Well of Belief

The Felinari'i sat on the steps of Cats' Lair. As he waited for Tygra, the architect who had designed the fortress, Tir'shan gazed across the fog covered plain to the south. The rays of rising sun warmed his left shoulder, and glinted off the Thundertank in the courtyard below. The day would become hot, and the humidity that now dampened his clothes would only worsen.

Light footfalls drew his attention. A small shadow passed over his own. Kitra sat by his right side. The youngster's heart-shaped white face held no joy. Her dark eyebrows furrowed with concern. She reached into the pocket of her knee length tunic, and removed a pouch. "You will need this," she said sternly.

"Many thanks tir'k'tin'a," the mystic remarked politely. "May I look at your gift?"

She frowned at the appellation of "little sister", but nodded in affirmation. Feeling the heat, Kitra rolled her green sleeves to her elbow as she spoke, "This is no gift, elder. It is protection."

From Tygra? Tir'shan wanted to ask, but kept silent.

"Mumm-Ra wants us all dead."

Her words had the weight of a knowing and tested adult. The solemnity of her reply convinced him that what little he had learned of the evil creature that had plagued his fellow Thunderans did not do it justice. "You will explain," he asked tentatively, as he removed the object from its bag.

It was made of polished black stone cut into the shape of a cross. The apex was further carved into a profile which was decorated on one side only. The being portrayed had both a long snout and ear. Its single eye was rimmed in gold, as were the odd symbols carved into the crosspiece. "Such beauty," Tir'shan murmured.

"It is an amulet of Anubis," Kitra answered.

"A'nu'bis," the mystic repeated slowly. The name crossed a valley in time. He sensed that the object had great age.

The small cat continued, "The inscription reads: 'The power of Anubis protect this mighty one from those who devour.' If Mumm-Ra appears, wield this, and recite those words. That will make him flee."

"Did you make this treasure?" the mystic asked, marveling again at the female's maturity. To his surprise she laughed.

"I am not an artisan, but rather a historian in the making," Kitra replied, the resentment in her voice deepening it.

No more intrusions, he promised himself. Let the little one be. I will find her heart's desire, and repay the favor.

"Xerxes found the amulet," Kitra said. "He said it is Egyptian."

"Xer'xes? E'gyp'tian?"

The adolescent rose, and waved her hand dismissively. "You have much to learn, Tir'shan," she chided, emphasizing the first syllable of his name in mockery. "You should pray that Tygra's mood has improved. He will give you more trouble than Mumm-Ra."

Before the mystic could volley a comment of his own, the small cat had darted back up the steps, and had disappeared through the front doors into the fortress.

A low growl sounded in annoyance.

Tygra, Tir'shan decided, slipping the object quickly back into its pouch, and into the pocket in his trousers.

The advisor to the king advertised his role in his attire. His tight-fitting tunic had no sleeves. It tucked neatly into his trousers, which ended within his boots. All three articles of clothing were black, accentuating the lord's rich orange fur. A gold sash cinched his waist. A red disc, which rested against his broad chest, dangled from a sturdy necklace. A black symbol, which suggested power, decorated its surface.

Tygra folded his muscular arms, his black stripes stressing his excellent physical condition. "Are you ready!" the red tiger snarled.

"No one ever is," the priest of Mrísena answered in resignation.

*****

The Thundertank had made the journey across the wide plain a short one. For that the mystic was grateful, for he had grown tired of the sullen silence of his lordly companion.

Tir'shan pointed to a set of boulders in the distance. "See how the light strikes them, and how they favor the ancestors, the Am'ral'im. Tygra grunted in agreement, and parked the vehicle by the stones.

They disembarked. The lord gestured for Tir'shan to lead. "Right by this outcropping is the staircase. Just beyond the curve in the wall," the white tiger informed his companion. "I left a little circle of stones to mark the place." Tygra raised a skeptical eyebrow as he gazed at the towering rocks that formed the base of the mountainous terrain. "Come," Tir'shan instructed. "You will see for yourself."

They entered the shade cast by the formations. Tir'shan moved toward the bend in the rocks. "Come see. The steps are carved with care, probably by our ancestors, for this is surely the work of those that dwelt on Homeworld."

"I see no staircase," Tygra disagreed with irritation as he approached. "Just another wall."

"Impossible," the mystic huffed. "The steps are right here."

"There are no steps!"

"I will prove it," Tir'shan declared. He climbed the first step, then faced Tygra. "See!"

"Names of a thousand gods, where did you go! Tir'shan!" the tiger shouted in alarm.

The mystic returned to the tiger's side. Tygra gasped, "You disappeared!"

