West Wind

Three females danced at dawn. From the council room high above the courtyard of Cats' Lair, Panthro watched their performance. The petite tigress and the tall cheetah synchronized the graceful movements of their exercise routine. Although still early in her pregnancy, Cheetara's slender form had already altered. He marked the curve of her abdomen under the loose robe and billowing cloak that she wore to keep out winter's chill. Panthro wondered when she would finally allow Talitha to confirm his suspicion that she carried twins. One cub he definitely believed Tygra had sired, but he suspected that the second had grown from the planting of his seed.

The snow leopard, clad simply in a loincloth despite the cold, spun and twirled to music only she heard. The metal braces that had assisted in the strengthening of her weak legs gleamed. Judging from the leaps that Chand'ra took, he knew that the mystics would soon pronounce her healed.

The soothing baritone that belonged to Talitha's mate distracted the panther from his enjoyment. Tygra said to the young lion seated across from him at the round table, "It took Panthro a long time to finally complete Feliner II, but it seems to me that his initial testing of the skycraft has succeeded. He has encountered no trouble on the short runs that he has made over the countryside. Why not let him venture across the sea, Lion-o? He will eventually have to make a longer journey to test our new vehicle to its fullest capacity."

Lion-o pondered the older Thunderan's words, but remained silent. Tygra gave the panther a pleading look which suggested that if he wanted to convince the king of the feasibility of his plan, the grey warrior should again comment on the necessity of a lengthy test flight.

Panthro reluctantly moved away from the row of arched windows and his pleasing view. He sat next to the youth. "My lord, you are well aware that besides wishing to test this skycraft's functioning over a greater distance, I desire to know whether Ba'sir has left Trinacria. It's been thirty risings of the sun since we brought the other Thunderans from his ship. The merchant should be skybound by now. I feel that we should make sure that he has gone on his way, and no longer remains on that island. If problems have befallen him, well, although Feliner II holds two comfortably, it can transport three in an emergency situation, providing one uses the small aft compartment." Considering Ba'sir's vast girth, Panthro silently thought to himself, the fit would be very tight. To overcome the king's caution, he added, "If you grant me permission to go, I promise you that I won't go alone." That ought to settle his concerns, he decided. And I already know who would make a very competent assistant: Chand'ra. He face grew warm as he considered the notion that he alone would have the company of the snow leopard for at least a day. I wonder if she will reveal more of herself to me. She can be talkative one moment, but so subdued the next.

Lion-o returned a broad smile. "When do we go Panthro?" he asked with excitement.

The panther flinched. The sudden agreement by Lion-o had not surprised him. The lion had often made snap judgements. That the king wanted to take the place of the person he had selected for the journey was something he had not anticipated, but something he should have expected. Damn you, Stripes, help me! he thought with alarm. He glanced at the architect, who had no insight into the strictly personal aspect of his plan.

Sensing his distress, Tygra hastily cleared his throat. "My lord, although Panthro doesn't anticipate a problem with the skycraft, it is ill conceived for you to go on this mission. As you have told me on several occasions, 'Your place is here.'"

The lion snorted, unconvinced. "Am I not a warrior and the Lord of the Thundercats?"

"We, your advisors, must place your safety above our own," Tygra continued with fervor. "The level of uncertainty in this mission is small, yet it still exists. It would be unwise and selfish of you to place yourself in unnecessary jeopardy. When the test has proven successful, I am sure that Panthro will gladly take you on an outing across the sea."

"Tygra is right!" the panther interjected.

Lion-o ran his hand through his thick red mane. He scowled at the grey Thunderan. "Seems I cannot fight the two of you. The skycraft must be tested, whether one will fly in it or two. You may go on your mission, Panthro. Will Talitha accompany you as before?"

"Yes, Panthro, will Talitha accompany you again?" Tygra repeated, his eyebrow arched sarcastically.

"No," the panther growled, wondering how many night watches he had earned by enlisting the tiger's help. "Chand'ra will come."

"But her legs--"

"She has the braces for protection. You and Talitha have mended the bones and tendons. The device is now merely a precaution until her legs have fully healed with exercise. You should look out the window and watch her dance up the sun. She's better than anyone in this Lair." Suddenly aware of his intensity, the panther grew silent.

Tygra leaned back in his chair. "Easy, Panthro. It is not my desire to block your wish, but I am concerned for Chand'ra's health. I'll sanction your choice if Talitha agrees. After all, she is the mystic with the most experience in this Lair."

His yellow robe brushing the floor, Lion-o strode toward the window. He gazed upon the females below. Addressing the panther, he said, "In this instance, unlike the last, healing is not a consideration. Speak to Talitha about Chand'ra. I will abide by her decision. Convince her that Chand'ra should go with you, and you'll have my approval. Otherwise, Panthro, be prepared to fly alone."

*****

The grey panther glided down the great staircase of Cats' Lair, the architect following in hasty pursuit. He came to a sudden halt, which caused Tygra to collide with his broad back. "Name of the gods, what now!" the striped Thunderan cried, struggling to keep his balance by trying to avoid tripping over the folds of his brown robe.

Pointing to the females sitting on the lowest steps, Panthro said, "Looks like trouble for Cheetara."

"Snr'y't!" the architect cursed, racing ahead.

Panthro proceeded at a normal pace toward the gathering of Thunderans. As he drew closer, Talitha's voice rose above the others. "Morning sickness is one matter, but I am concerned about these dizzy spells, Cheetara. You must finally agree to let me scan you!" she insisted, her airy voice cracking with irritation. The cheetah, her arms wrapped around her knees, and legs pulled close to her chest, sat in sulking silence.

"The mystic is right, swift one," the panther said, claiming the step above the cheetah for his perch. "Such an insignificant test to be run. What can be the harm? I have never known you to be fearful."

A pair of golden eyes regarded him with a frosty mixture of amusement and contempt that increased the frigidity that seeped from the stone through his trousers. "You speak to me at such length! I must remember what I have done to have garnered your attention," Cheetara said.

The rebuff cut like the blade of a thin, sharp knife. That was well deserved, Panthro decided. I may be partially responsible for her discomfort. Despite our precautions, it is possible that during her fertility, I might have also given her a cub. And I have indeed neglected her, for I have given Chand'ra much of my time.

He looked to the snow leopard, who stood at one corner of the step. She studied the forest in the distance, and took no position in the debate that raged around her. When did she capture my heart? he admitted with dismay. And how did she achieve this so quickly and expertly? The profound insight made him clench his hands nervously.

A hand touched his leg. The ire in Cheetara's voice had disappeared. "Forgive me, teacher," she said softly. "I have not been myself lately."

Panthro rested his hand above hers. "Neither have I," he admitted. She rewarded him with a chuckle. He patted her fingers. "Sooner or later, we are going to find out what roots have been simmering in your cooking pot. Why not let the tigers examine you? Mystic law demands that they keep your confidence."

Tygra gasped, "Cooking pot, indeed! What an insulting comment to make."

"I've taken no offense," Cheetara replied, "and neither should you. Panthro merely used an expression that betrays his eastern origins."

Talitha giggled. "In his day, my father Casaphi traveled to the Eastern City to trade the weaving from our village. He must have gone often enough because over the seasons he acquired the same idiom. It appears, Tygra, that you may have led too sheltered a life since you have never heard that turn of phrase."

The architect, uncomfortable with being the target of a jest, quickly diverted the subject back to the cheetah's health. "Do you surrender," he demanded, arms folded across his chest in challenge. "I should think that my opinion should carry some weight. After all, I sired your cub."

Twirling the long strands of her spotted mane, Cheetara nodded in agreement. Tygra sighed in relief, the tension disappearing from his squared shoulders. The smiling mystic clapped her hands in approval before helping the pregnant cheetah to her feet. Chand'ra finally turned her attention to the proceedings, but offered no assistance.

Panthro cleared his throat, ready to take advantage of the easement of the mystic's guard. Making sure that he used her true name, and not her nickname of "White", Panthro said politely, "Talitha, before you go, I have a request." Despite his frown, the architect allowed the panther to pursue his goal without hindrance. "I need a companion to travel with me this day on a test of Feliner II. I am returning to Trinacria."

"I can go with you after I examine Cheetara," she answered brusquely. "I would venture to guess that stubborn merchant is still stranded there."

"I don't want you," he said firmly, his patience thinning. "I want Chand'ra to accompany me."

