Part II

There is one good quality that I attributed to Azl during my time in Purgatory. Nothing swayed him from his job. As soon as I walked in and turned around he began to work on personally breaking every bone in my body by paw, making sure every one was a compound fracture. None of the kindness or softness he had ever showed me in that gorge entered my prison.

He decided after a while to up the torture. He stopped killing me and making my body whole again. He began to starve and dehydrate me. It's not a pretty thing to watch someone tear chunks off of their own body just to soothe their hunger and cut open their arteries to drink their blood. But that meat and liquid never reached my stomach; it never left my mouth. I would disappear even as I swallowed. I put myself through that pain for nothing.

But then I began to forget about the hunger and thirst. It's my opinion that Azl put it at a more manageable level, as it never did go away. He didn't want anything to distract me from what he did.

He began to insult me. I heard quite a few that I'd never heard before. But curses weren't the only things he said to me. He belittled me in every way possible. He had been right; mental anguish was far, far, worse. I felt that I was less than nothing. He attacked every belief I had about myself, every bit of pride I had, and destroyed it utterly. He went on for days undoubtedly, me being forced to listen, feeling smaller and smaller. He compared me to himself, his perfect self. I was humiliated utterly. He finally ended by saying contemptuously the thing that had hurt the most: "And you believe she could love a thing like you. Pathetic."

But this gave me strength. I proudly spoke what I knew was true: "She loves me." It was enough.

A flower appeared in midair. Azl plucked off a petal, and then plucked off another for ever sentence. "She loves me not. She likes me. She loves me not. She'd rather have me stay here for eternity than lay eyes on me again. She loves me not. She's undoubtedly found another mate and move on, leaving you with less than nothing." He plucked the last petal from the flower. The stalk and empty head burst into flames, burned to ash. "She loves you not." He stated it as a cold, hard fact.

"She loves me," I said. "Nothing will change that."

He smiled. "You mortals and your desires for what you can't have." He turned and opened a rectangle. "I'll leave you to your thoughts."

I wish he hadn't left. He left me to think about her love. He knew his job very well. Because I began to doubt. I began to wonder if she did love me. And if she did, why? Why did I love her? There were undoubtedly better lions there for her, even my brother was there. Maybe I didn't love her like I thought I did. I thought I had loved before her, too. Was I just groping for something that was out of the ordinary, for a beautiful lioness like her? It wouldn't be beyond me to do that. After all, I was the lowest form of life to inhabit the earth. I wasn't even fit to be in anyone's sight, let alone a goddess like Tumai. She had undoubtedly pitied me, just pitied me. She felt no love for me. I had been a fool.

But then a voice would scream, blotting out all other thoughts: SHE LOVES YOU.

But what if she didn't? Back to the whole line of thought again.

Azl finally came back in, his face blank. I said defiantly, "She loves me."

"Who?"

"Tumai. She loves me."

"Who's Tumai?"

"My love."

His face broke into a grin. "So you name emotions, do you? So what's happy?"

He was distorting my words. I shut my mouth. I wouldn't fall into his trap. But he made me play along. He began to strip away yet another part of me, the most precious part of me. He had decimated my strength, shattered my willpower, destroyed my ego. Now he tore away at my sanity. He blurred the lines between dreamland and reality. He held up three digits. Of course, it was actually two, or maybe even four. Who knew, it might actually be three. Because three is four is two is seventeen. Or so my logic began to say. Azl slowly peeled away layer after layer of my mind, punishing me when I gave him the wrong answers, pummeling me, making me even more frightened of him than I already was.

I sat there, one time, staring at his paw, a paw with four digits and a thumb up on the leg. A normal leg. And two digits were extended. "How many?"

I guessed. "Four." And I prayed, prayed desperately that I was right.

"Why?"

"Why?" I repeated.

"Why four?"

I couldn't believe him. "There are four, aren't there?" Two, I reminded myself. Only two.

"Do you believe there are four?"

"Yes. Yes, four. One, two, three, four." Oh, gods, please, just don't let him be angry. Just let me be right. I don't want to die again.

"But there are two."

"Yes." Yes, there are two—I mean, four—oh, gods, what does it matter? Just don't hurt me.

"But I thought you said four?"

"I . . . I . . ."

"How many are there?"

"Two!" I exploded. "Two, four, fifteen, however damn many you like!" I shut up. That one outburst would cost me. I knew it would. Tears began to stream down my face in apprehension of the beating. "Don't hurt me," I whispered, pleading. "Don't hurt me."

He lowered his paw. "Taraju, don't you see how it hurts? You lie, and it hurts so much. And you have no idea how much it hurts me. Much more than you. Do you know why I'm doing this?"

