Revival
(Revised Edition, January 2009)
by Cheezey
Part One: Memories
After an uneventful landing, the door of the Lunatacs’ ship slid open, and the six renegades stepped onto the soil of the Third Moon of Plundarr for the first time in over thirty years. The sun shone brightly in the sky above, a sky that was colored in a pale purple hue unlike Third Earth’s blue sky. “I’d almost forgotten what it looked like…” Luna mused as she took in the sight with much older and more tired eyes than had last looked upon it.
Their greeting party was a regal looking white-haired young lunar man, no older than twenty standard years at a guess, and his companion of a decorated brute beast. The lunar was well-defined in physique and on the tall side for his race, which was still rather short by most standards even if he did have a good foot of height on Luna, who had been afflicted since birth with unusually petite stature. As he approached, the brute remained a few steps behind him. “Welcome to the capitol, fellow Lunar-Plundarrians. I’m Prince Silvian,” he greeted them in a warm and amiable tone. “How long have you been away from the Moons?”
Ignoring his question and her manners, Luna eyed the man in dubious surprise. “You’re the prince?”
“Since I was born,” he quipped in response, seemingly unfazed by her less than proper greeting for him. He had not decided whether to be offended by her or not, so he chose to wait for her response before deciding.
Luna eyed him with a curious and evaluating look as she attempted to discern which branch of the royal family he hailed from. Being an indirect descendant of the royal line herself, she was certain she would know who he was a relation to once he gave a name or two. “What happened to King Lunaro and Queen Sileira?” she asked, giving the names of the rulers that had been in power when she had last been on the Moons.
Chalking her earlier rudeness up to culture shock given how long he guessed she must have been away given that she named the rulers that had perished in the Thundera explosion disasters, Silvian relaxed and smiled. “You have been away for a while. They were my parents, but they died years ago when the old capitol was destroyed.”
“I see.” Luna nodded, suddenly feeling quite old. Back in her time, Lunaro and Sileira had no children. “And you’re not the king, but the prince?” she questioned, curious as to who held the ruling title given that the Moons were never without an acting king or queen. Someone was always crowned with one of the titles, even if underage.
“My older sister Selene is the queen,” Silvian explained to Luna. “She and I were the only surviving heirs in the royal family after the disasters, aside from one or two of my cousins out in more remote territory, and their claim to the throne is nothing compared to ours.” He gestured for Luna and her companions to follow him into the building called the MoonTower. “Back when it all started—”
“You mean when Thundera blew up,” RedEye interjected.
“Yes, then,” Silvian went on, politely ignoring the fact that he had been interrupted, “during the first wave of the destruction, that mountain over there, where the royal palace used to sit at the foot of, became an active volcano and blew half the city apart. What still stood of the palace was then covered in lava. Nobody in the area survived.”
“Damn,” TugMug said quietly, shaking his head. He remembered the Third Moon’s capitol city in its full glory, and he found it strange to think of it all brought to a halt in one deadly flash.
“According to our best census estimates, only four percent of the population survived the first six months after the disasters. And that’s all over the Moons, not just here on Dasanalith. Of course, we’ve grown since then. Some Lunatacs lucky enough to live off-world, like you, have come home since then, and a lot of babies have been born. Now that food supplies are stable and most of our settlements are secure, official policy is to discourage birth control so our population rises again. I’m sure the Plundarr Mutants and felines of Thundera are breeding litter upon litter on litter, especially the cats with that new world of theirs. We don’t want to be overrun when they grow up and start looking past their own borders.”
Alluro grimaced. “Overrun with Thunderians and Mutants, now there’s a nauseating thought.”
Silvian nodded as they walked through an archway and continued down a hallway. “Frostor—our Governor General—put a lot of good policies like that into place. He’s our unofficial leader, and I don’t know where Selene and I would be without his input. He’s the one who oversaw and organized all the survivors in the capitol when everything happened. Selene and I were just children then, but even now we figure he might as well keep the well-oiled machine running. If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it, like the saying goes—of course they probably don’t have a Mutant tinkerer in their basement like we do though.” The prince chortled knowingly. “And like I said before, Selene and I are all that’s left of the royal family for the most part. Even our court and support staff was pretty much wiped out when the mountaintop blew.” His voice took on a wistful tone. “My sister and I happened to be out in the orchards on the other side of the city for an outing. Our governess thought we could use a break from schooling and time to play outside away from the palace. If we hadn’t been there, we’d have been coated in lava with everyone else there.” Silvian turned and met the eyes of his guests. “Can you imagine? Being buried alive in lava?”
