Initiation

Tygra nocked the long arrow. He aimed at a cloth bundle set at the end of the courtyard, and carefully considered his shot. Willa said that one can be fooled by one's eyes. The skilled warrior should be able to shoot a bow without the benefit of sight, and still strike his target. Well then, let's give it a try.

The tall architect closed his eyes. The light breeze played with the white tufts of fur shielding his pointed ears. So, the wind blows from the west. He adjusted his grip. A slight vibration in the bow string marked the tension in his body. Easy, Tygra, he chided.

"My lord, there you are!" a sweet voice trilled.

"Now!" The arrow sped past the target, and sailed into the river canyon beyond. The tiger spun around, and glared at the petite tigress, who, realizing her error in judgement, bowed.

"Forgive me, elder," she said contritely, "it was not my intention to disrupt your practice."

Tygra regarded the penitent healer. Her white fur shimmered under the morning sun. Her brown stripes grew almost black. The sky blue robe that sculpted her body only enhanced her natural beauty. The sincerity of her reply quickly freed any anger that he had held against her. He leaned on the longbow and mumbled, "It was not important, white one."

The young mystic straightened. "Anything that you take on with such determination is, elder. I know how you respect the warrior women. Their gift to you of the bow was a singular honor. I can imagine how you must want to perfect your skill in gratitude."

She has been on this world only 30 risings of the sun, and already I cannot imagine life without her. Such wisdom in one so young...I'll never get used to it. Unsure of what to say to her, Tygra nervously pawed the stone with his foot.

"May I try, elder?"

"You? What possible use could a mystic have for a weapon such as this?"

"Yes, elder, me," she said as she gently removed the bow from his hand. "In our great hall, we often practiced with the bow as a form of meditation."

"But I don't see--"

"It doesn't matter whether you strike the target, elder. What does matter is that you try your best." Talitha set an arrow. She shut her eyes, and remained perfectly still.

After a minute had passed, the Thundercat wondered if she would ever fire. As he was about to comment, the mystic loosed the missile. It hit the target with deadly precision.

"What a shot!" Tygra howled. The tigress nonchalantly returned the bow to him. "By Jaga, Talitha, you're as good an archer as my father ever was."

The mystic waved her hands to dismiss the compliment. "But it is true! I could never make such a shot."

"And as long as you believe that you cannot, you won't, architect," she scolded.

Surprised by her directness, Tygra blurted, "Then, mystic, can I at least say that you certainly meditate well?"

"I humbly accept your assessment, Tygra," she said while trying unsuccessfully not to giggle. Her melodious laughter stirred the tiger in a way that only Cheetara and one other had accomplished. Uncomfortable with the possible implications of his emotion, he swiftly changed the topic. He said brusquely, "Now tell me, youngling, what did you wish to discuss?"

"I wondered if you would accompany me to the village of the warrior women. I understand that they also have a healer. I would like to discuss natural cures with her. I had planned to walk alone, but the Mutants continue to plague us on this new world, and this dreadful Mumm-Ra creature, whom you have described, appears to be even a greater menace. So, I thought that a fine, strong warrior, like you, would make a perfect escort and companion for this journey."

The heat rose to Tygra's face. Embarrassed, he barked, "There are other fine warriors in this lair, youngling--Panthro for one--and don't underestimate Cheetara. What she lacks in strength, she more than surpasses in speed and agility--and Lion-o--"

"Elder, I want to walk with you."

She had said it so plainly. But truly, what did he have to fear? She only wanted to take a walk, and had chosen him over Panthro, who was older, and Lion-o, who was younger. Now, what was the problem with that?

The tiger looked across the courtyard to the eastern wood beyond. He certainly did not wish to hurt the mystic's feelings. He suddenly realized that she would go to the village with or without him. She is that stubborn, he thought. I cannot let any harm come to her, I would-- He broke the distressing notion with a shake of his mane.

"Get your staff, white one, and we will go," he declared abruptly. "We will cross the River at Barge Point with Wolo assistance." He gazed at the smiling tigress. The blue of her eyes quelled even the rising heat of a late spring morning.

