Chapter 27 of Signal in the Sky

Only
By Purrsia Kat & Spaced Angel

If something was too good to be true, then usually it was.

On the main viewscreen of the Vertis high above the hazy miasma from Firerock Mountain, Captain Shiner stroked his chin and watched a promising situation rapidly turning sour. For all of Mumm-ra's promises and assurances, it seemed the old fool had underestimated the strength and cunning of his enemy once again. Not that the Thundercats were any problem; their ship was down and as far as he could see, they were trapped, unable or unwilling to leave their relative safe haven to risk exposing themselves to the noxious fumes of the molten rock that was poison to their species.

No, Mumm-ra's mistake had clearly been more fundamental. He had underestimated Grune.

From what little he knew of the fellow, he was a Thunderian gone bad. If the old adage was true, then the enemy of Mumm-ra's enemy should have been his friend. Looking at him now, however, it didn't take a genius to see that there was going to be trouble. Grune's upturned face was twisted into a grimace of rage as he tracked Mumm-ra's progress across the sky and the way he wildly swung his club at the reddened clouds was tantamount to a challenge in anyone's book. Clearly, he had to be the reason for the presence of Thunderians in this accursed place of moving mists and bubbling lava flows. If Mumm-ra expected him to blithely hand them over, then he was going to be sorely mistaken.

For a moment, Shiner was torn between trying to contact Mumm-ra to let him know of this development and letting the drama play out. Either way, he could see a slim chance of getting the riches promised to him when he had undertaken this mission. It was only by chance that he had again been passing close to Third Earth and accepted at all. Several hours ago, it seemed simple enough. Use some device called a Thunderscope that Mumm-ra had pilfered from the Thundercats to locate other Thunderian survivors somewhere on the planet. For this, Mumm-ra had made bold promises about covering him in gold. The old mummy had deftly deflected any hints as to why, with this great power of Ancient Spirits backing him and a pool of magical scrying liquids, he could not locate these survivors himself. As a mercenary, Shiner wasn’t one to question a paying customer’s motives and hadn’t pried much beyond a casual remark.

It had sounded too good to be true, however. Now Shiner was left reminding himself that he should have learnt his lesson by now.

Any action he was about to make became redundant when he saw Mumm-ra swooping down to the stricken Thundercat ship. Obviously he had seen Grune. All that could be done now was to watch and wait for the whole depressing episode to unfold. There was a certain inevitability about it that didn't need Shiner's lofty viewpoint to know what was going to happen. Mumm-ra would demand the Thundercats and the Thunderians. Grune, the intractable fellow that he was, would no doubt refuse. They would fight. Time would be wasted. The Thundercats would get their ship moving again and somehow they would win, as they always did. Even though his dealings with the species had been limited, Shiner knew enough to be sure that the gods smiled kindly on these felines and that luck ran on their side. If only Mumm-ra and his so-called allies could see that too, they wouldn't waste so much time fighting each other and concentrate instead on their true enemy, the Thundercats.

Still, what point was there in telling them? He was a mercenary, out for hire, paid to fight other people's battles, not get drawn into the morality of them. Mumm-ra and his cronies could go to hell as far as he cared. They could fight this battle until the end of eternity and he would support whichever side could afford his services. Someone had to make money out of the conflict, and he could think of no better person to do so than himself. That is, if he got paid at all.

If Mumm-ra came out of this empty-handed, then Shiner could see himself being out of pocket too. That was unacceptable. This wasn't some charitable organisation he was running, nor any favour he felt inclined to make for that surly collection of dry bones. This escapade had already cost him in fuel and a valuable contract with a diamond cartel on the fringes of the Nebulean cluster. When it came to money, Mumm-ra had a lax attitude to his and other people's fortunes. If he thought that his crusty spells and shadowy spirits made the world go round, then Shiner had news for him. Wealth was the only reality and the only way to get it was to take it from someone else, either by stealth or by force.

And since force was inappropriate here, then by stealth it would have to be.

"Is the teleport functioning?" he barked out to one of the junior flight officers.

The man's grey chins wobbled as he gave an answer in the affirmative.

"Excellent."

Shiner smiled to himself. It might be worth risking Mumm-ra's displeasure just to see the look on his face when he realised his precious Thundercats had been snatched from under his nose. And then, of course, would come the negotiations. Yes, he was sure Mumm-ra would pay dearly to have them back. Just being covered in gold might not be enough.

"Lock onto the Thundercats trapped in that downed ship and have them teleported aboard," he ordered.

"A rescue, sir?"

"No, a kidnapping," Shiner corrected him. "Have a guard ready to meet them and make sure the cells are prepared." Again he smiled. The irony of the situation was almost too delicious. "I have a feeling our guests might not be too pleased to see us."

***************

The light flickered and winked into darkness. Its passing was marked by silence for words alone could not convey the enormity of what that single light had meant. With it had died any hope Lion-O had harboured of escape from Firerock Mountain. Now just getting out of there alive seemed almost impossible too.

"What now?" he found himself asking.

For a long time, Panthro stared at the stilled light. When finally he mustered enough energy to reply, it was only to shake his head and confirm what everyone in the Feliner already knew.

