled.

A rush of emotion seized Kopa, and at last the tears came forth. He pulled Tanzu into an embrace, trying to find the words to convey how much the last three years meant to him. “Tanzu, I... thank you. For everything.”

“Goodbye, child,” the old chimp said softly. “You have been a blessing to us. I hope you find what your heart longs for. Go now, we will be alright.”

Kopa dashed the tears from his eyes. He straightened and took one last look at the animals gathered around him, who gave him nods of farewell as they moved aside to let him pass. Sungura’s rabbits waved goodbye, while the alpha offered him an unsteady but encouraging smile.

Taking a deep breath, Kopa dashed away into the mountains, leaving behind the forest he had called home since he was a cub.

•••

1ST MOON, DAY 24
2 DAYS AGO

Eyes closed, Fujo drew several long, slow breaths with all four paws pressed against the floor. One ear twitched at the sound of shouting from down the corridor outside the den; there was no mistaking the voice for anyone but Malka’s. Without so much as a hint of irritation to break his composure, Fujo intently pressed his ears flat against his head, honing himself into the sonic vibrations within Mount Tempest’s labyrinth-like interior while the surrounding noise slipped away.

Rippling outlines of the familiar corridors and water tunnels took form in his mind’s eye, interspersed with fragments of sound fading in and out of focus — mostly noises of movement accompanied by the occasional snatches of conversation; several levels below, a lioness was making her elderly father comfortable in their den, and in another there were a quartet of cubs fervently play-fighting together.

Fujo’s attention lingered on the cubs for a moment. There was no way to bring them elsewhere, not without raising questions from the pride. They may be innocent in this, but for me to do nothing would not spare them either. He moved on, taking care to inspect the lookout posts carved out from the sides of the mountain. Empty again. Negligence of duty, not that Malka would care even if he heard. Fujo knew who the culprits were, naturally, but it would not do to make himself unpopular right now.

Spiralling down the near-symmetrical network of corridors to the ground floor, the sonic images etched themselves into an echo-filled expanse, connected on all sides to the passageways encircling the Great Hall. Fujo was pleased to find most of the pride concentrated along the lower levels already.I’d rather we don’t incur too many losses. We will have to take the fight back to Janga sooner rather than later.

Guiding his attention through the main entrance, Fujo quickly confirmed that Janga’s forces hadn’t yet arrived. He probed his way into the caverns beneath Mount Tempest and was satisfied to see that the blockage in the drainage tunnels had not been dislodged by the rising water levels. Knowing it would take the pride a bit longer to notice, he opened his eyes and allowed his senses to re-attune with his surroundings.

Fujo flinched involuntarily as the noise battering at the edges of his consciousness flooded back in earnest — namely in the form of Kumi’s incensed yelling which was now drowning out Malka’s. Listening for anything that would tune out their words, Fujo straightened as the faintly audible patter of pawsteps projected a sonic image of someone hurrying up the corridor from the other side of the wall.

Fujo waited until the approaching figure was close enough to hear him before he spoke. “You should be elsewhere, if I’m not mistaken.”

A moment later, Siri appeared in the entrance wearing a mock scowl. “Why do you always feel the need to do that?”

“To use the Sight of the Spirits?” he inquired unassumingly.

“To be weird about it.”

“Is it so weird when you already know I have it?”

Her slight twitching smile told him he wasn’t being coy enough. “No, but you could at least pretend to greet people after they turn the corner.”

“Pretend?” repeated Fujo, looking affronted. “I would never.”

She snickered. “And the others say you can’t take a joke.”

“I know. They often forget I can hear them too.”

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. No one can keep a secret from you, Fujo.”

“That was true before I received the Sight,” he said, smiling thinly.

Siri rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

Their attention was abruptly drawn to the corridor, from which Malka and Kumi’s angry voices were steadily growing louder. Fujo exasperatedly averted his gaze from the mouth of his den. “Of course, no one is good at keeping secrets in this pride.”

“Yeah, guess not.” Siri winced, looking mildly concerned at the harsh words she was hearing. “Should I do something?”

“I wouldn’t. Let them get it out of their systems. You just focus on tonight’s hunt.”

The brown-furred lioness turned her attention from the altercation as well. “Right, that’s what I’m here to talk about. Hamu wants to know if there was a mix-up, because Tembea is supposed to lead today’s hunt.”

“Tembea was hurt in an accident earlier this afternoon,” Fujo informed her. “It’ll be a while before she can resume her duties.”

Siri nodded briskly and turned to leave. “Alright. I’d better find Hamu then.”

Fujo closed his eyes. “She’s on the third floor at the moment, though she’s now headed for the Great Hall.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to annoy me,” she grumbled.

He opened one eye, watching as she exited the den. “Be seeing you, Siri.”

Whatever outcome awaited them, there would be death tonight. Fujo didn’t know which lives would be claimed or how many, only that it had to look convincing. Siri cannot be here when that happens, I’ve made certain of it. She has too much history with Janga to be forgiven.

Just a few more things to take care of. Even without tapping into the Sight, Fujo could hear the all-too-familiar sound of Kumi storming out from the royal den. He calmly strode into the corridor a heartbeat after she stalked past his chamber. “Where are you off to this time, Kumi?”

She stopped but did not turn around. Her shoulders were as rigid as her words. “I don’t know. Somewhere even you can’t find me.”

“A more likely outcome than you think,” he conceded. “Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened to this family, would it?”

Kumi did not even react to the jibe. “I’m tired, Fujo, and I’m tired of feeling nothing but tired day after night. I was never meant to be... this.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘meant to be’,” Fujo said flatly. “You chose this the day you exchanged vows with my brother.”

She managed a slight bitter smile. “But he didn’t choose to be king. Those vows were his obligation, and what he wanted always came second to that. I knew I would too.”

“Regardless, you have a responsibility — not just to our pride but to the rest of the kingdom as well. The herds are leaving, Kumi.”

“Can you blame them? They deserve better than us.”

Fujo’s mouth tightened, though not out of disagreement; quite the opposite, in fact. “You and Malka have no more patience for one another, I have accepted that. What I cannot accept is you leaving the kingdom in disarray over your personal blunders. What would your people say if they knew?”

“They’re not ‘my people’ anymore,” Kumi snapped. “They made that very clear after I left them, but I didn’t do it for this kingdom – I did it for Malka. And what have I got to show for it?” She continued to walk away.

Deliberating his options, Fujo decided that he was going to have to go out on a limb then and there. “How about Afua?”

Kumi whirled around immediately, all traces of self-defeat gone. “What did you say?”

“You heard me right,” he affirmed, gesturing for her to join him in his den. “I know where he is.”

She stepped inside with narrowed eyes but did not stop advancing on him. “Then tell me, Fujo, why would you keep this from me?” she hissed.

“Because he asked me to,” replied Fujo, backing up a few more paces than he had intended.

“And you didn’t even try to convince him otherwise?” she demanded.

“Of course I tried. But he gave me his reasons, and I accepted them. We’ve taken enough of his choices from him, wouldn’t you agree?” His hind paws touched the opposite wall as he said this.

Kumi finally stopped to ponder the question. Her gaze told him that she did in fact agree. “So why tell me now?” she growled. “How can I be sure this isn’t one of your elaborate schemes?”

An entirely fair question. Fujo deliberated his words, knowing he was taking a risk in being as candid as he was. “Because everything is about to change. I need you to deliver a warning for me.”

“A warning?” She frowned. “What have you done, Fujo?”

“It’s not a question of what I’ve done, but what I know.”

Kumi cocked her head, rancour momentarily abated by curiosity. “Your little birdie’s been busy.”

Fujo did not show surprise, though the look she gave told him he needn’t have bothered trying to hide it anyway. She’s been waiting to spring that on me, I see. “She’s a martial eagle, if you must know,” he said with just a touch of reluctance, “and this is quite a serious matter. How long have you known?”

“About a moon now,” she said. “The others don’t follow you because they think you’ll use that Sight of yours. But I know you have to stop and concentrate for that — and I can always tell when you’re leaving in a hurry.”

He scoffed, genuinely impressed. “And those were the times you followed me.”

Kumi nodded, looking just a little pleased at having outwitted him for a change. Then she became serious again. “So where is my son, Fujo?”

“I’m getting to that,” he promised. “But you should hear the rest before you run off. It’s the wild dogs.”

She grimaced. “So Bane’s finally coming back to finish what he started.”

“We knew the day would come. This time he isn’t alone.”

“And what about you?” she probed. “Looking to get revenge?”

“I don’t believe in revenge, as you well know,” Fujo reminded her.

“Most people don’t,” she responded with a shrug, “until they get the chance to seek it.”

“I am not as... shortsighted as most people.”

“No. I suppose you aren’t.”

“In any case, I intend to be ready when Bane makes his move,” continued Fujo. “Which is why I need to know you will return.”

Kumi let out a long breath through her nose. “Until this is dealt with, fine. How long do we have?”

“A few days from the start of the new lunar cycle, perhaps a couple more. Enough time for you to reach the Serengeti Pride Lands and back.”

“That’s where I’ll find Afua?”

Fujo nodded. “Bear in mind, you may have to accept the same answer he gave me.”

She contemplated this for a moment. “Does Malka know?”

“Not yet. I thought I’d tell you first.”

“Probably a good idea,” she agreed with a half-smirk. “I don’t want to be here when you two start squabbling.”

Fujo made a noise of objection. “That’s hardly fair, considering how many tirades from you I’ve had to sit through.”

Kumi actually managed a laugh, strained as it was. She turned toward the exit, looking to be in better spirits than when she walked in. “No one has done more for this pride than you, Fujo. I’m sorry you were shown so little kindness for it.”

“I don’t do it out of kindness either,” he responded plainly.

“I know,” she murmured. “That’s what makes you better than the rest of us.”

Kumi hurried off, her retreating pawsteps rapidly fading into pattering echoes. Her words lingered in Fujo’s ears as he turned to the opposite end of the corridor. Better? Hardly. But this pride doesn’t deserve better. He briskly marched toward the last chamber on the far end of the corridor, which was only a short stretch given that the royal quarters were directly below Mount Tempest’s peak.

He strolled into the king and queen’s chamber to find Malka slouched by the window, staring out at the elevated view of the mountain range. His thick black mane was unkempt, and though he did not turn his head, the dark circles under his eyes revealed that he hadn’t slept well for several nights.

The king did not turn to look at Fujo as he spoke. “What was that about?”

“A question I should be asking you,” responded Fujo icily.

Malka snorted. “Well, you’re free to listen in. It’s not like I get a say in the matter.”

“Please. I have far more pressing concerns than exhausting myself on your self-pity.”

“Then how about you stop avoiding my question?”

“Very well,” Fujo said shortly. “In case it isn’t incredibly obvious, I was doing my utmost to keep this pride together.”

“Don’t start, Fujo,” grunted Malka.

“You asked for an answer.”

“And that’s your answer to everything.”

“Because it has become everything, Malka, at least when it comes to what I’m dealing with. You, however, appear more concerned with intruding on—”

“—conversations where I don’t belong, like you?” Malka growled. “I didn’t ask for another lecture, brother.”

“And I didn’t ask to run your kingdom, but here we are,” Fujo snapped back. “There’s something urgent we need to discuss.”

Malka made a noncommittal noise in response. “Go ahead. I’ve got nothing but time.”

“Then listen closely, because the future of this pride depends on it. Bane is coming for Mount Tempest.”

Malka did not look particularly concerned. He continued to stare blankly out the window. “We planned for this a long time ago. All we have to do is seal ourselves inside until they give up.”

“It won’t work,” insisted Fujo. “He’s found powerful allies, including several other packs of wild dogs.”

“What would you have me do, order the pride to leave?” The king finally rounded on him and turned to meet his gaze. “Mount Tempest is all we have left.”

“You have allies of your own,” Fujo implored. “Simba’s kingdom is only a few days’ journey from here.”

Malka shook his head vigorously. “I haven’t spoken to Simba in years. How would it look for me to seek his help now?”

More excuses. Of course. But Fujo had expected this. “I thought you’d say that, which is why I’ve sent Kumi in your stead.”

“I’m not sure I could trust her to speak on my behalf,” his brother muttered.

“Then go after her. Fix this. The least you can do is try.”

“The least I can do is nothing,” Malka exclaimed, fed up. “Every time I try, all I do is make things worse. I’m no good for anyone — not this pride, this kingdom, or what’s left of this family.”

“Is that so?” challenged Fujo. “Perhaps I should tell Siri to stop bringing you meals. She’s already sparing you the indignity of showing your face.” When his words were met with silence, he sneered, “No? Then stop feeling sorry for yourself and start being useful. If you saw how tirelessly she’s been working to keep this pride together, you’d want to pull your weight too.”

Malka grumbled a bit at this. “You sound like mom.”

“Do you think she’d be proud of us right now? She’d say you were turning into father—”

Without warning, Malka backpawed him across the face, sending him stumbling away. Fujo lifted his gaze wordlessly, surprised by his brother’s sudden ferocity. “Don’t you dare,” the king snarled. “I would never do... what he did...”

And perhaps I would. Fujo stared him down, barely registering the stinging on his face. “That’s right, Malka,” he responded bitingly. “You’d never do anything.” He thought of Afua and decided there was no point in saying anything after all. We’ll all be better off when you’re dead, brother. Even for your sake.

The tension between them was disrupted by the sound of frantic pawsteps. Fujo stepped out of the way of the entrance as a breathless Chumvi rushed in. “Flooding... in the lower tunnels...” gasped the brown-furred lion. “...coming up... the main hall...”

Malka scrambled to his paws, all animosity forgotten for the moment. “What? How?”

“He doesn’t know,” scowled Fujo. “And ‘how’ is not the priority right now.”

“Right.” Malka straightened. “Chumvi, give the order to evacuate. Seal all the exits immediately once everyone is out.” He moved for the exit as Chumvi dashed off once more, looking more focused than Fujo had seen him in a long time. “Can you find the source of the blockage?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Fujo said with a grimace. “The Sight is not particularly reliable underwater.”

Malka hurried away to the lower levels, wasting no time on talk for once. Fujo flattened his ears to focus the Sight on the surrounding area outside. He could now “see” the Duara Vunja in the surrounding grassland, every one of them remaining stock-still with a disciplined practice. The Mtera Pride were shuffling out of Mount Tempest’s numerous openings, too occupied with making room on the plateau to notice the threat lurking in the tall grass below.

Fujo reopened his eyes and hurriedly made his way down Mount Tempest, wondering how many casualties Janga would inflict before she reached Malka. While the plan was for her to drive off his pride members rather than kill them, he knew that not all of them would make it away alive. An unfortunate necessity. But hopefully one that serves its purpose and rouses the pride from their long-dormant state.

Satisfied that the Sight turned up no sign of Kumi or Siri, Fujo shifted his attention to his next task — shutting Janga out of Mount Tempest. A violation of their deal to be sure, but Fujo knew there was little she could do once all the exits were sealed. She must have been desperate to accept my terms. I need to be rid of her before she is able to do the same to me — and I have no doubt she intends to.

Time for the game to begin. The first move is yours, Janga.

•••

1ST MOON, DAY 27
3 DAYS LATER

Janga sat upon the quiet plateau, watching the sun rise over the grassland. Even through her hampered vision with a leaf tied over her right eye, she thought it was beautiful, the way the light spilled over the horizon to bathe the mountains in its warm golden glow. But it’s not home, she mused, peering over her shoulder to gaze at the half-buried pass that, until three nights ago, served as an opening through the mountain range.

In the intervening time, the Duara Vunja had been trying without success to find a way into Mount Tempest. The rocks around the main entrance were not even close to being cleared away, and already it was proving to be a thoroughly exhausting effort. And if that hadn’t slowed things down enough, the recent earthquake promptly collapsed the narrow opening they had initially dug out of the pass, forcing everyone to redouble their efforts once more.

As for Mount Tempest, the side entrances remained stubbornly shut by the enormous boulders dropped into place over them. Fujo had to know how to move them, but Janga doubted he would be forthcoming with that information. This might not end well for either of us, she thought, reflecting on the risk they were taking in working together. It definitely won’t end well for both of us.

Fujo would renounce their precarious alliance once she was no longer useful to him, that much was obvious. He had to die, although that was something she had made up her mind on the moment she had heard his proposal. He wants me to kill his brother rather than do it himself. What a snake in the grass.

Under different circumstances, she’d have gladly told him to go jump off a cliff. Still, none of the Duara Vunja asked questions about the dubious nature of their “ally”, or the situation he had placed them in. But even after having driven the Mtera Pride out of Mount Tempest, Janga wondered if she had made the right call.

“You can’t take on my pride, not unless you can siege the mountain and win,” he told her. “And I can tell you don’t have the numbers to hold a siege and attack the Pride Lands at the same time.”

“I’ll find another way through the mountains,” was her brusque response.

“I suppose you could try.” Fujo sounded amused at the thought. “But time is not a luxury you have, and you still have the unenviable task of navigating the Keepers through the mountains in hopes of finding a sufficiently wide path which, I should add, you don’t know exists.”

Janga narrowed her eyes. “And if I help you, you’ll just let us through the pass?”

Fujo returned her suspicious look with one of amusement. “I won’t have a choice in the matter. Not if your lions pull your weight.”

She scowled. “I pull my own weight.”

“I suppose that makes two of us,” he remarked with a shrewd smile. His dark brown eyes burned with an icy fire but gave away nothing otherwise.

Of course, Janga hadn’t believed for a heartbeat that Fujo would leave himself at her mercy. It hadn’t escaped her attention that he had been tenaciously focused on closing the main entrance, more so than was necessary to maintain his ruse. So once it had become futile for her to secure the main entrance, Janga had made the implicit decision to “allow” Malka a chance to escape into the mountain range. The rest of the pride had scattered shortly after, leaving Fujo with no choice but to flee as well.

Janga allowed herself a smile at the recollection. The smug charlatan wants to play games with me? I don’t need Malka dead yet, so yeah, let’s play. She could allow Fujo to worry about Malka if it meant he would be too busy to cause her any more problems. In the meantime, she was free to proceed with the next part of her mission. I’ll track down Malka on my own terms, and maybe this time Fujo won’t be so keen to get in the way.

She soon found her thoughts inevitably drifting to Siri. How long have the Keepers known she was here? Why didn’t they tell me sooner? For a moment, she dwelled on the nights they spent away from the others after all the endless training. She had never admitted it to Siri, but there was something peaceful about those nights that Janga actually liked. Sorry, Siri. But you chose your path and I chose mine.

As Janga made her way around the plateau, she noticed the patrolling lions shuffling off to get some sleep while some of the others roused themselves to take their turn. It was only a matter of days before the Keepers’ armies would come, and although she expected she would have some explaining to do, it didn’t change the fact that the pass had to be fully reopened by then.

In the meantime, there was still the matter of getting inside Mount Tempest. Situated near the main entrance were the captives, some of which had been brought back from the mountains; three cubs and five adults, held under a rotating cycle of guards. The Duara Vunja parted wordlessly for Janga as she walked past them, and she couldn’t help but notice the fatigue in Kupinga’s features before approaching the captives.

As always, Kupinga held herself tall and without complaint, and not for the first time Janga wondered exactly what she had accomplished to gain the Duara Vunja’s tireless loyalty. Pausing only briefly to eye the sleeping cubs snuggled against one another, she leaned in and murmured to Kupinga, “Bring me last night’s kill. Whatever’s left of it.”

The orange-furred lioness nodded and promptly hurried off. One of the adult captives — Hamu, Janga recalled as her name — crouched protectively over the cubs as Janga drew near. It was a look she recognized, one she had seen many Pridelanders wear whenever Scar was in their vicinity; an uncanny mix of fear, uncertainty, and revulsion that Janga was admittedly not used to being on the receiving end of.

Pushing the thought aside, she stopped a short distance away from Hamu. “Are you ready to cooperate?”

Hamu only gave her a baleful look in response.

“You said the side entrances couldn’t be reopened from the outside,” recalled Janga, undeterred by her silence. “I admit, I didn’t believe you. Nor have my lions made any progress with the main entrance.”

At this, a small smirk appeared on Hamu’s face. “Yes, I got bored of watching them by the second day. It was funny at first — they’d pull out a rock and three more would drop. You know what the definition of insanity is?”

Janga quelled her irritation, aware that her captive was trying to get a rise out of her. “I can tell you’re hungry. I know the feeling well, which is why I know you’d starve before you let me inside the mountain. So listen up.”

Kupinga reappeared just then, carrying a bloody slab of meat by a bone clasped between her jaws. Janga cleared her throat. “This will not be enough for all of you. Not if you intend to feed the cubs first, which I should hope you have the decency to do. And it’s all you’ll receive until one of you chooses to cooperate.”

Janga gave an affirmative nod to Kupinga, who dropped the meat in front of Hamu with a wet plop. The cubs stirred groggily at the noise, but instantly perked up at the scent of food. They dug in feverishly as Janga continued to address the adult captives. “If you haven’t put it together by now, your odds of waiting me out aren’t great, and more to the point, futile. Sooner or later one of you will give me what I want, if not for yourselves then definitely for the cubs.”

“You’d starve them?” Hamu demanded, her expression livid.

“I’ve been through worse at their age,” Janga responded coldly. “And the longer you forestall me, the more your numbers here will grow. You can count on it, my lions are very good at what they do.” With that, she turned away. “Feel free to discuss your options amongst yourselves. But don’t take too long, for your own sake.”

As Janga strode off, she noticed Kivuli nearby, observing the exchange from where she stood. Janga gave her a bemused look as the grey-furred lioness fell into step beside her. “What?”

Kivuli snickered. “Nothing. You’re a natural, that’s all.”

“I’m not taking that as a compliment,” scowled Janga. “We have half a moon at most to get to the Pride Lands, and now the pass is buried. The Keepers aren’t going to be happy.”

“And they will be when they hear how we took this place?” asked the other lioness, skeptical.

“Mheetu didn’t leave me much choice,” Janga snapped. “They’ll understand, even if they don’t like it.”

“If you say so,” muttered Kivuli, unconvinced. “How’s the eye?”

“I can still see out of both eyes, if that’s what you’re asking.” Janga brusquely ripped the leaf off her face, ignoring the smarting sensation of the wind against the still-healing cut.

“It isn’t,” the grey-furred lioness said. However, she did not press the matter as they wandered the plateau in silence.

Janga stopped before the pass, still being excavated by the Duara Vunja without pause. A narrow opening split the barricade down the middle, though it was not low enough yet to sit level with the plateau. Nearly half their numbers had been sent into the mountain range as soon as they were able to squeeze through the first time — a decision that had slowed their efforts on getting into Mount Tempest, but Janga was determined not to lose the trail of the fleeing Mtera Pride. Fujo will seek help for them, and he knows these mountains too well for my liking. If he has any surprises planned, I want to know about it.

Kivuli smirked as she watched the lions gingerly treading the rocks around the base of the blockage. “I don’t think this is what they had in mind when you told them we’d ‘dismantle’ the kingdoms together.”

“Har har,” responded Janga sarcastically. She looked away from the pass, turning to face the steadily rising sun once more. “I hope Simba listens,” she murmured.

“He’s a fool if he doesn’t,” Kivuli told her. “And a foolish king is no better than a tyrant.” She cocked her head. “What we did here... does it bother you?”

Janga scoffed dryly. If only it were that simple. “I don’t pity anyone who self-victimizes but doesn’t act. This pride has not faced drought, or has it been held hostage by a ravenous army of hyenas. And yet they cling to their kingdom despite it being the cause of their misery.”

“And Simba?” inquired Kivuli.

“Simba restored the Pride Lands the only way he knew how. And he might be one of the few people who understands.” Janga’s gaze dropped, as did her voice. “For years I dreamed of the day I’d march back into the Pride Lands and kill Scar. I was sure it was meant to be me.”

“What about now?”

“Now I have no need for destiny, and the only thing I know is that nothing happens unless I make it so. With each day Simba’s kingdom grows more complacent, and eventually the horrors of the past will become a bad dream to them. The longer I delay, the more they will resist.”

Kivuli returned her gaze to the barricade. “Then we’d better get a move on. If we don’t get this reopened, it could take days to get the Keepers’ armies through the mountains.”

Janga nodded. “We have to reach Pride Rock by the time Bane comes for Mount Tempest. I can’t exactly tell the Keepers about Fujo.”

“And now Fujo has sealed us out,” the grey-furred lioness remarked. “This deal might have been a mistake.”

“It was our only viable option. Though I won’t make the mistake of relying on him again.”

“So what are we going to do about him?”

Janga scowled. “Nothing just yet. First I need to get to Simba.”

“And what about the other so-called king?”

Janga thought about it for a moment. Perhaps I was too hasty in letting Malka run. Holding him prisoner would certainly give her leverage over Fujo, and Malka, being the coward that he was, could potentially do what the other captives would not and reopen the main entrance. “Bring him back here,” she said decisively. “Alive.”

Kivuli grinned, clearly thinking the same thing. Her silver eyes were still lingering on the blockage before them. “I have an idea.”

Chapter Text

I’ve seen all the downfalls, temporary heroes,
Misguided direction, longing for perfection.
Love and pain, only for the foolish,
Once again, trying to hide what's there inside.
I'm the same temporary hero who's to blame.
—Pat Benatar, “Temporary Heroes”

A gentle wind ruffled Kopa’s mane, carrying with it the scent of the giant groundsels he walked past. The morning sky had turned a lively blue by the time the sun edged over the eastern peaks, chasing away much of the shadows cast by the surrounding mountains. The winding path ahead weaved in and out of view between the tussocks growing in the coarse, arid lowlands; even the most vaguely familiar landmarks were far behind him now, which meant Kopa was now relying solely on his sense of direction to navigate the mountain range.

It had been two nights since he left the Maelewano Forest, although he had lost Tumaini and Siri’s trail not long after that. They had done a good job of covering their tracks, perhaps a little too well. I thought I’d have caught up to them by now, Kopa thought as he looked for any sign that his friend had passed this way. He soon surmised that they must have gone in a different direction entirely, likely to throw their pursuers off the scent. I just hope they’re okay.

He hadn’t really stopped to dwell upon it before, but traversing the mountains in solitude for the second morning made him realize how unaccustomed he was to being away from Tumaini. On the first day, Kopa had made it to mid-afternoon before fatigue caught up to him; he had settled into the first safe place he could find, too tired to do anything but sleep. It only occurred to him now how strange it was to wake up and be utterly alone.

“You are never far from my sight or my protection,” murmured Kopa to himself, determined to press on in spite of his growing misgivings. “I can see everything that moves on the plain. You are never far from my...” He trailed off upon hearing voices nearby, their guttural inflections belonging unmistakably to lions.

Kopa hurriedly ducked behind a dense cluster of groundsels, peeking around the spiky shrubs to see what was going on. A half dozen lionesses were standing in a line with their backs turned to him, each of them painted from snout to flank in vivid lines and patterns. The Nami tribe, Kopa realized, recalling Tumaini’s description of the most fearsome warriors in the mountains. They look even scarier in the flesh. No wonder he always told me to stay away.

The warriors’ attention was fixated upon the lion before them, a middle-aged male with long russet fur. One of the lionesses, presumably the leader, stepped forward threateningly. “Turn back, trespasser. I will not say it again.”

“I’m not looking for trouble,” beseeched the russet lion. “I just need your help.”

“We drove off the lions who ambushed you,” she said flatly. “I think we have done more than enough.”

“Please, one of my lions is badly hurt. He can’t be moved right now.”

Kopa shifted uncomfortably upon hearing this. He made to stand up and reveal himself, when he unexpectedly felt a paw on his shoulder. Startled, he glanced to the right to see an ochre-furred lioness lying prone beside him. How did she…? I didn’t even hear her sneak up on me. She gave him a silent shake of the head, also watching the confrontation through the groundsel leaves.

“Your quarrel is not our concern, trespasser,” intoned the lead warrior. “The last thing we need is for you to bring it into our territory.”

“Then let me save him and we’ll be gone,” pleaded the russet lion. “You’ll never see us again.”

She tilted her head. “Or my warriors can kill you now, and we’ll never see you again.” She motioned to the other lionesses, and they began closing in on their quarry.

Without hesitation, Kopa leaped out from behind the bushes. “Wait!”

The ochre lioness winced from beside him but did not follow his example. The warriors turned in his direction, their leader narrowing her eyes at him. “You’ve taken a wrong turn, young one,” she warned. There was something like fascination flitting behind her gaze, though he couldn’t be sure if he had imagined it.

Heartbeat pounding in his ears, Kopa swallowed but managed to keep his voice even as he responded. “I’ll help him. We’ll be out of your territory before sunrise. You won’t even have to get involved.”

The warriors bared their teeth at him, clearly not pleased with the idea.

“Or you can kill us, sure,” he conceded. “But what about the injured one? Would you sully your tribe’s honour by taking a life who can’t fight back?”

“I know your ways,” the painted lioness growled. “You will report our presence to their leaders, and you will return in greater numbers.”

“No, we won’t,” the russet lion interjected. “It’s like you said, our quarrel doesn’t concern you. We just want to get to the other side of the mountains.”

She turned her scrutinizing gaze onto him instead. When he returned her stare unflinchingly, she said, “Sunrise. You and your lions have until then to walk away with your lives.”

The russet lion nodded tersely. “Thank you.”

“My chief would not have shown you mercy if she were here,” she told them brusquely. “You would be wise not to take mine for granted. Do not be here when I return.” With that, she swiftly turned and marched away, followed by the other warriors.

The russet lion let out an exhale before turning to Kopa with a nod of thanks. “I appreciate your timing, stranger. That wasn’t a fight I was going to win.” He raised an eyebrow, noticing the way Kopa was staring at the groundsels where he had been hiding. “What are you looking at?”

The ochre lioness stepped into view, grumbling, “Did you have to be so obvious? I kept your cover, didn’t I?”

“‘Sorry,” said Kopa dubiously. “I’m not sure who you’re supposed to be.”

“The name’s Kumi, and that’s all you need to know,” she answered, dusting off her fur a little.

“I’m Kopa.”

“Sajin,” the russet lion chimed in. He stared warily in the direction the lionesses had gone. “Who were they, a local tribe?”

Kopa nodded. “Yeah. Warriors, though apparently you can reason with them. Usually by doing whatever they say.”

“You’ve met them before?” asked Kumi cautiously.

“No. My friend told me about them.”

Sajin’s shoulders were squared as he led the two of them away from the main path. “As long as they’re good on their word to leave us be. I’ve got enough to worry about as it is.”

“Your injured lion, right?” Kopa inquired. “How bad is it?”

“Bad. He’s struggling to breathe.”