"Wonderful!" she shouted happily. She turned toward the Lair. "I'll return in but a moment, Tygra. It will be good to travel while it is cool."

Tygra followed the hidden curves of her graceful figure as she ran. Too quickly for his pleasure, she vanished behind the fortress walls.

*****

The tiger listened indifferently to the white tigress who walked beside him. Talitha had chatted cheerfully since their walk had begun. When she had mentioned his mother's fraternal twin, Te'sara, she had held his complete attention. His feisty aunt had played a significant role in the lives of Siberan and Servalla as he had discovered from careful study of his mother's journals; however, Talitha had described the priestess-mystic, whom he had never known, in a way that had brought her to life.

Besides Te'sara, Talitha had recounted many tales of the mystics and priests who had dwelt in the Halls of Healing. Only one other had he noted with equal interest: Tir'shan. Talitha had recalled him with special fondness. The priest-mystic, whom she had suggested had almost been born on the same day as he, had apparently been her closest friend in addition to Servalla. The tigress had spoken quite reverently of his extraordinary powers, and his dedication to Mrísena.

She obviously worshiped Tir'shan. Ironically, Tygra knew that he had once met this legendary figure. It had been impossible to forget a white tiger who had reached the staggering height of 7 ½ feet. It had been rumored in the palace, however impossible it had seemed, that his great size came from northern blood, for he had been taken as a cub from a tribe of red tigers who had made the mountains their home.

Tir'shan's origins had never concerned him. The priest had saved his life after a terrible battle. Although the architect had never learned his savior's name, it now seemed to him that only Tir'shan could have matched the description that Talitha had given. Perhaps I will tell her of our meeting, Tygra thought solemnly, but only when the memory of that day of horror has finally fled.

"Tygra?" Her airy voice dispelled his brooding.

"Yes...you were saying something about Tir'shan and his function in the circle of priests--"

"Elder! That was at least an hour ago. You haven't been listening."

"I have, white one...I just became distracted...the heat...it is making me quite sleepy. After all, I did have the late watch." The sparkle in her eyes indicated that she did not accept his answer; however, she was polite enough to let it suffice.

"Elder, I was going to suggest that we stop at the River for a rest before we follow it north to Barge Point. We can refresh ourselves with a swim in the waters.

No! his mind screamed. Jaga help me! How do I tell her of my fear without losing her respect.

"Tygra, is something wrong? Here, perhaps you should sit for a moment. The way that your pupils just dilated, I thought that you might faint."

Before the architect could protest, she had led him to a squat stone at the base of a tree. Now I feel the complete fool! Tygra thought, fuming in silence.

"Listen, elder. Hear the River? I shall use a cup from my healer's pouch to get you some water. Just sit. If you feel faint--"

"I feel fine!" Tygra growled as he stood. The startled mystic stepped back.

"El-elder, I-I meant no disrespect, I--"

Tygra approached her, and gently gathered her hands into his own. "Talitha," he murmured. The music of her name almost caught in his throat. "We will go to the River, but I will not swim...you see...I am afraid."

"Elder, why?" she asked with disbelief. "You told me that you were an excellent swimmer."

"Long ago, yes, that was true, but--"

"Not after your cousin's death." Her keen mind had easily unveiled the truth.

The tiger stared at his large, dusty feet. "Yes."

The tips of her claws touched his cheek. "I am so very sorry. How terrible it must be for you to carry this burden. I will, of course, respect your decision."

He saw compassion in her face, not judgement. Once again, the feeling that he had denied at the Lair struggled to be heard. He cleared his throat, and managed to speak. "A cool drink would be refreshing."

Talitha nodded, and let the matter of his fear rest. "Care to race, or are you too old?" she quipped.

"Old, indeed! Why I have never heard such talk--" She had not waited for his response. She had already vanished among the trees in her sprint toward the River.

*****

The warm breeze stroked Tygra's face. He slowly drifted back to consciousness from his brief nap. He kept his eyes closed and let the relaxing sensation linger. He listened to the subtle changes in the River as Talitha moved in its waters. At this location, the current moved languidly. Swimming for anyone who cared to indulge, was quite safe.

