The Daughter of Set

Part Three: Living and Dying in the Grip of Chaos

The sounds of a heated discussion could be heard long before Tygra rounded the corner and entered the corridor leading to the infirmary. Not so unusual to hear people arguing, but today was different. The same hush that had accompanied Cheetara's passing once again hung over the Lair. Except now it was Lion-O who was ill. At least he was still alive. That made his chances of recovery already better than Cheetara's had been.

As he drew nearer, he made out Bengali's voice, being insistent about something, and Pumyra, being equally insistent about something else. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped into the affray. Much to his relief, silence descended on the warring couple as soon as they saw him. Pumyra returned to her work, all the while muttering to herself, while Bengali folded his arms and stared away into the corner of the room.

"Everything all right?" Tygra asked warily.

"If you mean Lion-O," said Pumyra, "there's been no change. He's critical, but he's hanging on."

"Well, that's good news. And everyone else?"

"Actually, Tygra," Bengali began, much to Pumyra's annoyance, "there's something I have to tell you about--"

He abruptly stopped what he was saying as Panthro, Snarfer and the twins trailed into the room. Tygra waited until Pumyra had answered their questions and then looked at Bengali expectantly.

"You were saying?" he prompted.

"It's not important," said Bengali.

"It was a moment ago."

"Yes, but..." Bengali bit his lip, and his eyes darted to the twins and back again. Whatever he had to say obviously would not bear their hearing. Sending them on their way and asking Snarfer to keep them busy, Tygra once again waited for Bengali to speak. "It's Lion-O," he said at last. "Something he said."

"He wasn't making any sense, Bengali," Pumyra said. "He was delirious."

"I have to tell them," he said. "It might be relevant to what happened."

"You'll only upset everyone," she shot back.

"They have to know this!"

Before another argument could erupt, Tygra held up his hands for calm. "Why don't you just tell us and let us decide?"

Bengali gave Pumyra a final glare and then sighed. "Look, I don't know if it means anything, but when I found him, Lion-O was murmuring something. It sounded like... 'she wasn't dead'."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the infirmary, in which Tygra felt the blood draining from his head and all moisture leaving his mouth. Pumyra was right. It didn't make any sense, unless...

"Well?" Bengali said. "What do you think?"

"He was delusional," Pumyra muttered. "He'd lost a lot of blood. What else do you expect?"

"Who wasn't dead?" Panthro asked. "Did he say?"

Bengali snorted. "Who d'you think? There's only one dead person I know lately who's a she."

"That's ridiculous," said Pumyra. "Cheetara is gone."

"Could have been a clone of some sort," said Panthro, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Mumm-ra's tried that in the past."

"Then it must have been a pretty good one to convince Lion-O," Bengali said. "You saw where the Claw Shield was. He hadn't tried to defend himself."

"And his top was off, which suggests..." Pumyra checked herself and returned to her work. "Well, at least we know now. Mumm-ra won't be able to pull this trick again."

"Trying to make us think Cheetara isn't dead," Panthro grunted. "That's pretty low, even for him."

"But that's not what Lion-O said, is it?" Tygra murmured. "He said, 'she wasn't dead'."

Panthro eyed him uncertainly. "What are you talking about?"

Tygra shook his head. "I don't know. It's the phrasing that worries me. 'She wasn't dead' when? At the Berbil village? Here, at the Lair? When we... buried her?"

Again, silence, with all eyes fixed on him. No one dared speak. No one could, so great was the horror of what he was suggesting.

"No," Panthro said gruffly. "No. That's impossible. Cheetara was dead."

"Was she? Then account for what Lion-O said."

"This is insane," Pumyra said. "She was dead. We all saw it. You were there, Tygra."

"Yes, I know," he sighed. "But what if we were mistaken?"

"We weren't," she said firmly. "I do know death when I see it."

"Of course she was dead," Panthro said gruffly. "As you say, Lion-O was hurt pretty bad. He didn't know what he was saying. Right, well, anyone wants me, I'll be down in the hangar." With that, he made his way to the door and left.

"Think I'll join him," said Bengali. He paused at the door and looked back. "Sorry if I upset everyone. Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned it. I just thought it might have been important."

Tygra nodded. "You were right to tell us. I think we'll chalk it up to delirium." After Bengali had gone, he drew a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves, hating himself for what he had to do. "Pumyra, I'll only ask once and I'll not refer to it again, but are you absolutely sure that Cheetara was--"

"Dead, yes, she was." He could tell from the slump of her shoulders and her bowed head that this was tearing her apart. When she finally did turn around, he could see the tears brimming in her eyes. "She was dead, Tygra. She was cold. There were no signs of life, except..."

"What?"

Pumyra glanced up at him. "Well, there was no rigor mortis."

"Isn't that strange?"

She nodded. "Very. I put it down to how she was killed. I wondered if the energy bolt that hit her had disrupted the normal death processes." She lowered her gaze and stared dejectedly at the floor. "I can't change what happened. I still can't believe that she's gone. But believe me, Tygra, she was dead."

"I do believe you," he said. "I just..." He hesitated, feeling a lump rise in his throat. Before his emotions overtook him, he excused himself and started for the door.

"Wait," Pumyra called. He stopped, and she came over to him with the sort of look on her face that he recognised as the herald of bad tidings. "About Lion-O," she said. "I know this is going to sound terrible, but we need this to be resolved one way or another, don't we?"

