The Lion King Live Action Novelization Read online

  “We’ve all been there. And it’s no place for a cub,” he said.

  At the word cub, Simba grimaced. But Scar’s next words distracted him all over again. “All those rotting bones and burning pools of oozing mud…”

  “Rotting bones…Oozing mud?” Simba felt as though he were about to leap out of his skin. He wanted to go there—now.

  Scar held up a paw. “Promise me you’ll stay away, Simba,” he said solemnly. “Now you run along.” Reaching out, he gave Simba a little push. Simba tried to turn back but his uncle didn’t budge. Lowering his head, Simba sighed and began to make his way up toward Pride Rock. Just as he reached the path, he heard Scar call out his name. Turning back hopefully, Simba saw his uncle still standing where he had left him. “Remember,” Scar called out. “It’s our little secret. Your Majesty.” With a nod, the older lion turned and slunk back into his den.

  Our little secret, Simba repeated to himself. He could keep the secret. He wouldn’t tell anyone that he had spent time with Scar or that he had learned what lay in the shadows near the horizon. Well, he wouldn’t tell almost anyone. Because there was someone he definitely had to tell—when he convinced her to go with him to see the graveyard!

  Nala lay on her stomach, itching to move. Her mother, Serafina, was in the middle of giving her a bath—and Nala hated baths. She wanted to be out playing with the other cubs, or even better, she wanted to find her best friend, Simba, and do something with him. Maybe go to the watering hole? Play a game of catch the tail on the lion cub? Practice pouncing? But instead, she had gotten snatched up by her mother and was now being forced to sit still while every inch of her golden fur was licked. Her mother liked to pay special attention to the white markings that made Nala’s coat unusual—and beautiful.

  Nala had to admit, though, it felt kind of nice. It was part of her daily routine, and while she sometimes wished she didn’t have to do everything her mother told her to do, being a cub was mostly pretty great. It meant she could play when she wanted and get meals whenever she was hungry, and she could always sleep tucked up next to her mother inside the safety of the den. Being part of Mufasa’s pride was special, and Nala knew that. It was what she had been taught since she was born. Only days younger than Simba, she and the future king had grown up together, and when he was taught a lesson, so was she. When he learned about the kingdom, so did she. It was almost as if her mother had been grooming her to be a royal. The thought made Nala laugh. Her? Royalty? That would be the day.

  Hearing footsteps at the entrance to the den, Nala lifted her head. A smile spread over her face as she saw Simba’s curious eyes scanning the den for her. She tried to signal to him, but Serafina pushed her paw down and licked harder. Luckily, Simba spotted her anyway.

  “Nala!” Simba shouted as he raced over. “Come on! We have to go!”

  “Where?” Nala said, trying to move and not having much luck.

  Simba looked like he was going to jump out of his skin with excitement. Nala smiled as he danced in front of her, unable to stop his tail from twitching. His brown eyes were wide and his ears moved back and forth. He turned and pointed out of the den. “The watering hole!” he said, as if that were the obvious answer.

  Before Nala could reply, Serafina shook her head. “Nala is having her bath,” she said. To prove it, she resumed her licking.

  “And it’s time for yours.”

  Looking over, Nala saw Simba’s mother, Sarabi, entering the den. Her own coat was dusty, but it didn’t stop her from looking regal. She was a huge lioness, bigger than Serafina, with a wide head and large, knowing eyes. Nala had always been a little in awe of her. As queen, it was Sarabi’s duty to provide for the lionesses and cubs. Mufasa helped, but Sarabi carried the majority of the weight on her strong shoulders. Nala knew her mother was Sarabi’s best friend and right hand when it came to hunting. She hoped to someday be as fierce as both of them.

  As Simba protested, Sarabi lifted him by the scruff of his neck and sat down on a nearby ledge. She began to lick him, her rough tongue ridding his fur of the dirt from his earlier adventure outside. Finally, he broke free. “See—all clean,” he said, twirling in front of Sarabi. “Can we go?”

  Sarabi raised her nose and sniffed the air.

  “There’s no hyenas,” Simba said, realizing what she was doing. “You just chased them all off!”

