Chapter 1

The world was dark, and full of shadows. Zuri was alone, and she shuddered, pulling her limbs close to her, and she shivered. It wasn't the cold, though that too pulsed through her in a way that she struggled ignore. Kiava's words rang in her ears. The impossible words that haunted her nights. "Let the Pride be my witness…I declare… Zuri, Daughter of Damu, is my Heir... The Crown, Throne, and Kingdom of the Pridelands shall pass to her… and her descendants… For so long as the stars shine in the heavens. This vow I make, with the life of the land, the earth of the kingdom and the blood of the Kings."

She couldn't believe he had said it. A part of her wanted to dismiss them as delirium, even though she knew he had meant every word.

"Just… Just promise me that you'll be okay. Even if… Even if the worst happens."

This was the worst. It was happening right now.

The sounds of the battle had long since faded. Kiava had led them to a mighty victory against the snake, Abyss. The last of the Shai'tan Amun's minions. It had been a tough fight. A horrible thing, full of loud noises and roars and grunts and blood. But they had made it through it to the otherside. Both of them. Like Kion and the old heroes of the Pridelands. Kiava had fought with Abyss himself and defeated the monstrous python despite not yet being a full-grown lion. Even coming to her rescue when her pack had looked as though it was about to be overrun. Like a golden thunderbolt. And then the unthinkable had happened. One of the nameless mambas had not been quite dead, it had bitten him – and Bhagari – and now he was dying. Her friends were dying right in front her. Slipping away. Drop by drop. And there was nothing she could do about it as the venom tore its way through her. Kiava had all but given up. He had even made her his heir. She knew what that meant. He expected to die. It wasn't fair. They had come so far, survived so much. He had killed Amun and stood ready to fight the rest of the Shai'tan, even the Emperor himself and he was dying! It just wasn't fair. How could the Kings have let that happen? She sobbed to herself.

She couldn't see anything around her now. Night had fallen and she was alone in the dark. She had refused to see Shenzi, or Ookai or Bruce. Asante she had time for, but she was busy doing what she could with her shamanistic abilities to keep their two friends alive. So now she was alone. There was nobody around her. Not even Kiava. It seemed appropriate, she had never felt more alone, or more lost than she did now.

What was he even thinking making her his heir? Was he just trying to encourage her? What did she know about being Queen? She wasn't royalty, she wasn't even slightly related to any of the Great Kingdoms. Her mother was a Pridelander, her Grandmother too. The lionesses before that were nomads. But he had said the words. She could still feel his blood on her fur where he had marked her. Alone in that cave. Nobody else was there. She could pretend it never happened if he really did die. But then she'd be lying.

But what was she supposed to say? By the way, before Kiava died…

The words caught in her throat even as she thought them. Died. Kiava. He expected to die now. They all did, but they didn't say it aloud. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. She pictured his face, his golden fur and black mane.

"I warned you." She heard the words behind her, and she flinched as she recognised it. "Didn't I warn you? That if he didn't let go of that weakness, it would get him killed."

"Stop it. You're not really here. And besides, you changed. It wasn't real. You never really thought that." Zuri spat. Sarafina glared at her. The ancient lioness looked as cruel and as callous as she had ever seen her. That alone was enough for Zuri to know that she wasn't real. Wasn't really there. Sarafina was a harsh mistress. But her cruelty had been as much a façade as her uncaring nature. The real Sarafina would never say that to her.

"It doesn't matter what I thought." Sarafina snarled. "What matters is what you think. You and I both know it. You were supposed to protect him. To be his right paw. His friend. Isn't that what you wanted? Well this is it. This is what that looks like. That's what he lives with."

"I don't want it then." Zuri said. It almost hurt her how quickly the words tumbled out of her. "That's not me. That's his destiny. I am not going to rule. I am not going to give up on him. I'm not even going to think about what that would look like." She said.

