Dawn, heralded by the light that shone steadily through his window and scratched at his eyes with ever brighter fingers. Tygra groaned and rolled away from the glow. Was it morning already? It seemed only a few minutes ago that his fevered mind had finally shut down and plunged him into blissful unconsciousness. With a weary sigh, he scrubbed at his tired eyes and forced them open. He was in a room he did not recognise, amidst unfamiliar things. The bed with its rumpled sheets, a small table at its side and, on the floor, broken glass.

Something about it awoke a memory that took delight in keeping just out of his reach. Too many morning were spent like this lately, he thought, too much time wasted trying to hold together the vague strands of his life. He sat up, groaning as the remains of a headache pounded at his temples, and sank his head into his hands.

Before his eyes, the world turned blood red as the sunlight shone through his fingers. The colour was too intense somehow, almost as if his skin had been stripped away and his very blood now bubbled on the surface of the exposed flesh. In horror, he took his hands from his face and stared at them and the coating of blood dappling his arms up to the elbows, still sticky to his touch. At the smears on his clothing and bedsheets, and the sickly sweet smell of gore in the air. Not his, he was certain, for not a trace of injury marked his body. His eyes drifted to the door, locked last night, now standing slightly ajar. Whatever had happened lay out there. Shakily, he got to his feet and went to investigate.

Outside, the corridor was quiet. He took a step out and almost fell over the guard slumped by the doorway. Blood glistened on his forehead, but under Tygra's probing fingers the fluttering pulse indicated unconsciousness rather than death. Straightening up, he glanced up and down the corridor, not sure which way to go. The merest trace of red on the floor a little distance away caught his eye. Kneeling down beside it, he tested the globule with his finger and found that it was still not dry. He searched for more and found another, and beyond that, another. His mind reeling at the possible implication of his discovery, he followed the crimson trail down the corridor until it turned a corner and vanished beneath a door. He hesitated for a moment, fearful of what he might find beyond. Then his hand closed around the handle and the door opened.

Blood. Speckling the walls. Splattered in lazy patterns across the floor. On the tangled, torn, sodden sheets of the bed. Beneath them was a shape. He made his way over to the bed and, with shaking hands, drew back the sheets. The lifeless eyes of Mardak stared back at him.

Then, from behind him, came a crash and a scream. He spun round to find a servant, her tray of breakfast things laying broken on the floor at her feet. She was still screaming and now pointing at him, at his bloodstained hands.

"You've killed him!" she cried.

"No," he said. He took a few faltering steps towards her and she screamed again.

"The master's been murdered!" she yelled. "Help me, somebody, help!"

The sound of running feet in the corridor told him that her call had been answered. Within seconds, several tigers appeared in the doorway. Their faces all took on the same horrified expression, the same conclusions showing in their eyes as they took in the scene.

"What have you done?" one gasped. "You've killed him."

Tygra's eyes wandered back to the bed, to the blood-soaked corpse with its open, unseeing eyes and contorted expression, to the reddened blade that lay on the floor, inches from his feet.

"No," he whispered. "I didn't, I swear." His gaze shifted to his own hands, still covered with Mardak's blood. "Did I?"

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

Lion-O hurried into the room and fairly fell over the chair that had been moved into the centre of the floor. Its occupant barely registered his dramatic entrance or the curses that followed his untimely collision. Trying to ignore the pain from his stubbed toes, Lion-O came round in front of the chair and looked down at the slumped figure of his friend.

"Tygra," he said. "What happened?"

He did not answer and kept his head firmly in his hands, eyes fixed on the floor. Out of desperation, Lion-O turned to the others in the room.

"Well?"

"You've heard the news," said Saturnus, not bothering to get up from his seat by the window. "The tigers have a corpse and a suspect. What else is there to say?"

"You can't believe he did this."

Saturnus gave him a sideways glance. "How am I to know what to believe? If you can get anything out of him, you're welcome to try."

"He's said nothing since we brought him here," said Leosus, simpering at Saturnus' elbow. "I hope we did the right thing, my lord. The moment I heard the news, I instructed the guards to have him brought here. There was so much uproar at the tiger headquarters that it wasn't too difficult." He cleared his throat. "From what I understand, there were calls for swift justice, if you know what I mean."

"You did well, Leosus," said Saturnus. "Normally, I would prefer not to interfere, but this…" He paused just long enough to let his gaze drift back to Lion-O. "This is unprecedented. I do not need to explain the implications."

"Implications?" Lion-O echoed hollowly. "Mardak is dead and they think Tygra killed him. What could be worse than that?"

"Don't be shallow," Saturnus retorted, getting to his feet and wandering over to where he stood. "Don't you see what this means, to you and your position?"

"No, frankly I don't. What I do see is my friend in terrible trouble."

His uncle gave a grim smile. "That is evident enough. What I mean is the implications as to the validity of your Anointment Trials."

