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The Lion King: Legacies

Book VI – Ascension

- "The Tiger"

William Blake

Chapter 1:

The world didn’t make sense. Not anymore. Danyal sat, shaken, aghast at what he had just seen. The wretchedness of their state and the dingy hole in the Outlands where they were being kept, was nothing compared to the shock of what he had seen. For the briefest of moment, everything that had happened to him and Sundar had fallen away and he could focus only on what he had seen.

The visions of the Imperium had been bad enough. Forced upon him, by Marsade’s desperate need to see himself as the victim. But then the visions had continued, and showed him the past of the Outlands; where Kovu, Vitani and all the other Outsiders had lived. And with them his mother. That he had known.

But he had never known the circumstances in which his mother had fled Zira and her faction. Not until now. And the truth left him reeling.

“That can’t be right… It can’t be,” he muttered, looking shocked. Sundar was at his side, gripping his paw. He was thankful for it. It grounded him. Took him back to the here and now. Danyal looked at the lioness, and saw the same expression of shock on her face. She had seen what he had seen.

“He was your father. King Kovu was your father.”

It made him dizzy. Sundar had not known Kovu personally of course, but she knew enough by now of the history of the Pridelands, and from Danyal’s stories of its kings and to hero to fully appreciate the significance of it. Kovu had spent the first part of his life in the Outlands, hoping to usurp Simba; he had lived there with his family and the rest of the Outsiders. But nobody had ever mentioned the possibility that the young Kovu might have had a romantic liaison during that era, or that it might have produced a cub.

“My Father… Did he know?” Danyal muttered. He looked up at her in shock. “My didn’t she tell me? Did Vitani know? Did any of them? Why wouldn’t they have told me?”

“Danyal…” Sundar pressed herself against him, trying to calm him down. He looked shocked and she couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t just that he had lacked for a father growing up, most lions grew to adulthood without ever seriously knowing the male who sired them, but the children of Kings tended to be the exception. And on top of that, Danyal had spent the majority of his early life being thought the son of an unknown rogue. In the Pridelands at least that had carried a certain stigma. To learn all of a sudden that his father had been there the whole time threw him into complete turmoil. She ran back through the events of the past they had witnessed, and shook her head. “No, they can’t have known… Kulana didn’t tell anyone but Nuka. Everyone else seemed to think she’d sired you with Najisi…”

“Najisi…” he said, looking revolted at the thought. Najisi had proven to be the worst kind of rogue, the kind that led to the very stigmas and prejudices he had faced in the first place. He shook himself.

“When I was a cub, I used to tell myself my father was out there… Somewhere in the wilds. That one day he would come back to the Pridelands, and I would stop being an orphan. And all the time…” He looked queasy. “It’s a trick. A sick joke… It… I can’t be. Why didn’t my Mother… How could she… we were going to the Pridelands; was she ever going to tell me? Is that what she told him?! Is that why Kovu took me in!? Did he know and never tell me?! Never want me?!”

There were tears in his eyes now. He was looking at her desperately, and his words sent jets of pain across her heart. He was breathing heavily now. Clearly in shock. And anguish.

“I don’t know, Danyal. We will find out. Oh, Danyal, I… I am so sorry,” she told him. It wasn’t nearly enough; it sounded pitiful even to her. Instead, she leaned forward, embracing him, holding his head in the crook of her neck and standing there in silence for a moment as his voice cracked and he shook. “I am here. I promise you. I am not going anywhere. I promise. It’s going to be okay.” She didn’t know how that could be, or what was going to happen, but she was sure of that. Even though they were alone; even though the Shai’tan and their killers had found a way to neutralize her Shamanism; even though there was no telling what the Shai’tan wanted with them, or how they were ever going to escape their current predicament, she said it proudly with a confidence she didn’t feel.

For a while now, Danyal had been a rock, a tower, a mountain of support. And traumatic revelations or no, she wasn’t going to allow something like this to be the end of them. She told herself, that they were going to get through this. They had to.

