by Erin Hunter
“What is it? What’s—” Breaking through the undergrowth into the clearing, Thorn stopped short.
The Crown Guard stood around a captive baboon, their faces fierce and remorseless, their fists punched into the ground, their muscles tensed for any attempt at escape. “We’ve caught a Crookedtree spy!” shouted Root.
Thorn stared in disbelief at their cowering captive. He knew that scabby fur, and he recognized the pink scars on the palms that were outstretched in injured innocence. Most of all he knew those wide, fey, moon-dazed eyes.
Spider!
CHAPTER 18
Lying on the hard, dry ground next to Keen, Fearless could feel his fur prickling. It was the same sensation he’d been aware of for days; his head felt fuzzy from nights of disturbed sleep. It wasn’t a warning of immediate danger, he knew; there had been no scent or sight of Titanpride since they’d rescued Ruthless.
No: his unease was down to nothing but the mood of poisonous animosity that hung over his own pride. It buzzed in the air around the young lions like the maddening, ever-present flies. Lions would snap at their pride-mates for no obvious reason, and when an argument really took root, Fearless often thought it would end in bloody bites and scratches, or worse.
He and Keen had taken to relaxing some distance from the rest of the pride and hunting as a pair. He felt desperately sorry for Gracious, and would have taken her with them if only to make her feel better, but her wound was not healing as it should, and she no longer took part in hunts at all. Her face remained swollen, and Fearless did not like the way those claw marks smelled. At night he could hear hyenas barking nearby, as if they sensed the presence of a lamed victim, and vultures had taken to landing in the pride’s shade trees. Several flapped down there now, stretching their huge black wings as they clutched branches. One by one the birds settled, hunching to observe the lions below with beady black eyes.
The vultures were supposed to be sacred to the Great Spirit, Fearless knew. But as much as he’d respected the Spirit since his life with the baboons of Brightforest, he still knew his lion heritage. And lions had always seen the vultures for what they were: harbingers of death, and eaters of corpses.
Rising to his paws, he turned to the vultures and let out a deep, resonant roar. The biggest of them swiveled its bald head and eyed him; unhurried, it took off into the sky once again. Its companions followed its lead, their black wings beating lazily.
“I don’t like those things,” Fearless muttered to Keen as he lay back down. “At least, not here, and not right now.”
Keen yawned, showing his long fangs. “I know what you mean. We don’t want them hanging around Gracious. She’s going to get better soon, and she can chase them off herself.”
“I hope so.”
“The good news is, Ruthless looks a lot better.” Keen turned as the cub came bounding toward them. “Food will do that for a lion.”
“Food, and not being bullied by your own pride,” Fearless grunted. “Hello, Ruthless.”
The cub bent his head to nuzzle Fearless’s jaw. “Your pride is wonderful, Fearless. So much better than Titanpride! It’s a good place to live.”
So he was still oblivious to the tensions, thought Fearless with an inner sigh. “What have you been up to today, Ruthless?”
“Mighty’s been showing me the best trees for honing my claws,” said Ruthless proudly. “He knows a lot, doesn’t he?”
Fearless gave a noncommittal grunt and turned to peer at Mighty and Valor. Their heads were close together as they murmured to each other, and a shiver of resentment raised Fearless’s fur. Were they talking about him again? It was clear that Ruthless was smitten with Mighty now, just like the rest of the pride; a pity they didn’t see him as Fearless did. Mighty and his own sister lay with the others, at the heart of the pride, as if it were theirs.
Resentment surged inside Fearless. Why shouldn’t he claim his place there too? He didn’t want to look as if he was sulking, especially since he wasn’t. He belonged with Fearlesspride more than Mighty did. Getting to his paws, Fearless nudged Keen’s head.
“I’m going to join the others,” he growled.
As he padded toward them, Mighty and Valor stopped talking and pricked their ears, watching him. Had they been gossiping about him? Feeling a twinge of suspicion in his gut, Fearless walked on, ignoring the stares of the rest of the pride.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” he said a little sharply. “Carry on. What were you two talking about?”
