by Erin Hunter
“Did you?” Mighty yawned. “A strange sort of dream.”
Fearless hesitated, unsure how much he wanted to talk about it. “I was with Gallant and Loyal. I suppose it was a good dream. To start with. Then I tried to keep up with them, but they left me behind.”
“Of course they did.” Mighty was in a much better mood, almost back to his old self. “They’re dead. You should be grateful they left without you.” He gave a huffing laugh.
“That’s a fair point,” muttered Fearless.
“I knew Loyal Prideless,” mused Mighty, stretching to claw the grass.
“You did?”
“We hunted together for a season, he and I.” Mighty settled back to the ground. “He never talked much about himself. He was good company, but a hard lion to get to know.”
“That’s true,” growled Fearless. I hunted with him, talked with him, relied on him, and still he managed to hide our true relationship from me. . . .
“I suppose Loyal had his reasons,” said Mighty. “He did once let slip that he’d loved and lost, that he had a cub somewhere on the savannah, a cub he missed very much. He longed to see it, but I don’t know if he ever got the chance.”
“He did,” said Fearless. “That was me. It was my mother Swift he loved.”
“Is that so?” Mighty flicked his ears forward, startled. Then, pensively, he nodded. “So that was the connection between you? Valor didn’t tell me that.”
“She didn’t know till recently. Neither of us did.” Fearless took a breath. “I didn’t find out till too late. But he knew.” At least I gave him that. . . .
“You know how that lion broke his tail?” Mighty laughed at the memory. “We got in a fight with an entire hyena clan. I wanted to cut our losses and run, but not Loyal. That bushbuck’s ours, he said, and I’m not letting it go without a fight. Well, we did have to let it go, in the end. But it certainly wasn’t without a fight.”
“That’s . . . good to know. Thanks for telling me.” Fearless grunted with amusement. “Is that how Loyal got the scar on his face too?”
Mighty nodded. “A particularly big female. Tongue-ripper, her name was. Loyal gave her some scars in exchange, though. Say, I thought Gallant was your father?”
“He was,” said Fearless firmly. “They both were. I guess I’m lucky that way: two sires. Loyal was my blood father, but Gallant raised me as his own. I just hope I can live up to their memories.”
Mighty looked at him, a light breeze stirring his mane. “You already are. You’re a fine cub, Fearless.”
It was a compliment, Fearless knew, but he felt an itch of resentment in his gut. I’m not a cub anymore!
But the big lion had meant well. Fearless hated to risk breaking Mighty’s mood, but he still needed his help, and there seemed no better time to bring it up. “Mighty . . . about Titan . . .”
“Did someone mention Titan?” Valor rose to her paws, left her cubs, and stalked over, glaring at Fearless. “It’s a pleasant morning. Let’s not spoil it.”
“We must speak of him,” said Fearless.
Keen, lying nearby, flicked his ears toward them; then he too rose and walked across to join the little group. He said nothing, but he glanced with anxiety from Valor to Mighty to Fearless.
“Mighty, I don’t want to anger you again,” said Fearless, swallowing as he watched the lion’s thoughtful face, “but Titan has to be confronted.”
“Not anytime soon, he doesn’t,” snapped Valor. “I told you, it’s a bright morning. Don’t let your obsession ruin it.”
“It’s as good a moment as any,” replied Fearless. “It’s not just personal, Valor. You know as well as I do—no lion is safe from Titan.” He flicked a worried glance at her cubs.
Valor sighed deeply and flattened her ears. She scowled. “Well, you have to make your own decisions, brother. But you don’t have to drag Mighty into this.” Valor’s demeanor had changed subtly; she gave him a pleading look.
“Let me speak for myself, Valor,” said Mighty gently. “Listen, Fearless, I spoke to many of your pride last night, and I listened to what they had to say about Titan. Especially the ones who were in Titanpride—they knew him best. And I can’t deny that what they told me was alarming. This heart-eating business—it disturbs me. But we’ve all eaten hearts, Fearless.”
“But this is different,” urged Fearless. “Titan takes the heart before his victim’s spirit can leave for the stars. It’s a trick of the golden wolves, an evil tradition. No lion should kill in such a way—and Titan takes only the hearts.”
