Shadow of Makei cotpl-3

by John H. Burkitt

  “Thou in me and I in thee. Come together let us be!”

  She rolled over on her back, her breath coming and going in short gasps. Reaching out with a paw, she touched the spirit of Melmokh.

  A wave of revulsion filled her as she felt a sensation akin to swallowing a mouthful of spiderwebs. Fighting the urge to vomit, she pulled back hastily, breaking contact and opening her eyes wide in a shriek of horror. The next several breaths she drew in escaped as cries of pain and despair. “Oh my God! It’s evil! It’s evil!”

  She got up and ran around in tight little circles as if chasing her tail, the hackles raised along her back. “Help us, Roh’kash! Help us! Great Mother, we’re all being led to Hell! Save us, God!”

  The false Roh’kash jumped up with a start. “Who dared! Who dared touch me!!”

  The followers were all at a distance and looked around at each other. “Great Mother, no one touched you!”

  “Not with a paw, stupid!” Melmokh shot a glance at the hapless hyena and he jumped, yelping in pain. The others fell on the ground rolling over and reaching out with a paw. “Mercy, Great Mother! Mercy!”

  With a look of ultimate rage, his hackles raised, Melmokh ran out of the circle and began running around the elephant graveyard looking for the source of the pain. But it was too late--Makhpil had released her without betraying her own thoughts.

  Makhpil ran to Ber and fell before him. “Okhim Ber,” she gasped, “I’ve seen the devil himself! I’ll do anything to help you, anything!”

  Ber nuzzled her and rubbed her face with his paw. “Blessed bak’ret, daughter of Roh’kash, may the true God reward your faith!”

  She knew that the Roh'kash was false. She could not hide that from Shimbekh, who had her own doubts, but could not be sure.

  It was Shimbekh that Melmokh suspected, and so as Roh’kash, he persuaded Roh’mach Shenzi to order Shimbekh to give false prophesy. If she refused, she would be killed. If she did not refuse, she would be psychically blind. Either way, Melmokh would preserve his dark heart from the sight of the others.

  Meekly, Shimbekh considered the life of her new daughter and put Makhpil’s welfare before her own. And she lied to Taka about his chosen heir, even as she was commanded.

  Cut off from her spirit husband and unable to reach her daughter’s heart except through talking, she sank into a deep depression. It was a frightening kind of aloneness. From time to time she would beg Makhpil to take messages to Brin’bi as if he lived in a different land far, far away. When Makhpil explained to her mother who the false Roh’kash was, she bit her own leg till the blood ran down. “So it wasn’t Gur’mekh who led to our downfall. It was me! Oh gods, it was me! I could have stopped this!”

  Shimbekh began to grow gaunt and ill kept, looking as she did after the vision of Gur’mekh. Makhpil had to beg her to eat--each bite was a concession to Shimbekh’s love for her daughter, for she did not want to go on living.

  Then one day Makhpil prophesied that joy awaited Shimbekh at the gorge. It was the hope that she was looking for.

  Shimbekh told Makhpil that as the one remaining seer she had to take care of herself and keep prophesy alive among the people if they were ever to survive. Determined to repair what she had done, she went to Uzuri and confessed her full load of guilt. Uzuri was not psychically gifted, but she could see the sincerity in her eyes and took the message to heart. It awakened hope in her spirit.

  Shimbekh then went to the gorge. “Great Mother, I have sinned. I have tried to out guess your will and it will not be through me that the suffering will end. But have mercy on me. I have confessed my guilt, and I only ask for my husband back. Please?”

  Then looking off the edge, standing far out on a cloud, she saw her husband. She was so overwhelmed that she almost lost her footing.

  "It's time for us to be together," he said. He sensed the rage of Melmokh at the edge of his awareness, and saw the assassins the false Roh’kash had dispatched to rid himself of Shimbekh. Brin’bi shook his head sorrowfully. He looked at Shimbekh and forced a smile for her sake. “Our time is soon, love.”