She didn't need to. She could see it, as clearly as water. Kiava perished. Dying a martyr to face Amun. Asante and the others would follow her instead. Shenzi begrudgingly, Asante more willingly, but they would do so. She could picture it. A horde of spotted hyenas the likes of which the Pridelands hadn't seen since Scar's reign, pouring out of the Shadowlands and into the Pridelands.

Finding Vitani. Finding her mother. She could picture the scene. Battle-hardened hyenas coming to the aid of the Pridelands, like a scene out of a feytale, charging to the rescue. Herself leading the charge. Scarred and scratched. She could imagine it clearly.

Finding the others. Finding her mother.

Or perhaps finding her mother dead, killed in some useless struggle whilst they had waited for them. Killed in battle. Killed before they'd even fled from Bane's shade. She didn't think she could face it without Kiava by her side. The best possible outcome would be her returning to the others and finding them all alive. Fighting the Shai'tan together. Bringing the hyenas along with her, and fighting the rest of the Shai'tan. Even the Emperor himself. And then what? Crown her as Queen of the Pridelands? No. She never could. Queen Zuri was a ludicrous thought. Kiava had to survive. He had to recover. He had to get better. If not what was the point in any of it? Why go through what they had gone through. She looked up at the vision of Sarafina and found the lioness had changed. Now it was her mother. Damu. The former Outsider who had taught her how to heal with herbs and leaves, like her grandmother Meetra had. Somehow she doubted it would be enough.

"What am I supposed to do now?" She asked her, glumly. Her mother didn't reply. She just nuzzled her daughter.

"I miss you." She said. Zuri nearly broke.

"I miss you to. You seem so far away. I need your help. I can't do this anymore. I am just one lioness. I don't know how to be this person anymore." She said. She looked up, and saw that she was gone. She sighed. Zuri left a stone forming in her throat. It hurt to speak. Her eyes were full of tears.

"Are you happy yet?" She called out into the darkness. She could see other lion and lionesses there. Great imposing shapes. Figures of warriors and kings and queens. Spirits of the Past. "What more do you want from us? What more can you ask of him? He did everything you asked! He trusted you! Please. Please, if you are real, if you can hear me, if you are really there, help him." She begged. The Kings of the Past looked at her impassively. To her eyes, they were featureless, blank faced. All the same-coloured fur, and eyes of glowing yellow. Kiava had described seeing the spirits of Scar and his parents, they had been right there in front of him. To her though, they seemed faceless, emotionless. Distant and unkind. She continued to sob.

"Help me." She begged. She didn't know how much longer she could do this. How much longer she could push away the inevitable. Kiava was dying, and he was dying in pain. And when he did, it would be left to her. Left to her to lead the hyenas, defeat the Shai'tan and their Emperor.

For a moment, a vision of her standing tall and proud, a full-grown lioness clawing at the aging and greying form of the Emperor flashed across her vision. But as soon as it came, it was replaced by darker, stiller visions, of her lying defeated at his feet, her blood pouring out around her, as she was sent to join Kiava once again. She shuddered in fear. She couldn't do this. Not alone.

"What am I supposed to do now?" She asked, and looked up. She was dreaming. She knew that as soon as she looked up into the face of Kiava. Uninjured. Unhurt. He was smiling at her, but it was a sad smile. He leaned down and nuzzled her face, and licked the tears from her cheek.

"I have left the Kingdom in capable paws."

"I don't care about the Kingdom." She confessed, looking up at him. "I care about you. Its not fair. You can't die. You can't leave me alone. Not here. In the Shadowlands, surrounded by hyenas and –"

"They're your friends."

"But they aren't you." She implored him. "We were winning. You killed Amun. The Shai'tan aren't immortal, they aren't invincible. You showed Shenzi a better way, you helped Asante. We can do this. We can do this together. Defeat the Imperium, kill the Emperor and the Shai'tan. Its not fair for you to die now."