The melody of an ancient love ballad blended with the River. The mystic's soaring soprano enriched his state of contentment. He stretched lazily on the grass-softened earth.

A vision of the tigress flowered in his mind. Her wet mane clung to her shoulders. The waters had smoothed her fur to a sleek envelope that enhanced the curves of breast and hip.

His awakening dream shifted. He found himself opposite the nubile mystic. The waters teased his naked and aroused form. He pulled her toward him.

"Jaga be blessed!" Bolting upright, the architect banished the dream. He begged, "Please don't let her come to me now!" He set his hands to his temples. He recited the names of the elements in hushed tones to ease the erection that strained his skintight Thundercat uniform.

"Tyyy'graaaa!"

The tiger quickly raised his hand to acknowledge her call, but did not turn in her direction. Somewhere on a low branch, she has hung her robe. I am not going to look at her, he decided, until she presents herself, dressed, in front of me!

The disruption in the River's flow signaled her move toward the shore. The rustling branches suggested that she had retrieved her clothing. To finally subdue his desire, the Thundercat distracted himself with the repositioning of his bolo-whip. He had removed the weapon to rest more comfortably, and had set it on a neat pile that also contained Talitha's staff and pouch. As he placed the special whip against his hip, it vanished. He knew that the weapon, although magically rendered invisible, rested securely on his body. Its special property allowed him the full use of his hands and unencumbered movement. Until he needed it, he was hardly aware that he carried the bolo-whip.

Tubercular laughter suddenly shook the forest, and mingled incongruously with the mystic's terrified scream. The Thundercat sprang to his feet. He turned in time to see Talitha retreat from the towering undead priest known as Mumm-Ra. Before the architect could shout a warning, the tigress stumbled over a scattering of stones. The only sound that she made as her head struck the rocks was a disbelieving gasp.

Tygra swiftly summoned an illusion of the one entity that the evil priest feared. The jackal-headed human loomed larger than the gigantic priest. The strange being addressed the mummified sorcerer in his own archaic language. "This time I have come for you, Seti! You have caused enough evil!"

The wail of the damned blasted the leaves. The blue-skinned monstrosity that was Mumm-Ra disappeared in a single burst of light.

With the priest vanquished, the illusion of the jackal god ended. Tygra raced from the cover of the trees to the side of the fallen tigress. A brief surge of Thundercat power touched him, and promised the arrival of help.

Tygra dropped to his knees alongside Talitha. "Goddess, please don't let her be dead!" To his relief, the architect noted that she still breathed. "Mrísena be blessed!" He tore a large strip of fabric from his uniform. He carefully lifted the mystic, and propped her against his chest. He set the cloth over the jagged wound that cut her skull.

Her blood soaked the bandage and stained his hands. "Goddess, it isn't stopping!" Panic settled on him as the mystic hemorrhaged. He began to rock the tigress gently. "Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die...." The rhythm of his movement and his keening altered his breathing. His reality transformed into a vast field of blue. The color pulsed to a music that Tygra did not hear, but felt. He submitted to the harmony that surrounded him. The vibrations crested to an agonizing peak that hurtled him into nothingness.

*****

Two disparate voices battled in the darkness that shrouded him. Tygra tried to separate the stream of words into a language that he understood. Each attempt only increased the burning in his head.

"If you move him, you might kill him!"

"How in the seven hells long are we supposed to sit here like Mutant bait?" All I have to do is to lift him into the tank, and we can make for the safety of the Lair."

Whoever they are, they shouldn't be fighting, Tygra decided. He endeavored to speak, but his voice produced only a discordant hiss.

Quiet settled on the void until the invisible soprano made a request. "Tygra, can you open your eyes?" Something warm pressed against his neck. "Has his heart rate slowed?"

"Getting better, but still too blasted fast. Think you got through to him?"

Tygra snarled with effort, "Yes!"

"Goddess be praised, there is hope!"