"Why?" The softly spoken question, ripe with suspicion, had come from the reticent snow leopard, and not the mystic.

"Because I don't expect that we will have to heal anybody!" the panther yelled, putting his hands defiantly on his hips. "Now do you want to come!"

Chand'ra narrowed her grey-green eyes, and tilted her head slightly, a characteristic pose that he had discovered she assumed whenever she became pensive or mischievous. "Of course, my lord," she answered demurely, stressing the syllables in northern fashion. "My legs have improved, but it remains to be seen whether Lady Talitha will grant me this privilege."

The mystic glared at the panther. "At least Chand'ra recognizes my authority in this matter!"

"Talitha, there is no need to--"

"Do I detect a conspiracy, dear one," she barked at her beloved, who took a step back.

"I feel dizzy again," Cheetara interrupted, holding tightly onto the mystic's arm. "Can we perhaps go inside to settle this issue?"

"No need," the mystic grumbled. "Chand'ra can go with you, Panthro, but you must promise me that you will not tax her, and that you will return by tomorrow."

"I will see that he obeys," Chand'ra replied casually as the grey Thunderan cheered in victory.

*****

Panthro gazed down from the steep mountain slope to the plain below. Feliner II, its security shield activated, looked like a great, glowing beetle that had alighted on the arid landscape. He looked up to the arrow-shaped spaceship nestled on the pine-strewn ledge in the distance. The pace Ba'sir set for himself was too strenuous, Panthro decided. Although I thought he had a chance, he has obviously not succeeded in repairing his ship in thirty suns as I had predicted. His vessel is ripe with cargo, not gold. I am sure that he desperately wants to leave this world. Perhaps this time, he'll take with gratitude whatever help we can offer him, so that he can roam the stars once again.

The grey warrior checked the position of the sun. Since their arrival on Trinacria, morning had changed to afternoon. Winter once again made its icy presence felt through the rising winds. Despite his protective clothing and lined boots, Panthro shivered. He cursed his short fur, and wished he had not forgotten his gloves. He studied his companion with envy. Although her braces were now strapped over her soft boots, Chand'ra negotiated the rocks with the ease of one who was mountain-born. She also took no notice of the weather. When he had suggested that she wear more clothing than an ak'ti for the journey, she had bristled.

Since her arrival at the Lair, she had gained needed weight on the rich cooking that Snarf had supplied. The strong lines of her once emaciated features had softened. Although not beautiful, her plain face reflected her restored health. Her eyes blazed with fierce determination with every task she performed. Besides providing her with an insulating layer of fat, the nutritious diet had also restored the condition of her grey-white fur. She had deemed that a Third Earth winter was mild by northerner standards, and had argued that the thickened density of her fur would keep her adequately warm. Only with the help of both mystics, who threatened to rescind their permission to travel, was he able to coax her to wear a lighter version of the clothing that he wore. She had made sour his victory by retreating behind a wall of resentful silence. His hopes of learning more about her had faded as the day had lengthened.

Wispy clouds hid the sun. His fingers throbbed, and his legs ached from the changing weather. The supply pack that he had elected to carry had grown bothersome. He touched the female's shoulder as a signal to halt. "Let us take a moment to rest," he suggested reluctantly, his pride bent by the admission.

"We must continue," the snow leopard answered in turn. "We are almost to Ba'sir's ship. I am concerned that he has not hailed us. When we were in his company, he was always wary, although I never discovered what troubled him."

He had good reason to be watchful, a'drin'a, Panthro thought. He never told you about the warriors that climbed the mountain at night, or of their attack. He didn't inform you of the wound he had received from the night-walkers, or of the magic he had commanded to make them flee. And out of respect for him, and the promise that I made, you won't learn his secrets from me.

"Despite my weak legs, Ba'sir insisted that I frequently patrol the area while he worked on repairs, much the same as he had requested of you during your stay with him," Chand'ra continued. "Once we departed for Cats' Lair, I had hoped that the merchant would have possessed enough sense to set up a perimeter force shield as a precaution."

Considering the fact that Ba'sir is a powerful sorcerer, he would have laughed at that notion, Panthro thought, and then frowned. And just maybe, in his arrogance, he let his guard down, and fell. Keeping his voice low and calm to hide his fear, he said to Chand'ra, "He's probably in his ship. The day is still young, and he's more than likely having his afternoon meal. Considering the large belly he has to fill, he might be inside for some time."

She was unconvinced of his assessment of the situation. "He would have already seen us on his monitors," Chand'ra said firmly, dismissing his jest. "Something has gone wrong."

"Insight?" Panthro asked.

"Warrior training!" Chand'ra insisted.

The panther raised his palms in a gesture of peace. "I meant no insult," he said. "I have always respected female intuition, especially when the female I am consulting is a warrior and a priestess of Syrii." He pointed to the ship. "I'll cede the stone in this round to you. Let's approach with caution." Chand'ra gave him a curt nod of approval, and began to move forward.

Using boulders and trees for cover, they made their way up to the plateau where the ship rested. Crouching behind a stack of pines that the merchant's skycraft had felled during its emergency landing, they viewed the site.

The outer door to the skycraft was open, but the inner one was closed. Ba'sir has repaired the damaged section, Panthro thought, noting that metal that had once been torn was now smooth. If he were giving the entire hull a final check, he would have only closed the inner door for security. But it's too damn quiet. Even if he were on the opposite side of the ship, we would have heard him by now.

An uneasy feeling gnawed at the grey panther. Ba'sir is a mistrusting bastard. If he had decided to hunt, he would have definitely secured the outer port before leaving. He whispered to Chand'ra, "Something is amiss."

"Even though it was not damaged, we must also view the other side of the ship," the priestess replied, mirroring his thoughts, "but dare we risk exposure?"

"We have no choice, but we are not defenseless," Panthro answered, indicating the nunchaku hanging from his belt, and the knife tucked into hers. "You keep watch from here, and I'll--"

"Nonsense! What if an ambush awaits you? I cannot see through metal."

"But you have ears to listen for trouble!" he argued while he removed his pack, then hid it under some scrub.

"We go together, or not at all," Chand'ra demanded, paying no heed to his rank.

Panthro could not refute her logic. "Stay close!" he ordered.

The warrior and the priestess crept into the open area surrounding the spaceship. The cracking of a branch made them freeze in place. Two small birds darted above them. Relieved that the apparent threat was only a feathered one, they continued ahead until they reached the back end of the long vessel.

Chand'ra halted suddenly, and pulled the sleeve of Panthro's tunic. She pointed to the bare ground that the ship's landing had exposed. The Thundercat squinted, but could not discern what the snow leopard had seen. He shrugged his shoulders in confusion. The priestess crouched, and touched the earth. On the soil lay the faint trace of fresh footprints. "These are different from the old marks we have left. I thought that you said that this island was normally uninhabited," she remarked coolly. "It seems that the merchant had every right to be concerned for our safety." She held the Thundercat's gaze and asked, "Did you know?"

"Yes, but I pledged silence," Panthro answered, giving her only a partial truth.

The priestess returned a growl. "After we have found that fool, we will discuss this in more detail. For now, I ask you as an equal in warriorship: what should I know about this enemy?"

Drawing his nunchaku, Panthro replied, "Lacking fur, probably human. I didn't get a good enough look at the time to be sure. Primitive in attack."

Chand'ra took her knife from her belt. "Ready!" she declared.

Panthro led her to the opposite side of the vessel. The disarrayed earth now clearly recorded a battle. The hull of the ship indicated the deadly nature of the struggle. Blotches and streaks of dried blood marred the metal surface. They cautiously scoured the site for more evidence of what had occurred, and remained alert to any sign of danger. Chand'ra retrieved a stone, and showed it to Panthro. "Someone was good with a slingshot. I am guessing that Ba'sir was hit with this," she said, indicating the caked blood.

"Judging from the pattern on the hull, the rock probably connected with his skull, and he fell back."

"Although it appears that Ba'sir did not fall without fighting, he was wounded and outnumbered," Chand'ra added. "The intruders overwhelmed him quickly." She gestured toward the furrow of dirt that snaked toward the front of the vessel. "They landed a blow that rendered him unconscious. Then, they dragged him off."

"But to where?" Panthro asked.

"More importantly, why? They should have slain him where he lay."

"Revenge?"

"Did he ever kill any of there number?"

"His strategy was to frighten, not slay. For now, don't ask me how. If we find Ba'sir, you can question him."

