Chapter 14 – Old Friends, Bad Vibes
Aleser's disclosure was a setback, but there was always more than one way to accomplish one's magical objective; Kefira only needed to find it. And she was determined even if Aleser wasn't forthcoming. She spent hours poring over the few undamaged magic tomes still in their possession, searching for the spell or incantation that would solve the problem, but her efforts were unsuccessful. The young cleric dreaded turning to Aleser again, but he seemed her only hope.
Kefira found him in a vault further in the underground's belly than she'd explored before. She held her torch high, warding off the dark, stepping carefully into the hollow. She saw tongues of flame dancing midair, untethered and illuminating the gloom around the cleric. His back was to her, and he appeared to be drawing in the air with his good hand. Undulating marks—glyphs and cryptic symbols—shimmered before him. Kefira's sharp gasp announced her presence, and the sorcerer's work dissolved instantly. Aleser snarled.
"What do you want?" he demanded without looking at the lioness.
Kefira jumped at his curtness, swallowed hard, then got on with it. Aleser was intimidating, but her need was urgent.
"Believe me, I'd sooner poke out my eyes than bother you again, but you know why I'm here. I must speak with the cleric traveling with our king."
"I told you what was required," he snapped.
"Yes, but there must be another way," she insisted.
"Then look for it."
"I've tried! Why are you being so obstinate? Don't you want to help our people?"
"And you think a young lion who's never shown the slightest interest in leading or being king is going to do that?"
"I don't know!" she nearly shouted. "But from what I've seen, he's not without support, and he has the Sword of Omens!"
Aleser sighed, a world-weary sound that seemed torn from his soul, and turned his head slightly in her direction. "Despite what you think, I am not stubborn or unmoved."
She stared at his profile, suddenly speechless.
"What do you think I'm doing?"
"I don't know," she repeated; this time, her tone was far less agitated.
"I'm working on a spell, one that will carry your voice across time and distance to find your cleric wherever she might be."
Filled with hope, Kefira rushed to Aleser's side; she touched his arm lightly. "Thank you."
"Yes, well, don't just stand there being useless," he said gruffly, attempting to hide the beginnings of a smile that teased the corner of his mouth. "You recognized the symbols I'd crafted before your disruption?" She nodded. "Good. You can recreate them. I'll work on the tools we'll need to cast the spell."
And with that, the two sorcerer-clerics set about the task at hand.
- v -
Cheetara, Tygra, and Panthro started across the desert for the Thundertank as they'd been instructed; there, they would wait for Lion-O and the puma to join them once they'd lost the lizard army in the mine. The same mine that was full of clogged arteries and dead ends thanks to the cave-in brought on by the curse of Mount Plun-Darr.
"We should never have agreed to this," Cheetara sighed.
Panthro grunted. "We didn't."
"Lion-O shut us down before we could argue against the puma's insane plan," Tygra reminded her, a slight frown formed between his eyes.
"What is wrong with that kid?" the general asked through clenched teeth. "I thought he'd gotten past this impulsive behavior."
Tygra ruffled the fur on his head. "Apparently not."
They ran the rest of the way in silence, but each of them was worried. We shouldn't have left him, Cheetara thought as she ran, her feet barely touching the ground. Pumyra claimed she knew the tunnels in the mine better than anyone. But that begged the question, how? How much time had she spent in the mine? How long had she been a slave?
Tygra ran at the cleric's side, matching her stride for stride since she wasn't running as fast as she could. Unless his brother entrusted the Sword of Omens to a cat they didn't know, and Tygra didn't trust, the prince didn't see how Lion-O was going to carry it and the Sword of Plun-Darr. The weapon was enormous, not to mention heavy. He'd had Cheetara's help, and still, it had been a struggle climbing out of the mine with it. Tygra blew out his cheeks. I should've stayed, he thought, no matter what.
Panthro was stuck on the fact that the ginger cat was listening to a hothead who embodied all his worst instincts. He's letting his emotions run away with him again, Panthro thought, but this time the stakes were dangerously high. Lion-O was trying to evade Mumm-Ra's army with a volatile puma and a sword as powerful as the Sword of Omens.