He knew what she was meant. It was a problem that had yet to be voiced, but was surely on everyone's mind. Much as he hated to admit it, over the past few years they had become increasingly dependent on the Sword of Omens. He had to remind himself that they had managed on Thundera with a good deal less. Except this wasn't Thundera. Certainly, there had been trouble with Mutants, but they had never had to face an opponent like Mumm-ra. With all the best will in the world, there was only so long they could hold out against him without the powers of the Sword.

"I'm afraid you're right," he said, sighing. "How bad is he?"

"As I said, critical. He should show some improvement in the next couple of hours."

"If not?"

"Then he'll die." Pumyra returned to her patient's bedside and rechecked the monitors showing his vital signs. "And he'll be another friend that I've lost."

"It's not your fault," Tygra said quietly.

"It feels like it is." She gave him a sad smile. "You should go. I'm not the best person to be around just now."

"If you need a break, just call. I won't be too far away."

"Thanks. Later perhaps. What time is it?"

"Almost dusk."

Pumyra shivered. "Something I read once said that, with the coming of night, the powers of evil are exalted and darkness holds the land in its grip."

"And the electric lights come on," Tygra said. He gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll come through this, one way or another."

Leaving Pumyra to her lonely vigil, he wandered down the corridor to his room. Feeling lost and weary, he slumped down in his chair and wasted several minutes staring at the drawing board before him. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of his reverie and picked up his pencil. There was no time for self-indulgent grief, he reminded himself. Lion-O was a tough little cookie. With Pumyra's care, Tygra was sure that he would pull through. At least, he hoped he would. His certainties had deserted him on the day he had held Cheetara's dead body and found that he had lost her. Or was that wrong too, he wondered. She wasn't dead, came the taunting voice of his innermost fears. The more he tried to convince himself otherwise, less he was sure. There was only way to resolve it. He would find out this very night. He would take a shovel and see for himself. No need to tell the others, but he had to know for his own peace of mind.

Before he got to the door, it opened. Snarfer stood there, his little face twisted with worry. "Tygra, there's trouble, yes sir," he said.

"Such as?"

"Lynx-O reported something wrong at the Tower. An electrical fault, I think he said. When I tried to call him back, all I got was static, snarfer, snarfer."

"If they've got a fault, that's not so unusual."

Snarfer squirmed uncomfortably. "That's not all. The Thunderkittens kind of overheard, and, um..."

"They went to the Tower?" Tygra thumped his hand against the doorframe and cursed under his breath. What were they thinking, running off at this time of night?

"Oh, and Uncle Osbert isn't back yet."

"Snarf? Where did he go?"

Snarfer screwed up his face in an effort of remembrance. "To the Berbil village, yes sir," he said. "Said he had to get some candy berries to make a pie. It's Lion-O's favourite, you know. Unc reckoned the smell of it would bring him round."

"Yes, it might." Tygra sighed. "All right, here's what we do. Panthro and Bengali can go to the Tower and I'll--"

"Oh, I didn't say, silly me. They've taken the Feliner out. Panthro said he wanted to test the hyper... hypermega..." Snarfer flapped his hands helplessly. "The thing that makes the Feliner go faster."

"Okay, I get the idea. So it's just you and me. Right, we'll take the Thundertank. I'll go to the Tower, you go find Snarf."

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

"You know what you are? A nuisance, that's what. Come back to us, Lion-O, and stop messing about."

Pumyra sighed deeply and leant up against the side unit. She was tired, physically and mentally. Frustrated too, and feeling worse than useless. A long night stretched ahead, in which she intended to spend every moment by Lion-O's bedside, determined to be there in case he took a turn for the worse. As she had predicted, he was showing signs of improvement. She was still wavering over whether to upgrade his condition from critical to stable, but at least his prospects looked a good deal better than when she had first attended him. One of his lungs had collapsed and the other had been filling with fluid. He had been literally drowning in his own blood. She took some small pride in the fact that she had managed to prevent that, but there was still a long way to go. Preferably, she would have liked to see some sign of wakefulness from her patient; hence her chiding of him a moment earlier. Sometimes a little cajoling worked.

A bleeping started somewhere in the infirmary and she had to reassure herself that it was nothing to do with Lion-O before she was able to locate its source as coming from the Lair's remote monitor. Someone had opened the main doors. They had used the access code, so she guessed it was probably Snarf and Snarfer returning. Deep down, if she was honest, she was glad that someone was back. The Lair could be too silent when everyone was out. For some reason, despite its warmth and happy memories, crossing the entrance hall when no one was around always put her in mind of Mumm-ra's Pyramid. It had that same echoing quality that made her fur stand on end.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she turned her attention back to the tests she had been running earlier. A new strain of Wollo 'flu had appeared recently that was unaffected by the medication she usually prescribed. The sample she had been working on in the petri dish in front of her now was particularly resistant.

"So you think you're tough?" she said to it. "Well, I've got something here that will hit you like--"

She stopped abruptly, for pain had shot through her from an epicentre in her lower back. The sheer shock of it brought her to her knees. For a moment, even breathing was an effort, but then slowly, agonisingly, she reached behind to investigate. Her fingers touched something long and thin protruding from her back. She stared down at a hand stained red with her own blood, and knew she had been injured, severely too, judging from the force of pain that had brought her to the floor. Aware of the growing dampness on her skin, she tried to make it to her feet. Whatever had stabbed her twisted in the wound as she moved and made her efforts sheer torture. Gritting her teeth, she tried again and, clinging to the handles on the work units, managed to get her feet underneath her. Gingerly, she pushed herself up. Congratulating herself on getting this far, she then tried to muster the strength to make it to the communicator. She edged towards the remote, leaving bloody handprints on the worktop as she went. Then, with her fingertips just inches from the button, the thing in her back surged forwards.