Much to Silvian’s surprise, RedEye had an answer to his rhetorical question. “Better than you think,” the darkling muttered.
Luna cast RedEye a sharp look before speaking up again. “The old palace completely destroyed. I never would’ve imagined it. It had been there for centuries. Some of the original structure supposedly dated to the era of Luran the Conqueror.”
“Yeah, but even so, it’s long gone now. Now it’s just a tomb. None of us could ever build on those grounds again.” Eager for a change of subject from that depressing topic, Silvian turned toward his guests as they entered a grand chamber that served as a room to meet and host visitors. “So I take it the group of you left the Moons shortly before the disasters of Thundera’s explosion?”
“No, longer than that,” Chilla, who had remained a silent observer until that point, spoke up.
Silvian faced the icewalker, only then taking full notice of her appearance. “Pardon me, but have we ever met before, maybe in passing? You look very familiar.”
“Not likely,” she rasped in response to the prince. “We were gone for a good three decades. Longer than you’ve even been around, I’m sure.”
“Oh,” the puzzled Silvian answered, still trying to piece together why the ice woman seemed like someone he ought to know. “So you must’ve been a young child when you left the Moons?”
Chilla let out a frosty laugh as the reality of her own time shift due to their entrapment by Mumm-Ra on Third Earth hit home. “No, I was almost twenty.”
“What?” Silvian blinked with surprise, and then smirked at her. “No, you’re kidding me. I know you can’t be that old,” he said, noting Chilla’s attractive face and figure of a woman in her prime.
She was flattered by his remark, but did not take the flirtation in it the least bit seriously. “We didn’t age normally. We were in a kind of—suspension—for about fifteen years. We look younger than we are if you go by when we were born.”
“Incredible! You must have some great stories to tell,” Silvian said enthusiastically. “We don’t get all that many interesting guests around here, unless you count the traders, but who can believe half of what they say when they’re trying to sell you something?” He motioned for them to sit and get comfortable, and for a servant to get them refreshments. “Most of the time our visitors are representatives from the other moons, and they can be dreadfully dull when they start droning on and on.”
“We know all about leaders that drone on and on,” TugMug quipped, much to the merriment of his cohorts that were not Luna.
Fortunately for TugMug, Silvian did not catch on to the barb and answered before Luna could put her two cents in. “Well, even they’re better than meetings with Mutants. We had a couple border disputes not long ago that took forever to resolve.”
Alluro sniffled with condescension. “Mutants. My condolences.”
“Tell me about it,” Silvian said smoothly, taking a sip of the drink of he had just been handed. “Our resident scientific adviser is actually an avian from Plundarr, and he has some, hmm, how shall I put it—unsavory—acquaintances? Oh I’ll be blunt, they’re a bunch of rowdy losers. Vultureman himself has his moments too, but he is a genius, and worth keeping around.”
The Lunatacs stiffened and exchanged looks at the mention of Vultureman’s name. “Vultureman works for the Moons’ government?” Alluro asked.
Silvian’s brow rose. “Oh, do you know him?” The prince then did a double-take of the hypnotist, that time noticing a familiarity in him, although unlike with Chilla, he was able to place that one immediately. “Say, do you have any family from this area?”
The inquiry led Alluro to think of Torlei, and his expression darkened. “No. Not anymore.”
“Oh,” Silvian said, and shrugged. “I wondered because you look quite a bit like someone I know. Are you sure you don’t have any relations that might’ve moved here while you were away?”
“I said I didn’t,” the psi insisted, frowning. What was it with Luna’s type that was never satisfied with a simple answer of “no” anyway, Alluro wondered.
“Heh, okay.” Silvian shrugged the matter off, but Luna was not content to let it drop, as her curiosity had been roused.
“Who does he remind you of, Prince Silvian?”
“My brother-in-law.”
Luna blinked in surprise at the revelation that the prince had a psi brother-in-law. Marriages of lunar royalty outside of the noble bloodline were rare, and cross-race unions were unheard of amongst the high rank and file of the Moons. She wondered if it was the prince who had married a psi woman, or if it was his sister that had taken a psi man for a husband. Times certainly have changed, Luna mused. She could only imagine how the departed King Lunaro and Queen Sileira would have taken such an event. In a cruel way the thought of their astral disgust amused her.
