TC is the property of WB and its affiliates. Any concepts not originating from the TC universe are the property of these creator(s) unless otherwise noted.

Characters will not completely resemble the 1985 rendition, nor the 2011 rendition. This is a reimagining of the Thundercats series as a whole and not entirely based on either series. Nor is it based on any other fan work. The creator(s) of this work reserve the right not to answer any questions or respond to any reviews. This is meant to mimic a professional work and will be conducted as such.

Episode 11

Under Streets of Gold

Lion-O would not have placed Cheetara as an actress, but in his humble opinion she did very well when they arrived at the dock.

She stood impatiently, rapping her claws on the rails and wore a slumpy cloak to hide her slenderness. Tygra stood as if unwilling to be there and exasperated. When a large leopard approached on the long dock where they'd gotten off the ferry, he eyed the Thundertank and said, "Business?"

Cheetara huffed. "I run a tavern in a town southwest of here, and I'm here to find out why the suppliers are increasing prices for continually poor goods." She spat the words, eyes flaming, and the man seemed to sigh as if he'd heard this many times.

"Very well. Do you have any papers to verify your travels?"

"No. Just the word of this ignorant child." She pointed at Tygra who looked convincingly embarrassed. "He's the son of the noble in charge of all merchant disputes in town, and I've been begging for help for months! His father finally decided to make him do some work for once!"

"Hey, come on, I do work." She scoffed.

"Oh, chasing tail is work now? By the way, your children ask about you every day!"

"I told you they're not mine! They'd have stripes if they were!"

"Two of them do have stripes! My mother warned me about young idiots like you, but I was too stupid to listen." She turned her imperious gaze on the guard, who looked unnerved.

"Look, I see this is a…sensitive issue. I just need names and reasons for being in the city and you'll be allowed right in." He didn't question any of the names – all false – and the positions – merchant, noble, hired bodyguards for Panthro and Lion-O, and apprentices for Kat and Kit – and even Snarf was allowed in without an issue when Kit hugged him and said softly, "He's my bestest friend." The guards didn't like Lion-O's blades but accepted that they were necessary for his job and allowed them without much protest.

The docks fed into the coast up to one great metal-wrought gate and the only unpleasant thing about getting in was that the Thundertank could not be brought. Panthro looked like he'd bitten into a fruit laced with poison but agreed to leave it on the ferry. "We'll take it further up the peninsula for your next job," Tursi called.

Lion-O had paid her extra to make sure the pod kept quiet about them and that the tank would be transferred safely to the nearest coast outside of the city of Tropo. It would be some time before they reached the northern edge of the city but Panthro had marked the place where it would be on a small map and bade it farewell after fetching their supplies from it.

Even he was distracted by the city once they entered it and the gates shut behind them. The docks had been long and sloped up, the city having been built higher on the land to prevent it from flooding every year. People milled by tall, fine buildings and the roads were set with stone and metal, very clean and flat. Fine clothing seemed to be the most common type and the smell of good food cooking made the kittens lift their noses. "Y'know, I wasn't expecting Tropo to be like this. I thought it'd be more like Rana Village."

Tygra kept Kat close, for he was showing signs of wanting to run off and explore. "The trade and goods and sea traffic have made Tropo very rich. So close to the docks would be one of the best places. There are probably poorer areas further in, but it's supposedly a good place to live. Provided you, ah, don't see anything you're not supposed to."

Cheetara was scanning the area with great interest. "You know, every merchant dreams of coming here at least once in their life. It's supposed to be one of the most diverse places in the world. Pity it's so dangerous right now." She sniffed. "Oh my gosh, I smell sugar frits."

Lion-O blinked. "Sugar what now?"

"You've never had sugar fritters? They're like the ultimate fair food. Little fried bits of dough with sugar on them." He shook his head and she sighed in frustration. "If we find a vendor I'll get you some. That's just wrong, not giving your kid sugar frits at least once in their life."

Panthro cleared his throat. "Childhood issues aside, where do we start?"

"Three teams worked all right last time," Tygra said, although Lion-O looked at the ground. "Panthro, you're our heaviest hitter, so I think you ought to stick with the kittens this time. As much as I enjoy my lucky charms, I think Snarf and I will make a good stealth team. Not to mention he'll be easy to carry."

Kit hugged Panthro's side and he muttered. Reading his expression Cheetara said, "I'll go with Lion-O, you go with the kids, and Tygra and Snarf can explore. We really need to stay close to each other though."

Lion-O's eyes scanned the road silently. "Okay. Again, meeting place is this area, by this tailor. For today we'll be listening, not interrogating. We need to figure out who is running the Mutation trade in this area and where they're stationed and if they're keeping people drugged around here. If we can do something about it we'll figure something out. If not, well…we'll work on that."

Neither kitten seemed to notice the look the adults shared. "Remember, ears open, mouths shut. Hammerhand won't be able to communicate with his superior but we don't need anyone else being hired to do us in."

"They wouldn't have been hired at all if we'd kept to ourselves." Panthro sounded weary and let Kit hold his hand. Kat held hers. "Girl, look after him and don't let him do anything crazy," he added pointedly to Cheetara.

When the group parted ways Cheetara took Lion-O's arm. "C'mon then."

Lion-O looked around as she tugged him along, pulling up his hood and slipping his goggles on to conceal his eyes. "What? Where are we going?"

"Vendors. As a merchant I've talked to enough people to know that they're never so happy as when they're full and drunk. Good info. And you really need to try some sugar frits." Lion-O did not see any good reason to protest – any start was as good as any other – and kept close to her. She was following her nose and seemed to be able to sense where the various smells were coming from. Lion-O didn't know how she did it but they inevitably stopped before a stand made of wood and brass colored nails, a pleasant little stall. A very handsome lizard manned it, jet black and scales shining as if wet. He was rolling balls of dough in his long fingers and tossing them into a bubbling pot, fishing them out afterwards and dusting them with sugar.

Cheetara greeted him and inquired of the prices. He perked up and accepted a silver and gave her a little package of the sweets, still piping hot. Lion-O was surprised. "I didn't know lizards liked sugary foods very much."

"These are based on a cake our ancestors made for celebrations, but when we discovered how much the others species liked them we altered the recipe." Cheetara thanked him and tried one.

"Hot, hot. Mm. Good." She took another sweet out of the bag and held it one inch from his mouth. "Open." She blew on it to cool it and he obeyed, biting neatly from the side.

Lion-O swallowed and finished it with another bite. "Wow. These are good." He took another and Cheetara grinned.

"Yep. I remember kids used to go crazy for these in Dera's Run when fairs came through. Tygra and I had a dare once that he couldn't eat fifty of these."

Lion-O snorted. "How'd that go?"

"I won. He managed to choke them down but he threw them back up, so it didn't count. Funnily enough he doesn't like them anymore. We were…gee, ten I think. Our parents disapproved of the bet, if you were wondering." She let him take the bag, satisfied as he nibbled at each piece to make it last longer. "Okay, business time. Let's mingle."

Lion-O's admiration for her grew as she transitioned from bright Cheetara to a silly blond girl with smiles flashed and a finger that curled in her long, light hair. She was not overtly flirtatious but as they encountered people she started idle conversations, asking them about the city and what it was like. Many gentlemen were very willing to engage her and Lion-O stayed close by, not sure if he liked that part so much.

One man deep in his tankard had red eyes and seemed to grow sad when he saw her. "I knew a girl like you once. A golden dog, the prettiest thing you'd ever like to see. I came here to see if I could find her but I've had no luck."

"That's too bad. Did she move away?" Cheetara asked innocently. He shrugged, pug nose running slightly.

"She came to the trader's convention; she was excited about that. Never did send another message after she arrived. Women are strange creatures. Like the ocean, always coming and going."

He took another drink and they moved on. Lion-O kept his ears tuned for conversations and kept very silent and moved slowly. Over a few hours this grew boring, but he and Cheetara talked quietly, which was pleasant. He ended up deciding sugar frits were probably the most delicious things he'd ever eaten and told her so. She seemed very pleased by this. Few others seemed happy in the area in light of the convention. The market had been flooded with goods because of the gathering and it was driving prices down. Grand for consumers, but not for the vendors.

"A man can't live on half a silver profit for woven cloth! And the seamstresses are trying to push it lower still!"

Cheetara, for some reason, decided that one area was particularly good for information and they tucked themselves into the shade of an overhang of one building, listening to everything.

"One week before the convention; think the contract will go through? I'm just glad we're in the tropics, I can't deal with those Luna."

"Another round tonight, Nfumu's going to kill again or I'm a mouse. Good money in that ring."

"Just a little more, that's right. Can't go home to the old lady sober or I'll never manage to sleep through her nagging."

"The supply chain southwest is drying up. Didn't you hear? Some group is causing trouble."

