•
I've seen all the downfalls, temporary heroes,
Misguided direction, longing for perfection.
Love and pain, only for the foolish,
Once again, trying to hide what's there inside.
I'm the same temporary hero who's to blame.
—Pat Benatar, "Temporary Heroes"
A gentle wind ruffled Kopa's mane, carrying with it the scent of giant groundsels as he walked past them. The morning sky was a lively blue by the time the sun edged over the eastern peaks, chasing away much of the shadows cast by the towering mountains. The winding path ahead weaved in and out of view between the tussocks growing in the coarse, arid lowlands; even the most vaguely familiar landmarks were far behind him now, which meant Kopa was going to have to rely on his sense of direction to navigate the mountains now.
It had been two nights since he left the Maelewano Forest, although he had lost Tumaini and Siri's trail not long after that. They had done a good job of covering their tracks, although perhaps a little too well. I thought I'd have caught up to them by now, Kopa pondered as he looked for any sign that his friend had passed this way. He soon surmised that they must have gone in a different direction entirely, likely to throw their pursuers off the scent. I just hope they're okay.
He hadn't really stopped to dwell upon it before, but traversing the mountains in solitude for the second morning now made him realize how unaccustomed he was to being away from Tumaini. On the first day, Kopa had made it to mid-afternoon before fatigue caught up to him; he had settled into the first safe place he could find, too tired to do anything but sleep. It only occurred to him now how strange it was to wake up and be utterly alone.
"You are never far from my sight or my protection," murmured Kopa to himself, determined to press on in spite of his growing misgivings. "I can see everything that moves on the plain. You are never far from my..." He trailed off upon hearing voices nearby, their guttural inflections belonging unmistakably to lions.
Kopa hurriedly ducked behind a dense cluster of groundsels, peeking around the spiky shrubs to see what was going on. A half dozen lionesses stood in a line with their backs turned to him, each of them painted from snout to flank in vivid lines and splotches. The Nami tribe, Kopa realized, recalling Tumaini's description of the most fearsome warriors in the mountains. They look even scarier in the flesh. No wonder he always told me to stay away from them.
The warriors' attention was fixated upon the lion before them, a middle-aged male with long russet fur. One of the lionesses, presumably their leader, stepped forward threateningly. "Turn back, trespasser. I will not say it again."
"I'm not looking for trouble," beseeched the russet lion. "I just need your help."
"We drove off the lions who ambushed you," she said flatly. "I think we have done more than enough."
"Please, one of my lions is badly hurt. He can't be moved right now."
Kopa shifted uncomfortably upon hearing this. He was about to reveal himself when he felt a paw on his shoulder. Startled, he suddenly noticed an ochre-furred lioness lying prone beside him. I didn't even hear her sneak up on me. She gave him a silent shake of the head, also watching the confrontation through the groundsel leaves.
"Your quarrel is not our concern, trespasser," intoned the lead warrior. "The last thing we need is for you to bring it into our territory."
"Then let me save him and we'll be gone," pleaded the russet lion. "You'll never see us again."
She tilted her head. "Or my warriors can kill you now, and we'll never see you again." She motioned to the other lionesses, and they began closing in on their quarry.
Without hesitation, Kopa leaped out from behind the bushes. "Wait!"
The ochre lioness winced from beside him but did not follow his example. The warriors turned in his direction, their leader narrowing her eyes at him. "You've taken a wrong turn, young one," she warned. There was something like fascination flitting behind her gaze, though he couldn't be sure if he had imagined it.
Heartbeat pounding in his ears, Kopa swallowed but managed to keep his voice even as he responded. "I'll help him. We'll be out of your territory before sunrise. You won't even have to get involved."
The warriors bared their teeth at him, clearly not pleased with the idea.
"Or you can kill us, sure," he conceded. "But what about the injured one? Would you sully your tribe's honour by taking a life who can't fight back?"
"I know your ways," the painted lioness growled. "You will report our presence to their leaders, and you will return in greater numbers."
"No, we won't," the russet lion interjected. "It's like you said, our quarrel doesn't concern you. We just want to get to the other side of the mountains."
She turned her scrutinizing gaze onto him. When he returned her stare unflinchingly, she said, "Sunrise. You and your lions have until then to walk away with your lives."
The russet lion nodded tersely. "Thank you."
"My chief would not have shown you mercy if she were here," she told them brusquely. "You would be wise not to take mine for granted. Do not be here when I return." With that, she swiftly turned and marched away, followed by the other warriors.
The russet lion let out an exhale and gave Kopa a nod of thanks. "I appreciate your timing, stranger. That wasn't a fight I was going to win." He cocked his head, noticing the way Kopa was staring at the groundsels where he had been hiding. "What are you looking at?"
Grumbling, the ochre lioness stepped into view. "Did you have to be so obvious? I kept your cover, didn't I?"
"'Sorry," said Kopa dubiously. "I'm not sure who you're supposed to be."