  “Our time is now.” Without removing her gaze from his, Shimbekh backed up and launched herself into the open space of the gorge. Without a sound she plummeted, caroming off the rock wall and beginning to tumble through the air. She closed her eyes, not feeling the pain as her body was terribly abused by the unforgiving walls of the gorge. Brin’bi stood there in her mind, a look of surprise on his face as he saw her descend. Her eyes opened and she saw the ground rushing up at her with terrible finality.

  “Brin’bi,” she murmured, and was silenced forever.

  Makhpil was expected to be saddened by the death of her mother. Instead Makhpil seemed to grow in beauty and spirit, showing signs of joy and optimism for the future. Only Amarakh knew that her life had changed for the better, for now her mother and father were together again, inseparable, and the three of them went on with their life with very little change.

  CHAPTER 63: THE MEETING

  “SHE’S GONNA EAT MEEE!!”

  Simba’s ears twitched violently at the sound of the scream behind him. “Oh gods!” Turning about, he began to sprint, praying with all his heart he would arrive in time. As he neared, he heard the distinct snarl of a lioness closing in for the kill, and the sound was familiar indeed. His eyes narrowed as he rounded a corner and saw Pumbaa wedged under a tree root, scrabbling desperately for release.

  That damned Sasha lied to me, he thought. Well, we’ll see who gets thrown out of whose territory NOW!

  A terrible snarl erupted from him as he leapt over the root, floating through the air in a graceful leap. He descended rapidly, crashing down with terrifying force in front of the lioness as she slid to a stop, a look of total surprise on her face. Simba lashed out, snarling, noting that this was not Sasha after all, but another lioness, much younger, in fact. No matter.

  Timon leapt with joy as Simba joined battle with a fury that shook the earth. “Get her! Bite her head!” He capered atop Pumbaa’s rump gleefully as the two titans thrashed about, paws whipping through the air in an awesome display of chained fury.

  The lioness backed back, claws whipping around in an effort to lash his face, but his mane deflected the blows as he closed in. Gathering himself, Simba launched himself at her, jaws spreading as he prepared to seize her throat--

  --and then he gave a startled “WHUFF!” of surprise as her feet sank into his belly, knocking the wind from him. The world spun crazily, and he found himself lying on his back, the lioness pinning him to the ground, her hot breath billowing in his face as she bared her fangs at his throat. Stricken, sure he would be dead in a few more seconds, he looked up to meet her gaze...and saw the brilliant green eyes staring into his.

  He had seen those eyes in a thousand dreams. “Nala?!”

  The snarling grimace of the lioness vanished, her face transforming from awesome rage into awesome beauty. Her jaw dropped and she backed away, crowding into a tree trunk and staring at the stranger before her. “Is it really you?”

  She gazed at him suspiciously. Was it possible that Taka would send someone to follow her? Nonsense. A male such as this he would have killed outright, or at least driven off. “Who are you?”

  “It’s me! Simba.”

  “Simba?” The name rolled oddly off her tongue as she looked at him. Funny, she had known a cub by the same name when she was a child...her eyes widened as she looked into his face and SAW him, oh gods, he was ALIVE!

  “WHOAAAAW! A simultaneous explosion of joy erupted from the two as they rubbed heads together in greeting, filling the air with a cacophony of confused questions.

  “But how did you--”

  “It’s GREAT to see you!”

  “It’s good to see YOU!”

  “I thought you were--”

  “HEY! WHAT’S GOIN’ ON HERE?!”

  Simba grinned and introduced his companions to Nala, chuckling at Timon’s utter confusion. His mirth was short lived,
as Nala looked at him, her face serious.

  “Wait till everyone finds out you’ve been HERE all this time! And your mother...what will she think?”

  Simba felt a mad rush of panic that nearly overwhelmed him. “She doesn’t have to know. Nobody has to know.”

  “Of course they do! Everyone thinks you’re dead!”

  He looked at her, shocked. “They do?”

  “Yeah.” She lowered her gaze sadly. “Scar told us about the stampede.” She glanced up tentatively, afraid to meet his gaze.

  Simba was awash with cold fear. “He did? What else did he tell you?”

  “What else matters?! You’re alive! And that means...” she looked at him, a new look of awe on her face mixed with newborn hope. “You’re the king.”