For your filthy, sadistic pleasure. "No."

"I'm doing this because I love you. I want to help you. Don't you see? You're insane, Taraju. I only want to make it better. I only want to make you right."

"I'm fine," I protested. "My mind is fine." I couldn't tell how he was tearing it apart.

"No, Taraju. You need help. I'm giving it to you. Come here." He held out his foreleg. I rushed to him. I actually went to him, my torturer, all because he offered me comfort. I was that desperate. And the hug . . . oh, it was wonderful. To be held, to be drawn close, to have my sorrow eased as he let me sob into his mane, his wings wrapping tightly around the both of us. Malaiki hugs are wonderful, truly wonderful. There is nothing like them. I wept.

He finally let me go. "Taraju, please, be honest with me. I want to help you. Truly." I nodded. He held up his paw. "How many?"

"Two."

He shook his head. "Wrong." He whipped his paw mercilessly across my face. I saw seven now. And with that blow it all came rushing back, about what he had done to me. I tried to remember life outside of my prison. I barely could. He continued to beat me. For his pleasure. I'm fine. I'm fine oh gods how it hurts. Two digits. Two. Four, he wants four. Two. Four. Just make the pain stop. Please just make the pain stop. I don't want to lose myself.

The torture went on. Without pause, without rest, without mercy. But then I had something hit me. Something I didn't expect at all.

I got a visitor.

It was Tumai.

oOo

Azl raised back a paw to hit me again for the wrong answer. After all, birds don't fly. How could they? They have wings. Why, birds don't even have feathers. Hyenas have feathers. They keep them under their lips. I should know that. Azl was about to hit me, then stopped. "Shame," he said. "We'll pick up when you're done. Through there." He pointed to a rectangle that had opened.

"Why?" I asked.

"You have a visitor." He gestured impatiently toward the rectangle.

I walked through, not even taking a look back. I saw the last person I expected to see walk into the room. I had walked into. Tumai stared at me, her eyes wide. My heart leaped for joy. She had come for me. I smiled at her shocked face. "I must not look like much, do I?"

"No," she said. I walked toward her, bumping my head on an unseen wall. I looked around, trying to find some indication of it. The room was lighter than my normal one. It hurt my eyes, despite it being rather dark. I almost cried as I put my paw against the wall. I couldn't touch her. "Why are you crying?" she asked.

I realized that it wasn't almost; I actually was weeping. Tears ran down my face. "I can't even touch you. After I've dreamed about you so long . . ."

She swallowed. "I—I've thought about you, too. A lot."

"How did you die?" I asked. It couldn't have possibly been old age. Or had I been in there that long? Long enough for the ones that I knew to grow old and die?

"Hunting accident." She bit her lip before saying, "Malaiki."

A malaiki appeared on her side of the wall. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Get rid of the wall."

"Ma'am?"

"Do it." Nothing appeared to happen. "Now leave."

"Ma'am—" began the malaiki.

"Leave us. I'll be fine," said Tumai sternly.

"Yes, ma'am," said the malaiki, and disappeared.

I hesitantly approached her. The barrier wasn't there anymore. I put a paw to her face. "Oh, Tumai . . ."

She slapped me. Hard. I staggered under the blow. I looked back up at her. "Don't you dare touch me again, filth," she spat.

"Tumai," I said, shocked.

She clubbed me again. "Don't you dare speak my name, rogue."

I stared at her, horrified. "Why? Why do this?"

"Because I hate you." She hit me again. She smiled in satisfaction. "I certainly couldn't do that through the wall."

"You love me," I pleaded.

She spat in my face. "I detest you, rogue. You are less than nothing. And I—I can't believe how stupid I was. I can't believe I actually offered myself to you!"

The hate in her eyes was terrible. "Tumai," I protested, "I love you."

Her claws tore through my face. "I despise you. You think you can simply come back after eight years and just act like the den is your den? I can't believe how you think you can simply say you love me and—oh, gods! And I believed you!"

"Tumai—"

Her claws raked me one last time. "I hope you rot in there. I hope you never escape." She turned and left into a rectangle of golden savannah. I broke down and wept. I had nothing left now. She hated me. Gods knew why, but she hated me. I was reduced to a weeping, wailing mass on the floor. I don't know how long I took. I finally picked myself up and threw myself into my prison. Then I saw something that horrified me even more.

There was Tumai, sitting there, waiting for me. I let out an anguished cry. Then the strangest thing happened. Tumai's pelt was shed, like a second skin. Azl's massive body emerged from it, smiling. "I love playing pretend."

