‹•›
Now, remember when I told you that's the last you'll see of me?
Remember when I broke you down to tears?
I know I took the path that you would never want for me.
I gave you hell through all the years.
—Imagine Dragons, "I Bet My Life"

Surprised as she was at Fujo's abrupt appearance, Janga instinctively knew he wouldn't be here if he didn't need to be. She eased into a sitting position before him, matching his upright posture in spite of her limited reserves of energy.

Like her, Fujo looked as if he hadn't slept more than a few winks in the last while. His unkempt black mane cast a shadow over his eyes and his clipped words held none of the self-assured smugness she was used to hearing come out of his mouth. "Simba is coming for you, though I suppose you knew that given the Lion Guard's presence outside. Quite the predicament you've landed yourself in."

"If you're here to bargain, then let's hear it," snapped Janga. "What do you want in exchange for whatever solution you're about to offer me?"

"The same thing I asked of you when we made our agreement," he responded. "You could have killed Malka at Mount Tempest and spared yourself a lot of trouble. Now he will seek the aid of the Serengeti Pride, and I'm certain Simba will answer in full."

Janga fixed him with a scrutinizing look. "You want Malka dead, and yet you can't bring yourself to kill him. Why is that?"

"Oh, I could easily bring myself to do it. But the difference between you and me is that I know it's not enough to simply be right. You want to reshape the world but you act with all the grace of a wounded elephant. Your truths go unheard to those you threaten and squabble with."

"And you think they'll change if I ask them to? I'm supposed to take it on faith that people can be trusted to make hard decisions?"

"Of course not," Fujo responded coolly. "That's why you and I take that choice from them. You know there's no forgiveness waiting for us at the end of our paths, not for either of us. This is that important – I wouldn't be here otherwise."

"Is that also why you saved me in the gorge?" Janga demanded, shifting a little as she recalled Jeraha's account of the rockslide. "To make sure I kill Malka?"

"Among other reasons. I know you're going after Prince Kopa."

Not even bothering to ask how he knew about Kopa or the confrontation in the gorge, Janga challenged, "Is that a problem?"

"Not for me, but for you. He hit his head as a cub – lost most of his memory, but it did a lot more damage than that. You may find him... unpredictable."

"Like you?"

Fujo actually chuckled darkly at this. "To fool the deductive mind is easy, but nonetheless I can be quite decipherable to the discerning eye. Something I've discovered only recently."

"Is that why I suspect you're trying to protect him right now?"

The smile instantly turned cold. "I am doing no such thing. Your priorities are to link up with the rest of the Duara Vunja and prepare for confrontation against Simba. I will ensure my pride stays out of your way."

"And what happens once Malka is dead?" questioned Janga. "You know how this works – your nephew becomes the next king, not you."

"I don't need to be king," Fujo replied icily. "My best work tends to go unobserved. In any case, you always have the option of waiting until the Keepers arrive. I'm sure they will accomplish what you could not."

Janga glared at him, already knowing she was taking the bait but seeing no suitable alternative. I can't believe I have to rely on him again. She was tempted to put an end to his schemes right now, injuries or no, but her mouth tightened as years of self-discipline bid her wait. Fujo's slight smirk lingered, as if he could tell exactly what she was feeling.

•••

Even as daybreak chased the shadows from the Outlands, Jeraha's vigilant eyes swept the perimeter. Barren outcrops jutted from the inhospitable terrain in every direction, and what little shade they provided from the morning sun gave their surroundings a foreboding atmosphere. There had been no sign of trouble all night, but nonetheless he did not let his guard down for a moment.

"You've really grown," remarked Shabaha from where she sat beside him. "More than I could have hoped. You're bigger than Imara now."

In spite of himself, Jeraha's gaze shifted to Imara's brawny form on the far side of the encampment. "Is that who that was? I didn't even recognize her."

Shabaha smiled distantly. "She was your favourite lion to wrestle with, mostly because she never let you win. You always did like a challenge."

"My biggest challenge was you," grunted Jeraha, already tired of her latest attempt to make conversation. Her smile slipped at his hard tone. "I could never figure out who you were loyal to or what you believed – still can't, really."

"I did what I did for your sake," she said staunchly. "I'm not proud of it, and I wouldn't have done it knowing what I know now."

"But that wasn't the last time your loyalties shifted, was it? You chose Simba the first chance you got, as if you hadn't spent years cozying up to Scar."

"Jeraha, Scar murdered Mufasa to become king–"

"And that came as a shock to you?" growled Jeraha. "You didn't think anything of it when he tried to have Janga killed?"

A remote look entered Shabaha's eyes as her mind returned to the most sleepless night of her life. "Did he? I never saw him more distraught in all the time I've known him. It was the kind of agony that couldn't be faked, the kind you wouldn't understand unless you knew how it felt to lose your child. He grew so desperate to find Janga that he had Zira sent off with whoever else he trusted to bring her back."

He sneered at this. "That's a nice story, but I can think of a more likely reason he picked Zira. And speaking of Zira, I suppose she should have seen it coming when you sided with Simba over her. Wouldn't have been the first time, would it?"