"The name's Kumi, and that's all you need to know," she answered, dusting off her fur a little.
"I'm Kopa."
"Sajin," the russet lion chimed in. He stared warily after the direction the lionesses had gone. "Who were they, a local tribe?"
Kopa nodded. "Yeah. Warriors, though apparently you can reason with them. Usually by doing whatever they say."
"You've met them before?" asked Kumi.
"No. My friend told me about them."
Sajin's shoulders were squared as he led the two of them away from the main path. "As long as they're good on their word to leave us be. I've got enough to worry about as it is."
"Your injured lion, right?" Kopa inquired. "How bad is it?"
"Bad. He's struggling to breathe."
It wasn't long before they reached a grassier strip of terrain, encircling a sloping knoll that was braced by a jagged boulder. Lying on his back near the boulder was a young lion with charcoal fur, breathing raggedly while a sandy-furred lioness was busily tending to his midsection. Kopa saw that the ground was littered with blood-stained clumps of yellow moss.
"Taya!" called Sajin. The lioness looked up as they approached.
"It's not good, Sajin," Taya grunted. "I've managed to stop the bleeding for now, but his breathing's only getting worse."
Kopa quickly crouched down next to the young lion, eyes scanning the deep gashes in his side and the slight discolouration in the blood around his wounds. Pressing an ear against his side, Kopa grimaced when he took a closer listen to his breathing. "Oh no."
"What?" said Taya immediately.
"He's got a punctured lung. This is going to be complicated."
"But you can save him?" pressed Sajin.
Kopa made a flustered noise. "I can try, if we had more than yellow moss to work with. But I wouldn't know where to start looking—"
"Snowflowers," interjected Kumi, speaking up at last. "He needs everlasting snowflowers."
Kopa's head shot up instantly. "Snowflowers. Of course. If we seal the leak, his lung can reinflate itself."
Sajin's eyes darted from him to Kumi, trying to process this. "And then the puncture will heal?"
"It should," Kopa affirmed. "I once had to get the water drained from my lungs, and I recovered fine."
Kumi peered up at the enormous mountains looming over their heads. "Trouble is, snowflowers only grow in the extreme cold. And the kid has until nightfall at the longest."
"Then we'd better get on it," Kopa said decidedly.
"Stay with him, Taya," ordered Sajin. "We'll be back as soon as we can."
Taya nodded. "Thank you, both of you," she said to Kopa and Kumi.
"Don't mention it," the ochre lioness replied. "And I mean that literally."
•••
Fuli had never liked the mountains. Her short fur was ill-suited to the cold, and unlike lions, she did not have the body mass to sustain heat for very long. And as if the chill seeping into her bones wasn't irritating enough, the uneven terrain made it even more difficult for her to get up to speed. A cheetah who could not run was a useless one, and Fuli did not like feeling useless, particularly when she was in close proximity to a bunch of potentially hostile lions.
Initially there had only been three of them, a black-maned male and two females. Fuli, who had spotted them wandering the mountains just before midday, took care to go unnoticed as she followed. Since then she had only managed to catch snatches of their words, but with the sun now perched in the western corner of the sky, she had heard enough to have caught all their names — Malka, Fika, and Bidi.
Fuli peered around the boulder she was hiding behind, noticing that the lions had been met by six painted lionesses just shy of the canyons ahead. None of them appeared to be looking her way, so she nimbly darted from cover to cover, taking care not to so much as kick over a single loose stone.
Once she was as close as she dared get, Fuli managed to slip behind a half-toppled outcropping on the side of a dusty hill, and craned her neck to try and make out the lions' conversation more clearly.
"Come on, Nia," beseeched Malka. "You wouldn't be so far from your territory if you didn't know how serious this was."
"Do not presume my reasons for being here," snapped Nia, the painted lionesses standing at the centre.
"Okay, I won't," he said placatingly. "All I want is a little information."
Nia scowled. "You have a habit of taking more than you ask for."
Malka scoffed defiantly at this. "I never 'took' anything, and certainly nothing that belonged to your people."
Fuli noticed Fika and Bidi shifting uneasily as the painted lionesses glowered at him. Nia narrowed her eyes. "You don't want to get into this with me, Malka."
"You're right, I don't," he admitted. "My pride is scattered all over these mountains and I have to do something about it."
"They know to seek refuge at your hideout, do they not?"
"I can't hope that they'll make it on their own. Those lions are still after us."
Nia was silent for a moment.
Malka sighed. "Listen, if your chief wants to stay neutral, then stay neutral. I just need to know what I'm up against. Please, Nia, give me a chance to help my people."
"And how many of those have you had?" she asked coldly.
"More than I deserved, I know that. But I also know my pride doesn't deserve this."
The animosity did not vanish from Nia's expression. But her eyes told Fuli that Malka had gotten through to her. The lioness gave a huff of resignation. "They call themselves the Duara Vunja — it means 'the broken circle' in our native tongue, something your people cast aside long ago."
