Song of the Tigers II
CHAPTER I
"Concentrate on the structure, Tygra. Use your biological studies as a reference to mentally dissect it," White stated in her soft voice. She pressed her fingers lightly on his temples, lending her mental will to his. He did not respond, but followed her example as she emphasized her instructions visually for him.
Tygra focused his mind's eye on the damaged plant, magnifying its cell structure as if viewed from under a microscope. The serrated edges of the torn leaves gaped like giant teeth back at him.
"I see it now," he murmured. Mind-linked with her, Tygra and White's mental sight melded as one. The mystic sensed his amazement with a smile. She could see that he had indeed reached that point where he could delve into living organisms objectively without the aid of extraordinary methods. After all, he was a scientist and would not be distracted by strange appearances. But she could feel him struggling to retain the contact.
"Easy now. Put it back together piece by piece, like a puzzle. Fuse the sides as if your hands were a joining torch. That's it," she encouraged.
Tygra could feel her healing strength flowing through his hands, but sensed the minute power that was uniquely his own. She had shown him how to tap that power, but it took him five long months just to recognize it. After several more minutes of deep concentration, Tygra began to experience a dull throbbing behind his eyes. His vision wavered and he lost perception of the task at hand. White sensed his discomfort and released the mind-link.
"Enough, Tygra, it's done. Take a few moments to reorient yourself," she ordered. Tygra sat back in his seat, massaging his forehead.
Panthro leaned up against the door frame, his arms casually crossed over his broad chest, watching with intense interest. He pushed away from the entrance and sidled over to the table. At a nod from White, he picked up the potted plant and examined it at eye level. Usually busy with his own inventions, Panthro, nonetheless, found Tygra's, and now White's, mind gifts fascinating. Where he worked well with the physical, Tygra and White excelled in the psionic and psychic. He studied the healed leaves and nodded, amazed.
"You've been holding out on me, Tygra? I didn't know you could do this!" he commented with a wink. White smiled approvingly.
Tygra looked up at Panthro and accepted the proffered plant. He gently ran his fingertip along the length of the leaves, surprised that they were indeed intact. He tilted his head slightly, noting the faint scar tissue on their undersides. He raised his brows at White.
"Surely I couldn't have done that without your help?" he exclaimed. White laughed lightly. She rested her hand on his shoulder.
"You did, Tygra, and by yourself, I might add. I had pulled back when I sensed your power surfacing. Quite a neat job of it, too, for a first attempt." She took the flower from him and placed it near the sun-drenched window.
"Most mystics don't learn that technique until well into their second year of training. I'm impressed!"
"So am I!" Panthro said with candid praise. "Maybe you should be a mystic, too, my friend." He ruffled Tygra's short mane teasingly.
"Be serious, Panthro," Tygra chided, embarrassed, but he smiled crookedly anyway. "I've hardly had the kind of training White's been exposed to. Besides, this work's pretty rough on the brain. Gives me a headache." He rubbed his eyes again. White eyed him thoughtfully.
"Not like making illusions, is it?" she asked. Tygra shook his head from side to side.
"Creating illusions never gave me headaches, just made me feel tired after awhile." He rose to his feet and started towards the window, but would have fallen had not Panthro been nearby to catch him.
"You okay, buddy?" Panthro asked worriedly. He helped Tygra back to the chair. White knelt beside him, concern written on her face as well.
"Just-felt-dizzy, that's all. Not to worry," Tygra said reassuringly. "Really, I'll be fine. I guess it took more out of me than I thought."
"I think we'll dispense from these exercises for a time, Tygra. I don't want you to overdue it if this causes you discomfort. There's plenty of time to work on healing techniques if you want to learn them. Sit there for awhile and rest."
"Was it hard for you when you first learned?" said Tygra, a bit crestfallen.
"Yes, but I started at it at a much younger age, and it didn't give me dizzy spells. You've developed your skills through a different part of your mind. But you have potential which has been untapped. Patience is the key here."
Satisfied at least with that explanation, Tygra sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Panthro sat on the edge of the table.
"I guess I spoke too soon, eh?," he commented. White caught the remark and smiled.
"Oh, I wouldn't count him out of the running, Panthro, although it's kind of early to judge that yet."
"Hey, come on, you two, give me a break!" Tygra said with a chuckle. "You give me too much credit." White took a seat opposite him, folding her hands.
"My mentor would have said otherwise. Are you always so critical of your talents? I meant what I said about your potential, Tygra. Even she would have had to admit that your skills excel that of any of the red tiger clan. I wonder if the mystics may have shortchanged their own pool of knowledge and skills by assuming that only white tigers should be candidates for mystic study."
Tygra stared at her with surprise. "Such rebellious concepts for one who holds such an honor!" he remarked in mock astonishment.
"It's been proven, more or less, that the white clan exhibits such innate gifts practically from the cradle."
"They can be detected even before a kit is born. As for my rebellious attitude, well, I didn't always desire to be a mystic. And not all whites have the ability to. My father was a red tiger, my mother, white. She was one who didn't meet the criteria, although she had some skills. When I was tested and told that I did, I begged my parents not to send me for training. I wanted to stay with my family and friends, even after they tried to emphasize the importance of being chosen to such a field. It was only after I met my teacher, did I realize how fortunate I was to have such schooling. It gave me the freedom to do what I've always dreamed of doing--helping to alleviate some of the suffering of those who were in pain. I learned of courage and compassion through those people and through her. She taught me much and how to recognize any who showed promise, not just the traditional white clan."
White suddenly became preoccupied with a blue crystal medallion around her neck. Tygra's smile diminished. He reached out his hand and covered both of hers. She met his gaze with misted eyes.
"You miss her dearly, don't you?" he asked, subdued. When she nodded, he added, "Then I will accept your observations as a compliment. I apologize for my lack of vision."
"She was my only family after Thundera was lost. I guess all of you had someone on Thundera too?" White stated softly.
Panthro interrupted with a shrug, "My folks passed on long before Thundera's destruction. Cheetara's did too. The kittens were orphaned at a very young age. Lion-O was the only one who had anyone still living at the time--his father, Lord Claudus, who sacrificed his life to gain us our freedom."
White turned to Tygra inquisitively. "What of your family, Tygra? And how is it that you know so much of mystics?"
It was Tygra's turn to study his hands. He reminisced, "My father and uncle disappeared on a raid to Bor-An against the Mutants. I never knew my mother." He paused, as though speaking on this subject was difficult, but then went on. "As for my knowledge of mystics? We lived near the region where they resided. There was a mystic who often visited our home and I learned some skills from her. She, too, perished on Bor-An, during the plague." With that Tygra stood and strode to the window, strangely pensive.
Panthro tried to read his sudden change of mood to no avail. It was the first time Tygra had made mention of his father that Panthro could recall, since Tygra's arrival at the palace on Thundera.
White also noted Tygra's quietude. "I'm sorry," she replied.
Tygra turned and moved toward the table again. "You needn't apologize. That was a long time ago. Besides, we had Lord Jaga to lead us when we escaped Thundera. He was a great comfort when our world was falling apart around us--literally as well as figuratively speaking." He paused, an impish grin on his face, as he realized that he'd made a pun. Panthro caught the double meaning and chuckled.
Tygra resumed his speech. "We also had something to live for--our duty to young Lion-O. It was then, as it is now, up to us to guide him in learning the ways of the Code of Thundera. Jaga knew he wouldn't survive the journey, so he entrusted that honor to us. We have much to be grateful for."
"Well, from what I've seen since living here, I'd say you've all done quite a respectable job of it." White commented with admiration.
"We've got no complaints. We're only sorry that more of our countrymen didn't survive to share it. I will say that we were fortunate that you came along when you did," Panthro observed, placing an affectionate hand on Tygra's shoulder. Tygra returned his gesture with a warm smile.
"Yes. Panthro's right. We've all benefitted from your presence."
"The honor is mine. I admit that, at first, I wasn't sure I would fit in. Now I feel as if I've been a part of you all along. I've learned a great deal as well. Thank you again," White stated, emotion coloring her voice.
"No problem." Panthro chuckled. He rose from his seat. "Well, I've got some work to finish in the storeroom. I promised Wilykat and Wilykit I'd finish some modifications on their spaceboards. I really enjoyed your demonstration, White. Just don't overwork his brain too much. I'll need him to help with the thundrillium mining tomorrow," he added with a wave of his hand, as he started for the door. Panthro ducked out the entrance just in time to avoid the chair cushion Tygra launched in his direction. It struck the door frame with a muffled whump, as Panthro's rich laughter echoed from down the corridor.
CHAPTER II
Hot wind blew in random zephyrs over the pale, ocher ripples of the Desert of Sinking Sands. The scorching sun, even at this early hour, burned the tiny green scrub bushes that struggled to survive. The few hardy creatures that lived in the scant recesses, scuttled to gain the meager shade of their hidden homes. Within the vast region of the desert, an ominous, black pyramid rose. The four guardian obelisks jutted upward at each corner of the obsidian structure. Storm clouds rumbled overhead and were stained blood red each time lightning flashed within their depths. Elsewhere, the hazy glare of the daystar nearly blinded any unsuspecting wayfarer who ventured unprepared, into this forbidden wasteland.
Deep in the musty halls of the pyramid, Mumm-Ra, the Everliving, peered haughtily into his sorcerer's cauldron. The bubbling liquid gurgled and swirled, as tendrils of smoke eddied upward, to disappear into the expense of the vaulting ceiling. Mumm-Ra lifted his arms and chanted ancient words to spells only he understood. Flames geysered upwards, illuminating the cob-webs and bestial statues with eerie, garish light. When the flames subsided, he lowered emaciated hands beneath his blood-red cloak. Decayed mummy wrappings dangled from about his body and head. He muttered to himself as he approached the lip of the cauldron. Mumm-Ra hugged his cloak tighter against his lean frame and studied the images that seemed to float over the liquid surface.
"Forces of Darkness, give me vision and show me how I may wreak havoc upon those wretched ThunderCats. They have turned every spell and trick I have thrown against them, back at me. From the whelp, Lion-O's precious Sword of Omens, or that armored contraption of Panthro's to the mysterious mind powers of Tygra, they have defeated me. Even with the help of the Mutants' technology, I've still failed to rid myself of their presence. I must resort to a different method of offense by which I can breach their defenses."
The sorcerer shuffled slowly around the perimeter of the pool. He pondered the activity of his adversaries through red, glowing eyes, but nothing revealed itself to him. He watched as the Thunderkittens frolicked with their Berbil neighbors, Cheetara shared tips on running with the Warrior Maidens of the forest. Lion-O and Snarf swam near a lake in the Forest of Unicorns, the Sword of Omens within easy reach if it was needed. Mumm-Ra knew it would warn him if any of the others were in danger, so any direct attack would surely give him away.
The image changed to the Cats' Lair itself. Within the large council room were Panthro, Tygra and this mystic called White. Mumm-Ra frowned. He had almost destroyed the architect with the Mutants' warp gas. Had the mystic not saved him, Mumm-Ra would have eliminated at least one ThunderCat and demoralized the rest. Despite his weakened, disoriented condition, Tygra had managed to turn Mumm-Ra's illusions around. For a moment, Tygra even fooled the dark one into believing in one of his illusions. Mumm-Ra had retreated to his bleak home, defeated but not destroyed.
He studied the mystic more closely. Her interference had snatched his victim from him. Tygra had shown a remarkable talent which Mumm-Ra grudgingly regarded near his equal. So, how to get even with this clever tiger. Illusions wouldn't work against him this time, Mumm-Ra thought. Tygra would, no doubt, be on his guard against them.
What was there to do? Mumm-Ra looked yet again, into the cauldron. Perhaps there was a way to get to the ThunderCats. A slow smile crept across his evil countenance.
He uttered smugly, "By appealing to their relentless pursuit to honor their precious Code of Thundera. I'll call forth a force that will try the very fiber of their existence. No creature on Third Earth can escape its wrath. But I'll need a hostage to bargain for the Sword." The sorcerer rubbed his chin with a clawed hand. White's exquisitely beautiful features floated on the surface of the roiling waters. Mumm-Ra's evil smile broadened to reveal sharp, pointed teeth. His harsh laughter reverberated within the pyramid.
"Yes! The ThunderCats have welcomed you into their fold and your powers are strong indeed, heh, heh. What better example of beauty and purity of spirit is there on Third Earth? But you know little of my powers, Mystic, and even less of my realm of darkness. You will be no match for what I have planned for the ThunderCats and their allies.
"Blacker than Death Itself, it will crush you all and even the Sword of Omens will not be able to defeat it!" Flinging out his arms again, Mumm-Ra intoned in his arcane tongue.
"Forces of Darkness and Evil! Bring forth to me your most loyal servant of fear and destruction, that which has no name, but which burns with the utmost lust for devastation!"
The mist that rose in steamy tendrils suddenly swirled in darkened hues. With a rush, it shaped itself into a ghoulish monstrosity, ink black with hellfire points for eyes. In the area that one would assume a mouth should be, opened a giant maw, complete with dagger sharp teeth. For incisors, two saber-like fangs curved downward. Although its form changed as does mist, its absolute blackness gave it an appearance of solidness.
"Go, my pet, and do my bidding. When the time is right, I will summon you to spring my most deadliest trap on the ThunderCats!"
The flaming sparks seemed to nod in agreement and rasped like grating steel, "As--you--command, mighty master!" It bowed once more, then spiraled upward and disappeared through the tiny window at the pyramid's apex.
***** The late afternoon sun settled over the rounded, stone houses of the gentle Robear-Berbils. In a dazzle of russet and gold, it was a time of harvest and this year's crop was especially fruitful. Wilykit and Wilykat pleaded with and cajoled the older ThunderCat nobles into letting them spend a few days with the kindly Berbils to help with the fruit picking. They also anticipated some easy-going activities with the bear-like creatures. When the ThunderCats crashed on Third Earth, it was the generous hospitality of the Berbils that first welcomed them to their adopted home. It was these charitable beings who pitched in to help the ThunderCats construct the formidable Cats' Lair. In return, the Cats offered assistance and protection whenever called upon. In exchange for foodstuffs offered by the Berbils' harvest groves, the nobles traded tools of the highest quality, thanks to Panthro's expertise in metallology.
As the sun began to dip below the tops of the distant trees, Wilykit and Wilykat raced each other in a game to see who could fill his or her basket the fullest of candy fruit. Ro-Bear-Bill, the leader of the Berbils, and his mate, Ro-Bear-Belle, exchanges cheerful glances at the frolicking kittens, glad for the amusement of the younger cats' antics as well as the extra hands for picking. When the dusk began to permeate the rows of orchard trees, Ro-Bear-Belle called to all the workers and they headed back to the cozy huts for dinner.
As they reached the edge of the trees, it was already dark. A crescent moon hung southeast of the tiny village, its meager light barely washing the groves and fields.
"I can't wait for the full moon to show itself," Wilykat commented with contained delight. His sister smiled knowingly.
"Me either! That marks the beginning of the Harvest festival. Lion-O and the others will come, too, as well as our other friends. Then we'll get to play games of skill and eat candy fruit pie!"
Ro-Bear-Belle stood between them and took each by the hand, propelling them toward the dining hall, sharing in their glee.
Her high-pitched voice sounded as if spoken through a resonator. "Yes, little ones, it is almost time. We look forward to having our guests share in our festivities. Come now, though, or your food will get cold." The kittens nodded politely and followed her into the building. Wilykat turned to glance back one more time at the row upon row of trees. The smile on his face froze and the hair on the nape of his neck prickled. Fear gripped his insides. He reached out a hand and quickly tugged at Wilykit's arm. She threw him a reproachful look, but followed his slowly pointing free hand. Her mouth went dry.
"Wha--what is it, Wilykat?" she asked with growing trepidation. Kat only shook his heed from side to side, for out among the groves a sinister black shadow crept with deliberate slowness. The kittens watched in shocked awe as the thing enveloped tree after plump tree, ravaging each one as it passed. Ro-Bear-Bill moved to the doorway to see what was going on, when the kittens paused, spellbound. He, too, stood rooted in place as the product of his people's labor was decimated by this unknown entity.
