Chapter 13 – Is This A Date?
"The kittens are still in Dog City; you can rest in here." Lion-O pushed open the door to WilyKit's sleeping pad and stepped aside. "We'll start for Mount Plun-Darr in an hour or so."
Pumyra did not respond; she simply entered the cubicle and closed the door behind her. The young lord didn't know what he expected. A nod? A blink of the eyes? He stared at the door for a moment, not sure what to make of her, then walked away.
The puma sat on the bunk; yellow eyes swept over the small space. It was strictly functional. She resisted peering inside the drawer beneath the bunk, touching the blanket folded at the foot of it instead. She was surprised by the softness of the fabric. Pumyra tested the switch beside the bed; recessed lights in the ceiling blinked off, then on.
She wasn't tired and didn't like being confined in a space smaller than her cell at the pit, which had been spacious, almost palatial by comparison. The cat strained to hear beyond the sleeping pad's walls, but it was uncommonly quiet. She found her new environment unsettling, and since she wasn't a prisoner, she left.
Lion-O's body recovered quickly from its ordeal. The pain had all but disappeared, and his contusions were nearly healed. He wandered through the cabin. He wasn't tired either and was anxious to start the rescue mission when he saw light streaming from above and heard the soft murmur of voices. The ginger cat climbed the rungs to the control deck and saw Cheetara in his brother's lap; the tiger's hand was around her waist, the other rested casually on her knee. Their faces were almost touching; his brother seemed captivated by whatever she was telling him. While the scene wasn't compromising, it felt intimate all the same. The young king didn't want to intrude on them, but they sensed him before he could withdraw.
"Lion-O," Cheetara's pink eyes slid over to him, "how are you feeling?"
His cheeks reddened; he couldn't help feeling like a third wheel but kept his voice light. "Good as new."
"Well, don't just stand there," Tygra moved his hand from Cheetara's knee. "Have a seat."
His brother's even tone surprised him; the tiger didn't seem at all bothered by his arrival. The younger royal installed himself in the chair farthest away from them. "Sorry for the—"
"Interruption?" Cheetara turned in Tygra's lap. He blushed again, and she laughed. "It's fine."
The striped cat pounced as soon as the lion relaxed. "So, you want to tell us why you let the puma almost kill you?"
Lion-O felt his jaw tightening. "She had a grievance."
Cheetara and Tygra stared at him, waiting.
"Pumyra felt that we—that I—abandoned my people when Thundera fell. Cats died; others were sold into slavery."
The tiger snorted. "And that kept you from defending yourself?"
The king spread his hands as if pleading for a pass. "She didn't want to hear excuses, and I needed to show her I wasn't all talk."
Tygra frowned and bit his tongue, but Cheetara did not.
"Panthro was right. You can't keep putting yourself in danger or ignoring our advice."
Tygra gently jostled her from his lap and stood up. "I repeat, the puma nearly killed you. You've landed on your feet so far, going against the grain, but one of these days—"
"Your luck will run out," the cleric finished for him.
Lion-O sprang to his feet and began to pace. "Look, I understand your reluctance to welcome Pumyra, but she's one of us. She's fought to protect our people. She didn't know what happened or why I left, so I understand her anger."
"That doesn't justify what she did to you," Tygra argued, his dark eyes blazed. "You're not some backwater alley cat; you're her king!"
"And it doesn't excuse your decision to go to the pit alone when there was another option," Cheetara pointed out. "I can't protect you when you constantly take unwise risks."
"Our?" Lion-O scoffed. "Protect me?"
Cheetara felt herself getting angry. Is he trying to make this about what Tygra and I think?
"Our," she shot back. "Panthro, Tygra, and me. You may not have a kingdom, but I'm still a Guardian of the Crown. It's my duty to protect you. Panthro's still a seasoned general; Tygra is still your brother and a trained military tactician."
Lion-O knew she was right. Still, pride flared up, and his face hardened. "So, now you both have grievances? One with Pumyra and one with me?"
Cheetara and Tygra's eyes met; it was clear they were on the same page. "Yes," the prince replied.
Panthro appeared at that moment, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Looks like I'm missing a meeting of the minds."
"Not really," Tygra countered. "There seems to be only one mind here that matters."
The general had the distinct impression he'd walked into the middle of something, and Lion-O's next words confirmed it.