"That was the last of the power. The energy drain of the shield on the reserve cells stripped them faster than I had anticipated."

That hadn't really answered Lion-O’s question, so he asked again. "What now?"

Panthro glanced over at him. "Honestly? You can't work that out for yourself?"

"Yes, but I was hoping we had other options."

"You mean rather than wait to see which gets us first, the Thundrainium, Grune or Mumm-ra?" asked Felina.

He caught the rising pitch of concern in her voice and wished he had something to say other than to agree with those bleak choices. If ever a bad situation had got worse, then this had to be right up there with the major disasters in Thunderian history. Not only were they stuck in a Thundrainium field, the fumes of which were separated from them now only by a thick outer coating of metal, but outside were not one, but two of their avowed enemies. Grune was bad news on his own, but since Mumm-ra had appeared their chances of making it through to the end of the day alive had just dropped considerably. The shadowy inhabitants of the Astral Plain were probably preparing a welcome for them right now. Lion-O had to wonder if one resident in particular was looking down on him now with disapproval. It was his job to lead, and Lion-O had to admit he wasn’t doing such a hot job of that at the moment.

With that unpleasant thought in mind, he could feel his sense of helplessness turning to despair. He was Lord of the Thundercats, bearer of the Sword of Omens. With all this power at hand, he had to be able to do something to drag their hides out of this dismal situation. Sitting in the Feliner waiting for something to happen was an anathema to his soul. He’d thought of calling the others by sending the signal up, but what good would it do? They had no transport to get them there in time and even when Tygra and the others showed up, they would face the same grim odds. No, the four of them had to pull themselves out of this somehow.

"I'm going outside," he said decisively.

"No," said Panthro. "You do that and you'll be as weak as a kitten before your feet hit the floor."

"Not necessarily. If I can use the Sword to blast a way through the rocks--"

"What about the effect of the magnetic field out there on the Sword's powers?"

That hadn't occurred to him. Now he realised the futility of what he was saying, frustration translated itself into anger. He struck the control board with his full might, leaving a spidery crack where his fist had impacted on the metal.

"Then what are we going to do?" he demanded of no one in particular.

He glanced up, expecting to see Grune's mocking face sneering down at him, but instead found that the former Thundercat’s attention was now focused elsewhere. He watched as the sole of Grune's foot lifted and came smashing down again, making the ship rock. There was only thing he knew of that could make Grune that angry and craning his head round to see the cause showed him that his guess had been correct. There was Mumm-ra in his towering, energised form, hands on hips and teeth bared in part grimace, part smile.

"Looks like there's gonna be a fight," said Panthro, following Lion-O's gaze. "That might work in our favour."

A loud yawn sounded from the rear seats and Lion-O looked over his shoulder to see that Felina was just removing her hand from her mouth.

"Sorry," she said, "I'm just feeling so tired."

"That'll be the effect of the Thundrainium," said Panthro, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn of his own. "I thought we'd have a bit longer than this before it started getting to us."

"Have you shut the vents?" suggested Cheetara.

He gave her a lop-sided grin. "That was the first thing I did. See?" He half turned and tapped a grilled panel. A little of his good-humour faded when his finger traced the fine crack that had not been there a few minutes ago. "What the--" he began. Licking his fingertip, he placed it over the crack and his brow furrowed with concern. "There's air coming in here. We've got a leak."

It didn't take too much imagination to work out who was responsible for that. Lion-O inwardly cursed his inability to control his anger. One silly outburst and show of rage was rushing them all closer to a Thundrainium-induced coma. That was unless he could think of a way out of it.

With anger getting him nowhere, he took a deep breath and tried to think what Jaga would have done had he been here. Jaga given some brief advice only several minutes before, when he’d appeared briefly to warn of the trap Grune had laid. In retrospect, Lion-O had to wonder why Jaga hadn't spoken up before they'd found themselves in this mess. Being wise after the event was hardly to be commended; in having such knowledge, surely timing was everything? But then, Lion-O reminded himself, if Jaga constantly held his hand from the astral realm, then Lion-O would never learn from experience how to lead.

Furthermore, the fact remained that he, Lion-O, had to bear a large portion of the blame for this situation. He had pushed this mission until he had become sick of talking about it. He had experienced the highs of anticipation and the lows of disappointment. For someone always used to getting what he wanted, the frustration was soul destroying, almost as much as the cat-and-mouse relationship game he played with Felina. Because he wanted it, because he wouldn't give up or take a minute to think about what he was doing, that was why they were here, in a dead ship, with an all-powerful weapon that was useless beyond their limited confines, waiting for death to pluck them at its leisure. So much good had it done for him to bring the Sword this time, for his fear of having it fall into enemy hands or be destroyed during the trip that ended at Hook Mountain, was fast coming true on this outing. Lion-O could appreciate irony, but not when it was happening to him, he realized. Trying to tell himself that his friends had wholeheartedly supported him in this venture hardly mitigated his guilt. 'It's not my fault everyone's dead' was not an epitaph he had wanted to see on his gravestone.

