[Author's Note]
Fun fact, the Mtera Reservoir is a man-made body of water in real life. In this universe, however, it was constructed by the Mtera Pride with a little help from their friends. I'd go into more detail but I think I'll save that particular story for the anthology. Anyway, I'm excited to hear your thoughts on this one!

If I ran away, I'd never have the strength to go very far
How would they hear the beating of my heart?
Will it grow cold, the secret that I hide? Will I grow old?
How will they hear? When will they learn? How will they know?
—Madonna, "Live To Tell"

Y280 / 8TH MOON, DAY 5
3+ YEARS AGO

Lake Mtera's boggy shoreline raged in a furor of teeth, claws, and violence. The scent of lions and wild dogs melded into an aggressive stench within Tumaini's nostrils as he fought to hold what ground he had. The water lapped at his paws as he sank into the disagreeable terrain, the mud beneath him awash with crimson and shredded fur. They're trying to slow us down, he realized starkly. We have to push back or we're dead.

Sloshing in the shallows with him were the lions making up his team, at least the five who were still alive. Like him, most of them were still growing into adolescence, though the advantages their size and speed usually afforded them were becoming moot. Tumaini felt a mud pocket give way, sending him off-balance as it swallowed him by the foreleg; seeing this, the nearest wild dog instantly dove at him.

A muffled squelch was heard as Tumaini freed his leg, and he smacked a pawful of mud straight into the wild dog's face, the momentum toppling them both over into the water with a loud splash. Water filled his vision before he stumbled into an upright position, blinking his vision clear only to see Kaidi bite down on the wild dog's spine.

Two more closed in, though they appeared reluctant to wade into the shallows – likely to avoid being slowed down, or washing off the poison their claws were coated with. Kaidi took advantage of their hesitation by hurling the wild dog between her jaws at one of his compatriots, sending them rolling away. The other one lunged claws-first at Tumaini, who brought his paw down on her head. In one deft move, he pinned her down behind the face and shoulders, avoiding her flailing paws and holding her in the water until her writhing stopped.

A roar of pain prompted him to look up. A wild dog had landed a swipe on Kijana, who had used her foreleg to protect her face; she fell over, writhing and clutching her foreleg against her torso as more wild dogs swarmed her. The enemy formation loosened ever so slightly, however, and Tumaini immediately pressed the weak point in a bid to get back onto dry land. "Tighten up! Formation six, on me!"

The other adolescents hastened to comply, promptly closing ranks even as Kijana's screams filled the air. But Afua, the only remaining cub on the team, stopped and turned around. "We're leaving her?"

"Stop thinking about it, kid!" shouted Tumaini. "Move, now!" As the water gave way to grass, he chanced a quick peek over his shoulder to make sure the others were right behind him.

A wild dog snapping at Afua's tail was sent sprawling as Hamu's footpaw connected with his flank, inadvertently sending a pawful of water into the face of Taabu, one of the wild dog leaders. But the move proved calamitous when Taabu retaliated by sinking his teeth into her hind leg. Afua rushed to her aid without hesitation, only to come face-to-face with Taabu's sister Majonzi.

"Afua, no!" yelled Tumaini. He saw Majonzi's claws flashing in the sunlight, and Afua cried out as they raked across the side of his face. His head lolled limply to the side.

Hamu, who had disentangled herself from Taabu, tried to grab her opponent but he darted out of reach. Tumaini moved for Majonzi, who expediently put the rest of her team between them as she hauled Afua away. "Hold them as long as you can," she ordered the others. "Taabu, with me."

Taabu, now easily outpacing Hamu due to the injury he dealt to her leg, gave his sister a look of surprise. "But dad says we're supposed to find the tunnel," he reminded her.

"We'll need the rest of the pack for that," she said briskly. "Maybe dad can get this brat to squeal, if he lives long enough to last."

"Stop, Majonzi! Don't you dare run!" Tearing and snapping at the wild dogs to no avail, Tumaini fought to break through their numbers while Majonzi and Taabu raced off across the shoreline. There were still more than a half dozen enemies standing, and even his frenzied efforts could not break their line. All the while Afua was disappearing into the distance upon Majonzi's back.

And then Kaidi was at his side, eyes filled with cold determination as she fought to help him push the wild dogs apart. "We'll give you an opening. Be ready."

"What?" In spite of himself, surprise broke though Tumaini's countenance.

"Focus," she snapped. "You need to stay on Majonzi before she gets too far ahead."