"Nia, you can lecture me all you want when there's time," said Malka impatiently. "Why did they attack us?"
There was just a hint of venom in the smile she showed. "You mean it isn't obvious? The animals that abandoned your kingdom because of your neglect — did you not think they would seek retribution?"
He frowned, shaking his head. "We were ambushed by lions. No one else was there."
"And you're an imbecile if you believe they acted alone," Nia scoffed.
"The wild dogs," gasped Malka in sudden realization. "Fujo said they had allies."
She cocked her head, disdain momentarily abated by bemusement. "You truly do not know what you're up against. I fear your people are doomed."
"Your vote of confidence is appreciated," he muttered, now distractedly pondering something.
"You have not changed at all, and so I have little faith in you."
Malka peered up and grinned archly. "Well, you used to be a cheerful little pipsqueak, but I still have faith in you."
As Fuli watched Fika and Bidi struggle to stifle their snickers in spite of themselves, she thought about Kion's instructions. "Stay out of sight. Learn what you can. Don't do anything without reporting it to me first." Not terribly unreasonable considering the circumstances, but Fuli couldn't help but worry about Kion all the same. He's a little too much like Simba sometimes, and not always in a good way either. She couldn't be quite sure, but it didn't seem like Malka and his people were a bad sort. My gut's telling me it's safe to come out. I'm sure Kion will underst—
A strong gust suddenly blew past Fuli, prompting her to dart back on reflex. But she saw the heads turning her way even before she concealed herself, and held her breath as she wondered if they had caught her scent.
She got her answer a heartbeat later. "Cheetah," hissed Nia. "It must be one of them."
"What?" came Malka's confused response. "Who's 'them'?"
"The ones who sent the lions, you buffoon! You'll have to silence that cheetah before they report back."
Fuli had already dashed out of cover before Nia finished speaking, furtively glancing over her shoulder to see Malka and his lionesses in pursuit. Curiously enough, neither Nia nor her painted lionesses joined in, not that Fuli was complaining. I should be able to outrun these three, she thought, vigilantly watching for tripping hazards on the rough terrain. If nothing else, I can definitely outlast them by a few hundred paces.
It seemed Kion had been right to be cautious after all. Fuli couldn't begin to guess what had these lions spooked enough to try and kill her on sight, but there was no way she was going to take her chances trying to reason with them — not while they had her outnumbered three to one.
As she ran, she couldn't help but miss the days of settling petty squabbles in the Pride Lands. Things used to be so easy. These days I'm finding more and more that we don't have the answers to... well, anything. Even right now, running for her life, Fuli wasn't sure which side they were supposed to be on. The thought alone was enough to make her more disquieted than ever.
•••
"Watch your step," advised Kumi as they trudged up the increasingly deeper layers of snow blanketing the mountainside. "Not every snowbank is made of solid ground underneath. The ones that are frozen to the mountainside will slide apart under your weight, and take you right with it."
Kopa tentatively followed her up the precarious climb, stepping only where she did and doing his utmost not to look at the sheer drop to his left. Out of the corner of his vision loomed the other mountains from the misty depths below. The mountainside was still plastered with snow, despite the fact that they had passed over the clouds some time ago. The sun was still shining brightly, but it was clear that the afternoon was slipping away.
As if thinking the same thing, Sajin spoke up from the back of the line. "How much higher are we going? You said Kiza only had until nightfall."
"You're right, I shouldn't be too picky." Kumi stopped as they reached a flat stony area beneath an overhang, just outside what appeared to be a tunnel or cave. She examined the messy piles of disturbed snow strewn about, nose twitching in the frosty air. "Interesting."
"What?" asked Kopa.
Whatever it was, she didn't appear concerned. "Don't worry about it. This spot will have to do. It's cold enough for snowflowers to grow, and it should be safe to dig here."
Needing no further encouragement, Kopa scrambled away from the edge, grateful for the abundance of solid ground beneath the overhang. He saw Sajin wade into the snowbanks and hastened to join him.
"Not there, Kopa," called Kumi. "Come over to me."
He hopped over amidst a spray of snow and landed next to her, sending a fine white mist everywhere. She blinked as the snow gently drifted down onto them both.
Kopa held back a sneeze, brushing some snow off his nose. "Sorry, I didn't kn—"
To his surprise, Kumi actually laughed. "We should get started. Our bodies can ward off the cold for a while, but the sooner we're out of this snow the better."
"Yeah, I learned my lesson a few nights ago," he muttered, thinking about how he and Tumaini flooded their den.
Silence fell over them for the next while. Their paws quickly became drenched as they rummaged and scooped out pawfuls of snow, looking for any sign of snowflowers sprouting out of the stony surface underneath.
"You don't like heights, huh?" remarked Kumi. Her face registered faint amusement upon seeing his look of surprise, even as they continued to dig. "I've lived in these mountains all my life. I could smell the fear on you the moment we started climbing."