“Well, it is Codebreaking, but that’s nothing new from Titan.” Mighty licked his jaws and made a face.
“Mighty! Mighty!” A young lion bounded up, skidding to a halt so fast he kicked up a cloud of dust. “You have to come!”
Mighty turned to him. “What is it, Noble? You’re supposed to be scouting—”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” said Noble. “And Titan Wolfpride has just marched straight into your territory!”
“What?” Mighty leaped to his feet.
Fearless sprang up beside him, his fangs bared. “I have to fight Titan!”
“No,” snarled Mighty, shaking his mane. “This is my territory, Fearless. I’ll see this intruder off!”
“You don’t understand!” exclaimed Fearless, his eyes widening. “Titan’s a cheat and a murderer. He doesn’t fight fair.”
“Yes, so I’ve heard,” said Mighty with a glance at Valor. “Noble, are Titan’s wolves with him?”
“Not that we could see, Mighty. He’s come alone.” Noble growled. “The insolence!”
“Then, Fearless, you have nothing to worry about. I will deal with this arrogant lion, and I’ll do it alone.” Mighty’s muzzle wrinkled in anger.
“But—” Fearless began.
Then he caught the look Keen gave him, and the slight shake of his head.
No, he thought. Keen’s right. I’m a guest on Mightypride territory. And the great lion had treated him with generosity and patience; Fearless had no right to quarrel with him. He dipped his head. “Be careful, Mighty,” he muttered.
“That will hardly be necessary,” growled Mighty with amusement. “But nevertheless, I’ll bear your advice in mind.”
Tossing his mane and squaring his shoulders, Mighty strode off after Noble. Fearless, Keen, Valor, and the rest of the pride fell in behind the leader, ears, tails, and whiskers twitching with anticipation.
Titan came into view far too soon, pacing briskly across the plain toward Mighty. The two huge lions halted when they were a gazelle-spring apart, their blazing eyes locked on each other. For a terrible moment, there was nothing but taut silence. The air shimmered with heat. Then the eerie cry of an eagle overhead split the air.
Titan slammed a paw against the ground, raking his claws through the dust. His muzzle peeled back from bloody fangs.
“There you stand, Mighty Mightypride. I, Titan of Wolfpride, come to claim your heart.”
A shudder of dread went through Fearless: the words were a twisted version of the traditional lion challenge. He shot a look at Keen, and what he saw in his friend’s eyes did not reassure him: it was fear. Keen swallowed, but his stare hardened and he stood up straighter beside Valor. All of Mightypride glared in defiant hostility at the massive, black-maned intruder.
There was amusement beneath the anger in Mighty’s voice.
“And I, Mighty, fight to keep . . . my heart.”
For a moment, though, the lions did not move. Titan’s dark gaze slid toward Fearless.
“Ah, there you are, Gallantbrat. Shouldn’t you be standing in Mighty’s place at this moment? There was . . . oh, let me try to remember . . . an oath, wasn’t there? So why is Mighty fighting your battles for you?”
Fearless gave a growl of anger, deep in his throat. The muscles of his stiff forelegs trembled, and his hide prickled all over with loathing.
But he glanced at Mighty and dipped his head in respect. “Because,
Titan, this isn’t my battle. Not right here and now.”
“An oath-breaker, then: just like your father Loyal Prideless.” Titan spat the words.
Every bone and muscle in Fearless’s body itched to launch himself at his sneering enemy, but Mighty’s presence held him back. He could not disrespect the lion in his own territory, no matter how badly he wanted to claw Titan’s glittering eyes from his skull.
He could only snarl in frustration and force his trembling paws into stillness, as Mighty and Titan began to circle each other, their eyes locked. But I am supposed to kill Titan. Me!
“Mighty is a great hunter,” Valor whispered next to him. “If anyone can defeat Titan, it’s him.”
Fearless nudged her with his head, trying to push down his own disappointment. “I know,” he said quietly, but inside he was thinking something else. Fighting isn’t the same thing as hunting.
There was no more time for talk. Bunching their rippling muscles, the two lions roared and sprang into violent combat.
