Chapter 29 of Signal in the Sky
In A Magic World
By Purrsia Kat & Spaced Angel
The last of the winter snows were long gone and spring was claiming
Third Earth once more. Green buds were burgeoning on bare branches and the
meadows had become a sea of white and yellow as flowers flourished under the growing
heat of the sun. The return of life showed itself in the fawns that timidly
followed their mothers on the edges of the forest and the brightly coloured
butterflies that flitted from petal to petal. Light breezes lifted their slight
weight into the air and spiralled them upwards to rest on a rough window ledge
as they caught their breath. A second later, Slithe’s hand smashed down on them
and their brief existence came to an end.
Such was life, Slithe thought, examining the blue-red mess and tangle of
broken legs that had been plastered to his palm. So fragile and so easily
crushed, and no creature, however superior they thought themselves, could
escape that reality. A grim smile came to his features as he reflected that had
Ratar-O learned that lesson a little sooner, he would not be lying out in the
cold earth right now.
Even he had had to admit to a certain amount of shock when they had
discovered the bodies of Ratar-O and his aide, Ratagon. A good deal of nonsense
had been bandied about concerning their deaths. The double suicide theory that
the others championed had seemed unlikely to Slithe. As much as he detested the
rat, he had always grudgingly admired his survival instincts. Killing himself
because his family’s position at the top of the heap had been toppled seemed
out of character and it took Vultureman to prove it. Ever the logical one, the
vulture had confidently announced that Ratagon shot Ratar-O and then himself.
When pressed for evidence, Vultureman had been reticent, although if Slithe had
to guess, he would have said that the vulture had been listening outside the
door.
Whatever the truth, master and aide were buried together, since the
cretins he had ordered to dig the graves had been too lazy to make two holes.
Now, the barren earth that had become their home for eternity was showing life
of its own. Beyond the swampy land surrounding the Castle, sparse patches of
grass were starting to cover the mound, bringing with them meadow flowers.
There had to be a certain irony in that, not that Ratar-O would have
appreciated it. For someone who’d had little time for such trivialities as
flora when alive, at least now he had forever to appreciate them. Perhaps it
was some sort of divine judgement upon him. The flowers would stay, despite Jackalman’s
whining that it didn’t seem right. After all, Slithe had decided, who was he to
meddle with the wishes of a higher power? They had enough problems without
incurring the wrath of anyone else.
At least one set of problems had come to a satisfactory conclusion. With
the death of Ratilla and Plun-darr in the grip of civil war over who next
should take the crown, the fate of a few failed Mutants on Third Earth was no
longer of any interest. Slithe hoped not even the lure of the Sword of Omens
would draw them back. Not that Slithe took any responsibility for his perceived
lack of success in his original command. He would have liked to see anyone take
on the Thundercats and that sword of theirs and come out on top. For all
Ratar-O’s boasting about his superior intellect, he too had failed. Third Earth
seemed to have that effect on people. It bestowed its favours only on the
chosen few, a category which seemed firmly closed to any of Mutantkind.
Or did it, he had to wonder. It seemed to have a knack of protecting its
own, even those it had adopted. Not too long ago, he had faced the prospect of
being hauled back to Plun-darr to face charges of gross incompetence. He’d had
no doubt about the outcome, and yet the tables turned. Ratar-O was dead and he
was alive. If ever the question of their failure did again come to the fore,
Ratar-O had provided him with the best defence in the world. How could he, a
lowly commander, be expected to triumph against better armed forces in
difficult conditions when the grandson of the then king had also failed? At
least Ratar-O had proved himself useful for something, if not in the way he’d
expected.
Perhaps someone up there did like him, he thought, casting a glance
skywards as he licked the butterfly mulch from his palm. Slithe also considered
it fortunate that Grune once again made himself scarce around Castle Plundarr
after he again had failed miserably to bring Lion-O down. It made for one less
cook in the kitchen, a phrase that made Slithe wince as soon as the thought crossed
his mind. He’d never go back to being nothing, not like he’d been when he was
spooning slop to the mindless morons in the Plundarrian armies, and neither
Ratar-O nor Grune the Destroyer were going to change that.
It was about time his luck changed, he’d decided, and if at the expense
of the Thundercats, then so much the better. After all, wasn’t that cub
expected some time soon? If so, he’d have to think about how to exploit
Lion-O’s latest weakness. Just how much was that child’s life worth to him, he
wondered. Perhaps, the price of the Sword of Omens? Children and wives could be
great leverage, but then, if Lion-O was as foolishly loyal as his comrade
Panthro had been, he might just choose the Sword over his family. There was
only one way to find out.
With that thought in mind, he turned from the window just in time to see
Vultureman entering the room.
The vulture regarded him critically in his narrow eyed manner. “You look
happy, Slithe,” he said, turning the remark into a sneer. “Something you’d like
to share with the rest of us?”
“Not with you,” he growled in reply.
“Then what’s so funny or are you becoming half-witted in your old age?”
The annoyance rang clear in Vultureman’s voice and Slithe chuckled at the
effect he had upon him. “When I’ve made up my mind, you’ll be the first to
know,” he said as he waddled past him. “Until then, you’d be wise to keep out
of my way, bird brain. Things are going to be changing around here, yes.”
“I can hardly wait,” came the lacklustre reply.
Normally this lack of faith would have sent him into an apoplexy, but
today Slithe ignored it. Change was in the wind and he was sure it was blowing
his way. He could afford to tolerate that insolent cretin a little longer. When
he returned to Castle Plun-darr bearing the Sword of Omens in triumph, then
they would see who was in charge around here. Those who didn’t like it would
have to go. He for one would not be standing in their way.
***************
Velouria giggled and dabbed her tiny hand to her mouth.
“You’re thirsty?” Cheetara said, picking the child up and imitating the
action. Velouria copied her and smiled with delight when a bottle came her way.
She latched onto it and drank deeply, dimples showing in her cheeks as she
sucked the fluid into her mouth.
Cheetara watched her as she enjoyed her liquid lunch, pleased that they
were making some headway in the difficult business of communication. Velouria
was almost one and already showing a keen intelligence that Cheetara liked to
think she got as much from her as her brainy father. It had been Tygra’s idea
to try a form of sign language with her, mostly, she guessed, as a way of
relieving some of his guilt for his perceived failure to fashion a functioning
hearing aid for her.
Since then, Velouria had quickly learned that a simple hand signal could
get her what she wanted far quicker than all the crying in the world. Thirst
and hunger had been the first on her list, followed by tiredness and cuddles
and toys. All those were easy enough to understand, but Cheetara had been
initially puzzled when Velouria had put her hands to the sides of her head and
waggled her fingers. Only when Snarf entered the room and she wailed with
excitement did it become clearer. She wondered if Snarf entirely appreciated
the gesture and was happy to know that he himself had taught it to her.
Lost in her contemplation of her daughter, she almost jumped when a hand
came to rest on her shoulder.
“Don’t do that,” she chided.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” said Tygra. “She’s a thirsty
girl.”
“Where have you been? I thought you were having Velouria this
afternoon.”
He sighed and rubbed his eyes, making them redder than they had been a moment
ago. “Sorry, Cheetara, I was busy. I meant to, but I didn’t have the time.”
Time seemed to be a preciously short commodity lately. The redesign and
subsequent building of the Feliner had kept him away for too many nights. Her
reasoning that the Rat Star had not been seen since that horrible day at
For now, she smiled and leaned across to kiss him. “I forgive you,” she
said. “We missed you though. We’ve been having lots of fun this afternoon.”
“You have?” He sprawled on the bed behind her and traced a finger down
the line of her spine, making her shiver. “Tell me all about it.”
“We had a bath and made bubble monsters.”
“You did? That does sound like fun.”