The conversation was interrupted when a slight lunar woman with smoothly-styled wavy purple hair entered the room. It was clear that she was a relation to Silvian, and Luna could see traces of the Moons’ former rulers in her features as well. Her style of dress and bearing were typical of Third Moon royalty, and if one looked closely, they would not be surprised to learn that she was also a relation to Luna. Her eyes did not have the same jaded cynicism and viciousness that Luna’s did, however, even if they were similarly shaped and colored.
“So, are these our guests?” she asked Silvian as she joined his side. She was almost the same height as he, and it was an easy guess that she was the sister he had mentioned, Queen Selene, current ruler of the Moons.
The prince nodded. “This is my sister, Queen Selene,” he introduced her, and then gestured to the Lunatacs. “Selene, these are…” His voice trailed off as he realized only then that he had not bothered to ask their names. “Er, I actually didn’t get your names, did I?” He grimaced. “Sorry. Protocol isn’t my strong suit. I blame it on the fact that my governess died along with everyone else in the palace when I was eight.”
The queen’s eyes went wide. “Silvian!” she berated her brother, shaking her head at the second, and far worse, infraction of manners.
“Well it’s true,” he grumbled. “Sorry. I’ve been told I have a big mouth sometimes.”
When none of the Lunatacs said anything, wisely figuring that agreeing the prince was rude might put them off on the wrong foot with the royalty they found themselves in the company of, Selene took it as her cue to take over. “My little brother does have the manners of a Mutant at times, but we love him anyway,” she said with a light laugh. “Please, take this opportunity to introduce yourselves. Who are you, and what brings you to the capitol area?” She paused and added after noticing the same familiarities amongst her guests that her brother had, “are any of you from around here?” Her gaze fell on Alluro. “You look so much like my husband it’s incredible. Do you have family nearby?”
Alluro sighed audibly, not wanting to repeat himself after just having the same conversation with Prince Silvian. “No. But he did mention I resembled his brother-in-law.”
“Indeed you do,” Selene said with a smile. “And you, your name is…” She looked at Chilla.
“Chilla,” the icewalker responded succinctly.
“Chilla,” Selene repeated, “a pleasure. If you don’t mind me saying so, you look just like this old painting that used to hang in the halls of the palace of a renowned court ice mage from a few generations back.”
Taken aback, Chilla responded, “Really?”
“That’s it!” Silvian exclaimed. “I knew you looked familiar! You do look a lot like that old portrait of Chillandra. Except without the braid. Thank you, that was driving me nuts.”
“Speaking of paintings,” Selene said, continuing her brother’s tangent and turning towards Luna, “you remind me of another one from the palace. Please don’t take offense, though, I mean it only in comparison, but there was a life-size portrait of Queen Luna that you’re the spitting image of. Not that you’re any kind of tyrant like her, I’m sure,” she finished with a diplomatic wave.
Silvian took another drink, oblivious to the Lunatacs’ growing unease at the mention of Luna’s grandmother. “You’re right! She does look like old Queen Luna—old in that she was six generations ago, not old as in decrepit, I know how you ladies can be about your age.” Silvian winked in her direction. “She was the one that was exiled to Third Earth in a coup, only to be magically blasted back by a mummy called Mumm-Rana, right?”
“I think that was how the story went,” Selene said with a nod.
“One of the more interesting ones our governess drilled into us about family history. Apparently she also had a granddaughter that was run off the Moons for leading a ring of organized crime,” he said with a chuckle.
While discussing the black sheep of the royal family apparently amused Silvian and his sister, the newly arrived Lunatacs found it unsettling, and began to exchange nervous looks. A moment later two other Lunatacs, an icewalker and a psi that must have been the Alluro look-alike that Silvian and Selene had mentioned, walked in. The psi man held what looked like a ceremonial sword in his hands, although he did not carry it in a manner that implied any reverence or intent to use it as a weapon. “What’s so funny?” he asked as he joined the royal siblings.
“Nothing really,” Selene said, and then offered her guests a contrite look. “Oh, now I’m the one being rude to our guests. My apologies.” She nodded to them and the Lunatacs, choosing to remain quiet until directly addressed, nodded back. Selene then turned to the psi. “We were just talking about how our new friend there reminded us of the portrait of Queen Luna in the old palace.”