Even in the midst of the skirmish, the bloodied forms of Kijana and two other lions laid within Tumaini's sightline, an adolescent and a cub, motionless save for the tide gently ebbing underneath them. His stomach turned at the thought of Kaidi meeting the same fate. "Kaidi, I..."

"...Have no time to discuss this. You can thank me by getting your brother back."

"Hamu, status?" he verified.

"I'm fine," informed Hamu, indicating the bleeding bite marks on her leg. "I must've gotten lucky when I splashed Taabu. Won't be chasing Majonzi like this though, so I guess I'm fighting. Make it count, Tumaini."

Tumaini nodded, jaw tightening with resolve. As Kaidi and Hamu pressed forward on either side of him, he charged through the wild dogs straight down the middle. "Where's she taking my brother, you mangy mutts?!"

•••

Y284 / 2ND MOON, DAY 1
PRESENT DAY

"The Outlands," recalled Afua quietly. "Bane was recruiting more wild dogs from there, beyond the mountains where we could not monitor him."

Nala's words were tight with heartache, her gaze affixed on the scars on his face. "So not all of those were from the gorge. Rafiki never mentioned you were poisoned when he tended to you."

"I asked him not to say anything. My brother and I are resistant to poison, just like mom was." His working eye flicked toward Kumi's body, but he instinctively turned away. "One of the reasons we were trained to fight. The other cubs were too, though that's nothing new for our pride. My predecessors believed the adults were too easy to poison because of how big and slow they were against wild dogs, and my uncle agreed with them. Right, uncle?"

Fujo nodded, looking neither defensive nor remorseful. Tamika glared at him, her voice an enraged whisper as tears spilled from her eyes. "How could you do that to your own pride? Your own family?"

"Because I exhaustively considered every alternative I could conceive of," he responded unflinchingly. "It was not a decision I made lightly, or gladly."

"Well, bully for you," she snarled. "I'm sure every cub you got killed was very understanding about it."

"Tamika, that's enough," interjected Simba, though his expression was pained as he looked back to Afua. "Go on."

He closed his eyes, still remembering the piercing agony of being awakened by the poison. "The wild dogs must have thought I was in worse shape than I was, because I was able to take off the first opportunity I had. They ended up chasing me into the gorge, and then Taabu found me..."

•••

Y280 / 8TH MOON, DAY 9
3+ YEARS AGO

Afua huddled into the crevice, doing his best not to make a sound despite the poison burning in his face. He had Taabu pressed against him, one paw closed around the wild dog's snout while the other held a claw over his throat. Marching through the open gorge outside was Bane's pack, every single one of them tenaciously working to sniff out his scent.

Once the other wild dogs were gone, Taabu managed to wriggle his snout free to let out a few breaths through his mouth. "Using my scent to cover your own," he murmured. "Real smart for a cub."

Afua's claws grazed threateningly against his throat in response. "Keep quiet. Or I'll kill you right now."

"My pack will be all over you the moment they smell fresh blood," Taabu scoffed. "Besides, it's clear you haven't got it in you."

"You don't know that," snapped Afua. "You'd have called to them if you did." Even he could hear the exhaustion in his own voice. It had been four days since he was taken, and the pangs of hunger were starting to take its toll.

He covered Taabu's mouth again as more wild dogs came into view. Majonzi stopped before the crevice and sniffed at it cautiously. "He might have been in here. Smells like Taabu already checked it though."

"Then keep moving," came Bane's unmistakable voice from outside. "I want him recaptured before his brother comes looking."

They hurried on, pawsteps soon fading away once more. Taabu made a muffled noise, and Afua loosened his grip once more. The wild dog drew several breaths before speaking. "You're too nice, princeling," he huffed. "Your brother would've made me breathe through my nose."

"I can still make you do that," Afua threatened quietly.

"Sure you can," muttered Taabu with faint amusement. "You're not cut out for this, kid. Not at your age."

"And you don't think it's messed up to be killing kids?"

"No, I think it's messed up sending kids into war. You lions are bigger than us, we're just doing what we gotta."

Afua's shoulders sagged, though he wasn't sure if it was from weariness or resignation. "I didn't want to fight. But my uncle says you'd never leave us alone otherwise."

"Why should we leave you alone?" Taabu narrowed his eyes. "Your pride still hasn't returned what it took from us."

"Liar," growled Afua. "Your pack resorted to violence so we had to as well. We didn't take Mount Tempest, it's your own fault you were forced out."