The ground seemed to shake beneath Fearless’s paws. Both lions were huge, and Titan’s fury and hatred seemed to shimmer around him like the heat on the horizon. But Mighty was no easy opponent, and his calm determination was an advantage. Where Titan clawed and lashed and flung himself wildly, Mighty took the time to dodge and position himself, aiming well-placed blows at his enemy. Titan gave a high-pitched snarl of frustration as his claws missed their mark yet again, and Mighty’s huge paw slammed him to the ground.
Titan rolled and struggled to his feet, his flanks heaving with rage. Exposing his fangs, he launched himself at Mighty’s throat; Mighty ducked, spun, and, as Titan stumbled and slid, rose up, raking his long claws across Titan’s shoulder. An arc of blood sprayed, and one of the Mightypride cubs whimpered in fear.
Titan sprang up yet again, but he was growing tired, and he staggered. Mighty pressed his advantage. Eyes gleaming, he flung himself at his opponent, sinking his jaws into Titan’s shoulder blade. Titan howled with pain and rolled, but Mighty did not loosen his grip. His claws lodged deep into Titan’s flanks and as the black-maned lion struggled and kicked, he held him down with his massive weight.
Paws scrabbling, Titan gave a despairing snarl of fury. “I yield!”
“You what?” Mighty’s growl was muffled by a jawful of black mane.
“I yield!” roared Titan.
With a last hard swipe at his skull, Mighty released Titan and stepped back.
Fearless’s heart soared. Not only had Mighty won a noble and fair victory, he had accepted Titan’s surrender, in full view of his pride. Titan would live another day—and he was still Fearless’s to kill.
“Get off my territory,” growled Mighty to Titan, loud and clear. “Come back here, and you die.”
The black-maned lion flinched, glaring up at Mighty as he turned his rump and strode back to his pride. Fearless felt a fierce glow of triumph to see Titan beaten and cowed, head lowered in defeat—
Titan glanced up. In his eyes, spiteful glee flared. He’s acting! realized Fearless.
He roared a horrified warning. “Mighty, no! It’s a trick!”
But Titan had already moved, faster than Fearless would have believed possible. With the sudden speed and agility of a cheetah, he was on Mighty. Sinuous and powerful as a crocodile, he dragged the golden-maned lion down, rolling him, and his jaws opened wide.
Fearless barely had time to register the startled astonishment in Mighty’s eyes. The big lion didn’t even have time for fear. The jaws snapped and tore into his throat with the brutal efficiency of the croc-spirit inside Titan.
Blood spurted bright red in the sunlight. And Mighty collapsed to the earth with a sound like thunder, his life already draining, a dark and spreading stain on the yellow sand.
CHAPTER NINE
The bright, hot air of the savannah seemed motionless; like everything and everyone, silent with shock. For long moments, Fearless could hear not so much as the cry of a bird or the scratch of an insect. And then, the terrible stillness was shattered.
“NO!” Valor’s roar of grief resounded across the grassland. She sprang forward, the Valorcubs stumbling after her in bewilderment. A little way from Mighty’s body, Valor halted, her flanks heaving as she stared down at her lifeless mate.
“Mother?” squeaked the bolder Valorcub, flattening his ears in confusion. His shyer brother sidled to press against him, and both cubs blinked up in bewilderment at Valor.
“Is Father sleeping?” asked the timid cub.
Valor didn’t look down at them. Her whiskers bristled as she stared wide-eyed at Mighty, and her muzzle twisted with grief and fury. Fearless recalled the moment, as a slightly older cub himself, that he’d watched Gallant be killed.
The lions of Mightypride stalked to Valor’s side, gathering protectively around the grieving lioness. They growled, glaring their hatred at the victorious Titan. He, though, was not intimidated; he tossed his black mane, with a horrible grunting laugh that was almost crocodilian.
Heart thundering with anger, Fearless bounded to stand at their head, his eyes fixed on his enemy. Keen raced to his flank.
“You cheat and lie and play tricks, Titan Wolfpride,” snarled Fearless. “Again. You were beaten in fair combat. Mighty defeated you!”
Titan stood very still, studying the lions of Mightypride with cold amusement. His eyes slid to Mighty’s corpse.
“It doesn’t look like that to me,” he growled. His gaze flicked up again to survey the furious lions. “And now you are all Titanpride. You serve me.”
