Chapter Seven: Enlightenment
Psiarik and Cheetara quietly mused over their individual visions, trying to come up with some solid evidence. So far they were certain that the shifting sword was definitely a key factor, since it was one of the more disturbing aspects of both of their visions, excluding the comet. What troubled them was that neither could recognize the blade, nor understand why it was so difficult to look upon, and the significance of that fact.
“Now, in your dream, did the assassin say the name of the comet?” Psiarik asked. His earlier argument with Frostor was returning to him. He still thought it was a waste of valuable time to try and find answers that way, but he had to concede that no more rational option had presented itself as of yet.
Cheetara shook her head. “No, the comet itself said its name,” she said, a shiver running through her body as she recalled the comet’s voice.
“Do you think that the comet is alive?” he asked suddenly. The others had suggested it earlier, and while he the idea was ludicrous, he realized it would explain a lot if it were the case. Cheetara blinked at him, and he instantly regretted voicing his question… but to his surprise, she nodded.
“Yes, I think you’re right.”
“You do?”
Cheetara met his eyes seriously. “How else could it be heading straight for Plundarr considering it just appeared days ago? Some force has to be directing it… either its’ own or an external one.”
The Psi nodded in agreement. While this consensus was a breakthrough of sorts, they still didn’t have much to go on.
“One thing that gets me is the white reptile,” Cheetara said thoughtfully. “Plundarr doesn’t allow women to rise into places of power, so why would you see one holding the Sword of Plundarr?”
Psiarik shrugged and held his head in his hands. “I wish I knew.”
“Were you able to get her name?”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Only her face.”
Cheetara looked down at the table, deliberating an idea that cropped into her head. “I wonder if we could get her name somehow, and find her.”
“How?”
The cheetah debated on whether or not it was wise to discuss her abilities in detail with the Lunatac, but realized she had little other choice than to trust him with the information, given the dire circumstances. Distrust had no place in an alliance, especially when both sides needed one another. “I can force myself to have visions, and to go into trances. It’s very draining, but…” her voice trailed off as she gathered her thoughts, “…I can do it if I must, and in this case, I think we can both agree that I do. What I need you to do is make sure we won’t be disturbed, and listen to every word I say. Record it if you must. My trances drain me so heavily that I might not awaken for as much as a day or two, and with time being limited, that’s time we can’t afford to waste.”
“I understand,” Psiarik agreed. He stood and locked the doors leading into their chamber. “Can you do it here, and now?”
“I can,” Cheetara replied. Steeling herself for what came next, she stood, erecting herself to perfect posture. She stretched her arms straight out, raised her head, and closed her eyes. She took a final deep breath and then, without warning, began to spin in place. Psiarik watched in astonishment as the cheetah spun faster and faster, and he was forced to look away as her motion started to make him dizzy. When he looked back, she was little more than a golden blur. He heard nothing except her movements, and her heavy breathing, and then, all of a sudden she stopped dead. Her eyes remained closed, but her voice spoke in an eerie tone.
“I am on Plundarr,” she whispered, as her astral self took in a vision of a beautiful city sparkling in splendor beneath the ocean. “Far below the deepest waters… the currents are gentle, and I am surrounded by the Nautilus.”
Nautilus? Psiarik wondered. He had heard of their kind, but few had been seen. The only prominent Nautilus on Plundarr was one called Tiberon, from what he knew.
“The Nautilus are not like the rest of the mutants. They are peaceful, and they are greatly ashamed of what has happened to the other mutant clans. They know of—” her voice faltered, “Goroth Nug Jhahood. The old one and his delegates watch it, they follow it, and they try to steer it away… but they fail. They are exhausted and they seek help. They seek… the pale savior. The bearer of the sword… the one who arises from the wastelands…”
As Cheetara spoke, Psiarik paid close attention to every word she said. Some of it was new to him, and some wasn’t. Much of it sounded like ancient prophecy, which, while it had a habit of coming true, was vague and open to interpretation. Was he supposed to gather that the albino reptile was the pale savior of Plundarr? If so, then who was she, and how could they find her?
His questions were addressed as Cheetara’s mind searched for the same answers. “The savior has taken the Sword of Plundarr. It knows her, and it has power, but it cannot work alone. The savior is protected, but lost, without guidance. Treachery… so much treachery everywhere…”
“Where is she?” Psiarik asked. He was hesitant to disturb the cheetah’s trance, but the information would do them no good if they could not find the pale one.