The wild dog angrily opened his mouth to respond, when the sound of a commotion outside prompted them both to look outside. Afua dragged him over to the mouth of the crevice and ventured a peek to see what was going on. The wild dogs were now flocking about fifty paces away, all of their heads turned upward. He followed their gazes and spotted the distant form standing atop the cliffs above the pack.

Relief seeped into him when he recognized the figure as Tumaini. He found me. It's going to be okay.

•••

"Stop prowling around down there, Bane," called Tumaini fiercely. "I know you have Afua."

Bane motioned to his pack, who returned to whatever they were searching for. The wild dog leader locked gazes with him, his voice coming through clearly despite the distance between them. "Tumaini. How about you come down so we can discuss this properly?"

"You're not the discussing type and neither am I," Tumaini snapped. "Stop wasting my patience or I'll put an end to your games."

"Fine, your brother's being held in the Outlands," Bane told him. "If you want him, then you and I have to take a walk."

"Not so fast. It's never that easy with you, so what do you want?"

The wild dog tilted his head. "You know what I want, boy. Your pride's full and unconditional surrender of Mount Tempest. Or is that worth more to you than your brother's life?"

"And whose lives are worth it to you?" challenged Tumaini. "Your son? Your daughter? How about your entire pack?" He stomped down hard on the edge of the cliff, whisking himself back as a rhino-sized boulder broke loose and tumbled down into the gorge.

Bane easily stepped clear as the rock smashed against the ground. His mocking laughter could be heard from below. "That's your plan, to crush my entire pack by yourself? Pitiful."

The black-maned adolescent pummelled another chunk off the gorge wall, and then another. Their resounding crashes echoed resoundingly through the divide, though none of them hit their marks either.

"Okay, boy, you've had your fun. Now it's my turn." Bane howled authoritatively, and his pack stopped what they were doing and stood at attention. "Bring him to me."

In unison, the wild dogs sprang into action, kicking up a cloud of dust as they dashed for the mouth of the gorge. Tumaini wasted no time, tipping every loose rock and boulder he could find into the chasm while redoubling his efforts to kick out the edge of the cliffs. A low, rumbling cacophony arose from between the walls, and he finally stopped as fragments of rock began breaking loose of their own accord, and in that moment the ground began to shake.

Far below him, the wild dogs had picked up their pace, though they were becoming hard to see amidst the rapidly growing dust clouds. Squinting through the haze, Tumaini's eye caught a familiar cub-shaped figure desperately running ahead of the pack. His heart seized in an instant. "Afua!"

If Afua could hear him, he did not answer. Tumaini scrambled after him, watching helplessly as the deluge consumed the wild dogs one after another. He cried out in alarm upon feeling the solid rock beneath him give way, though he managed to grab onto a protruding root; its thorns bit into his paw pads but he hung on tightly while the thunderous rockslide unleashed its fury in earnest. He squeezed his eyes shut against the rising dust around him.

After what seemed like an eternity, the commotion finally settled into an eerie silence. Gasping in the dusty air, Tumaini managed to haul himself back up onto the cliffs, not even waiting to regain his wits before sprinting for the mouth of the gorge. His ragged breathing gave way to forlorn sobs by the time he made it down, the bed of the gorge completely shrouded in mist and rubble.

Tumaini could only stare into the horrifying stillness for a moment. "Please... Afua..." He frantically scrabbled at the rocks, droplets of tears and blood splattering the dusty surfaces as their unforgiving edges scraped and cut his paws. The roar of the rockslide lingered even as his ears filled with the sound of clattering stone and his own despairing pleas.

•••

Y284 / 2ND MOON, DAY 1
PRESENT DAY

"I dug until my paws were raw, and even then I didn't stop," Tumaini recollected morosely. "But I never found him, and I never returned home to tell anyone what I did."

No one said a word. Siri's grey eyes were downcast and melancholy. Kopa was staring at him in shock, jaw trembling with a mixture of horror and revulsion. Slowly, Malka drew close, sorrowfully resting his forehead against Tumaini's. "I'm sorry, son."

"Yeah," Tumaini murmured. "Me too, dad."

"So..." Kopa seemed to have found his voice at last, forbiddingly quiet as it was. "When you said you didn't want me to be like you..."

Tumaini nodded, sensing a harsh animus beneath his friend's now inscrutable demeanour. "You can say it, Kopa. Whatever you're thinking, go ahead."

