Chapter Eight
Locked in that cell, with no means of measuring the passage of time, I soon had no idea if it was night or day in the outside world. Sometimes, a Mutant or Lunatac came to deliver a small amount of food, but they never stayed long and they never spoke in my presence except to mutter rude oaths about Thunderians. Nevertheless, these brief visits indicated one thing; I was not being left to rot, so the Cult of Mumm-Ra clearly wanted me alive for some reason. But what?
I tried asking Lannal, but he didn't appear to know either, though he hinted darkly that we were being saved as Offerings. And he had already told me what that meant, that we were going to be killed in some barbaric ritual. The thought made me feel physically sick; if only there was a way to get out of here, my fellow Thundercats and I could put an end to the Cult of Mumm-Ra and their evil plans. But I had no way of knowing where they were being held and, even if I had that information, there was still the matter of getting out of my cell.
To take my mind off my current situation, I thought of my childhood on New Thundera, of playing with Hunter, of listening to Wilykit's stories. In addition to telling us about the Thundercats' recent history, she knew a number of stories dating back to the days before Old Thundera was destroyed, stories so old that their precise origins had, in many cases, been lost. However, ten such stories had been compiled by a mixed-breed Thunderian woman named Felindra and published under the title Felindra's Fables. I had heard them all from Wilykit - The Foolish Son, The Tiger Maiden And The Sapphire Brooch and all the rest. But my favourite had always been The Lion's Pride, the story of a young Lion Thunderian who thinks he is "better than everyone" - until he is taught a painful lesson.
Anyway, I went through all those stories in my head as I sat in my cell, even though I had long since outgrown them. It was the only way I could avoid thinking about a situation I could do little (if anything) to change. Whatever the Mutants and Lunatacs of the Cult of Mumm-Ra were planning, I knew I would find out sooner or later, not that I was looking forward to it. But, cut off from my fellow Thundercats, I had no choice but to wait, wait for my captors to make their next move . . .
I was halfway through telling The Lion's Pride to myself when there was a noise outside my cell: the jangling of keys, followed by the clunk of a door being unlocked. Light flooded in from the passageway, prompting me to close my eyes against the glare; I had grown accustomed to the dimly lit cell and the light from outside hurt my eyes. Then, I heard voices.
"Take him!" The voice belonged to a Reptilian Mutant, but it wasn't Lizarius. In fact, while it retained the harsh, sibilant quality, the pitch was higher, leading me to suspect that this Reptilian might be female. I slowly opened my eyes to look; there she was, a tall lizard-like creature with green scales, dressed in a purple tunic. Gold bangles decorated her arms and she wore a necklace of teeth round her neck. But I scarcely had time to register her appearance before I was grabbed by two Jackals (one of whom I recognised as the one called Jacklon) and my hands were tied behind my back.
As I was dragged out into the corridor, the female Reptilian taking the lead, while the two Jackals walked on either side of me, I heard a voice call out from nearby. "Don't tell 'em anything, boy!" I recognised that voice instantly; it was Lannal and he sounded very earnest. I had never seen him face-to-face, having only conversed with him through a hole in the walls dividing our cells, but I had no doubt what he meant.
"We'll have to ssssee about sssssilencing that old fool!" the female Reptilian hissed, as I was marched up the corridor and out of the dungeons.
"All in good time, Karsa," said the nameless Jackal. (I did not know why the one named Jacklon never spoke. Was it because he was unable to? Or had he taken some sort of vow of silence?) "First, we must bring this Thunderbrat to Lizarius."
"Lizariusssss issss a fool!" snapped Karsa, as I now knew the female Reptilian to be called. "If he'd left it to ussssss . . ."
She never got to finish her sentence for, at that very moment, Grimla appeared on the scene, glaring at the three Mutants. "May I remind you, Karsa, that Lizarius is our High Priest. And you know what the penalty is for insulting him." She nodded pointedly in Jacklon's direction at this point. Jacklon opened his mouth and pointed inside it. Despite myself, I couldn't resist the urge to look inside; what I saw was a set of yellowing fangs - and a gap where a tongue should have been. So that was why he didn't speak; he must have insulted Lizarius at some point and had his tongue cut out as punishment.
I soon found myself in what appeared to be a throne room. Lizarius was seated upon a large chair, as two Mutants (a Rat and a Vulture) hovered around him, ready to tend to his every need. A rough prod from Karsa forced me to my knees, a position from which I could easily see the Reptilian's large, scaly feet. He wore no footwear, but, judging by how thick his skin looked, he didn't need to anyway.
"Ssssso, Sssssstorm of Thundera," Lizarius said, beginning without preliminaries, "have you had time to conssssssssider your ansssswer yet?"
