Descent into the Silence

"Jezrane!" That blasted warm-blood will come only after I have bled to death! A strip of coarse linen absorbed the blood which oozed from the jagged cut in the mutant's palm. "Worthless jackal!" Slythe screeched. He applied more pressure to the bandage. Stupid reptile, he thought bitterly, you know better than to squeeze glass! But it is not your fault, no. Miserable Thundercats! The fault lies with them.

A long brown snout poked gingerly from behind the partially opened door. "What is it, Slythe?"

"Wretch! Get me a proper bandage, yes-s-s!" The scaled mutant threw a goblet at the jackalian.

"No need to break all the wine glasses, Slythe," Jezrane cackled as he deftly sidestepped the missile. In his retreat, he slammed the large wooden door to the dank chamber.

"And he'll take his precious-s-s time, yes-s-s." Slythe settled his bulk onto a massive chair that had been carved from a tree trunk. The cold rains had placed him in a murderous mood. A badly polished mirror, which hung on the stone wall, reflected his image in the dim light. The flat broad face that looked back had grown old. The once sharp row of spiked scales that sprang from his head and back had dulled. Rising fluidly from his throne despite his enormous size, the reptile hurtled a plate at the distorted image that mocked him. The shards of glass multiplied the debris that had accumulated upon the floor from a previous outburst. "No one mocks Slythe!"

The mirrored slivers disputed his claim. Thundercats, mock you, yes, Thundercats do. You have wasted your life in the hunt. Thundercats have stayed young and strong, and they laugh at your weakness, old one.

Slythe crumpled back onto his chair. The timbers groaned under the weight of his powerful form. His long tail lashed the legs of the table as the insidious pain in his gut renewed its attack. Dying with no hope of glory; my glories in the past. He screamed his rage and despair into the agonizing wave until his suffering crested and resolved. The broken armrest attested to the strength still present in his claws.

His shattered image taunted him. He struck the table and dislodged a fragment of wood, which sailed across the room. "One last act of destruction, great Zhis-s-s, that is all I ask! No more defeats. My life, my master, for one final blow against my enemies-s-s."

He rested his head on the crude table, and listened to the howling winds. He prayed for death. The cool hiss of the rain on Mutant metal provided him no comfort.

*****

Check the council room, then I can go and get some sleep, the panther decided as he finished his night rounds. Entering the chamber, he found it occupied. The dim, bluish light from a lone wall-lamp highlighted the tall, lean form that belonged to Cheetara. The female had not responded to his arrival, but instead watched the streaks of lightning that appeared through the tall arched windows in random bursts of brilliance.

For Jaga's sake, why's she here? Panthro wondered. She should have gone to bed. Strange...; best talk to her, I guess.

"Taking on my work too, cheetah?" he teased. The gentle flutter of her long mane proved to be her only answer to his question. Damn. What is troubling her? Approaching the cheetah, he asked softly, "Care to talk about it?"

"It's the weather that has made me restless."

"And...."

"Uneasy."

Gods be damned, I don't want to hear this now, mere suns before the tigers' cub comes into this life. The exhausted panther settled onto his chair beside the council table. "Cheetara, I want you to be honest with me. Have you had a premonition of danger?" he asked reluctantly.

Cheetara's expression shifted from bewilderment to horror as she understood the fear that he had voiced. She said with desperation, "Gods, no, Panthro! That has not occurred. Please, don't suggest this possibility to Tygra. He'll tighten his chains on White." She ran her fingers through her yellow mane. "The truth is that I have felt this way for some time now. Many nights I have found myself alone in this chamber with only the ghosts of the past for company."

Char'ran, the panther remembered sadly. But his death had been so long ago; assisted by Tygra's healing love, she had resolved her grief. Could something else be at the root of her melancholy? "Cheetara," he asked cautiously, "could it be happening to you finally after all these seasons?"

"My calling to fertility? No, Panthro, I don't feel the same as I did when in my cycle."

"You could be wrong. After all, you have only experienced it once."

"You are a male, Panthro, you can't know what a female knows instinctively about fertility." She continued rationalizing in a cool manner that was at odds with her passionate nature. "My problem is due to the persistent rainfall we have had. One gloomy day passes into another. I yearn for the sunlight, and the end of this murky veil over the sky."

It doesn't ring true, Cheetara, he thought. You need to be honest with yourself. "What you desire is what White and Tygra possess, and what you lost when Char'ran died."

Anger flashed briefly in her golden eyes. "Yes," she admitted bitterly when forced to acknowledge the truth.

Damn your insensitivity, Panthro! What in the seven hells made you tell her that. He rose from his chair, and spread his arms wide. "Come swift one. There is no need to bear this alone." She took refuge in his embrace. Her warm tears wet the fine work-tunic that the mystic had made for him.

Her pain passed quickly, but she stayed close. "Feel any better?" he asked.

"Yes...thank you, Panthro."

How to cheer her, he wondered. "Think you might want to go a few rounds with me with the practice staves tomorrow? You are the second best warrior in the Lair."

"And are you the first?" she asked playfully. Her smile removed some of the strain shadowing her beauty.

"No, Tygra is, but he's too busy nesting."

"Then you had better prepare yourself, panther, for tomorrow I shall be without mercy."

"Of you I would expect no less." He added warmly, "But take some advice from this old warrior: try to get some rest."

"Yes, teacher," she murmured.

"Impudent cub," he mumbled.

"Let me show you how impudent, panther." She reached over to the control panel, and engaged the locks on the door.

"Now, Cheetara...."

She arranged herself on the large round table in a pose that left no doubt as to what she desired from him. "This time you go too far, swift one!"

"Dear teacher," she purred, "who will see?"

He could neither refute her logic nor his feelings. He slid next to her. She fiddled with the lacings on his trousers. "Impudent cub," he sighed as he pulled back the straps of her leotard.

*****

Tygra watched the violent storm from his chamber. The snaking lightning provided the only diversion from his restless brooding.

He trained his sight on the white tigress asleep on his bed. During the night, the blanket that had covered her had fallen to the floor. The sweeping curves of her heavily pregnant form stirred a desire in him that he would not allow himself to satisfy.

It is your own fault for insisting on abstinence during the remaining days of her confinement, a voice within himself reprimanded.

Tygra answered his conscience firmly. It is unwise to take unnecessary risks for the sake of a few moments of pleasure.

Ah, but what pleasure!

This is not a battle that I am going to win, the tiger concluded glumly. He crossed to the mirror hidden in one corner of the room. Even in the subdued light that he had called to his chamber, he could discern the unmasculine swell of his breasts. He patted the hard fat that had accumulated around his abdomen despite his diligent efforts to stay conditioned and to adhere to a proper diet. His erect penis, the one unfailing sign of his maleness, appeared ludicrous on his female-shaped body. Fat and amorous, he decided. I suppose that sums me up nicely. He retrieved a cushion from the floor, and tossed it at his bloated image.

The tiger covered his mate with the blanket that had slipped off her body. As he stepped away, he reached for the black robe draped across the bed-frame. He donned the garment before sitting upon an ugly wooden chair.

Tygra followed the movement of the raindrops that streaked the windows like tears. Talitha's tears, he thought, and I am to blame. Despite his efforts to cheer her, the mystic had descended into depression. Only his restraint had stopped her attack upon the mirror which reflected her vulnerable state.

How you cried, dear one. Each tear that you shed stabbed my heart as well as any Mutant dagger, he thought sadly. The tiger tapped the armrest of the chair nervously. How I wish that I could help you to find peace, Talitha. If I only I could get you to see the beauty of your fullness.

Her burgeoning shape had not presented the only obstruction to their happiness. Increasing fatigue had made it difficult for Talitha to draw upon her healing gift, and had fueled her feelings of inadequacy and humiliation. By mystic means, they had both easily detected the sex of their cub early in her pregnancy, but only he had developed a special connection with their unborn daughter. After every routine scan, he had seen the hurt and jealousy in Talitha's eyes.

My daughter, a white blossom shielded in blue light. A tigress with the potential to flower into a great healer, Tygra thought somberly. How have I gained knowledge that I should not possess? Why can I visualize you so clearly in my mind against all normal functioning of mystic power? If only I could make you experience her as I do, Talitha, your pain would be lessened. To have watched her develop and grow has been a wonderment that I will never forget.

The rain called his name as it battered the windows. "You are right," he admitted softly to the storm, "I have given her pain." How she hated to have her figure tightly bound. As her condition had become more apparent, he could think of no other way to conceal her state from their enemies. He had restricted her to the Lair to ensure her safety, and had freed her from the fortress only when a call for healing had come from the world beyond the Lair.

Cheetara's words echoed in his mind. "You cannot keep her under glass like some specimen, Tygra. You suffocate White with the excuse of your love and fan her unhappiness. Let her body breath as nature intended."

A strong gust blew open one of the windows. Muttering a curse, the tiger quickly secured the pane. Shaking off the droplets, Tygra realized that his thoughts danced in the same frustrating circle. I am not accomplishing anything here, he decided. Maybe Lion-o can use a helper on the night watch.

Before leaving, he whispered softly to his mate, "Dearest Talitha. I have a surprise planned for you that I hope will make you feel better. And I promise, I will no longer keep you a prisoner in this Lair. Cheetara was correct. It is time to braid our manes with red and joy in our creation."

*****

The spitted meat sizzled. Slythe placidly watched the Balkin flesh char. His share of the kill had left him satisfied. What remained of the ram was a suitable sacrifice to mighty Zhiss. Alone in his woodland camp, the enormous reptile stretched toward the east. The morning light glinted off of his iridescent scales.

If only I could live to summer, he thought. To bask in the burning warmth of the sun just once more. But such is not the fate that Zhiss has decreed.

Almighty Zhiss. At the height of the torrential rains, the fierce one, a mass of teeth and scales, had invaded his troubled dreams. The supreme symbol of Reptilian warriorship had delivered his final command.

"S-s-s-peak to the undead priest. To him who also s-s-serves me, I am known as S-s-set. If you listen to his counsel, you will gain your wish and my favor."

The reptile clawed the ground in distaste. Mumm-Ra. According to his god, the evil priest still existed. Why the mummy had hid these many turnings past was a mystery that no one had solved. The Mutants had become the sole purveyors of terror during his absence. As always though, the Thunderans had skillfully negated their attacks.

To have to ask Mumm-Ra for assistance-- A shudder ran through the dying mutant. This was truly the punishment of Zhiss for the Reptilian failure to completely eradicate the Thundercats. And yet, if he succeeded in his mission, his death, an additional sacrifice that he planned to offer, would earn him a place by the throne of Zhiss. Temporary mortification seemed a small price to pay for the opportunity to erase the greatest of all Reptilian misjudgments: the alignment of their forces with the inferior Mutant races.

Yes, the destruction of the last mammalian and avian Mutants who had journeyed with him to Third Earth in search of the Thunderan survivors--a definite benefit of his death to be sure. After his passing, the reptiles from his command would fight for leadership, and in the ensuing conflict they would kill the weaker Mutants.

Slythe marked the rising coil of black smoke that devoured the last bit of Balkin flesh in the fire pit. He had been away from his stronghold for too many hours. The war for succession need not begin before his death.

"Ye-s-s-s, Mumm-Ra, we will meet one last time," Slythe hissed, "but I s-s-shall don my finest armor and carry the s-s-sacred daggers of my office. You will learn respect for the Prince of the Reptilian clans."

*****

Walking quietly with Cheetara toward the control room, Talitha stroked the top of her sizable abdomen. I am as large as a Thundertank, she decided. And yet, today I feel at peace despite my deformity. Have I finally accepted my state and the limitations it has imposed? That is hard to believe after my tantrum last night. Poor Tygra.

The cub within her womb stirred. The tigress halted and tracked the movement with her hand. Goddess, how strange this still feels.

"Are you well?"

Talitha faced the concerned cheetah. "This cub has danced all morning," she quipped.

"You still carry high."

"Yes, but soon the little one will move into a better position for birth. This flurry of activity is just a prelude of what is to come."

The cheetah regarded her carefully as if she had sensed the subtle change in her attitude. "Why the good mood?" she finally asked.

"Oh, probably the weather," Talitha replied lamely. "A clear blue sky and warm breezes that promise the arrival of the spring would lighten anyone's heart."

"Well I just hope that this change in you lasts. Everyone in this Lair has been excited about this birth but you," the cheetah accused.

The older female had spoken the truth, but the condemnation hurt. It's not as if I haven't tried to be more understanding of my state, Talitha thought angrily. The Goddess showed to me how the displeasure that I have expressed affects my cub. Cheetara doesn't realize how much I have suffered knowing that I have failed to do my best for my unborn daughter. Talitha said harshly, "That is not entirely true or fair!"

The cheetah said quickly, "Forgive me for being judgmental. I suppose that Tygra's protectiveness has not made your burden any easier to bear."

Despite my excuses, I am still wrong, the mollified mystic decided. "You were right in your initial assessment, Cheetara," she admitted. "I am vain. I detest being shaped like a boulder. Pregnancy is uncomfortable, humiliating--"

"Can't you see beyond the inconveniences," the cheetah begged.

"Most days...no."

"Talitha you are hopeless! You are so self-involved that you have no notion of how your beautifully full contours are affecting Panthro as well as Tygra. At least you have something of--never mind! Take these to Panthro yourself!" The furious cheetah threw the collection of printouts that she held at the mystic, then stormed down the long corridor.

"Cheetara, please wait," the mystic pleaded, but the Thundercat had disappeared down a connecting passage. Talitha looked down the empty hallway. What in the seven hells has made Cheetara so angry, she wondered, and what has she left unsaid.

*****

"Panthro, here are the reports for--" A loud snore from Tygra, who slept at his place by the console, interrupted her announcement. It is not unusual for Tygra to rise before dawn, but I wonder just how long he has been here, Talitha thought.

She regarded the panther, who briefly glanced up from his work at the monitors. He returned her inquiring look with a frown that declared: you, of all people, should know why he doesn't rest in his own chamber.

Damn, I'm not going to be judged twice in one day before the sun reaches its zenith! If Panthro wants these reports, he is going to have apologize to me first. The determined mystic crossed the room to a chair by the computer terminal. The panther watched her with indifference as she struggled to lower her bulk onto the narrow seat. I shall be as stone, she decided, until justice is done.

Talitha glared unrelentingly at the panther, who continued to ignore her presence. As the seconds passed into minutes, strong words embroidered the speech of rebuke that formed in her mind. A series of snorts and confused mumbles from Tygra finally broke her concentration, her steely composure and her stalemate with the panther.

The broadly built Thundercat approached her, and said softly, "You win mystic. I was wrong to blame you for Tygra's actions without first hearing you out."

"Thanks, Panthro, but in truth, I am not entirely blameless," she conceded. "I made last night difficult for him." She fingered a lock of her mane, and added sadly, "If only I could make you and Cheetara understand how physically hard it has been for me, maybe you would be more patient with my weakness. It's not easy being the shortest adult in the Lair, and having an extra thirty pounds grafted to your middle."