Lion-O took Cheetara by the wrist and she glanced at him; she'd heard. The man talking was a little black cat speaking to a silvery one, both short and thinly furred. Neither spoke of Mutation by name but they both knew what "group" had been causing trouble. "I had heard rumors. But surely one little gang couldn't take down all those agents."

"Oh no? Three of the best were downed by a few cats and a summoned legion of tiny creatures and the base was flooded. All the research was destroyed or stolen and we lost a major synthesizing factory. The Luna were taken into custody. Red says the head even hired Hammerhand to deal with them and he couldn't."

"The Terror of the Sea? Now I know you're pulling my tail. We'd have heard if Hammerhand couldn't cope with a challenge," the silver cat scoffed.

"Not with messages blocked. I heard from Whiska he's been taken in! He and his crew and his keep are done for! Their headquarters were destroyed! Who knows where they'll be now? Red's on edge, he's got Nfumu shedding blood every night. You know, trying to spread a little fear. If he didn't have brains he'd be such a useless coward…"

"Look, just don't be late. I'm courier for the evening and if everyone doesn't show up I'll be raked 'cross some coals." The silvery cat handed the black one a little scrap of paper and scurried off between two buildings.

As their first lead in hours neither cat was willing to let this go. "We need that paper," Cheetara whispered. "It might have a password on it or something."

"He'd notice if he lost it," Lion-O replied.

Cheetara absently shifted her hair so it fell becomingly over one shoulder. "Can you sneak it out of his pocket and back in if he's sufficiently distracted?"

He looked at the baggy breeches and said, "Tygra's been showing me some tricks so probably. Why?"

She whisked forward and tapped the cat on the shoulder. He turned around nervously and gave her a once over, looking shocked. "Hi," she said brightly. "I'm doing a survey about whether people in the area would be open to a dance club moving in. Could I get your opinion on a few questions?"

The man gave her another look and Lion-O noted that he looked crafty. "I don't see no clipboard, hon."

"Oh, I've got a real good memory." Cheetara tapped the side of her head and giggled. She was quite pretty; Lion-O had realized this long ago. She was athletic not buxom as most men might like, but she had an incredibly pretty face and her legs were quite shapely – he smacked himself. He slipped up behind the fellow as the cat crossed his arms. "So, dance clubs. There are never enough, y'know?"

"Well, there are a couple in the city, but I suppose another could hardly be an issue…" he said, eying her legs in particular. Lion-O's fingers were not as good for picking pockets as Tygra's deft motions but he managed to get the page out, open it and read the contents.

It read "Haus Scarlet. Fidgets." He memorized this and put the paper back, nodding at Cheetara. She asked a few more questions before saying, "Thank you so much! You were a really big help."

The cat gave her a crooked grin. "Showing appreciation is always a nice thing."

Her smile flickered and Lion-O – who had been backing up – turned around and purposely knocked the guy in the shoulder. "Wow, sorry, I'm a klutz," he said loudly. Cheetara skipped away and they regrouped on the other side of another building, one that sold books and magazines. "It said Haus Scarlet, and the word fidgets was beneath it. Nothing else."

"Thanks for that." She swept her hair back and tapped her foot. "So, Haus Scarlet. Sounds like a place. Fidgets would probably be the password. Some kind of meeting going down."

"We need to find the others. This could be exactly what we need." Lion-O and Cheetara returned to the tailor to wait and listen, unaware that at that very moment, Tygra and Snarf were making some rather dangerous discoveries of their own.

"I don't know how you do it. You have an absolute knack for sniffing out trouble." Snarf held tight to Tygra's shoulder, hoping their invisibility wouldn't fade out too quickly. Tygra seemed to be able to sense when it was, but it was still terribly unnerving to hang onto something he couldn't see.

"I've been around scoundrels trying to hide things all my life. Nobles are thieves with fancier names in many cases." Tygra rounded the building to find a door and when he did they dipped through in silence. "Really though, it's not that hard. A couple of guys trading Mutation, the trader reports back here…if this is where they store it we're really cooking."

Snarf shifted uneasily. "It's far too simple. It should be harder to find than this."

"It might be. I don't see anything." Tygra knelt in a corner of the building, apparently some kind of warehouse, and allowed himself to become visible in the shadows for a moment. It appeared to house many trinkets and pieces of junk, and there was no sign of Mutation.

Snarf sniffed and murmured, "I smell something." He hopped to the ground and prowled across the floor, nose twitching. A dilapidated chair was in his way and he pawed at it. "Near here. Tygra, it makes sense that Mutation would be stored near the docks, but they'd have to keep it hidden."

"You're right, but where-shoot, get back here!" Snarf whisked back to Tygra and with a crack of the whip they vanished again. A grubby cat entered the room and looked around furtively before heading to the chair and grabbing it.

The entire thing lifted up as a single piece, nailed to a trapdoor. Snarf blinked as the man entered it for a minute and then climbed out again, leaving the building without a word. Tygra let the invisibility fade and opened the trapdoor, testing its connection to the chair. "Impressive. Can't say I would have guessed that. Shall we?"

Snarf sighed. "Let me down first. I don't smell anyone." He dropped into the opening and looked around. "Clear. You'll want to see this."

Unlike the walls of the building above, these were lined with smooth stone and gold patterns. There were two carved wooden doors on either side of him and a hall stretched in one direction. Snarf cracked open the door and peered inside.

Vials of synthesized Mutation, glowing softly green, rested on metal racks and shelves from wall to wall. Tygra looked in the other one and whistled. Snarf scuttled over and peered inside.

Money. Lots of it. Gold coins were in perfect stacks, glass containers keeping them straight. This door wasn't locked either which struck Snarf as ludicrous. "Why don't they seal these shut?" he hissed.

"Anyone who knows where this place is must be in on the trade. And I get the feeling they're probably all terrified of betraying anyone."

Snarf looked up. "Or…they might have a camera that can spot anyone that tries to steal from them."

Tygra followed his gaze to the little monitor flashing from the dark corner of the hall. "Hm. Let's mosey along then."

"Aren't you worried?" Snarf asked, hurrying to his shoulder as they turned invisible.

"You think these dumb, lazy crooks watch these constantly if they don't even lock their doors? No way. Besides, as long as they have all their money and drugs accounted for, I bet they won't look back through the records." Tygra paused. "Still, let's keep our heads down."

"You're not giving me any confidence here. Do you think there might be more than one warehouse? How large do you think this place is?"

Tygra shrugged, which Snarf felt under his feet. "Only one way to find out. We'll go a little further and then backtrack."

"Be careful. You may be invisible but a canine species would be able to smell you." Snarf was quiet after this as the halls drew on. Every time a door came into view Tygra looked inside. It was generally a familiar green glow that met their eyes. "There's so much of it," Snarf muttered.

The smell of animal suddenly struck him and Snarf shook himself. "Tygra, it smells like a kennel. Or a pen."

"I think I'm getting a whiff of something." Tygra kept moving, slinking through the hall with a quick, smooth step. "And I hear what sounds like bars rattling."

They turned a corner and Tygra stopped. "Oh. Ghen."

It was a good thing they were invisible for there were several dust-colored jackals in the hall. These weren't what made Snarf's stomach curdle; the barred doors lining each side as far as he could see did. As did the clawed, animal paws clattering against them. Each one was larger than Snarf's head.

Tygra turned around and ghosted back the way they'd come, clambering out the exit, shutting it behind them. "Did you see what I saw?"

"Mutation-injected people locked in cages probably about to be sent north? And rooms full of Mutation that's probably going to be used to further this?"

"Yeah. That." Tygra was heading for the tailor shop again, Snarf shivering. "We need to get everyone together and tell them. There's no way of knowing how much Mutation is down there, or how many people they have. Do you think they would have held people a whole year?"

"Unlikely. I don't have any idea. I just want to get out of here." Snarf felt the sunlight on his back and held tight to one of Tygra's braids. "We leave one crisis to jump right into another one," he sighed.

"Yeah, but if this really is a Mutation hub like we've been hearing, just imagine how much destruction we'll cause these creeps if we take out their supplies here." Tygra had a dirty sort of grin and Snarf tilted his head in thought.

"…If we could get some kind of map or get into their number, perhaps. Let's just convene for right now." The sounds of the creatures in the barred rooms made him feel sick, and he tilted his head back to let the heat of the sun wash away the coldness.

When Lion-O and Cheetara returned, Tygra was already talking quietly to Panthro, whose right eye seemed a little twitchy. The reason seemed to be the kittens; each one held a hand and seemed to be circling around him, tugging Panthro's arms. Cheetara approached and Tygra looked up. "So what did you find out? We've got a place and possibly a password."