Kopa's gaze snapped to him, and a slow-burning anger seeped into his voice. "What do I think? I think I finally understand why you didn't want to be here. I know I sure don't."

When he said nothing else, Tumaini's brow tightened. "You usually have a lot more to say than that. When you're angry at me, at least."

"He's not angry at you," intoned Malka. "He's angry at me."

Kopa turned away from the others. "Coming here was a mistake. I shouldn't have listened to Kumi, or Fujo."

"She was trying to keep you safe–" began the king.

"And I definitely don't care what you have to say, Your Majesty," Kopa snapped. "I'm leaving tomorrow, as soon as Fuli's ready to go." With that, he bound off the walkway and down onto the bridges below.

Tumaini did not watch him go. "Should I talk to him this time?"

"Give him some space," suggested Siri. "This has been a lot to process."

"You seem to be taking it okay," he pointed out dully.

She gave a half-shrug. "Guess I've been around all this misery long enough. It's a relief to finally understand where it came from."

Tumaini turned back to Malka. "How about you, dad? You glad to have another awful truth to live with?"

"No, I'm glad I don't have to wonder anymore," his father replied. "Thank you, Tumaini."

•••

"So what will you tell him?" Nala asked. "When you see him again?"

"That it was the best thing that ever happened to me," grunted Afua without falter. "It got me away from all of them."

Simba, whose pained expression had not subsided the entire time, spoke softly. "That's how you still feel, even now?"

For the second time, Afua had to resist the urge to look toward Kumi's body. "Unless forgiveness can erase these scars... or restore the vision in my eye."

"Forgiveness is unconditional, Afua," reminded Sarabi gently. "Unearned, even."

He scoffed humourlessly. "'Unearned' is what put my family where they are today."

"Afua..." cautioned Nala.

"No, that was entirely warranted," admitted Fujo unflinchingly. "Are you ready to leave, nephew?"

"If you tell me where we're going to find Kopa," said Afua.

Simba and Nala directed their stares to Fujo upon hearing this. Sarabi's eyes were now fixed on him once again, and he shrugged in response. "I haven't the faintest idea. The last I saw of him, he was travelling through the Outlands with a hyena. I admit I'm surprised to discover he isn't here."

Comprehension entered Simba's expression. "The dust clouds. If they're as bad as I remember, then Kopa wouldn't have had any way to cross safely."

"And if Janga's lions dug her out, then he wouldn't have waited around," surmised Nala. "He'd be hiding somewhere, maybe even nearby."

"Afua and I will keep an eye out for him or any trace of him," Fujo informed them. "I expect you will gather your own search parties soon."

"At first light," decided Simba firmly. "They'll need to be well-rested for the journey into the mountains."

"Then perhaps we will meet again soon." Fujo turned his attention back to Afua. "Will that do?"

"Almost," Afua responded. "Just one more thing. You're going to leave as soon as we're there."

"What?" For the first time, genuine surprise flitted onto Fujo's face.

"You heard me. I don't want you pulling one of your schemes on the tribe. I'll talk to them myself."

"Afua, I wouldn't advise–"

"I wasn't asking, uncle," growled Afua. "I'm sure you'll find yourself somewhere you're needed."

The silence intensified as he held Fujo's piercing gaze for a long moment. He could almost feel his uncle reading his every twitch and heartbeat with the Sight of the Spirits, and wondered if he was imagining the apprehension beneath the scrutiny. "You know they're dangerous. How can I be certain they won't hurt you?"

Afua's eyes were flinty as he responded. "Because I carry something their traditions value deeply – the blood of the tribe."

•••

The royal quarters were vacant by the time Tumaini returned with Malka and Siri, where Fika and Bidi informed them that Fuli had woken up from her nap and decided to go stretch her legs. Not quite tired enough to settle in for the night, Tumaini had opted to help Siri explain their account of the recent events, ending with what Bunga had told them shortly before their fateful reunion.

Malka paced back and forth before them, his unsettled gaze unable to leave the floor. "I shouldn't have assumed Janga was acting alone. The situation is worse than I thought if these 'Keepers' are really backing her."

"You said mom interrogated one of them with my uncle?" prompted Tumaini.

"They were," his father affirmed, not looking particularly placated by this detail, "but until we hear back from either of them, what they learned is anyone's guess. In the meantime, we should focus on the other pressing issue – our pride members being held at Mount Tempest."