Tir'shan placed his hands on his hips, and contemplated his companion's words. Perhaps this place was only for those consecrated to Mrísena. Despite his red fur, Tygra is mystic-born. I cannot believe he would be kept from Her favor, he decided. He reached for the lord, and grabbed his wrist. "Come!" he commanded, pulling the tiger forward before he could protest. The air hummed slightly. "Can you see the steps now?"

The lord turned quickly several times, his face contorted in bewilderment. He raised his hands, and felt the air. "How did we pass through this stone?" he asked.

Tir'shan sighed. "Lord Tygra, there is no wall of rock. Can you not see the plain beyond?"

"No," Tygra mumbled in disbelief.

The mystic rubbed his chin. He wished he could see the illusionary rock that baffled the tiger. Difficult to outsmart a race that has the power to cast illusion as a mind gift, he thought with admiration. I would have liked to have met the mage who placed this enduring spell. He cleared his throat hoping to get the tiger's attention. "The staircase is long. We should begin, my lord."

Tygra nodded mutely. More surprises await, the mystic thought, his companion's discomfort inappropriately appealing to him.

*****

Finally here, Tir'shan thought as he stepped onto the platform where the staircase ended. The ascent had been long and hot. A gentle breeze, cool and restorative, blew across his face, and he gave thanks to Mrísena for the small gift.

Standing in a patch of shade cast by a overhang, the priest observed his companion carefully. The tiger stood in the sunlight. He had remained remote throughout the climb, but now the lord had relinquished his pretentious air. Under the soulful gazes of the four Goddesses that guarded the stone pool before them, he smiled. "Another sign," he heard Tygra murmur, obviously pleased.

We could use something more concrete, Tir'shan thought, and immediately regretted the criticism. The Goddesses did not merit his disdain. Please help us, he prayed silently.

The architect suddenly sighed. "If only we could have brought Cheetara. She knows something of the ancient script." He faced the priest. Weariness, a display of weakness he did not expect from the lord, shadowed his dark amber eyes. Tygra pointed to each figure adorning the surrounding walls of stone. "How will we ever summon their help without words of power, mystic." He moved toward the pool, and began to trace the cursive letters carved into its surface. "How can we find your spaceship or your friend."

"Maybe we need only wait for a sign," the white tiger offered hopefully.

Tygra smirked. "Then we too may become stone," he replied, his baritone voice colored with defeat. He gestured toward the reservoir. "A tool we know not how to use."

"Eri bathed in it. Perhaps we should do the same," Tir'shan suggested.

"That would be for you to do, priest, not me," Tygra commented. The architect sat on the wide rim of the pool. "I don't think the Goddesses would mind if I rested for a moment, or partook of the oasis they have provided." He whispered a prayer of thanks, then dipped his hand into water. He ran his fingers across his brow. "Ten demons, it grows hot," he muttered.

Before the mystic could remark in kind, a cloud darkened the sun. An overpowering stench threatened to make him vomit. He heard the lord curse, and caught the one word he had not wished to hear. "Mumm-Ra!" Tygra exclaimed. From whence the tiger had retrieved the strange whip he now wielded in his left hand, the mystic could not speculate.

Tir'shan looked to the sky. Above them hovered a gigantic being taller than himself. His sickly bluish skin matched his smell in its repulsive quality. The monster wore a loincloth, a cape and an archaic crown. Tattered rags fluttered from its body like sickened moths. Its blood red eyes bore right through him. The creature's mouth twisted into a wicked grin, saliva dripping from its sharp teeth, a predator ready to kill.

The mystic retrieved the amulet that he carried. The thing named Mumm-Ra wheezed in a language he did not understand. Before Tir'shan could raise the cross and speak the incantation, rays of grey light erupted from the undead's fingers. The blast struck the stone between architect and mystic. The concussion knocked Tir'shan off his feet, and pitched Tygra into the pool.

The floating monster shouted in triumph. Amulet still in hand, Tir'shan forced himself to rise. Rivulets of blood from a gash in his forehead dripped across his white-brown face. With a glance, he saw that Tygra, although still in the water, grasped the edge of the pool. Satisfied with the relative safety of his companion, and paying no heed to his injury, he began to recite the spell Kitra had given him. A piercing sound sliced the air before he could finish. The mystic dropped the talisman of Anubis as he clutched his pained ears and dropped to his knees. The ground beneath him began to vibrate. Brilliant silver light suddenly bathed the platform. Concentrated radiance concealed Tygra, and shot from the pool upward to the sky. The beam struck the undead creature. Its screams mingled with the perpetuating shrill tone as the light shrouded it. The creature in its luminous cocoon vanished, leaving only blue sky in its wake.