Mighty and Valor exchanged a glance. “We might as well tell you,” said Valor. “We were just wondering if the pride should move on. Go somewhere safer, where Titanpride can’t reach us.”
Fearless bristled. “You two were discussing a decision like that? Without consulting your pride leader?”
“Yes,” said Valor calmly.
It was so enraging, Fearless could not even think of an appropriate retort. “Titanpride can reach us anywhere,” he snarled at last. “Don’t you understand anything?”
“Of course I do,” said Valor patiently. “But—”
“More to the point, we don’t want to be far away from them!” Fearless lashed his tail angrily. “If I’m to get my vengeance on Titan, I have to be in claw-reach of him, don’t I?”
Valor took a breath, as if she were holding on to her patience by a hair. “It would only be for a short while, Swiftbrother. Just until Gracious recovers, and we’re back at our full strength.”
“You need every single lion in the pride to confront Titan? Even the wounded ones?” snapped Fearless, tossing his head. “Are you afraid?”
“Of Titanpride? Yes. It would be stupid not to be. Are you calling me a coward?” Valor drew back her muzzle to expose her fangs, and her eyes narrowed to golden slits. “Because that, little brother, is a different accusation altogether.”
“Hey, hey.” Keen padded hesitantly between them. “Let’s not fight among—”
“Valor and Mighty are right,” interrupted Hardy, padding over from his place beside Rough and the cubs. “It would be wise to move on. We might find better hunting grounds, too. There’s not much growing here for the grass-eater herds.”
“I do know a good place,” put in Mighty, twitching his ears as he looked from one lion to the other. “It’s not more than two days’ walk from here. Plenty of prey, good defensive positions—”
“That’s enough!” With a roar, Fearless slapped his paw onto the ground, raising a cloud of dust. “This is my pride, not yours!”
Keen licked his jaws nervously. “Mighty’s only trying to help. . . .”
“Are you sure? It sounds to me as if he’s challenging me for the pride!” Fearless knew he was going too far, but he couldn’t stop himself. Rage seethed inside him like a river in spate.
“You’re still such a cub, Fearless,” sneered Valor, her fangs bared as she rose. “You and your vanity. Are you sure you’ve grown up at all? We know Fearlesspride is yours! The clue is in the name. Nobody’s out to get you, you paranoid fool!”
“Then why are you trying to thwart me?” he roared. “Titan killed our father!”
“Our father?” Valor took an aggressive pace forward, snarling. “Don’t you mean mine? Gallant could have beaten Titan in a fair fight, we both know that. But you? You’re still a cub, and you don’t even have his—” She stopped.
There was a horrible moment of silence, as heavy and ominous as a brewing storm on the savannah.
“Blood!” snapped Fearless bitterly. “That’s what you were going to say, Valor: I don’t have Gallant’s blood! And you’re right—as if it matters! Because I have Loyal’s!”
“Of course it doesn’t matter! You had a brave, strong father, but he isn’t here now to—”
“He’s not here, no, because he was killed by Titan too! Are you taunting me about who my father was?”
“That is not what I said! I just meant that somebody has to protect you, if only from yourself! And Loyal isn’t here anymore—”
>
“You are taunting me! And I don’t need protection!” His snarling jaws were almost touching Valor’s; he could feel her slaver on his face, and her hot angry breath, and he knew the reverse must be true.
But both their heads were abruptly butted apart as another lion sprang between them. Valor yelped in shock, stumbling; Mighty’s passing shoulder cracked against Fearless’s jaw, and he fell back, dazed.
“Calm down, both of you!” the big lion growled.
“Stay out of it, Mighty,” snarled Fearless, shaking his reeling head. There were hairs from the lion’s mane in his mouth, and he spat them out. “I’m in charge of this pride, and I’ll say what I like to its members.”
“Might be better if Mighty was in charge.” It was Rough’s voice; she had come to stand beside Hardy, and they were both listening intently to the squabble. Fearless froze.
He should be really, furiously angry now, he knew. But a Fearlesspride lion had spoken the unthinkable. The shock of it washed through him like a cold stream of water, draining his muscles of all their strength. He felt like a helpless, foolish cub again, crouching in shame as the grown lions stared at him with disapproval.