Kopa grunted in response. "Yeah, I've learned lately that I'm easier to read than kila*."
"Don't be so self-conscious," she smirked, punching him lightly in the shoulder with one paw. "You came all the way up here even though you're afraid, which really tells me a lot about you."
He did not know what to say to this, so they resumed digging in silence. After clearing away a considerable amount of snow from one side of the overhang, Kopa was heartened upon catching a glimpse of a green-brown vine half-visible beneath a thin layer of snow. He reached in and grabbed it, careful to keep his claws retracted so as not to puncture the vines. Kumi had found another strand, and they deposited both vines away from the snow.
He felt her nudge him as they continued digging. She lowered her voice and asked, "If you don't mind me asking, what was that with you and Nia back there?"
"Nia?" said Kopa quizzically.
"The lioness you practically volunteered to be killed by. I've known her a long time, and I've never seen her show leniency to a stranger."
He thought back to his brief standoff with the painted lioness warrior, and the strange look he thought he had seen. "I don't know," he murmured.
"Nia doesn't ever flinch from punishing trespassers in Nami tribe territory," reflected Kumi, intrigued. "Though if I were you, I wouldn't stick around long enough to find out why."
"Yeah..." Kopa shook his head, deciding not to dwell on it at the moment. "So what about you? Why are you out here?"
"Oh no, kid, I don't do personal details," she said briskly. "You never know who can be trusted around here."
"You trusted me when we met," he pointed out.
"No, you piqued my interest is all," clarified Kumi. "I just know that even the locals have trouble talking down the Nami tribe, and I'm sure we've never crossed paths before."
"We haven't. Err, I don't think."
She tilted her head curiously. "You don't think?"
"Let's just say my memory isn't the most reliable."
They found a few more strands of snowflowers, though their pile was still pitifully small. Kumi looked deep in thought for a moment, and then turned and called, "Sajin, over here!"
Sajin immediately hurried over, eyeing the vines coiled together. "These are the snowflowers?"
"They sure are," she replied. "Take these down while we keep digging, we'll need at least some of them thawed by the time we bring the rest. Don't bite too hard or they'll burst."
The russet-furred lion cautiously took the vines in his mouth and hurried off. Kopa noticed Kumi watching to make sure he was gone before turning her attention back to him, and he gave her an inquisitive look.
"You got a habit of stopping to help strangers?" she asked, silently motioning for him to follow her a little further up and away from the overhang.
"I do what I can," he said, reluctantly stepping out of the shelter and back into the elements. "I'm only here because someone once did the same for me." The sound of the wind picked up almost instantaneously in his ears. To his relief, she did not take them far before stopping once again.
"You have a good heart, kid. But odds are you're helping the wrong people right now."
Kopa raised an eyebrow. "You mean Sajin? Aren't you helping him too?"
"I'm trying to figure out who they are," Kumi disclosed. "I was halfway through the mountains when I heard a... rumour. Turned back a couple days ago to investigate. Now there are lions I don't recognize passing through these parts, which makes me think it wasn't just a rumour."
"You're talking about the attack on Mount Tempest, aren't you?" Kopa guessed.
The intense look she gave him told him he was correct. "Where did you hear about that?" she asked warily.
"A lioness named Siri — she stumbled into my home two nights ago. My friend and I helped her escape the lions that came after her. He's bringing her somewhere safe now."
The tension eased from Kumi's demeanour, though she did not show any emotion otherwise. "I see."
"Anyway, I'm pretty sure Sajin and the others are from her pride too."
"They're not."
Kopa frowned. "How do you know?"
Kumi bit her lip. "Because I am," she said reluctantly.
He froze, only now realizing that he had never clarified this with Sajin or Taya. "So if you're—that means they're... the Duara Vunja?"
"Is that what they're called?"
Kopa nodded gingerly, now stricken with anxiety. "Siri told me about them. She's got history with their leader, Janga."
"News to me," grunted Kumi. "Siri never mentioned anything about them when she joined my pride."
"So what do we do?" he asked trepidatiously.
She gave a half-shrug as she led him back toward the overhang. "Well, I'm still here and so are you. I think you already know the answer."
She's right. That lion, Kiza — there's no one else he can count on. "He's going to die if I don't do something," murmured Kopa.
To his relief, Kumi nodded. "Whatever this Duara Vunja wants with my pride, he's just a kid who was following orders. He deserves a chance."
"Then you've got a good heart too, Kumi," he told her.
She smiled secretively. "Maybe. I'll make sure Sajin tells me what this Janga's endgame is. I won't have another chance once they learn who I am."
Kopa was about to keep digging when Kumi held out a paw to stop him. He looked up to see her staring into the mouth of the cave as she took a few steps forward. "It's okay, you can come out," she said.