The cats didn't know Mumm-Ra had taken control of the Sword of Plun-Darr's recovery himself, adding another layer to the threat already posed by the generals and the lizard army. They didn't know the weapon was as malevolent as its master and called out to him, guiding the ancient evil to it. And topping it off, Pumyra was proving herself to be more of a liability than an asset. But the Thundercats didn't know any of that, so they stuck to the plan and worried.
Night had fallen again when the cats reached the tank. They'd been running, fighting, and dodging crushing rocks for nearly twenty-four hours. Now, they were ready to collapse. Panthro got to the shower first and stayed so long, Cheetara feared he had used all the hot water. He hadn't, but the threat of it gave the lovers the excuse to shower together. The cave-in was still fresh in their minds; they lingered in each other's arms before washing the dirt and stress out of one another's fur.
"Should we?" Tygra breathed against her neck, one hand cupped her breast, the other gently soaped her back.
"We should seize every moment we're given, love," Cheetara purred and leaned against him, exposing her throat.
Tygra drew his fangs along the graceful column before turning her face to his. Their lips met in an unhurried, deeply satisfying kiss; then they made love, tender and fulfilling, beneath the stream of water, and while the heat between them didn't diminish, the water eventually cooled.
Later, Cheetara stepped from the tank into the sable arms of a moonless night; the air was mystical in its stillness, and she embraced it. She took a deep breath, threw back her head, and gazed up at the dark sky. Cheetara cleared her mind of everything and let her consciousness drift. Time passed. The cheetah did not move, and the king did not return. Panthro popped open the hatch, poking his head through; he called down to her.
"Still no sign of them?"
Cheetara mentally shook herself and returned to her immediate surroundings. "No. How much longer should we wait?"
"I think we've waited long enough," Panthro replied.
Tygra had been working on a minor task inside the tank; now, he appeared on the ramp. "Something's wrong," he said, fastening the utility belt around his waist. "We need to go after them."
Cheetara drew in a final cleansing breath, then pivoted toward the tank. She had one foot on the ramp when she heard something. It sounded like—
Cheetara!
The cleric did a three-sixty, scanning the area.
Cheetara!
She looked at Tygra. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Cheetara tilted her head, listening intently with every part of her being, attuned to everything around her. Tygra started toward her, but she raised her hand, motioning for him to stop.
Cheetara!
"Who is summoning me?"
An apparition appeared suddenly; it took a few moments for her to recognize an old friend. Cheetara inhaled sharply.
"Kefira!?"
The sorceress's spectral head jerked unnaturally.
"Is it really you?"
Kefira's wraithlike image faded in and out before her, ignoring the question.
"Listen, there's a group of us here in Thundera."
"Where?"
"You remember the catacombs under the clerisy, don't you?" Cheetara's golden head moved up and down. "We're hiding there."
The cheetah craned her neck. "How many?"
"Five clerics including myself, fifty civilians; mostly women and children."
Tygra stirred behind her, his dark eyes stretched wide. "By Thundera!"
"What do you need?" the cheetah asked. "How can I help?"
"We need to relocate, preferably above ground. Can you return to Thundera?"
Cheetara shook her head. "That isn't possible; we're hundreds of miles from Thundera. But there are others, cats we rescued on their way to the old settlement."
The ghostly image frowned; this information didn't seem to please her.
"Kefira—"
"Bring the king to Thundera, Cheetara! Use your magic."
The cheetah blinked. Why does everyone think I have anything resembling powerful magic? "I don't have that kind of skill!"
"There is one with you who can help. I—"
Kefira's image vanished abruptly, along with her voice, leaving Cheetara with a hundred questions. Tygra was at her side in an instant.
"Who was that?"
Panthro jumped from the tank's roof, landing beside the prince.
"Tell me that wasn't a ghost."
"A cleric," Cheetara said, still trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. "A friend." Her gaze swerved to Tygra. "Did you hear everything?"
He nodded. "Does this mean—?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "But we need to get back to Mount Plun-Darr now."