It was too much. Gathering himself, he peeled back his muzzle and let out another agonized roar. “If that’s what Mighty wants—if that’s what you all want—he can challenge me right here, right now!”
The silence that fell was as taut and tense as the muscles of his thrust-out chest. The whole savannah seemed to grow quiet and expectant; even the birds had stopped chirruping.
Then, to Fearless’s utter horror, the lions burst into laughter around him.
Not all of them, he realized: Keen stood in appalled silence, and Ruthless gazed at the scene in stupefied horror. But the rest laughed. They were still laughing.
“A challenge?” barked Hardy, his eyes watering.
“Mighty would eat most of you for breakfast and save the legs for supper!” That was Rough, barely able to contain her hilarity.
“Seriously, Fearless, don’t be silly.” Valor tried and failed to repress a hiccuping chuckle.
Mighty glanced at him and licked his jaws, his dark golden eyes apologetic. The remorseful pity in his face hurt Fearless worse than all the mockery of the others.
“Stop it, all of you,” rumbled Mighty. “Truly, Fearless, I don’t want to take your pride. Believe me! All I want to do is look after my—” He turned to Valor, hesitant.
“Your cubs,” she finished quietly, and took a pace to stand at Mighty’s side. She gazed at Fearless, her eyes softening. “I’m pregnant, Swiftbrother.”
Fearless opened his jaws, then shut them again with a snap. Valor had cubs in her belly? His sister was going to be mother to Mighty’s offspring?
He cleared his throat and shook his head. “That’s why you’ve been so secretive,” he rasped at last. “That’s why you’ve been all over each other, muttering together. First you kept your new mate from me, Valor. And now here’s another secret you didn’t tell me.” Something hot rose in his throat, and he gulped.
“I’m sorry, Fearless.” Valor twitched her tail. “But how am I supposed to tell you anything when this is how you react?”
Slowly, Fearless took a pace back, then another. Realization sank through him, chilling his blood and making him feel sick. I can’t lead now. My pride isn’t mine anymore. We can’t go on.
His voice was hoarse. “Mighty isn’t going anywhere, is he?”
“No,” said Valor softly. “Of course he isn’t. Fearless, don’t say something you’ll regret—”
“He has to stay to care for his cubs,” Fearless went on, as if she hadn’t spoken. “And that means the tension in this pride is never going to get better.”
“Fearless, you’re causing the tension,” murmured Valor. “Not Mighty. Can’t you see that?”
“You know the worst thing? I can see why you all admire him.” Fearless circled, staring for a long moment at each member of his pride. “Who wouldn’t? Mighty doesn’t even have to make a formal challenge. He’s the leader of this pride just by being here.”
Wordless, they all stared at him. Hardy looked slightly contemptuous; Rough and Tough rolled their eyes at each other, but they looked awkward and embarrassed. Keen wore an expression of tormented sympathy.
“I can’t stay,” said Fearless suddenly. “I can’t stand it. I’m sorry.”
“Fearless, you can’t leave!” exclaimed Rough. “Look, we’re sorry you feel this way—”
“That’s not the point,” he growled. “It’s not a matter of feelings. I simply can’t stay where I’m not wanted, where I’m not even necessary. I’m leaving the pride.”
Valor growled in exasperation. “No one wants you to leave, Fearless! Can’t you just stay with the pride and prove your worth, like lions do?”
He shook his head rapidly. “Maybe I’m not all lion after all; maybe I stayed too long with the baboons. But I’m sorry, Valor. I can’t stay. Not in Mightypride.”
Mighty simply stared at Fearless as the siblings argued back and forth. His dark eyes were mystified. Fearless couldn’t bear his gentle condescension.
“Good-bye,” he said curtly. “I’m sorry, all of you. I’ll leave now.”
“I’m coming with you,” exclaimed Keen, bounding to his side.
“And so am I.” Ruthless padded forward, looking bewildered but determined. “I don’t really know what’s happening, and I’m sorry if I caused it. But I’m loyal to Fearless, and I’m going with him.”
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” muttered Valor. “But we can’t stop you, can we?”