Suddenly, Tygra remembered the injury to the mystic. "Talitha is hurt!" He pushed at the blackness that smothered him. He moved up, but a stronger force pushed him down to the earth. Damn this enemy! Must see him to fight him. Tygra opened his eyes to the scalding light of day. A large hand covered his mouth to muffle his cry of anguish.

"That is not necessary!"

"It is if you don't want to attract Mutants, Talitha."

The mystic? But she had been so near death. The grey shape above the architect melted into a figure. His mind finally ordered his confusion. "Panthro!" Tygra gasped, despite the furry hand that still shielded his face.

"Well, mystic, I think that this tiger has just returned to us. Better see to him." The panther moved to one side. The white tigress appeared in his place.

Blood soiled her ivory mane. The architect started to rise. Must help her! Stabbing pain welled in his chest and forced him back.

"Tygra, listen to me! I am not injured." He pointed to her mane. The torment in his chest had forced silence upon him. "You have healed me, Tygra," she answered. "A stain of blood is all that remains of my wound."

"Impossible," he whispered.

"If it were architect, I would indeed be dead."

"Can I move him now, mystic? He has moved himself around quite a bit." The scowling panther loomed above his feet.

"In a moment, Panthro. He is still too vulnerable."

"Jaga be blessed, female!"

"Don't argue with her, Panthro," Tygra growled. His friend started to object, but stalked out of view instead.

The mystic lightly touched the tiger's face. To think that she had been so-- Pain blazed throughout his body and brought fresh tears to his eyes.

"My Lord Tygra, you must stop thinking of me!" the tigress ordered. "Your healing pathways have been ripped open. Any concern that you feel for me will only result in more pain for you."

"Explain to me how this has happened," he asked weakly. "If I focus on your explanation, maybe the pain will lessen."

"Tygra, I have no concrete answers. I can surmise, however, that your emotional response to my injury was so great that you reached into the healing that exists within you."

"Red tigers do not heal."

"Tygra, all I can tell you is this: when I revived, I found you unconscious, and rimmed in mystic blue. I used the minimum amount of my power to stabilize you, or I could have slain you. Tygra, whether it is 'impossible' or not, you sent enough healing into me to restore ten Thunderans.

"As I tended you, Panthro and the others arrived because the Sword of Omens summoned them on your behalf."

"Where are they now?" Tygra queried as he realized that only Talitha and Panthro had remained with him.

"Panthro sent them back to the Lair. The kittens had become quite upset. Your last illness was too fresh in their minds; it frightened them to see you down. Snarf convinced them that you would survive. The rest of us were less sure of the outcome, but we let the kittens believe that you would be well."

Her words had distracted him enough to significantly ease his discomfort. Feeling stronger, Tygra said bravely, "Then I cannot disappoint the young ones, Talitha. Help me to my feet. If I can at least walk into the Lair--"

"Absolutely not! Your nervous system cannot tolerate this level of abuse, and I will not have you falling unconscious." The mystic turned away, and shouted, "Panthro, you can take Tygra into the tank now."

"Blasted well time!"

"Now wait, Panthro, I--" The warrior lifted the protesting architect into his arms. The returning pain and the accompanying vertigo quieted the tiger. The unpleasant sensations subsided once Panthro set him down in the rear bay of the tank. Talitha placed some cloth under his head and feet to cushion him during the ride.

The great vehicle lurched forward. Tygra thought, Maybe I will feel better once I enter the Lair. Little daggers of pain pierced his body with each rock that the tank negotiated, and cast an ominous doubt on his hopes.

*****

Safely ensconced in his quarters, Tygra reclined on his bed. Beneath the protective layer of blankets, he wore only an ak'ti. The strip of fabric covered his genitals, and not much else.

Tygra watched the mystic as she diligently chased the other Thundercats from his room. He silently thanked the gods for her intervention. He had tried to answer Lord Lion-o's questions, but had fatigued quickly. The mystic had accurately read his distress. Taking the young Lord of the Thundercats aside, she had promised to brief him at a later time. Lion-o had grudgingly agreed with her suggestion.