“Never,” roared Keen, striking the earth with his claws. “I speak for all of Mightypride when I tell you this: we will never follow you, Titan.”
“You won’t have to, Keen,” snarled Fearless. He took a bounding leap forward, so that he was glaring at Titan over the body of Mighty. “None of you even have time to become Titanpride. Because I’ll kill this evil, cheating coward, here and now!”
His muscles bunched and tightened, and his claws sprang from their sheaths. Exposing his fangs fully, he let out a roar that shook the plain. His own blood pounded in his ears.
And then, as he was about to leap at the tyrant, to put an end to him once and for all, he heard Keen’s warning cry resonate in the clear air.
“Wolves! Beware!”
Fearless turned his head from side to side, staring at the oncoming wolf pack. They came slowly, tongues lolling, their yellow eyes bright with glee. Spreading out, the wolves circled the lions of Mightypride, hemming them in.
Fearless caught Titan’s dark gaze, one last time. It was filled with contempt and scorn.
“Not today, Gallantbrat,” growled the black-maned lion. “Pride! Attack!”
The wolves rushed in, and Fearless spun to roar at Mightypride.
“Protect the cubs! Protect Valor!”
The Mightypride lions needed no urging. Already some of the lionesses were shepherding the youngsters away, to cower in the grass beneath the trees or shelter behind boulders. Other lionesses and young males advanced to meet the advancing wolves.
Red dust billowed up from the earth from the mass of frantic paws. The odds were in the lions’ favor, even though they were outnumbered five to one. But still Fearless felt a tremor of panic. The wolves became a mob of glittering eyes and teeth, drool flying from their jaws as they sprang. Snarling, the lions collided with them in a flurry of claws and fangs.
Fearless was almost blinded by the dust, but he lashed and snapped instinctively, spinning to snatch a wolf by its scrawny neck, shaking off another as soon as he felt its claws scrape his rump. He heard Keen give a roar of fury, and out of the dust cloud a wolf was flung at his forepaws, limp and glassy-eyed, its blood trickling into the earth. Fearless dodged, leaped over its corpse, and tore another wolf away from Glory’s rump. She twisted and seized its foreleg in her jaws as Fearless tore at its haunch, and between them they ripped it apart. Fearless did not pause to enjoy one small victory; he bounded ove
r the wolf’s shattered body and sprang at another.
The wolves—fueled by the spirits and strength of so many of their victims—seemed undeterred by the slaughter of their pack-mates. Wave after wave surged at the Mightypride lions, and despite the lions’ superior strength and size, Fearless realized they were being forced relentlessly back toward the acacias where the cubs sheltered. And it did not seem to matter how many wolves were thrown aside, dead or wounded; more of them rushed on, eager and slavering, taking the places of their dead comrades without, it seemed, a concern for their own lives.
“They’re trying to get the cubs!” panted Keen, as he snatched a moment beside Fearless to gather his breath.
Fearless had no time to reply; four more wolves were bolting toward them. But he knew Keen was right. It was customary for a new pride leader to kill his predecessor’s cubs; that was the way of lions. But to send these mad wolves to do it for him? Titan was completely heedless of honor or even of the most bloodthirsty traditions.
The Mightypride lions were fighting a battle for the future of their pride, though; and slowly, wolf by beaten wolf, they were gaining the upper paw. As the dust thinned and the noise of yelping and roaring subsided, Fearless realized that it was, quite suddenly, over. A few remaining wolves turned tail and fled, many of them limping or dragging their haunches; those would die soon, he knew, killed and eaten by their own pack. Wolf corpses littered the dry ground, which was stained dark with patches of blood. Many lions—himself included—bore bites and deep scratches, but no lions had died today.
Except for one. Fearless, panting for breath, padded over to where Mighty’s body lay. Valor had reached it before him; she crouched at her mate’s side, her head pressed to his shoulder. Titan was nowhere to be seen. But a new ragged wound had been ripped in Mighty’s chest, and Fearless saw that his heart had been torn from him. His own heart lurched within him.
“It can’t be true,” Valor was muttering as Fearless came to her side. “It can’t. It’s too wrong. His heart, Fearless.”
Crouching beside his sister, Fearless licked gently at her ear. “I’m so sorry, Valor.”