The Daughter of Set

Part One: Death and the Thundercat

Red against the brilliant blue of a Third Earth sky. It was enough to cause Tygra to stop what he was doing in the Lair and send him hurrying in the direction of the signal. Trouble, as usual, he decided. Another glorious morning spoilt by whatever or whoever had caused Lion-O to call for his fellow Thundercats. Given recent events, he was ready to bet that it was Lunatac in origin. It was a little too early for the Mutants to have rolled out of bed. There again, any time was a good time for Mumm-ra to put in an appearance.

Nearing the source of signal, however, he slowed when he realised that none of the usual suspects were present. In the remains of the smouldering Berbil village, a glowing blue orb hovered several feet above the ground.

The obvious question was snatched from his lips when he was suddenly dragged into the cover of a thick clump of bushes. A hand clamped firmly over his mouth and a familiar voice told him to be quiet. He nodded his agreement and was released. Finding Lion-O at his side, he pointed at the orb and mouthed his question. Lion-O frowned and shrugged.

"I don't know what it is," he whispered in reply. "One minute we were helping the Berbils with their harvest and the next we knew, that thing appeared. It seemed harmless enough, but then it started letting fly with energy bolts, and you can see the result."

"Have you tried tackling it?" Tygra asked.

"Try is the optimum word. It won't stay still long enough for me to get a good shot at it."

"It's even too fast for me," came a breathless voice from behind them.

Tygra turned slightly to give Cheetara a smile. "I never thought I'd hear you say that," he said.

"Well, it is."

"Make a note of this, Lion-O," he said, teasing her. "A cheetah admitting defeat. A very rare thing."

"When you've finished with the merry quips," she retorted, "perhaps you could turn your mind to the problem in hand?"

Before Tygra could answer, the air around them started to throb with the deep resonant sounds of an engine. The Thundertank came tearing down the path and slid to a screeching halt directly in front of the orb. As the dust settled, the front cabin opened and Panthro looked out, staring at the devastation around him in horror. Then, in a second, everything changed. The orb, confronted by this metal monster, suddenly sprang into life. The blue glow intensified to such brilliance that it hurt the eyes. Tygra found himself stumbling into Lion-O as their headlong dash to Panthro's aid came to a grinding halt. It was a while before his blinded eyes were able to distinguish shape and colour, and only then was he aware that a change had come over the orb. Now vaguely humanoid in appearance, it had sprouted a leering, grinning head. Burning blue eyes, the colour of the distant oceans, surveyed them with palpable contempt.

"Thundercatssssss," it lisped. "I knew I would get your attention sssooner or later."

"Who are you?" Lion-O demanded, levelling the Sword of Omens at the creature.

"Who I am issss of lessss importance than what I want."

"And that is?"

"That Ssssword you're sssso carelessssly aiming in my direction."

"How original," Cheetara muttered.

"But if our friend wants the Sword," said Lion-O, "then why don't we give it to him?"

In answer to its master's cry, a bright stream of energy arced from the tip of the Sword of Omens towards the creature. It stood, waiting for the inevitable impact, seemingly unconcerned. Then, with inches to spare, its body hollowed and bent around the energy beam. The Sword's wasted powers continued onwards to smash into an already ruined hut and sent what little remained crashing to the ground. The creature found this greatly amusing and filled the air with its booming laugh.

"Not your day, isss it?" it cackled. "Are you really going to be difficult about thisss?"

"I'll give you difficult!" roared Panthro, activating the Thundertank's water cannon. The jet rained down on to parched earth, for the creature's body had broken up into numerous smaller orbs to avoid the deluge. Once reformed, it stood before them, hands on hips, giving them a look of pity.

"Ah, what a sssshame. Poor Thundercatsss. Issss it my turn yet?"

So saying, its head snapped in the direction of the Thundertank and crackling white light shot its eyes. The vehicle lit up as every circuit was abruptly shorted out. The resulting explosion threw Panthro high into the air and he hit the ground with a sickening thud. Tygra dashed to his side and was relieved to find that his old friend was shaken and groggy, but otherwise unhurt.

"The tank?" Panthro murmured.

What was left was a charred, smoking mess. Tygra gave him a consoling pat on the back. "We'll sort it out later," he said. "First we have to deal with Mr Electric over there."

"Let me at him. I'll fix that joker. I'll give him something to bring him down to earth."