It wasn’t long before they reached a grassier strip of terrain, encircling a sloping knoll that was braced by a jagged boulder. Lying on his back near the boulder was a young lion with charcoal fur, breathing raggedly while a sandy-furred lioness was busily tending to his midsection. Kopa noticed that the ground was littered with blood-stained clumps of yellow moss.

“Taya!” called Sajin. The lioness looked up as they approached.

“It’s not good, Sajin,” Taya grunted. “I’ve managed to stop the bleeding for now, but his breathing’s only getting worse.”

Kopa quickly crouched down next to the young lion, eyes scanning the deep gashes in his side and the slight discolouration in the blood around his wounds. Pressing an ear against his side, Kopa grimaced when he took a closer listen to his breathing. “Oh no.”

“What?” said Taya immediately.

“He’s got a punctured lung. This is going to be complicated.”

“But you can save him?” pressed Sajin.

Kopa made a flustered noise. “I can try, if we had more than yellow moss to work with. But I wouldn’t know where to start looking—”

“Snowflowers,” interjected Kumi. “He needs everlasting snowflowers.”

Kopa’s head shot up. “Snowflowers. Of course. If we seal the leak, his lung can reinflate itself.”

Sajin’s eyes darted from him to Kumi, trying to process the exchange. “And then the puncture will heal?”

“It should,” Kopa affirmed. “I once had to get the water drained from my lungs, a long time ago. I recovered fine.”

Kumi peered up at the enormous mountains looming over their heads. “Trouble is, snowflowers only grow in the extreme cold. And the kid has until nightfall at the longest.”

“Then we’d better get on it,” Kopa said decidedly.

“Stay with him, Taya,” ordered Sajin. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Taya nodded, casting a grateful look to Kopa and Kumi. “Thank you, both of you,” she said.

“Don’t mention it,” the ochre lioness replied. “And I mean that literally, it’d be better for all of us.”

Who is she? Kopa pondered as he trudged away beside Kumi, with Sajin following closely behind. He would have to make up for even more distance in order to catch up to Tumaini, but the thought did not discourage him one bit. If he were here right now, he’d stay and help. He’ll understand.

•••

Fuli had never liked the mountains. Her short fur was ill-suited to the cold, and unlike lions, she did not have the body mass to sustain heat for very long. As if the chill seeping into her bones wasn’t irritating enough, the uneven terrain made it even more difficult for her to get up to speed. A cheetah who could not run was a useless one, and Fuli did not like feeling useless, particularly when she was in close proximity to a bunch of potentially hostile lions.

Initially there had only been three of them, a black-maned male and two females. Fuli, who had spotted them wandering the mountains just before midday, took care to remain undetected as she followed cautiously. Since then she had only managed to hear snatches of their words, but with the sun now perched in the western corner of the sky, she had gleaned enough information to have caught all their names — Malka, Fika, and Bidi.

Fuli peered around the boulder she was hiding behind, noticing that the lions had been met by six painted lionesses just shy of the canyons ahead. None of them appeared to be looking her way, so she nimbly darted from cover to cover, taking care not to so much as kick over a single loose stone as she moved.

Once she crept as close as she dared get, Fuli discreetly slipped behind a half-toppled outcropping on the side of a dusty hill, and craned her neck to try and make out the lions’ conversation more clearly.

“Come on, Nia,” beseeched Malka. “You wouldn’t be so far from your territory if you didn’t know how serious this was.”

“Do not presume my reasons for being here,” snapped Nia, the painted lionesses standing at the centre.

“Okay, I won’t,” he said placatingly. “All I want is a little information.”

Nia scowled. “So you say. You have a habit of taking more than you ask for.”

Malka scoffed defiantly. “I never ‘took’ anything, and certainly nothing that belonged to your people.”

Fuli noticed Fika and Bidi shifting uneasily as the painted lionesses glowered at him. Nia narrowed her eyes. “You don’t want to get into this with me, Malka.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he admitted. “I’m not interested in picking a fight with you, I’m asking because my pride is scattered all over these mountains.”

“They know to seek refuge at your hideout, do they not?”

“I can’t hope that they’ll make it on their own. Those lions are still after us.”

Nia was silent for a moment.

Malka sighed. “Listen, if your chief wants to stay neutral, then stay neutral. I just need a better idea of what I’m up against. Please, Nia, give me a chance to help my people.”

“And how many of those chances have you had?” she asked coldly.

“More than I deserved, I know that. But I also know my pride doesn’t deserve this.”

The animosity did not vanish from Nia’s expression. But her eyes told Fuli that Malka had gotten through to her. The lioness gave a huff of resignation. “The invaders call themselves the Duara Vunja — it means ‘the broken circle’ in our native tongue, something your people cast aside long ago.”

“You can lecture me all you want when there’s time,” said Malka impatiently. “Why did they attack us?”

There was just a hint of venom in the smile Nia showed. “You mean it isn’t obvious? The animals that abandoned your kingdom because of your neglect — did you not think they would seek retribution?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “We were ambushed by lions. No one else was there.”

“And you’re an imbecile if you believe they acted alone,” she scoffed.

“The wild dogs,” gasped Malka in sudden realization. “Fujo said they had allies.”

She cocked her head, disdain momentarily abated by bemusement. “You truly do not know what you’re up against. I fear your people are doomed.”

“Your vote of confidence is appreciated,” he muttered, now distractedly pondering something to himself.

“You have not changed at all, and so I have little faith in you.”

Malka peered up and grinned archly, strained as it was. “Well, you changed a lot from the cheerful little pipsqueak you used to be, but I still have faith in you.”

As Fuli watched Fika and Bidi struggle to stifle their snickers in spite of themselves, she thought about Kion’s instructions. “Stay out of sight. Learn what you can. Don’t do anything without reporting it to me first.” Not terribly unreasonable considering the circumstances, but Fuli couldn’t help but worry about Kion all the same. He’s a little too much like Simba sometimes, and not always in a good way either. She couldn’t be quite sure, but it didn’t seem like Malka and his people were a bad sort. My gut’s telling me it’s safe to come out. I’m sure Kion will underst—

A strong gust suddenly blew past Fuli, prompting her to dart back on reflex. But she saw the heads turning her way even before she concealed herself, and held her breath hoping that they hadn’t caught her scent.

She got her answer a heartbeat later. “Cheetah,” hissed Nia. “It must be one of them.”

“What?” came Malka’s confused response. “Who’s ‘them’?”

“The ones who sent the lions, you buffoon! You’ll have to silence that cheetah before they report back.”

Fuli had already dashed out of cover before Nia finished speaking, furtively glancing over her shoulder to see Malka and his lionesses in pursuit. Curiously enough, neither Nia nor her painted lionesses joined in, not that Fuli was complaining. I should be able to outrun these three, she thought, vigilantly watching for tripping hazards on the rough terrain. If nothing else, I can definitely outlast them by a few hundred paces.

Seems Kion was right to be cautious after all. Fuli couldn’t begin to guess what had these lions spooked enough to try and kill her on sight, but there was no way she was going to take her chances trying to reason with them — not while they had her outnumbered three to one.

As she ran, she couldn’t help but miss the days of settling petty squabbles in the Pride Lands. Things used to be so easy. These days I’m finding more and more that we don’t have the answers to... well, anything. Even right now, running for her life, Fuli wasn’t sure which side they were supposed to be on – and the thought was enough to make her more unsettled than ever.

•••

“Watch your step,” advised Kumi as they trudged up the deep layers of snow blanketing their already uneven footing. “Not every snowbank is made of solid ground underneath. The ones that are frozen to the mountainside will slide apart under your weight and take you down with them.”

Kopa tentatively followed the ochre lioness up the precarious climb, stepping only where she did and doing his utmost not to look at the sheer drop to his left; out of the corner of his vision loomed the other mountains from the misty depths below. The mountainside was still plastered with snow, despite the fact that they had passed over the clouds some time ago. The sun was still shining brightly, but it was clear that the afternoon was slipping away fast.

As if thinking the same thing, Sajin spoke up from the back of the line. “How much higher are we going? You said Kiza only had until nightfall.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t be too picky.” Kumi stopped as they reached a flat stony area beneath an overhang, just outside what appeared to be a tunnel or cave. She examined the messy piles of disturbed snow strewn about, nose twitching in the frosty air. “Interesting.”

“What?” asked Kopa.

Whatever it was, she didn’t appear concerned. “Don’t worry about it. This spot will have to do. It’s cold enough for snowflowers to grow, and it should be safe to dig here.”

Needing no further encouragement, Kopa scrambled away from the edge, grateful for the abundance of solid ground beneath the overhang. He saw Sajin wade into the snowbanks and hastened to join him.

“Not there, Kopa,” called Kumi. “Come over to me.”

He hopped over amidst a spray of snow and landed next to her, sending a fine white mist everywhere. She blinked as the snow gently drifted down onto them both.

Kopa held back a sneeze, brushing some snow off his nose. “Sorry, I didn’t kn—”

To his surprise, Kumi actually laughed. “We should get started. Our bodies can ward off the cold for a while, but the sooner we’re out of this snow the better.”

“Yeah, I learned my lesson a few nights ago,” he muttered, recalling the chill of the evening after he and Tumaini had flooded their den.

Silence fell over them for a while. Their paws quickly became drenched as they rummaged and scooped out pawfuls of snow, looking for any sign of snowflowers sprouting out of the stony surface underneath.

“You don’t like heights, huh?” remarked Kumi. Her face registered faint amusement upon seeing his look of surprise, even as they continued to dig. “I’ve lived in these mountains all my life. I could smell the fear on you the moment we started climbing.”

Kopa grunted in response. “Yeah, I’ve learned lately that I’m easier to read than kila*.”

“Don’t be so self-conscious,” she smirked, punching him lightly in the shoulder with one paw. “You came all the way up here even though you’re afraid, which tells me a lot about you.”

He did not know what to say to this, so he merely kept digging in silence. After clearing away a considerable amount of snow from one side of the overhang, Kopa was heartened upon catching a glimpse of a green-brown vine, protruding half-visibly from beneath a thin layer of snow. He reached in and grabbed it, careful to keep his claws retracted so as not to puncture the vines. Kumi had found another strand, and they deposited both strands away from the snow.

He felt her nudge him as they continued digging. She lowered her voice and inquired furtively, “If you don’t mind me asking, what was that with you and Nia back there?”

“Nia?” said Kopa quizzically.

“The lioness you practically volunteered to be killed by. I’ve known her a long time, and I’ve never seen her show leniency to a stranger.”

He thought back to his brief standoff with the painted lioness warrior, and the strange look he thought he had seen. “I don’t know,” he murmured.

“Nia doesn’t ever flinch from punishing trespassers in Nami tribe territory,” reflected Kumi, intrigued. “Though if I were you, I wouldn’t stick around long enough to find out why she let you go.”

“Yeah...” Kopa shook his head, deciding not to dwell on it at the moment. “So what about you? Why are you out here?”

“Oh no, kid, I don’t do personal details,” she said briskly. “You never know who can be trusted around here.”

“You trusted me when we met,” he pointed out.

“No, you piqued my interest is all,” clarified Kumi. “Even the locals have trouble talking down the Nami tribe, and I’m dead certain I’ve never crossed paths with you before.”

“We haven’t. Err, I don’t think.”

She tilted her head curiously. “You don’t think?”

“Let’s just say my memory isn’t the most reliable.”

They found a few more strands of snowflowers, though their pile was still woefully small. Kumi looked deep in thought for a moment, and then turned and called, “Sajin, over here!”

Sajin immediately hurried to them, eyeing the vines coiled together. “These are the snowflowers?”

“They sure are,” she replied. “Take them down while we keep digging, we’ll need at least some of them thawed by the time we bring the rest. Don’t bite too hard or they’ll burst.”

The russet-furred lion cautiously took the vines in his mouth and hurried back down the way they came. Kopa noticed Kumi watching to make sure he was gone before turning her attention back to him, and he gave her an inquisitive look.

“You got a habit of stopping to help strangers?” she asked, silently motioning for him to follow her a little further up and away from the overhang.

“I do what I can,” he said, reluctantly stepping out of the shelter and back into the elements. “I’m only here because someone once did the same for me.” The sound of the wind picked up almost instantaneously in his ears. To his relief, she did not take them far before stopping once again.

“You have a good heart, kid. But odds are you’re helping the wrong people right now.”

Kopa raised an eyebrow. “You mean Sajin? Aren’t you helping him too?”

“I’m trying to figure out who they are,” Kumi confessed. “I was halfway through the mountains when I heard a... rumour. Turned back a couple days ago to investigate. Now there are lions I don’t recognize passing through these parts, which makes me think it wasn’t just a rumour.”

“You’re talking about the attack on Mount Tempest, aren’t you?” Kopa guessed.

The intense look she gave him told him he was correct. “Where did you hear about that?” she asked warily.

“A lioness named Siri — she stumbled into my home two nights ago. My friend and I helped her escape the lions that came after her. He’s bringing her somewhere safe now.”

The tension eased from Kumi’s demeanour, though she did not show any emotion otherwise. “I see.”

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure Sajin and the others are from her pride too.”

“They’re not.”

Kopa frowned. “How do you know?”

Kumi bit her lip. “Because I am,” she said reluctantly.

He froze, only now realizing that he had never clarified this with Sajin or Taya. “So if you’re—that means they’re... the Duara Vunja?”

“Is that what they’re called?”

Kopa nodded gingerly, now stricken with anxiety. “Siri told me about them. She’s got history with their leader, Janga.”

“News to me,” grunted Kumi. “Siri never mentioned anything about them when she joined my pride.”

“So what do we do?” he asked trepidatiously.

She gave a half-shrug as she led him back toward the overhang. “Well, I’m still here and so are you. I think you already know the answer.”

She’s right. That lion, Kiza — there’s no one else he can count on. “He’s going to die if I don’t do something,” murmured Kopa.

To his relief, Kumi nodded. “Whatever this Duara Vunja wants with my pride, he’s just a kid who was following orders. He deserves a chance.”

“Then you’ve got a good heart too, Kumi,” he told her.

She smiled secretively. “Maybe. I’ll make sure Sajin tells me what this Janga’s endgame is. I won’t have another chance once they learn who I am.”

Kopa was about to keep digging when Kumi held out a paw to stop him. He looked up to see her staring into the mouth of the cave as she took a few steps forward. “It’s okay, you can come out,” she said.

To his astonishment, one of the boulders lying inside suddenly shifted, rising up on four thick stumps that Kopa realized were legs. Out of the cave plodded an adolescent hippo, albeit one who was already comparable in size to them both. However, the sheepish smile he wore quickly assuaged Kopa of any concerns about whether or not he was a threat. “You knew I was there the whole time?” asked the hippo. As he turned toward Kumi, Kopa was fascinated to see the marking of a tree-shaped lion head on his shoulder.

“No,” admitted Kumi. “I saw that some of the snowflowers had been freshly picked. And the winds up here erase tracks from the snow very quickly, but I did notice those.”

Kopa followed her gaze as she indicated some faint markings on the floor outside the mouth of the cave. He examined them more closely and saw that they were frozen hippo tracks, barely visible against the stone surface.

“Poa,” the hippo said, impressed. “You’re very perceptive.”

She peered past his shoulder into the cave. “You’ve got snowflowers in there. Do you need them urgently?”

“No, they’re for emergencies,” he said earnestly. “Why, do you?”

Kumi nodded. “We’re trying to save a life. He’s not much older than my youngest boy and he’s running out of time.”

Without hesitation, the hippo stepped aside, making room for them to pass. “Take them all. I can find more.”

Kopa blinked. “Are you sure?”

The hippo gave a heartfelt smile. “I’m sure. Go save your friend. Just don’t tell anyone you saw me, please?”

Kumi smiled back. “Asante. You’re a kind soul, hippo.”

•••

Siri opened her eyes to feel a light drizzle patter against her face. She sat up and took in her fog-blanketed surroundings, filling her lungs with cool, clean air. The sky had faded to a sullen grey as the afternoon gave way to dusk, but she didn’t mind one bit. Rainstorms had a way of frequently finding their way to Mount Tempest, which helped to maintain its massive supply of clean water. And with the precipitation to conceal her scent, her mind was just a little more at ease as the gentle downpour cocooned her from the rest of the world.

Not far from the trees under which she slept, Tumaini was perched atop a large slanted rock. His mane ruffled in the wind as he stared pensively into the mist, poised almost completely still save for his breathing. Slowly, Siri got up and walked toward him, tentatively testing her weight as she did so; in the last couple of days, she had been able to remove the leaves from all her paws except one, and aside from a slight twinge in the afflicted paw, she found that she was able to at least move on her own again.

Tumaini did not turn his gaze, though the slight twitch of his ear indicated that he had noticed her approach. “Sleep well?”

“Better than yesterday,” replied Siri. “Sorry for holding us up, I know we shouldn’t be stopping right now.”

He shrugged. “You needed your rest, and it’s easier for me to keep watch during the day anyway.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

“It’s nothing,” he said shortly. “Kopa used to have night terrors all the time.”

The wind intensified, prompting Siri to turn her head to one side. Tumaini shook some rain out of his eyes.

“You’re looking for him, aren’t you?” she surmised.

He wrung his paws fretfully. “I should’ve left him some signs while I was covering our tracks. There was time, I know there was.”

“You’re not always going to think of everything, Tumaini. You’ll have to trust him to find his own way to us.”

“I’ll believe it when I see him,” Tumaini muttered. “You ready to keep moving?”

Siri nodded. The black-maned lion hopped down from his perch to take his usual position next to her, and she smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay, I can manage on my own.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve been hurt worse before. I know my limits.”

Tumaini watched her gingerly take a few more steps before he started walking beside her, still eyeing her slightly uneven steps every now and then. “How are you holding up?”

“I told you, I can walk fine,” she said.

“No, I mean... you were talking in your sleep again. Crying out.”

Siri fell silent for a moment as they continued walking. “What your friends did for me... I can’t stop picturing it when I close my eyes.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he told her softly, though his voice broke a little at the end.

“That doesn’t change what happened, does it? I’m so sorry, Tumaini.”

Tumaini set his jaw firmly. “Listen, you were clear about the risks before I made the call. That’s for me to live with, okay? Not you.”

“We both do, and we have to make it count,” she growled. “For your friends and mine. My pride needs to know what they’re up against — and so does King Simba.”

“Leave the last part to me,” he reassured. “It’s been a while, but I’ve been to the border of the Serengeti Pride Lands before.”

“They just call it ‘The Pride Lands’ there.”

“How egocentric of them. Do you know how many prides there are between here and the Serengeti?”

“Six.”

Tumaini stopped walking to stare at her blinkingly.

Siri grinned. “You didn’t know that, did you?”

“You said you weren’t familiar with the mountains,” he muttered, falling back into step with her.

“I’m not,” she responded. “My parents and I would pass through but we’d never stay long. Dad said the mountains were too unpredictable.”

“He was right. Not everyone around here takes kindly to strangers.”

“I guess that’s why Janga wanted Mount Tempest. The pass would have given her a direct route through the mountain range.”

Tumaini raised an eyebrow. “‘Would have’?”

“Someone, and I have a good guess who, dumped a bunch of rocks from the mountain onto the pass,” Siri recalled, her gaze hovering on a tall bush she was walking past. “And then the earthquake happened, which should get you all the time you need to reach the Serengeti with—” Without warning, she thrust a paw into the bush and hauled out a squirming adult honey badger by the scruff. “I thought I smelled someth—ow!” She dropped the stocky creature, who had unfastened a wooden stave from around his waist and whacked her on the paw with it.

The honey badger landed on his hind legs, wiggling his stubby snout at her in annoyance. “Why’d you have to do that? I wasn’t supposed to let anyone see me!”

“And why’s that?” asked Tumaini, holding out a paw to stop Siri as she moved to retaliate.

“Can’t tell ya,” the honey badger said nonchalantly. “Top-secret stuff, hence the sneaking—”

Siri spotted the tree and lion head sigil on his shoulder, and her mouth dropped. “You’re with the Night Pride.”

“How’d you know that?” he blurted, hands tightening around his stave. “Uh, I mean...”

“I’ve been to the Tree of Life a long time ago,” she murmured, reflecting on that distant period of her cubhood. “I didn’t know they let honey badgers onto the Night Pride now.”

The honey badger straightened proudly. “Well, normally they don’t. But my friends and I used to be the Lion Guard, so—”

“The Lion Guard!” exclaimed Siri. “So you’re from the Serengeti Pride Lands?”

“We just call it ‘The Pride Lands’, actually,” he said.

“That’s a yes,” deadpanned Tumaini.

Siri gave him an admonishing nudge. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“It’s a long story,” admitted the honey badger, rubbing his head ruefully, “and honestly we got a little sidetracked. You’re better off asking Kion once I find him.”

“There’s no time to go running in circles,” Tumaini said firmly. To Siri, he reminded, “We still have to get you to Mount Kilimanjaro.”

“What about him?” asked Siri, indicating the honey badger.

“Yeah, what about me?”

Tumaini thought for a moment. “Are you heading for the Serengeti by chance?”

“Well, no,” responded the honey badger. “The plan was to find our friend Anga since we haven’t heard from her in a while. But who knows, maybe this is an emergency and we really should tell Simba what’s going on. I’ll have to ask Kion.”

“Could you bring this Kion a message for us?” the black-maned lion inquired. “We could use some help if he’s willing to lend it.”

“Course, we never say no to helping people. What should I tell him?”

Tumaini looked to Siri, who nodded in approval. She took a moment to collect her thoughts before clearing her throat. “It started four nights ago, when my pride was attacked by invaders...”

•••

Ono quickly decided he did not like the look of the lions he was observing in the canyon below. He took in their features the best he could, committing them to memory in the fading light. They had yet to notice him, but in adulthood Ono was no longer as diminutive as he used to be, and he certainly wasn’t eager to take unnecessary risks by watching them for longer than he had to. But until I find out who they are, here I am.

Evening was now drawing near, and still the lions toiled away, depositing rock after rock into the crevice with unsettlingly little commotion. The egret stretched his canvas-like wings out to make another wide circle over them, listening through the rush of the wind for whatever he could make out. Although his now-healed eyesight was no longer as acute as it once was, his ears were still as discerning as ever.

Unfortunately, the lions hadn’t said a word since he found them, leaving him without so much as a name to put to a face. But that grey one... I have a feeling about her. Ono’s gaze lingered on the crafty-looking lioness at the front of the group; the calculating silver eyes, the swift noiselessness with which she moved, the way the others followed her lead without question — he would bet his tail feathers she was instrumental in what was happening.

Ono’s attention was drawn by a lanky yellow form lurking a ways down the canyon from the mysterious lions. He immediately identified it as Fuli, who was looking straight up and waving at him with the Night Pride’s “regroup” signal. The egret peeled off from his trajectory and swooped into a downspiral, gliding smoothly toward the ground before landing with barely a rustle. “You see them too, huh?” he remarked.

“See is about it,” grumbled Fuli. “Not a very talkative bunch, are they?”

“Haven’t heard a peep. Anything on the marks you’ve been following?”

“Yeah, it turns out Malka’s a king. Sounds like they came from a place called ‘Mount Tempest’.”

“Rani didn’t mention a kingdom around here,” contemplated Ono. “She’s usually very specific about those things. Are you sure you heard right?”

“Positive,” she replied. “I’ve been made though, so I had to run.”

He frowned, troubled by the news. “It’s not like kingdom lions to be unfriendly. Something must be wrong.”

“You’re telling me. They thought I was with some animals who had a territorial dispute with them.”

Something occurred to Ono just then. “This could be why we still haven’t heard back from Anga.”

“You think so?” asked Fuli dubiously.

“I’ll need more details before I can be sure, but yeah, I have a hunch about this.”

“A hunch? That’s not like you, Ono.”

The egret gave a strained smile. “I might be leaning a little toward irrationality right now. Nirmala says I do that when I worry.”

“Anga can take care of herself,” she told him resolutely, though he saw the tightening around her brow. “We gotta focus on what’s in front of us right now.”

Ono peered at the lions in the distance once more. They were now scaling the canyon walls, slipping out of view one by one. It looked as if they had finished or given up on whatever it was they were doing.

“What’s going on?” asked Fuli, squinting into the darkness. “Why have they gone quiet?”

Ono craned his neck incredulously. “They’re... leaving? But why would they make all that effort only to—” Realization dawned on him and he gasped, “Hapana. The barricade’s a trap. Those other lions are gonna walk right into it.”

He made to take off when Fuli’s paw closed around his beak. “Hold it, Ono,” she hissed. “Those lions tried to kill me just now, so maybe let’s not go straight to them until we have the facts.”

“We don’t leave people in danger, Fuli,” said Ono firmly, his voice muffled around her paw.

“We won’t.” Fuli let go of his beak and straightened. “It’s time to report in. Kion’s gonna want to know about this.”

This was never in the job description, thought Ono, annoyed despite the gravity of the situation. It was infinitely more difficult for them to do what they did best while having to avoid getting involved. If I’m right about this, then staying hidden isn’t going to be an option for much longer.

I just hope Kion makes the right call before it’s too late. He hasn’t been the same since Anga disappeared.

•••

Evening had descended by the time Kopa and Kumi made it back down to the lowlands. Once again he found himself drenched and shivering, although he put it out of his mind as they hurried back to the knoll where Kiza laid. The charcoal lion’s breathing had become noticeably more laboured, and there was a faint whistling noise coming from the hole in his side every time he tried to draw breath.

Sajin was following Taya’s instructions as quickly as she was giving them. “Get more yellow moss,” she said. “We need to apply a compress.”

He grabbed a pawful of moss from a nearby pile and hurried to comply. Kiza grabbed the older lion’s foreleg and managed to gasp a few words. “No, stop, stop... I can’t...” He made a choking sound and coughed violently, spraying blood violently.

Sajin gave Taya an uncertain look. She gave Kiza a gentle but rueful pat. “Sorry, Kiza. We have to keep your temperature up or you won’t last the night.” She saw Kopa and Kumi approach, vines clutched in their mouths, and motioned for them to set them down. “Sajin, start thawing those out. Just don’t sit on them or anything.”

Kopa deposited his vines next to Kumi’s, and Sajin immediately placed them under his forelegs to warm them. Seeing Kumi grab one of the already thawed snowflowers, Kopa hurried to help her as she used one claw to puncture the pods one by one. He did the same, and a fluffy snow-like foam seeped out from the pods.

The two of them passed their vines to Taya, who expediently administered the foam onto the ghastly wound in Kiza’s side. “Take a deep breath, Kiza,” the sandy-furred lioness instructed. “Just like earlier.”

Kiza let out a long, gurgling gasp as the porous foam covered his punctured lung, re-inflating it as the foam was drawn further into his body. When he exhaled, Kopa noticed that the foam was now a bright crimson. Taya quickly wiped it away, spreading dark stains across her paws and Kiza’s fur.

“Keep it coming,” Kumi told Kopa, already popping more pods. “We need to draw the blood out of his lung before we can seal the wound.”

As they worked, Kopa found he could not avert his gaze from Kiza, who was focusing on breathing and not much else. The charcoal lion’s expression was tense with agony, but he managed to return Kopa’s gaze. It was a curious thing, to see someone his age devoted to Janga’s cause. And yet he could see none of the viciousness Jeraha had exuded so flagrantly.

Once Kopa and Kumi used up the first batch of snowflowers, Sajin began passing them the vines he was still warming. The foam was a little stiff and a lot less abundant in their half-thawed state, but fortunately the hippo had provided them with plenty to use. Eventually Kiza’s breathing began to even out, and with what sounded like a sigh of relief, his head lolled to the side as he slipped into unconsciousness. A sizable pawful of snowflower foam sat nestled in his side, now almost colourless save for a tinge of red around the edges.

Kumi slumped back at last, using the grass to wipe the bloody foam off her paws. Sajin got up, leaving the remaining snowflowers to thaw on their own. “Is he stable?” he asked.

Taya tossed aside the expended vine she was holding, its pods deflated and oozing traces of foam. “Yeah, but we need to keep him warm. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“There’s plenty of ginger growing in these mountains,” Kumi told her. “Pick some for him to chew on and it’ll hold him over till morning.”

“I’m on it,” said Taya briskly. She dashed off without question.

Kumi stood up, having regained her breath. “Now Sajin, it’s my turn to ask something of you.”

“Name it,” Sajin said. “What do you need?”

“Information. What are you doing here, really?”

The russet lion sighed. “It’s complicated. Time isn’t on our side, so we took some drastic measures.”

Her eyes were fixed beadily on him. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I know. I’m curious as to what it might be to you.”

“I’m someone who doesn’t want a war in these mountains,” Kumi responded. “So talk.”

Sajin turned his gaze to Kopa. “And how about you? What did you want out of this?”

“I didn’t—” Kopa faltered. “It was the right thing to do.”

“And I’m thankful, but I get the sense you know more than you’re letting on as well.”

“You’re stalling until Taya returns,” Kumi remarked. “Rest assured, she will have to go some distance before she finds any ginger.”

“You sent her off on purpose,” realized Sajin.

Kumi scoffed as she strode over to Kiza’s prone form. “Of course I did. So tell me what I want to know...” She unsheathed one claw and held it against Kiza’s throat. Kopa froze, while Sajin bared his teeth. “...and you’ll have saved his life twice tonight. Sound fair to you?”

“Kumi?” croaked Kopa. “What are you doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like, kid,” she said, stone-faced.

Sajin sputtered in indignation. “You just saved him, and now you’d...?”

“Yes, I would,” she growled. “For his sake, you’d better not doubt me.”

Kopa took a step forward. “Kumi, come on. There’s gotta be another way.”

“This is what war looks like. They never gave my pride a chance.”

“Your pride?” repeated Sajin.

“You said you didn’t want a war in these mountains,” Kopa reminded her vigorously.

Kumi made a derisive noise. “Weren’t you listening? War’s already here.” She looked back to Sajin, pressing her claw harder against Kiza’s throat. “Now spill, or I will.”

He bound forward involuntarily. “Okay, stop! We’re the Duara Vunja. Our target is Pride Rock.”

“We know that part,” Kopa said. “What’s your leader planning to do once she’s there?”

Sajin held his gaze on Kiza, but his voice held steady. “She wants to convince Simba to end his reign peacefully.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” scowled Kumi, “seeing as she didn’t show me the same courtesy.”

“You... you’re the Queen of the Mtera Pride?” The russet lion took a few steps back.

She smiled, although it was more teeth than anything. “Yep. It’s your lucky day.”

Kopa edged closer to Kumi, doing his best to maintain a placating tone. “Okay, he answered your question. Now step away.”

