Rifts in the Ice: A Lion King Story

Chapter Four

Simba winced as Radimir's claw dug deeper into his cheek, inching itself below his eye. The cub glanced every which way, trying to decide where he might run. All the while, Radimir's impatience burned.

"I don't have any children of my own," he growled. "Karina is the closest anything comes to a daughter for me. So, if you're a threat to her, whether you intend to be or not, whether you realize it or not, I need to know what we're dealing with here."

Simba shut his eyes, gnashed his teeth. The bear's claw was too much. His bellowing breath too crude. Everything about this place was turning intolerable too fast.

"Show me your paw." Radimir bared his teeth. "I won't say it again."

But then, an animal's cry surfaced from the woods.

Its pitch rang out high with a ghoulish tone, sending shrill echoes slicing between the trees. Radimir jerked towards its apparent source and lowed his claw. Simba did the same. After a moment's respite, it came again stronger, mournfully demented, a haunting shriek. And whatever was making this terrible cry was not alone. More of the same voices answered it's call.

Radimir's face lost some color, and his mouth released the slightest of gasps, stripping him of breath. "No," he whispered. "Not here. This is too close, it can't be."

The cry came again, closer this time, and Simba took advantage of the distraction. Pulling away from Radimir, he sprinted into the woods, kicking up snow. He shut out the horrible cries ringing over the mountains, and he ignored Radimir's panicked pleas for him to come back. He shut out everything from his mind save escaping. Enough was enough. He didn't belong here, and he didn't want to be here. An immediate flight was his only option.

The cub jumped over logs, ducked under branches. His legs cut through air like bird wings chopping gusts, and his pumping heart kept pace with his paws. He weaved his way through the leafless underbrush until a break in the tree line came. Reaching an open meadow, Simba stopped to breathe.

The rising wind ripped his warm breath apart. A few withered leaves rustled past, and the setting sun had all but dipped behind the mountains. Night was quickly seeping.

Across the meadow, Simba saw strange shadows filling spaces between tree trunks. They walked up on two legs like monkeys, but their arms never touched the ground. One of them stood still, almost as if staring Simba down. And then it started running towards him, sending the little lion into a panic.

Simba sprinted back into the woods, losing any sense of direction he had left. Low hanging branches struck his face, and prickly bushes, no more than naked skeletons, scraped his limbs. Still, Simba ran, but he was running out of breath, running out of time.

Feeling the ground suddenly dip under his paws, the young cub spiraled into a ditch. He coughed away his shock, shook off the grim and dirt, but everywhere around him the shrill screams kept sounding off, closer now than ever before.

Simba climbed out the ditch, resumed his sprint, but pressure on his left forepaw seared him with pain. He collapsed again. Then, he caught glimpses of large, white bodies stalking behind trees. He heard their haunting calls, too close to escape, and smelt their putrid odors. Whatever was after him had surrounded Simba, and the poor cub jolted his head here and there, frantically searching for somewhere to hide.

Upon his fourth or fifth look around, the cub felt something run into him. Feeling paws on his belly, Simba grunted as the force pushed him into a thicket. He lay belly first under the dry bushes, but soon felt his savior climbing on top of him, pushing her own belly onto his back.

"Karina?" he asked.

The snow leopard cub slapped his mouth shut. "Don't. Say. Anything." She kept her paw over his mouth. Time crawled by, fleeting seconds turning into hours, but the two cubs lay there, holding their own and holding their breath. They watched a source of the haunted calls lumber in front of them, and Simba was able to get a good look at it. The creature was tall with a white, lengthy pelt. Its mouth hung open, a gaping hole ready to swallow up more than just air, and its eyes were equally dark, equally empty. It sniffed the surroundings, moved over some logs with bulky arms, and Simba prayed to the Great Kings that it leave.

Then, the cub heard a new noise, a sound unlike anything he had ever heard before. It caught the attention of the white, hulking creatures and sent them running into the wilderness. Simba heard Karina sigh, felt her crawling off his back. Lying beside him, the snow leopard pulled him into a tight hug.

"What were you thinking?" She asked, her voice choking up. "Why'd you run off like that? Are you brainless?"

She buried her head in his chest, and Simba heard her sniffling. Wrapping his paws around her, Simba lost control of his own emptions and started crying too.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say. "I'm sorry."

