Rafiki shuddered at the thought. Wild Dogs come through from time to time. "Aiheu forbid. I will try." Gathering his staff, he clambered gingerly down to the ground. "Lead on, my friend. I'll hurry as fast as I'm able."

Simba thought for a split second, then crouched down. "Wait, I'll carry you; we'll make better time that way."

“I would not insult your dignity like that, ” Rafiki said, clearly nervous.

Simba snorted in amusement. "You didn't seem so concerned with my dignity that night you whacked me on the head, old friend."

The mandrill shuffled his feet, embarrassed. "That was different." Looking at the stretch of ground between himself and Pride Rock, he sighed resignedly. "Bend down.” He meandered over to the lion and hesitantly climbed onto Simba's broad shoulders. He clutched a lock of mane tightly in one fist as the King stood up.

"Ouch! " Simba hissed. "Easy."

Rafiki loosed his grip, but only lightly. He felt the weight underneath him shift powerfully as the lion broke into a lope. The mandrill watched breathlessly as the wind whipped through his hair. It was the fastest he’d ever travelled, and unable to help himself, he whooped aloud.

Simba said, "I knew you'd like it."

Rafiki laughed at him unsteadily. "Like it? I'm scared to death! "

Khemoki, Incosi of the Zebra'ha, shook his head violently, trying to rid himself of the bothersome flies.

Then he saw something that made him forget the flies. Simba headed toward him at a dead run, an old mandrill on his back making the most horrible screeching noise. “Oh my Lord! ” Khemoki cleared out of the way just in time.

He headed to find his mare who was having a good roll in the dust, oblivious to the whole episode.

“I say, Whinnyfred. I just saw the most extraordinary thing! Simba being ridden by that Rafiki chap! ”

“What?”

“I tell you, Whinny old girl, this neighborhood is going down. Down, I say, and I wouldn’t be surprised what mischief that old ape will work next. Not our sort, you know.”

“Oh Khemoki, you haven’t been hitting the Throckberries, have you?”

“Throckberries? Don’t be ridiculous. Bosh, I tell you. Besides, it’s too early in the day. Whinny, there’s something not quite right here. I think that ape is taking over.”

“Him?”

“And why not? He dabbles in the uncivilized arts, you know. I think we have a situation developing, and by jove I plan to keep a close eye on it. We don’t want to end up on the losing side.”

Unaware of the commotion behind him, Rafiki glanced down to see the ground blurring by in a mix of greens and browns. Suddenly nauseous, he closed his eyes, feeling the enormous muscles underneath him rippling in regular rhythm. Abruptly, their pace changed, and he opened his eyes to see a shallow trench approaching fast. Simba gathered his muscles under himself and leapt. Rafiki watched in horror as the world rotated lazily in front of him, sky and earth exchanging places as he sailed over Simba's head to come to rest nose to nose with the lion, a lock of mane still clutched tightly in either hand.

Simba jerked wildly. "Rafiki, what are you doing?! I can't see! "

The mandrill looked into the amber eyes inches away from his own and moaned. “Mumsie was right, ” he thought. “I should have stayed at home with my brothers instead of becoming a shaman.”

Simba flicked his head gracefully, sending the poor mandrill flying back over his head to plunk down solidly onto his back again. Rafiki seized hold even tighter, despite Simba's protests, and held on for dear life, muttering a prayer of thanks as he saw the foot of Pride Rock before them. Without slowing, Simba trotted up the slope to the promontory, finally stopping and allowing his passenger to dismount.

Rafiki slid off his back and stumbled forward on his weakened legs. "Thank you, Simba. You honor me greatly."

Simba shrugged. "Maybe we can do it again sometime.” He looked in the cave. “Isha?"

The lioness trotted out of the cave, looking hopeful, but her face fell when she saw no sign of her cub.

"Isha, my poor dear, " Rafiki said, hugging her neck. "Do not fret. We will find your child."

Rafiki took his staff and scrying bowl, then sat cross-legged on the ground. The gourd on his staff was full of water, and he pulled the stopper, pouring its contents into the bowl.

“Isha, do you have anything that he might have touched or played with in the past day or so? An old bone, perhaps?"

"No, he doesn't play with toys very much; he likes to pounce and wrestle more than anything else."

Rafiki frowned. "Hmm. That will make it more difficult; I don't think I'll be able to find him without something."

Isha said, “How about some dead grass? I made him a soft place to sleep."

He paused, stroking the flowing white hair which grew from his chin. "Yes. Yes indeed."

She brought a small mouthful of dry grass, but he only took a few strands. She watched closely as he dropped the grass into the bowl, where it floated about in a small circle. Isha and Simba peered over his shoulder with interest as Rafiki made a short prayer asking the gods for guidance and protection. Bending over the bowl, Rafiki stirred it slightly with a finger, studying intently the patterns the ripples made as they bounced off the grass in the bowl and rebounded to the sides. Abruptly, he hunched over, mouth agape. “Makpelah the Circle. He lives.”

Simba sighed with relief as Isha sank to the ground. "Aiheu be praised, " she whispered. "Where is he?"

Rafiki scratched his head. "I don't know; the signs are so confused and mixed up. All my knowledge tells me that he's alive, yet... I see a skull also. Very strange."

Isha's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, no."

"The child Habusu lives yet, I tell you. The rest I don't know." He looked at the bowl, pondering. "Let me try again."

He bent over the bowl, stirring the water gently. He leaned over it, his wizened face only inches from the water's surface. “This is interesting....”

"Hey, your Majesty! " called a shrill voice. Startled, Rafiki jumped, sending the bowl and its contents flying. Simba looked down to see Shenzi at the foot of Pride Rock. "I would most HUMBLY request an audience with you."

Simba walked to the edge of the promontory. "I am occupied just now. Send the Roh’mach to see me later. I will talk with him."

Simba turned his back, intent on rejoining the others, when Shenzi called after him. “Ah, such a warm and caring king you are, to abandon one of your own out in the wilderness."

He jerked his head around. "What??"

"Our new Roh'mach speaks of cooperation and understanding, " she sneered. "And yet when we offer our services, you spurn us! "

His eyes bored into hers. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "What services?"

"Why, our help in finding your lost cub."

Simba's jaw dropped in disbelief.

Nala rushed up beside him, eyes burning with rage. "Who told you?? How did you know that??"

Shenzi tittered. "Oh, I keep my ear to the ground, dearie. Word travels fast when the King's disturbed."

“A little too fast, ” Nala retorted.

"I didn't come here to be insulted, Your Majesty." Shenzi looked at Nala balefully. "We offered our help, and you responded with thinly veiled accusations." She sighed, pained. "I just hope the dear doesn't suffer to much when the wild dogs find him. They DO love to tear their prey to pieces while it's still alive."

"Enough, ” Simba grated. "All right, Shenzi. In the spirit of cooperation, we would gratefully accept any help you offer."

"Of course, in the spirit of cooperation, " she said, frowning. "I would HATE to think of what would happen to the poor dear if we WEREN’T on good terms with each other, wouldn't you?"

Simba stood silently as he digested her words. To think that the life of their cub depended on the goodwill of that creature standing below... Simba closed his eyes as a shudder traveled slowly down his spine. Then he met her gaze directly.