He was rudely shaken from his indulgent thoughts as the Feliner shook under the impact of what felt like an energy blast. With the shield gone, the starboard wing sheared off and the body of the ship was thrust back towards the edge of their precarious landing place. The shock had hurled Lion-O from his seat and when his wits had returned to normal, he found he had ended up on his back, looking up into Panthro's equally dazed face. Sitting up, a quick look out of the cabin window revealed that Mumm-ra and Grune were now engaged in a fight. Energy blasts spun wildly from a massive double-bladed sword that Mumm-ra twirled, easily fending off the frenzied rage of Grune's attack. As if Mumm-Ra was not menacing enough in his everliving form, it was disheartening to see he’d gained some kind of impressive weapon besides.

Of more immediate concern was their own situation, for now the Feliner's rear port side hung out over the mass of liquid Thundranium and the ship was rocking as it tried to decide whether to stay on land or risk plunging into the flow below.

"No one move," Lion-O ordered. "Just stay perfectly still." The ship finally made up its mind and decided to stay put. "Cheetara, see if you can move over to where Felina is. It's better if there's no weight over that side."

"Despite the implication that I'm heavy," she said, giving him a smile, "I can see the logic in what you're saying." Gingerly, she got to her feet. The Feliner swayed a little and Lion-O held his breath. Only when it had stopped moving did Cheetara take a step closer to Felina. The slightest shift of her weight and the ship thudded solidly onto firm ground. Another step and they were out of immediate danger. Lion-O felt able to breathe again.

"Thank Jaga," he said. "Everyone all right? Felina?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Lion-O," she said, unable to contain her vexation at his attempts to show concern even under these trying conditions. He had to remind himself of Tygra's advice about not smothering her and resolved to do better in future. That was, if they had a future. Being between a rock and hard place was hardly the time or the place to start analysing the failure of their relationship, however.

"What now?"

The question he had asked earlier came back to haunt him, except this time it was Felina doing the asking. And still he had no answer.

"We wait," said Panthro, much to Lion-O's surprise. "Whoever wins won't just leave us here." He shrugged, trying to think of anything good that could possibly come out of that situation. "I suppose they'll take us somewhere and then we'll have to think about escaping. How does that sound?"

"Grim," said Cheetara. "What makes you think they won't just tip us into the Thundrainium?"

"Because they would have done it by now." Panthro yawned heartily and rubbed his eyes. "By Jaga, I feel weary. I'll be glad to get out of this place."

Lion-O snorted. "You make that sound like a positive step in the right direction."

"Well, we can't do much here, let's be honest."

"Except wait."

"Right."

"And if it doesn't play out like you've said?"

Panthro opened his mouth to answer. In the aftermath, that was the one thing that Lion-O remembered clearly. He saw Panthro's lips begin to form a word a split second before the world turned red. A crimson wash coloured the cabin windows and the very air around them. With it came a roar like the battle cry of an enraged beast. The sound slammed into him and made everything shimmer before his eyes. The thin sliver of land that had been beneath the Feliner was suddenly above them and the ship was airborne again. Her engines were dead and yet she flew, not with the elegance of powered flight, but on an inevitable horizontal course that gradually decayed into a graceless plummet, leaving her inhabitants' stomachs somewhere far behind.

Upside down, the Feliner splashed into the lava flow and began to sink into its depths. Like slime, the outside world oozed through the cracks in the ship's broken shell and penetrated the stifling interior. With it came such fatigue that the shimmering blue light that shone for a few seconds in the dimmed cabin was barely seen through half-closed eyelids, which finally succumbed to weariness and closed as the glow faded away.

***************

All interest in the fight was forgotten as Grune watched the stray bolt of energy fly from Mumm-ra's weapon straight towards the stricken Feliner. Already clinging to its thin hold on solid ground by a thread, it would have taken the tiniest jolt to send it tumbling into the depths of Thundrainium hell. The energy bolt had power enough to thrust the ship far out over the bubbling sea of molten rock, throwing it into the air like child's toy, before leaving it to fall back to earth. The Thundrainium received this offering with greedy thanks, quickly consuming it and dragging it down from sight.

The Thundercats were gone. No magic in the world could pull them alive from that fiery embrace. His one chance for revenge had been cruelly snatched away. Someone would have to pay.

"You rancorous fool!" Grune roared, turning his rage on Mumm-ra. He charged at him, club already swinging in a deadly arc towards the sorcerer's head. Momentum carried him on, even when Mumm-ra had stepped deftly out of harm's way. A swipe with the flat of the blade of the weapon Mumm-ra carried sent him flying, and Grune the Mighty ended up sprawled on the floor, his club reeling from his hand like a drunken snarf. Groggily, he made it up to his hands and knees and glared daggers at Mumm-ra.

"I will tear your withered heart from your body for this!" he growled, raising a clenched fist for effect. "Believe me, I will!"

Mumm-ra seemed unimpressed. In fact, he laughed. "You can try, as many have tried. But do not blame me for your own failure, Grune."

"This is your fault! I had the Thundercats in my grasp--"

"And now they are dead." Mumm-ra smirked. "We both have what we want. Does the method matter?"

Grune snarled and struck the pebble-strewn ground with his fist. "To me it does. I wanted to see Lion-O beaten by my hand, to have him know the sense of failure and the bitter taste of defeat that has dogged my days since Jaga ruined my life."