Wilykit and Wilykat shook off their initial shock and, without second thought, plucked several of the magic pellets from their belts to charge at the dark intruder. Anger masked the terror they felt, but the Berbils had always been kind to them. Nothing was going to callously or wantonly destroy their crops. The monster plodded forward relentlessly and paused to size up its miniature challengers.
Without hesitating, the Thunderkittens flung the pellets. Deceptively real dinosaur-like creatures formed from the yellow and blue smoke. The ebony terror emitted a high-pitched shriek of laughter and bared its fangs. The red of its eyes flared dangerously. The kittens shrank back and bolted for the safety of the main building. The creature continued to rasp and cackle, systematically raping the orchard bare.
"We can't stop it, Ro-Bear-Bill! We don't even know what it is, but if it's going to continue this path of destruction, there won't be anything left for your festival!" Kit said sadly. Ro-Bear-Bill groaned in despair. By now the other Berbils were attracted by the commotion.
Wilykat pulled out his communicator. "Come in Cats' Lair. This is Wilykat! The Berbil village is being attacked! We need help. Do you receive, Cats' Lair?!" When he only got static for a response, Kat gave up.
"I hope Lion-O gets the warning or it will be the end of the Berbils' village," he said hopelessly.
CHAPTER III In the forest of the Unicorns, Lion-O and Snarf sprawled on the bank of a crystal clear lake, dozing in the last remaining light of the afternoon. Snarf shook the sleep from his eyes and yawned. He glanced around at the fading light and nudged Lion-O.
"Wake up, Lion-O. Snarf, snarf, it's getting late. We should be getting back to the Lair. All this swimming's made me hungry. If you like, I could make us a bread fruit pudding for dessert."
Lion-O stirred and sat up, stretching his powerfully built body. He laughed casually and ruffled Snarf's head fur. "You're always hungry, Snarf, and you're going to make us all fat if you keep stuffing us with fruit pies and whatever." Snarf looked crestfallen.
"You don't like my desserts?" he asked, folding his arms.
"Of course we do, Snarf. But you're sure to spoil us to no end. Cheer up! So long as there's the candy fruit around, we'll never lack for your fine baked goods." When the snarf brightened from the compliment, Lion-O added, "But you're right, it is getting late. There's nothing like a good, hot meal to round the day. It's nice to be able to relax like this now and again. Tell you what, I'll race you back to the Lair!"
Snarf eagerly agreed and they set off at a trot. They passed other portions of the lake, threading their way in and about the winding trail. They paused briefly to let several of the pure white unicorns pass, who leaped out from underneath the branches canopying the path. The magnificent equines allowed them to stroke their long, graceful necks and velvet noses. Behind the horselike beasts came the Unicorn Keeper, prodding the younger colts. She offered a pleasant greeting to the young lord and his companion. They greeted her in return, then continued on their way. When they reached the edge of the forest, they paused to eye the silhouette of the Cats' Lair in the sinking, orange sunset. The huge structure always caught Lion-O up short, as it did now. The grand fortress, symbolic of the ThunderCats' noble heritage, spoke of Tygra's master architectural craftsmanship. Occasionally, it reminded Lion-O, with a twinge of homesickness, of their beloved Thundera. He had come to accept this new world as their home with some measure of gladness, because he knew he had the truest friends to share it with.
He and Snarf proceeded at a slower pace into the open fields near the Plains of Fertility and were almost across when the last of the light disappeared. It was full dark by the time they reached the far edge. Pin-point starlight sprinkled the indigo sky as the crescent moon peeked its eye abovethe trees. Without warning, the magnificent Eye of Thundera began to glow bright red. Lion-O sensed its summons, even before it growled softly. He stopped and slipped the blade from the claw-shield hanging from his hip. Peering through the holes in the hilt, he commanded the Sword to reveal the source of trouble with its visionary sight beyond sight. Lion-O's eyes glowed golden in the dark as the Eye showed him the Berbil village. His stomach lurched as he viewed the kittens attempting to ward off a terrible black menace. He couldn't define the thing's shape but the fire eyes and gaping fangs were sufficient enough to warrant action.
"Snarf, go ahead to the Lair and get the others. There's something attacking the Berbils' groves and it looks like it's heading straight for the village. Hurry now! I'll go see what I can find out!" With that he turned and raced as fast as his cat strength would allow. Snarf complied and bolted in the direction of the mighty Lair.
***** White the Mystic sat in a pleasantly furnished sitting room, strumming lightly on an aesthetically carved harp. She paused intermittently, trying to piece together an arrangement of chords she had jotted down. Somehow they didn't seem to come together right. She had brought the harp with her when she originally left Thundera and welcomed its company when she lost her only friend. Servalla had died when their ship crashed on Third Earth. She often meditated by its soft tones and was pleased to learn that the ThunderCats delighted in her playing. Servalla once told her that music was a panacea for a troubled soul and found, once again, that her mentor's words spoke true. Servalla had taught her to play and White, now, was the legacy to all her teachings.
She sighed. Pausing yet another moment, White brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. Her fingers sought out the medallion encircling her slender neck. Servalla had given it to her for safekeeping. The young mystic lovingly wore it all the time in memory of her. She looked up as a familiar voice came from the doorway. Tygra crossed to where she sat by the window. He hooked a stool with his foot and drew it near. Seating himself, he smiled.
"That's lovely. Please play it through. I don't think I've heard that melody before. It has quite a soothing affect on this drumming headache of mine."
White leaned on the harp a moment. Her sapphire eyes studied his bright amber ones.
"A headache still? Maybe Panthro's right, in that I've worked you too hard. My friend always said that if you hurt or are troubled, music can be quite relaxing. She was right. We used to use soft music as part of our healing treatment, especially for patients who were infirmed for long lengths of time. It's also good for meditating. Let's try this tune again. Just concentrate on the flow. Perhaps I'll find the right line of direction it should take. It's singing up here, but it seems to lack something, and I haven't been able to make my hands play what my brain hears." She shrugged, tapping her head.
Tygra grinned and indicated that she proceed. White set herself and plunked several chords, then changed to a running stroke of her fingers across the strings. The melody had a smooth, flowing tempo that repeated itself over and over. Tygra partially closed his eyes as the rhythm found its way to his keen ear. The tune seemed to caress his inner senses and to his surprise, did temper the ache in his head. He listened, enjoying the flow of the dulcet notes. After a few moments, White stopped, mid-tune. Tygra blinked, suddenly aware that he had been drifting. He smiled sheepishly.
"That's some potent music. Why did you stop?" he asked in awe.
White folded her hands in her lap. "That's as far as I've been able togo with it. It needs something to fill it out. I only know how to play the harp and a few other string instruments." Tygra, stood quickly and made for the door across the room.
"Wait a moment, I'll be right back," he gestured with a wink. He left and returned several minutes later with something wrapped in a slender, elongated, velvet pouch. He sat down and removed from the light blue cover, a handsomely carved flute. He held it out for her to see.
"It was a gift from my father. He left it in my room the day--the last time I saw him alive. I'd learned to play when I was just a cub. I never dreamed I'd possess such a fine instrument. Since I've had it though, I could not bring myself to even blow a few notes on it. The memory was too painful. Perhaps now is the time to let him know that I really do appreciate it," Tygra revealed quietly, unsure why he found it important to bare such private memories to this young woman. He'd never told anyone about that, not even Panthro. Perhaps it was because she had such an endearing manner about her that made him feel comfortable around her. He shrugged, a bit shyly, White noted.
"In any event, shall we play, Maestro? I'll follow your lead," he said, changing his mood so quickly, that the mystic could only nod. She tapped the beat with her toe.
"On the beat, then," she announced and began again. Tygra, tentatively held the flute at ready, joining as the melody came around once more. At first he played the tune flawlessly along with her, then weaved a harmony around her straight tempo, as he became more confident with the flute's clear sounds. They performed alone without stopping and White sensed the truer song emerge. When they'd finished, it was as though they had rehearsed the tune a hundred times together before. White was breathless with sheer delight and she read it in Tygra's shocked expression as well.
"Did I do alright?" he ventured to say aloud. White could not contain herself.
"For someone who's only heard a few bars of a tune that's been rolling around in my thoughts for days, yes, I'd say you did wonderful! Why, it's as though you read my mind of every possible note this song could possess! Why haven't you ever mentioned you could play before?" she replied with glee.
Tygra gripped the flute with nervous fingers and sighed a deep breath. He shrugged again, averting his eyes. White was about to comment further but Panthro hurried into the room, a breathless Snarf trailing behind. White turned to face them and Tygra looked up in alarm.
"Tygra, Lion-O's gone to the Berbil village. Says there's something attacking their crops and that the villagers may be in danger as well!"
"Aren't the kittens there?" White asked, worriedly.
"Yes!" Tygra replied, rising to his feet. He handed the flute to her. "Please monitor the control room. Snarf, stay here with White."
He didn't wait for an answer. Tygra hastened out the door on Panthro's heels. When they reached the bay that housed the ThunderTank, both leaped inside with agile bounds. Panthro revved the engine to life and roared out the hangar into the indigo night. Tygra swivelled his head to face Panthro.
"Any idea what we're up against?" he queried, his voice level, but his heart racing.
"Snarf wasn't specific. Lion-O probably wasn't certain what he saw in the Sword. I tried to raise the kittens on the communicator but the signal was jammed," Panthro answered, his eyes straight ahead, following the beams from the headlights. Tygra considered the situation a moment, his chin in his hand.
"You don't suppose it's the Mutants, do you? They've been far too quiet lately. I wouldn't put it past them to stir up some trouble again. Or worse, Mumm-Ra!"
"Can't say, either way. Whatever it is, it was enough of threat to get the Sword all worked up. We better get there fast. If the kittens and the Berbils are in trouble, then Lion-O will be too,"
"Give it all she's got then!" Tygra coaxed. Panthro acknowledged by pressing on the accelerator and the Tank leaped ahead.
***** Lion-O ran, his eyes and ears alert. He paused periodically and tested the air with his Cat senses but neither saw nor heard anything. It wasn't long before he spotted the tiny sprinkle of lights that marked the Berbil village. He slowed to a more cautious pace. The usual merriment of the Berbils was absent, replaced by an ominous silence.
Lion-O slunk closer to the gate near the village, using the deep shadows as cover. He scanned the groves, but nothing lurked within. With drawn sword, he slipped into the village proper. Several of the mushroom-shaped structures were smashed flat. He searched for the mysterious visitor in storage huts, but with negative results. Lion-O growled under his breath. Where were the Berbils and the kittens? There wasn't a sign of them anywhere. He approached the most central and largest of the buildings, occasionally glancing over his shoulder and above his head. Still no creature.
He yanked open the door of the main entrance, sword before him at ready. Empty. However, food still sat untouched on the table, as if the residents simply abandoned it.
Lion-O called out tentatively, "Ro-Bear-Bill? Kit? Kat?" A noise beneath him caused him to jump, backwards. The rug on the floor pushed upward and Wilykat poked his head out.
"Lion-O! Am I glad to see you!" he said with a grin. He hopped out and helped Wilykit up behind him. The Berbils came next. When all were accounted for, Lion-O asked what happened.
"That thing started gobbling up the fruit trees, then it went after the Berbils' houses. Did you see it, Lion-O?" Wilykit related.
"Only in the Sword. What was it?" said Lion-O
"We--don't--know, Lion-O."Ro-Bear-Bill answered. "It--ruined--our crops--and our homes."
"Don't worry, Ro-Bear-Bill. We'll help you fix your homes. Can any of the crops be saved?"
"It--didn't get--all of the trees. It--vanished--as quickly as it appeared," the chief Berbil stated.
The familiar roar of the ThunderTank engines drew Lion-O's attention. Tygra and Panthro leaped out, surveying the devastation.
"What a mess!" Panthro commented. "What happened here?" Lion-O explained briefly.
"We, should stay tonight, Lion-O and give the Berbils a hand rebuilding in the morning," Tygra said. "Just in case that thing returns."
Lion-O nodded. Ro-Bear-Bill offered them some of the uneaten food, then the ThunderCats took turns keeping watch throughout the night.
CHAPTER IV
The following day, White joined the ThunderCats in helping the Berbils repair the damage. With her healer's sensitivity, she was able to determine which of the ravaged trees could be saved and which could not. She was saddened to inform the Berbils that more, rather than a few, would not survive. In silent resignation, all worked to restore the battered village, pausing only to eat a light lunch and rest. They continued until late afternoon, then returned to Cats' Lair to rest. Panthro remained behind just in case there was more trouble.
At Tygra's suggestion, the others were encouraged to get as much sleep as possible, and no one argued otherwise. Lion-O fell asleep almost as soon as he laid his head down. White and the kittens did likewise. Only Tygra remained awake on watch, an uneasiness gripping him. He was exhausted, to be sure, but this dark specter's sudden appearance and just-as-sudden, disappearance, was disturbing. For some unknown reason, he sensed with certainty, that this "thing" would show itself again soon.
He was not disappointed. A scent few hours after the ThunderCats had arrived home, Cheetara's desperate plea for help sounded over the communicator. The Warrior Womens' treetop kingdom was being flamed and already there were casualties. He was not surprised when she described their assailant. He acknowledged her, informing her that they were en route, then broke the connection. Tygra's heart beat like a drum in his chest as he raced to first Lion-O's then White's room. He regretted having to rouse them, all of them having had so little sleep. Snarf awoke first as Tygra entered and was told to watch the kittens and to remain at the Lair. Lion-O followed Tygra to White's room and Tygra touched her gently on the shoulder.
"White, we're needed in the Warrior Maidens' camp!" he said gravely. "There are injured." White stirred sleepily, but something in Tygra's expression and words brought her fully awake. She nodded, noting Lion-O's presence. She slipped on her cloak and sandals, sought out her healing herbs and matched steps with the others as they hurried to the ThunderTank. For the second night in a row they found themselves in the mist of confusion and destruction. The Warrior Women worked frantically to pass buckets of water to douse the flames that consumed the treetop houses. Others beat at fire-licked branches with blankets, skins or anything useful within their grasp.
The latecomers discovered that when the creature struck, four of the women who shared a hut, were burned in various degrees and were alive only because Queen Willa, Cheetara and the queen's sister, Nayda, were nearby enough to hear their screams. At Willa's direction, Lion-O, Cheetara and Nayda continued with the firefighting, utilizing the ThunderTank's built in watertank to spray the trees.
White was shown to the largest structure where the injured had been taken. Along with the Maidens' own healer and Tygra to assist, White made up a salve to use on the less serious burns. The three of them worked carefully not to cause anymore discomfort. However, one woman's face had been burned horribly and the healer stroked her hair tenderly in compassion. White knew she could not be cured simply with salve. She suspected the girl would be scarred for life or die from the raw lesions.
"Tygra, come here." White called to him softly. He obediently moved closer. White then spoke to the Maidens' healer, whose name was Carisa. "With your permission, I'd like to try a deeper healing. Her burns are far too serious for just bandaging." Having met and gotten to know White since her arrival at the Cats' Lair, Carisa nodded, relieved, for her own skills could not have matched that of the mystic's. She smiled a thanks for White's courtesy of her opinion. White turned to Tygra.
"I'll need your help in this," she stated. Tygra nodded assent, absently wondering how he could assist in a healing. White had already slipped into her half-trance, speaking softly. "This is a difficult healing and because we're tired, I'll need to ask you to lend me some of your strength. I will only use what is necessary. Remember how I showed you with the plant."
She did not wait for his answer, but was inwardly pleased that he responded without question. There was astonishment on his face, but he stilled his thoughts for the emergency at hand. A long time afterwards, a tremendously grateful Rena grasped the hand of the mystic weakly, her comely appearance nearly restored. Her skin would be scarred permanently but she accepted it readily enough, happy just to be alive. She fell asleep with a smile on her lips, Carisa in attendance.
