Chapter 10: Off Day
The tank rumbled through territories and outlands, stopping at a different locale at the end of each day, and the cats had a few hours of ease before turning in for the night. Some nights Cheetara and Tygra shared a bed; they often made love, though sometimes they merely cuddled, falling asleep in each other's arms. More often than not, they slept apart. But no matter the arrangement, Cheetara dreamt with increasing regularity, and she began to worry. Her dreams were never frivolous, without meaning. They were often portents of things to come, and as they continued to disturb her sleep, the cleric grew more unsettled.
The ineffectiveness of their combat against Mumm-Ra's new generals, coupled with their inability to locate the next stone, also bothered her. Living in a tank and being constantly on the move did not allow them to drill consistently, and they needed to level up—badly. Cheetara said as much to Panthro, who agreed.
"We need at least an hour every day, more whenever we can," he said.
"There might be some resistance," Cheetara replied, rolling her staff.
Panthro scratched his head. "I'll talk to the king. You can handle the prince."
The staff glided back and forth between her hands, spinning faster and faster. "He won't be a problem," she told him. "Tygra knows what's at stake."
- o -
Cheetara sat on top of the desk in Jaga's workroom; the head cleric had summoned her; there was something she needed to know. The room was much changed from the way she remembered it. The half walls with windows reaching a glass ceiling were gone; no barrier prevented anyone from walking out over the edge, dropping hundreds of feet to the ground below. The wind grabbed at her hair, whipping it about her head. She could smell a storm brewing even though the sun was brilliant and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. The minutes ticked by, and she drummed her claws against the desktop impatiently.
Suddenly Jaga was beside her, bending over her ear, whispering his secret. Cheetara strained to hear; she sensed it was important, but his voice seemed muffled, and her attention was divided because Tygra was there, too. On his knees between her legs. She heard cloth ripping, felt the air on her exposed flesh, and tried to cover herself. Jaga could not see her like this; he couldn't know how personal their relationship was. Am I ashamed of it? No, not of the relationship, but she didn't want Jaga to witness how unrestrained she was in Tygra's arms. His breath was warm on her nakedness; he grasped her hips, pulling her towards him. Tygra raised her shapely legs, resting them against his shoulders.
Jaga bellowed, "Cheetara of the Thundercats!"
She tore her eyes from her mate, tried to focus on the sorcerer and the words he was struggling to make her understand, but Tygra's lips were on her. Kissing. Gently sucking her pleasure bud. Cheetara inhaled sharply, Tygra's tongue slid inside her, and she sighed his name.
She was vaguely aware of others gathering behind the sorcerer-cleric. "It's no use," Nimrim whispered, leaning into Jaga.
Tygra's tongue worked its magic, and her body quivered. She grabbed fistfuls of his fur, pulling him closer. Whimpers of pleasure bubbled in her throat.
Hafsa turned to Jaga and sneered. "Do you believe me now?"
Cheetara's orgasm slammed into her, twisting her inside out; she cried out Tygra's name. He rose and pushed the cleric down on the desk, mounting her. Hafsa sucked in her breath.
Tygra took his time; her head fell back, eyes squeezed tight as he claimed her. She dug her heels into his rear, clawing at his back. His mouth captured hers; she tasted herself on his tongue. The wave of sensation overwhelming her was heady; she couldn't last much longer. Tygra's growl, untamed and savage, pulled at the core of her and bounced off every hard surface as he poured into her. She climaxed again.
"Ffffuck! I love you so much!"
Cheetara wasn't sure if it was she or Tygra who'd uttered the expletive.
Jaga's nostrils flared indignantly; the smell of their coupling assaulted him. The onlookers began to melt away, all except the master sorcerer. His unyielding visage dominated Cheetara's field of vision, his voice suddenly clear in her ears.
"You are not alone. Find the others."
Cheetara bolted upright and pushed the bedcovers aside; beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Tygra stirred beside her.
"What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Cheetara's voice was breathless, unsteady; her body was still reacting to the dream. "Go back to sleep, love."
