Revival
(Revised Edition, January 2009)
by Cheezey
Part Two: Illusions
Chapter One
Two days had passed since Panthro and the others had saved Snoelle from her icy prison and taken her back to Cat’s Lair. WilyKat, knowing only a brief summary of what had transpired in his absence from New Thundera while he had been on Third Earth duty, breathed a sigh of relief as the Feliner entered New Thundera’s airspace. “It’s about time I got here.” He had been anxious to get home and meet the mysterious new Thundercat, as well as see his sister and the other Thundercats after his six-week stay guarding Third Earth’s Cat’s Lair.
Generally WilyKat did not mind the stints on Third Earth. They made for a nice change of pace and even
though he was no longer a kitten, he held fond memories of the place and the
adventures he had there in his youth. He
and WilyKit had made many friends amongst the Third Earthers and he enjoyed the
opportunity to visit with them. Besides,
he had not been without Thundercat company.
The first three weeks he had been there, Pumyra and her daughter Pumari
had been in the middle of a stay at the
Still, WilyKat was glad to be back given all the excitement he had missed. The ride back had been unusually long, full of meteor showers and other interstellar travel annoyances, and he was looking forward to the comforts of home. Most of all he looked forward to catching up with WilyKit. Even though they were both grown, the twins remained close and felt a sense of loss when separated for long periods.
As the ground beneath him started to come into view, an alarm beeped on the Feliner’s console. “What’s going on?” he wondered aloud. The readings indicated that an energy field was surrounding the craft, and he wondered why the systems had not warned him that he was flying into it. “All that cosmic debris must’ve knocked the sensors out of whack,” he grumbled. “Great. Guess I have a job for Panthro when I land.” He focused on steering out of the energy field when a loud and familiar cry out of nowhere startled him. The alarmed WilyKat looked up, and he could have sworn that he saw his sister’s image in the glass of the Feliner’s hatch, looking painfully burned and scarred. “Help!” he heard her shriek, just before the image vanished.
“WilyKit?” he repeated in disbelief. His gut instinct urged him to help, but how could what he had seen be anything but imagination? He blinked and looked again at the glass, and sure enough, there was nothing there but the sky and the sparks of the energy field that caused his controls to act up. The Thundercat shook his head. “I’ve been flying way too long.”
The sound of WilyKit’s panicked voice echoed shrilly through the Feliner’s cockpit again. “I’m down here! Help me!”
That time WilyKat could not deny that what he heard was too
real and vivid to be merely imagination.
He cast a worried glance at the ground below, and saw no sign of other
Thundercat crafts, but still felt compelled to investigate further. “Okay,” he said aloud, mostly to reassure
himself. “I’ll check it out.” As he landed, the frown on his face deepened. Though he and WilyKit were close, their
connection had never been so overtly psychic before, and he had an unsettling
thought that she must be in real grave danger if her spirit had cried out like
that. She looked awfully burned when
you saw her…
The Feliner landed and he disembarked. The bleak surroundings were familiar to him, and a moment later he realized why as he searched the landscape for any sign of WilyKit. The ruins of Mumm-Ra’s pyramid loomed to the west. No wonder this place gives me the creeps, WilyKat thought, pushing aside unpleasant memories of the undead demon priest. His gaze lingered on the onyx ruins. Mumm-Ra was defeated years ago, so he couldn’t have harmed her… right?
He turned away from the pyramid and began to walk, looking for any trace of his sister’s presence. He was mid-step when he heard a shriek just like the one he had heard while flying the Feliner, coming from the direction of the pyramid.
Why would she go in there?
“Maybe I ought to call the Lair first and find out what they last heard, and at least let them know where I am.” He turned back toward the Feliner, but had only gone three paces when he heard the scream again, blood-curdlingly loud and unmistakably WilyKit.
The pain he heard in her cry immediately pushed all pragmatism aside. “By the Eye, there’s no time for that!” With only concern and fear for his sister in mind, he immediately broke into a run toward the black pyramid. “Hang on, Kit, I’m coming!”
The male Thundercat twin was panting from exertion from his sprint when he reached the entrance to Mumm-Ra’s tomb ruins. He was able to navigate the “abandoned” structure with no trouble, and once he was far enough in that there was no natural light, he cracked a luminous pellet against the wall to create a small globe of light that would work as a makeshift flashlight for the time being. “WilyKit!” he called ahead into the darkness. “I heard you screaming. Are you all right? Answer me!”
Silence was his only response.
“WilyKit!” he called again, that time more loudly. “Are you here? Are you hurt? Where are you?” The Thundercat continued to shout out to her, but heard nothing but the ominous whisper of the wind in the ancient chambers. This is very strange, the worried WilyKat thought. If she’s in so much trouble that she isn’t able to hear my calls, then how come I could hear her screams all the way outside? And why can’t hear anything now?
He rounded a corner and found himself in the room he wanted to be in least: the heart of Mumm-Ra’s pyramid, the chamber that held his sarcophagus and cauldron. Immediately he noticed that it did not seem as abandoned as it should have been. There was an intangible sense of life, of energy, in the room, and no coat of dust, grime, or debris on the statues or floor that one would expect to find in a place that had been unoccupied for twelve years. A faint glow and the eerie sound of bubbling fluid confirmed his uneasy suspicions, and his stomach twisted into a knot at the realization.
“Oh no,” he whispered. “It can’t be.”
“Oh yes it can.”
