Path Into the Darkness

Part Six: WilyKit

Chapter Five: Darkness Falls Once More

Cheetara lay quietly in the center of her bed, her body still and her eyes closed, her mind deep in concentration.  Even though she had learned control it better than she was able to years ago, she had still not mastered her sixth sense.  Cheetara hoped that now, when her gift was truly needed, that it would not let her down.

 

The cheetah Thundercat focused her consciousness upon WilyKit.  She thought out questions, full of emotion and need, in the hopes that her sixth sense would bring forth an answer, either in the form of a vision or intuition.  Cheetara asked the faceless void behind her closed eyes what had happened to WilyKit in her absence—both absences—that had resulted in the wreck of a Thundercat that turned up on Cat’s Lair’s doorstep earlier that evening.  Cheetara then asked for the whereabouts of WilyKat, Snarfer, and Leonora, and sought an answer to the question of why no one on the Third Moon of Plundarr could be reached.  When no answers to those questions were forthcoming, she desperately asked them over and over again.

 

Cheetara had almost given up when suddenly she was overwhelmed with a new and powerful vision, as if her strained sixth sense had managed to break through to the next level and provide her with the information she was searching for.  What she saw in that vision was similar to what she had seen in the brief flash she had experienced earlier.  Cheetara saw WilyKit, trapped in a realm that seemed a world away, screaming in torment.  The lost Thundercat’s pain was not physical, but emotional, and she seemed inconsolable in her anguish. 

 

Only that time Cheetara’s vision didn’t end there.  She saw WilyKit far more vividly, that WilyKit’s face was stained with tears, and that she was even more distraught than the WilyKit she had encountered downstairs a short while ago.  It came as a shock to Cheetara to also see that she was not alone.  Instead WilyKit was being held—much like the way one might console a child after a bad nightmare—and comforted by a Lunatac, whom the cheetah recognized with surprise as the Lunatac Psiarik.  Before Cheetara had the chance to question why he might be in that dark place with WilyKit, she saw something else, something that made her blood run cold.  Standing above the pair were three other spirits—two that were souls of Lunatacs Cheetara did not recognize, and in the middle, holding a large spiked mace and poised to strike, was one she did—Grune the Destroyer.

 

Startled out of her vision, the surprised Cheetara sat up abruptly.  “Grune,” she whispered aloud, her heart pounding from the intensity of the vision.  Why had she seen Grune, she wondered?  Did Grune’s presence somehow mean that the situation did have something to do with the birth Hour of Darkness?  And why had her sixth sense shown her WilyKit, when she was now home safe and sound in Cat’s Lair? 

 

It must have been symbolic, Cheetara decided, although she was not entirely sure how she was supposed to interpret that if it was.  Sighing, the cheetah lay back down on the covers.  Maybe what she had experienced was not her sixth sense at all, she reasoned, but only a strange dream or projection of the things Tygra had told her earlier.  Either way, it had not given her the answers she was looking for, so she would have to try again. 

 

Cheetara closed her eyes and cleared her head of all thoughts once more.  This time I’ll focus on WilyKat, she decided, hoping that her psychic gift would bring her a more concrete vision with definitive answers. 

 

WilyKat, where are you? Cheetara called out telepathically.  Are you safe?

 

Nothing came to her.

 

WilyKat, she projected, emotion pouring into every syllable of the mental summons as she visualized the face of the younger Thundercat and reached out for him.  WilyKat!

 

Again silence and darkness greeted the cheetah in response.  Cheetara was almost ready to give up when she saw a flash of something—the interior of a ship in transit—although it was fuzzy and distant.

 

Forcing herself to focus and concentrate, Cheetara poured all of her mental energy into bringing the vision into focus, and very slowly the scene grew clearer.  More details became visible, enough that she was able to recognize the inside of the Feliner II.  WilyKat sat in the pilot’s chair, his broken arm resting upon the armrest of while he used his good arm to work the piloting controls.  Cheetara could see that the injury needed tending, for the cast and sling were in tatters, and when she could see more of the Thundercat’s form, she saw that his clothing was rumpled and dirty, as though he had been wearing it since being involved in battle and had not had a chance to change. 

 

WilyKat’s face, haggard and appearing older than his age of thirty-some years should have looked, was heavily worn with lines of worry, and by appearances it was clear that he desperately needed sleep.  Cheetara sensed that he wanted to rest, but refused to sacrifice even a second of travel time in order to indulge in any.  Although the Feliner II had an autopilot, it did not operate at the highest speeds for safety reasons.  Only a live pilot could safely navigate the craft at maximum speed, so Panthro had programmed the autopilot accordingly.  WilyKat cursed that fact at the moment, but it was beyond his control, and he had to do whatever it took to get back to Thundera as fast as possible.  If that meant that he would have to delay sleeping for a while, so be it.  And somehow, seeing him thousands of miles away with her sixth sense, Cheetara knew that he was thinking just that.

 

Searching for more in her vision, Cheetara then caught sight of the two others she was worried about—Snarfer and Leonora.  The lioness was asleep in the passenger chair, and she looked even worse for the wear than WilyKat.  Her clothing was charred as though it had been exposed to fire or an electrical surge, but her flesh was unmarred save some superficial scrapes and bruises.  Leonora’s hand weakly clutched at the Staff of Dera in her lap, and the expression upon her face showed that whatever dreams she had, they were uneasy and unpleasant. 

 

Snarfer appeared to have fared the best of the trio.  The loyal snarf was fast asleep on another seat, and he had apparently escaped whatever had happened to them relatively unscathed.  For that she was grateful, and she was certain that Snarf would be too, when she passed on the news to him that his nephew was alive and unharmed.

 

But what happened to send you fleeing for home so fast? Cheetara asked of those in her vision. 

 

Cheetara watched as WilyKat’s head nodded, fighting back another wave of fatigue.  He jerked his head upward and shook it, trying to physically shake the sleep off.  “Damn you, Mumm-Ra,” he mumbled under his breath.  “And damn you, too, Torlei for what you’ve done to my sister and our friends.”