"With all your attention to proper diet and exercise, you're probably the fittest among us. At least your extra weight is all cub. Tygra can't make that claim."

"Panthro, how long has he been here?"

"Didn't ask, but he was here when I took over from Lion-o about an hour ago. Tygra told me about last night. White, he worries so much about you."

"That's the third time in as many suns, Panthro. These nocturnal jaunts of his have got to stop. I'm going to have to work harder at controlling my moods."

"It's not all your fault, White. Tygra is as stubborn as they come, but even he finally succumbed to a lack of sleep. He's one tired Thundercat."

"We are both tired, Panthro, tired of waiting for this cub. Only 30 suns left to go, and yet its seems like an eternity to me. And I can tell you this: once this cub has been born, my first action will be to run from this gilded prison, and enjoy my regained freedom."

Discontent rippled across the panther's face. Panthro said sharply, "Mystic, has Tygra ever spoken to you in detail of his life at the palace of Claudus?"

"No, he is as reticent about that time as either you or Cheetara," she retaliated. "Since I have been among you, I've come to know little of palace life. Lion-o hardly remembers anything of his past because of the selective amnesia that resulted from his sleep in his suspension capsule. In addition, I also have assumed that the kittens have been equally pledged to this conspiracy of secrecy. Traveling mystics have informed me of the life of the nobility to a greater degree than any of you."

"Then let me 'inform' you about the Mutants and their teleport beam," Panthro snarled.

"Isn't it a little too early in the day for a lesson in ancient Thunderan history, Panthro," Tygra growled menacingly. The cutting remark only enhanced the fierce glitter in the architect's eyes.

Gods of Thundera, now what have I stepped into, Talitha thought. I know only what I badgered Tir'shan into telling me of that terrible invention, and he swore me to secrecy.

The panther moved toward the architect. He pointed his finger at the younger male. "Tell me, White, is he always this nasty of temper when he awakens."

Again, a conspiracy of silence, the mystic decided. I will learn no more for now. Will these nobles ever trust me?

"Panthro, I'll be needing the Thundertank this morning to travel to the Balkin village," Tygra said casually, as if the previous discussion had never occurred.

"Fine. When do we leave?"

"White and I will be leaving in about an hour."

"Wait, tiger--"

"Panthro, I have already cleared this with Lion-o. Besides, you are on watch, and it's not as if I don't know how to drive the Thundertank."

"Of all the insolent, self-serving--"

Ignoring the irate panther, Tygra helped her to her feet. As her mate propelled her toward the door, Talitha wondered, Name of the Goddess, what will happen next!

*****

The mystic threaded a crimson ribbon through Tygra's mane. She fingered the long stands carefully as she worked, and marvelled at their length. The extended border of white fur had grown to a point just below the architect's shoulders. In respect of white tiger customs, her lover had stopped trimming his mane when he had learned of her pregnancy. Today, he had finally acceded to her wish to wear the vibrant red symbol of parenthood.

The mystic tied off the long braid with a simple, but sturdy, knot. "Don't move," she ordered.

"Aren't you finished with me yet?" Tygra asked impatiently.

"There is one last touch to appease Panthro, as you well know." She picked up the necklace that rested on the low table. Talitha placed the pendant over her mate's head and arranged it on his neck. "Now he cannot complain that you're not officially attired."

Tygra regarded the large disc set in its silver mounting. "I don't know why Panthro has made such a fuss," he grumbled. "I am attuned to the Sword of Omens whether I wear the Thundercat symbol or not. The momentary enhancement of my abilities comes from the sword alone. There is no significant magic in this symbol."

"Yes, that is true, but Jaga matched the medallion to your aura precisely for a symbolic reason. It glows when you are summoned by the sword even if it is locked away in a drawer. That is because the magic within the disc radiates its approval of you, so that all may see. It signals the approval of the Lord of Thundera to whom you are sworn."

Tygra traced with his claws the black feline profile that decorated the scarlet medallion. "I think that Panthro feels that I have forgotten what the symbols represents. That is why he had the Wolos make this special mounting for me when I reached my thirty-first birthday.

"Talitha, I was Lion-o's regent; I am still his councillor. It's impossible for me to ignore my position!" he huffed.

"Pouting doesn't become you, Tygra," she chided. She handed him a black mantle to wear over his blue robe. "Panthro is more firmly grounded in tradition than you. Both his parents were fine warriors.

"Now stop fussing, and let me look at you. At this rate, we will never be ready to start for the Balkin village."

The tiger turned in a circle. "Do I pass your inspection?" he grumbled.

The mystic silently appraised her mate. Despite his plumpness, he looked splendid in the garments that she had made for him. Illuminated by the sunlight that filtered into his chamber, he appeared disquietingly young; however, his thoughtful amber eyes had long ago lost the peaceful mark of innocence. How I wish that I could heal the sorrow that I see in you, she thought wistfully, but then I would have to steal your past.

"Well?" he asked more insistently.

She forced a smile, then said, "You have passed all tests, Tygra."

She had begun to untie the lacings on the front of her gown when her lover suddenly remarked, "Stop. There is no need for you to undress."

"But I need for you to help me with my bindings. We are leaving the Lair, so I assume that you want this bulge that has obliterated my waistline to be hidden."

"Today is the day that we stop concealing your beauty," he whispered.

The shocked mystic dropped onto the bed. "Tygra, I have wanted nothing but to be free of those constricting bands for many suns, but why the change in your attitude?"

The tiger lifted her chin, and peered into her eyes. "I was wrong to let my fears keep you a prisoner in body and soul."

"But the Mutants--"

"Can be dealt with if necessary, as we have done many times before. We have our skills and our weapons."

"Are you really sure?"

"Let me braid your mane, and then we can begin our journey."

I guess I should give in to his wish. He has made up his mind; only a god could dissuade him now, Talitha decided. Securing her lacings, she answered, "There is one point that you have not addressed: why we are going to the Balkin village. This is certainly not a matter relating to healing."

"Goddess, I almost forgot!" Tygra pulled open the lowest drawer on his dresser. He removed a metal canister which he raised above his head. "This," he said proudly, "is the blueprint for the new Balkin granary."

"So that is why you spent the winter hunched over your drawing board! Who made the request?"

The tiger said, "If you must know, weavermaster Batra originally presented it."

Batra? How very odd, Talitha wondered. Why would a weaver be concerned about a granary? "Tygra, I don't see--"

"Talitha, you forget that Batra is a village elder. Anyway, it will all become clear once we speak to him, you'll see."

The mystic said, "I suppose I shouldn't worry then. At the very worst, I'll get some fresh air." She picked up the cape that she had draped over the ugly chair. "We'd best make our escape before we find Panthro at the controls of the tank."

"You're not going anywhere, mistress, without this ribbon," Tygra declared as he brandished the red strand, and blocked her path.

Talitha replied, "If you insist, my lord. But if you don't finish your task quickly...well, I can't be responsible if we are...late."

The architect answered her invitation with a frown. He said firmly, "That is one point I refuse to yield, temptress."

She sprang toward the Thundercat, and tugged his braid before he could avoid her ambush. "We shall see, my lord," she teased, "we shall see."

*****

Slythe lowered his skycraft onto the shifting desert sands. In the distance, Mumm-Ra's pyramid glowed with raw yellow light. Lightning spiraled in wide random arcs between the spires set at the corners of the tomb.

"S-s-so, evil one, Third Earth feels your power once more," Slythe hissed. For many suns the tomb had not shown any indication of the priest's magic. Rumors had flown that the ancient being had deserted this reality for another. Mutant scouts and Thundercats alike had scoured the surface of the pyramid for signs of the mummy. The yellow glow alone had been insufficient to verify the existence of Mumm-Ra, and Meryt, a beacon of goodness, had offered no answers when questioned by the Thundercats. That is what his spies had reported, but it had seemed to him more likely that the priestess merely wished to keep her knowledge secret. It mattered not what the priestess knew, for Zhiss had told him that Mumm-Ra still slept within his tomb.

Slythe leaned against his craft, and idly watched the play of light across the plates of his armor. Without warning, the electrical discharges between the spires intensified. A piercing sound vibrated the air. The reptilian shielded his ears against the painful assault. The disruption ceased almost as quickly as it had begun. Slythe surveyed the exterior of the pyramid. The gateway into its dark chambers stood revealed.

"Yes-s-s, great Mumm-Ra, I am quite ready to meet with you, but are you prepared for a prince? We shall s-s-see what our master has planned for us!"

Fingering the hilt of one of the jewelled daggers that he carried, the reptilian swaggered into the pyramid.

*****

The Thundertank crawled along a course that paralleled the River. The rain, while not sufficient to have flooded the countryside, had left the earth a blanket of thick mud. The tank, its maneuverability severely hampered by the poor terrain, struggled over every mile that it traversed.

The mystic, settled next to Tygra in the front compartment of the vehicle, tried to keep her mind off the rough ride. Although the air was winter cool, the protection afforded by her cloak made her comfortably warm. Despite the occasional jolt from the tank, she slipped into a relaxed state. Her thoughts roamed among the barren trees. Her reality shifted with whatever she saw. In an instant, she became a companion to a bird or a weathered rock.

From deep within her mind, an idea arose with startling clarity. Goddess help him! He must have been in the palace on the day of nursery massacre. "Tygra!" she shouted. The architect immediately applied the brakes, and jostled them both.

"Talitha, are you all right?" he gasped once the tank had skidded to a halt.

The mystic rubbed the hand that she had strained when she had prevented herself from colliding with the control panel before her. "Yes. There was no need for you to stop. There was really nothing to worry about. I--"

"By the saints! What in the Mutant hells was it all about then!" The angered architect leapt from the tank without awaiting her reply. The mystic leaned over the door panel for a better view of her lover. The tiger kicked at a half-buried tread. "We're stuck," he growled.

"Tygra, I'm sorry."

"You damn well should be sorry! If you think that I have the strength to push free this tank, you are sadly mistaken. I'm not Panthro or Lion-o." The tiger circled the tank, and spit curses with each step.

I can't stop his tirade with shouting, she decided. I must stun him into silence. She said calmly, "Tygra, why have you never told me that you were in the palace on the day that the Mutants slaughtered the cubs in the royal nursery?"

The tiger broke off his speech in mid-sentence. She had reasoned correctly, but hated the result. She would not have gotten a more surprised look from her silenced lover had she struck him with her staff. Tygra backed away from the tank. He leaned against a tree. The gentle breeze carried his whispered curses.

Talitha disembarked from the tank by use of the side door. Her mate's haunted expression had added many seasons to his age. Had she responded too strongly to his anger with her own righteousness? "Tygra, I'm didn't mean to hurt you," she apologized, "but I finally realized what Panthro meant to say this morning before you interrupted him. That is why I cried out so suddenly." She gave him a tender nudge. "I have made a mess of things as usual, haven't I."

Tygra replied huskily, "No." He stroked her mane slowly as he continued. "You have always chosen the right path and not the wrong. I should have realized that your intuitive mind would eventually lead you to the truth."

"You need say no more, dear one."

"Oh, but I must...now. You have a right to know more about the time in my life when I served King Claudus, and especially of that dark day." He put her hand to his face, then kissed her palm. "Talitha, it is but a mile or two more to the Balkin village. Let's continue. I'm sure the villagers will help us get the tank free once we tell them of our plight." He added, "I-I will...try to tell you about that day as we walk."

The hesitation in his words had weakened his beautiful voice. I wish I could take away this painful memory from you, Tygra. I was selfish to want to know. My punishment is to share in your hurt, she decided, and that is just.

Tygra tapped the tip of her nose. "Only one of us is allowed a sad face, mystic. You shouldn't feel badly about the tank. I've been fighting the mud since we left the Lair. It probably would have gotten stuck anyway. I apologize for my outburst. My words were--"

"Colorful."

The tiger shrugged his shoulders. A faint smile softened his sad expression. "Panthro's influence," he admitted. The sunlight that filtered through the forest canopy dimmed. Tygra looked at the wispy grey clouds that spotted the blue sky. "Come, dear one. We have a walk ahead of us; it's best we get started. I pray the Goddess grants you strength, but there is no need to tire yourself. I will carry you if need be."

"Nonsense!" Talitha countered. "I am only pregnant; I am not an invalid. Let me get my staff, and we can commence."

He gave her hand a squeeze of support before releasing it. Walking back to the tank, Talitha thought, I am more concerned, Tygra, with tiring my soul, and not my body.

*****

The vaulted ceiling of Mumm-Ra's chamber crawled with phosphorescent mold that conveyed upon the sanctum the illusion of great size. Maddened pleas for release echoed softly from the rough-hewn tunnels that pockmarked the innermost recess of the pyramid. Slythe breathed deeply of the musty air. What is illusion in this place of high evil, he thought, and what is real? A crackling noise drew his attention to one wall. A thread of electricity scurried along the cracked limestone like vermin. The reptile moved cautiously through the thick atmosphere that infected the tomb. With each step, he felt as if he had crossed through a different layer of time.

The reptile's nostrils marked the rotting presence of Mumm-Ra before his eyes did. The figure that stood next to a great stone cauldron swayed with each word that he uttered. Heated by fire and magic, the fluid in the pool bubbled wildly. Tendrils of steam shot upward, and cloaked the four basalt guardians that protected the hall. Mumm-Ra's voice built from a whisper to a frenzied shout. He cast a powder into the frothing waters. A thunderous explosion rocked the surface of the pool, and yet no water spilt onto the slime encrusted floor. Brilliant light streamed from the great vessel as the waters settled to a glassy stillness. The ancient priest pointed his bandaged finger at the quieted cauldron. "Greetings, Slythe, servant of Zhiss," he wheezed. "Come forward."

Slythe replied with cool assurance, "It has been some time, ye-s-s-s, Mumm-Ra, s-s-s-since last Third Earth knew your wrath. What is that you wish me to see in your cauldron? Do you perhaps-s-s desire that I fling mys-s-self in?"

"Fool!" Mumm-Ra shrieked. "What meaning does time have to one such as I! Many months have I fought on a plane of existence beyond your meager comprehension, only to know partial victory. And now, before my full strength has been restored to me, I must assist you, the lowest of our master's servants. Look into the waters, reptile, and listen to the plans of the evil one that we both serve, or ignore my command at your peril."

With deliberate slowness, Slythe positioned himself opposite the mummy, and obediently peered over the edge of the cauldron. The brilliance that illuminated the water obscured the basin of the vessel. White light, yes, Slythe thought. No, it changes to-- "Thundercats!" The reptile's howl rattled every crevice within the tomb. "Show me the way to strike my enemy, pries-s-st!" he demanded.

Mumm-Ra silently pointed to the shifting visions in the liquid. In the courtyard of Cats' Lair stood the architect who had designed the fortress: Tygra. A mystic known as White sat on a step of the grand staircase that led into the Lair. "Of what importance is this vision, Mumm-Ra? It is-s-s Lion-o that I wish to see and the manner of his destruction. What do I care for these two?"

The priest's leathery face remained impassive. "Observe," he hissed.