"What? How can you be thinking of that at a time like this?"

"You know what they will say, Lion-O. A Lord of the Thundercats, trained by a murderer?"

"You don't know he did it!"

Saturnus snorted and folded his arms. "Have you asked him?"

Lion-O pulled his gaze back to Tygra, who still had not moved. "Tygra?" he said. "I have to ask you this. Did you kill Mardak?" There was no answer, nor any indication that he had heard him. "Tygra, talk to me," he urged.

Tygra slowly raised his head and released a sigh that seemed to come from the depth of his pained soul. His red-rimmed eyes met Lion-O's and held his gaze without wavering. "What do you think?"

Lion-O shook his head. "Of course you didn't, Tygra. This is a mistake, a horrible mistake. You would never do anything like this. I don't believe a word of it. But you have to tell me what happened."

Tygra sighed again and stared down at his hands. "I don't know, Lion-O. I wish I could be certain…"

"The other tigers said you were brought back to the Leader's house in a state last night. Did something happen between you and Mardak when you were there?"

"Mardak…" he began hesitantly. "We talked about… something."

"You do remember, good. What was it?"

Tygra frowned, his brow furrowing into deep lines in an effort of remembrance. "Something he wanted me to do, but…" He bit his lip and shook his head. "My mind's a blank. I don't know what happened."

Saturnus snorted. "That something did is evident enough from the state of you. Account for that."

"I can't. I only know that when I awoke this morning, Mardak was dead."

"Slaughtered," Saturnus corrected him. "With all the evidence pointing to you." He whispered a few words to Leosus, who then quietly slipped away. "Frankly, I would not blame your fellow tigers if they took you out and hanged you from the nearest tree," he continued, wandering back to the window to gaze down at the crowd clamouring on the steps of the Lair below. "Look at them, baying for your blood. But for my nephew's sake, I will not permit it." He turned back and stared at Tygra with intent burning in his steely eyes. "You haven't been well lately, have you? On several occasions now have you been observed acting strangely, for want of a better word. From what I understand, tigers are prone to insanity as a result of their mental powers."

"What are you saying?" Lion-O said.

"What I'm saying is, how bad is it, Tygra, this madness inside you? Enough to kill?"

Tygra bowed his head. "I… don't know."

Saturnus grunted with contempt. "I think that answers the question, don't you, Lion-O?"

Before he could reply, the door opened and Leosus re-entered, followed by WilyKit and Pumyra. They came to an abrupt halt when they saw Tygra. Pumyra was the first to recover and she hurried over to the tiger's side. While she conducted a quick examination, Saturnus perched on the edge of Lion-O's desk and watched her work with interest.

"WilyKit, my child," he said after a moment. "Why did Cheetara not return with you and the others from Third Earth?"

WilyKit gulped and looked distressed. "She… um, well, seemed a bit upset about something."

"Really?" said Saturnus, tapping his chin in a thoughtful manner. "Why was she upset?"

"I-- I don't know," WilyKit mumbled. But from the way she chewed her lip and fidgeted uncomfortably, it was clear she was not telling all she knew.

"I see." Saturnus stood up and towered over her. "You do realise that your friend here is in great trouble. Lying will not help him. Now, why was Cheetara upset?"

"Uncle, is this really necessary?" Lion-O said.

Saturnus held up his hand to silence him. "Well, child?"

WilyKit squirmed under his unwavering gaze. "Please don't make me say it!" she cried. "Please!"

"Say what?" Lion-O asked.

"I can't," she cried.

"You can tell us, don't worry," he reassured her. "No one will get into trouble, least of all you."

Her shoulders drooped and she started to cry. "We were at Cat's Lair," she sobbed. "Everything was nearly done. I went to the Control Room to tell Tygra I had finished, only when I got there I heard voices. He was shouting. I didn't know what to do. I've never heard him like that before. Then he came out and Cheetara was still in there and she was crying and… and…"

She broke down into a flood of tears. Pumyra left her patient to go to her side and put her arm around her shoulders. "That's enough," she said. "Whatever happened, it doesn't matter now."

"I think it does," said Saturnus.

"They argued. So what?"

His eyebrows rose. "Are you so sure? There's more to this story. Go on, WilyKit."

She gulped nervously. "Cheetara… her dress was torn. When I asked her what was wrong, she wouldn't tell me and ran away. The next I knew she had left with Bengali. That's all, I swear." She turned to Pumyra and clung to her, crying bitterly. "I'm sorry," she wept.

"It's all right, Kit," Pumyra said gently. "Happy now, Saturnus?"

"Yes, what was that all about?" said Lion-O.

"Can't you guess?" said Saturnus.

"Like Pumyra said, they argued."

"How innocent you are, nephew. I can think of much more sinister connotations."

"Well, I can't and wouldn't," Lion-O said. "Not about Tygra."

