Autumn Eclipse

The cheetah quietly watched the tiger. Only the movement of his left hand indicated his presence. He sat on a supremely ugly chair that faced a row of tall windows which let pass the grey light before dawn. The clicking of his claws on the armrest matched his restlessness. Cheetara wondered yet again what strange humor had overcome her friend.

The prior evening, Tygra had asked her to his bed. It was a request that merited note, for it was usually she who asked for the pleasure of joining. Odder than his invitation had been the change in his lovemaking.

She had often sought Panthro for speedy, passionate sex, but she went to the tiger for love that fed the soul as well as the body. Tygra pleased her in a slow, thoughtful manner that burned steadily throughout the night like a well-tended fire.

Last evening, he had loved her with desperation, not joy. He had cast aside the playful banter that usually preceded his lovemaking, and had set immediately to his task. Although he had taken the time to ensure her readiness, his quick strokes to climax had left her disconcerted and dissatisfied. Her quiet friend had often made of love a song, but during the long night, his joinings had become lamentations. When he had finally tired, she had let him fall into an exhausted sleep without questioning him about his behavior.

Now, each click of his claws fed her rising irritation. I've been patient. It is time for answers, she decided. The cheetah slipped from his bed, and padded across the room. The contemplative tiger did not mark her presence until her naked form blocked the rising sun.

Before she could indulge her indignation, he looked at her, and said, "Please forgive me for the abysmal manner in which I treated you, Cheetara."

His sincere words banished her anger, but renewed her concern. The sorrow that colored his amber eyes was genuine. She hated to think that she had helped to foster it, for nothing had prevented her refusal. She replied, "Tygra, once our passion illuminated the royal palace as if out of legend. In the name of the abiding friendship that has grown from passion's ending, please, tell me what troubles you. To have been taken by you in such an uncaring way was horrible."

Tygra nodded in agreement, and turned his sight to the dawn. He said with resignation, "In the past, the needs of the flesh have not often troubled me. When I felt desire, my release through you did not become a mere settlement of a troublesome feeling, but rather an act of beauty because our friendship transformed it.

"Lately my desire for joining has increased to a level to which I am unaccustomed. I have tried to ignore it...suppress it... but it hounded me until I freed it by surrender to you."

"Why have I become the object of such scorn by one who has professed to be my friend?" she asked sadly.

His reply was hesitant, but truthful. "I believe, Cheetara, that I have fallen in love with Talitha, and this emotion has fueled my turmoil. In the night, I scorned myself, not you, for I was being dishonest with my feelings, and selfish in my need." The tiger lowered his head in shame.

Cheetara considered his words. The young mystic had not yet experienced her first cycle of fertility. She was incapable of joining with the tiger. With each climax, Tygra had dreamt of his mystic, and not her. His anger had contaminated their joining, for he had believed that his need was a weakness.

The tiger guarded his heart well. It had cost him dearly to be so honest with her. He may have erred in his choice of action, Cheetara thought, but he has exonerated himself with the truth.

She lifted his chin so that his eyes met hers. "Tygra, you should have come to me sooner with this matter. As your friend, I would have understood. I won't pretend that I have not been hurt. After all, you desired another while we loved; however I do understand your predicament. We have known each other for many seasons. Until the time comes when you can approach Talitha, won't you let me help you?"

Although temptation flickered in his eyes, he shook his head in refusal. Cheetara sighed. Once Tygra had given his heart, there was only room for one. His natural fidelity threatened the Lair. His heated debates in council had supported her fear. The tiger's steadfast contention that their biological continuance represented a fantasy had stunned everyone. Considering their small population, the evidence was unfortunately in his favor, and her long term absence of fertility had only helped him to firmly bury the matter until Lion-o's awakening. She had hoped that Talitha's presence would break the stalemate, but it now appeared that his new found love for the mystic might only serve to worsen the existing situation.

She let her hand fall while she silently studied the muscular lines of his body. By the gods, Tygra, you are beautiful. I am not ready to think of a life without your special touch. She said, "For my sake, I hope that, for a little longer, I may request joining with you."

For a instant, it seemed that he would also refuse this possibility, but he said quietly, "For the time...yes...to reject you would be...unfair."

She had been denied her full pleasure last night, and now her desire for the tiger grew once more. Always responsive to her moods, Tygra acted on his promise, and opened his arms in welcome. Cheetara looked out the windows to the brightening east. It was time for Tygra to relieve Panthro of the night watch. She said with soft regret, "Later Tygra...you know how Panthro hates to be kept waiting."

To her surprise, the tiger pulled her forward, and coaxed her onto his thighs. He traced the slight arc of her belly with his claws. Delightful ripples flowed over her abdomen. Tygra purred, "That old warrior can wait."

Cheetara found no falsehood in his words.

*****

Framed against a violet horizon, Tir'shan stood before the tigress. He wore a robe the color of the night. The great tiger rested his large hands on Talitha's shoulders, and murmured, "Long have I waited for this day, little one." He lifted her effortlessly into his arms. He gently set his lips to her own. A thousand torches burned within her heart as he called her body to life.

Tir'shan slowly withdrew his kiss, and carefully lowered Talitha to the purple earth. He placed her across the broad field of his chest. Her passion simmered with each playful kiss he set along her neck and mane.

Hungry for more than he had yet to offer, she quickly untied the belt at his waist. He laughed in pleasant surprise at her boldness, but swiftly countered. He parted the front of her gown, and let his hand slide to the soft flesh between her thighs.

"Love me," Talitha whispered.

"Into eternity," Tir'shan sighed.

The priest transformed into a being of white smoke. The cloud tiger surrounded her, and pierced her maidenhead. Through her ivory partner, the tigress indulged her desire. As she reached the height of her pleasure, the spirit solidified into a red tiger, who roared his climax in unison with her own. Lying upon her spent lover, she toyed with his fiery mane, and said happily, "Again, Tygra."

"Tygra!" Her surprised shout broke the dream's spell. Talitha bolted upright in her bed, and quivered. Her fright soon dissipated when she became aware of the wet linen beneath her buttocks. The tigress put her hand under the sheets, and touched her sex. The action aroused her. The sticky mucus on her fingertips confirmed her suspicion: fertility. As she cleaned her hand on the linen, a wave of dizziness followed. "Some water might help," she whimpered. She staggered from her bed, and made her way unsteadily to the bath.

What little morning light filtered into her room hurt her eyes. The air, which carried the unmistakable scent of spice, chilled her unclothed body. When she pressed the door control for the bath, her fingers tingled.

Leaning over the sink, she had the unsettling urge to vomit. After several minutes, the queasy feeling deserted her. Happy that some measure of normalcy had returned to her, Talitha washed her hands, then splashed some cool water on her face. The bitter taste of the water that she drank surprised her.

She addressed her reflection in the small mirror above the sink as the significance of her situation became clear. "I'll have to tell everyone, but in the name of the Goddess, how! Tygra is the leader of the council, but I can't--"

The mention of his name made her examine her dream. Was the architect one who she truly wanted, or did she desire him only because of her condition? He was certainly all that any female could want. Although he was handsome, he possessed an inner beauty that would remain long after his youth had passed. The thoughtful architect treated everyone in the Lair with a level of respect far greater than any he asked for himself. The kittens looked to him not only as a teacher, but as a surrogate father. With them, he used gentleness and compassion, qualities rare in any individual.

Poor Tir'shan. Did the priest ever feel the way she had dreamt? The sounds of morning suddenly intruded on her thoughts. Has it always been so noisy, she wondered.