"I know I made a lot of mistakes," admitted Shabaha plainly. "I know I let you down, and I wouldn't be in a hurry to trust me either. But what you did to that pride in the mountains – you, Janga, and Kivuli – there's no justifying that."

Tired of gazing toward the landmarks he had been staring at all night, Jeraha finally turned to look at her directly. "They say you killed dad. Is that true?"

"Your father chose his side," she snarled. "He heard Scar's confession, same as the rest of us, and it changed nothing for him. The day you left was the day I realized I should have never followed his example."

"Then don't be any more of a hypocrite than you already are." The words came forth easily, despite the fact that Jeraha had spent very little time dwelling on his mother. "You still protect the power Scar coveted, uphold the laws that put him on the throne. Do you really think he'll be the last?"

"No," she said unflinchingly. "But I am doing all I can to ensure the hard lessons have not been forgotten. I'm learning to have faith in others to do the same."

"Then you aren't doing enough."

"And this is 'doing enough'? What threat did the mountain pride pose to you?"

"Some threats aren't actively trying to kill you," drawled Jeraha. "Take Scar, for instance..."

"Enough," Shabaha growled, now turning to him in full. "You've made your point, and now I'm going to make mine. You didn't have to leave the Pride Lands with Janga, you chose to. I might not have done everything right, but you never went hungry and you never had to sleep out in the cold, and that was the best I could manage at the time. But it wasn't enough that I had to do the bidding of someone I detested – oh no, I was also putting up with all the dirty looks and snide remarks. I didn't care what the others thought, I only cared about you. And by the time you were a year old, you were talking to me the same way they did. It made you feel righteous, to resent me for not standing up to Scar like Sarabi."

"It did," he affirmed haughtily, not looking the tiniest bit stung by the accusation. "So now I'm going to do what you should've done, it'd be in your best interest to change your allegiances before that happens."

Shabaha made a noise of disdain. "You should re-examine your allegiances before you judge mine, Jeraha. Simba would never inflict the kind of suffering you and Janga have caused."

Jeraha could hear a note of smug triumph in his own voice as he spoke. "You're right, he causes suffering by exiling cubs into the Outlands."

"Staying in the Outlands was Zira's choice, Simba never said–"

"Stop making excuses for him!" Jeraha roared. "How long was he content to let you all stay there, cubs and all, even after he learned what you were surviving on? If Simba's as principled as you say, then why was he playing chicken with Zira when she refused to budge?"

Her mouth shut in exasperation. At that moment, he wondered if she had ever reflected on the same question during her exile.

Regardless, Jeraha gave a scornful scoff, as if years of repressed bitterness were pouring out of him of their own accord. "And they call you the Lion Guard's bravest. Most deluded, more like."

Shabaha's gaze dropped. "I failed you, son, and that's never been clearer to me than right now," she murmured. "I wasn't a good role model or someone you could look up to. I wasn't... brave, you're right about that. But in your absence I found courage, and that alone gave me the resolve to put your father down like the animal he was. That alone sustained me through a lot of hard days in the Outlands... and Jeraha, this has been the hardest day of my life. Because I must now protect the Pride Lands from you. I am as certain of my place as you are of yours, and that means we must be enemies."

Jeraha felt an unexpected flutter of grudging admiration at the grit in her words, even as he gave her a bitter look. "Glad we understand each other, mom."

Out of the corner of his vision, he spotted a flustered Kivuli dashing toward him, head whirling this way and that. "Where'd she go?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Could you be more specific?"

"The fast one," she said impatiently. "I had eyes on her just a moment ago."

The bottom dropped out of Jeraha's stomach. That slippery little... He immediately joined her in scanning every direction for any sign of where Kasi had gone, though he already had a good guess as he confirmed that there were only three Lion Guard members present. His furious gaze settled on Shabaha. "You sent her to the Pride Lands?"

Shabaha snickered, any trace of remorse now gone. "Of course I did. Did you think the Guard and I were keeping you company for the fun of it?"

Kivuli nudged him urgently. "We need to clear out. Now."

Jeraha turned away from his mother, fighting back his seething rage as he forced himself to focus on the situation they were faced with. "I'll find Janga. Rally the others and make sure the Lion Guard doesn't run off."

Shabaha's unruly, derisive laughter followed him as he rushed for the hideout entrance. "We're not trapped here with you, son," she cackled in the wake of his retreating form. "You're trapped here with us."

Dashing through the shafts of sunlight illuminating the perforated common area, Jeraha felt the tiniest shred of relief at seeing that the others had woken up and vacated the lair. He sprinted for the tunnel leading to the den on the far end of the hideout, nose twitching as he caught a whiff of an irritatingly familiar scent.

Jeraha halted in his tracks before he even cleared the tunnel proper, having spotted none other than Fujo in the den with Janga. They turned their attention to him as he snarled, "What's he doing here?"

"Leaving," replied Janga curtly. "What's happening outside, Jeraha?"

He grimaced. "The Lion Guard's runner is gone. Gave Kivuli the slip."

She bolted to her paws immediately. "Then we're leaving too. Gather the others."

"She's already on it," Jeraha informed her. "The Lion Guard's prepared to fight if it keeps us here until Simba arrives."