The soft click of the closing door brought the tiger back to the present. The white tigress studied him with such serious intent that he feared for his own welfare. Unable to withstand her cool blue stare any longer, he blurted "If I am going to die, I would appreciate it if you would please tell me."

Talitha drifted to his bedside, and set her hand upon his shoulder. "You are well past that danger architect," she replied, "but you do face a crisis."

"Explain."

"Tygra, you still suffer because I have done little to alleviate the damage that you have caused yourself. By mystic law, I cannot proceed until I have your permission to heal you further. You need to know everything that you must face in order to reach a decision that is correct for you."

Making a decision was the last matter that the tiger wanted to consider. "Talitha, forgive my impertinence, but please, speak your mind plainly."

"Tygra, there apparently exists within you the power of mystic healing. You have activated this gift by saving me. As you know, such a talent is unknown among red tigers--"

"Then why am I so plagued!"

She continued calmly, "I do not know; however, you now have two choices. If I treat you with my healing, I can keep this newly formed pathway opened. Because you have abused it, the channel is raw and damaged. Convincing it to remain open will hurt you terribly, and despite this measure, I will not be able to predict what your level of healing will be. I suspect that it will be far less than is found in mystics. The natural repressor of red tiger mind gifts will also work on this new power.

"If I do not treat you with mystic healing, you will only be uncomfortable as the natural healing begins. The danger exists, however, that you might lose all of your mind talents if scarring indiscriminately closes every psychic connection."

Tygra wondered were the choice that she had mentioned had been hidden. He asked cautiously, "If you use your healing, will I at least retain what I originally possessed?"

"Yes, at the very least, that will be so."

Either selection had a price. If the channel stayed open, and even a minimum amount of healing power thrived, he would have to be trained in its use, for the mystic-born who refused to accept his power and utilize it courted madness.

The way of natural healing held the danger of psychic blindness. Although he rarely exercised his special gifts because of the energy drain that they produced, they were a part of his identity. More to the point, his powers had saved his life in the past.

Tygra regarded the serene mystic. By all the gods, how do I tell her that I do not desire this gift. I have always resented the medical training that Claudus and Jaga forced upon me. The suffering of those that I helped through the practice of medicine became my own. All I ever wanted from life was to be an architect, not a physician, not a warrior, and not, Jaga help me, a mystic.

Talitha broke into his thoughts. "Tygra, I will leave you for now. I will check with you in an hour, for if I am to act, it must be swiftly.

"But consider what you have done this day. And when you have studied the event from every perspective, replay the scene with Lord Lion-o in my place." Her statement made, the tigress departed.

Tygra stared at the ceiling, and knew that the mystic's words had decided the battle.

*****

"Think that you can make a mystic out of me, Talitha?" Tygra asked.

"Goddess be praised, I knew that you had the courage to bear this challenge."

He said gruffly, "You can praise my 'bravery' after I have endured the torture that you have devised. Now proceed, mystic!"

"With your permission, Tygra, I think that we will need the help of Panthro and Lion-o. May I call them?"

"And what will you tell them, mystic?"

"Tygra, they already know what will be required."

He gasped, "Did you never doubt what my choice would be?"

"No, architect. You care too deeply for others. That is why you have been given this privilege." She tapped the door release, and let in his companions.

Both Lion-o and Panthro were still attired in their Thundercat uniforms: boots, trunks, and insignia belt, all in varying shades of blue. The spikes of the panther's twin bandoliers had a menacing quality all their own; Lion-o, to his surprise, was bare-chested. The pair only lacked their special weapons to be outfitted for war, he thought.

The grey warrior dropped the two long braids of rope that he shouldered onto the nightstand. "She said that we will need this, Tygra," he explained, "but I am doubtful that you can resist both Lion-o and me."

Will it be that awful, Tygra wondered, if she believes that such binding will be needed. Despite his concern, he replied, "Do whatever she suggests, Panthro. I suppose anything is possible."

"Talitha, how should we begin?" Panthro asked.