Cheetara removed the bottle from Velouria’s mouth and wiped away the
dribbles of milk that escaped from the corners of her lips. “And then we looked
at the pictures in one of daddy’s books, didn’t we?”
“Oh?” said Tygra. “Which one?”
“’Legends of the Ancients’, I think it was,” she said, idly glancing
across the room to the desk where the heavy tome lay. “I had no idea what it
was about, but the pictures were pretty good.”
Tygra grunted. “Most of it is death and destruction.”
“Not suitable reading material for Velouria then?”
“No, not for her or you.” He grinned and sat up, snaking his arm around
her waist. “Cheetara, I know I’ve been distant lately, but I’m hoping that will
change very soon.”
She waited for him to explain.
“Felina and I have been going over the information she and Lion-O
gleaned about Mumm-ra’s past from that trip they took back in time. We think we
may have found something that could potentially destroy his power.”
Cheetara turned to face him. “You have? What?”
He paused. “It’s risky.”
“How so?”
He spent a long time straightening out the rumpled sheet on which he lay
before replying. “It would involve going to Mumm-ra’s pyramid.”
“Not you alone?”
“Oh, no, quite a few of us.” He bit his lip. “Although that would
probably include me, yes.”
“And me?”
He looked up. “Probably.”
She knew now why he had been so hesitant to tell her. Going to Mumm-ra’s
pyramid was not conducive to good health and long lives. Venturing into the
heart of evil always carried risks, even more so when they were considering
launching some sort of attack on him.
In the old days, she would not have given it a second thought, but
Velouria’s birth had changed all that. She had to admit to a feeling of anxiety
whenever they were parted for too long. Not that she doubted Snarf’s ability to
look after her daughter, but the nagging suspicion always plagued her that
Velouria would be better in her care. It was all part of the burden of
parenthood, she knew, and sometimes she wished for the less complicated, if
perhaps less fulfilling life, she had before she became a mother. It was not a
question of resentment, more of loss, one that she happily accepted for all its
doubts and worries. It was also one she despaired of Lion-O ever coming to
terms with in its entirety.
She was sure he knew his responsibilities, but he had yet to shed that
desire for recklessness that marked his early years on Third Earth. He was as
likely now as in the past to hurl himself into a volcano if he thought it would
solve the problem of the flaw in the Sword of Omens. This mission was yet
another instance of his state of mind. For someone who was weeks away from
becoming a father to twins, effectively trying to beard Mumm-ra in his den
smacked of foolhardiness in the extreme. Or maybe it was the next generation he
was thinking of, looking at it as having faith they now have the strength to
pull this off in the hopes that the children in the Lair know at least some
peace in their early years. Either way, Cheetara’s new outlook on life had her
torn more than ever between the two philosophies. She could almost hear Jaga’s
old, sage voice telling her ‘anything worth doing won’t be easy’. And he was
right, as usual.
“If it gets Mumm-ra off our backs for a while, then it has to be worth
it,” Tygra said when she voiced her concerns.
“Is it? Or is just…” She hesitated, biting back her word of choice. “Is
it stupidity?” Her initial concerns were winning out.
“That isn’t what you were going to say.”
She sometimes wondered how he knew her so well and at times was glad he
did. At other times, he could just be annoying.
“No, it was,” she said.
Tygra smiled. “You think this is reckless, don’t you?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. We have too much at stake to throw our
lives away on a remote possibility, Tygra.”
“It’s not remote.”
“You know what I mean. I don’t like to say this, but I sometimes wonder
if Lion-O will ever grow up.”
His eyebrows raised a fraction. “You think Lion-O’s immature?” He smiled.
“Not that immature, Cheetara. He’s come a long way since we first landed here,
and part of the reason is because we’ve shown faith in him. He is also a
married man.”
“Barely.”
“Actually, I thought Lion-O and Felina had been getting along a lot
better lately.”
“I suspect it’s for appearances only.”
Tygra considered. “No, I think it’s genuine. Felina seems less
distracted and much more settled lately.”
She was prepared to take his word for that. The pair spent a good deal
of time together in the pursuit of knowledge, a fact which had made her mildly
jealous if only for the fact that it kept him from her side at night.
“She told you that?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, we never discuss such things, although we do
sometimes talk generally about her problems.”
The merest nudge of envy made her flinch. “Problems?”
“She’s concerned about the birth. She’s adamant she wants the Warrior
Maidens to assist with the delivery.”
For her part, Cheetara could wholly understand Felina’s wishes. Panthro might
well talk of tradition and what he thought was best, but he was hardly
qualified to advise on the intricacies of birth. As she knew all too well,
things could and did go wrong. She was eternally grateful that Willa had been
there the day of Velouria’s birth to save both their lives.
“I think she’s right,” she said. “Only a mother knows what’s best for
her.”
“I agree, but no one else does.”
Cheetara sighed. “And so Felina will have to suffer because the majority
must prevail.”
She felt Tygra’s gaze upon her and soon after followed the expected
question. “Why do I get the impression that was not just about her birthing
plans?”
“You’re right. I can’t help feeling that we failed them, Tygra. We all
had such hopes for them and it’s failed, hasn’t it? You must have noticed how
things have changed between them.”
He leant his head against her shoulder and nodded. “Yes. They’re friends
now, more than lovers.”
“And we pushed them into it.” She sighed again. “Don’t you feel
responsible? I do. Here we are, their elders, telling them we know what’s best
and tradition is a fine thing and now, with our pushing and shoving, their
lives as husband and wife is a façade.”
“There’s nothing we can do about it now.”
“Well, perhaps we should.” She handed him Velouria and got up. “Perhaps
now is the time to act before something bad happens.”
“Like what?” he asked, shifting Velouria’s weight into a more
comfortable position in his arms. “I don’t think a divorce would help.”
When he finally looked over at her, she found she did not have an answer
for him. It was hard to put what she felt into words. Just lately the strangest
feeling had been nagging at her whenever she was with the pair, as though
something about their present relationship boded ill for the future. It made no
sense – she should be happy as anyone that they were at least getting along on
some level - and she had tried to dismiss it as irrational, but still it
persisted.
She scrubbed her hair away from her face and released a deep breath. “Oh,
I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.”
Tygra got up and joined her by the window. “Let’s see how things are
after Felina’s had the twins. A baby changes everything, you know that.”
She smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair from Velouria’s cheek. The
child cooed and waved a chubby fist in her direction. He was right, of course.
She remembered long nights spent in discussion before Velouria’s birth about
how they would cope. It had brought them together, but it had been a strain,
too. Perhaps that was what she was seeing between the pair.
“I know,” she said. “Let’s hope for their sake it is for the better.”
“How could it be otherwise? A baby is always a blessing. Even,” he said,
tickling Velouria under the chin, “if they are extremely naughty, like you, my
little one.”
Velouria kicked her legs and a broad grin came her face.
“She’s happy,” Cheetara said, though she knew what Tygra was referring
to. Velouria had discovered the joys of self-mobility in the form of crawling
and sometimes even cruising along upright with the aid of whatever furniture of
fixtures were handy. And was she an ever-curious child. There was nothing she
wouldn’t get into and the speed with which Velouria could get herself in a
precarious, potentially dangerous position put Cheetara’s own super speed to
shame. It was all normal behavior, and Tygra was only joking, but Cheetara knew
in some ways it was more exhausting raising Velouria now than when she kept
them up all night.
“Of course she is,” Tygra said, “and so must you be.” He leaned across
and kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m sure things will work out just
fine.”
Cheetara watched him take Velouria back to her crib and wished that she
could share his confidence. The trouble was that nagging concern refused to go
away.
***************
“So this Mefeset guy,” Bengali was saying, “he’s Mumm-ra, right?”