To his astonishment, one of the boulders lying inside suddenly shifted, rising up on four thick stumps that Kopa realized were legs. Out of the cave plodded an adolescent hippo, albeit one who was already comparable in size to them both. However, the sheepish smile he wore quickly assuaged Kopa of any concerns about whether or not he was a threat. "You knew I was there the whole time?" asked the hippo. As he turned toward Kumi, Kopa was fascinated to see the marking of a tree-shaped lion head on his shoulder.
"No," admitted Kumi. "I did see that some of the snowflowers had been freshly picked. And the winds up here erase tracks from the snow very quickly, but I did notice those."
Kopa followed her gaze as she indicated some faint markings on the floor outside the mouth of the cave. He examined them more closely and saw that they were frozen hippo tracks, barely visible against the stone surface.
"Poa," the hippo said, impressed. "You're very perceptive."
She peered past his shoulder into the cave. "And the snowflowers you've gathered in there, do you need them urgently?"
"No, they're just in case something happens," he said unabashedly. "Why, do you?"
Kumi nodded. "We're trying to save a life. He's not much older than my youngest boy."
Without hesitation, the hippo stepped aside, making room for them to pass. "Take it all. I can find more."
Kopa blinked. "Are you sure?"
The hippo gave a heartfelt smile. "I'm sure. Go save your friend. Just don't tell anyone you saw me, please?"
Kumi smiled back. "Asante. You're a kind soul, hippo."
•••
Siri opened her eyes when she felt a light drizzle patter against her face. She sat up to take in the moody, fog-blanketed surroundings, filling her lungs with cool, clean air. The sky had faded to a sullen grey as afternoon gave way to dusk, but she didn't mind one bit. Rainstorms had a way of frequently finding their way to Mount Tempest, which helped to maintain its massive supply of clean water. And with the rain to conceal her scent, her mind was just a little more at ease as the gentle downpour cocooned her from the rest of the world.
Not far from the trees under which she slept, Tumaini was perched atop a large slanted rock. His mane ruffled in the wind as he stared pensively into the mist, almost completely still except for his breathing. Slowly, Siri got up and walked toward him, testing her weight at the same time; she had removed the leaves from all her paws except one, and aside from a slight pain in her bad paw, she found that she was able to at least move on her own again.
As she joined Tumaini, his gaze did not move even as he spoke. "Sleep well?"
"Better than yesterday," replied Siri. "Sorry for holding us up, I know we shouldn't be stopping right now."
He shrugged. "You needed your rest, and it's easier for me to keep watch during the day."
"Thanks for understanding."
"It's nothing," he said shortly. "Kopa used to have night terrors all the time."
The wind intensified, prompting Siri to turn her head. Tumaini shook some rain out of his eyes.
"You're looking for him, aren't you?" she surmised.
He wrung his paws fretfully. "Why didn't I leave him a sign while I was covering our tracks? There was time, I know there was."
"You're not going to think of everything all the time, Tumaini. He'll find his own way to us."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Tumaini muttered. "You ready to keep moving?"
Siri nodded. The black-maned lion hopped down from his perch to take position next to her. "It's okay, I can manage on my own," she told him.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I've been hurt worse before. I know my limits."
Tumaini watched her gingerly take a few more steps before he started walking beside her, eyeing her slightly uneven steps every now and then. "How are you holding up?"
"I told you, I can walk fine," she said.
"No, I mean... you were talking in your sleep again. Crying out."
Siri fell silent for a moment as they continued walking. "What your friends did for me... I can't stop picturing it when I close my eyes."
"It wasn't your fault," he told her softly, even as his voice broke a little.
"That doesn't change what happened, does it? I'm so sorry, Tumaini."
Tumaini set his jaw firmly. "Listen, Siri. I knew the risks, and you tried to warn me. I gotta live with that, okay? Not you."
"We have to make it count," she growled. "For your friends and mine. My pride needs to know what they're up against — and so does King Simba."
"Leave that part to me," he reassured. "It's been a while, but I've reached the border of the Serengeti Pride Lands before."
"They just call it 'The Pride Lands' there."
"How egocentric of them. Do you know how many prides there are between here and the Serengeti?"
"Six."
Tumaini stopped walking to stare at her blinkingly.
Siri grinned. "You didn't know that, did you?"
"You said you weren't familiar with the mountains," he muttered, falling back into step with her.
"I'm not," she responded. "My parents and I would pass through but we'd never stay long. Dad said the mountains were too unpredictable."
"He was right. Not everyone around here takes kindly to strangers."
"I guess that's why Janga wanted Mount Tempest. The pass would have given her a direct route through the mountain range."
Tumaini raised an eyebrow. "'Would have'?"
"Someone, and I have a good guess who, dumped a bunch of rocks from the mountain onto the pass," Siri recalled, her gaze hovering on a tall bush she was walking past. "And then the earthquake happened, which should get you all the time you need to reach the Serengeti with—" Without warning, she thrust a paw into the bush and hauled out a squirming adult honey badger by the scruff. "I thought I smelled someth—ow!" She dropped the stocky creature, who had unfastened a wooden stave from around his waist and whacked her on the paw with it.