What to do? She studied her face. She didn't feel any older than yesterday, but the few light brown hairs that shaded her ivory tresses told her that she was an adult. Soon, the new fur would blend with the dark stripes, and cap her mane.

She plucked a cinnamon hair, a sign of her new status. Only one other person in the Lair had experienced what she felt. "Cheetara will advise me properly," she said confidently to her mirror image. Satisfied with her decision, Talitha fiddled with the control knobs for the shower. "But not until I have had a chance to bathe!"

*****

The nervous mystic tapped on the door to Cheetara's quarters. A flustered, "Wait!" greeted her from the other side. The portal soon opened to reveal a wet cheetah draped in a towel that barely covered her hips and her breasts. "Talitha, whatever is the matter?" her friend sputtered.

Did her confusion really show that much, or had she simply neglected to consider the Thundercat's high level of empathy.

"Ten maidens, mystic! If you aren't going to answer me, then for Jaga's sake, come inside!" Cheetara pulled her into the room while struggling to keep the towel from sliding off of her body. "Sit!" she commanded as she pointed to the bed. Talitha dropped onto the soft mattress. Cheetara settled on a floor cushion, and waited patiently for her to speak.

To her surprise, the words that she needed were hard in coming. Talitha finally stammered, "I--it has happened!"

"What has happened?" Cheetara asked with more than a tinge of annoyance coloring her voice.

"It."

"It? Talitha, this is no time for games, and hardly like you at--Jaga and the seven maidens! You mean--"

"Yes...this morning."

"Are you sure?"

"I've yet to change the bedding."

"Never mind that. How are you?"

Talitha started to answer, but an unexpected sob broke her voice. Cheetara moved to her side. "Talitha, this is a time for rejoicing, not weeping. You are an adult now. You are also a healer, and should, of all females, best understand and accept this change."

Through the tears which flowed freely, Talitha croaked, "But I am frightened." The realization that she had finally named what she had felt halted her weeping, and made her question. Indeed, what was there to fear: the revelation of her condition to the adult males; the prospect of first joining; a pregnancy? Any of these choices was a valid candidate, but perhaps she had yet to admit the true reason, something she still refused to acknowledge.

"Listen to me, mystic, no one in this household will come to you unless you indicate willingness, so you can just set aside your fear. Unless--do you want a cub?"

"Goddess, no! It is too soon!"

"Fine. That determines your next move. You must tell Panthro and Tygra before your condition sets them on edge."

"I know," Talitha mumbled with resignation. "That is why I came to you for assistance."

"You realize that full council must be called." Talitha nodded meekly. "I will send a message to Tygra to assemble everyone for a meeting. You must declare your adulthood before all."

The mystic blurted, "Why can't you just tell them for me, Cheetara! I feel so--"

"Talitha! You are an adult, and that means accepting responsibility for your female power."

The tigress bowed her head in surrender. Cheetara's gentle touch did little to comfort her. "It is not as bad as you think," she said softly, "but only time will help you in this transition. Now, why don't you just stay here for awhile, and rest. Have you eaten?"

"No...I don't think that I could keep breakfast down right now."

"Tigers! Are you all alike? The moment trouble surfaces, you starve yourselves," Cheetara grumbled.

Talitha lifted her head, and met the cheetah's golden eyes. The grimace on her friend's face made her look quite comic. Despite her turmoil, the young mystic laughed.

"Now that is better!" Cheetara declared.

*****

Tygra sat at his computer terminal in the control room of Cats' Lair. He slammed his hand against the counter. The calculations that he had completed for the fifth time were once again in error. "Jaga's balls!" he snarled as he cleared the memory with several swift keystrokes.

"Tygra, to hear such language from you, snarf, snarf!"

The startled tiger almost broke a claw on the keyboard. He swiveled his chair around, and glared at the whining servant. Snarf pushed forward a serving cart loaded with enough food to feed three tigers. "What is all this?" Tygra growled pointing to the abundance set before him. The architect still smarted from the stern lecture that Panthro had delivered upon his late arrival.

"No need to yell at me, Thundercat, just because you made a mistake," the plump snarf huffed. "You have a healing practice session with White today. You need your strength if you are to raise more power, so I've brought you a nice assortment of your favorite foods, like Balkin bread, and--"

"Enough, Snarf! Now listen to me. No one will be more surprised than me when I finally reach a healing state, but food to feed the legions will not lower my inherent resistance to the process."

Snarf's large pointed ears angled forward with irritation. The yellow fur along his back bristled. The red ball of fur scooped up a piece of fruit with his thick prehensile tail, and flung it at the big cat, who caught the succulent projectile with ease. Snarf said firmly, "Remember the benefit to the Lair if an extra healer lives within its walls, Tygra."

The tiger angrily flipped the fruit back onto the cart. He hissed, "Snarf, I fear that I will never become a healer. I do not belong to the white clan. After a summer of practice, the whole affair has become an exercise in frustration. Every time I touch the healing mode, the resistance triggers, and the effort is aborted. Unless I can enter a healing state, I will not be able to learn the vibrations of healing."

Undaunted, the snarf shoved a retaliatory bowl of fish stew into the architect's open hands. "White said to make sure that you eat. She said that you have lost some weight."

The tiger quickly set the hot bowl on the counter. The mystic's assessment was probably correct, he admitted. For the last few days, his appetite had reached a nadir. The aroma from the snarf's concoction worked its magic. A low rumble from his midsection sided with the stubborn elder. "Very well, Snarf," he conceded reluctantly, "the stew will serve just fine. The rest you can take--"

Kitra sprinted into the room. The colorful youngster handed the tiger a note while lifting some bread from the cart. "Cheetara said that I should wait for an answer, Tygra," she said between nibbles.

Tygra scanned the message. The terse note requested a council meeting, but did not specify a reason. "Wilykit, did Cheetara tell you why she wants a meeting called?"

The petite kitten wrinkled her white nose as she thought. "No, Tygra," she finally replied while dusting the crumbs off of her blue-pink tunic.

"Well, Tygra, snarf, snarf?"

The cheetah's secrecy made him uneasy. "I have to finish these calculations. If you and Wilykit can speak with the others--"

"We get the hint, Tygra, snarf, snarf. What time?"

"Noon."

The snarf reached up, and touched the kitten's wrist. Let's go, Wilykit."

"All right, Snarf," she chirped as she commandeered the cart.

The muffled conversation of kitten and snarf drifted away. The tiger quietly worked his calculations, and let his meal grow cold.

*****

Through the row of arched windows, Tygra watched the play of light on the southern plain. Puffy clouds patterned the land with shadows. The distant trees, which had begun to show the touch of an early autumn, swayed gently with the rising wind.

Rain will come, he decided. The tiger prayed for the swift passage of the storm. Those who cultivated the fields still harvested the bounty of the land, and desperately needed the cooperation of the weather.

A sharp click lured his attention away from the scenic view and to the door of the council chamber. Still cleaning his hands on a towel, Panthro moved into the room. He tucked the soiled cloth into a pocket of the coarsely woven trousers that he wore for the dirty work of tank maintenance. He took his place at the council table, and snapped, "Blasted grease! Once it gets into your fur, takes forever to get it out! I didn't think that I would ever finish with the tank. Every blasted thing that could be checked needed to be checked by the time I finished. It didn't help, Tygra, that I got a late start."

Hadn't a sincere apology been enough? The tiger raised a finger to rebuke him, but kept his peace when Cheetara appeared.

The sleek female ran her fingers along the short grey fur of the warrior's skull. "Leave him alone, Panthro. You know that it was I who kept him." Not assuaged by her admission, the panther growled.