The pool darkened as a new image formed. Two shapes coupled in the night in the disgustingly intimate fashion of warm-bloods. "By the Egg," Slythe cried in surprise, "The tigers are lovers!"

Mumm-Ra's tubercular laughter reverberated throughout the tomb. "Compose yourself, and keep watching. You will find the next image most intriguing."

The reptile's grip on the rim of the cauldron threatened to break it. The vision in the pool rippled slightly. The scene appeared as before, and yet something had changed. Yes, now he knew. The fornicating Thunderans had fattened on the snarf's cooking, the female especially so. His spies had mentioned the change in the tigers. He had discounted the conclusion of the avian scientist in his castle, but he should have listened to Veezmar. The avian had been correct: the white tiger and the red had cast off Thunderan custom, and had mated to reproduce. "She is pregnant," Slythe whispered. He stared quietly into the water until Mumm-Ra dispelled the image with a wave of his hand. Only the firelight beneath the cauldron now brightened the dank chamber.

"The unborn cub is your target, Slythe," the priest murmured.

"But what of Lion-o and the Sword of Omens," Slythe protested hotly. "It is my right to finish the destruction that my father had begun."

"The Lord of Thundera is not for you."

He dared not challenge the finality in the priest's statement. Zhiss, it seemed, had commanded that Lion-o be taken from him because of his failure to eradicate the last Thunderans. The decision of his Lord had been fair. He would fulfill the will of Zhiss whatever it might be, and give his death meaning. "How much longer mus-s-s-t I wait for this whelp to be born," he muttered in resignation.

Mumm-Ra wheezed gleefully, "The evil heart of this sacrifice rests in the simple fact that you do not have to wait for the cub's birth. You will slay her within her mother's womb."

"So I shall slay mother and daughter."

"No, dullard, only the infant, so that the tigress and her mate will know great torment."

Exquisite, Slythe decided, but how? He admitted reluctantly, "The method escapes me, priest."

"That, fool, is why Set sent you to me. Unfortunately, the decision to proceed rests with you, Slythe."

And you will never understand my decision, for no warrior's blood ever roared in your withered veins, Slythe thought. He regarded the hunched and crippled figure before him. You cannot hide how much you desire for this plan to be fulfilled. Long have you wished vengeance on the architect for all he has undone of your evil. Although Lion-o is the heart of the Lair, the architect is its soul. The soul tires from the unrelenting responsibility demanded of him. Strike at him again, even indirectly, and this time he will collapse, and bring down the Lair. Yes, Mumm-Ra, it is a good plan, and one deserving of my life.

The reptile stared at the mummy until the ancient priest looked away in disgust. "Decide!" he sputtered angrily.

The rage that coated Mumm-Ra's hardened features warmed the cold pain in Slythe's gut. If he kills me here and now for my rebellion, I would die knowing that I had won this contest of wills. Now we both know that I am superior. Slythe remarked casually, "I s-s-suppose, priest, that I will accept your help in this-s-s matter. Let us not forget that it is the will of our master that we perform." He leaned over the edge of the cauldron, and spit into the waters.

"I will destroy you for that insult!" Mumm-Ra screamed. The priest raised his bandaged arms, and began an incantation.

"Hold your spell! If you kill me, you must wait to strike at the architect until your full strength returns. Are you ready to accept another delay?"

The mummy answered with silence.

"A wise decision, Seti," Slythe said softly. "Now show me what I need to do to complete this small task."

*****

The Balkin village will be in sight soon, yet he has not told his tale, Talitha thought impatiently. She slipped on a patch of muddy stones, and barely kept to her feet. The tiger who walked several paces in front of her had not witnessed her struggle. Better concentrate on my balance, or Tygra will have to try to haul me out of this infernal mud if I fall, she decided as she straightened. I'd be as difficult to move as the Thundertank. She wrapped her cloak more closely about her. A strong breeze and gathering clouds had lowered the temperature considerably. Damn, I hope that it hasn't grown cold enough to snow. The voice of her lover suddenly drove away all thoughts of the weather and her discomfort.

"The massacre occurred on a day much like this one, Talitha. The harshest days of the winter had passed, but the coolness had held back the coming warmth of spring." The tiger halted, and looked not at her but at the break in the trees that pointed to the village beyond.

"One of my many duties included being a tutor for Lion-o and the kittens. I had finished teaching for the day, but the lessons had taken longer than I had anticipated. I raced from one end of the palace to the other, for I was late for my meeting in the courtyard with Panthro. It had been his responsibility to see that my warrior skills did not deteriorate, so he had scheduled me for exercise and weapons practice. Although my main function on any battlefield was as a field surgeon, I was expected to defend myself, if necessary, as required of any son of noble birth.

"My route took me by the royal nursery which housed the youngest cubs of the palace nobility. As I passed that chamber, cries echoed from behind its closed door. I charged into the nursery, and into a scene found only in nightmares. A small band of Reptilian warriors lunged toward the cradles. Only Cheetara and Queen Alina blocked their way. I roared in outrage and fear. My appearance diverted the attention of the attackers just long enough so that Cheetara could reach the communications panel, and activate the alarm.

"In the battle that ensued, Cheetara and I kept the Mutants at bay while the Queen tried to gather all the cubs." The strong timbre of his voice weakened with pain. "By all the gods...I thought that the guard would never come to our aid," he whispered. "Mutant steel devoured the innocent. As I fought, one thought haunted me: how, by all the gods, had these demons reached into the very heart of the our Lair."

The tiger bit his lip as he forced control of his emotions. The mystic regarded her silent lover. Will he be able to continue this recounting, Talitha wondered. More to the point, should I let him continue if he chooses to do so. My prying has reopened this old wound, and maybe not for the better.

Tygra croaked, "I finally heard the roars of the guards and of Panthro added to my own. My joy at their arrival lowered my defenses. A dagger pierced my body. I'll will never forget the pleasure on Slythe's face as I fell.

"Bleeding, I lay stunned upon the floor. My vision began to fade. I wondered whether I would lose consciousness before Slythe sent the blow that would deliver me to the silence. To my surprise, a pair of strong arms lifted me to my feet. 'Easy, Tygra, you're safe. I have you.' My eyes refused to focus, but my ears knew the sound of my rescuer: Char'ran, fastest cheetah in the palace, the captain of the guard. 'Beware of Slythe,' I warned. 'Have no fear,' he had said, 'Kazir is keeping the reptile busy. Let's get you to safety.'

"Burdened with me, Char'ran's passage across the room proved difficult. For an instant, my vision improved, and I saw the door and a clear path. Salvation was at hand. Too late did I see the ugly shape that lunged toward us. I called out to Char'ran. He released his hold upon me, and I fell upon the stone floor. Before I lost consciousness, I watched Slythe plunge his dagger into Char'ran's breast."

The tiger bowed his head. His shoulders slumped with the weight of his remembrance. "The Queen died that day, and Claudus never healed from the loss."

"What of his other females, Tygra? Could they offer him no comfort?"

"The rahildi, the harem of Claudus, was a pretense, an illusion to satisfy custom. He had loved only Alina, and only with her had he sired cubs. Over the seasons, he watched six of his sons sacrifice their lives in service to the people. That he and Alina were able to conceive Lion-o in their middle-age was a blessing of the gods. After Alina's death, only Lion-o remained of his life with his beloved Queen. Were it not for his responsibility to his last son, I believe that Claudus would have chosen the silence." The tiger began to sob. "Forgive me my weakness," he gasped. "I never understood why Fate spun the pain that Claudus had to endure."

It is more important that you forgive yourself, Tygra, for surviving that day while others died, rather than worrying about another's destiny, Talitha decided. She took a cloth from her pouch, and gently dried his tears. "Forgive me, Tygra, for pushing you into reliving that horror. You were fortunate to have survived that disaster."

"For that miracle, you can credit the skill of a very tall mystic whose name on that day I never learned."

"To think that you actually met Tir'shan so long ago. In retrospect, that does not surprise me as much as you might think. I have a few pieces of my own to add to this puzzle. I have faithfully kept my word, but now I believe that Tir'shan would have wanted you to know the full truth. You see, he broke his vow of secrecy, and told me of this attack."

A smile cleansed Tygra's tear-stained face better than her cloth. "Now I understand why you didn't question Panthro further when he mentioned the teleport beam this morning."

"Tir'shan, and several other mystics had gone to the King's city for the celebration of the spring festival. My friend was excited about leaving our great hall for he seldom traveled after he had opened to his special gift. On his return, Tir'shan seemed neither happy or rested. Although he was my elder, and far more experienced with life than I, I still worried about him."

"Why did he reveal his secret to you?" Curiosity had lessened the sadness in Tygra's eyes.

"One day, after he had spent long hours performing difficult healings--"

"He got himself drunk."

"Precisely. He was tired, and this made him careless. I literally stumbled upon him in one of our many gardens. He was too big for me to move. I brought him some food, and coaxed him to eat. I guess he trusted me to remain silent. For that sign of respect, I have always felt honored. As I sat beside him, he told me about the massacre, and how the Mutants had achieved their invasion by the invention of a teleport beam. He also related how Jaga and Claudus had wanted the whole affair silenced so that the people would not panic."

Tygra commented, "Fortunately, there were limitations on the Mutant's technology. The attack was brief, although at the time, it seemed to me like an eternity. Their mothership automatically recalled them, and beamed them out of the palace after a short time. Thankfully, the king's sorcerers, without the populace knowing, continually warded the city thereafter against the device. The truth of what had happened that day burdened all those who kept the king's secret, especially those nobles who had lost cubs."

"It certainly bothered Tir'shan to spread the false story that sickness had struck in the palace, and had caused the death of the cubs and the Queen."

"And that story was never shown for the lie that it was. For reasons unknown, the Mutants never did launch another attack by use of the beam. It would have been so easy for them to have caused havoc in the isolated villages outside the four great cities. There would have been no easy way to defend those sites even with magic."

The whispers of the wind accented the melancholy surrounding the tiger. "How our lives have touched without our knowledge, Talitha," he said quietly. "Servalla. Tir'shan. I wonder what they would have thought of the workings of Fate."

"The past gives continual form to the present, and limits the future. At least that is what the philosophers say, Tygra. Do you think the past is that powerful?"

He replied, "To this day, the massacre affects us. You see, Char'ran was Cheetara's lover."

Goddess be blessed, is this the answer I have so long sought to the mystery of Cheetara's lack of fertility? Trying to keep the excitement out of her voice, she said, "Please continue."

"Just prior to the massacre, Cheetah experienced first fertility. She had loved and desired Char'ran, but he was not of a noble family. Fearful that the cheetah council would deny her permission to reproduce with him, she asked the Queen to help her circumvent custom, and to intervene. With the assistance of the priestesses of Miritana, Alina arranged a place for Cheetara and Char'ran to mate in secret. The Queen confided in Panthro and me about this mating, and Cheetara's subsequent pregnancy, because we were Cheetara's closest friends. Her parents, who had been historians, had died when she was 17 seasons old. She had no other family. The Queen expected us to be a source of comfort to Cheetara in the trying days ahead after the council had discovered her rebellion, for although the Queen had helped her, her role could not be made known without causing strife between the crown and the cheetah council.

"But Cheetara never faced that challenge. Char'ran and the Queen carried the secret to their graves. Cheetara miscarried the day after Char'ran's death in part because of the injuries she had sustained from the battle, but more importantly, because of a broken heart. The mystics who treated her kept her confidence, as we, her comrades, did. Since then, she has yet to experience another cycle of fertility, as well you know."

"How very sad, Tygra. I can understand now why she refused to answer my questions."

"I've mentioned this to you because you deserve to know the full story of that terrible day. In time, beloved, I hope that Cheetara will find the courage to tell you of this herself. By the bond that we share, please keep what I have told you locked in your heart."

"Absolutely, Tygra. It has become clear to me that this incident is the source of the anger that Cheetara and Panthro have directed against me."

Tygra rested his hands upon her shoulders. "Peace, dear one. Your pregnancy has put us all on edge because of the danger always stalking us. Come. Let's continue. The sky darkens and threatens more rain." The tiger moved toward the clearing and beckoned for her to follow.

Talitha shook her head, and sighed. What other secrets have I yet to learn from these reticent nobles, she wondered. "The past gives form to the present," she muttered as she traversed the muddy ground.

*****

Mumm-Ra's decayed lips formed a crooked smile. "What you need to do, reptile, is to use what I give you, and listen to my instructions."

"Do I not have any s-s-say in this matter, priest!"

"Oh, you do, warrior. You have already determined the why, but you also get to choose the where. The more difficult matter of how and when, the great Set trusts only to me."

He could fight the mummy and find honor in the battle, but no matter his desires, to go against the will of Zhiss was pointless. "Proceed," Slythe conceded.

"The storms that I have sent have stressed the villages to their limit. The next rain will cause the River to flood, and destruction will follow. Once the skies have cleared, the Thunderans, in their wretched goodness, will not hesitate to assist the beleaguered peasants. However, because of the dangerous conditions, they will not permit the pregnant tigress to leave the safety of Cats' Lair. It is at this time that you must strike."

"You expect me to storm Cats' Lair alone, and yet accomplish my goal? You are insane, servant of Set!"

"Fool! You must coax the mystic out of her sanctuary with the one bait that she cannot resist: a wounded creature. Her code forbids her to refuse aid, even to an enemy. Her own safety is secondary if there exists the smallest chance that she can render assistance to another. You will spring the trap while she tends to the injured one."

"Have you forgotten the Lair scanners, priest? And what of the superiority of Thunderan senses? To even approach the tigress, I would have to invisible! How can you dare to consider this plan worthy." The space before Slythe suddenly shimmered red. The reptile warned, "I have no mind for games, priest!"

Mumm-Ra replied, "I should withdraw this gift because of your insolence, but the will of Set must be done. Grasp the air, fool!"

Slythe passed his hand through the red light. The glow disappeared, and yet, he grasped something soft that he could not see. "Truly amazing!"

"This cloak of invisibility will shield you from the Lair's scanning beams and the mystic's sight. You must use your warrior skills to move silently, and align yourself with the wind so that she does not smell you."

To show his astonishment to the mummy was a weakness that he could ill afford. Slythe said critically, "The illusion is imperfect, Mumm-Ra. My eyes detect a slight disturbance of the air about the fabric."

"Wretch! The atmosphere is disturbed only when you move, and ever so slightly. Choose your place of hiding well, so that when you strike, the variation will go unnoticed."

Placing the invisible cloak under his arm, Slythe said impassively, "What other tricks-s-s can you offer, priest?"

Mumm-Ra sang three spheres of light into being. The glittering blue orbs circled the priest like moths seduced by flame. The ancient sorcerer traced a silvery rune in the air. His whispered command propelled the phantom letter toward one sphere. Rune and orb joined with a delicate ring. The light ball, transformed into many colors by the rune, drifted toward Slythe, and floated lazily before him.

The priest said, "This is the lure that will trap your bait. The colors will mesmerize the unfortunate victim who will then be subject to your command. The sphere can be used only by you upon one victim. When you offer it to the poor soul, he will follow your will for the length of a day."