She looked at him, and as she watched he seemed to change. To transform. He was growing older, his mane growing longer, his body extending, his muscles lengthening. He looked a little like how she remembered Kovu, and a lot like how she remembered Kiara. There was a lot of Kion in him too, his dark mane was long and lustrous. She looked down at herself, and saw a lioness grown. He inspected a claw, and smiled at her.

"Is this how you see me?" He asked her, and she flushed. "I've thought about it. The kind of king you'll turn into. I think you're gonna be good at this. I mean you got Shenzi to change her mind! You tricked Amun! You… Can't die… You can't leave me alone."

And in that moment they were themselves again, their proper ages.

"It's a lovely dream, Zuri. Better than this one. But there isn't anything I can do. I am so sorry."

"Please Kiava… Please just hold on. Something will happen. Something will turn up. Why would the Kings send us here just to die?"

"We aren't dying. Just me. If I go, I know I can count on you."

"That's not how it feels." She whispered.

"I know. I'm sorry, Zuri." And then the shade vanished. None of it was real. Just another figure in her nightmares. Zuri cried out as her friend melted away.

"Danyal!"

"Sundar!"

The panicked voices echoed across the savannah. Almasi was running through the grassland, her expression one of panic. Lukaan wasn't looking much better. Even so she was glad of her presence. Lukaan knew Danyal's identity, and meant she could call out his true name. She wasn't sure she could bring herself to call out Kiava's name. Lukaan looked frantic.

"Any sign of them?" He asked, looking anxious. Almasi shook her head. There was no sign of either of the two lions on the former battlefield. The wilddogs had long since departed Five Stones, leaving only the dead and the injured. They had found a few wounded. A rhinoceros that had somehow managed to survive its wounds. One of Jahi's cheetahs who it was possible that Yessen and Rafiki might save. But there was no sign of Danyal or Sundar. No sign at all. They had failed to make it to the gateway that the Shaman had opened to flee from, but that didn't mean they were dead. They could have escaped. And that meant they needed to know for sure before they gave them up for dead. They couldn't leave any stone unturned. She had promised Sara as much, but even if she hadn't, she wouldn't have needed any encouragement. They were fighting for the right of their Prides young to live a life free of the Shai'tan. They couldn't abandon them now.

"They have to be here, somewhere." Lukaan said, firmly. "She has to be here. She can't be dead." He said. The white lion looked frantic. She couldn't blame him. She would be as anxious for any of her children. Worse, when he had last spoken with his daughter, it hadn't been on good terms. The young Sundar had been furious with him. Of course, she knew now why she had been so hostile to Vitani and Lukaan's scheme to betroth her to the young Prince of the Pridelands, but she hadn't shared that piece of information. Better it come from Sundar herself. It wouldn't have helped in any case.

"Come on." Almasi said, shaking herself and trying to get a grip on the cold feeling of dread that was creeping over her.

The two continued their grim work, searching desperately for the signs of any living thing. It was heartrending, and Lukaan was becoming increasingly agitated. As they moved further out from where the battle had taken place, Lukaan suddenly flinched, spotting something and running forwards with reckless abandon.

"Helio!" He cried out, and Almasi felt her heart seize. Lukaan was standing over a young lion. It was Helio, the young male from the asiatic pride. She hadn't spoken to him much, but she knew him by sight. He had been a friend of Sundar's. Danyal too, she had thought. Though ofttimes more a rival. Lukaan was standing over his form and he let out a grief-stricken roar of anguish.

"Lukaan…" Almasi offered him a paw. He was dead, she could see that. The young lion had taken a grievous wound to the throat, and there was blood all over the place. He was surrounded by wilddogs and jackals. He had gone down fighting, that much was clear, but it was little comfort to Lukaan.

"No, no no!" Lukaan looked desperate. He looked at her with pleading eyes, but she shook her head.

"He's gone. Even if we got him to a Shaman now…" She trailed off. Lukaan sat back his haunches. The young lion's blood was staining his white fur.