White and Tygra slipped quietly outside, their bodies leaden from their efforts. Tygra's legs felt wobbly under him, so he motioned to White that they sit. She complied, eyeing him askance. He looked a little strained.
"You did quite well in there," she whispered, trying to divert his mind, "and I thank you for your support."
Tygra lifted his eyes to meet hers, the headache from before returned with a vengeance, but he curled his mouth into a small smile, nonetheless. "How is it--that you can--withstand such pain--without losing yourself in it?" he asked in a thick, halting voice. White felt numb also, but she was not oblivious to the effort it took for him to speak. She looked closer at him.
"You felt that pain? I'd thought I'd shielded you from that. I'm very sorry," she murmured. Tygra wiped his forehead of the sweat beaded there.
"As Panthro would say, 'No problem.' I should go help with the fires, now," he uttered wearily. But he had no energy to move.
The light from the fires danced on his russet fur. White studied him again. She didn't think she had drawn on so much of his powers, but it dawned on her that he hadn't had a chance to sleep upon their return to the Lair. Irregardless, her talent should have been strong enough to protect him. She must remember that during his next lesson. She didn't voice that concern to him, saying instead, "I think they've gotten it under control now, anyway. You'd be better just to sit for a bit and collect yourself. Otherwise you will fall on your face if you try to stand." Amusement shone in her eyes. Tygra barely heard her. He mumbled something indiscernible and had leaned his head back against the wall of the building, snoring gently, soon thereafter. The mystic thought about what he had asked.
She realized that he had more than just lent his support in the healing. He had given that little extra of himself, over and above what she would have allowed or expected. He had experienced the girl's agony because he didn't know how to close off the pain as did a full-fledged mystic. What's more, he didn't complain afterwards of the malaise he must surely be suffering as a result. She had seen it in his expression when he had met her gaze. There was something about that quiet dauntlessness in him that appealed to her. She recognized it now, as the trait she touched, when she first mind-linked with him to save his life.
White smiled grimly and let him sleep, assured that he was safe where he was, then went to seek out the others. No more casualties were sustained, fortunately and as they did the previous night, the ThunderCats dwelt amidst the stricken and the devastation, their presence a reassuring factor once more.
The following morning only brought more bad news. None of the Cats slept with any regularity, anymore than did the Warrior Maidens. Several shared watches with the ThunderCats, keeping sharp eyes out for new fires caused by stray cinders. Just as the sun rose above the forest lake, Wilykit and Wilykat soared into view on their spaceboards. They dropped down into the clearing below Willa's treehouse, a dwarf-like Balkin clinging frightfully to Wilykat's waist.
"Ho, ThunderCats!" Wilykit shouted to the main group standing with Willa, Nayda and a handful of women. Tygra turned towards them and waited for them to land, placing his hands on his hips.
"I thought you were told to stay at the Lair with Snarf," he reprimanded.
"We would have, Tygra, but this Balkin came before sunrise and asked for help. That thing's at it again!" Wilykat complained, indicating his timid little passenger. At the mention of the elusive demon, Tygra exchanged glances with White, who had stepped up alongside of him. Lion-O and Willa also came forth.
"What is it, Tygra?" the young leader asked.
"It seems that this creature paid the Balkin's a visit last night while we were occupied here," Tygra replied. He placed a hand on the small fellow's shoulder reassuringly. "Tell us, friend, have you any injured who need attention?"
The Balkin's vision encompassed the blackened trees around him. He shrugged sadly and nodded. "I see we're not alone. Yes, Tygra, several of our people were trapped under collapsed buildings. Some have broken bones. Many are youngsters. Can you help us?"
Lion-O answered immediately. "Of course we will!"
"Lion-O, White and I will go with the Balkin, if you can spare us. We could use the Tank to get there quicker, since our little friend here doesn't look too comfortable on a spaceboard," Tygra spoke up. A teasing grin tugged on his lips, despite the gravity of the situation. The Balkin's face looked relieved, both for the promise of assistance and Tygra's astute observation of his fear of a trip back on the spaceboard of a reckless kitten. Willa touched Lion-O's arm.
"We have plenty of hands here to continue clean-up. As long as that thing is loose, no one on Third Earth is safe," she said.
Tygra, White and the Balkin took off for the Balkin community with all haste. When they arrived, they stared with shock. All of the village's habitations were razed beyond recognition. Many of the adults milled about, trying to piece together temporary shelters. Crying and moans of pain could be heard off to one side. Tygra growled under his breath. He turned to the Balkin.
"Was anyone killed in this mess?" he wanted to know. The Balkin shook his head from side to side.
"None since before I left," he groaned. Tygra clenched his jaw.
"I'd like a chance to deal with that demon for a11 the hurt it's caused!" he voiced angrily, balling his fists.
"First things first, Tygra. The injured need us now," White said soothingly, empathizing with his desire for justice.
The Balkin showed them to where the injured stayed. Those helpless individuals turned their attention on the two Thunderians with pleading eyes, offering their wounded for aid. Speaking comfortingly, they examined each and every needy person, then began treating them. As in the case of the burned Warrior Maiden, White found it necessary to subpoena Tygra's strength to stimulate her own flagging energy, especially in the more difficult healings.
When they had finished, both were enervated to the point of near collapse. It was evident to the mystic that her attempt to spare Tygra of her patients' suffering had failed once again. His features were drawn with fatigue, and it shone from his eyes, but he said nothing said nothing. White closed her eyes, sighing heavily.
"I've worked longer hours doing similar healings with Servalla and I never felt so worn out as I do now," she stated, more to herself than out loud.
Tygra raised his head up from where it rested on folded arms.
The mystic had mentioned a name he hadn't heard in years.
"You worked with Servalla?" he queried, disbelief evident in his tone. White couldn't be old enough to have known her! In a half sleepy response, White nodded.
"She was my teacher and friend. The one who died in the crash."
"But that's impossible!" Tygra breathed, astonished. "Tell me what you know of her." Questions whirled in his mind, his weariness momentarily forgotten. But her answers would have to wait.
She had dozed off, a Balkin baby nestled in her arms. Her soft features reminded Tygra that he, too, wished for that respite. As gently as he dared, he lifted the tiny child from White's slack grip and handed him over to his grateful parent. He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders tenderly, then curled up close by her. Sleep would not readily come, however. He set up again, casually studying the mystic's sleeping form. It was not her that he saw, rather, it was another fair tigress whose memory flooded his mind. Servalla, the Mystic, who encouraged the pursuit of his mind talents, who
brought a touch of kindness and softness to a male dominated household, and whose untimely loss left a void so empty for father and son alike.
Yet could it be possible? Could she have survived Bor-An? Tygra felt a stabbing pang of urgency to learn more of her fate. How had this young mystic known of her existence with such detail, if she hadn't lived to experience it? He would venture to follow up on this subject again, once this present situation was rectified. Content with that conviction in mind, Tygra closed his eyes, sleep's affects a sedative to his infernally-present headache.
CHAPTER V
By evening, Tygra and White had helped to construct several shelters for, the distressed Balkins. They joined the other ThunderCats back at the Lair well after the evening meal. Neither had the appetite nor the energy to eat though. When all were present, Lion-O called the group to council.
"We have a very serious problem before us. The damage this creature has rendered is tantamount. Panthro, what progress have the Berbils made up to now?" he asked.
The big men ticked off on his fingers. "We've managed to repair most of the damage to their homes and they've decided that it's best to harvest what's left now while it's still good. It was fortunate no one was hurt."
"That's good to hear. Also, the Warrior Maidens have managed to save the majority of their trees. It's a blessing the number injured was limited to just four. Tygra, what of the Balkins?"
Tygra rubbed tired bleary eyes. "I'm afraid they suffered substantially. All of their homes were wrecked and most of their food stores as well. We treated about twenty to thirty people, many with serious injuries and the majority of them youngsters. I hated to leave them alone, but we did get a few shelters up. We'll have to get food and supplies to them as soon as we can."
The others sat in rigid silence as Tygra delivered his grim accounting. Panthro growled menacingly.
"We've got to stop that thing once and for all, before it harms someone else!"
"But how, Panthro? We don't even know what it is," Wilykit said in a plaintive voice.
"Yes. How do we deal with something that pops in and out at will?" Cheetara added.
Lion-O shook his head. "I don't know, Cheetara. I don't have an answer to that. Maybe we can figure something out in the morning, after we've all had a chance to grab some sleep. I'm not so sure I feel comfortable sleeping, though, knowing those others are in such need."
White looked around at the dazed and exhausted faces ringing the table. She had not seen them so depressed. She knew theirs, as well as her own enduring spirits, were being pressed to their limits. What they needed was something to revitalize a sense of hope.
She left the room momentarily and returned with her harp and Tygra's flute. She handed it over to him, much to his surprise.
Wilykat peered at both of them. "I don't feel like singing in much the same way Lion-O feels about sleeping," he complained. White cupped his chin in her hand gently and smiled.
"Music helps the soul, my little friend, when it is troubled. We've all seen enough pain and destruction in the last few days to last a lifetime. We must allow ourselves to enjoy what respite we can. Jaga knows we've much work ahead of us that's tedious and unpleasant. I suspect the monster will be back to oblige us. Don't you agree?"
They acknowledged her with affirmative nods of their heads. Any distraction from recent tasks was welcome, so the mystic began to play softly, Tygra's accompaniment threading through her melody. It was not long before each one succumb to the music's lure and retired to bed, peacefully content, at least for this night.
***** The gibbous moon bathed the autumn landscape surrounding Cats' Lair with pale aura. White sat near the window in her room and gazed pensively at the meager points of light that marked the nearest constellations. She judged by the position of the lunar orb that it was well past midnight. Usually a sound sleeper, she found that tonight sleep would not come to her, even when she tried to meditate.
She felt tired to the bone, as she was sure the others did, from the constant demand their friends required. After several hours of restless tossing in bed, she finally gave up and sat by the window. She hoped a little star study would make her drowsy enough to fall asleep. Having no luck there, she got up and paced her room.
Finally, she slipped quietly out the door and strolled randomly through the dim corridors of the Lair. Perhaps a brief walk might abate the edgy feeling that subtly tickled at her nerves. Maybe it was the anonymity of the dark creature that plagued the ThunderCats and frustrated their every move. There one moment, gone the next. With their allies defenses down, the ThunderCats had taken upon themselves the full responsibility of protecting all in need and they were downright fatigued. White admired their stamina, for the Code demanded it of them.
Another thing that puzzled her still more, was her inability to spare Tygra the discomfort during the healings. She had performed extended healings before without difficulty, even when tired. It was as if she had lost her ability to concentrate. Something to indeed scrutinize more closely.
She found herself outside the doors to the control room and entered to find Cheetara standing watch, scanning with the telescopic viewer. The noblewoman turned when she heard the hiss of the door and mild surprise registered on her face when she saw the mystic. Cheetara faced full around and smiled.
"I thought everyone would be sound asleep by now," she remarked. White shrugged and smiled back.
"The spirit is willing but the body won't cooperate. I thought maybe a little walk would relax me. Do you mind the company?"
"No, not at all. Come, sit with me. Watch can be boring sometimes, especially this one, but we can't be too careful," Cheetara replied delightedly. She enjoyed White's friendship more and more and found it refreshing to have another woman among them to share her thoughts. She crossed her legs and sat back. "What is it that's on your mind? Surely you must be as tired as I feel."
White settled into the seat opposite her. "I'm not sure, really. I was up early and have been feeling restless and even a bit edgy. It's true that this weird specter has been on my mind, but I don't think that's the problem. Usually meditation helps me to relax but not now. I feel, well, different somehow. Goodness, I hope that I haven't been careless enough to pick up some illness!"
Cheetara studied her awhile. White was slightly older than Lion-O or at least the same age, as far as she could tell. Yes, it might be possible. White's puzzled face patiently waited for her assessment. She smiled again.
"White," she asked, placing her hands on the young woman's shoulder, "did you and Servalla ever discuss the start of your calling? Surely she must have mentioned it?"
"My calling? You mean my chosen profession? A11 the time!" White replied, a bit perplexed. Cheetara chuckled lightly at her innocent response.
"No, my friend. I mean your coming into your fertility cycle. A calling is just another term for it. You're old enough now, I would think. The symptoms certainly point in that direction, if I read them right."
"My fertility cycle? Oh my!" White interrupted, a look of shock on her face. Cheetara laughed outright and shook her gently.
"It's not so bad. There's nothing to fear. It's a sure sign that you've come into your full womanhood. I might add that it's quite pleasing to the men as well," she said with a coy wink.
Realization dawned on the mystic and she giggled nervously. Servalla had shared that knowledge with her, how long ago? It seemed like only yesterday. She anticipated what that would entail, but she still had other questions.
"What will I do, once I've come full cycle? I'm--I'm not sure I want to join my first time. And isn't it discomforting, especially for the males, when there is more than one of them?" Suddenly she felt uncomfortable and a tad frightened. Cheetara understood her uncertainty and tried to ease her fears.
"Yes, in a way, it is, but it's the way of our kind. As for your desire to hold off, I think you have the discipline to do so, and it wouldn't harm you to avoid joining this time. It'll give you a chance to understand these different feelings in your mind and body. As for holding off the males, well, that's another story. Your close proximity will surely arouse natural instincts. That could be a problem "
White listened with interest and cupped her chin in her hands thoughtfully.
"What if I absented myself from the Lair for awhile. Took a sojourn, so to speak. It's not uncommon for mystics to take solitary trips away. It's a practice we followed often on Thundera for meditation and soul-searching." Cheetara nodded slowly. "That might not be a bad idea. The men haven't shown any indication of being affected yet. But it will have to be discussed in council, of course."
"Why a discussion?" White wanted to know, a little too quickly.
"Because there are still dangers and other things we don't know of on Third Earth, and your safety in leaving at this time would be in question," Cheetara stated emphatically.
White bowed her head. Cheetara was right. Her role as a mystic was respected by the nobles, but she still had to answer to Lion-O's decision as Lord of the ThunderCats. Safety was a priority after all, especially against this current threat. She raised her head to look at her older friend.
"I'm sorry. You are right, of course. I guess I was thinking only of myself," she replied in a humble voice. Cheetara gave her a gentle hug.
"Don't worry. I don't think there'll be any problem. And I'll do what I can to help, okay?"
White's smile was gratifying. Suddenly she could barely keep her eyes open. "Thank you. You've been so kind. I think I can sleep now. Good night." She squeezed Cheetara's hand affectionately, then rose and left. Cheetara followed her retreat, then faced the console speculatively.
"I certainly hope there won't be a problem, my friend," she uttered.
***** Another listened attentively to the conversation between the two women. An evil, rumbling laughter echoed within Mumm-Ra's musty home.
"So, Mystic, you wish to take, a solo journey? How convenient of you to accommodate me. Heh, heh, heh. Makes my plans ever so much easier. Well, if it's a journey you want, a journey you'll most assuredly get! Yes, indeed, my shining counterpart, only it will be a trip from which you will never return. Your precious ThunderCat nobles will not be able to save you this time!"
The sorcerer slipped his withered hand beneath his cloak. When he withdrew it, a sparkling, green gem the size of his fist, rested within his palm.
"What woman could resist the tempting beauty of a jewel such as this? Soon my trap will be sprung and you will be the bait for those miserable ThunderCats. Then Third Earth will be returned to its rightful owner, ha, ha!"
CHAPTER VI
"You want to leave the Lair? Now? But why?" Tygra asked, leaning forward. The other adult ThunderCats and the Mystic sat round the council table as well, but Tygra directed his questions at White. White looked down at her hands nervously, carefully considering how she would word her response.
Cheetara interrupted in an easy inflection. "You may speak freely here, White. We hold no secrets among us." White glanced at her and drew confidence from her smile.
"Well," she began, then faltered. "I, uh, know it seems inappropriate at this time, but we mystics have a custom of taking sojourns alone and--" she paused, then continued. "And--well--it's basically for meditative purposes as well as for staying in tune with our natural surroundings. Sort of clears the mind of cobwebs, so to speak."
