[•]

She burns like the sun, and I can't look away,
She'll burn our horizons, make no mistake.
And I'll hide from the world behind a broken frame,
And I'll burn forever, I can't face the shame.
—Muse, "Sunburn"

After stalking Kivuli's team late into the night, Fujo became increasingly certain that they would not give up on their mission. This wasn't the way they came, he noted, staying close to them from atop the edge of the canyon. We haven't gone far from the ambush site and she's still leading them in circles.

That meant they were looking for a way out—into the badlands. Could they have found the Hollow's location? Fujo grimaced. Without a safe hideout for the Tempest Pride, they had all but lost to Janga already. And although neither of them would sabotage the plans they had meticulously pieced together, there was plenty of room—and secrecy—to contend for leverage. He anticipated that she would take every advantage she could from him, just as he was doing to her.

As the lions below reached a fork in the canyon, Kivuli made another turn back toward the badlands. Fujo eyed the gap that separated the escarpment from the long drop down. Making sure to take a few steps back, he broke into a silent dash and jumped, soaring over the chasm. He landed on the other side with practiced steadiness, kicking up a small cloud of dust as he did so. After discreetly peering down at Kivuli's team to make sure they hadn't noticed him, he turned his attention to their chosen route.

It was a long, wide arc, and even though it stretched into the shroud of the night, Fujo recognized the path. This leads to another junction, he thought, sprinting across the escarpment to the route's eventual destination. It won't be long before they make it into the badlands.

I have to do something about this, and fast. Fujo slowed as he reached the junction. He studied the intersecting paths, and saw that they were adjacent to the ambush site. I could arrange an accident, make it look like they buried themselves. But Kivuli was far too competent for that, and Janga wasn't stupid. And assuming their plan wouldn't end with her and Fujo both being brutally murdered, he still needed her cooperation. Right now, he had to admit he was at an impasse. Maybe I overestimated my own capabilities in dealing with Janga. Maybe the pride has suffered for nothing.

They will have suffered for nothing, if I give up now. Fujo steeled himself. I must try, for whatever it is that I have left to lose. Kivuli's team was catching up, so without delay Fujo padded over to the ridge that overlooked the ambush site, searching for anything that could give him an idea. To his surprise, he spotted a lone lion down in the canyon, inspecting the remains of the destroyed barricade.

It wasn't one of Janga's, and most certainly not from the Tempest Pride either. Fujo peered closer; the lion was a gold-furred adult male, slight but well-built, and very young from the look of his bushy umber-brown mane. It seems Janga is drawing more attention than she thought she would. She's definitely more likely to make enemies than friends out here.

Fujo made his way to the cliff wall where the canyon met the badlands, quickly finding the rock face that had allowed him to scale the escarpment. He climbed down carefully, wishing not for the first time that he didn't have to do everything by himself. I won't have to for much longer, if all goes well. And this outsider could be another opportunity.

It was a risk, one of many he had already taken. But no riskier than letting my brother bring the pride to ruin, if Janga doesn't do it for him first. There's more at stake in this war than what happens to her—or to me. Whether this ends in success or failure, we will not be remembered kindly. Janga hadn't come around to accepting that, and it would be her own undoing. They were both damned, if not in this life then in the next.

Fujo touched down on the ground and hurried for the ambush site. He stepped into view and stared into the canyon; the young lion looked up, scrutinizing him through the darkness. "Tumaini?" he uttered, and Fujo knew he had found the right lion.

•••

As Kopa walked closer to the black-maned lion, he was disheartened to see that it wasn't his friend; this lion was old enough to be Tumaini's father.

"I haven't heard that name in years," the stranger said quietly. "Tell me, how is it that you know my nephew?"

Kopa's eyes widened. "He's my friend," he managed, now studying the other lion much more closely. "He saved my life when I was a cub." Yes, the resemblance was definitely there—they had the same piercing maroon eyes, the slightly rugged jet-black mane.

"That's ironic," the lion muttered. Even the way he spoke sounded like Tumaini. "But he was with you?"

"A few days ago," Kopa explained. "I haven't seen him since he left the forest with Siri."

The lion gave a pleased smile. "So she is alive. I knew she would make it."

"That's right, you must be with the Tempest Pride!" Kopa realized excitedly.

"I am. My name is Fujo, prince and advisor of the Tempest Pride."

"I'm Kopa. Wait, prince? So Tumaini's father is..."

"The king, that's correct," Fujo confirmed. "I don't suppose my nephew ever told you about us."