 

Mumm-Ra?  Cheetara thought, startled and alert at the mention of their old enemy’s name, but still in enough control to not allow it to distract her from her vision.  Torlei?  But they’re banished and gone…

 

“I will get my sister back,” WilyKat said aloud, talking as a distraction to help keep himself focused and awake.  “You won’t destroy Cat’s Lair too.  We won’t let you,” the Thundercat mumbled with angry determination.  It came as a surprise to him what strength and resilience the raw emotion of anger could give him.  Had he been in the mindset to think more clearly, he might have pondered if that was why Mumm-Ra always had the power that he did.  But WilyKat was far from being able to indulge such abstract whims of thought at that point.

 

Get her back? But she’s home, WilyKat, home and safe...

 

Or is she? 

 

Still within that vision, Cheetara unexpectedly experienced another flash of the vengeful face of Grune the Destroyer, poised to strike at the terrified WilyKit she had seen earlier.

 

Before Cheetara could push her sixth sense any further, a loud and terrified scream from the physical realm snapped the cheetah out of her trance altogether and brought her crashing back into reality with a start.  It was not so much by choice, but by instinct, for the screams she had heard came from someone she held very dear.  “Chet!”

 

The cheetah leapt out of her bed and was down the hall at her young son’s door in a flash.  She was too wrapped up in concern to even notice the retreating figure of WilyKit on the stairs as she passed by.  Instead the first thing Cheetara noticed was the sinister glow over the door of the playroom.  It sparked with energy almost like it was on fire, and she heard a muffled sort of whimpering inside. 

 

Without hesitation Cheetara reached for the doorknob, and she was immediately met with a painful shock that made the cheetah cry out in pain at its intensity.  She stumbled backwards from the force, and looked at the door with a rising feeling of panic, knowing that Chet was in danger behind it.  “Chet!” she called.  “Are you all right?  Chet!  Answer me!”

 

There was no answer.

 

“Chet!”  Cheetara’s voice was louder, and more insistent.

 

That time she heard a small whimper but nothing more.

 

“Chet!”

 

The only response to that impassioned shout was a quieter noise, more strained and faint than the last, before it gave way to silence.

 

Dead silence.

 

Cheetara then made the decision that any mother would make in such a circumstance.  Completely disregarding her own safety, the cheetah summoned all of her strength and speed and charged at the door with the intent of breaking it down.  In a flurry of golden light she made contact with the sparking energy barrier, but instead of giving way, the field drew her in like quicksand and consumed her.  Cheetara let out an agonized scream and writhed in pain as electricity coursed through and burned every nerve in every limb of her body before she crossed the threshold of pain, lost consciousness, and slumped to the floor.

 

* * *

 

Alone in the council room and completely unaware of Cheetara’s distress, Tygra continued to read through the texts and star scrolls he had gathered about him with increasing frustration.  The tiger clenched his fist, crumpling the paper in his hands slightly, and looked away.  Who am I fooling? Tygra thought dejectedly, I don’t know enough about this for it to be of any use.  I’m not a star reader like Sibera was.  If only she could help me understand this now...

 

“‘If only’ is a useless phrase, Tygra, didn’t Jaga once tell you that, snarf snarf?” the sound of a snarfen female voice came from behind him, breaking into his thoughts.

 

Alarmed by the familiar but very out-of-place voice, Tygra whirled around in the chair and saw the age-worn and whiskered face of his old friend Snarf Clarece once more.  Egbert’s words regarding Clarece after Tygra had last encountered her played back in his mind.

 

“Rowr, Tygra, Snarf Clarece died over two years ago.”

 

“Clarece,” Tygra began softly, “You’re—”

 

“Dead, yes, and you’re talking to a ghost,” the old snarf answered the tiger Thundercat in a matter-of-fact manner.  “Lion-O’s done it plenty of times, snarf snarf.  But that’s not the matter at hand, is it?  You’ve got more important things on your mind?”  The ghostly snarf’s eyes fixed intently upon him awaiting an answer.

 

“I—well—” Tygra stammered, not really knowing exactly how to logically reconcile speaking with a ghost as if it was an everyday occurrence, “—yes.  It’s WilyKit,” he finished.  Suddenly it occurred to Tygra that the last time he had seen Clarece, he was also thinking about the twins. 

 

The spirit snarf’s ears lowered in knowing sadness.  “She’s in pain.  Very dark trouble, snarf snarf.  Darkness is trying to take her over, but you can save her before it’s too late.  Before she winds up lost like Grune the Destroyer.”

 

“I can save her?  But how?” Tygra asked Clarece, now over the initial shock of conversing with a spirit.  “The scrolls said that someone born on the Hour of Light has the best chance of reaching her, but I’m not one.  I was born on the Hour of the Dreamer, according to these scrolls.  How can I—”

 

“Snarf, snarf, snarf,” Clarece sighed impatiently, cutting Tygra off and shaking her head as she did so.  “You are a Dreamer, Tygra, and that’s exactly what hinders you,” the snarf pointed out.  “Even so far back as when you first came to Cat’s Lair in your youth you lacked confidence.  Snarf, I bet a part of you still probably believes that you only became a Thundercat because Scarlette was killed and you won by default, but that isn’t true, am I right?”

 

When Tygra did not answer her, Clarece went on.  “And even now with all of your accomplishments that you’ve made over the years, there’s still that part of you that doesn’t, that won’t, believe that you’re good enough, that second-guesses every little thing you do.  Dreamers are blessed with the most brilliant, powerful, and inventive minds of any hour, and they can do anything if they put their minds to it,” the snarfen spirit told him.  “But unlike the other hours the Dreamers never really believe in what they’re capable of.  They spend their lives either trying to prove themselves, hiding behind excuses, or in your case, escaping from it all by looking for answers in the wrong places—whether it’s a fruit, a crystal, or in this case, a worn old piece of paper filled with information that you don’t really understand.”

 

Tygra looked away from her face, feeling the sting of truth in the snarf’s words.  Had he not said to Cheetara earlier that he felt a shade of guilt for isolating himself in there when the Thundercats were making decisions, but yet he had found a reason to come back to do it again anyway even when more unsettling news had been dumped on them?  Had he really come there truly believing he would find an answer, or had he gone there so that he would not have to be part of the shared worry with the others?