Snarf hopped to Lion-O's shoulder. "We've got a warehouse where they store money, Mutation, and people they've injected with the substance. Well, actually they're in tunnels beneath a warehouse full of garbage. There might be more entrances."

Lion-O blinked and Cheetara scratched Snarf under his chin. "Well, you guys were busy. The meeting is supposed to be at a place called the Haus Scarlet. Password is probably fidgets. It's not much, but we had to listen for hours to get that."

Tygra shrugged. "I saw a couple of guys trading Mutation and followed one. I think this operation must be pretty big, but we have no way of knowing how far it sprawls."

Kat was looking up at him. "If we can get to the people that have been given Mutation, maybe we'll find our parents." His voice was urgent and Kit's tail whisked as she pulled Panthro's wrist.

Lion-O cleared his throat. "Okay, back up. We have a meeting place and we know that the rumors about this place having Mutation are true. But we'll need to get deeper in if we're going to do something about it. The annual trade convention is coming up soon, and if they're planning on doing what they did last year, we need to make sure they fail. Right?"

Everyone nodded, even Panthro. "We've been peppering their trade with holes so far. Might as well give 'em a kick in the nuts while we can." Cheetara scowled at him, but neither kitten seemed to know what he meant judging by their blank expressions. "If it's a mess down here we might be able to get to the King's Door without running into any Mutants. It'd be a lot easier to fight enemies that don't have that kind of firepower." Panthro put his hands on his hips, unsuccessfully attempting to free himself from the kittens. "My question is, as Thunderan citizens, do we have the right to try any of this since Tropo doesn't fall under Thunderan jurisdiction?"

"Considering all the evidence we have for the trade being present in Thundera and the fact that Thunderans are among those being abducted – or so we think – I believe so. Besides, Mutation's illegal almost everywhere, and kidnapping definitely is," Tygra continued. "But we don't need these guys knowing what we're up to. If they find out who we are, we don't have a chance of getting out of the city."

"He's right." Cheetara held her chin. "What do we do then? We have to go to the meeting, but in disguise?"

Lion-O chewed his lip thoughtfully. "First let's find out where this Haus Scarlet is."

It didn't take long. The first few people they asked all laughed. "You must be new if you don't know where it is." They all pointed deeper into the city of Tropo and every time the cats followed the gestures.

"What kind of government does this city have?" Cheetara asked. "I see so many people that I can't imagine having one particular species in charge."

Tygra was the one to answer, looking at the buildings and admiring some of the nearest architecture. "There's a mayor in charge of each sector that complaints are taken to. If there's a city-wide issue these guys will convene to discuss it. There's no veto or head power, so no one breed has control. That's one reason this place is such a trade hub; species is less of a factor than almost anywhere else."

Cheetara blinked. "Well that's good."

"The downside is that without a head power, sometimes the mayors get deadlocked and can't get something done if they don't agree. And crime can run rampant while they debate." Tygra shrugged. "Liberty versus safety, the great dilemma."

Tropo was a grand mishmash of poverty and riches further in. Tiny shops sat beside sprawling markets and elderly cats and lizards toted carts of trinkets to sell past them. There was no shortage of things to buy and everyone rubbed elbows with everyone else. Cheetara paused to help a little girl who was trying to scoop up some wooden toys and put them in a basket. She was no older than six and had a piece of her tail missing. Some kind of jackal, she looked dusty and forlorn. "Mama sells the toys Papa makes. He can't bring them to her because he lost his leg to Nfumu."

"This Nfumu's name has been popping up," Panthro muttered. Cheetara gave the girl a little silver. She knew she couldn't dole out to every sad story she heard, but the poor little thing moved her heart.

"Can you tell us if we're near the Haus Scarlet, hon? It's important we get there quickly." The girl gave her a strange look and pointed.

"It's right there. It's got all the red curtains and banners and smells like perfume." Cheetara saw the building from two blocks away, red cloths waving in the breeze.

"Thank you. Can you tell me anything about it?"

The girl had started running with the wagon trundling along behind her but paused and said, "It's the biggest whorehouse in Tropo. Mama won't let me near it."

Cheetara stared after her as she scurried off, mouth hanging open. "Did…she just say 'whorehouse?'"

Kat and Kit looked at each other. "What's a who-?"

"Nothing you two need to know about," Lion-O said shortly. Panthro, on the other hand, grunted.

"You know why there was a curfew in Rana Village? All those women and what they were doing?"

The kittens nodded. "They threw wild parties or something. But not for kids, just grownups. They didn't have candy or games or nothing."

"Something like that. The proper word is a brothel, and that's what it is. Only they can do that stuff all day in there." Both kittens' expressions cleared. "Sounds like the kind of place that would attract scoundrels."

Lion-O watched the banners fly, eyes tracing along the roses and red blossoms that grew along the sides of the building. It was antiquated, vaguely romantic, and he looked at Cheetara. "Well, how are we doing this? Anyone have any ideas?"

Cheetara prodded Tygra. "You ever been in one of these places?"

He looked thoughtful. "Only when the building owners had some business to discuss with Dad. Never been a patron. But the kittens ought not come in for obvious reasons." Neither kitten protested, shrugging and giving it up for grownup nonsense.

Lion-O unshouldered his pack – they were each carrying a pack of supplies since the Thundertank had been removed from the area – and opened it, rifling through the items within. "Panthro, you stay with the kittens."

"Say what?" Panthro sounded indignant but Lion-O just gave him a cool look.

"Panthro, if we get captured we'll need you to bust us out. And the kittens need someone to look after them. And…you hate this sort of scene more than anyone. I'd rather you do something on the outside. Observation maybe. Take care of the supplies."

Panthro's expression became even. "Fine. I'll babysit. Don't get killed."

"Panthro, you know that's not what I-"

But something seemed to have set the panther off, for he gestured to the kittens who followed with whispers and glances toward the Haus Scarlet. Lion-O bit his lip. Tygra shifted and said, "Okay then. Weird. I assume you had an idea before Panthro marched off?"

"Yeah. We disguise ourselves and pretend to be fellow traders." Lion-O said nothing about Panthro and felt Cheetara's eyes on him as he pulled something out of his pack. The twin blades clinked and he strapped them to his back, tucking the Sword of Omens within his cloak securely. What he held in his hands made Snarf cock his head.

"A mask?" Lion-O fingered the edge of the object, a half-mask that covered the nose and upper face, and protected the forehead. It was brass-colored and fringed with red fur. It was styled faintly in a tribal tradition, and when he placed it on his face he smelled the faint remnant of the oil used to clean it before.

"If I make up a story, go along with it, okay? Snarf, stick with Tygra in case we need scouts." Lion-O pulled up his hood and looked around with a calculating glint in his eye. "We need to blend in here better."

It was with some difficulty that Cheetara agreed to unbind her hair, for in Tropo many seemed to walk with their tresses hanging loose; Tygra pointed out that it marked her as a Thunderan woman. He didn't take his hair down, rather choosing to don a hood and one of Lion-O's short cloaks. Snarf climbed under it and hung expertly from Tygra's belt, concealing himself. Cheetara took the last cloak and pulled it over her loose hair. "Hopefully they won't have pictures of the people causing problems with the Mutation trade," Lion-O muttered. "Let me handle any talking. Act like hired mercenaries and look like you don't care about where you are."

With that he turned and led the way into the brothel and the smell of roses was nearly overwhelming.

There was nothing in the scriptures that required a woman to bind her hair – Cheetara only braided the end of it to keep it neat – but culture dictated that everyone with hair of longer length wear some form of hair tie. It was just a norm. And to not be wearing any at all made her feel naked. It was almost worse than the fact that she was standing in a den of prostitution.

Many species of women sauntered by, hips and breasts barely adorned with silks and brocade. Jewels dripped from their ears and throats and not one of them was frowning. Each mouth crooked with makeup and something that made her think of sharp glass. The whole place was heady and made her wish she was somewhere else. A temple perhaps, sober and clear.

Lion-O's mask unnerved her. She had seen the glint of brass in the Thundertank before but he'd never worn it, and it was a curious thing to look it. It reminded her of a beast's face and she found she disliked the two shards of pale metal that jutted down over his cheeks like long fangs. It seemed familiar though. Cheetara wondered if she'd seen it in a picture.

Lion-O had removed the goggles he wore around his neck and somehow he seemed stripped of the sweet, slightly awkward way he usually lingered on the edge of crowds. This Lion-O delved between people without a problem.

In this room his mask wasn't so strange as she had expected. Between poor peddlers and their filthy rags and the stark finery of several nobles, a mask was hardly the weirdest thing she saw. One man was completely naked but for a literal rag and she blinked, taking in the décor instead. He wasn't having any luck with the women. Fine chandeliers of crystal hung from the ceiling and the carpets were hand woven pieces in red and burgundy. A great staircase led up the floors and it was trimmed in gold and pearl.