The icewalker, a gruff-looking man in his fifties wearing a uniform of high rank, let out a frosty chortle. “Ah, a name from my pre-disaster days of being a historian. I wrote my thesis on Queen Luna’s granddaughter, who was also named Luna,” he said glancing at Luna as if to verify the resemblance to the historical figure. “Queen Luna was a piece of work, and her granddaughter did her legacy proud. What a hard-hearted bitch she was, let me tell you.” He shook his head. “Her gang was an unruly bunch of societal degenerates too. Fascinating, but I’m not sure I’d have wanted to meet them unarmed in a dark alley, especially in the part of town they operated.”
Unable to hold her tongue any longer at the personal insult, unintended as it was, Luna snapped at the ice man. “Watch it!”
Alluro stepped as close as he could get to Luna without stepping on Amok. “Cool it, Luna,” he warned in a tone low enough for only her to hear.
However, Luna was never one be told what to do, especially when it was her pride on the line. Ignoring Alluro, she prodded Amok to approach the icewalker. “Just who do you think you are?”
“Governor General Frostor of the Moons, since you ask,” he replied, regarding the lunar woman’s sudden surliness with surprise. “I meant no offense, madam. History is what it is, but I was talking about Luna, not you.”
“Well, meant or not, offense was taken!” Luna seethed, glowering back at him, while RedEye approached her from behind on the opposite side of where Alluro stood.
“Luna, I really don’t think...”
Luna blatantly ignored RedEye and pointed the tip of her riding crop in Frostor’s direction. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“Actually, no, I don’t,” he responded coolly, and turned to the queen. “Selene, who is she?”
Before Selene could admit that neither she nor her brother had managed to get all of Luna and her friends’ names yet, Luna boldly answered for her, much to the chagrin of her companions. “A certain ‘hard-hearted bitch’ that you wrote a thesis on!” she shrieked indignantly.
TugMug groaned audibly while Alluro, Chilla, and RedEye kept theirs silent, although they felt no less strongly about Luna blowing their cover with her big mouth. So much for keeping a low profile and trying not to attract the attention of those who might hold them accountable for the crimes they had been run off the Moons for all those years ago.
The royal pair and their companions, however, stared at their new guests in astonishment. “What?” Frostor said incredulously. “You’re Luna? The Luna, leader of the capitol city’s crime syndicate?” He started laughing. “Do you take us for fools? The disasters put us back a few years, but we’re not that far behind the times that we can’t do math, thank you.” He turned to one of the servants. “Get me a drink.” He then faced Luna again. “I’ll give you points for originality though. Now tell us who you really are.”
“I don’t think it’s particularly original or funny,” the psi said, glaring at them collectively.
Frowning, Selene looked up at her husband. “It’s all right, Psiarik, we’ve been rather informal with them so far. Perhaps they just have an off sense of humor.”
“Luna’s off all right,” TugMug snorted in derision, and folded his arms.
“So your name is Luna, then?” asked Silvian.
Psiarik’s scowl etched deeper. “Oh, come on, you aren’t playing along with this, are you?”
Selene sighed. “Psiarik, please don’t—”
“Don’t what? Get angry?” he retorted. “Why not? Who do they think they are that they can come into the royal household and make ridiculous claims and feed us lies?”
Rolling his eyes, Silvian set his drink flute down on an end table. “Oh, to quote an ice-mooner, chill out. What’s crawled into your pants today?”
Frostor also frowned, although at Psiarik rather than Luna that time. “Look, if you’re still stewing about having to take that trip to the ice moon—”
“That has nothing to do with it,” the psi replied, waving him off. “I just don’t appreciate liars.” He glared at Luna’s group again.
That time it was Chilla that spoke up. “Who said we were lying?” Although she did not particularly care about the virtue of honesty, Chilla most certainly did care about having some sulky royal that did not even know her accuse her of something she had not done.
“Please now,” Selene interrupted, stepping between the groups, looking from one to the other. “Let’s be serious. Luna and her… associates… have been gone from the moons since before I was born. You’re simply not old enough to be who you say you are.” She eyed Luna carefully. “And if you were, you’d be a once or twice removed great aunt of mine.”
