Spellbound
The darkness of night had filled the corner of Third Earth that held Castle Plundarr even more fully than it had back in the village where the Mutant who in the wastelands behind it, Jackalman, had been imprisoned just hours earlier. He had remained relatively silent on the journey back from the unicorn forest, aside from the time he’d taken to answer the other Mutants’ questions on how he had come to be imprisoned. Slythe had been surprised to hear that Chilla had nothing directly to do with his capture, but neither he nor any of the other Mutants intended on offering any sort of apology to their uneasy allies, the Lunatacs, for their accusations of it. Slythe had wisecracked that perhaps Luna would leave them alone if they thought the Mutants had no respect for them, and Vultureman hoped that he was right. Most of them were tired of dealing with them on a regular basis anyhow.
But none of that was on Jackalman’s mind as he stood alone in the field behind his fortress on that night.
In his hands he still held Mirlana’s remains and a shovel. He hadn’t said a word to the other Mutants—likely they would have derided him for it—but he intended to give her a proper burial. Honor was considered a hindrance and a weakness to most Mutants battle, but the jackal held a lasting respect for the fallen warrior maiden for her kindness toward him. He had at first thought of leaving her remains with the warrior maidens, but in the end had decided against it. If the women did not shoot at him on sight because of who he was—and he had to admit, he would have deserved it—they might have ignored or been suspicious of them had he just left them nearby.
In the end he decided he must do it himself. Perhaps a Plundarrian burial was uncustomary for her kind, but it was better than none. So in the loneliness of the moonlight, the canine dug a hole large enough to hold her remains and items, and he carefully placed them in. As he replaced the dirt over her grave and patted it down, he said a silent prayer and smiled.
* * *
Many miles away, Tygra stared out the window of his bedroom
in Cat’s Lair. It had only been a
little more than 24 hours since he had left that very room to be with Celeste,
and so much had happened to him in that time. He wondered how was it that she had fooled him so completely. Why had he been such an easy target for her? What character flaw was inherent within him
that had allowed Celeste to manipulate him with such ease? The tiger didn’t understand how it could have
happened, how it could have gone so far and so quickly without him being aware
of it, and it frightened him.
He was shaken out of his reverie when he heard a light knock at his door. “Tygra! It’s Cheetara. Are you in there?”
“Come in,” he answered quietly.
Cheetara opened the door and entered, closing it softly behind her. She approached him softly, her face filled with concern. “You barely said two words at dinner, and ever since you’ve been back. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I just feel so guilty for putting you all in such danger over something so selfish,” he said with a sad shake of his striped mane. “You all came and saved me, but I didn’t deserve to be rescued. It was my own fault for being caught in her lies, and it would have been just what I deserved after how I acted. Especially after I betrayed Lion-O. No amount of her will should have been able to push me to do that.”
“She was a powerful demoness, Tygra, with dark magic. It would have been hard for any of us to resist her influence if she’d had the chance to weave her magic the way she had on you. Everyone makes mistakes, Tygra, and Lion-O bears you no ill will for what happened.”
“He may not, but I do. Honestly, Cheetara, you have to admit that this one even tops out the keystone incident for foolish decisions.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, Tygra. Do you think the rest of us have never weakened in a way that we’re ashamed of? How about the time Vultureman used his telepathy beam on me, and I let my pride prevent me from telling Lion-O that I had a feeling Panthro was in trouble? Remember, Panthro was kidnapped by the Lunatacs as a direct result of it, just because I was afraid to look like I was crazy. That was pretty stupid and selfish of me, but you all forgave me for that. How is your moment of weakness any different?”
Tygra smiled in spite of himself, but shifted the subject nevertheless. “Speaking of the Lunatacs, I wonder what ever happened to Chilla? Damien enchanted her much the same way Celeste enchanted me. I wonder if she’s feeling the same way I am right now.”