Karina gently nuzzled his face and the two cubs held each other as they cried. By the time they had collected their emotions, the moon had perched itself amongst the stars, glowing the night sky lovely. Both felines slowly crawled out from the thicket and listened, smelled, looked for any sign of the creatures in hiding, waiting to ambush. But all their senses indicated otherwise.

Feeling somewhat safe, Simba followed Karina up a narrow path. "It's a decent walk back to our territory," she said. "But I need answers. What happened back at Radimir's place?"

Simba sulked. "He scared me."

"How?" Karina moved closer. "Did he say something? Do something?"

"He said he smelt evil in me, and then those things started screaming."

"He said that? He really said that?" Karina displayed her teeth. "I'm going to have words with him."

"Karina." Simba put a paw on her shoulder, stopping her. "He's right."

The snow leopard's eyes widened. "Huh?"

"I-" Simba blinked back tears, felt himself choking up. "I don't deserve your kindness."

"Why?"

The lion cub locked eyes with her. Like an elephant carrying water inside its long, plump trunk, sooner or later the truth would spew out. And Simba figured it was better to control when he released this burden rather than it being forced out of him like it almost was with Radimir. It was now or never.

"My father… is dead…and it's my fault."

Simba told her about the stampede, how he started it with a roar. He told her how his father, with nary a care for his own safety, leapt into the mass exodus of wildebeests and saved him. But as his father, wounded and weary, used all his strength to climb out of the gorge, he somehow lost his bearing and fell to his death.

"My uncle found me by dad's body." Simba wiped his eyes. "He told me to run away and never return. So, I ran."

Karina sat silent and still, her expression mirroring someone who just watched a friend die. Simba spoke up again, said, "That's why I need to leave. It's not right for you and your mom to care so much about me." He drew more lines in the snow. "I deserve to be alone."

Silence refilled the space between the cubs. Karina looked down at the frost nibbling her paws, processing everything that had transpired. Believing he'd said all that he could say, Simba started on his vain walk to nowhere again. But Karina stopped him.

"You're not evil, Simba." She placed her paw on his cheek. "You're not a monster. What happened in that gorge was terrible, but it's not your fault." She pulled him very near and nuzzled him. "You didn't know whole herds of animals were grazing nearby. It was an accident." Karina pressed herself with Simba, wrapping him up in another hug. "Don't ever forget your father, but do forgive yourself. It's what he'd want."

"How do you know?"

Karina pulled her head back and smiled at Simba. "Because you're a sweet lion, and only a great father could've raised someone so sweet."

She leaned back in, and a few more tears trailed out Simba's eyes, trickling themselves onto Karina's fur. This girl sure was something special. To still like him after everything Simba unpacked; the young cub couldn't believe it. He wanted to, but couldn't. He also felt he'd probably never forgive himself for what happened in that gorge, accident or not. He'd hold onto this burden like a parasite held onto its host until death parted them. But, maybe with Karina's help, he could learn to live with himself, love himself even. As she broke away from their hug and walked on ahead, beckoning him to follow, Simba felt, at that moment, he was starting to love her.

The cubs trailed a beaten path through the woods. Though relaxed, they kept their senses alert in case the shrieks and smells of those awful creatures came back. The moon shone full, and the stars burned bright by its side. If it hadn't been for the day's clamor, Simba figured it would be the perfect time for stargazing. He missed those kinds of nights back in the Pridelands. He missed a lot of things about home.

"Hey, now I have a question," Simba said.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"What were those things?"

Karina's face turned dark. "You want to call something evil? Those things are a perfect choice. But we call them Yeti."

"Yeti?" Simba cranked his head. "Are they monkeys? Gorillas?"

"I don't know what those are," Karina replied. "But I'm certain there's no other animal like Yeti in this place."

"So, they're the dominate predators?"

"It's not even about food." Karina picked up her pace, venting anger with each thudded footstep. "They don't eat us."

"Then why hunt you guys?"

"It's a long story, one I don't have time to tell right now. But let's just say they made my ancestors desperate, and so my ancestors struck a blow from which the Yeti couldn't recover. And they've been killing us ever since."

"Couldn't recover?" Simba raised his eyebrows. "They seemed fine to me."

"Like I said, it's a long, complicated story. My mom ca-" Karina stopped walking. Oceans of fear flooded her eyes, and upon understanding why, Simba felt his own spirit drowning.