"If you want to complain about what happened in the pit and my reckless behavior going in alone to free Pumyra, general, I've heard plenty. We don't need to waste time rehashing."
Irritation gnawed at Panthro, and his lip curled. He was not used to being shut down before he even opened his mouth; it seemed the kid was returning to his old ways, pulling rank whenever he didn't want to hear what someone had to say. Panthro didn't like it, but he'd always been loyal and obedient to the crown. He wasn't going to change now. The big cat signaled compliance with a bob of his head and stepped aside.
They found Pumyra outside the Thundertank, staring off into the distance where Mount Plun-Darr loomed. She didn't acknowledge them; her posture was rigid, her face tight with anger. She suspected the others didn't share Lion-O's conciliatory attitude; their distaste was palpable. Pumyra squared her shoulders, more than ready for a confrontation. She side-eyed the cheetah; her manner was the least objectionable of the three, but the puma thought she was being judged all the same.
Cheetara's gaze wandered over Pumyra's profile, searching. The cleric wanted to get past the hostility radiating from her. She'd told Tygra something didn't feel right about the puma, and her feeling hadn't changed. But maybe what she was feeling had more to do with Pumyra's suffering than anything else. Cheetara resolved to keep an open mind.
There was no time to talk as Lion-O set an exacting pace from Dog City, but as they drew closer, Pumyra revealed the tyrannical leader of the Rats was determined to find the Sword of Plun-Darr. Legend had it that the sword had been buried deep within the mountain generations ago. Night was creeping toward dawn when the cats climbed the neighboring summit. Mount Plun-Darr was an unnatural mass; jagged, razor-sharp spikes reached up into the sky. Flame-red crystals, Thundrillium, jutted through fissures in the black rock; the skeleton of some unfortunate creature clung to its needle-like tips, a grotesque guard watching over the camp below.
The cats crouched low to avoid detection, but they needn't have worried. The rats weren't troubled by trespassers, and there weren't any guards posted; also, the sky above Plun-Darr remained bruised and dusky well after the sun had risen. Cries of pain mingled with the cold snap of whips. The rats didn't care if cats were maimed or killed; their master had bought enough of them to dig forever if need be.
"I can't stand to see our people treated like this," Cheetara lamented.
Pumyra had no patience for sympathizers. "Try living it," she snapped. "For months, I suffered lashings from those rodents. We gave up hope of being saved long ago."
All eyes turned toward Pumyra. She was certainly passionate, angry, and relentless. No one thought she was unjustified, only that she had one setting. Rage.
"Today, they will go free," Lion-O declared. "That's a promise."
"You say it's the Sword of Plun-Darr that old rat is digging for?"
Pumyra looked at Panthro, nodding her head in reply.
"If what I learned through the Book of Omens is true, its power rivals my own sword," Lion-O told them. "It may not matter if we get to the other stones first if Mumm-Ra finds that weapon."
Cheetara was instantly on her feet. "Then, while you free slaves, I'll take care of the sword."
"I'm coming with you."
"Don't think I can handle it alone?"
Tygra was surprised by the flirtatious lilt in her voice. He could count the times she'd flirted with him in front of the others; nonetheless, he liked it.
"Why would you want to when you can handle it with me?"
The look she gave him was for his eyes only. Why indeed?
Panthro rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother."
The king jumped to his feet, hurrying after the couple. He wanted to put their earlier disagreement behind them and planted himself in the cleric's path.
The corners of his mouth turned up in an easy smile. "Be careful."
Cheetara dipped her head and slipped past him with the slightest curve of her lips, but Tygra remained annoyed; he strode past his brother, giving him a frosty look. Lion-O's gaze lingered along with his smile, and Pumyra noticed.
They're together, she thought, summing up Tygra and Cheetara. But he has a thing for her, too, she noted, considering the lion's expression, and with that observation, Pumyra sauntered to Lion-O's side.
"You like her, don't you?"
Startled, Lion-O jumped. He did like Cheetara and always would, but not the way Pumyra was implying. Still, he was flustered.
"No! I mean—I'm over it."
To his surprise, she leaned closer, her eyes soft and her smile warm. "Maybe it's time you move on to someone else."
The young lord had never been more confused. Blue eyes opened wide over a mouth that dropped open in shock. What?!