The cold and sinister female voice that answered was not that of his sister, but the figure that bore her likeness in the awful charred and tortured vision he had seen in the Feliner that emerged from the shadows behind him was.
“K—Kit?” the confused twin stammered as the thing that appeared to be WilyKit lifted her arms and knocked him to the floor with a painful blast of energy.
She laughed as she stood over him, a cruel and wicked laugh unlike any he had ever heard from his sister before. “Guess again, WilyKat,” she sneered back at him. “I’ll give a hint. I’m not your sister, but I had these same scars and burns on my body for a long time thanks to a shot you fired from one of your Thundercat vehicles almost fourteen years ago now.”
His mind reeled as he tried to reconcile the wretched mockery of his sister speaking to him in such a way to what it was that she said. Fourteen years, who or what did I shoot fourteen years ago that would’ve been burned like that? Someone connected to Mumm-Ra?
Wincing as he felt his skin burn from the energy field he realized he was trapped in, he suddenly remembered a battle back on Third Earth that he and a few of the other Thundercats in the Thunderstrike had joined answering a cat signal. Lion-O, Cheetara, Panthro, Pumyra, and Bengali had been trapped by Mumm-Ra and some woman—a dark bride or partner, they had later told him after it was said and done—and oddly the undead duo had also captured the Lunatacs at the time. His friends had told him that the partner had once been one of them and held a grudge, and Mumm-Ra and she had been about to encase them all in lava when he and Lynx-O had arrived. From his pod in the Thunderstrike, WilyKat had fired a shot at Mumm-Ra and the demoness that knocked her into the heart of the volcano. But how could she have survived that? I saw her hit the lava…
Reading his thoughts from the recognition and horror on his features, she leaned down and intensified the burn of her telekinetic force field to match the flare of the hatred she felt. “Thought I was dead and gone, did you? Well, you were wrong,” she hissed as she shed the illusion of his sister and morphed back into her unnatural Lunatac form. “I’m here to give you and your friends a little payback, alive and healed and brought back by my dear partner Mumm-Ra. We’re going to destroy you all, for good this time.”
WilyKat tried to move, but found the force weighing down on him and the stabbing shocks of energy surrounding him too overwhelming. It seemed like a net that drew tighter and sizzled against his skin more with each movement. “But Mumm-Ra’s dead. Lion-O defeated him,” he argued, his dread multiplying even as he said the words. He supposed a part of him had hoped for a moment that it was just her and not Mumm-Ra as well that had come back.
“Dead?” Torlei repeated. “Undead, yes. Defeated, perhaps. But ‘dead’ in as you mean it? Hardly. Since I don’t have a dictionary to give you, allow me to define the term ‘ever-living’ for you, Thundercat. It means ‘immortal’. In simple terms that a kitty like you can understand, it means that he, and I for that matter, can’t be killed. There’s nothing you can do to be rid of us, no matter how many times you sic ancient book guardians on us or shoot us into volcanoes.” She held up a hand, sparking with a globe of malevolent telekinetic energy. “It’s a shame Mumm-Ra’s not here right now to see the pathetic look on your face. Perhaps I’ll have to preserve it so he can savor it before I do anything too permanent to you.”
She then thrust the energy globe at the trapped Thundercat, quadrupling the force upon him and making him scream in agony as shocks coursed through his body. He felt himself rise into the air and heavy shackles close around his wrists as Torlei called to her masters, “Ancient Spirits of Evil, hold this Thundercat helpless and weak!” A dizzying feeling of fatigue washed over him as the chains hoisted him limply into the air, and he realized grimly that his binds were at least in part Thundrainium. That and a prayer for help were his last conscious thoughts before he closed his eyes.
* * *
Back within the majestic walls of Cat’s Lair, Panthro made his way toward the guest suite that now served as Snoelle’s quarters. Lion-O had given them to her as soon as Pumyra gave her the okay to be released from the medical bay recovery room. Despite her long imprisonment in the magical ice, it appeared that there were no lasting ill effects on her health from it. The other Thundercats had all been told her story, and Lion-O had even prepared a statement to be released to the Thunderian people celebrating the return of the snow leopard Thundercat to their fold.
Naturally, she received a kind and warm reception from the people of New Thundera as well as the Thundercats themselves, and Snoelle was equally honored to be so readily accepted into their ranks. She thanked each of them for their kindness and hospitality, and swore to serve Lord Lion-O as she had his grandfather before her imprisonment. Still, being freed and back amongst the Thundercats was not without sadness for Snoelle. Learning about the destruction of the old Thundera, the sad fate of her clan, and the fact that she was very likely the last living snow leopard in existence was hard news to bear. New Thundera was different in many ways from the world she once knew, both with generational and cultural differences, and it would take time for her to adjust to it.
Panthro had been to see her a number of times, but had kept his visits brief and respected her need for space. He hoped that he would soon have a chance to speak with her alone more intimately, but given the buzz that her arrival had stirred, he knew that might be a while off yet. That was confirmed when he reached her chamber and found that Lion-O and Snarf were there with her, having what sounded like an interesting conversation.
Snarf bounced up on his tail and waved to the panther. “Rowr, hey Panthro, come on in. Snoelle was telling us about Lord Katan and some of the stuff they did when they were in power, snarf, snarf.”
“Hi,” he waved back. “Sure, count me in.” He pulled an empty chair closer to where they were gathered.
“Nice to see you, Panthro,” Snoelle greeted him with a smile.