The following morning arrived clear and bright; it was an off day, meaning they would not be on the road. Days like this were usually swallowed up by chores, equipment maintenance, research, and training. All activities the kittens were not interested in after being cooped up for several days. So, when no one was looking, they escaped into the woods. They'd only gone a short distance when Kit's nose scrunched up at an unpleasant odor.
"What's that smell?"
Kat pinched his nostrils against the offending scent. "I don't know!"
He bounced across a narrow wooden bridge that was little more than a plank stretched above a creek, dark and stagnant, the apparent source of the stench.
"Ew!" Kit could almost taste the stink; her fluffy tail drooped.
She scurried across the bridge, stepped onto hard earth, and ran past her brother through tall, straight pines standing sentinel until she could breathe easier. Kat caught up to his sister, now gazing up at the foliage swaying gently in a breeze high above their heads. She seemed mesmerized.
"Come on!" he grabbed her hand impatiently.
- o -
A cloaked and hooded figure stood atop the ruins of a once-grand building; its moonstone walls broken and shattered. Those that hadn't crumbled completely bore black streaks from the smoke and fire that had decimated the structure. The figure raised a paw, moved it circularly while searching far afield, focusing on distant lands. Various panoramas and animal groups shifted before a magical gaze hidden behind milky, blind eyes. There'd been whispers (mostly hopeful, without proof) that Claudus's sons had survived the fall of Thundera. If that were true, they still had a king, and she needed to find him.
Long minutes passed before she saw something promising, a monstrous machine roaring across a forlorn vista she did not know. Her brows furrowed as she pushed harder, penetrating its metal skin to get a glimpse of the occupants inside—a panther, the tiger prince. Her magical sight swept past them, moved to another compartment where she saw him, Lion-O, the king.
A rush of excitement coursed through her. By the gods, the rumors were true! He lived. She began to pull back but hesitated when the cat at his side came into view. A cleric! The opaque veil cleared from the sorceress's eyes; she saw only the damage and destruction surrounding her once more. She bent over, arms wrapped around her middle; the energy expended affected her physically, but she brushed weakness aside. She had to tell the others what she'd seen.
- o -
The striking stick sliced through the air; its speed and momentum made it a deadly projectile; still, it wasn't a match for the branch-like fingers of Cheetara's staff. The wooden tendrils pinpointed the target, coiling tightly around it; the cheetah pulled hard, jerking the weapon free of Panthro's hand. Undaunted, the general sprang into the air, one tree trunk-like leg extended, intent on knocking his slim opponent off her feet. Cheetara ducked and evaded the attack, moving swiftly to one side. She charged the big cat, but he made no attempt to move; instead, he flung a thick arm in her path and sent her pinwheeling through the air.
The staff appeared in the cheetah's hand, primeval wood expanded, digging into the ground. Cheetara pole-vaulted backward, sailing over Panthro's head; she kicked him hard in the center of his back. The general fell forward, plowing into the hard-packed earth. He grunted loudly, the wind knocked out of him. Invisible arms closed around the cheetah; she threw her head back, crashing into Tygra's chin. Striped arms materialized along with the rest of the handsome cat; he staggered back, a kaleidoscope of color erupted before his eyes. Cheetara advanced on him, throwing a combination of punches which the tiger avoided, blocked, and turned aside. Finally, he caught both her arms and hurled her over his shoulder. The cleric landed gracefully, but he pounced immediately, pinning her beneath him.
Cheetara struggled to gain purchase but found it nearly impossible to shove him off when the nunchucks cracked across his back. Tygra growled, turning away, and she took advantage of the distraction, springing to her feet. The male cats faced off; Tygra's whip hissed wickedly before wrapping around Panthro's legs. The general found himself lying in the dirt a second time.