Mumm-ra made a sound halfway between a snort and a laugh. "Such you could have had if you handed the Thundercats over to me as I asked."

"You would have shared your victory with me? I doubt that.”

"You can still have your revenge. Give me the Thunderians and you may have the honour of dealing with the remaining Thundercats. Cat's Lair could be yours, if you have the guts to take it."

Grune eyed Mumm-Ra with suspicion, for he did not trust wizards with their sneaky ways, even if he did have that magic to thank for being back among the living. “What about the Sword of Omens? Now it’s lost, too.”

Mumm-Ra shrugged. “I am content that it’s melted down into a pool of molten liquid with its contemptuous bearer. Either outcome pleases me, really. Besides, I never could figure out how to get it to cooperate with my dark powers. It’s just as well. So what do you say, Grune? Do we have a deal?”

Under different circumstances, Mumm-ra's offer might have merited serious consideration. After all, what were three scrawny Thunderians compared with the greater prize of the Thundercats' fortress? The temptation to agree lasted less than a heartbeat before he was reminded that Mumm-ra's meddling had snatched away from him the intense pleasure of dispatching Jaga's protégé to join him in the Astral Plain. He’d invested far too much energy into that twisted dream to meet with such a disappointing outcome.

"Never!" he roared, jumping to his feet and grabbing his club, ready for battle. There was still satisfaction to be got from this shambles, even if he had to be content with wiping that grin from Mumm-ra's face.

Mumm-ra in his turn took up his weapon and the twin blades extended from the handles. This sword had a certain look about it that struck a cord in Grune's memory, but for the moment he could not place where he had seen it before. Certainly not here on Third Earth but in another lifetime, perhaps, on the home from where Jaga had driven him? Shaking his head to drive the feeling of familiarity away, he resolved to give the matter greater thought when he took it from Mumm-ra's severed hand.

Before the battle could begin, however, a light from above made a blue circle on the rutted ground. Down into it descended a slim man, dressed in a grey uniform, with a monocle in one eye and a smirk on his face.

"Captain Shiner, what are you doing here?" Mumm-ra said, rounding on the newcomer.

“How soon you forget that if not for my locating the Thunderians, you yourself would not be here fighting over them.” The smirk on the man's face broadened into a knowing grin. "Relax, Mumm-ra, I bring good news. I thought you might be interested in this."

The hand he brought from behind his back held a short sword, which had a large jewel embedded in its hilt that was reminiscent of the slit pupil of a cat’s eye.

"The Sword of Omens?" Grune said. "How did you get that?"

"I took it from the Lord of the Thundercats after I had had my crew teleport them from the wreck of their ship," Shiner said. "He and several of his friends are now my 'guests' aboard the Vertis."

Mumm-ra broke into a hearty laugh. "Then we have not been robbed of our revenge, Grune. Captain Shiner, you will teleport the Thundercats down here to us immediately."

"That will be a pleasure, after we discuss the small matter of payment."

"Payment?" Mumm-ra's eyes narrowed. "I have promised you riches. That should be payment enough."

"Ah, yes, that was to cover our original agreement for a search and locate mission. That did not include use of the teleport." He pulled a face, feigning an apologetic manner. "The price of fuel these days is such that I am forced to renegotiate, Mumm-ra."

"What is this?" Grune demanded. He had an itch to cave the side of this haughty stranger’s head in with his club. "Hand over those Thundercats or you'll not live to regret it."

Shiner's manner abruptly changed. "It would be unwise to threaten me. For a start, I doubt you could react before I am teleported back to my ship. And if you were to carry out an attack on my person, my crew is ordered to destroy those areas of Third Earth most necessary to your continued existence. Your dwellings, for example."

"You wouldn't dare," Mumm-ra growled. "You snivelling wretch!"

"All I ask is fair payment," Shiner said, as though it was the most reasonable request in the world, "and then the Thundercats are yours to deal with as you see fit."

Mumm-ra seemed to hesitate.

"Give the man what he wants," said Grune, deciding it was better to appease this unknown man and get on with what he came there to do. Material things meant nothing to Grune. Not like getting revenge on Jaga did. "Any price is worth the pleasure of having the Thundercats in our hands."

"And if I refuse to pay, what then?"

The question took Shiner aback, as though he had never given that possibility much thought. "Then I must sell them to the highest bidder. But I had imagined that you--"

Mumm-ra waved him into silence. "Yes, of course I will pay a hundred times over my original offer. You will have your reward, Captain Shiner. Despite your insolence, you have done well."

He gave a slight bow at the unexpected praise. "I aim to please."

"And so you do. Hand them over."

"I was thinking that maybe an advance on your promise might be in order first."

A slow smile crept across Mumm-ra's lips. "Did you? You are not a man to take things on trust?" He gave a small laugh. "Neither am I, Captain Shiner. Just as you do not trust me, I also have my doubts. But we have made a deal. You will have your money once I have a show of good faith from you."

"Oh?"

"That sword for example."

Shiner eyed him with the wary stare of someone who knew his advantage was rapidly slipping away. "Very well, Mumm-ra. I suppose I must trust you."