Tygra found himself smiling despite the severity of the situation. Panthro was a brave fighter and he had no doubt that he would happily try to wring the creature's neck, if he could. A nagging suspicion told him that brute force was not going to be the answer. If anything, it lay with the Sword, which Lion-O was once again aiming at their foe.

"Give it up, Thundercat," the creature crowed. "You can't hurt me, but I can hurt you. That metal heap wasss no challenge."

"You dare say that about my Thundertank!" Panthro snarled, trying to get to his feet.

"Pathetic," it sneered. "But I'm fasssst losssing patience. Give me that Ssssword!"

"Over my dead body!" Lion-O declared.

"As you wisssh, Thundercat! But instead of yourssss..."

Its eyes shifted just slightly. From the corner of his vision, Tygra caught the sudden movement of parting undergrowth as two spaceboards and their unwary owners darted into the open. Before he could even yell a warning, the creature had loosed an energy bolt in their direction. Taken by surprise, WilyKat and WilyKit had no time to react. Time seemed to slow as the beam continued relentlessly towards them and still they stood in its path. But the world suddenly turned yellow and white, and the two Thunderkittens collapsed in an ungainly heap of legs and arms and spaceboards. Tygra breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to where Lion-O was confronting the creature.

"You coward!" he was yelling. "Pick on someone your own size!"

His anger was translated into a massive surge of energy that flew from the Sword of Omens. This time, the creature took the blast full on and, when the smoke had died away, it had vanished.

"Good riddance too!" Lion-O said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "Everyone all right? Are you injured, Panthro?"

"Only my pride," he grunted. "Look what that thing did to my baby!" He went over the ruins of the Thundertank and stroked what remained of its once sleek sides with almost reverential care. "Don't you worry," he said to it. "Soon have you up and running again."

"Soon might be a little too optimistic," Tygra said. "We'll need to--"

His words were lost as a high-pitched scream filled the air, directing his attention over to where the kittens had fallen. Now on her feet, WilyKit was trembling and crying.

"Kitten, what is it?" Tygra said, hurrying over to her side. Her voice was too choked with tears to speak. Instead she pointed down, not to where her brother was struggling to get up, but at Cheetara, who lay half hidden under a spaceboard.

Pushing it aside, a quick visual examination confirmed the worst. She was not breathing. His heart missed a beat as he took up her arm and felt how limp it was. The regular pulse of life was absent from the blood vessels of her wrist and neck, and pressing his ear to her chest told him for certain that her heart had been stilled. He could see no wounds or contusions, yet it was obvious what had happened. She had taken the brunt of the blast, and it had killed her.

"She's not breathing and I can't find a pulse," he said to the others who had gathered around him. "I'll try to revive her, but we really need Pumyra. If she's not already on her way, tell her to get here!"

Putting his mouth over hers, he forced air into her lungs, breathing for her, then drawing away to pump at her chest. Time and time again he tried, only dimly aware of the stiff breeze that heralded the Thunderstrike's arrival and the whine of its engines dying down.

"What's happened?" Pumyra said, appearing at his side.

"Cheetara was struck by an energy blast from a creature we just encountered," Lion-O said.

"It was our fault," said a tearful WilyKit.

"And?" Pumyra said. "Tygra, tell me."

"Her heart has stopped," he said, momentarily pausing.

"How long?"

"Couple of minutes."

Yelling for Bengali to get her medical case from the Thunderstrike, she took over the effort of trying to revive their downed friend. Once she had her bag, she rummaged in it and pulled out the small box-like cardiac stimulator. Attaching its two pads to Cheetara's chest, she ordered them all to stand back.

"I'm going to try to shock her heart into beating again," she explained.

"It will work, won't it?" Lion-O asked.

"I hope so," she said, concentrating on setting the dials on the device. "Trouble is, we're working against the clock."

"Why?"

"The longer her vital organs are without oxygen, the greater chance there is of permanent damage," Tygra told him. "Especially in the brain."

WilyKit gave a loud sob and clung to Panthro. "It's all my fault," she cried. "Cheetara's going to die and it's all my fault."

"Hush, kitten," Panthro said, consolingly rubbing her back. "She'll be all right, just you wait and see."

At his words, Pumyra shot Tygra a troubled look, before turning back to her patient. "Everyone stand clear," she said, then activated the stimulator. Cheetara's body jolted as the wave of energy passed through her. Pumyra quickly consulted the device and shook her head. "I'll have to try a higher voltage. Don't worry," she said to the others. "This does happen."