  Nala looked up to see if Sarabi would snap at Simba, but instead, she saw the lioness trying to hide a smile. Simba was hard to argue with. “Just to the watering hole—no further,” she finally said, nodding in agreement.

  “Go through the high grass,” Serafina said, releasing Nala from her grasp. Jumping to her feet, Nala raced over to join Simba. She waggled her eyebrows in excitement, and together, the cubs turned to go.

  But Sarabi wasn’t done yet. “Stay downwind,” she said. “And one more little thing…Zazu will be going with you.”

  At the same time, Nala and Simba let out groans of dismay. Taking the bird with them would take all the fun out of whatever adventure Simba had in mind. Because if Nala knew one thing, it was Simba. And she knew he was up to something. He would tell her, but with Zazu along, she would probably have to wait.…

  “So, where are we really going?”

  As they had been told to, Simba and Nala were making their way through the high grass of the savannah. The sun warmed their backs and the ground underfoot was still soft from the wet season rains. Too soon, it would bake under the unrelenting sun, turning the ground hard and painful to walk on. But for now, it was enjoyable. And other than the sound of Zazu’s off-key humming as he flew above them, it was also quite peaceful.

  At Nala’s question, Simba looked over, surprised. She was always doing that to him—guessing when he had something up his sleeve. “How did you know?” he whispered, not wanting to catch Zazu’s attention.

  Nala raised an eyebrow. “You hate the water,” she said.

  Simba nodded. She had a point. He did hate the water, and he usually had to be dragged kicking and screaming to the watering hole. “I heard about this place, Nala,” he said. “The most incredible, amazing—”

  “Just tell me where!” Nala said, cutting him off.

  Simba smiled. That was one of the things that made Nala his best friend—she was always up for anything. “An elephant graveyard.”

  “How far is it?” she asked.

  “Not far,” Simba said, though he realized he wasn’t exactly sure how far away the shadows were. “But don’t worry—everyone’s been there.”

  For the first time, Nala looked slightly nervous. “What if we get lost?”

  Simba pushed ahead, brushing the grass out of his way. It was thinning out as they approached the watering hole. He didn’t want to admit it out loud, but he had wondered the same thing. Getting lost sounded scary.…Still, he couldn’t sound weak or scared in front of Nala. After all, he was the future king. And Scar had said everyone had been there. There was probably a path or something. “Relax, Nala,” he said. “I patrolled the entire kingdom this morning with my dad. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Well, there is one thing.” Nala lifted her head toward Zazu.

  The bird was flying in circles, anxiously scanning the area in front of, behind, and to the sides of him—repeatedly. “We have an imminent threat!” he suddenly screeched. Both cubs stopped in their tracks. “Something is approaching. Wait—” Zazu’s eyes narrowed and then his beak opened and shut. “That’s my own shadow.” Relieved they were safe, and not at all embarrassed by his overreaction, Zazu continued to monitor. “When we get to the water, I want you both to stay in the shallow end.”

  Ignoring the warning, the two cubs resumed walking. “How we getting rid of the dodo?” Nala whispered a moment later, leaning over.

  Simba smiled. “Trust me,” he said, puffing up his chest. “I got this. Just follow me to freedom—”

  His words were cut off as he turned back and found himself face to face with Zazu. The
bird had landed right in front of them without either of the cubs noticing. Simba’s eyes narrowed. Maybe there was a reason his parents kept the bird around.…

  “How lovely it is to see the future king with his future queen,” Zazu said, looking back and forth between Simba and Nala. “I could just molt.”

  Simba cocked his head. “What do you mean, future queen?” he asked.

  “Well, one day the two of you will be betrothed.” Zazu’s words were met with blank stares. “Intended. Affianced!” he added.

  “Simba, you speak bird?” Nala asked, not understanding what the hornbill was trying to say. Simba shook his head.

  “Married!” Zazu translated in frustration. “One day you will be married—to each other.”