"Use one rope to secure his wrists, the other his ankles. You will both need to hold your rope tightly, so I advise that you loop a section around the bedframe for anchoring."

The harsh instruction piqued Lion-o. "White, this is not Mumm-Ra!"

"Lion-o, the procedure is necessary because I want to heal Tygra in one attempt. He will find it less painful than enduring several gentler trials. He will also recover faster."

Scratching his red mane absently, Lion-o conceded, "I suppose you do know what is best."

Panthro tossed one rope to the young king. "Before we bind him, let's reposition him to make this easier for us and Talitha. Then you can tie his ankles, and I'll handle his wrists. Be sure to make the knots tight. Nothing crazier than a wounded tiger."

After a minute's jostling by the pair, Tygra lay diagonally across his bed. His feet almost touched one edge of the carved headboard, while his skull pointed toward the foot of the bed. The panther drew the tiger's arms above his head as he maneuvered the rope. Lion-o tugged his rope too forcefully, and yanked his elder's ankles. He muttered a quick apology to the architect.

Tygra resisted a hysterical urge to laugh. If anyone were to see me, he thought scornfully, they would believe me to be in the hands of Mutant torturers! In a disquieting way, his current state reminded him all too vividly of the unpleasant night that he had spent bound to a Mutant contraption specialized to pull its victim apart.

"May I begin, Tygra?"

The mystic's soft voice broke the harsh memory. Doubts whirled in his head. Was it really so important that he add psychic healing to his repertoire? Had not the House of Claudus been more than adequately compensated for its early investment in him?

A cool breeze venturing through an open window played with the fine hairs on his soles. He glanced down at his uncomfortable feet and their moorings. He moved his gaze to Lion-o, who nervously fingered his rope. What if it had indeed been the young lion who had been in jeopardy today, he wondered. Everything that they had suffered during the long reign of Mutant oppression would have been rendered meaningless, if the healing gift had not been granted to him. Shame reached his heart. How could I have been so selfish? Tygra admitted.

Talitha lightly touched his orange mane and traced a black stripe. He placed his trust in her ability. No matter the level of pain that I must endure, he decided, I know that she will help me as much as possible. He whispered to the mystic, "Begin."

The tigress positioned herself behind him. The tips of her fingers delicately rested against his temples. An irritating sensation followed the wisps of blue that soon darted above his eyes like tiny insects. Perhaps this will not be so terrible after all, he mused. What little vitality remained to him seemed to fly away with the colorful spirits. Tygra quieted a yawn. I am glad that Lion-o will not be upset by this. Oh Talitha, how you have misjudged! You will only watch me fall asleep instead of fight.

Tygra had difficulty focusing his eyes. Lion-o had become a large, tawny blur near his feet. By Jaga, I feel so weighed down! It is as if I were made of stone. He passed into the paralyzing stupor that preceded sleep. The bits of blue that hovered before his sight now merged with one another in a bizarre mating of light that slowly covered his vision. When the last flier completed the veil over his eyes, Tygra screamed.

The desperate Thundercat fought wildly to remove the invisible swords that had skewered his brain. He colored the brilliance with his anguish, and crossed beyond his suffering.

Tygra entered a place free of light and torment. *Let me rest, forever,* he prayed.

A swirl of white spiraled in the darkness, and said to his mind, *Your time has not yet come. There is much that you need to do.*

A white tigress of incredible beauty danced within the cloud. Her eyes held the sadness of one who had endured great suffering. Tygra cried, *Let me help you!* The beautiful apparition smiled. She faced her palms toward him, and called forth golden light. Her rays entered his body, and filled him with her love. Satiated with peace, he received her name. *Mrísena take me,* he sighed.

Tygra accepted his destiny, and knew no more.

*****

The plaintive tones of the harp sounded from a place hidden by the night. Ah, Taija! Must you practice so much. Set down your instrument, and come to your neglected lover. Let your claw tips release the music that you will find in me.