Cheetara’s breathing grew labored as the stress of maintaining her vision began to show. “She is Warrior Queen. She is found.” Her body began to tremble, and she cried out as the tension in her muscles built to an almost intolerable level. “The volcanoes… the swords… the divine hearth of Draco… they must meet there to stop the Planet Killer. They must—UGH!” Her vision came to an abrupt halt as her body wore out, and she collapsed on the floor.
Psiarik immediately knelt by her side and checked her pulse. It was racing, and her body was covered in sweat. Her breathing was fast and shallow as her system sought to recover from the shock. It unnerved him to see the price the Thundercat had to pay to gain the information, but at least it was not for naught. The information was valuable, and he planned to alert Selene and the others immediately. Once he was sure Cheetara was out of immediate danger, he found the nearest intercom and called security, and asked them to take her to the medical facility, and upon learning that the others were gathered there, he left to join them.
* * *
A planet away, Lion-O walked in the vast field that lay behind the majestic Cat’s Lair. He was at a complete loss as to what he should do. As Lord of the Thundercats, he owed it to his people to see to their safety. But how was he to protect them from something like this? All their known weapons could not destroy it, and while the Sword of Omens and the Eye of Thundera were powerful, he did not honestly believe they had the power to stop something like that… especially when Sight Beyond Sight had shown him nothing but the comet itself, followed by a horrific flash that literally knocked the sword out of his hands with its intensity. He knew that wasn’t a good sign.
He searched the blue heavens above vainly for any answer. “Jaga,” he murmured. “Where are you? If ever I needed answers from you, it’s now.” He absently fingered the hilt of the Sword of Omens, sheathed in the claw shield, almost willing the ghost of his former mentor to appear.
But this time he never came. You haven’t seen Jaga in years now, Lion-O, an inner voice reminded him. He had liked to believe it was because he hadn’t needed him, because things had been peaceful, because New Thundera was finally on its way to being restored to the former glory that Old Thundera had. And while he had missed Jaga at first, it had given him some peace to realize that the restless spirit of the former leader had finally passed on to his eternal, and much deserved rest. Either that, or even Jaga the Wise had no answer for this dilemma.
A heavy sigh escaped the lion Lord, and he continued walking. Neither answer gave him any comfort.
* * *
Inside Cat’s Lair, a nervous WilyKit paced the control room. Tygra had left some time ago to alert the Thunderian clan leaders of the comet and its danger, and the Thundercat, now in her late twenties in age, was left to try and contact the Moons of Plundarr. In their last tries, Cheetara was unreachable, and they didn’t want to say anything to the officials there until they could confer with her. As it was, it felt as though it was taking hours to get through, and WilyKit was not the most patient Thundercat to begin with.
Therefore it was a welcome distraction when the console signaled an incoming transmission. “Finally!” she exclaimed, and answered. An unfamiliar—but undeniably handsome—Lunatac face greeted her on the other end. “Cat’s Lair here,” she answered in an official tone. “Can I help you?”
On the other end of the line, the serious features of Ambassador Darkail’s face lightened slightly as he received her answer. “Greetings, Thundercat,” he said smoothly, studying her feline features carefully. She was not a Thundercat he had seen yet, and in his humble opinion, the loveliest of them he had encountered thus far. He smoothed a stray lock of his dark green hair aside and proceeded with his reason for making the call. “This is Ambassador Darkail, from the Third Moon, calling on behalf of Queen Selene. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news. Lady Cheetara has just been admitted to our medical facility.”
WilyKit gasped. “Medical facility? What happened? Is she all right?”
“She collapsed while in a private conference with Psiarik today. He said it was the stress of a forced trance. Our healers have assured her that she will be fine with some rest, but she’ll be unavailable for a short time because of it.”
“Why did she force herself into a trance?” WilyKit pressed, eyeing the Hunter with mild suspicion.
Darkail frowned slightly. “From what I understand, she was trying to learn more about a vision both she and Psiarik shared regarding a comet.”
The Thundercat paled slightly. “The comet?”
“Your people know, then,” Darkail said quietly.
“Yes, we know,” WilyKit said with a sigh. “That was why we’ve been so urgently trying to contact her.” She looked away for a moment, and then met the Lunatac’s gaze again. “If I may ask, what are you Lunatacs planning to do about the comet? We haven’t come to any answers here, and frankly, we need them.”
A somewhat distressed look crossed the Hunter’s features. “We haven’t found any either. Most of the information is still classified, but suffice it to say that what we’ve learned spells the end for all of us, and we’re still at a loss as to how to stop that thing. I don’t suppose you have any answers, do you, ah,” he paused and eyed her curiously, “what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t,” the Thundercat replied. “I’m WilyKit, Ambassador.”