“Not to mention wanted criminals, but hey, who am I to throw the book at someone who lived a life of petty crime back when I was a schoolboy on Lixuvekh?” Frostor said with a shrug before taking a second look at the group. “It’s a shame you aren’t that Luna. Despite being a power-hungry, semi-treasonous fiend, she was a fascinating historical figure. I’d have loved to pick her brains on a few things. I couldn’t have written such a good thesis on a boring individual.”
“Of course I’m not boring, and I’ll have you know that Lunaro called anything that made him look bad ‘treason’. My arrogant cousin didn’t like me proving that I could rule his people better than he could with his infernal taxes and little spies everywhere enforcing laws, half of which only existed to make him feel better about himself,” Luna snapped at the ice general. “As for our age, as the prince there can tell you, we had an annoying run-in with an accursed black magic-practicing mummy that encased us in molten rock for fifteen years when we wouldn’t follow his orders.”
“The suspension you mentioned earlier,” Silvian said, his eyes widening as the possibility that they really were who they claimed to be began to register.
Selene also listened to the farfetched account with an open ear, perhaps because it was so ridiculous that no one who was not telling the truth could concoct such an outlandish tale without being certifiably insane. “Really? Wow…”
Psiarik, however, was not as easily convinced as his wife or brother-in-law. “Oh come on, you aren’t buying this, are you?” He looked to Frostor. “What about you?”
The Governor General evaluated the group gathered in the chamber with the eyes of both the historian he had been educated as the military strategist he had become via trial by fire surviving the disasters. “I will say that if what you say is true about the age discrepancy, other parts are consistent,” he conceded. The conviction and familiar way that Luna had spoken of King Lunaro had a convincing ring to it, he had to admit, but it would take more than a good act make him believe it. “Luna had others of her gang with her when she left the Moons, her brute Amok and some of her hired thugs that also evaded arrest. There was an icewalker named Chilla,” he glanced at the ice woman.
“She did say that was her name,” Silvian corroborated.
“A darkling named RedEye—yes, you would fit the descriptions of him,” he said with a nod to RedEye. “TugMug,” he eyed the graviton and noted the details of his garb, down to the gauntlet on one hand that he had seen in historical images. “And Alluro,” he finished, giving the hypnotist an evaluating look before returning his attention to the self-proclaimed leader of their group. “There was another that evaded arrest with your group, a telekinetic psi. Where is he?”
“She is dead and married to the same damnable mummy that imprisoned us.”
“And in that order,” TugMug grumbled afterward.
Luna narrowed her eyes at Frostor. “My, I’d think such an expert as yourself would have gotten Torlei’s name and gender right since you claim to know so much about us.”
Frostor gave a slow nod and smiled. “Congratulations. You passed my little test. Okay, you’ve sold me for now. You’re the Luna.” He raised a brow. “You’re also brave coming back to the Moons of Plundarr, considering your crimes on record and the outstanding warrants for your arrest.”
“There will be no arrests for crimes we don’t even have real records of and witnesses for,” Selene interjected, holding her hand up in a way that indicated she was not to be contradicted.
“So why did you come back if you are really… them?” Silvian asked. “Are you fleeing the mummy that trapped you on Third Earth?”
“Is that Mumm-Rana, the same one that persecuted Queen Luna, your grandmother?” Selene questioned.
Chilla shook her head. “No. It was Mumm-Ra. He’s Mumm-Rana’s opposite, actually. The ever-living source of evil as opposed to the ever-living source of goodness.”
“We have no use for either of them,” RedEye pointed out.
“Extremists of either sort can be quite tedious,” Silvian agreed.
Psiarik remained the only one unconvinced that they were not being put on by a very good act. “I don’t believe we’re standing here listening to this,” he growled under his breath before folding his arms and glaring at them crossly. “What’s your real agenda, anyway? Extortion? Or are you just looking for a free ride on the royal gravy train?”
“We never asked you for anything, psi,” Chilla hissed dangerously at him, her already thin patience worn by his attitude. “What’s your problem?”
“Now that’s something we’d all like to know,” Silvian remarked snidely, while Psiarik turned his glare on him.
“Don’t make me hypnotize you and send you off the fifth story balcony in the middle of the night!”
“Oh please,” the prince retorted at his surly brother-in-law. “You can’t even thrall your way out of a paper bag. Maybe if you could do it right, you could convince Frostor not to drag you off to the ice moon on mining missions.”