"You monster!" My hatred of him won out over my fear. I leapt at him, tackled him to the ground. I dealt a furious blow across his face. But when I hit him, just before I touched, the face changed. I hit Tumai. I tore through her face. I let out a horrified cry.

She looked up at me, blood dripping. "Why?" she pleaded. "Taraju . . ."

The face suddenly changed back to Azl. He laughed. "Oh, the look on your face! Priceless!"

I hit him again, with the same result. I couldn't believe how horrible she looked, with that gash down the side of her face. Then I did what I never thought I would. I hit her again and heard her cry of pain. "You aren't real!" I shouted. I hit her again and again. "You aren't real!"

"Taraju," she begged, "Taraju, stop! Please Taraju—"

I continued to hit her over and over, horrified at how effortlessly my paws seemed to kill her. I slowly clubbed her to death. Even after she was dead, with a trickle of blood coming out of her mouth, I continued. "It isn't REAL!" I finally got off her, staring at what I had done, tears flowing down my face. I had murdered her. It isn't real. She had died at my paws. It isn't real. Tumai was dead. "It isn't real," I said to myself hysterically. "It isn't real it isn't real it isn't realitisn'titisn'titisn't—"

A paw waved in front of my face. "'Sare."

I turned to the owner. "IT ISN'T—"

Sicwele clubbed me across the face. "Shut up or you'll get us all killed. Now, once again, are you ready to go or not?"

I stared at him in amazement. "You're . . . dead."

"What is your—Look, insanity isn't going to get you out of this. Now come on. We need to get down there."

"Down there?" I asked stupidly.

He took my face and pointed it at a gorge. I recognized it. Suddenly what I was doing came back to me. I was helping Sicwele get his kingdom. And Scai'a. "Down there," he said. "Now shift that black and white backside of yours."

I slid down the side of the gorge, barely paying attention. I tired to comprehend what was going on. I had done this. I had done this, and seen how badly it had all gone. But—but it didn't make any sense. Sicwele was dead, Dingane was dead, and I had been the cause of death for both of them. But there was Sicwele, just below me, leaping off the gorge wall and landing silently. I did the same and looked to see where Dingane should have been. And there he was. It didn't make any sense. I'd done this. Unless . . .

The gods had given me a second chance.

The gods were benevolent. They had given me a second chance, an opportunity to do it over. They had showed me what lay ahead, what would happen if I didn't change. It was far too late to stop Asari's death, but maybe . . . maybe I could save Sicwele. I would do my best, and I wouldn't ever, ever meet Azl. I would go to Heaven and never set a single digit inside Purgatory.

"Took you long enough," said Dingane.

"If you want to have a pride to rule after this is done, then you should be glad I'm doing this carefully," said Sicwele.

"Are you sure they're ready?"

"Yes. 'Sare had a little problem, though."

"He'll cope." Dingane turned to the den and roared, cutting though the night sky. "Hear this," he shouted. "We have come to avenge the murder of our beloved king Mpande. Come out, and we may be merciful."

I looked over at Sicwele. He stared toward the den, his face strained. He wanted to see Scai'a so much. I looked behind me and saw what I knew I would. Lionesses coming down the back of the gorge, lionesses that weren't ours. "Behind us!" I yelled. The pride turned, unable to see the other lionesses all that well in the moonless night. But they charged. The enemy cut them down viciously. They just cut through the lionesses, coming for all of us. I roared, charging into them, killing one after another, and feeling the wonderful, warm glow that was my adrenaline-charged bloodlust. Kill. The only word that mattered.

And then the thing I dreaded would happen occurred. The ground shook violently. I collapsed on top of another lioness's back and looked up to the walls to see them cracking, debris falling from them. I ran for the wall I had come down, only to have a huge rock crash down in front of me. I stood there, stunned, just staring at it. I was suddenly tackled by Sicwele, hearing him yell, "Move!" I rolled from the impact. I looked up to see another rock, and another as I dodged them. Then it stopped. The shaking just ceased.

I got to my feet. I could see nothing in the dust. "Sicwele!" I called. "Sicwele, where are you?" He didn't answer. "Sic—" I stopped, seeing a struggling form, the back half pinned under a rock. I ran to it, praying it wasn't him. It was. I knelt by him. "Sicwele."

He coughed. "That you, 'Sare?"

"Yeah. I'm going to get you out of here." I made to move the rock off his back.

"'Sare, no," he groaned.

"'Sare, yes." I pushed. It wouldn't budge. I pushed harder.

"'Sare, stop. Please," He begged. "For Scai'a. She's alive, I know it."

"I'm not letting you die."

"You're going to die yourself, 'Sare. Get out of here. And find something for yourself. Some—"

"I've got you to live for. So shut up and let me move—unh!" I stopped pushing. The rock just wouldn't move.