As trying situations went, Lion-O had to count this up amongst his top
ten. With three of them crammed in the front seat of the Thundertank, things
were cosy at best. With most of the Thundercats involved on this mission, they
were already tight for space. The Thunderkittens had been only too glad to take
a back seat and annoy their elders when Bengali had said he would suffer from
travel sickness if he had to sit in the rear. They had done their best to
accommodate him up front, but it was making for an uncomfortable journey.
“But if he’s the same person, why did he change his name?” Bengali went
on. A slight pause ensued while he popped a small brown spherical nut into his
mouth from a bag he had with him and chewed it thoughtfully. “Doesn’t make
sense.”
“What doesn’t?” Lion-O said with a sigh.
“Why he changed his name. What’s the point?”
“It’s to indicate his change of persona,” Panthro explained, “from
withered corpse to…” He shrugged. “To a big headache for us.”
“Yeah, I suppose so. And we’re going to see Mumm-ra or Mefeset?”
“Hopefully, neither,” came Cheetara’s voice from the rear cabin.
Lion-O was aware of her objections, but was choosing to ignore them. He
knew that what he was doing was right. If they were to have any peace and any
life at all on Third Earth, a way had to be found to contain Mumm-ra’s growing
powers, if flat-out vanquishing him was impossible. He had hoped to have more
currency from exploiting Mumm-ra’s vulnerability of exposure to his own
reflection, but the cunning old sorcerer had quickly learnt from that
experience. With the loss of one avenue of defence, Lion-O had rapidly come to
two conclusions. One was a concern about just how powerful Mumm-ra was,
especially now that he’d somehow gained a powerful sword of his own, and the
other was to wonder what his other weaknesses might be. If he could be reduced
to a whimpering wreck just by the sight of his own reflection, Lion-O had had
to wonder what else might adversely affect him.
The only thing he knew for certain about Mumm-ra was what he had learnt
during the spell he spent back in time with Felina when they had discovered his
natural and equally unnatural origins. They had witnessed the demise and
transformation of Pharoah Mefeset into the sinister force for evil they knew
all too well as Mumm-ra. From those memories had come a faint glimmer of hope
and one that this mission was about to confirm one way or another.
“So, let me get this straight,” Bengali said. “We’re not going to see
him?”
“This isn’t a social call,” Lion-O said irritably. “If we do see him, he
isn’t going to be pleased to see us.”
“So, why are we going?”
Feeling a detectable rise of annoyance within his chest, Lion-O chose
not to answer that one. Everyone had been at the Council Meeting when he had
explained the mission. He did not feel inclined to repeat himself, even for the
new recruits who understandably had dealt little with the menace known as
Mumm-Ra.
“It’s like this,” said Panthro, taking up the gauntlet. “Lion-O and
Felina think that those big animal head statues Mumm-ra has in his pyramid are
somehow connected to his powers. Destroy those and old Mumm-ra will be as weak
as a kitten. At least, that’s the theory. Right, Lion-O?”
He managed a grudging grunt. “We saw them grow from the canopic jars
that held Mumm-ra’s organs. They are quite literally a part of him.”
“When you say his organs,” Bengali said cautiously, “you don’t mean like
his…” He made a vague gesture in the area of his stomach. “His internal
organs?”
“Yeah, all the mushy, stinky bits,” said WilyKit enthusiastically, sticking
her head up close to the open hatch that separated the front and rear
compartments. “They pulled ‘em out through his nose!”
“They did not,” said her brother.
“They did. They used a hook to pull his brains out. Felina said so!”
“Wrong!” said WilyKat. “A brain is too large to get through your nose.”
“They take it out in pieces, silly,” she said with a sigh and a roll of
her eyes.
“However they did it,” said Panthro, “those organs ended up in those
jars Lion-O saw and they became the statues we see today.”
“No wonder he’s got problems,” Bengali said, as another nut went into
his mouth. “He’s been on his own too long. He’s got no body.”
The Thunderkittens caught the joke and they laughed uproariously.
Squashed up against the sidewall of the Thundertank, however, Lion-O was in a
less generous mood.
“This is a serious mission, Bengali, and I’d appreciate more
professionalism from you.”
“Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Well, don’t. And stop eating. This is no time for food.”
“Sorry,” he said again, “I was hungry.”
“Hungry? You’ve always got food in your hand.”
“He’s a growing boy,” said Panthro with a grin.
“I was a growing boy too,” Lion-O reminded him. “No one ever cut me any
slack.”
“We didn’t have to. You were too well behaved.”
“At least I never ate in the Thundertank.”
What could have lapsed into an awkward silence was broken when Bengali
proffered the bag under his nose. “You want one?” he asked.
The bag gaped open, a tempting array of bite-sized snacks showing
within, and Lion-O had to fight the urge to give into temptation. Instead, he
turned his mind to the other matter that had been bothering him.
“What are you going to do about the Sword of Omens?"
Bengali paused in his chewing and quickly swallowed the masticated contents
of his mouth. "I'm working on it. A weapon like that, well, you have to
approach it with respect. You can't just rush in and throw it on the fire and
hope for the best."
That at least was a sentiment Lion-O could agree with. "How serious
is it, this flaw?"
"It's minor."
"Could the blade break? It did once."
"Really?" Bengali's eyes were wide with curiosity. "Who
re-forged it?"
Panthro broke into a hearty chuckle. "You wouldn't believe us if we
told you. Let's just say he was someone we met in a volcano."
"Did you say 'in a volcano'?"
Panthro nodded.
"Sorry I asked. Whoever he was, he did a pretty good job."
"But it's not perfect," said Lion-O.
Bengali shrugged. "What is? Certainly I think I can make a better
job of it."
"Until then, it's still safe to use the Sword?"
"I don't see why not. According to you, the power derives from the
Eye of Thundera. Viewed like that, the Sword of Omens is just an elaborate
setting for the Eye."
His remark gave Lion-O pause for thought. As descriptions went, it was
accurate. The Eye of Thundera he had seen given to his ancestor, Leonus the
Wanderer, had been devoid of any trappings, being little more than a strange
ruby gem to those to whom it had been given. If that second excursion into the
past had taught him anything, it was that the histories of Thundera and Third
Earth had long been intertwined. He still recalled his feelings of amazement
when he had learnt that the Eye had been stolen from Mumm-ra's treasure room.
He was left with many questions, first and foremost about how it got there.
Certainly, his version of events had differed considerably with the written
history Felina championed.
In fact, she had been quite annoyed when he corrected her telling of the
tale of how the Eye of Thundera came to be given to Leonus. According to her
precious books, it had been a divine gift from the gods, bestowed upon the
worldly race of feline warriors in their quest for truth, honour, justice and
loyalty. When he had described what had taken place during his excursion into
the Book of Omens and found himself back at the dawn of their species, she had
seemed genuinely surprised and had started to besiege him with the same
questions he had pondered and had yet to come to any sort of satisfactory conclusion.
If he had expected her to provide him with the answers he sought, he was
sorely mistaken. Challenging her over this omission in the written legends, she
had gone on the defensive and hostilities had again resumed. They had not
lasted long however; Felina seemed weary of their battles and they had soon
fallen back into the familiar pattern of easy toleration. They still shared a
bed, out of necessity more than desire, but that was as far as it went. Giving
up on any pretence of romance in their lives to his mind had been a positive
step. The tension and stress of trying to maintain the facade had vanished and
although there were certain aspects of their relationship that he missed, in
particular the physical side of it, he had to admit that life was much easier
now that they were friends rather than partners. He still annoyed her, as
sometimes she did him, but how much simpler it was to forgive without the
burden of fearing for the future of their marriage.