She screamed and fell writhing to the floor, clutching at her stomach. Beneath her fingers, a bulge was forming. Her skin stretched to a point, then the razor-sharp, shiny tip of a scalpel sliced through her flesh. It eased from her and fell into her lap, bringing with it a torrent of blood that flowed from her torn abdomen onto the floor to form an ever-widening red lake. It was all she could do to clamp her hands over the wound, but in vain, for the blood found escape between her fingers. As it drained away, her strength went with it. Unable to hold herself up, she fell onto her side into the pool of her own blood. She lay there, gasping, feeling her insides alternating between white hot and ice cold, knowing that her blood pressure was falling, realising that she was dying and with no idea why.

As if in answer to her thoughts, the door slowly drew back. Pumyra found herself staring at a pair of black boots that strode confidently into the room, carefully avoiding the spilt blood. She forced herself to follow the boots upwards to where they met black leggings, and on to an expanse of yellow spotted fur, a tightly laced black top and finally to the sneering expression on a face she once knew as a friend.

"Cheetara?" Pumyra said hoarsely. "Is that you?"

Cheetara snorted and placed her hands on her hips. "Who did you expect? Jaga the sanctimonious? Sorry, dear, you're stuck with me. But don't worry. You'll soon be dead. It only took Chilla five minutes to bleed to death and her wound was much worse than yours."

"Chilla-- is-- dead?"

"Yes, I killed her. I killed all of them. Lunatacs, Mutants, Mumm-ra... even his stinking dog. After them, you were no challenge."

"Why?"

"Some healer you are when you can't tell the dead from the living. So I'm giving you the opportunity to observe the condition up close and personal. Happy dying."

With a grey fog fast clouding her mind, Pumyra could just about recall her earlier conversation with Bengali. She wasn't dead, he had said. She had told him to keep his mouth shut, not to upset the others. She had doubted him. She bitterly regretted it now.

Through the roar of her thoughts, she caught the tap of footsteps crossing the floor. Her vision was rapidly dimming, but she could make out enough to see that Cheetara had gone to Lion-O's bedside.

"You have served your purpose," Pumyra heard her say. "Give my regards to Jaga."

What she did to him caused every warning siren to sound simultaneously. Complete systems failure. There was no one to help him, no one to try to resuscitate him. Lion-O was dead. Pumyra's only consolation was knowing that she would be joining him very soon. Giving up the unequal task of trying to staunch the blood flow from her stomach, her hands fell limply away and flopped onto the floor. The last thing she saw was those same black boots as Cheetara stepped over her and headed out of the door.

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

"Not bad," said Panthro, as he leapt down from the Feliner's cockpit. "Pity the after-burners shorted out. Design fault, d'you think?"

Bengali shrugged non-committally. Panthro guessed that was the best he was going to get out of him. Throughout the flight, he could tell that the tiger's heart had not been in it. His mind had been elsewhere half the time, and he had been sluggish when Panthro had asked him to enter course corrections or adjust velocity. With everyone on edge, Panthro wasn't about to apportion blame for the aborted test, even if a sharper response would have saved the after-burners from over-heating. Still, it gave him an excuse to stay down in the hangar and repair them. As concerned as he was for Lion-O, he saw little use in sitting by his sickbed fretting. He needed to do something positive, and working on the Feliner fitted that bill perfectly.

"Hey, I wonder where the Thundertank's gone?" he said, suddenly noting its absence.

"Tygra's taken it," Bengali said, taking down a note that had been pinned to the wall. "Says here that he's gone to the Tower of Omens."

"At this time of night?"

"Er, Panthro, if it's all right with you, I think I'll just go check on Pumyra."

"Don't bother. She's otherwise occupied."

The voice, hard and steely-edged, made them turn as one. Lounging in the doorway was a figure that both recognised.

"By Jaga," Panthro whispered. "Cheetara?"

"The very same," she said.

"But you're--"

"Yes, I know. Wonderful, isn't it? To taste death and then know life ever-living. I recommend it."

"But..."

"'She wasn't dead'," Bengali murmured. "That's what Lion-O said."

"And he was right," Cheetara said, advancing on them. "Hmm, just the two of you. Where's the other one?"

"Who?" Panthro said.

"Tygra, of course. Don't be tiresome, and I won't have to hurt you... too much."

"Hurt us?" Panthro echoed. "Cheetara, I don't understand. What's going on here?"

She suddenly snapped her head in his direction. Concern flared in his mind when he saw the fierce glow in her eyes, then he felt the muscles of his neck go into a spasm. He clutched at his throat, hearing as he did so Bengali's similar gasp of surprise.

"I'll ask you again," Cheetara snarled. "Where... is... Tygra?"

"Don't know," Panthro croaked.

An evil smile twisted the corners of her lips. "I don't think you understand, Thundercat. I've just cut off the blood supply to your brain. You'll be dead in seconds. Now tell me where he is!"

"You wouldn't."

Barely had he said it than out of the corner of his eye he saw Bengali stiffen, then go limp and fall to the floor, where he lay still.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Cheetara sneered. "Come on, big, brave Panthro. Tell me that you aren't afraid to die. That you won't tell me anything. Well? I'm waiting."

"Never," he hissed.

A sharp pain ripped through the back of his legs. All feeling was lost in his lower limbs as they buckled beneath him and he dropped to the floor. Cheetara wandered over to where he lay and stared down.

"What happened to you?" he said.

"Oh, many things," she replied. "Are you going to tell me where he is?" He gave a stubborn shake of his head. "Very well then."

He was feeling light-headed, but the psychic force that hit his mind brought him back to reality with an aching jolt. He tried to fight it, but the information was pulled from him.