The honey badger landed on his hind legs, wiggling his stubby snout in annoyance. "Why'd you have to do that? I wasn't supposed to let anyone see me!"
"And why's that?" asked Tumaini, holding out a paw to stop Siri as she moved to retaliate.
"Can't tell ya," the honey badger said nonchalantly. "Top-secret stuff, hence the sneaking—"
Siri spotted the tree and lion head sigil on his shoulder and her mouth dropped. "You're with the Night Pride."
"How'd you know that?" he blurted, hands tightening around his stave. "Uh, I mean..."
"I've been to the Tree of Life a long time ago," she murmured, reflecting on that distant period of her cubhood. "I didn't know they let honey badgers onto the Night Pride now."
The honey badger straightened proudly. "Well, normally they don't. But my friends and I used to be the Lion Guard, so—"
"The Lion Guard!" exclaimed Siri. "So you're from the Serengeti Pride Lands?"
"We just call it 'The Pride Lands', actually," he said.
"That's a yes," deadpanned Tumaini.
Siri gave him an admonishing nudge. "What are you doing all the way out here?"
"It's a long story," admitted the honey badger, rubbing his head ruefully, "and honestly we got a little sidetracked. You're better off asking Kion once I find him."
"There's no time to go running in circles," Tumaini said firmly. To Siri, he added, "The goal is to get you to Mount Kilimanjaro."
"What about him?" asked Siri, indicating the honey badger.
"Yeah, what about me?"
Tumaini thought for a moment. "Are you heading for the Serengeti by chance?"
"Well, no," responded the honey badger. "The plan was to find our friend Anga since we haven't heard from her in a while. But who knows, maybe this is an emergency and we really should tell Simba what's going on. I'll have to ask Kion."
"Could you bring this Kion a message for us?" the black-maned lion inquired. "We could use some help if he's willing to lend it."
"I suppose we never say no to helping people. What do you want him to know?"
Tumaini looked to Siri, who nodded in approval. She took a moment to collect her thoughts before clearing her throat. "It started four nights ago, when my pride was attacked by invaders..."
•••
Ono quickly decided he did not like the look of the lions he was observing in the canyon below. He took in their features the best he could, committing them to memory in the fading light. They had yet to notice him, but in adulthood Ono was no longer as diminutive as he used to be, and he certainly wasn't eager to take unnecessary risks by watching them for longer than he had to. But until I find out who they are, here I am.
Evening was now drawing near, and still the lions toiled away, depositing rock after rock into the crevice with unsettlingly little commotion. The egret stretched his canvas-like wings out to make another wide circle over them, listening through the rush of the wind for whatever he could make out. Although his now-healed eyesight was no longer as acute as it once was, his ears were still as discerning as ever.
Unfortunately, the lions hadn't said a word since he noticed them, leaving him without so much as a name to put to a face. But that grey one... I have a feeling about her. Ono's gaze lingered on the crafty-looking lioness at the front of the group; the calculating silver eyes, the swift noiselessness with which she moved, the way the others followed her lead without question — he would bet his tail feathers she was instrumental in what was happening.
Ono's attention was drawn by a lanky yellow form lurking a ways down the canyon from the mysterious lions. He immediately identified it as Fuli, who was looking straight up and waving at him with the Night Pride's "regroup" signal. The egret peeled off from his trajectory and swooped into a downspiral, gliding smoothly toward the ground before landing with barely a rustle. "You see them too, huh?" he remarked.
"See is about it," grumbled Fuli. "Not a very talkative bunch, are they?"
"Haven't heard a peep. Anything on the marks you've been following?"
"Yeah, it turns out Malka's a king. I had to run once they made me though."
"Rani didn't mention a kingdom around here," mused Ono. "She's usually very specific about those things. Are you sure you heard right?"
"Positive," she replied. "I've been made though, so I had to run."
He frowned, troubled by the news. "It's not like kingdom lions to be unfriendly. Something must be wrong."
"You're telling me. They thought I was with some animals who had a territorial dispute with them."
Something occurred to Ono just then. "This could be why we still haven't heard back from Anga."
"You think so?" asked Fuli dubiously.
"I'll need more details before I can be sure, but yeah, I have a hunch about this."
"A hunch? That's not like you, Ono."
The egret gave a strained smile. "I might be bending a little toward irrationality right now. Nirmala says I do that when I worry."
"Anga can take care of herself," she told him resolutely, though he saw the tightening around her brow. "We gotta focus on what's in front of us."
Ono peered at the lions in the distance once more. They were now scaling the canyon walls, slipping out of view one by one. It looked as if they had finished or given up on whatever it was they were doing.
"What's going on?" asked Fuli, squinting into the darkness. "Why have they gone quiet?"