- v -
Tygra guided Panthro to the place where he and Cheetara had exited the mine; it was the only viable passage out of the tunnel they knew of, and the tank rolled to a stop just before sunrise. The cats stepped out of the tank and waited beneath a steel-gray sky; thunder rumbled ominously behind the clouds. Now that the curse was broken, the skies above Plun-Darr were not as dark and heavy. A sense of foreboding swallowed up the last shred of hope the cats may have had when Lion-O and Pumyra finally appeared. It wasn't hard to see things hadn't gone according to plan; the massive gauntlet was missing.
Cheetara didn't know what bothered her more, the way Lion-O and Pumyra sauntered toward them or the look of satisfaction on the puma's face; both were unsettling.
"What happened?" Tygra's tone was deceptively even, masking the turmoil swelling up inside him.
The ginger cat's expression was somber. "Mumm-Ra has the Sword of Plun-Darr."
"I don't believe this!" Panthro groaned, rubbing a meaty hand across his face.
"How did that happen?" Cheetara asked.
Suddenly defensive, Lion-O snapped, "Does it matter? It's gone."
Cheetara's brows raised at his tone, but Tygra's nostrils flared, his hands clenched at his sides. He couldn't believe Lion-O was being both rude and dismissive. The striped cat pinned the lion with a furious stare, then turned the same cold look on the puma standing behind him.
"It damn well matters," Tygra snarled. "Do you have any idea what you've allowed to happen?"
The lion looked away first. "The balance has shifted," he admitted with a lot less attitude. "We're looking at a whole new war."
"You think?" the prince growled.
Panthro sought to avoid the impending explosion; he didn't want things to deteriorate any more than they had.
"We better make sure we find that next stone first," he said, "but this is bad, Lion-O. We need a full debrief."
Six pairs of eyes stared at the ginger cat, waiting for an explanation, but Lion-O seemed to have swallowed his tongue. Pumyra seemed little more than a bystander to the fall-out, offering no explanations or apologies. Tygra and Panthro stood with arms folded across their chests; their patience grew shorter the longer they waited.
It was the cheetah who finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but her comments were precise. "I'm sorry, but you don't get a pass on this one," she said, her sapphire eyes locked with Lion-O's blue orbs. "The lizard army turned up inexplicably; the plan to escape through the tunnels was ill-advised, but you didn't want to hear our reservations. And now Mumm-Ra has the sword; defeating him is now exponentially more difficult."
Lion-O realized that being king wasn't going to let him skirt the severity of what happened. His team was disappointed and upset, and rightly so. If he hadn't been seeking Pumyra's approval, things might have ended differently. Lion-O went over everything in his mind; he had questioned his decision shortly after they'd entered the tunnels.
"Why does it feel like coming back in here was a mistake?" he'd wondered aloud.
"Well, if you came for the slaves in the first place, we wouldn't be running for our lives," the puma's voice was snide.
Lion-O was stung by her criticism. "You're never gonna give me a break, are you?"
Pumyra glared at him. "You've got a lot to make up for, Your Majesty." She used the title like a slur.
The Sword of Plun-Darr began to hum and pulsate, putting an end to her sniping.
"What's it doing?"
"The sword's connected to Mumm-Ra," Lion-O answered. "And he's calling to it, Pumyra." A shiver ran down his spine. "I can feel all the death and destruction it took to create it."
Pumyra found the tunnel that would lead them out from underground, but they were ambushed by Atticus and a squad of lizards. They'd fought through the trap, managing to escape, but it was clear the generals could navigate the tunnels easier than they'd thought. At this point, the puma suggested they each take a sword and separate, saying it was their best chance. Deep down, Lion-O knew that was a terrible idea, but once again, he acquiesced, giving her the Sword of Plun-Darr.
"Take it and run," he told her. "I'll meet up with you and the others."
But in less time than it took to run in the opposite direction, Lion-O heard Pumyra's screams. She'd been captured by Mumm-Ra, and after a brief but furious skirmish, the lion king was given a choice: save the girl or take the Sword of Plun-Darr. Mumm-Ra dropped Pumyra into an abyss, betting on the boy king to act with his heart, and the ginger cat did not disappoint. Loathed to sacrifice an innocent, Lion-O made the choice that would shape battles to come. He saved the girl, and Mumm-Ra reclaimed his sword.