---

Elsewhere in the Outlands, away from the eyes of the Shai’tan’s scouts, there was a flicker of light. Without any further warning, the world began to tear apart at the seams, and the fabric of reality twisted.

After a moment, a shape moved through, furtive at first, then with more confidence, smaller too than the Tiger Lords who usually moved through such things.

Calin looked around, blinked once, and then looked back over his shoulder. “Okay, the coast is clear!”

Then two more came through; two more Cheetahs, and a wild dog. It was Jahi, Talib, and the former wild dog captain, Forn; and close behind him came another canine: their prisoner, Harrin. Jahi sniffed the air and surveyed the red wasteland with disdain.

“Alright, Harrin. No sudden moves. If you give me a single reason, we’ll kill you right here,” he reminded him. Harrin sneered. Finally, they were joined by a flame-maned cub. Inti looked around nervously and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said. “Remember. Find Sundar and Danyal; be back here by sundown, exactly. I’ll have Rafiki and Yessen open it again. You’ll only have one shot.” He clearly looked agitated, and Harrin could smell it.

“What’s the matter, cub? Are you not joining us? This is your glorious plan, isn’t it? Or are you waiting around, keeping yourself safe?” he taunted him. Inti flushed, but the other wild dog snapped at him.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Have us wander into the Shai’tan’s camp with the very lion cub who led a revolt from under the Shai’tan’s nose? I don’t think so.”

“Hmm. Where are the rest of my pack? We had a deal, cub. I help you, and you free the rest of my pack. Didn’t you swear it?”

“I know what I said,” Inti said sharply. “In a few moments, Rafiki and Yessen are going to open another Gateway, as far from here as we possibly can. Where they can’t go running back to the Shai’tan, and where they can’t rejoin the fight against us. You’re going to have to trust me.”

“Hmm.” Harrin didn’t look happy with that pronouncement.

“Count yourself lucky, Harrin. If we had our way, you’d be dead by now,” he said. Harrin sniffed.

“I think I get the picture. You three all used to work for the Shai’tan before you turned traitor. You’re hoping you can get into their camp and out again without anyone noticing. You’re going to get yourself killed, you realize.”

“Just keep your eyes in front, and don’t talk to us,” Jahi sneered. Calin turned to Inti.

“Okay. We’re ready,” he said.

“… Calin…”

“Forget it. Sundar and the King were kind to me when my parents were killed, and I want to do something more useful than just carrying Yessen and Rafiki’s potions and herbs from place to place. We’ll be just fine. Promise.”

Calin turned away, Inti looked around one last time, and then stepped back through the Gateway where Sara was waiting. She looked up at him and then nervously looked around to Rafiki and Yessen. The two Shaman’s magic filled the air with strange smells and an ethereal glow.

“Nothing we can do now but wait. Wait and hope,” she told him gently.

---

The gateway closed behind Calin, and they started moving right away. There was no time to waste; they risked discovery at every moment. They hadn’t dared risk any more on such a trip. The two wild dogs followed behind, with Forn taking the rear in case Harrin tried anything. As they walked, Harrin looked around them. They were lucky that the wild dog had believed Inti’s ruthlessness.

“Mortread’s main encampment is in this direction. They must have emerged from the Gateway not far from here. You are lucky that that Gateway is only a minor link in the chain,” he said shortly.

“Shut it,” Forn said sharply. Harrin rolled his eyes.

“Do you know what you are doing?” Talib murmured to Calin quietly.

“Not in the least,” the youngest leopard cub admitted. “But I can’t sit and do nothing. We need to save our friends. You and Jahi sure you’re up for this? No second thoughts?” he asked. Talib nodded.

“We need to prove we’re on your side sooner or later. A pawful of the others still think we’re spies of some kind. That’s not going to change. Besides, Prince Kiava needs our help,” Talib promised. Forn smelled the air and froze.

“There are wild dogs ahead. At least a dozen,” he growled. Calin swallowed.

“Right then.” He turned to Harrin. Now for the dangerous part. “You know what you have to do, don’t you, Harrin?” he said, trying to give the same cold expression he knew Inti to be capable of. But the young flame-maned lion wasn’t here. Instead, Harrin just looked at the leopard cub with faint amusement.