Without waiting for the cheetah to take her seat, the tiger questioned her. "Why?" he asked directly.

Cheetara moved past the architect without answering, and sat. She toyed with the straps of her orange bodysuit. She replied coolly, "You will have to wait, Tygra, until everyone is present for the answer you require. This is a delicate matter."

The tiger searched his memory for some clue to the mystery, but remained puzzled. As he pondered the situation, the remaining members of the household slowly filtered into the chamber. Because only six chairs surrounded the table, Talitha and Snarf positioned themselves by the windows. Katren gallantly offered his place to the mystic, but she politely declined. Instead, she perched on the wide window ledge. Snarf muttered his discontent when neither kitten offered the same courtesy to him.

Tygra stood behind his chair, and studied the small group. Except for Panthro, all the Thundercats had worn their uniforms as a matter of formality. Although the snarf was considered a Thundercat, he eschewed the use of clothing as all snarfs preferred. The elder impatiently tapped the tan scales of his abdomen.

The mystic, as was her custom, had worn her robe of healer blue. She clicked her sandaled feet, and pulled at her claws. Her nervousness marred the air of quiet expectation that filled the gathering. Tygra wondered what had disturbed her. Perhaps she is frustrated with my lack of progress, he thought. Lately, it seems that she has tired too quickly during our practices. I will speak to her when we have finished here. I must discover what is amiss. She has worked hard with me. I owe her the respect her teaching warrants.

Shelving his concern, the tiger convened the meeting. He struck a small gavel on the large round table. Although Lion-o was the Lord of the Thundercats, and final arbitrator, Tygra led the council. He said, "Cheetara has called council. I have no insight into her concerns, and so, I ask that she speak."

The cheetah replied, "It is true that I have given the summons, but it is Talitha who must enlighten us."

The mystic kept her gaze on her slender fingers. She whispered, "I have come into my...fertility."

Panthro gave a low whistle. Tygra dropped onto his chair. The gavel slipped from between his fingers, and struck the stone floor. By his accounting, he knew that the mystic was only days away from her twenty-first birthday. How could he have been so blind to the evidence, he wondered with amazement.

The snarf broke the silence that followed the mystic's announcement. "Gods above, Tygra, better close your mouth before you catch a passing insect, snarf, snarf!" The servant returned the gavel to the stunned tiger. "And the rest of you, this is good news for Jaga's sake!"

Lion-o chirped, "Snarf's right! Now White can have a cub."

"That is exciting!" Kitra added. "Just think of all the fun we can have with a cub in the Lair to play with. Don't you think so too, Wilykat?" The perky youngster tugged her twin's brown tunic when he did not respond immediately.

Katren pushed his sister away. The shy kitten ran his hand through the two black stripes that patterned his orange mane. He finally commented hesitantly, "Y-y-yes."

"Enough!" Tygra roared. "This is not a matter for jesting. This is serious."

"Please, Tygra, do not scold them for their innocence. The problem is not as serious as you may believe," the mystic said quietly. She held his gaze, and added, "I do not wish a cub from my first cycle."

Sadness touched his heart. Tygra quickly suppressed the unwanted feeling. He carefully reminded himself of his own staunchly held view that a cub should be conceived in love, not necessity, and born into a world that held the promise of mates and offspring.

Panthro responded, "Cub or no, mystic, in only a few days your presence will--"

"Create a distraction, yes, I know, Panthro, and that is why I will stay with the warrior women for the duration of my cycle."

"That's insane!" Tygra shouted as he leapt to his feet. Bewildered faces greeted his outburst.

Cheetara challenged his objection. "If Talitha stays in the Lair, even if she is isolated, the desires stirred by her nearness and, perhaps unintentionally by her fertile scent, may spur you to fight each other. Among the warrior women, she will be truly separated from you, as in any Thunderan temple to Miritana, and be protected. You must also face the truth, Tygra, that the Lair would become a more likely target for attacks by the Mutants or Mumm-Ra if you and Panthro were to leave instead."

"Talitha is not expendable."

"No one is saying that she is, Tygra," Panthro said gently.

The mystic came forward and slapped her hands on the table. She raised her voice in anger. "I will not tolerate quarreling! It is my body, and my decision." She turned to the architect, and said, "I thought that you admired the warrior women, and their fighting skills, or was your position only polite condescension? They have protected their kingdom long before Thunderans shared the land."

Demanding silence Tygra struck the gavel. The mystic ignored his warning. "You have forgotten, architect, that I can defend myself. Besides my skills, in which you obviously place little trust, I carry the potent staff that once belonged to your mother. The ray of light that I can call forth from the crystal set in its crown will temporarily blind any assailant. So you see, Tygra, you need not worry about me or my sisters." The mystic stormed back to the window ledge. Her dark blue eyes radiated her fierce anger.

Lion-o said diplomatically, "It seems to me, Tygra, that the decision has already been made, but shall we vote anyway?"

His impotence chafed the tiger. Everything Talitha had said had carried some truth. He suddenly wondered why he had reacted so violently and possessively. Love, after all, did not seek to impose chains.

Knowing that he had lost, Tygra said with measured voice, "Does anyone have anything to add before we vote?" Silence met his question. "Then is there any objection to the mystic staying with the warrior women for the term of her cycle?"

"Just one, Tygra, snarf, snarf."

"Out with it, Snarf!"

"Shouldn't we contact Queen Willa before we invite Talitha into her kingdom?" The snarf's question brought laughter, and eased the tension in the room.

"It will be done," Tygra said wearily. With no other objections, and Lion-o's approval, Tygra accepted defeat. He struck the gavel halfheartedly, and adjourned the meeting. He turned to the mystic to apologize for his rude behavior, but she ignored him, and swiftly departed.

Saddened by her dismissal, Tygra approached the windows. The sky had become a grey veil. Rain beaded the glass. He hoped that his friends would allowed him to be alone with his thoughts.

No one attempted to speak to the pensive architect. Soon, he was left with only his brooding reflection and the storm for company.

*****

A blue hand dispelled the image in the boiling waters of the stone cauldron. The hunched, rotted creature turned away, and with pained step, shuffled toward the open sarcophagus that rested within the skull-shaped crypt. Phosphorescent light from ancient mold illuminated the vaulted chamber with a sickly glow. Mumm-Ra crossed the shadows cast by the four towering guardians of carved rock that protected his magic. Satisfied with the scene that the cauldron had shown, his face crinkled into an evil grin. "So, young tigress, you think that you will find safe haven among the warrior women, but you are deadly wrong. Too long have I waited for an opportunity to strike at the soul of the Lair."

The bandaged creature that had once carried the name of Seti laughed in his madness. His red eyes grew bright. "Beware, Tygra, I have not forgotten your insult! With sweet music I will take your heart's desire, and destroy you with the love that has weakened you!" He shouted his challenge, but only the vermin and the decay of centuries listened with indifference.

The shrunken mummy, small in his weakness, settled into his coffin to rest and gather his strength. He whispered a command. The lid of the sarcophagus began to move. He hissed to the growing dark, "Yes, Tygra, I will cool your passion forever."

*****

Talitha reached for her harp, the last item that needed to be stored in the chest that she had prepared for her journey. Although Tygra had not come to bid her farewell, she could no longer delay her departure.

She slowly ran her fingers along the strings of the instrument. He must still be angry with me for my outburst in council yesterday, she thought. Maybe I should have set aside my pride and apologized.

The mystic placed the harp in a leather bag. The fine stitches that her mother had worked in a season long past were frayed. She carefully settled the harp among the other items, and closed the chest.

Someone tapped lightly on her door. "Tygra?" she asked hopefully.

