Chapter Thirteen

The two armies clashed with a mighty roar, each determined to defeat the other. I felt the blood pounding in my temples as I raced towards the enemy, the Cult of Mumm-Ra; this was what my whole life had been leading towards, my first battle - and hopefully the first of many. But I knew that, as a Thundercat, I could not attack wantonly; the Code of Thundera was clear on that point. A Thundercat may only fight in order to defend the weak and ensure that evil cannot gain too great a hold anywhere.

Anyway, I was soon in the thick of battle, grappling with a young Reptilian Mutant. He was probably not much older than I was, but I did not think too much about this at the time; all I saw was another enemy, another member of the Cult of Mumm-Ra. Wielding a dagger which Tia had given me just before our army made its charge, I fought the young Reptilian, using my dagger to parry the blows he delivered with his own blade. All the while, I was careful to keep clear of his tail; even though he was not quite full grown, I knew his tail would still be a pretty powerful weapon.

Around me, the rest of my allies fought. I glimpsed Tia and her Warrior Maidens (Jaya among them) battling a squad of Jackal Mutants with deadly efficiency, sending several Jackals yelping out of range of the stone the Warrior Maidens fired from their slings. And my parents were fighting back-to-back, in a pose which suggested that, if it came to it, they meant to fall together. I prayed that wouldn't happen, though; not only would it leave me an orphan, it would mean I would have to become Lord of the Thundercats a lot sooner than I had expected.

But I did not have time to think about this at that moment. I had to fight, fight to defend the Code of Thundera, fight to stop the Cult of Mumm-Ra from spreading its evil.

Jaya, her axe drawn, fought her way over to me. "Storm," she said, breathing heavily, "have you seen Icelia?"

I shook my head. The battle had been going on for some time now and I hadn't seen the Ice Lunatac since it started. And nor, it seemed, had Jaya. We still didn't know if we could trust Icelia and that worried me. For all we knew, she was still in the battle, but fighting on the side of the Cult . . . I was startled out of my thoughts when a blast of energy knocked me off my feet and looked up to see that a Psy Lunatac had hit me with his mental powers. I recognised him; it was Psychon, who was clearly adept at mental combat as well as what Grimla had called Concealment and Masking.

Grimla herself was further back, away from the thick of the fighting. I wasn't surprised - after all, I had already seen enough of her to know that mental power was her forte - but it worried me nonetheless. Something - I can't explain what - told me she must be planning something. But what? I had no way of knowing and, besides, my current priority was avoiding Psychon's attacks. I picked myself up and turned to face him, trying to remember the lessons Pumar had taught me. But Pumar's lessons had been based around an opponent who used physical combat, not one who could knock you off your feet with a single thought.

As he made to attack me again, I decide to try dodging. Perhaps, if I could avoid his energy blasts, I would be able to counterattack, not that a simple dagger was likely to be much use . . . For a moment, I wished I still had my chakram, but I'd lost it when the Cult captured me and it had never been recovered. I had to make the best of what I had.

Psychon raised his hands above his head, preparing to blast me with psychic energy. I quickly assessed which direction he was going to aim, then quickly dodged in the opposite direction. He looked taken aback when he struck nothing but empty air, but quickly recovered. "Clever," he told me. "But not clever enough." He pointed at me again and something which looked like a glowing purple rope shot out of his hand and coiled around my ankle before I had time to think. I struggled and kicked, but to no avail; it was as if the "rope" tightened every time I moved.

"I have him!" Psychon shouted triumphantly. I closed my eyes in despair, instinctively knowing who he meant by "him" - me. Right then, I had no idea what was happening around me, no idea where my fellow Thundercats were. All I could think was that a momentary lapse had led to my being caught by the Cult of Mumm-Ra for a third time.

That was my last thought before something small and sharp pricked my arm, causing me to collapse unconscious.