“Remember I’m on your side, Kopa,” she said shortly.

“Are you?” he challenged.

“You helped Siri, right? I’m guessing that didn’t come without consequences.”

At this, Kopa dropped his gaze. “It didn’t.”

“Then you know what we’re up against.”

“But I don’t know about you.” His eyes shot up to meet hers again. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About how Kiza deserves a chance?”

At last, he saw a flicker of doubt appear in Kumi’s amber eyes. “Yes.”

“Then show me I can trust you,” Kopa implored. “Let him go.”

The ochre lioness did not budge.

He gave a frustrated growl. “This isn’t gonna help you win. You know that.”

Slowly, warily, Kumi backed away from Kiza with her paws raised away from him. Kopa breathed a sigh of relief — and then Sajin leaped at her.

Kopa immediately darted forward, tackling the older lion from the flank to hold him down. He saw Kumi bare her teeth, ready to fight, and shouted, “No, just run!”

She paid him no heed, stepping closer with her claws out. As Kopa’s mind raced, trying to think of a way to maintain control of the situation, Kumi halted as the sound of rapidly approaching pawsteps was heard.

Sajin stopped struggling as well. “Taya,” he murmured.

“Leave, now!” Kopa barked at Kumi. “I won’t help you fight them!”

She growled but did not take another step, instead turning and sprinting off into the mountains. Taya appeared a moment later, the ginger dropping from her jaws as she took in the scene with confoundment. “Zuberi’s mane, what did I miss?”

Kopa finally let go of Sajin and rose to his paws again. “If you’re thinking of trying that with me, you’d better do it now,” he snarled. “Because the next time we meet, we will be enemies. Do you hear me?”

The russet lion looked strangely distracted. “You smell like... her.”

Kopa frowned, not having expected this reaction. “What?”

“Your scent,” Sajin muttered, nose twitching in his direction. “It’s remarkably similar to someone I once knew.”

“Whose scent?” urged Kopa. “Who are you talking about?”

The older lion looked him up and down in bewilderment. “Nala. The Queen of the Pride Lands.”

Kopa’s eyes widened. His voice dropped to a hush as he tried to contain himself. “Tell me what she looks like.”

“She’s strong, sturdy. Light tawny fur, the colour of desert sand.”

His pulse quickened. The lioness in the savanna? Only way to know for sure... “What colour are her eyes?”

Sajin thought for a moment. “Somewhere between green and blue, like the ocean under the sun.”

Kopa staggered back, stunned by the realization of what this meant. Simba. Nala. Yes, that sounds right... right? That means... I’m... the crown prince. I’m a prince? His eyes darted to Sajin and Taya, and in that moment every instinct screamed at him to run.

“Let me get this straight,” said Taya in astonishment. “You’re Nala’s kid?”

He backed away from her, eyes darting erratically between her and Sajin. The russet lion, who looked rather astounded himself, managed to utter, “Kopa, wait, we won’t—”

And then Kopa bolted off, a fresh deluge of urgency pounding against his consciousness. His paws moved in tandem as if of their own accord, and even with the faintly nagging reminder that he did not know how to get to the Serengeti on his own, he sprinted on through the lowlands unflaggingly.

“The river once brought you to us, and now it must guide you home.”

That was it. If he could find his way back to the Zuberi River, then all he would have to do was follow it home. Once again the cream-furred lioness materialized from his memory, and then a strange sense of clarity cut through his frenetic thoughts upon picturing the face that he now knew as Nala’s.

Chapter Text

Calling to the night, to dream again in the light,
Waiting for a storm to rise, feel the isolation fleeting.
Calling to the night, to be or not to be fighting here,
Leaving without you, leaving my soul behind.
But the heart will remain as a silhouette of time,
Hear the ringing echoes in the splitting horizon.
—Natasha Farrow, “Calling to the Night”

Simba was jolted awake by the sensation of the ground tilting beneath him. Craning his neck, he was surprised to discover everyone else was still asleep, and wondered if he had simply been dreaming. Wouldn’t surprise me, he thought, slowly laying his head back down next to Nala’s. Like that feeling when you close your eyes and suddenly think you’re falling—

He had barely settled back into a comfortable position when an even more pronounced tremor rocked the den, startling several lions into wakefulness and confirming Simba was definitely not imagining things. Among the first to rise was Nala, who manoeuvred her way through the lions crowding around the exit and peered outside. “What was that? Another earthquake?”

“No,” responded Sarabi. “No one’s having any reactions, but... we shouldn’t stay in here. Not unless we can be sure it’s safe.”

Simba barked a sharp roar to rouse the still-sleeping lions. “Everyone, out of the den! Quickly!”

The remainder of the pride promptly roused themselves and rose to join the others outside. Simba took one last look around in hopes of spotting some clue as to what was going on. The ground tipped once again, in the same direction it had before, and with all haste the king hurried out after the others.

As Simba turned around the corner, he almost bumped into Tamika, who gave a startled yelp but quickly regained her wits. “Sorry, Your Majesty. I need help evacuating the recovery den. There are a few patients who can’t move on their own.”

Kasi popped out from beneath the promontory. “We’re on it,” she volunteered, indicating herself and Imara.

“I can help too,” called Kovu from below, already outside the entrance to the recovery den.

Wasting no time on chatter, Tamika rushed back down the side of Pride Rock; Kasi and Imara did the same, and they swiftly followed Kovu into the recovery den. Simba stopped to check one more time that the royal den was empty before making his way down the opposite side.

Nala, who had brought the pride a safe distance away from Pride Rock, was intently weaving her way toward him into the grassy savanna. Though she didn’t say a word, Simba could tell she wanted to speak with him away from the others, and waited for her to brush past him before following her back toward Pride Rock.

As the king and queen wandered out of earshot of the others, a shower of stones sprinkled down before them. Nala peered up at the promontory in consternation. “I’ll take a team into the Nandembo Caverns. See what’s causing the commotion.”

“Half those tunnels must be either collapsed or flooded,” Simba said pointedly. He was beginning to wonder if they had been too heedless to send Vitani off immediately after a crisis.

“I didn’t say it was gonna be easy,” said Nala grimly, turning to look him dead in the eye. “I’ll need someone who knows their way around.”

I had a feeling. He let out a slow, heavy exhale. “You really think he’ll want to go down there right now?”

“No,” she admitted in resignation. “But what choice do we have?”

No kidding. Sometimes I wonder why I ever wanted to be king. Simba yawned, though it came out more like an exhausted groan. “I’ll go talk to him.” Seeing Sarabi nearby, he called, “Mom? Could you bring the pride somewhere out of the wind?”

“No problem,” she affirmed. “Follow me, everyone.”

As Nala began calling out the names of her team, the rest of the pride shuffled off, leaving Simba alone to attend to his task. He cast his gaze skyward in a silent plea to the heavens, already knowing how this was about to go.

•••

It was well into the night by the time Kopa entered the vast stretch of canyons beyond the mountainous lowlands. The hardy patches of dirt gave way to stone, and what little moisture they retained was almost entirely absent from the soil now. Still sprinting as fast as he could, he weaved through an array of columns lined with red-brown striations, mostly relying on his night vision to navigate the changing terrain.

Once again Simba and Nala’s faces materialized in his mind, causing him to growl in vexation. It’s always that same memory. I thought I’d remember more once I learned their names. For a moment he wondered if he should have asked Sajin more, but dismissed the idea with a shake of the head. There’s no way I would’ve stuck around, especially not now that he knows who I am.

Do I though? I certainly don’t feel like a prince... or even know what it’s supposed to feel like. At last Kopa slowed to a trot. It was now the third night since he had been separated from Tumaini, and at the moment he was really missing his friend’s congenial presence. If I can’t find him or Siri, then I’ll have to wait for him in the Serengeti. It was going to take a lot of guesswork to get through the canyons without being turned around, but he had to try.

“Took you long enough.”

He jumped at the sound of Kumi’s voice. He whirled about to see her perched atop one of the stone columns he had just walked by, and she promptly leaped down, digging her claws into the side of an adjacent column to slow her descent. Kopa fixed her with a wary look. “Long enough for what?”

“To catch up, of course,” she replied breezily. “I want to talk, now that it’s just the two of us.”

Kopa unsheathed his claws the moment she took a step toward him. “Stay where you are,” he warned, even as he stumbled back involuntarily.

A puzzled look crossed Kumi’s expression. “Relax, Kopa, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then don’t come any closer.”

“I thought we already did the trust exercise back there,” she said wryly, jerking her head in the direction from which he came.

“Well, I don’t trust you,” growled Kopa. “I just said whatever it took to get your claws away from that lion.”

“Smart kid. But I was bluffing, I wouldn’t have hurt him.”

“Then how come you didn’t let him go until I made you?”

She rolled her eyes, which he found irritating in an oddly familiar way. “You made me, yeah, okay. I knew Sajin would attack me the moment I did.” The ochre lioness seemed even more amused by his skeptical demeanour. “It’s all in the eyes, Kopa, you’ll learn someday. Now come on, this way.”

Kopa did not move as Kumi headed deeper into the canyon.

She stopped after a few paces and glanced over her shoulder exasperatedly. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s go.”

He remained where he was, still eyeing her with suspicion. “Why are you all alone, if you’re the Queen of Mount Tempest?”

“I can take care of myself,” she told him with a noncommittal shrug.

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

Kumi exhaled irritably. “Fine, I suppose I can trust you if Siri does. My pride was in a bad way, even before Janga attacked. I haven’t asked them to do anything for me in a long time, truth be told.”

Seems like she’s being honest. Can’t be too sure though. “Where were you headed before you turned back?”

“The Serengeti Pride Lands.” She saw his look of surprise before he could hide it, and added, “You want to know more, you’d better follow me.”

Kopa hesitated as Kumi started walking away. She couldn’t have known I was going there too. At least, not until now. He quickly bound into a jog to catch up. “Are you gonna warn them about Janga?”

She nodded. “And because I’ll need help taking back my home.”

“Did you know she was coming?”

“No. I was expecting someone else. But it sounds like my pride was caught outside Mount Tempest when it happened. If I had been there...” Rage flickered in her amber eyes.

“And now you’re turning around again?” Kopa scoffed. “Don’t you think you’re a little at odds with yourself?”

“I...” At last Kumi faltered, the fire vanishing from her eyes. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it. Rationally speaking, I should be running for the Serengeti as fast as I can right now.”

Seeing her slow her pace, he did the same. “So why aren’t you?”

The ochre lioness contemplated her answer for a long stretch of silence. He waited insistently as they walked, and at last she murmured, “I don’t know if I’m ready to face him.”

“Who, King Simba?”

“No. My son.”

Kopa raised an eyebrow. “So you do have a son? You weren’t lying about that?”

“I don’t ever lie to people,” growled Kumi. “It’s one of the reasons I’m not very popular with my pride.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they’d love you otherwise.”

She shot him an abrasive look in response. “Don’t push your luck, kid.”

“Well, if you want my kingdom’s help, then you’re gonna have to put up with me,” Kopa responded cheekily.

Kumi abruptly stopped in her tracks. “Your kingdom?”

“My parents are the king and queen,” he disclosed, coming to a halt as well. “At least, I’m pretty sure.”

“You’re pretty sure,” she repeated. “That’s the second time you’ve said something like that.”

“It’s a long story,” admitted Kopa.

“Same story as how you got those scars?”

He instinctively shirked away. “I really don’t think I want to tell you.”

“That’s okay, I already put it together.” Kumi shrugged. “This could be a good omen, you know. Maybe we can help each other face our fears in the Serengeti.”

“I have nothing to fear,” scowled Kopa.

The ochre lioness gave a cynical snort. “Sure you don’t. Doesn’t look like fate’s been kind to you so far.” She began walking again, although she took no more than a couple steps before noticing that he was standing still again. “Oh, don’t tell me we’re back to this. What now?”

Kopa’s mind was reeling, though it wasn’t from her words. A memory had burst into his consciousness, something that flooded out from the prickling familiarity that permeated Kumi’s being. His voice fell quiet. “Your son... his name is Afua, isn’t it?”

Kumi’s jaw dropped, answering his question even before she spoke. “You... you mean... you knew my son? You’ve seen him? What do you remember?” Her voice rose urgently.

He mentally sifted through the less immediate details, brow tightening as he tried to piece it together. “There weren’t many cubs around at the time, but he’s the only one who fits your story. It... hasn’t all come back to me though...”

She took a seat across from him and gestured for him to do the same. “Tell me as much as you can manage. Don’t leave out anything, not even the small details.”

•••

Y280 / 10TH MOON, DAY 17
3+ YEARS AGO

“I see,” mused Kia, regarding the pair of lion cubs sitting before the end of his crinkled trunk. “And what is it you expect me to do about it, pipsqueaks?”

“Challenge Kesho,” Kopa said confidently. “He’ll take one look at you and forfeit.”

The elephant made a low grumbling noise at this, shifting so that he was a little more comfortable in his self-made jungle nest. “But I don’t want to be king. I like things the way they are.”

Kopa stamped his paw against the ground. “How can you say that? The Pridelanders need our help!”

“You lions live such short lives,” said Kia nonchalantly. “Kings come and go all the time, but the Circle of Life always rights itself in the end. This will be no different.”

Kopa noticed Afua shifting uncomfortably beside him, but his friend did not speak up. With a determined huff, the prince turned forward again and declared, “Fine. Then I guess I’ll tell the herds to come here.”

Kia’s serene demeanour evaporated immediately. “You’ll what?”

“‘While others search for what they can take, a true king searches for what he can give’,” recited Kopa boldly. “That’s what my dad taught me, and I’m not gonna let him down. I can’t save the Pride Lands on my own, but I’m the prince and it’s my duty to save my people. So what’s it going to be?”

Silence fell between them. Kopa stared up at Kia without falter, holding his diminutive features in the sternest scowl he could manage. To his annoyance, Afua did not back him up or even scowl with him.

Finally, Kia bleated out what sounded like a sigh of resignation through his trunk. “Okay, pipsqueak, you win. But I’m not challenging the cheetah. I like my peace and quiet too much to give it all up.”

Kopa thought about this for a moment. “Deal. You don’t even gotta hurt him, just scare him a little. Let’s go!”

“Don’t get too excited yet, there’s still a problem. How am I supposed to get to Pride Rock without being spotted? From what you just described, Fisi has his hyenas watching the borders.”

“My friend Afua knows a way. Right, Afua?” Kopa turned to look at his friend, and faltered upon seeing his uncertain expression.

Afua did not turn to look him in the eye. “Can I talk to you alone?”

Puzzled, Kopa wordlessly followed Afua into the denser part of the jungle, looking back to make sure Kia wasn’t eavesdropping. The elephant was settling back into his resting spot, looking indifferent to all else.

Afua stopped once they were out of hearing range, though he only stared into the shrubbery. Kopa gave him a nudge. “What’s the matter?”

His friend did not respond.

“Afua, we can finally go back,” Kopa reminded him. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“It is, it’s just...” Afua fell silent again, his expression a mix of conflicting emotions.

Kopa exhaled through his nose, putting on a look of understanding he had a lot of practice wearing. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

Afua fidgeted with the tuft of black fur growing atop his head, mismatched eyes flitting about anxiously. “What if things are better off this way?”

“Better off? How?” demanded Kopa, baffled.

“There’s plenty of food here,” his friend pointed out, “and the jungle is big enough for the whole pride.”

“But... it’s not home.”

Afua’s gaze finally snapped up to meet Kopa’s, clouded right eye affixed on him as sharply as the working one. “You know what, Kopa? Maybe you should think about what you do have for a change.”

Kopa stiffened at the outburst. “What’s your problem?”

“Just cause you’re Prince of the Pride Lands doesn’t mean anything you say goes,” his friend said heatedly. “Why should a lion rule the kingdom?”

“Afua, the cheetah forced us out!” Kopa exclaimed.

“I know you’ve been thinking it too, you asked your dad the same question!”

“And look where it got us!”

Almost nose-to-nose, the two cubs stared each other down with their teeth bared. Kopa didn’t know or care where this was coming from, all he knew was that he wanted to say something that would hurt Afua. Of course you don’t get it. You’re not a real Pridelander, you’re just pretending to be one. The words stopped in his throat when he saw the other cub’s expression soften.

“I’m sorry, Kopa,” whispered Afua, stricken. “I shouldn’t have... I dunno why...” His eyes began darting about once more while his breathing quickened erratically.

Kopa rested his friend’s forehead against his own, all anger instantly evaporated. “Hey, forget it,” he said softly. “Come on, pal, just breathe with me.” He inhaled and exhaled at a steady rhythm until Afua gradually did the same. “You’ve heard the stories about my uncle Scar, right?”

Afua nodded wordlessly.

“My dad doesn’t think he can fix what Scar did to the Pride Lands,” disclosed Kopa. “He says he failed us all.”

Visible sadness entered his friend’s scarred features. “He did?”

Kopa closed his eyes and sighed, now leaning more on Afua than the other way around. “The Pride Lands still need him and mom, and she’s pregnant, so now it’s up to me. I’m not gonna let Kesho ruin things like Scar did.”

Afua was silent once more.

Kopa withdrew and sat back on his haunches, opening his eyes with dogged determination. “My dad is a good king, Afua, I know he is. He just needs to believe in himself again.”

The other cub straightened and gave a stiff nod. “I’ll do it.”

“You will?” said Kopa, taken aback at this sudden assertiveness.

“Your dad saved my life... took me into this pride. I still believe in him.” Afua raised one foreleg and licked the paw pad before holding it out to Kopa. “Go get the grumpy elephant. I’ll show you how to sneak past the hyenas.”

A smile broke forth onto Kopa’s face. He mimicked the gesture, slapping his paw against his friend’s in solidarity. “Asante sana, buddy. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Afua winked with his good eye, finally managing a smile in return. “And you won’t have to. I’ve always got your back, pal.”

•••

Y284 / 1ST MOON, DAY 28
PRESENT DAY

“That’s it, that’s all you remember?” Kumi demanded.

Kopa scowled. “Well, it’s not really up to me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said impatiently. “His eye, what happened to his eye?”

“Not sure,” he muttered, frowning. “Simba — my father — I think he found him like that. I don’t remember how, I just know Afua wasn’t born into my pride.” Seeing her frustrated look, he snapped, “Look, I’m doing my best here. This isn’t exactly convenient for me either.”

“You’re right.” Kumi’s shoulders slumped heavily. “I should be glad I didn’t leave for nothing. But now I’m more nervous about reaching the Serengeti than when I left.”

“Cause you’re afraid Afua won’t want to see you?” he surmised.

“Cause when I look him in the eye, the only thing I’ll see is all the ways I failed him. I already know that.”

Seeing her dejected state, Kopa couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. “Let’s just keep moving. Like you said, we’ll help each other face our fears.”

Kumi fell into step with him once again, now more pensive than anything. “You said you didn’t have anything to fear.”

“I’m afraid my parents will die horrible deaths if they don’t give Janga what she wants,” Kopa said flatly. “Does that make you feel better?”

“No,” admitted the ochre lioness. “But it does make me feel a little less alone right now.”

•••

A cold evening wind howled through the narrow crevice Chumvi huddled in, and in response he pressed his back against the striated stone wall. His umber fur was entangled by splotches of mud that were nearly identical in colour to his overgrown mane, though his mind was on other things at the moment. Sitting across from him, Tembea managed to bark out a short laugh before breaking off with a wince.

Chumvi shot her a quizzical look. “What’s so funny?”

“You look like a very fat leopard,” she snickered, trying not to laugh too hard again.

“Is this really a good time to make jokes?” he muttered, turning so that he was facing away from the wind.

Tembea lightly kicked his footpaw with hers. “It’s the best time to make jokes, you old grouch. At least you can still walk.” She used her right paw to wave her left foreleg limply at him. “My shoulder is killing me right now, but you don’t hear me complaining about it.”

“That’s because it’s your own fault. Fujo told you not to take that shortcut more than once.”

“I’ve used that shortcut a hundred times!”

“Well, it only takes one to go wrong, as you’ve clearly proven.”

She made a disparaging face. “How could I know we were gonna be attacked?”

“Yeah, that’s what the problem was,” he said sarcastically. His expression became serious. “Listen, there’s something I need to do once you’re safe. There’s gotta be others out here still making their way to The Hollow.”

“And then what?” she asked, gingerly sitting up a little.

Chumvi let out a long exhale through his nose. “My old pride, the one I was born into — they don’t know what’s coming for them. But I think I do.”

“Janga and her cronies?”

“And a few others who still follow her,” he affirmed with a nod. “They’re from the same pride as me, at least they were back when I left.”

Tembea frowned. “I got a glimpse of Janga while I was escaping. She’s my age, not yours.”

“That tracks,” he murmured absently. “Most of the other cubs at the time were unruly, but not her. She was one of the quiet ones.”

“That’s how the scary ones start,” she remarked. “You ever thought about going back? Before our pride landed in this mess, I mean.”

“Many times,” admitted Chumvi. “But every time I think I’ve worked up the courage, I start to remember it all over again.” He shook his head in an attempt to chase Zira’s haunting scent from his nostrils, pushing down the nauseous feeling rising in his chest. “She threatened Kula, threatened our unborn cub, I... I did what I had to. I’ve told myself that over and over since I left.”

“Then what is it you’re ashamed of?”

He made a noise that was halfway between a chuckle and a sob. “I’m ashamed that I couldn’t look Kula in the eye after that. Ashamed that I didn’t try harder to find another way. And I’m definitely ashamed that I couldn’t put our cub first like she did, and abandoned them both.”

Tembea shook her head. “What that Zira made you do — despicable doesn’t begin to describe it. You could have refused and it wouldn’t have been selfish at all.”

“I didn’t have any other choice,” he said resignedly.

“Yes, you did,” she asserted. “And you chose to protect your mate and cub the only way you knew how. That’s anything but putting yourself first.”

The affirmation made Chumvi feel just a little lighter, though his mind was far from at ease. His gaze fell. “What if I hate the other kid?” he pondered, moodily fidgeting with a lock of muddy fur on his chest. “What if I take one look at him and all I see is Zira?”

“Then take another look,” Tembea responded simply. “There was another cub, right? A girl?”

“Vitani,” recalled Chumvi, his voice growing quiet. “She had Tojo’s eyes, so Scar knew whose cub she was. Zira claimed Tojo had forced himself on her, and then she... set her sight on me.” He shivered. “She wanted a cub with my mother’s eyes to pass off as Scar’s.”

“Then don’t think of her or Scar when you see the kid. Think of your mother.”

The conversation came to a halt as Chumvi spotted a trio of Janga’s lions appear out of the stone pillars strewn about the open canyon. “It’s them. They must have tracked our scent here.”

“Or maybe they just happen to be here?” suggested Tembea, shimmying in a little farther into the crevice to move out of their line of sight.

“I’m not taking that chance,” said Chumvi firmly, rising to his paws. “Don’t make any noise. I’ll draw them away from here.”

“Chumvi...”

“We’re not gonna outrun them if they find us, Tembea. Stay put, I’ll send help for you if I get away.”

She scowled. “Just don’t be an idiot for my sake.”

Despite himself, Chumvi couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll do my very best.” He quietly slipped out from the crevice, using the nearby pillars to conceal himself until he was far enough away from Tembea. He spotted a vast stretch of badlands to the north and decided to take his chances, reasoning that the disagreeable terrain would be more of a hindrance to his pursuers than to him.

Taking a deep breath, Chumvi leapt out into view and bolted straight for the badlands. He cast a furtive sidelong glance to make sure the enemy lions had spotted him, and sure enough they were now in pursuit, quickly joined by two others. He focused on the badlands opening up before him as he slid down the side of a ridged slope. I won’t fail you this time, Kula. Even if you hate me, I’m not going to let anything else hurt you.

•••

“Any sign of that cheetah?” asked Fika, sniffing around a pair of spindly trees growing out of the inhospitable dirt.

Bidi poked her head out from behind a pile of stones to shoot her an irritable look. “Of course not, it’s a cheetah. They’re probably long gone by now.”

“So are we dead or what? That Nia sounded pretty serious.”

“She’s always serious,” Malka said briskly, walking up to rejoin them with his eyes turned up at the faintly rumbling sky. “Still, we should follow the cheetah’s scent while we have it. Especially before the rain starts coming down.”

Bidi raised an eyebrow. “You’ve sure been taking charge a lot lately.”

He gave her a nonplussed look. “What, is our predicament not dire enough for that?”

“Oh, it’s plenty,” she muttered. “Leaving the kingdom to fend for themselves would’ve done it too, but apparently that wasn’t dire enough for you.”

Fika looked mortified at the other lioness’ words, but she remained silent. Malka looked away with gritted teeth as he continued on the cheetah’s scent. “I can’t blame you for how you feel — either of you. But if I’m going to make it right, then I’m going to need you to trust me.”

“And why should we do that?” challenged Bidi, even as she and Fika followed him.

“Because we’ll have to be careful who we talk to once we reach the Hollow,” Malka muttered. “I have reason to believe there’s a traitor within our pride.”

Fika finally turned to look at him. “I had the same thought, actually.” Noticing the blank stare Bidi gave her, she explained, “Think about it. These lions just so happened to be ready for us when Mount Tempest just so happened to flood? What are the chances?”

“Pretty slim, I guess,” admitted Bidi. “But we don’t know anything for sure—”

“I do,” Malka interjected. “I know Mount Tempest can’t be flooded from the outside, and that someone would need to have extensive knowledge of the water network to deliberately cause the blockage.”

“Which means it could only be a few possible people,” concluded Fika.

A brilliant spindle of light dazzled the night sky not far off, revealing a mass of clouds hovering overhead. “I think I already know who it is,” divulged Malka, lowering his voice. “Kumi.”

A dull crackle of thunder went off above them. Bidi frowned as a steady patter of rain began to come down. “I don’t know...”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to say Fujo,” said Fika.

“Fujo was with us when it happened. I don’t think it’s him.”

“What about that Sight of his?” she pointed out. “Shouldn’t he have been able to see all those lions in the grass?”

Malka dropped his gaze, now feeling more than a bit guilty. “We had an altercation right before it happened. Fujo was trying to warn me of an impending wild dog attack, and we disagreed on how to handle it. His attention was elsewhere when we had to evacuate.”

“And Kumi?” prompted Bidi.

“Kumi left right before the attack started,” Malka growled. “The timing couldn’t have been an accident.”

She looked a bit uncomfortable at this. “I think you should give her a chance to explain herself. If we find her, I mean.”

He snorted. “If I am right about her, then we’re finished. She’d have told Janga everything she knows about our pride. I—” He broke off as they rounded the next bend to find it completely blocked off by rocks.

The others stopped in their tracks as well. Fika sniffed around the obstructed passage and gazed upward. “The cheetah must have scaled the wall. No way we’re gonna be able to follow.”

Bidi was eyeing the rocks in bewilderment. “How did this happen? Was this the earthquake?”

“No, it’s too neat,” said Malka, frowning. “Someone put this here.” He whirled about at the sound of several hefty whumps from behind him, and was greeted by the sight of five lions hopping down from the rocky ledges overhead.

Fika nudged the king and indicated the silver-eyed lioness leading the enemy lions. “That one — Kivuli — she’s bad news,” she murmured.

I remember her from the attack. Malka could see something deeply unsettling in the depths of her stare. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded, even as he backed up with Fika and Bidi pressing closer against him. “What did we ever do to you?”

A smirk appeared on Kivuli’s face, barely visible against her fur in the increasingly heavy downpour. She suddenly cackled uproariously, and Malka flinched as its echoes bounced off the trench walls. “It means no worries, for the rest of your daaaaaays, ” she sang mockingly. “ It’s our problem-free philosophy, hakuna matata...” She trailed off with another snicker. “Have you ever heard that song? You have no idea how much I hate that song.”

“Get to the point,” Malka growled, using aggression to try and conceal how unnerved he was.

Kivuli rolled her eyes. “They said you were no fun. The point is, you sad excuse for a king, you thought you could just leave everyone alone and they would leave you alone.” She closed in ever closer toward them, flanked by two lions on either side. “Now if you think you have anything to live for, then you’d better choose very carefully. Are you walking back to your mountain with us, or are we breaking your legs and carrying you?”

He raised his hackles in response, and so did Fika and Bidi. Another fork of lightning erupted in the pitch-black sky, close enough that its sizzle could be heard over the rain. Kivuli’s gleaming teeth were bared against the night, and with a snarl arising in his throat, Malka leaped at her as the enemy lions advanced to meet him.

The air split with a deafening boom, louder than any thunderclap could produce. All sound was drowned out as a furious gale hurled Malka and his lions against the trench wall. He turned his head away in an attempt to draw breath, eyes watering as he faintly made out the blurred forms of the enemy lions being thrown away from him. To his alarm, he could feel the vibrations of the ground splitting apart through the stone surface pressing against him.

Finally the wind let up, and Malka was sent tumbling back to the ground with the others as the echo roar gradually faded around them. He stumbled to his paws, sputtering as the rain resumed pelting them relentlessly, and peered up through the downpour at the silhouette perched high on an outcropping above. It was difficult to make out, but his first thought was that the figure resembled a lion. Blinking the rainwater from his vision, he squinted more closely at the storm clouds shrouding the moon. Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or do those clouds look like... lions?

“What in Mother Africa...” muttered Bidi breathlessly.

Malka noticed that the figure had vanished from the outcropping, and turned to see what she was looking at. His mouth fell open as his eyes found the long, enormous rift stretching across what was solid ground just moments ago; it was at least ten lions long and extended all the way up the opposite wall.

On the other side of the trench, Kivuli and her lions stumbled to their paws, looking a bit dazed before they beat a hasty retreat. Malka fought back the urge to sob with relief and turned around to face the now-demolished barricade. “We should... we should get out of here.”

“Yeah, preferably before whatever did that roar comes back,” advised Fika, vigorously shaking the rain from her fur even as she quickly became soaked again.

Malka took one last look at where the mysterious figure had vanished. It didn’t look like they were trying to kill us. Still, I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to. He led the others out of the trench and back into the open canyon, wondering how many more times he could outrun death.

•••

Up on a receded ledge, Kion watched as the two groups of lions headed in opposite directions. He had been mulling over everything his team had told him when it turned out Ono’s prediction had been correct — the barricade was indeed a trap intended for Malka’s group. Unfortunately, that doesn’t help me figure out what I should do about it now. The Roar of the Elders had effectively split the two groups up for the time being, but he had no illusions that it would have any lasting effects on whatever drew them into conflict.

Beshte gazed down at the mess of cracked and broken rocks, careful not to shift his enormous body too much. “Good job, Kion,” he piped up, ever the optimist. “You’ve gotten real good with the Roar. But shouldn’t we talk to them?”