All except Cheetara exchanged puzzled glances. They listened patiently for her to resume. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, White lost her train of thought and looked helplessly at Cheetara.
The older woman sensed her embarrassment and spoke up. "What White is trying to say is that she's coming into her fertility cycle end she wants to avoid--the difficulty it might present to the rest of you." She shot a meaningful look at the older males. Panthro whistled softly, nodding his head knowingly. Lion-O, too, sighed and absently scratched his thick mane.
"That does present a problem, doesn't it?" he muttered.
Tygra sat back in his seat, folding his arms, silently regarding the mystic.
Panthro turned to White. "It's kind of you to consider our feelings, but where would you go?" he questioned, spreading his hands.
Lion-0 also added, "Yes, I'd like to know that, too. There are many places here on Third Earth we haven't even begun to explore nor do we dare to. Those individuals native to this world don't venture into some areas." White regarded each one as they spoke, absorbing their comments and information.
"Not to mention that misshapen monstrosity that's been roaming freely about," Tygra's level voice intoned. "I thought we agreed to be extra cautious when leaving the Lair and always with a partner. Until we're sure of what it is, I'm not so sure it would be wise for you to travel alone." White felt herself flush with more of a hint of rebellion than of embarrassment.
"You said yourself, Tygra, that we can't let things such as this rule our lives or we'd be prisoners of our own fears. It isn't as if I wouldn't be defenseless," she indicated, also spreading her palms.
Tygra opened his mouth to retort, but closed it in a frown. He clearly hadn't expected her response nor was it the one he wanted.
He drew his breath slowly. "It's true, I did say that, and it hasn't changed but--" he started to say in a controlled voice, but stopped. Cheetara took advantage of the pause to jump in.
"White, what did you mean about not being defenseless?" White reached under the table and drew out her staff, placing it on the tabletop.
"My staff has some powers that counterbalance my own gifts. Although I don't use weapons as a method of fighting, I'm still capable of self-defense arts that can disable without causing harm."
"I think we need to vote. Cheetara, what is your decision?" Panthro proffered. The female ThunderCat's mind was already made up.
"It's true that we have to be concerned about that thing, but I think White can handle herself better with that. Would it be fair to force her to stay here? None of us needs another distraction right now. We're all exhausted just keeping up with helping our friends."
Lion-O spoke up likewise. "Cheetara does have a point. Afterall, we let the kittens out and about. How long had you planned on being away?" White faced him, her hopes inflated.
"I thought a few weeks would do. That way, I'll be certain I present no 'distraction' as Cheetara calls it." She smiled sheepishly. "Besides, maybe I'll be able to help our neighbors who have been victims of the creature."
"Sounds reasonable enough to me. We can't be everywhere." Panthro commented. "What do you say, Tygra?" White returned her gaze in his direction.
"Tygra, I do appreciate your concern. I promise I'll be extra cautious and only go where we're all familiar with."
Tygra uncrossed his arms and took another deep breath. He was already outvoted and he knew it. Maybe it would work out. She had been more than helpful where everyone was concerned and he really didn't have a right to stop her. He exhaled his breath in a sigh.
"Will you at least take a communicator with you?" he replied, in a doubtful tone. He couldn't explain the uneasiness he felt and it showed on hisface.
White agreed to and said that she would choose the day after tomorrow to leave. When no further business needed be discussed, Tygra, as council head, dismissed them. They filed out to begin the day's chores. Tygra, alone, remained seated at the table, his shoulders slumped. White noted his posture and a feeling of doubt gripped her. She had won her right to leave but there was no victory in it. Cheetara touched her shoulder.
"Having second thoughts?" she asked kindly. White glanced at her, startled. Cheetara wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "He means well, White. That's his usual protectiveness surfacing. He'll abide by the council's decision. Don't worry, unless you've given him a reason to be overly concerned. The rest of us sometimes have a tendency to act before we think. Tygra is like a balance, who thinks before he acts. He'll get over it. If you believe that what you're doing is right, he'll admire you more for being honest and standing by your convictions. So, chin up, okay?"
White nodded, more heartened by Cheetara's observations. With one quick glance at Tygra's somber figure, she turned on her heel and followed Cheetara down the corridor.
***** When White struck out from the Lair, it was with an airy step and a pleased smile. She bid her friends farewell after breakfast. They wished her well, helping her to ready a light supply pack, but their concern was evident beneath the cheerful facade.
White felt a slight pang of guilt when Tygra silently handed her a communicator. She had forgotten it in her preparation, and thanked him awkwardly for remembering. When she met his steady gaze, however, she only saw a hint of warm amusement. She tucked the device into her pack securely, patting it to insure its safety.
With a wave of her hand, she strode off. Her first night out, was spent with the Warrior Maidens, checking with satisfaction on Rena, who was recovering nicely. The next few days were uneventful, the clean crisp scent of autumn air exhilarating. She found solace in the blueness of the sky by day, and the glitter of the stars by night. The mystic delighted in the antics of the animals and birds alike, waiting with painstaking stillness for their appearance. Often she was rewarded.
On the fifth day, she had travelled to within sight of a group of peaks that were purple from the setting sun. White began to cast about for a likely campsite. She found one in a stand of boulders, residue of an ancient avalanche. It offered shelter beneath a large, jutting rock and a hollow to keep out the chill wind. White ate a meal of dried fruits and cured strips of meat. She was pleasantly tired and knew sleep would come easily. She wrapped herself snugly in her cloak and had started to drift off when a clatter of falling stones brought her back to full wakefulness. Her senses keyed up, she barely avoided Monkian's descending mace. She flung her cloak in Jackalman's face as he sprang up, a crossbow at ready, to her other side. The bolt released and flew off somewhere above her head. Her groping fingers latched onto the crystal staff and she whirled it against Jackalman's legs, upending him. He yelped in pain as he landed hard on his back. Monkian lunged at her again, but White scooped up her pack And launched it at him. It hit him square in the face. He stumbled backwards from the impact.
White did not wait to see how they fared. She boosted herself upward onto the overhang with the aid of her staff. She climbed, controlled fear urging her on. She was already tiring. She could hear the two Mutants pursuing. The unmistakable sound of engines sent chills of terror down her spine. They were going to attack her in the skycutters! She stumbled on.
White tore at the long skirt of her gown. It had begun to hamper her progress and she flung the pieces away. Her pale fur was an easy target for her pursuers and they located her without trying. Both opened up with their laser cannons. White dropped between two huge boulders in time as the bolts cracked dangerously close by. Her breath came in gasps as she tried to assess how to get out of this situation. She still clung to her staff.
The Mutants' craft changed pitch as they circled for another pass. White cringed low, several more bursts striking nearby. This won't due, she thought. As if to mock her, Tygra's warning reared itself up in her mind. She felt like a foolish girl. Not realizing it, she projected her fear outward with her telepathic senses. Anger replaced it as the Mutants closed in again. White scanned her surroundings quickly. A small opening ahead in the rocks gave her an idea. She decided to make her stand. She leaped forward from her cover and displayed herself to her tormentors, staff in front of her.
The skycutters bore down on her, lasers ablaze. White stood perfectly still, the blue crystal pointed outward. She closed her eyes in concentration, focusing her powers on the crystal with her mind's eye. It flared blue-white light that encompassed both vehicles. The Mutants screamed in confusion and were temporarily blinded by the glare. With an effort, they wrenched the skycutters around, narrowly missing colliding with the rocks and each other.
They managed to right the spinning aircraft and gave up, heading away until they were no longer visible. White dropped to her hands and knees, relieved but spent. It was some time before she was able to summon the strength to stand. She was supremely weary and felt cold as the night breeze stirred around her. She'd lost her cloak and pack and wasn't sure in which direction to look in her hasty escape. The mystic searched for shelter. It was too dark to attempt climbing down and she was too exhausted to risk it. She needed to sleep. The use of her mind energy had drained her completely. She barely tumbled into a small, secluded cave and was fast asleep before her head settled on her folded arms.
***** Mumm-Ra hovered near the dark cauldron, an evil leer plastered on his face. He gloated at the image of the mystic battling the Mutants. When he saw her standoff, however, he frowned.
"Fools!" he rumbled, "I send you to do a simple chore of dispatching that foolish girl and all you do is bungle! No matter. The attack has served its purpose. Yes, Mystic, your powers weaken more as each day passes. Tomorrow, then, I will promise you a permanent vacation in which you will sleep forever!" Mumm-Ra cackled, shaking his fists above his head. "Wouldn't you agree, my Dark Messenger of Doom?" The black specter rasped, in earnest, red eyes flaming, as it floated nearby its dreaded master.
***** Several days passed following the mystic's departure and they were filled with long hours of hard work. Much of it was now concentrated on aiding the Balkins reconstruct their city. The Berbils donated some of their limited harvest and the Warrior Maidens hunted for game to supplement it. Miraculously, no more calls of distress came from other peoples, but the ThunderCats were not fooled into believing the threat had passed. Every night they returned to the Lair, bone-weary and hungry. Snarf's cooking made up for that and sleep came quickly for all, save one.
Tygra paced his room, the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, increasing with his every step. He couldn't shake the ominous suggestion of impending danger. They had not heard from the mystic since her leave taking. For some unknown reason Tygra could not fathom, it exasperated him. What's more, his desire to converse with her on the subject of Servalla, had been put aside in favor of the pressing needs of their neighbors. With her away, it would have to wait yet longer. That irritated him even more. He tried to convince himself that it was just worry that caused his agitation, but he knew better. He paced more slowly and stopped to stare out the window.
He recalled the recent days with the Warrior Women and the Balkins. White had needed him to help with the healings. He was no healer. Why was it so difficult for her those times, when she had managed well enough before? Not that he minded aiding her. Her complaint regarding that was said in innocence, but his perceptive ears picked up the subtle nuances of concern in her voice. Could the arrival of her fertility cycle have some affect on her powers? If it did, White would be in more danger than any of them anticipated.
That notion did not sit very well with him either. He would have to consult Cheetara on that matter.
There was yet another issue that disturbed him and could not be ignored as easily as he'd hoped to. A long dormant yearning stirred within him. White had said that she would leave to spare them, but he wondered if it was already too late for him. These feelings teased him since she left and even though he tried to deny them, the cravings persisted. He shook his head angrily. This wasn't the time to allow personal feelings to get in the way of the business at hand.
That night his sleep was fitful. He awoke with a start, the vestiges of a nightmare lingering on the edge of his consciousness.
In it, the Mutants leered with malice as they attacked the mystic, their deadly craft firing upon her. She raised her staff in defense, the blue crystal atop it flashing with a brilliance that blinded him. Screams filtered through the light, then there was nothing.
Tygra found that he was panting hard, his heart pounding against his ribs. Sweat bathed his body and he realized that he was trembling. The dream had seemed so real, as though he was a witness to it. He shuddered, looking around in the dark of his room. He guessed the dream was brought on by an overly fatigued brain, stemming from his concern for the mystic's safety. When he tried to sleep again, it was not restful. Just as he began to dream, he jerked awake and remained so until the early light of dawn touched the sky.
CHAPTER VII
Tygra slammed his fist down on the communications console. Frustration tightened his features and burned in his eyes.
"Why doesn't she answer?" he muttered under his breath. After several futile attempts to contact the mystic, Tygra's temper became more heated. "Something must be wrong!" He tapped a different frequency, but dead silence answered him. He took a deep breath and drummed his fingers impatiently. The door behind him slid open and Panthro and Lion-O entered.
"There you are, Tygra. I've been looking all over for you," Panthro exclaimed in a pleasant greeting.
"Yes," Lion-O interjected, "We thought it's as good a time as any to tackle that thundrillium mine. Since all of our time has been directed at helping our friends, we've been neglecting our--what's the matter, Tygra?" He paused. Tygra had turned from the console to face them. His overall countenance was taut. Panthro put a hand on his forearm.
"Something come over the communicator?" he asked, thinking that someone else had been visited by the monster, as they'd come to refer to it.
"No," Tygra answered tightly. "That's the problem. Nothing's come over the radio. Nothing at all!" He eyed the silent microphone, frowning. Lion-O and Panthro exchanged puzzled glances. Panthro spread his hands.
"I would think a quiet radio would be welcomed right now, after all the activity we've had of late. Why the worry?"
Tygra's frown deepened. "Why worry? Because White had promised to keep in touch, that's why!" he snapped back. "There hasn't been one single transmission since she's left!"
So that's it, Panthro thought to himself. "She's only been gone a few lays, Tygra. I'm sure she'll call if it's necessary," he vocalized discreetly. Lion-O stepped up to the architect and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Panthro's correct. The Sword would certainly warn us if she's in danger. Come on, Tygra, lighten up. Why don't you give Panthro a hand with the mining. I'll stay and monitor the console. I promise to let you know if she gets in touch, okay?"
Tygra's instincts warred with their sensible statements. He ran his hand absently over the buttons on the control panel, then pulled it away. He was still not convinced, but he nodded, eyes lowered.
"I guess we better get started, then. Coming, Panthro?" he stated, modulating his tone. He spun on his heel and headed for the door briskly. Panthro and Lion-O shrugged at each other. The young lord's indication with his head told Panthro that he better get moving before Tygra changed his mind. Panthro gave him the thumb's up signal and followed Tygra out.
Tygra rode in reserved silence alongside of Panthro, as the Tank bumped over some rugged terrain. The panther studied his friend from the corner of his eye. The latter's mood has been mercurial of late, laced with an edginess Panthro rarely saw exhibited from him. Tygra's coolheadedness generally dominated, even in crisis situations. He wondered absently what, besides the mystic's lack of communications, set Tygra off. Tygra looked awfully tired, but then all of them did. Several times it appeared that Tygra wanted to say something but changed his mind.
Tygra recalled the conversation he'd had in the control room with Lion-O and Panthro. He realized that what they said held merit. Of course the Sword of Omens would be the first indicator of trouble, but it did not explain why White failed to respond to his transmissions. He had surreptitiously monitored any changes in their personalities, but both remained calm and unaffected. Why me, only? he thought with dismay. His insides painfully rebelled with his usual, disciplined control. He ran a weary hand across his face and sighed heavily.
Panthro caught the gesture but said nothing. He knew Tygra absorbed a lot of worry the rest of them often took for granted. They didn't always tell him about things they thought might unsettle him, but he doubted Tygra missed much. Maybe his agitation about the mystic had more justification than Tygra had revealed. Once they stopped at the mine, he would give Lion-O a call, if it would allay Tygra's anxiety.
***** White awoke, her body stiff and leaden. She peered around, confused as to where she was. Then she recalled the previous night's encounter. She flexed her limbs and shivered. The sunlight beckoned invitingly and she crawled out of the cave to warm herself. She craned her neck cautiously, searching to be certain the Mutants had not returned to harass her. A small smile touched her lips. She hadn't realized she could summon such a power. At least it was enough to scare them off.
But her situation was not at all well. She longed for the warmth of her cloak and food lost in the pack. She would have to go back to look for them or her journey would end right here and now. Her smooth body fur might protect her for a time, but lack of food and water would weaken her more than she felt now. She could not even call for help. Tygra's face appeared suddenly in her mind. He had an uncanny way of anticipating such emergencies. He had not criticized her for forgetting, but she detected his concern by the set of his jaw. She understood how vital his serious precautions meant. After all, the ThunderCats had lived on Third Earth much longer than her, and did not take their safety lightly. She must remember to heed their warnings more closely, once she'd returned to the Lair.
The mystic started picking her way down through the tumble of rocks, the cool breeze swirling her tufted hair around her face. Without warning, the bright sunlight was blotted out. White paused and turned, thinking a large cloud had passed in front of it. Her blue eyes widened with terror as the amoeba-shaped apparition descended on her. Panic gripped her and she stumbled at a breakneck run over stone obstacles. Its flame eyes followed her retreat mockingly, just out of range. White was too far from her cave, but decided that she didn't wish to be cornered in it by this horror anyway.