When I woke up, I was lying on a hard table with three horribly familiar faces looking down at me, the faces of Lizarius, Grimla and the female Reptilian called Karsa. And they all had triumphant smirks on their faces, which could only mean bad news for me. And what had happened to my parents and the others? It seemed to me that things were going from bad to worse, that we were all caught up in a nightmare from which there was little hope of escape.

"Ssssso you are awake, Thunderbrat," Lizarius said, leaning closer to me.

"What did you do to me?" I demanded hoarsely. I longed to spit in his ugly Reptilian face, but my mouth felt as dry as a desert. I had no way of knowing how long I had been out, but I guessed it must have been a few hours at least; nor did I have any way of knowing what had happened to everyone else who had been fighting the Cult of Mumm-Ra.

"A ssssleep dart." It was Karsa who spoke this time, moving sinuously around the table as she spoke. "And, now, you will reveal where you hid your fragment of the Ssssssstatue!" she added, hissing menacingly.

"You already know my answer to that!" I retorted. "I would rather die than tell you!" I glared at my three enemies, two Reptilian Mutants and one Psy Lunatac, daring them to do whatever they liked to me. It wouldn't make any difference; I would never tell them what they wanted to know. And, if Grimla tried her mind-probing powers again . . .

"Ah," Lizarius said. "But would you allow your fellow Thundercatssssss to die becausssse of your stubbornnesssss?"

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, trying to stall for time.

"Ssssssimple," replied Lizarius. "We have a Doomssssssday Misssssile trained on New Thundera. And, unlessssss you tell usssssss what we want to know, we shall fire that Misssssssile and New Thundera will be no more! Choossssse, Thunderbrat!"

I closed my eyes in despair. Icelia had told me that a Doomsday Missile had destroyed the Ice Moon of Plundarr, not that I was entirely convinced she had been telling the truth. But I knew enough about Doomsday Missiles to know that any planet caught in the path of one would be reduced to space dust in a matter of seconds. If the Cult of Mumm-Ra had their way, the Thundercats would lose their home planet for a second time - and, this time, there would be no escape for those on the planet. When Old Thundera was destroyed, the population had fled into space, but they had had plenty of advance warning, enough to allow them to plan the evacuation months before it became necessary to leave. There would be no time for any of that if the Doomsday Missile was launched.

I wrestled with my dilemma. Should I keep silent and allow my home planet to be destroyed, or should I reveal the information the Cult wanted and betray the promise I had made to Wilykit?

"I ssssssee you need sssssome persssssuading," Lizarius said when I hadn't spoken for several seconds. "In that cassssssse . . ." He turned to Grimla, who had been observing the proceedings in silence. "Ssshow him!" he ordered. "Sssshow him what will happen if he refussssesss to talk!"

With an expression which matched her name, Grimla pointed to the nearby wall and began to project images onto it. I saw New Thundera, the world where I had been born and brought up, hanging in space. Then, I saw a huge missile heading directly for the planet; it hit and exploded with a blinding flash which completed whited out the image Grimla was projecting. When the explosion faded, there was nothing left of New Thundera except rubble floating in space. "No . . ." I whispered, my voice choked. In that moment, I understood how those who had witnessed the destruction of Old Thundera must have felt.

"You sssssee?" Lizarius hissed. "If you don't tell what we want to know, we will launch the Doomsssssday Missssile and desssstroy your misssserable planet!"

"The Missile is already primed," Grimla added. "All we need to do is press the button and New Thundera is finished!"

I wrestled with my conscience. Should I tell them what they wanted to know, thereby allowing them to win? Or should I remain silent and sacrifice my home planet? But, in the end, there was no contest; several of my fellow Thundercats were still on New Thundera and no Thundercat will ever sacrifice any of their own. "Then I have no choice," I said flatly. "I - I'll talk."

"Ah! Ssssenssssible boy," said Lizarius, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "Continue."