"No. Lion-o. You did tell me to come at noontime."

"Enter," she replied dejectedly.

"All set?" Lion-o asked as he moved into the room.

Talitha forced a smile so as not to offend the young king by her disappointment. "Yes, Lion-o. It is just that one chest."

The lion shouldered the box with a surprised grunt. "Feels like everything in the Lair is in this one box, White! Do you really need to take all this stuff?"

To distract myself from thinking about Tygra, yes, she admitted only to herself. To Lion-o, she said, "I hope to study the medicine of the warrior women during my stay. For this purpose, I will require some of my books. I do not consider this trip a holiday."

Only momentarily confused by her answer, Lion-o finally responded, "Well, let's go then. It isn't everyday that I get to take the tank out by myself. Panthro is still fuming about Tygra's suggestion that I alone should drive you to the village. By the way, mind if we take a longer route before we cross the River?"

Everything about her situation bothered her, but she could do nothing to change matters. She took her staff, and replied politely, "Do as you wish, my lord." Visibly pleased by her response, the lion chattered happily as they ventured into the corridor.

Before the door closed, Talitha had one last glimpse of her chamber. The mystic forced aside the disquieting feeling that she had seen it for the last time.

*****

Peering through the windows that overlooked the southern plain, the lone Thundercat followed the movement of the tank. I should have wished her well, he thought with regret. But if I had, I would have never let her leave.

As the Thundertank veered to the east, and out of view, Tygra whispered, "Good journey, dear one."

*****

The blue light faded from the mystic's hands. "It is done, Willa. The wound is cleansed and healed. Fia should be fine, but I will check on her tomorrow to be certain. The sleep that I have placed upon her will last until the dawn, and help restore the blood that she has lost. If necessary, I can coax her body to speed the replacement of fluid, but I prefer to take a more conservative approach, and let natural healing proceed."

The queen of the warrior women replied, "White one, your stay here has truly benefitted my sisters, but now, you must think of yourself. I can see that this healing has drained you."

Talitha moved away from the cot. She stood by the doorway to the tree hut. A cool breeze brushed her fur in its passage through the parted door curtain. She leaned against the woven branches. Although the sun was far from setting, the tigress was prepared to sleep where she stood.

Talitha ran her hand through her mane to banish the lethargy that tried to claim her. She retrieved her staff from its precarious position by the entrance. "I need to walk, Willa. I leave Fia to your care." The dark-haired queen raised her left hand, and faced her palm to the mystic. Pleased that the young woman had given her leave without further questions, Talitha exited the hut.

Numerous wooden ramps connected the great trees that supported the homes of the warrior women. Talitha selected a path that would take her to her lodging, but by a circuitous route. As she progressed, each step seemed to require a supreme effort. Talitha stopped at a side ramp. She dropped onto a bench almost hidden by the overhanging leaves of red and gold. She placed her staff by her feet. It was nonsense to deny the truth any longer. Her cycle had interfered with her power, and had made each new healing more difficult.

She rested against the smooth bark. Servalla had spoken of this consequence of fertility, but she had never really believed the elder until now. A trained mystic, after all, was the master of her gift, not the slave. It certainly explained the uncharacteristic fatigue that she had experienced during her most recent healing sessions with Tygra.

Ah, Tygra. Why in all the seven hells had she thought of him. The need for joining swelled in her body like a cresting wave. She had been gone for seven days. With each sun, her longing for him had deepened.

"Enough of this foolishness," she growled. The mystic jumped off the bench, and grabbed her staff. Even a small respite from Thunderan biology had been denied her.

Talitha followed a ramp that sloped higher into the trees. A scent, or a word; a star, or a drop of falling water; all of these things had the power to conjure the architect in her thoughts. That she thirsted for the touch of his mind even more than his body was an enigma she had yet to solve, for her physical yearning could be easily dismissed.

At their first healing practice, the tiger had been reluctant to let her blend her mind to his as her method of instruction. In all other aspects, Tygra was an excellent student, but he had fought her mind touch with such intensity that she soon wondered whether his disinclination more than genetics accounted for his failure to achieve the healing state. For his own benefit, she had worked him hard by scheduling sessions at every available opportunity. This and her constant assault on his loyalty to Lion-o had weakened him so that blending eventually became easier; however, despite his partial submission, his resistance to her presence had drained her greatly in recent attempts. The reward for her suffering had come in the unguarded moments when Tygra had felt some measure of progress. The happiness that had flowed from his soul had pleased and strengthened her in a way she had been unable to describe.

The shadows crossing her path darkened as passing clouds freed the sun. Talitha suddenly felt a presence watching her from above. She looked up past the three ramps that led to her hut. Tygra gazed down from the uppermost ledge. He smiled then disappeared before her astonished eyes.

The mystic shielded her sight. "Calm yourself, Talitha," she said to her racing heart. "He cannot cast his illusions to this village. He can only reach you by telepathy, if he chooses, and you know that he would not elect to invade your privacy. Mystic, your lack of rest fuels your imagination."

A hand lightly touched her shoulder. The startled mystic leapt back, and brought her staff forward. The young warrior, clad only in skins, froze. Surprise filled the pale woman's eyes. Talitha lowered her weapon, and bowed. "Forgive me, Nayda, the day has been too long, and in my weariness, I let my guard down."

The queen's younger sister said, "Willa regrets to ask for your help once more, but a wolo has come seeking your healing."

"Show me the way, Nayda, and tell me of this wolo." As she walked with the maiden, Talitha prayed for endurance.

*****

Tygra stood on a crystal beach. The blazing sun filled each prism with color. Talitha floated serenely above the silver waves that inched toward his feet. The gentle currents of air billowed her long violet gown, and lifted her luminescent mane.

*Do not fight me, Tygra,* she pleaded. *We are destined to be one.* Blue daggers of light burst forth from her hands, and pierced his chest. With each bolt he pulled free, he cried out in agony. He awoke to a shout not of his making.

To the architect's amazement, he was not on a distant shore, but in the recreation hall of the Lair. As his head cleared, he realized that the exclamation had come from Lion-o. Although he had been asleep, he had pushed the Lord of the Thundercats across the room. The lion who sprawled before him wore the look of one whose dignity had been compromised by an unexpected betrayal.

The tiger began a stammering apology, but Panthro interrupted. "I warned you not to wake him, Lion-o, but you had to learn. You're just lucky that he didn't batter your eye closed. He did that to me the one time I tried to wake him from a night terror."

"I will take your advice more seriously next time, Panthro," the lion conceded as he rose. Lion-o rubbed his bruised shoulder. "Too bad you can't heal this injury Tygra. It smarts!" The tiger cringed at the mention of his inadequacy as a healer.

Panthro said, "A little mark like this is not one on which to waste any healer's power, cub. There is some salve in the sick room that will help. Such pain is nothing to a warrior." The panther poked the lion's abdomen. "You could use some toughening. I think Lair life has softened you."

Chastised, Lion-o replied meekly, "I'll be in the sick room, if anyone needs me." He silently brushed past the architect, and left.

The tiger rose from his chair. Panthro grabbed his shoulders, and faced him towards a wall mirror. The architect's tired reflection gazed back sadly. "Don't know what in the seven hells has gotten into you, Tygra, but you'd better watch yourself. I can feel the bones beneath this cloth. Lose anymore weight, and that uniform will slid off of your body."

"You're exaggerating, Panthro."

"Oh, am I." It happened so fast that Tygra did not recall the fall. The panther had him pinned on the stone floor. "The Tygra I remember would have been harder to bring down."