"Hello sir. Welcome to the Haus Scarlet. We're going to be closing for a private showing this evening." A beautiful feline had appeared, jet black from head to toe and her fur was thick and shining. Her clothes were pale blue and scant, and Cheetara felt a little awkward standing beside her as she coiled her arms around Lion-O's shoulder. "Unless of course, you're another invited guest." She smiled with her even white teeth and spared a lusty wink for Tygra as well. Cheetara may as well have been an armchair.

Lion-O seemed indifferent. "We are. We were sent for earlier today."

Those long lashes lowered and Cheetara noted with disgust that the woman's earrings were made of butterfly wings. "Then you must know the word?"

"Fidgets." Lion-O spoke without interest and the woman suddenly shifted, businesslike.

"Very well. Please remain here with the others until the regular patrons are dismissed." The coy note had lessened and her pretty face was cunning. Greedy. "These are with you?"

"Mercenary assistants." Lion-O shrugged out of her loose grip and dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

The move was so practiced that Cheetara had to eye him. This was a cold, debonair cat, not their sweet, humble Lion-O who blushed at attention from harlots. Perhaps he had a flair for drama as well. They managed to reach an alcove where lovers were usually tucked away and appropriated one of the cushy sofas beneath the curtains. "We're in for now," Lion-O muttered.

"Yep. The brothel must be in on the whole thing if they're willing to cut business short. I just hope they don't have a list of names," Tygra said.

Cheetara crossed her arms. "I hate this place. Why would anyone visit this kind of establishment?" She pointedly looked away from every woman that approached, most of whom just skirted close to wink at her male companions.

One in particular seemed to take a fancy to the boys. "Your girl looks like she knows her way around weapons. I know my way around other things." Cheetara twitched and the girl grinned wickedly. "Come find me after the meeting if you're interested."

Tygra shook his head politely. Lion-O didn't even look at her, the angle of his jaw as apathetic as ice. Not once did he mess with the red fur on his tail, which Cheetara had noticed was a habit of his. Peculiar.

At last the room seemed to empty of extraneous patrons. Many of the remaining ones looked nervous or eager, and when a woman clapped her hands for attention every ear perked. "Welcome. Please follow me for the meeting friends. It's important everyone pay attention tonight, for the rumors are true; just when the next convention comes our Mutation supplies are running low. Red will explain our next movements and then we'll have some underground entertainment as Nfumu shows us his talents in battle. Hurry now."

Rather than heading up the stairs the woman brushed her hand against the wall and it depressed slightly. The staircase suddenly lowered, tilting so the higher end dropped into a seamless passage. Cheetara's heart thumped hard at the sight of it and nodded slightly at Tygra; he'd spoken of an underground tunnel and it would seem that the meeting would take place down below. Everyone began to mill toward the opening and Lion-O stood up, Tygra and Cheetara following in his wake.

"There are at least a hundred people," Tygra muttered. "We won't be able to fight our way out if something happens."

Cheetara didn't like to agree, but she had to admit that some of these were armed and looked like they could use weaponry. She disliked it when they descended the stairs and the flow cramped into a tight group in a hall but the smell of perfume faded and she relished it. Neat, smooth walls on either side directed the mass and when they turned a corner they entered something of an antechamber. It was large and round and in the center there seemed to be a great square pit carved into the stone. Cheetara dared to look into it and spotted blood.

Some kind of arena? She kept her eyes open and wary as they found a place on the edge of the room. A platform currently rested over the pit, held up by silver bars. It was on this that a red-orange jackal stood.

He didn't look very imposing. A little on the weedy side he had short claws and his clothing was fine, pale colors and leather. His hair was short and slicked back as if he wanted to appear suave but Cheetara got the mental image of a greasy little rat as his short nose twitched. He had beady yellow eyes that tracked every person as they moved, flicking back and forth.

Most disturbingly there was someone sitting on the raised platform with him. They seemed to be feline and their hands were bound behind their back and a bag was over their head, concealing their face. Cheetara looked at Lion-O whose cold façade dropped for just a second as he returned her glance uncertainly.

"Welcome everyone. I trust you're all well?" The jackal's voice was high and nasally, wheedling. Cheetara resisted the urge to hold her ears. "Let's just cut to the chase, ladies and gentlemen. The approaching merchant convention will be an incredible opportunity to repeat our success from last year. We currently have eight hundred beasts to send north held in the pens, and if we play our cards right we'll have ten thousand more to add to the number."

The people murmured at this. Cheetara went cold and heard Tygra curse under his breath. Ten thousand people? Mutated? How? "It's important we do this quietly. And no higher merchants; their disappearances would be noted. Just the lowly stall vendors, the laborers. You all know about the interrogations started last year. It took a great deal of gold to hush up the investigators." The jackal – most likely Red – wrinkled his nose in distaste. "We already have guards scouring the area, poisoning the freedom of Tropo. Many of them are Thunderan detachments looking after feline merchants."

The crowd jeered and hissed. Red put a hand atop the head of the captive cat. "And in some cases, merchants from the north are coming down to oversee things themselves. Obviously, this is causing trouble already. We cannot afford mishaps this year; it will be our last opportunity for such great numbers."

He pulled the sack off and the cat gasped, looking sweaty and wilted. Cheetara clapped a hand to her mouth and Tygra grabbed Lion-O's shoulder.

"That's Mi-Ao! He works in Icla near my mother! What is he doing here?" he hissed, so softly that Cheetara could only hear half of it. Lion-O shot him a look and murmured something in reply. Tygra didn't relax, fur bristling slightly. Everyone was too busy crowing to pay any mind.

Mi-Ao looked thin, fur dustier than she remembered and more gray speckled the fur around his chops. She hadn't spoken to him personally, only seen his picture in messengers to her parents, but there was something determined in the set of his brow. "So Lune and Tropo are both putting out Mutation? No wonder Icla's being swarmed lately. Do you know how many snow leopards and wolves have been arrested and their lives destroyed? All because of your filthy drug?"

Red patted his head and Mi-Ao tried to bite him. "I have to admit, I was surprised to hear you'd come down to Tropo yourself Mi-Ao. The land should have been quite…treacherous."

"After I've lost so many good men to your vile killers? You don't know me very well. I took a ship and the ocean led me right into your hive of devilry." Mi-Ao looked around at the glittering, dark-eyed horde. "What if these were your wives or husbands? Your pups and cubs and parents? Think about what you're doing! Something evil is happening, and you're just letting it-!"

Red smacked him, hard. Mi-Ao fell onto the platform and it took him a second to get back up with his wrists tied. His cheek was bright red and his lip had started to bleed. "Well, unfortunately, we can't have you telling anyone about what you've found. So your wife will be a widow my friend. I'd mutate you myself, but without a body there'll be too many questions and too much searching."

Cheetara's fingers went for her staff and she only stopped with difficulty. Mi-Ao looked up at the jackal from his knees. "They'll know I was killed. Suspicions will rise."

"Not when we plant a suicide note on your body in the inn where you've been staying. But it was a nice try." Red looked at the crowd and held out a hand. Someone tossed him a knife and he continued, "We'll inventory everyone's gold they've received for Mutation after this. You'll receive detailed instructions on where you need to be when we make our move."

Cheetara grabbed Lion-O's arm. "We have to do something!"

Tygra's face twitched with rage. "What can we do? They'll slaughter us all if they find out we don't belong. Ghen, Mi-Ao…!"

His hand was fixed on the handle of his whip. "Maybe I can turn invisible…and…something…"

"What a waste of resources. Is this the feared Mutation trade I've heard so much about?"

A refined, calm voice rose above the din and Red paused. The knife rested at Mi-Ao's throat and the cat's eyes were wide, breathing fast. Cheetara looked around. Who had-?

Lion-O suddenly stepped forward, mask shining under the light falling over the platform. "Why not use him instead? He could be a valuable asset."

Red's eyes were like frozen tree sap. "In what way?"

"If investigators do find out about what's going on, you can offer to trade a hostage in place of gold." Lion-O gestured to Mi-Ao, arm sweeping indifferently. "You can haggle about the details with them while these men complete their errands and jobs, and when the convention is over just kill him. It'll buy you time and save your money. This is going to be the last time Tropo will be safe for this kind of project."

A few people began to whisper and Cheetara dared not breathe. Red cocked his head.

"You're not one of us. How did you get in here?"

"I've been interested in joining the trade for a while now. It's spread even to the west and I find it fascinating." Lion-O stepped toward Red and offered a hand. "You're Red, the Alliance general and head trader of Tropo if I'm not mistaken."

"You interrupt our meeting and put our entire operation in jeopardy…who exactly do you think you are?" Red asked softly. The knife moved from Mi-Ao's throat and the cat visibly began to sweat with relief.

