Past the Point

There. Not there. There, again. Being dead was a nuisance, Panthro decided as he took in his new surroundings. Only soft candle light illuminated the room. The Lord of the Thundercats lay upon his great bed, his naked body kept warm by a heavy blanket. He spoke in low tones to the tiger that sat on a high-backed chair by his bedside.

The black tunic and trousers hung loosely on Tygra's frame. Damn tiger, why must he always go off his feed when trouble comes, Panthro fumed.

Lion-o shook he head in dismay. "Tygra, my fever and weakness have lasted, no matter the efforts of medication or mystics."

"You must let Panthro go," Tygra replied quietly. "Your grief drains you."

Oh, he's holding back something. I know that tone. What else do you know, architect?

"But, Tygra, the fact that Panthro no longer strides across Third Earth. It is hard to accept that such a warrior fell to a rock."

Even that annoying mage Ba'sir had trouble with a stone, Panthro mused. But luck was on his side, and he did not die from his wound as I did.

The architect furrowed his brow, a sure sign of trouble. Okay, here comes the lecture. Let him have it, Stripes. We need our King well.

"The day will come, my Lord Lion-o, when we will have our vengeance upon Sartren's people."

Vengeance? We? Not Tygra, not in a thousand Thunderans suns. This can't be good for anyone.

"Waiting is the hardest, Lion-o, but they will come to us, for such is their nature. Patrols will keep us informed of their movements. Our warriors must be prepared, and new ones must be trained. In this, Lir and I are in

agreement. Focus your mind on the future, and you will heal."

"But the fight is not yours, Tygra," Lion-o added suddenly.

"Panthro was as an elder brother to me."

"You are a mystic."

"Something I never wanted, " Tygra growled.

Seventeen serpents and a goat! Architect, what mischief have you been up to since my passing?

"Tygra, you have yet to take the mystic oath. You must put down the sword. It is the only way that Tir'shan will permit you to resume your training."

"Do you demand this of me, my King?" Tygra asked through gritted teeth.

"I know you will do the right thing eventually, Tygra. But why cause such unhappiness in your home. Why strain your own body with pain."

Great. Now you have done it, Lion-o. He won't hear another word.

The architect rose smoothly from his chair. His clenched hands betrayed his anger. "I must go, my Lord."

"To a cold house, Tygra."

Do I have to kick that striped butt of yours, Tygra, Panthro thought. He reached for the architect's arm, but his fingers passed through his friend. The tiger gasped.

"What is it, Tygra? " Lion-o asked with concern.

"Just an ache, my lord," Tygra mumbled as he rubbed his left arm.

I'll give you 'Just an ache' you damn fool! Panthro snarled without sound. But the room went black.

*****

Here we go again, Panthro thought as another room coalesced about him.

Glow balls lit the cottage. The middle-aged white tiger clad in a garishly colored o'ba'ti wrestled with the black panther cub who squirmed in his grip. Panthro chuckled to himself despite his growing sadness at the sight of the son he had left behind. Marcus will give you his all, Casaphi. Watch out for those sharp little claws. The cub gave a fierce swipe that almost drew blood.

"Talitha!" the weaver snarled. "Does this one never take to bed! Altair gives us no such trouble!"

"Don't want go!" Marcus howled, shaking his head. His short blonde mane dotted with black spots shot from side to side. His flailing threatened to tear his grey tunic. His sea green eyes welled with tears.

The mystic came to the aid of her father. She knelt and opened her arms. When Casaphi released Marcus, the cub toddled over to the white tigress. He buried his head against her arm, and wet the fabric of her blue gown. Talitha kissed the top of his head. "You can sit with me while I read, Marcus. Just let me know when you are ready to sleep." She scooped him up, and walked to a chair by the fire.

"Spoilt!" snapped Casaphi who raised his arms up in frustration. "Just like your self-centered lord."

"Enough," Talitha growled. "Tygra, will find his way out of his anger! I am counting on solitude and Tir'shan's censure to make him see sense."

"And you here with 3 cubs to raise while he sulks!"

"We will go to the Halls of Healing, tomorrow, father, have no fear. Tir'shan will welcome us." Marcus began to weep again in distress, but Talitha whispered softly into his ear. A giggle came forth from the cub as he settled against her shoulder. In a few minutes, he had dropped off to sleep.

"Casaphi!" The hissed name dripped softly with rebuke as Sum'ri'san in her brown night tunic padded down the staircase. "You are no father yourself if you allow our daughter and her cubs to leave," his mate scolded. She reached for a kettle to fill with water for tea, but shot Casaphi a look that suggested she could have equally clobbered him with the vessel.

"It is better, mother, if I go," Talitha replied calmly. "I am closer to my duties. Besides it is a simple fact that there are more people to help me with my extended family at the temple. Tir'shan alone can easily handle the twins." Marcus gave a small snore in agreement.

"We will miss the tiniest one the most," Casaphi admitted sheepishly. He added with frustration, "Her eyes have opened. It would be appropriate if someone gave her a name."

"That is Tygra's place." Talitha's tone left no room for further argument.

Min'k'tin, the gods have returned a daughter to you, yet you have followed a bad star, Panthro mused with disappointment.