She glanced over her shoulder. The thing stayed behind as if allowing her time to wear herself out. Then, she was keenly positive, it would catch her. Up ahead, she spotted a great fissure in the side of a stubby rock formation. She dropped to all fours and thrust herself forward with her remaining vigor. Once inside, she hugged the wall, trying to fill her starved lungs. The shadow-beast seeped in easily by merely altering its shape. White ascertained, a sinking pall in her chest, that there was nowhere for her to go, so she aimed her staff at the specter in desperation. The creature's red eyes flashed and twin beams struck the crystal, knocking it from her hands. She raised her arms to protect herself as the thing reached out for her. In utter despair, she realized she was no match for it. She was going to die here and no one would know. But she opened her mind anyway in hopes that someone, anyone would hear her cry for help. The creature displayed a green gem before her eyes and it flashed intensely. White screamed out loud and with her mind, reaching for the only one she knew she could mind-touch.
"Tygra!" was all she managed to cry before the blackness enveloped her.
***** Panthro and Tygra worked together, as they tossed huge thundrillium crystals into the trailer-cart Panthro rigged to the rear of the ThunderTank. When it was nearly full, Panthro called a halt. He worked some stiffness loose in his broad shoulders.
"This doesn't get any easier. I'd forgotten how heavy these crystals get when ya hafta lift them manually. Can't figure how that lift-chute got stuck. I better fix it first thing in the morning," he grumbled. Tygra straightened from where he bent over a pile a wry grin spread across his face.
"Nothing wrong with that chute, Panthro. It's those old bones of yours that need to be oiled," he teased, his usual wit returned somewhat.
"What?!" Panthro growled in mock anger. He picked up a large piece of the thundrillium and tossed it at Tygra. The other caught it easily enough and held it in front of him, chuckling. Panthro smiled, then, glad to see Tygra in a more cheerful frame of mind. He turned his back on him and reached for another load.
Tygra hefted the stone to put it in the cart, but it tumbled from his hands instead, thudding in the dust. He cried out, nearly doubling over. His laughter changed to distress and he grabbed his head. He reared up to his full height and fell back against the cavern wall. With lightning speed, Panthro was at his side, supporting him.
"Tygra, what is it?" he begged, confused and a little frightened. Tygra clutched at him, his claws digging into flesh, eyes wild with horror. Panthro ignored the pain and gripped his shoulders tighter.
"Tell me, Tygra, for Jaga's sake!" he said more forcefully.
"White!" Tygra gasped, "She needs me!" He tore himself from Panthro's grasp and bolted for the entrance to the mine. Too stunned to respond, Panthro leaped after him. He caught hold of Tygra's arm when they cleared the opening and spun him around to face him.
"How do you know that? There wasn't anything on the communicator!" he demanded firmly, trying to settle Tygra down.
"She called me!" Tygra shouted hysterically and wrenched free. Panthro let him go. Tygra bound away like a man possessed.
Panthro knew he could never catch him, especially with the extra load on the ThunderTank. He didn't even know where Tygra was going. He ran back into the mine and leaped into the Tank. With a roar, the vehicle came to life. Panthro gunned it and felt the extra drag as he raced back to Cats' Lair.
Crazy tiger's given leave of his senses, Panthro thought, then checked that notion immediately. Tygra was not one to go off half-cocked and Panthro was suddenly afraid for him. He shook his head in confusion and swore under his breath. He needed the others to help here. He screeched to a halt inside the Lair bay and ran to where Cheetara and Lion-O were conducting systems checks on the Feliner. They ceased what they were doing upon his approach. He seized each by a hand and pulled them after him towards the Tank.
"Hurry, Lion-O, Cheetara! We've got to go after Tygra!" he said breathlessly.
"Where did he go? What happened?" Cheetara asked curiously, as they piled into the Tank. Panthro disconnected the trailer-cart, then floored the accelerator and blasted out of the hangar.
"We were loading up the thundrillium and everything was fine. All of a sudden he lets out a yell and falls back against the wall. I thought he was having some sort of seizure. When I asked what was wrong, he kept saying that White needed him. I don't know how he knew that, 'cause nothing came over the radio. I couldn't calm him down and he took off for the hills like the devil was after him."
Lion-O and Cheetara exchanged troubled stares. Lion-O asked outright, "He was upset this morning in the control room, but I thought we'd settled that. He said nothing else to you?" Panthro nodded.
"Yeah, he said she called him."
"What happened in the control room?" Cheetara put in.
"Tygra was livid because White hadn't checked in. My guess is that he tried to contact her and didn't get a response. We told him that she was probably okay because the Sword was quiet," Lion-O stated with a shrug. Cheetara ran her fingers through her golden hair. She remembered something.
"Tygra's telepathic. So is White. Maybe she reached him that way. And the Sword still hasn't spoken."
Lion-O pulled the sword from the claw-shield and spoke to it. Its sight only revealed a bleak, snow-covered peak where a blizzard raged. He could not detect anything more, other than a sense of foreboding.
"It only shows me a mountain I'm not familiar with, but I sense evil there," he reported, replacing the sword.
"So where are they?" Panthro said in exasperation.
"There's someone who might be able to tell us where, Lion-O," Cheetara said. Lion-O turned to her questioningly. "Mumm-Rana. She'd know something if it posed a threat to anyone other than Mumm-Ra and the Mutants."
"To the white pyramid, then, Panthro. Maybe she'll know that mountain." Panthro nodded and headed in an adjacent direction.
CHAPTER VIII
White awoke to bitter cold. She was alone on a ledge in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. Snow whirled in vicious zephyrs, piling up near the cliff wall at her back. She hugged herself in an effort to stay warm, her legs tucked beneath her. Where in Thundera am I? she thought. She pulled herself up on shaky legs. Her visibility was no more than a few feet. She searched for her staff in vain. White took a couple of tentative steps to either side of her position. Both times a probing foot found empty space. No where to go. With teeth chattering, she slid back down in despair.
A pale red aura materialized in front of her. White squinted through the snow. The red-cloaked bulk that was Mumm-Ra shaped itself. White cringed back.
"Welcome, Mystic, to Mt. Doom. Your foolish ThunderCat friends will never find you here. When I set forth my proposal, they will gladly give up the Sword for your return. Only they will be destroyed for their weakness they call love!" He chortled with confidence.
"They--will--never--bow--to--you. Mumm-Ra!" the mystic implied, lifting her chin.
"Oh, yes they will! Even now they search for you. You will be the bait to snare them. Ha, ha ha!" He vanished. White felt a terrible loneliness. She did not want to be the instrument of their destruction. If only she could warn them somehow. Her mind powers were pitifully depleted. No strength left. The cold deadened her senses. She began to weep.
***** Tygra ran on, oblivious to his surroundings and the searing pain in his overworked lungs. He stumbled on through forests and open country, brown leaves dancing along the wind around him. Their rustling cacophony seemed to laugh mockingly at him, but he ignored it. White's desperate cry for help drew him on like a magnet to a lodestone. To make matters worse, he found that the intense ache in his loins was now far beyond his ability to control. Angry shame at his weakness despaired him, and he berated himself. He focused his attention ahead of him.
He slowed when he came into sight of the fallen boulders White had passed the day before. He had no time to speculate how it was he knew to come this way. He paused to catch his wind and leaned heavily against a scored stone. Tygra ran his fingers over the deep gouges. Burn marks edged them. The tall ThunderCat growled softly in his throat. Only laser fire could have inflicted such damage.
He pushed on, climbing over more rocks. It wasn't long before he located the campsite. The pack lay where White had thrown it. Tygra dug into the side-pocket and found the communicator. It was smashed to pieces. His stomach knotted. He left the pack where he found it. A frantic search turned up White's lavender cloak, tangled in some thorn bushes. He clutched it tightly, her scent sharply clinging to it. He grimaced in agony, eyes darting for the route she might have taken. The strewn boulders made climbing difficult, but his keyed up senses found her trail.
He followed it to the cave-like fissure. Tygra crept into it cautiously. White's scent was evident, but Tygra detected another's--musty, like rotten flesh, and evil. Fighting to contain the rising bile in his throat, his night vision located White's blue crystal staff. He started to pick it up carefully.
"So nice of you to drop by, ThunderCat," an ominous voice echoed behind him. Tygra whirled, dropping the staff, the bolo whip appearing in his hand. Mumm-Ra perched on a ledge above him end chortled. Tygra bared his teeth and snarled.
"Where is she, Mumm-Ra?!" he hissed. "What have you done with her?"
Mumm-Ra laughed again. Then he pointed a finger at Tygra and stated, "Where you'll be soon enough!" Something flickered in Tygra's peripheral vision. He tensed as he twisted fully around to see what it was. The shadow moved towards him, red-mouth gaping, its hellish eyes boring into his. Fear washed over him, threatening to paralyze his movements. Tygra wrested his eyes away, breaking the creature's mental hold on him. He lashed out with the whip, the bolos energized.
They hit the phantom a blow that crackled sickeningly, the released energy engulfing the thing. The charge temporarily halted its forward progress and it rasped maniacally. Tygra spun to face Mumm-Ra, but the sorcerer had taken that moment to produce a green gem from his belt, aiming it straight at the ThunderCat. Green-white light shot forth, hitting Tygra directly in the eyes. The architect gasped in pain, then collapsed at Mumm-Ra's feet.
"You wish to join your precious mystic, Tygra? Then I'll be most obliged to show you!" Mumm-Ra gloated. The black specter enshrouded the unconscious noble and together with Mumm-Ra, vanished without a trace.
***** Yellowed grasses waved in ripples on the broad plain where a stark white pyramid jutted up symmetrically. Four intricately sculpted obelisks stood at each corner like graceful ward-sentinels.
Inside, magnificent marble statues towered above a sparkling clear cauldron. The writings on the walls depicted an era long-gone and were alien to the three ThunderCat nobles who briefly studied them. Unlike Mumm-Ra's dingy haunt, the home of Mumm-Rana, the Good, was immaculate and tidy. The sorceress herself, was a picture of simple beauty, her pale cloak and wrappings, neat and preserved.
She rose from her resting stone to greet them. She raised her hand, palm facing outward, in a gesture of friendship. Lion-O returned the gesture in similar fashion.
"Welcome, Lord Lion-O and friends. It has been a while since our last meeting. What matter of urgency brings you to my humble home? It is evident in your faces that your visit is not merely for pleasantries."
"I thank you for your courtesy in allowing us to see you. You are indeed correct, Mumm-Rana, I wish this visit was purely sociable, but two of our friends are missing. We hope you could help us in some way," Lion-O replied.
"Tell me what has happened." Lion-O related the story of the mystic's departure and Tygra's subsequent flight after her. He mentioned the strange mountain in the Sword's vision, holding the weapon up for Mumm-Rana to view. The sorceress folded her hands solemnly beneath her cloak.
"I know that mountain, my friends. It is called Mt. Doom. If your friends have gone there, their chances of survival are nil. Access to it is impossible from the ground. It is ravaged by severe blizzards that would kill any living thing within hours."
"Lion-O, we don't even know whether they've gone that way," Panthro uttered gravely.
"Wait," Mumm-Rana said softly. She pressed one of her hands upon her temple, the other on the Eye of Thundera. She closed her eyes in concentration. A pale blue aura became visible around her figure. At the same time, the Eye of Thundera glowed bright red and growled, opening fully. Together she and Lion-O observed the mountain, this time more clearly. Amidst the swirling snow and howling winds, they could decipher two half-buried figures huddled together. Despite the movement surrounding them, the figures remained chillingly still. Suddenly the vision was gone. Mumm-Rana opened her eyes to face her guests.
"They are there and they are dying," she stated in a somber voice.
Lion-O appealed to her. "How is it I didn't see them before?"
"There is a powerful spell concealing them from our sight," Mumm-Rana declared. "They were sent there by a transporter gem. By Mumm-Ra, no doubt. That spell is the evil you sensed. I will help you, ThunderCats. We must leave with all possible haste. I will show you where the mountain stands, for their time is short."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Cheetara prompted, waving them out.
***** Tygra was cold. Ice and snow crusted his eyes when he came to. He could hardly breathe. He lurched to his feet dazedly and was nearly plucked from the meager ledge by the force of the wind. He dropped to his hands and knees again. Have to get out of this headwind, he thought numbly. He groped gingerly in front of him like blind man. He moved forward slowly, changing direction when his hand slipped off into nothingness. He could barely discern the faint shadow of a cliff face and turned towards it. Tygra's fingers encountered a shivering mound. Beneath the snow, he felt soft fur. His heart leaped. He scrabbled at the snow with aching fingers and pulled the figure into a sitting position. Her scent was unmistakable.
White reached out limply, too weak to hold unto him. Tygra gathered her close, trying to warm her with his own body.
"I'm--here, White!" his voice carried away, lost in the howling storm. "Don't give up!" Must find some cover, he deducted frantically. He risked a glance around him, squinting to shield his eyes from the stinging sleet. The wind abated ever-so-slightly and the snow fell straight down briefly. It was enough for Tygra to detect the darker outline of an opening in the mountain. A very narrow ledge reached around to it. It would be fatal if they slipped, but he had to get White out of this.
He spoke into her hair. "White, there's a cave to our right, slightly below us. It's our only chance. Come on, stand up!" He coaxed her to her feet, then supported her around the waist tightly. She was listless and staggered along beside him. Have to keep moving, he thought grimly.
By shear luck, he got them both into the cave without falling They tumbled inside next to each other. Tygra rubbed her arms and shoulders to keep her from freezing and alternately did the same for himself. At least they were out of the direct wind.
"T--Tygra! I'm--so--c-cold," she whimpered. He pulled her to him again, painfully aware of what her proximity was doing to him. He grimaced involuntarily, her fragrance, heady in his nostrils. White had barely time to consider her own rising need while trekking about. With his strong chest pressed warmly against her breasts, the mystic was acutely aware of his musky scent, which in turn, stimulated her arousal. She shivered guiltily.
"I'm sorry, Tygra!" she said in a choked whisper. He stroked her hair tenderly. There was something he needed to know.
"Shhh, it's all right!" he murmured gently. "Try not to think of it." He paused, then added. "Tell me about Servalla, instead."
White leaned away from him for a moment. Shp saw a genuine earnestness in his eyes. And he was attempting to divert her thoughts away from the bitter cold. Her hand automatically went to the necklace fastened at her throat. She began in a halting voice. "She was a lady of great respect. When I--was first assigned to her, she had just returned from Bor-An. She was terribly ill.
"For a time she couldn't remember what had happened to her or who she was. A freighter pilot found her and flew her back to Thundera. She was the--only one--we knew of--who had survived that."
White paused, leaning against him once more. Tygra wrapped his arms around her shoulders. White continued. "When she began to recall things, it was piecemeal. As we became closer, Servalla requested that I remain as her student. She related to me many tales of her travels, but said there was one thing that saddened her. She had a son and mate who she'd left behind on Thundera. She feared they were both lost when the planet exploded."
White paused reflectively, a hint of a smile in her weary eyes. She balanced the pendant on her stiff fingers for Tygra to see.
"She fashioned the necklace as a gift for her son, in case, by some chance, he had survived. She died, as you know, when we crashed and that dream was never fulfilled. She had given it--to me for safekeeping."
Tygra listened intently, his present situation momentarily forgotten. He did not remember Servalla ever having a mate nor of her having a son. His curiosity got the best of him.
Who was her mate?" he queried slowly, a strange urgency prompting him to ask. White did not answer right away. She huddled closer to him, the deepening cold making her shake more visibly. Her speech came with great difficulty. Tygra's senses were becoming dulled as well and it was harder to keep from giving in to sleep. The snow blew in with more force and while they talked, it had accumulated rapidly about them. It clung to their fur in icy crystals. Tygra shook himself awake. He shook White. She stirred weakly.
"What--was--his--name, White?" Tygra pleaded this time.
White barely managed to say it. She was drifting off. "S-Siberan. Someone--named--Siberan. Oh,why--doesn't someone come--for us?" she muttered faintly.
Tygra squeezed his eyes shut. A sick feeling gripped his stomach. Siberan, not Siberan! he thought.