Afterward, Pumyra was contrite and apologetic. She'd misjudged her king, treated him with disrespect and disdain at every turn, and still, he'd risked his life to save her, even given up a powerful weapon.
Dewy-eyed, she'd whispered, "I don't deserve your compassion."
Her soft look and feathery voice had the desired effect. "After all you've been through, you deserve more," he comforted.
"Don't get mushy on me, Your Majesty." This time the use of his title was warm, sincere.
He'd smiled and said, "Call me Lion-O."
She yielded and cooed his name while gently touching his face.
The ginger cat revealed everything except the personal moment to the Thundercats, hoping to diffuse the discord. But Tygra couldn't forget how his brother had willingly ignored their family bond when there'd been a blade at his back. Lion-O had been willing to sacrifice him for far less but had put the life of one cat who wasn't even his last relative over the lives of millions. Tygra was too angry to remain in Lion-O's presence. Flashing his fangs, he growled, turned on his heel, and stormed off. Lion-O looked at Cheetara; his expression seemed to plead with her to intercede on his behalf with his brother. But the cleric disagreed with Lion-O's choices and gave no indication that she would put herself in the middle of this dispute. Instead, she changed the subject.
"There's one more thing. We have a few clerics and civilians in Thundera; they're hunkered down in the catacombs under the clerisy."
"How do you know this?"
"A cleric reached out to Cheetara using some kind of spell," Panthro replied.
"What do you want to do about the cats hiding in Thundera?" she pressed.
Lion-O ran his fingers through his mane. "We don't need two clusters of refugees to worry about; everyone should go to the old settlement."
Panthro stroked his chin. "Without an army or trained fighters to protect them, how can we guarantee their safety?"
"I can go to Thundera as your representative," Cheetara said, clasping her hands behind her back. "Evaluate the situation and offer any help that I can. My friend Kefira is a sorceress; I'm sure she has the skill to shield the settlement."
Lion-O did the math in his head. "Even with your speed, it will take days to reach Thundera; I can't spare you for that length of time."
"And yet, you had no problem giving up the Sword of Plun-Darr for one cat," Cheetara replied evenly.
Panthro sucked his teeth. Touché. Lion-O flinched inwardly, his cheeks reddened, and Pumyra chafed at the remark. Lion-O suddenly felt tired; he didn't want to fight both his brother and his cleric.
"Do what you think best," he said wearily.
Cheetara nodded, then disappeared inside the tank as Tygra had before her.
Lion-O followed the cheetah with troubled eyes. It seemed the Sword of Plun-Darr wasn't the only thing he'd lost; it felt like he was losing the support and goodwill of the other Thundercats. Feeling both humbled and dejected, Lion-O turned to Panthro.
"Well, general, what are your thoughts?"
Panthro couldn't help feeling vexed. So now you want to know what I think? Aloud he said, "Concentrate on finding the next stone."
"Alright, then. Let's find the next stone."
The general climbed up the side of the tank, popped open the hatch, and lowered himself inside. Lion-O was left alone with Pumyra. She'd hung back during the confrontation, but now she glided to the king's side. Her smile was enigmatic, and even though he wasn't sure what she meant to communicate, he felt comforted.
- v –
"We did it!" Kefira said joyously, hugging Aleser.
The lion tensed, uncomfortable with affectionate displays, he pried her arms from around his waist. "Yes, well, I can't say your conversation with—Cheetara? was very productive."
The sorceress couldn't stop smiling. "I wouldn't say that. She knows we're here, others are coming, and she'll bring the king!"
Aleser took a deep breath and spoke with exaggerated patience. "Kefira, did she not say they were hundreds of miles from here?"
The lioness refused to let Aleser spoil her mood. "You don't know, Cheetara," she told him, gathering up the tools they'd used to cast the spell. "She's the fastest cheetah I've ever met, maybe the fastest cheetah in the world. And she has some magic."