"Barely half the pride made it," noted Siri gloomily. "I thought there'd be more of us when I got here."

"Well, whoever's still alive, we're getting them out," Malka said. "The problem is, I'm almost certain there's a traitor in the pride."

She nodded. "The way we lost Mount Tempest? Yeah, I think you might be right. No leads yet?"

The king shook his head.

Tumaini sighed. Great. Another complication to add to the growing pile. Not like we're short on time or anything. "Well, who can be safely ruled out?"

Malka grimaced. "Not as many as I'd like. You, Siri, Fika and Bidi over there... and Kopa and Fuli, of course."

"That's not much of a rescue team," muttered Tumaini. "Suicide more like."

"Not entirely." A glimmer entered his father's eyes. "We have only one advantage, but it's a big advantage."

Realization dawned upon Siri's face. "Mount Tempest itself."

"Exactly!" Malka crowed. "Even if the Duara Vunja has made it inside by now, they could spend days upon days wandering nonstop and they wouldn't even be close to knowing the mountain like we do. We'll use that against them at every opportunity."

"And if we can make it to the captives, then we won't be so hopelessly outnumbered," grinned Tumaini, now starting to grow excited as well. "Way to go, dad!"

The king grinned back. "I did pick up a thing or two from your uncle. Whether this goes well or disastrously, we'll need stronger numbers than we have now."

"Then I should head to the Serengeti with Kopa first."

"Maybe. But that could take up time that we don't have."

"Well, you're gonna have to find some way to offset Kopa's profound disappointment," noted Siri. "Unless you mean to guilt him into going."

Malka shook his head, clearly not taken with the idea. "I suppose you're more than a little disappointed with me too, hearing all that for the first time."

"More than a little sounds about right," she conceded. "But I won't judge you for keeping it to yourself. I know I wouldn't want to talk about it if I were Hamu or Kaidi."

Something seemed to occur to him. "Kaidi was captured, so we can probably rule her out as well."

"I wouldn't," Tumaini advised.

Malka blinked, taken aback. "Is it because–"

"No, it's not, and that's a horrible thought, by the way," protested Tumaini. "I haven't ruled out Chumvi either, in case you haven't noticed."

"Okay," Malka said, fixing him with a skeptical look.

Tumaini glared at his father in annoyance. "Stop giving me that look."

Malka obliged by directing the look in Siri's direction instead. She rounded on Tumaini incredulously. "You and Kaidi used to be together?"

Tumaini sputtered in disbelief. "You got all that from one look?"

"Real smooth, son," muttered Malka, rolling his eyes. "Now can we get back on topic, you two?"

•••

"...So that was when Kion accepted Rani's offer to stay at the Tree of Life," explained Fuli, leaping off the bridge they stood upon onto the nearest one below. "And they've been married ever since."

Kopa did the same, surprised to find she was already moving so effortlessly. "Wow, him and Kiara both, huh? I don't think I'm old enough to feel this old yet."

The two of them had ventured into the lower levels after he vocalized a desire to get away from the pride for a while. He got the distinct impression that the cheetah rather enjoyed the solitude, given the way she had agreed with no questions asked. They soon hopped from the bridge onto the spiral walkway encircling The Hollow's interior, and Fuli landed, testing her weight with a satisfied nod. "Looks like I'm good for walking tomorrow. Running too, hopefully, but I'd rather not try that in here. Sure you're not up for leaving tonight?"

Kopa shook his head. "I can't do that to Tumaini, not if he wants to come with me. I know you just woke up, but we still have to sleep."

"Oh right, most of you still sleep at normal times of the day." Fuli blew out a long exhale. "My responsibilities have more than tripled since we settled at the Tree of Life for good. They don't call us the Night Pride for nothing."

"But you don't regret it?" asked Kopa curiously. "All the work, the long nights, being away from everyone in the Serengeti?"

"It was a bit of an adjustment," she admitted. "But yeah, I stand by it. Besides, it was easier for me cause I don't have any family in the Pride Lands."

"You might have one elsewhere, according to Siri," he pointed out, recalling what Siri had shared in the royal quarters.

A distant look crossed Fuli's expression. "Maybe. Family isn't about blood though, at least not to me. Kion and the team are my family now."

Kopa hesitated to ask the question that had been lingering in his mind since his journey had first begun. "Be honest, do you think I'm hoping for too much? Chasing after something that shouldn't matter in the end?"

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "You were ripped away from your home and couldn't remember the way back. It's not hard to understand why you want this so badly."