"Yes, I have!" I replied bravely, guessing what his question was.
"And what issss your ansssssswer?"
"No!" Defiantly, I looked up, deliberately making eye contact with my captor, determined to show him that I wasn't afraid. Pumar had once told me that all bullies are pitiful cowards, who gain a sense of power from intimidating those who can't fight back. Well, I wasn't going to let some overgrown lizard push me around.
"And what do you mean by that?!" Lizarius demanded, as the two Jackals who had escorted me forced me to bow my head once more.
"What I said," I replied, keeping the same defiant tone in my voice. "You'll never get your scaly claws on the Statue fragment! I'll never reveal its whereabouts! Never!"
At this, Lizarius got to his feet and motioned the two Jackals to pull me up off the floor. As I was dragged to my feet, I was relieved not to have to kneel on that hard floor a second longer. But I was also apprehensive, knowing I had just crossed someone who would not stand opposition from anyone, least of all a young boy from a race his kind had once waged war against. "Sssssso?" Lizarius said. "The brat choossssesssss to defy usssss?! Very well," he said to me, "you were warned what would happen if you refusssssed to ssssspeak." He turned to the Jackals. "Take him outssssssside - I will meet you there."
Heart pounding, I was led out of Castle Plundarr and taken to what appeared to be a temple, the temple where the Cult of Mumm-Ra evidently worshipped. It was certainly the most evil-looking place I had ever entered, even worse than the Castle where I had recently been imprisoned. There was only one room and it was dominated by a great stone altar, a design featuring a two-headed snake on a circular background carved on the front. And kneeling before this altar, their hands tied behind their backs like mine, were my fellow Thundercats: my parents, Lynxari and Pumar. There was no sign of Ocelotra or Fangelo, but my relief was tempered by the anticipation of what the Cult of Mumm-Ra were about to do.
"Storm!" my mother cried out the second she saw me. But she was silenced by a rough prod from the Infra-sight Lunatac guarding her and the others.
"Silence, Cat!" he warned. "You were not given leave to speak!" Like all Infra-sight Lunatacs, this one had white skin and large red eyes with white pupils; those eyes gave me the creeps, appearing to bore into me as they did, albeit not in the same way a psychic's eyes might do so. Rather, it was as if there was no hiding from those eyes. For that is the special talent of the Infra-sight Lunatacs, the ability to physically see that which is invisible to other races.
Just then, I was distracted out of my thoughts by the crash of a gong from somewhere nearby. And, seconds later, Lizarius marched into the temple, dressed in the full regalia of a High Priest. He had swapped his usual tattered loin cloth for a dark blue wraparound skirt, a gold belt around the waist and a scarlet cape over his powerful shoulders; I could see his tail poking out from the cape's hem and would have laughed at the sight had the situation not been so dire. The cape was fastened by a large buckle bearing the two-headed snake design which decorated the altar, the design being repeated on the Reptilian's ornate headdress.
At the sight of him, all the Mutants and Lunatacs in the temple dropped to their knees. I thought about taking my chance to escape, but Jacklon put an end to that idea by making that gesture where you pretend to cut your own throat. I decided it wasn't worth the risk. Besides, how could I leave four of my fellow Thundercats, including my own parents, to the fate that surely awaited them?
Lizarius positioned himself directly in front of me, standing so close that I could actually smell his breath. And, when I say I could smell his breath, I really mean it! Hadn't they ever heard of breath mints on Plundarr? But I digress. It turned out that Lizarius had something to say to me.
"Sssssso, Thunderbrat," he said. "I'll give you one lassst chance to tell me where the fragment isssss or . . ."
"The answer is still "no"!" I shot back. "And I told you not to call me "Thunderbrat"!"
"In that cassse," Lizarius told me, "what happensssssss next is your doing!"
At a silent signal from Lizarius, two Rat Mutants seized hold of Lynxari and dragged her before their High Priest. She cried out as one of the Rats yanked on her long hair, forcing her head back and exposing her throat. Lizarius walked towards her, a silver knife in his hand; I did not need anyone to tell me what he planned to do.
"Sssssee, boy?" Lizarius said, pressing the knife against Lynxari's throat. "All I have to do isssss presssss a little harder and she diesssss! And she won't be the lassssssst! All thesssse prissssssonerssssss . . ." He gestured towards my parents and Pumar. " . . . will die unlessssss you co-operate!"
"No! Please!" my mother cried out from where she was being forced to watch helplessly as Lizarius threatened Lynxari. "She's a young mother! My son is nearly a man! If you want to kill one of us, kill me!" The only reply she got was another rough prod from the Infra-sight Lunatac.