 

Clarece padded over to the tiger and laid a furry paw on his arm.  To Tygra’s surprise, Clarece’s ghostly form was solid and he could feel the warmth in old snarf’s touch.  “Don’t get me wrong, Tygra.  I’m not here to lecture you, snarf snarf,” she assured him.  “You just have to understand that you don’t need to drive yourself crazy searching for answers here.  You know what you need to know, that WilyKit’s birth Hour of Darkness contributes to her troubles and leaves her vulnerable.  And now you know that a Child of Light can reach out to her as well, but I’m here to tell you that she has the comfort of Light, but he cannot save her.  Only she can save herself, if the darkness is cast away before she gives herself up to it.”

 

Tygra pondered Clarece’s words.  “But if only she can save herself, then what can I do?  I thought you said that I could save her.  I don’t understand, Clarece.  What can I, or any of us, actually do?”

 

“WilyKit must save herself by wanting to be saved, by not giving up,” Clarece told the listening tiger.  “And I believe she does.  I know and I know you know that she is not evil in her heart.  But her heart is weighted down by troubles that have made her think and do things that are evil, and in her doubt a force far more malevolent than any, snarf, birth Hour of Darkness has taken hold of her.  The WilyKit you see is not the one you know.  Her soul is locked within the cusp of life and death, of salvation and damnation.  She can be brought back, but not unless you and the others drive out the evil controlling her.  That is what you and the Thundercats can do, Tygra.  Drive out the evil that possesses her, and she will find her way back to you.”

 

Clarece paused for a moment and her old snarfen eyes closed for a moment, highlighting a grave sadness upon her old features.  “Brrrr,” she said with a shiver, “I can not stay with you any longer, Tygra.  Things grow dark and dire and our friends need us both.  I will do what I can, and now so must you.” 

 

Tygra stood.  “Wait! Clarece—”

 

The tiger had barely spoken the words before the seemingly material form of Snarf Clarece had already disappeared entirely from where she stood moments before, leaving no trace that she had ever really been there to begin with.

 

Tygra exhaled, not even realizing until that moment how tense he had held his body during their conversation.  Frowning, the tiger tried to sort out all that Clarece had said to him and to make sense of it.  I have to drive out the evil that possesses WilyKit... what evil is that? 

 

The sound of Cheetara’s scream signaled the end of Tygra’s contemplation of Clarece’s words.  With a startled exclamation, the tiger left the empty council room behind and ran for the hall in which he had heard it originate.  The sheer pain within the cheetah’s cry made the tiger’s blood run cold, and he hurried to her in a frenzied panic, hoping that he would make it to her in time.

 

* * *

 

In another and much quieter part of Cat’s Lair, Torlei found herself standing in front of a prominent door.  It was made of thick steel, like much of Cat’s Lair, and was painted a shimmering whitish-blue metallic color, decorated with a carefully hand-painted and beautifully drawn Thundercat symbol in the center.  She saw that the passage had a keypad lock on it, which was a higher level of security than she had observed in other areas of the Lair.  “There must be something important behind this one,” she mused.  “Perhaps it’s time for a little breaking and entering.”

 

Torlei took a few steps back and surveyed the door, deciding between the options of trying to open it properly or to simply blast it open.  Blasting of course would be the more fun option, but the ever-living opted for the subtle approach instead, and placed her fingers upon the keypad.  She searched the awareness of her Thundercat host for the right combination, and a few moments it came to her.  “Nine, two, three, seven, five,” she murmured aloud, punching in the code.  The keypad beeped in confirmation to her entry, followed by the sound of a heavy lock unlatching, and the door swung open.

 

A wide and malevolent grin spread across Torlei’s false Thundercat face when she saw what it was that lay behind the security door.  The room beyond it was a darkened chamber, nearly empty, except for a large and elaborate metal stand in the very center of the room lighted by the soft glow of a spotlight from above.  Upon that stand rested a sword.  “The Sword of Omens,” she said with a malicious grin.  “So this is where it’s kept.  Oh yes, I’m definitely glad I chose to see what was behind door number one.”

 

Torlei strode quickly to the stand and eyed the ancient sword up close.  She had never had a chance to examine the mythical sword up close before; in fact she had only even seen it when Lion-O had used it against her and Mumm-Ra, and when the Thundercat Lord had used it to forge the Mighty Sword with Queen Selene and Mutant Warrior King Ratar-O during the Battle of the Swords.  Torlei’s borrowed Thundercat eyes glowed with pure hatred at that memory.  Oh yes, Lion-O will pay, and pay dearly, for his part in that, she thought viciously.  When Mumm-Ra and I finish with him, he’ll wish that we let him off as relatively easy as we did the Lunar Plundarrian rulers.  And to ensure that he won’t try any sword magic against us this time, I’ll dispose of that wretched Sword of Omens once and for all.

 

Torlei extended WilyKit’s hand toward the handle of the mystical blade.  Just as the possessed Thundercat’s fingers made contact with the metal, the Eye of Thundera glowed brightly, and a sound similar to a growl of warning came from the sword.  A shock just as powerful as any of Torlei’s own surged up the entire length of her arm, forcing her to drop it almost immediately.  Torlei flinched and flexed her mortal host’s fingers, cursing the weapon and glaring at it with utmost contempt. 

 

“So it knows I bear it ill will… how very inconvenient,” the ever-living psi snarled.  “In that case, I’ll just have to make sure no one else can get to it, then.”  Irritated, Torlei turned on her heels and stormed out of the sword chamber.  When the door slid shut and locked behind her, her calm façade abruptly vanished.  She whirled WilyKit’s body around and struck out her fist in the direction of the lock’s keypad.  Instantly the device exploded into a bright crackle of sparks, just as if it had been bludgeoned with a heavy sledgehammer, although no weapon or hand actually touched it.  The undead Lunatac admired her work and smiled briefly.  Telekinesis was such a practical discipline, she thought, and so convenient—convenient enough that she vented more of her anger by repeating the blows onto the room’s door and the walls, twisting the metal and leaving large, ugly dents as evidence of her frustration.

 

When the ever-living’s temper cooled, she evaluated the damage and frowned.  Even though the door was destroyed and would need extensive repair before it could be opened again, she knew that was no guarantee that Lion-O would not be able to get his sword out of the chamber.  Torlei frowned for a moment, and then cast an energy field over the door and each of the room’s walls, the same way she had to Chet’s room upstairs.  The mental image of the Sword of Omens frying and the Eye of Thundera melting into a puddle of goo was a wonderful delight, but the visualization of a frustrated Lion-O being shocked senseless as he tried to force his way in was an even more gratifying one.  She wondered if his hair would get even bigger in such a circumstance, and giggled nastily.