Kopa didn't respond. His mind was flooded with not only answers but even more questions. Questions only Tumaini himself could answer. His father is King Malka. Apparently Malka's a recluse. And Tumaini wanted to avoid his pride, but now... "He doesn't like to talk about it," he said finally. "But he came to help as soon as we learned what was happening."

"That's what it took for him to come home," the older lion sighed. "Well Kopa, I'm sure we both have a long story to tell, but unfortunately time is not on our side. I need your help. You're an outsider to this war, you can do things I can't be caught doing."

Kopa furrowed his brow warily. "What kind of things?"

"Let's just say I need to...occupy Janga's attention," Fujo said vaguely. "Only until the rest of my pride reaches the Hollow, and the Pridelanders are ready for her. But I can't do that if she's onto me, so..." His eyes drifted over Kopa's shoulder. The younger lion followed his gaze, and spotted movement in the dark. A group of lions—how many, he couldn't tell—crossing the badlands in the distance. It was then that he noticed Fujo looking worried. "Those are my pride members," the older lion murmured. "And there are six of Janga's lions coming this way."

"We'd better do something then," Kopa suggested pointedly.

"Like I said, they can't know I'm here." Fujo was silent as he contemplated the situation. He looked from Kopa to the other lions, to the canyon, and back to Kopa again. "Listen closely. You're going to warn my pride members and accompany them out of these badlands. Talk to the one leading them, his name is Chumvi. They know the way to the Hollow."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to seek out some potential allies. I'll see you at the Hollow if all goes well."

"Okay." Kopa turned to go when Fujo spoke again.

"Wait. If you do run into Kivuli—the grey one leading Janga's lions—try roaring at her."

Kopa blinked, wondering if he had heard correctly. "Roaring?"

"As ferociously you can," Fujo affirmed with a knowing look in his eye. "Best of luck to you, Kopa. Don't tell anyone I was here." With that, Fujo hurried off into the badlands.

Kopa watched Fujo's retreating form disappear into the darkness, wondering if he should have mentioned his encounter with Sajin. What if I did bring more bloodshed to the Tempest Pride? He shook his head—there was no time to dwell on it—and bound for Chumvi's group, moving to intercept them as they trotted across the badlands.

You can't control where your actions will lead, came Tumaini's voice from one of Kopa's memories. Just do what you know is right, and take the rest as it comes. That's all anyone can ask of you.

Kopa picked up his speed as he put one paw in front of the other. Some of the lions had taken notice of him and were turning about. He veered to one side so he wasn't running straight at them; nonetheless a few of them unsheathed their claws.

"Hi," Kopa greeted as he approached. I hope I'm coming off as sincere. "I'm looking for Chumvi."

A stocky red-brown male stepped forward. "That's me," he said cautiously. "And you are?"

"Kopa. You all need to come with me. Janga's lions—the ones who attacked you—they've got a team not far from here, and they're heading this way."

This prompted a few raised eyebrows. "I don't know about this," one of the lions muttered.

Chumvi cocked his head, observing Kopa very closely. "Sorry, Kopa, but you'll have to give us a reason to believe you."

"I..." Kopa racked his brains, trying to think of something he could mention besides Fujo. "Siri! She stumbled into my forest and said her home had been attacked. My friend and I helped her escape the lions that came after her."

"Okay." Chumvi looked around. "And where is she?"

Kopa winced. "On her way to the Hollow right now, with my friend."

"Sounds made-up to me," snorted one of the lionesses. The others nodded in agreement, except for Chumvi. He looked as if something else was bothering him.

"And let me guess, you don't know where it is," the red-brown lion ventured. "Which is why you approached us."

"I'm telling the truth," Kopa insisted. "To be completely honest, I'm just as confused as you are about what's going on."

"You knew the enemy leader's name," interrupted another lion. "We didn't even know anything about them, but you seem very informed."

Kopa suppressed a groan. This is going spectacularly awful. "I know how it sounds, but I can explain everything once we're out of danger. Seriously, the lions that took your home are not going to stop until you're all dead. They already murdered many of my friends because we protected Siri. You have to believe me!"

Chumvi still looked rather distracted. "You look like..." he pondered absently. "Your eyes...but they aren't green..."

"What?" Kopa shook his head, confused. "Listen, this is not a good time to—"

Just then, a half dozen lions emerged from the canyon, led by the grey-furred lioness, Kivuli. The other lions had noticed them too, and for a moment they stared each other own.

Chumvi turned around. "I guess you were telling the truth," he admitted, sounding calm despite the tension in his demeanour.

