Spellbound
Tygra awoke as the bright sun filtered onto the king-sized bed he was sleeping on. He rolled over and reached for Celeste, but to his dismay she wasn’t there. She must have gotten up already, Tygra mused. He stretched and climbed out of bed, wondering why he felt so tired for having slept so long and so deeply. He still felt wonderfully relaxed and peaceful though, and figured that was more than enough. “I’m probably low on energy because I need food,” he said to himself. “Celeste said I could just call one of the servants if I needed anything.” Tygra pulled a rope that rang a bell in the servants’ quarters.
While he awaited an answer he wandered over to the closet in
the room, curious to see if it had anything to wear that would fit him. Curiously enough, his clothes were gone,
along with his whip. Oh well, I
suppose I don’t really need any weapons here anyway, he thought
indifferently, and made a mental note to ask Celeste about it later. After shuffling past a few garments, he saw
a toga-like garment similar to the one he had seen other men in the village
wearing, one that was a stunning shade of emerald green. Satisfied that would do, he put that on
instead, and slipped his feet into a pair of sandals that were on the closet
floor. They fit perfectly, as if they
had been made for him. He admired his
reflection in the mirror on the door.
Aside from the fact that he was a tiger-Thunderian, he looked like he
belonged there.
He heard a light rapping at the door. “Come in,” he called.
Mirlana walked in. “You called, Sir Tygra?”
He smiled as he greeted her. “I was just wondering where I should go to get breakfast. Celeste left before I woke up.”
“Lady Celeste is already out on the patio,” she informed him. “She woke up an hour or so ago and asked that you not be disturbed until you awoke. Breakfast is being served out there. Follow me.”
* * *
Meanwhile, Celeste and Chilla were sitting out in the morning sunlight. Chilla and Damien had woken up about fifteen minutes earlier, and Damien had temporarily vanished, telling Chilla only that he had a “surprise” for her. Celeste had stopped by Chilla’s room and picked out an outfit for the Lunatac to wear, as her clothes had mysteriously vanished overnight too, although Celeste assured their guest that they were simply being cleaned for her. Chilla herself was wearing a brilliant red toga-gown similar in style to Celeste’s, only it was a bit shorter and tighter. She too wore sandals, and her white hair hung loose about her shoulders and neck. Once dressed, Celeste had then taken Chilla down to the patio for breakfast. Like Tygra, Chilla was feeling very relaxed but at the same time very lethargic, as though her energy had been sapped from her.
If it was troubling her though, Chilla didn’t let it show. Instead she reclined in a lounge sipping at a glass of red juice. Its taste was exotic and sweet, not unlike the wine. “I wish Luna would stock this stuff in our stores,” she remarked.
“Well you have all these luxuries at your disposal here,” Celeste told her with a charming smile. “If you don’t want to, you never need to return to your ungrateful companions. Damien told me how poorly they treated you. From what he said, you’re better off without them. You know you are welcome to stay on with us as long as you like.”
“I plan on it,” Chilla answered. “I can use a vacation, especially from those jerks.”
“Damien is much more suited to you than any of those uncouth men back at your home anyway, at least as far as I can see,” Celeste interjected sweetly.
“As if I would be interested in any of them anyway,” Chilla retorted, and took another drink of the juice. “Damien is nothing like any of them.”
Their conversation was cut short when Mirlana and Tygra entered. “Good morning Celeste,” Tygra beamed, hurrying to join her side. It was then that he noticed Chilla’s presence, and her different attire. If he hadn’t known for certain it was her, he would have been positive she had a double. This Chilla looked cheerful, relaxed, happy, and friendly—the antithesis of the Chilla he knew. He met her eyes coolly. “Chilla, I assume our truce still stands?”
“Yeah, sure,” she replied, and then noticed his toga. “What, no more jumpsuit for you?”
“No more tight white dresses and capes?” he countered.
“Just tight red togas,” she replied, a frosty mist escaping her lips.
Celeste seemed quite pleased with their lack of animosity toward one another. Of course, it was hers and Damien’s magic dulling their aggressiveness that mostly allowed this. It wasn’t out of any selfless peace-loving nature, however. It was just that much harder keep them under their spell if they had things reminding them of the outside world, such as old grudges, to break it. “Wonderful,” she said, beaming at the two of them. “I’m so glad to see that you’ve put aside your differences here. I knew this place would be good for you both.” She turned to Tygra and gestured to the empty seat next to her. “Have a seat Tygra, darling, and have some breakfast. You must be starving.”