  Simba froze into immobile stillness. He watched numbly as Timon and Pumbaa transformed before his eyes, looking at him like some new kind of insect they’d never seen before. Before Timon could embroil himself into an argument with Nala, he sighed deeply. “Maybe you’d better go.”

  Timon gaped. “It starts. You THINK you know a guy...”

  Simba watched them leave, then grinned shamefacedly at Nala. “Timon and Pumbaa. You learn to love ‘em.” He fell silent as he saw Nala with her back to him, looking as if she might begin weeping at any moment. He went to her and leaned against her shoulder comfortingly. “What? What is it?”

  “It’s like you’re back form the dead,” she said quietly. “You don't know what this will mean to everyone. What it means to me--” Her voice threatened to betray her, and she silenced herself as years of dreams and hopes, things she had long forgotten and buried away in her mind now clamored for attention. She remembered playing with him long ago, cub games in the sweet grass fields of the Pride Lands where time stood still.

  Simba nuzzled her tentatively. “Hey. It’s okay.”

  Shaking with the years of memories that threatened to burst forth, she buried her head in his mane, rubbing her cheek firmly against him. “I’ve really missed you.”

  CHAPTER 64: CAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE TONIGHT?

  The water cascaded over the edge of the rocks, rolling smoothly into the deep pool at the foot of the falls, the frothy spume spraying into the air and wetting the coats of the two lions who picked their way along the rocks.

  Simba followed Nala across the natural bridge, pausing to shake the cool droplets from his coat, making a miniature rainbow in the air as he dried himself. He joined her at a still pool where she was bending to take a drink. He was not the least bit thirsty, but at a loss as what else to do, he leaned over the water and took a couple of swallows, his eyes on the lioness across from him. He was unable to believe his friend had found him again! He had missed his family dearly, but there was something special about Nala...

  She glanced up and caught him staring at her, and he stopped drinking, raising his head in alarm and embarrassment. But she merely smiled at him and bent to the pool again. "She doesn't know," he thought. "Else she wouldn't smile at me like that. Oh gods, what am I going to tell her?" He looked away from her, the shame dousing the joy he had felt.

  Nala lapped at the cold water daintily, enjoying the liquid as she soothed her parched throat. The trip across the desert had been exhausting, and after that high speed pursuit of Pumbaa that had nearly ended in disaster, she was fairly desperate for a drink. Curious that her friend had taken up with a warthog, of all creatures. What Simba saw in that-

  She glanced up at her friend and stopped in mid-drink, shocked at the look of absolute sadness in his features. Worried, she lifted her head, intending to ask him what was wrong, but Simba saw her glance up and immediately brightened, the mask of despair vanishing as if it had never been. He stepped to the edge of the pool, then tensed his haunches and leapt gracefully over to her side, smiling enigmatically as he passed. Nala turned to look at him, thoroughly confused. What in the world was he up to now-

  Her eyes widened in surprise as he ran past, a vine clutched tight in his jaws, soaring out over the pool to land in its center with a terrific splash. She watched, at first amused, then alarmed as the ripples of his landing disappeared and he still showed no sign of surfacing. She padded to the edge and looked about anxiously, looking for any sign of him.

  The water in front of her erupted, spraying her thoroughly as Simba rose and clasped her around the shoulders in a hug. She started to smile and ask him if this was his way of saying hello when she felt her balance shift alarmingly.

  "Oh gods," she thought. "He's not doing what I think he is-"

  But he was indeed. Simba's weight pulled her forward and down into the icy water with a tremendous splash. The lion surfaced, a grin on his face as he watched Nala scramble from the water, gasping, and huddle in a wet crouch, her teeth chattering. She made no move to rejoin him, and his smile wilted a little as he realized he might have stepped over the line. He pulled himself from the water, the cool liquid running from his mane in small streams as he went to her, a concerned look on his features.

  Nala waited until he was next to her, then with a wry grin she shoved him playfully back into the water. "Gotcha!" she thought, laughing delightedly. She shook herself, then trotted away as Simba climbed from the water again, a grin on his face. Another laugh escaped her as she dodged among the trees, her friend in full pursuit of her and bent on revenge. She twisted agilely through a dense thicket, chuckling as she heard Simba smash through the debris.