Now it was at an end, all sorts of freedoms had opened up to him. Felina
still loomed large in his life, but free of the constant sniping and
quarrelling, he found himself able to turn his attention to things that he had
been neglecting. His relationship with the Sword was one of them. Many hours
spent with it had convinced him that a deeper knowledge of its intimate
workings and powers was not something to be feared. Rather, it was something he
longed to embrace. He could understand why Felina sought knowledge in her
books. The yearning for a greater understanding of the Eye was something his
soul craved with an intensity that he had once found frightening. He was
certain that it would swallow him up - something of such magnitude could do
nothing else - but what a price to pay for ultimate knowledge and access to
unrivalled power.
If this was what Mumm-ra experienced every time the Ancient Spirits of
Evil energised him with their powers, Lion-O could understand why he was
willing to endure life in such an unnatural form. It was like a drug; the
emptiness after it had gone always demanding greater satisfaction next time.
Filled with such desire, it was easy to forget the dangers as Mumm-ra had. But
the Eye of Thundera was different, Lion-O told himself. It was a force for good
and if he lost his soul to it, at least he would not be entering into the kind
of servitude to which Mumm-ra was enslaved. The power of the Eye of Thundera
spoke of deep goodness, of a well being that made him strive to give his best,
of power that he had barely tapped.
He had given the source of that power a great deal of thought over the
long winter months, on the grounds that it better to know what he was getting
into before finding himself in deep water. Chief amongst his concerns had been
the question of why Mumm-ra had had it in the first place. He was certain of
its intent to do good; that was without question. What then had the Ever-Living
Servant of Evil wanted with it? In fact, why did he still crave its return? He
had given into the doubts created by such considerations and for a time had
created some distance between himself and the weapon. They lived in a fickle
world. It was not too much a stretch of the imagination to believe that the Eye
was capable of using him, perhaps as it had once had Mumm-ra, and of switching
its allegiance when the time was right. Was that why it had been in his
treasure room, the last resting place of a power source that was no longer
content to work with its current partner?
Until those questions had been answered, he wasn't sure he would ever be
able to use the Sword of Omens with confidence ever again. He had hoped Felina
would have been able to settle his mind on the subject, but she had been unable
to provide him with the reassurance he needed. Just when he had convinced
himself he would never be truly able to trust the Eye again, Jaga had appeared
to lay his fears to rest.
As usual, Jaga had been brief and succinct. The Eye was not a trinket to
be claimed by whoever laid hands on it first, Jaga had declared. Mumm-ra may
have had possession of it, but he could never rule it or use its powers because
the Eye would not permit it. It had given its powers freely to Leonus for him
and his descendants to use in the cause of good, not because it had to, but
because it had chosen to. The Eye had chosen to bestow its gifts on Thundera as
much as it had chosen to reject the rest of Mutant kind. That fact, however,
would never stop either the Mutants or Mumm-ra from trying to retrieve the Eye
they thought was theirs by right. Little did they know they were doomed to
empty victories for a weapon that would never work for them.
For Lion-O, however, the notion that the Eye was capable of logical
thought had come as no surprise. He was sure that he had always been able to
detect an intellect when he was in harmony with its powers, as though whatever
it was, whether a higher being or ineffable mass, worked through him, guiding
his actions and opening his eyes to greater possibilities. Those things
sometimes still frightened him, as he often yet thought of it as having his
will overruled by this power. But even so, he now wondered if the Eye would
ever reject him one day, and he glanced down at where it rested, inside the
Sword of Omens at his side, and felt guilt – as if it was aware he doubted, feared,
craved and depended upon its powers all at the same time.
However, since Jaga had allayed his biggest doubt, he was keen to
embrace what the Eye offered. It had chosen them to wield its awesome powers and
it was not a responsibility Lion-O took lightly any longer. The obvious path to
this stronger bond seemed to lie with the Book of Omens. On several occasions,
he had seen it work in conjunction with the Sword to reveal to him things that
were pertinent to their situation. He had urged Felina to see if she could
discover anything in her books that spoke of a way for the bearer of the Sword
to use the book to increase this bond, especially in the light of Mumm-ra's
growing powers and invulnerability.
Lately, however, she had seemed tired and had yet to give him anything
solid to work on. Whenever he sought her out for answers, she was asleep or
resting and he had to tell himself to bide his time. She was still a few weeks
short of full term and he was sure that once the babies were born she would be
back to her old self. Certainly she was out of sorts, so much so that she had
not put up a fight when he had announced she would be staying at the Lair with
Snarf and Pumyra while the other Thundercats went on this mission. Her
participation in this enterprise would have been a great help from a
knowledgeable standpoint, but even she could see the wisdom in taking things
easy this late in her pregnancy. They had both come too far to let things go
wrong now.
Such thoughts were playing on his mind when he became vaguely aware that
a question had been addressed to him and someone was waiting for an answer.
Dragging himself back to the present moment, he found two sets of eyes upon him
and Bengali's jaws still grinding furiously.
"The plan?" Panthro asked again. "When we get
there?"
"We have to get in first," said Lion-O. "I expect Mumm-ra
will put up a fight, so some of us will have to distract him while the rest of
us destroy those statues."
"Excuse me for asking," said Bengali, "but why don't we
go when he's asleep? That way we can take him by surprise."
"And how do we know when he's asleep?" Lion-O said.
"Mumm-ra is active at all hours of the day and night."
"But he's a creature of the darkness, isn't he? You said so
yourself."
Lion-O nodded. "And creatures of darkness are best tackled at
night."
Bengali's expression spoke volumes about his indecision whether to say
what was on his mind. In the end, his courage won out. "Doesn't that mean
that's when he's at his most powerful? If so, why are we going at night?"
He gestured to the dark sky with its moonlit clouds. "Wouldn't it be
better to go during the day?"
"No," Lion-O said decisively. "I faced him at night
during my Anointment Trials without the Sword and won. Day or night, it doesn't
make any difference."
"At least the Mutants won't be there," came WilyKit's cheeky
voice. "Slithe is too busy getting his beauty sleep right now."
"And he sure needs it," said her brother. "He sure is one
ugly Mutant."
"Not all Mutants are ugly, WilyKat," came Lynx-O's calm voice,
somewhere deep within the rear cabin. "Unless you think we are too?"
"Not like him," said the kitten, grimacing. "Anyway, we
aren't Mutants."
"According to Lion-O, we were all called Mutants once," Lynx-O
went on.
"Except some of us evolved beyond our bestial origins," said
Panthro. "And some didn't."
Lion-O caught his implication. "Grune, you mean?"
Panthro grunted in reply.
"Have you ever considered," said Tygra, "that we might
not be as far evolved as him?"
"Don't talk nonsense," said Panthro.
"I'm not. It's a reasonable question. After all, we do not share
his tolerance for Thundranium. He seems to have a natural resistance to it that
we lack, or perhaps have not developed."
The Thundertank hit a bumpy patch of debris at speed, throwing its
passengers about. As an indicator of Panthro's mood, it was clear that he
didn’t like what he was hearing.
"Grune's a monster," he said. "He wants us all dead or
his prisoners. So before you go comparing us with him, you might want to
remember that. As for this so- called resistance of his, I don't believe it.
You want to know what I think?"
No one answered him, but he went on anyway.
“I think he's found some way of blocking its effects. I’ve always
thought the throwbacks had something up their sleeves they weren’t telling us.
Grune just used it to screw us over, not help us. But if he can resist it, so
can we."
"An intriguing prospect," said Tygra. "Perhaps next time
we run into him, we can ask him how he does it."
There was a level of sarcasm in his voice that Lion-O noticed did not
escape Panthro. "You might laugh, my friend," he said. "But I'm
telling you, he's got some kind of advantage over us that's got nothing to do
with his genes."
"Is that possible?" said Lion-O, looking through the hatch to
catch Tygra's eye.