"Because you think you know him? Look at him, Lion-O, covered in the blood of his House Leader. Can you still tell me you are so sure?"

"He would never hurt Cheetara!"

Saturnus smiled sickly. "Who's to say what he would do in the grip of some diseased fit of mental decay? It's too easy to mistake friendship for passion and cross the line."

"No!" Tygra suddenly yelled, leaping to his feet. "You're wrong!"

"Am I? Then tell us in your own words what happened."

"We… we…" The confusion showed on his face as he tried to grasp the elusive memory. "I… don't know," he admitted at last. "Something… I remember it tore, her dress, in my hand. Orange material, shiny and it tore." He looked from one face to another. "She was crying. I didn't mean to hurt her."

"Oh gods," Lion-O murmured, staring at his friend with growing horror. "Tygra, pull yourself together and stop this nonsense. Did you have a row with Cheetara, something like that?"

"She was crying. Why, I don't know. I just can't remember."

"For Jaga's sake, stop saying that!" The crash as Lion-O's fist struck the desk made all in the room jump. "What's the matter with you, Tygra? Do you know what you're saying? Are you really telling me that you can't remember if you… you…"

He faltered just long enough for Saturnus to cut in. "Raped her?"

"Stop it, all of you!" yelled Pumyra, rushing to Tygra's side to offer him some support. "You're putting words in his mouth. He's ill, can't you see?"

Saturnus smiled and nodded. "Yes, I agree with your prognosis, healer. I do believe Tygra is ill. And for that reason we must help him." Leosus handed him a document and Saturnus ran his eye down it. "Our ancient laws recognise mental instability as a cause of crime and hold that the person could not be held accountable. However, for the protection of his fellow countrymen, such a person must be confined to an asylum."

Tygra began to shake at his words. "You can't do that."

"What else should we do with you, a probable murderer and rapist?" Saturnus remarked. "All we need is the signature of the Lord of the Thundera, the approval of a healer and two witnesses. Leosus and I will meet that latter requirement. Well, nephew?" He noted Lion-O's hesitation. "May I remind you that his kin will not be so understanding. If he stands trial, on this evidence he will be executed… if he makes it that far. If you value him as a friend, I suggest you act now. This is the only way to save him."

It was wise counsel, but Lion-O still found himself seeking approval in his friend's tortured face for what he had to do. There was something in Tygra's eyes, a silent plea that he found devastating.

"For your own sake, I have to," he said, "unless you can tell me otherwise."

Suddenly Tygra surged forward and faced him across the table. "All right then!" he yelled. "I did it. I killed Mardak!"

"Why?"

Tygra shook his head. "It doesn't matter why. Because I wanted to. There, I confess! Now let me stand trial and take my punishment."

"And Cheetara?" asked Saturnus. "If you're purging yourself of guilt, you might as well be hung for sheep as a lamb."

For a long moment, he struggled. Lion-O watched his turmoil and waited for him to deny it, willing him to say the words. Finally, to his horror, Tygra nodded.

"All right, yes," he said hoarsely. "I did what you said. Now hand me over to my House for trial."

Lion-O fell back into his chair. All he could do was stare at his friend, the friend he thought he had known so well, yet clearly so little. Numbly, he took up a pen and began to write, but before he could, Tygra reached across to stop him.

"Lion-O, I've confessed. You have to hand me over for trial."

"No, Tygra, you're ill. You need help. I'll not see them kill you." He pulled his hand away and once again began to write.

"Please," Tygra said. "Let me die. Don't send me there. Please, I beg you as someone you once called a friend. Please don't do this!"

Desperation burned bright in his eyes, and Lion-O had look away, back to the empty line where his signature was required. He forced his hand to write, then pushed the document away, handing the pen to Pumyra.

"Don't," Tygra said to her.

She could not look him in the face. Instead, she looked to Saturnus, who nodded his approval. She signed quickly and moved back to WilyKit's side. As the two lions took turns to add their own marks to the document, Lion-O went over to where Tygra stood with bowed head. He could not bring himself to touch him and offer comfort as he once might have done in the past. Instead, he offered what he could in words.

"You'll be all right, Tygra. They'll be able to help you. And we'll come and visit, I promise."

Haunted eyes met his, heavy now with resignation. In the background, Lion-O was dimly aware of the guards coming through the door at Saturnus' bidding. They took Tygra by the arms and roughly bound his hands. He offered them no resistance when they began to drag him away. For a moment, he turned and looked as though he was about to say something, but then the guards pushed him on and he was gone.

"That went well," said Saturnus, when the room fell into silence.

"Well?" said Lion-O. "How can you say that? I've just had my friend committed."

"And saved his life and countless others in so doing."