  "Clumsy!" she yelled at him.

  "Oh, yeah?!" He grinned and put on a burst of speed as they entered a lush meadow, the late afternoon sun glinting through the trees as he drew nearer. She plunged into the undergrowth on the far side of the clearing and turned to face him, rising on her rear legs and pawing at him playfully. He laughed, rearing up to meet her and throwing his forepaws around her shoulders, his extra weight overbalancing them both and sending them tumbling down the hillside to slide to a stop at the bottom.

  Nala giggled up at him, and he responded by bursting into laughter, the sound sweet and joyous to her ears. He had seemed so sad, back at the pond, but all her worries dissipated as she looked up at his contented face. She felt a warm rush of feeling, looking at his features, slightly amazed at how handsome he had become. The rough and tumble cub she had played with as a child had burst forth with a beautifully flowing mane, and his body, while lean in some places, was fully formed and muscular. Yet his face still held that wonderful, innocent look she knew well from their cubhood. His body was warm against hers, and the comforting pressure of his weight resting on her sent tingles up and down her spine.

  Nala reached up with a forepaw, draping it over the back of his neck. Pulling him to her, she bent forward and kissed his cheek, a long, passionate lick that ceased his laughter and brought a surprised look to his face.

  Simba stared down at Nala, feeling the tingle from her kiss spreading through him like ripples in a pond. She looked up at him, her eyes half-opened and giving him a look that sent fire racing through his belly. He bent to her and nuzzled her, and she responded, rising up to bury her face in his mane and purring deeply, the thrumming sound carrying clear in the still evening air. "Nala," he whispered.

  She said nothing, still purring low in her chest as she sat up and nuzzled him again, her side making heavy contact with his as she rubbed against him. Nala circled him slowly, her tail coiling around his hind legs as she moved up his other side and nuzzled his neck again. Lifting her head, she nibbled the edge of his ear playfully.

  He took a ragged breath and blew it out forcefully. "Oh gods, what's wrong with me?"

  "What is it?"

  He stood unsteadily, his legs splayed wide, limbs trembling with unreleased tension. "I feel so strange." His eyes looked searchingly into hers, the fear and confusion clear through the haze of desire.

  She kissed him again, and he felt her tremble slightly, and saw the wonder in her own eyes. " I think you're supposed to," she said, a tremulous laugh escaping her. She nuzzled him again under t
he chin, then walked away towards the edge of the glade. Simba followed her slowly, a pace behind, his gaze fixed as he drank in her beauty. Nala hesitated, then crouched slowly, looking back over her shoulder at him with fear and desire warring in her eyes. “Simba? I...”

  “Shhh.” He stood close, unable to tear his eyes away from her, the moonlight slicing through the trees overhead and haloing her face in silver ethrealness.

  “Beloved,” he whispered, and went to her.

  CHAPTER 65: CONFRONTATION

  Simba padded along the path slowly, Nala’s weight resting pleasurably on his shoulder as they walked. A contented purr continued to rumble through her chest, and he echoed it as he nuzzled her behind her ear. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  “Yes.” She giggled and kissed him on the cheek. “But thank you for saying so.” She studied his face in profile as they threaded their way through some dense greenery. His face was so gentle, like his mother’s, and the set of his jaw and the slight smile brought back memories of Mufasa. But his eyes...oh gods, his eyes...her smile faded as she looked at him. Simba was studying the waterfall that lay across the valley from them, his smile forgotten, almost an afterthought, now. The deep mask of sadness that she had glimpsed at the pool had returned full force. The amber eyes that the other lionesses had commented on in his cubhood were so empty and devoid of feeling that it made her shiver. And the worst of it was, there was still something left in there, buried deep down. She had seen it back there when she first kissed him. Her old friend was still in there, in that well of sadness, and she wondered if she might ever bring him to the light of day again.

  Her jaw quivering, she buried her head in his mane, unwilling to let him see the tears that threatened to burst forth.