Tygra nodded and sat beside her, helping himself to the array of tarts, fruits, and rolls before him.
Damien joined them on the patio a few moments later. He gave a warm greeting to everyone, and then sat next to Chilla placing his arm around her. “My surprise for you is ready.”
“What is it?” she asked, her eyes lighting up with interest.
“Have you ever gone riding?”
“Riding? Like horses you mean?”
“Not horses—unicorns. We do live in the unicorn forest,” he replied with a mischievous smile.
Chilla’s face fell. “Oh right, like those unicorn guardians would let me within a hundred feet of any of their herd. They don’t like Lunatacs. They’re Thundercat allies.”
Damien waved his hand in protest. “You forget, my dear, you’re no longer with your old friends, and such petty group distinctions have no meaning to us. We know only two distinctions—our group and the outsiders. You are now one of our group,” he assured her, and planted a soft kiss on her hand. “Besides, not all the unicorns are in the care of the guardians. Only the white unicorns. We have our own herd, a small herd of black unicorns. They are the ones we ride. Please, come with me for a ride in the forest.”
Chilla sat up and placed her cup back on the table. “In that case, I’d love to.”
Damien turned to Celeste and Tygra. “Of course you two are welcome to join us.”
“I think Tygra is a little tired to ride, aren’t you?” she asked, staring intently into his golden eyes, willing him to agree with her.
“Yes Celeste,” he replied automatically, and sank deeper into the chair.
From the shadows, Mirlana cringed inwardly as she took in the scene. What a waste, she thought resentfully. A powerful warrior like him reduced to nodding and smiling and doing whatever Celeste says, like he has no mind of his own. Doesn’t he realize how she’s controlling him, what she’s doing to him? The servant slunk deeper into the shadows as Damien and Chilla walked out, only emerging when the two of them were well past the point where they might be able to see her. Another glance at Tygra and Celeste only confirmed how deeply under her masters’ spell the tiger and the Lunatac were. “I hope that bird gets to Castle Plundarr, and soon,” she whispered.
* * *
An incessant pecking droned on the window of Vultureman’s sleeping quarters at Castle Plundarr. The snoozing vulture tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t go away. “Why me?” he cawed irritably. “I’m a fellow bird, you know!” He rummaged around on the floor next to his bed until he found a small metal chunk—part of a gadget he’d been trying to build that didn’t turn out—and threw it at the window. Unfortunately he threw it too hard, and the glass pane shattered. He made a disgusted face, and thought about getting up to survey the damage, but decided it could wait. “At least I got rid of that annoying pecking noise,” he grumbled, and rolled over. He had just started to drift back into sleep when the bird that had been pecking flew in through the broken window. It landed on the stand beside his bed and squawked loudly.
From down the hallway came a very grouchy reptilian shout. “Keep it down, ssssome of us are trying to ssssleep, yessss?”
Now completely awake, the incensed vulture sat up and shook his fist. “Then get this damn bird out of my room,” he hollered back. Vultureman then threw a pillow at the bird, but it missed it’s target and fell with a soft thud onto the floor. Startled, the bird took flight and hovered above him for a moment, and then dropped Jackalman’s shoulder straps beside him on the bed.
Vultureman sighed resignedly. He was never going to get back to sleep. Instead, he reached over and picked up whatever it was that the bird had dropped on his covers, and then did a double take once his eyes focused enough for him to recognize the attire. “Jackalman,” he cawed incredulously. “These are his!”
The bird squawked again, as if to confirm the vulture’s statement, and then perched on the window, seemingly willing Vultureman to follow him. The mutant looked at the lesser bird and realized that the bird knew where Jackalman was. He wasn’t sure exactly how he knew, as it defied most of his common—or in the case of his castle mates, not so common—sense, but he knew his hunch was right. Clutching the straps tightly, he darted down the hallway toward the quarters of the other Mutants. “Slythe! Monkian!” he shouted. “Get up now!”
Slythe answered the door wielding a scowl and a very large spiked club. “I ssssaid keep it down, bird-brain!”
