A/N: Well, as if it didn't take me damned long enough to write this chapter. Sorry about the delays, everyone. I've got a lot going on right now, the least of which is the beginning planning stages of my wedding. So I'm really sorry for the delays on this, and I'm sorry if my writing's a bit rusty. It's been a while since I wrote Mortal Bonds, and getting back into the muse for it is killer. But regardless, I got the chapter finished, and hit the important points. Please R&R, and remember: credit for all fancharacters used is given to the proper parties in the copy of this chapter in my deviantArt gallery!

Chapter 12: The Hidden Blades

When she came to, Nyrris was startled to find herself in a small, well-furbished room on a linen-covered, strange bed. She felt peculiar, as though a lingering sensation of surging electricity continued to course through her limbs, and she was ravenously hungry.

"So you finally woke up." A voice nearby grunted. She sat up with a groan, and turned to see who spoke. Seated on a chair with her face set in a dark scowl was a rather edgy-looking dog-woman. Her fur was a burnt-orange sort of color marked with white, and her hair was a darker shade of ginger-spice. She wore leathers that were simple in design, but on a closer glance revealed to be layered, like armor, and she was casually spinning a makeshift lock-pick in one hand, as though she knew a formidable alternate use for the thing. When Nyrris met her eyes, the dog-woman's ears twitched backward, threatening to flatten against her head entirely.

"H-how long have I been out?" Nyrris asked.

"A day," her guard answered dryly, as though this news were a great tragedy, "Not that anyone expected you to recover that fast. His Royal Rottingness said you used enough power in your little magic trick to be out for a week."

"Feel like I've been out for a week," Nyrris croaked, "So hungry."

"Then you're lucky. Some food was brought in earlier in case you woke up." The dog-woman said, gesturing at a diminutive table the ocelot hadn't noticed before, which bore a small tray of food upon it. She got up, rolling off the bed and practically throwing herself upon the food, biting greedily into the cold loaf of bread. She felt the eyes of the guard on her the entire time, and after she finished shoveling down the bread, she grabbed the large piece of fruit off the tray, cracked it in half, and held out the larger piece to her. The dog-woman recoiled in shock.

"It's morning, right? Then you've got to eat, too. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day." Nyrris said. The dog frowned, glancing between her and the proffered food, and Nyrris rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on! If it was poisoned, you'd know better than me. Besides, it's a family tradition; no one gets left out of a meal, even if there's not a lot of food to go around. I don't feel right, eating in front of you and not sharing any."

"You're crazy, cat." Her guard snorted, but she finally took the fruit, if a tad reluctantly.

"Nyrris," She said between bites, "My name is Nyrris Ocelotti."

"…Dijana." The dog-woman said after a pause. "Of the dhole clans. Not that there's much of the clans left any more."

"What happened to them, if you don't mind my asking?" Nyrris asked quietly, looking up from her breakfast.

"Thundera." Dijana growled. "Thundera happened."

Nyrris's eyes went wide. "I…I didn't know. I'm sorry," she murmured, "I've only ever heard good things about Thundera."

"Yeah, well…" Dijana started to say, when a look crossed her features and she redoubled her stare, arching an eyebrow, "Haven't you ever…"

"My family has traveled all over Third Earth," Nyrris replied, shaking her head, "But I have never been to Thundera. We're gypsies."

At this, the dhole woman relaxed a bit, shifting her weight where she sat. "I grew up in Thundera. My father and mother moved there from Dog City sometime before I was born." She said, before her expression went dark and cold. "Can't say I have any good memories of cats in general."

"I see…" Nyrris said slowly, resuming her eating with less fervor, until Dijana finally stood up from her seat and gave the ocelot woman a pointed look.

"Come. His Supreme Undead Lordship requested you be brought to him once you had woken. I think you've had plenty of time to eat." She said, and Nyrris grudgingly complied. After all, what choice did she have?

"Dijana, may I ask you something?"

The dhole glared at her sharply, as though the sudden use of her name was offensive, but she nodded anyway.