The general's patience was exhausted by the younger cats' antics. "Enough flirting," he grumbled. "Let's do something about those slaves."
-v-
"I could have done this alone," Cheetara said as they zigzagged the mountain's twisting trail.
"I know you could," Tygra agreed; his voice was smoky, and he touched her cheek. "I just want to be with you."
She tilted her head; the look in her eyes pulled at him. "Is this a date?"
"As close to one as we can get for now," he chuckled.
Once they were inside the mine, they used their talents, speed and invisibility, to snag blankets the captive workers wore as robes and chained cuffs from a chest overflowing with them. Disguised as slaves, they joined a queue headed for the platform that would lower unlucky cats underground. Cheetara looked up, saw armed guards peering down at them, monitoring their progress.
"This is a terrible idea," she whispered.
"It's the surest way to get us to the dig site. You're fast, but speed wouldn't get you two hundred feet underground. Besides, these chains aren't even locked."
Before the cleric could react, an unpleasant voice called out to them.
"Hey, you two!"
Fearing they'd been discovered, they stopped, keeping their faces shadowed by the hoods covering their heads. A skinny rat detained them; he'd noticed their chains were unlocked. The rodent's rheumy eyes wandered over them, but seeing them submissive and avoiding his eyes, he assumed someone else had neglected to do their job. The rat pushed the cuffs together on their wrists. His narrow face split into a satisfied grin when the locks clicked into place.
"That's better. Wouldn't want you running off and getting hurt," he chortled, scurrying off.
Tygra choked back laughter. "Well, at least this will make our disguise more convincing."
Cheetara gazed at her shackled wrists. Unable to stay annoyed with him, she simply said, "You're lucky you're cute."
-v-
After formulating a rescue plan of sorts, Lion-O, Panthro, and Pumyra made their way furtively down the mountain and into the slave camp. Up close, the encampment was far worse than it looked from afar; it was little more than a shantytown. Tattered tents sprang up like ugly weeds at the foot of Mount Plun-Darr but sat higher than the terrain around it; the inhabitants meandered about listlessly, broken from the whip and hard labor in the mine. They wore the expressions of cats who'd been crushed and defeated.
Gyorg slumped against a wall. He closed his eyes and thought about the life he'd had before the fall, a life filled with a family he loved and work he enjoyed. It seemed almost a dream. Now all he had was back-breaking drudgery and the constant threat of the lash. Although Gyorg was in his twilight years, he'd never felt as old or as tired as he did these days. Inadequate rest, worse food, and exhausting days in the mine had taken their toll. He shifted against the stone digging into his back, trying in vain to find a comfortable position; a weary groan snuck past his lips.
Lion-O saw the old wildcat; pity and compassion coursed through him. He held a cup filled with water to the old cat's lips. "Here," he said, "drink this."
For a moment, Gyorg thought he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming; there weren't any kind voices in Mount Plun-Darr. The old cat opened his eyes, and his jaw dropped in shock.
"Lion-O!" His voice filled with reverence. "My king has returned." Gyorg clutched the lion king's hand. "They said you wouldn't come back; they said that you'd forgotten, but I never lost hope."
"I only wish I'd come sooner," Lion-O admitted, pressing the cup into his hand. "Drink."
The tin trembled between the elder's battered hands; he took a long thirst-quenching drink. Panthro bristled at the old cat's condition.
"Who did this to you?"
Gyorg's eyes narrowed to slits. "They did!" he snapped bitterly, directing their eyes across the camp where at that very moment, a rat was laying his whip against a hapless cat's back.
Pumyra's eyes blazed. She stepped forward, growling, ready to attack, but Lion-O stopped her. For once, he was thinking before blindly charging in.
"Stick to the plan," he told her, "and they'll all be free soon enough."
Pumyra jerked her arm free, charging full tilt toward the offending rat; Panthro and Lion-O exchanged looks before the ginger cat followed her lead.
Panthro threw his hands in the air. "Cripes!" So much for sticking to the plan! He shook his head and bolted after the others.
Pumyra threw the rat administering the whipping into a stack of crates. The male cats arrived in time to thwart a sneak attack on her by a couple of loitering guards.
"You rats make me sick!" she shrieked.
The rat, a malformed creature with a patch over one eye called Mordax, had no chance to gain his feet or protect himself; the feline pounced, landing a series of vicious blows to his face. Pumyra's rage was an inferno she couldn't contain; she wanted to tear Mordax to pieces. She intended to pound the rodent until he was nothing more than a mass of bloody flesh.