"I have many names. The one that seems to be most renowned is the Fangs of the West."

Utter silence fell. Tygra looked at Cheetara and dared not speak until the crowd breathed again. "Of all the things to bluff about," he mouthed. "They'll see right through him!"

Cheetara looked at the new prowl in Lion-O's body and the calculating grace with which he moved. She had seen that mask before she realized; it was an Imperial City style, which was where tournaments of combat were held. Not to the death, of course. She'd never really followed the tournaments, but one name kept popping up as a champion for the past three years. A swordsman who took particular care never to speak, one that was never seen out and about after the battles at the celebrations. He never removed the mask and he always fought with two swords. Their Lion-O was talented, certainly, but…

As she watched him Cheetara finally whispered, "I don't think he's bluffing."

Tygra's expression was a confused one that slowly grew wary. Red snorted. "The Fangs of the West? The fighter of the Imperial City that has won the past three combat tournaments? And what would you be doing here?"

"As I said, wanting to get in on this trade." Lion-O sounded bored and Cheetara watched his tail. None of his nervous habits were present.

"Even if I believed you, a fighter in a tournament is hardly the kind of person we need around here. Scrupulous fighting is stressed in the Imperial City, whereas we value…practicality." Red seemed to think of something and turned. "On the other hand, Nfumu?"

The crowd parted for a large shape and Cheetara felt a little weak when she saw the figure. They'd fought Slithe and Red-Eye, Gyp and Tug-Mug, but this being was larger than any of them. He was a white ape, dusted with brown on his hairless face and finely furred stomach. He wore a leather loincloth and a dingy helmet and no other clothing. There was, however, a necklace around his throat and several bracelets on his wrists. He had a great mace on his back as long as Lion-O was tall, and he stood three feet higher than the cat. "My friend here has faced the Fangs of the West before. I believe it was shortly before the city guards attempted to arrest him for murdering eight nobles for their white teeth."

The ape lowered his head and sniffed. Lion-O's hair ruffled in the breeze. "He has the same smell. He stands the same height. He might be the Fangs."

"Nfumu. You were a skilled opponent," Lion-O said softly. "It's a pity you tried to cheat by pretending your leg was cut. You almost took my head off."

The sallow eyes narrowed. "But you still won. If we battled elsewhere I would have won by ripping your throat out and taking your teeth for my collection." He gestured to his necklace and what Cheetara had taken for white beads clicked. She felt a little sick to realize they were all teeth. Pointy ones. Most of them were bright as pearls.

Tygra shook his head. "Lunatics."

"I suppose we could put you on a trial run as a fellow trader if you could defeat Nfumu in battle. It would prove you are who you claim at least." Red sounded jovial, as if he knew Nfumu would win. Lion-O did not look away from the ape.

"If I do win you'd be a fool to deny me what I want, for I'd prove myself dangerous. And if I lose I'm sure Nfumu will kill me, so you'd be rid of me. I suppose I must accept."

Cheetara resolved to kick Lion-O in the butt the next time she got the opportunity. And she kept her staff ready; if this Nfumu was as strong as he looked and as foul as he seemed, she would be ready to intervene and make a break for it afterward. Assuming they could get out of the pit, and they weren't decapitated-

Mi-Ao was shifted out of the way – for Red grudgingly admitted that having a hostage on hand would be a good idea, and he didn't want to irritate the Fangs if he really did happen to win – and the platform slid back. People were suddenly placing bets and Cheetara was disgusted to hear that this was a common occurrence for those who wanted to leave the Mutation ring or just irritated Red. They would be pitted against Nfumu, who wasn't happy unless he killed someone every twenty-four hours.

The pit was bare of handholds or cracks, perfectly carved into the ground. Even Nfumu could not climb out on his own; onlookers were quite safe as they clustered around the edges like hungry rodents around a farmer's basket. The bloodstains had soaked into the stone and darkened to mahogany.

Lion-O climbed in without a word and Nfumu followed with ease, climbing being second nature to an ape. "To the death," Nfumu said.

For the first time Lion-O shifted. "If you must, try to kill me. I'll spare you if at all possible."

Nfumu's eyes narrowed. "This will not end like the tournament." His last word brushed forward with his mace, drawn from its strap like breath. Lion-O's blades crossed to meet it and the place erupted in cheers.

"Rip his head off!"

"I bet on the Fangs, I like an underdog!"

"Make him squeal before you gut him!"

Cheetara would have wanted to hurl the spectators into the path of the mace and blades but her heart was racing. Nfumu was not only strong, he was good. His fighting style was unfamiliar but the rhythm in it was savage, ready to crush Lion-O if he relented. He went for the ankles, the sides, any place he could inflict crippling damage. Lion-O just kept blocking and dancing around, small and quick enough to duck away from the weight of the mace. He seemed unconcerned with the spikes flying within inches of his face. He knew dirty fighting even if he didn't use it.

Or at least, the Fangs of the West did. Their Lion-O seemed suddenly far away from this fighter.

"Tygra?" Cheetara whispered without tearing her eyes from the battle. "You followed the tournaments of the Imperial City, right?"

"A little." He didn't look at her, neck rigid.

"What do you know about the match between the Fangs and Nfumu?"

"That it was the one the Fangs nearly lost. It was his first championship, and Nfumu was a guest fighter from a forest clan of apes. If Nfumu wasn't so good he wouldn't have been tolerated as long as he was; he was a terror to the other fighters. The Fangs of the West took him down and they say that Nfumu never fought in a tournament again. And he was supposed to be arrested afterward. He killed three guards and eight nobles and left. Some people thought the loss drove him to kill himself because he vanished, defeated by a fifteen-year-old swordsman. Apparently it didn't."

"And the Fangs returned?"

"Every year. He's never pulled a low move in all three years he's been fighting, and he's never removed that mask. And he's never said a word or attending the championship celebrations. They have the trophies displayed in the arena because he never comes to get them." Tygra followed Lion-O's motions like he was watching a clock. The tension was so thick Cheetara felt bile rising; she could almost tolerate Lion-O getting hurt if it made this dancing stop – no, no, what was she thinking? Lion-O had to win this because this man would kill him in a second-

The blades sang and Nfumu had to back up. A long, thin cut along his arm began to seep red and Lion-O twirled the blades neatly. Red watched with an impassive face and Nfumu's eyes were like glass. Lion-O sighed. "You fight as well as ever. But you've not progressed very far. You keep charging in, looking for ways to undermine your opponent instead of facing me."

Lion-O ducked the mace, tail coiling in focus as each blow rained down and missed him. "You're so focused on trying to kill that you forget how to duel. A battle requires some decency otherwise it's not a test of skill. Just who's more perverse when it comes to killing. And a perverse man is shockingly easy to predict."

He was so calm. So disappointed. So bored. Cheetara had never heard him talk like that and her shoulder blades edged together in discomfort. Nfumu's face contorted and she realized he was growing winded. They'd been fighting for nearly twenty minutes – time had positively sprinted by. But that wasn't what was making him angry.

Lion-O wasn't engaging him actively. Sure he was getting little nicks and scratches in, but he wasn't trying to delve in and end this. He was wearing Nfumu down, for the ape had much more weight to carry and the mace was starting to lag. Lion-O didn't want to kill him; he wanted to disarm him and defeat him. And so it was a game of wearing him down.

"He should try to kill him. This guy…he's a brute. You can see it in his eyes." Tygra's tail was low. "Nfumu's too good to let him go. If Lion-O tried hard now he could end this for good."

Cheetara glanced at him. "You're probably right. But I don't think Lion-O wants to kill anyone."

Tygra crossed his arms. Their nerves were fading bit by bit. Lion-O had the situation under control. "A murderer who works for a Mutation ring? One that's trying to kill him? Seems like he'd be able to live with it."

"You could, and I probably could too. But Lion-O…"

She thought of Masti and Araknay and wondered at how much Lion-O still blamed himself for their deaths. Even a wicked person's life was worth something, she supposed, and the value wasn't something Lion-O wanted to tear to pieces.

But Nfumu was evil. Cheetara felt sure that he would have to die eventually. Lion-O's balking had cost Masti his life, and she prayed that he would come to terms with what he had to do.

A loud clang echoed through the chamber and a hush fell again, thick as snow. Nfumu, the brutal killer and Red's right hand man, had been disarmed. His mace lay several feet away and he was clutching his shin. Fresh blood welled in a long scratch on it and he was panting, tongue lolling between his sharp teeth.

Lion-O's blades were still out, one dripping, and he seemed to consider the sight before him. Before he could make any sort of decision Red clapped. "Very nicely done, Fangs of the West. You've won, it's plain to see."