“Enough!” Selene broke in sternly. “Honestly, the two of you act like such toddlers sometimes. Silvian, stop needling him, and Psiarik, will you please calm down? Why are you so unwilling to listen to them?”
“I’m not a sucker and I won’t be taken for one.”
“Prudence has its place, but their facts do match up. It would be a very elaborate ruse for anyone to pull off if it wasn’t genuine, and I can’t see a good motivation for it,” Frostor admitted. “Even a cursory background check would reveal quickly if they were lying, and of all the individuals to imitate looking for a ‘free ride’ as you suggested, wanted criminals from the past wouldn’t be the average con artist’s first choice when looking for a sympathetic ear.”
“No,” Psiarik growled, his emphatic tone almost bordering on desperation.
“Why not?” Frostor pressed.
“Because that would mean...” Psiarik turned away, unable to look at the group of them any longer, especially one individual in particular, the proverbial elephant in the room that he had chosen to ignore. “Just forget it. I don’t want to discuss it.”
Selene frowned and laid a firm hand on his arm. “Well you’re going to after making such a big deal out of it. Why does it matter to you so much anyway? Do you know them?”
“No.”
“Did—did your family know them?” she prodded gently. Psiarik became very touchy when the subject of his family was broached, for various personal reasons, and she wondered if the resemblance of one of them to him was reminding him of someone or something he would rather not think about. “Did Luna or her associates do anything to them back then?” She lowered her voice. “Or was one of them involved in her… organization?”
Psiarik looked from his wife to Luna and her gang with a clenched jaw. “You could say that.”
Silvian let out a bored and impatient sigh. “Oh, spit it out already then. What is it?”
“You want to know?” he snapped. “Fine. Yeah, one of them did have a connection to my family. Specifically to my mother. She wasn’t a part of their operations. My mother was too classy for that. But she did get involved with one, and I’m—”
Selene gasped as she figured it out. “My gods!”
“Holy crap! That’s who the father you never talk about was? One of Luna’s gang?”
“Yes.” The venom in Psiarik’s tone was enough to kill the conversation on the spot, and an awkward silence filled the room as everyone’s eyes shifted between Psiarik and Alluro, the reason behind their resemblance suddenly quite clear.
“What?” Alluro felt as though someone had kicked him in the stomach as the reality of what he had just heard sank in.
“Hmph,” Luna mused. “He does look a lot like you.”
“Poor guy,” TugMug chortled, while RedEye unsuccessfully stifled a corresponding snicker.
“And I’m certainly not the guy’s father,” Chilla added sarcastically.
Ignoring the others, Alluro tried to sort his thoughts. “I can’t believe Lurella was… she never said anything…”
When he heard Alluro say his mother’s name, Psiarik let out a holler of uncontrollable fury. Until that point a part of him had been clinging to the notion that they were liars trying to pull a scam, but faced with one of them confirming not only Frostor’s facts but also a family secret that he had not even told his wife in full, he had no choice but to accept their word. Unable to deal with that, and the whirlwind of repressed emotions that it stirred within him, he lost it. “No!”
Silvian sneered at the outburst. “Denial in action.”
“Don’t start,” Selene snapped at her little brother before turning back to her husband. “Please, calm down!”
“Calm down? My good-for-nothing father, the sleaze who used my mother for her money, broke her heart, and skipped the Moons when the law caught up with him leaving her alone with me—this jerk shows up with one of the most wanted criminal leaders in history and their gang, and you and Silvian invite them into our home and you expect me to make friends and calm down?” As he shouted the last words a random burst of telekinetic energy from his psyche caused a vase behind Silvian to explode.
The lunar man ducked the flying ceramic and stared irritably at his brother-in-law. “You can take your telekinetic temper tantrum outside.”
Alluro, meanwhile, felt defensive at the ugly picture his until-then-unknown son had of him. “I didn’t ‘run off’. I didn’t even know you existed.”
“I’m shocked,” Psiarik snapped at Alluro sarcastically, making direct eye contact with him for the first time. “My mother said you had a rather high opinion of yourself. Maybe if you actually gave a damn about her, you might’ve noticed.”
Luna was unable to resist the chance to make a dig at Alluro that his son provided the opening for. “It seems Lurella wasn’t as much of an airhead as we all thought. She had you pegged rather well.”