"Ah, so he's gone to the Tower," Cheetara said. "What a reception awaits him. I'm sure Lynx-O is dying to see him!" She laughed, and her gaze fell back on him. "I bet you thought it wouldn't end this way, Panthro. You, the mighty warrior, fallen victim to brains instead of brawn."

He stared up at her, hardly believing what was happening. "How can you do this?" he said. "You were a Thundercat, Cheetara."

"Exactly. I was a Thundercat. I never expected to be betrayed by my friends. It's not a nice feeling."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was dimly aware of a gathering gloom. It was as if someone was putting a house to bed, turning out the lights one by one. He recognised it as the approach of death, and tried to fight it, as he had fought so many opponents in the past who had promised his demise. But this was different. The more he struggled, the more it tightened its grip on him until all the lights were finally extinguished.

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

"Sugar. That's secret of a good candy berry pie."

"Yes, Uncle Snarf," said Snarfer, rolling his eyes and sighing. He had finally found him about a mile from the Lair making his way back from the Berbil village. Snarf had grumbled about the lack of transport to get him home, complaining of his aching legs, back, feet and arms in various combinations, and had then taken to passing the time by going into great detail about what he was going to do when he got back to the Lair. Interspersed with cooking tips was fretting about his charge. At least half a minute had passed since the last time. Snarf was due for another lengthy fret any moment now.

"You mark my words, Snarfer, plenty of sugar. Brrr, did Pumyra say how bad he was?"

Right on cue, Snarfer thought. "She said he was a little better. Don't worry, Uncle Snarf. We'll be there soon. Then you can see for yourself."

"I do worry," said Snarf. "He's my responsibility, Snarfer. How could I have let this happen to him?"

"It wasn't your fault. Someone or something attacked him."

"And I should have been there to stop it, snarf, snarf." He wandered on in silence, and Snarfer could tell that his worries were eating away at him. "Anyway, as I was saying. Pastry. That's the secret of a tasty candy berry pie."

"What? You said it was sugar a minute ago."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, sir, yes you did, snarfer, snarfer."

Snarf muttered to himself about the younger generation having no respect for their elders, and Snarfer was about to protest when he noticed a cloud of dust coming towards them. "Look at that," he said. "What d'you think that is?"

"It's the Thundertank," Snarf said, brightening a little. "About time too. Oh, my poor knees."

The tank screeched to a halt yards away from them. The cabin roof flew back and Tygra gestured to them to get in. "Quickly," he said. "We don't have much time."

Despite Tygra's urgings, Snarf seemed to take his time getting in, so Snarfer gave him a boost. Snarf almost flew through the air and ended up sprawled on the front seats.

"Weeow, watch what you're doing, young Snarfer," Snarf grumbled. He tried to sit up, only to fall over again, when Tygra swung the Thundertank around and set off.

"Sorry, Uncle Snarf," said Snarfer. "But you heard what Tygra said."

"I heard him," Snarf said, rubbing a sore patch on his backside. "What are we in such a hurry for anyway?" He gave a small gasp. "It's not Lion-O, is it? Weeow, curse my old bones--"

"Shush a minute, Snarf," Tygra said. While one hand managed the tank's controls, his other was fiddling with the on-board sensors. "Seems to be all right," he murmured. "We aren't being followed."

"Followed?" Snarfer squeaked. "By whom?"

"What's happening?" Snarf wanted to know.

Tygra kept his eyes firmly fixed on the track ahead. All the same, Snarfer could tell by the tight set of his jaw that something was troubling him.

"I've just come from the Tower of Omens," he said. "I found..." He checked himself and took a deep breath. "Lynx-O is dead."

"What? How?" Snarf spluttered.

"He'd been killed, Snarf. His throat had been torn out."

Snarfer clapped a hand over his mouth. He felt sick, repulsed, horrified. Lynx-O was a friend, always ready to lend an ear whenever he felt the need to talk. Now he was gone. "Who did this?" he asked.

"Cheetara."

For a moment, he thought he hadn't heard right. That Tygra had said the name of a demon and his muddled brain had confused it with... "Did you just say...?"

"Cheetara, yes."

"But, Tygra, she's... dead," said Snarf.

"I checked the internal cameras. There's no doubt about it. She also used one of our secret access codes to gain entry. This is no clone. It is Cheetara."

"But why would she hurt Lynx-O?"

Tygra shook his head. "After you left, Snarfer, Bengali told us Lion-O had said that she wasn't dead. In light of what's happened, I'm inclined to believe he knew exactly what he was saying. Cheetara wasn't dead when we buried her. Whatever happened to her since then has turned her mind. She now sees us as the enemy."

Snarfer suddenly realised that they were no longer on a heading for the Lair. "Where are we going?"

"We need help. The only person I can think of is Mumm-rana."

"Shouldn't we go back to the Lair?" Snarf queried. "Brrr, what if Cheetara goes there?"

"She already has," said Tygra. He pushed the communicator button several times and was met with a wall of static. "Same as the Tower. Long range scanners show that the Feliner is back. Someone should be there to answer it. No, our only hope now lies with Mumm-rana."

"What about the Sword of Omens?" said Snarfer. "If you think that Lion-O and the other Thundercats are... gone, well, won't it work for you?"

In answer, Tygra extended his arm and called for the Sword to come to his hand. Snarfer found himself holding his breath, waiting for the moment when the Sword would come streaking through the cold night air. An age of waiting later and still nothing had happened. Tygra withdrew his hand.

"Seems to me that either she's left Lion-O alive to confound our attempts to use the Sword, or it's been destroyed."