  For one long moment, Simba just stared at Zazu. Then he looked over at Nala. Then back at Zazu. Was the bird kidding? Married? To Nala? The thought of it seemed very strange to him. “Not going to happen, Zazu,” he said, shaking his whole body as if that would get rid of the idea. “Nala and I are friends. And besides—she’s afraid of rhinos!”

  “And he’s never eaten an impala!” Nala pointed out, clearly not into the idea, either.

  Simba shot her a look. That wasn’t entirely true. He had tried impala—once. He just didn’t like it. Too gamey. Once more, he shook his head. They were never getting married, end of story. It didn’t matter what the other did or didn’t eat or like. They were friends. And they would be forever.

  Zazu did not seem impressed. “A monarch who ignores tradition?” he said. “With an attitude like that, I’m afraid you’ll be a pretty pathetic king!”

  “Well, I’m not letting anyone tell me where to go, what to do, who to marry,” Simba said, pushing past Zazu and continuing toward the watering hole. “There will never be a king like me!”

  “Simba!” Zazu shouted after him. “You can’t escape your destiny!”

  “Just watch!” Simba shouted back. He wasn’t just going to escape his destiny—he was going to escape the nosy hornbill, too.

  Pushing through the rim of grass surrounding the watering hole, he was happy when he surprised a flock of flamingos. As they took to the air, their pink wings dripping with water, Simba laughed. Zazu could say silly things and tell him he was going to be pathetic as a king, but Simba had bigger plans. He was going to be a mighty king. No, not just a mighty king—the mightiest king. As he and Nala began to run around the water, ducking and weaving among the legs of elephants, hippos, and zebras, Simba heard Zazu’s frantic reminders to stay in sight, and ignored them. He meant what he had said. No one was going to tell him what to do. He would roar as loudly as he wanted. He would run around and go anywhere he wished. He would be free! And as king, if he wanted to change the rules, he would.

  Signaling to Nala, Simba jumped into a mud puddle, covering himself in the thick brown goo. Nala did the same. Emerging from the puddle, they slunk over and blended in among the elephants, who were also covered in mud to keep cool. Looking up, Simba saw that Zazu was still talking to him—though he clearly couldn’t see him. With a flap of his wings, he turned, his back now toward Simba and Nala.

  Seeing his chance, Simba raced away from the elephants and along the bank of the watering hole, heading toward the far side. Nala followed close behind. They just needed to get to that side and then they would be closer to the Elephant Graveyard—and hopefully farther from Zazu.

  But suddenly, the hornbill turned and spotted them. “I know what you’re doing!” he shouted. “You can’t hide from me, Simba! It’s my sworn duty to keep you safe!”

  Simba stopped in his tracks. Zazu was right. He couldn’t hide from Zazu forever. But there was another way. Quickly, he jumped up onto a ledge over the bank of the watering hole. Then—he jumped in!

  The action startled the gathered animals. The zebras began to stomp their feet and the elephants swung their long trunks, splashing water everywhere. Almost instantly, Nala and Simba were washed clean—and Zazu was soaked through. As he tried to flap his waterlogged wings, Simba and Nala ducked between a pair of young hippos.

  “You’re coming home with me this instant!” Zazu said, still following them but falling farther behind.

  Simba had had enough. He was going to be king. And a king didn’t need a babysitter. Glancing ahead, he smiled. A huge flock of birds had landed in front of them. Letting out a roar, Simba took off, racing right at them. As the hundreds of brightly colored birds lifted into the air, they blocked Zazu—and gave Simba and Nala the chance they had been waiting for.

  Before anyone could stop them, they raced away from the watering hole and straight toward the shadowy lands on the horizon.

  “Simba!” Nala said when they finally stopped running. She was out of breath—both from the run and the thrill of the escape. She had never done anything that exciting before. “We really lost him!”

  Simba lifted his head and smiled. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “The future king is a genius.”

  Nala gave him the stink eye. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “You never would have gotten halfway without the queen.” She had been as shocked as Simba by the idea of them being “betrothed,” as Zazu put it, but she did like the idea of being a queen. After all, Sarabi was as powerful as Mufasa—at least when it came to the hunt and ruling the lionesses. Mufasa listened to her and trusted her opinion.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Simba said as they walked up the hill leading to a wide ridge. “There isn’t going to be a queen.”