“Shut up, Luna.”
Psiarik meanwhile narrowed his eyes at Luna that time. “Don’t you dare pass judgment on my mother. She was my only family, her and later my stepfather and half-sister, and you won’t speak ill of her in my presence. My mother deserves far more respect than my so-called father.”
Selene held up both hands mediating between Psiarik and Alluro and Luna and drew a deep breath. “I think we all need to take a step back and cool off.”
“Yeah,” Psiarik agreed flatly. “I’m outta here.” He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, and the MoonSaber in his hands, temporarily forgotten amidst the drama, left with him.
* * *
A moon’s distance away in the cockpit of the Feliner, Bengali, Lion-O, and WilyKit sped as fast as they could towards the area on the ice moon where they had traced Panthro’s distress signal. WilyKit’s face was lined with worry. “I’m scanning the entire area, but I still don’t see any trace of Panthro.”
“Keep looking,” Bengali said from beside her. “He’s got to be around here somewhere. We’re practically on top of the coordinates where we pinpointed the signal.”
Lion-O, busy monitoring the life-reading scanners, picked up a promising blip on his screen. “Check six degrees northeast, Bengali. There’s a life reading that could be him. It seems to be underground, but it’s the closest we’ve got, and it’s strong.”
“Hope it’s not a Lunar-Plundarrian polar bear,” WilyKit murmured.
“I hear they’re even meaner than the Lunatacs themselves,” Bengali said as he maneuvered the Feliner.
A moment later the levity was forgotten as WilyKit pointed to a snow-covered lump near a thicket of evergreens. “Look! I see something! Panthro’s ship!”
“Yes, but he isn’t in it according to this reading,” Lion-O said with a frown. “The life reading is still three degrees farther on.”
“Maybe he abandoned it for better shelter. It is cold out there, and a cavern could be better protection from the piercing winds than a damaged ship,” suggested Bengali.
WilyKit focused her scanners on the same region as Lion-O’s life reading. “I’ve got a visual of some kind of ice structure. If it’s under the snow crust, it could read as underground. You think that could be it, Lion-O?”
“I think it’s worth checking out,” Lion-O said. “Bengali, take us down.”
“You got it.” The white tiger landed the craft just outside what they could now see was a sturdy igloo.
As soon as they landed, the Thundercats left the Feliner and carefully made their way into the igloo. Once inside they relaxed and exchanged expressions of relief when they saw Panthro sleeping peacefully near a fire, curled up in a blanket. Bengali was the first to reach his side and he shook him awake. “Panthro! Are you all right?”
The groggy panther blinked and focused his eyes on the tiger above him. “Bengali?”
“We got your call for help,” Lion-O said as he approached Bengali’s side along with WilyKit, who offered a hand to help him up. “Looks like your ship made quite a crash landing. You’re lucky to be in one piece. Come on, let’s get you home.”
“Sounds good to me,” Panthro said with a tired smile, before it faded and he looked around in puzzlement. “Wait, where’s Snoelle? You should thank her; she’s the one who pulled my fat out of the fryer, or icer as the case is here. Did you see her? Where did she go?”
“Snoelle? Who are talking about?” WilyKit asked, a confused frown on her face. “There’s no one else here, Panthro.”
“Yes there is,” Panthro said. “Snoelle, the Thundercat who saved me. I told you, she brought me here after she saved me from the wreckage.” He looked all around them, but as his friends said, there was clearly no one in the igloo chamber but them. “Where did she go?”
“Honest, Panthro, there’s nobody else here,” insisted WilyKit. “We’ve been running life reading scans all around this area to find you and there’s nothing else even close to a Thunderian anywhere. There’s hardly a bird or an ice badger in these parts.”
Panthro shook his head with insistence. “Then your scanners are out of whack. I’m telling you, a Thundercat named Snoelle saved me. I woke up in here. I didn’t bring myself here and build a fire in my sleep. I talked to her.”
Bengali put a supportive arm around Panthro’s clearly sore shoulders. “Rowr, you were probably dreaming, or maybe exposure to the cold or the knocks you took in the crash made you hallucinate or remember things off from what they were.”
“I didn’t hallucinate her,” Panthro said firmly, standing his ground. “She was here.”