“Don’t worry, cub, I know my role,” he said disdainfully, clearly uncomfortable, not with Calin, but with the whole situation. Without so much as another word, he stepped forward, in the lead, and looked down at the injuries he had sustained during the battle. Frowning at where the wounds had begun to heal, he gave the faintly sealed wound a short bite. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, but it did reopen the old wound once more. He winced but said nothing. Then he continued to march towards the encampment, in broad daylight without hiding and with no attempt to conceal their presence. They managed to get within a few yards of the termite mounds before the sentry spotted them. It was a wild dog, but young, and without injuries or wounds. It was one of the dogs who had remained behind when Mortread’s scouting force had stumbled upon the Shai’tan.

“Who goes there?!” it shouted in his direction with a loud bark. Immediately, a pair of other wild dogs appeared to his flanks and gave a threatening growl. “Stay where you are!” it commanded. To his shock and anger, Harrin continued to stalk towards the unfortunate sentry. The dogs stopped growling as soon as they saw him.

“I… Commander? Harrin?” one asked in shock.

“Who else? Stop gawping and stand to attention! Who is in command in here? This is the sloppiest watch I have ever seen…” Harrin barked quickly. The sentry stamped the ground quickly.

“Commander? But you are, I mean… You were missing in—”

“Well, you just found me. Congratulations,” Harrin snapped irritably. One of the wild dogs barked a laugh.

“See? I told you! Told you we hadn’t seen the last of him,” one of the younger dogs barked to his partner.

“Where have you been, Sir? You didn’t come back through the Gateway with Lord Mortread and the prisoners. Who are the Cheetahs?” the older asked, looking careful. Calin’s ears perked at the mention of prisoners. Harrin gave a weary sigh.

“Fresh recruits. They… assisted in our retreat and wish to dedicate their service to the Shai’tan,” he explained. “After that disaster of an assault, the rest of my troops were routed, killed, or captured. We couldn’t make it through the Zulu Gateway without a Shaman. I had to go the long way around. Took days,” he said. “Now would you mind telling me where Lord Mortread can be found? As you can imagine, there is much I need to discuss with him.”

“Umm, he left through another of the Shaman’s Magic Cir—Gateways,” he corrected himself. Harrin nodded.

“Well then.”

“Well, what?”

“Well, when will he be returning?” Harrin snapped in annoyance. “I leave our forces for a few days, and you’ve degenerated into hyenas!” he seethed. One of the wild dogs looked panicked.

“He, umm, he didn’t say! I am sorry, Commander,” he said, looking anxious. Harrin’s eye narrowed dangerously.

“You!” He turned to the other wild dog, whose eyes widened at the unexpected question.

“Yes, sir?” He stamped the ground in salute.

“Tell me everything I’ve missed. What has happened since?” he asked, and began to walk directly into the camp as if he were in charge—which, Calin supposed, he was. Harrin had been one of the ranking commanders. Unsettled and unnerved, his subordinate followed at his side and immediately spilled everything; the rest of them remained silent.

“So, we have prisoners?” Harrin asked carefully, and Calin tensed. This was what they needed to know.

“Yes, sir! Two lions! They are imprisoned in one of the Termite Spires,” he said. “But we are under strict orders not to interact with any of them. The female is… well… there are rumors she is a Shaman,” he said, sounding worried.

“I doubt that. How does one go about imprisoning one such as her? What if she tries to escape?” Forn asked, interrupting the two. The junior wild dog looked surprised at the interruption, but when Harrin said nothing, he swallowed.

“Well… if… if the Shaman tries anything, we have standing orders to attack the male she is with…” he said nervously. “She… she apparently doesn’t want to see him hurt. At least… those are the orders. I don’t think she’s made us do it yet.”

He clearly looked uncomfortable with the idea of keeping a Shamanic prisoner. Harrin didn’t blame him. As far as he knew, their only experience with such a thing had been with Marsade, and Calin could imagine being around someone that could tear you inside out with a mere thought would be discomforting—especially if you had previously obeyed orders to injure their loved ones.