He took a long, considered breath before answering. "Yes, I don't see
why not. Third Earth has much to offer, as we have found. It is not beyond the
realm of possibility that a substance exists that counters the effects of
Thundranium. If we discover what that it, theoretically it should be possible
to construct a device or even an elixir of some sort to give us a similar level
of immunity."
"Look into it once this mission is complete. Grune is likely to be
thorn in our side for some time yet and we need to even out the odds."
"Talking of the mission," said Panthro, "Mumm-ra's
pyramid dead ahead."
From out of the gloom, the massive edifice was rising above sands. The
lightning that usually played around the obelisks at each of its four corners
was absent, suggesting that its undead occupant was dormant. Lion-O had to admit
to a certain level of satisfaction at seeing this. Bengali's misgivings about
the timing of the mission had thoroughly annoyed him, not least because having
his judgement called into question never put him in a good mood. If Mumm-ra was
inactive, however, it seemed that he had picked their time of attack well.
"How do we get in?" asked WilyKit with her face once more
pressed to the opening. "It doesn't look like there's a door."
"Then we'll make one," said Panthro. "Brace yourselves,
Thundercats. Let's go shake that old bag o'bones up till his teeth
rattle!"
Never one for the subtle approach, and before Lion-O could protest,
Panthro had the Thundertank running on full throttle as it roared up to the
nearest wall of the pyramid. The front claws slammed into the stone and tore it
to pieces. Seeing it coming, Lion-O had managed to grab himself something to
hold onto and had to grit his teeth as Bengali's unsupported weight thudded
into his side, making his healed leg from the ordeal months earlier in the
tunnels ache in protest. A muttered apology was the best he could expect above
the noise of rending stone as the Thundertank crunched through the last of its
obstacles and stormed into the heart of Mumm-ra's tomb.
As entrances went, it was noisy enough to wake the dead and it had
exactly that effect. If Mumm-ra had not been aware of their presence before,
then he certainly knew about it now. As Lion-O exited the Thundertank, he heard
the telltale creak of the heavy lid scrapping the floor and the warning growl
of the Sword of Omens. This might be their last chance to capitalise on the
element of surprise, so he quickly gestured to the others to fan out around the
pyramid. By the time Mumm-ra emerged, the only Thundercat in sight was Lion-O
himself.
"Foolish cub," growled Mumm-ra, his eyes lighting with a
fierce red glow, matched only by that of the Eye of Thundera. "You dare to
come here?"
"I dare," said Lion-O.
"You think you can challenge me, here in my domain? Death will be
the price for your arrogance."
"Fine words, Mumm-ra. But I will triumph here today."
Mumm-ra laughed. "What is today but a blink of the eye of time?
Your days are numbered, Thundercat, but Mumm-ra lives forever!"
***************
An hour after the Thundertank stormed out of Cat's Lair, Felina found
that she was too tired to keep her eyes open another moment longer. The day had
been more exhausting than usual and she had sat through the Council Meeting
with her eyes teetering on the very edge of closing. Lion-O's plan was a good
one, although it had met with considerable opposition from Cheetara, who had
argued that the risks did not outweigh the possible benefits.
Felina could understand her misgivings. There was no certainty that this
mission would succeed and they could return having achieved little other than
severely upsetting Third Earth's resident demon. On the other hand, she could
also sympathise with Lion-O. As the date of the birth grew nearer, she found
herself growing more and more anxious. Panthro and his talk of plots did not
help matters. As determined as she was to have Warrior Maidens assist in the
delivery, he was equally adamant she should not. She had questioned him about
how he could be so sure that this plot he talked of involved stealing her
babies, when neither WilyKit nor WilyKat had mentioned that fact in their
report of what they had overheard. Nor could he give her any satisfactory
reason for laying suspicion at Arilla's door. As far as she was concerned, Arilla
was a friendly face in trying times and Panthro's attempts to keep her away
only made her more obstinate about wanting her presence.
Today, however, she was too tired to keep up the fight. She felt
restless and the dull ache that had been plaguing her stomach for most of the
day did not help matters. For a while she had been convinced that she was going
into labour prematurely, only to tell herself that she was being silly and
imagining things. It was too early for that, she reassured herself. This was
just another thing she had to endure in a pregnancy that seemed to be dragging
on forever. Soon, she told herself, soon it would all be over. There was just
the birth to get out of the way first.
She had refused Snarf's offer of help in getting to her room and had
sought sanctuary behind her closed door from his constant fussing. He meant
well, but it was too overwhelming. How many times did she have to keep telling
people she was fine? Just to prove it, she had even convinced Pumyra that it
was safe to leave her when a Wollo female came calling, begging for help after
a farming accident had left several members of the village desperately clinging
onto life. The news that a true healer now lived at Cat's Lair had spread like
wildfire and requests for assistance were growing by the day. Felina had sensed
that Pumyra was torn between staying, as she had been ordered, and going to
help. Since Lion-O was away, technically Felina had been left in command and
had used her prerogative to insist that Pumyra go and do what she could for the
stricken Wollos. Pumyra had clearly been grateful, as much as Felina was to
have one less person fussing over her and with Snarf attending to his laundry,
the Lair was blissfully quiet.
Left to her own devices, she could have done anything. She chose,
however, to make the most of Lion-O's absence and relish the rare opportunity
of having the whole bed to herself. Without him, she could have the pillows
just the way she liked them, not stacked up neatly into small towers as he
preferred. One was enough to support her head and she lay on her back, her
hands resting lightly on her stomach, listening to the sound of silence.
Another reason it was great to be alone were the shockingly erotic
dreams she’d been having lately. Laughable in reality given the state she was
in, but her dream world knew of no such hindrances. When she’d wake from one
such dream to look upon Lion-O lying beside her, Felina was sure he could read
it on her face what she’d been dreaming and it was embarrassing to say the
least, regardless if such things might be considered normal reactions to the
crazy hormone fluctuations her body was enduring – or so she’d read.
Although, she didn’t think that’d be a problem tonight, not with that
persistent ache to contend with. At least the twins were quiet, sparring her
any jarring kicks and turns, and she found herself wondering about their
peacefulness. Perhaps they were trying to give her a hint, she decided, and
followed their example. Sleep came to claim her and took her in its welcoming
embracing, gently sweeping away the aches and stresses of the day.
Then, into her safe haven, came uproar. The smell came first, of wood
smoke and the rancorous odour of burning flesh. At first she thought she was
having a nightmare, about the Emite village and that horrible fire. But when
the smoke assaulted her nostrils, bringing back consciousness with a voice that
yelled at her to wake up, she knew this was no nightmare. Her eyes flew open
and she found herself in a room filled with acrid black smoke that hung several
feet above the bed. She breathed it in and it swirled into her lungs, making
her choke. In the distance, she heard again that voice, sounding so familiar,
telling her she had to leave.
In the few minutes she had been asleep, clearly some disaster had
befallen the Lair. Her first thought was for her babies, then for Snarf and
Velouria, trapped somewhere in the burning building. Heaving herself from the
bed, she called out his name, hearing only the crackling of flame-consumed
materials in reply. She struggled to the door and looked out into a red-glowing
corridor. Smoke hung heavily near the ceilings and wisps of grey were escaping
beneath several of the doors. Putting her hands over her mouth, she made her
way along the corridor, hugging the wall for support. Down in the hall of the
Lair, there was still no sign of Snarf and between hacking coughs, she yelled
out to him. Plumes of smoke were billowing from the twin corridors that led
away from the main hall and she knew that if he were still there, then he must
surely have been overcome.
As she hesitated, the voice sounded, urging her to leave and escape to
safety while assuring her the others were all right. At her approach, the door
to the outside world flew back and a warm wind touched her cheek. She was
leaving one fire to head into another and yet she could not remain here. And
still that voice told her to go.
"Go where?" she called back.
"Follow me, child," it said. "Have no fear."