Panthro released him. As the older Thundercat moved toward the door, he said over his shoulder, "Now try to relax, damn it! The way that you have been acting lately, you would think that Talitha was still here to drive you into a frenzy. Tomorrow, you're going to get some fresh air. Be ready at dawn, architect. It is as good a time as any to check the western quadrant."

Panthro vanished into the corridor. Tygra opened a window. He breathed deeply of the night air, and looked across the darkened plain to the forest and the stars. "But Panthro," he whispered, "my heart dwells in the east."

*****

Talitha rummaged through her trunk in search of the slim notebook that contained her collection of music. This morning she had promised to teach Kamali some Thunderan songs. She did not wish to disappoint the elderly harpist. On a selfish level, the exercise would distract her from the uncomfortable desire that roared throughout her body.

"Damn! I know I brought it!" Several pieces of clothing flew into the air as she finished unpacking her trunk. She jumped up and kicked the offending chest. She tapped her fingers angrily against her arms. Her sight drifted to four hampers. "Extra supplies," had been Lion-o's curt remark as he had placed them along with her trunk in the hold of the Thundertank.

"Do they really believe that I can eat this much food," she snapped. Her stomach rumbled in compliance. "Be quiet!" It repeated its message with more urgency. "Oh very well," she conceded. The hospitality of the warrior women had made opening the boxes unnecessary, but now her curiosity about what the hampers contained increased along with her appetite.

"I pick you," she said to the largest container. She untied its string, then pulled away the fabric wrapping. Upon opening the box, several jars of preserved fruit came into view. "Goddess, snarf food! What I really want is a haunch of meat."

The tigress removed the layer of jars only to find a second one beneath. Tucked in one corner, however, was another smaller box. Ignoring the jars, she removed the sealed carton. A little tag dangled from its lid. It read: For Talitha.

"Of course, it is for me, you silly snarf." She pulled off the lid. A piece of black silk appeared. "A very fancy wrap for preserves," she observed. She peeled back the fine fabric, and gasped when the mysterious object stood revealed. Talitha gingerly lifted the new harp bag from its container. The dark leather was softer than any she had ever felt. The intricate geometric design stitched in gold and silver threads gleamed.

Entranced by its princely beauty, she did not stop to question its appearance in a provisions box. She ran to the far end of the hut with the bag in hand. She reached for the harp that lay upon her cot, then sat on the reed flooring. With care, she untied the lacings on the case. She slid her hand into the wonderfully smooth bag. "What's this?" She withdrew a small square of paper, and read its message:

In only a few suns, you will celebrate your twenty-first birthday. Unfortunately, none of us will be with you on this joyous occasion. Please accept this gift. It is by no means a replacement of your mother's fine handiwork. However, please consider using it so that you may preserve her gift and her memory.

The note was not signed, but the bold script clearly belonged to Tygra. Although he had implicated everyone in the Lair in the gifting, she knew that the case had come from him alone. "Thank you, Tygra," she murmured. "This is indeed beautiful. Although it is not quite my birthday, I will use your gift this very day." She traced the fine lines of the design, and suddenly realized how much she missed the architect.

The sound of her name floated up from the levels below, and broke her melancholy. "Goddess, I forgot--Kamali!" She quickly packed her harp in its new case. She went to the opening cut into the thatched hut. She leaned out the primitive window, and shouted to the black woman two levels down, "Ho, Kamali! I will be ready shortly."

Within minutes, Talitha exited the hut with only her harp in hand. As she ran along the broad ramps, she thought of Tygra. Next time, architect, I can promise that it will be I that will surprise you!

*****

By the time Talitha reached the forest floor, Kamali had vanished. The mystic questioned several maidens, but not one had seen the harpist. She is playing with me for being tardy, the mystic decided, so I shall simply go to the circle and wait. She set herself on the path that led to a rock strewn clearing just beyond the northern edge of the village.

Kamali often went to the site to practice without disturbance from her sisters. The bordering trees afforded some shade, and the flat rocks made an ideal platform for performing. The stones cast about by nature formed a natural circle. Its geometry marked it as a sacred site. Within its dimensions, the warrior women held special gatherings.

The noise from the nearby village muted as Talitha entered the clearing. Alone, she perched on a rock, and unpacked her harp. She placed the fine bag on the dry grass by her feet. She tuned her instrument while she waited for her friend.

A snapping branch betrayed the presence of another within the golden wood. "Who is there! Identify yourself!" Talitha demanded.

"You would make a fine guard. In the wood, it is always wise to be suspicious," a silken voice countered. The tall black woman entered the circle as a queen moving among her court. Kamali glided across the yellowed grass to a stone that all acknowledged as her own. The green-robed woman immediately began to play the lyre that she carried.

Annoyed by the rebuff, Talitha chided, "I shall take heed of your advice, elder. I might add, however, that it was unwise of you to venture beyond the circle unescorted."

"Quite so, young one, but the dark wood seduced me." The smooth reply chilled the mystic more than the faint autumn breeze that made the trees whisper. Kamali's eyes glowed with a madness that mocked the mystic's words. As her gaze locked onto the elder's lyre, Talitha recoiled in horror, for the instrument Kamali cradled was not her own. The face of evil shown in the terrifying carvings cut into its dark wood.

The tigress had no name for the fear that gripped her. "Escape!" the trees implored. Talitha tried to rise, but the haunting music weakened her muscles. Her harp fell from her hands.

Must cry for help! she thought frantically, but ice had captured her voice. Her telepathic gift moved beyond her use, for the weird strains of Kamali's music clouded her mind.

The mystic had become trapped in a nightmare. Kamali's proud features contorted into a hideous mask framed by her serpentine braids. As Talitha watched, the elder transformed into Mumm-Ra.

"Surprised, mystic?" The evil giant continued to play. "The forest weeps for the death of Kamali, but I believe that I have done well in her stead." The blue demon struck a single note that stirred the air about the mystic. "I hope that you have enjoyed our lesson." Another note blanketed her in decaying light. "Now it is time for you to journey to a more interesting place."

Into your keeping, Mrísena, I give myself, the helpless mystic prayed.

The priest laughed, and struck the final chord.

Farewell, Tygra. None heard her silent invocation as she disappeared.

*****

Tygra paced alongside the Thundertank. Although it was still morning, the sun had already climbed too high for his pleasure. "You promised that this additional check would take no more than an hour, Panthro," he muttered. "By my reckoning, your time is about up."

Hoping to see his friend materialize from the deep cover of the trees, Tygra halted and looked west. He drew his bolo-whip, and considered using the communicator in its base to recall the wandering panther. He instantly rejected the idea. The grey cat did not liked to be rushed in his affairs. Tygra, however, did not care for their long absence from the Lair despite the fact that they were still within the signal range of the Sword of Omens. "It would be just like that mummified filth to attack the Lair while we are out," he growled.

The architect kicked several clumps of loose soil. Each day that had passed since Talitha's departure had worsened his mood. His intense longing for her had remained barely hidden from his companions. Yesterday, his yearning had found release in the form of anger.

The kittens had captured a frog. The tiny creature had leapt from the empty cup on the meal tray that they had brought to him in the control room. The frog hopped about the floor until Snarf managed to catch it. The kittens had enjoyed a hearty laugh at his expense, but the scolding that they had received from him had not merited the crime.

"I'll make it up to them, somehow," he pledged. The pensive tiger grabbed a small rock, and tossed it into the narrow stream beyond. As he reached for another stone, his head exploded with pain. Beyond the limits of reason, he knew that his mystic was in jeopardy.