"'Sare, come here. Please." I went to his head. "Get out of here. As one last favor. I don't want you to die. I want to see Scai'a. Please, just give me these two things."

I was stunned. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. I had a second chance. I was supposed to stop this, wasn't I? But maybe . . . maybe there're some things you can't change. I stared at his pleading face. I felt tears begin to slide down my face.

"Please, 'Sare," he whispered.

I turned and ran back up the side of the gorge. Dingane would be there. And I'd . . . I'd tell him Sicwele was dead.

I pushed myself up the last bit of the wall to find Sicwele staring at me, an amused look on his face. "Didn't I tell you not to go too close to the edge?" I stared at him, then down into the gorge. I could just make out Dingane's red mane if I looked hard. I stared back at Sicwele. "You okay, 'Sare?"

"Uh . . ."

"Okay, as okay as you'll ever be?"

"I'm fine," I said.

"Good." Sicwele began to slide down the side of the gorge, some of the pride following him. I went as well.

"Sicwele—" I said as I reached the bottom.

"Shh!" he cautioned. He crept stealthily over to Dingane. "Let's do this."

Dingane roared into the night. "Hear this. We have come to avenge the murder of our beloved king Mpande. Come out, and we may be merciful."

I didn't know why I was reliving this again, but I didn't waste any time. I turned Sicwele's head as soon as Dingane began speaking. His eyes widened as he saw the enemy coming down the wall behind us. He ran toward them, yelling "Behind us!" He was one of the first in the charge. I ran after him, then stopped with horror. Sicwele had his head thrown back by an uppercut from another black-maned lion. The lion slashed through Sicwele's chest. Sicwele's head dropped back down. The lion slashed through Sicwele's face twice before it hit the ground.

"Sicwele!" I yelled. I finally found my legs. I ran forward, slashing through lionesses, feeling the bloodlust that came to me so easily. I sank my jaws into that lion's throat, heard his quickly stifled scream. He fell to the ground as I tore out his throat. Then the shaking began again. I ran to Sicwele and covered his body with mine. It would have been a useless effort. If a rock hit me, we'd both be trapped underneath it. But I wasn't thinking. Nothing touched me, other than a few smaller rocks, just enough to give me aches and pains the next morning. When the shaking finally stopped I opened my eyes that I had shut in fear. I looked at Sicwele. He was a mess.

"'Sare," he breathed.

"I'm getting you out of here," I said.

"No . . ."

"Too bad." I lied down next to him, grabbed a foreleg, turned, and stood up with him on my back. Easiest way to lift and carry an animal. One of the first things Sicwele had taught me. I doubt he ever expected me to use it on him.

"Put me down," he muttered feebly. I felt his warm blood trickling down my side.

I was about to tell him to shut up when I heard numerous snarls. I looked left and right, seeing lionesses I didn't know emerge from the dust. A proud, older lion stepped forward, staring at a corpse on the ground that I was standing on. I looked down to see my paw in the mess I had made of the neck of the lion that I killed. "My son is dead," whispered the lion.

"'Sare," begged Sicwele, "run."

It was a wonderful idea. I did so, knocking a lioness out of the way. They ran after me. One leapt onto my back as I began to climb the side of the gorge. Sicwele was thrown from my back. I looked down, then kept climbing. Going down was suicide. I finally reached the top of the ledge, ridden with guilt once again about leaving Sicwele. He had done nothing but raise me, actually making an effort sometimes to be kind of me, and—

—he was standing right there.

"Didn't I tell you not to go too close to the edge?" asked Sicwele. I gaped at him. He tapped the side of my face with a paw. "'Sare, snap out of it."

I knew my breathing was labored. "We have to go back," I said.

"What?" came from Sicwele and several other lionesses.

"You'll die," I said.

"Yeah, sure," he said. "Now come on, we've got a job to do."

I put my paw on his shoulder, claws slightly extended. "I mean it."

Sicwele looked at me. "What, are you going to kill me?"

"There'll be a—a thing. Ground shaking. Rocks falling. Please. Don't go."

"'Ground shaking'?" he said skeptically. "'Rocks falling'?"

"Yes."

"You expect me to believe that?"

I suddenly realized the position I was in. I knew exactly what was going to happen—but how was I supposed to explain that? "Please, just trust me. I just watched you die a third time. I don't want to see it again."

"I've come this far, I will not wait."

"Just wait five minutes," I pleaded. "Just five more minutes."

He sighed. "Fine. If you really think we need it, fine. We'll wait." We waited five minutes, and another five under my urging. Nothing happened. "We've waited long enough," Sicwele finally said. He started down the slope.

