Sun and Jewels

Tir'shan lifted his chin, and let the cool breeze caress his throat. The zephyr gave him hope that the intense heat of early morning would not become unbearable. If so, I shall just go to the River and swim, the mystic decided. From his perch on the stone steps of Cat's Lair, he glanced upward to the black metal shaped like the head of an ancestral First-born, subtle and menacing. He wondered whether the argument between Lion-o and Tygra continued. Tired of the dispute, he had left the two in the control room to make peace with their differences. Tygra should know by now that life holds no certainties, the white tiger decided. The price that Eri'mintálí will ask for the city will be paid, or there will simply be no city.

Tir'shan rose, and stretched. The o'ba'ti, one of several garments that Talitha had made for him, kept him cool. The light kirtle was sky-blue in color, and matched his eyes nicely. Although he was grateful for her efforts, he hoped that he had not introduced another wedge between himself and Tygra, her mate.

The mystic began to pace. A good number of suns had past since Cheetara had given birth. The female was well, and nourishing her new cubs. The infants held all but Tygra in their thrall. It was time to go forward, to visit the sea to confer with the asira'savi who had offered his help to the people of Thundera. But Tygra won't let that happen until Lion-o gives him some notion of what he will offer to pay for the city. The mystic sighed. The sooner the matter was decided the quicker he could return to the world of the Four-Forms, and the migration of the Felinari could begin.

Light footfalls came from behind. Kitra sat beside him, the folds of her white o'ba'ti reflecting the brilliant sun light. The young female remarked quietly, "Tygra's coming."

He placed his hand on her shoulder in reassurance. He had the weapon he required, but had kept it in check until now. The architect would regret any scene he might cause, and yet he felt sympathy for the lord.

"Tir'shan!" The roar of his name was frighteningly familiar. He heard Lord Trel's voice in Tygra's heated baritone. The architect stood at the top of the staircase, hands on hips, discontent twisting his lips. His black o'ba'ti flapped loudly as he descended the stone steps, stripping him of the dignity of his rank, a fact to which he appeared oblivious. "You must speak to this creature of the sea! Lion-o heeds not my counsel. We cannot jeopardize our people! Come! We shall make for the coast!"

The mystic stood, using his great height to his advantage. He looked down upon the architect who now stood beside him. He said calmly, "You have no power over Eri'mintálí, and neither do I. Submitting to the asira'savi continues to be the only way to save our people. I suggest you accept that."

"Never!" Tygra hissed.

"Then you are your uncle Trel's nephew in more than blood. His aggression has become your own. It is disgraceful in a servant of Mrísena."

Unlike his uncle, Tygra did not attack, but his amber eyes darkened in menace and the tendons in his neck tightened, which made his incomplete white ruff stand out along the line of his jaw. The architect finally raised his left hand slowly. Whether he would speak or strike remained a mystery. Unexpectedly, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze suddenly focused on the plain beyond.

Tir'shan turned. A tall figure stood quietly by the edge of the forest. "Kitra," Tygra said to the young Felinaria who had not moved since his arrival.

He had the adolescent trained to respect his authority. "I'll check with Lion-o in the control room," she answered before climbing up the steps, and disappearing into the Lair.

The stranger walked toward the Lair. Their differences momentarily forgotten, Tygra and Tir'shan watched its progress. It stopped at the foot of the bridge that spanned the watery chasm before the Lair. It wore no clothing, and its sex was not evident. The sunlight glinted off its scaled, iridescent skin sending little rainbows back to the sky. It had a contour of body that resembled humans and Felinari, not Mutants, and was at least as tall as Tir'shan. It carefully raised its hands in a gesture of peace.

"It doesn't seem to mean any harm." The voice had come from behind. Lion-o, Sword of Omens in hand, sidled next to the tiger pair.

"Neither did Mumm-Ra any number of times he chose to attack us in disguise," Tygra retorted.

"The Sword has remained quiet, "Lion-o countered.

"Its power is questionable as of late," Tygra remarked with scorn.

"Must we judge every being so harshly?" Tir'shan asked with innocence.

"When you have lived on this world as long as we have, you can expect danger as the norm," Tygra grumbled.

Before the mystic could remark, Lion-o shouted to the creature, "Who are you?"

It replied in a powerful voice that was sweetly musical and imbued with amusement. A slight accent tinted its pronunciation of the Thunderan language. "Tygra and Tir'shan have seen me in the sea. I wore a different shape there. This form is more suitable to the land."

"Eri!" Tir'shan cried out, hearing the disbelief in his voice, a thousand questions invading his mind.

"So," the asira'savi remarked. "I grew tired of waiting."

"Come forth!" Lion-o commanded, "And be welcomed."