"But?"

"But I think you should be careful not to expect too much. This is something you need to do though, if only to find out what comes next."

"You don't think my memory's coming back, huh?" guessed Kopa, having expected this more readily than he thought he would.

"I don't know," Fuli said earnestly. "More miraculous things have happened. Maybe seeing your parents will be enough to do it."

"Yeah. Maybe." He wasn't even sure he believed it, if he was being honest.

They walked on into the depths of The Hollow in relative silence. The air was growing damp, and the stone beneath Kopa's paws felt colder with every step. The sound of cascading water splashing noisily against the liquid surface below could now be heard clearly, and it was then that Fuli finally came to a halt.

"I think I've walked enough for one night," she told him. "You'd better get some rest soon, but take all the time you need if you're not ready to go up."

Kopa nodded, watching the cheetah dart off into the glowing haze above before continuing on toward the submerged section of The Hollow. The sound of the water echoed gently around him, and he found it to be an unexpected relief from the thoughts wracking his mind.

The Mtera Pride sent cubs to fight and die for them. Is that who I want to protect from Janga, even if Tumaini asks me to? Is it... what my parents would do? Now more than ever, Kopa longed to find solace with them, for them to take the burden off his shoulders and make sense of all this somehow. Is that so much to ask? Is it really so miraculous like Fuli said?

Kopa's ear twitched upon catching a new sound from below. It was barely audible over the surrounding ambience, but as he edged closer to the waterline, he thought he could make out what sounded like someone muttering, though he couldn't be entirely certain he hadn't imagined it. Just as he was about to turn away again, another string of words drifted up to him in faint snatches.

"...Sixteen or seventeen lions now... started showing up three days ago... four days from Mount Tempest, which means..."

Cautiously but curiously, Kopa snuck down all the way to where the water allowed him to go no further. That was when he noticed the source of the glow at the bottom was not emanating from the surrounding bioluminescence, but a shimmering form just above the waterline. As it pivoted absently upon the surface, he realized that the figure was the image of an old lioness.

"Doesn't make any sense," she ruminated, frowning to herself. "Mount Tempest can't be scaled from the ground level and every entrance can be blocked off at a moment's notice. If they didn't seal themselves inside, that means the pride must have been–" She jumped when she spotted Kopa, a reaction he had frankly not been expecting. "Hang on, you're not from the Mtera Pride."

Kopa blinked. "How'd you know that?"

The strange being drifted over to him, bending in just a little too closely to examine him. "I never forget a face. Or anything that catches my eye, really, but that's beside the point."

"You're telling me," he remarked in bemusement. "I thought the others were hearing things when they said there was a ghost down here."

"'Ghost'," she repeated scornfully. "Still painfully unimaginative, I see, every last one of them. Or maybe the other spirits just prefer to ignore them entirely, which wouldn't be shocking."

"Err, right. So what are you... doing here?"

The spirit looked a bit cross at the question. "I lived here a long time ago. Everyone used to say I'm a creature of habit, and I guess they were right. And yourself? What brings you to my birthplace?"

"I needed somewhere to lay low for a little while," disclosed Kopa. "I'll be leaving tomorrow."

"Oh, good," she said. "Please tell me you're taking the pride with you."

He made a sheepish face in response. "Afraid not, sorry. They don't exactly have anywhere else to go."

"Yes, they did," the spirit sighed, "but I can only conclude that they've been driven out precisely seven days ago. Am I correct?"

Kopa took a moment to mentally count back the days it had been since he first met Siri. That was... four days ago–no, five. She said she'd been on the run for two days, so... "Yeah," he uttered in surprise. "You're... really smart."

"So I've been told my entire life," she said jadedly. "Usually followed by less kinder words, because people seem to forget I have feelings."

"I don't think I've ever met anyone who doesn't have feelings," he reflected. There was definitely something unusual about this spirit, though he couldn't quite place what it was.

"They're more common than you think, the way some people talk." She tilted her head at him, looking as if she did not quite know what else to say. "Should we... still do the customary greetings?"

"No, that's okay," he assured. "An introduction would be nice though. I'm Kopa."

"Sonara."

Kopa's eyes widened instantly. "You're Sonara the Sculptor?"

Sonara made a noise of exasperation. "Every time with this–I wish they'd stop calling me that."

"I'm starting to think you really don't like people," snickered Kopa, unable to help himself. The spirit did not look amused.