"The Sword of Omens destroyed?" said Snarf. "That's impossible."

"Not so impossible, Uncle Snarf," said Snarfer. "Remember you told me about what happened with that other sword, Excalibear."

"Excalibur," Snarf corrected him. "That was a bit different, Snarfer."

"Yes, but..." Another thought suddenly struck him. More than just Lynx-O's message had sent Tygra out to the Tower that night. "Did you find the twins?" He saw the expression on Tygra's face, saw his small, dejected shake of the head, and knew that they too were gone. Tears welled up in his eyes and he gave in to his grief.

Snarf put an arm around him. "I know," he purred consolingly. "I'm sure Mumm-rana will be able to put everything right, snarf, snarf."

"But she can't bring people back from the dead, can she?"

"Don't be too sure about that. I've seen some things in my time that would make you think anything is possible. We'll be all right, won't we, Tygra?"

He was about to reply when suddenly he gasped and clutched his side. The Thundertank veered violently across the track, sending the two Snarfs sprawling. Snarfer pushed himself up and feeling dampness on his face, wiped his paw across his cheek. A smear of blood showed on his fingers.

"What on Thundera was that?" Snarf complained as he clambered back onto the seat. "I'm getting too old for all this. Tygra, what are... you..." He trailed off, and Snarfer followed the direction of his gaze. Tygra was breathing hard, with one hard clasped to his side, whilst the other fought the controls to bring the wildly-spinning tank under his command. Snarfer scrambled over to help him and eventually the tank levelled out and came to a halt.

"What is it?" Snarf asked hesitantly.

Tygra gingerly removed his hand. Blood glistened on ragged shards of white bone that protruded from his side, and between the broken shafts gleamed red bubbles. Snarfer almost gagged.

"You have to go," Tygra said with difficulty. "She's coming. I can't take you any further."

Snarf made worried, flustered noises. "Brrr, we can't leave you, Tygra. You're hurt."

"Yes, you can leave me. It's not far now to the White Pyramid. You can make it."

"But what about you?"

Tygra glanced down at his injury. "Don't worry about me. Now go, quickly," he urged. "Cheetara's psychic abilities must have increased. If she could do this at a distance, what she can do close up doesn't bear thinking about." He coughed and blood showed on the hand that he had used to cover his mouth. "Go," he said weakly. "Find Mumm-rana. It's our only hope."

Snarfer stared at him helplessly, feeling torn between staying and leaving, not knowing what to do for the best. But then Snarf grabbed his hand and hauled him out of the Thundertank.

"Come on, Snarfer," he said. "We got a job to do, snarf, snarf."

"We can't leave Tygra," Snarfer protested.

"We have to. Now come on!"

He bounded away into the night. Snarfer ran after him, and presently the White Pyramid appeared, faintly glowing in the gloom. Snarf did not stop, and instead increased his pace. Snarfer was about to call after him to question the lack of a visible entrance when suddenly Snarf vanished. Snarfer ground to a halt and looked about in bewilderment. Then, in a second, the world changed around him and he found himself surrounded by four walls.

"Neat," he murmured.

He would have stood gawping forever had Snarf not grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and made him hurry along. As they passed beneath great statues bathed in light, Snarfer became aware that they were not alone. His eyes travelled to the other side of the Pyramid, where a figure swathed in bandages and cloaked in blue material had suddenly appeared.

"Greetings, Thundercats," said Mumm-rana. "What brings you to see me?"

Snarf dropped Snarfer and gave a little bow. "We've got big problems, Mumm-rana."

"Yeah, real big problems," Snarfer added, only for Snarf to cuff him into silence.

"It's our friend," said Snarf. "Cheetara. She's gone mad, snarf, snarf. She died, you see, but she wasn't dead, and we buried her and... oh, weeow, what are we to do, Mumm-rana? You've got to help us."

Mumm-rana blinked and her eyes filled with a warm glow. "I see death," she murmured. "I see Cat's Lair, bathed in the blood of your friends. I see..." She cried out and almost collapsed. Snarf and Snarfer rushed to her side to support her. She put a hand shakily to her head and closed her eyes. "Mumm-ra," she said. "He is dead, and his evil acolytes with him. The Ancient Spirits of Evil are no more."

"Isn't that a good thing?" said Snarfer.

Mumm-rana shook her head. "Not when they have been replaced by something much worse." Still shaking her head and muttering under her breath, she got unsteadily to her feet. With arms outspread, she appealed to the Ancient Spirits of Goodness. Snarfer cast a few uncertain glances at Snarf as Mumm-rana underwent a transformation from bandaged fragility to muscular vitality.

"Are you sure about her?" he whispered to his uncle. "She seems a bit loopy to me."

"Shush, Snarfer," Snarf said. "Watch and learn. Mumm-rana will know what to do... I hope."

Snarfer shot him a sideways glance. Statements like that did nothing to boost his confidence.

Her transformation complete, Mumm-rana turned back to them. The expression on her face was sombre. "The world is out of balance," she said gravely. "Where there was order, now there is chaos. The Ancient Spirits have shown me all that has happened, as they will show you." She pressed her hands together and then slowly let them drift apart. Light glowed between her palms and started to form images as a scene was played out. "This is Mumm-ra's doing," Mumm-rana explained. "He has given your friend the power of chaos in the belief that he could use her to destroy the Thundercats. But chaos knows no bounds, and the evil that Mumm-ra sought has turned against him. Unless Cheetara can be stopped, all of Third Earth will succumb to the power of the master of chaos, the evil Lord Set."

"But we can stop her, can't we, Mumm-rana?" Snarf asked.