He held out the Sword of Omens and Mumm-ra took it from him. Turning it over in his hand to inspect the weapon, he studied it with as much reverence as if it had been a sacred relic. The twinkle in the mummy’s dead red eyes showed Grune that his earlier nonchalance regarding the sword belied his real feelings. Even if Mumm-Ra couldn’t use the sword’s power, having won it was the culmination of a dream come true. Having it in hand was a tangible status symbol for him to lord over all who might question his might and was much better than the ‘fish story’ of telling how he’d disposed of it in a bubbling pool of lava. In a way, Grune mused they had much in common.

Seeing his rapture, Shiner delicately cleared his throat.

"Uh, Mumm-ra, we had a deal?"

His words went unheard as Mumm-ra gave voice to his own thoughts. "Long have I dreamt of having the Sword in my power. Now it is mine. Mine!"

The last word came out as a shout that reverberated the length of the canyon. What little colour there was drained from Shiner's face as he watched Mumm-ra lift into the air with the Sword of Omens held in triumph over his head.

"Keep Lion-O and his accursed friends, Shiner," he called down. "I have what I want!"

With his tattered cloak spread behind him like the ragged wings of a great bird, Mumm-ra flew up into a bank of mottled clouds and vanished from sight. Cursing his name long after he knew the sorcerer could no longer hear him, Grune hurled insults at the empty sky before turning his attention on Shiner. The mercenary had been so caught up in watching Mumm-Ra’s escape, it was easy for Grune to close in on him.

The absurd monocle popped from his eye socket when the raised club came to rest inches from his nose.

"I want them, Shiner," Grune growled. "I want them here in two seconds or you'll be dead in one. Do you understand me?"

"Quite clearly. And my fee?"

Grune smiled. The man had nerve, more than he would have expected from a hired hand. "How about I give you your life? That sound fair to you?"

Shiner gulped. "Very. I'll have them sent down immediately."

***************

The return of consciousness hurt.

Not because of the weariness that tugged at his body and made every movement an effort, but because of the pain that would radiate out from an epicentre somewhere in his lower back every now and then. It was always preceded by a voice, telling him to wake up in the coarsest of tones, then a pause before the thud and more pain.

He supposed he should investigate the cause, but he hurt too much to care. Perhaps if he lay here long enough, both would go away.

They did not.

"I said, wake up, Lion-O!"

First the voice, then the pause and he caught himself waiting for the blow. It hit him roughly in the area of his kidneys and he could not prevent the low groan that escaped his lips and betrayed his wakefulness.

"Ah, so you are alive," came the voice. "I was wondering."

"Were you?" Lion-O said, surprising himself at the weakness in his own tones, barely audible above a distant roar like the ebb and flow of an ocean. Forcing his muscles to work brought them under his control enough to enable him to sit up and face his tormentor. He was not disappointed in his guess about who that might be. "I thought you wanted us dead, Grune."

From his position on the floor, Grune seemed even taller than usual. He was not so distant, however, that Lion-O could fail to see the grin on his face, lop-sided behind his single remaining fang.

"So I do, Lord of the Thundercats, but by my hand, not that of a kindly fate."

From high above, a hand descended towards him. Lion-O tried to dodge it, but weakness betrayed him and made his movements slow and clumsy. Grune grabbed him by the mane and hurled him through the air. Lion-O thought he might have flown forever but for the unyielding wall that smashed into his shoulders and contemptuously sent him sliding down its uneven surface.

By the time his head had stopped spinning, he was aware enough to know that his surroundings had definitely changed for the better. The last he remembered was being in the Feliner, watching the molten Thundrainium block out the light as it closed in on them and the burning pain of lava splashing on his skin where it seeped into the ship. Glancing down at his arm, he saw the raw flesh where it had touched him and knew that that part of his memory had been real. After that, it was a blank.

Somehow, he had ended up in a cavern whose walls were the colour of dried blood, lit by flaming torches held in sconces. He still felt weak, but not to the same degree as when he had been in close proximity to the Thundrainium. The lethargy dogging his every movement told him it was somewhere in the vicinity, enough to slow him down, but not much more than that. It helped to know his limitations, including a noted lack of the Sword of Omens, especially now that Grune was striding purposefully over to him, a look of absolute hatred on his face.

His club came up and smashed into the wall inches from where Lion-O had been sitting. Had Lion-O not slithered to one side, he shuddered to think of the damage that club would have done to his body.

Grune snarled with annoyance at missing his target and came after him again, club swinging recklessly. Driven by rage, his aim was wild and Lion-O was able to dodge out of his way until he came up against another solid wall and found he had nowhere left to go.

Seeing his predicament, Grune relaxed enough to laugh. "Look at you, Lion-O, crawling on the floor like a newborn kitten. And you call yourself the Lord of the Thundercats? A pitiful lord at that. What would Jaga think of you now?"

His efforts had robbed him of breath and through gasps he tried to get out an answer. "I know what he thinks of you, Grune. You're a traitor to Thundera and Thundercats and everything for which the Code of Thundera stands."

The laughter stopped. "A traitor, am I?" Grune mused on this accusation for a minute, his expression growing serious. "Perhaps that is an easy label to give to anyone who dares question the authority of the Code and those who claim to uphold it."