Chand'ra frowned at his cryptic remark, but accepted his statement. She said, "It has been many suns since our leaving. During our absence, his hand may have been forced. He may have killed. Who can say what the enemy now has planned for the merchant."

Indicating the trail, Panthro conceded, "There is only one way to discover the truth. Let's hope that Ba'sir will still be alive to explain."

*****

"Look at these marks, my lord. It is obvious that the enemy has fled," Chand'ra said. She dragged a twig through the confusing mess of pine needles. "They headed down, and to the southwest."

The panther acknowledged his companion's statement with an irritated grunt. He stared intently at the furrow that Ba'sir's body had made. The depression in the earth had come to a sudden end. There was no other sign of the Thunderan or of his passing. Rubbing his foot into the soil, the Thundercat wondered what had happened to the merchant. He is a sorcerer. Assuming he was conscious, he could have hidden his movements, Panthro decided. He shook his head, and instantly negated the thought. Would he have been so thorough? He folded his arms in frustration. Given his condition, I'm surprised that he could call up any power to assist him. "We have missed something," he said to the priestess. "Let's fan out from this point. Ba'sir just didn't fly away."

"We should not separate," Chand'ra insisted. "Also, my lord, I must remind you that the day grows old. If we don't return to Feliner II, we must find a way past the security lock on the merchant's spaceship."

"Our best chance for survival is to find Ba'sir," Panthro argued in return, "for I'm sure that he has the key."

"Then choose a direction, my lord." The greying of her long eyes made the snow's leopard agitation evident. The tone of her voice indicated that she was as comfortable giving commands as following them. The flare of her nostrils and the tenseness of her pose made the panther's heart race. The warrior instantly berated himself for his lack of control. Clear thinking, not desire, is needed now!

He bent down and studied the marks more closely. There was no sign of the being that had scattered the enemy. Two choices presented themselves to him, each with disadvantages. If he followed the savages, he would not find Ba'sir; however, if he could capture a member of the band, he could gain information. But that's assuming they speak the common tongue, Panthro thought with derision. If he chose to locate the one who had outsmarted the warriors, he would probably find Ba'sir. But unless we find a sign, we have no idea where to hunt! He straightened and brushed the dust from his palms. We also have no idea of this being's strengths or weaknesses.

The Thundercat picked up a twig. He stripped the bark off one end, then handed it to Chand'ra, who stared at the piece of wood with perplexity. "Toss it, and let the gods decide our course," he said. "If the bare end points down the mountain, we trail the enemy. Otherwise, we follow the direction it indicates, and hope for the best." The snow leopard wrinkled her nose in disdain. Panthro remarked, "You said that I should chose, and now you question?"

Chand'ra lowered her eyes in embarrassment. "You are correct; you have your reasons."

"I have no thought as to the correct action, but this is better than taking no action," he admitted. He looked to the sky. We still have plenty of time before dusk. If after an hour of searching, the gods do not favor us, then we will return to Ba'sir's spaceship, and set up camp. He has locked the door from the inside by giving a specific code to the control panel. Perhaps we can figure out the code sequence, or at the worst, find a way to force the door open. In any case, if we are stuck in the open, we can use the terrain and the hull to our advantage."

"The plan is good, but you have forgotten one element. Tomorrow, we are supposed to return to Cats' Lair. What if we don't find Ba'sir?"

"In a situation such as this, time is the most important factor. We may already be too late to save Ba'sir's life. Although the journey back to Cats' Lair is not a long one, we cannot afford the delay to our search that a return would implement."

"Our radio has not the range to enable us to file a report. The others will be worried by our absence."

"Tygra and Lion-o know where we planned to travel. They can follow with the Feliner if they are concerned."

"They will be angry."

"Actually, we could use their help. Besides, they will forgive us once they understand why we chose to stay."

His last statement seemed to have finally made an impact on the female. She nodded gravely, then said, "We'd better continue our search, so we can give them a full report." She flung the twig. The peeled end pointed directly to the west.

"Guess we face the unknown, gods help us," Panthro muttered.

Chand'ra smirked. "Consider this, my lord. At least we will discover how a panther of Ba'sir's size can just disappear."

*****

The thick clot of pines cast the long shadows of a dying day. One black band fell across a large depression in the needle strewn floor. "Ba'sir rested here," Panthro said with certainty.

"I would only say that he had clearly lain on this spot," Chand'ra suggested, sifting through the needles. "Yet, how he reached this place is still a mystery. It is amazing that we have found any trace of him. For that, we must thank the gods. They know that our search is a just one."

"Maybe you should toss that stick again," the Thundercat replied. "It has proven true."

Chand'ra fingered the branch hitched to her belt. A wisp of her grey-white mane that had pulled free of her braid partially covered one eye. She brushed back the black-spotted lock in a slow manner that emphasized her fatigue and frustration. "If we continue, there is no way that we will be able to turn back, and reach his ship before nightfall," she warned.

Panthro set his hand on her shoulder, and felt the tension in the powerful muscles beneath the cloth. "You are as analytical as Tygra," he sighed, acknowledging her good sense.

Her thin lips parted in disbelief at his statement. The panther tried not too laugh at her comical expression. He said through a smile that he could not contain, "You cannot be untrue to your nature, a'drin'a." He studied the trees as if he believed that the merchant would suddenly appear, then said, "It is clearly wiser that we return, but I feel that we are so close to the answer."

Straightening, the snow leopard took the branch in hand. "Although his opinions can be disputed and dismissed, a leader's instincts must be trusted," she declared with only a trace of scorn. She made ready to throw the stick, but faltered. "Drop!" she shouted, pushing Panthro to the ground. His pack threw off his balance, and he flopped like an overturned turtle.

"Name of the gods, what in the seven hells!" The words stuck in the felled panther's throat. Apparently unhindered by the braces that confined her calves, the priestess moved with incredible speed, her body twisting and turning with supernatural precision as she grabbed arrows in flight, and rendered them useless. When the volley ceased, she gave an earsplitting roar that contained such fury that it made his blood freeze. By the thirteen saints! She is a jan'nirri! he thought with awe.

Although he could not understand their language, Panthro marked the cries of the startled warriors, fleeting shadows darting madly among the pines as they retreated. For a moment, he feared that Chand'ra in her rage would pursue the band alone, and slay all with the cold ferocity trained into an invisible warrior.

She stood her ground. To his distress, she suddenly dropped to her knees, the collection of arrows falling from her hands. The panther shoved aside the fear that his unexpected discovery had aroused. He righted himself, and approached the snow leopard with caution and concern. "A'drin'a?" he asked tentatively. The title seemed inappropriately light for one of her deadly skill.

"I am still out of condition," she admitted between heavy breaths.

"I would hate to see what you could accomplish if you were in prime form," he answered with reverence. He offered her his hand. She took his aide with reluctance, and stood. Her expression carried a sadness and dread that melted away his fear. I will ask her later, not now, he vowed. She deserves peace and privacy.

He made no further comment on the miracle she had accomplished, pretending that it had never occurred. Instead he said, "We must be close to finding the answer, or they would not have attacked us."

The relief in her deep voice indicated that she was willing to play his game. "Perhaps a few gained the courage to track us. They have been denied their prize."

The panther bent over, and retrieved the direction stick. "Well?"

*****

The Thunderans had continued tracking to the west until the sunlight had deepened to the golden hue that preceded twilight. The pines had thinned, leaving bare patches on the forest floor, but the frozen ground had shown no further sign of the merchant's passage. "I can't believe that the stick failed us," Panthro grumbled, signalling for a halt.

"It was always a gamble," Chand'ra answered, seating herself on a flat rock. "At least, we have tried."

The panther nodded in agreement. "We'd better think of ourselves now. Perhaps we can find a shelter."

Chand'ra pointed to an outcropping in the distance. "There is a good place to look," she suggested.

"Let's go then," Panthro agreed.

The slope became more irregular as they walked, shelves of stone jutting from the mountain's face. Intent on watching his footing, Panthro failed to notice that his companion had halted. It took several moments for the growing quiet to seep through his concentration. "Chand'ra?" he asked, turning to look behind. Not seeing the female, he cursed, and swiftly retraced his steps.

Chand'ra stared at a point further up the mountain where a break in the trees had allowed the fading sunlight to color the dark earth. "Why didn't you follow! I thought the enemy had gotten you!" Panthro hollered with more relief than anger. His reprimand did not break her impassive stance. He grabbed her. Before he could shake her, he found himself sprawled on the ground. He answered the warning that he read in her eyes. "Whether you are a jan'nirri or not, I am still the leader!"