There was a time when Kion would have done so without hesitation. But with no real leads on what had caused Anga’s disappearance, he found himself increasingly petrified at the idea of taking any risks with his team. “No,” he muttered, his expression troubled. “Those lions you saw on the mountain, which side were they on?”

“Hard to tell,” admitted Beshte. “It sounded like they were trying to help the other side either way.”

Kion frowned. “If that’s true, then why are they fighting? None of this makes sense.”

“Maybe we should keep searching for Anga,” suggested Ono. “If she knows something about this, then it could save us a lot of time trying to figure it out ourselves.”

“There’s no guarantee we’ll find her in time,” Fuli argued. “I hate to say it, but Anga might have to wait for now.”

Kion clenched his jaw, frustration and panic mounting in him with each passing moment. “You’re right,” he said reluctantly. “We can’t leave anything to chance, not while all this is happening. Fuli, Ono, get back to following your marks. Come straight to me if you hear anything important.”

“Affirmative, Kion,” sighed Ono, ruffling his feathers in preparation to head back into the rain. “And if we’re compromised?”

Kion managed a strained grin. “Pretend you don’t know who they are.”

The egret gulped. “That’s not very reassuring.”

Fuli raised one spotted paw. “Question, where are we going to rendezvous?”

Kion turned away from the trench, fixing his gaze on the canyons as if he could see through the night itself. “The Pride Lands,” he said decisively. “We’ve stumbled on something big, and I’m hoping my parents might know what. Either way, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“You got that right... Your Majesty.”

The others turned as Vitani strode out from the cluster of rocks before them with Bunga at her side. Kion blinked in surprise. “Vitani. It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Kion,” she greeted shortly.

“How did you find us?”

There was a twinkle of amusement in the glib look she wore. “Well, I heard the Roar of the Elders and thought, ‘Hmm, who could that be?’ Good thing I already found the smelly one.”

Bunga gave a small wave. “Got some news you’re gonna wanna hear, boss.”

“Come on, we need to talk,” said Vitani.

Kion gave Fuli and Ono a nod of farewell. “Good luck, you two. See you back at Pride Rock.” As they darted away after their respective targets, Kion followed Vitani away from the ledge with Bunga and Beshte close behind, curious as to what this could be about.

•••

Sitting in an enclosed cavern not far off, Fujo opened his eyes and lifted his paws from the cold stone floor. With the sonic images of Kion and his team fading from the vibrations emanating from the surface, Fujo expediently made his way back outside atop the escarpment overlooking the trench.

He paused to take it in with his own eyes — the gaping rift gouged into the canyon by the Roar of the Elders. Extraordinary. I never thought I’d witness it for myself. The legends certainly don’t do it justice.

As much as he would have liked for Malka to lose this particular fight, he knew it was just as well that the Night Pride had intervened. So Janga wants to take my brother alive, if Kivuli is so intent on it. She must think she can do this without me now. But neither he nor the Duara Vunja had planned for something like this to happen — which was why it was imperative for Fujo to turn the Night Pride firmly against Janga by any means.

My brother’s death can wait a little longer, I suppose, he mused as he probed about with the Sight to find where Kion had gone. It was a bit difficult with the surface constantly being bombarded with millions of raindrops, but there — a hazy projection of someone in the distance that he was fairly certain was the Night Pride leader.

Oddly enough, there was no sign of the rest of his team, but Fujo paused as the lioness with him materialized into the image of not Vitani, but Kumi. Now well and truly intrigued, he turned and headed in their direction instead.

Chapter Text

How deeply are you sleeping or are you still awake?
A good friend told me you’ve been staying out so late.
Be careful, oh, my darling, oh, be careful what it takes,
From what I’ve seen so far, the good ones always seem to break.
—Florence + the Machine, “Sky Full of Song”

Y283 / 1ST MOON, DAY 17
1 YEAR AGO

The gentle lapping of Lake Shangaza’s tide did little to ease Simba’s mind as he trudged past row after row of wounded animals along its shore. Nala kept pace at his side, taking in every detail in stone-cold silence. The two of them hadn’t spoken a word since they had seen Kion off for the Lion Guard’s journey, and even with Scar’s spirit finally vanquished, the relief that Simba anticipated had instead twisted into a sinking, helpless despair. And amidst the cries of the wounded coming from every direction, the persisting silence between him and Nala only made it all the worse.

A nearby rhino roused herself upon noticing the king and queen approach, and she rose to stand to attention. “Your Majesties.”

Simba hastened to usher her down. “Please, you’re hurt. Try not to move.”

“Queen Nala!” cried a gazelle from the opposite row. “My son isn’t here, he must still be in the Outlands! Please tell me you’ll find him!”

“I...” Nala faltered, and the stricken look in her eyes told Simba enough. “I... yes, I’ll send someone right away.” Her jaw trembled as she continued on with him.

Tiifu and Zuri dashed past from behind wearing straw satchels around their shoulders, stuffed to the brim with a haphazard mix of leaves, herbs, and berries. Boga, who was hurrying by in the opposite direction, stopped and craned her neck over the crowd before hollering, “Babu, get over here now! We got two more entering critical condition and Tamika needs you to hold them still!”

“On it, Boga!” Babu expediently weaved his way through the wounded, and as some of the more stable animals shifted to make room for him, Simba’s eyes spotted Afua’s dishevelled, nearly full-grown black mane amidst the injured lions resting or awaiting treatment.

The king barely took a few steps forward when Afua rolled over to peer at him with his mismatched eyes. The younger lion tensed before he stood and began shuffling off.

Nala darted forward in consternation. “Afua, wait! You shouldn’t be getting up!”

“Then go away,” grunted Afua without turning around. His teeth were gritted with every step he took as dark droplets fell from the tips of his mane.

Not sure what else to do, Simba followed him away from the lake with Nala. They hurried to catch up to Afua, who was hobbling over the hill before losing his balance and toppling down the opposite side. Nala ran to him instantly, while Simba followed with a growing weight in his heart.

Afua ripped a pawful of grass from the dirt and batted it at them in frustration. “Why can’t you ever listen?”

“Because distancing myself never solved any of my problems,” said Simba. “You were right, Afua, I never should have let Kion lead the Lion Guard.”

“You really think I needed to hear that?” Afua laughed caustically. “You think I needed to be right?”

Simba’s shoulders slumped heavily. “I needed to say it.”

“Then go ahead and tell the whole kingdom for all I care. Tell them you sent your adolescent son into the Outlands while you sat safe and sound atop Pride Rock.”

“Afua, that’s enough,” said Nala sharply. “Staying behind wasn’t Simba’s idea, it was mine.”

“Yeah, I caught most of your shouting match last night,” Afua snorted. “You’d face Scar so Simba wouldn’t have to again, Kiara’s not ready to be queen, and she can’t become an orphan if the worst happens. Did I miss anything?”

“Yeah,” interjected Simba. “You’re bleeding in five different places and you should not be out here alone.”

Afua’s expression hardened. “I’ve been alone all my life, Simba. I used to think you saved me from that, but when I realized I was wrong... that was the loneliest I ever felt.”

“Afua...” Nala edged toward him, but he shrank away.

“And you, Nala,” growled Afua. “How could you choose me over Kion?”

She sputtered in disbelief. “I didn’t—you were in trouble, Afua! Did you expect me to turn my back on you?”

“I can take care of myself!” he roared. “I knew what I was risking and I chose to fight! Kion didn’t choose this, you did! You sent him into that volcano and you weren’t there when he needed you! You might as well have put that scar on his face yourself!”

Tears sprang into Nala’s eyes. Her face contorted and she rushed away without another word. Simba fought back the lump that rose in his throat upon seeing the hurt and disappointment in Afua’s eyes, and he managed to whisper, “She cares about you, Afua, we both do. That’s never going to change even if it’s what you want.”

“What I want?” Afua seethed. “I thought the world of you. I looked up to you and Nala more than anyone I’ve ever known.” His claws dug into the dirt as his voice threatened to break. “I didn’t need you to admit it to my face, Simba. I needed you to be... to be...”

“I know,” said Simba softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen before. I will now, I promise.”

The younger lion snorted. “That’s a pity, because I got nothing left to say.” He slowly rose to his paws, and bared his teeth when he noticed Simba moving toward him. “And if I were you, I’d keep a closer eye on Kiara. You know, before you let something awful happen to her as well.”

The king watched without a word as Afua hobbled painfully back toward the lake. He wished he could help the lion he had raised like his own, if only to alleviate his own guilt ever so slightly. No. Why shouldn’t I feel guilty? I don’t even know if I’ll ever see Kion again. If I lose him too... Simba squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to entertain the horrifying thought clawing at his mind.

Afua was right. There was no more room for mistakes, not when it came to his children.

•••

Y284 / 1ST MOON, DAY 28
PRESENT DAY

“The tuliza will calm your nerves,” explained Tamika, sliding a shoot of purple blossoms across the dirt with her snout. “Come on, Afua, chew on it and you’ll feel better.”

Afua shook his head stubbornly. “I don’t need tuliza, and my nerves are fine.”

“Your pupils say otherwise,” she disagreed, peering closely at his eyes. “And you have good reason to be on edge, you nearly lost your other eye to a falling rock back there.”

“My other other eye is still attached to my face, Mika,” he scowled.

She scowled back at him. “Only one person gets to call me ‘Mika’, and it isn’t you.”

The two of them fell silent as Simba stepped out of Pride Rock’s long shadow. The king caught the way Afua instantly dropped his gaze, and how Tamika stepped in front of him so that she was not quite standing between them. The orange-furred lioness cleared her throat nervously. “Your Majesty. My patients are not happy about spending the night out here in the open. Please tell me you have a solution.”

“Working on it, yeah.” Simba’s gaze did not leave Afua, despite the younger lion refusing to look at him. “Is it alright if I speak to you alone, Afua?”

Afua peered up from beneath his slightly overgrown mane to stare reproachfully back at him. “Fine.”

“Afua, if you need me to...” began Tamika.

“It’s okay, you should check on the others,” he told her evenly. “I’ll take the tuliza, promise.”

Looking a bit uneasy, Tamika tentatively stepped away. Afua used his teeth to rip a few petals from their stem, chewing slowly with his gaze hovering on the king.

Simba realized that Afua was waiting for him to speak, and asked, “How are you feeling? Headaches giving you any pain right now?”

Afua grunted a vague-sounding “no” through a mouthful of tuliza.

“Good, that’s good. I could use your help, I came to ask you—”

“—to guide a team into the Nandembo Caverns,” Afua finished moodily. “Yeah, I figured you would.” He spat the blossoms into the grass.

Simba blinked. He had almost forgotten how quick Afua was on the uptake. “So you’ll do it?”

“If the King of Pride Rock gives me an order, then I am obligated to obey. Isn’t that right, Simba?”

“That’s...” I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. “That’s not how I want to do this.”

Defiance raged in Afua’s single amber eye, though his voice held even when he spoke. “Well, it’s how you’re gonna have to do this, cause I am done giving you what you want.”

“Then what is it you want from me?” demanded Simba in exasperation. “What do you want to say that we don’t both already know?”

“I told you, I have nothing left to say. I know all I need to know about you at this point.”

“Well, I can’t say the same about you, Afua.”

“That’s not—”

“It’s not fair? No, what I’m asking is more than fair.” A stern edge entered Simba’s voice, and at last the younger lion faltered. “Nala and I, we always wondered where you came from, who your family was. But we didn’t make you tell us. We cared for you like a son knowing you’d never consider us your parents, because it was enough for us that you were loved. And now that our pride needs your help, you’re going to waste valuable time so you can make it about us?”

The glare Afua wore contained more bitterness than anger or resentment. “So that’s what you think of me?”

“I think you’re better than that — no, I know you are,” Simba amended. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I believed anything less.”

“Yeah, you’re always so sure of yourself before the danger happens.” Afua briskly stood up. “Okay, show me where I’m going.”

“Just like that?” Simba asked, taken aback.

“You’re right, it’d be selfish for me to make this personal. The pride will always have my help when they need it, that much I can promise.”

The king let out a breath of relief. “That’s good enough for me. Thank you, Afua.” His voice became sombre as they started walking back toward Pride Rock together. “I know you’re scared of what might happen down there. I wish I could tell you it’s safe, but it isn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Afua. “I do understand the gravity of the situation.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

“No, I don’t see what’s funny about any of this. Those caverns are going to be a nightmare to navigate after the earthquake. But I’m not about to make someone else go in my place.”

“No one knows the caverns like you do,” conceded Simba with a rueful chuckle. “I’ve lost count of how many times you wandered down there, even though I kept telling you not to.”

Despite himself, a hint of a smirk twitched on Afua’s mouth. “You gave up once I proved I’d never get lost. I still don’t know why you didn’t send for me that time you got stuck in those caverns with Bunga.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t subject anyone to rescuing Bunga.”

The two of them shared a chuckle, and for a heartbeat Simba was encouraged upon sensing a shred of the bond they once had. Then Afua drew back into sullen detachment, and Simba was left feeling alone as the moment wilted away.

•••

“So the memories of your old life only come to you in pieces?” asked Kumi, shaking the water from her fur once she stepped into the alcove.

Kopa was wringing the rain out of his mane from across her. “It’s more like every time I recall something specific, a bunch of other stuff comes flooding back with it. Sometimes it’s clear as day, other times it’s just... impressions.”

She opened her mouth, but then stopped herself.

“What?” he asked, settling into a sitting position across from her. The incessant downpour was disrupted by a crash of thunder, signalling that the storm was not quite finished yet.

Kumi did not respond right away. She looked deep in thought as she said, “There might be a way to help with that.”

Kopa sat up sharply. “There is? What is it?”

“Don’t get too excited kid,” she cautioned, waving him down. “I can’t guarantee it’ll work. I don’t even think you can get to it.”

“Tell me, Kumi,” he insisted, undeterred. “Please.”

The ochre lioness sighed. “Alright, but you didn’t hear it from me. There’s a pool atop these mountains called the Memory Spring. You wade in and think of a memory, and the water reveals the person or place you’re thinking of.”

“Can it restore my memories?” His voice dropped to a hush.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “No one’s ever tried something like that, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“It’s gotta be worth checking out though, right? Do you know where it is?”

“That’s the other problem. The Memory Spring is in Nami tribe territory.”

Kopa’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Yeah. The Serengeti’s still your best chance of finding answers. Rumour is that their shaman, Rafiki, can bestow similar properties upon ordinary water. I’d try him if I were you.”

Kopa frowned. The vague impression of a wrinkled, silver-bearded mandrill strained to materialize in his mind’s eye. “I must have heard that name before. Thanks.”

Kumi nodded, looking a little distracted by something. She peered up out of the alcove with a frown. “I know you’re up there. Stop lurking and come out of the rain.”

To Kopa’s surprise, a lithe tan lion noiselessly clambered down from the cliff adjacent to them. He brushed his sopping black mane out of his eyes, but otherwise appeared unbothered by his water-logged condition as he sat down next to Kumi with a wet plop.

“It’s okay, he’s with me,” said Kumi.

“I deduced as much,” the newcomer replied.

She edged away a little as a puddle slowly formed underneath him. “I was talking to my companion. So you don’t scare him off or something.”

He scoffed. “I’m impressed you haven’t done so already.” The lion’s dark brown eyes shifted toward Kopa, almost as impermeable as night itself, and he dipped his head in a small but polite bow. “Prince Fujo of the Mtera Pride, at your service.”

“Err, Prince Kopa,” stammered Kopa. “Of the... Serengeti Pride.”

Fujo raised an eyebrow, his attention briefly flitting back to Kumi. “I don’t understand. How is it you got back from the Serengeti so quickly?”

“I haven’t reached the Serengeti yet,” she clarified. “Neither has he.”

Kopa was a little uncomfortable with the way Fujo was scrutinizing him now, although the older lion displayed no visible emotion as he mused, “Fascinating. It appears I’ve made a mistake.”

“That’s fascinating?” Kopa asked quizzically, not sure what he was talking about.

“No. You are, Prince Kopa. I consider myself fairly well-informed, but I don’t believe I’ve heard of you anywhere. You must tell me everything about yourself.”

“We don’t have time,” interjected Kumi. “As soon as the rain stops, we keep moving.”

Fujo gave her a disapproving look. “Why, Kumi, must you always fight me on this? Details could mean the difference between life and death, which, if I may remind you, is a pressing concern for us all right now.”

“We can continue if you want,” Kopa told Kumi. “I don’t mind the rain.” He wasn’t sure he really wanted to oblige Fujo’s curiosity.

She cast an apologetic glance his way, clearly noticing his wariness. “Neither do I, but that’s not the problem.” She tapped the muddy ground with one paw. “The area ahead gets a lot of mudslides from the badlands nearby when it rains. You get stuck, you can forget about beating Janga to the Serengeti.”

Kopa peered out into the rain, still beating down furiously around their shelter. “Maybe her lions don’t know that? It could slow them up.”

“Or sink them into a horrible death,” she ruminated. “Make things easier for us.”

“I wouldn’t be so optimistic,” cautioned Fujo.

“No, why would you be?” Kumi muttered.

Unfazed, he proceeded to elaborate. “Janga’s lions are quite resourceful. Despite the delays they’ve encountered, I estimate they will capture a third of our remaining numbers.”

“So that’s why you’re still out here?”

Fujo nodded. “I’ve been observing their methods, their measure of discipline — and of course, how quickly they adapt to the unexpected.”

“You just watch?” Kopa said incredulously. “You’re not helping your pride members?”

“I hinder their pursuers when I can get away with it,” the black-maned lion informed him coolly. “Other than that, there isn’t much I can do for them that they aren’t already doing. That’s not how you see things, is it, Prince Kopa?”

“No.”

Fujo nodded, looking pleased with the firmness of this answer. “Good. Then I have a task for you.”

The older lion reached out and slicked back the wet tuft of mane atop Kopa’s head, causing him to flinch in surprise. “Hey!”

“Hold still, please,” said Fujo tersely. Kumi watched in bemusement as he pinched a couple strands of mane between his claws and carefully bent them forward. Satisfied, he leaned back to inspect the results. “Yes, I believe that will do.”

Confounded, Kopa asked, “Are you gonna explain what you’re doing?”

“The rain will let up momentarily,” Fujo informed him. “Follow the moon until you find the Duara Vunja chasing one of my pride members, Chumvi. They’re heading in your direction, so I’m certain you won’t miss them.”

Kumi bound to her paws in a flash. “Great Spirits, and you wait until now to mention this?”

“You will see a silver-eyed lioness leading the others,” the black-maned lion continued, ignoring Kumi’s outburst. “All you have to do is roar at them.”

“Roar?” repeated Kopa, blinking. None of this was making any sense.

“As loud as you can,” affirmed Fujo. “I’m fairly certain it’ll do the trick.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then you’ll be glad she’s with you.” Fujo indicated Kumi.

She gave him a knowing scowl. “Let me guess, you’re not coming?”

“I need to get my eyes back on Janga. She’ll likely reach the Serengeti border in two more days.”

Kopa stood immediately. “Then we’d better get there first.”

“Chumvi once came from the Serengeti,” added Fujo. “He would make a suitable guide for you if that’s where you’re going.”

Just then Kopa noticed that the rain was beginning to recede. How did he know that would happen? As he watched Fujo slink out of the alcove and slip off into the night, Kumi appeared at his side again. The two of them resumed their trek through the canyon, following the moon as instructed. “That was... interesting,” he remarked.

She gave him a rueful smile. “Fujo tends to have that effect on people, but he’s reliable. And he’s half the reason my pride’s lasted as long as it has.”

“Well, we’d better get to this Chumvi before Janga’s lions do,” Kopa remarked. He gestured to the mohawk sticking up from his mane. “Any idea what this is about?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she replied with a shrug. “All I know is there’s always a reason when it comes to Fujo. Don’t worry though, he knows I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“What, can he read minds like he reads the weather?”

Kumi chuckled at this. “Sure seems that way, doesn’t it? You’ll see, he’s clearly eager to learn more about you. If there’s one thing he can’t abide, it’s being the last to know something.”

“Fantastic,” muttered Kopa. “As if I haven’t met enough people who have taken a weird interest in me. I bet Janga’s gonna be thrilled when she finds out who I am.”

The two of them finally reached a short stretch of open canyon, and his eyes caught movement on its other end. A lone lion was dashing along frantically with several others in pursuit, and even from a distance Kopa could tell the lion was showing signs of flagging. There was no way he would make it on his own.

Kumi quickly stretched her legs and shifted into a running stance. “There’s our guide, kid. Let’s move, I’m right behind you.”

•••

A stifling silence permeated the Nandembo Caverns, quickly swallowing up the sound of paws splashing through its flooded passages. While Afua had always found the stillness calming, he noticed that the lionesses following him through the darkness looked visibly rattled by their surroundings.

“Are we sure the water isn’t still rising?” said Tama sharply, her voice nonetheless laden with unease.

“It shouldn’t be,” Kasi responded. “Imara and I finished depressurizing the caverns yesterday.”

“Yeah, and you may have ended up ‘depressurizing’ Pride Rock with it,” muttered the older lioness.

Imara huffed irritably. “That’s not what that means.”

Tama shrugged. “You’re the expert. I just don’t want to get buried down here.”

Afua blanched, having spent the expedition so far trying not to dwell on that exact thought. Kula noticed his reaction and shot Tama a disparaging look. “Don’t listen to her, Afua. You’re doing great.”

“No, she has a point,” Afua murmured, indicating with his head. “Look.”

Up ahead, a large junction came into view, supported on all sides by an array of thick stone columns. Several of them had cracked or broken apart halfway down, and the ceiling overhead had a slight but noticeable tilt on its unsupported side. The floor, which was positioned higher than the connecting corridors, was thankfully devoid of flooding.

Afua came to a stop in the centre of the junction and turned to face the others. “We’re here. Pride Rock is directly above this chamber.”

“Well done, Afua,” said Nala. “Let’s get to work, everyone. Gather as many big rocks as you can, we need to brace the columns on all sides.”

Kula peered around, taking in the extensive damage around them while following Tama away. “The earthquake did all this?”

“Not on its own,” Afua assured her. “Caused a few cracks maybe, but it would’ve taken an aggressive flood to do the rest. Which is why it was important to depressurize the caverns.”

“We can fix more than the columns,” Imara chimed in as she marched off with Kasi. “If we find any rocks that stack evenly, I can use them to prop up the slant in the ceiling too.”

Nala nodded in approval. “Good thinking. Better safe than sorry.”

Seeing that the queen had found a usable chunk of fallen rock, Afua hurried over to help her out. She gave him a nod of appreciation as they strained to push the rock into the junction. Through clenched teeth, she managed to utter, “I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep easy again, knowing these columns are cracked now.”

“Don’t worry,” he grunted, “this isn’t the first time it’s happened.”

Nala’s grip nearly slipped in surprise. “It isn’t?”

“I used to see cracks in these columns years ago. They eventually vanish when the rain trickles enough minerals down here.”

“‘Minerals’?”

“Small bits of rock that the water collects from larger rocks,” he explained.

She made an aghast face. “I didn’t know there were rocks in our water. I’d drink a lot less of it if I did.”

Afua felt a twinge of amusement. “Don’t worry, it’s not harmful. All part of the Circle of Life, remember?”

“Yeah,” she muttered, still looking mildly disturbed. “Strange as it can be at times.”

The two of them slid the rock into the middle of the junction, next to where the others had left theirs. Imara was already pushing back a second boulder on her own, while Kasi sped off to search for more.

“Just how often did you sneak down here?” asked Nala, now leading Afua into another corridor.

“More than you or Simba would have allowed, that’s for sure,” he admitted.

“What about now? We had to take a lot of detours just to get around the collapsed sections.”

Afua shrugged. “The Pride Lands are a big place. I can always find somewhere to be alone.” He spotted another rock and positioned himself behind it.

“But are you okay, Afua?” asked Nala, pushing the rock with him. “Really okay?”

“What makes you think I’m not?” he asked shortly.

“Tamika says you’ve been having nightmares again.”

He scowled and immediately looked away, even as he could see the queen’s concerned expression out of the corner of his working eye. “It was the earthquake. Brought back some bad memories, that’s all.”

Without warning, the ceiling shifted with an ominous rumble. Afua flinched and fell prone, curling up against the side of the rock while his instincts screamed at him to take cover. The sound of a stony avalanche roared in his ears before he realized it was only in his head — and became aware that the sound of frantic breathing was coming from him as his senses reattuned themselves one by one.

Nala was crouched down beside him, looking mortified. “I knew it. I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“I’m fine,” insisted Afua, unsteadily brushing away her outstretched paw. “I can do this.”

“You’ve done plenty,” she told him firmly. “I’ll have Kula walk you out.”

He bolted upright. “I said I’m fine, Nala.”

“And I heard you, but I don’t think you are. What are you trying to prove here?”

“That you’re not my mother, okay?” growled Afua. “I don’t need you or anyone to be my mother.”

She shook her head imploringly. “Afua, I was never trying to be—”

“Then stop acting like it,” he snapped. “Stop trying to protect me, as if it’ll—it’ll make up for Kopa.”

A look of anguish crossed Nala’s expression, and Afua instantly regretted his words. He turned away, mentally berating himself as he struggled to express the tumult of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have come.”

To his surprise, Nala was beside him once more, slipping a paw over his trembling foreleg. “But you’re here now,” she said, without a hint of condemnation in her voice. “So how about we get this done and get out of here?”

Afua nodded shakily, grateful that she didn’t ask him to leave again. He was tired of closing himself off from her and Simba, he knew that much, and thinking about how things used to be only made it all the more apparent. But he knew deep down they would mistake even the slightest bit of emotional encouragement for hope that he just couldn’t give.

And so he held his silence as he toiled in the dark with Nala, his heart sitting more heavily than the cold rock pressed against his paws.

•••

Sitting atop a grassy hill, Vitani idly curled a blade of grass around one claw while listening to the sound of the rainstorm retreating in the distance. Kion was sprawled beside her, lying on his back and watching the stars in the now-clear night sky. The smell of fresh rain lingered in her nostrils, and from the other side of the hill, she could hear the sound of Bunga and Beshte’s raucous snoring.

Vitani snorted, glancing over her shoulder at the sleeping duo. “Some Night Pride they turned out to be.”

“The ‘night’ part takes some getting used to,” admitted Kion, rubbing at the shadows under his eyes. Vitani sensed that his weariness was more than physical, however. “I have duties during the day as well, and Rani’s doing even more than me.”

“Ruling a whole kingdom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, huh?”

“It is a lot of responsibility. I’m just glad she doesn’t have to do it all alone while I’m gone.” When she said nothing in response, he craned his neck to look at her. “So what are you doing all the way out here?”

Vitani hesitated. “Can’t tell you. It’s not me you should hear it from.”

“Why?” he asked, now growing concerned.

“You’ll have to ask your parents. Honestly, I’m not sure I’m chasing after anything more than hope.”

“Hope is one of the most important things there is, Vitani,” insisted Kion. “I couldn’t have made it to the Tree of Life if I didn’t have hope.”

“You got lucky. I’ve learned to never hope for things I can’t control — like whether or not my team survived the earthquake when it hit.”

“We felt the earthquake too,” he recalled. “Is your team alright?”

“Yeah. Your parents too, though Kiara...”

Kion immediately sat upright. “Kiara? What about her?”

“Nothing, she’s safe now,” Vitani responded brusquely, already wishing she hadn’t said anything.

“‘Now’? What happened?”

“It’s been handled. I told you, she’s fine.”

He gave her a skeptical look for a moment, and then shrugged. “I’ve served with the Guard long enough to know a rescue story when I smell it. Fine, I’ll ask Kiara to tell me everything.”

Vitani scowled. “I was just starting to like you, you know.”

“I thought we were friends now.” He managed a tired, slightly forced grin.

“We hardly know each other.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

She rolled her eyes. “Even after becoming king, you somehow still find the energy to annoy me.”

“And you’re still good at putting on the moody act, but you forget I’m friends with Anga.” Worry entered Kion’s expression upon speaking his friend’s name, and finally Vitani was able to place why he appeared so ill at ease.

“Kion, what happened?” she asked seriously. “Where’s Anga?”

What levity remained dropped from Kion’s demeanour. “Rani sent her to investigate another kingdom a few moons ago, after they stopped corresponding with us. She’s been gone awhile so we came to find her ourselves.”

Vitani considered asking what he would do if something did happen to Anga. She kept the thought to herself upon catching the glimpse of despair in his eyes. I know that look. He’s been barely holding it together for a while. Not for the first time, she wished she knew the right words to alleviate his misgivings. Instead, all she said was, “Tell me about the kingdom.”

“They live by the ocean, in a territory called the Viridian Plains,” Kion intoned. “Before they went quiet, their last messenger mentioned that the animals on the coastal island nearby have been unusually active. That was six moons ago, right after the last time I returned to the Pride Lands.”

“Creepy,” remarked Vitani. “So these animals weren’t afraid of the ruling pride?”

“We don’t know the details. But apparently there were lions on the island as well — maybe the same ones that attacked Malka’s pride.”

She thought back to what Bunga had told her and Kion. “Your honey badger is lucky he wasn’t spying on these lions then. I doubt they’d have been nice enough to send him on his way.” She gave him a nudge that she hoped was encouraging. “Knowing what we know now, I think it’s pretty safe to say who our enemies are.”

“So what am I supposed to do about them?”

“The answer to that should be obvious,” replied Vitani, already suppressing a pre-emptive groan as she knew where this was going.

“I can’t kill them, Vitani. It’s not what I do.”

Yep, called it. Letting out a breath through her nose, Vitani said with as much patience as she could muster, “That may have worked for you in the Pride Lands, but trust me, it won’t fly this time. I need you to hear me, alright?”

“Kiara made peace between our prides when I thought that was impossible,” Kion argued. “I have to hope we can do this too.”

“There you go again with that hope stuff,” grunted Vitani. “How about this, you head back to the Pride Lands and you can hope your parents don’t tell you what I’m telling you now. They might even know something we don’t.”

“And what about you?” he asked cautiously.

“I’ll do this my way. Some of those lions are still prowling around the mountains — I’ll get them to talk.”

He gave her a hard look, not liking what she was implying. “Our job isn’t to intimidate or threaten, Vitani. It’s to protect.”

“I’ve had to protect what’s mine since before you were born,” she growled, now rising to her paws. “So spare me the lecture, Your Majesty. Defending the Pride Lands isn’t your job anymore — it’s mine.”

“And this is your idea of defending the Pride Lands?” challenged Kion, standing up as well. “Do you really want to be like her?”