The great trees around him vanished. He found himself on a ledge of ice and snow. Howling winds burned the skin beneath his thick pelt. "Talitha!" he screamed. He shivered with her fear. She was tauntingly near, but did not answer his cry. As quickly as it had overtaken him, the vision ended. The disoriented tiger slumped against the cool metal skin of the tank. He was only vaguely aware of the pulsing insignia on his chest, and the trickle of Thundercat power that steadied him. The mystic's fear battered his soul with each beat of his heart. Her distress pointed like a powerful beacon to the broken spires beyond Hook Mountain.

"Tygra! Copy, Tygra! Damn it, Tygra!" Panthro's bass voice crackled over the communicator in his whip, but Tygra did not respond. Two entities warred for control of his body. The rational architect calmly directed him to answer the panther, and wait for assistance; the warrior within urged him not to delay, but to go swiftly to the mountains to save his mate. The dazed cat acknowledged the wisdom of the architect, but to his surprise, the halting words that he finally uttered to the panther belonged to the warrior. "I-I'm sorry...Panthro," he slurred. "There is no time...Talitha needs me." His decision made, Tygra cut communications with the panther over the objections of his analytical self. The tiger surrendered to the warrior, and drew the strength that he needed to clear his mind. Restored, Tygra vaulted into the Thundertank.

"Gods damn you, Tygra! Wait!" Panthro cursed over the tank radio. Tygra terminated the additional link to his friend, and activated the vehicle. Without knowing how he would scale the mountains that lay ahead, he set a course to the north.

He drove the tank with reckless speed. A ball of light suddenly flared in his path. He instinctively threw his hands across his eyes. The tiger lost control of the tank, and careened into a tree. The force of the collision splintered the trunk. Sharp branches rained down on the architect. Driven by the mysterious connection to the mystic, Tygra swiftly recovered from the impact, and threw off the fallen limbs. Whip in hand, he leapt from the tank to meet his attacker.

"What have you done to her!" he shrieked to the cloaked priest that blocked his way and towered above him.

Mumm-Ra brought his right arm forward, and tossed the mystic's harp case to the ground. The instrument within emitted a spray of discordant music that tore the tiger's soul.

Despite his anguish, Tygra wrapped the bolo-whip around himself to create a shield of invisibility, but his action came too late. The monster revealed the lyre that he held in his left hand, and began to play.

The music wove the air about the Thundercat into a paralyzing net. Although the cord of the whip unraveled under the spell's influence, the immobilized tiger kept a desperate grip on the handle. "No!" he gasped. "I must fight!"

The mummy's voice carried the ice of his vision. "Oh yes, architect. I will cool the fire that consumes you. Listen to the music of your death." The malefic harmony shrouded him, and became the screaming winds.

*****

The mystic huddled against the only wall of rock on the frozen ledge that was free of ice. The recessed pocket boasted dry ground, and blocked the relentless assault of the wind and the snow; the sanctuary could not, however, keep at bay the frigid air.

The mystic's attempts at telepathic communication had been futile. With no material to start a fire, and no pathway down from the shelf, Talitha knew that she would eventually succumb to the bitter cold despite her ability to postpone her fate with healing.

Harp music suddenly challenged the wind. Talitha sprang to her feet. She hunted frantically for rocks to throw at the demon priest who had banished her. With stones in hand, she cautiously peered around the protective outcropping. Although the visibility was poor, there was no mistaking the orange figure clothed in blue who stood on the ledge opposite her own.

"Tygra!" Dropping the projectiles, the mystic bolted from the hollow.

"Talitha!" The architect sprinted in her direction.

"Stop!" she shrieked. The Thundercat skidded to a halt inches from the chasm that separated the two platforms of rock.

Tygra quickly scanned her perch. "Talitha, the distance is too extreme for me to leap; however, I can anchor my whip in the broken ice. Stand at a place where I can secure my whip on your side. I can see the blue of your gown fairly well.

"Tygra, if you try to traverse the cable of your whip, you will be blown into the abyss. The wind is too strong. Please, don't try this!" she pleaded.

"Mystic, there is no other way off of this ledge, and no shelter. I am coming to you, one way or another. Now, where can I hook my whip?"

Despite their fur and clothing, neither could survive direct exposure to the elements for long. If they were to survive until help arrived, the tiger would have to chance the gap.

The tigress searched her ledge for a suitable anchor point. Ice had formed a smooth sheath around a column of rock. She retrieved one of the stones that she had dropped. She chipped away at the boulder until she created a deep grove in the ice cover. When she had finished, she called out to the architect, "Tygra, cast your whip about me. I will then lash the cord to the stone I have carved."

The air whistled. The mystic quieted a cry as the cord of the bolo-whip encircled her waist and the three metal spheres at the end of the line bruised her body.

"Talitha, are you all right? The line has gone taut in my hand."

The mystic slipped free of the tiger's cable, and secured it to the stone. "It is ready, Tygra. Anchor the handle."

A moment later, the architect shouted, "Done Talitha! I'm coming across."

"Goddess, be careful, Tygra, please!" Through the swirling snow, she watched the tiger slowly negotiate the makeshift tightrope. As he reached the midpoint of his walk, the wind intensified, and he fell. "Tygra!" The mystic ran toward the edge of the precipice.

"I'm fine, Talitha," he shouted, "no thanks to the gods be damned hurricane." The tiger dangled from the strong line. He crossed the remaining distance hand over hand until he almost touched the sheer rock wall.

The architect used one hand to reach for the mystic. Freeing himself of the line, the tiger used his other hand to grapple the shelf. With Talitha's help, he lifted himself up and over the slippery lip of ice. His momentum and his greater weight knocked the small tigress off her feet. The large cat stretched across her body. The heavy breaths of his exertion warmed the fur along her neck. Her strained muscles protested from her efforts to help the tiger.

The air cracked with the sound of splitting ice. The handle of the magical whip whisked past the two prone tigers as the weapon retracted itself. It struck the frozen post of rock with the pitch of shattering glass.

Tygra rolled off the mystic, and onto his back. Talitha knew that they both needed to move out of the damaging wind despite the tiger's fatigue. "I understand that you are tired, but we must reach shelter, Tygra." She assisted the big cat to his feet. Stopping only to gather the bolo-whip, they stumbled through the snow to the alcove.

The mystic moved into the shelter, and knelt on the dry ground. Tygra sat opposite her. The strong wind ruffled the white border of his orange mane. If I don't pull him closer to me, she decided, the wind will freeze him. The mystic reached for his arm, but he turned away, and spat a curse. The cramped space had quickly filled with her scent. The mystic suddenly realized that her condition had caused his harsh reaction. Her sympathy for his plight only served to stir her own arousal.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. A gust of wind made the tiger shiver. His wet mane glistened with ice crystals.

Talitha set aside her feelings, and spoke plainly to her companion. "Tygra, I know how...uneasy... my presence makes you, but please come closer to me. I do not wish to see you die for the sake of chivalry. Our best chance for survival rests in our combined body heat.

The tigress tried to lure the architect forward once more, but the tiger resisted. Exasperated with his reluctance, she cried, "Your stubborn pride has no place here!"

He held her gaze. "Your right," he admitted quietly as he accepted her words in spite of his discomfort. The timbre of his voice grew stronger as he committed himself to the proper course of action. "Get closer to the wall. I will shield you."

"But you will still be more exposed than I. Why should you suffer so?"

"In all the time that we have been together, have you not noticed the cream color of the fur of my hands and feet? I am patterned like a northerner, and I have the thick pelt of that race of tigers. This gift from my great-grandmother will allow me to withstand the cold far better than you, white one."