“Hoo hoo, I’ll turn you into a feather duster if you don’t shut up!” an equally annoyed Monkian threatened as he emerged from his quarters across the hall.
“Look,” the exasperated Vultureman said, holding out the straps the bird had delivered to him. “Some bird just broke into my room and dropped these on my bed.”
The reptilian leader of the mutants let out a low growl. “You awakened us at this hour for that? You had better explain yourself, Vultureman, yesss!”
Vultureman shoved the straps under Slythe’s nose. “Caw! Don’t you recognize these? They’re Jackalman’s! The bird in my room knows where he is.” He looked from his leader, who still looked at him dubiously, to the simian across the way, who didn’t seem impressed by the story either. “Obviously,” Vultureman continued, “our suspicions about the Lunatacs were right. We have to find out what those double-crossing moon dwellers did to him last night.”
Not impressed by his inventor’s sudden development of bird-to-bird ESP, Slythe glared at him. “The bird knows where Jackalman is?” he repeated incredulously. Did he tell you that, yesss?” Sarcasm dripped from the reptilian’s raspy voice.
Vultureman sighed. “I know it sounds crazy—”
Monkian stepped out into the hallway. “It sounds more than crazy, Vultureman. It sounds like you inhaled one too many glue fumes in your lab, hoo hoo.”
“Cawww, you have to trust me! Call it a bird thing, but I understand what creature was trying to tell me.”
Slythe paused for a moment, giving the matter some thought. He had severe doubts as to Vultureman’s sanity at the moment, but he also wanted to know what had happened to their missing jackal, and the straps in Vultureman’s hands were indeed those of his fellow mutant. He supposed it would be smart to at least investigate the matter. “You had better be right about this bird, Vultureman,” Slythe warned as he closed the door to his quarters behind him and joined the other two in the hallway. “Otherwise you’re going to be the one who’s missing—because we’ll vaporize you with your own vari-cannon for coming up with such an asinine idea!”
Monkian frowned. “Hoo hoo, you don’t mean that we’re going now? I want to go back to bed.”
Vultureman narrowed his eyes impatiently at the simian. “Quit whining, you pathetic primate. Just be glad I didn’t leave you in your, cawww, coma. I could have, you know. Now let’s go, before that bird leaves!”
Slythe rolled his eyes. “Oh yesss, follow that bird-brain,” he muttered.
Grumbling, Monkian fell into step next to Slythe. “Hoo hoo, which one would that be—the bird or Vultureman?”
Slythe sighed. “Both.”
* * *
Scanning the grounds around and beneath them as they sped along, WilyKit and WilyKat raced above the unicorn forest on their spaceboards. “Kit, slow down!” WilyKat called ahead to his sister. “You’re going to get us killed going at that speed!”
WilyKit laughed. “What a wimp! Stop talking like Snarf! Of course, if you’re chicken, I’ll slow down....”
“I’m not chicken!” he protested. “But we should go below the tree line and see what we can find of Tygra down there. Maybe we’ll be able to see him or Celeste’s village from there. It’s lighter out now, so that should help.”
“Oh all right,” WilyKit agreed, and slowed up enough so that her brother could catch up. The two descended into the forest together, keeping their eyes open for any sign of the missing tiger or a settlement among the trees. They continued to glide along, maneuvering between the trees for several minutes, until WilyKit suddenly slowed way down and brought her board to a hover. “WilyKat! Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” WilyKat asked, careful to keep his balance at the sudden stop.
“Don’t move, and listen really carefully!”
WilyKat hovered next to his sister and strained his ears. After several seconds, he thought he heard a galloping sound in the distance. “Oh, that’s the unicorns,” he said, relaxing once he figured out what the sound was. “The herd is probably running nearby.”
WilyKit shook her head. “It can’t be. We just passed the whole herd back on the banks of the River of Despair a little while ago. Remember, we saw them when we waved at the two guardians?”
The male Thunderkitten frowned. “Well, maybe they weren’t all there?” he theorized.
“Yeah, but that’s miles away from here,” WilyKit replied. “The unicorns can’t run that fast. And they don’t travel that far from each other.”
“Maybe it’s some other kind of wild horses?”
“I don’t think so,” WilyKit said thoughtfully. “Not in this part of Third Earth. The wild horses live out in the plains.”