"Or perhaps it's the truth. I know why Jaga exiled you from Thundera."

The mere mention of his name made Grune seethe. "He was the traitor. He betrayed me!" Inner flame blazed in his eyes. "I trusted him and he slithered into my bed when my back was turned. He stole my love! He stole my life! Ask your friend, Panthro. He was there when I got railroaded by so-called Code honouring ThunderCats." The club came up and Lion-O instinctively raised an arm to protect himself. When nothing happened, he looked up to see that an uneasy calm had come over Grune. He was breathing hard and a new expression had settled over his face. Not one of anger and fury, but one laced with cruelty. "He took everything from me," he murmured. "Now I will destroy everything he loved."

He grabbed Lion-O by the mane and hauled him from the chamber into a room with a rough-hewn door that scraped the skin from Lion-O’s leg. No sooner had he been dumped on the floor than Grune retreated to slam the door shut, locking them both in the room. Lion-O forced himself to sit up and found to his horror that they were not alone. In the centre of the room, their hands manacled above their heads were Panthro, Cheetara and Felina. All three were awake and very aware of what was happening. He tried to struggle towards them, only for a swipe from Grune's club to send him reeling across the room. A river of blood spurted from the wound down his face and into his eyes, leaving him blind, but not deaf to what Grune was saying.

"Look at him, your precious leader. Why do you follow this whelp, this runt, this pathetic excuse for a Thunderian?"

"He is Lord of the Thundercats," came Panthro's even voice. By the time Lion-O had cleared his vision, he saw that his expression was as deceptively calm as his voice. "He's our leader. He's proved himself time and time again."

"Lord of the Thundercats," Grune sneered, circling behind his captives. "A title that inspires such devotion for so little worth." He bent down so that his lips were close to Felina's ear. "Tell me, little one, is he worth it?"

Her lips were slightly parted and she was breathing fast. She was trying to be brave, but her fear was palpable. Grune knew it and his assault was merciless.

"Oh, I know all about you, Felina. How you came to Third Earth. How you've ended up in a marriage you didn't want to this wretch!" His vehemence was manifested as so much saliva that landed on her cheek and dribbled down her face. "He ruined your life, didn't he? Well, answer me!"

Felina shook her head and tried to squirm away from his closeness, but he was persistent in his haranguing.

"Leave her alone," said Panthro. "If you've got issues with Jaga, take it up with him."

"Would that I could," Grune retorted, "but that base coward fled the justice of this world, and hid from me when I was among the spirits besides. Your boy here had to call him out in order for me to fight him and even then, he couldn’t win on his own accord."

Grune’s attention returned to Felina. "How true the saying about the sins of the father." He ran the back of his finger down her cheek, all the while keeping his gaze on Lion-O, making sure he knew this show was for his benefit. "You should have been so much more," he said in Felina's ear, almost tenderly. "You should have been my child. If you had been, just imagine - you wouldn’t have been forced to marry boy wonder, free to live your life and read your little books in peace. You could have married someone of your choosing, felt real love. Instead, you are Jaga's spawn and you have been and will continue to pay the price for his crimes."

When Felina said nothing, Lion-O hung his head somewhat and wondered if Grune hadn’t actually hit on her true feelings. However, nobody’s feelings were going to matter in a moment, and Lion-O had to think fast.

Grune got to his feet and wandered back over to Lion-O. "And what of you, cub? What have you to say in your defence? Are you a 'good' leader?" He chuckled. "I suppose not, or you would not be cowering at my feet now."

Using the wall as a support, Lion-O clambered up to his feet to meet Grune face to face. "You talk too much, Grune," he said, trying not to sound too out of breath from the sheer effort of the manoeuvre.

"And your silence does your credit?"

"At least I know the right words to use at the right time!"

To Grune's surprise, Lion-O brought his hand up and shoved him in the chest. Grune went over backwards, giving Lion-O enough space to raise his arm and call for the Sword of Omens. He felt the surge of strength that heralded its coming, felt the sense of elation at so easily tricking Grune, felt ready to do battle with this vile traitor. And yet nothing happened. One long second slipped into another and another, and from his position on the floor, Grune started to laugh.

"Nice try, cub. If you're looking for your sword, Mumm-ra took it with him back to his Pyramid."

Barely had Lion-O time to take in this information than Grune had leapt to his feet, directing a vicious blow at his stomach. The impact knocked the air from his lungs and Lion-O found himself doubled up on the floor, gasping for breath, muscles revolting at the damage done to them by Grune's calculated punch. He’d banked on the Sword being in the vicinity, assuming Grune had disarmed him, and that it would be able to react to his call within the caves. Lion-O had been gravely mistaken on all counts.

"Call yourself a leader?" came Grune's sneering voice. "You're nothing without the Sword of Omens. At least Jaga was a worthy adversary, but you, cub, you're little better than those whining Thunderkittens."

A kick to Lion-O's already sore stomach drove his point home emphatically.

"Third Earth will be well rid of you and your wretched followers," Grune went on. "Or would it? I wonder."