"The vine tightens," remarked Fujo, rising as well. "Best think fast, Janga." Without another word, he leapt gracefully onto one of the columns that formed the opposite wall, then another. He disappeared over the top within moments.

Janga shook her head in bewilderment. "It's three of them against twelve of us. They can't be serious."

"I'm not taking any chances," said Jeraha firmly, still rattled by how easily Shabaha had outwitted him. "You get out of here, you'll need the head start. Kivuli and I will keep them busy." He saw her balk at the suggestion, though he was hardly surprised. "You'll slow us down if you stay with us, if that makes it easy for you."

At this, Janga relented with a stiff nod. "You're right. Thanks, Jeraha."

"Don't mention it. You in any shape to get up there?"

She eyed the column stacks above them, assessing their height. "Could use a little help if you don't mind."

Jeraha hurried into the den so that he was standing directly next to the lowest column. He faced her and adopted a crouching stance. "Ready."

Janga broke into a dash and leaped toward him. He felt her paws make contact with his back and pushed upward, launching her smoothly into the air. He turned to see her land on the first column with a slight stumble.

"I don't smell any fresh blood," said Jeraha, sniffing at the air. "No reopened wounds?"

"None," she affirmed.

"Good, because you'll have to do the rest yourself. It's gonna hurt."

"It always does." Janga peered up at the spot where Fujo had climbed up and out of the lair. "Once you get out of here, track down Fujo. Find out what he's up to."

Jeraha blinked. "I thought you wanted me to find Kopa."

"I do," she clarified. "Fujo was trying to talk me out of going after Kopa. I suspect he will lead you right to him. Leave the stragglers to Kivuli and the others."

"Works for me. Going alone makes it less likely he'll see me coming."

Janga scoffed. "He does have a sixth sense about him, doesn't he? If you catch Fujo talking to any Pridelanders... kill them both. But bring Kopa to me alive."

Jeraha grinned. I've been itching to put that swindler in his place for too long. He turned and raced out of the den without another word.

•••

Wasting no time, Janga faced the column before her and braced herself on her hind legs, mouth tightening as her wounds flared in warning. She propelled herself up at the stone pillar, practically slamming herself against the corner and clawing for purchase. With a strained groan, she hauled herself upward with all her might, kicking and scrabbling with her hind legs even as several of her wounds burst open.

Crimson seeped out from under the bindings, dripping and smearing against the stone surface as Janga dragged herself away from the edge. She caught the slightest hint of a sob in her pained gasps. Get up. No way am I going to throw myself at Simba's mercy. Clenching her teeth, she staggered upright and eyed the next column she was to reach. It was an even higher jump than the one she had just made.

Janga spat out a wad of blood. Don't think about how much it's going to hurt. Just take the pain as it comes, like you've always done. Shifting onto her hind legs again, she leaped upward.

•••

The stillness of the morning brought Kopa some small measure of solace after a fitful night of sleep. Plagued by dreams of wild dogs dragging their broken, misshapen forms out from beneath the rockslide in the gorge, they morphed one by one into the form of Janga, covered in blood and eyes aflame with insatiable wrath. The image had startled him awake, and deciding against going back to sleep, he had quietly made his way out of The Hollow and watched the sunrise over the misty mountains.

It had seemed so simple when he first learned of Siri's predicament a few days ago. Kopa had singularly fixated on the threat posed by Janga and not once did he consider the full ramifications of her motives. And in spite of what he had said to Sonara the previous night, Kopa couldn't help but question if he really could stand against the Mtera Pride's enemies in good conscience.

His eye caught movement from down the mountainside. Out of the thinning fog appeared a half dozen silhouettes that he recognized as lions, and even at a distance he was able to make out the vibrant colours painted upon their pelts. What's the Nami tribe doing here?

Kopa hastily ran back to the entrance of The Hollow and grabbed one of the stones scattered around the mouth of the tunnel, tapping the wall twice with it to alert whoever was standing guard on the other end. He listened to it echo down the corridor for a heartbeat before three taps sounded in response, indicating that backup was on the way. Not daring to make another sound, he pressed himself behind the tall rocky outcrop that concealed the entrance, trying to breathe quietly through his mouth.

The sound of claws scraping against stone drew near from the other side of the outcrop. An unfamiliar voice was heard a moment later, laden with the accent of traditional lionspeak. "We know you're behind there. Come out, we're not here to fight."

Slowly, Kopa peeked out to see the lioness warriors forming a line as they finished their ascent one after another. Their eyes held fast on him as the old lioness at the centre stepped forward. Her colours were more elaborate than the others', a weaving pattern of strikingly sharp reds and blacks. "Tell your king that Chief Safina of the Nami tribe will speak with him."

Just then, the line of warriors was joined by another lion, a slightly winded black-maned male. "He's not from this pride, chief," he huffed. "He's from mine."

Kopa froze as his gaze found the lion's clouded eye, the faded scars running along his face and neck. "Afua?" he breathed.

Afua's single amber eye met his. "Hey, pal. Took me a moment to recognize you. Where've you been?"

"I... I've been..." Unable to contain himself any longer, Kopa rushed forward and embraced his cubhood friend in a frantic nuzzle.