"Lion-o, no!" Tygra begged.

The young king studied his architect, and shook his head. "If this creature is as powerful as Tir'shan has said, we must trust in its goodwill."

"Tygra," Tir'shan said gently, "his people have never taken a Thunderan life. For cooperation, they have returned to us far more than they have appropriated."

"If they are omnipotent, why do they need material objects at all!" Tygra asked harshly.

"For cosmic balance," Tir'shan explained simply. "And as the guardians of reality, it is their right. Please don't ask him to prove it." The mystic gripped the architect's arm. He said with intensity, "I did, and I will never be rid of the memory." He smiled weakly. "Let us show the hospitality for which we are famous."

"Agreed," Lion-o replied, as he led the way down the stone steps.

Perhaps it was the fear in the mystic's voice, or the respect, that had made Tygra slip into an uneasy silence as Eri'mintálí approached them in the courtyard. The alien spoke first. "Tygra, you need to understand," he said extending his hand.

The architect made no move until a delicate sound made him turn. He looked back up the steps. Despite her lavender o'ba'ti, Talitha ran nimbly down the staircase. Before he could stop her, the white tigress passed him, and grasped the alien's hand.

"No!" Tygra cried in anguish.

Talitha offered her free hand to her mate. "There is no danger, beloved" she said softly.

"Give her back to me!" Tygra demanded of Eri'mintálí.

"I chose to stay," she countered before the alien could reply.

Tir'shan pushed the reluctant tiger forward. "For once, be as wise as your ruff indicates!" he scolded.

Before Tygra could recover his balance, Talitha grabbed his hand. "Look!" she challenged.

"Gods of Thundera!" Lion-o exclaimed. "It's beautiful."

Speechless, Tygra clung to Talitha.

"I guess you have been thinking about the city," Tir'shan teased, while marvelling at the ghostly images of buildings, spires, and walls that had appeared on the plain. The elegance and simplicity of the design gave him new respect for the architect.

"Is this not worth the sacrifice of all the magic that Jaga gave to you?" Eri'mintálí asked.

"A home without protection does not serve our people," Tygra responded huskily.

Lion-o offered the Sword of Omens to the alien. "The time has come for new magic, Tygra. We will find a better path or be guided to the right road."

The asira'savi made a sound like the wind moving through the trees. "It is so," he said. The Sword of Omens vanished in a wave of light. "You have chosen well, son of Claudus."

The alien released Talitha. Tygra shook his head in denial, while his mate whispered words of comfort.

The asira'savi ordered, "Architect, you must go with Tir'shan to our world. You will represent Lion-o, and speak to Lir, confirming that all will be well. Preparations must begin for the third exodus."

"Not without Talitha," Tygra answered sharply. "We are bound together in soul."

"That I know, but there is no danger to either one of you. She must remain here, because she is needed here." The alien addressed the young king. "When they return, I will create Tygra's city, and the people can begin their journey."

"It is what we have discussed in council," Lion-o assented. "The time for waiting is over." The Felinari'i bowed in respect.

Eri'mintálí returned the gesture, and faded before their eyes.

"Well that meal has been cooked!" grumbled a deep voice. Panthro stood before the doors of Cats' Lair, hands on hips. "At least he did not take my tank!"

"He kept his word," Lion-o replied, "and only took Jaga's magic in repayment."

"Cheetara will need a new weapon, as will I. Guess the Claw Shield's gone too." Panthro sauntered down the staircase. He poked Tygra's shoulder. "Bet it was that fellow who took your bolo-whip at the mountain pool."

"More like the Goddess," Tir'shan disagreed.

"But which one," Tygra added wearily, "we will never know." With stooped shoulders indicating surrender, he silently returned into the Lair. Talitha and Lion-o followed close behind him, exchanging concerned looks.

"Mrísena help us," Tir'shan prayed as he watched them go.

"Tygra will need your help, more than that of the Goddess," Panthro remarked. "He told me about Trel's survival. You have nothing to fear from Lir, but watch that Tygra's uncle doesn't stick a dagger between his ribs."

Trel's arm has healed by now. Panthro has ever reason to be concerned for Tygra's safety, Tir'shan thought, remembering his conversation with the architect's aunt, which had revealed the tiger's family troubles.

The panther gazed at him intently as if trying to gauge his reaction. He added tentatively, "Perhaps, Ba'sir...."

"Has new magic up his voluminous sleeves?" the mystic said, completing Panthro's words. Recognition flared in the warrior's amber eyes. He knows that the merchant is more than he seems, Tir'shan decided.

"Play the mystery stone if you have need," Panthro replied, before he left Tir'shan alone in the courtyard of Cats' Lair.

Tir'shan wondered how deadly the game of silk and stones would become.