"Cheetara's a fighter," said Panthro stiffly. "She'll come back to us."

Pumyra made the necessary adjustments and tried again. Despite an initial heartening shudder, it passed and Cheetara was as still as ever. Hiking the dosage up to maximum and cursing roundly under her breath, Pumyra applied the device again. Cheetara's body almost lifted off the ground, but fell back down as limp and lifeless as ever. Pumyra tossed the stimulator aside and probed her friend's neck to confirm the diagnosis for herself. After several moments of fruitless searching, she sat back and gave a small shake of her head.

"I'm sorry," she said in a quiet voice. "There's nothing more I can do. She's... gone."

WilyKit let out a wail and dropped to her knees, flinging her arms around Cheetara's still body and hugging her tightly, all the while tearfully pleading with her not to be dead.

"She... can't be... dead," Lion-O said, his pale face showing his shock. "It's not possible. Do something," he said to Pumyra, as numbness turned to frustrated anger. "Don't just sit there. Help her."

"What would you have me do?" she shot back. "Didn't you see me try?"

"But there's machines and things that make people breathe," he said. "Wouldn't they work?"

"It's been too long," she said in voice heavy with defeat. "If I thought it would help, I would. Don't you think I would?" Tears beaded in her eyes and she gave into the hurt. "I can't help her any more," she sobbed. "Jaga forgive me, but there's nothing I can do."

Bengali knelt down by her side and offered a comforting shoulder. She clung to him and wept bitterly. "What do we do now?" he said to the others.

"Do?" Tygra echoed. He knew what he meant, but finding the words to tell him had become very difficult. "We take Cheetara home," he said at last. It was a sense of direction. Anything was better than just standing there.

"And then?"

And then... He couldn't bear to think what came next.

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

"I hate you!"

With that, WilyKit sprang from her seat and flew from the room. A moment of awkwardness passed and the meeting continued, but Tygra found that his heart wasn't really in it. Concentrating on what anyone was saying was hard enough, especially as low voices seemed to be the order of the day. Several times he had to shake himself back to reality to answer a question or add something to the discussion. It was all so trivial. Duty rotas, minor repairs, food supplies. Only yesterday had they laid their friend to rest in the cold earth and left her to her peace, with the reassurances of the Unicorn Keepers that they would keep careful watch over her grave. In the long nights, he had tried to convince himself that the death of one didn't mean the end of the dream, that Thundera would rise again without her. But it was the end of his dream, one that had begun a long time ago, on a planet that had died and been reborn, when he had seen her face and known that his life would never be the same again. And then would come the regret, for feelings never expressed, for someone who he had come to see as more than a friend, for someone who had left a terrible, gaping hole with her passing.

That grief had partly been responsible for WilyKit's distress. After the funeral, he had made a concerted effort to move on by removing anything that would remind him of her absence. It was part of the healing process, he had told himself, when he had carefully packed up her things and stowed them away out of sight. The same had been true when he had taken her chair from around the Council Table. He had tried to convince himself it was for the sake of the others, so they would not have to look upon the empty seat. When WilyKit had protested about its absence, he knew he had been fooling himself. She had accused him of trying to wipe away all traces of their lost friend. Worst of all, she had said that he didn't care. He had retorted in an angry voice, telling her to behave. That had earned him her parting shot and more hurt than he cared to admit.

With the meeting at an end, he excused himself and made his way upstairs to the bedroom corridor. Stopping outside the twin's room, he could hear sobbing from within. Silently cursing his insensitivity, he gently knocked and called her name.

"Go away!" came the reply.

"WilyKit, let me in," he said. "I need to talk to you."

There was a brief pause, then the door opened. She stood before him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. He dropped to his knees and gave her a sad smile.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to shout at you."

Her little face crumpled. She rushed into his open arms and clung to him. "I'm sorry too," she sobbed. "I don't hate you."

"I know," he said softly.

"I want Cheetara back."

"So do I, WilyKit."

"She was like my big sister," the kitten sniffed, scrubbing great globules of tears onto his already damp shoulder. "I miss her."

He freed himself from her embrace and looked kindly into her watery eyes. "Tell you what. We'll put her chair back right now. What do you say to that?"

WilyKit nodded. "She's still here with us, isn't she?" she said. "Like Jaga is?"