While Panthro smiled back at her in a way that both Lion-O and Snarf noticed to be quite friendly and charmed, Lion-O nodded in Panthro’s direction. “We were just asking Snoelle about the mission that led to her capture on the ice moon.”
The snow leopard nodded. “Yes. I’d been asked to get the MoonSaber from King Mallar. Lord Katan feared that he, like the Mutants, might view the ancient Incantation of Destruction as a means to conquer all of Thundera, Plundarr, and its Moons. Lunatacs are ruthless like their planetside brethren and although the thought of using such a terrible prophecy is something that we as Thundercats would never consider, it was not unthinkable that either of those warlike peoples would not sacrifice some of their own in an effort to rule over the domains of all three mighty swords.” She folded her hands and frowned as she thought about the past. “The notion of stealing the swords belonging to the Mutant and Lunatac people did not sit well with Lord Katan, as thievery is something we as Thundercats hold in contempt, but it was deemed the lesser evil in the face of what horrors could be unleashed if the Incantation of Destruction was used.”
Snoelle paused and met the gazes of Panthro, Lion-O, and Snarf for a moment before continuing. “I was able to infiltrate King Mallar’s palace, an adventure in and of itself, and managed to find and take the MoonSaber and get back out. Unfortunately, my luck didn’t hold out and their security caught me as I was on my way off the grounds. I wouldn’t be surprised if the MoonSaber itself warned the lunar king that I’d taken it. I know the Eye of Thundera has such powers, after all.”
“The Eye of Thundera has a strong connection to me,” Lion-O confirmed.
“Anyhow,” Snoelle continued, “once they were aware of what happened, their sorceress Chillandra, Mistress of the Cold, chased me. As you might guess from her name, she was an ice Lunatac, highly skilled amongst her people and a shaman skilled in elemental magic. She shot my ship down over the ice moon, likely hoping that I’d perish in the crash or in the harsh environment of her home moon if I managed to survive. Being a snow leopard I fared better than other Thundercats would on the ice moon, but I was ill prepared for a fight like that, especially after a crash landing, and she overpowered me. She imprisoned me in the magical ice, like I told you back when you freed me, and left me there to ponder my failure and fate.”
Lion-O listened to her account with interest. “Do you know what Chillandra did with the MoonSaber after that? We don’t know much about the Lunatacs’ sword. In fact,” he admitted with a rueful smile, “I didn’t know at all about it until recently.”
“I’d heard of it, but only a little,” Snarf added, while Panthro gave a nod also.
“We know more about the Mutants’ Sword of Plundarr, but that’s because it’s turned up in our enemies’ hands far more recently.”
Snoelle frowned and cast her eyes downward. “Chillandra didn’t say what she was going to do with the MoonSaber other than to boast that me and ‘my kind’ would never get our ‘dirty paws’ on it. She took it with her when she left me.” She fell silent, and then faced her new friends with a sad look. “And my failing to get the MoonSaber in turn led to the demise of my clan.”
“What? No! They died when Thundera was lost. That wasn’t your fault,” Panthro exclaimed.
“Snarf, snarf, why would you think that?” Snarf eyed her quizzically. “It’s like we told you, Thundera’s explosion was caused by the Sword of Plundarr, not the MoonSaber.”
Panthro nodded in assent with the snarf. “The Mutants lost the Sword of Plundarr when Lord Jaga—the acting Thundercat Lord who took the mantle when Lord Claudus was blinded—defeated Ratilla. Jaga tried to destroy the Sword of Plundarr and keep it out of the Mutants’ hands to protect Thundera, but it didn’t work.”
“No,” Lion-O said in a regretful tone. “Unfortunately it destroyed us by tearing Thundera apart.”
Snoelle closed her eyes in sadness. “Such a tragedy. I can only imagine the burden Lord Jaga must carry on his conscience in the astral.” She looked up again and that time faced Lion-O. “Still, when I didn’t come back from the ice moon, my people blamed the lion leadership of the Thundercats for my loss. If only I’d been successful…”
“Don’t think that way, Snoelle. You’ll drive yourself crazy. We’ve all got regrets.” Panthro put a hand on her shoulder.
She looked at Lion-O. “I failed my Lord and my mission. You would be within your rights to strip me of my title, given that my failure led my people to cling to that grudge all the way to their deaths.”
Snarf bounced up on his tail. “Now you’re just being ridiculous!” he scolded. “You did your best and no one can ask for more than that.”
“You’re very kind to say so, loyal Snarf.”
“And he’s right,” Lion-O asserted. “I understand that you feel responsibility to your clan, Snoelle, but their decision to stay was their choice. Not yours, not my grandfather’s, not anyone’s but theirs.” He met her eyes earnestly. “I’ll never strip a Thundercat of the title that hasn’t betrayed the Code of Thundera as long as I live. You were loyal to my grandfather to the end and you’ve been nothing but honorable and honest with us. I see a Thundercat that follows the Code, not one that’s broken it.”
Unshed tears of emotion glistened in the snow leopard’s eyes. “Thank you, Lord Lion-O.”
“You’re welcome.” His voice softened and he relaxed, leaning back in his chair.
Snarf padded to the edge of Snoelle’s bed. “Now, let’s put that behind us and figure out what to do from here. Now that we know this MoonSaber exists, and what it could do if matched up with the Sword of Omens and the Sword of Plundarr, maybe we should find out where it is and, rowr, who has it?”
“I’d presume that the Lunatacs have it,” Panthro said, only then removing his hand from Snoelle’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze. “It was last seen with this Chillandra as far as we know, and none of the Lunatacs we’ve run into have used it against us, so maybe it’s back with the Lunatac royalty or Chillandra’s kin.”