"Why," Nyrris said slowly as they left the room and started down a long corridor, "Is Mumm-Ra having me treated like this? Ideally, shouldn't I be dead or left in a cell somewhere to rot? Why am I in living quarters being looked after, and taken to see him like this? It makes no sense."

This gave Dijana pause. She slowed her pace for a moment, frowning, clearly deep in thought on the matter. Finally, she shook her ginger-spice head helplessly.

"To be honest with you, I don't know. It makes no sense to me, either." She replied. "But I'm not about to question it, myself. Mumm-Ra's plans always make sense in time, once they've played themselves out."

Nyrris bit her lip, unsure how to respond to that. If she was a warlock, if she could learn how to harness and control the kind of power she had tapped into yesterday…well, then she could sort of understand Mumm-Ra's interest in keeping her alive. But why not lock her in a cell, threaten her with starvation if she didn't cooperate, have her tortured into submission? Something about this entire situation just didn't add up.

She was so lost in her pondering she almost didn't see the two figures approaching them from the opposite end of the hall, and she nearly jumped a foot when the little saber-tooth cub came charging up to her.

"Hello, Miss Nyrris! Hi, Dijana!" He burst out excitedly.

Dijana pulled up short, glancing from Axis to Nyrris.

"Axis, you know this cat?" She asked.

"Uh-huh!" The kitten answered, turning his sweet smile from one woman to the other. "Uncle Grune told me all about the Thundercats when I went to the lower dungeon! And Miss Nyrris is the only one that we caught when they escaped!"

Nyrris glanced from the cub to the figure with him, stifling a response and doing her best to act inconspicuous. For his part, Cazarak the lizard gave absolutely no sign that he recognized her, and redirected his attention to Dijana.

"I apologize if we are hindering you, Miss Dijana," he said quietly, "Axis insisted on coming by to greet you."

Dijana blinked in surprise, her expression softening slightly.

"No, that's alright," she replied, a note of flattered confusion in her voice, "Is there something you wanted, Axis?"

The kitten shrugged, his blue eyes huge and innocent. "Just wanted to tell you to have a nice day." He answered, throwing both women off-guard. "You always walk around looking so grumpy all the time."

"Axis!" Cazarak hissed in a scolding tone, his crest flattening sharply, tail lashing the air, and those blue eyes turned up to him.

"What?" said Axis. "It's true."

Dijana stuttered, rendered completely speechless for a moment, and Nyrris had to suppress a snicker. Grune's nephew or not, the saber-tooth cub was really adorable. He was completely oblivious to the racial animosity between cats and dogs, and there was something profoundly untainted in him, despite who his closest relative was and the circumstance he was in. She glanced from him to Cazarak, watching the lizard berate his young charge for being impolite, and it struck her out of the blue that the soft-spoken slave probably had a major point of responsibility in nurturing Axis.

"It's fine, really," Dijana finally managed to speak, and Axis gave her a playful grin before he lunged forward and hugged the dhole woman's legs.

"Have a good day!" He exclaimed before releasing her and trotting off, "I gotta go now! Uncle Grune's waiting for me in the training hall! Bye, Dijana! Bye, Miss Nyrris!"

"Axis!" Cazarak groaned. "Get back here! Excuse me, ladies!"

And the two were left standing the hall with a few moments of awkward silence after he charged past them, desperate not to lose sight of the kitten. Finally, Nyrris turned to look at Dijana, unable to hide a smirk at the sight of the dog's perplexed expression.

"Cute kid, huh?"

"Urgh…shut up, cat."

She grumbled under her breath the rest of the way as she led Nyrris further and further into the heart of the temple, and the ocelot woman took care to walk just a step behind her. After all, her smile served to only make Dijana all the more irritable, and there was no sense in building a lot of ill feelings between them if Nyrris remained there. Instead, she simply committed to memory Dijana's reaction to Axis and Cazarak to memory, just as she memorized the path they were taking. Gods knew, she might need it some night if she were to try escaping. And as they came closer and closer to their destination, escape became more and more of a desperate need to her; she could feel Mumm-Ra's evil saturating the air like a poisonous cloud as she got closer to where he was. And behind it, roiling impatiently below the surface of that evil, was the staggering presence of his power, that almost-limitless magic.