"Then act like one," she said softly "Trust me to behave as befits my office as a priestess of Syrii, and not as a jan'nirri."

Sorrow had given weight to her words. She has admitted it! Panthro thought with amazement. His rage drained away, and he felt ashamed.

Chand'ra gestured toward the patch of light and said, "I am sorry to have caused you distress. It was unintentional. I became engrossed by that innocent spot because it does not exist." His face must have betrayed his bewilderment, for the snow leopard laughed, then added, "I believe it to be an illusion. Jan'nirri are very good at detecting them."

Does she know about Ba'sir and his tricks? Panthro wondered, or does his magic confuse even jan'nirri eyes. He couldn't be sure if the female had discovered the merchant's ability to shape-change since Ba'sir truly became the form he assumed, and did not create an illusion. He was not about to free the secret that he had promised the merchant that he would keep. The panther pondered the dangers the current development presented, and decided to trust the female. He dropped his pack behind a rock for safekeeping. "Follow me," he said, proceeding up the slope.

As they approached the light, Chand'ra said, "Please allow me to prove my point."

Determination radiated from the priestess with the intensity of flame. Warrior pride fueled with desire made war with his need to protect her. Panthro marked the hard muscles of her forearm as Chand'ra clenched the dagger that she held, and made his decision. "Be careful! Remember that I am right behind you."

"Thank you!" she answered with the deadly confidence inherent to a master of her art. She flew up the slope with the speed of a striking serpent. In an instant she disappeared into the sunlight.

"Name of the Gods! Chand'ra!" Panthro called in alarm, dashing after her. Forgetting fear, he leapt into the deceptive glade.

The sudden change in light blinded him, and he cried out in surprise. A stern, feminine voice assured him that although there appeared to be no danger, he should try to be quiet. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he found Chand'ra amidst the shadows. The apprehension drained from his body, replaced by curiosity.

They had found a cave, but not the individual responsible for the magic. Judging from the low level of the ceiling, he had barely missed scraping his skull when he entered. Although the illusion placed upon the refuge had hidden it from the outside, the spell had not effected his view from the inside. He could peer through the jagged entranceway, and watch all that transpired below the ledge if he chose.

"Shall we explore?" Chand'ra asked softly, indicating a passage barely discernable in the darkness at the rear of the oval chamber. "With this dirt floor, we might find some tracks."

"Not without a light," he whispered. "We need the pack. I'll be back in a moment."

When he returned, Panthro fished out a small tube from the bag. He struck it across his palm. The clear plastic vial suddenly blazed green-yellow.

"Sorcery?" the snow leopard queried, continuing to keep her voice low. "It doesn't have the color of a glow ball."

"Science," the panther answered, setting the pack against the wall. "One of Tygra's concoctions. You'll have to ask him for the specifics. Bioluminescence is not a subject with which I have great familiarity. I'm an engineer."

"Name of the gods, what doesn't the tiger know?" she said with exasperation. "He's an architect, a physician, a mystic, and the king's councillor."

"The cub can still stand to learn a few things," Panthro said with a chuckle as he moved toward the opening. "I would wager that you could beat him easily in a game of silk and stones. He is not a strategist."

The panther poked the gleaming wand into the passage. The light shone down a long, wide corridor. "Bigger than I thought, and it twists off to the left."

"Maybe to another chamber."

"We can't know unless we check," Panthro replied reluctantly. He turned to the female and shook the wand at her. "You stay behind me."

"Yes, my lord," she answered with a huff. As they crossed into the passage, he heard her mumble, "Someone has to protect your stubborn back."

The first twist in the passage was not the last, but fortunately the path did not branch. Soon it began to grow noticeably wider. As they approached another sharp turn, they could see a faint glow. Panthro silently passed the wand to Chand'ra. He pointed to the turn, and then to himself. Chand'ra gave him a nod, indicating that she understood his plan.

The Thundercat inched forward. He crouched, then peered into the opening. "All the gods!" he exclaimed loudly, and straightened.

The light behind him grew as Chand'ra swiftly reached his side. "Praise the Gods," she said, looking through the opening. "Against the odds, we have found him."

The squarish chamber before them was far larger than the first, and lacked any additional openings. In one corner, a huge figure, covered from waist to ankle by a dull brown blanket, lay on fringed rug bordered by rectangular spirals. The strange net that covered Ba'sir's maneless head glittered silver. His breathing indicated that the merchant, whether asleep or unconscious, still lived. In another corner, three glowing balls floated peacefully above a small table upon which rested a corked bottle, a wedge of cheese, and a loaf of bread. The chair near the wall added homeyness to the unusual setting.

"Obviously someone has helped Ba'sir escape the enemy," Panthro declared, his voice returning to its normal volume since the need for caution had passed.

"I'll look for other signs; you see to the merchant," Chand'ra replied, and began to examine the floor. "When I finish," she continued, "I'll keep watch in the outer chamber. We don't want his savior to mistake us for another enemy."

"Good thinking," Panthro admitted as he knelt beside the merchant. "If you meet his friend, you know enough of the common tongue to keep yourself out of trouble."

"And if the person doesn't speak the trade language."

"You'll have to improvise. Should be easy for a jan'nirri."

"Not when dealing with a sorcerer!" she complained.

Leaving his companion to her grumblings, Panthro studied the unusual net. It appeared to be made of gold filaments which snaked around many colored gems that shimmered silver. The Thundercat touched a violet oval. The polished stone also radiated moderate heat. Beneath the fine threads, Panthro noted a dried wound across the merchant's temple. "This device is a healer's tool, no doubt," he muttered to himself. "I'd wager that Talitha would find this fascinating." He placed his fingers against the merchant's neck, and probed the thick flesh for a pulse. When he found one, he judged the beats. Not too fast or too slow, he decided. Good. Now the body. The panther found some minor cuts on the merchant's arms that knives had made, but these wounds too had already become little more than dried lines on the black skin beneath his thin fur. The absence of bruises on the merchant's torso amazed the Thundercat.

"Not a single boot mark!" Chand'ra growled in annoyance. "His friend must be a ghost!"

Satisfied with the stability of Ba'sir's condition, Panthro walked toward the table. He grabbed the loaf, and sniffed it. "Easy, Chand'ra. I'm sure his friend will soon return to roost, for the night comes. We can ask our questions then." He tore a piece off the loaf. "Here. Have some. It smells all right," he said, tossing the chunk to the priestess, who caught it with ease.

"Before I begin my watch, I'd better retrieve the pack for you," she said between bites.

As the priestess, light wand and bread in hand, headed for the passage, Panthro barked, "I expect to hear a shout if there's trouble!"

*****

Sitting on the ground, the Thundercat inspected the articles that he had laid on a rectangle of cloth. "Water canister, dried meat, bandages, glow sticks, spare knife, empty pack," he said, accounting for each item. He turned to the object at his side. "And most important, the heater to keep out the cold." He placed the squat, round instrument near Ba'sir's feet. He pushed a button, and the device began to purr. Its dreary yellow light did little to dispel the shadows.

"Good," Panthro said to the unconscious merchant in an attempt to relieve the boredom that Chand'ra's absence had generated. "Sounds just like a kitten. Hope this will warm your toes. That blanket just isn't big enough to cover you properly, and although I am concerned about your welfare, I am not about to give up my cloak."

No change in the merchant's condition rewarded the panther's words or efforts. Don't know when he will come out of his "sleep", so I might as well get comfortable, Panthro decided. He crossed the short distance to the chair, and sat. Although a sturdy piece of furniture, the wood creaked under his weight. The muscles of buttocks complained about the hard surface and the inadequate depth of the seat. After few minutes, the Thundercat surrendered, and stood. This wasn't designed for a male, he thought, or at least not one as solid as me. He chuckled. Even if Ba'sir thought to sit upon it, I'm sure the chair would collapse itself to be spared the indignity of supporting his bulk. The amusing image immediately fled from his mind when a muted voice that sounded higher than the snow leopard's echoed from the passage.

Panthro listened carefully, and tried to count the footfalls. "Two sets?" he whispered with uncertainty. The voice sounded female, but the rhythm of the unclear words matched neither the language of Thundera nor that of the common tongue. Unsure of the situation, the panther readied his nunchaku. He found a dark corner, and waited.