"Of course she is."

"Do you think she blames me?"

"For what?"

The kitten wiped her nose on the back of her hand and swallowed heavily. "For not getting out of the way in time. She would be here now if I hadn't been so slow. It's my fault she's dead," she said, giving way to a crying fit.

"No, WilyKit," Tygra said, taking her by the shoulders and making her look at him. "That creature killed her. If Cheetara hadn't been there, it would have killed you and your brother instead. Cheetara did what she did because she loved you. She still loves you."

"You reckon?" she said.

"I'm sure."

She gave him a sad, grateful smile and gave him another hug.

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

"Pathetic!" Mumm-ra sneered, watching as this scene played out in the bubbling waters of his cauldron. "It's enough to turn the stomach," he muttered. "That is, if I had one."

At the sound of approaching footsteps, he looked up. Emerging from the shadowy entrance into the relative light of his tomb chamber were the Lunatacs. As usual, Luna, perched atop Amok, led her motley band, who were bearing between them a long metal box. This ungainly procession continued until they reached the steps on which he stood, then, with a wave of her hand, Luna gestured for them to stop. The box thudded to the ground, drowning out the grumbles of its bearers.

"Well, we did it," Luna said. "Don't know why we did it, but we did."

"You did it because I threatened you with evisceration," Mumm-ra said. "Any problems?"

Luna shrugged. "No, your knock-out gas worked like a dream. The Unicorn Keepers didn't know what hit them."

"Nor will they. As far as they are concerned, they took an unscheduled nap. I trust you put all back exactly as you found it?"

"Of course," she returned with ill-humour. "What do you take us for?"

Mumm-ra refrained from answering that one. For a change, they had done well. Praise where praise was due. Not that he would give them any. "What's with the box?" he said.

TugMug trundled from the rear of the group, pulling down a scarf he had wrapped round his nose and mouth. "That's to spare us the stink," he said. "Grave robbing is bad enough without having our nostrils assaulted by the stench of rotting Thundercat."

A low laugh rumbled from Mumm-ra's withered frame.

"What's so funny?" Chilla demanded. "And what do you want with her anyway?"

"Who cares?" Luna snapped at her.

"I care," she shot back. "I've just spent my day digging in the dirt. Do we get an explanation, Mumm-ra?"

"I'm not sure that I necessarily want one," said Alluro. "Necrophilia isn't exactly my cup of tea, but each to their own, I suppose."

"Yeah, right," said TugMug. "What exactly is nec... necro... whatsit?"

"For evil's sake, didn't they teach you anything at school?" Luna snorted. "It means... oh, tell him, Alluro."

But her fellow Lunatac had clamped his hand firmly over his nose and mouth. Luna followed suit when she saw that during their squabbles, Mumm-ra had wandered over to the metal box and opened it. The lid fell back to reveal its contents. A dirty cloth that had once been white hid the face of a shrouded figure from their view. Mumm-ra undid the bindings and, ignoring the protests and groans from the Lunatacs, peeled back the cloth.

"Perfect," he murmured.

She looked as though she was sleeping. Rough manhandling by the Lunatacs had disturbed the wilting petals that had been liberally sprinkled over her mane, but the hands folded on her breast still clutched a single-stemed flower. Only his touch on her cheek confirmed that she was as cold as the breath Chilla hissed in his direction.

"D'you mind?" she grumbled.

"Here is your corpse," Mumm-ra said. "Look at her."

"I'd rather not, thank you," said Luna. "I've seen dead Thundercats before."

"Not like this one."

He waited as first Alluro and then Chilla came over to inspect the body.

"A remarkable state of preservation," Alluro said, tentatively removing his hand from his mouth. "Six days dead and not a sign of decay."

"Oh, please," Luna said, sticking out her tongue in disgust.

"An embalming technique, d'you think?" he continued, ignoring the unpleasant noises coming from their leader. He met Mumm-ra's shake of the head with raised eyebrows. "What then?"

Mumm-ra laughed heartily. With the merest lifting of his hand, Cheetara's body raised up out of the box. He guided it over to the waiting stone table and with great control carefully lowered it down.

"So, Mumm-ra? Are you gonna tell us?" Luna demanded. "Why does she look... like she does?"

"When is a corpse not a corpse?" Mumm-ra said, making his way towards the table. Silence, and when he turned back to them, blank faces all around. Just when he was on the verge of exposing their ignorance, Red-Eye, who had been strangely quiet throughout their discussion, spoke up.