He vaguely responded to White's request, mumbling numbly, "Someone--will--come. ThunderCats--will--come." Then he buried his face in her hair.
CHAPTER IX
Mumm-Rana and the Thunderians stood in a small clearing, looking out at the jagged contours of Mt. Doom. It was nearly covered white by the early storm they could see obscuring its peak.
Mumm-Rana had transformed herself into her more powerful form. She turned to her friends. "I can only take one of you with me. We'll have to penetrate the ward-spell to rescue them. It will require much of my powers to make the transfer twice," she stated.
"I'll go, Mumm-Rana," Lion-O volunteered. "They're my responsibility."
"Very well. Prepare yourself," she replied with a nod, taking his hand. Panthro and Cheetara backed up next to the ThunderTank and wished them luck. Mumm-Rana closed her eyes and uttered an ancient spell. Without warning, Lion-O felt a wrenching sensation of his body and suddenly found himself fighting to keep his feet in the frigid gale. Mumm-Rana pulled him towards a dark cave.
Snow clogged the entrance partway. They located the others in a recess near the back, Tygra's russet fur the only color marking the spot. The rescuers worked quickly to dig the to free, then separate the near-frozen bodies. Lion-O supported Tygra under the arms and Mumm-Rana held White close. Cold bit into them fiercely. Lion-O joined hands with Mumm-Rana again and the four disappeared, from the cave, their passage obliterated by fresh blown snow.
***** Mumm-Ra had returned to his dark pyramid after depositing Tygra on Mt Doom, the dark creature settled beside him near his crypt. Mumm-Ra called up the ward-spell and sent it off to blanket the peak. He smiled coldly and spoke to the specter with a flare of his hand.
"I have them now and Lion-O will have to crawl to me to bargain for their lives. Their stupid Code of Thundera will be their downfall!" The creature rasped eagerly.
Mumm-Ra stepped up to the cauldron smugly. The waters churned and bubbled at his command.
"Show me, oh Forces of Darkness, where that whelp, Lion-O, is presently," he said with glee. Tendrils rose in purple streamers and images came together on the water's surface. Lion-O, Panthro, and Cheetara stood with Mumm-Rana, the sorceress, in the glade below Mt. Doom. To Mumm-Ra's chagrin, he saw that Tygra and White, the Mystic, were with them as well. The sorcerer flung his arms up in rage.
"NO! That cannot be!" he ranted. "They could not possibly have escaped my spell! Wretched witch-woman has interfered with my plans for the last time. I will not allow it! You'll pay dearly for that, ThunderCats!"
He whipped hid cloak beck from his shoulders, spreading his arms wide.
"Forces of Evil! Transform this decayed form to Mumm-Ra, the Ever-Living!" he chanted. The bandages ripped apart as muscles bulged and the sorcerer grew to giant size. He thrust himself upward to the pyramid's apex, the red cloak like a bat's wings, fluttering behind him. With a fierce bellow, he disappeared into the fast-fading sunlight.
***** Mumm-Rana walked White around a while to help restore the circulation the cold mountain had threatened to end. The mystic clung to her for support. Lion-O steadied Tygra, as the latter also flexed frozen limbs back to life. Tiny ice crystals rimmed Tygra's fur and short mane, but were already melting with the warmer air. He shivered once, then gestured to Lion-O that he could stand on his own, his grateful eyes silently extended his thanks, then shifted to the glade where Mumm-Rana and White stood quietly talking.
"She'll be all right, Tygra, but we better get you two back to the Lair to warm up." Tygra smiled and nodded. He started in the direction of the glade, but froze in his tracks as a vicious voice boomed overhead. Everyone looked up in alarm. Mumm-Ra hovered near the clearing where the mystic and the sorceress stood. Tygra growled deep in his throat, crouching slightly as if ready to pounce.
Mumm-Ra cackled threateningly, "Mumm-Rana, you, broke my spell once before, but if you think you've defeated me, you are very wrong!"
"Go away, Mumm-Ra, and leave these gentle people alone. Your evil has no place here," the sorceress countered.
"You fool witch! I will have my revenge and you'll not be able to stop me. I'll destroy you as well as these worthless creatures."
White began to back away from Mumm-Rana as the sorceress turned fully to face her adversary. White reached out with her mind to Tygra for support. The vile Mumm-Ra frightened her beyond her control and she knew Tygra understood this demon better than herself.
*Tygra?* she sent.
Tygra caught her questing mind and was about to send his response when the true meaning of Mumm-Ra's words hit him. His body tensed like a wound spring.
The loathsome devil-priest flung out his arms, then thrust them forward, releasing a powerful bolt of pure energy. It impacted the ground like an erupting volcano, swallowing up White, Mumm-Rana and half the glade. Tygra leaped to their defense, too late. Still linked with the mystic, he felt the excruciating pain that exploded within her mind. He screamed, clutching his head and fell to his knees. He slipped deeper into a pool of blackness, as he fought to hold unto the barely perceptible touch they shared.
He couldn't breathe, vaguely sensing that he was drowning. He panicked and pushed to reach her, but lost her completely.
"NO!" his mind cried. He was suffocating and could not pull himself back. Darkness washed over him and he remembered no more.
***** Air. Sounds. No light. Air pressing into his lungs. More sounds? No, voices. Desperate voices. Dull pain. Alive? Air again.
Then, "Keep trying, Panthro!"
Try what? More air, harder this time. Breathe. Yes, have to breathe. Sweet air! Tygra gasped. Must stay above the surface. Can't drown. He gasped again. Raw pain scraped at the edges of his mind and shot through his body like daggers. He struggled to stay afloat. Someone grabbed his hand.
"He's breathing on his own, Panthro. Let, off!"
A softer voice. Don't let go. Can't swim! The grip held.
"That's it, Tygra. Keep breathing deeply."
The heaviness in his chest eased somewhat.
"I think he's coming around now," the first voice said.
Lion-O? Tygra'a eyelid fluttered open. He couldn't focus clearly. Pain rocketed across his vision as the pale light of late afternoon invaded his pupils. He closed his eyes again. The afterimage of the light hovered in front of him. A shadow crossed over and settled near him.
"Tygra?" said the deeper voice of Panthro "Can you hear me?" Then to the others, "He's still out of it. Must have been too close to that blast. Probably in shock."
Tygra wanted to say that he did hear, but his throat seemed paralyzed. His muscles felt cold. He would ask the mystic about that.
White! He forced his eyes open a second time. The light was kinder now, but it still hurt. He tried to ask for the mystic, but could only manage a hoarse groan. Panthro leaned over him again.
"What's that? Easy, Tygra, easy. Can you sit up?" Panthro coaxed. He slid his hand behind Tygra's head, gently easing him to a sitting position. The tiger winced as stars burst before his eyes, black fingers tugging at his consciousness. He slumped against Panthro's broad chest, fighting off the darkness.
"White?" he croaked through ragged breaths. Cheetara held a cup of water to his lips, forcing him to drink. Some of the cool water trickled down his throat, more of it down his chin, neck and chest, causing him to shiver involuntarily. Panthro massaged the back of Tygra's neck gently.
"She's gone, Tygra, along with Mumm-Rana," he said in a barely audible whisper. Tygra looked at him stupidly, none of it registering then the memory of her agony echoed in his brain. A hollow emptiness closed in around him and he embraced it.
Panthro watched his face for a time, but Tygra stared off vaguely. The big man shook him lightly, but Tygra remained mute, locked inside himself. After a moment, Panthro stood up, drawing Lion-O and Cheetara after him with a sharp nod of his head. When Mumm-Ra surprised them, they hardly had time to react. With the onset of the explosion, Panthro had simultaneously grabbed Lion-O's arm and pushed Cheetara to the ground, utilizing the cover of the ThunderTank. Tygra had been out of his immediate reach. When the fallout subsided, Panthro made sure the other two were okay, then led the search for the other three. The mystic and Mumm-Rana had vanished along with a handful of trees. Only a large, crater-like depression remained, the blackened stumps of once-living trees, smoldering.
They found Tygra, face down in a ditch, not breathing. Panthro rolled him over on his back and forcefully began breathing life back into the still body. It was a technique he'd learned during a survival training class many years ago on Thundera. He was utterly relieved to see his younger friend respond to it accordingly.
Now he glanced over his shoulder at Tygra. He didn't think that Tygra was injured, but it scared him to even consider that his longtime friend had been so close to death. The latter was not even aware of it himself, Panthro was certain. It was bad enough that they'd lost the kindly Mumm-Rana and the gentle mystic. Panthro scowled and slapped the nunchucks in his palm angrily. He wanted revenge like never before. A glance at Cheetara told him that she was more than perturbed as well. She gripped her baton with both hands.
Lion-O stood with the Sword of Omens unsheathed at his side, his hand gripped tightly around its hilt. He glared at the naked sky, at the spot where he last saw Mumm-Ra.
"How dare he kill one of ours and expect to pay no compensation!" the young lord snarled. Barely controlled anger seethed in him. "It's time the Mutants and Mumm-Ra account for their deeds!" The Sword came up before him at ready.
"And how will you go about it, Lion-O? With the Sword of Omens?" Tygra's quiet voice prompted. He had roused himself somewhat, from his dazed state by the ThunderTank. With a barely perceptible step, he had come up behind his companions. He put a firm hand on Lion-O's arm as he spoke. "That would be all wrong. The Sword cannot be used for vengeance." Lion-O whirled to face him, naked fury glaring from his eyes.
"The Mystic was one of us, Tygra! You, of all people, should see that! She never hurt anyone and by all of Thundera, they will pay if I have to tear down Mumm-Ra's pyramid and Castle PlunDarr stone by rotten stone to get to them. It would be cowardly to stand back and do nothing!" He yanked his arm from Tygra's grip.
Lion-O immediately regretted his rashness as an ungaugeable hurt registered on Tygra's face, but the Lord of the ThunderCats was too caught up in his rage. Tygra staggered back as if he'd been slapped. Yes, he knew only too well, how much the mystic meant to them. The pain of it cut deep within him. He felt sick and disoriented. But this path Lion-O chose would not due, for all of their sake. He schooled his face into an unreadable mask. Tygra looked the young leader straight in the eye.
"Have you forgotten everything you've learned?" his voice flat, emotionless, "And who is there to restore the Eye of Thundera this time, when you destroy it?" He paused, his gaze shifting to stare blankly over the charred clearing. To stand suddenly seemed a great effort for him. "Jaga forbade using the Sword for evil reasons. The mystic--she would never approve of bloodshed on her behalf.
"Mumm-Ra would only feed on it to survive. The decision is yours, Lord Lion-O. I can't--" he faltered. He turned slowly away and walked with deliberate sluggishness down into the depression.
Lion-O's anger rose again but Tygra's words effectively restored some rational control over him. What on Third Earth was he thinking? The import of what he might have done hit him like a blow to the solar plexis. Sudden shame overwhelmed him. Stupid boy! That's exactly what Mumm-Ra would have wanted him to do! He watched Tygra's retreating back. He wished he could recall his cruel words. He certainly never meant to hurt Tygra, who'd always put Lion-O's and the others' welfare before his own. Lion-O glanced back at the others.
They had stood silently watching the exchange between Tygra and him. Both looked chastened, a silent message passing between them that was not lost on Lion-O. The youth eyed the sword he clenched tightly in his hand. With its powers came responsibility, Tygra once said. Lion-O bit his lower lip and slipped the blade gently back into the claw-shield. With lowered eyes, he retreated back in the direction of the Tank.
Panthro felt his stomach knot as the anger-roused desire to fight died within him. He had wanted desperately to make amends, had felt as keenly as Lion-O and had seen it in Cheetara's face as well.
She toyed with her baton lamely now, eyes averted. He sought out Tygra and Lion-O respectively. Tygra sat hunched over his knees on a stump. Lion-O had acted harshly, it was true, and had thoughtlessly directed his frustration at Tygra. The latter had cleverly parried Lion-O's stab and had counter thrust with his own sharp words, verbally disarming his younger charge.
Lion-O sat moodily in the Tank, fully aware that he'd been humbled. Tygra had forced him to commit himself one way or the other. Impetuous he may be, Panthro thought, but Lion-O respected Tygra's wisdom. However, Panthro couldn't help feeling that a rift had developed between them. Blasted Mumm-Ra! He's trying to demoralize us and now he's making us fight among ourselves. He grumbled under his breath.
Cheetara touched his arm tentatively. He peeked over his shoulder at her. She understood what he felt, he was certain. She tried an unsure smile.
"I feel like I've just fought a pitched battle and lost, and I didn't even lift my baton," she commented.
"So do I. Clever tiger's words bit me, too," he replied. Cheetara focused her gaze in Tygra's direction. She could make out his silhouette against the crepuscular, evening sky.
"Tygra knows what he's talking about. I'm afraid we let our emotions get the better of us, same as Lion-O," she added, disheartened.
"Yeah, just the thing Jaga warned us about," Panthro stated. He tucked the nunchucks in his belt. He ran a hand across his smooth head fur. "No sense hanging around here now. We better go home and really think this through."
"Yes," Cheetara agreed, "I'll go get Tygra." She moved off as Panthro sauntered back to the ThunderTank. Lion-O turned slightly at Panthro's step, then studied the older noble's expression with shame. Seeing Lion-O's remorse, Panthro wrapped an arm across his shoulders.
"We understood what you felt, Lion-O, including Tygra. What Mumm-Ra did was in excusable, but you've shown me that despite your anger, you were able to restrain from doing the wrong thing."
"No, Panthro, I didn't make the right decision. Tygra made it for me, even after I ridiculed him. He didn't deserve that from me. He was right from the start." Lion-O shifted slightly in his seat, his fingers gingerly caressing the Sword's hilt. "I'm the one who needs my head examined." Despite the gravity of the situation, Panthro chuckled softly.
"Lion-O, you needn't be so hard on yourself. We all nearly acted irrationally. You merely voiced all of our feelings and desires. That you realized what the consequences would be, proves to me that you've matured properly.
"Thanks, Panthro. Too often I take for granted yours and the others' friendship. Yet you guys never fail me, even when I act like a foolish boy. Jaga couldn't have picked anyone else more loyal to stand by me. I say that from the bottom of my heart."
Panthro cuffed him gently on the chin and motioned him to scoot over, as he climbed aboard the Tank. He kept a watchful eye at the spot he knew Tygra and Cheetara were, then said, "Thing to do now is go back to the Lair and regroup. We're all exhausted." Lion-O nodded and followed his gaze.
Cheetara stepped lightly up to Tygra's side and squatted beside him. She tenderly squeezed his upper arm in a gesture of comfort.
"You okay, Tygra?" she asked tentatively. He turned a blank, careworn pair of eyes on her but remained silent. Cheetara wasn't sure how to respond to that candid look. She noticed that White's crystal necklace dangled loosely from his fingers. He must have found it in the rubble left by the explosion. Cheetara recalled that the mystic was wearing it the day she initially set out. The noble woman fumbled for words to say but couldn't find any. She took a few moments before she said in a modulated tone, "It's time to go, Tygra. The others are waiting. We can't do anymore here. We've left Wilykit, Wilykat and Snarf alone too long as it is. No telling what the Mutants might try to do while we're gone. Or worse, that black ghost lurking about."
Cheetara's words effectively roused Tygra's protective instincts. Too much had been lost already, and the thought of eminent danger to the kittens and the brave little snarf moved him to action. He nodded his head once and rose stiffly to his feet. Tygra cast one woeful glance at the clearing, then trailed behind Cheetara to the ThunderTank. They drove home to Cats' Lair, the gloominess in their hearts matching the murkiness of the new moon.
CHAPTER X
Two long days had passed since the mystic's death and had left the ThunderCats numbed by its suddenness, and the cruel method by which it was carried out. They went about their usual duties within the Lair cheerlessly. They ventured out only when necessity warranted it, for they held to their promise to try and rid Third Earth of this still unknown, elusive monster.