He wrapped himself around her as she flattened herself against the wall. The tiger pressed close to her back. The mystic flinched. Her physical yearning for him soared with the recognition of his arousal. Tygra leaned over her shoulder, and gently brushed the side of her face with his own. "Please do not fear, little one," be murmured. "You are in no danger from me. My...condition...is at best an annoyance, and no more. I--I--" His growl reflected his displeasure with his faltering words. His rich baritone deepened as he forced himself to continue. "The Goddess will preserve us, and the other Thundercats will find us. I will only ask for your healing if I weaken from the cold, and threaten our survival. Now let us both try to rest so that we may conserve our strength, He positioned his head on her crown, and became silent.

His large body made a furry cocoon that kept her warm and safe. His musky scent enhanced the comforting presence that he provided. Despite the desperation of their circumstance, his confident words had given the mystic an irrational reason to hope.

*****

Tygra fought to stay awake. The harsh wind had changed direction, and had blown steadily into the sheltering depression. His back had become numb from the exposure. The temptation to drift into a deadly sleep had been difficult to resist. Only the occasional movement from Talitha had kept him from dozing. But how much longer can I last? he wondered. Will help ever arrive? A blast of frigid air sent shivers throughout his body. Will I need Talitha's healing to endure?

"Tygra?" The mystic's soft voice broke his thoughts.

"Ssh, Talitha. Rest." Damn Seti to the seven hells for this! The danger of sleep retreated from the warmth of his anger. The tiger rubbed his face in the mystic's mane, and disarrayed the brown stripes that streaked through it. How his heart had pounded with joy when he had found her alive! How he wished now that he could summon the courage to tell her of his love. Far easier it had been to cross the chasm, he mused, than to utter the simple truth. And yet, why should he distress her? Her transition to adulthood had been made unpleasant enough without his lovesick declarations. Her hesitant response to his closeness indicated that she did not reciprocate the depth of feeling that he felt for her, but truly, what could he expect from someone so much younger than he.

The tiger muffled a sigh in her mane. The fierce desire that had plagued him had settled into a steady flame that no longer distracted him, but instead drove his determination to survive. If we live, he hoped, she may one day accept me.

The wind at his back lessened, indicating another change of direction. Jaga be praised, finally some relief! The Thundercat took a deep breath to ease the tension that he felt. A layer of calm descended upon him, but the pleasant feeling vanished immediately with the shrill sound that split the air and echoed off the peaks.

"Tygra, can it be Mumm-Ra?" the mystic whispered fearfully.

Goddess help us, not him, please! He said softly, "Stay here, Talitha. Keep still." The tiger moved slowly to his cold feet. The position that he had taken and the weather had stiffened every muscle. His fingers ached as he grabbed the bolo-whip. The recess provided no room to activate the weapon. Only in the open would he possess the maneuverability necessary to work its magic. He might lose the advantage of surprise, but at least he could keep the demon away from Talitha.

"Be careful, Tygra."

He glanced down at the mystic. Her concerned words brought a smile to his face. He gave her a knowing wink: then leapt quietly from the sanctuary into the snow field beyond.

The Thundercat raised the whip above his head to activate the magic keyed to him, but never completed the movement. Lord Lion-o, and the good priestess Meryt stood but a few feet ahead of him in the grey haze of wind-tossed snow. They looked to the ledge where he had first appeared. The jewel in Lion-o's sword suddenly sang, and made both turn to his direction. Tygra lowered his weapon. Not even a sorcerer of Mumm-Ra's caliber could create a deception this masterful.

The tawny lion bounded across the snow. "Tygra! Are you all right? Where is White? We feared the worst!"

The tiger listened quietly to the stream of words that poured from his young lord. The last of his strength failed, and he fell forward into Lion-o's arms. "Talitha...in the little cave...there," he mumbled. Tygra shivered violently as he struggled to stay conscious.

The tall priestess strode past him and into the alcove. She emerged with the mystic, who clung weakly to the straps of her armor. The priestess passed the mystic to Lion-o, who now supported a tiger in each arm. Meryt lifted her blue arm skyward, and chanted in her ancient tongue. A veil of light encircled the party.

"Goddess be blessed and praised," Tygra sighed as the ice and snow melted into gold.

*****

The architect warmed his hands by the fire that Lord Lion-o had hastily built. Looking west, he could barely discern the tall lion who searched the line of trees for more firewood.

Meryt had teleported their small band to a location north and west of the Lair. Although she still wore her more potent aspect, and not her mummy form, the priestess had exhausted most of her magic in their rescue from the mountains. She had not the power to safely carry them directly home. Fortunately they had settled not too far from the last given position of Panthro and the abandoned Thundertank. Upon their arrival, Tygra had called the grey cat by means of his bolo-whip. Taking a deep breath of the clean, dry air, the architect hoped to soon see the rise of dust that heralded the approach of a ride home.

He turned his attention to the east. A small measure beyond, Meryt sat by another fire. The sleeping mystic curled next to the priestess. Meryt had wrapped her long cloak about Talitha. The dark fabric neatly framed the mystic's delicate face, which was the only portion of her body that was visible.

As the effects of the cold had subsided, Talitha's fertility had renewed its assault upon his senses with vigor. The establishment of two separate fires had eased their mutual anxiety by placing a comfortable distance between them. No need to be uneasy until we must, Tygra thought. The journey back to the Lair in the Thundertank will be stressful enough for Panthro and me. He studied her peaceful expression once more, and pledged, In light of this attack, I must convince the others to allow Talitha to remain at the Lair. Panthro and I will simply have to be tolerant of each other, and the situation.

Tygra lay back on the grass. The wispy clouds above floated serenely against the vault of the sky. The pleasant weather made a sharp contrast to the unending storm that pounded the isolated mountains. The Thundercat flexed his fingers to release the stiffness that the cold had imposed. As he relaxed, he reviewed what he had learned from Lion-o of their rescue.

When he had experienced the mystic's fear, the Sword of Omens had signaled his distress to Lion-o, but had not shown the young leader his strange vision of the bleak peaks. In addition, the sword had not indicated the mystic's peril, for its magic had not been keyed to her. The lion immediately used the weapon to call the Thundercats near the fortress. Within minutes, the sword had roared a second time, and had shown to the lion Mumm-Ra's direct attack upon him at the Thundertank. After Snarf, Cheetara, and the kittens had gathered with Lion-o, Panthro had contacted the lion through his nunchaku. The older warrior had briefed the assembly on what little he could piece together at the time.

As the Thundercats debated on what action to take, Meryt had materialized before them. She informed Lion-o of Mumm-Ra's treachery, which she had viewed in her cauldron. She then proceeded to offer the only solution to the evil priest's attack.

Meryt spoke of the range of mountains to the north that the destructive forces of magic had raised many seasons past. Most of the region suffered from an eternal form of winter that began at Hook Mountain; however, besides the weather magic, a spell that shielded the land from far-seeing also cursed a section of the most remote peaks. The magical shell blocked the majority of psionic or magical summonings trying to enter or leave the range. Only those individuals versed in the highest orders of magic or mind-power could by-pass the disruptive veil.

To test her words, Lion-o asked the sword to show him the stranded tigers, but the Eye of Thundera had remained dark. The priestess gently informed him that the tigers were beyond the range of the sword, and its failure to detect them was not a valid assessment of its ability to breech the mountain magic.

That said, the priestess then swiftly outlined her plan. Only Lion-o would travel with her to the deadly peaks, for she had not the power to transport all the Thundercats present. For his part, Panthro would locate the Thundertank and remain with the vehicle until informed that they had completed the rescue.