"When the corpse isn't dead?" he said thoughtfully.

Realisation slowly dawned over his fellow Lunatacs and turned to universal horror. Mumm-ra smiled to himself. After all these years, that he still had the ability to shock was always pleasing to know.

"Are you saying that she's not dead?" Luna spluttered. "They buried her alive?"

"Unintentionally," said Mumm-ra. "In their defence, I must say that it would take a far greater intelligence than any of those wretches possesses to determine the cause of her death-like state." He rounded the table and stood behind it. Plucking the flower from Cheetara's hands, he crushed the fading bloom and tossed it away. Then he laid his hand over her heart. "Come to daddy, my pretty one," he cooed. As soon as he removed his hand, from her chest emerged a pair of waving claws followed by a flat crusty head that melted from her body without breaking the skin. The thing continued to slither out of her until, finally free, it scuttled to Mumm-ra's waiting hand. He picked it up and stroked it lovingly. "Yes, you have done well, my beauty," he said to it.

"What in the Lunarian stink pits is that?" TugMug asked.

Mumm-ra held his hand aloft for them to see. "A Crystal Scorpion," he said. "A very rare and precious creature. It has the unique ability to inhabit several dimensions at once."

Uncertain glances passed between the gathering of Lunatacs. He could feel their unease growing by the second and it gave him a certain satisfaction. He would wipe that smile off Luna's face yet.

"So what's it doing inside her?" Chilla said suspiciously.

"My bidding," said Mumm-ra. "I was the energy beast that attacked the Thundercats. Dear Cheetara ran straight into my trap. The blast that hit her contained my pet here."

"And that killed her? I mean, looked like it did?" said Alluro.

"The Crystal Scorpion is a parasite. It releases a poison that paralyses its unknowing host. All functions cease. The body appears dead, leaving the scorpion to feast on the lifeforce of the host at its leisure."

"It's been eating her?" said Luna, grimacing. "Yuck! You are one sick--"

"The scorpion feeds very slowly. As it prefers fresh food, the host remains alive. There are recorded cases of victims still alive after a hundred years."

"How?" asked Alluro.

"As I said," Mumm-ra went on, "the creature is inter-dimensional. Once inside the host, it takes over the higher functions. It draws oxygen from another dimension and diffuses it throughout the host body in sufficient quantities to maintain life, but without drawing attention to its presence. The only flaw in its scheme is that it cannot produce the effect of rigor mortis. That is the only way its presence can be detected. Clearly, the Thundercats are not familiar with this beast or they would never have committed their dear friend's body to the ground."

"And now you've removed that thing, I guess she will come round," said Alluro. "And the Thundercats will have no idea that she is your prisoner. What then?"

"Yeah, what's the point of all this?" demanded TugMug. "And do we get a piece of the action?"

"No, I have a better use for this Thundercat," said Mumm-ra. He put the scorpion onto the floor and it scurried into the shadows. The Lunatacs watched it go with understandable concern and kept one eye on the place where it had vanished in case it made a surprise reappearance. They almost leapt out of their skins when Ma-Mutt came from the other direction and yapped.

"Damn dog!" Luna muttered, pushing her hair back into place. "Can't you keep that thing on a leash?"

Mumm-ra ignored her and stooped to pat the hound on its grizzled head. It whined and dropped the box it had been carrying at his feet. Retrieving it, Mumm-ra placed it on the table and slowly unpacked the contents, taking from it three wooden figures of shaven-headed men, intricately carved down to the last fingernail.

"Dolls?" Luna sneered.

"Ushabti," Mumm-ra corrected her, taking out another figure who held a tray in his hands. "Placed in my Pyramid at my death to do my bidding in the afterlife." He growled slightly when he saw TugMug pick one up and turn it over in his hands. "If you must touch them, Lunatac, you can make yourself useful by placing one at each corner of this table."

TugMug muttered something ungracious under his breath, but carried out his instructions nonetheless. When he had finished, Mumm-ra raised his arms and appealed to his diabolical masters.

"Ancient Spirits of Evil," he cried. "Transform these humble statues into beings of flesh and blood, all the better to serve you!"

Lightning crackled in the still air and poured down upon the heads of the wooden figures. Sparks flew and the smell of electricity filled the nostrils. When the light died away, four tall men stood where once there had been lifeless statues.