Vitani snarled, needing no clarification on who he was referring to. “You don’t get to do that, Kion. You never get to talk to me about her, you understand?”

The moment was interrupted by the arrival of Ono, who didn’t seem to notice the tension between them as he swooped in. “Kion? We need to get to the Pride Lands now.”

Kion turned to him, vexation momentarily abated by the urgency in the egret’s voice. “What is it, Ono? What did you find out?”

“I’ll tell you on the way,” promised Ono. “You have a lot of ground to cover if we’re gonna make it back in time.”

“Go wake Bunga and Beshte,” Kion told him. He waited until he and Vitani were alone before speaking again. “You’re a great leader, Vitani, and I know fighting is how you’ve survived most of your life. But it’s not the only way to survive.”

Vitani shook a few water droplets out of her fur as she turned to leave. “We all have to grow up one day, Kion. You’re not playing Lion Guard in the Pride Lands anymore, it’s time you accept that.” Without waiting for a response, she dashed away into the hills, leaving Kion to watch her leave in solitude.

She briefly wondered if it would have been better to tell him about Kopa after all, if only to make him understand that the world did not care about things like hope and fairness. Stop. If I’m wrong, then Kion will never hear about him from me. Shaking her head, Vitani sped off into the mountains.

•••

In spite of his best efforts, Chumvi could tell that the enemy lions were steadily closing the gap between them. He had lost most of his initial pursuers in the unfavourable crossing through the badlands, and just when he thought re-entering the canyons would give him a chance to outrun the rest, he had the misfortune of encountering a second group out of the blue. Unfortunately for him, they were nowhere near as exhausted as he was.

He glanced over his shoulder in between bursts of ragged breathing and nearly tripped over his own paws as they threatened to give out. The lioness at the forefront looked familiar, and as Chumvi recounted that one of Janga’s friends had the same night-grey fur, he decided to take a chance while he still could.

He stumbled to a halt and feverishly whirled about, panting as the enemy lions drew nearer, and managed to gasp out, “Stop... Kivuli...”

Kivuli skidded to a halt. She narrowed her eyes as her lions stopped and formed up behind her. “Have we met?”

Seeing that she wasn’t intent on killing him right then and there, Chumvi took a moment to regain his breath before responding. “No... but I remember you. You’re... you’re Ashaka’s daughter.”

She jerked, too taken aback to even try and hide her surprise. “So you’re from the Pride Lands,” she deduced, quickly putting it together.

“Born and raised,” he responded. “Mostly under Scar, unfortunately, but you already know what that’s like.”

Kivuli frowned, her silver eyes whizzing about as she mulled this over. Chumvi hardly dared draw breath, unable to tell if he was doing anything besides delaying the inevitable. Finally, the lioness fixed her eyes back on him, now wearing a shrewd, humourless smile. “Yes, I recognize you now. You’re Chumvi, aren’t you? Zira’s secret concubine.”

Chumvi flinched, though he managed to retain his composure. “I never belonged to her.”

“Oh no, but you missed the best part.” Now she was grinning with deliberate rancour. “Scar chose your cub as his heir, never suspected a thing. He even had your mother’s eyes like Zira hoped.”

“Stop talking,” growled Chumvi.

“Oh, but I thought you wanted to talk. Don’t you want to know about your other cubs?”

His eyes widened. “‘Cubs’?” he repeated.

“Twins,” said Kivuli nonchalantly, though her voice held nothing but contempt. “Congratulations, I suppose, for whatever that’s worth four years late. Kula must have had her paws full without you.”

Chumvi’s mind raced, momentarily paralyzed by the revelation. “So why did you end up leaving?”

“Janga, of course,” she scoffed. “What did you think would happen the moment Scar got his perfect heir? Unlike you, loyalty actually means something to me.”

“And what, you’re gonna kill me to prove how loyal you are to Janga?” he demanded.

“I certainly could,” she deliberated with another vicious smile, “but you can have my mercy if I have your cooperation. For old time’s sake, or whatever you want to call it.”

Chumvi scrutinized her wordlessly, trying to determine if she was telling the truth.

Kivuli saw this and laughed. “If I wanted to kill you, I’d have done it by now. Now don’t be foolish, I have you outnumbered by a landslide.”

One of the other lions was peering over Chumvi’s shoulder with growing concern. “Not for long, Kivuli. Look.”

Chumvi followed her gaze, as did Kivuli. To his surprise, he spotted a young male lion bolting straight for them, and at his shoulder was none other than Kumi. Relief swept over him upon catching sight of his queen, and despite all else, he couldn’t help but believe everything would be okay.

“Two lions,” observed Kivuli, unphased. “We can take them.”

The lion next to her squinted more closely. “Hang on... the one at the front...” His eyes suddenly widened in terror, and he hastily turned and scrambled in the opposite direction. “It’s him! The one that split the canyon in two!”

Kivuli looked his way in annoyance. “Get back here! Don’t be absurd, you’re—”

The young male let out a mighty roar from less than ten paces away, and Chumvi immediately flattened his ears against his head as the canyon filled with its sheer sonic magnitude. To his astonishment, the rest of Kivuli’s lions turned tail and ran off as well, though the grey-furred lioness herself did not. She narrowed her eyes at the new arrival as the echoes faded out around them, baring her teeth in a growl before sprinting away after the others.

Hardly able to believe what he had just witnessed, Chumvi lifted his ears, slack-jawed as his eyes darted between Kumi and the other lion. “You split the canyon in two? With a roar?”

The younger lion looked just as confused as him, however. “No,” he said slowly. “But he knew they’d run.”

Chumvi cocked his head, perplexed. “Who?”

“Fujo,” chimed in Kumi.

“Should’ve guessed,” he laughed shakily, still buzzing with a surreal euphoria. “It’s really good to see you, Your Majesty.”

Kumi gave him a scowl. “I told you to never call me that.”

“Sorry, I’m still a little stressed. Who’s the fearless saviour come to my rescue?”

“My name’s Kopa,” introduced the other lion. “You’re Chumvi, right?”

“That’s me,” Chumvi affirmed. “I suppose Fujo told you that too.”

Kopa nodded. “He says you can guide us to the Serengeti.”

“The Pride Lands? That’s where I’m headed now, and I’d definitely welcome the company. Especially if you can scare off more of Janga’s lions.”

The younger lion frowned. “I’m gonna be honest, I don’t even know what happened just now.”

“A roar that can split a canyon in two...” Kumi murmured thoughtfully. “Of course... the Roar of the Elders. I’d heard the legends, but I never thought...”

“What’s the Roar of the Elders?” asked Kopa curiously.

“Yes, I’d like to know as well,” came Malka’s familiar voice from behind them.

Chumvi turned toward the sound of pawsteps to see his king emerge from a nearby opening in the canyon wall. Flanking him were Fika and Bidi, and all three of them looked rain-drenched and more rattled than Chumvi had ever seen them — more rattled than even he had felt in the face of near-certain death.

Kumi took in their dishevelled state with surprise. “What happened to you all?”

“Exactly what you just described,” replied Malka grimly. “Kivuli’s lions were on us, and then...”

Fika and Bidi shuddered simultaneously. Kopa’s red-brown eyes stared in the direction the enemy lions had fled, comprehension dawning on him. “So that’s why they ran. They thought I was...”

“I thought you were as well,” Malka divulged, now taking in the younger lion’s features with rapt attention. “What’s your name, young lion?”

“Kopa.”

“Prince Kopa, of the Serengeti Pride,” clarified Kumi. “So mind your manners, everyone.”

“I thought so,” breathed Malka. “You... you look so much like Simba.”

Kopa’s voice rose in excitement. “You knew him?”

For the first time, a smile appeared on the king’s weary features. “Knew him? His father practically adopted me! Well, for a few days, at least, when I got lost and wandered into the Serengeti.”

Chumvi did not miss the way Kopa’s brow furrowed in response, though he couldn’t discern the words the younger lion was silently mouthing to himself.

Malka’s smile slipped ever so slightly. “Is something the matter?”

Kopa glanced from him to Kumi, realization slipping into his features. “Yeah,” he muttered absently, “I just... can’t believe you knew my father, that’s all...”

There was something else, something he wasn’t sharing — that much was obvious to Chumvi. But he decided not to press the issue, and instead turned back to Kumi. “You were saying?”

Kumi tore her gaze away from Kopa, evidently also curious about what was on his mind. “Right, the Roar of the Elders. As most of you are aware, Fujo bears the Sight of the Spirits. They were both gifted to our kingdoms by the Tree of Life many generations ago. And like the Sight, the Roar is usually bestowed upon the royal family’s second-born heir, with the purpose of defending their kingdom to the death.”

“So the lion with the Roar of the Elders...” Chumvi said slowly.

“...is my brother,” finished Kopa, his voice now barely a whisper. “I have a brother?”

Malka stared at Kopa, utterly confused by what he was hearing. “Just how long have you been away from home, Prince Kopa?”

Chapter Text

And I don’t need the fallout of all the past that’s in between us,
I’m not holding on, and all your lies weren’t enough to keep me here.
And I want to get free, talk to me, I can feel you falling
And I wanted to be all you need, somehow here is gone.
—The Goo Goo Dolls, “Here Is Gone”

Vitani slammed the ash-furred lion against the ground, noting the way he doubled over as if punched in the gut. “Talk while I’m still in a talking mood. Viridian Plains, I know you know the name.”

“It was a peaceful occupation,” gasped the lion, one paw clutching the spot underneath his rib cage. “We didn’t kill anyone that time.”

“Oh, so you just felt like switching it up, huh?” she scoffed. “Your horde doesn’t seem big enough to conquer an entire kingdom without a fight. Those animals on the coastal island — who are they?” Out of the corner of her eye, Vitani noticed a sandy-furred lioness dashing out from around the bend with a russet male, and she jeered, “Nice try on the decoys, but I always find who I’m after. One of you really should’ve stayed with him.”

The sandy lioness charged forward. Vitani leaped up to meet her in midair, feinting at the last moment by spinning to one side and using the motion to strike her opponent in the back of the head with one paw.

The russet lion was not so rash, marching toward her with measured purpose. “If we can’t outrun you, then I suppose we’ll have to kill you.”

“That is the only way you’re stopping me.” Vitani closed in on her opponent, and as he braced for her to make the first move, she swiped a pawful of dust up at his face, prompting him to duck back.

But it was another feint. In the same movement, Vitani back-pawed the russet lion and lunged in to bite him at the base of his neck. He thrust one foreleg up and her teeth sank into his shoulder instead. Grimacing in pain, the russet lion rolled over and grappled her to the ground, pressing down with his shoulder in an attempt to force her jaws apart.

Thinking fast, Vitani grabbed his extended foreleg with both front paws and pulled hard, freeing her teeth from her opponent along with a few strands of fur and flesh. She headbutted him under his injured shoulder, and seeing him flinch gave her the chance to scramble up as the sandy-furred lioness moved for her again.

I’ve seen these lions somewhere before, I’m sure of it, thought Vitani, blocking the lioness’ strike before sidestepping the russet lion who rushed her from behind. Her gaze briefly dwelled on the ash-furred male staggering away from the fight. Except that one, he’s too young.

In one deft move, the russet lion ducked her retaliatory swipe and pinned her against a nearby boulder. “Go help him,” he grunted to his companion. The sandy-furred lioness hesitated, though she did as he commanded upon seeing that he was able to hold Vitani in place.

Vitani strained to wrestle herself from his grasp, though his foreleg was only pressing harder against her throat. “We can still... do this... the easy way,” she gasped out.

“I won’t be making anything easy for you, spawn of Zira,” snarled the russet lion.

Even as she struggled for air, she managed to narrow her eyes at him resentfully. “Zira’s dead... if you think... you hate her... ” She half-laughed, half-choked. Overhead, the sunny morning sky darkened in an abrupt convalescence of clouds.

He did not budge. “We know what became of Zira. And we know your brother is to be the next king.”

“That’s right,” rasped Vitani, now remembering this lion by name. “You got a problem with that, Sajin?”

“Yeah,” Sajin said stiffly. “We do.” A spontaneous crackle of thunder prompted him to look up.

The Roar of the Elders blasted him directly in the face, sending him flying away over the canyon wall. Vitani rubbed her neck with a wince and swiftly gave chase to the sandy-furred lioness, who was leading the young ash lion away as quickly as he could manage. Once again she could feel the Roar rise up from within her as another roll of thunder rumbled ominously — and in that moment the sandy lioness placed herself between Vitani and the injured male.

Her name was Taya, as Vitani now recalled. The Roar quelled in her throat when she remembered just how many lions had left the Pride Lands after Janga did. They couldn’t have been looking for her, she was barely an adolescent at the time. How is it they all ended up following her?

Taya bared her teeth at her in defiance. “What are you waiting for? I know what you’re like.”

“What I’m like?” repeated Vitani, not moving from where she stood. Neither did the ash-furred lion.

“I’ve heard about you, after your family was exiled to the Outlands. How you were Zira’s perfect yes-lion, until you saw the opportunity to cross to the winning side.”

Vitani laughed bitterly. “That’s how you think it happened? That I somehow fooled Zira all those years since I was a cub?”

“No, but you’re good at adapting,” Taya said. “From what I can tell, you pledged fealty to Simba and now you have it all.”

Once again, Vitani’s thoughts drifted to Kopa. “Not yet,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But I’m close, I can feel it.”

The ash-furred lion edged his way forward so that he was beside Taya. “Are you going to kill us?”

Vitani frowned, perplexed that these lions were not at all the way she had imagined them. Could Kion be right? Maybe not everyone solves their problems like Zira. It was a precarious thought, and certainly one she was not comfortable entertaining. “My job is to protect, not intimidate or threaten. But someone tells me you’ve done both, and I’m more than happy to speak your language.”

“We prefer to do things peacefully,” Taya asserted.

“Of course,” snorted Vitani. “Until it’s someone else’s turn to threaten your ill-gotten peace.”

The sandy lioness scowled. “Take a look in your reflection. Zira was always a hypocrite too.”

This time, the Roar came out of nowhere. Taya and the ash-furred male were flung into the air head over tail, and they soon disappeared from view as well. Vitani gritted her teeth as the reverberations slowly faded around her. I can’t make a habit out of doing that. Especially not every time someone says something to set me off. Well aware that she had gained almost nothing in the way of information so far, Vitani listened for any indication of which way the lions had fallen — when the sound of rapidly approaching pawsteps came from the opposite direction.

Before she even had time to turn around, Vitani heard a faint whistle, almost like a mosquito’s whine, and felt a sharp sting in the side of her neck. And then no fewer than six lionesses appeared out of the rocks, their fur painted with extensive, wildly vibrant strokes. She ducked behind a barren tree as they spit mouthfuls of small black thorns at her, sending them clattering against the trunk; however, Vitani’s abrupt movement caused her to lose her balance, and as she flopped onto her front, she realized she had been drugged.

With her limbs becoming increasingly sluggish, Vitani clumsily slapped a pawful of mud onto the stinging sensation in her neck, trying to slow the effects of the poison. She tried without success to get up as painted paws surrounded her on all sides.

“Hapa, Nia,” came one of their voices from over her. “Ana alama Lion Guard. Tulisikia Roar of the Elders.”

“Haiwezekani,” growled the lioness named Nia. “Roar of the Elders hazijawahi kutolewa kwa dada.”

“I have no idea what you people are saying, but it sounds like you’re talking about me,” Vitani slurred from where she lay. She uttered a grunt as the others rolled her over onto her front.

“Get up,” Nia ordered. “I want to see the Roar for myself.”

“Seriously?” groaned Vitani. “You couldn’t have asked before you drugged me?”

“Now, outsider.”

Vision swimming, Vitani managed a surly gurgle as she pushed herself up into an unsteady upright position. “Last time I listen to Rafiki...” she grumbled, heavily slapping one front paw against the ground in a lumbering attempt to plant herself. She reared her head back and drew a deep breath.

The ensuing Roar threw her backward in the blink of an eye, sending her slamming into a tree with its piercing sonic wail still spilling from her maw. A long line cut through the ground as Vitani rolled across its surface, launching the painted lionesses in every direction away from her. As the effects of the poison finally took hold, unconsciousness came upon her before the others even hit the dirt.

•••

The sun had slipped into its afternoon position by the time Kopa reached the end of the canyon. Mount Kilimanjaro’s titanic figure dominated the distant northeastern skyline, even above the more immediate mountains; in the opposite direction, the desolate terrain stretched on into an increasingly sterile landscape.

Chumvi stepped up beside him, staring into the region with apprehension. “The Outlands,” he muttered darkly. “I’d steer clear if I were you.”

Kopa’s eyes did not leave the uninviting territory. “Is it the quickest way to the Serengeti?”

“Not with all the hostile life in there, especially the Shadowlands,” warned the older lion. “We’re better off going around.”

“We don’t have time to go around.”

Chumvi winced. “I know you’re eager to see your parents, but do you really want to risk venturing in there?”

“That’s not it,” Kopa said tersely. “Janga’s not gonna go around, so we can’t.”

“He’s got a point,” Kumi agreed, joining them as well. “We’re gonna have to chance it.”

Chumvi groaned softly. “As you wish, my lieges.”

Kumi turned toward Malka, who had caught up with Fika just then. “You could come with us. It might be safer there than The Hollow.”

He regarded her warily. “Why? Do you have reason to believe Janga knows about it?”

“Yeah, I do,” she responded, looking a little taken aback at his animosity. “She somehow lured you all out of Mount Tempest — you want to tell me how that happened?”

“I think you already know,” growled Malka. “Seeing as you were conveniently absent during the attack.”

“Hang on,” Fika began, but she fell silent when Kumi raised a paw.

The ochre lioness’ eyes were narrowed, and fixed intently on her mate. “Be careful, Malka. As usual, you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t before,” he hissed. “That’s over and done with, so look me in the eye and tell me the truth. Now.”

She obliged, glaring at him with such ferocity that Kopa involuntarily averted his gaze. “I promised I’d never lie to you the day we took our vows. We’ve made a lot of missteps since then, but I have always stuck by that.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“I left because of you!”

Malka reared back as if stung. Kumi’s chest heaved with pent-up rage, and Kopa noticed that the others looked deeply uncomfortable, as if this was something they were well familiar with. And the more he heard, the more it all started to make sense.

“Look around, Malka,” sneered Kumi. “You’re a king who’s abandoned by his own people because you abandoned them first. Our family has crumbled into ruin and you’re asking me why I left? You think I’d betray the entire pride just to spite you, when you don’t even care about them one bit?”

The claws flashed out from Malka’s paws. Kopa hastily stepped between them, seeing that this wasn’t going anywhere good. “Both of you stop, alright?”

“You might want to listen to him,” Kumi growled to her mate. “Fujo isn’t here to protect you right now.”

Kopa saw Malka angrily open his mouth to respond, and whirled on him so that she was obstructed from his view. “You want the truth? Kumi and I came across some wounded lions in the mountains. We found out they were Janga’s, but we helped them anyway. Kumi wanted information, and I saw her threaten to kill the lion we saved in order to get it.” Turning to face Kumi, he said, “I don’t know if I trust you. I don’t know if I even like you, but I don’t think you’re a traitor.”

“You’ll be taking a risk by bringing her to your pride,” cautioned Malka.

“You worry about yours and I’ll worry about mine, Your Majesty,” Kopa said irately, his patience running thin. “Now I’ve wasted enough time, we need to keep go—”

He broke off when he noticed Bidi’s rapidly approaching form. She stumbled to a halt next to Fika, turning her head away from the small dust cloud she had left in her wake. “Found some tracks...” she gasped. “Belonged to... Tembea...”

“I don’t believe it,” murmured Malka, suspicion melting into incredulity. “She actually made it away.”

“Yeah, not for long,” Bidi responded in consternation, still a bit winded. “Janga’s lions are following her trail — and the big one is after her.”

A shiver ran instantly ran down Kopa’s spine. “Jeraha?”

She nodded briskly. “That’s him.”

“We have to help,” interjected Chumvi. “She’ll never outrun them, never mind make it up the mountain on her own.”

“She might not be on her own,” Bidi added. “I spotted two other sets of tracks heading in that direction. I’m pretty sure one of them is Siri’s.”

Kopa’s heart began to race. Amidst the cavalcade of thoughts that crashed down on him like a waterfall, a single thought cut through it all. Tumaini.

Malka peered around him to look at Kumi. “Well? Are you coming?”

“I thought you didn’t trust me,” she scowled.

“So prove me wrong.”

She scoffed abrasively. “That’s easy enough.”

“I’m coming as well,” said Kopa.

Malka’s gaze shifted to give him an appraising look. “What happened to ‘you worry about yours and I’ll worry about mine’?”

Remembering how easily Kumi had read him while they were on the mountain, Kopa did his best not to fidget or avoid Malka’s eyes as he carefully responded, “I met your brother, he’s tracking Janga right now. My friend’s with Siri – I need to make sure he’s okay.”

He could hear the tension in his own voice even before he saw the mystified looks from the other lions. Kumi was staring at him again like she did earlier, but all she said was, “Then let’s move. They’ll stand a better chance if we pick off the ones that fall behind.”

•••

Vitani opened her eyes and was surprised to feel her senses return almost immediately. She bolted upright, and immediately her mouth and vision filled with leaves as her face entangled itself into the hanging canopy above. With an aggravated growl, she wrestled her head free and stumbled out and away, blinking and spitting out leaves — and halted when she saw the twenty or so painted warriors, all stopped where they stood and staring at her.

It was then that she realized that they were on the side of a mountain, and quite high up if the surrounding peaks were any indication. The clouds were still above them but only barely, and as a chilly gust blew by, it occurred to Vitani that the coat of paint worn by the lionesses probably served as an extra layer of insulation as well.

Nia bustled forth from the crowd, her red-brown eyes hawkishly fixed upon Vitani. “Do not try anything, outsider.”

“You mean with the Roar?” Vitani asked sarcastically. “Cause that was your fault for darting me first.”

“How did you come to possess the Roar of the Elders?” demanded Nia, clearly not one for making small talk.

In other words, my kind of people. Vitani tilted her head, wondering what this could be about. “It was passed onto me by the previous leader of the Lion Guard. Why do you care?”

Nia opened her mouth to answer when another voice was heard from behind Vitani. “This tribe has faced the Roar of the Elders in generations past. Always it was wielded by warmongers, used to threaten us and those we protected.”

A stern-faced lioness strode into view from opposite Nia, her aging but not quite elderly face painted more colourfully and elaborately than the others’. Upon her forehead was a long thin crest that matched her eyes, which were a peculiar mix that was neither green nor blue. Vitani guessed that this had to be the chief of the tribe. “And why would the Lion Guard decide to threaten you?” she asked.

The chief wordlessly motioned for Vitani to follow her, and briskly led them away to a quieter part of the camp. “Because we took in the lionesses who fled their kingdom, and the Lion Guard believed they were entitled to demand their ‘return’.” Her voice took on a scornful edge. “We believed otherwise.”

So much for “The Lion Guard doesn’t threaten”, huh, Kion? Vitani suppressed the thought and peered back at the warriors, who had silently returned to their tasks. “Your tribe has defeated the Lion Guard before?”

“Not merely defeated, we killed them. Along with anyone else they sent to retaliate.”

“My mother would’ve liked you,” muttered Vitani.

The chief fixed her with a long look before she spoke again. “I didn’t instruct Nia to bring you to our camp. Know that you’re here on her invitation, so I would refrain from saying or doing anything unwise if I were you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not looking to get poisoned again.” Vitani cocked her head, noting that the other lioness hadn’t so much as introduced herself. “You don’t want me here, do you?”

“Your very presence is a risk, regardless of what your intentions may be,” the chief said flatly. “My warriors have told me troubling things about your conflict in the mountains.”

“It isn’t our conflict,” Vitani informed her.

“Not yet. But make no mistake, they are coming for your kingdom. They have already taken the one belonging to the Mtera Pride.”

“So why am I still here?”

The chief scrutinized her, though Vitani couldn’t tell if she was impressed or annoyed by her directness. “Nia believes you may be of aid to us. We were not aware that the Roar of the Elders belonged to you.”

“And what is it you want me to do with the Roar?”

“To keep my people and their borders safe. The invaders intend to control this part of the mountains so their allies can reach your kingdom unhindered. This will be a problem for both of us.”

“Agreed,” replied Vitani. “Alright, chief, I’d be a lot more annoyed about getting hauled up here, but you’re lucky I was already on my way to you.”

“And what is it you want with me?” the chief asked warily.

“I’m looking for someone, and an old monkey told me your tribe might know something.”

The older lioness growled irritably. “Rafiki.”

“Yep,” affirmed Vitani. “And if you’re right about all this, then you say jump and I’ll say how high. Your tribe doesn’t get involved, at least not officially. Sound good to you?”

The two of them stopped before a lone mkukusu tree at the centre of the camp. The chief peered up the length of its thick, immovable trunk before turning back to Vitani. “Very well, I accept your terms. What’s your name, child?”

“Vitani.”

The chief paused for a moment, then used one claw to carefully scratch something into the dirt at the base of the tree.

Vitani peered at it closely, not recognizing the pattern of lines and shapes as any sort of writing she had seen before. “What is that?”

“Your name, written in the lion’s native tongue.” With a disdainful flick to shake the dirt from her paw, the chief went on to explain, “The kingdom prides abandoned their language in favour of kila, so that the animals would understand them. They chose to tie their identities to being rulers rather than lions. Do you know what your name means, Vitani?”

“No.”

“It means ‘at war’. Perhaps you are more like your predecessors than you know.” The chief expertly scratched something else next to Vitani’s name. “This is my name, Safina. I now make an oath before the mkukusu tree to honour my agreement with you. What oath do you make, Vitani of the Lion Guard?”

It was Vitani’s turn to peer skyward, though the clouds were a lot closer to eye level than usual. “I swear upon my brother, Nuka, my spiritual advisor and witness in all things. I will protect your tribe as I have protected the Pride Lands.” She drew one of her claws as well and scratched the symbol of the Lion Guard above their names.

Everyone craned their necks as the nearby clouds parted in a dazzling array of golden light, and Nuka smiled briefly down at them before his visage faded once more into the afternoon sky. Satisfied, Safina gave an authoritative roar, and within moments the entire tribe was gathered before them once again.

“Sisters! Vitani of the Lion Guard has made an oath to protect our borders so long as these invaders threaten them. She may not be one of us, but she bears a gift from the Tree of Life itself — the Roar of the Elders.” The chief stifled the ripple of murmurs with an austere look, and the warriors fell silent once more. “In exchange, you will provide whatever help she may ask of you, for in doing so you help your people. Mto ni damu yetu!*”

“Milima ni mifupa yetu!**” roared the Nami tribe in unison.

Having spoken her piece, Safina stepped to one side before nodding to Vitani, who noticed that everyone’s eyes were now on her and promptly cleared her throat. “I’m searching for a lion in these mountains. An adult male, goes by the name of Kopa — gold pelt, brown mane, same eye colour as...” She trailed off as she indicated Nia, who for some reason was now avoiding her gaze. “...you. Yeah, the one that darted me. What do you know?”

The others glanced at Nia, who remained as silent as she was still.

“Answer her, Nia,” ordered Safina sharply.

“A lion entered our territory yesterday,” Nia confessed, without a trace of her usual boldness. “I didn’t hear his name, but he fit your description and he wasn’t much younger than you.”

“Yesterday?” the chief repeated. “And you withheld this from me?”

“Forgive me, chief,” Nia said abashedly. “He was aiding a wounded lion and promised to be gone quickly.”

Safina’s brow arched in disapproval. “Our law is clear, and the tribe is safe only so long as we all uphold it. Why did you disobey?”

Nia lowered her head in earnest, and she murmured something indiscernible.

“Speak up,” growled Safina, “and look me in the eye when you address me.”

The other lioness obeyed, and with just a hint of defiance in her penitent demeanour, she said, “He looked like my father. But younger than I remember him.”

The rest of the tribe whispered among themselves once more. Vitani’s eyes shifted from Nia to Safina and back, and when neither of them said something, she decided to do so instead. “If that lion is who I think he is, then you’ll be glad you let him go. Which way was he headed?”

“Northwest,” Nia told her quietly.

Vitani sighed. “Great. He could be anywhere in the mountains by now.”

“Then Nia will accompany you until you find him,” Safina informed her. “If this lion is the one you seek, then his fate is for you to decide.” Turning to Nia, she continued, “And if he is an enemy, then you will kill him yourself. You may not return until one of these things has come to pass.”

Without prompting, the other warriors stepped back from Nia in near-unison, so that she stood apart from the tribe. She bowed her head again.

Vitani couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt at having singled Nia out. “Is this really necessary? The oath was between me and your tribe.”

Nia nodded resolutely. “My judgement was selfish and I’ve endangered my sisters. I must atone.”

“Wow, you people are intense,” muttered Vitani. “Fine, we should get going. Especially if I’m going to find him before the invaders do.”

One of the warriors hurried to Safina’s side just then. “Chief, the elder’s awake, She’s asking about the Pridelander.”

“Let her rest,” the chief replied. “Tell her I’ll explain everything shortly.” She stopped and cast Vitani one more sidelong glance. “I expect we’ll meet again. In the meantime, tell no one about this place — not even your pride.”

“You got it, chief,” Vitani said curtly. As she followed Nia out of the camp, she noticed that the other lioness’ eye colour was not merely similar to Kopa’s like she initially thought — it was identical, in an uncanny way not even Simba’s eyes were.

Maybe Nia will get more out of this arrangement than she thinks — or maybe she’s already hoping she will.

•••

“You’re moving faster now,” Tumaini remarked, squinting against the dusk’s piercing sunlight through a scarce canopy of trees.

Siri eyed Mount Kilimanjaro’s towering form, still easily visible in the fading light given how close they were now. “I just hope I’ll be okay to climb. That’s a long way up.”

“You won’t have to go all the way to the top,” he assured her.

She raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t know where the hideout was.”

“I don’t,” he faltered. “I’ve just... heard about it. Vaguely.”

“Tumaini,” said Siri firmly, “I don’t need to know everything about you. But this is my pride we’re talking about, and there’s something about them you’re not telling me.”

Tumaini bit his lip. “This is not something I usually ask people I met four days ago, so don’t get the wrong idea. Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” she told him without hesitation.

“Okay.” He exhaled, now gazing wistfully at Mount Kilimanjaro as well. “I did something terrible to your pride a long time ago. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

“Is that why you helped me?”

“No. I don’t think I can ever fix what I did.”

“Maybe not,” she conceded, slowly trying to work everything out in her head. She had a nagging suspicion about him now, one that somehow fit everything she already knew from her own end. “But if you face it, you might finally find some peace with yourself.”