Panthro's eyes narrowed. Climbing to his feet, he released his motor-powered arms, battering Tygra with a one-two punch—one to the face, the other to the chest. The general spun around, surprisingly swift considering his bulk, and grabbed Cheetara from behind. He wrapped massive hands around her throat, and her mind raced back to the attack on the mountainside. Lights exploded in her head; she elbowed the panther hard in his gut and his grip loosened enough for her to slip from his grasp. Cheetara's raised hand aimed for his face; sparks shot from her splayed fingertips, blinding the big cat.
She ran at him, clasping her hands together; she struck Panthro hard in the face, bringing all her weight to bear. His head snapped right, then left. The staff was in her hand before he could recover, and the general was airborne again. Panthro collided heavily with the ground; puffs of dirt floated up around him. A clangorous sound interrupted the fighting, jarring Snarf awake. The combatants stood down.
"Whiskers!" Lion-O bolted to his feet, tossing the misshapen bell aside. "Anyone hurt?"
Panthro massaged the back of his neck and shot the cheetah a withering look. Was she trying to kill him? He hobbled over to the tank. "I'll live," he grumbled.
Cheetara ignored the question. "We have to train harder." She tucked her staff away.
Tygra rubbed his chin; it was sore and beginning to bruise.
"I don't like being blindsided." I need to make use of all my skills. Aloud, she said, "I need to be less disciplined."
"Was that magic?" Lion-O hadn't seen the cleric use anything resembling magic before and didn't know she could.
Cheetara tossed her hair over her shoulder; she seemed different. Focused. Hard. Tygra rolled his shoulders and squinted at her but remained quiet. Lion-O bounced on his toes, shrugging off the cleric's disposition; his eyes darted to his brother, and he tapped the Sword of Omens.
Tygra dipped his head. "Why not?"
Panthro tossed a blade in Tygra's direction; the sun glinted off the metal as it rolled tip over hilt in a lazy spiral. The grip settled in Tygra's outstretched hand as if coming home. He cut through the air a few times, testing its balance before turning to Lion-O, and the blades met in a symphony of sparks and high-pitched singing.
Cheetara took up the king's former position on an equipment container to watch the brothers. Lion-O's footwork and moves were getting better; still, it would be some time before he could claim to be the better swordsman. Tygra was bold, clever, and unpredictable with the blade, but practicing with the older royal would only improve the lion's skill. Snarf kept up an amusing display of mimicry; as the swordplay wore on, he gave up, crawled into Cheetara's lap, and promptly fell asleep.
The session ended when Lion-O lost his footing and was quickly disarmed. He yielded, and Tygra offered a hand, pulling the younger cat upright.
"Not bad," Panthro said approvingly.
Tygra threw an arm across his brother's shoulder. "You almost had me there once or twice."
Panthro took Tygra's sword, patted the young lord on the back, and disappeared inside the tank. Lion-O grinned broadly despite himself. Not so long ago, getting approval from Tygra was next to impossible. But ever since the trials, his brother had become more complimentary. And…it meant a lot. Lion-O retrieved his sword, caught a whiff of his underarm, and decided a shower was in order, leaving the couple alone.
Tygra settled beside Cheetara; she noticed the bruise and touched his chin gently.
"Let me put something on that."
"It's fine," he said, pulling his face away. "Magic?"
Her eyes darted away from his. "It was part of my training."
"Why haven't you used it before?"
Cheetara stiffened. His question felt accusatory. "I have," she said defensively, "with my staff. The other is little more than parlor tricks. Your magic is likely stronger than mine."
He scoffed. "My magic?"
"Yes, your magic," Cheetara snapped. "Unless you think becoming invisible is technology."
Tygra blinked, caught off guard by her tone. She stared at him; her kissable mouth set in an uncharacteristic hard line.
He drew in a long breath. "Actually, I've never thought about it," he said carefully.
"Not surprising."
Tygra frowned. Is she trying to pick a fight? "What is wrong, Cheetara? You've been a little edgy lately and not in a good way."
Between her concern over having their tails handed to them twice, the fruitless search for the next stone, and her disturbing dreams, she was moving into hypervigilant territory. And magic wasn't the only thing she hadn't shared; there was also the matter of her dreams.