WilyKat paused for a moment and listened again. “It’s getting louder, so whatever it is coming closer. Do you think we should wait and find out what it is?”
WilyKit nodded. “Well... yeah. But it might be something dangerous so maybe we should get up in the trees and watch, in case it’s something big.”
“Good idea,” he agreed. The two Thunderkittens rode their spaceboards to some high branches in one of the trees. They dismounted and turned their boards off, leaving them to rest nestled in the crook of the branch and trunk of the giant tree. Once the boards were secured, they crept further out on the branch to wait for the source of the galloping sound.
Within two minutes could make out two figures in the distance that looked like someone riding horseback, heading right toward them. The kittens stayed very still as the galloping figures slowed to a trot, and then a walk. The pair of junior Thundercats were astonished to see that what was being ridden were two black unicorns, and their riders were a human-looking man in a toga and a woman with blue skin and white hair that was a dead ringer for Chilla. Of course, the kittens didn’t think it could possibly be the Chilla they knew, for she only hung around the other Lunatacs or the Mutants, not handsome strangers in the woods that rode unicorns. The Chilla they knew also didn’t wear sandals or red togas. WilyKit and WilyKat exchanged puzzled glances as the two riders came to a stop directly beneath them.
“I told you this was fun,” the man said, dismounting the unicorn. “Our steeds should rest. We’ve been riding a while. They need a break.” He walked over to help Chilla off her mount. “Allow me, dear Chilla,” he said smoothly.
WilyKat and WilyKit exchanged incredulous looks that both held the same sentiment. That was Chilla?
The ice Lunatac smiled and took the man’s hand as she joined him on the ground. The two unicorns bent over to graze, while the unlikely couple of Chilla and the man stood close together and spoke softly to one another. The kittens leaned in closer, trying hard to make out their words. But they were in for a second shock when the man, unbeknownst to them as Damien, pulled Chilla into a tight embrace and kissed her passionately. To their complete surprise, the Lunatac did not seem to mind, in fact, she seemed quite happy with him.
“Who is he?” WilyKit whispered to her brother.
“I dunno,” he whispered back. “But aren’t his lips cold after that?”
Unaware of the spying pair above them, Chilla and Damien spoke to each other in low, hushed tones for a few minutes, shared another kiss, and then remounted their unicorns. As quickly as they had arrived, they galloped away into the trees of the forest again.
Once they were out of earshot, the kittens faced one another, equally shocked. “Can you believe it, Kit? That was Chilla! With a boyfriend!” WilyKat exclaimed in astonishment. “Do you know who he is?”
The female Thunderkitten shook her head. “Nope. This is too weird. Chilla was actually smiling and being nice! I’ve never seen her be that way, not even with the other Lunatacs.”
“Me neither,” WilyKat agreed. “And why was she wearing that goofy outfit, and where are the other Lunatacs? Do you think they know she’s hanging out with this guy?”
“There’s only one way to find out...”
“...follow them.” WilyKat finished. The two kittens grabbed their spaceboards, restarted them, and sped after them, staying just far enough behind to avoid being seen.
* * *
Lion-O drove the Thundertank along the countryside towards the Tower of Omens, Cheetara in the passenger seat next to him. “Thanks for keeping me company on my trip out here,” he said.
“Anytime, Lion-O,” she replied with a smile. “It felt good to get out of the Lair anyway. I can’t stop worrying about Tygra. I hope he’s all right.”
Lion-O looked at her, a concerned expression on his features. “Has your sixth sense shown you anything yet?”
“Nothing, and that worries me more. Do you really think this Celeste woman could be drugging him, and making him forget us? It’s just not like him to not come home at all, with no contact at all.”
“I don’t know,” the lion answered somberly. “I admit I’m not as confident as I was last night that everything is all right with him. But the Sword has not shown me anything either. When I ask it to show me Tygra, it just shows me his face.”
“And his expression?” Cheetara questioned.
Lion-O met her eyes. “Happy.”
The cheetah frowned. “I still think we should have heard from him by now.”
Their conversation was cut short when the Thundertank’s console beeped. “Oh great,” Lion-O groaned.
“What is it?”
Lion-O sighed. “The scanner has picked up the Lunatacs’ signal in the area, coming from a large vehicle… my guess would be the Lunattacker. It’s heading for the mountains—the ruins we were in yesterday. I think they’re going after the little bit of Thundrillium we didn’t finish mining, because of the accident.”