“I doubt that’s an option for me,” Tumaini murmured resignedly.

Siri made a disgruntled noise. “Yeah, you definitely remind me of someone from my pride. You’re never gonna guess who—”

“Tembea,” he uttered abruptly.

“Tembea? No, I was gonna say—”

Tumaini rushed past Siri without another word, and she turned to see Tembea slumped against a leaning tree. Did she limp all the way here from Mount Tempest? I thought... after the attack... Taken by the unexpected stirring of emotion within her, Siri rushed to the other lioness, who tensed for a moment before spotting her.

“Siri? Oh, thank the Great Spirits. And...” Tembea blinked, looking as incredulous as Siri felt. “Wait, it can’t be. Tumaini?”

“Hi, Tembea,” said Tumaini tersely. “What happened to you?”

Tembea grimaced. “Accident. My own fault, really, I got careless. I shouldn’t be walking with my shoulder messed up like this, but it was either that or letting the big scary lion get me.”

Siri instinctively peered around at the mention of Jeraha. “Is he nearby?”

“Probably. I wasn’t gonna lose them trying to hobble up the mountain, so I thought I’d lay low until they gave up.”

“That won’t work, he’s an excellent tracker,” Siri informed her grimly.

Tembea gave her an inquisitive look. “You’ve met him?”

“We’ve got history. Let’s get you on your paws.”

Tumaini unsheathed his claws as he turned to face the nearby foliage. “Too late.”

Siri tensed at the ensuing sound of rustling, and Jeraha burst out of the bushes a heartbeat later. She immediately positioned herself in front of Tembea, raising her front paws to catch his; she pushed against Jeraha with their claws caught against each other, though her back paws were slowly sliding as he pressed forward.

Tumaini sent Jeraha rolling away, shielding Tembea who was struggling to stand. The burly lion smirked upon seeing the three of them take position around him. “My lions are coming. Your injuries won’t even make this a fair fight.”

“Who said I was looking for a fair fight?” retorted Tumaini. He slammed a clenched paw against the trunk of a kihambie tree, sending a shower of small hard fruit raining down on Jeraha. Siri took the opportunity to close the distance and throw her weight upon the burly lion, sinking her claws into the sides of his abdomen while Tembea fought to push him neck-first against the ground.

Jeraha swiftly headbutted Tembea under the chin, and she landed a short distance away in a dazed state. Siri stubbornly held on as he tried to buck her, trying to keep her face out of the way of his wildly kicking hindlegs. As Tumaini rushed in to help, Jeraha whirled on the spot and managed to hurl Siri back-first into him, dislodging her and sending her rolling away in a heap with Tumaini.

Shaking her head, Siri managed to chase the ringing from her ears and stood up, dismayed to see Husuda and Saka emerging from the trees. Jeraha straightened as they joined him on either side. “Where are the others?”

“I didn’t see them,” admitted Husuda. “They must have fallen behind.”

The burly lion growled in displeasure. “Focus on her, got it?”

Tumaini raised his hackles, having recovered his wits as well. “Bring it. I’ll make you bleed for every drop you spilled in my forest.”

There was now a twinkle in Jeraha’s eye. “Says one killer to another. It took me a while to remember where I had heard your name before.” He gave a rumbling, mirthless chuckle upon seeing the black-maned lion stiffen. “There’s a certain wild dog who’s eager to make your acquaintance again. Surely you remember him.”

“Bane,” hissed Tumaini, expression darkening with a contempt Siri had not seen before. “I’d never forget.”

“Then you should know what he wants. An eye for an eye.”

“If Bane wants to kill me, he’s more than welcome to try.” Tumaini’s voice was level, but his eyes glimmered with an icy coldness that did not belong there. “He’s not the only one who believes in revenge.”

Jeraha laughed. “For killing his son? No, it won’t be your life he wants. It’ll be that kid you’re so precious about — Kopa.”

Tumaini leapt at him, seized by a newfound rage. Siri caught Jeraha’s smirk a moment before the two of them were joined in battle once more, and she found herself watching Tembea’s back as the other enemy lions moved in toward them. However, her eyes did not leave Tumaini as he pinned Jeraha upright against a rock, clawing and swiping at him in a frenzy. The two of them snapped viciously at each other’s snouts, limbs, anything that strayed too close to their teeth.

Siri grabbed a piece of fruit that had dropped from the kihambie tree and smashed it against the side of Saka’s head, spraying its contents into her nostrils. The other lioness reared back, snapping at empty air before Tembea grabbed her in a headlock in an effort to crush her windpipe. The two of them rolled off to one side, and as Siri made to follow, Husuda leaped in front of her, claws and teeth raised to meet her.

Something dove out of the foliage without warning, sliding under Husuda and sending him flying into the air. Her opponent crashed into the kihambie tree, and amidst another hail of falling fruit, Siri finally saw who had come to her aid. “Kopa?”

Kopa did not slow down, and instead bolted straight for Jeraha. The larger lion had Tumaini pinned against the ground and dealt him a hefty swipe across the snout. Tumaini thrashed about with a roar, blood trickling into his eyes; even still, he managed to spit a wad of dark liquid into Jeraha’s eyes, and in that moment Kopa dealt him a decisive strike under the chin amidst another spray of blood.

Tumaini staggered up, wiping his eyes. Kopa rushed to him in alarm. “Tumaini!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” his friend assured him. “Glad you made it, Kopa.”

“I had help. They won’t be long, they took down two lions on the way here.”

“Finally, some good news,” exhaled Tumaini. “Who’s ‘they’?”

Kopa suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Uh, about that...”

Siri cleared her throat to get their attention, seeing that Jeraha and Husuda were getting back up. Likewise, Saka had managed to overpower a feebly stirring Tembea. “Guys, can we talk about this later?”

Before anyone on either side could make a move, another figure pounced out of the trees and collided with Husuda. The accompanying sound of rapidly approaching pawsteps prompted Jeraha to turn about, ears standing upright as he took in the numbers coming his way. Siri could see it, he was deliberating whether or not to take his chances — and then Husuda tumbled to a stop, limp and unmoving.

Atop him was Kumi, who withdrew her teeth from the back of his neck with a faint squelch. She locked eyes with Jeraha, who snarled at her but was met with only a vacant glare in response. And for the first time, Siri noticed an unnerved look cross his face before he turned and ran, followed promptly by Saka.

As Kopa made to gave chase, Kumi raised a foreleg to stop him. “Let him go. He’d cost us more blood than we can get out of killing him, even now.”

“What are you doing here, Kumi?” asked Siri, not having expected to see her anywhere near the pride after her falling out with Malka.

Kumi gave her an appraising look. “Clearly here is where I’m needed. Kopa tells me you know who we’re up against.”

“Yeah,” Siri admitted ruefully. “I wish I said something sooner.”

“So do I, but that’s a conversation for another time. I found some of your friends, by the way.”

As if summoned by her words, Fika and Bidi dashed in to join them. “Siri!” they chorused simultaneously.

Siri couldn’t contain her cry of joy and rushed forward to nuzzle them. “Fika! Bidi! You got away!”

“All thanks to Hamu,” replied Bidi, still grinning even as she withdrew. “She really outdid herself when she buried the pass.”

“I knew that was her,” said Siri exasperatedly. “Is she alright?”

Fika grimaced. “She’d better be. I saw them surround her after she tumbled out.”

Siri’s misgivings were momentarily alleviated upon catching sight of Malka, who looked like he had aged a year in the last few days. He smiled with relief as she approached and nudged their foreheads together. At that moment, Siri felt as if their pride was not beyond saving after all. “Thank the Great Spirits,” she said weakly. “I thought you were—I thought Janga—”

“I was afraid for you too,” Malka murmured. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Siri wasn’t sure whether to laugh or sob. What ended up coming out instead was a sort of wet, trembling squawk. “Thanks to some new friends I made. I guess you already know Kopa, and this is—”

It was only then that Siri noticed everyone else staring at Tumaini. His gaze was downcast, the confidence he normally exuded now completely evaporated. There was something distinctly uncomfortable in Kopa’s expression that told her he knew exactly what was going on, and in that moment, Siri’s earlier ruminations all came flooding back. Her eyes widened, even before their words confirmed what she all but suspected.

“Tumaini,” whispered Malka.

“Son?” Kumi uttered.

At last, Tumaini’s amber eyes turned upward to meet hers. “Mom. Dad.”

Chapter Text

And let all that is lost be forgotten, and it will pass,
So let all that is lost be forgotten, let us move on.
Like the waters in the open sea,
When tribulations come, all we can say is hopefully,
And yesterday you could probably say there’s no hope for me
But today I’m overly dedicated, I’m supposed to be.
—Dido / Kendrick Lamar, “Let Us Move On”

It was so obvious, Kopa could see it plain as day now that he was standing before them. Tumaini had Kumi’s amber eyes, the same bushy unkempt mane as Malka; the three of them stared at each other wordlessly, while the other lions stood around them as if rooted in place by the silence.

Kumi took a few uncertain steps forward, but stopped when Tumaini immediately backed away. He snapped out of his reverie and whirled on Kopa in outrage. “You knew about this?”

“Of course I didn’t, you never told me,” Kopa protested, having expected this reaction.

Kumi’s gaze shifted to him as well. “You figured it out last night, didn’t you?”

“As soon as Malka mentioned the time he wandered into the Serengeti,” he admitted. “Tumaini told me the same story a few days ago.”

“Guess I shouldn’t have,” Tumaini muttered.

“Tumaini, where have you been all these years?” asked Kumi disbelievingly.

He doggedly avoided her eyes. “If I didn’t want you to know then, what makes you think I do now?”

“You came back,” Malka asserted. “You risked your life coming all this way for something.”

“For her.” Tumaini jerked his head in Siri’s direction. “I did it for her, not for you, understand? I’d have never come back for either of you.”

Kopa made a noise of exasperation. “So what, you’re just gonna disappear on your parents again?”

“I wasn’t planning on seeing them to begin with,” his friend snapped. “So thanks for bringing them right to me, I guess.”

“That’s not—” Kopa sputtered. “I—you and Siri were in trouble! What was I supposed to do?”

With an aggravated growl, Tumaini stomped past him, shoulders squared and rigid. “Never mind. We’re leaving.”

“Hey!” Kopa moved in front of him. “We’re not done here!”

“Looks pretty done to me,” his friend scowled, his eyes flashing with barely contained fury.

“Then where’s your brother?” Kopa demanded, unable to contain himself even as Tumaini tensed. “Why is he with my pride and not yours?”

Malka’s stunned expression broke into incredulity. “What?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tumaini said stiffly.

“Well, I do. His name was Afua, right?” When Kopa’s question was greeted by stony silence, he pressed on. “My pride took him in, after... there was a rockslide in the gorge. That’s... that’s why he was blind in one eye.” The details were trickling in from the recesses of his mind, one by one.

He flinched as Tumaini suddenly placed a paw on his shoulder and turned him so that they were facing each other. There was a disconcerting hollowness in his friend’s demeanour that exuded no discernible emotion. “Stop digging, Kopa. I don’t know what my mother’s been filling your head with, but you’ve got your own past to worry about — and you can’t even be sure your mind isn’t playing tricks on you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” retorted Kopa heatedly, trying without success to wrest free. “You’d rather think I’m crazy so you can keep on pitying me instead of facing your own past.” He winced as Tumaini’s grip tightened on his shoulder. “Let go of me, Tumaini!”

Siri bound forward in a flash, but Tumaini had already removed his paw, looking chastened. Casting an involuntary glance toward his parents, he uttered, “I’m sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to—”

Shaking his head, Kopa yanked himself away, too angry to even register the receding pain in his shoulder. “I learned more about you just now than I have the entire time I’ve known you. That hurts, buddy, it really does.”

“Kopa—”

“Shut up, I’m not done,” Kopa growled, fighting to hold back his temper. “If you didn’t want any of this, you could have said so. But it was your idea to bring Siri out here, so here we are. And after everything she told us, you want to run off and pretend none of this happened?”

“Am I supposed to answer this time?” grumbled Tumaini. “Because the answer’s yes.”

Kopa whirled about and let loose a yell of frustration. “Forget it! I’ll prove your brother’s alive! You can stay here if you don’t believe me!”

The distance finally faded from Tumaini’s eyes, and he blinked in surprise. “Wha...but we agreed to go together.”

“I don’t need you following me around!” shouted Kopa. “Figure yourself out first, Tumaini, cause clearly I had you all wrong.”

This time, there was a noticeable pause before Tumaini spoke again. When he did, there was nothing but weary defeat in his voice. “Yeah. I guess you did.”

Despite his high-strung furor, Kopa squeezed his eyes shut as tears sprang forth. Fighting the overwhelming urge to take one more look at Tumaini, he rushed off before anyone could react. He thought he heard Siri calling his name, but didn’t turn to check as he dashed away through the trees.

•••

Tumaini wiped a stream of tears from his eyes with a sniffle, dropping his gaze as the sound of Kopa’s pawsteps faded into the forest. None of the others spoke a word, though he glanced up upon noticing that Siri was staring expectantly at him. “What?”

“Aren’t you going after him?” she demanded.

“He doesn’t want me,” he responded guiltily. “I can’t say I blame him.”

She huffed. “Well, he still needs you, even if neither of you will admit it right now. So if you’re not going, then I am.”

“You won’t catch up to him with your bad paw.”

Siri tapped the side of her head with one claw. “Then you’d better do some catching up yourself, and fast.” With that, she hobbled off in the direction Kopa had gone.

Silence fell over the remaining lions, and Tumaini saw that his parents were still staring at him. He dashed away his remaining tears and scoffed half-heartedly. “I bring her this close to safety and she turns around. Why do I even try?”

Kumi cocked her head. “How are you so sure your brother’s not in the Serengeti?”

“How are you so sure he is?”

“Your uncle’s seen him there, talked to him as well.”

“He did?” Malka blinked in surprise.

Tumaini sighed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. You know better than to take Fujo at his word, mom. He was just telling you what you wanted to hear.”

“So let me take you at your word,” Kumi said. “How do you know you’re right?”

His features screwed up tightly, not wanting to say the words but finding he couldn’t hold them back. “Because he’s dead. I killed him in that rockslide.”

Malka shirked back at this, stricken; the other lions’ attention were now unanimously fixated upon Tumaini. Kumi did not react, however, and asked quietly, “So how is it that Kopa remembers him?”

“He probably misremembered,” insisted Tumaini. “The rockslide part, maybe he saw that, and then he must have confused me for my brother, or—or repressed something traumatic he saw.” He peered about as he noticed their reactions, eyes lingering on his mother. “I just told you I buried Afua in a rockslide. Why doesn’t that bother you?”

Kumi sighed. “I don’t know, son. I feel more tired these days than I ever did. Some days it’s hard to feel at all. Maybe I just want something to go right for once.”

“You started a rockslide?” whispered Malka, having found his voice at last. “What were you thinking?”

Tumaini let forth a snarl at the question. “What was I thinking? I was thinking about how much I hated those wild dogs after they killed grandma Kana. Uncle Fujo made sure that was at the forefront of my thinking when I was growing up, or don’t you remember?” He felt a savage vindication in seeing Malka shirk from his words. “So I buried as many of them as I could in that gorge, but they—they had Afua, and—I didn’t know until—until—”

Despite his visible trepidation, Malka slowly stepped forward as Tumaini’s voice broke. The king gently cradled his son’s head under his own and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Tumaini.”

“Don’t tell me that,” sobbed Tumaini. “Tell me there’s no fixing this, that Janga’s going to kill us all before we get the chance. Just say it already.”

“Son,” said Malka solemnly. “If there really is a chance for our family, then I’ll fight tooth and claw to make sure we get it.”

Tumaini straightened with another sniffle. “You really think you can guarantee that?”

“No. But now I have hope again. That’s what your name means in our ancestral language — hope.”

Kumi gave Malka a rare smile. “You remembered.”

“How could I forget?” He returned the smile, wistful as it was. “You only told me about a hundred times.”

“What does—” Tumaini caught himself. “What did Afua’s name mean?”

“Mercy, or forgiveness,” Malka told him quietly. “Something we could all use right now.”

Kumi’s expression became sombre once more as she faced Tumaini again. “You mean everything to that Kopa kid, you know. He looks at you the way... the way I always wished you and your brother would look at me.”

Tumaini bristled. “I’d never put him through what you did to us.”

“I know, son,” she conceded. “It’s too late for me, but not for you.”

“He deserves better,” he mumbled, remembering his friend’s scathing words. “He made me see that I didn’t want to be alone, and I was selfish to want things to stay the way they were. I can’t even look him in the eye now.”

“Tumaini,” said Malka firmly. “It may not mean much coming from your fool of a father, but I want you to take my advice just this once. Fight for the people in your life, the ones that really matter to you. And don’t you ever stop, because nothing feels worse than accepting emptiness. This I know better than anyone.”

Tumaini laughed self-deprecatingly. “Guess I finally know how you felt when I left, huh?”

“Not even close,” scoffed Kumi. “At least Kopa had the decency to tell you he was leaving.”

“Yeah, because I actually bothered to teach him manners,” Tumaini retorted. He ducked as his mother gruffly yet fondly pawed his ear, and was surprised to feel a smile emerge on his face. “I... I really missed you both. I couldn’t admit it to myself until now.”

Kumi cleared her throat. “Chumvi?”

Chumvi hastened forward, a little caught off guard after the prolonged exchange. “Yes, Your Majesty?” He wilted at her glare, and quickly amended, “Kumi, I meant Kumi.”

“Show my son into the Outlands. Siri could probably use some help with Kopa.”

“Right away, Your M—your Kumi–I mean–”

Tumaini peered at his mother in surprise. “You’re not coming with us?”

“I’ll meet you on the other side,” she told him. Just then her eyes darted about to take note of their surroundings. “First I’ll need to get rid of the spy that’s been following us.”

“A spy?” repeated Malka in alarm.

Kumi surreptitiously gestured for him to keep his voice down. “A cheetah, I suspect, likely the same one that you said was watching you earlier. You’re going to bait them out by taking everyone toward Mount Kilimanjaro. Leave the rest to me.”

“You don’t need my help?” asked Tumaini dubiously.

“I can handle one cheetah,” she assured. “The important thing is to get the jump on them, so they don’t slip away like last time. You just worry about finding your kid.”

“He’s not my kid,” he reminded her with a scowl. “That’s kinda the whole point.”

Kumi smirked, and so did a couple of the others. “Then I think you missed the point, son. Now get going.”

Nonplussed at the knowing looks he was getting from his pride, Tumaini weaved his way around the makeshift circle of lions, now following Chumvi away from Mount Kilimanjaro. The setting sun slipped ever closer toward the horizon, and overhead the moon was already dimly visible against the orange-pink sky.

Chumvi’s trot picked up into a steady dash, and Tumaini did the same, regulating his breathing in accordance with his pace. We have a lot of ground to cover before we’ll catch up to Kopa. And those Outlands aren’t exactly an improvement after nightfall.

Doesn’t matter. Even if he doesn’t want me around, I won’t let him face Janga on his own.

•••

With Tumaini and Chumvi gone, Kumi strode over to the prone form of the crippled ashen-maned lion laying between two nearby trees. She bent down and pressed a paw against his neck before straightening with a satisfied nod. “Good, I thought I might have killed this one.”

He groggily turned his head toward her. “Wh... what are...” Horror entered his features as his eyes flitted downward to his body. “I can’t... I can’t move!”

“That’s the idea,” Kumi told him. “Keep quiet, I’ll get to you shortly.”

Malka eyed the crippled lion with some misgiving. “Kumi, what exactly do you intend to do with him?”

“Take a walk, Malka,” she responded breezily. “You have enough bad dreams as it is.”

Slowly, he shuffled off with the others, a few of them casting glances her way as they disappeared into the forest as well. Kumi bent down next to the ashen-maned lion once more, and whispered, “Whatever you can still move, don’t or you’ll lose it. You’ve been warned.”

Her ears straightened at the faint sound of rustling nearby, moving in the same direction Malka’s group had gone. Kumi noiselessly turned toward the bushes and adjusted her crouched stance before launching herself over the crippled lion. Her paws landed upon empty leaves, but the hasty rustling ahead told her the cheetah wasn’t far.

Kumi dove into the undergrowth and muscled her way through the leaves before spotting a yellow-brown tail poking out in front of her. She dropped into a prone position and swiped into the bushes, making contact with a pair of hind paws. A leafy thud was heard, and as the leaves flattened around her quarry, Kumi leaped up through the opening and knocked the cheetah out with a well-aimed strike under the chin.

As Kumi dragged the cheetah out of the bushes, she paused when she noticed the sigil on her shoulder. The hippo had the same symbol on his shoulder too. I think the tribe taught me about it once... but I can’t be sure where it’s from. She looked up to see Malka and his group join her, and waved them back as they began crowding around.

“She’s so... young,” breathed Fika, peering at the cheetah in surprise.

“I started younger,” Kumi said pointedly. She indicated the marking of the lion head tree. “That look familiar to any of you?”

The others shook their heads. “Siri would know,” said Bidi. “She’s been everywhere.”

Kumi frowned. “Whoever they are, it seems like they’ve been watching us for a while.”

“So she’s an enemy?” Malka asked cautiously. “They wouldn’t hide from us if they were on our side, right?”

“That kind of thinking, brother, is how amateurs get killed,” came Fujo’s voice from the trees. The enigmatic lion marched into view, looking more alert and energetic than the rest of them combined. He shook his head as he approached, staring down at the cheetah’s unconscious form. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, Kumi?”

“What?” she retorted defensively. “She’s not dead or even badly hurt. I used an old tribal technique, she’ll be fine.”

Fujo cast her a baleful look. “This is Fuli of the Night Pride, whose odds of helping us were very good until you did this.”

“Well...” she blustered, now recognizing the Night Pride sigil on Fuli’s shoulder. “It would’ve been helpful if you mentioned that sooner.”

He pressed his paw to his face. “Brother?”

“What is it, Fujo?” asked Malka.

“Bring our guest of honour into the Hollow. Give her your sincerest apologies. Don’t let Janga’s lions find her.”

“Speaking of which, I should get back to interrogating the one I paralyzed,” Kumi stated. Fika and Bidi picked up Fuli and carefully began marching her away.

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t get too excited,” Fujo said flatly. The two of them turned to head back to where the crippled lion laid.

Malka cleared his throat. “Kumi?”

Kumi turned and peered over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry about what I said,” the king told her bashfully. “I don’t think you’re... you know.”

She gave him a strained smile. “And I didn’t leave because of you. Well, not just because of that. Truce?”

“Sure,” grinned Malka tiredly. “Until the next time you get on my nerves, at least.” He hurried off after Fika and Bidi, bound for Mount Kilimanjaro.

As Kumi turned back to Fujo, she saw him watching them with a strange air of melancholia. He caught her eye and his expression quickly shifted back into its usual mask of impartiality. They soon returned to the ashen-maned lion, whose breathing quickened frantically upon spotting the two of them approach.

“Don’t be so dramatic, the worst part’s already over,” Kumi scoffed as she and Fujo stood on either side of the crippled lion. “That’s the good news, the bad news is you’re never walking again. But I have a solution for that too.” She placed a paw over his throat, and he gave a gurgling wail in response.

Fujo raised a paw. “Wait, I think he’s trying to say something. Perhaps we ought to let him do that first.”

Kumi lifted her paw with a shrug. “Sure. Though I’d want someone to kill me quickly if this happened to me. Okay, cripple, what’s your name?”

“Husuda,” the ashen-maned lion gasped.

“Alright, Husuda, I’ve heard a lot about your Duara Vunja ever since you invaded my kingdom. For a bunch of lions claiming peace, you sure do a lot of killing.”

“And you don’t?” sputtered Husuda.

“Sure I do. But only to protect what’s mine.”

He managed a snort of disdain. “Mount Tempest isn’t yours. Your pride drove out the ones who built it.”

“Yes, I’m sure Bane’s told you all sorts of things,” Kumi said. “I’m sure he’s left out plenty as well. Let’s talk wild dogs since we’re on the subject. How many are they up to?”

Husuda grinned, agonized as it was. “More than the rest combined. Enough to drown your pride in blood if that’s what it takes.”

“More than the rest?” repeated Kumi. “The rest of who?”

He shut his mouth, making it clear he was not about to elaborate. With a growl, Kumi pressed his ear against the ground, and he screamed as her claws pierced clean through.

“You can’t walk but you still can feel,” she snarled in his bleeding ear as he writhed in agony. “Remember that when I ask you a question. Who are they?”

“Fine, it won’t make a difference anyway,” Husuda wheezed. “The... The Keepers. You’ll never beat them, not if you had every pride around here backing you. They’ve waited years for this.”

Kumi glanced up at Fujo, who gave an affirmative nod to denote that Husuda was speaking the truth. She mulled over his words for a moment. “So why’d they send you, if they have an enormous army?”

“They didn’t know we were going to attack Mount Tempest,” he disclosed. “Janga was ordered to leave your pride for the wild dogs, but she was concerned Bane would force you into a siege. She wanted a straight path through the mountains... so she made her own call.”

That tracks with what Fujo told me before I left, Kumi recalled. “I’ve been thinking about that too. How did Janga lure my pride outside for the ambush?”

Husuda fell silent for a moment. “I... I don’t know,” he responded.

“He’s lying,” Fujo cut in.

Without hesitation, Kumi’s claws stabbed into Husuda’s other ear, causing him to howl once again. She swatted the blood from her claws before retracting them. “Come on, Husuda, don’t tell me all your friends are slow learners like you. That’d be pretty insulting after what you did to my pride.”

Husuda’s jowls quivered unsteadily. “Th-there’s someone in your pride — playing b-both sides — that’s all I know, honest... I wasn’t told... who it was...” His words trailed off into a pitiful whine.

Fujo nodded again, and Kumi drew back as she pondered this. “Guess Malka was right, there is a traitor in the pride. You’re gonna have to keep your eyes and ears open for everyone entering the Hollow.”

“I always do,” he replied coolly. “Did you have any more questions?”

“No. Did you?”

“You were quite thorough, and now we know what we’re up against.”

“But Kopa doesn’t,” Kumi realized suddenly. “He thinks Janga’s the head of the snake, and if he kills her—”

“You really think he’d do it?” asked Fujo, raising an eyebrow.

“I see it in him,” she told him with utmost certainty. “The Spirit of Death follows that one around, as my old tribe would say. Though right now she’s probably waiting on us to oblige her.” She indicated Husuda, who gave a panicked squawk upon hearing this.

He nodded. “Shall I do the honours?”

“Oh no, there’d be no honour in that.” Kumi placed one paw over Husuda’s mouth as he began gibbering incomprehensibly. Her other paw closed around his throat. “I prolonged his misery, so I should be the one to end it.” With that, she snapped his neck with a sharp crack, letting go as his head lolled to one side.

Fujo did not so much as flinch as he turned away from the dead lion. “That’s that, then. I presume we’re going to look for Kopa now?”

“You presume right,” said Kumi, straightening. “Seeing as there’s a traitor in our pride, that kid is probably one of the only lions we can trust for sure.”

“True, and keeping him safe will secure the Serengeti Pride’s aid,” Fujo readily agreed. “Very well, let’s split up. I’ll find you when I need to.”

For a brief moment, it occurred to Kumi that if the traitor was Fujo, the rest of the pride would be none the wiser. But she couldn’t see the angle, and the thought quickly dispelled as she took off in a separate direction from him. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had answered Malka’s question.

“They wouldn’t hide from us if they were on our side, right?”

“That kind of thinking, brother, is how amateurs get killed.”

•••

The desolate landscape of the Outlands was illuminated in a brilliant flash of lightning, and Kopa turned his head as his ears filled with the sound of rain once more. The storm had come suddenly and aggressively, and he folded his ears against his head as a crackling thunderclap went off above him. He used one paw to brush aside a tuft of mane that was trickling water onto his nose, when his paw slipped on a slick patch of mud and caused him to lose his balance.

Kopa toppled off the side of the path with a cry and rolled into a deep ditch below. Wincing, he peered around, and his breath began to shake when he saw the bones littering the trench bed. They were riddled with dried-up barnacles and plastered in slimy leaves, and his stomach lurched in dread. This is a dried-up river... I’m lying in a riverbed!

He leapt to his paws as he caught the sound of rushing water through the rainstorm, and scrambled for the edge of the trench with wild abandon. The wall was steep and slippery, but he persistently hopped along its length, trying to find a spot where he could climb out. Another white-hot flash went off, and suddenly looming atop the cliff edge was the lioness from his nightmares; her red eyes glowed with murderous intent, and Kopa instantly relinquished his grip, plopping into the mud again with a thick splash.

He laid there on his back with the unrelenting deluge pelting down on him, morosely dwelling on his parting exchange with Tumaini. Why did I have to yell at him? We could’ve just left when he wanted to, but... he just wanted to stay angry at his parents. What’s he so afraid of that could be worse than losing them to Janga?

The tidal bore was drawing nearer now, close enough for him to see it crashing against the sides of the riverbed. Kopa rolled onto his front, ignoring the thick mud dripping from his underside. He faced the billowing current with slow, even breaths even as his heart pounded furiously in his chest, reminding himself of Tanzu’s words to keep him steady. “Water is the salve with which time heals all wounds. It guides us in reconciling the past with the present.”

“Twendeni safari,” Kopa murmured. “Moja kwa moja.”

He leaped straight up as the tidal bore surged upon him, and was swept up by the powerful current in a heartbeat. Water entered his throat but he immediately coughed it back up, squeezing his eyes and mouth shut as air rapidly escaped from his nostrils. A muffled boom of thunder was heard from above, and he furiously paddled toward the sound as his other senses were drowned out in the deluge.

“Please... s-stop...”

A spurt of bubbles escaped Kopa’s nose and mouth as he thrashed in the water, fighting off the memory of his own voice while still trying to swim his way up.

“Try not to take it too personally, cub. It’s your parents that need this reminder... and so does my daughter...”

Kopa’s claws instinctively swiped out and was briefly met with resistance — and then he felt his paw reach empty air. With one last vigorous kick, he propelled himself upward and his head broke the surface. To his relief, the water had lifted him high enough to reach the top of the riverbed. The front of the tidal bore was now far ahead of him, and as its current began to let up a little, he managed to brace himself against a pivot in the trench and haul himself up and out.

Kopa shook the water from his fur, even though the rain showed no sign of letting up. He lowered his head and let the droplets trickle from his mane, panting from exertion as he stared into the rapidly flooding riverbed. “You can’t hurt me,” he said defiantly. “I don’t have to be scared of you.”