"Pumyra, enough!" Lion-O's arms closed around her waist, pulling her away from the rat, but the puma seemed possessed. She lashed out, shoving him violently into Panthro.
"Stay out of this!" she hissed. Instantly a dagger appeared in her hand, and she hoisted Mordax in the air. "I'm gonna make sure he never touches a cat again!"
Terrified, the rat squeaked, "I was only following orders!" He dangled mid-air, his feet flailing for purchase.
Pumyra's face was a mask of fury; she looked demonic. "Then I'll take care of the rat who gave them, too!"
She drew back her arm, ready to plunge the blade hilt deep in the rat's chest, but a firm hand wrapped around her wrist. Lion-O! Snarling, Pumyra strained against his grip, but his applied pressure did not relent; the knife fell to the ground. She spun around to face him, tails of hair whipping about her head.
Incredulous, she demanded, "What is this monster's life worth to you?"
"In Thundera, I freed a lizard who later did the same for me," Lion-O said patiently. "Sometimes mercy can be an even greater weapon than the sword."
The rage seemed to drain from Pumyra all at once; her features softened, the tenseness in her body relaxed. She dipped her head, seeming to acknowledge his authority over her.
"If you were anyone but king, that rat would be dead."
"Yeah, the kid's got a way of using that crown to get you to do all kinds of cockamamie things," Panthro said almost proudly, but the ginger cat frowned. "Oh, don't give me that look. I was joking."
A closer look revealed the cause of the young lord's pained expression. Temporarily forgotten, Mordax now had the upper hand. Lion-O felt icy, sharp steel pressed against his back. The king raised both hands.
"Drop your weapons," the rat ordered.
The big cat scowled; his nunchucks hit the ground, and he raised his hands. Pumyra followed suit, but she didn't look happy.
Lion-O shrugged, his expression and voice ironic. "Maybe he didn't hear my speech."
-v-
Having reached their destination, the cats huddled together, inches away from the gaping hole in the ground, dreading the moment the taskmaster would start the selection process. Who would be lowered into the bowels of the mine next? They did not have to wait long; the rats clearly enjoyed this part of their task.
"Who's up next?" Ullatec taunted. "Don't all jump at once. At the rate we're losing cats, you'll all get your chance. How about…"
His eyes roamed over random cats, lingering here and there, causing the frightened felines to quake fearfully when a pleasing, self-possessed voice put an end to the rat's fun.
"We'll go," Cheetara volunteered.
She and Tygra did not have to step forward; the others as a group stepped back, leaving them in plain view. Ullatec squinted at the figure; he couldn't see her face, only knew a female had spoken from her voice. The hood covering her head cast her features in shadow, but she stood tall, where the others tried desperately to make themselves as small as possible.
"Finally, some brave cats," the rat mocked. "Let's see if your cockiness saves you from the sword's curse."
Ullatec unlocked their cuffs, freeing their hands, and looked as if he might shove them forward, but the menacing look in Tygra's dark eyes made him think better of it. The rat flipped a switch once the cats were on the platform. Gears and pulleys clanked; the lift descended at a smooth and steady pace. The temperature was moderate, and the light from above faded away. Tygra estimated it would take twenty minutes to reach the bottom.
Cheetara pulled the robe off her shoulders. "Did he say curse?"
"It's probably just superstition to keep the slaves scared," Tygra answered, tossing his robe aside.
She raised a brow and bit her lip. "I hope you're right."
"I'm right about everything," he winked at her.
For the moment, his bravado did the trick. Cheetara gazed at him through her lashes.
The platform was halfway down when a disturbing noise reverberated throughout the shaft. Before they could make sense of what was happening, the cable attached to chains holding the lift snapped, and it plunged downward at breakneck speed. Cheetara screamed; she and Tygra found themselves free-falling in total darkness.
The cleric quickly reached for her staff, calling out its magic, and the wood expanded. The ends of the weapon dug into the stone, yellow-white sparks shot through the gloom before the wood held firm; the cheetah hung gracefully from the lifeline, but the dark had swallowed up her mate. Tendrils of panic wormed around her heart.
"Tygra!"