Lion-O frowned thoughtfully. “If the Lunatac rulers have it, they aren’t using it in aggressive moves toward other worlds. If they’d used it against the Mutants of Plundarr, odds are they would’ve struck at us as well, and no Lunatac raiders have turned up on New Thundera with a weapon like that.”
“What about the prophecy and the Incantation of Destruction?” Snoelle asked Lion-O. “Do you think we should take precautions against such a possibility?”
“Perhaps. It couldn’t hurt to find out who has the MoonSaber and where it is. All three swords are needed for that prophecy according to the Book of Omens. We have the Sword of Omens and know it’s well protected in our custody. The Sword of Plundarr hasn’t been seen in years, though.”
Snarf let out a brrr of worry. “And we know who last had that, and it wasn’t a Mutant.”
“Who did?” asked Snoelle.
“An undead mage named Mumm-Ra that came from Third Earth, followed us here, and made a general pain in the backside out of himself to us for years,” Panthro told her. “But we finally defeated him once and for all well over ten years ago now.”
Lion-O strode over the window and studied the New Thundera skyline in the distance. “But Mumm-Ra did have the Sword of Plundarr. If he exists in any form anywhere, it’s possible he still has it, or that his ancient evil spirit masters do. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that it could turn up in the hands of another of their disciples or that they might see fit to return it to the Mutants to instigate more fighting between our worlds. Evil thrives on conflict like that.”
Panthro rose to his feet. “And I can’t disagree that Mumm-Ra’s turned up before alive and well when we thought he was gone. Still, it’s never been this long.”
“I’ll talk to the others and see what they think,” Lion-O decided, and turned from the window. “Thank you for your input, Snoelle.”
“Of course, my Lord.”
“Please, call me Lion-O,” the lion insisted. “We’re pretty informal among each other here.”
Snoelle smiled. “I’m sorry; it’s habit… Lion-O.”
He echoed the smile and gave a wave to her and Panthro in parting, and left. Snarf said a quick goodbye as well and followed Lion-O out, leaving Panthro and Snoelle alone together for the time being. A companionable silence settled over them for a few moments until Snoelle ended it with a curious statement.
“There’s another question I’ve got on my mind that I’m not quite sure how to ask.”
“Ask away,” Panthro said amiably.
“You, well…” Her eyes darted downward as her voice faltered a bit searching for the right words, until she simply came out with it. “When I met you in astral form, especially in your dreams, we were… intimate.” A knowing look lit up Panthro’s eyes and Snoelle flushed beneath her fur. “I hope you’re not… I mean, you aren’t disappointed meeting me in the flesh, are you?”
Taken aback by her words, Panthro exclaimed, “No way! Meeting you a disappointment? How on Thundera could I be disappointed?” He leaned closer to her and tipped her chin upward to lock gazes with him. “You took my breath away. You’re all I’ve been able to think about since you saved me and since we saved you. And you’re beautiful—even more in reality than in any dream.”
Snoelle curled white fingertips over the panther’s strong forearm, deeply touched and flattered by his words. “You feel that way even though… even though you know that I was only on the ice moon to save you as I did because I failed my last Thundercat mission?”
“Hey, I thought we went over this already,” Panthro chided gently. “If the Lord of the Thundercats himself won’t hear any nonsense about you not being good enough because you had a tough mission and got ambushed by an ice witch who got the better of you, do you think I’m gonna put up with it?” He shook his head. “Not gonna happen. You may not have noticed, but I’m a stubborn cat and you’ll have an even harder time making me think you’re anything but a heroine that went on a tough mission that nobody but a damned good Thundercat would’ve been up to even trying. Nobody’s perfect, Snoelle.” He chortled. “At least you can say you wound up in the middle of nowhere on the ice moon because a Lunatac shot you down. I forgot to think about whether I cold-proofed my ship when I took it there on a test run and crashed. Now that’s embarrassing.”
A slight smile tugged at the snow leopard’s lips in spite of herself. “Just a minor error in judgment.”
“One that had an astral ghost pulling my chops out of the freezer,” he retorted with a wry smile, noting that her touch now felt both real and warm as her fingertips brushed against his skin. “So maybe we should both cut ourselves some slack, huh?”
“Perhaps so.” They lapsed into silence briefly as they looked deeply into one another’s eyes until Snoelle spoke again. “I had to wait fifty years to find someone to rescue me, but I’m glad it was a fine cat like you. How did I get so lucky?”
“You saved my dangblasted butt,” Panthro replied, and they shared a moment of warm laughter.
“So,” Snoelle said with a sparkle in her eye, “how vividly do you remember that dream?”
Panthro felt a renewed rush of desire and drew her closer to him. “Almost every detail.”
Snoelle closed her eyes as their lips brushed, almost in a kiss but not quite. “You’re a very passionate man.”
“You’re an exciting woman,” Panthro replied, and completed the near kiss into a full-fledged one.
The pair lingered in the embrace for several moments, enjoying the silence and the comfort of being in one another’s arms. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a lover’s touch,” Snoelle murmured. “Even before Chillandra captured me, as a Thundercat I was too preoccupied, too busy, to ever fall…”
“It’s been a long time for me too. Too long.” Panthro studied her face, committing it to memory in every detail.
“Maybe that’s why fate brought us together,” mused Snoelle. “We’re kindred spirits, aren’t we, cut from the same cloth deep down despite being from different times and different clans? Do you sense that too?” She smiled. “It’s not any cat that I’d seduce in a dream.”