This time it disintegrated the fishing village of the Wolos. Panthro and Lion-O responded with supplies for the blighted inhabitants. The two nobles surveyed the damage with a vicarious eye. The destruction was so absolute that the Wolo's loss reminded them acutely of their own recent loss. After spending a day with their friends, the two set out to try and track the creature with a reinforced taste for vengeance.
Panthro drove the Tank, hands gripped tightly around the steering levers. Lion-O scanned the changing scenery, strict attention leaning towards any sign of the thing's direction of travel. They traveled another hour or so, pulling to a halt on a ridge to get their bearings.
"I don't like this, Panthro. Our friends are suffering such losses and we just seem to be floundering like fish out of water. If we only knew what its weakness was," Lion-O said.
"What we need to know is exactly what the devil it is, first of all. It looks solid enough, but then it vanishes like some ghost, kinda creepy, if you ask me. Makes my fur stand on end. I wonder if Mumm-Ra has something to do with it," Panthro commented, stooping to examine the ground. He picked up a pebble and tossed it away carelessly.
Lion-O scratched his head. After all that's happened, he didn't doubt that Mumm-Ra was capable of summoning such an entity to harass them. He'd already murdered one of them.
"You may be right, Panthro. The Mutants surely don't have the skills to constitute this. We just have to be extra care--" He never finished what he'd started to say. The Sword yowled an urgent warning as darkness suddenly eclipsed the sun. Both Cats whirled in unison, then simultaneously leaped backward and away from each other. The obsidian shadow descended on them with supernatural speed. It lashed out at them with what appeared to be a taloned hand. Its element of surprise was lost, thanks to the Sword's timely warning. Lion-O dragged the blade from its sheath.
He parried the creature's next attack, the claws inches from his face. It rasped like a maddened animal as Panthro's nunchuck pellet bombs exploded nearby. The maneuver was meant to distract but the specter recovered quickly and flung out a tentacle that had not been visible moments before. It took the panther by surprise and Panthro was struck a very solid blow to his chest, knocking the wind out of him. The blow sent him tumbling down an incline.
Lion-O charged again, hoping to draw the thing's attention away from Panthro. He swung the sword in a wide arc, but it passed through the inky body, like it was so much smoke. It retaliated with lightning speed, raking its huge talons downward, rendering deep lacerations in the young lord's broad chest. Lion-O screamed in agony and fell to his knees, still clutching the sword. The demon cackled again and raised its talons to strike a final stroke. with a supreme effort, Lion-O raised the blade and mustered the Eye's power, aiming it at his tormentor.
"Jaga, help me now!" he hissed through gritted teeth, The red jewel began to glow and the Eye opened completely. Fire blazed outward to engulf the ghoulish beast. The demon wailed in dismay as Lion-O directed the pure energy of the Eye at its very center. It sizzled and burned biliously, then, with a final shriek, dissolved into nothingness.
Lion-O knelt there, shaking with pain and breathing laboriously. He stared at the sun to be certain the thing was indeed destroyed, then collapsed, unconscious. Panthro pulled himself up over the edge of the rocks, his warrior's instincts immediately seeking out their enemy. He spotted Lion-O's inert form and stumbled to his side.
Horror clouded his features when he saw the young man's severe gashes and the pool of blood that formed beneath his body. Panthro dug into the Tank's storage compartment and pressed bandages against the wounds to stem the flow.
"No, Lion-O! Please, not you too!" he moaned desperately. He wrapped the already blood-soaked cloths tightly across Lion-O 's chest, then gently lifted him into the ThunderTank. He drove with breakneck speed back to the Lair radioing Cheetara to be ready for him. He shot glances sideways at the youth, hoping the lad could hold out long enough to be treated. His eyes burned with tears that came unbidden. Panthro dashed them away angrily.
"You haven't won yet, Mumm-Ra!" he muttered vehemently. "You'll not rob us of him, too, wizard. Not if I have any say in it!"
With that determined notion in mind, he crossed the drawbridge leading into their fortress. He screeched to a halt inside the shed. Panthro carried Lion-O into the infirmary as Cheetara turned on the bio-scan. With deliberate care, she ran the device along the lord's body. Her stomach leaped. The scan indicated serious internal injuries as well. Lion-O could bleed to death if not treated quickly. Her nursing skills were too limited and would not be enough. She turned to Panthro.
"He's bleeding badly, Panthro. We need Tygra's knowledge in this. He's somewhere about the Lair." She immediately began cutting away the bloody bandages.
Panthro eyed Lion-O briefly, then said, "I'll find him!" He all but fell over himself to get out the door. He found Tygra in his lab, hunched over his work table, measuring a phial of liquid. Disregarding his usual respect for Tygra's projects, Panthro burst into the room, out of breath. Tygra gave him slightly annoyed look, but the reprimand that had formed on his lips was never voiced. The look of agitation and anxiety on Panthro's face, instead, made Tygra's belly knot. He replaced the phial in its holder and asked quietly.
"What's wrong, Panthro?" Between gulps of air, Panthro related about the battle with the black specter, Lion-O's subsequent injuries and Cheetara's findings. Forgetting his own secret misery, Tygra pushed past him and together they hurried back to the infirmary.
Cheetara handed him the hard copy of the scan's readings. Tygra bit his lower lip. Lion-O's injuries were critical. How in all of Thundera were they going to heal him? This was beyond his own medical abilities. If he tried to operate, Lion-O could die. He had no idea how much blood Lion-O may have already lost. Instinctively he knew that only a mystic's mind healing could save him. Tygra's heart wrenched. They--he had depended so much on her skills and now she was no longer there. He felt nauseated, but kept his fears to himself.
As if reading his thoughts, Panthro spoke up. "We have to operate, don't we?" he asked, fidgeting nervously. Tygra looked at him and nodded gravely. Panthro caught the anxiety that touched his face, despite the latter's attempt to dampen it. Panthro felt his hopes deflate. "You don't think it will help, do you?" he said in a flat voice.
Tygra didn't answer and suddenly found it difficult to look him in the eyes. Cheetara, who had been prepared to assist, halted her activity and stared at both of them. Tygra was absolutely lost for a solution, which was totally out of character for him. Panthro watched him thoughtfully, then placed his hands on Tygra's shoulders and confronted him squarely.
"Then heal him the other way, Tygra. We know you did it with the mystic before," he stated firmly, but kindly. Tygra had been studying Lion-O's still form, but his head snapped back to gape in disbelief at his older friend. Panthro was not prepared for Tygra's reaction. Tygra shook his head slowly from side to side and stepped back, out of Panthro's reach.
"N--No, Panthro!" he pleaded in a tight, choked voice. "That's insane! It takes years to develop that type of skill and only if the potential is inborn. I have no such talent!" What he didn't say was that he couldn't open his mind anymore, would not be responsible for another death, did not want that pain again.
Panthro eyed him angrily. What was wrong with him? he fumed. It was odd for Tygra to give in to doubt so easily. Something was amiss here but there wasn't time to ponder over it. Panthro regretted what he had to say next, but he knew he had to take the gamble. Lion-O's life depended on it.
"Since when have you ever backed down from a challenge, Tygra? I've never known you to be a quitter. He would do it--has done it, for you. There's no other way!" Panthro's words were delivered in a barely controlled fashion and they cut into Tygra like a laser bolt. He turned stormy eyes on Panthro. There was a wounded look behind the anger that was not lost on Panthro. He'll have to deal with the consequences later. He waited, his expression in check. He had to give the tiger credit. Tygra held his fists clenched taut. For a moment he held them so, then slowly flexed them, the cool mien renewed.
Tygra knew Panthro was right and the truth of it stung him painfully. He felt the anger drain out of him, to be replaced by a constriction across his chest. He truly cared for Lion-O and would do anything for the youth. Panthro knew it too. Tygra hardly blamed him. Maybe he knows me too well, he thought.
Cheetara watched Tygra with growing concern. He didn't look well and she shot a questioning glance at Panthro. The big man held his stance. She switched her gaze to Tygra, but he had moved to Lion-O's bedside. The leader's face was drawn with pain, even though he was unconscious.
Tygra looked at Panthro once more and said in a lame voice, "It was only a flower." Panthro wouldn't budge. Ultimately, Tygra sighed, resigned.
Cheetara forgot that she had been holding her breath and let it out in relief. She asked if there was anything they could do to help.
Tygra responded, his expression neutral. "You can remain quiet. I'll have to concentrate." He paused, then added, "Promise me one thing, both of you?"
Panthro answered for the two of them. "Name it."
Tygra looked away, then murmured, "Don't ever ask me to do this again."
Panthro hesitated, mildly puzzled. Tygra leveled his gaze at him, a doleful look within the depths of those eyes. Panthro nodded. "Okay," he agreed and Cheetara nodded assent.
Like he'd seen the mystic do, Tygra closed his eyes and inhaled slow, deep breaths to calm his body and mind. Now that he'd committed himself, he knew there was no turning back and focused on the task before him. Laying his fingers on Lion-O's temples, he slipped into the half-trance of mind-link. He delved into Lion-O's being gently with his mind and found it came no easier now than when he shared it with White. Tygra sensed part of the pain the youth suffered and flinched. He probed Lion-O's inner consciousness trying to ignore his own tensing muscles. His insides throbbed with the pain's intensity and his mind reeled, nearly losing the fragile contact. Somehow he brought it back into focus and found that he could actually see the damage. He spoke to Lion-O, knowing the other wouldn't hear him. "Do you see it, Lion-O?" his mind-voice whispered softly, "Together we'll have to mend that. I can't do it alone."
Tygra concentrated on knitting torn flesh and sinew back together, ruptured vessels into sturdy channels. Lion-O moaned, writhing under Tygra's gentle but firm touch. Outwardly, Panthro and Cheetara watched carefully, monitoring the bio-scan attentively.
The faint blue aura surrounding Tygra's hands reminded Cheetara of the mystic's intense healing light, dancing like fairies along the gaping wounds. Within his inner being, Tygra began to experience the strain. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. This was no flower! he thought. Too much! Lion-O struggled valiantly.
Better now. The young man's heart beat stronger. Can't stop now! The lacerations sealed closed. Just a little more! Tygra thought, but his own strength failed him and he wavered, his temples throbbing mercilessly, losing the mind-touch. He became vaguely aware of his whereabouts, praying that what he had given would be enough.
Cheetara studied the readings, fully engrossed, noting Lion-O's firmer pulse and steadier heartbeat. She nodded encouragingly and Panthro whooped with joy. No more bleeding showed on the scans.
"You did it, Tygra! You've given him a chance. He's going to be okay!" Panthro turned to congratulate his friend, but Tygra was not beside Lion-O's bed. He never heard the older ThunderCat's praise, for he had passed out and quietly slid to the floor in a heap. Panthro leaned over Tygra's inert form. He pressed the flat of his hand on Tygra's chest to assure himself the other had come to no harm for his efforts. Cheetara inquired softly,
"Is he alright, Panthro?" Panthro nodded, lifting Tygra in his arms and carrying him to his room. He laid him on the bed and drew the coverlet. Panthro studied Tygra's face. There was an almost childlike vulnerability to his handsome features, which touched Panthro's protective instincts. He stroked Tygra's sweat-dampened brow affectionately with the back of his hand.
"I hope you can forgive me, Tygra, but you were the only one who could have pulled that off. You should have more faith in your own abilities. Sleep peacefully, my friend." With that, he dimmed the lights and tip-toed silently out the door.
CHAPTER XI
Lion-O sat up in bed with pillows propped behind him. He waited silently as Tygra finished his examination.
When he'd completed it, Lion-O asked in an eager tone, "Will I be able to get up and walk around now? This laying around in bed is nerve wracking. I should be helping you guys with the work."
"Not yet, Lion-O. I'm glad to see that you're feeling better, but internal injuries take longer to heal. If it's necessary to get out of bed, then I suggest you ask one of us to assist you. There'll be plenty of time later for work."
Lion-O sighed dejectedly. He knew Tygra was right. The latter had slept for two days following the healing, but now looked as though he hadn't rested at all since that time. Tygra had dutifully monitored Lion-O's recovery and never once alluded to his part in it. It was Cheetara who had actually informed Lion-O of what had taken place, that seven-day ago. It occurred to Lion-O that he, himself, had not thanked Tygra. He guessed that now was as good a time as any to rectify that lack of courtesy.
"Tygra?" he said in an easy tone. "I wanted to tell you that I appreciate what you did." Tygra had been putting away some instruments, but paused without looking up. Lion-O's statement caught him off his guard.
"I don't understand what--oh," he faltered, eyeing Lion-O, then he purposely directed his gaze at Panthro, who stood at the foot of the bed. "As Panthro said, 'It was the only thing left to do'." It was said casually, but Lion-O detected an underlying tone in Tygra's voice. The young lord glanced at Panthro. The big man shifted uncomfortably, implying that the two were not in complete agreement over the use of that method, and the issue had not been resolved.
Sensing the tension in the room, Cheetara quickly changed the subject. "I think we should let Lion-O get some rest . Tygra's right, young lord. I'll wake you later come dinnertime. Snarf said he has something special he's cooking up for you." She rearranged his blankets, then shooed the other two out ahead of her.
In the corridor, Tygra turned and strode off. He kept more to himself lately and seemed to eat little or not at all. Cheetara took a few steps after him but Panthro halted her with a touch to the arm.
"Let him be, for now, Cheetara. Whatever's bothering him will come out eventually. I wonder if I've asked too much of him already," he mused sadly. "No sense worrying Lion-O about it either."
Cheetara faced him. "I don't remember you two ever being at odds with each other before. What's the problem?" she asked.
"It's this healing business. Thinking back, I guess I sort of shamed him into it. But he's gifted enough and doesn't always see that talent for what it's worth. It looked so easy when he and the mystic experimented on those plants." Panthro shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Plants are one thing, Panthro. People are another. Physical structure is more complicated. I was there when we asked White to help Tygra. She said the same thing, that she was inexperienced and she'd had several long years of training with Servalla. It was exhausting for her as well. I agree that Lion-O's chances improved tremendously and that it was the only alternative, but I think it frightened him somehow."
"You noticed that too? Almost as if he'd lost confidence in himself." He paused reflectively. "He's always been quiet about his personal feelings. There's something else here in question, but it eludes me."
"Yes. Maybe we should just not press him. Give him time to work it out. In the meantime, we have lots of work to catch up on."
Panthro nodded and they went on their way.
***** Tygra returned to the infirmary and deposited his instruments on the table. He leaned heavily on the back of a chair in an effort to steady his trembling body. Did they have to prod his mind with that memory? Panthro's words taunted him: 'Maybe you ought to be a mystic too'. A wave of sorrow passed through him. Tygra examined his hands, slowly rotating them. Did she think so too? She had trusted him, without doubt, to assist in the healings. Anguish stabbed at him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, balling his fists. The grief nearly overwhelmed him, but he fought it back, taking a long, shaky breath.
The ache in his heart and body refused to abate. Tygra shook his head testily. Must not think about it. He thrust himself away from the table and busied himself with insignificant things. There really wasn't much to do in the infirmary. Cheetara had tidied up and restocked the shelves. Tygra glanced around helplessly, gave up and left the room.
He wandered the Lair aimlessly, avoiding his friends, ashamed they would see how foolish he was. For a little while he could forget, while some chore occupied his time. However, some handiwork or design of hers would always stand out to remind him, driving the ache home once again. It did not surprise him, then, to find himself lingering by her room. He hesitated before opening the door, feeling that he was intruding on what was her privacy. He gathered his courage and stepped inside.
Tygra moved at a snail's pace through the room, stopping occasionally to pick up an item, then gently replacing it. He ran his fingers lightly over those things he could not lift. His eyes fell on the harp resting in the corner. Her favorite past time. Tygra's throat tightened. He relished her playing, especially those shared moments when they blended harp and flute as one. He could almost hear the enchanting lure of the instrument 's tones as her fingers danced across the strings . Now they would be hushed forever. He reached out hesitantly and picked a couple of chords. The soft notes vibrated through his fingertips and gripped at his heart. He withdrew his hand, but not before caressing the worn, smooth frame.
