Encounter

The rain had stopped. It was a curious thing to be dry for the first time in fifteen suns. Talitha watched the flames of the campfire, and delighted in their glow and warmth. The murmurs of her companions punctuated the gentle hissing of cracking twigs. The night routine would soon begin. Willa took the first watch; Tir'shan followed after her. Because she was the one who was ill, she was spared this duty. So that Tygra, her mate, could care for her if necessary, he also did not have to guard the camp. It is just another way to separate me, she decided glumly. A wave of pain swept through her womb. She had become very good at concealing it. Indeed, they had not begun their trip until she was certain of her control. I will go to the Guardians, but I will participate in what happens to me, she thought firmly. I am tired of everyone acting on my behalf. This healing I will control, for I am the one who has been invaded.

Talitha glanced at Tygra. Her discomfort had not registered across their bond. The sleep potion that she slipped into his nightly tea had helped immensely to lighten the chain of their special connection. Tir'shan stared at her. Perhaps he suspected that she manipulated her mate. He remained silent, his frown measuring his wariness. He would be surprised to know that she had also enhanced his tea this evening.

A cool breeze moved the flames. Evil walked tonight. Her dreams of Mumm-Ra had worsened; he would come. It would be her fight, not Tygra's, nor Tir'shan's. It was dangerous for her, but this was a battle where she would look only to females for help. For days she had secretly communicated with her mother Sum'ri'san. Only Willa had noticed that another had trailed them, and she had let the warrior woman know of her dreams and her plans.

It did not take long for Tygra and Tir'shan to drift off into sleep. The snoring of both kept any animals at bay. Before long, her mother emerged from the shadows, and silently joined her and Willa by the fire.

The older white tigress removed a pouch from the pocket of her trousers. She murmured ancient incantations of blessing, while rocking and throwing herbs into the flames. She prayed to Miritana, Goddess of the Female Mysteries, for her protection against evil's onslaught.

The ritual lasted well into the night, until the silence of the forest took on an unnatural depth. Her companions knew well their roles. Neither was to interfere unless she approached death. To stand against the mummy was the first step in her healing. Willa understood this as a warrior; her mother as one who had instilled in her confidence in both weaving and anything life had shown to her. If only Servalla, her mystic mentor, were here, she would be certain of victory. "All the Gods of Thundera protect me," Talitha begged as she stood, and prepared to face her enemy.

The mystic smelt rotting flesh, and realized with horror that it came from within her. "Face me, Coward!" she declared with anger. Jets of fetid steam oozed from her body, and coalesced before her into the vaporous form of the undead priest Seti. His red eyes held strength and challenge. The revulsion she suffered at the sight of his decay, and the knowledge that it emanated from her, shook her resolve. The creature sensed her dread. With a word he sent a wave of pain along the vapor trails. She clenched her fists, and let the evil tide pass over and through her, a slight intake of breath the only response to the hurt that she would allow him to see.

The forest blurred; light and shadow intermingled into a maze that offered no escape. The keening incantations of her mother found her, an anchor against any illusions. She felt the presence of the deadly warrior women, a predator that circled the arena of conflict, and merely waited for her word to strike. I will not fail myself, Talitha decided. I will cast him out with that which he does not expect.

More pain crashed upon her. Her knees weakened. There had been another in her dreams, and now he reappeared in her mind. The man was young, but brimming with sorrows that he had carried for ages. He wore only a simple white kirtle. *Heal,* he whispered. *Heal.*

Seti expected violence, and in this, he dominated, for she was no warrior. Her mystic empathy made her vulnerable to any pain she dared to inflict. Violence, even justified, went against the Goddess of Healing, and those mystics that forgot this prime rule suffered.

The vapors turned red. It would steal her breath and life unless she acted. She relaxed into her torment, so that pain became no more than an illusion of the mind. The healing blue light of Mrísena poured from her body. "I give you my gift, Evil One," she announced with complete assurance that her action was absolutely correct.

The vapor priest shrieked in agony as the blue light overcame the red. *Do not falter,* the young man pleaded. Small bits of red reemerged as Seti's anger rose at the invasion he had endured. *Do not falter.*

"I give myself to your healing," Talitha declared pushing every ounce of power from her fingertips into the vapors now colored purple. A shudder went through her body. It was if someone had released the waters from a damn. Power flowed quickly from her fingers, a torrent that suddenly shifted spectrum and glowed hot violet. "Heal!" Talitha shouted as the mummy's ghostly form shrank under the onslaught of her gift. His cries of terror diminished into silence. His form exploded into a myriad of twinkling butterflies that soared into the night and vanished.

Talitha dropped to her knees. The youth spoke once more. *The day will come when you and your mate will grant me true freedom. Then, you will find yourselves alone once more.*

"Wait!" the mystic implored, but the Egyptian had gone. The mysteries she would ponder another day. She was free of the taint in her womb. Now she simply wanted to sleep, but the wetness between her thighs made her uncomfortable.

Her mother sat by her side; the warrior woman held her hand. "We will tend to you," Sum'ri'san said gently.

"No mention of this to the males," Talitha said, surprised at the smallness of her voice. "We will still seek the Guardians." That she was completely healed she kept to herself, although she suspected that the other females knew the truth. She was grateful that they offered no objections. She had chosen her companions wisely. Tomorrow they would keep the suspicious males at bay. She relished the possible explanation Sum'ri'san would inflict upon them concerning her "unexpected" arrival. Her mother was quite the storyteller, and Willa needed only to glare at them to win silence.

Sum'ri'san started an ancient song that celebrated the victory of a band of white tigresses against a terrible enemy. Images from the story darted through Talitha's mind, and wove themselves into a fine dream.