Colors that shamed the rainbow! How had the evil one created such beauty? Slythe reached for the brilliant orb. Solid! He gingerly wrapped the sphere in the unseen cloak, and lessened the light in the chamber.

Mumm-Ra sang to another sphere. The ball stretched into a serpent of luminous vapor. On his order, it snaked toward Slythe.

"By the ancestors!" The manifestation coiled tightly around the reptile's neck.

"No need to fear," Mumm-Ra replied smoothly. "This poison is meant for the healer, not for you. Launch it in her direction before she sees you. Its venom will make her unable to move, but she will feel your touch. She will remain conscious, and for that reason I must warn you: the effect on her mind gifts cannot be foreseen. She may be able to summon Tygra. If our brave tigress can communicate with her lover, the architect will most certainly come to her defense. Your time for vengeance will be...limited."

Pulling the vaporous serpent free, Slythe answered, "All that matters to me, priest, is that I have time to slay the cub. Let the tiger come. If Zhiss-s-s wills it, I welcome the chance to kill him myself." Slythe stuffed the writhing light-snake into the folds of the invisible cloak. He rubbed his bruised neck. That decayed lump of flesh should not underestimate my strength or my courage. How dare he make sport with a prince. If it is the will of Zhiss, Mumm-Ra, I swear that I will smite you from beyond death. "Priest," he said, "you have yet to present the weapon that will slay a tiger's cub. What will you conjure with your last sphere of light?"

"I will require one of your daggers," Mumm-Ra said softly. His rotted grin strained his blue flesh.

Great Zhiss, we destroyed Thundera as was our destiny! There exits no future for the last Thunderans. Must you punish me so severely! The reptile clenched his fists. The invisible cloak in his arms squirmed as he squeezed it close to his body. Must not let that foul being see my pain! He said calmly, "What you ask, priest, is a part of my s-s-soul."

"Precisely."

"I won the daggers when I became the one Prince of all the Reptilian clans. I slew my brothers for the right to challenge the King, my father. The destruction of Thundera, wars among my people, and my personal quest over many turnings to locate in the vast emptiness of space the few survivors of that lost world kept me from my goal. By reptilian law, I cannot challenge my father without possessing both blades."

"Your sire will not search for you, Slythe, and you no longer have a starship at your disposal to travel to your homeworld."

Decay and the dark. It is finally over, Slythe decided. How could I have denied the truth for so long. He caressed the hilt of the sharper blade. None of it ever mattered, did it omnipotent Zhiss. He drew the knife, and set it on the rim of the cauldron. I lived as a warrior, and I will die as one, and that should be enough.

Mumm-Ra's maniacal laughter shook the weakened stones. "Observe the might of Set!" Keening and swaying, the priest commanded the blade and the final sphere into the cauldron. The deafening sound of metal and light transformed rocked the waters of the pool. A column of liquid rose to the ceiling. As the waters settled, a dagger of light remained suspended above the pool.

"Your weapon, Prince Slythe." With a gesture, the priest ordered the blade back to its original resting place. "Sheathe this gift of Set. Draw it only when you plan to use it."

Slythe took the glowing dagger. Despite its apparent lack of solidity, the weapon felt warm and inviting in his hand. Help me fulfill my destiny, and restore my honor, deadly one, he prayed. I promise you that tiger blood is sweet.

*****

Nothing smells more delicious than freshly baked Balkin bread, Talitha thought lazily. With a yawn and a stretch, she dispelled the mental cobwebs brought on by a nap.

"Finally awake, I see." The petite ewe wearing a yellow dress with a finely embroidered bodice brought a cheerful dose of color to an otherwise drab room. She carefully set a tray of tea and delicacies on a low table near the hearth. "Now don't move, my dear. I'll serve you. You must rest."

"Kind weavermistress, you pamper me," Talitha said. "And to be honest, I don't think that I could manage to rise from this delightfully comfortable chair without assistance."

Not looking up from the tray with which she was fussing, Bellena declared, "Husbands are certainly useful that way. I am afraid, however, that your mate and mine are still trying to rescue your vehicle from the mud, so you'll just have to stay where you are for now, and relax. Here, have some tea."

"I am--" The unexpected pain in her body made her gasp.

Bellena dropped a cup onto the floor. She quickly moved to the mystic's side. "By the horn, it cannot be your time!"

Waving her hand, Talitha answered breathlessly, "N-o, n-o. Th-this cub kicks with her father's strength, th-that's all, Bellena." The mystic straightened. The fine teacup lay shattered upon the stone floor. "Oh, Bellena, I'm so sorry."

"There are many in this village who can make a new cup, my friend," Bellena said as she cleared the debris and dried the wet floor with a cloth. "I was more concerned about you. Your daughter's movements indicate that she is trying to get into a better position for birth. Your time will come soon."

"My loose tongue be damned!"

"A new problem?"

The balkin's perplexed expression helped defuse the anger the mystic had directed at herself. "Forgive me, Bellena. I-I have broken a promise."

The ewe tapped her nose as she contemplated her answer. "Ah, now I understand," she said finally. "The sex of your cub was to be kept a secret."

"It was Tygra's idea." Goddess, at least I did not reveal my daughter's name to Bellena, Talitha thought with relief. Poor Tygra, how disappointed he would be to know that he had revealed his secret choice inadvertently to me by means of a shared dream.

"That tiger and his secrets. Did he really think that he had anyone in this village fooled about your condition. Why every ewe in the village has been bursting to ask you questions about your pregnancy, yet out of respect for you, each one has kept her peace."

Talitha regarded her swollen abdomen. "Forgive Tygra, Bellena. He was worried about the evil ones, and what they might do if they had discovered the truth about my condition. I enjoy the comfort of my new freedom, but I wonder whether it would have been safer to keep my body tightly bound."

"We cannot live in fear, mystic, or fear will conquer us."

The ewe has made her statement with the conviction of a warrior, Talitha decided. Mumm-Ra and the Mutants will never prevail against such courage as the good people of Third Earth possess. We Thunderans should follow in their example, and not cower. "You are absolutely right," she said with equal conviction. The ewe nodded respectfully. Talitha patted her belly. "Anyway, Bellena, I couldn't have hidden this much longer. Gods, but I have become fat."

The ewe placed a piece of bread on a plate. "Nonsense," she bleated. "You're not fat, Talitha, you're pregnant. Now, Tygra, yes, he's the one who has gotten fat!"

*****

"Mistress of the house! Beer for your hardworking ram!" A balkin, whose horns had darkened with middle-age, swaggered into the hallway of the cottage.

"Batra, you old goat! " a female voice shouted from the main room beyond. "Your beer is for later. You have a guest to attend. Lead that poor tiger to the fire, then come help me in the pantry."

"Such a demanding wife," Batra quipped to the figure who accompanied him. "I'm sure that your mate treats you with far more respect.

"Weavermaster," the tired Thundercat sighed, "My Talitha has quite spoiled me."

"Batra!"

"Yes, my sweet one, in a moment." The ram shrugged his broad shoulders. "Better go in and sit, Tygra, or we'll never eat." The ram disappeared into the next room.

Gods above, I must look a sight, Tygra decided. Mud patterned his fine garment. He tightened the red ribbon that hung limply from his mane. This is useless. I had best do what Batra has requested.

His boots squirting water with each step, the architect shuffled into the main living area of the cottage. He regarded his mate who sat by the fireplace. Her blue eyes blazed with amusement. Before she could comment on his state, Tygra retorted, "I fell into the mud when the tank was freed. Is it not obvious!"

The tigress covered her mouth to contain her laughter. "Talitha," he huffed, trying to hold onto what little pride remained to him, "I have--"

"Sit!" Bellena, sneaking up on him from behind, pushed the architect toward the unoccupied chair by the fire. Tygra dropped ungracefully onto the furniture, which creaked in protest of his heavy weight. Bellena shook her finger under his nose. "And stay seated. If you behave yourself, I'll have Batra bring you basin of hot water for washing. We'll see what kind of covering we can give you while I clean your clothes. You certainly can't fit into my ram's trousers." The stunned tiger held back his thanks as the ewe ventured back into the pantry.

"Tygra, I am sorry for laughing," the mystic said.

The architect traced the soft lines of her form with his eyes. You are so very vulnerable, how could I ever have thought to be angry with you. "Sweet one," he purred, "your laughter gives me joy even when it is at my expense." Flustered by his expression of love, his mate shifted her gaze to the floor.

"Little lamb, after all he is your husband, he has a right to praise you," Bellena declared. The returning ewe placed a new tray of sweets on the table between them.

"'Mate', or 'companion' are more correct designations, Bellena," the mystic replied. "'Husband', as you understand the word, is equivalent to teniri. Only a ceremony can grant Tygra that title. If we took the vow of oneness that would make us teniri and tenira, we would be forbidden to join with anyone but each other."

The balkin shook her head in displeasure.

"Please understand, Bellena," Tygra added. "Our numbers, unlike yours, are small. For us to claim the rights of a lawfully bonded couple would be selfish."

"But after all that you have been through together--"

"It would still be selfish," Tygra replied.

"Bellena, let them be. They know their business better than we," Batra chided. The ewe quietly left the room. The ram proceeded to place a large pot filled with water onto the fire. Changing the topic, he said to the tiger, "The water will heat soon, then you can wash." The weavermaster looked toward the pantry. "Excuse me while I see to the mistress. She meant no disrespect, Tygra."

After the ram had gone, Tygra regarded his mate. The tightness about her mouth suggested that she had experienced some form of distress. Concerned, he asked politely, "May I scan you, Talitha? You don't look well."

"I certainly have enough strength to scan myself later," she replied curtly.

"But, Talitha, you seem to be...uncomfortable."

"Tygra, your cub dances in my womb that is all."

"Then won't you please let this cub's father help. Perhaps, I can quiet her."

With a sigh, Talitha conceded, "You would have served your King well as a diplomat, tiger. If you promise to stop nagging me when you are finished, you may do a scan."

"I was correct to tell Batra that you always indulge me, dear one. I am very lucky."

"Silly tiger," Talitha grumbled. "Just complete the scan quickly." She opened the front of her gown just enough to reveal the top of her belly.

Tygra moved his chair next to Talitha. Once again seated, he leaned forward, and lightly placed his hands upon her. He surrendered himself to his mystic gift. Wispy blue light swirled about his hands, and spread over the mystic's torso.

Deep in trance, Tygra touched the vibrant life of his daughter. The unusual vision of his cub returned once more, and filled his mind. How you have grown little Am'mril! And as I have suspected, you have begun to turn. Soon, we will welcome you into the Lair. No cub will receive more love than you. The blue aura surrounding his daughter pulsed joyfully. Everything is going so well, Tygra decided, sharing in his daughter's pleasure.

His growing fatigue intruded upon his happiness. Time for your father to go. Rest little one, and give your mother some measure of peace. Tygra altered the frequency of his power. The blue field protecting his cub took on a violet hue as he guided his daughter into a cycle of sleep. Tygra regretfully withdrew his power. He rested his hands in his lap. The architect opened his eyes slowly to ease his transition from the healing trance.

"By the Gods, I've gone mad!" Tygra shouted. Except for the brilliant figure before him, darkness surrounded him.

"Tygra, what's wrong?" the light asked. The vague form blazed blue and violet. Crimson rays flowed from the center of the creature.

Tygra leapt to his feet, and stumbled over a table which he did not see. A green sphere of energy caught him, and prevented him from falling. Tygra pushed away the witch light. He sank to his knees in fear, and buried his face in his hands, but multicolored rays of light trickled through his fingers. "My hands!" he cried out in terror. He closed his eyes and found relief from the madness into which he had plunged.

Burning energy entered his body. His eyes shot open, and he fell onto his back. He was lost in a sea of blue. "Ancient Fathers protect me!" he wailed. A strong blow struck his face in answer to his prayer.

The shroud of color slowly dissipated with his pain until he found himself once again in the main chamber of the Balkin cottage. He tried to order his confused thoughts. I'm on the floor, he finally decided. He pawed the pillow upon which his head rested. There was warm flesh beneath the cloth cover. A white furred hand stroked his face. "Talitha," he whispered weakly.

She bent over his form so that he could see her. "I'm sorry that I had to strike you, Tygra, but it seemed the only way to break your hysteria. In Mrísena's name, please tell me what happened?"

There was no strength left to his voice. His words came in barely coherent grunts. I...do not...know. Cub...fine, then...something went wrong...ending scan. No...room. Only...color. Color...I...don't know-"

"That's enough, dear one. You've had quite a shock. Just lie here until you feel stronger."

"Ba-batra...and Bell-"

"Do as your mate says," the ewe answered as she and her husband finished righting the table that he had overturned. "And don't be concerned. You didn't hurt Batra when he kept you from falling. The old goat is tough." She shifted her attention to her mate, and said, "Batra, get the tiger something to drink."

The architect looked back to his mate. "Why?"

"You are truly your mother's son, Tygra."

"I don't see--"

"Don't you remember her journals? It appears that you are also an aura reader like Servalla."

"What!"

"However improbable, the evidence is hard to dispute. For whatever reason, you have suddenly opened to this new ability in the same way that you acquired your mystic power. Perhaps I should have taken your visions of our cub as a sign that you might have inherited this rare addition to your mystic powers, but Servalla never encountered your type of visionary experience. Your connection to our cub, and the visions of her that you are blessed with, are unique by any mystic standard."

"Another responsibility," he said wearily. "Will I never know rest from my many labors?"

"Rest is for the dead," Batra replied. "Here. Drink."

The mystic and the ram helped him to a sitting position. The tiger took the balkin's offering. The bitter drink made him cough violently. "Batra, are you trying to finish me!" Tygra gasped after the spasm had ended. "You know I detest Balkin beer."

"Would you have partaken of the cup if I had told you what it contained?" the ram replied smugly. He forced the goblet to the tiger's lips. "Drink up, my friend. This Balkin remedy clears the senses."

"More likely muddles them," Tygra commented grimly as he drained the cup of strong ale.

*****

The mystic studied Tygra carefully. Despite his ordeals, the Thundercat appeared to have recovered fully. You do, however, look ridiculous, she thought with affection. A wildly-patterned blanket barely covered him from waist to thigh as he perched on a chair set close to the fireplace. The tiger reached down to the floor, and soaked a cloth in a porcelain basin filled with hot water. After wringing the strip of linen, he methodically cleaned his muddied feet.

The low rumble of distant thunder rattled the window by which Talitha stood. We must hasten back to the Lair before the rains come again, she decided. The condition of the terrain can only get worse. "You have given Batra the plans for the granary, Tygra. As soon as Bellena returns your clothes to you, we should depart. The weather is turning foul once again," she said with concern.

Continuing to wash the grime from his body, Tygra replied, "We have one more matter to attend." He called for the weavermaster. When the elder appeared, he said, "Please show Talitha the true reason for this visit."

"With pleasure, Thundercat. Mystic, please follow me."

"Tygra, what in the--"

"Just go with Batra, dear one. It will all become clear to you, I promise."