Cheetara didn't know why she'd been reluctant to tell Tygra about her dreams; he was, after all, her mate. But the few times she'd talked about her gift in Tabbetown hadn't been received well, so she'd learned as a child to guard that part of herself with everyone except Nana and, later, Nimrim. She supposed it had become second nature. Still, she had bound herself to Tygra; she couldn't keep this hidden from him.
She jiggled her foot nervously, waking Snarf in the process.
"There's something else you don't know about me."
He cocked his head, brows knitted. "What?"
"I—I have visions. They come to me in the form of dreams."
Tygra drew a deep breath. Okay. He'd always thought there was more to Cheetara than speed and beauty, something mystical. He'd sensed it the day they met but had never put a name to it, much like he'd never questioned his ability to vanish.
"All right," he said at length. "Tell me what's bothering you."
"I think others survived the fall of Thundera," her voice was soft, "maybe even some clerics."
His eyes widened. "Survivors?"
"Yes, and that's not all. I saw Lion-O. First, in some kind of cell, then bloodied and beaten."
Tygra growled low in his throat, a thundercloud settled over his face. "What!?" This was too much. His voice erupted, harsh, demanding. "Where? How?"
Cheetara recoiled from his response, suddenly vulnerable. "I don't know, Tygra. Sometimes my visions are clear and easy to understand. Most times, they're disjointed images, like the pieces of a puzzle." She sighed, stroking Snarf's head. "I wish I could give you details, something concrete, but I can't. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but it's a gift most cats don't take kindly to."
Tygra regretted his reaction immediately, realizing she'd misunderstood him. He wasn't angry with her, and it wasn't her gift he was reacting to; it was how she'd seen Lion-O and the feeling of helplessness it triggered in him. He softened as quickly as he'd exploded.
"I'm not most cats, Cheetara. I love you. Unconditionally." He bent over her hand and placed a sweet kiss upon it. "I'm not angry with you. I don't react well to feeling helpless."
Cheetara's mind returned to her primary concern. "Kanar and Atticus aren't like the lizard army. They're sadistic, and they enjoy killing. We have to change our tactics—the way we fight against them; otherwise…."
She didn't complete her thought; she didn't need to. Tygra knew what she meant. He nodded, his expression somber.
"Being bound up in my own whip with a dagger at my back is not something I want to repeat." He fell into a thoughtful silence before speaking again. "Are you going to tell Lion-O about this?"
"He should know there could be survivors."
"And the other?"
Cheetara sighed. "I don't know what I'd be warning him about."
"There's nothing you can do?"
"I can't force visions, Tygra. It doesn't work like that. And before you ask, no. I am not adept at magic. My skill is very, very basic."
Tygra squeezed her hand supportively. "I think you should tell him. You're the king's cleric. You don't want him to think you're keeping secrets from him."
"You're right," Cheetara half-heartedly agreed, setting Snarf on his feet. "I will."
- o -
The twins stepped out of the woods into a clearing dotted with little thatch-topped huts bustling with activity. The kittens shared a look of surprise.
"A village!" Kit chirped.
They bolted forward in their typical carefree, inquisitive manner into a group of sheeplike folks known as Bolkins. Everyone—men, women, and children—were short in stature and plainly dressed. The kittens hadn't met their kind before and were eager to make their acquaintance. A plump elder separated himself from the group. He was only slightly taller than the twins, had wooly steel-gray hair, sleepy brown eyes, and a passive expression.
"Hullo!" he called in a surprisingly robust voice. "Who are you?"
"I'm WilyKat, and this is my sister WilyKit. We're Thundercats." Kat held out his hand, which the elder shook enthusiastically.
"Hullo there, WilyKat, WilyKit. I'm Hurrick, elder in charge of this quaint hamlet."
A female appeared at Hurrick's side; she was twice as plump with bushy white hair. Her oblong face split into a welcoming smile, and she introduced herself as Pansy, the elder's wife.