“No,” said Fearless. “This is the only way for me now.” He tilted up his head, clenching his jaw, then nodded jerkily to each member of his pride.
If he didn’t walk away right now, he knew, the humiliation would be even worse. Turning, Fearless stalked away across the dry grassland, his muscles so tense that only the tip of his tail twitched to betray his turmoil. He hadn’t even managed to choke out his thanks to Keen and Ruthless, but he could hear them anyway, padding after him, their pawsteps soft on the dusty earth.
He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He could not bear to watch his pride grow distant, shrinking until they were lost in the haze of heat that simmered over Bravelands. His pride. It wasn’t even that anymore.
All his efforts, all his struggles and disappointments and joys: they had all been for nothing in the end. Fearlesspride was finished.
CHAPTER 19
Dawn was spilling over the horizon ahead as Sky and Rock emerged from the forest where they had made their promise. On Sky’s shoulders, she felt Nimble shiver, then shake out his furry mantle. The night’s chill was already warming to the rays of the sun, and its sparkling light gilded the grass of the savannah; birds chorused in the trees, greeting the morning with a swelling harmony of chirruping, liquid trilling and coos.
The glow of the sunrise was echoed by a deep warmth of contentment in Sky’s heart. She had no doubts, no moments of asking herself what she had done; the commitment to Rock was the right thing, she was absolutely certain of it. This simple, profound happiness was a wonderful contrast to all the doubts and fears and losses of the last few seasons; it was something she knew she could hold on to in her heart forever.
They walked on in an easy silence, needing no words; apart from the birdsong the savannah was peaceful. So when the ground began to tremble beneath her feet, Sky gave a start.
She halted, frowning slightly. “Do you feel that, Rock?”
He didn’t reply. His head came up a little more, and his ears twitched forward.
The vibrations were becoming a low, grumbling thunder. Sky tensed: it could only be elephants. Could it be her own family? But the Striders had headed in the opposite direction entirely; what would they be doing this far west? And these elephants were running—she could feel the ground shake harder with every moment.
Rock’s ears flapped in anxiety. “I think that’s a herd of bull elephant
s.”
“That probably isn’t good—” began Sky, but he interrupted quickly.
“We should avoid them,” he growled. “Bulls can be unpredictable. Let’s—”
But it was too late. The herd appeared over the next ridge, thundering diagonally across their path. Their great gray legs were almost obscured by a massive rising cloud of yellow dust, but their tusks glinted in the morning light, long and sweeping and curved. They were huge, Sky realized with a tremor in her belly; some of them were far bigger even than Rock. On Sky’s back, she felt Nimble shiver with fear; his sister cowered as low as she could between Rock’s shoulder blades.
A small watering hole shimmered some distance to their right; that was clearly where the bulls were heading, and they took no notice of Sky and Rock, to her shuddering relief. But Sky couldn’t help staring as they milled and splashed at the pool’s edges, spraying their parched skin, pouring trunkfuls of water down their throats, rolling their vast bodies until the watering hole was churned to red mud.
“Come on,” rumbled Rock in a low voice. “We should leave.”
“Yes,” agreed Sky with feeling. “Follow me.”
But as she shambled into a brisk walk, aiming her path to give the bulls a wide berth, a bellowing trumpet resounded through the still air.
Sky froze, one foot raised. She took a breath and cocked one ear back.
“Sky, what?” said Rock urgently.
She swiveled her head toward the bulls. “I know that voice! But it can’t be—”
The call rang out again, more insistent this time. It sounded eager, questioning. “Sky?”
“Boulder?” she breathed.
It had been so long since she had heard his voice, but surely she recognized it. Even if her ears weren’t certain, the rest of her body seemed to be: a thrill of recognition and gladness rippled through her blood.
“Nimble,” she murmured excitedly, lowering her trunk. “Hop down, little one. I need to go see a rather big elephant! Stay in that clump of thornbush, I’ll come back very soon.”
Surprised, the little cheetah scrambled down, and his sister shuffled backward down Rock’s trunk to join him. They both huddled under the bush and watched Sky with curiosity.