Something stirred awake in her, and it took her a few seconds to realize her own power was responding to the call of Mumm-Ra's, tracing lines of painful fire along her limbs. She sucked in a hoarse breath, stumbling and coming to an abrupt halt. Dijana, about to open the door they had reached, turned to stare at her.

"Don't tell me you're—"

"No…" Nyrris gasped, staring in shock and horror at her own trembling hands, "It's…it's my magic. It's awake. It's…hungry."

The dog-woman said nothing, but the fur on her shoulders rose sharply and she let out a low growl. Nyrris avoided her gaze, shivering and rubbing the gooseflesh on her arms. Was this going to happen every time she was near this undead fiend? Why…why was her magic so hungry? She knew Mumm-Ra had told her the function of warlock power was parasitic, but it almost felt like a living thing that wanted to feed on all the magical energy she could sense. There was a low, rumbling scrape of stone on stone as the door opened, and that cold voice spoke in Nyrris's mind again, its mental touch as chilling as the vamparic sensation of her magic.

Considering how things went last time, I shouldn't be so generous. But I can be forgiving, given the current state of affairs. Let us try this again, shall we, my dear? Enter.

And this time, despite her better instincts warning her to flee, Nyrris braced herself and entered the dark chamber.

Lion-O's mood had become grim and harsh since fleeing the temple, beating down on himself as he was for not saving their friend. Still, it was a measure of his strength and resolve that he did his best not to take it out on the others. But then, perhaps that could be attributed to the fact even Tygra was careful not to trod on his brother's toes about the matter.

Until about a day later, when he finally said something.

The unusual silence that had befallen them in their haste to escape was broken as the young king slammed his fist against the chamber wall of the Thundertank. No one said a thing as Panthro brought them to a slow stop, and all eyes turned to Lion-O, waiting for him to speak.

"I failed." He growled, more to himself than anyone else. "What kind of a king doesn't protect his own people? I failed to save her. And now Nyrris is trapped in that…that place. For all we know, she might not even be alive! And it's my fault!"

"Lion-O, none of us blame you for that." Cheetara spoke up.

"You did what you could," Tygra added solemnly, "You saved all of us. And I think that's what Nyrris wanted. She stayed to distract Mumm-Ra, so you could escape."

"Don't let her sacrifice be in vain, Lion-O," Razor said firmly.

"I don't want her sacrifice to be in vain!" He snapped, "I want her to be safe!"

No one said a thing to that, and for several seconds, the only sound any of them heard was the timid mewling of Snarf and Kewi. Lion-O was breathing hard, trying to calm himself down, to put his anger at his own failure back in its place. He clenched and unclenched his fists several times, breathing deep, letting the rage and pain flow out of him slowly.

"I'm sorry…" He finally said. "But she's…as much my family now as the rest of you. And it kills me that I…that we couldn't save her."

"Be at ease," Kuncia said softly, "Nyrris is still alive."

"She is?" The twins blurted out, looking at the snow leopard in astonishment. Everyone turned to her, staring with wide eyes, and Lion-O took a step closer.

"How?" He croaked, his voice cracking from the strain of holding back relieved tears, "How do you know?"

"Magic," Panthro guessed immediately.

"Panthro, this is serious!" Cheetara scolded him.

"I'm being serious," the veteran insisted, giving Kuncia a pointed look, "I'm saying you put a spell on something or whatever that Nyrris has with her. That's how you know."

At this, the corner of the snow leopard's mouth twisted upward in the telltale curve of a mischievous smile. "It's as refreshing as the first snowfall, you being able to catch on so quickly," she remarked lightly, causing a blush to creep up Panthro's neck, "Yes, you're right on-target. A few days ago, I gave most of the girls some hair-rings, similar to the one on my headband."

"I don't have one." Jess'ica said in a grumpy voice, prompting a chilly stare from the older woman.