“We have to stop them. The last thing we need is for the Lunatacs to get more fuel to use in their weapons against us.”
“I agree. Let’s go,” Lion-O said authoritatively. He turned sharply and sped toward the ruins they had left behind the day before.
* * *
“Now that’s odd,” Lynx-O muttered, his ears twitching as he typed furiously at the Braille board.
Bengali walked over beside him. “What’s wrong?”
“This signal,” the lynx explained. He pressed a few buttons to bring up a visual on the screen for the others to see. “Several of the Mutants have left Castle Plundarr in fast pursuit of what appears to be a bird.”
Pumyra blinked, not sure she heard the elder Thundercat correctly. “A bird?”
Lynx-O nodded affirmatively.
“Are you sure that it’s not Vultureman?” Bengali wondered.
“No, it is not Vultureman. Look closely,” he told them, keying another sequence on the Braille board that zoomed in on the Flying Machine. “The Braille Board’s signals tell me that he is one of the ones in pursuit, along with Slythe and Monkian. It would seem that only Jackalman is missing this mission of theirs.”
“That’s definitely Vultureman,” Pumyra agreed.
Snarfer bounced up on his tail alongside Lynx-O. “Why do you think they would be following a bird, snarfer, snarfer?”
“According to these readings, the bird is holding something in its beak, some kind fabric or leathery material. Do you recognize it?”
Bengali shook his head. “It’s too far away, but it looks like a belt, or a shoulder strap of some sort.”
Pumyra studied the screen, frowning. “Are you sure that the Braille board isn’t malfunctioning? That’s very strange.”
“Oh no, it’s working fine,” the lynx assured her. “Panthro calibrated the entire system three days ago, and everything checked out fine.”
“I hope this doesn’t mean that those Mutants are up to something,” Bengali growled.
“Snarfer, when are they not?” the small snarf said with a sigh. “This can’t be good.”
Lynx-O nodded. “I agree. Snarfer, would you stay here and watch the tower while Pumyra, Bengali, I go and find out just what it is that those Mutants are up to?”
“Of course, Lynx-O. Yep, sure can.” Snarfer bounced up onto the control panel as the lynx stepped back to allow him full access to the console. The other Thundercats gathered up their weapons and headed to the door.
“Rrrowl, let us know if anything happens,” Bengali said as they left the room.
“No problem!” Snarfer called out after them.
A few minutes later, the Thunderstrike took off, in hot pursuit of the Mutants’ suspicious convoy.
* * *
Back in the Unicorn Forest, WilyKat and WilyKit stealthily pursued the two unicorns and their riders through the twists and turns of the heavily wooded forest. Eventually Damien and Chilla turned down a dirt path lined with wildflowers. The Thunderkittens paused behind the foliage of a large tree, waiting to make sure that they were far enough behind to avoid being seen by Chilla and her mysterious companion before they followed them.
“Do you think this path goes to the village where Tygra got that elixir from Celeste?” WilyKat wondered aloud in a tone low enough that only his sister could hear.
“I’d bet a bushel of candy fruit on it,” WilyKit whispered back. “Let’s check it out!”
Silently lowering themselves to the ground, the Thunderkittens dismounted their spaceboards once more and stashed them in a nearby bush where they would not be seen unless one were looking for them. Once they were certain that Damien and Celeste were far enough ahead that they wouldn’t notice that they were being followed, the young Thundercat pair darted down the path. Not far down the walk, they saw before them the village that had impressed Tygra so much the night before.
“Wow,” WilyKat breathed as he took in the scene of the prosperous, idyllic settlement nestled among the trees. Several buildings of impressive architecture and flawless decoration were positioned along a perfectly even street of cobblestones, which were unmarred by even the smallest stain of dirt. A large flowing fountain stood in the village square, spraying a brilliant shower of water that sparkled luminously in the dim light of the forest. Flowers, ornamental shrubs, and trees decorated every yard, and there was not a blade of grass nor a clump of dirt visibly out of place anywhere. “I never would have expected a place like this to be here.”