A loud swoosh sliced the air; seconds later, the striped cat's whip coiled around the staff, and she saw him shimmying up the cord. He was dangling safely beside her when the platform crashed below. Cheetara exhaled sharply, piercing Tygra with her gaze.
"No curse, huh?"
"I'm still not convinced," his voice was a study in confidence, "but if there was, it'd be no match for the two of us."
Cheetara's eyes narrowed slightly; a half-smile teased her lips, and Tygra peered into the murkiness.
"We need to find a way down."
He drew a small light from his utility belt and aimed the lantern's beam at the bottom of the mineshaft; the drop was still significant. He turned the light right then left. The rock wasn't smooth; there were ample footholds and places they could hang on to climb down. The trick would be maneuvering themselves into position.
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm going to grab hold of that rock there," he pointed to the wall nearest him. "When I'm low enough, I'll jump the rest of the way."
"All right. Be careful."
Tygra nodded, tossed her the lantern, and swung his legs back and forth, picking up speed until he raised his body up and over the staff. He rotated twice more, and the thong untangled itself, snapping back into the handle. Tygra gripped a pocket in the rock, jabbed his feet in crevices where he could, and started his descent. His movements were quick and agile; he stopped once to look up at her before dropping from sight.
"Cheetara!"
She swirled the beam of light around him.
"You're up."
She let the lamp fall into his hands. "Once I retract the staff, I'm going to—"
"Don't worry, babe, I'll catch you."
Cheetara mimicked Tygra's acrobatics; the staff retracted in her hands, and she dropped into his waiting arms. The last time he'd caught her like this was when Viragor had broken her staff and sent her plummeting to earth. They hadn't been mates at the time, but she remembered the shock of excitement she'd felt. And she felt it now, sliding down the length of him, inhaling his scent. His grin left little to her imagination, and his eyes gleamed as her feet touched the ground.
"Easy lover," she purred, steadying herself. "We still have a sword to find."
"That we do," he said, reaching for her hand. "And this is not a date." Now his eyes sparkled with humor, and she laughed. "Come on."
-v-
The cats were handcuffed and herded off into Mount Plun-Darr single file, not underground into the mines, as they expected, but up into the mountain's interior. The path was steep and arduous; flames leaped in torches dotting the way, and while the light was hardly bright enough for them to see where they were stepping, Thundrillium crystals still managed to sparkle eerily.
Mordax, along with two other guards, led them into a large room bathed in golden light. The space was sparsely furnished; the walls were burnt orange, carpet—the perfect blend of marigold and dark amber—covered the stone floor, and rich wine-colored drapes hung on either side of an elegant chair sitting upon a dais. This was the rats' version of a throne room, and an enormous rat slumped against the chair. The rodent wasn't fat, just beefy with muscle.
He appeared bored until Mordax arrived with his prisoners. Pumyra whispered he was the master of Mount Plun-Darr. The one-eyed rat addressed him as Ratar-O, and Lion-O expected him to be more like Slithe or Kanar, brutish and coarse, but the lord of rats had a cultured voice and was sarcastically witty. He was also used to being obeyed. It was clear Ratar-O used the smaller, misshapen Mordax as his whipping boy.
"Slaves belong in the pit, you hopeless halfwit," he reprimanded.
"But he had this," Mordax explained, showing him the clawed gauntlet with the Sword of Omens.
Ratar-O's eyes lit up with interest immediately. "Let me see that," he demanded.
Mordax bowed before his master, offering the prize.
"So, you're the child king of the Thundercats," the rodent lord taunted, his voice amused. "A shame you have no kingdom. And an even greater shame, I missed its tragic fall. What's left of your people belongs to me, and soon the Sword of Plun-Darr will as well."
"Mumm-Ra's sword," Lion-O exhaled.
"Indeed. And the fool doesn't even know it's here. But long before anyone knew it was once his, it was ours."
Pumyra's face twisted contemptuously. "Doesn't look like it did you swamp dwellers much good."
Ratar-O's eyes took on a faraway look as he recounted their history. "It did until the cats took it away. For generations, the rats lived off the other animals' leftovers feeding on scraps in the swamplands, barely surviving underground. Until my ancestor, Ratilla made a discovery that changed our destiny forever.