Afua jerked in surprise, but did not withdraw. A shaky, elated laugh burst forth from Kopa, and for the first time since leaving the Maelewano Forest, he felt a warmth grow within him, as if he was a little more whole again.

Finally managing to find his words, Kopa stammered, "How do I... this is real, right? I'm not just dreaming? Ow!" He reared back upon receiving a light punch in the ribs.

Afua grinned. "Real enough for you? What are you doing here anyway?"

"Long story." Kopa peered over at Safina and the other warriors, who were waiting patiently in silence. "What about them?"

The grin vanished, promptly replaced by a shadowy look that crossed Afua's eye. But before he could answer, the echoing pawsteps coming from behind Kopa redirected his gaze to the entrance of The Hollow. Out of the darkness appeared Malka, quickly followed by Tumaini, Siri, and four other lions.

The king's attention was immediately drawn to Safina, who had been staring at him expectantly from the moment he stepped outside. "What's this about, chief? I haven't–"

Siri nudged him silently. Malka stopped talking and followed her gaze, his eyes riveted and unblinking as he caught sight of Afua, who was now staring at the ground with his previous exuberance replaced by brooding silence.

Tumaini staggered forward, his expression one of faint horror as he took in his brother's marred features. "Afua, I... what have I..."

"Yeah, take a close look," muttered Afua, still refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "This is what it took for me to start a new life. I'd say it was a good trade."

"I'm sorry," whispered Tumaini, his voice breaking toward the end. He stopped a few paces away, as if unable to allow himself to stand any closer.

"I know you are," Afua said quietly. "But I didn't come back to hear that, Tumaini."

"Then why are you here?" murmured Malka, speaking at last. His voice was brittle and there was a slight but noticeable tremor in his legs.

Afua's gaze shifted to his father, now looking him straight in the eye. "I didn't want to forgive you – either of you – and it was all I could think about the entire way here. And then as soon as I saw Kopa, I just... knew I was too tired of being angry. I have been for a long time." His shoulders slumped, and he glanced toward Kopa, who offered him an encouraging smile. "Honestly, I still don't know what to do about it. But I'd like to try and figure it out."

Tears welled up in Malka's eyes, and at last he rushed forward to embrace his younger son, followed by a slowly plodding Tumaini. Kopa averted his gaze sheepishly toward Safina. "Sorry this is taking a while."

"Shh," she admonished quietly. "Blood is a sacred bond that must be cherished. Be respectful."

"I could have never hoped for this," wept Malka. "I don't deserve it, I know I don't. But I'm so thankful you both came back."

"Dad, I..." Afua withdrew, a tightness now entering his expression. "I can't... this is... I..."

The king looked chastened. "What? What is it? Did I say something wrong, what–"

Afua shook his head frantically. "No, it–it's mom. Simba and Nala found her in the gorge." He sounded as if the words were constricting him.

Kopa froze, as did Tumaini and Malka. Siri exchanged stricken looks with the others, but no one spoke as a dismal atmosphere fell over the mountainside.

After a long stretch of silence, Safina finally spoke up. "Two of my warriors are watching over Kumi at the base of the mountain. She is to receive the warrior's last rites at sundown."

The words rang in Kopa's ears as if from a great distance away. He had been unable to admit it, but the news did not come so much as a surprise as it confirmed what he already suspected. And yet the sensation of his lingering hopes being dashed away was devastating. She's really gone. She waited for the Duara Vunja like she said she would.

Afua closed his eyes and turned away. Malka's jowls trembled, once again looking as if he could not trust himself to speak. A tormented yell ripped out from Tumaini and split the air, ringing furiously into the mountains. And all Kopa could do was stand rooted where he was, unable to console his friend amidst the guilt now threatening to suffocate him.

•••

Vitani watched raptly as an array of colours swirled around Nia in the Zuberi River, momentarily fascinated by the patterns shimmering beneath the midday sun before scattering away into the current. The two of them were deep in the heart of the mountains, having spent the last three days trying to get a fix on Kopa's whereabouts. The search had turned up nothing so far, and since they started Nia had been periodically washing the paint from her pelt, a process that evidently took several days.

Now with the last of her tribal colours removed, Nia was shaking the water out of her ears when she noticed Vitani staring. She smirked. "Your interest is flattering, outsider, but you're a little young for me."

"Ha ha," responded Vitani dryly. "Stop calling me that, we're not in your territory anymore."

Still smirking, Nia waded out of the river and shook herself vigorously. "Habit. It's what I call every stranger I've met."

Vitani stood up as a few droplets of water flew her way. "Well, I've had some bad experiences with that word, so I'd rather we stick to names."

"Sure." Having sufficiently dried herself by rolling in the grass a few times, Nia got up to continue leading them along the Zuberi River. "So, Vitani. What was it you were thinking about?"

Despite the short period of time they had known each other, Vitani realized how bizarre it was to see the other lioness in her natural colours. Turning back to her previous thoughts, she responded, "Something you said back at your camp. About how Kopa looked like your father."

"A foolish lapse of judgement on my part," admitted Nia.

"Maybe not. Can you tell me about him?"

Nia fell silent.

"Come on, don't make this more awkward than it already is," Vitani insisted. "I don't like asking personal questions without a reason, and not even then."