With those words, she recognised it. "Father? Is that you?"
Her heart raced with excitement, even though she logically knew he was long
gone. Like a little girl, she tossed logic aside to indulge that old urge to be
with her father and make him proud of her.
"Come with me, Felina," he replied. "Follow the sound of
my voice. I will lead you to safety."
She did as she was told. He led her past the burning ruins of the Berbil
village, past a mighty river that had evaporated under the extreme heat, past
the twisted and blackened remains of the forest that had once been home to the
unicorns. In a place she no longer recognised, he finally told her that she was
safe and bade her rest in a small cave. Gratefully, she sank to the ground and
rested her head against the wall. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was
sleep. If she could shut her eyes for just a moment, she could vanquish these
awful dreams for she was back to believing that’s all the inferno could have
been. Her father, he was gone. He did not speak to her like he did from beyond
to Lion-O and she could not have walked through that charred and smoky
countryside and made it without a mark on her, or choking to death on the fumes
for that matter. If she could just get some rest, close her eyes again; these
unfamiliar surroundings would melt back into her bedroom.
It was the pain that jolted her awake. It ran through her like a knife
raked through her guts. She clutched her stomach and cried out, bending over to
protect herself and lessen the ache. A few seconds later it had passed and she
sat back, gasping for breath. Was she to get no peace, she wondered. Even her
sleep was invaded by nightmares of fires and visions of Third Earth aflame.
Perhaps having Lion-O beside her was not a bad thing if he kept away the demons
of the night.
Needing a drink, she reached for the glass she had left on the bedside
table. Her searching fingers failed to locate it and came into contact with
damp earth instead. Opening her eyes, shock turned to alarm as she realised she
was no longer in her room, but in the cave she remembered from her dream, clad
only in her night gown and a robe and boots she didn’t even remember pausing to
put on. Her footprints could be clearly seen in the moonlight, leading into the
cave so she had come her under her own power. Had she sleepwalked? If she had
put illusion into reality in her unconscious state, then no wonder the dream
had seemed so real.
The experience had shaken her, but she quickly realised that there was
nothing to be gained from remaining where she was. Snarf would be worried if he
discovered her gone and a night spent in damp conditions had nothing to
recommend it. Despite the growling discomfort from her stomach, she made it up
to her feet, only to be knocked to the ground again by a racking pain that
brought a cold sweat beading across her body. Long after the initial agony had
passed, the nagging memory of it remained and she stayed where she was, on all
fours, trying to work out exactly what was going on. The obvious conclusion
sprang to mind. Was she going into labour? No, she told herself, she still had
a few weeks to go. Whatever this pain was, it had nothing to do with the birth,
and it was all the more reason to prompt her to return home where she could get
some help.
She held onto that belief until the next jolt robbed her of her breath
and kept her down on her knees. Worse yet, this bout brought a gush of warm
liquid forth, soaking the bottom portion of her gown. The frightening truth of
it could not be denied. She was far from home, she was alone and her babies
were coming, sooner rather than later. She had never been more scared in all
her life.
At this moment, she wished Lion-O were with her or anybody, really, who
would be the least bit sympathetic so she wouldn’t have to endure this alone.
She found herself hoping that this was not real, that her last nightmare segued
into this horrible scenario. This was not, of all things, how she imagined
giving birth would be. But the pain – it was too real to deny. This was
happening here and now.
Between debilitating cramps, she squinted out of the cave and determined
she was far beyond the Lair and far beyond any other friendly peoples,
including the Warrior Maidens. Nothing about the silhouette of the landscape
looked familiar. She thought about crying out, but then stopped short. She was
in no position to attract the wrong kind of company – it was bad enough
considering the possibility that someone with ill intent may find her before
the others would. For now, she was safer hidden here given her odds of making
it back to the Lair in her present state was minimal and only given to grow
worse with time.
Another stabbing pain hit her abdomen and she almost had the will to be
quiet snatched from her, but managed to bite her lip to quell the tail-tell cry
that threatened to accompany the pain.
Felina’s mind raced, flipping back through all the things she’d read in
anticipation for this moment, as well as recalling all the advice she’d heard
from the likes of Cheetara, Willa, and Arilla. All the books and first-hand
accounts she could fill her head with in a lifetime, she thought, could not
prepare her adequately for this moment. There was no preparing for this pain,
this fear that now consumed her. She also couldn’t help but be reminded of what
might go wrong, and finding herself in these surroundings and with labor coming
on faster than she’d ever thought it was supposed to did nothing to calm her.
She tried to make her way over to and sit down on a ledge of stone, but
found walking actually helped her stay more comfortable once she got upright.
Grunting through another round of crippling cramping, Felina braced herself on
the damp wall of the cave. She tried to will herself to some semblance of calm
by concentrating on her breaths. Maybe someone would find her before the babies
actually came. Maybe the sword of omens was alerting Lion-O to her troubles
this very minute. That hope was the only thing she could cling to as she tried
to cope.
***************
With hindsight, Lion-O could see that he had probably made a mistake in
allowing Mumm-ra to take on his energised form. His role as distraction had
been complicated to the point where he was running out of places to hide, while
the others clustered around the base of one of the statues discussing the best
way to bring it down. To Lion-O’s mind, the solution was obvious and had lost
patience waiting.
“Move!” he ordered.
“No!” yelled Tygra. “It won’t work.”
But Lion-O was in no mood to listen. The Eye of Thundera opened at his
command and a beam of energy flew towards the base of the statue. Seconds
before it hit, a red glow irradiated the statue and the power of the Sword of
Omens was dissipated across its surface. A hearty laugh broke the stillness
that followed and Lion-O had to run for his life as Mumm-ra threw an energy
bolt in his direction.
Coming to rest behind another of the statues, he found Tygra beside him.
“How did you know?” he panted.
“Lucky guess.”
“Don’t believe you.”
“All right then, I tested out this device on it.” He showed Lion-O the
small square gadget he held in his hand. “It’s a matter disrupter. It should
have shattered the stone, but that red glow burnt it out before it had a chance
to work.”
“But the Sword is more powerful than that.”
“Yes, but it works on the same principle. It tried to penetrate the
statue’s defences by force and it was repelled.”
His next question was snatched from his lips as the ground beneath them
lifted several feet into the air and plunged back down. By the time he had hit
solid ground, the statue seemed to have grown several feet. Either that or they
had just fallen into a very large hole.
Right on cue, Mumm-ra appeared above them, congratulating himself at
such an easy victory. “I told you I would win, Lion-O,” he said, his left hand
glowing with the unearthly power of his evil masters. “Now you will die!”
He had lost the Sword of Omens in the fall and now it lay beyond his
reach. With Mumm-ra poised to strike, time was not on his side. Even if he called
it to his hand, it would come too late to deflect the lethal blow. Stalemate
ensued, with Mumm-ra daring Lion-O to see if he could move quicker than he
could deliver his energy bolt. Malice burned in his soulless eyes as his grin
broadened, knowing he had triumphed in this battle. His fingers twitched and
Lion-O held his breath.
But then Mumm-ra was being hurled across the opening, pushed violently
by a fierce pulse of blue energy. His hesitation had cost him dearly and the other
Thundercats had regrouped and taken him by surprise. Now Cheetara stared down
at him, a look of muted satisfaction on her face.
“Didn’t I tell you this was dangerous?” she said.
“If we get through this in one piece,” Lion-O said as he hauled himself,
“remind me never to doubt you again.”
Glancing round, he saw Mumm-ra’s crumpled shape up against the cauldron.
It would not be long before he recovered and renewed his attack. If they were
ever going to end his reign of terror, then now had to be the time.
“You say we can’t penetrate it,” he said to Tygra, “but what about if we
use physical force against it?”
“That would be harder for its defences to counter,” he replied.