The lion lowered his swords and wiped the bloody one with the hem of his shirt before sheathing them. Ropes were lowered into the pit for him and Nfumu, who remained on the floor until Lion-O had climbed out, the triumphant victor. Nfumu's face was blank, inscrutable, and Cheetara got the feeling he would have torn Lion-O to pieces if not for his injuries.

"You've shown you have skill. Loyalty is a harder thing to prove though. You'll have to be placed on a trial run to see how you do as a trader. Still, with that kind of swordsmanship…"

Red seemed eager and nervous all at once. "Well, we'll see. Someone bandage Nfumu while I discuss a few matters with our newest trainee."

Some were heartily disappointed by Nfumu's loss but others were ecstatic to see new blood in the group. "That big lout's killing spree is stopped. Might finally see some good battles in the underground now instead of a butcher shop."

Cheetara watched Red and noticed that he was unwilling to stand too close to Lion-O. Nfumu watched the cat as he was led away without blinking. Anyone who could best Nfumu was given a wide berth. "My mercenaries are to follow me," he said lazily.

Red scowled. "That's hardly-"

"Unless you'd prefer to tell them they can't?" Lion-O added. Cheetara and Tygra both looked at the jackal and Cheetara kept her face clear. Truly frightening people didn't make mean faces. They just looked and that was enough.

Red muttered something under his breath and let them follow as he led Lion-O down one of the halls, the crowd whispering as they went. "Just go get your orders from the overseers," Red called. Two armored jackals followed him. Bodyguards.

Then a metal slid shut behind the six and it was very quiet. Lion-O sighed. "Don't misunderstand me. I have no desire to take over. Just to get in on the excitement. You've no cause to fear me, Red."

"That's all well and good. As if I fear anyone." All the same Red's hackles lowered noticeably. "I hope you understand what a pickle you've put me in. If you could find this place I'll need to move it."

"We're experts at finding such things."

Cheetara felt Tygra move his elbow and dared to look. Her heart jumped; Snarf had poked his head out a fraction and was sniffing the air. She'd forgotten he'd come along. Tygra paused in his step long enough to allow Snarf to jump down and scurry off down another tunnel. Her throat clenched; be safe, she thought.

Red didn't notice. "As a new member, you'll have some limitations on what you can do. And we'll chip you so we can follow your positions."

Lion-O didn't falter. "To make sure I don't go near guards or attempt to skip the city."

"Naturally. Everyone has a chip in them though, so it's nothing to worry about. Oh…and you should know that even perceived betrayal is met with instant death. Our agents are everywhere and even the legendary Fangs of the West can be downed by a well-placed bit of poison." Red stopped at another door and ushered them in. Cheetara felt the room was too small and forced herself to sit down without flinching. It was filled with a table, a few sacks in the corner, and a shining machine that looked unnervingly like a gun.

Red picked up the machine and it clicked. "Left arm please." Lion-O put his arm on the table and with a pop and a little blood the chip was in. It looked the same as the chip that had been in Talbot's hide, a bump beneath the skin, and Cheetara's eyes flitted to meet Tygra's; those chips would be out as soon as they were out of the tunnels. They allowed themselves to be chipped as well and when that was done Red took one of the sacks and dragged it close. "It takes a surgeon's skill to remove those without bleeding out. Just so you know."

Tygra didn't smile but Cheetara noticed his tail curling.

"As you heard as you listened to classified information," Red began pointedly, "it is the yearly merchant convention that is going to be our best bet to send more mutated people north. We did the same thing last year on a smaller scale. I'll risk nothing interfering with that, so you'll be an observer for this. After it's over you carry Mutation to the different cities, both inside and outside Thundera. We've had trouble with a few of our routes, but you should be able to handle a few disgruntled citizens. This is our main stockpile that we trade from; most of our agents come here to retrieve supplies. You're compensated based on how much you use successfully to infect the populace and send north."

"I understand." Lion-O's willingness seemed to be calming Red very much, who arched an eyebrow.

"It strikes me as strange that an Imperial fighter would come here for such a purpose." The jackal leaned back in his chair and Lion-O shrugged.

"I fought in Imperial tournaments. That hardly makes me a patrot. I enjoyed the fighting but grew bored after a time. I heard there was excitement in this trade, and I was curious. It seems to me sensible to get involved in something that has spread so far across the world that could be lucrative." The lion nursed the spot where the chip had gone in. "Mutation is imported to Tropo?"

Red didn't seem to want to reply but the hilts of Lion-O's blades seem to wait. "Yes. We keep it here, under guard and heavy security."

"Along with the mutated merchants?"

"Until we send them north. We do so in the dead of night, and through tunnels that reach further toward the mountains." Red linked his fingers. "We'll see about involving you in delivering shipments when this is over. You won't be leaving the tunnels until then."

Cheetara bristled and Lion-O frowned. "I see. Precautions, eh?"

"But of course." Red gave them a nasty smile. "You'll have your run of the place though. You can assist with inventory, feeding prisoners and the mutated…"

"Very well. I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell us about how the merchants will be injected at the convention? Considering there will be thousands of people and only a little time."

Red shook his head. "That's a trade secret. You'll find out."

Lion-O got up. "All right. We'll take a look around if you don't mind. Anywhere we should avoid?"

"Hardly. We'll have our eyes on you, so feel free to gallivant wherever you please." Red opened the bag and pulled his hand back out with a glowing green vial clenched in his fingers. "Just don't get in anyone's way."

Lion-O inclined his head and they left the room. Once the door was shut and they'd walked from earshot, Tygra spat. "Ghen. Now what?"

"This isn't bad. We'll figure out a way to communicate with Panthro and the kittens. As long as they don't have microphones around." Lion-O looked up, mask still snugly in place. Cheetara noticed he seemed to shaking faintly; perhaps the battle had worn him out. She forced herself not to touch his back. His shivering did not stop for a while.

A camera was in the nearest hall corner and Tygra shook his head.

"No, those don't come with audio sensors. Just keep an eye out for nosy folks. Where do you think they took Mi-Ao?"

Cheetara shook her head. "I don't know, but I know how we could find out."

It took nearly an hour to find out where food was prepared and another ten minutes to get the job of feeding everyone. The tired-looking wolf making food – she supposed it was food – was irritable. "You don't know your way around? What, I gotta draw a map for you?"

Tygra shrugged. "You're being rude to the Fangs? Man you're brave."

The wolf became much more compliant upon hearing this. She also roughed out the path they were supposed to take on some scrap paper. "We've got a few prisoners yet to be mutated, and that hostage here. But feed the beasts along this route first, they haven't been fed in…oh, four days? I lose track."

A hug pan of something like kibble mixed with raw meat was placed on a cart for them and metal trays of food were placed directly beside it. The pan tended to slosh and Cheetara flinched at how unsanitary this was. Entrails were going to fall on the cooked food. "Keep your hands clear when you feed 'em. They'll take a finger if they can."

Nobody gave Tygra or Cheetara a second look but many whispered when Lion-O passed, pushing the cart. "A warrior like that pushing food trays? Red's not as big a coward as I thought," one whispered.

Lion-O never took his mask off and Cheetara made sure her hood was in place. "I guess they never saw pictures," she said after a while. "Of us I mean."

"Yeah. That's good luck. Hopefully Snarf will keep out of trouble and find something good. Imagine if we could destroy these tunnels…it would take years to rebuild. Everyone on the planet would be safer," Tygra noted.

Cheetara took the trays of food off the cart and wrinkled her nose. "That's just filthy. Raw meat beside prepared food? No way. Papa would keel over." Lion-O smiled faintly at this. His smile faded when they rounded the corner into the next hall.

"There they are," Tygra said grimly. Bars stretched as far as they could see forward on either side, and the creatures behind them began screaming and baying with the scent of food so close. Twisted cats and massive wolves, all on four legs and slavering, threw their heavy bodies against the bars. Lizards skulked beneath them, slightly shorter and slippery. Cheetara nearly dropped the trays but tightened her grip almost too much, fingers aching. The legs and bodies seemed to form a great mass, heaving with breath.

"This is horrible." Her voice was soft and silly in that din, and looking back it was such a papery statement – flimsy and obvious and worthless – that Cheetara was glad nobody ever replied.

Lion-O's "Fangs" façade had slipped and his lips pursed like a small child's. "…At least we can feed them. If we can shut this operation down we can get antimutagen, even a little at a time." He pushed the cart forward and looked around. "There's a dish here, installed in the bars." Indeed there was, a rusty and filthy bowl big enough for any of them to bathe in. There were hinges on the side and with some work Lion-O managed to find a crank. There was an opening the bowl blocked and it slid out with many squeaks of protest, stopping before it fell completely out and opened the gap. "I see. We fill it and slide it back in so they can get to it. Nobody has to go in."