The older lioness relented with a sigh. "He was kind and attentive, at least when he was there. He would only visit occasionally, and more than once did he invite me to leave the tribe and join him on his travels. He was understanding about it every time I declined." Her voice grew wistful. "Eventually he stopped coming back, and I'm still not sure why. But I still think about him from time to time – it's hard not to when I carry his name."

"You do?" asked Vitani curiously.

Nia nodded. "My mother named me after him. She was very fond of him, or so the other warriors tell me. To everyone else, he was the charming rogue with the rugged good looks. To her... he was just Ni."

"Ni?" Vitani raised an eyebrow. "I've heard that name before."

"That does not surprise me," replied Nia with a shrug. "He courted the affections of many a lioness during his prime. He even ventured to your Serengeti when Scar was king, though he never said why."

"My guess is Sarafina. She was the one who mentioned him."

Nia's expression darkened in an instant. "My people do not speak of Sarafina. The one who shamelessly abandoned us at the worst possible time."

Vitani blinked in disbelief. "Sarafina is from your tribe?"

"Not just from our tribe, she was supposed to be chief," Nia divulged. "Instead the responsibility was thrust upon her younger sister who hadn't even reached adulthood. Safina still hasn't forgiven her to this day."

"And it didn't occur to you people that someone older should have taken charge?"

"Our traditions are of the highest importance to us, Vitani," said Nia sternly. "Upholding them has kept our tribe from straying off their path."

Vitani scoffed. "Your traditions don't take kindly to letting people choose their own path?"

"Not when so many in this world value self-gain above all else. These invaders you're dealing with, for instance, are heedless, self-destructive, and far too assured of themselves to have any real perspective. They blindly tear down the old ways and give no thought to the wisdom that is lost with it. Allowing them to continue unobstructed will create problems for all of us, whether we confront it or not."

"Sounds like you and Safina don't agree on this neutrality thing," remarked Vitani.

Nia faltered, looking as if she hadn't meant to share this particular detail. "I... do not. But she is my chief, and I shouldn't presume to know better than her."

"But your instincts were right about Kopa. If I'm reading this family tree right, and I'm pretty sure I am, that makes him Sarafina's grandson – and Ni's."

"Then we are kin, through blood and the tribe," murmured Nia, a spark of wonder now gleaming behind her eyes. She gave Vitani a searching look. "So who is Kopa to you? Why do you search for him?"

"He's... a friend." Not for the first time, Vitani wished she was better with her words. "A close friend I lost a long time ago."

"And why did you think you were meant to find him on your own? Is there no one else in your pride who cares for him?"

"There is, but..." Vitani hoped her rare display of sincerity was not wasted on Nia, who couldn't know just how much she hated talking about these things. "My mother is the reason he's been missing all this time. She tried to kill him when we were cubs."

"So now you feel it's your penance to suffer," surmised Nia. "Vitani, do you know what happens to those who fail to atone for their mistakes in life?"

Already seeing what she was getting at, Vitani made an impatient noise. "They can't rest until it's made right or something, I know, a monkey told me when I became the leader of the Lion Guard. But Kopa's still out there, and I'm not counting on Zira growing a conscience anytime soon – if she's even around. Most likely she's been vanquished like Scar."

The older lioness cocked her head. "My tribe has heard the stories about Scar. You say your mother was as vile as he was?"

"Every bit if not more," responded Vitani without hesitation. "Hate doesn't begin to describe how I feel about her."

"And you think Kopa will change that?"

"I don't know. I can't see how I'd ever feel differently."

Nia smiled knowingly. "'Macho huona mpaka upeo wa macho, lakini moyo hauna kikomo,'" Nia recited. "It's an old tribal saying that means 'The eyes see as far as the horizon, but the heart has no bounds.'"

Vitani scowled. "Pretty words, but it sounds like meaningless fluff to me."

"If you do find meaning in those words one day, then you will likely discover far more surprising things about yourself," said Nia, seemingly unbothered by Vitani's attitude.

"Yeah, whatever you say." The two of them came to a stop upon catching sight of a muddy patch of riverbank ahead. Or more notably, the canine tracks by the edge of the water that numbered more than Vitani could count.

Nia bent down to sniff the tracks carefully. "Wild dogs. Very unusual for there to be so many here."

"They may have been displaced by the invaders," Vitani speculated.

"Or perhaps they are the invaders," corrected the older lioness. "Many wild dogs have maintained a long-standing feud with the Mtera Pride, who were recently driven out by the Duara Vunja."

Vitani's eyes followed the direction of the pawprints. "We'd better check it out. These tracks are pointing right into your territory."

"And what about Kopa?" asked Nia, sounding slightly surprised.

"We still have no leads on him," Vitani said dully. "Besides, I made an oath to keep your tribe safe. If I don't, I'll have to atone for that in death, remember?"

A hint of affinity flickered into Nia's eyes as she straightened. "It's rare that I meet someone outside the tribe who honours their word. Very well, let's keep moving."

•••

Upon the fallen tree where Sarabi sat overlooking the Zuberi River, she spotted Kasi's lanky figure darting out from the crags that made up the Outlands' northern border. Sarabi immediately got up and hurried across the makeshift bridge to the other side of the river.