"Such secrecy," Talitha sighed. She tracked the ram down a long corridor and into the work chamber. She halted several paces from the doorway. A Thunderan loom that dwarfed two Balkin counterparts crowded the small room.

"What do you think?" Batra asked proudly.

How in all the seven hells has my father's loom come to Third Earth! she thought with astonishment. She put her fist to her mouth to hold back the sobs that threatened to erupt from her throat.

The ram asked, "Whatever is the problem? Don't you like it?"

"Batra, I--Excuse me!" The mystic fled the chamber.

"Tygra!" The ram's shout echoed down the hallway in pursuit.

Why! Why! Why! Memories of a home lost forever consumed her. Unaware of her surroundings, the mystic collided with her lover. "Let me go!" Despite her struggles, the tiger held her tightly in his arms.

"By Jaga, what is wrong! I thought that my gift would cheer you, not hurt you."

No more fighting. The past is the past. The dead are dead. "Father," she whispered, burying her face against his chest.

Tygra gently rubbed her back. "I see...I was stupid as well as arrogant," he said quietly. "I copied the design for the loom from a book in our library. It never occurred to me that--forgive me."

She slowly raised her head. The fault was not his, but her own. His eyes reflected her pain. "You succeeded too well, Tygra, that's all."

"I'll have Batra destroy it immediately."

"No! Let the past shape the present. My family's weaving was held in high regard. I want the tradition to be continued here on Third Earth. Thank you for your thoughtful gift, Tygra."

The tiger brushed a kiss along her cheek. "Go back into the main hall, and rest, Talitha. I will assist Batra in dismantling the loom, so that we can easily transport it back to the Lair. It shouldn't take too long."

"Batra...I forgot about him. Poor ram. I hope I didn't frighten him." The mystic looked back down the hallway. The ram leaned unconcernedly against the door to the work room. With the pipe that he puffed, he sent wispy rings of smoke to the ceiling.

"Don't worry about him, worry about me," Tygra sighed as he tightened the weak knot on the blanket that threatened to slide off his hips. "I don't need to scandalize the mistress of this dwelling. I've had enough embarrassment for one day."

*****

"How in the seven demon polluted hells is anybody supposed to sleep through this storm," Panthro said as he stood before the long row of windows that lined one wall of his room. The driving rain battered the glass panes fiercely in answer to his angry question. For the peace of the cheetah sleeping on his bed, he curtailed the urge to shout: Quiet!

Glancing down at the slender female, he wondered whether she truly rested. She had moaned in her sleep several times. Her sharp claws had left holes in the linen as she reflexively grabbed the cloth while dreaming.

The darkened chamber suddenly grew bright. The roar of thunder shook the windows almost to the breaking point. Cheetara awoke with a scream.

"Easy swift one," he said gently. "It's only the storm." He sat beside her, and gathered the trembling female in his arms. "You are safe with me. Nothing is going to hurt you."

"A-A night--mare," she gasped.

"Gods, you're shaking like a warrior who has made his first kill." Panthro reached up, and pressed the control panel above the headboard. The small light above the bed illuminated the cheetah. The terror in her eyes mingled with the confusion born of a quick awakening. Carefully smoothing her disheveled mane, Panthro said calmly, "Mind telling me about this dream that has poisoned your sleep."

The cheetah freed herself of him. She pulled her legs toward her, and huddled at the far edge of the bed. "I am ashamed of my reaction, Panthro, because there is not much to tell." The cheetah avoided his gaze, and instead studied her long toes. "Simply put, a thing of teeth and scales, that I cannot bring myself to describe, such was its foulness, attacked me. That is all I remember."

"But that is not all that troubles you."

"Should I tell Tygra of my dream?"

As I suspected, Panthro thought rubbing his chin. This time you ask the question that I had posed to you. This horrible image has shaken you, and now, trapped in a fear fed by your anxiety about your uneven gift, you wonder if the dream could have been a premonition. He considered the possibility that she had seen a vision of a future disaster for the tiger and his mate, and dismissed it. Your psychic gift would have supplied more information, even if it were distorted, he decided. I must quell your deepest fear, Cheetara, for as it was with me, your fear is a fear, and no more. He replied evenly, "No".

"But, Panthro--"

"What would you tell them, swift one. Tygra and Talitha don't need to be alarmed unnecessarily. And quite honestly, we are doing all that we can do to ensure their and their cub's safety. The evil ones have had plenty of opportunity to strike us at our weakest point. If anything disastrous were going to happen, it would have happened already, don't you think."

The cheetah nodded glumly. "I suppose I should remember Jaga's words: 'A warrior does not live long when fear keeps company with the heart.' It helps no one if I am afraid of scaly phantoms that fade with the dawn."

"Precisely. But I promise you, if something more specific is given to you by your gift, I'll be the first to lock those two in the Lair and hide the key. I am not at all happy about their adventure today in the Balkin village. Considering the trouble that Tygra got himself into, I'm not too please with his relaxed attitude."

"He can't help it, Panthro," Cheetara said with a bitter laugh. "He's in love with Talitha and the idea of fatherhood. Can you blame him?"

Pulling her toward him, Panthro said, "Forget Tygra. My fur is short, and I'm freezing. Come keep me warm." Cheetara extinguished the light, then snuggled against him under the blanket. Her fragrant scent marked his fur at each point that she touched. Now is not the time! he thought with annoyance as his desire for her grew. To sever his passion, he snarled, "I don't know about you, but if I don't get some sleep, the fur will fly with the dawn. You know how surly I can be if I don't get enough rest." A crack of thunder punctuated his complaint. "And that damn racket isn't helping matters!" he shouted at the windows.

"Panthro, I'm too tense to sleep just yet." Her kiss blurred his protests. The attention that she paid to his body made him forget the tempest.

*****

Damn this mud! The young balkin kicked off a clot of wet earth from his boot. He paused beside a tree. The sky had lightened considerably since he had begun his journey in the hours before dawn.

"Go to the great cats," the elders had told him. "Only they can help us to recover from this devastating flood, and only you, Beskir, have the courage to cross the forest alone. We are all depending on you."

A faint noise disrupted his thoughts. The tall, brawny ram inclined his head slightly. There it is again, he decided. The cracking of a branch. The warrior drew his dagger from its sheath. He peered into the fog, but saw nothing. "Blasted weather has made me anxious," he muttered as he secured his blade. "Probably some waterlogged creature rearranging the forest in its search for shelter." Wrapping his cloak more tightly about him, Beskir moved on.

A cold breeze rose, and with it came the unmistakable stench of Mutant. The ram dropped behind a clump of dead shrubs. A bright floating sphere illuminated the fog. The twinkling orb hissed his name. His heart screamed warnings, but the light silenced his will. To his horror, he said calmly to the mesmerizing glow, "Yes, I will do your bidding."

*****

Talitha traced the stripes on her lover's neck. His eyes flickered open. "You have such long lashes for a male, Tygra," she purred into his ear. Her hand moved under the bed cover, and traveled slowly over his broad chest.

"Temptress," he moaned softly. "Have you forgotten your promise?"

"No, fat one. You can accommodate my appetite without thrusting." She let her hand stray over his abdomen.

*Talitha, I am weak.* Tygra disappeared under the covers. His tongue found the object of its desire. A delightful ache blossomed between her thighs.

An explosion of noise rocked the chamber. The startled mystic inadvertently pitched Tygra onto the floor as she bolted upright. "What in the seven hells!" he cried as he untangled himself from the linens.

From the other side of the door, the loud knocks continued. Panthro's booming voice augmented the din. "Awake! The River has finally overflowed her banks. There'll be no time for breakfast sweets this morning. Lion-o wants you in the control room now!"

As unexpectedly as it had begun, the commotion abruptly ended. Talitha moved to the edge of the bed. Her lover, still sprawled on the floor, rubbed the bruised bridge of his nose. She reached down and ruffled the top of his mane. "Later," she sighed.

*****

"The level of devastation that the River has caused is unbelievable," Lion-o said, panic rising in his voice.

"Fear will not help anyone, my lord," Tygra replied quietly. The architect rested his chin on his hand. He glanced at the landscape through the council chamber windows. The sunlight of late morning weakly pierced the thin veil of blue-grey clouds. "Episodes of rainfall are not at all unusual for this time of transition from winter to spring," he said pensively, "but severe flooding normally does not occur because there are pauses between the storms. In addition, the actual rainfall, although steady, is not overwhelming. The land usually has sufficient opportunity to recover. The data in our computer predicted a break in this weather pattern for yesterday. What caused the rain to return and to worsen so terribly last night is a puzzle."

Panthro interrupted his analysis. "Even if he doesn't have all the answers, listen to Tygra, Lion-o. He is the leader of this council, and has the experience necessary to mobilize us most effectively to help our neighbors."

Bold words, but I'm not entirely sure that they are true, the tiger thought cynically. You are our general, Panthro. You should be leading this discussion, not I. Tygra tapped the table with his claws. "Although Lord Lion-o will decide the final course of action that we will take, everyone's opinion and experience carries weight in this council. Is that understood?" The members of the household seated with him around the table nodded in agreement. Satisfied that he had the cooperation of everyone present, Tygra said, "Before we can act, we need to hear a full accounting of events from Lion-o as he was the last individual on watch. My lord, please start at the beginning."

Lion-o's tone mirrored his apprehension. "Queen Willa radioed the Lair. Because the dwellings of the warrior women are set high in the trees, their village escaped serious damage from the flooding caused by last night's hellish storm. However, Wolo town, also situated on their side of the River, was not spared. Before dawn, several Wolos approached the Queen to ask for assistance. Most of Wolo town has some standing water, and lightning damage, but fortunately there was no loss of life. The elder's house burned after one violent strike. Although Jawhar and his kin are fine, the fire claimed the village's communications link to the Lair. Because the land rises slightly near Wolo town and neighboring Barge Point, and their fields, not their cottages, are set closer to the River, they were far more fortunate than the Balkins to the south."

"Has any word come in from the Balkins? " Cheetara asked.

"According to Willa, the scouts that she immediately dispatched to the area at dawn have only reported back in the past hour. Her warriors climbed the tall trees in that region. From their vantage, they could see the opposite shore, and the destruction. Several warriors have reported finding corpses of Balkins and their livestock carried downstream by the swift current."

Tygra replied, "As you know, although weaving is the prime source of Balkin wealth, many of their cottages are located close to the River to accommodate those who make their livelihood from fishing. As we learned from the Berbils, the River used to overflow on a regular cycle in the ancient times before powerful sorcery altered the climate and the landscape. Balkin town still rests on a flood plain. These conditions formed a prescription for disaster."

"Enough of your cold analysis, tiger, what do we do to alleviate this suffering?" Cheetara growled.

The cheetah's cruel words stung him like a whip, but carried truth. Goddess help me get this right, he prayed. Tygra kept a firm, even tone to his voice as he spoke, as much to give weight to his commands as to hide his fears. "First, we will have to split our forces. One group will take the skycraft and land it on the plain to the north and east of the warrior women's kingdom. From that safe location, the group can ferry supplies to the warriors, who, in turn, can assist the Wolos.

"The second group will aide the Balkins, but will have to travel to the village by foot. The Thundertank cannot negotiate the current level of mud; the river current is too swift to safely utilize the vehicle's amphibious capabilities."

"Tygra, can't we speed this process at all? The Balkins are the most in need of our help. The Feliner--"

"Panthro, I understand how you feel. You built both the Thundertank, and the Feliner, but you of all people should know their limitations. There is no place to land the skycraft near the Balkin village. That whole region is dense forest. And we can't sacrifice our only ground transport to the mud and the water."

"The little skycraft that I built from the scrap left over from Talitha's spaceship could land safely in the forest."

"But Feliner II is not finished, Panthro, snarf, snarf."

"And there is no way you could have it ready to go in a sun, or even 30 suns," Cheetara added.

"The Lair had priority for the ship's parts, and metal. It's a miracle that in my spare time I could cobble a skycraft out of what was left."

"No one is criticizing you, Panthro, for not yet having finished the second skycraft," Talitha said. "The wonders of engineering that you have worked in this Lair still amaze me."

"I guess, we'll have to make due with walking," Panthro conceded, ignoring the mystic's praise.

Lion-o slapped his hands on the table, and said with frustration, "Tygra, have we exhausted all our options?"

"No, Lion-o. I am reluctant to suggest this, but there is a way that we can at least let the Balkins know that help will arrive."

The tiger hesitated. Kitra quickly spoke in his place. "Wilykat and I can ride our spaceboards down to the Balkin village."

Tygra studied the kitten. Her features had a developed a maturity that matched her brave words. In a short time, her days of kittenhood would be but a memory. Kitra had clearly seen what the others had not: only the kittens riding the levitating platforms, that Panthro had invented for them with wildly creative engineering, could easily fly over the obstacles between the Lair and the Balkin village. "When have you become a mind reader, little one," he said gently.

"How can we help once we are in the village," her brother piped.

"Once you get there, stay put!" Tygra declared. "I despise sending you two ahead of us, but the Balkins should know that they have not been forgotten. Talitha and I could use our mind gift of telepathy to contact the village elders, but as we cannot receive their thoughts over such a distance, this measure is not useful. Our sending might frighten them since they are unused to such power. As healers, we must do no harm.

"You can reach the village fairly quickly by means of the spaceboards. You both have medical knowledge, and your presence will help lift their spirits without the duress that the use of our telepathy might cause."

Tygra waited for an objection from the snarf. The elder turned his gaze to the floor, and remained silent. By winning Snarf's approval, he knew that he had won all. The architect regarded the kittens. Moments ago, they had appeared older, but now he recognized only the young ones that he loved. How can I send you into this danger! Tygra forced aside the cries of his heart. None of the other adults had dissented, for no other solution to the problem existed. He said to convince himself of the rightness of his decision, "Kitra. Katren. You have been given a grave task to complete in service to your King. You are rapidly approaching the next phase of your life. For this reason, you are judged to be quite capable of handling your part in this emergency."

"Damn tiger thinks of everything," Panthro replied.

"Not quite," Cheetara said. "He has yet to assign the rest of us to our duties with such finality."

The twins responded proudly in unison, "We won't disappoint you, Tygra!"

Damn a world that forces me to send kittens into battle! He said solemnly, "Does the plan meet with approval?" The rapid pounding of his heart sounded in his ears.

"Then it is all decided except for the division of labor that remains," Lion-o finally declared, breaking the numbing silence. "What have you in mind,Tygra?"

The architect momentarily rested his head on his hands. The tight band of pain that gripped his brow intensified. "The last group to leave will set the Lair's alarm system, and retract the bridge, so that no vermin will enter while we are away. You, Cheetara, and Snarf will take the skycraft, and help the warriors; Panthro, Talitha, and I will follow in the kittens wake to the Balkins."

"No!" The snarf stood up on his chair, and glared at him. "White must stay at the Lair. How do you expect her to walk in her condition the distance to the Balkin village, snarf, snarf!"