"Do not fear Panthro. All is well!" This time the voice, an alto colored with a Thunderan accent, belonged to Chand'ra. She emerged from the passage with another figure. Her companion drew back the hood of her cloak. The petite figure robed in dark green was a human female. Her large features and smooth olive skin gave her square face a timeless quality. Although she wore her long black hair in a tight braid, the strands that had pulled free coiled gently against her brow. Her left hand tapped the strap of the cloth satchel hung over her right shoulder.

Securing the nunchaku back on his belt, the panther appeared from his hiding place. "Greetings!" he said to the woman with the most formal tone that he could muster.

The woman regarded him with a hint of amusement that her brown eyes betrayed. "You speak the trade tongue far better than your sister," she said. Her accent was thick, but also familiar, and she addressed him with the ease of one unafraid of his commanding presence.

Panthro quickly searched his memory for the name of the country indicated by the lilt of her voice, but failed. Maybe in time it will come to me, he thought with annoyance. He gestured toward the prone figure of the merchant. "You have helped him?"

"Yes. I suspect that he will awaken soon, certainly no later than the next dawn. The physis should have finished mending the fracture on his skull. That was the worse of his wounds, the one that had endangered his life."

"You speak of the net?"

"Yes, a tool used by one versed in medicine."

"And sorcery too?"

"Is that so terrible?" the woman answered smoothly. "It saved Ba'sir's life."

"Chand'ra knows enough of the language to have given you our names. You have the advantage over us on this matter. Let us be on even footing. What are you called?" Panthro rumbled.

She proclaimed, "Some days ago, I rescued Ba'sir from his captors. A vivid illusion can accomplish great results. I have worked hard this day to protect this section of forest with magical wards since, unfortunately, the warriors who attacked Ba'sir have resumed their prowling. I will give you my name, and I will tell you more, but not until I have eaten."

The little woman's irritating manner and fearless demeanor stunned the panther into silence. Chand'ra complained, "The words go too fast for me too follow. I will return to my watch. Call me, Panthro, if you decide you really need me."

By Jaga's nose, when did I become outmatched by stubborn females? Panthro wondered. "Chand'ra remain!" he said more harshly than he had intended. Although the snow leopard glared, she obeyed, and sat near their supplies. Trying to make light of his command, Panthro explained, "How do you expect to learn the language if you don't practice?"

Although her unyielding expression did not change, the priestess answered, "In this, you are correct."

Easy, Panthro, he chided himself. No matter her fearlessness, she's still recovering from her ordeals and is probably more tired than she is letting you know. Despite her attempt to be forbidding, he caught a glint of respect in her eyes. A rush of pride made him heady. He calmed the intense feeling by returning his attention to the woman. "Do what you will," he said.

With a faint smile, she replied, "I always do."

Panthro approached Chand'ra. The snow leopard took a piece of dried meat, and offered it to him. "Sit," she commanded, the anger disappearing from her tone when he complied with her request.

The woman made no comment on the diminishment of her food supply, and seated herself on the chair. When she had eaten her fill of cheese and bread, and had quenched her thirst with the dark wine in the bottle, she spoke. "My name is Tassos," she said. "I originally come from another island in this great sea."

"Your accent! Now I have it placed," Panthro replied with satisfaction. "You are not starborn, like Aidan and Althea, but you come from the same region."

"To be specific, Rhodos. Idoea is the land of the starborn." She glanced down at the dirt floor. The sudden slump of her shoulders conveyed more than fatigue. "Our home was never as beautiful or as peaceful as theirs. That is why I fled to Trinacria. I grew tired of war. As a healer, I was obligated to care for the wounded, but I broke my oath by leaving. I no longer wanted to heal warriors, so that they could be returned to war and death." The pensive look she returned softened. "That was five years ago, and I have not regretted my actions until recently."

Melancholy had grown around her. The panther quickly narrowed his list of questions, ejecting those that would directly pry into her personal affairs. If I'm lucky, he decided, maybe she will trust me, and volunteer some information. I'd like to know the nature of her magic; I'd like to know what ship she used to traverse the sea. It would seem impossible for one small woman to have traveled so far alone.

"You are no enemy to us. You need not say anymore. However you managed to learn of his plight, we are grateful that you have helped Ba'sir. A war not of our making has taken its toll on my people. You preserved our dying race a little longer by saving his life."

Even in the low light, he could discern that his last statement had intrigued her. "I'm sure that your story is far more interesting than mine. Ba'sir fell from the sky like a god. The ancient legends tell of such flying ships. Some, it was recorded, voyaged to the stars. From the day his vessel crashed into the mountain, I have watched. My krystallos showed me all. When I entered the cave, and Chand'ra appeared, although I was startled, I called not for my magic because I immediately recognized her. When I did not threaten her, she put down her knife. With gestures, she agreed to follow me to this chamber. Of course, I recognized you, for I had also seen your first arrival in the other sky vessel." Her dark eyes fixed on the merchant, and Panthro knew that she had penetrated Ba'sir's disguise. "Although I do not speak your native tongue, I have learned by observation enough of its patterns to guess your names."

The woman stretched and yawned. "This cave has provided a safe haven, but it is not comfortable. A nice fire and a warm bed. For five days, I have dreamt of such comforts."

"You have a cottage then?"

"Yes, at the base of the northwest slope, a well protected site. But soon I may have too move. AEtna grumbles."

"AEtna?"

"The mountain. Surely on your last visit you saw the steam plume. She awakens again."

When he and Talitha had first met Ba'sir, the black panther had seemed unperturbed about the volcano. He had attributed the release of gases as a positive sign that it would not explode during his stay. Still concerned for the merchant's safety, Panthro had reported the incident to Tygra on their return to the Lair. The tiger had checked the starborns' library. The architect had concluded that given the mountains past history, it could take many seasons before it to finally chose to blow. "How soon?" Panthro asked in alarm, not having been prepared to consider the possibility of a sudden eruption.

"There is no way to predict, but the earth has begun to tremble, and that is not a good sign. The last time that AEtna grew angry, the records tell us that she freed this island of the last inhabitants."

"Gods be blessed," Chand'ra murmured.

"You understood?" Panthro asked her in Thunderan.

"About the mountain, yes, but little else. She uses her hands as she speaks, and that has helped."

"Don't worry, I'll fill you in completely later." He smiled. "However, you're actually doing well." The snow leopard gave him a pleased nod.

He said to Tassos, "You must leave if you believe AEtna will get angry. Ba'sir will return your healing with ingratitude. He will not take you with him because he is indeed a star wanderer like those in your legends. You can come with Chand'ra and me to Cats' Lair. Our home is on the mainland, and south of Tabbia. There are starborn who are our neighbors. All who live in our region would welcome another healer, especially one of your skill."

She gave him a crooked smile. "For now, my place is here. I have labored on wedding medicine to magic for five years. The physis is my invention. I still have my boat anchored off the coast in a place of safekeeping. I can leave on my own if I desire, and search for another home."

Her dismissal angered the panther. "Why are you being so difficult!"

Her amusement vanished, replaced by the fire burning in her dark eyes. "You are one for quick judgements," she said. "In my country, war made a mockery of my skill. There was no time to help the less fortunate of the land, those innocents trapped in the deadly games of men. The law demanded that I care only for female warriors. Were it not for my noble rank, physician training would have been denied me. Few females have earned the right to practice, but someone must tend the warriors that share our gender. No man would do it." She laughed, and the sound carried the sharp edge of steel. "I learned early to circumvent the rules, and help the lower classes. For that effort, a secret society of my sisters rewarded me with knowledge of the magical arts." Her sadness returned, and overshadowed the passion in her words. "They must believe me to be a traitor because I left Rhodos to save my sanity, but I no longer care what they think of me. I will never go back to Rhodos."

But you cannot hide your guilt because it shades your every word, Panthro thought sympathetically. If only you could talk to Tygra or Talitha, I am sure that you would find some comfort. They have suffered too, for no healer goes unwounded.

With halting words, Chand'ra suddenly asked, "Old you are?"

"Even though you belong to one of the stranger races that I have encountered, you are a sister, and I will answer," Tassos replied. She glared at Panthro, then added, "I would tell no male, but you are not of the human race, and so I cannot judge you by that standard."

The panther didn't know whether to be honored or insulted by the remark, so he remained silent. Males and females of our kind are often at odds, but not, it seems, to the extent that her people are, he decided.