"He was one of my Pride. He was like a Son to me. I don't…" Almasi leant into the older lion and felt his heavy shuddering breath. She didn't know what to say, what words of comfort to offer him, or how to express how sorry she felt. Privately she felt her own fears rise. If Helio had been killed, then the odds that Danyal had survived were falling. Helio was in his prime, but Danyal, for all his wonderful qualities had never quite recovered from the wounds inflicted upon him by Sekhmet.

"Lukaan… Lukaan, listen to me." She muttered. She was staring at the ground where the grassland was soddened. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the battlefield. "Sundar was here." She realised. Sundar's shamanistic abilities often took the form of ice and frost. When it melted, it left the ground damp, and she could see it now, around several of the bodies of fallen wilddogs. Lukaan managed to pull himself away from Helio's form.

"Is she here?" He asked her, desperately. Almasi cast her eyes about, searching. She couldn't see him. But something did move and catch her eye. One of the wilddogs was moving. She lunged towards them.

"You!" She shouted in fury. The wilddog flinched and let out a groan. Its eyes blinked up at her, looking confused and disoriented. "Where are they?"

"Ugh… What…" It gave a soft moan. Lukaan roared in fury.

"Did you kill them!? Sundar and –"

"You're too late… Mortread has them now." The wilddog muttered. Almasi's eyes widened.

"I know you. You're Harrin. The wilddog commander from Golgorath. My daughter had me spare your life. I promised I would kill you if I ever saw you again!" She hissed. Mortread had them. The Shai'tan. Of course. It made sense. Vitani was right. Mortread had been playing with them, stalling for time, whilst his minions hunted down the highest priority targets from among the rebels. The King of the Pridelands, and the lioness with shamanic abilities. They hadn't needed Helio alive, so they had killed him. Her blood ran cold and she drew her claws. The wilddog was unconscious now though, slipped back into his sleep. She glanced at Lukaan and realised he had turned even more deathly pale.

"They have her. My daughter. Mortread has her." He whispered.

"We'll get her back." Almasi said, softly. "We'll get them both back. I promise." She looked down at the unconscious wilddog, and swallowed. She itched to end his life just as she had promised she would. Instead she bent down and hauled the wilddog onto her back.

"What are you doing?" He asked her.

"Maybe he knows something. If he does, then he is going to tell us everything he knows. We are going to get Sundar and Danyal back. I promise." She said.

In the Outlands, the dust of the Outlands clung to his fur and Danyal twisted and writhed on the ground. He screwed his eyes shut as another blow rained down on him. He gasped in pain as the air was forced from his lungs and he gasped. Standing over him, a monstrous she-wolf glared at him with piercing, merciless and unforgiving eyes. He coughed, and more pain wrecked through him. He was utterly exhausted and lay there on his back, lying on the broken hard ground, panting, looking up at her. With a snarl, she leaned forward and placed her paws on one of the gaping wounds that covered his chest. It was a shallow wound, hardly lethal especially in comparison the scars that mottled his body, but when she placed her weight on him and shifted he jerked and let out an involuntary shout of pain.

"That's enough, Zavana." Mortread barked in a short-clipped tone. The wolf didn't hesitate. She stepped free and he gasped again as relief flooded through him. Mortread watched the bloody affair from the entrance to the carved den they lay in.

They were in the Outlands, the distant wild territory to the north of the Pridelands where Zira and her Outsiders had once dwelt, where Jasiri and her Pact had lived, and where even Danyal had once lived the life of a wandering nomad with his mother. He knew the sides of a termite mound when he saw it.

Focusing on those details helped distract him from the pain he was experiencing. The tiger moved over to him, his form towering over him.

"You are beginning to try my patience…" Mortread growled. Danyal coughed and pulled away, slowly crawling to his feet, his head spinning.