"I appreciate your concern for me, Snarf, but I have already--"

The snarf rebuked her. "What if you fall? Have you thought about that! No, White, you are far too close to delivery. You must stay here!"

Panthro set his hands on the snarf's shoulders, and tried to push him down. "For Jaga's sake, will you sit! There is no need to get upset. You have a fine point which should be considered." The disgruntled elder reluctantly compiled with the panther's demand, and resumed his seat. Panthro turned to Tygra, and said, "It might be better to have someone here in the Lair to keep track of the activities of both groups. Actually seems a perfect job for White. We can use the communicators in our weapons to check in with her. What do you say, Tygra? You must admit, Snarf makes sense."

That old fool makes no sense whatsoever! Tygra thought angrily. He snapped, "I disagree. She is safer with me, and as a healer, she can help the injured."

The mystic fingered the end of his braid. "A mystic must appreciate her limitations," she said softly. "You know how tiring healing is for me at this stage of my pregnancy. I would not be very effective on this journey. Dear one, I know that you are upset, but I must admit, Snarf is right. In this instance, you must provide healing to the Balkins, not I."

"How in the name of the saints do you think that I can manage without you!"

His question remained unanswered as all eyes focused on the snarf who suddenly shouted, "Who thinks that White should remain in the Lair, snarf, snarf?"

"How dare you supersede me!" Tygra growled, shocked by the servant's betrayal.

"It is Tygra's place to ask, not yours," Lion-o agreed. "Now just be calm, Snarf." The elder slipped into stony silence at the lion's command. "Proceed, Tygra."

"Is there anyone here besides Panthro and Snarf who believes that Talitha ought to stay in the Lair?" The tiger looked around the table. Every hand was raised except his own.

"I'm sorry, Tygra," Lion-o said. "In all other respects, your plan is a good one, but it is clear that White will remain in the Lair."

I have lost! He couldn't admit defeat, so the tiger nodded in submission to his lord.

"If all matters are settled, we should act," Cheetara said with impatience.

"Right," Panthro added. "While Tygra helps White construct a communications schedule, the rest of us can go into storage, and start assembling supplies. Once we get to our destinations, if we find that we require more materials, we can relay that information to White. She can prepare anything additional that we might need. Sound good?"

"Fine," Lion-o replied, "Let's move."

As he passed the tiger, Panthro said, "Prepare the control room for the Feliner launch first. After it clears the Lair, loose the kittens. When you are ready to go, meet me in the service bay."

The pain that had invaded Tygra's head had now settled behind his eyes, but it was nothing compared to the agony in his heart. The words stayed stuck in his throat.

"That's fine," Talitha answered for him.

But it was not fine. All that he loved he was leaving behind to uncertainty and danger. His mate rubbed her face against his. Anger mingled with love and pain. She had betrayed him by siding against him when all he had sought was to keep her safely by his side.

She moved away from him like the passing of a dream, and spoke in whispers to Panthro.

"Why?" he whispered.

*****

"Tygra, be gentle on those keys! You'll break the console." The architect continued to enter information into the computer without acknowledging her comment. Talitha reached toward him, but the warning growl from her mate dissuaded her. "I realize that you feel betrayed, but what force can threaten me here." His soft laughter frightened her more than his rage. "All will be well, I promise." Her words rang hollow against his contempt. Is there nothing I can do to ease your burden, she wondered sadly.

"Are you clear on how to operate the bridge? You have never had to do it before."

His stern expression revealed the stone that he had become. The hard covering would not permit light to enter his heart. "Yes. And communications should not be a problem. In an emergency, I can contact you by telepathy."

"There will be no more emergencies this day," he said harshly. "You must promise me that you will not leave the Lair, and that you will let no one but a Thunderan enter this fortress."

"I cannot make this promise. What if someone comes seeking healing? Although you have yet to be formally initiated, you are acquainted with the requirements in the Mystics' Code."

"The one oath I cannot ask you to break," he remarked.

His hostility gave way to despair. She placed her hand against his face. "Everything is ready here. You'd better go and put on clothes more practical than a robe before you leave."

He rose from his chair, and embrace her. The architect kissed her as if he expected to be gone a season rather than a sun. She whispered into his ear, "You'd best make this trip quick, elder. I don't intend to be lonely for very long."

*****

"Gods be damned!" A spray of water and mud followed the tiger's exclamation as he fell.

Panthro reached down, and helped the prone architect back to his feet. "That makes three. Where is your mind today, Tygra. It certainly isn't on walking."

"You know where my mind as well as my heart is," he replied curtly. The tiger brushed the muck from his clothing, but quickly gave up the futile endeavor. The front of his tunic and trousers had received the most damage. The Thunderan medallion around his neck wore a coat of grime. Tygra placed his hands across his chest. The fall had only augmented the pain in his tender, rounded breasts.

"Did you manage to hurt yourself this time," the panther asked.

Pushing aside his medallion, the tiger pulled open the front of his soggy tunic. "Does this answer your question!" he said sharply. The shock on the older warrior's face made Tygra laugh despite his sour mood.

Panthro fumbled for words as he continued to stare. "Why...what...when...." He finally blurted in frustration, "How much do they hurt?"

Enjoying his friend's discomfort, Tygra replied, "Don't even think of poking me to find out. Besides, you might get milk on your face."

"Milk? Milk!"

Leaving the panther to his bewildered mutterings, Tygra recovered himself. From his belt, he retrieved his bolo-whip. Activating the communicator placed in the base of the weapon, he said, "Do you copy, Cats' Lair?"

"You are very annoying!" an airy voice crackling with static remarked. "How many times do you plan to check in between here and the Balkin village? By our special bond, you know that all is well. I cannot get anything constructive done if you keep interrupting me."

"Much as it distresses me, this should be the last call for awhile, Talitha," he admitted. "We are near the western outskirts of the village. Haven't seen anyone so far. The kittens reported to me by means of their communicator. They reached the village safely. How is it with the others?"

"Progressing. Lion-o is not yet sure whether they will need to resupply the Feliner."

"Resupply should not be necessary. The Balkins are in worse trouble than their neighbors."

"Yes, but Wolo town and Barge Point combined have the greater population. Everyone is in need of something."

"Signal me when the Feliner returns." He quickly ended the transmission before his loneliness worsened.

"You really didn't mean it about the milk, did you?" Panthro asked.

Tygra found it difficult to fight a smile as he reattached his bolo-whip to his belt. Shifting the heavy pack on his back slightly, he pointed silently in the direction of the Balkin village. He walked ahead without waiting for Panthro.

He heard the panther comment to himself, "He couldn't have meant it!"

*****

"Excellent," the reptile hissed as he switched off the hand-held communicator, and hooked it back onto his belt. "The tigress is alone in her tower, and her lover is far removed. It is time to begin the sacrifice." Slythe looked to his Balkin prisoner. "Bes-s-s-kir, bring forth your blade."

The grimace on the enchanted ram's face indicated the struggle that his mind made against the command. Despite his stubbornness, he succumbed to the sorcery upon him, and did the reptilian's bidding.

"Strike yourself with your fine knife...here," Slythe said, touching the balkin's side. For several seconds, the strong-willed ram rallied against the order. His hand clenched the blade, but did not act. "Beskir!" Slythe roared.

The ram made no sound as he drove the blade into his belly. He doubled over still cradling the hilt of the dagger. Blood slowly seeped from the wound and onto the knife.

"Fool! I do not want you dead quite yet!" Slythe screeched. He left the blade in place hoping to control the speed of bleeding. Pulling the ram to his feet, and shoving him forward, Slythe commanded, "Walk! You have precious little time."

*****

Talitha curled up on the cushioned chair that Panthro had brought from the recreation hall to the control room. She rearranged the pillows supporting her back, and tried to settle into a comfortable position. The mystic studied the monitor display that tracked the workings of the Lair's internal systems. Gods, but this is boring, she thought. The colors and lights are making me drowsy.

She put her hand to her mouth as she yawned. The excitement and Tygra's displeasure had fatigued her more than the extra weight that she carried. I'll just doze for a few minutes, she decided. The alarms will alert me if something is amiss.

The tigress took a spare pillow and propped it under her head. She rested her arms over her abdomen. The gentle movements of the cub within her body increased slightly. "Be patient, little one," she sighed. "You will be free soon." She closed her eyes, and began to drift into the pleasant, relaxed state before sleep.

The wail of the high-pitched alarm woke her. "By the ten holy Fathers!" She trained her sight on the flashing red light at the edge of the console. "Problem at the periphery," she said calmly to herself. She clicked on the visual scanners located in the great cat-shaped head that adorned the top of the Lair, and tracked the disturbance. A repeating pulse sounded when she had found her target. "Furthest point of both security beam and scanner range to the south, one mile exactly. Let's see what's out there." With several quick movements she deactivated the alarms, and sequenced the visual onto the large screen above the console.

She displayed the forest border that began at the edge of the plain. Pushing the scanners to the limit, she zoomed in on the flattened boulders scattered amidst the trees. The intruder who had activated the alarm by crossing through the invisible barrier lay face down in the mire.

"Goddess, a balkin!" There was no way to communicate with the downed ram by way of the Lair's technology. Is he dead, unconscious or stunned, she wondered. She tapped the console with her claws. Only one way to try to communicate with him from here, and that method is imperfect because I cannot receive the thoughts of a non-telepath at this distance. I hate to invade his mind, but if he is conscious, he'll certainly respond to a telepathic sending with movement. At least in this manner he can provide me with a sign.

The mystic tapped into her mind gift. *Balkin, can you hear me?* The ram remained still. That settles it. I have no choice. I must check him myself, she decided. There is no one else. The tigress initiated the timed sequence to extend the Lair's bridge. She headed for the door complaining, "How am I ever going to explain this to Tygra."

*****

The architect shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. The dirty water reached to his knees. With each passing moment, his sympathy deepened for the distraught balkin who stood on a rotted tree stump. "You have said that warrior Beskir left the village well before dawn, Batra. Even given the conditions that exist, he should have reached the Lair hours ago. I have to believe that he met with some difficulty. Has a search begun for him?"

"We have very few rams to spare, Thundercat," the weaver uttered dejectedly, "but a small group is hunting for Beskir. I had hoped that you might have encountered him on your journey."

"Given the number of paths that he could have taken, it's not too surprising that we did not meet him. I wouldn't worry just yet," Panthro said.

"I suppose he could have started on a path that became too treacherous. Perhaps he had to switch to another route. That certainly would have added time to his journey," Tygra added.

*Tygra!*

The telepathic sending from his mate cut short the tiger's comment. The panther's concerned pleas became background noise to be ignored. *Talitha, what in the seven hells--*

*I've left the Lair. I'm on my way to the southern edge of the plain.*

*Blood of my fathers!*

*The scanners showed a dead or wounded balkin lying by the great stones.*

That which he had feared the most had come to pass. The pain in his head roared once more, and made each sending more torturous than the last. *Go back! Please, go back!*

*Forgive me, but I can't do as you ask*

*Talitha! Talitha!* His frantic sendings met with silence. The forceful tugging at his shoulder finally broke into his concentration, and left him staring at Panthro's troubled face.

"A message from White?" his friend asked with uncertainty.

"I must go to her!"

"Easy, my friend," Panthro said as he locked Tygra in his strong grip.

"Let me go! Talitha has left the Lair. She has found a balkin at the southern perimeter. It must be Beskir."

The panther held him firmly. After a moments consideration, he remarked, "We both would have preferred that she didn't have to go, but she is not going far, Tygra. There aren't Mutants under every bush. And your lady is deadly with that staff of hers."

"You don't understand!" the struggling tiger replied.

"Oh yes I do, cub. You are needed here for healing. There are plenty of injured for you to see to, or do you accept mystic responsibilities only when it suits you?"

"Gods damn you, Panthro," he whispered. The tiger felt his shame in the heat rising to his face.

"That's better." Panthro said as he released him.

"Thundercat...."

Tygra turned to the weaver who had remained silent either out of fear or surprise. I don't have good news to tell you, Batra, he thought, feeling his defeat keenly. "Elder, you've heard what I have told Panthro. Talitha related this information to me by means of her mind gift. I don't know whether the balkin is Beskir, or whether he is alive or dead, but I can promise you that Talitha will inform me soon of matters." The ram nodded gravely. The tiger looked at the devastation around him. He passed his supply pack to Panthro. "Batra," he said with resignation, "show me where your injured are housed. There is much that I need to do."

*****

With a prayer silently passing her lips, Talitha approached the unconscious stranger. Setting her staff on the ground, she knelt beside the ram. She turned him onto to his back, and felt the breath in his body tremble under her hands. The front of his tunic had become soaked in blood. The mystic tore the ruined fabric to reveal the wound beneath.

During the many seasons that she had practiced her craft, she had seen similar injuries caused by sharp blades. "I may be too late to save him, but I must try," she said. The tips of her fingers darkened to crimson when she touched the wound. Closing her eyes, the tigress took several long breaths, and began her descent into the healing state. The pulse of life in the balkin weakened as she attempted to summon the power to save him.

Her lungs suddenly filled with a fragrant vapor that invaded, then ended her healing trance. Coils of white mist had formed around her. "So sweet," she gasped trying to brush away the strange odor. The strength in her limbs fled without warning. Her body, stone heavy and rigid, toppled over the prone balkin. Terror and confusion snared her thoughts and her mind gift. Must reach Tygra! Goddess help me please!, she prayed. Scaled arms slithered under her leaden body and lifted her. A reptilian face had replaced the blue sky.

*Tygra!* her mind screamed once.

*****

The Thunderan crossed the deserted plaza to the sprawling stone building that the Balkins had converted from an inn to a shelter for the injured. He ascended several steps to the porch, and rose above the water line. Tygra bent down, and flicked off the worms that had collected on his boots. "'It shouldn't get any worse than this.' That's what you said, Panthro, but you forget the counsel of Jaga," Tygra said with disgust. "'Anything can become--'"

Fear consumed him, and changed his words into a cry of anguish. The powerful telepathic message from his mate seared his mind. *I COME!* Tygra answered. He leapt from the porch onto the flooded plaza below. The force of the impact caused the chain around his neck to snap. The Thunderan medallion flew into the filthy water and sank. Not stopping to retrieve the talisman, Tygra bolted across the main square. Bolo-whip in hand, he raced toward the outskirts of the town.

*****

The mystic lay upon a bed of stone. The reptilian standing beside her stared with malevolent intent. Her only comfort came from the infrequent blinking of her eyes that obliterated Slythe from her view, and from a unintelligible buzzing in her head that somehow promised rescue. The pain in her shoulders and hips, caused when he had dropped her onto the flattened rock, reminded her that she was alive despite the paralysis that afflicted her. The numbing chains on her mind induced by the evil mist had made the formation of thought impossible. The totality of her existence had become sensation, emotion, and the sibilant words of her captor.

Saliva fell from the mouth of the leering reptile onto her face.

DISGUST.

"S-s-s-weet mystic, welcome to the table of Zhis-s-s."

TERROR.