A faint smile lit her lips. "All things are possible," she said. "As it happens, the Lord of Goodness, the great god Horus, once destroyed Set in battle. Let it be so once again." Her hands closed around the light, giving it form. Before Snarfer's astonished eyes, the dancing colours became solid and he found himself staring at his own reflection. "Behold," said Mumm-rana. "The Mirror of Horus. By the power of goodness, let what has been done be undone. Let chaos be checked before it is born. Let--"

She staggered and cried out. The mirror fell from her hands and Snarfer just managed to catch it before it smashed onto the floor.

"What is happening to me?" Mumm-rana said, staring down at her body, from which plumes of smoke were starting to rise.

"I believe they call it dry rot," said an all too familiar voice.

Coming down the hall towards them was Cheetara, her eyes aglow and her mane dancing wildly around her head. Snarfer clutched at Snarf, and Snarf clutched at him. In front of them, Mumm-rana was slowly disintegrating. Her skin fell as flakes of dust to the floor, revealing her decayed innards. She screamed until her voicebox too crumbled. When her head hit the floor, it shattered into a thousand pieces and powdered the area with a fine white covering.

"Oh, dear," said Cheetara, grinning from ear to ear. "Mumm-rana left quite a mess. Does someone have a dustpan and broom?" The smile fell from her face as her gaze fixed on the two Snarfs. "Well, Snarf, snap to it. That's all you were ever any good for."

Snarf gulped and pushed Snarfer behind him. "We're not afraid of you, Cheetara," he said, in a quaking voice that betrayed his brave words. "We know what happened. Mumm-ra deceived you."

She laughed. "No, you stupid little rodent, you are deceived. You think you can help me? Make me good again? Wrong, pipsqueak. Cheetara is no more. She died when you and the other Thundercats buried her and left her to die. But I was reborn. I am the daughter of Set. My name is Chaos, and I call all evil to do my bidding!" Her hand shot out to them, the fingers rigid. Snarfer squeezed his eyes shut and waited for something nasty to happen. Instead, Cheetara chuckled. "Forgive me, I forget," she said. "Snarfs are devoid of evil. I'll have to do this the old-fashioned way."

So saying, she reached behind her and drew out a short sword. Snarfer had to take a second look before he was able to identify it as what was left of the Sword of Omens. Where there had been the Eye of Thundera was now a blackened hole. But the blade still shone as the light caught its fire-tempered edges, making Snarfer whimper when he thought of what she was going to do with it.

"Come here, furballs, and I'll make this quick," she growled. "If I have to chase you, I'll be very, very annoyed."

Snarfer was all for running, but Snarf remained firmly where he was. "Not so fast, Cheetara," he said. "We won't allow you to hurt anyone else."

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"This!" he yelled, wrenching the mirror from Snarfer's grasp and holding it up. For a moment, everyone held their breath, then Cheetara burst out laughing.

"Sorry, Snarf," she said. "Wrong evil-doer. It was Mumm-ra who couldn't stand the horror of his own reflection. You've had your chance. Now I'm going to kill you... slowly."

This time Snarf did back up, bumping into Snarfer and treading on his toes as he did so. Cheetara advanced, sword held at the ready.

"Just you two, and there will be nobody left to stand in my way," she said. "Chaos will rule supreme and my father will descend from the heavens to claim his earthly kingdom. Think of it. Third Earth without Mutants, or Lunatacs, or Mumm-ra, or Thundercats." Her eyes glistened with an evil light. "Oh, they're all dead. But do you know who it gave me the greatest pleasure of all to kill? Yes, your beloved Lion-O, Snarf."

They had gone as far as they could and had come up against a wall. Cheetara had them trapped, and now glowered down at them, relishing her victory.

"He didn't even fight me, Snarf," she went on. "And I called to the evil in him and he gave it up willingly. So much for your precious charge. Third Earth is well rid of him. I am well rid of him, as I am of you!" With a lightning movement, she lifted the sword and brought it slicing down. In the split second before it hit, Snarfer felt Snarf push him out of the way. Then both Snarfs scampered round her and took refuge behind one of the statues of the Ancient Spirits of Goodness.

"What are we gonna do?" Snarfer asked in hushed voice, lest Cheetara discover them.

"Weeow, I don't know, young Snarfer."

"We're all gonna die," he sobbed. "Yes, sir."

"Not if we can make this thing work," said Snarf. He peered into the mirror and gave it a good shake. "Silly thing," he muttered. "We used to get better than this as prizes at the funfair." As he spoke, a light breeze lifted the tuft of hair on his head and his mouth dropped open. Snarfer followed his horrified gaze and understood his reaction.

"Can't hide from me," Cheetara snarled as she stood before them. "Give it up, Snarf. At least die with dignity, even if your friends didn't."

"I don't believe you!" Snarfer yelled. The side of the blade came round and swatted him away. He tumbled into another statue and lay, half-dazed. Snarf hurried to his side and cradled him in his arms. The mirror dropped into Snarfer's lap and he glanced down at it. A large globule of blood smacked down on its shiny surface from a gash on his head.

"I'm bleeding!" he cried. "Oh, Ancient Spirits of Goodness, help us please!"

"Shut it, you tedious little toad!" Cheetara snapped. "And get rid of that odious mirror!"

Snarf took his arm from around Snarfer's shoulders and held the mirror up. "What this old thing?" he said, sounding suddenly confident. "Why should this worry you? It can't hurt you, can it? So it must have something to do with us, snarf, snarf."

"You wouldn't," she said.

Snarfer caught the trace of uncertainty in her voice. "We would!" he declared.

"You? You're afraid of death. Look at you now. You wouldn't willingly give up your lives."