"Even to clean up their feces?" Tygra shook his head, eyes bright. "This is just sick. How are we ever going to get these people cured and out of here? We can't destroy the place until they're somewhere safe."

"It would have to be somewhere they couldn't get to anyone before they were cured," Lion-O replied. The two boys began to tilt the pan, grunting as they lifted it and rested the edge over the bowl. The animals began to scream with hunger. Cheetara hurried to the edge and pushed it up to tilt the slimy concoction into the bowl. Once they'd poured out all they could, they put the empty container down and Lion-O cranked the lever the other way.

It was madness. The animals went for the food as if starving and tore at their fellows to get close. Lion-O looked ill. "They're not supposed to eat like this when Mutation is in them. That's why they're always hungry after they're returned to normal with antimutagen."

"We've never tested how they respond to fresh blood," Tygra said. "Not to mention they've probably been this way for months and months. Even with all those chemicals pumping, the brain realizes the body's starving."

Cheetara turned to the other side, staring at the whining, howling creatures on that side. "Poor things. She said they've been fed but…"

Lion-O touched her shoulder. "We can't linger. They'll think something's up. And then we won't be able to help at all."

Cheetara nodded briskly. "You're right. Come on, we need to deliver the rest of this." She picked up the trays she'd set carefully on the ground and put them back on the cart, rubbing her arms. "Heavy."

The first cell door they came to had a flap in the bottom that could be unlatched from the outside so a tray could slide in. Tygra knocked and said, "Feeding time. Stand back."

Cheetara wanted to give the prisoner their food so she took the top tray and put it on the ground, sliding it carefully through. Before she could pull back a hard hand grabbed her wrist and she screamed. "Let me out of here! I won't be one of those demons! Let me out, please!"

Tygra gripped the hand that held her, dragged it further out and stamped on the man's wrist, hard. The fingers released her and the cat inside began to wail. "Don't make me one of those things! Creator, have mercy!"

Cheetara fell away from the door, shaking all over. She'd seen some terrible things so far, but her wrist was already bruising from the death grip of the cat. "I…we…"

"Sh." Tygra shook his head even as Lion-O ducked to check on her arm, eyes wide. "Don't say anything. We can't be found out, and this guy might not be trustworthy," he whispered. Cheetara swallowed her words and let Lion-O examine her.

"It'll be sore." He helped her up, his fingers cool as they brushed over the hurt place. "We'll find some ice for it soon."

Cheetara let Lion-O and Tygra handle giving the other prisoners food after that. Most were quiet, some screamed like they were mad, and a few threatened to kill them if they didn't open the door. Tygra seemed largely unaffected – he always had been pretty calm about hateful people – but Lion-O often breathed in and out slowly as if he were trying to ignore what he was hearing. "They're just scared," he said softly. "And I don't blame them." The stark difference between the "Fangs" and Lion-O seemed stranger every moment.

When at last they reached the final door in the wall, Tygra sniffed. "That's Mi-Ao," he hissed. Knocking, he said, "Mi-Ao? You in there?"

"Am I to be killed after all? Or will you let me rot in here?" Mi-Ao sounded grim and Tygra got onto the floor to look through the flap.

"The camera," Cheetara said. Tygra sat up but took the last tray and slid it through.

"Mi-Ao it's me. Tygra. Xiame's son."

The man sucked in a breath. "…What?"

"You gave me a message from my mother, Matrae. You told me things were getting dangerous in Icla." Cheetara heard Mi-Ao settle near the door.

"Tygra? It's really you? Creator's mercy, he does hear prayers! What are you doing here?"

"Traveling with a group toward the north. I wanted to check on Mom, and we've seen some crazy stuff on our way. Mutation's spreading everywhere."

"Don't I know it? This ring has been hoarding it for one great project because of some group destroying their facilities and taking down their agents." Mi-Ao took the tray judging from the sound of the clink of a bowl.

"Yeah. We're the group. We didn't start out to take down Mutation facilities, but they seem to be run by people that have ulterior motives to just getting rich off of the drug trade. How did you come to Tropo?" Tygra asked.

"You're the-!? Ha, I suppose Matrae's son would be involved in such things. I've been losing men that come here to deliver goods from the north and I came to investigate what was happening because I didn't want to lose any more people. I started asking the wrong questions and ended up with a sack over my head. Is that cat really the Fangs of the West?"

Cheetara realized they hadn't mentioned it and looked at him along with Tygra. "Are you?" she asked. Lion-O shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes I am. I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I just…I couldn't see any reason it would matter."

"We've got a legendary swordsman with us and it's not worth mentioning? Sheesh." Tygra turned back to the door, kicking it to appear as if he were just antagonizing Mi-Ao. "Yeah, and he's on our side. We're in the trade for now but we're going to try to stop them. They've got big plans for the annual merchant's convention-"

Mi-Ao uttered an oath. "That! I've heard them talking about it! They're going to be hiding in the sector of the city where it's held and…I don't know how, but they intend to drug thousands of people at once and trap them, and take them underground before city guards get wise."

Cheetara bit her claws, pretending to wander around in boredom. "Maybe they're trying to make it possible to take Mutation by inhaling. When it was just the mineral people used to smoke it as a stimulant…maybe they're trying to do something similar. If they unleashed enough…"

"Everyone would inhale it and turn in a matter of seconds." Tygra snapped his fingers. "That must be it. It's the only way they could do it so quickly."

"Maybe. We can't assume anything, but it's a good start." Lion-O crossed his arms. "We have to go, we've stayed too long already. Mi-Ao, just sit tight. We've got friends on the outside and we're going to do everything we can to stop this. Don't give up."

"I won't, boy. Just be careful. You may have defeated Nfumu in the pit but he's not going to take that loss. I've heard things about him…that he fights best in a brawl, not a duel. He'll kill you if he gets the chance. You should have finished him off."

Mi-Ao's voice was nervous and Lion-O closed his eyes. "I know. I probably will soon enough." He sounded so sad that Cheetara hesitantly touched his back. "It's harder than I thought it would be. Killing someone, even a bad person."

"You sound decent. Don't let that keep you from stopping these monsters." They pushed the cart away and Tygra crossed his arms.

"We have to get him out, soon. Red didn't like you usurping his authority; he might decide to kill him at any moment."

Lion-O nodded. "I tried to reassure him, but I don't know how well it worked. Where did Snarf run off to?"

"I was exploring." Snarf fell in beside them. "I've been avoiding the cameras as best I can, but Tygra's invisibility would work better. I could slip out with him and run to find Panthro and the kittens to give them information."

"First we need to get these chips out of us. We could carry them most of them time to fool Red's trackers." Cheetara grimaced and looked the lump in her fur over. "I want it out as soon as possible."

Tygra was as deft as ever picking the chips out when they found a corner that Snarf said was out of the scope of a camera. It hurt but the pain – and bleeding – were quite worth it. "How do you keep it from bleeding too much?" Lion-O asked. Tygra applied pressure to his own wound without issue.

"Red was lying. Or ignorant. I just had to make sure not to hit veins. Easy enough if you've ever watched a surgeon remove a metal shard from someone's arm. Which I have." Tygra gave his chip to Lion-O. "I'll slip Snarf outside and come back to avoid suspicion. Snarf, will you be able to sneak back in on your own? I don't want to risk being seen."

Snarf nodded. "Getting out is harder than getting in because I can't climb out of the trap door alone. I'll have them keep an eye out for anything suspicious near the merchant sector."

Cheetara gave Snarf a quick kiss on the nose. "You're very brave. Thank you."

Snarf wiggled. "Come on everyone. We can put a stop to this, same as we did with Tug-Mug, Gyp, and Red-Eye."

"So that was the Sword of Omens? Why does some random cat have the sword of the royals?"

Slithe's wings beat heavy and loud compared to Gyp's gliding, feathered tips. "That I don't know. I think he's been sent by the king to mend it. That's what she thinks as well." He would need to inject himself again soon but he didn't want to until the last moment; he didn't have much left. Gyp could fly regardless of whether he was on Mutation or not but to keep up with Slithe's wingspan he had taken to Mutant form. Slithe had refused to allow him to ride on his back.

"Ridiculous. Is he going to the old, legendary Door to the heart of the world?" Gyp scoffed. "How stupid. The people of this planet can be so-"

"Every world has a heart. It's real." Slithe gave the bird a cold look and added, "I freed you so I would have backup to take these cats down. Don't make me regret that."

Gyp's face wrinkled with dislike. "You think you could kill me in the air, my element?"

"I don't have to attack. I just have to sit on you. Your body would absorb the shock nicely. Like a feather mattress." Gyp glanced down at the distant earth and seemed slightly less antagonistic.

"So you really believe the Sword of Omens has a connection to the core of the planet? That its energy comes from there?" Slithe nodded. "Why?"