“Take us to them,” Calin said quickly. “I want to see a Shaman in the flesh.” He added quickly when the wild dog looked at him in confusion and looked angry at the interruption.

“Nobody is to see them.”

“No, he’s right. Where is the harm?”

“Um… Sir… We have orders not to let anyone see them…”

“I just gave you new orders,” Harrin supplied. Giving a nod, the unfortunate wild dog swallowed.

“Very well… This way.”

The wild dog passed no further comment and led the way to one of the Spires. They came to the entrance, and Harrin waved away the guards before entering the tunnel.

“That will be all,” Harrin told him. The wild dog looked about.

“I umm… I better come in with you,” the dog said. Harrin glanced at Forn, who gave a nod so slight that you would have missed it unless you were looking for it. Harrin nodded.

“Okay then,” he agreed, though he looked concerned.

They entered the tunnel, and Calin’s eyes widened. He knew Danyal’s and Sundar’s scent well—he had spent quite a few nights with them, especially after his parents’ deaths—and he knew they were ahead. He glanced at Talib, who gave a short smile.

“They’re just through here. I warn you, they’re—UGH!” He let out a grunt as Jahi charged into his side without warning. The dog was knocked into the wall of the tunnel and gave a gasp.

“What are you—” Forn struck as Jahi pinned the dog down. The canine’s eyes widened in fear. The cheetah didn’t say a word as Forn bit at the dog’s neck, crushing it. The dog struggled as blood burst from his throat and writhed as he suffocated. His eyes bulged, and his claws scrabbled. Harrin looked away, but not before he had seen the dog’s fear-stricken eyes looking at him in terror. Silent, begging. And wondering why he had done nothing.

Jahi let the dog’s corpse fall to the ground.

“You didn’t have to kill him…” Harrin muttered. Jahi raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you hear what he said? They’ve been torturing them. If I had time, I’d have repaid him in kind,” he said dangerously.

Talib suppressed his reaction and nodded in agreement. He looked grimly determined, and Calin didn’t especially mind the idea either.

Harrin did his level best to recall his training and his experience and tried to shake the image from his memory. They had just confirmed for him a rather worrying suspicion. He knew he was walking a fine line here: the only way he would survive this was if he found some way to signal aid and end up in a better position. But his captors had to know that, and now it seemed likely they would dispose of him as readily as they had the young sentry.

As if sensing his thoughts, Forn gave a smirk, clearly appreciating the irony of having the Commander of Golgorath at their mercy.

“We had a deal. And we’ll keep to it. But I don’t recall making any bargains with him.”

The sounds of the struggle wouldn’t have carried far, and they pressed through to the centre of the termite mound as quickly as they could, looking away from the unfortunate body of his comrade. Harrin followed. The cave opened into a wide, but low-ceilinged cavern; the air was pungent with blood, but it was far less squalid and dank than any of the cells in Golgorath.

“Your Majesty! Sundar!” Calin called anxiously, probably too loudly, and he could make out two shapes ahead of them. The two lions jumped at his voice and turned in shock.

“I… Calin?!” Danyal asked in shock. The leopard cub looked thrilled. Forn barked quickly, and Jahi moved over to the lions, looking anxious at their injuries.

“Are you capable of moving, your highnesses?” he asked urgently. Sundar nodded, taken aback.

“You… You came for us! How—”

“Simplicity itself. Yessen broke open the Gateway, and we—that is, those of us creatures who could pass ourselves off as the Shai’tan’s lackeys—talked our way past the guards. We don’t have long; every minute is a minute we risk discovery. We have to move now,” Jahi explained eloquently.

Danyal groaned and looked pale. Calin took a step back at his gaunt expression. He was as white as snow and looked ill.

“Are you… Are you alright?” he asked him. Danyal struggled. He clearly wasn’t. He seemed to be in shock and was in great pain, bleeding from a dozen wounds.

“I… I can walk. Thank you…”

“It was Inti and Calin’s plan,” Talib supplied. Danyal blinked and looked down at the young leopard cub. Calin had been a valued part of the rebellion for a while now: in some ways, he was the first person to fight with them from outside either of their Prides.