"We found them," gasped Kasi before even coming to a proper stop. "They've taken refuge at Zira's old den, but they would've noticed I've left by now."

Sarabi straightened. "Then we must be quick."

"We'll need backup. I can send word to the king."

"Catch your breath," Sarabi advised, guessing that Kasi hadn't slowed down the entire way back. "He and Nala left the Pride Lands with two teams this morning. We don't have time to go all the way to Pride Rock either. Take me now."

Kasi's brow furrowed in concern. "I counted twelve of them, milady, and we're only five if we include you. We can't protect you and stay ahead of them at the same time."

"You won't have to, Kasi. Lead the way."

With only the slightest hesitation, the younger lioness pointed herself away from the river. "Right. Holler if you need me to slow down."

The two of them sprinted into the crags together, with Kasi matching her pace with Sarabi's as she guided them into the Outlands. Having never been to Zira's den even when the Keepers used it as a hideout, Sarabi feverishly hoped that it was not too far. "The rest of your team is still there?"

"Yeah, they were keeping as many eyes off me as they could," Kasi replied. "Just to be clear, you do know we're most likely running straight into a fight?"

"I'm aware," the old lioness said briskly. "You let me worry about that."

"If I may, milady, where have the king and queen gone off to?"

Sarabi mulled over their conversation with Fujo the previous night. I don't know how much time is left before the Keepers come for us. This could all be futile if they're as numerous as he claims, but we can't just give up on the Pride Lands – or on Kopa. "The other kingdoms are in trouble. And we will be as well if we don't rally with them soon."

"I see. But was it really a good idea for them both to leave?"

"Probably not," admitted Sarabi, her thoughts now turning to Janga. "But some things we have to do ourselves."

•••

Though they were outnumbered nearly four to one, Shabaha was pleased to see the rest of her team holding fast against the weary and frustrated Duara Vunja. Imara and Jeraha were exchanging vicious blows on the far side of the perimeter while the others wisely gave them a wide berth. Not far from them, Tazama was giving the runaround to no fewer than nine lions by using the unfriendly terrain to her advantage, hopping and weaving about the nearby outcrops as they tried without success to divide her attention and encircle her.

Shabaha took the opportunity to make a break for the lair, deciding that capturing Janga would effectively force the Duara Vunja into a standstill. She hadn't taken more than a few steps before the entrance was obstructed by two lions, both of whom she recognized. "Sajin. Taya."

Sajin narrowed his eyes as she came to a stop, almost nose-to-nose with him. "Shabaha."

"Long time no see. Now get out of the way."

"Not happening, Shabaha," growled Taya.

Shabaha's claws flew out in the blink of an eye and pierced the side of Taya's neck; the sandy-furred lioness crumpled, spasming and choking as Shabaha withdrew just as swiftly. Sajin lunged forward with an enraged roar, colliding with her and sending them rolling away from the lair.

The two of them grappled ferociously on the rough ground, with Sajin wresting her into a prone position as he struggled to pin her down. She managed to wallop him across the face, loosening his grip and giving her the opportunity to roll on top of him instead. One of her paws clamped down on his throat, and as he grabbed her foreleg to prise her off him, she raised her other paw to strike, blood-slicked claws flashing in the sunlight.

Out of the corner of her vision appeared an ash-coloured blur, and Shabaha felt teeth sink into her shoulder before she could react. She dislodged the young lion by pushing against him, causing him to lose his balance and topple backward; however, the movement gave Sajin the opportunity to free himself and kick out her footpaws, sending her sprawling onto her front.

Tazama joined the fray just then, placing herself between them while Shabaha leapt up again. In a heartbeat, the Duara Vunja had them surrounded, forcing Shabaha and Tazama to stand back-to-back against each other. Murder gleamed in Kivuli's eyes. "For a stooge, you never could seem to make up your mind, Shabaha. Was there anyone you followed that you didn't betray at one point?"

Shabaha only bared her teeth in response. She and Tazama braced themselves as the silver-eyed lioness motioned for the others to close ranks.

"Stop!"

Every head turned in the direction of the voice, which turned out to be Jasiri's as she stepped into view atop the crags with more than a score of hyenas behind her. Even Imara and Jeraha released each other upon catching sight of the pack's numbers.

"Stay where you are, all of you," ordered Jasiri.

To Shabaha's surprise, Kivuli turned and bolted for the other end of the perimeter. Jeraha and the rest of the Duara Vunja were quick to follow, breaking off from the Lion Guard and speeding into the Outlands without falter.

"After them!" Jasiri barked. The hyenas snapped into action, though she did not join them in pursuing the enemy lions as they dashed away into the rocks. As Imara hurried over and Tazama sprinted for the lair, Jasiri gave each of them a perplexed look. "What are you doing here, Lion Guard? Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Shabaha straightened, clenching her jaw from the sharp pain in her shoulder. "No offence, but you're not exactly easy to find, Jasiri. And this called for discretion."

Jasiri peered around dubiously. "Yes, you were obviously very discreet."

"We were supposed to hold them here," Imara told her. "Which we did until you chased them off."