The surrounding landscape was lit up by another lightning bolt, and it was then that he saw them — nine or ten hyenas, their silhouettes etched against the night as the flash of light reflected in their eyes. They were closing in on all sides, quickly enough that he could now make out their dark fur with his night vision.

Though he hadn’t fully regained his breath, Kopa steadied himself and broke into a sprint, running along the trench before the hyenas could surround him. He leaped over the nearest one, who snapped at his hind legs but took a footpaw to the face instead. Landing on the other side without losing speed, Kopa glanced back to see the rest of the hyenas giving chase.

Blearily making out a bend in the trench through the thick of the downpour, he hopped atop a nearby boulder and launched himself over the half-filled riverbed, and despite an ungraceful tumble that splashed mud all over his pelt, Kopa managed to scramble up the craggy rocks on the opposite side of the ravine. He made it all the way to the top of the formation—

—and his paw caught on a wet patch of smooth stone, sending him into an unexpected slide down the other side. Kopa leaned back as far as he could, doing his utmost not to lose his balance and start rolling; his paws scraped loose a shower of stones and pebbles before his descent came to a gradual stop at the bottom of the slope.

Peering around, he could see nothing but fallen tree trunks and spiny plants amidst the waning rainfall. Somehow it was even more bleak and dreary than where he had just been — a fact not made better by the hyenas that popped up from the crudely hewn rocks before him.

The aging hyena at the forefront of the pack bared a grin through yellowed teeth. “Well, well. Look what we have here, boys and girls. No food like home-delivered, am I right?”

Kopa unsheathed his claws. “Your hyenas herded me here,” he growled in realization.

The old hyena gave a raucous if slightly unsteady laugh. “Oh, did they? Or maybe you’re just more prey than lion if it’s this easy to herd you.” He winced just then, and added in a surly tone, “I’d be out there with them if my bones weren’t killing me every time I took a step. You can’t do anything fun when you’re old.”

Behind Kopa, the other hyenas were also sliding their way down the slope with well-practiced ease. Seeing no other way out, he raised his hackles and positioned himself into a fighting stance. “You want to have some fun? Let’s see how many hyenas you can put between us before I rip you in half.”

The old hyena smirked. “You’re on, junior.” He nodded to the others, giving them the signal to make their move.

“Banzai? What do you think you’re doing?”

Every hyena froze in their tracks as another elderly hyena hobbled into view next to Banzai, who suddenly looked rather sheepish. “Uh, we’re taking care of this here lion, Shenzi. He was trespassing.”

Shenzi squinted in Kopa’s direction for a moment, craning her neck in a way that told him her eyesight was failing. Then to his surprise, she turned and smacked Banzai upside the head.

“Ow!” cried Banzai.

“You think I’m stupid?” Shenzi screeched in his ear. “That ain’t a couple of cubs fooling around in the elephant graveyard! It’s an adult! What adult lion would enter this dung heap on purpose?”

He rubbed his head ruefully. “So are we still eating him? Yow!” He yelped as she smacked him again.

“No, we’re not eating him, fur-brain! You forget what happened the last time you ticked off the king?”

“What do you think?” muttered Banzai. “I still got scars where the sun don’t shine...”

“Well, you’re liable to get a few more if Simba finds out you pulled this, you hear?”

Kopa blinked in surprise. “You have history with Simba?”

Shenzi stopped glaring at Banzai to shoot him a withering look. “Not exactly the good kind, but yeah. Who are you supposed to be, his brat?”

“Uh, I guess you could say that.”

“No kidding,” she snorted. “I was being sarcastic, all you lions look the same to me. Just my luck.” She made a disgruntled noise. “In that case, Your Highness, my hyenas will escort you back to the Pride Lands. Or the Outlands, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Wait,” said Kopa suddenly, having remembered something. “If you do know my father, does that mean... do you know a hyena named Fisi by chance?”

Shenzi paused, now eyeing him more closely. “Why?”

“If you do know him, then you probably know why.”

She continued to scrutinize him for a moment, before her expression morphed and she suddenly burst out into hysterical laughter; Banzai chuckled half-heartedly as well, casting her a confused sidelong glance as he did so.

The matriarch gave him a light shove to silence him, shaking her head mirthfully with a snicker. “Yeah, I think I do. It was you who ended his short-lived reign, wasn’t it? He complains about it to anyone who’d listen, and the best part is he still hasn’t realized he’s the idiot for using that clueless cheetah. Okay, yeah, this I gotta see.” Still cackling to herself, Shenzi motioned to a nearby hyena. “Go fetch Fisi. I don’t care if he’s asleep, tell him he’s being summoned to my den.”

This took a very strange turn, thought Kopa as he watched Shenzi hop down from her perch. Still, I’ll take this over having to fight them. He winced upon seeing her fall on her side and hurried forward to help her up.

She stubbornly waved him away, standing back up with a short grunt. “I always forget I can’t keep doing that at my age.” She gestured for him to follow her, while Banzai leaped down and landed with a pained yelp. She rolled her eyes as Kopa glanced back at him. “Sorry about Banzai. He’s loyal, but he’s got about as much sense as a pebble.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark!” exclaimed Banzai.

“Yeah, you do,” Shenzi deadpanned. She cast Kopa a quizzical look. “I gotta admit, I’m surprised you came alone. Then again, it sounds like daddy never told you about us.”

“Maybe he did,” mused Kopa. “I wouldn’t know.”

She tilted her head. “Huh?”

He peered around the decrepit conditions, from the hyenas huddled under crumbling pieces of shelter to the rancid, polluted pools of water collecting into every hole and crevice in the ground. “Why stay here? There’s gotta be somewhere better for your clan.”

“It’s not that simple, Your Highness,” Shenzi scowled. “There ain’t a patch of land around in any direction where we’d be welcome. Even our own brethren in the Outlands won’t accept us.”

“Why? What did you do that was so bad?”

The question seemed to bemuse her. “You really don’t know? About any of it?”

Kopa sighed. “Let’s just say I’ve been away a long time.”

She led him to a cracked and dripping stone overhang, where a cross-eyed hyena sat by its entrance. He gave a gibbering laugh upon spotting Shenzi and rushed forward to nuzzle her under the chin. She made a face of disgust and quickly pushed him away. “Okay, alright, I get it! Banzai, take Ed to relieve himself for the night.”

“But he already knows where to go,” Banzai complained.

Shenzi gave an impatient growl. “Well, you’re going to make sure he does go, unless you want him having another accident in the den.”

Banzai grumbled in response. “The only thing I hate more than being old is dealing with Ed being old. Come on, Ed.” He led the cross-eyed hyena away into the rain.

Kopa followed Shenzi into the den, where he saw eight hyenas standing guard along its walls. The matriarch clambered up onto the cluster of flat stones placed against the back wall, and couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy upon noticing her legs trembling as she eased her frail body into a sitting position.

Shenzi caught the look and waved a dismissive paw. “Spare me the pity, kid. I ain’t worth it.”

“My best friend thinks exactly like you,” he said in exasperation. “He didn’t even want to try and fix his mistakes, he just wanted to mope and shut himself out. Looks to me like that’s what you want too.”

“The only thing I want is to make sure my people are looked after once I’m gone,” she told him. “They’ve been through enough because of me.”

“They clearly have faith in you, to tough all this out,” Kopa insisted. “They still see your worth, you’re not gonna convince me otherwise.”

“I ain’t gotta convince you.” Her expression darkened, and her mouth twisted into a grimace. “I nearly killed your pops twice, both times when he was a cub. Scar gave the order, but I was happy to do it.”

Well, that definitely explains a lot. But this didn’t shock him terribly. “Would you do it again? Knowing what you know now?”

Shenzi snorted. “You want to know if I regret it? I regret nothing except how things turned out for my clan. I did the best I could with what I got, and I ain’t never apologizing for that.” Seeing his crestfallen reaction, she exhaled wearily. “Like I said, save your pity for someone who appreciates it. Turning over a new leaf ain’t my thing.”

“Not even to save your people, like you want so badly?” probed Kopa.

“If only that was all it took,” Shenzi muttered, although her tone suggested she didn’t outright hate the thought.

Just then another hyena entered the den, rainwater dripping from his fur as he rubbed his eyes grumpily. “It’s almost my turn for the night shift, Shenzi. Couldn’t this wait until the rain stopped?”

She smirked and glanced in Kopa’s direction. “There’s someone you should meet, Fisi — or meet again, I should say.”

Shaking the sopping fur out of his eyes, Fisi took a closer look at Kopa and jumped into the air with an alarmed yelp. “You brought a lion here? Are you nuts?”

The matriarch gestured to the hyenas standing guard around her. “Does it look like I’m being sloppy?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about my safety or anything,” he muttered. Turning to Kopa, he said, “So... what are you doing here, lion?”

Kopa was knitting his brow in concentration, trying without success to recall what Fisi had looked like in his memory. “You’re the one who usurped Simba?”

“Is that what this is about?” asked Fisi nervously. “Because I technically didn’t do anything. That cheetah Kesho is the guy you want.” He made to leave, but Kopa moved in front of the opening to block him.

“Come on, Fisi, you love telling this story,” teased Shenzi, evidently enjoying the show.

“Not to a lion!” Fisi protested.

“It’s okay, he doesn’t bite.”

“Yes, I do,” Kopa assured him. “Keep talking. How did you lose the kingdom?”

A disgruntled look crossed the hyena’s face. “It was Simba’s little headache. He wrangled the answers outta Kesho by smuggling an elephant all the way to Pride Rock. I’m still not sure how he did it, actually...”

Shenzi groaned. “The underground caverns, you moron. There are passageways running beneath the Pride Lands, the kid obviously led the elephant through those.”

“Of course,” Kopa realized. “Afua knew the caverns better than anyone. That’s why I needed him to pull it off.”

“And the rest is history,” laughed the matriarch. “I bet that crazy monkey of yours painted the whole story somewhere.”

Fisi’s eyes widened in alarm. “Wait, y—you’re the princeling? You’re Kopa?”

Kopa bared a wide smile, one that showed far more teeth than was necessary. “The one and only. You’re a lot smaller than I remember.”

The hyena backpedalled away panickedly, though this time it was Shenzi’s hyenas who obstructed him from leaving. “What do you want from me?”

“Show me the way to the gorge.” Kopa peered over at Shenzi. “Assuming your offer still stands.”

“If this means you’re ready to get off my turf,” she replied. “That makes two favours though, which means we’re even for the second time I tried to kill your dad.”

He shrugged. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“Why me, boss?” whined Fisi, still eyeing Kopa apprehensively.

“Ain’t that the question of my life,” Shenzi grunted. “Now get going.”

He grumbled some more, even as he headed back out the den. Kopa made to follow but stopped to look back at the matriarch again. “I’ll convince my father to help your people,” he promised.

“How?” she growled.

“I don’t care how,” he said fiercely. “This isn’t right, no one should have to live like this.”

“We can agree on that much,” conceded Shenzi. “But ‘should’ ain’t exactly how life works, is it? It drags you by the throat and won’t even let you breathe.”

Kopa thought back on everything that had brought him to where he was, how long it had taken him just to make it this far — and how close he was to finally getting the answers he was after. “Yeah,” he murmured. “But you either fight the current or you drown.”

Chapter Text

Have I seen you somewhere?
Heard the wind calling names,
Holding on, holding on, howling.
I’ve been waiting for you out there,
Heard the rain chanting pain
Holding on, holding on, a warning.
—Wu Qing-feng / AURORA, “Storm”

“This seems a bit dramatic, anybody else agree?” complained Timon as he was escorted up the side of Pride Rock amidst a procession of animals.

“Coming from you, that must be saying something,” Simba remarked, peering about to make sure the others were following close behind.

“I’m not dramatic!” Timon screeched. “Dramatic things happen to me, there’s a difference! No one likes peace and quiet more than I do!”

“Timon, could you be quiet?” Afua requested as they entered the bustling interior of the royal den. “You’re gonna start a panic with all these animals around.”

The meerkat scowled at him. “Hey, don’t blame me, kid. We’re only getting crammed in here because you got a headache or some mystical nonsense.”

“Actually, Timon, it’s just science,” Pumbaa chimed in from his other side. “When hot air and cold air collide, they can make thunderstorms, but they also change the air pressure so much that—”

“Pumbaa, the only air pressure around here comes out your behind,” grumbled Timon. “Now stop making stuff up, how can air collide with anything? It’s air!”

Sarafina stood at the forefront of the crowd, doing her utmost to keep the disorganized animals calm and orderly within the confines of the usually spacious den. She stopped to take a breather when she saw Simba walking over and asked, “Is this the last of them?”

“Thankfully yes, cause I don’t think we can fit anyone else in here,” Simba replied, motioning for the new arrivals to get settled. They filed past one by one, squeezing through whatever room was left in the den. “The rest have either found refuge or opened their homes to the ones that don’t.”

“Have you seen Kiara?” Sarafina asked, peering about for her granddaughter.

“She’s with Kovu, they’re making sure everyone in the area is accounted for,” Simba told her. “The earthquake destroyed a lot of places we could have used for shelter, so we’re cutting it a little close.”

Seeing the old lioness’ worried look, Afua spoke up. “She still has time to get back, Sarafina. The storm isn’t going to hit until midday.”

“You said it’ll be a bad one,” she recalled.

“I did, but it’s also been beating down on the Outlands half the night. If we’re lucky, it might even run out by the time it reaches us.”

Zazu soared down from the dreary morning sky and into the crowded royal den. He landed neatly before Simba with a ruffle of his feathers. “The animals near the Zuberi River have been evacuated, sire, as well as those along the southern border.”

“That’s good to hear.” Simba exhaled in relief. “Thanks, Zazu. You should get comfortable.”

The hornbill saluted with one wing and flapped off over the gathered animals. As Sarafina padded off as well, Simba turned his attention to Afua, allowing himself a moment of reprieve from the hectic arrangements. “Are you sure the den can take all our weight?”

“You seriously want to ask me that now?” said Afua, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, I made sure I wouldn’t have to fix those columns again. The only way they’re moving is if somebody wants them moved.”

“Then we’d better keep that quiet,” Simba muttered. “How long did you say this storm was going to last?”

“Most of the day, probably. It’s moving slow but it could let up by nightfall.”

“And how likely is it to let up before it gets here?”

Afua crinkled his nose. “Not very. I only said that to make Sarafina feel better.”

“I thought so.” Simba fell into silent contemplation for a moment. “There’s still time before midday.”

“Hard to tell, but yeah,” said Afua, peering into the overcast morning. Seeing the king turn around to face the mouth of the den as well, he guessed, “You’re going back out there, aren’t you?”

“Kiara only finished her recovery yesterday,” Simba said firmly. “I need to make sure she gets back.”

“Kovu will make sure she does – or at least find somewhere to wait out the storm with her.”

The king fretted, claws anxiously scratching the stone floor. “I can’t take it on faith that she’ll be alright, Afua. The last time there was a storm this big...”

“I know,” said Afua quietly, not needing to hear him say it. “Well, if you’re set on going, then so am I.”

“Really?” Simba looked surprised at the offer.

“I was the one who told you to keep a closer eye on Kiara. I didn’t think you’d be so vigorous about it when you did.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“It wasn’t a compliment. You have a tendency to overstep her boundaries when you worry about her. That’s the reason I’m coming.”

“Fair enough,” Simba admitted. “Well, I should still thank you, Afua. Now we’re prepared for the storm heading our way, and we won’t have to know how many lives would’ve been lost otherwise.”

“Thank my brother, he was the one who nearly cracked my head open,” muttered Afua. “Guess I’m a natural when it comes to suffering in the service of others.”

He saw sadness slip into Simba’s features. “Afua, I’m sorry...”

“Don’t say it,” groaned Afua, now walking for the exit with the king beside him. He gestured to his blinded eye and the scars running along the side of his head. “You didn’t do this to me, and honestly I’m not sure I want to hear the words from the person who did. It’s not like he can take my headaches away, so I’d rather just not dwell on it.”

“But that’s when you dwell on him the most, isn’t it?” asked Simba as they left the den. “Your brother?”

Afua’s mouth tightened as a cascade of rage and fear crashed against one another in his aching head. He did not respond until Pride Rock was behind him. “Sometimes I wish that rock had hit my head a little harder. It would have been a relief to just forget it all.”

•••

Having searched the Outlands all night and into the day, Tumaini was exhausted and soaked to the bone by the time the storm finally subsided. The sun looked to be at about midday, and the sky was gradually lightening to a friendly blue as the raging storm clouds drifted into the Serengeti proper. I didn’t even see the sun come up in all this, he thought, blearily watching as Chumvi emerged from a nearby den, dripping water just like he was.

“It’s no good,” the brown-furred lion said tiredly. “The jackals haven’t seen him either.”

Tumaini gritted his teeth in frustration as the two of them hurried on. “There’s gotta be someone who has.”

“Even the Outlanders aren’t crazy enough to be out in this storm. Kopa might have already made it to the other side.”

“Yeah, and what if he hasn’t?” griped Tumaini. “I’m supposed to just leave him here?”

He approached another cave-like den only to see Siri step out from the darkness, her thick fur sticking fast to her body. “He’s not in there, I already checked.”

“Siri?” Tumaini stumbled to a halt. “Have you been out here all night?”

“Pretty much,” she said irritably. “My paws couldn’t keep up with Kopa, so I lost him in the rainstorm pretty quick. Would’ve helped if you were there.”

He sighed. “Yeah. This is my fault. I froze when I should have acted.”

“Yeah, you’re more like your dad than you think,” muttered Siri. “I’d save the moping for when there’s time. Right now we should split up and cover as much territory as we can.”

Chumvi peered about nervously. “Split up? In the Outlands?”

She rounded on him in exasperation. “Chumvi, when was the last time you’ve been in the Outlands?”

He thought about it for a moment. “It’d have to be the time I escaped the Pride Lands.”

“I thought so,” Siri grunted. “Things have changed around here in the last year or so. The Outlanders are trying to make it more welcoming and habitable.”

“Really?”

“Really. They even have an overseer now. I’ve met her, she’s nice.”

“I don’t suppose she can help us find Kopa?” asked Tumaini hopefully.

“She could be anywhere in the Outlands at any given time,” Siri told him. “We’d be wasting time chasing after her trail, not to mention she’s got her own day-to-day problems to worry about.”

“Okay,” he said in resignation. “Splitting up it is. But we’d better be out of here before sundown.”

Chumvi nodded and hurriedly dashed off along the westward path. Siri made to head in the opposite direction, as nimbly as her bad paw would allow.

“Siri,” called Tumaini.

She stopped and looked back over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry about all this,” he said ruefully. “It’s not your mess to clean up.”

“I’ve seen worse,” replied Siri. “And when it comes to you, I’ve had enough conversations with your parents to get the idea at this point.”

Tumaini self-consciously swatted a stone lying near his paw. “I was just... afraid of what Kopa would think of me, if my brother really was alive. The things he might have heard...”

“I don’t think I’m the one you should be telling this to,” she huffed.

“You’re right,” he admitted in vexation. “I just... I care what you think about me, okay?”

Finally, Siri turned around in earnest. Her grey eyes held neither assurance nor condemnation. “Tumaini, I don’t think anyone should ever force you to share your past — not even Kopa. But he’s not insane and I’m sure you know it.”

“Yeah, it was an awful thing for me to say. And he’s right, it was my idea to take you myself. I just thought that...”

“That you could control everything, if you tried hard enough,” Siri finished for him.

Despite himself, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Well, it sounds absurd when you say it like that.”

“It is absurd — just like the way you’re getting all distracted making eyes at me right now.”

“Wha—” sputtered Tumaini, and she grinned upon seeing his face turn slightly red. “I am not making eyes at you!”

Siri laughed heartily, and it was then that he realized he had never heard her laugh before; it was a nice laugh too, an observation which only furthered his annoyance. “As for what I think about you, I’m trying not to right now so I can focus on finding Kopa. You should do the same.”

Trying? Does that mean she finds it hard not t—no, stop it! Tumaini shook his head and turned toward the north path. “And what if we run into your girlfriend?”

“Janga is not my girlfriend,” scowled Siri.

“Well, she was your something,” he teased, now enjoying her flustered reaction. “Let’s both come up with a plan by the time we reconvene. See you at the border.” He took off before she could come up with a response, sprinting down the north path into a dry gully.

As Tumaini ran, his thoughts returned to what Kopa had said about Afua. I blinded him in one eye? No wonder he let us think he was dead. Not that I’m one to talk... A deluge of turmoil arose at the thought of what he would say if he did come face-to-face with his brother. He quelled his anxiety, reminding himself that Janga was not the only threat to worry about. You want to make things right, then start by keeping him safe — both of them.

Tumaini spotted a tunnel sitting beneath a slanted rock and peered inside. It was lined with sharp outcroppings that rather resembled fangs, which gave the tunnel entrance an uncanny resemblance to a lion’s mouth. He marched inside, eyeing the sparse strands of fur strewn beneath his paws. No one’s been here in a while. But that’s definitely lion fur, so I gotta be sure.

The tunnel soon led out to the other side of the gully wall, where he was greeted by a dead end encircled by a series of tall cliffs. As he suspected, there was no one present. Tumaini sighed and made to head back out through the tunnel, when a voice came from above.

“I thought you might find a way back to us. But I admit I wasn’t certain.”

Tumaini stiffened. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in years, and yet it was one he still vividly remembered. “That’s a first,” he said tersely as he slowly turned around.

From atop the cliffs before him, Fujo gave an unusually light laugh as he peered down at Tumaini. “If only. It’s good to see you, nephew.”

“Am I supposed to say the same for you?”

“Do as you wish,” Fujo replied prudently. “I begrudge you nothing, except what happened with your brother, obviously.”

“Mom mentioned that you found him. You could have said something.”

“Did you?”

Tumaini scowled. “Point taken. I guess I’m not any better than either of you.”

With an agile leap, Fujo hopped onto a series of rock pillars and expediently made his way down to Tumaini, who did not move as he watched him with cold detachment. The older lion landed in front of him and scrutinized him keenly. “All this time you’ve been away, and you still see us in your reflection. My question is, have you figured out who you are, Tumaini?”

Tumaini turned away, already seeing that his uncle hadn’t changed much, if at all. “I have, believe it or not. And before you think about dragging me into whatever you’re up to, the answer’s no. I’m looking for someone right now.”

“Perhaps I can be of assistance,” Fujo offered.

“I said no,” Tumaini told him firmly. “We’re not doing this, uncle.”

The older lion ignored him and closed his eyes, taking a sitting position as he placed his paws on the floor. He took a deep breath and held it before letting it out again. “Adult male around Afua’s age, scars on the forelegs and abdomen. Is that the someone you’re after?”

Tumaini’s jaw dropped, unable to hide his flabbergasted reaction. That was fast, even for him. “Tell me where he is. Now.”

Fujo opened one eye. “Before I answer, would you indulge me by telling me why you seek Prince Kopa of the Serengeti Pride?”

How did... he knows Kopa’s name? And — Prince Kopa? Since when? Mind reeling, Tumaini distractedly responded, “I took him in after I ran away from the pride. That’s all you need to know.”

“I suppose it is,” his uncle agreed with a wry grin. “He’s heading for the gorge with a hyena as his guide. I’m sure you still know the way.”

“Yeah.” Tumaini turned to leave once more.

“You may want to hurry,” added Fujo. “It looks like he’s been confronted by more hyenas.”

Great. I might need Siri and Chumvi for backup, but what if there’s no time? Tumaini gritted his teeth, deciding to figure it out on the way. “Don’t think this changes anything. I came back for the pride, not to piece our family back together.”

“I know, nephew,” Fujo told him, eyes flinty and unreadable. “Rest assured, the same is true for me.”

•••

“I told you this would happen,” grumbled Fisi, turning every which way but only seeing more hyenas blocking them from each direction.

Kopa, backing up from the opposite side, bumped against him and they came to a halt. “No you didn’t.”

“I did! It must’ve been the... seventh or eighth thing I was going on about earlier.”

“Well, I stopped listening after the first three,” Kopa said shortly. “You complain too much.”

“Quiet,” interjected one of the other hyenas. “The overseer is here to decide what to do with you.”

“Good,” muttered Kopa, anxious to be on his way again. Fujo said Janga would reach the Serengeti today. We can’t delay much longer.

Fisi, however, did not share his sentiment. “What do you mean ‘do with us’? I didn’t—”

“Trespassing again, Fisi?” chided the overseer, a young hyena striding out from between the others. “You really want to mistake my kindness for weakness, hm?”

Kopa’s brow knitted as he felt a familiar stirring in his memory. “Asante?”

The overseer directed her attention to him, eyebrow raised curiously. “Sorry, you’ve got me confused for someone else. The name’s Jasiri, and who are you? Fisi’s latest accomplice?”

“Why do you always assume I’m up to something?” protested Fisi.

“Because you are,” Jasiri responded. Her eyes darted to Kopa again, and she frowned as if something was bothering her. “You’re not the first lion to pass through these parts today, but you are the first to make the crossing alone. Not counting him.” She indicated Fisi.

“You have to let me go,” Kopa implored. “Those lions are about to invade the Serengeti.”

She looked momentarily startled at this, but quickly regained her composure. “A bold claim,” she said cautiously. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I’m the firstborn prince of the Serengeti Pride. My name is Kopa.”

“Right.” Jasiri narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him more closely. “What’s your sister’s name, Kopa?”

“I...” Kopa faltered, involuntarily breaking eye contact. “I didn’t know I had a sister.”

“Uh-huh. How about your brother? Surely that’s an easy one.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted heatedly.

“Well, I do,” growled Jasiri. “For starters, I know for a fact that the princess is the firstborn, not you. And her brother is a close friend of mine, but he’s never mentioned you either.” She motioned for her hyenas to move in.

“They think I’m dead!” Kopa burst out. “My family thinks I died years ago, and it’s taken me this long to even remember where I came from.”

At this, the overseer glanced toward Fisi, who shrugged and said, “He was around before you were born, but it’s not like you’re gonna take my word for it.”

“But there’s someone whose word I would,” said Jasiri decidedly. “Alright, Fisi, come with me. I’ll have someone escort you back to your clan.”

Kopa stepped forward impatiently. “What about me?”

She cast him a guarded look. “You’re staying here while I verify your story with Simba.”

“There’s no time for this!” he insisted.

“You’re right, I’m occupied enough attending to the Outlanders who’ve been flooded out of their homes,” Jasiri snapped. “The ones that haven’t collapsed after the earthquake, that is. I’ll pass along your warning about those lions, don’t you fret — so cooperate if you want me to trust you.”

In a flash, Kopa bound forward and knocked Fisi over, prompting a startled squeal from the hyena. Kopa took advantage of the momentary opening to bolt past Jasiri, who immediately responded in kind along with her pack. He gave forth an extra burst of speed, knowing that the hyenas would eventually outlast him if he did not put some distance between them first.

All the better if we don’t have to fight. The overseer doesn’t seem like a bad sort, but I can’t waste any more time trying to convince her. Peering back at her once more, Kopa mulled over the name that had sprung into his mind earlier. Asante. I definitely knew a hyena by that name. Guess my brother takes after me.

A cold pit formed in his stomach as Jasiri’s words lingered in his ears. He never mentioned me to anyone? Does he even know about me? Or did my parents... want to forget me?

•••

Even after years away from the Pride Lands, Janga still hated the sight of the gorge. The fleeting moisture had quickly evaporated despite the recent rainfall, as if life itself was reluctant to take hold within the long stretching chasm. This place has claimed no shortage of lives though. Its only nature is to take, not give.

She gazed up at the prominent cliffs separating the Serengeti from the less favourable canyons opposite to it. Her team had made it through the Outlands in the wake of the violent rainstorm, though it had taken them some time to find a feasible way to cross the Zuberi River and enter the gorge. After that, there was nothing to do but wait.

Dusk was drawing near by the time Kivuli’s team arrived to scale their way down into the gorge. There was still no sign of Jeraha, though Janga quelled her irritation as she turned her attention to the approaching Kivuli. “You’re late.”

“There was a complication,” Kivuli said brusquely.

Janga caught the way her friend’s gaze hovered on the thin scab over her right eye. “What kind of complication?” she asked, ignoring the look.

“The kind that can split the ground apart with a single roar.”

Janga paused with a frown. “The Roar of the Elders? I thought Prince Kion had left the Pride Lands.”

“Well, I’m almost certain that’s who we encountered,” Kivuli told her. “I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but the clouds, they moved. They looked almost like...”

“Lions?” Janga finished. The silence she received in response said enough. “When did it happen?”

“Two nights ago, at the edge of the canyons. We had Malka cornered when the blast forced us apart. The barricade was blown everywhere like a bunch of feathers.”

“So the Lion Guard has returned,” mused Janga. “That’s another complication for us.”

“Which means what?” Kivuli inquired. “We’ll have to call off the plan and restrategize, right?”

Janga whirled about to face the gorge. “Absolutely not, we’ve come too far to stop. For now, we wait for Jeraha.” She peered over her shoulder when she saw that the grey-furred lioness hadn’t moved. “You’re dismissed, Kivuli.”

“Then if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to my friend,” said Kivuli firmly, padding over to sit beside her. “You look tired, Janga. You haven’t stopped since we’ve taken Mount Tempest.”

“Mount Tempest wasn’t the goal,” growled Janga. “But the Keepers wouldn’t have let Bane do what we did.”

Kivuli snorted. “Great, you’ve saved a bunch of wild dog blood from getting spilled. Are you sure that’s not gonna come back to bite us later?”

“We spared Malka’s pride a lot of bloodshed too, not that they’d know it,” Janga laughed bitterly. “They’d never have outlasted that many wild dogs in a siege.” She stared into the depths of the gorge, wistfulness etched into her features now. “Do you remember the last time we were here?”

“Of course. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many hyenas.”

“Scar sent them to kill me,” reflected Janga. “We survived that night because of Nuka — and we left him behind.”

“There was nothing we could do,” Kivuli said. “We barely had a chance to make it out ourselves.”

Janga shook her head fervently. “There is always something we can do, Kivuli, that’s why we’re standing here. You, me, and...” She heard a clatter behind her and turned to see Jeraha clambering down to join them. “Jeraha.”

To her surprise, only Saka could be seen with him. The burly lion grimaced as he joined Janga on her opposite side. “Siri’s still alive,” he growled. “I was too late, not once but twice. She found help and now she’s gotten word to her pride.”

“Never mind that, as long as she doesn’t warn the Pride Lands,” intoned Janga. “Time isn’t on our side, especially with Kion back in the fray.”