"I am forty years old," Tassos answered, "soon to be forty-one."

Chand'ra counted on her fingers, then asked Panthro, "I heard 'forty'. That makes her twenty seasons by our reckoning. That is middle-life for a human, is that not so?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?" Tassos asked with curiosity.

"Our people live far longer than humans. She asked if you were middle-aged, and I concurred."

Laughing, the woman stood. "Tell her I was born a crone. I never pursued the follies of youth. My life was never my own until I seized it and came to Trinacria."

The panther related her answer to Chand'ra. "I can understand how she feels," the priestess said sadly. "Our lives have followed similar paths."

Maybe one day you will enlighten me on that point, Panthro thought, but you have yet to trust me completely.

"I, for one, can use some sleep," Tassos said abruptly. "The workings of magic are tiring."

"Chand'ra and I will alternate a watch in the outer chamber."

"Possessing a feline nature, I would imagine that your eyes can see far better in the dark than mine. However, it is not necessary to post a guard. I have warded the area well. The enemy will not bother us."

Panthro snorted in disapproval. "One of us will keep watch in this chamber," he said firmly.

"If you insist, I'll will make that bargain with you, otherwise I can see that I will be up all night trying to reason with a rock, but you alone must keep guard. Chand'ra is a female, and is therefore too wise to submit to your paranoia." She placed her hand on one slim hip in defiance.

To his surprise, Chand'ra did not protest. Panthro thought, If the a'drin'a has not fully understood the woman's statement, I can mislead her, then purposely neglect to awaken her for a watch. If she has understood and agreed with Tassos, there is no problem. Convinced that in either scenario, he had gotten his way, the Thundercat let the woman's insult pass. "Good. However, for having denied me sleep, I will not let you rest until you have answered two more questions for me."

The healer raised an eyebrow in contempt. "I'll consider it," she said, "but I will make no promises."

He gave her a fierce grin. "Female, if you fight as well as you barter...."

"I would be quite a danger," she answered with a calmness that made the panther uneasy.

The snow leopard tugged Panthro's sleeve. "All the gods of Thundera, when will you ask her how she got Ba'sir here!"

"Indeed that was my first question," he said to the priestess. He repeated the inquiry to Tassos.

The woman pointed to the rug. Panthro exclaimed in disbelief, "Female, are you expecting me to believe that you dragged him all this way!"

Tassos shouted a command he guessed to be in her native language. The fringes of the rug suddenly wiggled. In an instant, the carpet began to rise until it floated several feet above the ground. Although the merchant's considerable weight made the rug sag, it still supported him. Tassos grabbed a corner, and pulled. The carpet moved forward easily as if it carried nothing.

"Amazing!" Chand'ra gasped.

Tassos gave another command, and the rug descended slowly until it once again came to rest. She folded her arms. "Your second question, cat," she said smugly.

Trying to hide his astonishment at such a display of sorcery, Panthro said in a gruff voice. "What of the enemy? We know how you came to be here, but what of them?"

The woman's demeanor changed, and she became serious once again. "Although they have caused trouble, it is hard to hate them. You see, they are men and women from the island of Britannica, which is located in the ocean that spreads west of the sea. Their home is far to the cold north. Last year, the ship that attempted to transport them to the slave markets of the east crashed against the rocks on the western edge of this island. I saw it all in the krystallos. Their masters died, but they survived and thrived. They never discovered my dwelling, and I left them alone. The recent rumblings of AEtna had caused them to remain in safety in the west. The trouble began when Ba'sir's ship fell from the sky. Despite their fear of the volcano, they came to the east. They obviously viewed Ba'sir as a threat. They found their courage and attacked. The last raid caught the prosperous one by surprise."

Thank the gods that she did not reveal how Ba'sir defended himself during the earlier attacks! I will tell Chand'ra only what she needs to hear, Panthro decided, hoping to keep the merchant's secret, and praying that the snow leopard's lack of fluency had hindered her understanding of this point.

He said to Tassos, "You have truly earned your rest this day. Although some details are missing from your account, I will not bother you with more questions."

The little woman bent over, and brazenly tapped her finger against his chest. "That is well. However, know this: at the dawn's light, I expect to learn of your people, the cat-men who sail the stars."

*****

Panthro struggled against the silence which tried to lull him to sleep. He considered the information he had gained about Tassos, and fought to stay awake by filling in the gaps in his knowledge with guesses. He paced when his body grew too heavy with fatigue, rejecting the suddenly seductive comforts of the hard chair. The dirt floor obtained a shallow groove from his march back and forth across the chamber. He cursed the foolish bargain that his pride had tricked him into accepting, and worried how he would stay awake long enough to pilot the skycraft the next day. He glanced at the two peacefully sleeping females lying on the large rug. They had positioned themselves on either side of the merchant, whose bulk warmed them. With each slow minute that passed, his envy of Ba'sir grew. To have Chand'ra by my side in such a way, that would be pleasure, he admitted to himself. Has the Lady who weaves Fate truly woven our paths together? he wondered uncomfortably. Can I ever accept that Chand'ra is a jan'nirri?

The panther slumped against a wall. The slowing rhythm of his own breathing pulled him effortlessly down toward sleep. The sound of a softly spoken curse struck him like a pail of cold water.

"Snr'y't, ky'ril," Ba'sir rumbled. "Not only do you invade my dreams, but you bring company!"

"Silence!" Panthro murmured, padding toward him. "Let the females rest." After a second's consideration, he added, "How do you fare?"

Ba'sir gasped, "This is no dream!" Sitting upright, the merchant put his palm to his head. With a quick motion, he tore off the physis. The light from the stones slowly faded in his hands. Dropping the net, he rose to his feet so smoothly that the two females remained undisturbed by his movements. "One I know, and one I do not," he said as he looked upon them. He rubbed his fleshy chin thoughtfully as if calm regard could clear his confusion. He stretched, and said decisively to the Thundercat, "Mystery or no, I feel well...except for thirst and hunger."

Despite his fatness, the merchant had obviously endowed his chosen form with sexual equipment that would be the envy of any male. "Thundera's bones, cover yourself!" Panthro whispered forcibly, pointing to the discarded covering.

Ba'sir retrieved the brown blanket resting by his feet with the casual, unconcerned manner of a lord, and stepped silently off the rug. "I am sorry that my form does not please you, ky'ril, but then, it was never meant to be pleasing to anyone but me." He chuckled, then continued, "And, of course, a few individuals and races who possess an appreciation of abundant flesh; however, such a quality is, I'm afraid, a rare one." He took a deep breath, and held it while he struggled to secure the rectangle of fabric. "Name of the gods!" he exclaimed after he exhaled. His paunch draped over the tied corners which pressed into his hip. The bottom of the fabric reached only to his thighs. "So small a piece of cloth! The longest length was not wide enough to encircle my waist properly, and I barely managed to hitch the thing across my hips."

"The problem is a too fat panther," the Thundercat suggested, leaning against the wall. He noted with curiosity the two vertical streaks of white fur that marked either side of the merchant's deep navel, and stood in sharp contrast to the otherwise black color of his pelt.

Upon hearing the insult, Ba'sir straightened to his full height, which measured a foot above the top of Panthro's head. Glaring at his adversary, he snapped, "When you are through hurling insults, ky'ril, perhaps then you will tell me what happened to my garments. And, if you would, please tell me what in the cats-eyed cosmos happened to me after that damn rock hit my skull!"

Beneath the merchant's humor and bravado, the Thundercat sensed fear. After the enemy felled you, you lost control, Panthro thought, and that, my arrogant friend, was an unsettling experience for you. His uncharitable mood changed to one that sympathy tempered. "The furless one saved you, not I," he replied. "She has powers at least the equal of yours. After the warriors dragged you off, to do only the gods know what with you, she scared them away with her magic." He indicated the rug. "By some miracle, she got that under you, and the rest was easy."

Ba'sir proudly placed both his hands against his wide waist. "Given her size, it couldn't have been easy," he insisted.

"The rug can fly."

The merchant's mouth opened in disbelief, and the Thundercat reveled in shocking him. "She repaired that thick skull of yours with the physis."

"The net of stones?"

"Yes."

Ba'sir touched his skull, and traced the crusted wound. "The device is good, but not perfect. If I don't want a scar, I will have to perform some healing on my own."

"Ingrate!"