"You were about to be killed," the overseer snapped. "Who were you waiting on anyway?"

"Us, I believe," came Sarabi's voice from the same direction Jasiri had just arrived from. The old lioness appeared a moment later with Kasi at her side. "But it wouldn't have sufficed. So thank you, Jasiri, for your timely intervention."

"No problem," replied Jasiri briskly. "Just remember to ask the next time you're about to operate in my territory."

Sarabi gave a rueful bow of the head. "I'll make sure we do. My apologies."

The overseer responded with a curt nod before returning her attention to the Lion Guard. Tazama reemerged from the den as she rejoined them, shaking her head. "She's not in there."

"Janga?" asked Sarabi. Tazama nodded grimly.

Imara groaned in vexation. "I knew the others ran off too quickly. Guess we weren't the only ones who were stalling."

"Queen Mother?" prompted Jasiri. "Should I be concerned about these lions as well?"

The old lioness contemplated this for a moment. "You should be prepared at the very least. And stay in frequent contact with Kiara. The way things are going, she'll likely need your help sooner rather than later."

"Will do. I'll be in touch." The overseer rushed off after her hyenas, wasting no time on further discussion.

"I spotted scuff marks on the columns," Tazama added. "Caught a faint whiff of blood as well. She must have climbed her way out."

Sarabi's ears perked up. "Show me."

As Shabaha followed Tazama inside the lair with Sarabi and the others, she took a moment to assess the state her team was in. Imara bore the most injuries between them, her pelt torn and clumped with blood with countless gashes on her forelegs and torso; if the pain bothered her at all, however, she did not show it. Tazama sported only minor scrapes from baiting the enemy lions, and Kasi was unmarked but looked more than a bit exhausted. We've been going nonstop for two nights with hardly any sleep. I'm not sure we can manage a third in our current condition.

They filed into the den at the back of the lair, a place that was more familiar to Shabaha than she would have liked. The columns were marked exactly as Tazama had described, and there was a scent in the air that Shabaha didn't recognize as Janga's or Jeraha's.

"I remember this exit," remarked Kasi. "Zira drilled us on using it all the time until Kion kicked us out."

"Well, what do we do now?" Imara demanded brusquely.

Shabaha's response was clear and without hesitation, even in the midst of her flagging state. "We follow her."

"No," said Sarabi. "You're going to regroup with Vitani. Leave Janga to me."

"You're going after her by yourself?" questioned Shabaha.

Sarabi sniffed at the air, a look of comprehension entering her features. "Not quite. I may have a lead. In any case, she isn't acting alone. We'll need Vitani back with us before too long."

Fair point. Shabaha decided not to argue, knowing that Janga was getting farther away the longer they dawdled. As she turned back to the Lion Guard, all she said was, "Be careful, Sarabi."

•••

Kumi's body laid amidst a wreath of flowers with both front paws over her chest. She had been placed at the foot of a forest clearing not far from the base of Mount Kilimanjaro. Her expression was more peaceful than Kopa had ever seen her, although it could have been the half-faded paint covering her face and neck. Assembled off to the side in two lines were eight warriors of the Nami tribe, singing a bold, heavy dirge in traditional lionspeak. Safina's solemn alto led the melody as she painted a series of white vertical lines upon Kumi's forehead.

Standing opposite the warriors were thirteen lions from the Mtera Pride, every able-bodied lion who had been physically fit for the descent from Mount Kilimanjaro. Malka's eyes were swollen, but no more tears came forth. By contrast, Afua had maintained his composure the entire way down, but now Kopa could see that his nose was raised just a little too high, his mouth a little too tight.

Tumaini wasn't even looking at Kumi, his head slumped and expression stony. Siri slowly placed her paw over his and gave it a light squeeze, and he seemed to exhale for the first time. Kopa had never seen him so utterly depleted. He wanted to say something reassuring, but the words fizzled out before they even reached his mouth.

As the Nami tribe finished their dirge, they stepped forward to form a circle around Kumi. In unison they crushed the berries beneath the flowers and pressed their paws upon her, marking her body with dark red pawprints before smearing themselves across the torso. They stepped back again in unison, all except Safina, who rose to a standing position but did not move otherwise.

The chief's weathered face was pensive but brazen. Her eyes lingered upon Kumi's face as she spoke. "Every warrior of the tribe takes two oaths when they come of age. To live a principled life of purpose and duty among their tribe, and to look death fearlessly in the eye when she comes for them. Kumi had left us many years ago, but her kingdom became her tribe, and in their moment of crisis, she acted with ferocity and struck fear into the hearts of her enemies. In this way she honoured us, and so we honour her tonight as one of our own. Mto ni damu yetu."

"Milima ni mifupa yetu," the warriors chorused. Safina moved back at last and rejoined her tribe.