“Calin. Thank you,” he said.

“Thank me later,” Calin said, flushing. “Let’s get you two home,” he said firmly. And as one, the group left the cell of the Shai’tan.

---

They almost made it. That was the roughest part of it, Calin would later decide.

They left the tunnels as quickly and as quietly as they could. Sundar could walk better than Danyal could, and she helped him shuffle along as quickly as they could, but the young lion was clearly the more hurt of the two. Sundar’s shamanic gifts had healed the worst of the injuries, leaving the two of them exhausted.

Calin could recall Yessen telling Sundar about it, what could happen when you drained yourself of Shamanic power. Hopefully, with enough rest, they would both recover. He took the lead, feeling elated. It had worked! Harrin and Forn walked with one flank, and the older leopards the other, giving the illusion that the lions were prisoners.

“Back the way we came. Then we need to hide for a few hours. Then Yessen will open the gateway again, and we’ll be safe,” Calin said.

“Stop! You there! Where are you taking the prisoners?” a voice came towards them, and Calin froze. Jahi tensed, and it was all he could do not to curse violently. Standing ahead of them was the unmistakable flame orange and black striped form of a tigress. She made her way towards them and was staring right at them.

“They told us Mortread was gone!” Talib hissed. Calin’s eyes widened.

“That’s not Mortread!” he muttered. Forn stared.

Harrin’s mouth twisted into a split grin. “Princess Castella-Ra. Greetings… Your Majesty.”

“I know you. Harrin… You’re alive after all. Mortread said that you fell to the Pridelanders. However did you manage to escape? And how is it you are back here?” Castella asked in amazement.

She didn’t attempt to hide her surprise at the wild dog’s resourcefulness, and she wasn’t the only one. Standing to her side was the other wild dog Harrin had questioned upon arriving at the Shai’tan’s encampment, and they had begun to draw the attention of others now, too. Talib felt a shiver down his back and did his best to keep his eyes on the ground and not make eye contact with the Shai’tan. Danyal felt his stomach lurch. They hadn’t warned the rest of them about her! Another Shai’tan, or however the Emperor’s daughter fitted into the Shai’tan. How could he have overlooked that? There was no time, though. He was drained, and his head was full of a million notions. There was a tense feel to the air. Calin swallowed.

“As much as I would be keen to tell you an elaborate and courageous tale of how I was stuck behind enemy lines and used my trickery, deceit, and cunning to come back to serve your highness…” Harrin supplied with a smirk. “… I am afraid I did little more than Lord Mortread did; ran for the hills and made my escape at the first chance I got.”

Castella laughed, and to Calin, it was chilling; the ease and the relaxed way she spoke to the wild dogs. It was a far cry from the way Rish’ut or Sekhmet spoke to their underlings.

“It is good that you have survived. Your Lord was mildly distressed to have lost our most capable commander in the skirmish,” Castella said.

“I am fortunate to be able to return to your side,” Harrin said grimly, and Calin could feel his anger. He wanted to be done with this charade. He was wary of lying directly to a Shai’tan.

“Which Gateway did you cross through?” Castella asked him curiously.

“A new Gateway was created from the Brother’s Gorge,” he said. Calin relaxed ever so slightly. If he had given the real Rebel’s location, Castella would have noticed in seconds.

“Very resourceful. It is good to have you with us,” she said. “We are preparing to move from this location soon.” She finished. Harrin cocked his head.

“This location no longer secure?” he asked her tentatively. Calin tensed.