Realizing that the panther was not going to change his mind and more concerned about his well-being than his apparently disappearing savior, Lion-O gave a sympathetic shrug. “The Sword of Omens hasn’t hinted that there are any Thundercats anywhere but back at the Lair, but even if this Snoelle was here, she’s gone now. Maybe it was a Lunatac doing a good deed that convinced you they were Thunderian to save face. The people of this moon may not all be as vicious as Chilla, but I’m sure helping a Thundercat isn’t anything one would brag about even if it was the right thing to do.”
“She was real, and she was no Lunatac. She was a Thundercat. I saw her insignia.”
Lion-O sighed. “We can talk about it back at the Lair. Let’s head to the Feliner.”
Bengali and WilyKit both nodded in agreement. “The weather out here isn’t fit for cat or beast, even with our suits on, and the Feliner’s heat runs great,” said WilyKit.
The four of them left the igloo for the comforts of the Feliner, although Panthro found himself looking back over his shoulder for any trace of Snoelle and her presence. There was none, although he did not need to see it to know his experience with her had been real. She did exist, she had been there, and she did save him. During the flight back to New Thundera he told Lion-O, Bengali, and WilyKit everything that had happened and everything he remembered about her, but while they humored him, he could tell that they remained dubious. They believed that he believed it, but beyond that they were unconvinced.
The stubborn panther decided that he would convince them, though, and the pleasant memory of her tender touch was enough motivation for him to resolve to look up whatever he could find out about her in the Book of Omens as soon as he was physically able.
* * *
In the dark and shadowy chamber of Mumm-Ra’s pyramid, the ancient mage paced back and forth in front of his cauldron. He had just cast the spell to summon Ma-Mutt back to him, and his ever-faithful demon dog panted in unabashed glee at his feet. Mumm-Ra had been revived for almost a full standard day and he relished the feeling of the power that coursed through his withered body again. “After so long, I truly appreciate this feeling of being alive, such as it is,” he mused to his hound. Ma-Mutt barked in response and darted toward a sarcophagus that lay near his. The summoning spell he had cast earlier had brought it there and summoned the spirit to the body resting inside it, but it had yet to open.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right, Ma-Mutt,” Mumm-Ra said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. “I’ve put off waking her up all day. It’s just been so nice and quiet without her here to annoy me.”
His familiar barked again and Mumm-Ra let out a weary sigh. “I know, I know. The Ancient Spirits of Evil ordered me to do it. But I still don’t have to enjoy it.” He raised his arms and spoke a magic chant that caused a sinister blue light to burst from his fingertips and rattle the latch of his slumbering bride’s resting place. All was still in the black pyramid for a moment afterward, but then her crypt opened.
“Ah, Torlei, you have arisen,” Mumm-Ra greeted her humorlessly.
His undead Lunatac bride, garbed in her navy blue dress and silver-linked belt containing a lightning bolt medallion in the center, emerged with her red eyes ablaze. She smoothed a pale purple hand over her unruly gray hair and sneered at him. “Dear husband,” she said sarcastically. “Did you miss me?”
Mumm-Ra turned away and looked into his cauldron. “Only in your dreams.”
She cackled. “Darling, you’re breaking my heart.”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware you possessed one of those,” Mumm-Ra replied dryly.
Torlei joined him at the cauldron edge, her tone now all business. “Twelve years ago you told me I should rest for a long while, and that it would not matter in the end because time was immaterial to us. So tell me, why did you wake me now, earlier than expected, if not for my stimulating companionship?”
He narrowed his eyes at her arrogant presumption that he would summon her for such a trivial reason as loneliness, especially for the company of such an unpleasant soul as herself. Even the benefit of carnal pleasure that their ever-living bodies could feel if they so chose was not enough of a benefit to tolerate her long, and he would not bother seeking that—one of the only things she might be good for, he thought nastily—until their enemies were disposed of and the Ancients were appeased.
“I was ordered by the Ancient Spirits of Evil to bring you back among the ever-living to work with me. The time has come for us to get our revenge on the Thundercats and be rid of them once and for all. We must work together for this.”
“I see.” Torlei’s interest was piqued. “How?”
The mummy’s lips parted to reveal a devilish smile of jagged teeth, and his red eyes lit up with anticipation. “Look, my dear, and I will show you,” he said, and gestured to the waters of his cauldron. The foul fluid began to roil and bubble as images detailing his wicked plans began to take form.