Many eyes shifted onto Malka, and all Kopa could think about was how unusually small he looked in that moment. Clearing his throat unsteadily, the king took a small step forward. "Thank you, Chief Safina, and thank you, Nami tribe. I'll... get some hard truths out of the way. Kumi was not a perfect queen, far from it. Not that I'm one to talk, but the difference between us was that she didn't have to be queen. She sought a sense of self away from the tribe, whom she greatly loved and admired in spite of their mutual frustrations–" Malka gave a slight hiccuping laugh, and even Safina smirked a little at this. "–but she could've gone anywhere, been anybody... found the freedom she always wanted. Instead she took on a tremendous burden, made selfless sacrifices for a fool who pretended to be someone he wasn't, and to stand here right now without her is... more unbearable than I can put into words. So... I'm sorry, Kumi. For everything. I hope you've found the peace I could never give you."

Malka turned away with a dry gasping sob, plodding back into the small crowd. His pride murmured sympathetically in his ear as he passed by them, and as Kopa noticed that Tumaini had settled into a numb stupor, he nudged Afua forward.

His cubhood friend stumbled but quickly regained his balance, blinking as everyone's attention was now on him. With a gloomy sigh, Afua turned his gaze back to Kumi. "When I saw her being taken out of the gorge, I... I thought it was unfair. That she had come this close to finding me, saying the words I needed to hear – and now she never will. I didn't want to mourn, I wanted to blame her. And the worst part is..." His voice trembled and broke. "I started asking myself why I never wanted any of that before. Why does it matter now, when it's too late?"

Tumaini abruptly whirled around and broke off from the rest of the pride, stomping away into the forest without a word. Siri and a few others made to follow, but Kopa immediately held up a paw and rushed through the trees after his friend.

Even as he weaved his way through the freshly disturbed thicket, the crippling guilt that Kopa was becoming all too familiar with resurfaced once more. What do I even say to him? What can I say? Should I say nothing, or would that be wrong? Is it self-centered to tell him I blame myself? Or selfish to admit I'm trying not to?

Squeezing through the other side of the lion-sized opening in the thicket, he could see Tumaini sitting atop the edge of a slope where the trees came to an end, back turned to him. For a brief moment, Kopa hesitated to move any closer. And then his apprehension came crashing down against the yearning ache that arose from within him, and all he wanted was to close the distance he had felt growing between them in the last few days.

Kopa shuffled to Tumaini's side, and was grateful when his friend did not shirk away. "I'm sorry, buddy," he mumbled. "We didn't do nearly enough for her."

"I hate her," fumed the black-maned lion, tears of rage brimming in his eyes. "She didn't have to stay behind. She didn't have to make you choose."

"Well, I made my choice," Kopa burst out, surprising even himself as a flood of emotions seized him. "I chose you, Tumaini, because I will always choose you. And if your choice is to hate her, then who am I to say you shouldn't? Just look me in the eye and tell me one thing, would you?"

Slowly, Tumaini obliged by meeting his gaze.

"Are we okay? I can't even begin to untangle how to feel about myself right now, and I don't think I will until I know how you feel."

"I feel like you found the one decent person in my family when Afua joined your pride, and that includes yours truly," Tumaini muttered. "But yeah... we're okay, Kopa. Nothing will ever change that."

Kopa felt an enormous weight ease from within him. A lump arose in his throat even as relief coursed through him. "You don't blame me? Not even a little?"

The older lion gave a short laugh. "Get over yourself, kid – what she did wasn't for your sake, it was for mine. To spare me from having to choose between you and her. Why do you think I'm being so bitter about it?"

"It is really messed up," Kopa muttered.

Tumaini became serious again. "Yeah, well, get used to it. We're gonna need my uncle if we're going to survive this, and I'm already dreading what that might entail. We'd be lucky to make it through this with our sanity intact." With a despairing sigh, he flopped onto his front. "So Janga's alive, according to my brother. Which means the Duara Vunja knows you were the one who nearly killed her."

"Don't remind me," shuddered Kopa. "She doesn't strike me as the type to let things go, so I doubt I've seen the last of her. And she's... related to me?" Somehow he had been even less prepared for that particular revelation than he was about Janga's survival.

"Why couldn't you have been some common pride lion?" scoffed Tumaini, even as he wiped his snout with a sniffle. "Somehow you had to be the Serengeti's crown prince and Janga's nephew. I'm never gonna catch a break with you until I'm dead."

The two of them shared a quiet chuckle, and Kopa finally found himself enjoying the serenity of the evening, just a little. For a fleeting moment, it was almost as if they were back in the Maelewano Forest, with only the simplest of worries and cares.

And then Kopa's ears straightened as he caught the faint sound of a commotion coming from the direction of the clearing. Tumaini sat up, clearly having heard it too. They both turned as the thicket began to rustle, and a heartbeat later, a wild dog edged out onto the hillside, followed by another – and then another, and another, until there was nearly a score of them. The female at the forefront bore two gold lines painted on her right shoulder, and she looked surprisingly imposing for her otherwise diminutive size. She bared her fangs in a smile as she locked gazes with Tumaini.

The black-maned lion narrowed his eyes at her. "Majonzi."

Kopa's heart raced as he realized this was Bane's daughter. Majonzi strode up to Tumaini, not even slightly intimidated as she stared up at his towering figure. "I've been waiting for you to come back, Tumaini. I still owe you a dead brother, or did you forget?"

A snarl erupted from Tumaini's maw. His claws unsheathed at the same time as Kopa's, and both lions sprang into action as the wild dogs charged forward in tandem.