The panther let out a warm chuckle. “I’m not complaining,” he said, before lapsing into a more serious tone. “But yes, I do know what you mean. I don’t have a sixth sense, but I know what I can see and feel and everything about this feels right.” The way his heart pounded as he spoke echoed his feeling.
“Yes. In more ways than one, I feel like I’ve finally come home.” She sealed the words by initiating another kiss, and the couple remained in the embrace for some time.
* * *
Far off on a more bleak part of New Thundera, Mumm-Ra materialized on the dais beside his cauldron in the black pyramid. He was pleased with what he had learned spying on the Lunatacs of the Third Moon’s MoonTower. Without paying particular attention to anything else in his abode or concerning himself with the presence of his partner, he summoned a vision of the Thundercats of Cat’s Lair in the cauldron’s waters to see if there was any information from there to be gleaned.
The conversation that Lion-O, Panthro, Snarf, and Snoelle had in the snow leopard’s quarters replayed for him. The appearance of a new Thundercat intrigued and annoyed him at the same time. The presence of more felines, especially Thundercats, was not a particularly pleasant notion, but the circumstances were ironic considering that the MoonSaber the newly recovered snow leopard had tried to take so many years ago had also resurfaced back on the Moons. “So the lost snow leopard Thundercat still lives, and she’s returned to Cat’s Lair. Perhaps this can be used to my advantage.”
“Mumm-Ra, darling, surely you have better things to do than spy on those miserable felines all day?” Torlei emerged from the shadows on the opposite end of the chamber across the pool, a devious smirk on her harsh features.
Mumm-Ra lifted his gaze from the mystical waters and faced his bride. “The Thundercats have saved one of their number from the past, a snow leopard that was trapped in magical ice on Plundarr’s ice moon by a Lunatac.”
“A kitty reunion. How touching,” Torlei said sarcastically.
“That’s not the important part,” Mumm-Ra replied, unimpressed by her cavalier attitude. “Her story is one of interest to us, and combined with what I learned observing the Lunatacs on the Third Moon, provides the perfect means for us to rise and rule all of New Thundera, Plundarr, and its Moons now that the Ancient Spirits of Evil have restored us to power. I can finally see the Thundercats destroyed, and you will get your revenge on Luna, your brother, and rest of that wretched crew of Lunatacs from Third Earth.”
Torlei hissed in contempt at the memory. “Oh yes, I ache for the chance to even the score with them after what they did to me.”
Smirking, Mumm-Ra walked toward his ever-living partner. “Ah yes, but at least you’ve recovered from that, and they still don’t know that you survived that fall into the volcano and were merely laying in wait for the right moment all these years.” His eyes glowed a malevolent red. “The element of surprise will be a nice bonus.”
“A surprise to some of them, anyway,” she said with a dark laugh.
Immediately Mumm-Ra grew suspicious, and more than a little irritated at the hint that she had acted without him. “What?”
Her eyes lit up with scarlet excitement. “I captured us a little pet, darling. The Thundercat they call ‘WilyKat’. He was a boy when I last saw the Thundercats, but oh, time flies, and he’s grown now.” The smug smile of satisfaction on her lips made it quite clear that she was pleased with her handiwork. “They don’t even know he’s missing yet. I waited for you to return to decide what exactly we should do with him.”
Mumm-Ra’s own eyes blazed at her announcement, but more with indignation at being denied the chance to strike at his enemies first and in apprehension that her hastiness might have compromised his plans. “Is he contained?”
“Of course,” she assured him, ignoring the bluster in his tone. “He’s unconscious and bound in Thundrainium. He’s not going anywhere.” She gestured to a dark corner of the chamber where a torch blazed to life with unnatural fire, illuminating the area where WilyKat hung in the shackles.
After observing the captive Thundercat for a moment and deeming him and Torlei’s actions in capturing him not a threat to his plans, he relaxed. “Good. We’ll keep him there for now. He may serve a purpose later.” He took her hand and compelled her attention through their dark bond. “Now, I will tell you my plan to destroy our enemies and take domain over their worlds.”
“How?”
“As one who was once a Lunatac in life, you may find it interesting to know that the sword of your people, the MoonSaber, has been discovered.”
“The MoonSaber?” the surprised Torlei repeated. “It’s been missing for decades. King Mallar went to the grave with the secret of its whereabouts after he had his icewalker sorceress hide it… if he even really knew where she left it.”
“It was found on the ice moon by miners. Apparently this Chillandra buried it all those years ago. Anyhow, it’s been found and returned to the custody of the Lunatac royalty on the Third Moon of Plundarr.”
Torlei’s lips curled into a pensive frown. “King Lunaro must be quite old by now. He wasn’t young when we were run off the moons.”
“King Lunaro is dead. His son and daughter rule the Moons now. Inexperienced and young, both of them. The queen is weak and naïve and the prince impulsive and overconfident.” The ancient mage grinned malevolently. “They will be easy to manipulate into fulfilling the prophecy of their own doom, as will Lion-O and the Thundercats and those miserable Mutants.”
“The ancient prophecy that King Mallar feared when he ordered Chillandra to hide the MoonSaber lest anyone try to steal it again, you mean?” guessed Torlei.