“Although I’m not sure that even Panthro would be able to shift one of those statues.”
Lion-O grinned. “He doesn’t have to. Panthro, get the Thundertank’s
grappling hooks on this statue. Bring it down!” Lion-O had to admit that now it
had been fortuitous to barge into the Pyramid with the Tank.
Panthro raced to the vehicle and activated the hooks. The chains sprang
out, fixed clawed spikes into one of the pillars. Then he hit reverse. The
Thundertank’s engines screamed in protest as it tried to gain traction. For an
agonisingly long time, the Thundertank bounced up and down on the spot, roaring
furiously, when suddenly to Lion-O’s ears came the sound of pebbles falling. Up
above the statue was crumbling as inch by inch it was pulled from its base.
“Everyone, clear!” he yelled. “It’s coming down.”
The Thundertank’s treads bit into the ground and with a mighty heave it
pulled the bottom section out of the pillar. With its base gone, the statue
tumbled down. The animal head hit the ground last of all and shattered into a
thousand pieces. In its final collapse came the sound of a tortuous wail and
through the dust Lion-O looked over at Mumm-ra, to see him on his knees,
reduced to a pathetic pile of dry skin, bones and rags, his eyes wide and his
mouth agape.
“What have you done?” he said, crawling over to the place where the
statue had once stood. From the ruins, he picked up a shrivelled lump of
something that looked like it had once been vaguely human.
“Is that what I think it is?” Lion-O heard WilyKat whisper. “Is that one
of his organs?”
“It is, isn’t it, Mumm-ra? They were the last remnants of your worldly
life, the very things that bound you to Third Earth. Now they are destroyed,
your power is at an end.”
When Mumm-ra looked up, Lion-O could have sworn he saw tears in his eyes
and a strange emotion came over the Thundercat. Pity, he actually felt pity for
the unworldly monster that, had the tables been turned, would have had no
issues with snuffing him out and never looking back. Lion-O supposed, this was
the fundamental difference between their mindsets.
“Curse you, Thundercats,” he said. “Curse you for this! You came to my
world and destroyed everything I had. One day, Lion-O, you will know what it is
to taste defeat and stand helpless while your enemies gloat. You may think this
is the end, but I will have my revenge yet!”
“You can try,” said Lion-O. “We’ll be ready for you.” He gestured to the
others. “Let’s go. Our work here is done.” Mumm-Ra wasn’t ultimately destroyed,
but it would be a long, long while before he had the strength to give them a
run for their money. Lion-O could leave satisfied.
Away from the dusty interior, the air of the outside world seemed
fresher and spoke of the approaching dawn. Panthro brought the Thundertank to a
halt and turned to look back at the pyramid.
“That’ll keep him busy for a while,” he grunted.
“He’ll be back,” said Lion-O.
“And coming after us,” said Cheetara.
“Are you still worried?” said WilyKit. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Cheetara shivered. “He cursed us. Doesn’t that worry you?”
“Not particularly,” said Lion-O. “There’s nothing he can do about it.”
“Let’s hope not,” she said. “I’ve got this bad feeling that we haven’t
heard the last of this.”
*************
Felina’s brow was soaked with sweat as the
rays of dawn filled the sky, and her cheeks were damp with tears. The night’s
labor had been brutal and relentless, and it was now reaching its peak. The
pains, they were almost constant with little time to catch her breath between
onslaughts. She was in absolute agony, the likes of which she’d never experienced
before.
She’d taken her robe off some time ago, but
used its sleeve to bite onto when the pains would peak, yet afraid to make too
much noise. Still, it wasn’t easy and sometimes she couldn’t help herself.
Between ragged breaths, she sobbed. How she
wished this would all just stop and she could allow her exhausted body rest it
begged for and her mind a shelter from the pain. But there was no mercy, and
she simply found herself wishing it would end soon.
Then suddenly, during the apex of the latest
wave of merciless cramping, something changed. Instinctively she crouched and
knew that the baby was finally making its debut. She was able to reach and
support the newborn, even through this most devastating part, which brought her
to her knees, and stared with stunned disbelief at the tiny, wet cub she held
when it was over. Blinking, she snapped out of it long enough to reach into her
boot for her dagger and used it first to cut part of the inner tie out of her robe.
Then she used it again to cut the child’s cord. Next, she employed the string
to quickly tie off the cord, having remembered that much from her texts.
Disturbed that the cub had yet to exercise its lungs as she thought it should,
she wiped at its nose and mouth until it wailed plaintively. Felina felt
somewhere between a laugh and a tear as she cradled the child, happy that it
had been born seemingly healthy.
Her joy was cut short by another round of the
same ardent pain.
“No more,” she whimpered before she suddenly
realized this wasn’t over – there were twins, or so they’d told her, and it
looked like they were right. She hadn’t entirely forgotten, but she’d also
wanted so badly for the ordeal to be over with, perhaps she held on to the hope
that they’d been wrong.
As best she could, she swaddled her first
born inside her robe before concentrating on bringing the second cub into the
world. In one bright spot to the evening, the process was shorter the second
time around and so she had to endure much less pain. Felina repeated the same
procedure following the second child’s delivery, sighing wearily.
With the task done and the cubs safely
swaddled in the warmth of her robe, Felina lay down beside them. She was
exhausted, too tired to try to move with them now. She needed rest. As her
heavy lids closed, she almost thought she saw a large shadow fall across the
wall of the cave.
******************
Upon returning to the Lair that morning,
Lion-O soon realized their troubles had just begun as soon as he was met by a
twittering Snarf and a sheepish Pumyra. Felina, they were hesitant to admit,
was missing. Tygra’s sensible remark about the Sword failing to signal any sort
of peril barely registered over the crushing thoughts of Mutants or other
shadowy figures that may have snatched her in the night, intent on
Jaga-knew-what. Snarf swore that the Lair alarms never sounded and that he’d
only taken his eye off the monitors once in the middle of the night, when he’d
gone to check on Velouria. He was finishing up the laundry when she ambled off
to bed, and that was the last Snarf had seen of her. It was a disturbing
mystery and one Lion-O thought he could get to the bottom of soon enough.
The sword or the Lair security may not have
sent out a warning, but what Lion-O saw through the apertures in the hilt of
the sword when he called on second sight gave him little comfort. He lowered
the blade slowly and looked levelly at each of his waiting, eager friends.
“She’s…she’s in a cave, somewhere beyond the
River of Despair,” he finally said.
Picking up on his tone, Panthro prodded him
to get to the larger point instead of asking perhaps the more obvious question
– how she got there. “Is she okay?”
Lion-O blinked. “I-I don’t know. I saw her
lying on her side and there was some blood…”
Snarf cringed, and Cheetara let a small gasp
escape her. Panthro led the charge back to the Thunder Tank.
“No time to lose – let’s go,” he prompted
them along the way. The Thundercats, including little Velouria, piled into the Thunder
Tank. None of it happened fast enough for Lion-O’s liking, even after they got
going. At least Bengali crowding him was the smallest of worries, now.
“Come on,” he urged from his perch in the
passenger seat, “can’t this thing go any faster?”
Panthro shook his head. “Technically, but for
this terrain, this is it. I go any faster and we might lose control. Take it
easy Lion-O.” His words were meant to reassure, but Lion-O caught the tension
in his tone.
Cheetara, he heard from the rear compartment,
lamented not knowing Felina’s exact location or she’d volunteer to run out
ahead of them. There was nothing they could do but endure the tense ride, which
seemed to take twice as long as it ordinarily would, and suffer the horrible
scenarios their minds would conjure. Lion-O was sure nothing going through
their minds could top what was going through his. He hoped to the fates he was
wrong.