"My goodness!" she bleated. "We've never seen cats in these parts. How'd you get here? Are you lost?"
"We're not lost," Kit told her, "we're exploring."
"And we're camped not far from here," Kat added.
"I see," Pansy smoothed her apron. "We're about to sit for the midday meal. Would you like to join us?"
Food was always foremost in the twins' minds, so they accepted the invitation happily. The Bolkins plied the kittens with cheese, bread, and a delicious vegetable stew while peppering them with questions. The Bolkins were far away from Thundera and curious about Thundercats; they'd never heard of them before. The meal finished, the Bolkins children persuaded the kittens to stay a bit longer to play.
Kit and Kat hadn't been in the company of other children in what seemed to them like forever; the chance to spend a few hours running around having fun was not to be passed up. They played tag and leap froog, ran through obstacle courses made of toys, and blew soap bubbles into the air. The sun was sinking lower in the western sky, and cook fires were being built when the twins finally said goodbye to their new friends.
"That was fun!" Kat laughed as they scooted toward the woods.
"It was," Kit agreed, "but we've been gone a long time. I hope they aren't worried."
Kat sniffed. "Cheetara and Panthro left us alone in the woods to hunt, remember?"
"WilyKat, that was different! We didn't tell them we were leaving or where we were going."
Kat stuck his chin out stubbornly. "We can take care of ourselves."
Kit bit her lip. Sometimes Kat could be a butthead, and this was one of those times. "Let's just hurry back," she said. "I don't want to be out here in the dark."
- o -
Lion-O and Panthro huddled in the control deck, staring at the Book of Omens.
"I don't understand," Lion-O said, throwing his hands in the air. "The book is still pointing up, but there's nothing up, just open sky."
"Maybe it's broken," the general suggested, planting himself into one of the captain's chairs.
Lion-O tilted his head, regarding the book from another angle. "I don't think so."
Cheetara walked into this quandary, carrying a steaming mug which she handed to Panthro. "Have you tried Sight Beyond Sight?"
"Without success," the ginger cat replied, leaning against the counter housing the Book of Omens. "I even tested it to make sure it wasn't me."
Panthro eyed the mug Cheetara gave him suspiciously. "What's this?"
Other than herself, Panthro was arguably the strongest fighter in the group. He was also as physically intimidating as the jackal and monkey, brutes she needed to be better than, so she'd concentrated on him during their drill.
"Something to ease your pains. I was tough on you today."
Panthro sniffed the liquid in the mug; it was fragrant, but he had no idea what it smelled like.
"It's only tea with a blend of herbs," Cheetara's mouth quirked upward in amusement. "It'll help you sleep tonight, too."
Panthro took a small sip. The liquid was warm and pleasant on his tongue; a soothing sensation was left behind as it rolled down his throat. He gave the cleric a lopsided smile.
Cheetara patted Panthro's arm and stepped around him to join Lion-O, who was still studying the book. She'd given some thought as to how she should broach the subject of survivors while brewing Panthro's tea. She leaned toward him, keeping her voice light.
"Have you ever thought there could be survivors of the fall, maybe tried looking for them with Sight Beyond Sight?"
Lion-O's head snapped toward her. "That's quite the subject change," he said, the hint of a frown tugged at his mouth.
"Recently, I've come to believe—"
She was interrupted by a frantic commotion outside the tank. Panicked shrieking and yelling disturbed the early evening peacefulness, followed by ferocious snarls. The cats hurried from the control deck, spilling out of the tank just as Kit and Kat burst from the woods, an enormous creature hard on their tails. The kittens dropped to all fours, yelping as they ran for the tank.
Thundercats positioned themselves for a fight. Lion-O drew the Sword of Omens, Cheetara twirled her staff, assuming a battle stance, and Panthro gripped his nunchucks, ready to strike. The cleric's staff expanded outward, root-like vines stretching forward to fend off the beast when Tygra appeared, laser pistol drawn. The terrified twins dashed between the cheetah and lion, tears and snot streaming down their faces.