"Your mom!" Simba said.

"We need to hurry!"

The two cubs dashed along the path. They ran up snow-slippery slopes and vaulted over withering underbrush. Simba's legs were turning sore, his muscles all rubbery from the previous escapade. Still, the young cub urged his body forward, channeling what energy he had left in keeping up with Karina.

They weaved themselves around rotting tree stumps, waded through shallow creek beds. At one point, the cubs padded across a downed trunk, covered in moss, layered with damp bark. Suddenly, in the farthest flank of his vision, Simba noticed Karina falling back, yelping as she did so. The cub stopped and saw his friend's leg had punctured a hole in the trunk's bulk, good and stuck.

"Hey," Karina struggled, her leg refusing to budge. "Get me out of here!"

Simba returned to her side, doing his best to yank Karina free.

"You know, I was thinking."

"Less thinking more pulling!"

Simba adjusted his angle, said, "Don't you think it's weird the Yeti cry out like they do?" He popped Karina's leg free. "What predator does that before a kill?"

The cub remembered the first time his own mother took him hunting in the savannah. Simba could barely contain his excitement. Bragging all the way from Pride Rock, he told his mother of a great plan to release a magnificent roar from the bowels of his throat as he pounced on his dumbfounded prey. That way, everyone within earshot would know the prince's hunting skills were pristine.

She quickly casted down such ambitions, calmly informing him that alerting a target to the presence of a hunter only hurt his chances at scoring a kill. A good predator celebrated after the hunt concluded, not before. The key was to sink belly first to the ground, loosen the stiff from your muscles, and then expend your energy in a quick burst while the wind was on your side. If carried out correctly, no one would see your work and no one would hear your work, so why bother with the show? Simba obeyed and took home his first catch, making everyone proud.

"That's the terrifying thing about them," Karina replied, shaking out her leg. "It's their way of saying they're coming for us, and there's nothing we can do about it." She jumped down from the large log with Simba following. "They always kill at least one of us before their attacks end."

A strong realization hit Simba like a current slamming itself down a waterfall. "So, that's why you leopards all live alone. You're spreading yourselves out, hiding your numbers?"

Karina nodded. "There are stories of us all living together in big, family groups once. But the Yeti had easier times finding us, and you have no idea how many leopards it takes just to bring one down." The two cubs came to a three-way fork in the path. Karina chose the path on the left, and they returned to running. "For every one we kill like that, they nab at least a dozen." There was rain in her voice.

"That's awful," Simba sighed.

"You want awful? Pray you never meet their leader."

Simba swallowed. "Why? What he's like?"

The cubs rounded a bend in the woods.

"I've never actually seen him, but I've heard rumors. Unlike the rest of his kind, they say he has a brown pelt, stinky and lanky. They say he sees through the beadiest of eyes and bears a yellow smile sharp enough to dice your heart."

Karina's description diced Simba's own heart into shreds, and he slowed to a stop.

"What's wrong?" Karina asked, skidding herself still, huffing. "What is it?"

"He doesn't have these weird silver spheres that jingle along his arms, does he?" A horrible churning spun the cub's stomach queasy.

"Yeah, yeah he does." Karina replied. "There's even a creepy nursery rhyme about them." She sat up.

Bodies of copper, bodies of bronze,

Their somber call summons his pawns.

Simba's senses perked up. The air tasted stale, and the ground appeared to quake. Something was wrong.

Rain may fall, wind might cry,

Still their tunes fill earth and sky.

The putrid smell from earlier returned, only now herb residue accompanied it.

Hear them awake, hear them asleep,

Only moments before you meet.

Tall trees wither, and mountains crumble,

The masters next words turn the bravest humble.

Then, Simba heard it; the sound that called those creatures away, the light jingle of these so-called bells, ringing out behind him.

Hear my instrument's haunted chime,

Karina gasped, unable to finish as she looked past Simba, into the wide field stretching behind him. Simba slowly about-faced, saw what he hoped to never see again.

The brown creature from the desert, this abominable Yeti, approached. Stretching his pointed, yellow smile with sickening glee, he clapped his hands and finished the rhyme.

"And know, here and now, your life is mine." He plucked off one of his bells and rang it quick. Several white-furred Yeti's from earlier burst from the snow banks, surrounding the poor cubs.

"I couldn't have said it better myself."