"You want to know why they call me that? Because it makes them look good. It's a point of pride they like to tout to outsiders like you."

"They spoke very highly of you, if you really must know."

"Of course they did, I'm dead," she said disdainfully. "That's how history works, kiddo."

"And what happens after you're history?" asked Kopa. "Aren't you in the wrong world right now?"

"I've felt like I was in the wrong world since I was born. No use complaining about it though."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant." Her expression was blank, but her words were moody. "I don't want to go back."

"To the spirit realm? Why?"

Sonara did not respond, huddling her face against her ghostly forelegs instead.

"Hey." Kopa splashed a pawful of water at her, and to his surprise she flinched, even as it passed through her.

She gave him a reproachful glare. "Don't do that."

"Sorry," he said ruefully. "I didn't mean to upset you."

She shook her head, and the traces of animosity vanished from her countenance. "It's okay. I... I don't like the sound of it being splashed at me."

"I get it. I have mixed feelings about the water too."

He wasn't sure what it was, but something in his words seemed to give Sonara pause. She regarded him a little more closely, and her voice became gentler, somehow more vulnerable when she spoke again. "It took me a while to admit to myself that I didn't like the spirit realm. The things that mattered to me never seemed to matter to anyone else."

Sensing that she was a bit more at ease than she had been initially, Kopa decided to pry a little. "Like what?"

"My people fell into schism after my death," she murmured sadly. "I always feared they would, but I hoped that they could see one another as I did, if I could guide them through it long enough. I... was wrong."

"Your people? The Mtera Pride?"

"Not just them, but the wild dogs as well. Agano was the wisest, most compassionate matriarch I had the honour of ruling beside. She was the one who would steady my wandering muse and teach me how to be a worthy queen to my pride." Sonara's words became brittle with distress. "After my death, she spent her last days at war with my children. And I could do nothing."

An unexpected and profound sorrow welled up within Kopa, stricken at trying to imagine what it must have been like to witness something so terrible. He lowered his head silently.

"I screamed and screamed for days," Sonara recalled quietly. "I had no tears to spill, and still I wept. And when I had no more left in me, I cast myself out of the spirit realm and came here to be alone. Which I was, most of the time, until now." She looked up when the water rippled opposite its usual direction, and noticed that Kopa was crying.

"I'm so sorry," he sniffled. "Now I see why you want them to leave."

"Yes, well, no time like the present," she replied, chastened. "Stop with the tears, alright? Please? I feel bad for telling you now."

Kopa nodded, managing to meet her gaze again with a shaky breath.

Looking relieved, Sonara said, "Let's start with you helping me untangle this bizarre chain of events. So who was it that outwitted my admittedly dimwitted pride?"

"Uh..." Taking a moment to recompose himself, he wiped his nose with another sniffle. "Someone who used to be from the same pride that I... used to... be... from. But I never met her until a few days ago, if that makes any sense."

"It does. Go on."

"Her name is Janga, and she leads a group of lions called the Duara Vunja."

"'The Broken Circle'," mused Sonara. "Interesting name."

"Err, sure. And I think they're working with those wild dogs. Their descendants, I mean."

"Great," the spirit groaned. "Years of planning and my life's work continues to be a cause of misery and violence. Did you know my pride only stopped using child soldiers a generation ago?"

"Yeah, I did," Kopa said glumly. "Something about smaller lions being harder to poison."

She snorted disdainfully. "That's a load of excrement. Adult lions have the body mass to survive all but the most severe poisonings, but that part always gets conveniently left out. It was indoctrination, plain and simple."

"So who are you really rooting for then?"

"I'm rooting for both sides to come to their senses and tear down the stupid mountain already. I'd do it myself if I could."

"Well, that's probably not going to happen, so you got a Plan B?"

Sonara pondered for a brief moment. "If the wild dogs are coming for Mount Tempest, then they must be numerous enough to be confident about their odds this time. Given the lack of child soldiers at the Mtera Pride's disposal, any estimate of the casualty ratio would be unreliable on both ends, so let's forget about that for a moment. Which leaves the other major variable, the Duara Vunja. How many of them are there?"

"More than forty, apparently," Kopa informed her. "I killed about ten of them in a rockslide though."

"Between thirty and forty lions." Her translucent eyes flitted about calculatingly. "Do you know how many of the Mtera Pride were killed in the initial attack?"

"Seven. Almost definitely more by now."