He then spied the mystery man leading Chilla into a large structure, even more opulent and beautiful than the surrounding buildings. It seemed to be made of marble, shining and white over the entire village, as if it were silently presiding over it. WilyKat pointed his sister toward it and she nodded knowingly. That was where they had to go. Not just to see where Chilla had gone—although they were curious—but more importantly, it was where they suspected Tygra might be, and where his mysterious healer Celeste would be. As quickly and as quietly as they could, the twins began to make their way through the village in secret, hiding behind bushes and walls, darting to and fro to avoid any sort of detection. Once they approached the palace, the spied a side archway, completely unguarded from what they could tell, and ducked inside.
* * *
Across the palace from where the Thunderkittens were sneaking in, Celeste and Damien’s servant Mirlana stood in front of an ominous set of heavy oak doors. It was in a corner of the palace rarely traveled, near the suites of her two masters. It was known to her only as The Vault. She had never been inside—no one but the two royals were allowed entrance in there, and none of the servants had yet dared to risk their wrath to satisfy their curiosity. Still, all of the slaves knew what was in there, or they at least suspected. Here it is, the slave thought nervously. Celeste and Damien’s collection room. All the mementoes, all the things that linked all of us, all their victims, to the outside world. The one place in the palace we’re forbidden to go. The former warrior maiden reached for the door. I have to know. I need to know what they keep in here, maybe I can to use it to make them remember.
Mirlana stepped forward, gathering her nerve. She was about to lift the latch when a plea of fear spoke up within her. If they catch you, they’ll exile you. They’ll destroy you. You saw what happened to the others. She closed her eyes as the memory of the last exile came to her. It was many years ago now, but she would never forget it. It was a Nai woman, another of Damien’s past victims, who snapped after several years of slavery. In a rage she had struck at her former lover and current master to demand her strength and freedom back. Damien had not been amused when her nails drew blood from his arm, and he had sentenced her to exile. He carried her through the street and threw her with incredible force into the forest, and then drew a barrier around the settlement so she could not re-enter. The servants had gathered around, some wearing knowing expressions of sadness, while others watched in horrified curiosity. Mirlana was in the latter group. The Nai woman shrieked as if bathed in fire, and fell to her knees, shaking uncontrollably. Her skin tore and stretched, aging and wrinkling at an impossible rate, while her hair grew sparse and dull in color before falling out. She cried as her body rotted around her, forcing her to feel the death and decay she would have been in had her mortality not been taken from her and replaced by so many years of their hosts’ dark magic. The doomed Nai let out one final cry of utter despair as she fell in a lifeless heap. There was a clatter of ash as her body hit the ground, leaving only the bones that would have been her mortal self behind. A sad cry on the wind was the only evidence that her soul had been released, but to what fate, Mirlana could only guess.
As she recalled these events, Mirlana drew her hand back for a moment. Did she really want to go through with this? Were the strangers worth risking what was left of her life over? But if you don’t go in and try to do something, you will live with the knowledge that you stood by and did nothing on your conscience forever… and would leaving this life be so bad, if this is all you have for the remainder of eternity? The sad realization finalized her determination. She made her decision and pulled the heavy doors open.
A musty odor greeted her as she crept in, quickly closing the door behind her to avoid detection. The forbidden room was immense and dark as night. Fortunately, Mirlana carried a lantern with her, which she turned up so that she could see. Situated right at the front of the room were two piles of items she immediately recognized. One was a light silvery-blue jumpsuit, neatly folded, with a fully retracted bolo whip sitting atop it. The other was a folded cape in various shades of blue and white, a white dress, shoulder straps with a crescent moon in the middle of them, two white boots, and a pair of white gloves.
So this is where Damien and Celeste keep the belongings of their victims, Mirlana realized, her suspicions confirmed. She quickly cast a glance around the room to see what else she might recognize, and gasped. The room was full of similar piles, far more than she ever might have expected, many times more than even the number of souls like her trapped within the village. In the name of the gods, how many have they taken during their existence? She fought back a wave of nausea as she contemplated the number of beings that had fallen prey to her masters’ scheme. And how many have they banished and executed once they no longer had a use for them, once they were no longer useful or obedient? The servant girl slowly made her way towards the back of the room, searching for anything that might be of use to her. One particular pile she stumbled across made her stop dead in her tracks. She set the lantern down and knelt beside it.