Sum'ri'san gathered several mugs as she spoke. "You have a beautiful daughter, my daughter. But it is the energy of the twins that keeps us young. You forget I raised 3 sons before you and Surati came along."

"And along with the destruction of the very young, there was never a moment of silence," Casaphi grumbled as he dropped onto another chair. He impatiently tapped his ringed fingers on a side table.

"Have you grown old, my gold-toothed rake?" Sum'ri'san remarked with the sure knowledge that Casaphi would bristle at her suggestion, and the besmirchment of his reputation.

Talitha laughed from a deep place that washed the strain from her face.

And I am not here for my son! Panthro denounced himself as the blackness descended once more.

*****

Not this place. No. The walls of metal told him that he now haunted Cats' Lair, which had primarily become a garrison, and a scientific stronghold. No light blazed in the small room that contained just a table and a bed upon which lay a naked female. The weeping cut into his soul like a fine blade. In all of his life he never expected that he would watch a jan'nirri of Chand'ra's caliber cry.

Panthro leaned over the snow leopard. Can't touch you or comfort you, dear one. He whispered into her ear without sound, You have walked this road before. Be strong, jan'nirri.

The weeping ceased. Chand'ra angled her head as if she heard his words. "Lion-o binds me by my oath to him, Panthro. But one day, the King will finally see reason. Then I will meet you in the north, after I have tasted of mountain tiger flesh! This I promise you."

The grey warrior silently thanked his young lord for the wisdom of holding his attack, and thus sparing Chand'ra's life. I wish I could join you in that fine feast, jan'nirri. Would that I could take you back into my bed.

His blew on her neck. He never marked her response because the room melted away.

*****

Sunlight. His amber eyes blinked with the radiance.

"I thought you would never get here."

"Names of all the gods! "Panthro shouted, bolting upright from his prone position. He slapped his hands over his mouth, the sound of his bass voice startling him.

Cheetara and Tygra stood before him. Feathery clouds drifted lazily across the plain, but the sudden greying of the sky heralded foul weather.

He searched his mind, and found but one last memory: the horror on Chand'ra's face as he fell. "Am I in the crystal tree or dead?" he asked. A cold breeze blew across his chest.

Tygra, a lost soul from another time and place, said, "Both." The warrior leaned casually on a long bow. His black o'ba'ti rustled slightly. Panthro wondered about the tiger's need for a weapon. Having soundly defeated Mumm-Ra in his other life should have put him beyond any measure of testing.

"He enjoys the meditation," Cheetara remarked casually, offering her hand. She chuckled, "And occasionally the competition."

"She usually wins," Tygra replied with a huff.

So much like our Tygra, Panthro decided. He hates losing too.

The panther stood. "Damn," he snarled. He touched the spikes of his bandoliers, annoyed by the possibility that he would have to wear his Thundercat uniform for all eternity.

Cheetara giggled. "It is easy to change clothes, Panthro." She snapped her fingers. The green historian robes that she had worn disappeared, replaced by a wildly purple tunic and trousers.

Panthro mirrored her action, but nothing happened.

"Don't worry. It will come to you soon."

Snowflakes began to fall.

Before he could comment, Cheetara said, "We prefer a change of seasons."

Tygra, he suddenly realized, was no longer around. "Looks like you two have the afterlife all figured out, except for the hole in my heart."

Cheetara narrowed her eyes. "We both hurt too, Panthro."

"But you have purpose. You are the keeper of our history."

Cheetara shrugged. "But I may not be the master here."

The sunlight diminished behind a cloud. "We cannot even have peace beyond life?"

She spoke one word. "Cenatua."

"The new Guardian? Tir'shan's cub?"

"Be prepared, Panthro."

"What has she done, swift one," he growled.

"Besides depriving me of seeing the future?"

"She should not interfere in your domain! What of the other Guardians?"

"I see a shadow over her that worries me, but I have no notion of her plans, or the role of the other Guardians. When I first came into the crystal, I looked into the future. It was hard to resist such glimpses. I only know that my memory of the future that I saw has faded. I sense that what I have originally seen has changed, and now I no longer see the future at all. Perhaps she thought me a threat for looking."

Panthro balled his fists. His desire to strike anything with his nunchaku rose with each thought of the young Guardian. "How do you know it was her who caused these changes?"

"One night she walked here, Panthro. That is when the future changed, then disappeared from my view."

"What of her father or mother? Can't you warn them?"

"There are blocks now in the dream road. I guess she wants me to stay in the past and present only." Cheetara sighed. "Maybe it was I that broke the rules, and not her, by my curiosity." She shook her head as if to clear it. "For now I will keep my counsel."

Panthro set his hand on her shoulder. "My coin will always be on you, swift one. Let us pray that she will not become another Mumm-Ra. We still have that undead filth to deal with as it is."

"Others may have that chore, Panthro, not us."

"But I am as dead as you."

"Maybe, not," Cheetara answered, and that created a future he had not anticipated. "Being here indicates your final journey to the River has been interrupted. I feel Cenatua may come for you soon."

"To what end!" Panthro cried.

Cheetara shook her head. "That I cannot see."