"With the Sword of Plun-Darr in our possession, we were finally able to take what was rightfully ours. But the cats said we abused our newfound power. The truth was, they were unwilling to share it. Arrogantly believing only themselves to be worthy of such a mighty weapon, they sent the wizard Jaga with their own Sword of Omens in hand to destroy it."
Ratar-O paused, and Lion-O had a moment of introspection. This was the second time he'd been told of the cats' history of oppression, first, from the lizards he'd protected in Thundera and now from the king rat. The lion king was beginning to wonder just how much wrongdoing his ancestors had done to "preserve the fragile peace" his father had been so proud of. Ratar-O continued his tale.
"Ratilla fought for the fate of our people, but Jaga's magic was too much for him. To keep the sword out of the hands of our people, Jaga put a curse on it and plunged it into the Earth, allowing this mountain to grow over it like a scar, burying it forever. Our people never recovered. But when those cats unearth it for me, I will rule as my ancestor once did."
"And we will be back at the top of the food chain," Mordax crowed.
Ratar-O's red eyes turned on the smaller rat spitefully; he raised his foot, kicking Mordax hard enough to knock him off the dais.
"We? Remember, your place is to serve me."
Scowling, Mordax slowly picked himself up. "I'm getting tired of your abuse," he grumbled.
"Then take it out on the cats," Ratar-O sneered, pointing at the three in front of him. "I want them dead."
Hearing their deaths ordered so casually shocked the cats; Lion-O bared his fangs and growled.
-v-
Cheetara and Tygra were unaware of the sword's history, but her playful mood faded the longer they wandered through the mine. Tygra knew she was worried and tried to calm her fears with a stream of lighthearted banter, but the cheetah no longer took the bait. Her earlier flirtatiousness gave way to a feeling of dread; the deeper they delved underground, the more uneasy she became.
"I can't believe you're ignoring the possibility of a curse when you saw one with your own eyes."
She was sensitive and mystical, but he was pragmatic by nature. He needed proof.
"That's the thing," Tygra reasoned. "I saw the curse at work, not to mention the Spirits of Evil. Nothing that's happened here screams magic, spells, or curses."
"Except—" A slight wrinkle formed between her brows; the curse nagged at her. "The platform falling—"
"Was a coincidence," Tygra said over his shoulder. No sooner had the words left his mouth, the lamp began to flicker.
"Now the torch is going out."
He tapped it against his hand a couple of times, the beam settled down, and he offered her a lopsided grin. "Shoddy equipment."
"And the cats who died?"
"We only heard that cats died, and it's not like," Tygra's voice trailed off.
A skeleton lay in their path, pinned under a giant rock. Cheetara's eyes widened.
"Look," Tygra's tone was measured, "if we stick together, we can survive whatever—"
"Look out!"
Cheetara shoved him hard just as a stalactite fell from the roof with a devastating thud. The striped cat slammed against the wall, the cleric ended up on her hands and knees.
A sound like wings fluttering in panic rose in his ears; Tygra realized it was his heart but tried to play the whole thing off. "A freak accident," he announced.
Cheetara stared at him, no longer willing to deny what she felt all around her. Before either one of them could speak, the cavern exploded in ominous rumbling. Apparently, the first rockfall was merely the opening act for a far more dangerous situation. Boulders, stalactites, and rocks of every imaginable size broke free, crashing to the ground. The noise was deafening. The cats scrambled to their feet, running for their lives. The cave-in seemed to chase them along an uneven path; they dodged boulders and scampered over smaller rocks, finally taking cover on opposite sides of the cavern.
"Or not," Tygra blurted, looking back at the rocks piled up behind them. Thick dust drifted in the air. The prince suppressed a shiver and rethought the idea of a curse.
"Look!" Cheetara pointed to a shape glowing in the rock ahead. She could feel magic, old and powerful, surrounding it as they approached. "That must be the Sword of Plun-Darr; there's an energy around it."
Tygra strode forward and touched the rock. "How do we get it out?"
Her sapphire eyes filled with awe. "I know it sounds strange, but the magic I sense, it feels like Jaga's work, and that magic flows through me as well."
The staff appeared in her hands; its length stretched out in response to the energy radiating from the enchantment around the sword. Cheetara raised the rod above her head, spinning it with such speed it was nothing more than a blur. The cheetah darted forward, slamming the staff into the rock, and it splintered under the force of her blow, shattering into small pieces.