Ono craned his neck incredulously. "They're... leaving? But why would they make all that effort only to—" Realization dawned on him, and he gasped. "Hapana. The barricade's a trap. Those other lions are gonna walk right into it."
He made to take off when Fuli's paw closed around his beak. "Hold it, Ono," she hissed. "Those lions tried to kill me just now, so maybe let's not go straight to them until we have the facts."
"We don't leave people in danger, Fuli," said Ono firmly, his voice muffled around her paw.
"We won't." Fuli let go of his beak and straightened. "It's time to report in. Kion's gonna want to know about this."
This was never in the job description, thought Ono, annoyed despite the gravity of the situation. It was infinitely more difficult for them to do what they did best while having to avoid getting involved. If I'm right about this, then staying hidden isn't going to be an option for much longer.
I just hope Kion makes the right call before it's too late. He hasn't been the same since Anga disappeared.
•••
Evening had descended by the time Kopa and Kumi made it back down to the lowlands. Once again he found himself drenched and shivering, although he put it out of his mind as they hurried back to the knoll where Kiza laid. The charcoal lion's breathing had become noticeably more laboured, and there was a faint whistling noise coming from the hole in his side every time he tried to draw breath.
Sajin was following Taya's instructions as quickly as she was giving them. "Get more yellow moss," she said. "We need to apply a compress."
He grabbed a pawful of moss from a nearby pile and hurried to comply. Kiza grabbed the older lion's foreleg and managed to gasp a few words. "No, stop, stop... I can't..." He made a choking sound and coughed violently, spraying blood violently.
Sajin gave Taya an uncertain look. She patted Kiza reassuringly. "Sorry, Kiza. We have to keep your temperature up or you won't last the night." She saw Kopa and Kumi approach, vines clutched in their mouths, and motioned for them to set them down. "Sajin, start thawing those out. Just don't sit on them or something."
Kopa deposited his vines next to Kumi's, and Sajin immediately placed them under his forelegs to warm them. Seeing Kumi grab one of the already thawed vines, Kopa hurried to help her as she used one claw to puncture the pods one by one. He did the same, causing a fluffy snow-like foam to expand from the pods.
The two of them passed their vines to Taya, who expediently administered the foam onto the ghastly wound in Kiza's side. "Take a deep breath, Kiza," the sandy-furred lioness instructed. "Just like earlier."
Kiza let out a long, gurgling gasp as the porous foam covered his punctured lung, re-inflating it as the foam was drawn further into his body. When he exhaled, Kopa noticed that the foam now seeped out in bright crimson. Taya quickly wiped it away, spreading dark stains across her paws and Kiza's fur.
"Keep it coming," Kumi told Kopa, already popping more pods. "We need to draw the blood out of his lung before we can seal the wound."
As they worked, Kopa found he could not avert his gaze from Kiza, who was focusing on breathing and not much else. The charcoal lion's expression was tense with agony, but he managed to return Kopa's gaze. It was a curious thing, to see someone his age devoted to Janga's cause. And yet he could see none of the viciousness Jeraha had exuded so flagrantly.
Once Kopa and Kumi used up the first batch of snowflowers, Sajin began passing them the vines he was thawing out. The foam was a little stiff and a lot less abundant, but fortunately the hippo had provided them with plenty to use. Eventually Kiza's breathing began to even out, and with what sounded like a sigh of relief, his head lolled to the side as he slipped into unconsciousness. A sizable pawful of snowflower foam sat nestled in his side, now almost colourless save for a tinge of red around the edges.
Kumi slumped back at last, using the grass to wipe the bloody foam off her paws. Sajin got up, leaving the remaining snowflowers to thaw on their own. "Is he stable?" he asked.
Taya tossed aside the expended vine she was holding, its pods deflated and oozing traces of foam. "Yeah, but we need to keep him warm. He's lost a lot of blood."
"There's plenty of ginger growing in these mountains," Kumi told her. "Pick some for him to chew on and it'll hold him over till morning."
"I'm on it," said Taya briskly. She dashed off without question.
Kumi stood up, having regained her breath. "Now Sajin, it's my turn to ask something of you."
"It's the least I can do," Sajin said. "What do you need?"
"Information. What are you doing here, really?"
The russet lion sighed. "It's complicated. Time isn't on our side, so we took some drastic measures."
Her eyes were fixed beadily on him. "That doesn't answer my question."
"I know. I'm curious as to what it might be to you."
"I'm someone who doesn't want a war in these mountains," Kumi responded. "Now answer my question."
Sajin turned his gaze to Kopa. "And how about you? What did you want out of this?"
"I didn't—" Kopa faltered. "It was the right thing to do."
"And I'm thankful, but I get the sense you know more than you're letting on as well."
"You're stalling until Taya returns," Kumi remarked. "Rest assured, she will have to go some distance before she finds any ginger."
"You sent her off on purpose," realized Sajin.