"Let's take them," one of the lionesses grunted. The enemy lions were closing in now. "I'm tired of running anyway."

"All in agreement?" Chumvi asked quietly. The other two nodded, taking position with their fellow pride members.

Kopa stepped in front of them, so that he had a clear line of sight on the lions dashing straight for their formation. Here goes nothing, he thought. He adjusted his stance, planting four paws firmly against the ground.

No sooner had he done so, one of the enemy lions did a double-take, as if he recognized Kopa; he stumbled in a hasty attempt to stop, followed quickly by a second lion. Their eyes were wide with fear. Kivuli turned, looking uncharacteristically bewildered. "What's the matter with you?" she snapped at them. "Get back in—"

Kopa let loose a tremendous roar that amplified as it echoed through the enormity of the open badlands. The remaining enemy lions lost their nerve, breaking formation and running in the opposite direction as fast as they could. Even Kivuli halted, silver eyes narrowed as she studied him suspiciously. He held her gaze, daring her to continue her advance alone. She bared her teeth in a frustrated scowl but turned tail and ran after her retreating team. They disappeared back into the canyon, and once again the night was silent.

When Kopa turned back to the other lions, they were all staring at him in disbelief. Chumvi was smiling incredulously, and shoulder-bumped Kopa with one paw. "I've never seen a fight end like that before," he laughed. "What did you do to them?"

The younger lion frowned. "I don't know. They seemed to be afraid of me...because I roared at them?" Some of them looked like they saw it coming too. This keeps getting weirder and weirder.

"So how did you know it would work?"

"...I didn't."

Chumvi gave him a stern look. "You said you'd explain everything, kid."

"Once we get to the Hollow, yeah," Kopa asserted.

At this, the other lions exchanged resigned looks. Chumvi averted his gaze. "We're...not going to the Hollow," he said slowly.

Kopa frowned. "I don't understand."

"King Malka has abandoned us," the red-brown lion said bitterly. "Ran for his life as soon as we got attacked."

"And that's the most I've seen of him in years," muttered another lioness.

"Unless you were Siri, of course," added another lion. "Whatever that's really about..."

"Whatever problem Janga has with Malka, we won't have anything to do with it," Chumvi said, getting to the point. "He's made it abundantly clear that the lives of his lions don't matter to him. So I'm taking them to my old home, Pride Rock."

"That's where Janga's attacking next," Kopa warned.

"Then that's where we'll deal with her," Chumvi said firmly. "The queen is an old friend of mine, so I trust her and King Simba to stand up to these lions...maybe save the rest of Malka's pride for him." After a brief pause, he added, "You're welcome to join us."

"I appreciate the offer, but I have to get to the Hollow," Kopa said. "That's where my friend is waiting for me." And he has a lot of explaining to do.

Chumvi nodded. "Then stay with us until we reach the gorge that enters the Pride Lands' borders. You'll only need to follow it the other way until you reach Mount Kilimanjaro."

"Sounds good to me," Kopa replied. But his mind was far from at ease as he followed Chumvi and the others through the badlands. No one seemed to know what Janga was up to, except Fujo, who somehow knew Kopa could scare off Kivuli's lions. Why doesn't any of this make sense?

•••

Siri was speechless. She looked back and forth between Tumaini and Malka, wondering how she hadn't caught the resemblance until now. Tumaini's mane was tidier and less frayed than Malka's, but otherwise it was the same shade of black. Both their expressions were a jumble of emotions, unlike the baleful glares that Fuata and Kaidi pointed at Tumaini. He didn't meet their gazes.

"What are you doing here?" Malka demanded in a low voice.

Tumaini found his voice. "Like Siri said, I saved her life," he replied, glancing in her direction; she nodded silently but said nothing. In the years she had lived at Mount Tempest, she never learned what had become of the king's family. But now everything was starting to make sense as she listened to the exchange.

"So, you thought I'd take you back?" the king sputtered.

"I don't want to come back," Tumaini snapped. "You haven't changed, clearly. I'm just trying to help."

Malka narrowed his eyes, but their fiery rage could not hide the torment underneath. "Like the last time you helped?"

Whatever he was talking about, it struck a nerve with Tumaini. "Do you think I'm proud of that?" he exclaimed bitterly. "Do you think a day goes by that I'm not reminded of what I did? But what else could I do when I found out the pride was in danger?"

"The pride you ran away from?" Malka fumed. "The one you, the eldest heir, disgraced because you couldn't face what you did. That pride?"