He flashed the attractive Thundercat a charming smile. “Please, call me Darkail.”
She smiled back weakly. Had the circumstances been less dire, she would have appreciated his smile more, as she found him pleasant, but now was hardly the time to dwell on such things. “All right then, Darkail. I’m afraid we don’t have any answers either.” She chuckled ruefully. “In fact, we probably would have asked Cheetara if she could see anything with her sixth sense. As it is, we’ve exhausted our own resources.”
“You have,” he murmured, his tone unclear as to whether he meant it as a question or a statement. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Look,” WilyKit said, leaning closer to the screen, “we have an alliance now, right? Wasn’t that what Cheetara agreed when she went there?” Darkail nodded back an affirmative. “Then let’s work together from here on out. I have a feeling both sides are at our wit’s end trying to figure all this out, and we need all the allies we can get to stop this thing.”
The Lunatac ambassador nodded in agreement. “I think that would be wise. I’ll find the Queen and speak with her, and get back to you as soon as possible.”
WilyKit met his eyes. “Can I ask another favor?”
“Certainly,” he replied, studying her amber feline eyes.
“Could you check on Cheetara and let me know how she’s doing… and tell her we hope she gets well?t would make Lion-O feel a lot better. And me too,” she admitted with a smile.
Darkail smiled back. “Consider it done. Until later then, WilyKit.”
The transmission then went blank, and WilyKit found herself staring the screen for several moments before she snapped out of her daze. Had she really just singularly made a decision on behalf of the all the Thundercats? “Guess I did,” she murmured aloud with a chuckle. She wondered what the others would say. In the past they’d gotten on her case for such proactive moves, but that had mostly been when she was younger and had a penchant for getting herself in trouble. She honestly didn’t think any of the others wouldn’t have done the same—perhaps not fast, but they would have, she reasoned—and she hoped that Lion-O wouldn’t object.
“I’d better go and tell him then,” she decided, and after appointing Snarfer to monitor duty, she headed out back, where she’d last seen him headed, to find the Thundercat Lord.
* * *
Ratrelle ran as fast as she could down the long corridor, looking desperately for a guard. Where did they all go? She was loath to call out and waste precious breath. She swiveled her ears backwards and could hear the reptilian gaining on her, her claws tearing up the carpet. Then Ratrelle thought of something that could very well save her life. She abruptly turned down a corridor that did not have carpeting. Ratrelle’s feet easily stuck to the marble floor, but the assassins did not. Her scales and claws allowed her no purchase on the slick surface, and she let out a yelp as she lost her footing.
Instantly, the concubine whirled around, ready to pounce on the prone female. To her chagrin, the reptilian had slightly recovered her footing, the look in her eyes making the rat’s blood run cold. The assassin’s muscles tensed under her fine scales and a snarl formed on her usually calm features. Before she could act, Ratrelle inhaled deeply and let out a high-pitched squeal.
The guards, who had abandoned all duties when they had heard the news that the jackal delegate had blurted so loudly, turned when they heard the yell. One of them raised his hands to the others, signaling that he would go check it out, and asked them to fill him on the situation when he got back. The others turned back to the vid screen.
“Damn it!” Bazungy cursed, leaping at the rat to shut her up. If that hadn’t alerted the guards, nothing would. They went down in a twisting of limbs and teeth. Bazungy had to give the rat credit, she was giving her a hard time, which was more than most beings on the planet could say. Ratrelle wound her tail around the reptile’s neck and squeezed. She gagged, and then in an amazing feat of agility, managed to sink her jagged teeth in the harem girl’s tail.
Instantly, the tail withdrew, and she let out a howl of pain twisting away from the reptile.
Then Bazungy noticed the whip marks on her back.
The reptile was turning out to be too much for Ratrelle and she knew it. As she twisted away, she steeled herself for a fatal blow. She would not demean herself by begging the assassin for her life, even if she did expect it was the end of it. But strangely, the blow never came. Ratrelle turned, and noticed the reptilian was regarding her calmly.
“Why did they beat you?” she asked softly, her mood changed substantially.
Ratrelle snorted. “Do you always play with your victims before you kill them?” she sneered, cradling her tail.
The assassin shook her head. “Did they beat you... because of me?”
Ratrelle nodded grimly and glared at the female. “Because of you, and because of what I saw… and mostly because I wouldn’t talk.” She laughed bitterly. “The kicker is, both sides would have me killed. Your side for talking, and their side for my not talking.” To the rat’s surprise, she put away her weapon and offered Ratrelle her hand.