It consisted of an animal-skin halter top and loincloth, a shoulder strap with a quiver, still holding five arrows within in it. On the very top sat a long forgotten bow. Tears sprang to her eyes as she touched the items for the first time in many, many years. These were mine… all these years and they had them, hidden away… The memories of her past life living among the warrior women came back to her in a rush, so strongly that she wondered how they could have become so distant. She caressed the bow in her hands, contemplating how she had gotten herself into the sorry state she was in now. I used to be so fearless, so strong. I used to be brave. Look at me now, cowering in the darkness, terrified to make one wrong move or speak my mind. What have they done to me? How could I let all this happen?
Her emotions soon gave way to a cold, steely, vengeful resolve. Slowly she stood and wiped the tears from her eyes as she reclaimed her things. Well no more, Damien and Celeste. You’re finally going to get what’s coming to you. I’ll see to that.
She quickly changed her clothes, shedding the toga she had worn for so long, and robed herself in the skins of her past life. She was pleased to see how they still fit as if she had never stopped wearing them. Smiling darkly, she slung the arrow quiver over her back, picked up her lantern, and walked to the door. On the way out she stopped to pick up Tygra’s whip as well. She then slammed the vault door behind her and ran to her quarters, a fierce determination burning inside her.
* * *
Tygra yawned and stretched as he lay on a lounge chair while the afternoon sunlight comfortably baked him. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a chance to rest and relax like this,” he mused contentedly.
Celeste and Chilla joined him on the patio. “There you are Tygra, darling. I just found Chilla on her way back from the ride and asked her to join us. I do hope you don’t mind. Damien is busy getting the unicorns back to their pens, but he’ll be by shortly. How has your afternoon been so far?”
“I don’t mind,” Tygra said, not even realizing how odd it was to say that he didn’t mind Chilla’s company. “And my afternoon has been wonderful. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve felt so at ease.”
“Yeah, this place has that effect,” Chilla agreed absentmindedly. “Someone should send Luna here to calm her down.”
Celeste’s smile faded ever so slightly as Chilla spoke of the outside world. Damien isn’t doing as well as he should in making her forget the outsiders. I’d better get her some more of that wine of forgetfulness, the dark mistress thought. She met the ice Lunatac’s eyes. “I doubt your friend could appreciate our home the way you can.” Her smile returned as she motioned to a nearby slave. “Oh, I had the servants whip up something you might like, given your unique physiology—a frozen dessert made from a combination of the wine and the fruit. Something to keep you nice and cool in this warm sun.” The slave nodded and quickly retrieved a dish of the dessert, and placed it in front of Chilla as she took her seat.
“Interesting,” Chilla said as she tasted it. “I’ve never had anything like this. It’s wonderful!”
“It’s an ancient recipe that our ancestors discovered in a First Earth ruin. They called it sorbet.”
“I like it,” Chilla stated, and scooped up her dish of sorbet. She nodded and walked to the other side of the patio, looking out at the view beyond to see if Damien was arriving yet.
Meanwhile, Celeste sat next to Tygra who smiled and put his arm around her as she joined him on the lounge.
“I missed you while you were out,” he whispered, eyeing her longingly.
The sorceress smiled at him and leaned against his soft striped fur. “Don’t concern yourself with that, my love. You’ll soon realize that I’m never gone long.” She met his eyes and Tygra kissed her deeply, drawn in by her magnetic presence. The wicked Celeste used the opportunity to take a bit more of his vitality from him, savoring it like a tasty morsel. Like he had not in their lovemaking the night before, Tygra did not notice it in the kiss. All Tygra felt was completely enraptured and lost, but so contentedly that he did not even think to question it.
Just then WilyKat and WilyKit, who had spent the last twenty minutes or so sneaking their way around the palace, found the patio. They crept out and hid behind a large topiary. “Kat, look,” WilyKit whispered urgently. “It’s Tygra! He was here!”
“Yeah, and look at the pretty lady he’s with,” WilyKat murmured. “If that’s Celeste, I see why he left to visit her!”
WilyKit was not as impressed, and cast the couple a suspicious glance. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t seem right with them. Did you notice how out of it he seems? I think Cheetara was right, something strange is going on with her.”
“I don’t think so,” WilyKat disagreed. “It’s love. It makes guys act funny.”