"Yeah. I get that a lot." Danyal muttered. Mortread glanced to Zavana and nodded and once again the wolf struck at him. She was clinical and deadly efficient. Danyal tried to block the blow but it was a futile gesture in his present condition and she simply feinted to the left and then slammed into the young lion with her head, catching him in the chest and causing him to bite back a shout. As he stumbled backward, she snapped at him, striking him right in the tender and vulnerable flesh of twisted scar tissue from where moons before Sekhmet had wounded him. The blunt jab sent spasms of pain through him and Danyal couldn't bight back a scream.

"You are making this very difficult for yourself. Just tell me want I want to know. Such as who else is leading the rebels? I recognized Vitani and Lukaan. Who are the other leaders?" He asked. Danyal said nothing. Unlike others, Mortread took no sadistic pleasure or thrill in his work, and seemed content to let the Zavana do most of the brutalizing. She slank in the background, staring at him hungrily whilst Mortread repeated his questions again. Danyal didn't climb to his feet this time. He simply lay there, his stomach rising and falling with ragged breathing, writhing in pain. He let out a groan and Mortread cursed again.

"Where will the rebels go now? They won't stay near Five Stones. Where will have gone?" He asked. Danyal groaned but didn't say a word. Mortread slammed his paw into the ground next to Danyal's head, but the lion didn't flinch. Mortread growled. "How many rebels are there in total?" He tried a different tact. Danyal turned away and didn't look at him.

"Why do you continue to resist us!? Do you all have some kind of martyrdom complex?" He snarled contemptuously. "Is it a disease in the blood? You do not lack for intelligence, you must know your eventual defeat is inevitable, you achieve nothing with your resistance other than pointlessly prolonging the fighting! You win nothing except for the protraction of your own suffering and the whole time you drag the Imperium's newest province back into turmoil with this childish ignorance of reality! It's over! It's done! Why do you still fight us when it only brings you pain!?" He shouted in anger. Danyal turned to look at him.

"You wouldn't understand… How could you? It's not as if you've ever fought for something other than yourself. All you fight for is power! I won't help you hurt my friends."

"You don't know anything about me." Mortread sneered.

"You aren't difficult to unravel, Shai'tan. None of you are. You like the way power feels, so you kill anyone you need to get it. That's all there is to you. There's no great revelation or mystery to you." Danyal managed to gasp. Mortread shook his head.

"You poor fool. You've lost a war and think that means you understand us. We are not destroyers, King of the Pridelands. We are the builders. Carving out the mightiest civilization from here to the rim of the world. Taming pure wild chaos." He said. Danyal grunted.

"I've met the asiatics lions. I know all about the kind of order you'd impose. You'd build make a wasteland and call it peace. Helio wasn't offered your civilization! None of the Pridelands were. And I don't think Sundar's uncle, King Malaki was a part of your peace! You're conquerors." Danyal snarled. Mortread sniffed in anger.

"In your land, perhaps. In ours, and in asiatics, the Emperor domination of Asiatica was his birthright, lion. Scion of a line going all the way back in an unbroken line since Shan-Al-Kir! They were the ones who rebelled against their rightful ruler! It was they who tried to crown someone else."

"I've met your Emperor. I can see why. It can't have been a difficult choice." He said. Mortread grimaced.

"We, we the loyal ones, boy. They named us Shai'tan for it, but ensured that the Emperor was given the throne he was owed. When we wiped out the would-be usurpers, when we defeated savage rebels, they were not so different to your Outsiders. Yes, I know the history of your Kingdom, your Majesty. And from it, I know that had you had been there, King Kiava, you would have decided we were the good guys." He declared.

"Maybe I would have done. Until you started executing whole Prides." He said. Mortread laughed.

"There it is. The self-righteousness of the would-be hero. Why did I think you could be reasoned with? I've seen your kind before. So certain that the world is black and white… and so sure of your own actions… Your naiveté is laughable. The only people responsible for the death and destruction of the last year is you." He said. Danyal grimaced.

"Damn you." He spat. Mortread's laugh faded.

"Zavana?"

"Yes my Lord?" The wolf asked him. She was staring Danyal with hungry eyes.

"Let's begin again."