“Security is not the issue. Now that we know where the rebels are hiding, we have decided to move to a… more central… location. Five Stone’s is in the east of the Pride Lands—and about as far from the Outlands as you can get and still be in the Pridelands. We are too reliant on the Gateways to attack it. If it truly is their aim to retake the Pridelands, we will need to take steps to secure it. Until recently, the Pridelands have been a scorched wildland. From there, we will strike out at Vitani, Lukaan, Kiava, and any who stand in our way. If they think what they have known so far was war, they have yet to know the anger of my father,” she said dangerously. Her eyes flickered to Sundar, her words ringing in her head as she spoke. Calin let out a gasp, then flinched. No eyes turned to him. No one noticed his lapse—for even Forn and Jahi were struggling to maintain their expressions. Castella-Ra. The Emperor was her father! The fiend had taken a mate?! From her age, Sundar supposed it must have been before the old Imperium was slaughtered, and Kai had taken his father’s throne, but even so, it came as a shock. Even Sundar—who had known of Shan-Yi and his son before Ben-Kai-Ra’s rise to power—had never heard of such a thing. Calin, Jahi, Talib, and the others looked thunderstruck by the revelation.

“They will fall before us,” Harrin agreed.

“I do have one question, though, Harrin. What are you doing with the prisoners out of their cells? And why, for the last few moments, as we have been chatting quite amicably, have you stood idly and not identified the cheetahs and leopard marching with whom I have never laid eyes on?” she asked casually, but her voice had become like ice. It snapped Calin back to reality.

And Harrin let out a breathy sigh and for the briefest of moments, flashed a grin at the Imperial Princess that was neither appropriate nor respectful.

“Your highness. How I have missed your intellect and your intuition.” His jaws parted into a grin, his eyes narrowing, and his nostrils flaring. That was all the warning Calin received. He cursed, loud and angrily, to such a degree that Almasi would have blushed were she there to hear it.

“Down, Harrin!” Castella said sharply.

Then, hell broke loose. Without warning, the tigress made a jerking motion with her paw. The wild dog to her left leapt into action and seized Forn by the neck, sailing under the ducking Harrin. Forn rolled with the dog, trying to dislodge him.

“Run!” he called out and jerked himself to his feet, knocking his attacker off his back and crawling to his feet even as a second dog attacked him. Harrin whirled around and struck.

“Harrin, we had a deal!” Calin warned.

“No! You had leverage. Which you have just lost.” He struck at the young cub, and Talib was there, the older leopard’s claws smashing into the wild dog’s jaws.

“Just run!” Calin snarled, trying to press down the growing feeling of guilt and panic inside him.

“Go!” Danyal gasped to Sundar. “You’ll never get away here dragging me!” he protested. To his chagrin, Talib and Sundar did exactly that as Jahi and Forn did their best to keep back the steadily increasing waves of wild dogs from overwhelming them. Sundar’s eyes flashed.

“No! I am not leaving you behind!” She turned to Talib. “Go!”

“Sundar!”

“I’ll be behind you! I promise you!” she said firmly.

They ran.  Another dog leapt at Danyal, and the lion mustered enough strength to lift a powerful, clawed paw and slam it into the ground by its neck. Sundar took a slow walk away from the main group. One wild dog, seeing her as easy prey, leapt at her, and Sundar’s eyes flashed blue.

Are you there? she asked. She didn’t know who she addressed it to. To the voice that sometimes spoke within her. To the echo of herself she had fought when she had nearly lost control of her powers. To the part of herself in full command of her gifts. Or perhaps in truth, she addressed it to someone, something, else entirely. She couldn’t be sure in that moment.

I am here.

Was the simple reply. Sapphire light erupted around her, and mist coalesced into radiant tendrils of light. They raged and whirled around her like venomous serpents and lashed out at her would-be attacker. He gave a scream, and when the light dimmed, the canine hung there, suspended in midair, encased in a jagged lump of some crystalline material. She exhaled a thin cloud of mist and felt her fur prick at the cold. Ice. Like the frost-lashed grass that covered her steps upon her argument with her father, but amplified many times over. Her eyes glowed again.

“Castella! Princess of the Imperium!” she shouted out. The tigress looked panicked, fear sinking into her eyes. Where was Marsade when you needed him? She half-expected the power-crazed orangutan to come blazing out of some hole or other, flinging flame and laughing manically as he did so. But the Shaman had vanished once more, off on his own agenda again. She had no resilience to Shamanism. She had no gift. Against Sundar, she was mortal.