“Let’s get out of here, Ratrelle,” the reptile said softly.
“Why should I trust you? You’re an assassin! You just tried to kill me.” She narrowed her eyes. It was likely a ploy to get her away from those who might help.
The reptilian nodded and smiled softly. “If I had wanted you dead, you would’ve been moments ago. I am called Bazungy.”
Ratrelle’s eyes widened. “But... that’s the name of General Klith’s concubine!”
“The same,” Bazungy said, mock bowing to rat girl.
Ratrelle was astonished. Not only had this Bazungy rose to a place of prestige, she had excellent cover. Well, not anymore, Ratrelle mused, seeing as she had told Slythe everything. Odds were he had known who Bazungy was from her detailed description.
“We must hurry. I know where they have your transport,” Bazungy said urgently, looking behind her. She disliked spending time in the dead end.
Ratrelle stood. She was not certain whether or not to trust the reptilian, but an instinct told her she should. As it was, Slythe and Jackalman had no further use for her. She would quickly become disposable, unless the jackal thought he might get more physical fringe benefits of her presence. It was not something she wanted to think about. “Won’t you lose your job by not killing me?”
Bazungy shook her head. “Not if you disappear like Slythe and Jackalman arranged.”
Ratrelle smiled at her, feeling a certain kinship with female. She by no means trusted her, but if she wasn’t safe with the deadliest assassin on Plundarr, who could she be safe with? The two turned back to the carpeted hallway and ran for Ratrelle’s ship.
* * *
Selene looked up as Psiarik entered the med lab. “Psiarik? What are you doing here?”
After he entered, some med lab personal hurried past with the limp Cheetara. When Altheus had told them that RedEye was sure to recover, they had quickly explained to Aurora what was going on, and had left her alone with RedEye whilst they sat in the waiting room. “Cheetara induced a vision,” the psychic said quickly, not wanting to waste time with trivial explanations.
“What did she see?” Selene pressed.
Psiarik had a haunted look in his eyes, and he didn’t not speak again until the med lab assistant took Cheetara out of sight and into a room. “The white reptilian in my dream, for starters. It turns out she’s the new holder for the Sword of Plundarr!”
“A reptilian?” Frostor said, blinking in surprise. “If I remember my Plundarrian history correctly, it’s been centuries or longer since it’s been in the hands of any Plundarrian not of a rat bloodline.”
“That’s not all,” Psiarik continued. “The Nautilus are also involved in this, and I’m pretty sure all the swords are, too,” he told them in a rush.
Selene stiffened at the thought of the Moon Saber, and prayed she would not have to wield it against anyone again. Unlike her brother and her father, she never took any sort of pleasure in battle. The only time she’d used the sword, she’d done so on instinct and adrenaline, avenging her brother. It was not a moment she wished to relive.
“Well what else did she say?” screeched an impatient Luna, obviously agitated by the information.
“That’s all she could find out before she collapsed. I think you should contact the Plundarrian government now, Selene,” he said, his voice filled with urgency.
As if on cue, Frostor’s communicator buzzed. He frowned in annoyance, and answered it tersely, “Yes?”
“Sir! High Councilman Tiberon has just arrived!”
“Tiberon—the Plundarrian?” he interrupted, his frown deepening. Coincidences like that startled him. Then again, the Nautilus were a people known for their psychic abilities. Perhaps they knew that the Lunatac government would want to speak with them.
“Yes!” exclaimed the guardsman on the other end. “He demands to speak with Selene!”
Frostor’s frown deepened. He had only met the Councilman once, and they had exchanged no words. He also recalled that there had never been a recorded instance in which a Nautilus had left the planet. “Escort him the council chambers at once,” the Governor General ordered. He paused and added, “and give him some water.” That finished, he cut the communication and met Selene’s gaze. “You’d better go.”
The Lunar Queen nodded nervously and left, escorted by Psiarik. Luna followed, and even though Frostor protested—after all, diplomacy and Luna hardly went together—his protests were lost on her. It was her feeling that if this Tiberon planned on making her Selene fight again, she would hear nothing of it.
Relatively silent, Chilla and Alluro observed the scene in awe, almost as if they had been watching a vid show. So much had happened in such a short time, it all seemed unreal to them. They hadn’t even had a chance to state their own thoughts before everything happened and ended. Alluro glanced over at Frostor, who was holding his head in his hands. The lines on his face looked deeper than usual, and his usually impeccable uniform was wrinkled as though it had been worn for hours. Alluro wondered if the Governor General slept since the news of the comet had reached him. He had a feeling he hadn’t.