Tygra softly growled his request to the dark. "Sweet, Taija, come to me." He shifted his body toward the dying music, and awoke. The radiant dawn pained his eyes. He discovered to his surprise that he did not rest in his chamber within the royal palace, but rather in a strange room. He looked to his left, and beheld a white tigress. She sat on an outlandishly carved chair nestled by a series of windows that let in the dawn. He tried to rise from his bed, but sank back down in exhaustion. The blue-robed female set aside her harp, and cautiously approached him.

"Who are you!" he snarled impotently. "I demand an explanation for this intrusion!" The bold youngster caressed his face. Her name formed on his lips. "Talitha!" A wave of confusion replaced his brief sojourn into the past. "By the Goddess, what have I been saying! For a moment, I thought--"

"That you were back on Thundera."

"If I have given any offense, I--"

"None, Tygra. I knew that you still dreamed, but who is this Taija? The only individual that I can recall with that rare name was the greatest harpist that Thundera has ever produced."

Tygra met her curious blue eyes, and muttered, "One and the same."

"You knew her! You must tell me all about her, Tygra. Every harpist that I have ever known has aspired to her level of achievement." Suddenly, the mystic covered her mouth. She finally realized that Taija had shared more with him than an interest in music. She sputtered, "You must have felt honored...I mean...forgive me, I did not intend to intrude."

Her innocence made him smile. Pointing to her harp, he said politely, "When I have grown stronger, I will speak of her to you...in the interest of perfecting your craft, of course."

"Thank you elder," she replied shyly. A tense silence settled between them until a knock on the door banished their mutual embarrassment.

"Enter!" they said in unison.

Panthro crossed into the room. He brandished a thick book. "See, Talitha! I told you that you didn't have to worry. Takes plenty to kill a tiger." He looked at the architect, and tossed the book to him. Tygra caught it easily with his left hand. "Well, your reflexes are fine," Panthro teased. "How do you feel otherwise?"

As Tygra placed the book on the nightstand, he took a quick inventory of his condition. Other than the vivid dream that he had experienced upon awakening, he found that he had no memory of the healing process, but his pain had finally vanished. He replied, "Weary, Panthro, but amazingly, no distress except that which is caused by a very full bladder."

"Can he make it to the bath by himself, Talitha?" Panthro asked. The mystic shook her head from side to side. The panther said, "Mind being escorted, Tygra?"

"Better than soiling the linens, I suppose," he responded dryly.

Talitha announced, "Then if you will excuse me, I want to prepare some food for my patient. I'll be back shortly."

After her departure, Tygra allowed Panthro to help him to the adjoining bath. His slow progress had shown him how truly weakened he had become. As Panthro assisted him back into his bed, Tygra took several deep breaths.

"Not as strong as you thought, eh, Tygra," Panthro declared. "Only the gods above know why you aren't dead." Allowing for the spikes on his bandoliers, the grey warrior settled himself carefully onto the ugly chair. "And I still want to know how you alone scared off Mumm-Ra."

"One hell of an illusion, Panthro," the tiger admitted without divulging the content of his trickery. His answer apparently satisfied his friend, who grunted his approval. Although he doubted that he could fool Seti with the same illusion, Tygra wanted to keep the image that he had chosen hidden. Good Meryt, whom the local people knew only as Mumm-Rana, had secretly supplied the information to him. The female mummy had charged him to use this knowledge only in a dire circumstance.

"Anyway, you frightened us when you had a seizure during the healing," Panthro continued.

"I had a seizure!"

"I guess it was a good thing too, or you would have completely broken the bed. There are several cracks in the frame that you haven't noticed." He returned to his accounting of the healing. "Talitha stopped her efforts when you had your attack, and then you passed out completely. She was convinced that she had harmed you. She got real upset. She claimed your condition was her fault, although I don't see how. Well, I gave her a shake, and--"

"How dare you!" Tygra shouted as he vainly struggled to leave his bed.

"Ho, easy cub! I didn't hurt her. I just broke her hysteria, that's all. Now for Jaga's sake, calm yourself. I'm surprised that you would even think such a thing of me."

Properly chastised, Tygra said, "Sorry Panthro...it's just that I can't bear to think of how close I came to losing her." The tiger stared at his hands, and tried to imagine the power that he had summoned.