Mumm-Ra nodded. “When all three of the ancient swords—The Sword of Omens, the Sword of Plundarr, and the MoonSaber—are used on each other and the Incantation of Destruction recited, a terrible power greater than the three swords together will be unleashed, and the victor strong enough to withstand its power will rule all that remains. All we must do is convince the Lunatac Silvian to attack Lion-O and the rest of the Thundercats, and instigate the Mutant Ratar-O to attack both groups with the Sword of Plundarr while we recite the Incantation of Destruction as they fight. The three of them and their miserable people will suffer the destruction while you and I harness the power of the combined swords to rule what remains in ultimate and undisputed power.”
“I thought you had the Sword of Plundarr, not that fat rat Ratar-O.”
“Yes,” Mumm-Ra said, “but that is easily remedied. The Mutant Warrior King will be all too eager to reclaim the sword his ancestor lost to Jaga and believe himself in my debt for returning it to him. He will do whatever we ask without an inkling that it takes him to his own demise.”
Torlei let out a wicked cackle. “And you get to see your longtime enemy Lion-O do himself in, thinking he’s protecting his people.”
“While you enjoy the pleasure of witnessing a relation of Luna’s play a key role in the Lunatacs’ destruction.” His eyes glowed red with delight. “You will be pleased to know that she, and your other worthless former companions, are in the Lunar royalty’s company right now. The former king might have detested your once leader and her associates, but the queen and prince embrace her as a lost relation.”
“Sickening,” Torlei hissed in contempt. “They must be fools indeed to think Luna worthy company.”
Mumm-Ra enjoyed watching his bride’s anger bubble to the surface at the mention of those she hated so. “Not only her, but your dear brother as well. Did you know he had a bastard son by some Lunatac before he left the Moons?”
The revelation caught the undead Lunatac off guard. “What?”
“A psi woman bore his child, presumably not long after your old crew fled the Third Moon. Her son—your nephew—not only lives among the royalty, but married their queen.”
Torlei’s lips curled back in a bemused sneer. “Is that so? My, King Lunaro and his prissy little wife must be railing in the astral about that. A lunar royal heir married to a non-lunar, and a bastard with a criminal for a father at that? Ironic, considering my brother took up with that girl simply because her family was Fourth Moon nobility. His child got the privilege he sought for himself but was denied.”
“No longer,” Mumm-Ra said carefully, knowing that what he would say next would needle his bride into a fit. “He has been welcomed among them along with Luna and the others. In the end, only you were denied the pardon for the crimes of the Lunatacs of Plundarr on the Moons.”
Mumm-Ra’s machinations worked like a charm, and Torlei’s temper flared like lightning in a stormy sky. “On the contrary. In the end, only I will have it all, because they’ll all be dead. My traitorous brother and his spawn, his wench of a boss, and the whole rotting lot of them! Dead while I—and you, of course,” she added as an afterthought, “gloat over their accursed bodies.”
“Of course.” He did not bother to hide the sarcasm in his tone as he took Torlei’s hands and looked into the churning waters of the cauldron with her. It bubbled with images of the Thundercats, the MoonTower, and a complacent Ratar-O on Plundarr. The visions distorted and swirled faster and faster into a whirlpool, until they were one magnificent light that simulated a brilliant explosion. When the light faded, only Mumm-Ra and Torlei’s reflections remained, a unified pair of unfathomable malignance. “In the end, only we will remain to rule in evil.”
* * *
Seated at a table in the MoonTower’s library with a pile of books between them, Frostor and Luna were in the midst of a discussion. The two were talking about history, something each of them held an interest in. In the short time she had been at the MoonTower Luna seemed more relaxed than she had been in years. Although their initial meeting had not gone smoothly, since then she had come to like the frosty Governor General. She found his dry wit entertaining and was flattered by the odd sort of respect he seemed to have for her and her shady past. While she did not get the impression he approved of her criminal lifestyle, he did not outwardly condemn her for it and instead only asked questions pertaining to it.
The two Lunatacs had been discussing the potential of the newly recovered MoonSaber when Psiarik walked in and joined them. The morning sunlight filtered in brightly through the room’s windows, but the psi’s mood was darker than it had been in months. The previous night had been the third night in a row he had endured the miserable nightmare, and each time it seemed even more graphic and vivid than the last. It was costing him precious sleep and rest, but Psiarik did not think he could stand the vision of Selene dying and the world ending while he could do nothing but helplessly watch even one more time.
Frostor looked up when he entered. “You look terrible,” the icewalker remarked.
“I feel like it,” Psiarik responded, not bothering to take offense to the truth. “It’s getting so I can’t sleep at all anymore without having a damned nightmare.”
“What kind of nightmares?” the ever-nosy Luna asked, and set down the book she had been browsing. An inscription on the cover of the leather-bound tome immediately caught Psiarik’s attention, and what color remained on his already pale-from-insomnia face drained from it.
“What’s going on with you?” Frostor asked, his rough voice holding a note of concern.
Psiarik pointed to the book in front of Luna. “That inscription,” he said, staring at it as if it would leap out and burn him. “‘When the past becomes the present and the ancient struggle is set in motion, only what seems impossible can stop the inevitable.’”
“Oh, that?” Luna noted with a cynical chortle. “The ancient prophets got a kick out of being cryptic.”
“Well, what fun would it have been for them to say anything outright?” Frostor quipped before returning his attention to Psiarik, who failed to see anything humorous in it.
“It’s a prophecy?” the psi asked, swallowing a feeling of dread. “I hear that in my dreams. Some voice shouts it out right before I wake up. I don’t remember hearing it anywhere else though.”