"Even if was willing to tell you what you want to know," I said flatly, not trusting Lizarius for one second, "what's to stop you killing all of us anyway?" I was trying to stall for time, to distract Lizarius with questions which, if nothing else, might at least keep us all alive a little longer. But how much longer? Not for the first time, I wondered if I would ever see New Thundera again.
Or was I destined to end my days as an Offering made by the Cult of Mumm-Ra? If so, I wished I could have seen at least a few more years of life, at least enough for me to ensure that my family's noble line continued for another generation. But, as things stood right now, it looked as though my family would die out in this evil temple. For, though Lion-O's union with Nessia had produced two children, his daughter, Andromeda, had neither married nor produced any offspring.
In any case, I was not going to co-operate with Lizarius. I was not going to tell him what he wanted to know; it was vital that no more fragments of the Statue fell into the hands of the Cult of Mumm-Ra. But, as I watched the Reptilian pressing the knife against Lynxari's throat, my mind flashed back to the moment he had threatened to kill Lata, Sita, Sylvia and Tigon unless Leopardo gave up the fragment. Leopardo had said he could not sacrifice children, even if doing so kept Mumm-Ra at bay, and, young as I was, I knew I was now faced with a similar dilemma. If I refused to talk, my parents, Lynxari and Pumar were doomed; if I did talk, the Cult of Mumm-Ra would be one step closer to their goal and an evil unknown for more than eighty years would be unleashed once more. Either way, it looked as though I was the loser.
Just then, however, there was a sudden explosion from overhead and the scene was quickly enveloped in thick smoke. I could not see what was happening, but I could hear the Mutants and Lunatacs coughing and cursing audibly, using language that does not bear repeating. But let's just say that none of it was the sort of stuff one says in polite company, being the sort of language usually confined to a barracks.
"Quickly! Run for it before the smoke clears!"
The voice which shouted this from overhead was that of an adult male. I could not see the speaker through the smoke so I could not identify his race. But, as I held my shirt over my mouth and nose to avoid inhaling any of the smoke, I couldn't help but trust him; he had the sort of voice that you instinctively feel belongs to someone who holds a position of authority but would never do anything to abuse it. I had no idea who this man was or how he had managed to appear on the scene just when all seemed lost, but I knew we had to take this chance and escape. "Come on!" I called to my parents, Lynxari and Pumar, running off in the direction of the voice.
As we emerged from the smoke, Lynxari coughing as she did so, we saw our rescuer for the first time. He was a fair-haired human in his mid-thirties, who wore a black uniform and sat astride a hoverbike, currently stationary in mid-air. But, as the five of us drew level with him, he brought the bike in for a landing, then climbed off with the casual air of one who has had years of practice. He pulled something out of his pocket and held it up for us all to see; this object was roughly the size of a wallet and appeared to be a highly sophisticated identity card, complete with a holographic image of its holder.
"Officer Kayon, Galactic Police," he told us, speaking crisply and precisely. "And you would appear to be the Thundercats." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes, we are," my father replied. "At least five of them. I'm Lord Feleo. This is my wife, Lady Amber." He gestured towards my mother. "My son and heir, Storm," he added, pointing to me. "And the others are Pumar and Lynxari." He indicated the Puma and the Lynx as he said their respective names.
"Where are the rest of you?" Kayon asked next.
"Most of us are back on New Thundera," replied my father. "But two others came to Third Earth with us . . ."
"Yes, Ocelotra and Fangelo," concluded Kayon. "They contacted us from the Tower of Omens when you failed to report in. I was immediately dispatched to Cats' Lair, but I arrived too late to stop all of you from being captured. And, now, we have to get out of here," he added, casting around for any sign of pursuit.
Though the others followed Kayon without hesitation, I hung back. "Wait!" I said, causing everyone to look in my direction. "We can't leave yet - the Cult still have prisoners in Castle Plundarr!" I added, thinking of Lannal as I spoke. "We can't abandon them!"
"I don't intend to," Kayon told me. "But we can't do anything by ourselves; there are only six of us against the whole Cult. Rushing in headlong wouldn't do anyone any good, least of all the prisoners you spoke of. But, if we can organise a proper attack force . . ."
" . . . we might have a chance," I said, finishing Kayon's sentence for him. "But what do we do in the meantime?"
"Come with me to the Refuge," replied Kayon. "Your friends, Fangelo and Ocelotra, are already there."
I had no idea what this Refuge was - or where it was - but I knew we had to do as Kayon said if we wanted to get clear of this place. For, even as we stood here, the Cult of Mumm-Ra were certain to be planning our recapture. And my experience of the Cult told me that they would not rest until they had what they wanted, until I disclosed the whereabouts of the Statue fragment Wilykit had given me.
"Well, they won't get it!" I vowed, as I hurried after the others.