 

The annoying Thundercat sword taken care of to her satisfaction, she started down the hall again. 

 

* * *

 

Over in the control room and still unaware of the chaos brewing underneath their roof, a frustrated Panthro and Bengali sat at the control panel while Lion-O, Lushara, and Chamela looked on anxiously.  They had been trying for some time to get a transmission out, but for a reason that they were thus far unable to determine, for all the equipment checked out as functional, every attempted transmission to anywhere—the Plundarrian Moons, Plundarr, and even other parts of New Thundera itself—failed.

 

“Dang blast it,” Panthro swore, slamming his fist against the console.  “The diagnostics are checking out normal.  Why won’t it transmit?”

 

“This is very unsettling,” Ambassador Lushara said, narrowing her red eyes at the screen.  She had not wanted to put any stock in WilyKit’s account of what had happened over on the Third Moon, and had tried to accept Lord Lion-O’s assurance that in her fatigue she might have been exaggerating or confused, but she was having trouble doing so.  Ambassador Chamela was only slightly less agitated, pacing back and forth in the control room, flicking her tail.

 

“I take it your equipment is usually more reliable than thisss?” the reptilian questioned.

 

“Unless someone screwed with it, yeah,” Panthro muttered irritably.  “But there’s no damned reason it shouldn’t be working from what we can tell.”

 

Bengali sighed.  “I could go out on the roof and double-check the transmitters by hand, but the diagnostics would have alerted us to any physical damage,” the white tiger noted with a growl.

 

“Well, we have to do something to get it working,” Lion-O said decisively.  “We certainly can’t leave Cat’s Lair unreachable.  If transmissions aren’t getting out, odds are they can’t get in, either.”

 

Chamela tapped her claws against the console.  “What about persssonal communicators?  Do you Thundercats have anything of that sssssort?”

 

Lion-O went over to one of the cubbies on the side of the room and pulled out a handheld device.  The Thundercats rarely carried their communicators while in the Lair, opting usually to leave them in the control room, weapons room, or their personal quarters.  The lion flipped the switch to turn the one in his hands on, and it powered up, but when he keyed in a sequence and pressed the transmit button, nothing happened.  A second attempt with a different frequency was equally unsuccessful.  “What the—”

 

“Mine isn’t working either,” Lushara said, holding up a similar device used by her people which she kept on her out of habit while traveling.  “What in the Moons does this mean?” the edgy darkling demanded, her voice rough and aggravated.  “What’s going on?”

 

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Panthro said with a low growl.

 

It was then that those assembled in the control room heard the sounds of Torlei’s telekinetic redecoration of the sword chamber.  The conversation paused and the five of them exchanged looks.  Bengali was the first to speak.  “What on Thundera is that racket?”

 

Lion-O was on his feet in an instant.  “I don’t know, but I’m going to go find out.”

 

“Maybe we should go with you,” Panthro suggested.

 

“No,” the Thundercat Lord declined, shaking his head.  “I want you to stay here with the Ambassadors and figure out what’s wrong with the transmitter, but Bengali, I’d like you to come along.  If we need you, we’ll let you know.”

 

“By voice, I presssume,” Chamela remarked with a sidelong glance at the malfunctioning communications console.

 

“We’ll keep our ears open,” Panthro agreed with a nod as Bengali rose from his chair to follow Lion-O out.

 

“And eyes,” Lushara added.

 

“It’s probably nothing anyway,” Bengali said, trying to be reassuring, but the white tiger sounded far more confident about that than he actually was.

 

Panthro sighed.  “Let’s hope so,” he replied, and turned back around to face the blank screen.

 

* * *

 

“Cheetara!  Oh, gods, no,” Tygra exclaimed as he rushed to the fallen Cheetara’s side.  The cheetah was unconscious, and the terrible odor of burnt fur filled the air.  Tygra noticed the sinister energy field around the door and realized that was what must have harmed Cheetara, but he paid it little attention as his main concern was waking the other Thundercat at the moment.  He knelt beside her and shook her gently.  “Cheetara, can you hear me?”

 

An equally concerned Snarf came bounding from around the corner.  “Snaaaaarf!  I heard shouting out here!  What—rowr!  What happened, Tygra?”

 

“I don’t know, Snarf,” the tiger answered worriedly.  “She must have been shocked by whatever that is,” he said, pointing at the door.

 

Snarf bounced up on his tail and stared at the energy field.  “Sna-a-arf!  What is that, and why is it blocking the way to the kids’ playroom?”

 

Tygra meanwhile lifted Cheetara’s head and cradled it in his lap.  “Please wake up,” he urged her gently.  Snarf hopped down and sat beside the fallen cheetah, giving her a hard nudge.

 

Fortunately that was enough to jar the cheetah back into consciousness.  She groaned softly and stirred, opened her eyes and focused on Tygra.  “Tygra?  What… ugh, what hit me?”

 

“That,” Snarf told her, pointing to the electrified door with his tail.

 

Struggling to sit up, Cheetara then remembered what had happened, and she shakily got to her feet.  “Chet,” she told them urgently.  “He’s in there, and I think he’s hurt.  We have to get him!”

 

“Wait,” Tygra said, also standing and placing a hand of caution on Cheetara’s shoulder.  “First we have to figure out what that is before we try breaking through it, otherwise one of us is going to wind up knocked out again, or worse.”

 

Cheetara winced with a bit with some residual pain from the shock.  “If we don’t get in there now, my cub might be the one that winds up worse, and I don’t want to take that risk.”

 

“But who did this?” Snarf asked, eyeing the sparking energy field warily.  “Not just anyone can get in the Lair, and certainly not just anyone can do something like that.”

 

Snarf Clarece’s words about WilyKit echoed in Tygra’s head.  “Drive out the evil that possesses her.” 

 

“No,” Tygra mumbled softly to himself.  “She wouldn’t do that... she couldn’t…”

 

Cheetara looked over at Tygra abruptly.  “What?”

 

“Who?” Snarf echoed.