Whimpering stirred the quiet. "Tygra," Tir'shan shouted as he rose, then ran toward the pool. To his amazement he discovered that the architect had managed to grasp the reservoir's rim. He pulled the red tiger from the water, shocked at his nakedness. How the light had destroyed the Felinari'i's clothing and weapon, but had not harmed his flesh, startled the mystic. He propped Talitha's lover against the stone. The architect stared ahead, his weak cries only adding to the dazed expression on his face. "Fifty demons," Tir'shan sighed. He placed his fingertips against Tygra's neck. "Forgive the intrusion," the mystic said as he closed his eyes, relaxed and tapped into his power.

A maelstrom of energy roared through Tygra's body. Tir'shan wailed, and sundered his healing connection. His hands shook and his fingertips burned. The wound he had sustained to his brow pulsed painfully. Dizziness threatened to rob him of consciousness. "Holy Mrísena spare us!" Tir'shan prayed.

Have no fear, the wind counseled. Heal yourself. Comfort Tygra. Wait. When your brother mystic finally speaks, then you can help him.

"Ever your servant," the mystic replied to the unseen presence who had reassured him.

*****

Tir'shan had done the bidding of the Goddess. Despite the initial burning of his fingertips, his power had restored him as Mrísena had predicted. His being again knew balance. After he had tended to himself, and recovered his amulet, he had quietly held Tygra against body, surprised that the architect had offered no resistance. Although the air had warmed considerably, passing clouds had kept them safe from direct exposure to the sun. He had almost fallen asleep because of the heat when a voice implored, "Lock the colors away."

The whispered plea from Tygra made Tir'shan rejoice for now he could truly offer aid. He released the architect from his grasp, and observed him. His companion's eyes seemed strangely unfocused. "What do you see, Tygra?" he asked, probing cautiously.

"The lights of all things," the lord answered in exhaustion, "and over the colors, control and predictability have eluded me."

"So like your mother," Tir'shan remarked absently, recalling Servalla's aura sight. He touched Tygra lightly on the brow, so as not to startle him. "I must call upon my gift to help you."

"Do so," he commanded, the waver in his voice marking his uncertainty.

The mystic rested his fingertips against Tygra's temples. "Have no fear," he murmured as he summoned his power. His patient was again a mass of contradictory vibrations, but this time the excess did not cause him to withdraw in pain. With the skill of a surgeon, Tir'shan identified the source of each internal melody until he found the one that need dampening. He wielded his power, lowering the wayward music, but not terminating it. He sent his thoughts to Tygra, *That should suffice until you can be helped to harness your gift correctly by someone of more skill than myself.*

Warm thoughts rippled across his mind. *Thank you!* two voices responded.

Talitha! Tir'shan thought in surprise as he withdrew, his work completed. In the danger of the moment, he had forgotten her special bond with the lord. He studied his patient. The tiger still appeared tired, but no longer haunted. He wanted to ask him about Talitha. Had she told those in the Lair what had transpired? That the lord was in no distress made him decide to shelve that question. Why ruin his mood, he thought, not surprised to find his own fatigue growing.

He patted Tygra's shoulder, then helped him to his feet. He removed his tunic, and offered it to the lord. "Given my height, it is long enough to cover you." Tygra accepted without complaint. "I can tear some strips of cloth from the legs of my trousers so that you may cover your feet."

"No. You have done more than enough, Tir'shan. The steps are smooth. I will manage."

The mystic nodded, pleased that the lord had actually addressed him by name. He made a sweeping gesture with his arm. "What do you propose we do now?" he asked the architect. "I cannot believe that we have come all this way for nothing."

Tygra gave no answer, but walked to the pool. He leaned on the rim, then said, "The Goddesses have taken payment from me. Let us see what they have to offer."

The clear water reflected sky and clouds like a mirror. Tygra dipped his left hand into the water. The fluid spiraled as if alive. "Help us," he asked with reverence.

The spirals turned to silver. An image formed. Sand and sea. A slow rise of the land. In the quiet setting, a shimmering oval and violet shape, a phantom on the plain, appeared out of place.

"My lord, that is the ship!" Tir'shan explained, grabbing the tiger's arm in excitement. "The Goddesses have made it visible to us." The manifestation of unseen forces scared him not, for he was a priest of Mrísena, whose belief provided the only explanation he required. He accepted what he saw as the truth and as a reply to Tygra's sacrifice.

"Yes," the architect answered in a voice that sounded as if it had come from a great distance. "I see." The vision faded. He withdrew his hand, and started to sway.