"I'm staying," I said. "I'm staying, and you should, too." He stopped as the rest of the lionesses slid down. "Please."

"If you want to be labeled a coward, fine, 'Sare." He lowered his voice to a whisper so that the lionesses below wouldn't hear. "But this kingdom will be mine." He continued sliding. I watched him go helplessly. When he went over to Dingane, they both shot me a look. Then it all began. The announcement. And then, without the help of my warning, the scream of the first lioness to be killed by the enemy. The horrible, blind charge, half of the pride heading to the empty den, the others occasionally attacking themselves. And then the shaking. The horrible, horrible shaking, and screaming, and death. I looked away.

A magnificent chest stood before me. "I really think you want to watch this." I looked up to see Azl's smile.

"You!"

"Me." He grabbed my head, turning it toward the gorge. "Me, me, me."

I watched as the falling rocks decimated the pride. One died after another. Every one of them died screaming, pleading for help from others that would never come. I looked away to see Azl still there. "Why? Why?!"

"Don't you want to know what happened to poor Sicwele? Take a look."

I tried to resist. Curiosity got the better of me. My gaze wandered down to Sicwele struggling underneath a rock. He was the only one left alive down there from my pride. And then the other pride came. They circled around him. I saw him looking around, then heard him say joyously, "Scai'a! Scai'a, it's me!" A lioness stepped forward and said something inaudible. And then, to Sicwele's horror, she turned and nuzzled another male, about Sicwele's age. He stared in disbelief, then let out an anguished cry.

I turned away as Scai'a's mate advanced on Sicwele. Somehow I still heard Sicwele's last gasp as the lion tore out his throat.

Oh my gods.

I felt horrible sorrow, unbelievable sorrow . . . watching every single one die, every single one of my family die, and then this . . . I looked up at Azl. "Why are you doing this?" I whispered.

He smiled. "Oh, don't tell me you don't want this. You've played it over and over in your head, trying to find something that would make a difference, something that you could have done to change things. Now you have your chance. Enjoy."

"I don't want to watch them die again and again! What kind of sick pleasure do you think I'd get from that?!"

"Oh, but you have so many things you haven't tried yet. Go ahead, try out everything. You've barely used a fraction of the plans you've thought of."

I pushed him to the ground, my paws on his chest. "Damn it, you keep changing it! How am I supposed to beat it if you keep changing it?!"

"Why not try?" He stretched out a foreleg. I followed it to see Sicwele staring at me.

"'Sare, come on," he said.

"Yes, 'Sare, go on," said Azl, his eyes mocking me. "Save him."

I stared at his face for a moment before I ran toward Sicwele and slashed him across the face. He went to the ground, and I quickly tore out his throat. I spat it out disgustedly. "You aren't real." I turned to Azl. "This isn't real!"

"Murderer!" a lioness yelled. She tackled me, biting down. I cried out in pain. The other lionesses attacked, each trying to kill me. Some threw themselves on top of me, knocking me to the ground. I cried out in pain as Azl was blocked from my vision, his mocking smile the last thing I saw before a lioness's stomach covered my eyes.

Then the lionesses were gone and I was safe again. Safe meaning I wasn't in imminent danger of being attacked. I stared at Azl, back in my prison. "I won't play your games."

He laughed at the thought. "And you really thing that will work? Here, let me show you my résumé." A cheetah suddenly appeared, proud and standing straight. "Before," said Azl with a smile. "After." The cheetah was no longer the magnificent specimen it was. It was hunched over in fear, its eyes wild and scared. "Of course, this is just my first. Early days for us all. The second went off without a hitch." The cheetah disappeared to be replaced by a leopard, just as impressive as the cheetah. "And after I worked my magic . . ."

The leopard was the epitome of fear. He seemed to have shrunk as he tried to make himself as small as he could, his eyes completely witless. He trembled in fear as he looked from me to Azl. He slowly shuffled backwards. Azl impatiently hit it across the face with a paw. It collapsed to the ground, covering its head with its paws as it curled up its body. Only noises escaped its throat. There were no words.

"Look at it," Azl said. "Look at that pathetic—thing. It cowers just at the sound of my voice. I could just motion, and it would yelp in fear. There is nothing left of him. Nothing. This is just an empty shell." The leopard disappeared and Azl turned to me with a look on his face which could only be described as "evil." "And you will be no different." His paw shot out to grab my neck. He pulled my face so it was only an inch from his. "I've heard those words of defiance over and over. And every single one of you has fallen. You have no idea how much I enjoy watching you writhe in pain. It is an obsession. I take pride in my work, Taraju. In breaking your pathetic forms. But I won't just break you. I will shatter your pathetic mind. You will beg for my mercy. And I will laugh. You'll be driven like all the others, until you're nothing but a witless brute, cowering at every bit of the world. It's only a matter of time."