Any remaining levity left Frostor’s tone. “That inscription is a part of the prophecy of the end of our world, part of the legend of the swords. Are you saying you’ve been dreaming about that?”
Psiarik sighed and slumped into one of the chairs. “What can I say? I’m a depressing kind of guy.”
“I’m being serious,” Frostor said, switching into the seat beside him. “You’ve been dreaming psychic images at the same time we find the MoonSaber? Tell us everything you remember about the dream right now. It’s important. You should’ve said something sooner.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” Psiarik protested. He looked from Frostor to Luna, who eyed him with the same intensity that the icewalker did, as he described the nightmares as requested. “Anyway, part of it’s a nightmare I’ve had long before that sword turned up. I’ve had it ever since the Thundera explosion disasters hit and my family was killed in the eruption quakes. The first part is like a miserable replay of that, like it wasn’t bad enough the first time,” he groused, “and then it gets even worse. That’s the newer part, the part that’s keeping me up.”
Psiarik closed his eyes and rubbed the side of his forehead while resting his other arm on the table. “After my house falls into the chasm, the scenery changes and I’m on Thundera—at least I think it’s Thundera, I’ve never been there but for some reason I think it is. In the dream Silvian is already dead and Selene has the MoonSaber. She’s fighting some red-haired lion Thundercat and a rat Mutant who have what I guess are their worlds’ swords. There’s this chanting in the background, and others are there too, but I think it comes from these two dark figures. I can’t really see much about them, but they’re creepy, in that way that makes your skin crawl just looking at them. Then there’s always this big crash of lighting where the swords twist and pull together into a huge new sword, bigger than any of us. Selene, the Thundercat, and the Mutant all fall dead. As soon as I try to say or do anything, an earthquake stops me and I can’t move, just like during the Thundera explosion disasters with my family.” He looked up and met Frostor’s eyes. “Then my father… you know, Alluro, is standing there and he says something like ‘destiny’ that doesn’t really make any sense, and then I hear someone shout out that line about the impossible stopping the inevitable just before I wake up.”
“Alluro is predicting the end of the world now?” Luna said dubiously. “He’s never had seer powers before. Half the time he can’t even see past his own ego.”
“Not Alluro, it’s someone else who says that. I don’t know who. I don’t recognize the voice,” Psiarik clarified.
Frostor nodded as he mulled over the account of the psi man’s dream. “There are some compelling signs in that, and not good ones. The prophecy of the swords involves each of the ancient swords and their rightful holders. The Sword of Omens has been held by lion Thundercats for generations for the most part, and as Vultureman said, if Mumm-Ra doesn’t have the Sword of Plundarr, it would belong to the Mutant Warrior King, which would be Ratar-O of Plundarr.” He frowned. “And though we gave guardianship of the MoonSaber to Silvian, if he was dead, Selene would—”
“Yeah, but he’s alive, and so is she, and I’d like to think it’ll stay that way,” Psiarik snapped at the ice general, and then sighed again. “Sorry. Like I said, that nightmare has me on edge and I don’t like thinking about it, much less talking about it. Selene said she thought it was just my subconscious playing out unresolved issues about my father turning up out of nowhere.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” Frostor said.
Giving Psiarik a pointed look, Luna said, “Alluro told me that you two still haven’t spoken.”
“That’s because I have nothing to say to him,” Psiarik answered the lunar woman coldly. “All I have in common with him is DNA, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Why?” asked Luna. “I know he’s not a model father by any stretch—the gods know, I’ve put up with him for years and he annoys me at least twice a day—but I do think he’d genuinely like to know you. He’ll probably accuse me of butting in by saying this, but it’s the truth. He’s got too much pride to approach you flat out given how you’ve made your feelings known.”
Frostor chortled and gave the psi a knowing look. “Hmm, too much pride, I wonder if that’s in the DNA?”
Psiarik glowered at Frostor. “Shut up.”
“If there were any shrinks around in this town, you’d make a perfect head case for them,” Prince Silvian remarked sarcastically as he, his sister, Chilla, and Vultureman joined them in the library.
“No one asked you, and it’s rude to eavesdrop,” the psi retorted to his brother-in-law.
“Get over yourself. It’s not eavesdropping when you have a conversation in a common area with the door open.” Silvian and the others joined them at the table.
Frostor gestured for them to take a seat. “Ah, but if he did that, Silvian, he might have to admit he’s wrong, and we know how likely that is.”
“And thank you for encouraging him,” Psiarik grumbled to the ice general while Selene stood behind him and put her hands on his shoulders.
“Why don’t we just drop this?” she requested.
Frostor nodded. “If you want.”
“Which clearly, you and Silvian don’t,” the still annoyed Psiarik said. “So I think I’m going to take a walk and leave you to your theorizing.” He stood and gave Selene’s hand a squeeze as she stepped back to let him up to show that she was not the one he was irked at, and fixed a glare at the prince to drive his point home. “Let me know when Silvian decides to advance past the mental age of a ten year old,” he said in parting, and walked out.
The unimpressed Silvian rolled his eyes. “And he’s acting like an adult, right?”
“Can’t you see that he’s exhausted?” Selene chastised her brother. “Give him a break.”
“I don’t think catching up on sleep is going to fix whatever’s crawled up his pants, Sis,” Silvian responded, frowning. “Maybe if he dealt with his issues instead of moping and brooding on them, he’d get some peace and we’d get some peace rather than having to baby-sit him.”
Selene eyed her brother with disapproval. “And maybe if you didn’t start off with your rude comments, he wouldn’t fire them back at you so quickly.”