"Hmm," Aleser bent his head, leaning on his cane. "The world is vast, and I'm sure I heard her say she didn't have the skill to use magical means to get here." He stressed his last words with deliberate pauses.
"That's true," Kefira blew out the ritual candles. "But I sensed stronger magic around her. If she can tap into that, there's the Astral Plane."
This remark was greeted with unexpected laughter. "You did say your friend is a Guardian of the Crown? She would never have studied the advanced magic required to enter and control the Astral Plane."
The lion had finally succeeded in getting under her skin. "Must you constantly be the voice of doom?" Kefira frowned indignantly.
Aleser wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. "I am merely managing expectations."
"She'll figure it out," the lioness huffed.
Aleser's lips twisted, but he managed to remark with a straight face, "As you say."
- v -
Tygra's door was open, but Cheetara still tapped on the jamb before peering inside. She saw his armor hanging on the rack built into the wall; the tiger himself was bare-chested, wearing dark blue khakis, doing sit-ups on the floor. Cheetara stood in the doorway, admiring how his muscles tightened and relaxed as he worked out.
"Three hundred," he grunted, resting his back against the floor.
Cheetara reached for the towel on his bed and handed it to him.
"Thanks," he wiped his face.
"Are you okay?"
Tygra sprang to his feet, grabbing his shirt. "I just can't, Cheetara," he ground out, pulling the shirt over his head.
"Can't what?"
"Deal with his recklessness anymore—the bad decisions, poor choices; it's madness."
He walked away from her, but the pad wasn't large enough to put much distance between them. She could see that he was struggling to keep a lid on the emotions seething beneath the surface, hence, the sit-ups.
"What are we doing here?" Tygra challenged, the fire blazing in his chocolate eyes lightened their hue to amber. "He doesn't listen to us but blindly trusts this puma who he's known for what two days? And who nearly killed him, I might add."
"I know you're upset. I'm upset, too," Cheetara admitted, stroking his arm. "But we can't let our emotions run away with us right now. One of us doing that is plenty."
Tygra cocked his head, side-eyeing her, but took her meaning.
"I'm going to Thundera, and Lion-O needs you and Panthro to be voices of reason, to watch out for him and support him."
He stopped listening when he heard she was going to Thundera. "What?! After what's happened with Mumm-Ra and the sword, you're leaving?"
"You make it sound like I'm deserting, and I'm not. I told you I would check on displaced cats when I knew where to look." At his shocked expression, she cupped his cheek, holding his gaze. "I'll be back before you can miss me. But as I was saying, be patient with your brother, Tygra. I mean it," she said off his indifferent expression.
"I know we're not that much older or wiser, but we have practical experience and years of study in our favor. Lion-O's learned a lot, but he still has a long way to go; we all do." He scoffed, and she added, "I'm not saying coddle him; give him a kick in the pants when he needs it."
"Deserves it, you mean," Tygra snorted.
She half rolled her eyes at the remark and said, "I don't trust Pumyra; don't let her have too much influence over him."
"I don't trust her either, but it might be too late. He already has that moony expression when he looks at her."
"What moony expression?"
"The same one he had when he was crushing on you."
Cheetara tossed her head nonchalantly. "Never saw it."
"Pfft!" Tygra blew air through his lips. He loved her to distraction, but how could she be so intuitive and yet so blind at the same time?
"Whatever," she shrugged, moving on. "Before I do anything, I need to look at the Book of Omens."
"Why?"
"Kefira mentioned using magic to hasten my travel time, and she also said there was someone who could help." He looked at her questioningly. "You."
Cheetara smiled at him indulgently; he was adorable. Still, she wondered how he could be so meticulous in tactical matters yet unconcerned with magic, which she considered another strategic tool.
"There's magic in you, Tygra," she made a gesture encompassing his entire person. "I need to figure out how to use it."
"Huh," he puffed out his chest. "I'm not just a pretty face, then?"
She tugged at the corner of his shirt. "You never were."
"So, you need the book, but will Lion-O share it?"
"After losing the Sword of Plun-Darr, he's not in a position to withhold anything."
- to be continued -