I saw the truth in those eyes of his, as well of every bit of my hopelessness.

oOo

It continued. He attacked my mind, slowly tearing it apart. I'm sure he could have done it quickly. But that wouldn't have caused me pain. I was going insane, slowly, steadily, and with full knowledge of it. I couldn't fight back. The brink came further and further toward me.

But then I got a visitor. Two of them. I got to see how far I'd actually gone.

"Through there," ordered Azl, his muscular forearm pointing to a rectangle.

"I won't play your games," I said. My resistance still burned.

"Through there. Or else."

I went miserably. The else would no doubt be much, much worse. I walked into a lighter room, the room I had seen "Tumai" in. There, across the room, were two animals that I hadn't expected to see. It was Asari and Mpande, both dead because of me. I hung my head. Neither would have anything good to say to me.

"Akasare," said Mpande, his voice shocked.

I thought of it as a summon, as it used to always be when he was my king. I walked up to the middle of the room, then stopped and hesitantly held out a paw. It pressed against the unseen wall. "I can't go any further than here," I said.

The two of them walked to me. They didn't speak; they didn't know what to say. Then Mpande finally said, "What have they done to you?"

I knew they saw my haggard face, its desperation etched deep into it. "Nothing, yet," I said. "At least, that's what I'm told. The best is yet to come."

"Aka," said Asari softly.

"Please," I said, "just say what you came to and let me go back." The waiting only made it worse. It was something I should have learned when I first came here. I could have skipped out of a hundred forty years of this. "Just get it over with."

They stared at me, like I was a horrible thing. Which I was. I wasn't fit to even be near them. To be near any of them. I was one of the condemned. This wall kept my filth from them. "Aka," said Asari softly, "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For . . . for this." She gestured at the room.

I laughed bitterly. "Yes, we're all so sorry, aren't we? So sorry for Aka."

"I'm sorry we had to see you like this," said Mpande. "Really. I never imagined . . ."

"Never imagined what? That you'd find me here?"

"Yes," said Mpande. "I mean . . . you changed. You repented."

"One death wasn't enough to pay for what I did. The gods aren't that benevolent."

There was an embarrassed pause. "We came to try to help," said Mpande.

I gave a real, honest laugh. I heard the slight note of hysteria. "There's nothing you can do to help! There's nothing anyone can do to help!"

Mpande sighed as he blinked his healed eyes. "Do you want us to go?"

"I don't give a damn one way or the other. I'm beyond caring."

Mpande looked at me sadly, then turned. "Come, Asari."

"I—I want to talk to Aka, Daddy," she said, embarrassed. "Alone."

"Very well." Mpande stepped through a rectangle. "I'll wait," his voice echoed back.

Asari turned to me and placed her paw on the wall. "Aka . . ." A tear slid down her face. "I can't believe it . . ."

"It's true. I left you to die. I could have saved you."

She shook her head. "No. I know that. It's just . . . you look horrible. Like you're dead."

I smiled wryly. "Don't we all?"

Asari gave me a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Aka."

"For what?"

"For . . . for Sicwele." I'm fairly sure my mouth dropped open around this point. "You saw it . . . all of it . . ."

"How do you know?"

"They let me see it. I—I'm sorry. Please understand," she begged. "I thought you were gone. I didn't know."

"What are you saying?"

She bit her lip. "Malaiki," she said.

One appeared. "Ma'am?"

"Can you get rid of this barrier?"

"Do you really think that's wise, ma'am?"

"Please."

The malaiki sighed. "Very well, ma'am. There you go." It vanished again.

Asari approached me hesitantly. She crossed where the barrier had been. She came the rest of the way and put a gentle paw to my face. "I—I love you, Aka." She nuzzled my mane. "I've wanted to tell you so much . . ."

I pulled my head gently. I looked at her magnificent, blue eyes sadly, those blue eyes that I loved so much, staring at her body that had given me my first feelings of lust. So much had gone by since we had first met. "Asari . . . I love someone else. I love Tumai. I—"

"No! Please! You love me, I know you do!" She pressed herself against my neck. "Forget about Tumai! Just forget about her. You love me, not her. You love me."

I suddenly realized what I fool I'd been. I tipped her face up to mine with a paw. I smiled. "No, Azl." He should have known it wouldn't work twice.

"Azl?" he asked, his filthy self using Asari's mouth.

I pushed him away. "Don't play stupid. I won't betray Tumai. You'll never get that pleasure from me. You can torture me all you want, but I will never stop loving her."