Not far away, Aurora was oblivious to the turmoil around her. She sat next to her would-be mate and stroked his face absently as he slept. The news she had received was deeply disturbing, and she was still trying to comprehend it. She couldn’t believe that they were all going to die, and there was nothing they could do. Pointless as it might have seemed if they were all facing death anyway, she wanted RedEye to awaken and recover, if for no other reason than they could spend their last hours alive together. Fortunately, before she could think further along her depressing train of thought, RedEye shifted and let out a small groan. She stood and leaned close to the other dark-dweller. “RedEye?” she whispered softly, tentatively.
His eyes blinked sleepily and he winced at the harsh florescent light that filled the room. “Huh?” was all he could muster.
Aurora smiled and embraced him fiercely. Unsure as to what was exactly going on, but pleased to open his eyes and see her, the disoriented darkling comforted her and stroked her fine black hair. “Thank the gods you’re all right,” she murmured in his ear. He smiled, and sat up slowly. She relinquished her embrace and allowed him room. “How do you feel?” she asked.
He grimaced. “Like I was hit in the head with a comet... uh, sorry,” he mumbled, regretting his choice of words. Whenever he was around her, he seemed to stop thinking rationally. Thankfully, she was able to see past it. Instead she only laughed and hugged him even more fiercely than before, throwing in a passionate kiss for good measure. He made a pleased noise and wrapped his thick arms around her, drawing her closer. Aurora cooed and kneaded his back with her fingers.
“All right, that’s enough!” hissed a familiar voice. The two entangled dark-dwellers broke contact and turned. Chilla stood in the doorway, a smug look on her face. “The world is ending and all you can think about is sex? I’m disappointed in you, RedEye!” Chilla’s voice was as harsh as ever, but her expression gave away that she wasn’t entirely serious.
RedEye laughed. “Chilla! You haven’t changed.”
Alluro, lurking behind Chilla wearing a smirk of his own, chuckled and spoke up. “Some things never change.” He smoothed his hands over her shoulders. She only glanced back at him inquisitively, and it struck him that in times past she’d have iced him for such a gesture. “But fortunately some do,” he remarked.
“That better have been a complement, otherwise you’ll be sleeping on the couch,” she replied dryly, making her way over to Alluro. As she approached RedEye’s bedside, Aurora hopped off his cot, seeing as she had unwittingly been pulled on. She eyed RedEye curiously. “I might not have changed much, but you have,” she noted, looking at Aurora for a moment.
He favored her with a half smile and rubbed his head... a bad move. “Ack! Damn, I really whacked my head,” he grumbled. “So I lived, huh? I was sure I was going to get sucked into the comet’s pull.”
“You were lucky,” Alluro noted.
RedEye frowned. “It must’ve been luck... it sure wasn’t skill,” he muttered, remembering how he had sloppily drifted close to the comet.
“At least you’re all right,” Aurora said.
“But for how long?” he replied grimly, absently running his fingers through Aurora’s hair.
A tense silence hung in the air after that statement as they all pondered the implications of his words. There wasn’t much any of them could say to that, and anything that they could say was better left unsaid.
* * *
A short while later, Selene had called a conference with the newly arrived Tiberon and select trusted members of the royal council—her husband Psiarik, the Ambassador Darkail, and somewhat regrettably, dear old Aunt Luna. Frostor had excused himself once it was determined that his presence wasn’t vital, as he had military business to attend to—business involving, ironically enough, the mutant problem, which had all but fallen by the wayside since the comet fiasco began.
“Greetings, High Councilman,” Selene said nervously as she greeted the mutant. She had never seen a Nautilus before, and she was incredibly shocked by his appearance. She tried not to let it show outwardly, but she could not help but flinch somewhat, especially when his luminous eyes fixed upon her. She cast a sidelong glance at Psiarik, and she noticed that he looked ill himself, but before she could question him about it, he sat down. Luna too sat down, or rather, Amok did, next to the table, and she kept a wary eye on the mutant, who seemed to be ignoring her presence.
Instead Tiberon approached the Lunar monarch. “Queen Selene,” began the Squidman, “you are aware of the comet, Goroth Nug Jhahood?” It was more of a statement of fact than a question.