  Nala frowned at her friend. Her earlier thoughts vanished. He was right. She didn’t want to be a queen—not if it meant marrying him. Ick! “I’d rather marry an aardvark,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Good luck finding one that will say yes,” Simba said, laughing.

  Nala stopped. She knew where this was going. The friendly teasing often led to this kind of moment. Simba was her best friend—and the future king—but sometimes he needed to be reminded he wasn’t king yet. Slowly, she began to lower her body so her weight was on the backs of her legs. “Good luck getting out of here without a bruising,” she said.

  “Give it your best shot,” Simba said, lowering his own body so the pair were now face to face.

  Nala waited. Simba always made the first move; he couldn’t help himself. He was a show-off, and show-offs didn’t like waiting. Sure enough, a moment later, Simba pounced.

  Nala was ready. In one smooth move, she reared up on her hind legs and met the force of his pounce head-on. His momentum stopped, she quickly flipped him over onto his back. Throwing her own weight forward, she pinned him to the ground. Then she grinned. “I think you owe me an apology.”

  “Never!” Simba said, his voice wheezy as he struggled to push Nala off.

  Finally slipping free, he once again rushed Nala. But once again, she flipped him over. Only this time, instead of landing on the flat ground of the ridge, they fell over it and began tumbling down the hill onto the other side. Over and over they fell, until they landed—Nala once more on top of Simba—at the bottom.

  “I’m waiting…” Nala said, her tone teasing and her eyes bright.

  But to her surprise, Simba didn’t say anything. Instead, his eyes were glued on something behind her. “Nala,” he whispered. “What is that?”

  Nala shook her head. “You’re not going to trick me, Simba,” she said. “I know there’s nothing…” Her voice trailed off as she realized the sun was no longer warming her back and her voice was bouncing off rocks. She shivered. Then, slowly, she turned around.

  Her eyes grew wide as she looked at what they had tumbled into. Jagged rocks lifted high into the sky, casting everything in shadow. The ground was hard and burned white. There were no trees, no shrubs, not even the call of a bird. All Nala could see were bones. Lots and lots of elephant bones.

  “This must be it!” Simba said, getting to his feet. The initial fear Nala had seen in his eyes was gone, replaced with excitement. “Come on!” As he ran
ahead, a thick layer of white dust drifted up into the air. Simba didn’t seem to notice as he darted in and out of the bones, ducking under a huge set of ribs and leaping over a giant tusk.

  Following slowly, Nala tried not to cringe. These bones were all that was left of dozens of elephants. How had they come to be here? Why had they walked all this way? Was there some other reason they had ended up in this shadowy, desolate land? She loved to watch the elephant herds as they roamed the savannah. Next to the lions, of course, she thought they were the most majestic of all creatures. Seeing their bones made her sad. She shivered again. She had had enough. “Simba—we’re way beyond the Pride Lands,” she said.

  Simba paused on top of a tusk and looked over at her. “We found it, Nala,” he said, not sounding at all worried. In fact, he sounded proud. “You know what this means?”

  “We can go home?” she answered hopefully.

  Simba shook his head. “It means they won’t treat us like cubs anymore!”

  Nala opened her mouth to point out that they were cubs but stopped. She knew there was no point arguing with Simba. All he cared about was growing up and being king. To him, being taken care of and loved and fed were annoyances, whereas Nala, while she didn’t love a bath, loved her mother and the den and her place in the pride. But Simba was her best friend and she wasn’t going to leave him—even if she didn’t agree with him. Shrugging, she started to follow him when, suddenly, a strange sound whistled through the wind. Both she and Simba stopped. “What was that?” Nala asked nervously.

  “Just the wind moving through those rocks,” Simba said. “Let’s go check it out!”

  Sighing, Nala watched as Simba bounded off. He was going to get them into trouble, she was sure of it. She just had to hope it wasn’t any trouble they couldn’t get out of, and that Mufasa wouldn’t blame her…at least not entirely.