“You know what I can you. So tell me, I am dying to know. What on earth made you think it was a good idea to hurt someone you knew I loved?”

Castella dived for cover as frost and ice turned the air frigid. It was draining on Sundar. But she didn’t care.

“Ignore the Shaman!” Castella shouted, desperately. “Attack the others!” Knowing it would be useless to try. She considered throwing wild dog after wild dog, hoping to exhaust the Shaman. But she had no idea how many casualties it would take, or indeed, if they had enough minions to butcher for such a bloody strategy. Where the hell was Marsade? Wasn’t he supposed to be around for exactly this sort of eventuality? The wild dogs had been complacent.

More dogs went for the retreating forms of Danyal, Jahi, Talib, and Forn, and as they did so, Sundar’s gifts wreaked havoc.

With Danyal making his escape, she no longer feared the consequence to him, and she could finally let loose. Days and days of seeing him endure pain upon pain had left her with an appetite for vengeance. Seeing Helio cut down before her eyes came back to her vision, unbidden.

“Your Highness!”

Harrin dragged Castella to the side as the air about them froze, cutting them off.

“Harrin,” she seethed. “We will have words about this treachery later.” She promised him. Harrin didn’t look away.

“Stay back,” he told her.

Sundar flung shamanic energy like there was no tomorrow, little caring for the consequences. A pair of wild dogs were caught on the tips of a pair of spears that formed out of ice frozen from water in the air. They hung there, the translucent glittering display staining red with blood as the spires sank into them deeper than claws, deeper than teeth, penetrating through bodies and emerging covered in gore on the other side.

A pair of teeth sank into her neck, and she reared. She’d not been paying attention to the creatures behind her, focused on the ones before her. She felt a dog grapple at her side, and she twisted and writhed. As soon as her attention was diverted, Castella’s dogs rushed her, attacking before she could unleash even more devastating power.

“Sundar!” she heard a voice call. It was Calin. “Sundar, remember what Yessen said!”

How the young cub thought to remember what the ancient ape had told her at a time like this was beyond her, but she did. She could feel it inside her, every muscle screaming in protest, burning her out from the inside. She looked around desperately for another sight of Castella, but the tigress had vanished. A chance to kill a Shai’tan wasted! She cursed, and then gasped when she saw Calin waiting for her, and then watched as he ducked under a dog, knocking it to the ground.

He hadn’t been calling for help or assistance, though; instead, he rushed towards her and knocked away the dog from her back.

“Sundar, come on! It’s time to go!” he shouted to her, and for a brief moment, she felt a mad, bizarre urge to chase after them, especially when she saw Castella’s form turn tail and run as soon as Danyal was out of reach—she had no intention of being in range when she was free to use her powers without endangering her lover. Harrin noticed too, and he made a dash from her. Vengeance could wait for another day. Sundar gave a scream. And her powers stormed around her. She hurled it at the biggest thing she could see, the termite spire that had been their prison, and it exploded. Or rather, it burst open, sending chunks of termite mound, rock, and whole clouds of dust high, high into the air.

The rebels ran for it. By the time the smoke cleared, and they had managed to claw the dust and debris from their eyes, the shapes of the leopards and their captive prisoners were long gone.

She had failed. Mortread’s attempt at winning himself back into the graces of the Emperor, their careful planning, scheming, all for naught. She felt sick in her stomach. They had expected this; they had anticipated an attack, but this… She repressed her revulsion and tried not to look as terrified as she felt.

“You!” she snarled at the nearest wild dog. “Get after them!” And turned her gaze on Harrin. “Seize the traitor.”

A moment ago, she might have been inclined to listen to his explanation, but with the rebel’s escape, she had turned a pale white. Harrin didn’t resist or protest as two other wild dogs grappled him to the ground. “Someone get a hold of Marsade. Quickly. I want to stab him through his greasy heart. He was supposed to be on paw in case the Shaman got loose. And someone tell me where Mortread is!” she shouted the orders, and the wild dogs scrambled to obey. It was far less disciplined. She was no commander, and it showed. Her agitation was palpable, and it made the others all nervous. “Go! Get after them!”