"That's my girl," Tygra's voice was full of pride. "See? I told you all that nonsense about this thing being—"
Cheetara did not want to hear any more of his nonsensical excuses. "Don't taunt the curse."
He fell silent immediately, turning his attention to the sword and gauntlet pinned to the rock. Without the barrier obstructing it, Tygra saw both were enormous, seemingly made for a giant.
"By Thundera!"
He grabbed at it, trying to pull the gauntlet free, but it wouldn't budge. Tygra stepped back, took a deep breath, and tried again. He pulled with all his strength, straining, and grunting with the effort, but Mumm-Ra's prize held fast. His chocolate gaze turned to Cheetara, and she covered his hand with hers, grabbed hold of the gauntlet with the other, and pulled.
A shimmering light formed in her mind's eye; the gauntlet shifted a bit. Cheetara squeezed her eyes tight and focused harder; she pressed her lips together, her chin trembled, and they pulled again. The gauntlet loosened substantially under their combined strength and her magic; finally, it came free. They set it on the ground, as they did, the rumbling and shaking from above began anew.
Meanwhile, the Thundercats in Ratar-O's throne room were facing execution. Pumyra glared at Lion-O and sniped, "It was your mercy that got us into this."
"And I'll get us out of this," he insisted, ignoring the beads of sweat sliding down his face.
Mordax stood behind the lion king; the scythe raised high, ready to strike.
"Maybe you should start with me," Panthro suggested. "He's gotta get us out of this."
Before anyone could do anything, the cave-in ripping through the mine below them destabilized the room; rocks rained down on them, and pillars collapsed. The guards ran off when a boulder as large as a lizard's transport fell on top of the throne.
Below, the cave-in showed no sign of abating. Tygra didn't see a way out, but he still asked, "Should we make a run for it?"
A tinge of hopefulness colored his voice, but it was Cheetara's turn to be pragmatic. "We'll never make it."
Then it was settled. It may be hopeless for him, but he would never condemn her. "You're fast enough to get out of here," his tone was resolute. "Go!"
Cheetara frowned; she couldn't believe her ears. Had he lost his mind? "You know I'd never leave you behind!"
By the gods, he loved her! Tygra's dark eyes never left her face. "If this is our last moment together, then we'd better make the most of it."
He pulled her into his arms, caressed her cheek, and she smiled, burrowing into his embrace, her arms closed around him. Their lips met, and the world around them fell away. They belonged together; for better or worse, their hearts beat as one. They would never willingly be parted. Eventually, they became aware of the silence. The ground had stopped shaking, rocks no longer fell like hail, and the mine was suddenly as quiet as a tomb. Tygra's fingertips caressed her cheek again before cupping her chin; they were still lost in each other's eyes.
Cheetara's soft voice broke the spell between them. "We survived." She was quietly amazed.
"I told you sticking together would save us from the curse."
"I think we just got lucky."
Tygra couldn't agree more; he smiled broadly. "You're right. We did."
-v-
The throne room was destroyed; the roof and walls had been obliterated. Cats and rats alike were buried under the rubble. Lion-O pushed the weight of a slab off him and saw pieces of debris riding the air current. He glanced around; both Panthro and Pumyra were out cold, half-covered by rock. The lion started to stand but was struck hard in the face; the blow lifted him off his feet. He landed heavily on his back.
"Not much of a king, are you?" Ratar-O asked, following the fist to the lion king's face with a vicious kick to his side. "I pulled my people out from underground, built this mine, enslaved your pathetic kind, and will soon rule over all I survey. And you?"
"I'm just getting started," Lion-O said, jumping to his feet. Roaring, he launched himself at Ratar-O. The attack surprised the rat king; he found himself flat on his behind.
"You're a tyrant who rules by fear," the boy king railed. "Your people are just slaves on the other side of the whip."
"But my people are still standing," Ratar-O sneered.
Before Lion-O could say anything more, he once again felt a blade at his back. Mordax. Again!
"Well, kill him, you dolt!" Ratar-O shouted, but his underling lowered the weapon. "What are you waiting for?"
"I'm trying to figure out why this cat treated me better than you do," Mordax replied.
Ratar-O bellowed, "Kill him!"
"Kill him yourself," Mordax said, tossing the blade aside. He began walking away but noticed the lion king's sword and gauntlet lying on the shattered floor. He kicked it toward the ginger cat, laughed wickedly, and ran off.