"Ah, ye-s-s-s, I can see in your eyes that you understand. It is-s-s a pleasure to send my Master such a morsel as yourself." He patted her full abdomen with satisfaction.

HATRED.

"Excellent! The more hate that you feel, the better the sacrifice."

ANGER.

"Do not think that you can fight me. I will undo any resistance that you might mount. Observe." The reptile brandished her staff, then struck the weapon against the stone with all of his strength. The crystal top shattered, and the wood split. The space above her radiated with blue light, but the comforting ray released by the faceted gem vanished as quickly as a broken dream.

SADNESS. LOVE.

The reptile became difficult to see through her tears, but his fetid breath warmed her face. "Your s-s-staff is good only for firewood now." He grabbed the front of her robe, and tore it apart. He wrenched off the strips of linen supporting her breasts and shielding her sex. The reptile fluttered them across her face before tossing them to the ground.

SHAME.

His loathsome hands fondled her tender breasts. He stroked the width of her belly. His touch reached between her thighs, and desecrated that which made her female.

HATRED. HATRED. HATRED.

Her wrath became the fortress which protected her sanity, but fulfilled his purpose.

DESPAIR.

Slythe's laughter crumbled the tower that held her dignity. "Now you are ready!" he shouted triumphantly. His hands once again weighed heavily upon her abdomen. The cub within her body moved against the pressure he exerted.

PAIN.

The air vibrated with guttural chanting. The coarse rhythm of his prayers fed her anguish.

The foul mass of noise quieted. Her spirit rallied one last time against luminous dagger Slythe raised against her.

"Mrísena!"

The reptilian plunged the glowing blade into her body.

The tiny one within her womb journeyed to the silence in agony. Entangled in her daughter's violent ending, Talitha screamed until the darkness claimed her.

*****

*I COME. I COME. I COME*

The pulse of his psychic mantra matched the pounding in Tygra's chest. Every muscle in his legs burned from his reckless run through the wooded countryside.

*I COME. I COME. I COME.*

Sunlight bursting through the thinning trees told him that he approached his goal. Strengthened by the knowledge, he quickened his impossible pace.

*I COME. I COME. I COME.*

A pain unlike any he had ever known lanced his mind. His hands instinctively flew to his head in a vain attempt to blot out the psychic torture. He faltered, and crashed to the ground.

Only his ragged gulps for air broke the silence of the forest. Tygra lay upon the wet earth. He stared vacantly at the sky above until the sky itself disappeared.

*****

"Gods be damned branch!" Panthro shoved aside the tree limb that blocked his path. The panther paused to check for tracks in the soft ground, and swiftly found them. "Just as I suspected," he said to himself. "He's headed for the Lair."

Running as fast as the terrain would safely allow, Panthro continued his pursuit of Tygra. With each mile that he covered, he reviewed what he knew. A distraught messenger had summoned him to the inn. Several Balkins had testified that they had seen Tygra run from the village like a person possessed by demons. No sooner had he digested the information given to him by the locals than Lion-o had reported to him by communicator. True to its quirky nature, the Sword of Omens had shown Tygra's mad flight, but not the reason for it. He had guessed that Talitha was in danger.

The warrior halted. He bent over and took several deep breaths. "Damn that tiger's endurance!" he cursed. "Savar himself couldn't keep up this pace. Maybe I should have listened to Lion-o." The young king had tried unsuccessfully to convince him to send the kittens with their fast spaceboards after the renegade Thundercat. With the thickness of the trees, the kittens could have fared no faster in the chase than he. Better not to have involved them, Panthro thought firmly. The kittens couldn't track from their spaceboards anyway, and there is no telling what in the seven hells is really going on. Best they stay to help the Balkins in case there is a surprise attack on the village. Never know when the Mutants will work their evil. Despite the grimness of the situation, the panther smiled. If I had set Kitra and Katren loose on Tygra, they might have knocked him out with one of their sleep grenades. What problems that would have caused!

The image of a frightened Cheetara returned to his thoughts, and ended whatever fleeting amusement he had felt. Has her nightmare indeed been a premonition? he wondered. The gods help us both if it has. Panthro straightened. Standing still isn't getting me any closer to Tygra. "Savar give me strength!" With determination, he sprinted into the unknown.

*****

The tiger rose slowly from the mire. His eyes darted wildly in their search. Somewhere hidden amongst the golden trees was the trail that led to the dark one. A glimpse of silver. His triumphant roar echoed his finding. Tygra hunted evil.

He ignored the ashen rocks that cut his feet, and the shining branches that stung his flesh. Whispering tiger shadows that pointed to a life lost long ago walked in the greyness that followed him.

"Father, why must you leave!"

"My son, keep me in your heart, and I will always be with you."

Thunderans and Mutants armed with brilliant swords emerged from the trees. They made the forest a battleground that drove away the sad shadows.

"Easy, Tygra. You're safe. I have you."

"Beware of Slythe!"

The blood of the slain tinged the air red. A death cry split open the earth, and dragged Tygra into hell. The relentless hunter pursued the silver trail slicing through the flames.

The inferno spawned a blazing panther. "It is finished...finished...finished...." Tygra swept past the melancholy specter whose lament dwindled into silence.

The path reformed itself into a radiant tiger disfigured by the fire. The powerful being grabbed him with its skeletal hands. With horror, Tygra recognized the handsome face with the fierce grin.

"No!"

His silver self laughed as he struggled for freedom. The creature became a shroud of light that covered him. Power entered his veins. It sharpened his teeth and claws into daggers. His muscles grew heavy and strong. The demon reshaped him into a primal form devoid of fear and pity. Tygra roared away the last vestige of himself.

The fire and the demon vanished. Only the blackness of the void remained. That which had been Tygra watched. His long tail switched in anticipation of slaying the victim that would soon be his. A shape darker than the dark lay ahead.

The tiger moved toward his prey.

*****

Pleasure. The last ray of power that had risen in his body during the height of his sacrifice whistled into the earth. So easily done, Slythe decided. The magical blade had disappeared into the tigress without any resistance. Her terrified cries released by the death of her unborn cub had enhanced the column of energy that spiralled down through his body and into the ground, the subterranean realm of Zhiss.

He regarded the unconscious Thunderan. It was strange that her mate had not come to rescue her. Surely her mind gift or the Sword of Omens had summoned him. Slythe tapped the stone altar idly. Perhaps the hazardous conditions had impeded Tygra's travels. The reptile gazed at the clearing skies. He had prepared himself for possible combat by donning only leather clothing and not his plate armor, so as to meet the Thunderan on even terms. He carried his remaining dagger as his only weapon against the tiger's magic whip.

Waiting for Tygra before proceeding with the final phase of his offering now seemed anticlimactic. Combat with him would be only an embellishment to an already satisfying sacrifice. Slythe smiled. He had done the damage that he had intended. The quiet tiger's sorrow would haunt him all his days, and poison his love for the mystic.

The reptilian admired his sharp knife. Offering himself as a blood sacrifice to Zhiss had always been his intention, a final gesture of gratitude that he had kept secret from Mumm-Ra. There was no need to wait for the painful and lingering demise that the cancer promised.

He listened to the mute sounds of the forest. So very quiet. Or was it? he wondered. He tilted his head to capture the elusive sound with his large fan-shaped ears. Footfalls? Yes! A Thunderan running hard. Raising his blade aloft, Slythe shouted, "So, you have come, Tygra. I will send you before me into the seventh hell!"

A blood and filth encrusted apparition burst through the trees. The creature roared with chilling ferocity. This was no Thunderan, but a fearful demon sent by Zhiss himself as a punishment. Must escape! Slythe's terror frozen limbs refused to respond. His fine weapon slipped from his hand.

The striped beast leapt toward him. Its tattered garments fluttered in the wind like shredded wings. The sharp claws glinted in the sunlight as they struck his unprotected throat. The blow sent Slythe reeling toward the smaller stones. The spray of his blood obliterated the sky. His neck struck a rock; his suffering ended.

*****

The bolo-whip looked out of place lying in a depression left in the mud. Panthro retrieved the magical weapon. Tygra must have dropped this when he fell, he decided. I can't believe he would continue without it. The panther tucked the weapon in his belt, and continued his search.

Maddened growls soon replaced the relative silence of the wood. Panthro crept quietly forward until the nearness of the sound rattled his bones. The panther crouched behind a clump of shrubbery, then parted the branches carefully. He stared in morbid fascination at the nightmare before him. Talitha lay like a limp straw doll across the surface of a large stone. With each roar, Tygra dealt another vicious blow to the unmoving mutant splayed across a smaller collection of rocks.

Can't tell if White is alive or dead, but I can't help her until I can neutralize Tygra. How in the seven hells can I subdue him without losing my own life in the process. Got to take this slowly, Panthro thought. He's has to see that it's me. The grey warrior cautiously moved free of his cover. A branch cracked under his weight.

The panther had no time to curse his bad luck. The alerted tiger lunged toward him with the speed of a winged god. The warrior reached for the claws sailing toward his face. He caught Tygra's left arm and squeezed with all of his strength. The tiger wailed as his wrist broke. Instinctively, the architect struck Panthro's brow with his free hand.

"Gods be damned bastard!" Despite his injury, the panther held onto his quarry. He delivered a blow to Tygra's midsection, then threw the breathless Thundercat to the ground. He pounced upon his prone friend, and pinned him.

"It's me! Panthro!" The veil of madness lifted from Tygra's dark eyes. "Easy, my brother," the warrior whispered. "That's enough fighting for one day."

"No," the tiger croaked softly. Without warning, he screamed.

"Tygra!" The panther shook the younger noble to break his hysteria. Abruptly, the tiger stiffened. His mouth stayed open uttering a soundless cry. His eyes rolled back to reveal only white. "Savar, Lord of all warriors, help him," Panthro prayed. The older Thunderan wiped the blood from the deep cuts on his brow with the sleeve of his tunic. He hated to delay assistance for the mystic, but he gambled that the tiger's unexpected seizure would end quickly.

In answer to his prayers, the tension left Tygra's body. Panthro gave his friend a cursory examination. Most of the blood staining the architect's garment had come from his mutant foe. Satisfied that the now senseless tiger was in no further danger, the panther turned his attention to the mystic.

Her steady breath warmed his hand. Although uncomfortable with her nakedness, Panthro continued his examination. Pleased at not finding any visible wounds on the unconscious tigress, he dared to hope that the reptilian had not had the opportunity to do serious harm to her.

The panther approached the fallen mutant, but darted past him when he espied another, smaller figure partially hidden by the rocks. Panthro checked the balkin. The condition of the body attested to the fact that the ram had been dead for some time. He uttered a prayer to Savar. The deity would surely be merciful and guide the brave ram's spirit on its afterlife journey. The warrior unclasped the circular pin that held the balkin's cloak. "I'm sorry, my friend, but another has need of your fine garment." As he rose, Panthro marked a bright reflection on one of the stones. After a brief search, he found a dagger lying by the base of a tree. The exquisite workmanship bespoke the Balkin origins of the blade. He placed the weapon beside Beskir before returning to the mutant.

There wasn't much left of the ruined face. Only the blade lying near the body identified the stiffening corpse as Slythe, the leader of the Mutants. Panthro kicked the dead reptile, then made his way back to the mystic.

He covered Talitha as well as the rectangle of cloth would permit. The warrior leaned wearily against the altar stone. Praying that help would not take long to arrive, Panthro pulled his nunchaku from his belt, and activated its communicator. "Do you copy, Cheetara...."

*****

The mystic bunched her fists. The pain that had taken over her body intensified its assault. The hard table upon which she lay worsened her labor. If only I had the strength to sit or stand, the mystic decided hotly, this torment would end!

The cheetah standing nearby commanded, "Push, Talitha!" You must birth this cub, or you court death."

Her friends words dissolved what little remained of her sanity. Of what consequence is my life now? My daughter is dead. My mate has deserted me. My soul is mine alone once more. All that remains is my anger! A contraction wrenched her internal organs until she believed that her body would certainly sunder. The mystic roared defiantly against that over which she had no control.

"The child comes, Cheetara. Thank the goddess, she's not breech," the midwife hovering by her side declared. The dark-skinned woman groped and tugged at the mystic's genitals. The unbearable pressure in Talitha's belly burst, and in its wake left a mass of fluid and flesh between her thighs.

"By the gods," Cheetara cried softly.

The sound of her own voice was distant and small. "My daughter. Give her to me," Talitha asked.

"No," Kanika replied as she cut the cord on the tiny corpse and covered her with linen. "Your afterbirth is yet to come. Save whatever power remains to you for yourself. The child is beyond your help."

Talitha propped herself up on her elbows. The room spun about in a giddy dance. She loosed her anger and found the strength that she needed to fight. "I am a mystic. The right is mine!"

Kanika grimaced, but surrendered the cub to her without argument. The tigress peeled back the covering, and looked upon her firstborn. Fear had pried open her tiny eyes; terror had pulled apart her little lips.

Her sisters vanished. All that existed rested in the wounded white face of her daughter. Her throat tightened in revulsion until her first tear cleansed her. The mystic cradled the dead cub against her breast. Nothing mattered now but to heal her firstborn. A warm, familiar sympathy replaced her fiery anger, yet augmented her resolve. "Mrísena, help me to purge this mark of evil," she prayed.

*****

Panthro poured himself another drink. "It's too damn quiet," he slurred. The grey warrior threw his dinner plate against the door. The shattered fragments and food flew in all directions. "That's better," he said slamming the table with his fist.

He looked at the night through the windows set high in the wall. Despite the light in the chamber, he could discern the clearness of the sky. Had it truly rained so terribly the night before, or was that too a bad dream like the one in which he now found himself trapped.

"Piece of Mutant filth! I'd have killed you far more slowly than Tygra."

Wishes, Panthro, only wishes, his conscience replied. Thundercat survival should be your prime concern. At least White and Tygra are alive.

"But what's alive?" The panther drained his cup of ale. No telling when the tiger will revive, he decided. Lion-o is keeping watch over him. He'll let me know when he awakens. "But by the gods, when!" he shouted. He rubbed his wounded head. "Damn it, Tygra, I didn't mean to hurt you," he sobbed. Tygra's wrist would mend, but nothing would give life back to his cub.

There had been no marks upon Talitha's body, but when he had lifted her off the stone, he had felt the wetness of her fur. The medical scanner in the sickbay had confirmed that her membranes had broken, and that despite her unconsciousness, she had begun to labor. He had not anticipated the additional data that had indicated that the cub had died. Only his loyalty to his lord had kept him from storming the Mutant fortress to avenge the death.

Thank the gods that Kanika had returned with Cheetara and Lion-o. He had felt better knowing that a healer would be present to help White. "But the females didn't do me any good," he croaked. "'Go eat, Panthro. Then, rest.' Some advice! Who can eat! Who can rest! Gods, why couldn't they give me something to do! At least, Snarf and the kittens are still helping the villagers. Of what good is the mighty Panthro now?"

"None, if he's drunk," the cheetah remarked icily.

Her words strung, and rightly so. At a loss to defend his actions, he asked instead, "Has Talitha delivered?"