The tiger was glad that the plan had worked. Footfalls broke his peaceful reverie. He sat up and greeted Lion-o. "I hope that you did not strip the forest on my account, my lord."

The lion flung a twig at the older Thundercat, then tended the fire. As he worked, he said, "Tygra, do you think that Mumm-Ra will use that lyre against us in the future?"

The tiger answered the pensive youth truthfully. "If it is in his power to do so, Lion-o, he will. It is a very dangerous weapon, but perhaps it has a weakness that we know nothing about. I am sure that Meryt will be able to tell us more when she has had the time to search her vast library." The lion nodded, and seemed comforted by his counsel.

The rustle of fabric against the dry grass carried the architect's attention to the other fire. Talitha had awakened. She spoke with Meryt in hushed tones. A measure of peace settled upon him, for now he truly believed that the tigress had recovered fully from her ordeal.

A stretch suddenly seemed to him a good idea. The tiger rose, and reached toward the sky even though his weakened muscles protested. When he finished, he placed his hands on his hips, and looked south. He tilted his head slightly to catch the rough sound at the edge of his acute hearing. Once he had identified the characteristic rumble of the Thundertank, he said to Lion-o, "Panthro comes. I will call the others." Before he could shout, the air above him exploded with a deafening intensity that left the tiger holding his ears in pain.

*Tygra!* The mental summons sliced through his hurt. He looked across the field, and to his horror, discovered that Mumm-Ra floated above the two females. Drawing his whip as he ran, the tiger lunged toward mystic and priestess. Behind him, the Sword of Omens roared its challenge.

The mad priest struck with the lightning silence of a cobra. A blinding ball of fire shot forth from the mummy's hands even as Meryt tried to cast a spell. The fiery brilliance engulfed the females.

*Tygra-a-a!* The mystic's cry split the Thundercat's heart. Clutching his chest, he fell forward. He felt her passing in the breaking of his soul. Lion-o's battle cry cut through the dull haze of his pain. A shriek from Mumm-Ra told the helpless tiger that his lord had hit his target although too late.

The beating of his heart and his labored breaths replaced the sounds of battle. Somewhere close, the Thundertank screeched to a halt. A beetle crossed his field of vision unaware of the mass of orange and black fur that lay before it in the long grass. Scattered voices drew close. A pair of strong grey arms turned him onto his back. Lion-o and Panthro loomed above him as lofty gods.

The panther peered closely at his face. "Shock," he muttered to Lion-o. "Better lay some blankets in the tank bay. It will be a rough journey for him." The lion faded from view. The panther looked to the place where the mystic had died.

"What about the fires, Panthro? Can't have the plain ignite," Tygra heard himself whisper in a bewildered voice.

The equally astonished panther gasped, "Damn tough, these tigers, and bossy too!"

"Are there any remains?"

Panthro coolly appraised him. He glanced down at the nunchaku he held. "There is nothing but blackened earth, Tygra."

Without any physical evidence, how could he ever be sure that Talitha had existed. I need to check for myself, Tygra decided. He pushed himself to his feet.

"Damn crazy tiger! What in the seven hells are you doing!"

Panthro was right. Wounded earth, and no more. Goddess, why am I so calm? "Let's go home, Panthro," he whispered. "Help me to the tank." The panther muttered several curses. "And I am sitting in the front with you."

The grey warrior walked him to the tank without further complaint. Lion-o's mouth dropped open in surprise as they approached. Tygra noticed the short nod given by Panthro to Lion-o. The older Thundercat clearly did not approve of his actions.

Tygra searched the face of his young lord. The golden eyes had not yet registered the shocking truth of what they had witnessed. Panthro's concern was best reserved for his king, he thought firmly.

Opening the tank door, Tygra collapsed onto the front seat. The muscles in his chest tightened. He had to know. "Mumm-Ra?" he asked Panthro.

His friend sat next to him. "Well he is everliving, Tygra." The panther turned on the ignition, and the tank lumbered forward. He steered toward the east, and the promise of another dawn.

*****

Alone in the darkened room, the tiger knelt by a small bed. He grasped the linen covering, and drew it to his face. Talitha's scent still lingered on the fine cloth. Tygra rested his head on his arm. He pulled a long hair from the fabric, the only mocking remnant of the mystic's reality. His gaze drifted to the harp hidden in shadow. The instrument that Panthro had recovered held its music for a mistress who would never return.

The gentle hiss of the opening door stirred the silence. Carefully measured steps, he thought, and the brush of a robe against the stone. Despite his keen sight, the female who entered the room seemed little more than a movement in the dark, for the corridor from which she had emerged carried no light. Cheetara knelt beside him. Only she had known to search for him where once his heart had dwelt.

"You damn fool! You should be sleeping in your own bed. Do you have any idea how late the hour is? The day has long flown, Tygra. Sleep to a new dawn, and a new beginning."

Poor Cheetara, she did not yet understand that despite the food that she tried to stuff into him, the sleep that she demanded of him, or her valiant attempts at comfort, he would never heal. When his mystic had died, she took with her the dawn and beginnings. Without the benefit of her teaching, the part of him that yearned to heal might instead destroy him.

Cheetara ran her hand along his mane. He shuddered with an exquisite agony that followed her touch. "I'm sorry, Tygra," she said softly. "I should have not spoken to you in anger."

She slid her hand to his chin, and tilted his head. What did she hope to see in the darkness, he wondered.

She withdrew her hand slowly as she spoke. "Panthro said to wait until tomorrow, but you might as well know. Although Lion-o had refused your request, he changed his mind. While you rested, he and Panthro journeyed to Meryt's pyramid."

As his shock had dissipated, he had wondered if some slim hope had remained for the survival of priestess and mystic. The blazing light of the fireball had obscured all trapped within its sphere. Perhaps Meryt's magic had miraculously protected them. On the basis of this possibility, Lion-o had called upon the far-seeing powers of the Sword of Omens once they had returned to the Lair. He asked for a vision of Meryt and Talitha, but the Eye had shown only blackness. Unconvinced of the sword's answer, he had pleaded with his lord to search the silver pyramid directly as the weapon was not infallible. He now wished that his lord had held onto his initial refusal, and had spared him the pain of what he rationally knew to be true.

"The pyramid no longer glows with the silver light of her goodness, Tygra. It is now only a collection of stone which carries no sign of the great being who once lived within its walls.

"When Lion-o asked for a vision of its interior and its occupants, the sword showed only darkness." She continued with hesitation, as if unwilling to reveal what else she knew. "The women of the forest will return Talitha's possessions tomorrow, Tygra...prepare yourself."

Although his feelings remained unspoken, he thought warmly, What courage it has taken for you to come to me swift one! Cheetara leaned forward, and brushed her delicate lips against his own. His weak moan did not adequately reflect the pain that she had unknowingly caused.

She lingered close to his face. "Listen to the unfulfilled needs of your body, Tygra, and give yourself up to its cry for life."

What she had wanted of him had become impossible. His voice broke without the promise of the tears that he desired. "I--I--can--not." She shook her head sadly, and turned to leave. "Please...stay." The quiet words rose from his heart and the trust born of their long friendship.

The cheetah pulled him down to the cool stone floor, then settled against his reclining body. His acceptance of her companionship had lessened some of his pain. She tugged the fold of his robe, and chided gently, "You have yet to learn, tiger, that you need not travel the road alone. Now promise me that you will try to sleep."

He squeezed her hand lightly, for the power of speech had deserted him.

The weary tiger closed his eyes. He prayed for the dreamless sleep that would make him forget that he walked without a soul.