 

“Never mind.  It’s not important now,” Tygra replied, pushing the disturbing thought aside for the moment.  “Cheetara’s right, we have to get Chet out of there if he’s trapped.”  And find out who did attack him, the tiger added silently.  And pray that it wasn’t WilyKit.  Unfortunately he was not so sure that it was not.

 

Snarf bounced up on his tail again, his eyes nervously fixed upon the glowing field covering the door.  “But how?”

 

Tygra frowned, also studying the pulsing block of energy.  “If we could somehow drain that field and bleed its energy away, we might be able to weaken it enough for us to break open the door and allow someone to pass through.”

 

“I’ll run through,” Cheetara volunteered. 

 

Tygra eyed the cheetah with concern, unsure of the wisdom of risking giving her a second shock even if as a cheetah she was the fastest of the three of them.  “Cheetara—”

 

“No, Tygra,” she cut him off.  “I’m all right, and I am the fastest of all of us.  Besides, I’ve already experienced how that energy field works, and this time I’ll know what to expect.”  She watched it pulse, and prepared herself for a second tangle with it.  “It’s like a net in a way.  The longer you’re in it, the more it works to keep you tangled inside it.  But if you two can divert the energy enough, it might be weak enough that I could run through and get Chet.  If he’s all right, I can take a minute to recover, and run back through with him.”

 

“All right then,” Tygra agreed.  The tiger glanced into one of the other open rooms in the hallway and was struck with an idea of how to bleed the energy off of the field.  He darted in and motioned for Snarf to follow him.  “Snarf, I want you to tear all the bedding off this bed.  You’re going to throw it onto that energy field piece by piece to draw its energy.”

 

Immediately Snarf began stripping the bed as asked.  “Okay, Tygra.”

 

“And while you do that,” Tygra continued, “I’m going to reach into the field and open the door.  I’ll get shocked, but at the same time, I’ll draw a chunk of the energy away—and that’s when you run through and get to Chet,” he said to Cheetara.

 

Cheetara nodded.  “I’m ready when you two are.”

 

Snarf dragged a wad of blankets and sheets into the hallway.  “Rowr, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

Tygra fixed his eyes on the door and prepared himself.  “Now then, Snarf.”

 

Snarf let out a nervous whimper, balled up the first of the blankets, and threw them right into the field.  Instantly the field came ablaze with sparks and crackles, glowing most brightly around the invading fabric.  Tygra took a deep breath and thrust his hand into the orange-yellow glow and grasped the doorknob.  A painful surge tore through him like a lightning bolt, making his every hair stand on end and his skin feel as though it were on fire.  It was all the tiger could do to make himself turn the knob, but somehow he managed to find the strength to do it, and the door clicked open.  Without wasting a second, Cheetara broke into a full run and charged through the weakened barrier.  It stung her badly, but she refused to let herself feel it, and focused on her cub instead, laying still on the floor in the center of the room.  As soon as she was through, the weakened Tygra withdrew his hand and fell to the floor, gasping for breath as he tried to recover.  Snarf went to the tiger’s side immediately.

 

Once she was inside the playroom it took only seconds for Cheetara to reach Chet.  The cub was flattened against the floor gasping desperately for each breath, as though he were pinned beneath some great weight that she could not see.  Cheetara bent over the boy and tried to pick him up, but it felt like the cub had suddenly gained a hundred pounds in weight.  There’s a force field over him too, she realized with rising panic.  The cheetah knew of only one soul whose powers worked in such ways, and who would also be vicious enough to use it on a child—Torlei.  Or more specifically, Torlei and Mumm-Ra together.  The two names WilyKat had spoken in her vision.

 

So they are behind this, and behind what happened to the twins and the Lunatacs of the Third Moon.  The realization was a dreadful one, but at that point not unexpected.  The cheetah had learned long ago that it was unwise to underestimate Mumm-Ra.

 

Cheetara took a deep breath, took hold of Chet, and pulled, lifting him with all her remaining strength.  It felt to her more like she was moving a space carrier full of bricks than the gentle weight of her cub, but finally the Thundercat managed to pull him out from underneath the telekinetic weight field.  When Chet broke free of the invisible force, he tumbled into Cheetara’s arms awkwardly, knocking both of them onto the floor.  The boy took several deep gasps of air while his relieved mother held him and stroked his mane.  “Chet, who did this to you?  Did you see?”

 

The child wiped the panicked tears out of his eyes and met those of his mother.  “It was WilyKit.”

 

* * *

 

When they rounded the corner and saw the mess of the hallway surrounding and door leading to the sword chamber, Lion-O and Bengali both let out audible gasps of shock.  “By Thundera!” Lion-O exclaimed.  “Who did this?”

 

“Or what?” Bengali asked with a growl, examining the metal.  “By the looks of it, it was something strong.”

 

“And powerful.”  The Thundercat Lord eyed the force field covering the door and walls of the sword chamber with rising dread.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it reminds me of one of Mumm-Ra’s spells.”

 

Bengali frowned and shifted uneasily.  “But Mumm-Ra was banished.  We haven’t seen a sign of him in years.”

 

Lion-O sighed.  “But we’ve thought that before and been wrong.  Remember, it’s been less time since the Battle of the Swords than it was between that and my confrontation with him in the Book of Omens.  And if this is his doing…”

 

Unable to resist the temptation to keep his presence hidden any longer, Mumm-Ra’s smug and sinister voice filled the hallway, although the demon priest himself was nowhere to be seen.  “You’re all doomed!”

 

At the unwelcome sound announcing the presence of the Ever-Living Source of Evil, Bengali let out an aggressive growl and swung his fist threateningly at the air.  “So it is you!  Show yourself, you coward!”

 

The only response to the tiger’s challenge was the also-too-familiar sound of the undead mage’s maniacal laughter echoing throughout the hallway, mocking them. 

 

“Appear and we’ll give you something to laugh about, Mumm-Ra,” Lion-O shouted angrily.  The lion extended his arm toward the sparking wall of the sword chamber.  “Sword of Omens, come to my hand!”

 

To Bengali’s shock, Lion-O’s horror, and Mumm-Ra’s delight, nothing happened in response to the Thundercat Lord’s impassioned summons.

 

Fighting back a rising feeling of dread, Lion-O repeated his call a bit louder.  “Sword of Omens,” he shouted, “Come to my hand!  I, Lion-O, Lord of the Thundercats, command you!”