His friend replied sincerely, "I think we all feel the same way, Tygra. We were also worried about you."

Flustered by the comment, the architect snapped, "And where in the seven hells did that hideous chair come from? It certainly doesn't belong to me."

Panthro chuckled, then quipped, "You can blame it on some unknown snarf crafter...and Talitha."

"My mystic?"

"Yes...ah, your mystic. She monitored you after you fell unconscious. When her examination ended, she decided to place you into a sleep cycle. I suppose that she didn't want to risk another healing until she was sure of your condition. She requested a chair from the recreation hall, but I dug this monstrosity out of storage. It may be hideous, but it is good for someone trying to keep a long vigil."

The opening of the door ended their conversation. Talitha moved into the room. She placed a large tray of food on the nightstand, and said cheerily, "Some warm bread, and hot broth for now, architect. Maybe later I'll get you some meat."

Tygra noted her exhaustion in her stooped posture. "And when was the last time that you rested, mystic," he chided.

"She hasn't slept since your injury yesterday, Tygra."

"I can speak for myself, panther," Talitha grumbled. "What he says is true, Tygra, but I couldn't relax until I knew for certain that you were not made worse by my efforts."

"I checked on her during the night," Panthro added. "She kept reading that blasted book, then had the audacity to give it to me when she finished. Honestly, Talitha, are you sure that it is written in Thunderan?"

Tygra retrieved the tome. "What is this all about?" he asked as he flipped through the pages.

"The section that I read addressed gene repression, and the expression of red tiger mind gifts," the mystic explained.

"See what I mean, Tygra, unintelligible!"

The mystic gave the panther a withering look. "As I have stated before, a genetic repressor accounts for the limits on red tiger mind gifts. This even extends to your power of illusion, which arose as an independent mutation not found in the white tiger clans. This repressor also makes the use of your gift tiring. However, what I did not know was this: it has been suggested that this repressor also prevents in the red tiger the wide range of different psychic abilities appearing in the white race."

"So what you are saying, Talitha, is that I have essentially been de-repressed for healing, a mind gift only seen in white tigers."

"Yes, Tygra, but to a small degree. I had to check while you slept because my curiosity was so great. The pathway did stay open after my healing. We also know that mystic healing is the phenotypic expression of two genes for empathy. Your mother, a mystic, supplied one; we must assume that your father also had at least one gene for this trait. Siberan actually represents a proof of the hypothesis. It also makes me wonder whether all Thunderans, not just red tigers, carry the genetic potential for psychic gifts, but have had it repressed."

"An interesting point. Cheetara, as you know, has demonstrated seeress ability, but it is an unpredictable talent at best." The tiger brightened. "Now tell me, how long before we can test what I can do?"

"Tygra it is better that you first recover your strength. I did succeed in repairing all the damage in one attempt, but nothing further is required from you right now. When you improve, maybe in a few days, I'll start you at the beginning with breathing exercises...just like any other mystic. But don't be disappointed in your progress. It may take many suns before you can heal even a cut...and you may not be able to do any more than that."

His comment was a yawn. As fascinating as this discussion with the mystic was, he felt exhausted.

"I know that you want and need to sleep, architect, but I must insist that you first have something to eat."

"And what of you, mystic? You are also cloaked in weariness."

"Eat...and I promise I'll turn you over to Panthro's care, so that I may sleep. Is this fine with you, Panthro?"

"Absolutely!"

"Then pass me some bread," Tygra declared. As Tygra ate, Talitha valiantly tried to explain the genetic treatise to Panthro.

"Mystic, I understand the language of engineering, not biology!"

"It is not that different, Panthro. If only you would exercise some patience, I'm sure that what is written will become clear to you."

Their pleasant banter improved Tygra's mood. Taking another mouthful of bread, he had an unexpected insight. I suppose, he mused, that this is one circumstance where evil has brought forth some good. Invigorated by the thought, Tygra dunked his bread into the steamy broth with zest. How I would enjoy taunting Mumm-Ra with that!