"My piece of the Statue of Omens," I said, forcing each word out, "is in Cats' Lair. But I'm the only one who knows precisely where . . ." I broke off and waited to see what my captors would do next. I hated having to reveal information that I knew would help the Cult, but I did not want to see New Thundera destroyed. I was a traitor, but what other choice was there?

"Then you must take us there," Grimla said. "And, in case you have any ideas about escaping, Gravlok will be coming with us."

I don't remember much about what happened immediately after that. Perhaps Grimla put me under some sort of hypnotic influence to make absolutely certain that I would co-operate, but I don't know for certain. Whatever happened, all I have now are vague recollections of being led to Cats' Lair, of bringing the Statue fragment Wilykit gave me out from its hiding place, of handing it over to Lizarius. But none of those memories are very clear; in fact, they are "as clear as thick mud", to use Snarf Emala's expression.

My next clear memory is of being shoved into a dank cell and the door being slammed in my face, plunging me into darkness. As the key was turned in the lock, I slumped down on the floor. It looked like it was all over; the Cult now had all the pieces of the Statue. I had struggled to keep them from getting their hands on the piece I had been given, but, like the others who had been entrusted with them, I had failed.

And, now, it looked like there was nothing that could stop the Cult from carrying out their mission and freeing Mumm-Ra. Once the Statue fragments were destroyed, all that would remain was to release him from the Book of Omens. I knew the Book could not easily be penetrated, but that wouldn't help if it was destroyed - and destroyed it surely would be if the Cult of Mumm-Ra had their way. Then, Mumm-Ra would be free, free to wreak havoc once again. And the Thundercats were sure to be among his first targets; having failed to defeat them eighty years ago and having been imprisoned in the Book of Omens by my great-grandfather, he was bound to be out for revenge.

And what had happened to everyone else? Had they been captured as well and, if so, where were they? What plans did Lizarius have for them? These questions and countless others chased themselves round my head as I crouched in that dark cell. But there was no answer to any of them, at least none that might have offered me at least a small amount of hope.

My thoughts then turned to Lynxari, who was attempting to take Koris, the Berbils and the Brutemen to safety in the Feliner III. I recalled how my mother had wanted me to escape as well, only for me to refuse because I felt I needed the chance to prove myself in battle, that I was too old to be treated like a child. Well, my first real taste of battle had ended with me being captured and forced to reveal vital information to our enemies. I sighed; it felt as though everything was collapsing around me and there was nothing I - or anyone else - could do to stop it.

Suddenly, I became aware of a faint light in the corner. It was too dim to see by, but it was definitely there, a white glow in a darkened cell. But where had it come from? There had been no lights in this cell when I was thrust into it and no-one had come in to provide any illumination; they probably thought I wouldn't have any use for light soon anyway. Nevertheless, it was there, glowing faintly in an otherwise completely dark cell. So where had it come from? What could have caused it to appear?

Slowly, the light grew brighter, allowing me to see again. I had no idea how long I had been in this cell, but it can't have been long because I found that my eyes did not need all that much time to adjust to the light. But there was something strange about it, something otherworldly . . . I can't quite put it into words, but I had a feeling that it somehow did not belong to this realm, that it had come from . . . somewhere else.

I shivered, but not because the cell was cold. It was that light that made me shiver; I can't explain why, but it unnerved me. And that was pretty rare for me. Perhaps all the things that had been happening lately were starting to get to me; after all, even a Thundercat can only endure so much. I found myself staring at the light, not that there was much else to look at in my cell - apart from the door and four blank walls.

Gradually, I noticed that the light was changing, morphing into a humanoid shape. I saw a head, a torso, two arms and two legs, but no identifying details. These, however, soon emerged, revealing an elderly female Thunderian dressed in a long gown bearing a Thundercat insignia, a distinctive stripe down the centre of her hair. I recognised her immediately - until recently, she had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember - but how could she be here now?

"Wilykit?" I whispered, not sure whether I could believe what my eyes were seeing.