"Realist," Ba'sir corrected with an indifferent, but weary tone. "Any wine in that bottle?" he said pushing the discussion in a new direction.

Too fatigued himself to argue the point further, Panthro answered coolly, "You'll have to find that out for yourself. I'm getting some sleep. You and Tassos have won."

"Tassos?"

"The woman," Panthro replied as he sat on the dirt floor.

"Woman?" Ba'sir said, repeating the unfamiliar word carefully.

Getting as comfortable as he could against the rough wall, Panthro admitted, "I had to tell Chand'ra about the warriors, what little I knew. She will want to know how you defeated them in the past. Better think of an explanation. I've not told her of your sorcery, and she doesn't understand the woman's language to the degree that I do, so this barrier has worked in your favor. However, I believe that Tassos has discovered your secret by her own magical means."

The merchant set the bottle down on the table without testing it. His expression grew somber. "I can do nothing about the woman's knowledge, except trust that, as a fellow sorcerer, she will say nothing. With Chand'ra I have some hope of preserving my secret. She is a jan'nirri."

"By the gods, how did you know!"

"She will respect my silence on this point."

"Why should she?" Panthro demanded.

"All I have to do is this." He made a quick series of gestures. "That should answer both of your questions, ky'ril."

"You cannot be!" The merchant's revelation shocked him back into wakefulness, and he leapt to his feet. "Why have you not told me this before."

"Easy, cub," Ba'sir chided. "There is no need to upset yourself. Is it really so surprising to you? Think like the warrior you are. How could I move this bulk so easily if I were not jan'nirri trained. Besides, the matter was not of your concern."

Panthro thought back to his first encounter with the merchant, and the tale that Ba'sir had told him of his youth. "Your father was your teacher?"

"Excellent! Very astute. My father was a priest of Savar, but he was also in service to the king as a jan'nirri. You know that such warriors usually work in pairs. On one mission, his counterpart died unexpectedly. To preserve certain royal secrets, my father allowed himself to be declared a'tri'i. To reward his loyalty, and his sacrifice, the village of outcasts where he decided to settle and offer his services as a priest was never bothered by anyone." Ba'sir looked beyond the grey panther to a place that only existed deep within his memory. "My father began my training. Despite my status and my mixed blood, he hoped that I could enter the king's service. As you know, the slavers put an end to his dream. I had to complete my training as best as I could." He gestured toward the snow leopard. "She is a priestess of Syrii, but also a jan'nirri. I knew it from the day that I rescued her. Never did her guard go down; not a movement did she waste." He grinned sheepishly. "My disguise must be good. What you have told me convinces me that I fooled her. She has also never guessed that I have jan'nirri ways, but I will gladly give that information if she questions me. In this way, I can preserve the secret of my sorcery."

"The truth is lost amidst the games played within games," Panthro commented bleakly.

"We call that Life, young one," Ba'sir answered with a throaty chuckle. He shifted his attention back to the table, and gathered the remaining food and drink in his arms. He considered sitting on the chair, then shook his head from side to side in refusal. He moved against the wall, and slowly lowered himself to the ground. Once settled, he said to the Thundercat, "Although you are not as well equipped for this task as I, go and keep the females warm."

"The heater is sufficient," Panthro argued. "They do not need me." He put distance between himself and the merchant, and selected a place to rest on the opposite side of the chamber.

Ba'sir drained the bottle of its contents, then wiped his mouth with his thick hand. He held the grey panther's gaze, and said quietly, "If Chand'ra were my mate, I would be honored to warm her."

Panthro's hands curled in anger at the subtle insult. Having roused his ire, the merchant's dark green eyes flickered in satisfaction. "X'trint!" the Thundercat swore.

Ba'sir's upper lip twisted in disdain. "Curse me if you will, ky'ril, but the only way to win the game is to never lose sight of the truth."

Panthro considered slamming his fist into the sneering, fleshy lips that mocked him. He grimaced. He had no right to return the insult with a blow, for Ba'sir had spoken the truth that he had resisted.

As if he could read his thoughts, the merchant gave him a knowing nod, and relinquished his attack. "The rug is very soft," Ba'sir said with surprising gentleness. "It is far better than this hard earth."

Panthro gave a reluctant grunt of assent, as gracious a signal of defeat as he could manage. He crossed over to the carpet, and lay between the two females. Although his body was a nervous knot of muscle, his worries swam away, and he sank into the sea of sleep.

*****

The rich aroma of broiled meat mixed with the more delicate scents of bread and vegetables. Panthro considered eating the orange and purple fruit that rested in a wide bowl amidst other strange comestibles. The fullness of his stomach suggested that he had eaten more than enough to satisfy his hunger. He glanced at the merchant who had consumed twice as much as him. Ba'sir relaxed on a high-backed chair, his hands nestled against his curving abdomen, a comfortable look on his plump face. Although he could not be certain, Panthro decided that the merchant had won his gamble with the females, for he displayed a peaceful state of mind.

The Thundercat glanced at the woman seated to his left. His respect for her had grown since she had not chided him for failing to keep his bargain. Secretive Chand'ra, whatever she had or had not understood of his agreement with the human, had also not condemned him.

Smiling, Tassos said to him, "Tell your friend that he sets an excellent table. With my austere way of life, I had almost forgotten how wonderful good food can be."

"Thank you," Ba'sir answered suddenly with pride.

The snow leopard immediately admitted to the panther. "Ba'sir learned the phrase from me. Since I was awake before either you or Tassos this morning, he and I made the time pass with talk. I gave him some useful phrases of the trade language."

Since he had awakened last, the panther wondered again not only what words had passed between the two jan'nirri, but what Tassos, regardless of the language barrier, might have inadvertently revealed to Chand'ra. If the a'drin'a trusts me, she'll eventually tell me whatever she can, he finally decided. I will follow Talitha's methods: patience, not force, works best.

To the astonished woman, Panthro said, "Ba'sir did not understand your words, but I'm sure that he read your compliment in the satisfaction on your face, and the pleasure in your voice. Chand'ra taught him the correct response."

Tassos blushed shyly when Panthro conveyed the message. An elbow nudged the grey panther in his right side. The priestess demanded, "What rudeness have you inflicted on her to make her skin change so!"

"I have done nothing!" Panthro insisted, while Ba'sir, slapping the long table, laughed heartily at the warrior's discomfort.

When the merchant's mirth had ended, he said to the Thunderans, "I have a gift for the woman. Please excuse me for a moment while I get it." The consumption of a heavy meal made him rise slowly from his chair, but with long, easy strides, he exited the ship's dining chamber swiftly.

"I need a stretch myself," Chand'ra said. "The wards that Tassos has placed have served us well. Not one warrior bothered us this day. With your permission, Panthro, I am going outside for a brief walk."

The Thundercat flicked his wrist, an affirmative signal, and the snow leopard departed. After their long trek from the cave to the merchant's skycraft, the interrogation by Tassos regarding the nature of Thunderans, and the abundance of food Ba'sir had provided, he was in no mood to accompany her. A healthy laziness kept him fixed to his chair.

Panthro regarded Tassos. The woman seemed equally content, but tired. She put her small hand over her mouth to hide her yawn, her nose wrinkling in an amusing fashion. "You can't fall asleep," he teased gently. "Our host would be crushed."

The woman laughed. "Nothing could crush that one's spirit," she answered. "Imagine creating such a feast after what he has suffered! What other surprises does he have hidden under those voluminous robes."

"You should not be so judgmental considering the tricks that you showed us this morning," Panthro said, shaking his finger at her.

Tassos grinned. "Ah, but those I accomplished with my wand. It cost me little effort."

"I thought that Ba'sir would faint when you took his clothes from your satchel, and presented them to him. Yes, you had cleaned them in a nearby stream, but then you had reduced them with your wand to a size that not even a cub could wear." He added with admiration, "That was a fine jest."

The woman's eyebrows arched with mischief. "How else did he or you think that I could have carried the items from my home to the cave! Without reduction, it would have been impossible for me to have transported any of those things. And without my enchanted boots, I could never have hidden my trail."

Her comical expression and her explanation tinged with feigned hurt made the panther laugh. A victim of her own ploy, Tassos began to giggle. The swishing of the door quickly silenced them, for neither one wished to insult their host.

Ba'sir took his place at the head of the table. Pushing the dishes aside, he set a small wooden chest on the red cloth. He said to Panthro, "If you would be so kind as to translate for me, I should like to express my gratitude to the woman."