 

Again the call went unbidden.

 

More cruel laughter filled the hallway.  “Oh, have you lost your sword, Lion-O?” Mumm-Ra taunted mockingly.  “That’s too bad!  It would have worked nicely as a flashlight!”

 

At that statement, Lion-O and Bengali exchanged puzzled looks.  “Flashlight?” Lion-O murmured.

 

And then, throughout all of Cat’s Lair, the lights and power went out.

 

* * *

 

Back in the control room, Panthro and the two ambassadors along with Snoelle and Pumyra, who had stopped in shortly after Lion-O and Bengali had departed, were still trying in vain to make the communications center operational again when they were plunged into darkness.

 

“Damn it!” Panthro swore with an infuriated growl, slamming his hand onto the console.

 

“What happened?” Snoelle asked, whirling around in her seat toward the others.

 

Chamela tapped her claws against the back of the chair next to her.  “A power outage, it would sssseem,” she said, stating the obvious.

 

Pumyra poked her head out the door and down the hallway, and flipped the switch at the door several times fruitlessly.  “In here and in the hall too,” the puma added.  “Even the emergency lighting didn’t come on.”

 

“That shouldn’t happen,” Panthro asserted irritably. 

 

Snoelle frowned in the darkness.  “Nor should our communications be down, but they are.”

 

“I know,” the panther growled.  “What in blazes is going on around here?”

 

Lushara surveyed the room in the darkness, the darkling being the only one of the group not hindered by the complete lack of natural light.  “We may be about to find out the hard way,” the Lunatac said in a low tone.

 

Chamela flicked her tail in a reptilian gesture of agreement, and took a few steps toward the door.  “If I may make a sssugestion, Thundercats, we may want to get our weapons and find your Lord and Thundercat Bengali.”

 

Snoelle stood with a frown.  “A wise idea, Ambassador,” the snow leopard agreed.  “And since the intercom won’t work, we should go together, and gather in the central hall where it’s open.  From there we can find everyone else in the Lair easily once we’re armed.”

 

From the doorway, Pumyra sighed.  “Our weapons—it’s been a long time since we needed those.”

 

“Let’s hope we still don’t,” Panthro said, heading out into the darkened hall beyond the control room.  “But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.  Let’s go,” he said, pausing for a moment by Lushara.  “Ambassador, since this is your element, I don’t suppose you’d mind leading the way?”

 

The quiet darkling gave a nod of consent and stepped to the front of the group, opening her red eyes wide in the darkness.  “Of course.  Just tell me where you need to go.”

 

“This way,” Panthro directed, and the five of them left the control room for the darkened hallway.  As it turned out, it would be for the last time.

 

* * *

 

Torlei was alone in another one of Cat’s Lair’s numerous corridors when the power went out.  The female ever-living stopped mid-stride and looked around, telepathically searching for the presence of her partner in crime.  Invisible, but not undetectable to her, she sensed him standing behind her.  “Darling,” she whispered into the darkness, “is this your handiwork?”

 

“But of course it is, my dear,” Mumm-Ra replied with a satisfied cackle.  “I thought we might have more fun in the dark.”

 

A cruel grin spread across Torlei’s host’s feline features.  “Darkness adds a delicious element of fear, even though I doubt Thundercats are terribly afraid of the dark.  Except for perhaps the small ones,” she murmured as she passed by the Lair’s kitchen and spied a lone female cub inside.  The undead psi searched WilyKit’s awareness for the child’s name.  “Like that one,” she added, “Pumari.”

 

Mumm-Ra leaned across his bride’s shoulder and followed her line of sight.  “Since you seem to be having such a good time, I’ll leave you to take care of her while I go and bring down the house on Lion-O and his miserable feline entourage.”

 

Torlei giggled maliciously.  “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mumm-Ra replied, giving the shoulder of her host body a squeeze before he vanished, leaving her alone once again.

 

The female ever-living wasted no time and entered the kitchen, able to see as clearly in the darkness as the visiting Lunatac upstairs thanks to the dark gifts of her ancient masters.  Torlei remained silent and surveyed the room until her eyes spied a large wooden block full of an array of sharp cooking knives.  She strode over to the counter and slid her fingers along the handle of one of the longest.  Now this is something with potential if the right opportunity were to arise...

 

“WilyKit?” Pumari’s young voice interrupted Torlei’s thoughts as she approached.  “What’re you doing up?  I thought you were in bed.  Do you know why the power’s out?”

 

Torlei turned sharply and faced the cub as the girl rattled off her list of questions and turned the knife in her hands over, examining the silvery, temptingly sharp blade in her hands.  Slowly she turned her gaze down toward the child, caressing the knife in her fingers.  “I woke up,” she answered, assuming the more friendly tone of voice that WilyKit would speak in.

 

“Oh.  But why’d the power go out?” Pumari persisted, nibbling on a candyfruit macaroon she had just helped herself to conveniently with the power out and Snarf absent from the kitchen to shoo her away from the cookie jar.  “It’s kinda spooky in here.” 

 

A vicious smile of unspeakable intent spread across WilyKit’s features as Torlei leaned toward Pumari with the knife in hand.  “Are you afraid of what’s in the shadows, Pumari?” she whispered, her tone taking an edge as icy as the hand of death itself.

 

Pumari felt a shiver of apprehension, even though the kitchen was far from cold.  “No,” she told the one she thought was WilyKit, faking bravery she wished she actually felt at the moment.  “Thundercats aren’t afraid.” 

 

“Of course not.”  WilyKit’s voice was deceptively soft and innocent as she lifted the knife.

 

Although she did not really see the knife clearly in the darkness, Pumari backed away from Torlei’s malevolent presence on instinct.  “WilyKit, what are you doing?”  The cub’s voice was nervous and apprehensive.

 

“Come to me, Pumari,” Torlei urged gently.  “It’ll be all right.”

 

“But what are you doing?” she repeated.  “What are you holding?”

 

“It’s a surprise,” she whispered mysteriously.  “Come here and see.”

 

Pumari took another step backward rather than forward, feeling a fresh wave of fear.  “But… but what is—?”

 

Torlei narrowed her eyes and raised the knife higher, ready to strike.  “It’s something you really deserve, dear child.” 