There was something about his change of tone that made the hairs rise on the back of Lion-O's neck. Despite his pain, he gingerly straightened out his aching stomach and tried to catch a glimpse of Grune's face. His eyes were narrowed as if he was giving something serious consideration. The fact that his gaze was directed towards Felina only added to the growing sense of trepidation that was fast taking hold of Lion-O's soul.

"Your fight is with me, Grune," he said, struggling to rise again.

"So it is, although naturally I hate all Thundercats. They stupidly follow a code that means nothing – they’re all hypocrites. You," Grune said, stabbing his club in Lion-O's direction, "will not live to see another day, but is that enough? No, I don't think it is." A sick smile curled the corners of his mouth. "I have a deal for you, Lion-O. Let's see how good a leader you really are."

"I'll make no terms with you, Grune."

"Hear what I have to say first before you say something you may regret. I'll let two of your friends live on the condition that you name the one who is to join you on the Astral Plain."

Lion-O felt all moisture leave his mouth. What Grune was proposing was monstrous. How could he possibly make a decision like that and condemn one of his friends to certain death?

"No," he said hoarsely, "I won't do it."

"Won't?" Grune laughed. "Or can't? Come now, Lion-O, every leader faces tough decisions in his career. This is yours. You have the chance to save two of your friends. Choose!"

"Never!"

Grune brought his club to the side of Felina's neck, causing her to flinch and whimper. "Choose," he said in a low voice that only added to its hidden threat, "or all will suffer and I will make you watch them die."

It was an impossible thing to do. In a matter of hours, a simple rescue mission had seen them lurch from one disaster to another. And now there was this to deal with. It was no exaggeration to say that for the first time in his life, he felt utterly lost. True, there had been many times when their situation had seemed worse than hopeless, but it had never been like this. He had no Sword of Omens, no way out, no hope of a last minute reprieve. This was happening, here and now, unfolding before his eyes like one of the horror stories Snarf had tried to stop him reading in his younger days. That his folly had made his own life forfeit, he could accept, but not that of one of his friends. And if he had not the courage to make a choice, even that decision would be snatched away from him.

As he looked from one face to another, he couldn't believe what he was actually contemplating. Logic pointed him towards one obvious candidate and he could tell from the look of resignation in Panthro's eyes that he had reached the same conclusion. Cheetara had Tygra and a young daughter to go home to, and Felina carried Lion-O’s own unborn offspring. They were also younger than Panthro, and sexist as it may seem, women. Assigning one of them to such a fate went against every protective instinct in Lion-O, and likely within Panthro as well. Despite the hardened resolve in Cheetara’s expression, he couldn’t help but feel as he did.

Lion-O even thought he caught an almost imperceptible nod of Panthro’s head, urging him to make the right choice. Logical perhaps, but not inevitable, not while he had the intelligence and cunning to stop Grune before he could carry out his threat.

"Well?" Grune prompted. "I'm waiting, Lion-O, and my patience is wearing thin."

Lion-O's brain went into overdrive. There had to be another way. And like the sun emerging from behind a cloud, the light of realisation came to him. He had to turn the tables on Grune and get the advantage in this battle of wits. It was so obvious he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before.

"Then you choose, Grune," he said boldly, "only make sure it's the right choice. Mumm-ra will be very disappointed if you get it wrong."

"What?" Grune's brow furrowed. "What did you say, cub?"

"I never had you down as Mumm-ra's lackey, but times change."

It was an insult too far and it had the desired effect. With a terrifying howl, Grune charged from behind the other Thundercats and hurled himself at Lion-O. The spike of the club came flying down towards his head, but Lion-O had anticipated it and arrested its downward arc inches from his head. Grune roared in outrage and applied all his weight to the club. For a few brief seconds, Lion-O was sure he could hold his own, but then came a feeling of such weakness that sweat broke from his forehead as he called upon all his strength to keep Grune at arm's length. Slowly, the spike lowered towards him, until he was brought down to his knees and the glimmering tip was only a fraction away from his left eye. Just when he thought it would pierce him, Grune relaxed his grip, only to take a firmer hold and snatch the head of the club from Lion-O's weary hands. Grune's revenge came as a blow to the side of his head that left him seeing stars. He was only dimly aware of being dragged over to the wall and his hands being hoisted above his head to be fastened into manacles.

"Nice try," said Grune, panting from the exertion. "But you'd obviously forgotten that my club is forged from raw Thundrainium. Trying to take it from me was foolishness indeed. And stupidity in a leader can be very costly, as your friends are about to find out."

The thin, wavering voice that issued from his lips was one that Lion-O did not recognise. It was the voice of failure, of acknowledged defeat, a vain plea not to do this. It sickened him to hear it, even worse to know that he had failed miserably. His friends would die because of his failure to do what was demanded of a leader, to be the one to make unpleasant choices. The thought of living with that on his conscience was only slightly lessened by the knowledge that Grune would not long permit him to outlive the others. Worse was the pain of the protective urge that burnt as brightly now as it had ever done for Felina and their unborn child. He could do nothing for her now and sought her understanding. She would not meet his eyes, but kept her gaze firmly fixed on the floor. It could mean only one thing, that if she did not hate him before then surely she must now.

"Grune, no!" he called weakly. "Do what you like with me, but let my friends go!"