Psiarik flinched at the mention at the comet’s name. His dream came back to him, and the strange dizzying sensation he felt when he came into the room changed into a buzz, a maddening sort of sound that was barely audible, yet rang in his ears and made him unable to concentrate or focus on anything. He slumped down further in his chair and stared at the table, trying to listen to the conversation around him.
“Yes,” Selene answered Tiberon, both a bit surprised and relieved by his directness. She eyed him curiously. “How did you know what it was called?” She glanced again at Psiarik, and noticed that his expression hadn’t changed. It worried her.
“My people have been aware of this entity for sometime,” Tiberon told her. “There is only one way to stop him... and you are part of that way.”
Luna narrowed her eyes at the mutant as he started to say exactly what she suspected he would, and waved her crop in protest. “There’s no way!” the tiny woman shouted. “You leave her out of this!”
Tiberon’s luminous eyes fell upon Luna, and suddenly—and rather inexplicably—she felt calm. The Nautilus turned back to Selene. “My people speak of a prophecy. In the Darkest hour, a pale savior will rise from the wastelands, unite the Blades, and push back the darkness. The pale savior has arrived. She holds the Sword of Plundarr. But this prophecy does not refer to Plundarr alone. You must go to Plundarr, with the MoonSaber, to these coordinates,” he slid the paper containing the coordinates to her. “Once there you will await my return.”
Darkail looked at the Nautilus curiously, but before he could question it’s claims, or the fact that he was presuming to give orders to a Queen, Psiarik stood up, clutching his head. The buzz had only grown louder, and it was now to the point of making him almost nauseous. “What is that noise?” he howled, almost accusingly, at the Nautilus, his eyes fixated on Tiberon’s bracelet. He had realized that the invasive whisper got louder every time the mutant spoke or came closer to him
“It’s nothing,” Tiberon said in a strange tone. Suddenly, the whispering in Psiarik’s mind stopped. He inhaled sharply, trying to steady himself, as the disorienting sensations ebbed away.
Even though she knew him to be high strung at times, it seemed to Selene that his behavior was unusual, even for him. “What noise?”
Psiarik shook his head and frowned at Tiberon. “Never mind. I’ll be back later. I don’t think I’m up to this,” he muttered, and left the room without another word.
Unable to follow, Selene turned back to the Nautilus. “High Councilman, what is going on?”
“I can say no more,” he said as he rose to his feet. He bowed politely to the Queen, and then exited the room. Selene, Luna, and Darkail sat in stunned silence, and it seemed as though none of them could react until he had left.
Once he was gone, Luna blinked and a scowl formed on her features. “What in the name of the Moons just happened?” For reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt almost like she had fallen asleep for the past several minutes.
“I’m not sure myself,” Selene said in a haunted tone, looking over the coordinates. His words hung in her mind, almost as if they refused to leave until she accepted them.
Darkail looked over her shoulder. “Wait a moment.”
She glanced at the Hunter. “What?”
“Those coordinates—aren’t they the same as the ones where the comet is supposed to impact? Unless I’m remembering my numbers incorrectly,” he added, somewhat puzzled.
“They are,” Selene murmured, eyeing them in disbelief.
Luna frowned. “Why would he have you go to the place of impact? That sounds like suicide.”
“Back at the medical compound, when Psiarik told us about Cheetara’s vision, he said that she mentioned the Nautilus had knowledge of the comet, and Tiberon just now said that I had to be there with the MoonSaber. Maybe there is a way to stop it with the swords… both Psiarik and Cheetara had visions of a sword,” the Queen mused.
“I don’t like it,” Luna grumbled.
“Do you think he expects you to leave now?” Darkail questioned.
Selene gazed absently at the window. “I’m sure he expects me to leave soon. He said to wait for him there.”
“You’re a Queen!” Luna objected. “He can’t order you to do anything.”
“I doubt he means to be so presumptuous,” Selene replied quietly. “I think he’s more agitated than anything. Given our current relations with the mutants, it stands to reason he’d expect us to be uncooperative.”
Darkail nodded. “And for that very reason I don’t think you should go alone. Comet or not, you would be a prime target for the cutthroat primitives.” He bowed before her. “I’m willing to volunteer, your majesty. I’m well versed in Plundarrian custom and I am a Hunter. If there’s one thing those of my clan can do, it’s fight.”
“Thank you, Darkail. I’m sure between you and my guardsmen, I’ll be quite safe.”
“Forget the guardsmen,” Luna interrupted, “I’m going with you.”
Selene smiled despite herself and shook her head, knowing better than to try and talk Luna out of it. “In that case, may the Moon gods help the mutants.”
Back to Fanfic Archive