"Aka, please," he said, pressing himself against my chest. He wrapped one of Asari's forelegs around me. "Aka, I love you." He licked my neck.

I pushed him away, harder. "Liar!" I spat. I whipped a paw across Asari's face, knocking him to the ground. Moments later I was on the ground myself. The malaiki had reappeared and had hit me with enough force to send a rhino down. I gave a cry of pain.

"Taka," the malaiki spat. It turned to Azl. "I'm very sorry, ma'am. I shouldn't have let it happen." He gently helped him up with a paw. "Are you alright?"

I let out a startled cry. It was Asari. And I—I had been paranoid enough to—oh, gods! "Asari," I said suddenly.

"Aka, no!" she cried. Something grabbed each of my legs. I looked down to see vines curling up from a dark rectangle I recognized all too well.

I began to thrash wildly as the vines pulled me toward the rectangle. "No! No! Asari—Asari, forgive me! Asari!" She disappeared as I was dragged through the rectangle, the rectangle vanishing the instant I was through. The vines disappeared.

"Bravo! Bravo! Encore!" I looked to see Azl clapping his forepaws together, supported by his flapping wings. He wiped a tear from his I. "These dramas—I get so emotional. They're beautiful."

"You rat bastard!" I shoved my face into his, or at least, as far as mine would go up to his. "How could you?! How could you do that to me?!"

He laughed. "I did that?" He laughed again. "You did it. You did every—single—bit."

I was horrified. I didn't want to believe it. But it was true. He had no part in it.

oOo

It still went on. I was, as predicted, being reduced to nothing. My mind was slowly pushed toward insanity. I was beaten when I gave Azl the wrong answer, the blows taking less and less to get the desired impact of utter fear. I died over and over without dying. Azl never let up. My mind was being torn apart.

I had two more visits. One was my father. Kovu told me to hold on, just to hold on a little longer, son, and that he loved me so much. His words did nothing for me, despite the hour-long heart-to-heart we had, me describing every detail of what went on in my life nowadays.

Shortly after I was visited by Fujo. I put on my best face for him. He was innocent; he didn't need to know what went on in there. Some of my anger slipped out. But none of my despair. I had enough control for that. I watched him leave the room, knowing I would never see what was beyond the visiting room, save for that rectangle of golden savannah they always left from. Not as me. I would only see it as a shattered, broken mess.

I worsened. And then the day that changed everything came. Azl had left urgently, not even giving a warning, just leaving. I sank to the floor, amazingly without injury, having the luck to have him go right after he had healed my body. I lied on the floor, relieved, so happy that my pain was over, at least for now. Any moment without him was a moment to be relished. He still managed to torture me, though. My stomach rumbled and my throat burned. I had forgotten the taste of food. I really had. I tried desperately to think of what meat tasted like, with nothing coming to mind. I hadn't eaten in so long.

Then Azl came back, ending a relief that had been far too short. "Sorry about that. Something's come up. Little trouble. Happened in the Pridelands, actually." My ears perked up slightly. "You want to go home, don't you?" he asked, his voice soft, gentle, sweet. Torturous.

"I want to go anywhere but here."

"What a shame. All those travel plans. Anyway, news from home." A long, white rectangle appeared in front of him, which he grabbed. "Da-dat-da-dat-da . . . Here we are. Kovu—dead. Kiara—weeping. Fujo—dead. Tumai—alive." My heart leapt for joy. He went through the rest of the pride, listing off an astonishing amount of those that were dead. But Tumai was alive. She still enjoyed life. I was happy for her. "Now that that's out of the way—Jadi's taken over, has ruled for a year, has slaughtered countless, blah, blah, blah. Uchu—"

"Who's Jadi? And Uchu?"

"Fujo's son and his mate."

"But—"

"Uchu has had a son, still continues to beat the lionesses whenever she feels like it, especially Tumai. The son will grow up, destroy the Pridelands after brutally cutting down Tumai in the worst way he can think of, will go on to either destroy the world or rule it forever, et cetera, et cetera."

"Destroy the Pridelands?"

"Yep. Just go and go and reduce 'em to ash. In fact, the little guy shouldn't even exist. He's part pure evil, part lion. Doesn't happen. Anyway, I just came back for a second to check in on you, see how you were doing, beat you bloody because this is all your fault, then attend to other business."

"My fault?!"