"We would," said Snarf. "Just watch us, snarf, snarf!" He turned the mirror round, so that both he and Snarfer were staring at their reflections. Then, a terrible scream of rage filled the air and the world went blurry.

Snarfer blinked several times to get rid of the white blobs before his eyes and looked around. "Gee, Uncle Snarf, where d'you think we are?" he said, carefully fingering the wound on his head.

The thundercrack of an explosion almost deafened him. For a moment, Snarfer was sure that his brains were actually jangling about in his skull. Then, someone grabbed him by the tail and he was hauled into a bush. When he finally stopped moving, he glanced up and found that his rescuer was Lion-O.

"Snarf, Snarfer, what do you think you're playing at?" he demanded. "This is no time to be fooling around."

Snarfer found that he had no answer to that. He could only stare at Lion-O, dumbfounded.

"Anyway, be more careful in future," Lion-O went on. "That thing is dangerous." He pointed at something beyond the shelter of the bushes. Snarfer looked out and saw the same hovering blue orb that he had seen when Mumm-rana had shown them what had happened.

"Uncle Snarf," he whispered. "I think we've come back in time, yes sir."

"Yes, Snarfer, I think that's exactly what's happened," Snarf agreed. "Which means that any minute now... weeow, we have to stop it, snarf, snarf."

"But how?"

"Goodness, Snarfer, what happened to your head?"

He almost leapt out of his skin at the voice and soft touch of a hand on the side of his face. He spun round and was again shocked into silence. Cheetara was there, a concerned expression on her face.

"Are you two all right?" she asked, eyeing them curiously. Snarf opened and closed his mouth several times, but nothing came out. "Why don't you two go home?" she said. "You look like you took a nasty blow there. Look after him, Snarf."

Snarf shook himself out of his stupor. "Yes, will do," he said, grabbing Snarfer by the arm. "We're off, snarf, snarf. Only," he said, pausing, "look after yourself, Cheetara."

"You too, Snarf," she said, giving him a grateful smile before turning her attention back to the orb and the devastation it was causing to the Berbil village.

"What d'you do that for?" Snarfer protested, as Snarf dragged him away into another clump of undergrowth some distance from the other Thundercats.

Snarf looked to where Lion-O had just leapt up to grab Tygra and pulled him into the bush, and frowned. "We can't help them there," he said. "We have the advantage, Snarfer. We know what's going to happen. Weeow, we have to work out some way to put it right." He gave him a pat on the back. "You know that if we succeed, we won't be here any more."

"You mean, we'll be dead?" said Snarfer. "What, like, forever?"

"What happened won't have happened, if you see what I mean," said Snarf. "We will cease to exist, but ourselves here will carry on." He shrugged. "Everything will be all right, but we won't be here."

"Where will we be?"

"We won't have happened." Snarf held up his hands out of sheer exasperation. "Don't worry about it, Snarfer. It won't hurt."

As he finished speaking, the air began 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. The orb, confronted by this metal monster, suddenly sprang into life. Tygra and Lion-O rushed out to help Panthro, but could only stumble blindly into one another as the orb's blue glow intensified to such brilliance that it hurt the eyes. From the bush, Snarfer watched as the scene from his memory played out. The orb slowly changed into a humanoid shape, and its face took on a look of contempt.

"Time to act," said Snarf. "Any ideas?"

Snarfer bit his lip and racked his brains. His eyes fell on the mirror that Snarf still held and he almost yelped for joy. "The mirror!" he exclaimed. "From what Mumm-rana showed us, that orb out there is really Mumm-ra. He can't stand his own reflection!"

"Brrr, that's brilliant," said Snarf, looking out to where Lion-O was trying unsuccessfully to tackle the creature. "But how do we to get it to him without being fried?"

"You could throw it," Snarfer suggested.

"And risk breaking it?"

"I've seen you play Snarfball. You've got a great throw, yes sir. Like when you hit Osfred Snarf on the back of the head after he had knocked you over."

"Yes, but I was aiming for the goal," Snarf sniffed. "No, Snarfer, that's a bad idea."

"Then get one of the others to use it."

Snarf watched Panthro trying to soak the creature and shook his head.

"How about we just run out there?" Snarfer said. "We're fast enough--" Snarf's hand on his head pushed him roughly to the ground and smothered the rest of his suggestion. The earth beneath him shook as the Thundertank exploded and blew Panthro clean into the air.

"I was going to say that's a bad idea," said Snarf, picking himself up from the floor. "But it's all we've got." Tucking the mirror under his arm, he took a deep breath. "We can do this, snarf, snarf, or my name's not Snarf."

"It's not," said Snarfer. "It's Osbert."

"Yes, I know," Snarf grumbled. "I meant--"

Whatever he meant was lost as two speed demons barrelled into him. WilyKit and WilyKat were thrown from their spaceboards and ended up in an ungainly heap on the floor. Snarfer watched, unable to react, as time itself seemed to slow. On one hand, Snarf and the twins were sprawling. Above them, the mirror that had flown from Snarf's hands spun lazily in the air, going ever up before starting its downward spiral. From the corner of his eye, he just caught a bright white ball heading in their direction being chased by a streak of yellow light. And then he was tumbling over and over, hitting his head and knowing no more as the world around him went black.

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

Red against the brilliant blue of a Third Earth sky had spelt trouble when Tygra had first seen it. Now it meant a rush of energy through his body and the added power to tackle this creature. Whatever had happened when it had tried to blast the twins had caused the energy bolt to rebound. It had hit the creature head on, and it had started to scream and scrabble at its body as if trying to brush something away.

