The Secret of Lions Read Online Free

himself as if he were fifteen years younger. His face
was handsome, yet plain. He had a British accent that seemed
flawless. His hair was short and perfectly groomed. He had a quiet
presence about him. He was new to the campus; he’d only been a
professor at King’s College for a semester. Some of the other
faculty often confused his name. Barbara guessed that he was still
making friends with them.
    It was Monday. She sat in his class called
“The Mysteries of Art,” a 600-level course. She was excited about
this particular class; it sounded intriguing. The class focused on
mysteries involving different works of art such as Mona Lisa’s
smile or why the screamer is screaming in The Scream or why
did Van Gogh cut off his ear?
    “Class, the next painting we are going to
look at is one of my favorite mysteries,” Professor Blake said. He
turned a knob on the side of a large, metal projector. Swiftly, the
projector hummed and the slide on the blank, white wall changed. A
painting appeared that would change Barbara’s life forever.
    “ The Secret of Lions ,” Professor
Blake said. “This painting is hanging right now in our art gallery
on the first floor, past the spiral staircase, near the back.”
    Barbara stared at it in amazement. It
portrayed a majestic, black lion overlooking grand cliffs. It
looked magnificent. She could not stop studying the design and
style of this masterpiece. It captivated her unlike any other piece
of art that she had ever seen before.
    “Notice how realistic The Secret looks. It
is incredible. It depicts so much violence and turmoil. Can anyone
tell me what the secret is?”
    “The secret is secret. That represents
darkness,” Bill Jeffers said.
    “Not quite, Mr. Jeffers, but thanks for the
depth of your answer,” Professor Blake said. Some of the class
laughed. “Seriously, take a good look at the painting and think
about it.”
    Barbara raised her hand.
    “Miss Howard, go ahead.” Professor Blake
noticed Barbara’s beauty more than he was actually waiting for an
answer.
    “It’s because it’s a black lion. Black lions
don’t exist, but this one does and he looks ferocious. However,
usually dangerous animals are normally more fearful than they are
tough,” Barbara said.
    “Good. Good answer. Except that black lions
do exist. They are a rarity, but they are possible,” Professor
Blake said, clearing his throat.
    “They can be fully colored black like that,
Professor?” another student asked.
    “Usually, the black lion refers to a lion
with a black mane, but yes there are stories of lions that are
black, like a white panther or tiger. I believe that the only one
ever to exist in captivity was in Germany some years ago,”
Professor Blake said.
    “I have another question, Professor Blake,”
Barbara said.
    “You are persistent, Miss Howard.”
    “Yes, sir. Sorry,” she said.
    “Especially for this early in the semester,”
he said.
    “I was wondering what the name means. Is
there a larger secret somewhere in the painting?”
    “Good question, Miss Howard. I suppose you
have really never seen this painting then. Most students who come
here are already familiar with this work—as are the faculty. You
see, this painting is perhaps the biggest mystery that we will talk
about all semester. It is our opus, our great mystery.”
    Professor Blake moved closer to the
projection of the painting. He was now standing between the
projector and the image on the wall. His glasses reflected the
light from the projector as he turned back to the class. The
painting was blurred behind the muscular outline of his body.
    “Several months ago this painting surfaced.
It just appeared in the art gallery here on campus. Are you
familiar with Adolf Hitler? Miss Howard?”
    “Of course,” Barbara answered.
    “What did Hitler have the Nazis do to most
art pieces that were in their possession? You know, the ones that
were not pro-Reich?”
    “They were destroyed. Burned in public