"Names of the Gods, now what," Tir'shan snarled, embracing the lord so that he would not fall.

Tygra touched his wrist. "All is well. I know where the ship is." He indicated the Goddesses, then tapped his forehead. "The knowledge is within me." He smiled, which unsettled the mystic because it was unexpected after the lord's hostility toward him. "Let us go home, k'tin. Talitha has informed me that Panthro and Lion-o will be waiting for us on the plain."

The architect pulled away from the mystic, and headed for the staircase. Tir'shan finally moved when the Thunderan lord slipped out of view.

*****

Tygra laughed. "I can now see what you saw, mystic! Earlier I must have seemed the fool."

The white tiger refrained from agreeing, although he was tempted to make a cutting remark. He too marked the bend in the mountain at the end of the staircase, and the sliver of plain visible beyond.

The Felinari'i left the rocks, and spied a Thunderan skycraft. "Tygra!" The cry had come from the Lord of Thundera. The young lion rushed forward and embraced the architect. "Thank the gods that all that was lost was your bolo-whip and not your life!"

"That was the doing of the Goddesses, not Mumm-Ra," Tygra corrected, freeing himself. "In the end, it was fair payment, my king, for what we sought."

"That Mumm-Ra always shows up at the wrong time!" Panthro complained as he approached. "The Sword of Omens remained silent. No warnings nor answers did it yield. Were it not for Talitha, we would have never known what had happened."

"Maybe Jaga's magic is fading," Lion-o suggested ruefully.

"There could be other factors involved," Tygra added. "The place of the Goddesses may be shielded, as are other areas in the mountains.

"Then why did Mumm-Ra find you?" Panthro countered. Tygra shrugged, indicating that he had no answer to the question posed by the panther lord.

The conversation registered very little on the mystic. His thoughts focused on only one Thunderan. Talitha. That explains why neither king nor panther lord appeared astonished at Tygra's state of dress. I should not be surprised, Tir'shan decided. Information has flowed freely between her and her mate.

A fresh insight made itself known. Given her bond with Tygra, she may have suffered some of what he endured. The mystic wondered if she would reiterate the details of her experience with him, a brother mystic and her superior in the temple. Do I have the right to expect so much? he thought. He suddenly felt excluded from the intimate circle of friends and lovers. His sister mystic could have chosen to communicate telepathically with him, but except for the brief note of thanks, had not. Her lack of attention to him had hurt, he finally had to admit to himself.

You could have chosen to touch Talitha's mind yourself, his inner voice chided, but did not. Why place all the blame on her.

I do not breech the borders of privacy lightly, he reprimanded himself in return, before suddenly deciding that he should relinquish the habit of talking to himself, even if he did it in silence.

"Are you well, Tir'shan?"

The concerned comment from the king brought him back from his brooding. "It is Tygra and Talitha who have suffered, not I, my king," he answered respectfully, but hearing the lie buried in his words.

"Then we should head back to the lair without further delay. You two go in the Feliner with Panthro," the king commanded. "I'll bring the Thundertank home."

Dark clouds began to cross the sky, and a hint of coolness suggested rain. No one seemed inclined to challenge the words of the king.

*****

The mystic considered the rain and the storm-darkened afternoon. Large wet drops splattered the tall panes of glass that decorated the chamber that the Thunderans used for recreation. The water that had made the air so uncomfortable now nourished the land and the crops. Contradictory, just like Tygra, Tir'shan thought, leaning back in the large chair he had placed by the windows. He took a deep breath, relishing the solitude.

Talitha had flown into Tygra's arms when they had arrived at the Lair. Without further words to anyone, the tiger couple had immediately departed for the privacy of their quarters.

Panthro at least had the courtesy to supply him with some additional information. As the panther secured the Feliner, he related Talitha's experience. The spiritual bond the tigers shared had proven to be both their greatest strength and their greatest weakness. Talitha had collapsed when Mumm-Ra had launched his attack against them. Once her lord had regained consciousness, so did she. Her words of comfort along their mind link had helped to bring Tygra out of his shock. Once cognizant and healed, the architect had recounted their adventure to her by telepathy. Talitha then informed the household of what had transpired. "One Lair, one Mind," Tir'shan murmured to himself. "A powerful weapon."

The mystic stood and stretched. After the king had returned to the Lair, he had chosen not to disturb his chief advisor. A council meeting in the morning would suffice for all. The revelations of the Goddesses would have to wait until morning.

"Maybe I should adopt their casual attitude," Tir'shan grumbled. He touched the cool glass, and looked across plain and forest. He wondered how he would fly Eri'mintálí's spacecraft once they had found it.