Finally, they reached an area that looked
close to Lion-O’s description, which he’d been describing in more detail to
Panthro as they drove. The countryside was alive with the sounds of springtime
but nobody came rushing out of the cave to great them at the sound of the
ThunderTank’s roaring engines – neither friend nor foe. Lion-O could feel his
blood pounding in his ears as he ran toward the cave’s opening, part of him
anxious to get there and part of him dreading what he may see when he did.
Stepping inside, he stopped to let his eyes adjust to the light
difference. Then he saw her, just as she had been in the sword’s vision, laying
on the rocky cave floor with her back to him, and eerily still. He tried to
call out her name, but his breath caught in his throat.
He forced himself to close the distance,
cautiously kneeling by her side when he reached her. Felina’s eyes were shut
and her hair was matted to her head as if she’d been soaking wet earlier.
Gingerly, he laid a hand on her upper arm and nearly jumped out of his fur when
she moved. Her eyes opened and she turned to look up at him. He felt a wave of
relief run over him, relaxing muscles he hadn’t realized were tensed.
“Are you alright?”
A weak smile came to her lips. “I am now,”
she said in a hoarse whisper.
It was then that, amid what he’d thought was
a pile of fabric near to her, came some movement and a tiny cry. For the second
time, his breath caught in his throat. He was only vaguely aware of the other
Thundercats’ presence around him as he went to the bundle and carefully picked
it up. Two tiny cubs, their eyes seemingly froze in a permanent squint and both
taking turns bellowing out fervent cries that lacked any real volume, were
bundled in the garment. They felt light, even with there being two of them –
can’t have weighed more than ten pounds together, he supposed. One of them had
a thick mass of hair that stuck out wildly in all directions.
Lion-O looked to Felina then back to the
cubs, unbelieving that this moment had arrived. Her middle was still protruding
noticeably, but not like it used to, he realized. He was awestruck, looking
back down into their tiny faces.
Panthro broke the collective silence. “I know
that look,” he said with a mirthful chuckle. “A little early but,
congratulations.”
One twin broke a meaty fist free of its
swaddling and waved it in the air. Lion-O let the cub grab onto his finger,
surprised at the strength of the babe’s grip. The contact seemed to soothe the
cub, who had up until that point been highly agitated.
It was Tygra who took charge. “Let’s get them
back to the Lair. Being premature, although not by much, they’ll need to be
examined carefully. Felina as well.”
Pumyra nodded her agreement.
“They sound healthy to me,” Panthro declared.
For her part, she started to make the effort
to get to her feet, but Panthro spared her the trouble by picking her up carefully
and carrying her back to the Tank. Too tired to protest, she laid her head
warily on his shoulder as acceptance of his assistance.
Lion-O followed, with the babies huddled
close to him. Cheetara had waited back at the Tank with Velouria. The toddler
visibly brightened when she noticed what Lion-O carried as he took a seat in
the rear for the ride home. She motioned to her mother a sign that usually
indicated herself and as such, meant ‘baby’.
Cheetara nodded, smiling broadly at her
daughter. “Yes,” she agreed. “There’re two babies!”
Velouria squealed with delight, impressed
that there were in fact other creatures her size in the world besides Snarf.
Panthro let Pumyra take over regarding
Felna’s care after getting her into the Tank, to take his place up front while
Bengali happily took over the front passenger seat for himself. Pumyra offered
Felina a blanket to wrap herself in and eased her as carefully as possible into
the nearest seat. It was obvious that Felina was in some discomfort and seemed
more tired than if she’d climbed out of a Thundrainium pit, but from all
appearances, had otherwise faired the birthing ordeal well. The bumpy ride home
would probably not do much to improve her condition, but then again, it would
probably pale in comparison to what she’d just been through. She seemed
willing, at least, to keep any complaints to herself as they started to roll
out for home even if her occasional wincing gave her away.
The unexpected good news brought Snarf out of
hiding, and he navigated the crowded back cabin to hop up beside Lion-O and get
a good look at his new charges.
“What do you think?” Lion-O asked, though his
gaze never left the little ones he held.
Snarf looked thoughtful before declaring, “I
think that one has hair like you had. They certainly don’t look identical.” He
paused, looking to Lion-O expectedly. “I’d refer to them by their names but you
haven’t told us what they are.’
Lion-O blinked. He and Felina had idly batted
a few ideas around but nothing really struck them or stuck. Furthermore, he
didn’t know yet what he was dealing with – a set of boys, a set of girls, or
one of each. He supposed the group was eager to find out and now that Snarf had
brought it up in a round about way, he was curious himself. Gingerly, he
balanced them on his lap and gingerly peeled back the layers of robe that
served as their receiving blanket. Almost immediately, an arc of liquid caught
him by surprise.
Snarf simply chuckled. “Well, that one’s a
boy.”
As for the twin with the head of hair, that
was a girl. So it was – a son and a daughter. The relative chill of being
uncovered agitated the babies, so Lion-O quickly wrapped them back up.
“We’ve a boy and a girl.” Lion-O wore a grin
he couldn’t shake if he tried as he made the announcement, and it only widened
when he caught Felina’s eye. Her enthusiasm was muted by her exhaustion, but he
could tell she was just as pleased. This, they had done well.
“Cool, just like us,” WilyKat chimed in.
“You mean, double trouble?” Snarf challenged.
“Not with me around – they’ll think twice about sparking any mischief.”
“One thing I don’t understand is what you
were doing out here, Felina. How did you get here?” Tygra asked.
She gave a weak shrug. “Sounds crazy, but I’m
not sure myself. I had a dream that seemed so real – about the Lair, it was on
fire and so was the countryside – and my father was calling to me, urging me to
follow him to where it was safe. When I came to my senses, I was in that cave with
the labor too far progressed to walk back. I guess I was sleepwalking.”
“Odd,” Tygra muttered, stroking his chin
thoughtfully. “And you were alone the whole time?”
Felina nodded, shuddering a little perhaps at
the memory of it. The small bit of conversation seemed to wear her out, and she
was content to try to nod off for the remainder of the journey – whenever the
ruts and bumps the Tank sped over weren’t disturbing her.
Cheetara elbowed her mate in the side enough
to get his attention. “Oh, who cares about tradition,” she said, her voice
lowered. “They’re safe and now we don’t have to worry about the Warrior Maiden
issue.”
For his part, Lion-O hardly noticed the
conversation. He held new life, life he had helped create, and he marvelled at
them. They were clean slates, the stories of their lives waiting to unfold.
Thinking about it sent all variations of emotions through him – everything from
the apex of pure joy to dread and uncertainty. Right now, the cubs were at
their most pure. No mistakes had been made, no sorrows suffered, no regrets to
keep them awake at night. Everything was new to them and wondrous, and it would
be his task from here on out to help guide them through it all – the joys, the
wonders, the sorrows – and he hoped he was ready. Lion-O wasn’t sure how he
could feel excited and terrified at the same time but it was the best he could
describe it if he must.
Snarf clapped him on the shoulder, bringing
Lion-O out of his thoughts. “Welcome to fatherhood.”
Lion-O smiled, his emotion beyond mere words.
Little did he know it but he was in agreement with Slithe on one point. The
winds of change were blowing, and life would never be the same.
***************
A/N: Readers – want to help
us name the twins? If so, email either Purrsia
or Spaced Angel a.s.a.p. with
your ideas.
***************
Ten
pounds and a head of hair
Came
into without a care
What
they thought were cries
Were
little laughs
Only
looking forward and moving fast
The
little bundle had arrived
And
I was happy to be alive
In a
magic world
Long
days and dreaming nights
Wide
eyes take in all the sights
A
little wonder goes a long, long way
Learning
where to go and what to say
Say
hello to your new son
Well
he sure is having fun
In a
magic world
Every
moment's built to last
When
you're living without a past
In a
magic world
--From
Whence I Came/In A Magic World, The Eels
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