With an effort he turned away and moved over to her bureau. The usual grooming items lay neatly arranged. A couple of bottles of scented perfumes here, a few pieces of jewelry there. He scarcely glanced at them. One article did hold his attention. It was draped across a small velvet box, where he'd left it the night she died. The delicate necklace, with its sapphire medallion, beckoned to him. She said it was Servalla's gift to her son, who she would never see again. Servalla had given it to her for safekeeping and now they were both gone. If only he could have told them that their search was not in vain.
He cupped the jewel in his palm, staring at its radiant surface. In the dusky light, the facets seemed to swirl with an inner glow. Tygra felt as if he were being pulled into the very heart of its depth. He tried to resist, but it held him fast. The swirling motion slowed somewhat, forming itself into the recognizable personage of Servalla the Mystic. She was older than Tygra remembered her, but her features retained the sculpted beauty nonetheless. Her blue eyes commanded his amber ones with affection and kindness. Tygra stared at her, his tongue frozen. She was speaking to him, even as he struggled to sort out the thousand questions buzzing in his heed.
"My dear Tygra! Hear me, my son, while we have this short time. By now you must have guessed who I am. And you, no doubt, wonder why we didn't reveal this to you before, your father and I.
"Long ago, when Thundera was safer to live on, we found love between us. But it was not just a simple love that drew us together. To mate formally was neither wise nor customary in our respective stations in life. I had a vision once that spoke of a child who would be very special in his time. My child, Tygra. I shared this knowledge with your father and he agreed to the joining. Our love was meant to be and it was confirmed by the councils of the mystics and nobles alike. Because your father was not next in line to head the red clan, they allowed the exception, though not without some reluctance. It was Lord Jaga's insight and wisdom that
swayed them to our cause."
Jaga? Jaga knew of this? Tygra thought, incredulous. His mind spun dizzily. He felt betrayed. Servalla paused reflectively, as if allowing him the time to absorb this information, Tygra forced himself to look at her again and waited for her to continue. Questions blurred his concentration.
"Go on," Tygra whispered with his mind-voice. She nodded as though she could hear him and could read his thoughts.
"Do not be angry with Jaga. He acted only upon our wishes.
"We planned to tell you when you were old enough to understand. But I was constantly away and a child needs his parents close to him. So I pretended to be just a friend to your father. It was easier that way for all involved. But I loved you both no less. No one would question your father when he declared you his heir. When I was taken away on a mercy mission to plague-ridden Bor-An, I thought I was never going to return. Somehow I survived and when I returned to Thundera, I did not remember things. Once restored, I continued my profession. Soon after, we received word of Thundera's imminent danger. We were to meet the outgoing ships at a rendezvous point, but none came and Thundera was gone. We followed the trail of those ships we hoped had survived." She paused a moment to collect her thoughts. Tygra said nothing.
"I believed that your father and you had perished when Thundera was annihilated. I had begun to fashion this gem just before we returned to Thundera, in case I wasn't able to give it to you. When we parted, your father promised to see to your safety, and Lord Jaga to your care, if your father died. I gave the jewel to White for safekeeping in hopes of finding you."
"Father didn't die on Thundera!" Tygra said in a choked voice. "He went to that planet with the other warriors to fight the Mutants. We heard of the deaths there. He never returned. His ship was destroyed! Oh, Mother! If only he'd known!"
Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked. Tygra cradled the pendant in his hands protectively. He stifled the sobs that ached to burst from his throat. Servalla was speaking again and he wanted to treasure every word, for he knew they would be the last he'd ever hear from her.
"White promised to protect it, for no other but you, my son, could retrieve its message. It is a simple devise, attuned only to your mental espers. It would know only your touch. But time runs short, my pet. It is not safe even now. The Mutants, as yet, do not relent, Thundera or no Thundera. I regret to leave you once again, probably for the last time. Know, this though. You've always made me proud of you and whatever you choose to do, you will succeed. You'll serve your young charge with the loyalty and strength that's hallmarked the tiger clans of both houses. Farewell, Paladin of Thundera, and many lives to you and yours!"
Tygra stared a long time at the sudden emptiness that obscured the crystal. When he came back to himself, Servalla's words echoed once within his mind. Paladin of Thundera? So she knew, then, what path fate had chosen for him. Thundera! Lion-O was Thundera--for all of them. Wise Jaga knew who else would tread that road with him. He was not alone, never alone, so long as they were together.
He pressed his fist to his mouth, the lonely years of suppressed grief and uncertainty, too much to hold back. Deep sobs broke from him, purging his very soul of all the losses he so keenly felt. And it was in this very personal show of emotion that Cheetara found him, when she came searching him out.
***** The late afternoon sun had long since dipped below the high cliff that sheltered the sphinx-like Cats' Lair from the rear. Panthro sat at the table in the dining hall, absently toying with his food. Cheetara sat opposite him, daintily eating small bites, but not really tasting them. The kittens ate in respectable silence as Snarf served around the main course. Occasionally, Cheetara would steal a glance at the door. Panthro surreptitiously shifted his eyes that way also, but it remained closed except for Snarf's comings and goings. Finally Cheetara could stand it no longer and set her fork down with a deliberate air.
"Panthro, he's not coming to dinner again tonight. He's ignored breakfast and lunch as well. The same as he's done for the last several days. I think it's gone on too long. It's evident that he's forgotten what sleep is. He's like a walking zombie. Yet he's dutifully kept up with his responsibilities towards the Lair, and he personally checks on Lion-O regularly. However, he hasn't taken the time to do so simple a chore as looking after his own well being. Even Lion-O isn't blind to that now and constantly asks me if he's alright. I can't give him an answer because I don't have one. Whatever it is that's troubling him has quite a hold on him. It must be awfully important! Why, he even looks thinner!" she blurted, frustration coloring her observations.
Panthro looked up. He steepled his fingers in front of him and sighed, peering at the door. He knew how concerned Cheetara felt and silently shared it. Tygra's melancholy of late was uncharacteristic for the tiger and hinted at something more serious than just weariness Tygra claimed was due to many hours in his lab. The confrontation Panthro anticipated would come following the healing would have been more welcome than this reticence Tygra now displayed. Maybe Cheetara was correct. Perhaps a talk with Tygra might clear the matter up. The panther was still convinced that Tygra would eventually speak what was on his mind. He said as much, as carefully as he could, so as not to ignite Cheetara's usually patient temper. He didn't succeed.
"He's tired a lot, that's true," he stated softly. "Maybe he was injured in that blast and just doesn't want to worry us that he's hurting."
Cheetara's voice flared, startling the kittens, Snarf and Panthro. "That's ridiculous, Panthro, and selfish. Tygra would be the first to jump on any of us if we hid an injury or hurt from him. He's hurting all right, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it now. Don't you care? You're the closest friend he's ever had!"
Panthro dropped his hands on the table. His dark amber eyes steadily held hers. "I do care, Cheetara, but I also know Tygra."
Cheetara put her hands on her hips, the anger melting away.
"I'm sorry, Panthro. Listen to me. That was unfair of me. I think that in this case, the situation is different. The look of anguish in his eyes is too reminiscent of the pain I saw when Mumm-Ra tricked him into believing we were dead. I wonder if--" She paused, frowning. Something clicked in the back of her mind, but the clearer vision eluded her. She had been pacing the floor while she spoke, but stopped by the doorway. It hissed open, sensing her presence. She faced Panthro once more.
"Just let me give it a chance, okay? I have an idea about something."
Panthro nodded. "It can't hurt to try," he said with curiosity.
Cheetara turned and slipped out, heading for Tygra's room. As she moved along, Cheetara recalled the time when Mumm-Ra's warp gas induced illusions threatened to rob Tygra of his sanity. Even after the mystic healed him, White informed them that those nightmares of the ThunderCats' deaths had seemed all too real to Tygra. She remembered Tygra's traumatic reaction and had glimpsed a more sensitive side to his nature. Was it the memories of those visions, the reason for his despondency now? If so, what might have triggered that recollection? She raised her hand to her chin, then shook her head. I'm just grasping at straws, she thought. What she didn't know was how close to the truth her theory had come.
She strode along the corridor past the room that had been White's. The door was open but no light, except that of the moon, was present.
She would have proceeded onward, except for the muffled sounds coming from near the window. Cheetara stopped in her tracks. She stepped into the doorway quietly. She could make out Tygra's silhouette against the moonlight, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Then she heard the sounds more distinctly. To her amazement, Cheetara realized that he was crying. Puzzled, she moved up behind him and touched him light1y on the shoulder.
"Tygra?" she asked softly, "What is it?"
So lost in his sorrow, Tygra's usual honed senses did not detect her entry. He started violently, ashamed to have been caught this way, angry at her intrusion. He pulled away from her, tightening his grip on the window sill.
"What--do--you--want?" he hissed in a choked, half-sob. Cheetara stepped backward, surprised by the force of his words. She tried to gauge his temperament before she answered. She could not remember a time when she had seen him so volatile. Her own temper flared, but she schooled her voice to remain level. She got an impression that what Tygra needed was not an argument, but a sensitive ear.
"I was looking for you. We're concerned about you," she replied, hesitantly.
Tygra's head snapped around to face her. The moonlight glistened on his moist eyes. Bitterness mingled with misery stared back at her. Tygra started to reply, checked himself, then swallowed hard instead. Cheetara's expression was one of compassion. She whispered softly, "It's all right, Tygra, let it come. Don't fight it." She reached out and held his arm again. This time he didn't try to resist her.
His face crumbled as she wrapped her arms around him comfortingly. She held him close, rocking him soothingly, until she felt the shaking of his shoulders lessen. When he eased away from her, Cheetara released him.
"Better?" she asked kindly, wiping away some of his tears. He stared vaguely at his hands, his body limp. He did not care now about his pride nor did he feel any better, but he nodded just the same. Secretly, Tygra was grateful for Cheetara's consideration and felt guilty for venting his frustrations on her. Cheetara watched him patiently, one hand still resting on his arm. Tygra swallowed again, then shifted his gaze out the window, sighing raggedly.
"No illusions--this time--Cheetara." It was not a question, merely a statement. It was said in a hoarse whisper and Cheetara was momentarily lost on its meaning. Her silence drew his attention back to her, then to the medallion clutched between his fingers. He eyed her again, a bittersweet smile touching his mouth. Tygra's eyes were hooded from fatigue, but Cheetara read the desperate longing that poured from them. Her mouth dropped open, the significance of that look, hitting her with a rude awareness. He saw that she understood and tried a smile again.
"I thought--it was only the physical--need. I realized--that I loved her--too late!" His smile fell, the pain of his admittance nearly overwhelming him. He shut his eyes, struggling to retain his frail dignity. Cheetara waited silently. Tygra took a couple of deep breaths, then continued in a low-pitched voice.
"She--she needed me--and I let her down." Cheetara covered his hands with hers.
"No, Tygra. That's not true. You went after her when we assumed that everything was in order. You couldn't have known what Mumm-Ra would do."
Tygra shook his head. "You don't understand. She called to me with her mind. I--I tried to bring her back. I felt her pain. I felt her--die!" he stated remorsefully. Tygra buried his face in his hands. Cheetara felt numb. She didn't know how to comfort him.
She recalled that solemn day vividly. So it wasn't the blast that almost killed him. It was her tortured loss and now he was dying a slow death without her. Cheetara felt her own tears slide down her cheeks. Tygra asked so little for himself and this tragedy was a cruel injustice to him. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry, but the words would not come. Tygra sensed her sadness and valiantly recovered his composure somewhat, taking her shoulders in his grasp.
"I'm sorry, Cheetara. I didn't wish to upset everyone else over my--foolish expectations . Besides, some good has come cut of this," he said softly, trying to make light of it all. He didn't fool Cheetara, though. She stared at him, a hint of anger mirrored in her eyes.
"White was more than just a whim to you, Tygra, to have caused you so much grief. And I don't see how anything Mumm-Ra has done would benefit anyone except Mumm-Ra," she shot beck, swiping at her tears. "You're not the only one who misses her! "
Tygra bowed his head, his throat constricting again. Cheetara's barb hit home. She cradled his chin and lifted it to meet her gaze.
"You said there was good that came from this. Please tell me," she said encouragingly. Tygra nodded and placed the medallion in her upturned palm. He sighed.
"It was Servalla's. She gave it to White to give to her son--should she ever find him. I knew Servalla on Thundera when I was a child. I didn't know she had a mate or a son. When we were trapped on that mountain, White told me about it, and how Servalla had survived Bor-An. Out of curiosity, I asked who her mate was. She told me it--it was Siberan--my father," he faltered, the last part coming out in barely a whisper.
"Your father?" Cheetara gaped in astonishment. She studied the gem more closely, absorbed by the glittering facets. No wonder he prized it so much. She glanced at him when he continued.
"It's a message-orb, really. All my life I wondered who my mother was, never realizing that she was there and alive. She answered many questions I've had inside over the years. It just confirmed what I'd recently discovered. White died thinking that Servalla's desire to give this to her son was unfulfilled. She--never knew either." Tygra ran his hand through his mane, resigned. He stared blankly out the window again, eyes brimming with more tears.
The ThunderCat noblewoman bit her lip. She recalled, suddenly, White's referral to an intimate relationship between Servalla and Tygra, the day she and Lion-O helped bury the older mystic. White had felt the woman's death would have been too taxing on Tygra's emotional state. She may not have known the true relationship, but her instincts were correct. Cheetara eyed Tygra's profile. So close yet not knowing! How much more hurt did he have to endure? She moved to his side and placed the jewel in his hands. She folded his fingers around it gently, her eyes misting again.
"I am sorry, Tygra," she uttered quietly, then moved past him to the corner of the room. Tygra's somber eyes remained fixed on his hands. Cheetara touched his arm and Tygra faced her. She held out the mystic's harp silently to him. Tygra stared, uncomprehending.
"She said one could always find comfort in music. Will you please play?" she pleaded softly.
Mixed emotions clouded his features. Tygra accepted the harp as if it was fragile glass. Cheetara took a seat on the edge of White's bed. Tygra cradled the instrument to his chest, moving with measured steps to a stool nearby. He sat and readied himself. Emboldened by Cheetara's smile, he began to strum the delicate melody White and he had found together, so long ago. Outside, a night bird answered in a clear, sweet note.
***** On the plain, the white pyramid stood untouched by time. The pale light of the moon reflected off of it, giving it the appearance of a welcome beacon in the night.
Within the vast chamber, the carefully wrapped figure of Mumm-Rana, the Good, lay sleeping upon her resting stone. Moonlight poked its way into the tiny window at the pyramid's peak and shone downward, illuminating her face. She opened her eyes and sat up with slow, tentative movements. So weak, she thought. The sorceress swung her legs over the side end stood, swaying. It was long moments before she felt that her legs could sustain her. She walked with diligent steps to another stone, similar to her own. She looked with a tender and concerned eye upon the figure lying there. Mumm-Rana lifted a weary hand to stroke the soft, striped hair that haloed the serene, delicate face.
We have survived, little sister, but not without great cost. I know not how the ThunderCats have fared and my visionary powers have all but left me. What strength I managed to summon to pull us away, is gone as well." She paused to study the sleeping mystic. White lay unmoving, save for the slight rise and fall of her bosom. Her sapphire eyes were concealed beneath closed lids. Mumm-Rana pitied the young woman for she, too, shared the agony of evil Mumm-Ra's attack. In her all-knowing way, she knew another had been a victim to the pain, for she had reached out with her own telepathic senses to the mystic. She had touched two minds and experienced, doubly, the dire agony they had shared. Mumm-Rana shook her head sadly.
"Mumm-Ra's power is strong, indeed, but the powers of love and virtue are stronger. They will prevail over evil and we will persevere to protect Third Earth. But that will take time and patience, my friend. We must heal ourselves first, however. So sleep now, Sister in Life, until then."
The sorceress turned and retraced her steps to her own place again. She laboriously settled herself, looked once more upon her young charge, then closed her eyes in slumber.
Finis