“I think it’s a wonder a cold-hearted woman like her could even have feelings,” Cheetara said with a light laugh. “You certainly couldn’t tell it from any of the stunts she’s pulled in the past.”
“She was certainly feeling something when she lit into Damien once she figured out what was going on,” Tygra mused. “And I’d have to say she was feeling something pretty strong to make her angry enough to kill Alluro.”
“Yeah well, I can identify with wanting to kill him with that arrogant attitude of his,” Cheetara chuckled. “But seriously, I don’t think we need to worry about her. I’m far more worried about you. Please don’t be so rough on yourself, Tygra. You don’t deserve it. Remember, I wouldn’t be here talking to you if it wasn’t for you finding Celeste in the first place.” The cheetah gave him a warm hug.
Tygra’s smile broadened as he pulled his best friend close. “Thank you, Cheetara. You always know how to cheer me up.”
* * *
In the dark and dirty basement of Skytomb, Chilla stood in front of the industrial-sized furnace that fueled it’s power. She was once again dressed in her usual style of dress of a cape, boots, and tight white dress—an outfit of which she had several duplicates in very similar variations. Despite her inherent dislike and discomfort in the heat the furnace put out, she opened the hatch and tossed the red toga and sandals she wore back in Damien’s home into the blaze. “Good riddance to bad memories,” she said to herself as she watched the flames consume them into nothingness.
A sudden voice from behind her indicated that she was no longer alone. “Re-enacting Damien’s dramatic exit, are you?” Alluro questioned with an odd smirk from the balcony above.
She turned, glanced up at him, and then returned her attention to the fire. “Just getting rid of some junk that holds absolutely no value to me,” she answered flatly.
The hypnotist took a few steps toward her, down the metal stairwell. “Luna is concerned about you,” he stated abruptly.
Chilla turned to him again, this time with a mildly inquisitive expression on her face.
“She thinks you’re acting strangely,” Alluro continued. “And she’s wondering if you might vanish again… or do something equally ill-thought out.”
“She told you this?” The icewalker raised a dubious eyebrow. It wasn’t like Luna at all to talk about her personal feelings or concerns. In fact, Chilla had once remembered their illustrious leader saying that she’d rather spend a week locked in a room with Slythe and Mumm-Ra together than discuss anything of a personal nature with some of her crew. “What exactly did Luna say?” Chilla pressed. She had an odd feeling that he was trying to find something out on his own, and it didn’t have much to do with Luna at all.
“Like I said, she expressed some concern that you might not be completely over your feelings for Damien,” he replied, and met her gaze. After a significant pause, he added, “Are you?”
Chilla hardened her gaze as she caught the hint of what he was probing for. “I just burned everything that could possibly remind me of the creep, so what do you think?” she hissed in response. “I couldn’t care less about him. He was just some worthless man who tricked me long enough to put me under a spell so he could use me for his own purposes. I wouldn’t have tolerated him for more than five seconds if he hadn’t done something to my mind with his magic.” She slammed the heavy iron door of the furnace shut. “Actually, I’m surprised he was able to lure me in as well as he did. His type holds absolutely no appeal to me. So why would I care? He’s dead, and it’s no great loss.”
She brushed the dark dust from the furnace off her gloves to see if Alluro wanted to say anything, but he remained silent, so she continued. “Besides, falling for him made me irrational and weak, and I don’t intend to let such a thing ever happen again. Love is for the insecure of the world anyhow. You can inform Luna that it’ll be a hot day on the ice moon before I give any man a chance to abuse me that way ever again.”
“Right,” Alluro replied brusquely. “I’ll let her know.”
His tone was quiet, but it held a spark of something else that Chilla couldn’t quite read. She didn’t know what to make of it, and decided it would be best to just let it be. The basement door slammed loudly as the hypnotist made his exit and left her alone with her thoughts. She returned her attention to the fire behind the iron grate of the furnace, and watched it burn.
“Never again,” she murmured. “Never again.”
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