Tumaini was well and truly angry now. "You hypocrite! If you weren't such a coward, then I wouldn't have had to fight your battles for you, and Afua would—"

"Don't you say his name!" Malka roared, with such ferocity that even Fuata and Kaidi looked startled. Siri leaped between him and Tumaini, but the king was not abated. "You have no right to show up after all these years and pretend you were anything other than selfish, and cruel, and stupid!"

"Malka, don't," Siri protested. "He put himself in danger to protect me. His friends died so I could get away."

"All you ever do is run away from your problems!" Tumaini roared at Malka. The king did not take his eyes off Siri.

"I was always afraid you'd find out the truth," he said to her. "You're the only one left who cares about me."

"You did nothing then, just like you're doing nothing now!" Tumaini continued his tirade, and Siri could see the growing tension in Malka's shoulders with every word. "Where's mom? Or Uncle Fujo?" He stopped, horrified. "You—you left them behind, didn't you? I...I can't believe you..." His face tightened in anger.

The guilt in Malka's expression deepened. "I didn't see Fujo when...but, your mother..."

That was when Siri realized it. He doesn't know. She turned to Tumaini, frantically shaking her head at him, but he took no notice of her.

"Do you even care about anyone besides yourself?" he hissed. He approached his father slowly. "I don't know why Janga is doing this, and I don't care...but you—did you even hesitate before you ran off to save your own skin?"

Kaidi growled warningly. "Shut up, Tumaini," she snapped.

Tumaini looked to her and Fuata. "I let you guys down, and it shouldn't have taken me this long to say this," he said wearily. "I'm sorry, for everything. But this is between me and my sorry excuse for a—"

Malka was a blur, and in the blink of an eye, he had Tumaini pinned by the neck against the ground. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he snarled.

Siri rushed forward. "Malka, stop!" She tried to pull the king off Tumaini, but the larger lion would not budge.

Tumaini managed a strained smile, even as he struggled to breathe. "Just like old times, huh? If only mom were here to kick your ass, but she's not because—"

"Because she's already dead!" Malka shouted in his face. "After you killed your brother in the gorge and ran off, your mother threw herself from the highest lookout post in Mount Tempest!"

Siri froze, her paws still on Malka's shoulder as the words sank in. Tumaini...killed his brother? When he was a kid? She looked him in the face, trying to discern the lion Malka described as selfish and cruel. But all she could see in his demeanour was a hopeless agony she knew too well.

Malka's composure was also failing, and he lowered his head and wept. Fuata and Kaidi, who were standing ruefully off to the side, made to move forward. Siri gave them a discreet shake of the head. The two of them remained where they stood.

Tumaini hadn't moved from where he lay, his features still riddled with shock. "I...I didn't know..."

"You should've come back," the king choked, releasing his son. "Your uncle dug through the gorge for two days and never found him. He searched for you but came back alone. I—I thought I lost everyone. Even my own brother won't look at me anymore."

Malka backed up, sniffing with shaky breaths. Siri offered a paw to Tumaini, who hadn't moved from where he sat on the ground. He just stared blankly into the distance. "I just wanted you—all of you—to be happy. That's why I didn't come back."

The king took him by the shoulders, but this time without ferocity. "Tumaini," he said solemnly. "You're still my son. I'm sorry, for so many things. And what I said earlier—"

"I know," Tumaini said placatingly, standing up. "But all of it is the truth, and I can't hide from it anymore. And what right do I have to be here, really?"

He was startled when Malka grabbed him in a close hug. "Don't go," the king pleaded. "You saved Siri's life. That's good enough for me, son."

"Not just me," Tumaini said firmly, snapping out of his dejection instantly. "Kopa—my friend—he's still out here alone somewhere. We have to find him."

"And you can trust this Kopa?" Malka asked, though not maliciously.

"With my life," his son responded without hesitation.

"And mine, I already have," affirmed Siri. "We wouldn't have gotten away without him."

Everyone turned at the sound of a distant roar. It rumbled through the badlands as the echoes bounced around before fading again. "What is it now?" grumbled Fuata.

Tumaini straightened in recognition. "That's Kopa," he muttered. "It sounds like he's in trouble."

"Then let's find him, and quickly," the king said. "You both have a lot to tell me when this is over."

Tumaini nodded but said nothing. Siri's gaze followed him as they continued their trek through the badlands. She wondered what was on his mind, and what else he wasn't telling her. He and Malka are not okay yet, not even close. But if we can survive this...maybe they still have a chance.

And if there was still hope for Malka, then maybe there was still hope for the pride.