"Now, while it's stunned!" Lion-O yelled, sending the full might of the Sword of Omens' powers hurtling towards the creature. Tygra took great pleasure in backing him up, and their combined energies hit it with such force that it was knocked backwards. When the smoke died away, the creature had transformed into Mumm-ra in his withered mummy form. He seemed to be wrestling with something that glittered in his hands.

"What on Thundera...?" Lion-O began. "Hey, you!"

Hearing him, Mumm-ra's concentration faltered for a second. He shrieked as whatever he was holding fell onto his chest and seemed to melt into him. Mercifully, at that he vanished in a flash of light and they were spared any more of his terrified screams.

"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 did not seem too promising. Only when he felt her neck did he feel the reassuring thud of life.

"She's been knocked out, that's all," he said. "Can someone see if there's anything left of the medical kit in the Thundertank?"

Lion-O was back at his side shortly, holding a smouldering box. Lifting the lid, and wincing slightly as the hot metal burnt his fingers, Tygra took out a small bottle. He took out the stopper and held it underneath Cheetara's nose. Her breathing changed, becoming more irregular, and her head jerked away from the sharp odour of the smelling salts. She blinked, opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"What happened?" she asked groggily.

"That's what we'd all like to know," said Lion-O. "But, first, are you all right?"

"A bit dazed," she said, trying to sit up. "Ouch."

"Ouch what?" Tygra asked.

"My left foot. I think it's broken."

He pulled off her boot and cradled her foot in his hand, gently manipulating it to determine the damage.

"Well, it's not broken," he said.

"Feels like it is," she grumbled.

"It's probably only a sprain."

"A painful sprain, I'll have you know."

"You'll get no sympathy from me," Tygra teased her. "I've had a lot worse than this in the past."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, spare me."

He gave her a smile. "Just as long as you're all right." He got to his feet and went over to where Lion-O was consulting the Sword of Omens.

"That's interesting," Lion-O said, lowering the hilt from his eyes. "I had the Sword show me what that thing was that Mumm-ra was holding. It looked like a scorpion, but it was transparent, as though it was made of crystal or something." He shivered. "It looked like it was in that energy blast that Mumm-ra aimed at the twins. I hate to think what would have happened if it had bitten the twins."

"Most likely they'd be dead right now," said Panthro. "You're right. It doesn't bear thinking about. Still, Mumm-ra got what was coming to him. Serves him right."

"Hmm," said Lion-O. "The Pyramid seemed very quiet when I used Sight beyond Sight just now."

"He'll be back, don't doubt it," said Panthro. "Can't see a scorpion bite slowing him down for long."

"Although it didn't actually bite him, did it?" said Tygra. "It went inside him."

"Urgh," said Lion-O. "That's horrible." He shook the thought away and glanced around. "What happened to Snarf and Snarfer?"

"They were here," said WilyKit. "We knocked Snarf over."

"They've probably wandered back to the Lair in a daze," said WilyKat. "They won't know what we're talking about when we ask them later."

"I'm afraid that will be much later," said Lion-O with a sigh. "We've got to help the Berbils put their village back together first. You'd better give the Tower a call, Panthro. Tell them to get over here, if they're not already on their way."

"They'll love that," WilyKit sniggered. "I know Bengali and Pumyra were hoping for an early night."

"That's none of your business," Cheetara chided her.

"But it's true, and the Code of Thundera says we have to speak the truth."

"Maybe so, but there's still some things we don't talk about. But while we're on the subject of truth," she said, raising her voice so that Tygra could hear her, "my foot really hurts!"

"You bawled?" he said, moving back to where she still sat.

"Yes. Help me up."

"Certainly." Much to her annoyance, he picked her up and held her in his arms.

"I'm not that bad," she protested. "Let me down."

"Ah, so you were lying," he said. "If your foot hurt as much as you said it did, you would be very pleased right now."

She smiled. "Well, I am, sort of. Even if I do feel rather helpless."

"You mean I've got you where I want you?"

"Don't push your luck," she said. "So, are you going to carry me all the way home?"

"My pleasure," he said.

After telling the others he would be back shortly, he started off down the track in the direction of home. Cheetara rested her head against his chest and shut her eyes. He walked in silence, letting her rest, giving himself time to adjust to what had happened. Panthro had been right. What could have happened didn't bear thinking about. And it wouldn't have been the twins. As fast as she was, he had seen Cheetara put herself between them and the danger, knowing that she would bear the brunt of the impact. If that energy bolt hadn't bounced off something, she would now have Mumm-ra's scorpion inside her. She could have died. He could have lost her.

He held her a little tighter, as if to reassure himself that she was really in his arms. She stirred and looked up at him.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "You've gone very pale."

"Have I?" he said.

"Don't dwell on it," she said. "There's no point worrying about things until they happen."

"You could have been killed," he said in a hollow voice. "Or worse."

She seemed amused by his serious manner. "What's worse than being killed?" she teased him.

Losing you, he could have told her, yet two simple words would risk so much. Perhaps embarrassment, humiliation, rejection and a world of pain if she did not share his feelings.

"Let's hope we never find out," he said instead. "Come on, let's get you home."

The End

THUNDERCATS, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of © Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. and Ted Wolf. All rights reserved. Stories, characters and incidents mentioned in this work are entirely fictional. Characters, names, etc. are used without permission and the above story has no official endorsement. This is a work of fan fiction, for entertainment purposes only and certainly not for profit. No infringement of rights is intended nor any harm meant by its creation and existence. If this work brings a little happiness into this dreary old world, then so much the better. May you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Thundercats Forever! Ho!

Back to Fanfic Archive