“And he’s most likely heading this way as we speak,” Kivuli pointed out. “How are we going to talk Simba down when he’s got the Lion Guard?”

Janga closed her eyes and drew a deep breath before releasing it. “We won’t. Sometimes it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission, or not at all.”

“I like where this is going,” remarked Jeraha.

Kivuli shot him an irked look before fixing her eyes back on Janga. “What’s the play? We’ll follow your lead.”

Janga signalled to the other lions to form up, opting not to make any more noise than was necessary. As they marched behind her into the gorge, ten in all, she cleared her throat. “Listen up, Duara Vunja. What we are about to do will be barbarous, unforgivable even. But it will be the most important thing we ever accomplish together. We will infiltrate the Pride Lands through the Nandembo Caverns, and once we near Pride Rock, I will personally deliver my ultimatum to Simba. In the meantime, the rest of you are to topple Pride Rock from below — no matter what happens.”

A poignant silence fell over the other lions. Not even Jeraha or Kivuli spoke.

“If Simba accepts my terms, then I will alert him to the danger,” continued Janga. “If not, then I’ll be returning to you alone. Either way, Pride Rock will fall tonight and its kingdom with it.” She concluded the speech with no triumph in her voice. She didn’t even turn to look the other lions in the eye as they shuffled along.

Kivuli sped up a little so that they were side-by-side. “You’re willing to kill all of them? Even your mother?”

Janga did not answer at first. She did not want to say it out loud at all, but nonetheless responded, “I’m no hypocrite, Kivuli. I can only hope she’ll survive.” The words felt hollow, and still her paws continued to move her onward.

“There’s something else you should know,” Jeraha told her. “The two lions who protected Siri — one of them is Malka’s son.”

The twinge of irritation was enough to bring Janga back into focus. “Fujo didn’t bother mentioning him.”

“I don’t think Fujo knew. This lion looked like he was on his own, almost.”

“It’s safer to assume Fujo always knows,” muttered Janga.

“Wait,” interjected Kivuli. “What do you mean ‘almost’?”

“There was one other lion with him,” explained Jeraha. “I don’t know much about him, except that his name’s Kopa.”

Janga racked her brains, recalling if the name held any significance to her. “What does he look like?”

The burly lion came to an abrupt halt as they rounded a bend. “Like that.”

•••

Kopa stared down the approaching lions from the middle of the gorge where he stood, counting ten of them in all. In his efforts to lose Jasiri and her hyenas, he had been forced to enter the gorge from its opposite end, and had finally managed to locate the way into the Nandembo Caverns moments ago. Though with the Duara Vunja now on the move, he was out of time on figuring out a way to stop them. “You aren’t going any further, Janga,” he said sternly. “I know what you’re planning to do.”

The lioness with the thin brown fur — presumably Janga — held up a paw. The others came to a halt about twenty paces away from him as she locked gazes with him. “Do you? And what concern is it of yours, Kopa?”

Kopa reared back at being addressed by his name. Then he noticed Jeraha looming at her shoulder and realized he must have told her about him. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t expect her to be so... close to my age. She can’t be much older than Tumaini.

“You know my name and I know yours,” she observed. “But what’s your reason for standing between me and my mission without anyone at your side?”

Kopa stood a little straighter, shoulders held up firmly. “I am Prince Kopa of the Serengeti Pride, eldest son of King Simba and Queen Nala. Is that reason enough for you?”

For the first time, surprise flitted into Janga’s features. Her orange eyes narrowed. “And yet you aren’t in line to be king. You’re a pariah, like me.”

“Don’t,” Kopa growled. “I’m not like you.”

She smirked. “Your name goes unspoken in these lands, your birthright made forfeit. Your friends eagerly kill for the things they believe in, and... you helped Siri, as I once did.”

“Don’t say her name! Your big brute murdered a lot of my friends trying to get to her!”

The smirk vanished. “She meant more to me than you will ever know,” she growled. “But this isn’t about her, or me, or even you.” A strong wind blew through the gorge, ruffling the fur on her shoulders and pushing his mane back. “Get out of my way, Prince Kopa. I have no desire to kill you.”

He did not budge, instead staring contemplatively at the towering cliffs that stretched along behind Janga’s team. A flutter of trepidation passed through his heart in that moment. “I guess that makes one of us.”

Janga closed her eyes in resignation. When she reopened them, her expression was uncompromising. “Duara Vunja. Advance.”

Kopa stood firm as the enemy lions began marching toward him once again. Taking a deep breath, both to steady his nerves and in preparation for what he was about to do, Kopa roared with as much force as he could muster. The echoes bounced off the walls just like before, but this time the Duara Vunja did not falter, and the slow smile on Kivuli’s face told him he wouldn’t be able to pull the same trick twice.

The lions were speeding up into a run now, and Kopa roared again. Janga was now less than ten paces away, close enough that he could see the still-healing cut over her right eye. Planting his full weight against the ground, Kopa drew in as much air as possible before unleashing the most devastating roar that was almost like a desperate scream. The reverberations were tremendous enough to momentarily stagger the Duara Vunja as the echoes engulfed them — but not Janga, who didn’t so much as flinch as she closed in.

Suddenly, an enormous boulder hurtled to the ground with a crashing boom, causing everyone to recoil as bits of shattered stone flew everywhere. Kopa’s eyes widened as he saw chunks of the cliff sliding down overhead, and he immediately turned around to rush back the way he came. The ground began trembling as a massive rockslide descended upon them with inescapable fury.

I can’t believe that actually worked. He caught a glimpse of the cavern entrance but decided against trying to make it inside. I don’t want to be trapped in there — or give Janga any ideas. The lioness could still be heard close behind, and he peered over his shoulder to confirm that she hadn’t noticed the opening.

The rest of the Duara Vunja were being wrenched into the rockslide one by one from the back of their formation, most of them crushed beneath the bedlam of stone and dust without so much as a chance to scream. Kivuli looked up for a moment and dove into Jeraha, knocking him out of the way before a rock three times his size smashed into the ground where he had been; as the two of them rolled to a stop, Kopa caught a glimpse of the burly lion shielding her with his body before they too were swallowed up by the turmoil.

Kopa winced as a shard of stone struck him in the shoulder, struggling to maintain his speed despite the pain. Janga leaped through the air, teeth and claws bared at him — and then a boulder slammed down between them, the tremors of its impact causing him to stumble for a moment. Two more small rocks landed on his back, winding him enough to slow him down, and he cried out as he felt another pin his tail to the ground, yanking him to a halt and throwing him onto his front.

Gritting his teeth, Kopa managed to turn over and planted his footpaws on the rock, pushing as hard as he could. No, not now! Not when I’m so close... He gave a yell of pain and aggravation as the rockslide continued to rain down around him, trying to roll the rock away without crushing his tail. Dust flew into his face, causing him to gasp and cough violently.

A pair of paws appeared on the other side of the rock, and to Kopa’s surprise, he saw Tumaini standing over him, straining with exertion. “Less gawking, more pushing,” grunted the black-maned lion. “Not that it’s my tail stuck under this.”

His heart now racing with fervour, Kopa pushed with his footpaws once again, and this time the rock rolled to the side without difficulty. And in spite of the unrelenting pandemonium, a rush of emotion sprang forth upon seeing his friend amidst the peril crashing down around them.

Tumaini put one foreleg around Kopa’s shoulders to help him up, wincing as a sharp piece of stone bounced off his mane. “You ever get tired of making me push rocks? Up and over, Kopa, you first.”

Doing his best to take shallow breaths, Kopa hastily clambered over the pile of rubble that had formed by the edge of the gorge. He fell over the other side and landed in a heap, staggering upright as Tumaini emerged closely behind. The dust was only growing thicker with every breath, and the two of them hobbled away from the gorge, vigorously drawing in the cool evening air as the commotion finally began to settle behind them.

Unable to take another step, Kopa collapsed beside a rain puddle and lapped at the water in an attempt to chase the dryness from the inside of his mouth. Tumaini was doing the same, sneezing a few times as a fine dust flew from his pelt and mane. Kopa turned his head away, unable to hold back a shaky laugh as he did so. “Watch it, would you?”

Tumaini rolled over to face him, though neither of them bothered to get up. “You’re welcome. Now don’t ever do that again, seriously.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” Kopa shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if his friend hadn’t found him when he did, and he felt no small measure of guilt as he slowly sat up. “I’m sorry, Tumaini.”

“I feel like it’s me that should be apologizing,” confessed the black-maned lion, now getting up as well. “You were right, I can’t have it both ways. I didn’t want to admit that, so I took it out on you. I really let you down, kid.”

Kopa sighed. “I shouldn’t tell you how to feel about your parents.” His shoulders sagged wearily. “I just... all those years we spent in the forest, and I’ve only been mildly curious about my past. I never considered how much they might be hurting because they think I’m dead. Even if I... if I can’t remember them fully, I have to know if they still remember me. If they still... want to remember me.”

“I know,” Tumaini said solemnly, “and I promise I’m done standing in your way. As soon as this dust cloud clears, we’re going straight to the Serengeti Pride Lands.”

Kopa stood, wincing a little from the pain in his tail. “I think they just call it—”

“—the Pride Lands, yeah,” his friend deadpanned, rising as well. “Do me a favour and don’t pick up the habit.”

“Remind me to never leave the two of you alone,” came Kumi’s voice from behind them. “What in Mother Africa did you do?”

Kopa and Tumaini looked over their shoulders to see the ochre lioness approach with Siri and Chumvi, the three of them bathed in the fading light of the blood-red horizon. The black-maned lion looked disgruntled as he wearily dusted off his pelt. “Don’t blame me, mom. This one was all Kopa.”

Kumi scowled. “Yes, I’m sure you set a fine example for him.”

“I learned from the best,” her son muttered.

“Will you both give it a rest?” interjected Siri, before Kumi could even open her mouth to retort. “Kopa, what happened here? What did you do?”

Kopa’s breath caught in his throat just then. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the thought of being consumed by the rockslide was immediately swept away by the sheer horror of witnessing the others meet that exact fate. “I saw Janga,” he murmured. “I came face-to-face with her.”

Siri peered over to the gorge, from which the dust clouds were now rising in earnest. “Janga? You mean she’s...?”

“Dead, probably,” he intoned numbly. “Eight or nine others as well.”

“Kivuli?”

“Yeah.”

“What about Jeraha?” asked Tumaini.

“Him too.”

Every pair of eyes were on Kopa now, and he felt sickened as the full realization of what happened hit him. It was the only idea I had. I didn’t have time to think about what came after... He had learned how to fight and even kill outside of hunting, but never like this. It felt wrong, as if he had violated every law of nature in wiping out Janga and her lions so efficiently.

Chumvi was the first to find his voice again. “How did you do it? How?”

“Fujo gave me the idea,” Kopa admitted. “The gorge reflected sound easily, and I hoped the earthquake would’ve loosened up the cliffs.”

“You were right,” remarked Kumi approvingly. “Well-played, kid.”

“Mom!” Tumaini exclaimed, aghast.

She shot her son an irritated look. “What? We’re at war. Kopa just wiped out the Duara Vunja’s leadership and then some. You should be proud.”

“I didn’t want this for him!” he exclaimed angrily. “I didn’t want him to be like me!”

“I am like you,” said Kopa quietly, prompting Tumaini to look at him. “I’m not ashamed of that. You shouldn’t be either.”

“How can—but you—” His friend was at a loss, though nonetheless he managed to articulate, “I don’t understand. How can you even trust me again, just like that?”

Kopa made an exasperated noise. “Come on, Tumaini. I didn’t know the details, but it was pretty obvious you were running from something. Did you think I wouldn’t clue in after all these years?”

A look of despair entered Tumaini’s eyes. “I tried so hard to give you a peaceful life. A small part of the world that could be kinder to you than it was to me.”

“And I’d have all of that again if I could,” Kopa professed. “But we’ve made our choices and we can’t take them back. There’s only one path forward, buddy, and I’m going for it. Are you with me?”

“Always,” said Tumaini immediately, lifting his head a little now. “That’s the one thing I do know for sure. We’ll figure out the rest once we cross the border tonight.”

“No,” Kumi cut in, looking as if she had been mulling something over. “Not tonight, it isn’t safe.” As Kopa turned to her in bemusement, she elaborated, “It won’t be long before others from the Duara Vunja see what happened here. They can’t know you started the rockslide, Kopa.”

“But they don’t have anyone to lead them,” he argued. “You said it yourself.”

She growled in exasperation. “It’s not them you need to worry about. It’s the ones who sent them, and believe me when I say Janga was only the beginning. Now listen to me carefully, you’re gonna go with the others and lay low in The Hollow for a few days.”

Kopa lowered his gaze, not ready to accept this outcome. “But... we’re so close. I can’t turn back now.”

“Chumvi, is there another way into the Serengeti?” asked Kumi without taking her eyes off Kopa.

“We’d have to circle back into the Outlands, and even then the Zuberi is still flooded from the storm so our chances of a crossing aren’t great,” Chumvi informed them ruefully. “Sorry, Kopa, she’s right. We’re stuck on this side until the dust settles, and it might be too late for us by then.”

Kopa swatted a pawful of loose pebbles in frustration. “So what, they’re just going to believe this was an accident?”

“No, they’re going to think I did it,” said Kumi, now gathering some hardy berries growing out of the dry dirt. “More importantly, they’ll believe my tribe has declared war on them.” She crushed a few berries with one paw and began painting her face and neck with its colours.

Tumaini padded up to her and swiped the berries away. “You can’t be serious. Think this through, mom.”

She snatched the berries back in one deft move and continued painting without breaking her rhythm. “I have thought it through. Safina’s never going to budge unless she has no choice. We’re going to need their help. Now get going, you’re wasting time.”

“I can’t leave you here by yourself,” he said desperately.

“You’re really going to make me do this?” she groaned. “Just this once, Tumaini, could you not force me to be the bad guy?”

Tumaini took another step toward her, presumably to continue arguing, but Kumi’s free paw lashed out and caught him in the jaw with an uppercut. He crumpled to the ground in the blink of an eye, unconscious.

Kopa bound forward with a furious roar. Chumvi flinched, while Siri exclaimed, “Kumi, what are you—?”

Kumi waved them back, unconcerned. “He’s fine, I didn’t break anything.”

“You touch him again and I’ll kill you,” snarled Kopa.

“That’s the spirit,” she said flippantly. “That was a nice speech you gave about choices, now show me it wasn’t just talk. You can choose him or me — should be an easy one.”

“What about Afua?” he demanded.

A distant smile crossed Kumi’s expression. “I’d have liked to see him again,” she admitted. “But I get the feeling he’d rather see you than me, and face it, we’re not both getting away with this.”

Siri, who was helping Chumvi place Tumaini onto his back, implored, “Come with us, Kumi. We still need people like you.”

“No, Siri, there are enough people like me.” The ochre lioness nodded at Kopa. “What you need are more people like him.”

“Kumi,” said Chumvi somberly. “It’s... been an honour.”

“Likewise. Now go, it’ll be alright.”

Slowly, Siri and Chumvi shuffled off with Tumaini’s unconscious form. Kopa shook his head despondently, hardly able to believe what was being asked of him. “He won’t forgive you for this, you know. Or me, for abandoning you when he wouldn’t.”

“Then I have one last thing to teach you, Kopa,” replied Kumi. “Do what you must when it comes to the ones you love. Better they’re alive to resent you than you wishing they were.”

“Why me?” whispered Kopa, taken aback by the tears brimming in his eyes. They were the only words he could manage.

“Because you saved my sons,” she told him plainly, “in more ways than you even knew at the time. And your father was there for Afua when I wasn’t, gave him a home when he needed one — so I will ensure you make it back to yours.” Their heads turned as an echoing clatter was heard from the gorge. “Alright, kid, time for you to be gone. I’ll cover your tracks.”

Kopa bowed his head but said nothing else to her as he walked away after Siri and Chumvi. For the umpteenth time, he wondered if there was anything else he could have done differently. This all started because Tumaini and I chose to help Siri. I thought everything would work itself out if I just made the right choices, but this... none of this is how I imagined it. The closer I get to the truth, the more things go wrong.

He thought of his parents, and how much his hopes rested on the outcome of their eventual reunion. I can’t have come all this way for nothing. No, he would make sure of it — for Kumi, for his fallen friends in the forest, and for everyone else who had gotten him this far.

“Ngiza buya bo,” Kopa murmured, his words drifting away into the faint whisper of the wind. “I will return.”

•••

As Kopa and the others disappeared into the darkening night, Kumi marched herself to the cliffs over the gorge and peered down. A deathly silence hung in the air much like the swirling dust, and she whistled as she took in the results of the rockslide. He’s a natural, he just doesn’t know it yet.

She spotted something moving through the haze below, and without hesitation she stomped against the edge of the cliff before swiftly darting back. A sharp chunk of stone sheared itself from the rock face and plummeted into the chasm with a resounding crash. The movement stopped.

A muffled scream could be faintly heard from elsewhere, and the sound of rock shifting frantically denoted that someone had regained consciousness beneath the rubble. Kumi immediately kicked loose two more pieces of cliff, and the sound of rock breaking against rock emanated from below once more.

As the commotion settled, Kumi whirled around at the sound of heavy, ungainly pawsteps behind her. She saw Jeraha and Kivuli staggering toward her, both battered and bleeding and holding one another upright. Her initial surprise at seeing them crawl out of the gorge was quickly mitigated by the observation that despite their injuries, they had taken advantage of the noise to trap her against the edge of the cliff.

Jeraha wiped a trickle of blood from his forehead, his usually alert cyan eyes unfocused and his voice dazed. “We gotta dig her out... She’s gotta be...”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up,” Kumi told him calmly. “Even if your leader’s alive, my people will see to it that none of you get far.”

“Your people?” he muttered, slurring his words a little. “I saw you earlier, without the paint. Who are you really?”

“Milima ni mifupa yetu,” recited Kumi. “Mto ni damu yetu.”

“She’s from that tribe,” growled Kivuli, wincing as she shifted her weight onto her footpaws. “Where’s that lion, Kopa?”

Putting on her best disdainful face, Kumi snorted. “You think that foolish child started the rockslide? No, it was my doing.”

The grey-furred lioness spat out a mouthful of blood. “Why did you do this? Your tribe was not our target.”

“You might think we’re out of touch, but we’re not stupid,” Kumi told her defiantly. “I know your kind, you’ll hunt us down when there’s no one left for you to conquer. I’m not waiting for that day to come.”

A snarl arose in Jeraha’s throat as he struggled to regain his wits. “You’re right about that.” He lunged at Kumi, who took advantage of his injured state to dart out of the way.

In the same movement, Kumi grabbed Kivuli from behind the shoulders while Jeraha scrabbled to stop himself from sliding over the edge. Kivuli delivered a vicious headbutt in retaliation, causing blood to spurt from Kumi’s snout. The two of them stumbled backward toward the gorge, and Kumi kicked one hind leg into her opponent’s, causing them to lose what was left of their balance and tumble into the open air.

Kumi felt a pair of footpaws slam into her abdomen, forcing her to let go while Kivuli used the momentum to launch herself against the cliff wall, scrabbling at the rock face to halt her descent. Kumi gave a final roar of wrath and fury as the wind whistling in her ears gave way to a sea of dust. She caught a fleeting glimpse of Jeraha reaching down toward Kivuli before they too faded into the mist, and at last the darkness enveloped her.

Chapter Text

There was nothing in sight but memories left abandoned,
There was nowhere to hide, the ashes fell like snow
And the ground caved in between where we were standing,
And your voice was all I heard, that I get what I deserve.
—Linkin Park, “New Divide”

Dawn had broken over the distant mountains by the time Simba finally reached the gorge with his team. Late in the night, one of Hadithi’s High-Flying Heroes had flown to Pride Rock to report a disturbance, possibly brought on by the aftermath of the rainstorm. Though it wasn’t clear when it had occurred, the fact that it had initially gone undetected was cause enough for concern. And so Simba, half-wondering if he would ever get a night of undisrupted sleep again, roused a few lions who were able and willing to make the long trek with him to the southeastern corner of the Pride Lands.

Zazu swooped down in a circular glide and perched on Simba’s shoulder, pointing with one wing. “Over there, sire. Pawprints on the other side. They were a bit hard to make out with the dust, but there were definitely lions here.”

Simba turned to Shabaha, who was leading the Lion Guard in Vitani’s absence. “Take a look. See if you can find a way across.”

“Already found one,” declared Tazama, her eyes fixated upon a boulder sitting near the edge of the cliffs. “It’s a one-way jump though, so we’ll have to take the long way back.”

“Zazu, go with them and find out where the tracks lead,” Simba ordered.

“Right away, sire.” The hornbill propelled himself into the air once more and soared away over the chasm. Shabaha signalled for the Lion Guard to move out.

Nala was gingerly testing the ground near the cliff with one paw. “It couldn’t have been another earthquake, could it? A small one?”

Sarabi shook her head. “The surrounding territory hasn’t changed. The storm could have done this, but if Zazu saw pawprints...”

“We have to find out who was at the border last night,” Simba said firmly. “If they did this, I want to know why.” He did not like the thought of lions coming so close to his kingdom without anyone being aware of it.

“Why indeed,” murmured Sarabi. “Was it an accident? And if not, what did they have to gain from this?”

Simba inspected the devastation before him, noting that the bed of the gorge was completely buried. The opposite wall was badly cracked and had given way completely in some places, leaving patches of arch-backed slopes along the cliff face. “What do you think, Afua?”

Afua, who was staunchly looking the other way, reluctantly turned his gaze into the hazy chasm below. “It’s hard to tell. This rockslide was way worse than the one you found me in, and I only got out because I was small enough to squeeze through the gaps.”

“Could anyone even breathe down there?” pondered Nala.

“There could be a few pockets of clean air covered by the debris,” admitted Afua. “We... might have to do some digging.”

Simba immediately picked up the apprehension in his voice. “We’ll handle this. You just wait up here with Tamika.”

Afua relaxed visibly. “Thank you, Simba,” he murmured.

Simba joined Sarabi and Nala beside a chunk of wall where the cliff had collapsed, leaving a rough but walkable slope along the incline. He led them carefully into the depths of the gorge, taking shallow breaths as a fine mist hovered in the air just below their faces. “Let’s be quick,” he muttered. “We don’t want to be down here too long.”

“Be careful where you dig,” added Sarabi. “Some of these rocks could still be loose.”

Making sure not to disturb the precarious rubble beneath his paws, Simba split off from the others as they began gently digging at the nearby pile of rubble. He listened for any sound besides the sporadic clatter of stones, his mind dwelling upon the day he had found Afua in this very place.

“Dad!” cried Kopa. “Dad, come quick, there’s been a rockslide in the gorge!”

Simba, who was conversing with the elephant before him, peered down as his son frantically scampered in between them. “I’m speaking with Aminifu right now, Kopa. I’ll come look when there’s time.”

“But there were pawprints, dad! Someone could be in trouble!”

Aminifu crinkled his trunk thoughtfully. “My herd could provide assistance if you require, Your Majesty. I’m too old to be moving rocks, but my daughter could certainly gather her team.”

“No, Aminifu, don’t trouble yourself,” Simba insisted. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“If it is nothing, then you should still make certain this time,” the elephant leader told him. “And the next time, and the time after that, and the time after that. The body recovers quickly from stress, but the conscience? Not so much.”

“What does that mean?” asked Kopa with a curious tilt of his head.

Simba smiled fondly at him. “It means we should always do what’s right, even if it isn’t easy or convenient. Aminifu speaks wisely, son. Let’s go check on that rockslide.”

Something soft brushed against Simba’s paw, startling him out of the memory. He looked down and his throat tightened when he saw it.

A lion, half-buried in debris and unmistakably long dead. What was visible of the corpse was badly mangled, and both his forelegs were bent into unnatural angles. His paws were matted with dried blood and his claws were cracked and chipped, as if he had made a desperate bid to escape in his final moments. His glassy eyes were coated in a fine layer of dust, expression petrified into one of abject terror.

Simba staggered back, almost toppling over into the shifting rubble. “M—mom? Nala?”

Sarabi, who was examining a small opening in another rock pile, grimaced when she saw the corpse. “Looks like we have our answer. Leave him, Simba, there’s nothing we can do for him. I think one of the others did survive though.”

He hurried over to her, blinking dust from his eyes and doing his utmost not to sneeze; he had no desire to start another rockslide, let alone kill his mother, his mate, and himself in such a morbidly absurd way. He spotted dried blood staining the rocks around the opening Sarabi was huddled next to, and noticed that there were a few locks of blood-smeared fur sticking to his paws. “I’m surprised anyone could walk away from this.”

“They didn’t,” corrected Sarabi. “Someone found them last night and carried them away.”

“They didn’t come to the Pride Lands for aid,” noted Simba, frowning. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Not everyone is fond of our ways, son,” she reminded him. “Perhaps they had their reasons for avoiding us, or believed they did.”

Simba pulled one of the bloodied fur strands from his paw, using his claws to scratch at the dried blood. Although its colour had stained into the fur, he noticed that while most of them were dusky brown, a few were actually pitch black.

“Let me see that,” said Sarabi sharply. He placed the strands before her, and her nose twitched as she sniffed at them closely.

“Simba, over here,” called Nala, who had gone farther down the gorge than either of them.

Sarabi closely examined the strands, eyes level with the bloodied locks of fur. “Go on, Simba. I’ll be right there.”

Simba clambered his way over to Nala, giving a wide berth to the more precariously stacked piles of debris so as to avoid tipping them over. As he navigated his way around a particularly tall pile of rocks, he saw Nala come into view crouched before another body. This one was a lioness, and unlike the one Simba had found, she was laid on top of the rubble rather than poking out of it. He peered around his mate to get a better look. “Did you dig her out?”

“No,” Nala said. “This is how I found her, which means...”

“She jumped,” concluded Simba apprehensively. “Or she was pushed.” He wasn’t sure which was more foreboding.

Nala was examining the colours painted on the lioness’ face and neck. “She was a member of the Nami tribe.”

“The what tribe?” he inquired.

“I’ll tell you when we get back.” She straightened into a standing position. “Let’s bring her out of here. We should get some air before we keep digging.”

Simba crouched down, and Nala helped slide the corpse onto his back. As the two of them made their way back to the chunk of broken wall, he saw that Sarabi had not resumed digging but was instead probing the immediate area around the opening. “Mom? We’re heading up, you should do the same.”

“I will,” replied Sarabi, still sounding preoccupied. Simba’s curiosity was quickly abated as Nala hurried past him and up the side of the collapsed cliffside, and he hurried to do the same as well.

Tamika was waiting for them atop the cliffs, and she touched the corpse’s foreleg before sharply withdrawing again. “She’s cold. She’s been dead for a while.”

Simba eased the corpse onto the ground, thankful to be breathing clean air again. “I found another one buried in the rocks. This one... she wasn’t buried.”

It was then that he noticed Afua rooted to the spot. The younger lion trembled with shock and horror, and as Simba caught the look in his good eye, he glanced down and realized that it was the same amber as the dead lioness’.

It can’t be. Simba found his voice, and asked as gently as he could, “Afua? Who is this?”

Afua did not respond. He bit his lip and turned his head away, tears flowing from his tightly shut eyes.

Nala looked from him to the corpse and put it together. “She’s... she’s your mother, isn’t she?”

“I told you, I don’t need a mother,” he growled, trying to sound angry and failing. “Leave her here. The tribe will come for her.”

Simba hesitated. “Afua...”

Afua turned away and stalked off without another word. Tamika cast a worried look at Simba, who gave her a silent nod. She wordlessly hurried off after the black-maned lion, and he waited for her to be gone before he let out a long sigh. “It’s gonna be a long day, isn’t it?”

“When the past suddenly returns?” Nala responded glumly. “Yeah.”

“We should head back down there,” murmured Simba. “My mother found signs of a survivor.”

Just as he was about to head for the collapsed wall again, Zazu promptly descended before him. “Simba! Nala! They’ve found—my word, the air is unbreathable—” He stopped and coughed as his excited flapping kicked up a small cloud of dust, some of it flying into the king and queen’s faces. “—oh dear, forgive me. It’s Kion! He’s returned!”

“Kion,” gasped Simba, and immediately regretted it as his mouth filled with dust.

Out of the haze stepped Kion, with Bunga, Ono, and Beshte by his side. The Lion Guard was right behind them, and Simba caught a glimpse of Shabaha grinning faintly as he and Nala rushed forward to nuzzle their son.

Kion’s embrace was certainly heartfelt, if a little tense. “Hi, mom. Hi, dad. Sorry I couldn’t visit sooner, things have been crazy at the Tree of Life.”

“We’re glad you’re here now, son,” Nala assured, though she frowned as she peered more closely. “Even if you are looking thin...”

“Mom,” groaned Kion. “Not the time. I came to warn you about the trouble we found heading this way.” He stopped and glanced to one side as Sarabi emerged from the gorge as well. “But I guess you already know. Hi, grandma.”

“Good to see you again, Kion,” greeted Sarabi with a warm smile. “You look a bit thin though...”

Simba caught his son’s exasperated look and cleared his throat. “We’re still trying to figure out what we’re dealing with here. Our best guess is that one group of lions started a rockslide on another and disappeared.”

“There’s a lot more to it than that,” Kion informed him gravely. “A few days ago, Bunga met some lions from a kingdom forced out of their homes. Apparently you and mom were friends with their ruler — Malka.”

Simba exchanged an astonished look with Nala, who was similarly stunned by the news. “Malka? I haven’t heard from him in years.”

“That’s not all,” continued Kion. “The lions that attacked them are led by a former Pridelander. Her name is Janga. Please tell me you know that name, because I don’t.”

Simba shook his head. But then he saw Nala’s gaze shift in Kion’s direction, and to his surprise, Sarabi gave a solemn nod. “I knew it,” she breathed, her orange eyes flitting about with incredulity. “Janga was the one who survived the rockslide. I’d recognize those strands of fur anywhere.”

“She’s been out there all this time?” said Nala in disbelief. “Why didn’t she ever come home?”

Simba blinked, more than a little perplexed at their reactions. “I’m missing something here. Who are you talking about? Who is Janga?” His head whirled from her to Sarabi, and he froze when he caught the look in his mother’s demeanour.

He had seen that look once; the pure, desperate joy that filled her being the day he had returned to Pride Rock — the day she learned he was alive. And he could see the truth in her eyes even before she spoke the words.

“Scar wanted an heir, to dote on and cherish the way Ahadi never did with him,” Sarabi said, her voice distant but steadfast. “She grew up to despise him, but she was his child — and mine, just as much as you are.” She raised her gaze at last to meet his. “Simba... Janga is your sister.”