“Rudeness aside, I don’t think that’s the only reason his temper’s on edge,” Frostor interjected. “Given what he just told me and Luna, I think it’s very likely that his dreams are psychic flashes involving the MoonSaber and the prophecy. We ought to be on guard. It could be that it’s using him to warn us. Psis are more sensitive to that sort of thing.”
Silvian’s hand fell onto the hilt of the MoonSaber in an almost instinctive way. “Psiarik, sensitive. Hah, that’s one way of putting it,” he quipped before lapsing into a more serious tone. “And I’m its guardian, not him. If it had a message to get across, wouldn’t it get it to me somehow?” He drew the mystical sword and looked at the crescent gemstone in the hilt.
“Probably,” Frostor conceded. “I’m just concerned that in light of his dreams, some force knows the MoonSaber has been found and might be working against us. A psi seer doesn’t need to be the MoonSaber’s guardian to get a vision of warning.”
“And Psiarik isn’t a seer. He was schooled here on the Third Moon, not Mirindet. His powers are only trained in what his family taught him,” Silvian pointed out.
“His mother was an empath, and I believe his stepfather was a seer, from what he’s told me,” Selene explained. “But all psis are born with the spectrum of the abilities to a degree.” She looked to Luna and Chilla. “Is there a seer history on his father’s side?”
Luna straightened in her seat. “Like I told Frostor, Alluro’s never been prophetic.”
Chilla nodded in agreement with her tiny leader. “He’s a hypnotist. That’s his specialty.”
“Hypnotists have a bit of empathic abilities,” Frostor mused.
“Being empathic would imply Alluro is sensitive to other people’s feelings, and I can assure you, that’s not the case,” Luna said snidely, inspiring Chilla to smirk as well.
Silvian admired the gleam of the MoonSaber in the sunlight that came through the window and re-sheathed it. “Regardless, none of us will have to worry about that prophecy because I’m not going to use our sword in conjunction with any Incantation of Destruction. Nothing a Thunderian or Mutant did would make me risk our Moons going through more devastation.”
Selene’s eyes fell upon the sword now attached to Silvian’s belt and she found herself contemplating its power and why someone would use it to do such a thing. Surely none of the leaders of Plundarr or New Thundera would want to see their worlds or people endure horrors allegedly worse than the Thundera explosion disasters had wrought on all of them, but there was still the question of Mumm-Ra, who supposedly had the Mutants’ sword. “Vultureman, Aunt Luna,” she addressed the two most familiar with the demon priest, “If Mumm-Ra had the Sword of Plundarr, do you think he would try to steal our MoonSaber to start this Incantation of Destruction?”
“Caw, Mumm-Ra would do anything to destroy the Thundercats and Lion-O, including wipe out two planets and five moons,” Vultureman said bluntly. “Getting the Sword of Omens was what he was after with them in the first place.”
Luna nodded in agreement with the avian. “And Mumm-Ra is none too fond of any of us. He betrayed us, the Mutants, and just about everyone else who ever worked with him.” She paused and then added, “And Torlei isn’t much of a fan of ours either, especially since I killed her.”
“You killed her?” a surprised Frostor said. Hearing that Luna had killed was not the shocking part; he had heard that and worse in his own studies of her. The fact that she had murdered one of her own crew, one she seemed oddly devoted to despite their dysfunctional dynamic, was.
“In self defense,” Luna told him. “At the time she’d gone insane and was trying to kill us all. I beat her to the punch with a lucky shot from a laser blaster.”
Silvian’s face wrinkled in confusion. “This may be a stupid question, but if she’s dead how can she do anything?”
“Remember when we said she was dead and married to the mummy that imprisoned us?” When Silvian, Selene, and Frostor gave a nod, she went on to elaborate. “Some years after she died, Mumm-Ra raised her from the dead, the gods only know why, and wed her in some twisted black magic mockery of a marriage ceremony. His spirit masters transformed her into an undead creature much like him.” She frowned, and those who knew her well might have noticed a rueful note creep into her voice. “Torlei always did have ambition and in life, she had an interest in the darker teachings of the occult. I didn’t think much of it, and chalked it up to a personality quirk. Knowing what I know now, I suppose someone like her would sell their soul to dark gods for the right reason.” She gave a small shrug. “Anyhow, we presumed her destroyed when her and Mumm-Ra’s debut partnership ended with the Thundercats saving the day and blasting her into a volcano, but enough time dealing with Mumm-Ra has taught me that ‘ever-living’ is not a term to be taken lightly.”
Chilla raised an eyebrow. “You never said you thought she was alive before, Luna.”
“Bah! Do you think I would say that in front of Alluro so we could listen to him obsess about his dead sister endlessly?” Luna asked the ice woman. “I don’t think so, Chilla, and I don’t think you should either.”
“No,” Chilla agreed. “And if Mumm-Ra was going to strike at us, he’s had ample opportunity. We were easy targets back on Way Out Back.”
“True,” Luna agreed uneasily, and Silvian, Selene, and Frostor relaxed somewhat. Vultureman, on the other hand, was not quite as optimistic, but he chose to keep his beak shut. Things were tense enough in the MoonTower as it was without inciting paranoia about prophecies, evil immortal mummies, or impending invasions from wannabe sword-snatchers. There was already enough odd behavior among the Lunatacs, and the addition of Luna’s crew to the mix only doubled it. Lunatacs were strange enough as it was without them acting out of sorts.