The Comolbur, a massive beast that looked to be a fusion of several hideous creatures, paused long enough to fix its malevolent orange eyes on the tiger blocking its path. Its mouth fell open, revealing a row of sharp teeth; the beast pawed at the ground, talon-like claws gouged deep ruts in the earth. It snorted, clearly not impressed by the cats standing between it and dinner.
Lowering its massive dung-colored head, the Comolbur growled and charged. Tygra stood firm and fired a succession of shots, each one hitting the beast between its squinty eyes. Thick, muscular legs kicked and flailed, and the creature roared in agony; the momentum of its charge carried it forward even as it thrashed about in the final throes of death. The monstrous beast finally slid to rest inches from Tygra's feet.
The kittens flung themselves at Lion-O and Cheetara, still wailing and crying over their close call.
"I told you something was out there!" Kit screeched between heaving sobs.
"I said run!" Kat sniffed, bawling even louder.
Panthro rolled his eyes, stifling a yawn. "Enough with the drama. You're alive."
"It's okay," Cheetara soothed, stroking Kit's head. "You're safe now."
"Luckily," Tygra said, holstering his pistol. "Where've you two been all day?"
"And what were you doing?" Panthro wanted to know.
Kit wiped her leaky nose with the back of her hand. "We found a village on the other side of the woods—"
"And spent the day with the Bolkins," Kat finished, wiping his eyes.
Lion-O was confused. "What are Bolkins?"
Panthro was more concerned with the shirking of responsibilities.
"Why did you leave in the first place? You could have helped around here."
"You can't just run off like that," Tygra chided.
"It was a bit careless," the king admitted, easing out of Kat's death grip.
Kit's face screwed up again, and Cheetara could see she was ready to unleash more tears and snot. Kat resisted doing the same, though his lower lip quivered from the effort.
"Stop." Her jeweled gaze swept over Tygra, Panthro and Lion-O, strongly suggesting they back off. "This isn't helping. We can talk to them later."
She ushered the twins inside the Sabertank, leaving the males staring after them.
"One minute she's warrior woman; the next she's protective mama cat," Panthro grumbled.
Tygra shrugged; the general didn't know the half of it where his sweetheart was concerned. Lion-O swallowed a laugh. Unable to resist the effects of Cheetara's tea and getting no support from the brothers, Panthro surrendered.
"I'm going to bed," he said and wandered off to his pad.
Lion-O pointed to the dead beast. "We need to get rid of that."
"Wonder what it tastes like," Tygra thought aloud.
- o -
Cheetara calmed the kittens down, washed their faces, then settled them in the common area. She gave them something to eat before gently reprimanding them in quiet, patient tones.
"We hadn't scouted the area, and you didn't know what dangers lurked in and around the woods. Things might have ended very differently if you hadn't been close."
"We're sorry, Cheetara," the twins said contritely in unison.
"It won't happen again," Kit promised.
"The Bolkins were the nicest," Kat persisted, determined to share the events of the day. "Don't you want to hear about them?"
Cheetara smiled indulgently. "Of course."
She listened attentively as the kittens talked over each other, giggling, their earlier fright seemingly forgotten. They described the Bolkins in detail and told her about the fun they'd had playing with the children in the village.
"I wish you all could meet them," Kat confessed. "They sure were curious about us Thundercats."
Cheetara cleared away the bowls and cups from the kittens' meal. "That would be up to Lion-O, but now let's get you two into bed. You've had a day."
The twins didn't argue and trotted off to their pads. Cheetara tucked Kit and Kat in their beds and returned to the common area, where she found the brothers attending to their respective weapons. Lion-O polished the sword's blade with care while Tygra was putting his pistol together after a thorough cleaning. Both looked up when she entered.
"Everything okay?"
"Yes." Cheetara leaned over Tygra; she pressed her cheek against his, and he smiled at her adoringly when she sat beside him.
Remembering they'd been interrupted earlier, Lion-O asked, "So…why did you ask about survivors?"