Grune ignored him and took up position opposite his three captives. "Who is to be?" he said, tapping his bloodied club in one of his hands. "Brave, bold Panthro? My lady Felina?" His gaze wandered to the person in the centre of the group and a smile came to his lips. "No, I think you, Cheetara, would be a much better candidate. What do you say to that?"

Cheetara sighed with the sort of wearisome vexation usually reserved for a double shift of guard duty. "Why does that come as no surprise?"

"To one blessed with a sixth sense, I suppose it should not. Any last words?"

She considered for a moment. "Yes. Get on with it."

Grune seemed mildly taken aback at her flippancy. "What? No protestations of your eternal devotion to the Code of Thundera? No begging to be spared for the sake of your lover and child? No condemnation of your leader?"

Cheetara fixed him with an unwavering stare. "This isn't Lion-O's fault. You engineered this situation, Grune, and what’s more, you made sure he was weak and disarmed. Fair as always, I see. And then you gave him an impossible choice, which I have no doubt you had no intention of honouring. You were always going to kill us because you hate us all."

He grunted in acknowledgement of her assumption. "Perhaps I have underestimated you, fast one. You have uncommon intelligence."

She shrugged. "Know your enemy."

"That is true enough. It is a shame that your leader has condemned you to share in his fate."

"I'm sure I'll get over it."

Grune hesitated, thrown by this strange attitude. Lion-O too found himself questioning Cheetara's sanity. What was she thinking, urging Grune on like that? Only when she glanced over at him and he saw her wink did he realise that she knew exactly what she was doing. He stopped tugging at his chains and watched in fascinated horror as Grune raised his club high above his head. It came hurtling down, too fast for him to arrest its flight as Cheetara, her hands suddenly free, sped away from him in the blink of an eye, as only she could do. The club hit solid rock and the shock wave made his teeth rattle. With its spike buried in the ground, Grune's attention was fixed on pulling his weapon free as Panthro leapt to his feet and slammed his doubled fist down on the back of his neck. Grune collapsed senseless to the ground and failed to move even after Panthro jabbed him in the ribs with his toe.

"About time he shut up," Panthro remarked. "Nice move, by the way."

Cheetara smiled broadly. "He did say that he'd underestimated me."

"In more ways than one."

"You're… free," Lion-O said breathlessly. "But how?"

She held up a thin sliver of metal about an inch long. "A handy splinter I got from the Feliner's cabin. It hurt like anything to pull it out, but it came in useful."

"You picked the lock?"

She nodded. "When Grune went to get you. It only took a few seconds."

True to her word, Panthro and Felina were free equally quickly and then she came over to Lion-O to work her magic on his chains.

"Thanks," he said when he was free. "You still took a risk though. What if he hadn't come after you first?"

"As I said, know your enemy. Grune would have done well to remember that."

"Lucky for us he didn't," said Panthro, massaging his wrists. "Shall we get out of here before sleeping beauty wakes up?"

"We still have to find our countrymen," Felina reminded him.

"And then find a way to escape from Firerock Mountain before the Thundrainium gets us."

"Is that where we are?" Lion-O said, looking around at the featureless walls. "I know I felt weak when Grune's club was near me, but I don't feel it now."

"Then we're probably in the caves under the mountain," said Panthro. "Just like Tygra said, the rocks are shielding us from the effects of the Thundrainium."

"Then there's a good chance our missing countrymen are here as well. Let's spread out and see if we can find them."

Panthro and Cheetara went on their way, leaving Lion-O to usher Felina from the chamber and lock the door on the unconscious Grune. She had already started to wander away when Lion-O called her back.

"Felina, what happened back there, are you all right?"

Her face was smeared with dirt and clean lines cut in the grime told him of her tears. It had been an ordeal for all of them, but especially he guessed for Felina, given what he knew of her family's connections with Grune.

She nodded without any enthusiasm. "Yes, Lion-O, I'm fine. And you?"

She lifted her eyes and her gaze drifted past his to settle on the drying blood that had matted his mane and caked itself to his forehead and cheek. She reached for the wound and he caught her hand and held onto it.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know what I should have said… but I couldn't."

A faint smile lifted some of the strain from her features. "Shush. I understand."

"I don't. Felina, can you forgive me for placing you and our baby in such danger?"

Despite her assurances, he felt that her smile was just a little too forced to be true. It was easy to say she had forgiven him, but he wondered what lay behind her mask. If their relationship had been strained before, now things between them would be even more awkward. Suddenly he knew what it was to be the one in the wrong. Not so long ago, Felina had been seeking forgiveness from him and he cringed to think now how he had behaved. If she felt then half as bad as he did now, he could only imagine what he had put her through for a simple slip of the tongue that paled into comparison beside what he had done.

Any further embarrassment was spared by a call from Panthro down one of the corridors to Lion-O's left. With Felina at his side, he dutifully set off in its direction, his progress slightly impeded by the stiffness of his movements courtesy of the beating he’d taken. Soon enough he found Panthro standing beside a hefty wooden door. As Lion-O approached, a jerk of the panther's thumb at the room gave him a good idea as to the reason for the summons.

"They're in here," explained Panthro. "I don't suppose Grune had any keys on him?"