"Or condemned an innocent one." Lion-O sighed and shut his eyes against the blur around him. "If you don't mind, I want to be on my own for a while." He heard swift footsteps as WilyKit fled the room and then the quiet shuffle as the others followed. "Wait, Pumyra, can I have a word?"

She took a few steps back into the room and looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"Go to the asylum. Make sure Tygra's being looked after."

"I don't have much influence down there," she said. "It's all very secretive. I'll try, but I doubt they'll tell me much." She turned sharply and headed for the door.

"You blame me?" Lion-O called after her.

Pumyra hesitated in the doorway. "No," she said quietly. "I blame myself. For what I have done there can be no forgiveness. Nothing I do from this point on will ever be so low."

With that, she set off down the corridor, leaving Lion-O to reflect on her words. After a moment, he leant his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. No one ever said doing what was right was easy, he thought. Once more, he found himself missing Jaga's wise counsel.

"And what would you say, old friend?" he murmured sadly. "I only wish I knew."

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

The door of the small cell clanged shut with a deafening thud. There was the sound of bolts being shot into place and keys turning in several locks and then silence. Terrible silence, ringing in his ears as loud as any mockery. Strange to think that once he used to seek out its comfort for quiet hours of meditation away from the rowdy life at the Lair. How he missed those days.

Now he shivered and glanced around at him. Four walls in a flat neutral colour, somewhere between grey and fawn, a padded floor and a single strip light set high in the ceiling far beyond his reach. His new home, for now and the rest of his life, however long that might be. To avoid this place he had admitted to things so heinous that his stomach revolted in disgust. Worse still, they had believed him possible of such acts.

The drugs they had jabbed into his arm were already starting to take effect, sending what was left of his sanity into a whirl. With dizziness biting at his mind, he tried to steady himself against the wall, only to miss and collapse onto the floor. He tried to get upright, but what use was it? Where would he go even if he could make it to his feet? So he lay slumped against the wall, eyes closed, praying that when he opened them again he would be home on Third Earth. If he delved deep enough into his memory, he could still call up images of good times spent in happy company, of warm afternoons in lazy contemplation, of the hot sun on his skin as he helped with the berry fruit harvest, of laughter that rang in his head like… like… But it was gone, snatched from his grasp as yet another door closed. In its place only burning anger, welling up like the lava of Firerock Mountain, needing escape and finding it.

He threw himself at the door, pounding it with his bare hands, unheeding of the blood that spurted from broken skin and splattered him and his surroundings. Fury like he had never felt before, boiling his blood, forcing him on to smash himself at the door, clawing, tearing, hammering in vain. But the body gave out long before his anger. Exhaustion brought him to his knees and his bloody hand could only tap feebly at the immovable obstacle to his freedom. Tears mingled with blood to leave long red smears on the door's white surface as his hands fell uselessly by his side.

"I'm not mad," he whispered between choking sobs. Then, turning back to the room, he appealed to the brooding stillness. "Where are you now? You've got me where you want me. Now what?"

The silence remained unmoved by his entreaties. Finally, he had found a place free of his tormentor. But what a price to pay.

"Damn you, Lion-O," he murmured. "Damn you and your self-righteous Code of Thundera. Why do you always have to be right? Why didn't you let them kill them, instead of leaving me here? Why, damn it, why?"

"Because he's feeble-minded fool who wouldn't know 'the right thing to do' unless that cretinous Sword told him."

Tygra started. The voice had returned, louder now, not in his head, but coming from behind him. His senses prickled as he picked up another presence in the room. Fear kept him facing the door, but he did not need to turn around to identify the speaker. What frightened him more was that his delusions were no longer confined to disembodied voices.

"It's not real, it's not real," he repeated over and over to himself. "I'm not mad. I'm not like my uncle."

"Granted, he was crazy," came the voice. "All that murmuring and twitching and hitting himself up against the wall -- not that I'm suggesting any comparison of course."

There was an almost imperceptible pad of feet against the soft floor as the unbidden presence drew closer. Tygra squeezed his eyes shut and pressed himself up against the door, holding onto it as the only reality he could trust.

"Oh, come now," said the voice, so close to his ear that he could feel the warmth of the breath that accompanied the words. "Surely you knew I would be along sooner or later. I imagine it's a bit of shock, given that you told everyone I was dead, and maybe you believed it too… but it doesn't matter now. What does is that I'm here to help you."

"You aren't real," he grated. "This is just an illusion."

A hollow laugh drifted over his shoulder. "Like the ones you gave Lion-O during the Anointment Trials? Sorry to disappoint you, but this is all too real. But perhaps you need convincing. Do you not recognise me, is that it? Is it better <when I talk to you like this, hmm?>.

Tygra jumped as the voice sounded again in his mind. He scuttled away from the door and ended up in a corner. There was no escape. His eyes took in the vision before him and breath was snatched from his weakened body.

"Hello, brother," said Tyree. "Long time, no see."

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