 

At that moment the assembled group of Thundercats and ambassadors, on their way back from the weapons room with the three Thundercats among them armed with their Thundercat weaponry and Ambassador Chamela with a flashlight, stopped in the doorway.  The darkling Lushara had spotted two heat signatures and the group had stopped in to make sure that those inside were all right, but none of the five were prepared for the startling sight of a maniacal WilyKit about to plunge a sharp steel knife into the unaware Pumari’s young neck, highlighted by the ominous glint of the flashlight beam off of the steel blade.  It was at that moment that Pumari caught sight of the blade above her, and let out an earsplitting shriek of terror.

 

Furious that she had lost her element of surprise, Torlei let out an angry snarl and slashed the blade in the child’s direction.

 

Pumyra the swift took no time to consider why WilyKit would do such a thing to her child, instead she simply acted.  The puma darted forward and leapt in front of the blade, shoving Pumari out of the way before the cub could be cut.  Instead the knife slashed a deep wound into the puma’s own forearm, but she did not even feel it for all the adrenaline surging through her.  Meanwhile both Panthro and Chamela were on WilyKit in a flash.  The panther made a flying tackle and pinned her to the ground, while the reptilian forced the knife out of her hands and smacked it with her tail so that it sailed well out of reach.  Torlei snarled in outrage and struggled beneath those restraining her, but they had the momentary advantage in both force and mass. 

 

“WilyKit!” Panthro shouted.  “What in the name of Jaga were you thinking?”

 

Quietly Lushara retrieved the knife from the floor while Snoelle went to Pumyra’s side.  The puma was bleeding badly, her arm coated in a stream of crimson fluid, so the snow leopard handed her a cloth dish towel to wrap it in.  Pumari leaned against her mother’s side crying, and all eyes in the room remained on WilyKit, Panthro, and Chamela, wrestling on the tiled floor.

 

“Get off of me, subcreatures,” WilyKit snarled in a voice so full of hate and rage it did not even sound like her own to those that knew her.

 

Panthro and Chamela held WilyKit in place as best they could, but even for the strongest of Thundercats and a reptilian Mutant, it was difficult—more difficult than it should have been—to keep her pinned to the floor.  When did she get this strong, anyway? Panthro wondered.  “Not until you tell me why you tried to hurt Pumari, WilyKit,” the panther asserted.  “What’s going on with you?  What would possess you to do such a thing?” he demanded angrily.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Torlei sneered back at the Thundercat, and summoned her telekinetic powers to throw him and the reptilian off of her.  The panther reeled as though he had been struck in the gut and fell back and away from her, momentarily stunned, while Chamela’s slighter form went sailing back several feet and collided with one of the cabinets. 

 

Lushara pulled the Mutant back onto her feet, while Snoelle lunged at the out of control WilyKit.  WilyKit’s body was a touch faster, however, and Torlei managed to scramble to her feet before the snow leopard could reach her.  “Nice try, Spots,” Torlei sneered, and sent a heavy canister of flour flying off of a nearby shelf and toward Snoelle’s head.  Snoelle caught the motion out of the corner of her eye and ducked in time, but it crashed into the wall and sent a spray of white powder into the air, making those nearby close their eyes and cough after inadvertently inhaling some.

 

Snoelle regained her balance and stared WilyKit in shock.  “What’s happened to you?”

 

“Oh, what’s the matter?” Torlei mocked.  “Can’t understand why your dear, sweet WilyKit is acting this way, hmm?”

 

“No we can’t,” Pumyra retorted heatedly, angry tears glistening in her eyes.  “What the in the name of Thundera has come over you?”

 

Torlei took a step back to better survey the chaos she’d started.  The distraught and confused expressions of the Thundercats and the clueless faces of the two ambassadors were just as delightful to watch as the ones of those back on the Third Moon had been.  The ever-living let out a dark chuckle.  “You Thundercats are so naïve.  Do you really think that the girl’s blood would have been the first on her hands?  Do you know what your beloved WilyKit did during her disappearance, when she was on the Third Moon of Plundarr the first time around?”

 

Snoelle knew that it would be dangerous to encourage the crazed Thundercat’s tirade, but she—as did the others—also wanted to hear the answer.  Perhaps that was what WilyKit needed to snap out of her psychotic episode, the snow leopard reasoned.   “What?  What did you do?”

 

“You’re all such fools and hypocrites,” Torlei said with cold laughter.  “Your Grune was the only one to wise up to the reality of it.  You stand here pretending to offer comfort and concern for your poor dear WilyKit, but the truth is that if you knew the truth, you would shun her and turn her away, just like you did to Grune.  The truth is that you don’t really want to know what she’s done or why, because that would shatter your happy little image of her and yourselves into a thousand pieces.”

 

The two ambassadors exchanged looks and frowned at her words.  Lushara leaned toward Chamela.  “Did you notice that she’s referring to herself in third person?”

 

The reptilian nodded silently, and made a subtle gesture with her fingers used on both Plundarr and its’ Moons to indicate that she considered the Thundercat crazy. 

 

“That’s not true,” Panthro argued, stepping forward.  “That’s not the WilyKit we know and I won’t hear it.  We love you, WilyKit, and we’ve never wanted to do anything but help you.”

 

“Help?  Help?” the possessed WilyKit hollered.  “It’s too late for help, Panthro!  Maybe you should have thought about helping when she disappeared.”

 

“WilyKit, we did try to help you!” Snoelle exclaimed.  “You don’t know how many endless days we spent searching for you after you vanished.  You didn’t see how many nights your brother—”

 

“Screw him,” Torlei snarled.  Her feelings on her own brother made her less than sympathetic toward sibling bonds as it was, and while she really did not care one way or another about her host’s relationship with her twin, she knew it would hurt the Thundercats to see that damaged, so she plucked bits from WilyKit’s awareness to feed her own rage and twist it to suit the situation.  “Where was her dear brother when she needed him?  Was he at her side as he should have been?  Was he loyal?  Oh no—he was wrapped up in himself,” she said hatefully.  “Wrapped up in his own life, chasing after that lion bitch of his, that’s what he was doing!”

 

“Calm down,” Snoelle urged.  “WilyKat loves you, and you know that.  We all know that.  How can you stand there and say such things?  What’s happened to you?”