"It wasn't the first of its kind made. It was the second. The first one though…it took all the strength of that heart to make it. It became the heart of a world and the heart itself faded. The Sword of Omens, on the other hand, is meant to coexist with the world it came from. The test subject…I suppose that planet was less…valuable."

Gyp cocked a brow, breast feathers ruffling through the updrafts. "So this other sword took all the energy from another world? What happened to this planet?"

Slithe said nothing. Gyp sighed. "It all just sounds like myth and conjecture to me. But believe what you want. I just don't want to get wiped out when she releases her forces." There was silence for a while as the green world shifted to the sea, blue and flat beneath them. "Is she really going to send the mutated ones up against a demon?"

"She intends to use them to wipe out other kingdoms as well. She thinks I don't know." To speak of mass murder was a light thing for them. "She needs the Sword of Omens and several other items to successfully control the demon. If she rules all the kingdoms she'll be able to find them much easier, and use the dead he kills to fuel her powers. That was the impression I got."

"So why are the cats trying to interfere with the Mutation trade? Do they know that?" Gyp asked.

"They're not stupid. They know the two are connected. They may know more than we do now." Slithe scowled. "I'm beginning to regret ever joining this woman. Destroy our enemies, fine. But attempting to controls demons or gods…it just sounds foolish."

"Assuming you even believe in them." Gyp sniffed heartily but Slithe just shook his head.

"I do. That's what worries me. If the demon has already settled in the core of our world, he will be getting stronger. The woman has little time. It won't be long now before he stirs."

"And if it gains strength? What then?" Gyp sounded almost mocking.

Slithe looked at him. "The world will end." He spoke as if he expected rain and Gyp's condescension faltered slightly. "He will have devoured what gives our world the ability to sustain life. As he does over and over throughout the universe. And he'll be set loose to do the same to others."

Gyp asked nothing more and they sped on toward Tropo. If the cats were headed there, they would welcome them with their fellow generals Red and Nfumu. See them stand against the Alliance's greatest all brought together again.

This was where a scout was invaluable.

Snarf had grown used to the tunnels over the past few days and slipping in and out without attracting attention had become much easier. He used smells, odd nicks in the wall, his own marking of territory – it all made the tunnels simple to navigate.

There were five kennel-cells where the mutated were held. They were sent out every month or so, through one long tunnel until they came up very close to the mountains and were taken by another agent to be chained and sent north. Electricity was a good goad, and vicious as the beasts became they were not intelligent, so a prod worked well.

Eight hundred total were here if Red was to be believed. There were also fifty other prisoners held in cells, most of whom they simply hadn't gotten around to mutating or whom they enjoyed tormenting with the prospect of their deaths. Investigators were in the city but Snarf feared that if he led them to this place they would be killed immediately.

And he still hadn't figured out where this grand project was to take place. The merchant sector was large, as big as his forest, and if he sat down and considered the scape of it he felt weak at the knees. How would he know where to start looking? Panthro and the kittens were hunting for clues, keeping quiet, and Lion-O and the others kept to themselves and tried to glean information. Red was tight-lipped about locations; he didn't trust them. Snarf preferred it when their enemies were fools.

It was either good fortune or providence when, three days later, Snarf sat on a roof with a melon rind between his paws – swarming with mites, delicious – that he heard a familiar whine. Peering over the street, he licked his sticky claws. Red was out and about with a few bodyguards, dressed as a plain merchant. He seemed to be heading east.

Snarf abandoned the melon and followed along the rooftops. They were easy to cross between clothing wires, banners, and overhangs. Nobody ever paid him any attention. Apparently many small creatures liked to climb and fly up there and he scurried along without a sound, following the jackal with hope. Certainly he would have to check on the place where they would try to hold thousands of mutated beings?

It was through an archway that Red walked and the door behind him shut, barred like a castle door. Snarf scanned the wall that held the arch for a window and found one, high up and tiny. He wouldn't be able to fit through it but he might be able to see inside. He clambered up the wall using grooves and designs in the bricks and just managed to make it high enough to grip the window's bars – bars everywhere it seemed – and look inside.

It had to have been a castle at one time. Or perhaps an amphitheater. Archways were every few yards around the rim so it could be entered at any time from many paths, and there was room where there may have once been seats. The walls were thick and all windows were high up, and Snarf spotted what looked like a platform for a speaker. It must have been a theater once, for it looked like a stage.

Other things unnerved him. The fact that the ground seemed to slope toward the platform which was perfectly flat. The immense size of the place. And the fact that all the archways around the walls were sealed shut with modern bars.

Snarf's mind was quick and he put two and two together easily. Imagine all the doors open, and some great announcement. It would be held here, where all could be gathered together to listen. And just say there were tunnels carved below the platform-stage – assume it could be pulled away, just like the platform had rested over the pit where Nfumu and Lion-O had fought – and hundreds upon hundreds of people-turned-beast could be herded along it into a new cell waiting for them. The archways could all be sealed shut beforehand and several vials thrown into the crowds…mindless animals wouldn't know to stay away from the tunnel, an "escape" to their frenzy.

Snarf licked his furry lips. "I think I've found it."

"Thank the Creator, but now what?" Cheetara sat on her bunk and folded her arms around her knees. There were only two beds and both men insisted she have one. Lion-O and Tygra switched nights sleeping with their back against the door, the other in the upper bunk. Snarf plopped onto the bed beside her and let her scratch his belly.

"I hardly know. The place is massive, and if the convention has an announcement that needs making, I'm sure that's the gathering place they'll use. Panthro checked it out too and says that they must be controlling the doorways from a remote somehow because he couldn't find a switch anywhere." Snarf watched glumly as Lion-O paced. Only in this room were there no cameras trained on them. Granted that was because Tygra had found it and managed to wire it so it replayed old footage of all of them sleeping. He'd shrugged.

"They need to watch their security tapes better. Any invisible cat could get in to their camera room and manipulate it however he liked. Did you know the guy next door is really good at interpretive dance?"

At this point the tiger was lounging on the upper bunk. "If we could get a warning out to the merchants we might be able to keep their plan from being a success. But that doesn't get us anywhere. There are still eight hundred people down here that need help and you bet Red would try again somewhere else. We're losing time in this place, and I still think we'll be found out if we stay long."

Cheetara looked at Lion-O. "What do you think? Maybe we should just leave our chips here and get out to warn the other merchants. I'd hate to leave the others, but we could at least get Mi-Ao out before they got wise to us…"

Lion-O looked at her in surprise. "You want to leave the others here?"

"No! I want to save everyone and beat the Ghen out of these monsters!" Her curse was rather shocking and Snarf twitched. "But I'd rather save thousands and come back for hundreds than have that many more trapped down here because we tried to do something impossible." Cheetara buried her face in her knees and Snarf sat up, sniffing.

"What's wrong?" he asked. She rubbed her face against her arms and said nothing. "Cheetara, what is it?"

She sniffed. Loudly. "One of the prisoners was dead today. I went to take him dinner and I didn't hear him take the plate so I had someone open the door. He bit his wrists so he'd bleed out. He killed himself."

Tygra swore, enraged. "He gave up? Cheetara…that's not your fault."

Lion-O stopped pacing and knelt in front of her, taking her hands so she had to lift her head. Her eyes were watery and her bangs stuck up funny. Snarf hopped into her lap and licked her face dry. "Cheetara, there was nothing you could do."

"It was the man that grabbed my arm. He was so scared of being turned into a Mutant. At least when they're already mutated they aren't afraid." She wiped her eyes roughly. "I'm sorry, I'm being stupid. We just have to stop them. Somehow."

Lion-O sighed. "All we can do is stop anyone else from getting mutated. We don't have enough antimutagen to help everyone. And if we set them loose they'll kill us, everyone in the tunnels, and then go after citizens. I wish there were a way to hold them so they could receive help, but-"

He stopped and stood up. His face was slightly shocked as if he'd been slapped. "Snarf, you think there's a tunnel under the old amphitheater?"

Snarf nodded. "I'd assume so. That would be the only way I could think they'd be able to get the merchants down here into a cell safely."

Lion-O was pacing again, fiercely and with energy. "Are the kennels connected to each other?"

Snarf blinked and Tygra interjected, "Yeah, the controls are with the security tapes. It's how they get the mutated out of each pen when it's full and they need to move them to the tunnels to the north. The controls open walls between each one without letting them into the tunnels where the Mutation traders are."

Lion-O whirled around, grinning. "Guys, I have an idea. Not only are we going to keep Red and his lackeys from locking the merchants in the amphitheater, we're going to use his trap as a holding pen. I have some details to write down so Snarf, be ready to take a scroll to Panthro."

Snarf's tail swished and he bared his little teeth in a smile. "I love a little sabotage."

End of Episode 11