Now the battle between the two kings began in earnest. Ratar-O's daggers were as powerful as the sword; he was no slouch but a formidable adversary. Energy pulsated from the blades he wielded. Lion-O found himself bested until the Spirit Stone in his gauntlet sprang to life, repelling the daggers' intensity; it dealt the rat a decisive defeat and sent him scurrying off to lick his wounds.
Panthro regained consciousness and freed himself during the battle; he removed a heavy stone off Pumyra's ankle, and Lion-O helped her up.
"Told you I'd get us out of this," he said with a hint of smugness.
"Perhaps there is room for mercy in our struggle," Pumyra allowed; her eyes were luminous.
When the roof started falling about their heads, the cat slaves fled the mine, eyes wide with terror; they stumbled and climbed over each other as they poured into the tent camp where the Thundercats found them. Lion-O set Pumyra down gently and joined Panthro, helping to remove chains and giving directions to the place they'd be safe. The newly liberated cats mumbled words of thanks and gratitude as they filed past their young king and the famous general. Gyorg was the very last cat to shed his shackles.
"Thank you, my king," he said, rubbing his wrists as Lion-O dropped his chains onto the pile.
"Ratar-O fled back underground," the king consoled him. "You'll be safe in the old settlement just outside the ruins of Thundera."
The old cat bobbed his head and bowed; there were unshed tears in his eyes. Gyorg thanked Lion-O one last time then followed the last group of cats leaving the camp, holding his tail high.
Panthro folded his arms across his chest. "Well, that's every cat accounted for except Tygra and Cheetara. What if they couldn't find the sword?"
"As if there was any doubt," the striped cat's voice rose behind them.
They turned to see Tygra and Cheetara, holding an enormous gauntlet between them. The sword was sheathed snugly inside. They lay the gauntlet on the ground; the others gathered around them.
"This isn't a weapon for cats to wield," Cheetara declared. "We should take it to the Tower of Omens before Mumm-Ra learns it's been unearthed."
Panthro pointed to a battalion of mechas marching toward the mountain. "It's too late for that."
Astonished, Cheetara's eyes went immediately to Tygra; he shared her bewilderment. Lion-O voiced what they all were thinking.
"How could they have found us?"
"It's too late to worry about that now," the general replied. "But if we move fast, we might be able to slip past them using the same trail as the cat slaves."
The familiar look of rage contorted Pumyra's face; she balled her fists. "Are you crazy?" she shouted. "You wanna bring Mumm-Ra right to them? We didn't free our people just to see them slaughtered."
Lion-O's forehead puckered. "Do you have a better plan?"
"If it's the Sword of Plun-Darr and gauntlet he's after, let's use them to draw his forces into the mines. I know its tunnel system better than anyone, and it'll give the slaves time to escape."
Panthro had never heard anything more ridiculous. "If we're caught, Mumm-Ra will have everything he needs to rule Third Earth."
"Then let's not get caught," Pumyra snapped.
She looked at the others and recognized none of them were on board with the idea. Any one of them would speak up with a better idea if she gave them a chance. Pumyra looked at Lion-O. She had his attention and took it down a notch.
"I know it's dangerous, but you owe it to your people, Your Majesty."
Panthro and Tygra wore matching scowls; they both had objections. Had she forgotten the extra obstacle of the cave-in? The general wondered why Lion-O was listening to Pumyra in the first place. Cheetara's eyes locked on her; the feline's use of Lion-O's title felt a little like manipulation.
The king exhaled. "Panthro, you, Tygra, and Cheetara get to the tank. Pumyra and I will catch up after we lose them in the mines."
Cheetara and Tygra were stunned; they didn't like Pumyra's plan or Lion-O's willingness to accept it. If anyone had the chance to get away with the sword and gauntlet, it was Cheetara, and she wondered what Lion-O was thinking. Tygra wondered how much of his decision had to do with wanting to impress the new girl.
He clasped his brother's arm. "Lion-O, we'll be at a huge disadvantage if you fail."
"Are you sure you wanna risk this?" Panthro asked. "I don't want your emotions to—"
"I'm sure," Lion-O's tone was firm and discouraged further comment.
So, the plan was settled if not unanimously agreed upon; Lion-O and Pumyra ran toward the mine while the remainder of the team headed uneasily for Dog City.