"Yes." She added softly, "It was awful. The cub's eyes and mouth were open as if she had encountered something unspeakably evil. I'll never forget that look."

The tigress had given birth to a daughter, a little one who would never know the love of its parents. He was a hardened warrior, and yet this simple fact burdened his heart as no other. "Was Talitha conscious for the delivery; did she see this?"

"Yes. She was in the late stages of labor when she finally awoke." The cheetah paused then added with admiration, "She is the strongest person I have ever known, Panthro. Despite her loss, she took her dead cub, and poured healing into her. With her courage and her power, she drove the horror from her daughter's face. When she gave her to me to wrap, I saw that the cub bore an expression of peace. Were the little one not so cold, one could have believed her to be sleeping."

"But what of Talitha?"

"After tending her cub, she used her power to stop the heavy bleeding that followed the delivery of her afterbirth and provided herself with protective healing. The last effort exhausted her. She asked for a sedative. I had not the heart to refuse her. Kanika keeps watch over her now.

"I placed the cub in the freezer chamber until we can--"

"Don't say it please. Not tonight."

She ran her hand gently along his neck. "And what of Tygra?"

"Still out cold, and probably better that he is."

She pulled up a chair and sat beside him. The cheetah spoke with a neutral tone that ironically belied her calm manner. "I've checked in with both the Balkins and the Wolos. Several rams will escort the kittens home tomorrow when they come for Beskir's body. When we return Kanika to her sisters, we will get Snarf."

Her expression revealed the one fear that she had tried to conceal with small talk: could she have prevented this tragedy by having told the tigers of her nightmare. Teeth and scales. That was what she had said that night, and in a perverse way, she had foreseen the danger that had ultimately claimed Talitha's daughter. If anyone was to blame for not revealing the premonition, it was him. He had told Cheetara not to worry. He should live with the consequences of that decision, not her. If it takes me all my days, I will convince her of her innocence, he vowed to himself.

Panthro rubbed his eyes. Tomorrow, his hangover would make them redder than a snarf's tail. He rose, and extended his hand to Cheetara. "Come, swift one. Let's to bed. There is nothing more that can be done. I'm too drunk, and your too tired. Provided there are no further disturbances tonight, we will relieve Kanika and Lion-o in the morning. I've set the automatic alarms, although I wonder why I have bothered. The evil ones have had their fun."

*****

You have become a stranger to me, Tygra, the mystic thought sadly. You haven't spoken but a few words to me, and your presence within my soul is but a whisper. What has happened to our love and our bond? When will this numbness disappear?

The mystic put her hands under the long sleeves of her outer robe to keep out the cold in the room and in her heart. In the five days since the death of their cub, Tygra had slowly regained his strength as had she; however, when they had finally reunited, he had asked her to leave his chamber without giving her any explanation for his behavior. Yesterday, he had departed the Lair in secret. On his return in the evening, he had avoided the questions put to him by Lion-o, although he had promised to hold a council meeting on the following day. Owing to the tragedy they had suffered, the young king had granted her lord's request without further scrutiny.

The dark brown robe that Tygra wore accentuated his weary manner. His bandaged wrist attested to his stubborn refusal of healing. Everyone gathered with her around the table waited with nervous anticipation for him to speak. The reclusive tiger pushed the small wooden chest that he had brought with him to the center of the table. He said quietly, "My Lord Lion-o, I have betrayed our code of honor. I am no longer worthy to serve you, or to live among our people."

"Tygra that's ridiculous!" Her outburst spawned a deluge of similar complaints from her fellows. The kittens alone were too shocked to speak.

Lion-o's voice finally rose clearly above the din, "In the name of Jaga, why!"

Tygra banged the gavel given to him as leader of the council, and called for silence. When the excitement that his pronouncement had generated had settled, he said, "Open the box, Lion-o, and you will discover the proof for what I have claimed."

The lion uncovered the chest, and removed its contents. "You've found it!" Panthro exclaimed. "I was beginning to think that it would never turn up." Taking the Thundercat medallion from Lion-o, the panther suddenly cried, "Seven maidens! The symbol has disappeared."

"Because the recipient is no longer a servant of the Sword of Omens," Tygra replied with an air of strange calm. "The magic of the bolo-whip is also no longer at my command."

"That's nonsense," Cheetara retorted. "What have you done to have caused such a judgement? Something else must have happened to erase the image from the disc, and to have inactivated the whip."

"I have to agree," Snarf added impatiently.

The mystic regarded her lover. The cool reproach in his eyes made her shudder. In a moment, he will prove you all wrong, Talitha thought, for he has already verified the truth of his analysis.

Tygra said, "Let me hold the Sword of Omens, Lion-o. If what I have said is true, it will not respond to my presence. The Eye of Thundera will not open."

"I hope you enjoy making a fool of yourself, " Lion-o replied. After passing the bolo-whip to Snarf, he reached for the sword that he carried. He handed the blade to the older Thundercat.

No power radiated from the jewel in the hilt in response to the tiger's touch. "You have no choice, my lord," Tygra murmured. "The sword has given its judgement. In killing Slythe, I have betrayed all that we believe."

Panthro leapt up from his chair. He shouted angrily, "Slythe killed your cub, and molested your mate. He deserved death many times over for the evil he has done to our people. This makes no sense, Tygra. You must be wrong."

"What you have said of Slythe is true, but in the end, I did not fight him honorably as one who wears the spiral of Savar. I murdered him."

"You were not of sound mind when I found you," Panthro replied. "How can you be held accountable for murder."

"Enough!" Lion-o snapped. "I'm not convinced of your guilt, Tygra, nor do I believe that the sword has rejected you. We must speak to Meryt. Her knowledge of magic is extensive. She'll help unlock this mystery."

Gazing only at the shiny surface of the table, the brooding tiger remained silent. He protests not, and yet I know that he will have his way. How can he give a thought to leaving without even considering my feelings, Talitha wondered. He has made me feel as if I have disappeared. What of the loss that I have faced? The mystic took a deep breath to help reduce the tension that devoured her small reserve of stamina. No matter the anger in my heart, I am a healer. I must help him. The only weapon left to me is guilt. Goddess, let it be effective, she prayed. I've lost my daughter. Must I also lose my mate to the silence? "What of your responsibilities as a healer, Tygra," she asked barely concealing the tremor in her speech.

A callous smile marred his fine features. "Simply put, I am no longer a healer, mystic."

"Just because you have never been comfortable with your gift is no reason to hold it from your people," Cheetara declared hotly. "Have you forgotten that as a mystic, you must use your power, or invite madness."

"You all misunderstand." The tiger continued with a slight hesitation edging his voice. "When I regained consciousness, I had believed that Talitha had died, for I no longer felt her presence. I wondered how I could have survived given that possibility. When I discovered that she still lived, I had to search elsewhere for an answer to the deadened feeling within my soul. By experiment, I discovered that all of my mind gifts had fled. Impossible as it may seem, I have to assume that my bond with Talitha was also eradicated by the same force that destroyed my powers. So you see, Cheetara, madness cannot strike me by the avenue that you have suggested because I have no mystic power to withhold."

The explanation he had offered only deepened the mystery surrounding him. "Tygra, in one respect, you are wrong: our bond survives. I can still feel it, although it is as weak as a shadow. Your mind gifts must have become blocked because of the trauma you have endured. According to mystic texts, insanity is not a condition that you face, for your healing power has been naturally repressed. In this regard, you are as you were before you awakened to your mystic gift, and are, therefore, in no danger.

"Hope will only be lost to you if you choose to relinquish it. I beg you, Tygra, remain with us, if for no other reason than for the possibility of restoring your powers, and serving Mrísena once more. This world desperately needs healers." There. I have taken the best chance I have to convince him to stay, she decided.

The mystic marked his resolve in the stiff manner in which he held his body, and knew that she had lost. "I cannot be restored, for that is the punishment of the gods."

"The only punishment set on you is the one you have inflicted upon yourself, Tygra." The young king had spoken with a firmness that matched his growing wisdom.

Excellent Lion-o! You have seen what has escaped us all. You have found the answer. If only you could persuade him to see the truth, Talitha thought.

"Release me," Tygra demanded.

He weakens, but will not give in to reason.

"How can you leave White! Her life is tied to your life!" The snarf's cry shifted everyone's attention to the elder.

Tygra regarded the distressed snarf. "I am no longer a fitting companion for one as pure as she. I know my decision has hurt her, for her love for me is also colored with a healer's stubborn compassion. But she is the strongest individual in the Lair. If we all took the time to look, we would have noticed this truth long ago. She will survive my leaving, Snarf. And although I will no longer live in the Lair, I intend to stay alive on the slim possibility that she is correct about our bond. I have no wish to go to the silence with her death on my soul."

He had not the courage left to address her directly. Maybe the only solution to the problem rested in his plunge into the unknown. "Lion-o, let him go," she heard herself suddenly say.

"But, Talitha--"

"Tygra does not desire any healing. He will sicken further if he is forced to remain here against his will. Release him, and let the gods decide his fate." The lion clenched his fists in anger. Please, Goddess, let him see through my words. Help him to understand the bitter medicine that I have prescribed for Tygra. In solitude, he may find himself again, and return to us of his own accord.

"I will not stand for this any longer," Cheetara declared, "and neither will I permit the kittens to be a party to such idiocy. Let the fool tiger go if he wants to, Lion-o. His only concern is for himself. " She left her chair, and strode toward the door. "Wilykit, kat. Come."

"I agree, snarf, snarf!" The kittens meekly followed the cheetah and the servant out of the council chamber.

"I will never agree to this," Panthro growled.

Lion-o rose slowly from his chair as if burdened by the weight of his crown. He said, "Having heard the council of all present, this is my decision, Tygra. You are free to leave us, but if you chose to do so, I will name you a'tri'i, outcast. You understand what that means. You can never return."

The mystic had not counted on a decree of banishment from the young king. The shock from his pronouncement brought out the tears that she had fought to contain. This is not the time for weakness! she told herself harshly as she struggled to regain her composure. Talitha dried her face with the edge of her sleeve, and quickly countered in a voice husky with emotion, "Tygra can leave without bearing the stigma of the outcast! Why destroy all hope, and interfere with the ways of the gods!"

Ignoring her question, Lion-o said to the tiger, "You have until dawn to depart."

"So it shall be," the architect replied. Her lover, paying no attention to her distress, swiftly departed in silence.

"It is done, Talitha." Lion-o said. "He should have never put his feelings above our survival. The punishment is just." The king left the room without waiting for her reply.

"No, Lion-o, the punishment is not just. You have let hurt make your decision, not wisdom," she whispered.

"You of all people should have fought for him," Panthro hissed as he too took his leave.

Talitha spoke to the growing shadows within the empty chamber. "But I did, Panthro, more than anyone."

*****

Hidden by predawn fog, Panthro secretly watched the hooded figure who walked silently through the barren wood. Has he not heard my footfalls? he wondered. Has he become so preoccupied with himself that anyone can watch him and remain undetected? The older Thunderan cleared his voice. The individual ahead took no notice of the subtle disturbance.

Panthro bellowed, "Tygra, son of Siberan!" The heavily cloaked tiger continued his journey as before. Cursing, the panther bolted from his cover, and approached his friend. "Did you even bid Talitha farewell?" he cried. The shape halted, but remained silent. "In respect of custom, she granted to you alone the privilege of naming your daughter. If you will not accept your responsibility, tell me the name that you have chosen for your cub, for despite Talitha's loyalty to you, I will not send an innocent to the pyre unnamed."

Annoyed by his friend's disregard, Panthro grabbed one tattered end of his brown cloak, and spun the tiger violently around. "Face me!" The hood flew back, and revealed what it had hidden. Panthro staggered back in disgust. The architect had shorn his mane. With his removal of the powerful symbol of masculine tiger pride, Tygra had truly marked himself as an outcast. Any male tiger would have preferred death to such loss and condemnation. Had Tygra still roamed lost Thundera, any tiger crossing his path would have had the legal right to slay him in combat. The outcast had no place among his kind.

I never really believed that you would do this until now, Panthro decided with sorrow. The tiger's features carried a maddened serenity that embraced his shame. Talitha was correct. You have gone beyond the touch of reason.

But it shouldn't be so! he thought with increasing anger. She should have fought for you. There are no outcasts among those to whom the mystics have given refuge. She alone could have effectively fought Lion-o's decree. And it rested with her to have forced healing upon you. Damn tiger! How can you hunt with a wrist that has been broken? How can only one small pack of supplies sustain your needs?

The oppressive silence surrounded him as completely as the fog. He cried out at the disgraced Thunderan, "A'tri'i!" With one swift motion, he struck Tygra, and sent him reeling into the mists.

Panthro ignored the moans coming from the fallen tiger. He had torn his friend from his heart. "But how will I mourn his passing?" he sighed as he turned for home.

*****

He had gone. She had known it in the bitter expressions of the others in the Lair. She had felt it in the anger that afflicted her. They will have to deal with his leaving in their own way, Talitha decided. As for myself, I have a promise to keep, and duties to perform. The mystic brushed the dirt from her hands. She surveyed the rows of seeds that she had planted in the soil, and purred with satisfaction.

A garden in the honor of Mrísena. A place of healing that had begun with her. That was where her obligation now rested. Cultivating the fertile soil with her hands had helped her to handle her loss. For a few hours, she had forgotten the annoyance of her newly milk-laden breasts, and her sagging belly. With the nurturing of each seed, she had begun to fill the void in her soul left by her daughter's death and Tygra's banishment. In time, what she had given kindly to the earth would transform anger into forgiveness.

A seed appears dead in the winter. Yet with the arrival of spring, the hidden embryo within begins to grow. It reaches for the sun, and life. By the mercy of the goddess, Tygra will find his way home, and Lion-o will open his heart to him as I will. But that will not be today, or in a span of days, she thought unhappily. Healing comes in its own time.

A rising breeze made her shiver. Spring had not yet subdued the last days of winter with warmth. She gathered her cloak about her, and rose. The mystic approached the stone where her daughter had died. "You will be restored next," she said to the rock. "All who will come to worship Mrísena shall leave their offerings upon you.

"But that will have to wait until tomorrow. This day I must journey to the land of my sisters. Maybe Queen Willa will have a human child for me to nourish, and so hasten my recovery."

The mystic marked the blood stained spot where Slythe had fallen. Only traces of scales that glittered in the sunlight like small jewels and bits of leather clothing remained of the Mutant leader. The scratch marks on the ground indicated that scavengers had feasted on his corpse. The predators had done their job well.

She moved a few paces beyond the stone. The mystic knelt beside the small mound under which she had buried the remnants of her staff. "With your passing, I lost one more connection to Servalla and the past, but all things eventually pass. Your magic served me well."

She turned toward Cats' Lair. The fortress rose majestically above the plain and the forest. The feline form that Tygra had designed would inspire awe in the ages long past his death. The people would not soon forget the tiger despite his absence from Lion-o's realm. "Of this I am certain," she said to the colossus in the distance, "one day, he will return."