“And how would you know?” she whispered back. “Like you’ve ever had a date! Besides, look at how weird Chilla’s acting too. You don’t think she’d normally not be trying to fight with Tygra? No, I think Celeste and Chilla’s boyfriend are doing something to them to make them act this way.”
WilyKat bit his lip thoughtfully, then regarded Chilla for a moment. “Well in Chilla’s case, it’s an improvement. Maybe they should keep her sedated like this. She’s a lot nicer this way.”
“I’m serious, WilyKat. I think we should go back to the lair and tell Lion-O what’s going on. I bet he’d want to know about this.”
WilyKat nodded. “I am being serious. But yeah, I guess you’re right. Let’s go.”
Having decided they’d seen enough, the Thunderkittens backed away from the bush and darted back into the hallway from which they’d come. Unfortunately in their haste they were not careful enough to check that it was empty, and their error brought them face to face with Damien.
“Well well, what have we here?” Damien inquired with a vicious smile.
“We’re friends of Tygra’s,” WilyKat replied nervously. “We were really worried about him.”
Damien narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Really? Friends don’t sneak around and spy on the private lives of other friends. No, I think you’re here to cause trouble.”
WilyKat shook his head, fighting back a feeling of dread. “No, you don’t understand, we’re from Cat’s Lair, where Tygra’s from, and—”
The evil master of the palace snarled and before they could react, grabbed each Thunderkitten by the collar of their clothes, and pulled them up to eye level. “I know who you are, Thunderbrats,” he hissed. His eyes sparkled with malice and his fingers grew long and clawed. His sneer grew wider until his face showed it’s natural, demon-like form. “I’m not about to let you run home and tell your little Thunderkitty friends about what you’ve seen here and risk losing what Celeste and I have worked so hard to obtain. No, Tygra and Chilla are ours, and the rest of your inferior kind had better accept that!”
“Let go!” WilyKit cried as she struggled, and kicked him hard in the shin. The blow caught him off guard, stunning him temporarily, allowing them to squirm out of his grasp.
He roared furiously. “Now you’re are really going to pay. Nobody trifles with me and lives to tell the tale!”
The kittens backed up in a defensive stance. “Who do you think you are that you can just take Tygra from us and then attack us when we want to talk to him?” WilyKat yelled.
“I’ll tell you who I think I am,” Damien growled. “I am Lord Damien, far older and wiser than any of your kind, master of these lands and woods, and I will take whatever and whoever I want.” He stood to his full height in supernatural form, becoming more forbidding and terrible in appearance with each passing second. The kittens gasped in fear as his features twisted before them to something only a little less hideous than Mumm-Ra himself.
“Kat, let’s get out of here,” WilyKit squealed fearfully.
“No, I don’t think so!” Damien snarled, and lunged at them. First he swiped at WilyKit, his razor sharp claws missing her back by inches. WilyKat reached into his pouch and threw some smoke bomb marbles at him to buy them enough time to move, and the pair of them ran down the hallway with the enraged Damien in hot pursuit. Panicking, they turned a corner looking for the exit. Unfortunately they found a dead end instead, and it would prove to be a deadly error in judgment. They turned and gulped, knowing what it meant when the demon arrived. Damien had them cornered.
“You won’t take us without a fight,” WilyKat stated bravely.
The demon laughed. “As if two weak cubs such as yourselves could be a challenge.” He drew back his arm and struck WilyKat hard in the head with supernatural speed and strength. Unable to withstand such a blow, WilyKat collapsed to the ground unconscious instantly.
“No!” WilyKit cried. “WilyKat!” As she whirled around to face their attacker, ready to put up whatever fight she could, Damien struck her as well, and she fell to the floor helplessly next to her twin.
Damien snorted derisively. “Some challenge.”
He plucked the children off the floor and chuckled to himself. “At least that worthless jackal Mutant won’t be lonely in the dungeon anymore.” He turned and headed to the dungeon, where he unceremoniously threw the pair of them into the cell directly across from Jackalman.
“It’s about time! Are you going to let me out now?” Jackalman demanded.
Damien scowled at the Mutant. “Hardly. I just brought some company for you to talk to.” He smirked cruelly at the three of them. “I do hope you like your new home. Enjoy dying together.” With that, he then turned and left the three to rot in his dungeon.
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