"I could use some of those around Skytomb," Luna purred, admiring their toned physiques appreciatively. "To help with the housework, of course," she added quickly, when the others shot her questioning glances. "What are you going to do with them, Mumm-ra?"

"These creatures are skilled in the ancient art of mummification," he said. "They are going to make for me a new mummy."

"You mean, her?" Luna gasped. "But she's--"

"Cheetara has great power," he said. "That business with the Telepathy Beam opened my eyes to the possibilities of her sixth sense. I had thought it a mere fledgling talent, but it could be so much more. I think she has barely touched her true potential. I am going to give her that opportunity."

"By making her ever-living?" Chilla asked. "Doesn't that defeat the object? She's a Thundercat. She'll never work for you. Especially not after you've made her into a mummy."

"She will have no choice. She will serve the Ancient Spirits of Evil and destroy her friends. Then a new age of darkness will begin on Third Earth, in which I, Mumm-ra, the Ever-Living, will reign supreme!"

Light had danced in his tattered cloak and the once bright ribbons that adorned his helmet as he had proclaimed his triumph. He expected something from his evil minions at such a display, yet they were strangely silent.

"And what about us?" Luna said at last.

"What about you?" he growled.

"Excuse me?" she retorted. "We've helped you here, not forgetting all the other countless times. We could have got on your case, Mumm-ra, but no, we stood by you, however crazy you might have seemed in the past. We want some return on our hard work. If not," she said, smacking her crop in her hand, "the Thundercats might be interested in your plans for their friend."

"Is that a threat?" Mumm-ra said, lowering his voice to menacing levels.

"A consideration. Well?"

He regarded her with interest. So, there was a brain lurking under that mop. Luna could be a devious little creep at times and he wouldn't put it past her to do exactly as she said. For the time being, he would have to play along. When Third Earth was his, however, the Lunatacs might well find themselves paying another visit to the lava pits.

"If I covered you in gold, would that be enough?" he said.

"Provided I was sitting on Amok at the time," she said, grinning. "And we want transport off this poor excuse for a planet and a world of our own to rule. Those are our terms."

"I think we can come to an understanding," said Mumm-ra.

"In the meantime, a batch of Thundrillium would be nice, just to show that you mean to keep your side of the bargain."

"Very well," he sighed. "It is done. You will find it back at Skytomb, waiting for you."

Luna squealed with delight. "Excellent! At last, enough power to get my jacuzzi working! And I'm not sharing it," she snapped, glaring at her fellow Lunatacs.

"Perish the thought," said Alluro. "I'm sure we can all think of better ways to spend an evening."

With snide remarks rapidly descending into outright squabbling, Mumm-ra turned his attention back to the table. His attendants were in the process of stripping Cheetara of her burial arraignments in readiness for the procedure. On her shroud, her friends had placed her Thundercat insignia. He took it up and studied it with interest. Its shiny surface seemed to dull at his touch, as if in revulsion. Not that it could do anything to save its wearer. He had cast spells over his Pyramid to prevent the Eye of Thundera or the inhabitants of the Astral Plane from seeing what was about to happen. When they did find out, it would be too late.

"What are you grinning about?" Luna snapped at him.

"Just enjoying some deliciously evil thoughts," he said. "Do you intend to stay for the ceremony?"

"We might," she said cautiously. "Depends what it involves."

Aware that the funerary attendants were awaiting his approval before proceeding, he nodded to them. Silently and dispassionately, they busied around the table, placing a bowl beneath it and collecting the now shiny metal instruments from the one who held the tray. One took up a knife with a finely tooled blade and stood with it poised over Cheetara's lower abdomen. Before the question had formed on Luna's lips, he had pierced the skin and made a neat incision. Blood welled up from the gash and wended its way down onto the table. As the attendants worked, a steady red river started to trickle into the waiting bowl. A universal cry of horror and disgust rose up from the Lunatacs as a hook was inserted into the wound and the lower intestines were pulled out.

"We're leaving!" Luna exclaimed, joining the others in beating a hasty retreat.

"Return in forty days," Mumm-ra called after them. "And be witnesses to our triumph." He smiled with pleasure as his gaze fell once more on the table and he noticed that Cheetara's fingers were twitching. "That's right, my dear," he said. "Don't die on us just yet. I want you to enjoy this. The best is still to come!"

Continued

Continued

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