The bloody beating began with my head. I was sent to the ground, his claws ripping through my face, scratching out an eye. I screamed in pain as I had done far too often of late. "Your fault. If you hadn't been a coward—" he sliced open my stomach—"none of this would have happened! You'd have been king!" He rained down blow after blow. I'd stopped trying to fight back long ago. I sobbed, bones breaking, piercing my skin and organs. "You'd have stopped this! You would have never let this happen!" His voice had gone to a yell. I really do believe that he let out some of his anger on me. Gods knew he needed something at this time of all others. He stopped, then spit on my face. "I'll be back later." He left.

I was left alone with my thoughts and my pain. What he had said was true. I could have lived. I undoubtedly would have been picked king over Fujo. Tumai was being beaten—supposedly—because of me. I wanted to believe it wasn't true. But Azl was gone. He had been there for everything, always. He undoubtedly was truthful this time.

Suddenly my body was healed. I looked around for Azl. He wasn't there. Then pain flooded my mind again. It seemed to tear at me, ripping me apart. I sank to the ground, my paws pressed tightly against my skull. Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. I felt—pure. Like I could do no wrong. I looked up to see myself looking up. This must not make any sense at all. It was like looking at a pool, but in three dimensions. My reflection stared back at me. We spoke. "What the . . ." We stared at each other.

An evil smile crossed his face. "I'm coming," he said.

"What are you talking about?" I said.

He stared at me, his expression slightly curious. "You don't hear it, do you?" He shook his head. "But I can still show you the way."

"Free?"

"Yes. Come on, we can get out of here!" His paw pointed toward a dark rectangle. I hadn't noticed it. And it was a rectangle that looked too much like a place I had been before. The Black Line.

"I won't join Afriti! And to think you think it's even an option—" I stopped. We both realized in that instant what had happened. I thought he felt as I did. He felt nothing remotely close to it. We had the same body, a perfect replica of each other, but nothing filled his mind but—for lack of a better word—evil. Somehow—I don't know how—somehow I had been torn apart cleanly down good and evil. I was Taraju. He was Akasare. I wanted to please the world, he wanted to dominate it.

And he wanted to escape.

The same thought crossed out minds. We both darted for the rectangle. He nearly made it. I tackled him, holding on as tightly as I could, for once praying for Azl to be here. He struggled, reaching for the rectangle. I couldn't let him escape. What he would do to the world . . . he had no inhibitions. No one would be safe. Not from him.

I sank my jaws into his back. He roared out in pain as he arched his back inward, allowing his muscles to relax. I took the moment to pounce on him, wrapping my legs around him and trying to roll away from the rectangle. I got in two or three rolls before he stopped me, him on top. He stared down at my face with a grin, then began to club it with his right paw, sending four blows across my face before I blocked it and rammed my head into his. I took his momentary daze to whack him across the face and off me.

And toward the rectangle.

He fell to the ground, but we both knew how to fight. And one of the first rules was that you never wanted to be on the ground. It left too much of your underside exposed, the easiest place to hit for a good injury. He was back on his feet quickly. And he wasted no time at all running toward the rectangle. I tackled his back, wrapping my forelegs around his torso near the hind legs. He placed a paw inside the rectangle, and then another one. He looked back at me, an evil grin on his face.

"Enjoy your stay."

He pulled as hard as he could. My paws began to slip on their grip. His head went through, and his body, and then his hind legs, the rectangle throwing me off him completely as soon as I touched it. I was sent flying backwards, only to see the rectangle shut as I looked up. What hit me first was how quickly it had gone. Just a few blows, and I had lost him, a perfect example of why you couldn't easily defeat an enemy that was trying to run. I stood there, staring at where the rectangle had disappeared. I couldn't believe it. He was gone. Akasare was looks in the land of the living. And I was still here, doomed to suffer.

Or would I?

I suddenly realized what this had done. I was pure. I was clean. There wasn't a bad bone in my body. I had no reason to be punished. I wasn't nasty at all. It was my evil side that had done all those things that I was imprisoned for, right?

I felt good for the first time in Purgatory. I was going to explain it all to Azl when he came back. And I would be free. He finally did come back, after what seemed like hours. "Alright back to busine . . ." He was staring where he must have left me. He looked around and saw me. "Didn't I leave you in a broken, bleeding mass here?"

"Yes," I said.

"But you're in a perfectly fine, not bleeding mass there." He was honestly confused. "Oh, well," he said. "I'll just begin again."

"Azl," I said, "I'm clean. You can stop now."

He laughed. "Repenting won't do you any good." He hit me across the face brutally. I cried out in pain. "Now let's try this again. Who is the vilest scum in history?"

"Azl, please," I begged through a nearly dislocated jaw, "please, just stop! You don't need to do this!"

"But it's so much fun. And wrong answer." His claws raked my body. It went on like this for hours. He never believed me. I was stuck here, forced to endure torment that I would never escape.