Kumi scoffed as she strode over to Kiza's prone form. "Of course I did. So tell me what I want to know..." She unsheathed one claw and held it against Kiza's throat. Kopa froze, while Sajin bared his teeth. "...and you'll have saved his life twice tonight. Sound fair to you?"
"Kumi?" croaked Kopa. "What are you doing?"
"Exactly what it looks like, kid," she said, stone-faced.
Sajin sputtered in indignation. "You just saved him, and now you'd...?"
"Yes, I would," she growled. "For his sake, you'd better not doubt me."
Kopa took a step forward. "Kumi, come on. There's gotta be another way."
"This is what war looks like. They never gave my pride a chance."
"Your pride?" said Sajin.
"You said you didn't want a war in these mountains," Kopa reminded her.
Kumi made a derisive noise. "Weren't you listening? War's already here." She looked back to Sajin, pressing her claw harder against Kiza's throat. "Now spill, or I will."
He bound forward. "Okay, stop! We're the Duara Vunja. Our target is Pride Rock."
"We know that part," Kopa said. "What's your leader planning to do once she's there?"
Sajin held his gaze on Kiza, but his voice held steady. "She wants to convince Simba to end his reign peacefully."
"I have a hard time believing that," scowled Kumi, "seeing as she didn't show me the same courtesy."
"You... you're the Queen of the Mtera Pride?" The russet lion took a few steps back.
She smiled, although it was more teeth than anything. "Yep. It's your lucky day."
Kopa edged closer to Kumi, doing his best to maintain a placating tone. "Okay, he answered your question. Now step away."
"Remember I'm on your side, Kopa," she said with a hint of irritation.
"Are you?" he asked calmly.
"You helped Siri, right? I'm guessing that didn't come without consequences."
Kopa lowered his gaze. "It didn't."
"Then you know what we're up against."
"But I don't know about you." His eyes shot up to meet hers again. "Did you mean what you said earlier? About how Kiza deserves a chance?"
At last, he saw a flicker of doubt appear in Kumi's amber eyes. "Yes."
"Then show me I can trust you," Kopa implored. "Let him go."
The ochre lioness did not budge.
He gave a frustrated grunt. "This isn't gonna help you win. You know that."
Slowly, warily, Kumi backed away from Kiza with her paws raised away from him. Kopa breathed a sigh of relief — and then Sajin leaped at her.
Kopa immediately darted forward, tackling the older lion from the flank to hold him down. He saw Kumi bare her teeth, ready to fight, and shouted, "No, just run!"
She paid him no heed, stepping closer with her claws out. Right as Kopa was contemplating if he was going to have to take her on as well, she halted at the sound of rapidly approaching pawsteps.
Sajin stopped struggling as well. "Taya," he murmured.
"Leave, now!" Kopa barked at Kumi. "I won't help you fight them!"
She growled but did not take another step, instead turning and sprinting off into the mountains. Taya appeared a moment later, the ginger dropping from her jaws as she took in the scene with confoundment. "Zuberi's mane, what did I miss?"
Kopa finally let go of Sajin and rose to his paws again. "If you're thinking of trying that with me, you'd better do it now," he snarled. "Because the next time we meet, we will be enemies. Do you hear me?"
The russet lion looked strangely distracted. "You smell like... her."
Kopa frowned, not having expected this response. "What?"
"Your scent," Sajin muttered, nose involuntarily twitching in his direction. "It's remarkably similar to someone I once knew."
"Whose scent?" urged Kopa. "Who are you talking about?"
The older lion looked him up and down in bewilderment. "Nala. The Queen of the Pride Lands."
Kopa's eyes widened. His voice dropped to a hush as he tried to contain himself. "Tell me what she looks like."
"She's strong, sturdy. Light tawny fur, the colour of desert sand."
His pulse quickened. The lioness in the savanna? Only way to know for sure... "What colour are her eyes?"
Sajin thought for a moment. "Somewhere between green and blue, like the ocean under the sun."
Kopa staggered back, stunned by the realization of what this meant. Simba. Nala. Yes, that sounds right... right? That means... I'm... the crown prince. I'm a prince? His eyes darted to Sajin and Taya, and in that moment every instinct screamed at him to run.
"Let me get this straight," said Taya in astonishment. "You're Nala's kid?"
He backed away from her, eyes darting erratically between her and Sajin. The russet lion, who looked rather astounded himself, managed to utter, "Kopa, wait, we won't—"
And then Kopa bolted off, as if trying to outrun Janga's lions along with the fresh deluge of panic pounding against his every thought. His paws moved in tandem as if of their own accord, and even with the faintly nagging reminder that he did not know how to get to the Serengeti on his own, he sprinted on through the lowlands unflaggingly.
"The river once brought you to us, and now it must guide you home."
That's it. If I find my way back to the Zuberi, then all I have to do is follow it home.
* kila ("every"): The universal language spoken by all animals