 

A malicious and knowing grin spread across WilyKit’s features.  “Silly snow leopard,” she taunted, “I bet if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

 

“Tell ussss anyway,” Chamela challenged, keeping a careful eye on her, and noting that Lushara had a careful grip on the knife she had taken from her early, ready to use it if need be.  “Make usss understand.”

 

Panthro took a step toward her.  “Look at us, WilyKit—we’re not the enemy.  We’re your friends.  Your family.  Your fellow Thundercats!  No matter what’s happened, or what you’ve done, we can get through it.”

 

Through WilyKit’s crazed eyes, Torlei surveyed the faces of the Thundercats in front of her, taking cruel delight in the shock and hurt evident in their eyes.  “Can we really?” she mocked.  “After your dear WilyKit tried to slice that little brat to ribbons?” she snarled, pointing at Pumari.  Pumyra instinctively pulled the girl closer to her when she looked at her, and Torlei basked in cruel satisfaction at the confirmation that she was destroying the Thundercats’ trust in her host before she destroyed them altogether.

 

“What about her tawdry little affair with the hunter, who seduced and had his way with her, every way he could with her, feeding first her carnal lust and awakening her blood lust?  Can you accept that?” Torlei challenged.  “And what about the half-breed cub she carries right now, the one whose very existence will serve only to remind all of you of this very moment—and the harsh truth that she went through all the trouble of faking a memory loss to hide in the first place?”

 

“Faking!” Pumyra breathed, completely aghast.  “You were faking that?”  The puma’s lip trembled as she pondered the implications of that statement, and she tightened her protective grip on Pumari once more.  After the too-close brush with the knife, her maternal instincts overrode her Thundercat sense of fairness and forgiveness for the time being, and she looked at WilyKit with accusing eyes.  “Why?  Why would you do that to us?”

 

Torlei plastered an exaggerated apologetic pout on WilyKit’s face.  “Perhaps ‘faked’ isn’t the right word for it… but she did feel so guilty about going on the Hunt that she had a Lunatac hypnotist—a dear, close friend of her lover’s and ironically, one most of you know quite well—make her forget her troubles.”

 

“Hypnotist?” murmured Snoelle.

 

“Who?  Alluro?” Panthro asked, clearly baffled.  Alluro was the only Lunatac hypnotist he knew by name. 

 

Lushara blinked with surprise, both at the revelation that a Thundercat had participated in something like the Hunt, and that Psiarik’s father was involved in the whole mess.  The darkling had known Alluro for several years and his son for many more, and she knew that the hypnotist had a shady past and that he was friends with Chief Ambassador Darkail, but everything else was news to her—especially that said Chief Ambassador was sleeping with a Thundercat.  So that’s what his “personal business” that kept him on the Third Moon and sent me here instead was, she thought.  Personal indeed.  “Well I’ll be damned,” the darkling muttered with a shake of her head. 

 

“But we asked them over there on the Third Moon,” Panthro continued, still focused on WilyKit.  “If Alluro had done it, Selene would have told us.”

 

At that, Torlei burst out laughing.  “And Lunatacs always tell the truth, don’t they?” she sneered with a cold glare at the darkling ambassador.  Torlei knew that the Lunar Queen had told them the truth as best she knew it, but why let the opportunity to throw in another sting of betrayal pass?

 

“When it suits our needs, we do,” Lushara pointed out coldly, “and I highly doubt Selene had any reason to lie to them.”

 

Pumyra glared at the possessed Thundercat.  “How could you do this to us, WilyKit?”

 

“Quite easily,” Torlei replied, her own tone icy and emotionless.  “Once you’ve bashed someone’s brains in and committed cold-blooded murder, it’s amazing how trivial a lie or a rationalization seems after that.”

 

“No,” Panthro growled stubbornly.  “Our WilyKit would never—could never—do something like that.  If she ever killed anyone, it would only be in self-defense or as a casualty of battle.”

 

Torlei’s eyes sparkled with gleeful hatred at the panther’s firm faith in the younger Thundercat.  “I can see how desperately you’d like to believe that.  But sorry, Panthro, you’re wrong.  Dead wrong,” the ever-living laughed maliciously.  “And since you’re about to join him in the afterlife, why don’t you look up a Lunatac named Demrock and ask him about it?  I’m sure he’ll be all too happy to tell you the rest.”  Torlei stretched out WilyKit’s arms, summoned her telekinetic powers once again, and hurled the entire block of cutlery on the counter in the spectators’ direction.

 

Pumari screamed when she saw the knives fly through the air, and Pumyra threw both herself and her child to the ground, out of the way.  Panthro and Snoelle also dove for the floor, in opposite directions, while Lushara ducked behind an angled countertop and Chamela nimbly leapt up onto it and out of the path of the knives.  A cleaver landed dangerously close to one of Pumari’s hands, but mercifully missed her fingers and embedded itself in the floor tile instead.  Pumyra meanwhile narrowly rolled out of the way a steak knife headed straight for her forehead.  Unfortunately Snoelle was not quite as fast as the puma and her cub, and a serrated butcher knife tore a long and jagged line into her furred flesh, wedging itself painfully deep in her leg.  The snow leopard yowled in pain, and Panthro, distracted by his mate’s cry of agony, scrambled to her side to shield her from further harm as a carving knife grazed his back and stuck in a table leg with an ominous thwack.

 

Less than a second after the last knife missed its’ mark, Pumyra leapt on the counter, snarling furiously.  “I don’t care what you’ve been through,” she growled at WilyKit.  “Nobody throws a knife at my cub!  If you won’t come to your senses on your own, then I’m going to knock you out of them before you hurt anyone else!  You’re acting like an animal!”  The puma then leapt aggressively at the possessed WilyKit.

 

Unimpressed by the puma’s outburst, Torlei cast her hand to one side, projecting enough telekinetic force in the feline’s direction to knock Pumyra to the floor mid-leap.  “Animal, am I?” she sneered, bending over to retrieve one of the fallen knives, “well then, kitty, why don’t we see if you’re as good a hunter as I know WilyKit is?”  A twisted smile spread across her lips as she backed toward the door in the darkness of the unlit kitchen.  “You want a piece of me, Thundercat?  Come and get me.”  And then, with speed that WilyKit should not have had, she retreated through the back door of the kitchen into the pitch-dark hallway beyond, on the loose in Cat’s Lair once more.

 

 

Continued

 

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