"Which optimistically puts them at just under thirty lions, assuming the missing half is alive." She gasped unexpectedly, looking aghast. "Someone has betrayed the pride."

Kopa's brow furrowed with confusion. "I'm very lost all of a sudden."

"I wasn't talking to you." Sonara brusquely held up a paw, frowning to herself once more. "If the lions that made it here didn't attempt to re-enter Mount Tempest, then the missing half of the pride did not have time to seal themselves inside. Which means they were all out on the plateau when they were attacked. They'd never evacuate the mountain in full unless there was a crisis, and the Duara Vunja were either impossibly lucky or they knew precisely when the evacuation would occur. I believe it's the latter."

"You're probably right," agreed Kopa, though in truth he was still struggling to keep up.

"I'm not done. The problem at the heart of all this is that there is no simple solution. One side will have to eradicate the other in order for the conflict to end."

The callousness with which she spoke the words was a bit unsettling, though Kopa did not need to ask why. "I thought you were an architect, not a strategist."

Sonara gave him a beady look. "At my age, you start seeing the same patterns in everything we create, whether it's a mountain fortress or the blight of war. Whoever holds Mount Tempest will find themselves faced with relentless retribution. Not every peace is won with understanding."

"Well, I've picked a side even if you won't," he said firmly. "I'm going to help your pride take back Mount Tempest. If for no other reason than to give them a chance to be better."

"If you think they'll succeed," responded Sonara indifferently. "I'm not so confident, but go right ahead."

"You really don't care what happens to them? Any of them?" He searched her ethereal form for any sign of misgiving but saw only burnt-out resignation.

"Like I said, I have no more left in me. I haven't for a long time, so you can get my pride back to Mount Tempest or you can get them all killed. I'll have my peace again either way."

Kopa sighed as he turned to leave. He had no idea how late into the night it was, only that he could now feel the fatigue setting into his bones. "You remind me of a friend I had as a cub. Afua."

"My great-grandson," Sonara said shortly, "give or take about thirty generations. I stopped counting."

"He's really moody all the time as well, and he's brainy like you," he recalled. "And like you, he could never fool me into believing he didn't care about the people that hurt him."

She scowled. "Caring is agony, and I've had enough in both the previous life and this one. Now don't tell anyone about me, okay? I wouldn't mind another conversation the next time you visit, as long as you come alone."

A sad smile found its way onto Kopa's face. She's like Afua in one other way too – lonely and too tired to believe there's anyone who can change that. Before he walked away, he murmured, "Be well, Sonara."

•••

With the sunrise breaking over the Outlands, Janga began walking herself more quickly around the outside of the abandoned lair, testing the limits of her still-recovering stamina. Come on, faster. We're not staying here much longer, and there's no way I'm letting the others carry me back to Mount Tempest. Her body was plastered with leaves and healing herbs, but so far her bindings held fast.

Kivuli hovered within two paces of Janga at all times, monitoring her movements vigilantly. "You can tell me if there's any pain, you know."

"I'm tired of lying down all night," Janga responded. "My paws aren't giving me any trouble so far."

"Okay, but don't overexert yourself," said the grey-furred lioness dubiously. "And pay attention for anything that feels out of the ordinary."

Janga gave her friend a wry look. "You sound more worried about me than I am, Kivuli."

"Only because you don't worry about yourself enough," scowled Kivuli.

"I'd rather you focus on our other problem right now." She indicated Shabaha, who was speaking with Jeraha off in the distance. "What's the Lion Guard been up to all night?"

"Nothing," Kivuli divulged. "I can't figure out what they want with us."

"They might not want anything," Janga pondered quietly. "Could be Shabaha just wanted to see her son again."

"I'll keep my eyes on them all the same. You get some more rest."

Janga nodded before heading back into the lair alone. Sajin and Taya were guarding the entrance from the inside, while the others slept in turns waiting to relieve the patrol outside. As she padded down the tunnel leading to the den at the very back, she couldn't help but remember the first time she and Mheetu had found the Keepers here. A familiar ripple of anger coursed through her. This wasn't how we were supposed to do it, Mheetu. You should've been here with me.

So preoccupied was Janga that she didn't immediately see that someone else was in the den with her. Sitting before the stone wall opposite her was Fujo, his frazzled appearance suggesting that he had travelled all through the night. The first thing she noticed about him was that he seemed different somehow – compromised, unbalanced even. When he spoke, however, both his voice and his demeanour were calm and measured.

"We need to talk."