Cheetara's eyes slid to Tygra; he winked reassuringly, and she tilted toward Lion-O.
"I've been having dreams, visions if you will, and some may have escaped after the fall."
"You've had dreams?" Lion-O's eyebrows rose. "You think there might be survivors?"
"I know how it sounds, Lion-O, but I've had dreams that turned out to be more than dreams since I was a child. And Jaga has appeared to me; he said I wasn't the only one."
Lion-O's eyes stretched wide, and his mouth formed an O. He looked from Cheetara to Tygra then back again.
"Not the only what? Not the only cleric?"
"Very possibly." Cheetara moved from Tygra's side and approached Lion-O. "The point is our people are out there somewhere, and they need their king."
Lion-O pushed away from the table, found his feet, and stepped away from the cleric. "A king without a land, a king who can provide nothing for his people," he said without rancor.
"Thundera was destroyed," Tygra admitted, his long legs making short work of the distance between him and Cheetara, "but it's still our land. In time, it can be rebuilt."
After Thundera's fall, Lion-O had been too bitter and angry to think of anything other than revenge. Later, he'd grasped the importance of following Jaga's final instructions to find the Book of Omens. Neither situation allowed him to think others might have escaped Thundera during Mumm-Ra's attack. He'd always been open to new ideas, new information, so even though Cheetara's vision seemed incredible, he considered the cleric's revelation and gave it weight. He would be thrilled to find some of his people alive.
"If that's all you can tell me, Cheetara," he pushed a hand through his flaming mane, "we need to try something else."
The king cleared his mind and concentrated on the place he wanted to see. He raised the sword, peering through the curving apertures.
"Sword of Omens, give me Sight Beyond Sight."
The sword's energy hummed through the war stone, waking its eye in a burst of radiance. The sword's view expanded, then contracted to show Lion-O the ruins of Thundera's royal palace and nothing more. No clerics. No people. Nothing. The image vacillated and faded; the eye dimmed, and the sword fell silent.
He felt the weight of their eyes on him as he lowered the sword.
"Well?" Tygra pressed. "What did you see?"
Lion-O blew out his cheeks, shaking his head, disappointment stark on his face.
"Nothing?" Cheetara wasn't entirely surprised.
"Only the burned-out shell of our former home."
She hesitated before touching his arm. "My dreams can be cryptic, like the book."
"Or maybe there aren't any survivors," Lion-O replied, anger crept into his voice.
"We don't know that."
"No, we don't, Tygra," Lion-O countered, "but the stones are my priority. We can't set that quest aside to look for survivors without evidence that there are actually survivors."
He couldn't ignore Cheetara's crestfallen expression or his brother's worried look, but he was king, and he'd decided. Unless the cleric could give him solid proof, they would have to accept his decision.
Lion-O returned the sword to the claw shield. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, leaving them alone for the second time that day.
Cheetara watched the king's retreat; discontent rippled through her. "This is why I keep my dreams to myself."
"Come on, babe," Tygra pulled her into his arms, hugged her close. "He didn't disbelieve you; he just needs proof."
"And Jaga told me to find them," she said, determined. "I don't need Lion-O for that."
Tygra leaned back, looked directly into her mesmerizing eyes. "What are you saying?"
She lifted her chin. "I can do this on my own."
He was stunned and had trouble believing his ears. "Cheetara, you can't. We can't divide our strength right now; it's dangerous. You know that."
She did know, but she felt duty-bound to see for herself, to make sure displaced cats were safe. "I won't be rash, Tygra, but if I'm shown something definite, I will look for them."
He really didn't like the sound of that. He needed more. "Is that all the assurance you can give?"
"It is."
Cheetara's voice was serene, but her resolve was unshakeable. He knew it and resigned himself to the fact. This was the woman he'd fallen in love with. Tygra sighed.
"Then I only ask that you don't go without letting me know."
She brought her face close to his until their noses touched and whispered, "You will always know, my love."