"Go ahead," the Thundercat replied, "but don't talk too fast."

The merchant lifted the lid. Gems of all shapes, colors and sizes filled the box. "May these superior stones help you in your work. Perhaps with them, the physis can exceed your most hopeful expectations. Your skill, and the magic that you have created, have preserved my life. For that, I can never truly repay you. However, I hope that you accept this gift."

The magnitude of the offering had made the panther stutter during his translation, but the sincerity of the message had remained strong. Tears welled in the woman's eyes. "Thank you," Tassos answered with a depth of feeling that made her voice crack. Overcome by all that had occurred over the recent days, she turned to Panthro, buried her face against his chest, and wept.

Ba'sir blinked in confusion. "What have I done to make her cry?" he asked the Thundercat with bewilderment. "I thought that I had selected the perfect gift."

"You have done too well, Ba'sir," Panthro answered calmly as he stroked the woman's hair to comfort her. "Your arrow has struck the heart of her dilemma. As a healer, even a reluctant one, she must accept and use your gift. It will probably improve her invention as you suspect, but with it, you have drawn her inexorably closer to the day when she must end her self-imposed exile, and return to the world."

Although still shaken, Ba'sir rose. Fretting with the wide yellow slash that kept his green robe closed, and not looking at the panther, he said, "Tell me no more. I leave her to your care, ky'ril. I must prepare for my departure at the next dawn. Give her my farewell.

"Leave when you will; you know how to operate the external door. I have no further wish to be disturbed. I am sealing off the forward chambers to prevent any more intrusions. I've been stuck on this blasted world too long.

"May the gods grant you a safe journey." Ba'sir bolted for the door, but suddenly turned, and again faced the panther. "Promise me that you will convince her to go with you. Those warriors will not forget her workings, and they will descend upon her."

Why don't you help her, you bloated coward! Panthro thought with venom, but he kept the insult to himself. Ba'sir's legitimate concern for Tassos, although not backed by commitment on his part, and the pain that her distress had obviously caused him, forced the remark to stick in Panthro's throat. Not one of us is beyond reproach, he decided. We do only what we can do. Few of us have risen above our limitations or our greed. He sighed. The truth was far simpler. If Ba'sir surrendered to his feelings, he might never leave. He had sworn to fight a greater evil that dwelt amongst the stars. Who am I to condemn him, Panthro decided. Maybe he will find more Thunderan survivors on the slave worlds. Perhaps, one day, he will come back to Third Earth with others of our kind.

"I'll try," Panthro finally answered, "but she is as stubborn as you."

"That is all I ask," Ba'sir said with uncertain relief.

As the merchant exited the chamber, Panthro called out to his disappearing form, "You'd better be skybound by the dawn, and you'd better give me a sign that I can see from Cats' Lair! Chand'ra and I will be gone before this day grows much older. And this time, we have no intention of coming back to check on your selfish hide!"

*****

The frigid wind blew relentlessly across the plain. Panthro, bundled in his heaviest clothing, stood quietly in the courtyard of Cat's Lair, and contemplated the changing sky to the east. Night had passed; the bleak blues and grays that preceded the dawn lingered on the horizon. The snow leopard beside him said, "Forget the sun, my lord. If he rides the sky, Ba'sir will appear in the northwest."

He studied the female's plain face. The changeable eyes, now a dark green color in the dim light, saw deeply into his soul. Her gentle jest had failed to release the burden on his heart, and it had upset her. Chand'ra touched his gloved hand lightly. "She is as strong a warrior as you or I. Nothing but complete destruction could move Tassos from Trinacria. You tried your best to convince her to leave, Panthro. There is nothing to be gained by courting guilt."

He was tempted to raise her hand to his lips, and bestow a kiss on the soft fur of her strong fingers. Instead, he lowered his eyes, and studied the stitching on his boots. "I know," he answered softly.

Tygra was right, he thought ruefully. I should have stayed asleep. I was a fool to think that Ba'sir would send a signal. He regarded Chand'ra again. Since their return the previous day, she had said little to him of their adventure. She had not thanked him for keeping her secret from the Lord of Thundera and his shrewd councillor when he had selectively recounted their trials to them. I was a fool to believe that she would open her heart to me. The bones in his hands throbbed; his knees protested his rigid stance. Your not getting any younger, Panthro, he thought. Give it up. Go inside.

He began to move, but Chand'ra's hand tightened around his wrist. "You are not the type to quit." The statement was more of a command than an observation.

"You're a jan'nirri, not I. Watching and waiting are skills that you have mastered."

In an instant, her eyes lightened with fury. "I was happy being simply a priestess of Syrii. The temple offered many riches to the sisters who lived and served within her walls. I was among the best of those who danced the rites. My aim was to be Ta'leeka, the first among the dancers, one answerable only to the Goddess and her chief priestess. Do you think so little of me as to believe that I sought jan'nirri training?" She struck his chest with her fist. "Syrii punished my pride and my arrogance, for I was asked to serve the king. To keep my oath as a warrior and as a priestess, I had to set aside my desire, and become a jan'nirri. I lost the freedoms of my youth once my foot touched this rigorous path. The joys of each season became shadows of a life I had lost."

Panthro regretted his desire to know the truth about her. He swore that he would never submit to temptation, and question her about her private conversation with Ba'sir. He tried to speak, but the words refused to come, chained by his shame.

Her thin lips twisted in anguish, and Chand'ra continued. "One day, my counterpart and I were sent to Mehtar to protect the crazed artisans who had chosen to live there, and to gather intelligence concerning the northern borders. Although a jan'nirri, I continued to serve as a priestess, for it was, of course, an excellent disguise. No one, not even my brother, knew of my secret life, and I alone knew who the second jan'nirri was among the mass of people who worked hard to create a place of beauty on the dismal border. Together we blended easily into the lives of those we swore to protect." The snow leopard brushed a tear from her eye. "You know that in Mehtar we failed miserably in our mission."

Panthro whispered the simple words that shame had imprisoned. "Forgive me." Her eyes offered what he had sought, and his pain eased. "I wish that I could undo what you have suffered; I wish that I had watched my words. You know that I will keep locked in my heart all that you have told me." He gently tapped the side of her nose, and remarked, "I will, however, say this to you: a wiser one than I has claimed, 'There is nothing to be gained by courting guilt.'"

To his astonishment, she cradled his hand, then kissed it. A final tear wet the soft leather of the glove. "Thank you, my lord."

His desire for her peaked, and he was grateful for the cover of his bulky garment. I must sacrifice to Briz'bazim, god of luck, he decided as he cursed his lack of timing. Jaga knows, I could use help. He peeled his hand free, surprised by the disappointed turn of her mouth. He pointed to the northwest. "A'drin'a, we have a watch to keep," he said sternly, trying to keep his mind off his growing problem.

The first rays of dawn glinted off the stones of Cats' Lair, but the increasing brilliance was no match for the slight smile that touched her face. "I wonder what that fool will do," she drawled in long northern tones that teased.

He never had the opportunity to answer her, for his sight locked onto the faint star that moved across sky, and continued toward the Lair. The distant sound of engines added an unusual note to the subtle sounds of the morning. The scanners in the eyes of the sculpted feline head that topped the Lair sprang to life, and tracked the object.

"Congratulations, my lord. You have finally succeeded in scaring Ba'sir off this world," Chand'ra remarked.

Panthro laughed, then said, "No, I'm sure that it was you." The unique noise emanating from the skycraft turned shrill. Too fast for the eye to register, the spaceship suddenly disappeared from view. "Show-off!" Panthro shouted to the thin clouds that drifted to the east.

The snow leopard covered her ears, which were hidden under her bushy mane. "All the gods! He probably heard you!" Chand'ra barked.

"I hope he did," Panthro replied smugly. He gestured with his thumb toward the Lair. "Ba'sir would have wanted us to have a decent breakfast," he quipped. "Care to dine with me? I could use something hot inside me."

A reply fraught with mischief flitted across with her mouth, but the snow leopard bit her lower lip to silence it. "Can I consider that a 'yes'?" he asked innocently, noting her interest, and becoming immensely pleased by it.

"For breakfast, yes," Chand'ra answered. She ran her finger down the front of his coarsely woven shirt, then added, "For now."

In the space of a breath, a new future, and all that it promised came into existence. Try as he might, Panthro could not keep the grin off his face. "Then let's not keep Snarf waiting."