"As I recall, I offered you one," Kuncia answered coolly, "And you refused."

The black-and-silver tabby fell silent, glaring from her corner, and Lion-O spared her a quick glance before looking at Kuncia with a sudden realization.

"The rings were enchanted, weren't they?" He asked, looking around as Cheetara, Wilykit and Cougaress all pulled out small, identical rings, looking at them in surprise.

"Correct," Kuncia said with an approving nod, "A simple spell, but effective. It allows me to keep track of the ring-bearers, and it responds to their body heat. If Nyrris…well, if she weren't alive, my connection to the magic in her ring would grow cold. But let me assure you, Lion-O, she still has her ring, and she's very much alive."

"How do you know for sure it's her?" He challenged. "How do you know someone didn't take the ring off her?"

She frowned at that, pursing her lips. "Only someone with greater magical power than my own would be able to take the ring from her. Otherwise, it would reappear in her possession in seconds." She said hesitantly. "Of course, Mumm-Ra's power would snuff my own in moments if he took it, but I still would have felt a jolt in the connection. And trust me, Lion-O, the magic in my connection with Nyrris's ring has remained steady since I gave it to her."

He fell silent, biting his lower lip. His fear that Mumm-Ra could have easily taken the ring and altered the enchantment without Kuncia's noticing still remained, but his worries were eased for the most part. He had a great deal of trust and faith in the mage, and knew better than to question or challenge her prowess with magic. Slowly, he nodded and relaxed, allowing himself some hope.

"Then there's still a chance we can go and save her." He said.

"Not right away!" Tygra protested. "Look, Lion-O, I'm all for saving Nyrris too, believe me, I am! But we have to beat Mumm-Ra to that blue stone. If my guess is correct, he'll be angrier than ever, and that means he's going to stop at nothing to get that stone before we do."

"I don't like that…but you've got a point, Tygra." He agreed. "We need to get that stone, and soon."

The others began to offer him smiles, hesitant at first, but brightening when he grinned at them.

But in the next second, they were interrupted by a loud, sharp pinging sound, followed by the screeching grate of metal being scratched. They all jumped, looking about wildly, before turning to Panthro, whose eyes went wide with horror.

"Oh, Thundera! NOT MY TANK!"

He rushed to the upper controls, looking out the windshield for a sign of what was hitting them. Lion-O, Tygra, Cheetara, and Razor rushed up to join him. But on glancing out of the glass, they found nothing. Only miles and miles of sand stretched before them, with no signs of life to be found. Had they just imagined that, then? But no…they had all reacted. That wasn't a hallucination. Had they hit some sharp rocks?

"Maybe it was nothing…?" Cheetara said warily.

"No, that was something," Razor insisted, "And my gut tells me it wasn't a very nice something, either."

"Whatever it was," Panthro growled, a deep rumble building in his massive chest, "If it scratched my paint job, it's dead."

With the press of a button, the back door of the tank opened, and one by one the cats ran outside, ready to face the mysterious new attacker, ready to face Mumm-Ra's army. But what they found wasn't what they were expecting.

Their attackers were of average height, with an indeterminable build, garbed as they were in flowing cloth that billowed as they moved. Even with their arms and legs exposed, huge spikes rose out of their armor, nearly camouflaging their weapons. The spiked armor even engulfed their long tails, which swayed back and forth like rudders on a boat, and poked out of the cowls that enfolded their heads. They moved with astonishing speed and grace, bounding a good distance away from the tank, light-footed and limber. They watched the cats warily, but they made no move to attack; surprisingly enough, all but one of them put away their weapons, and waited silently.

"Let me at 'em," Panthro growled as he came lumbering out of the tank, "If they hurt my baby…"

Kuncia shushed him, placing a hand against his chest and gesturing for him to look at the strange desert-clad people. The others all looked to Lion-O, waiting for a signal, and he watched the odd figures as they observed him. Finally, he took a step forward, placing a fist against his chest, and addressed them.

"I am Lion-O, Lord of the Thundercats. We are just trying to travel through this place quickly and quietly. Who are you, and why do you attack us?"

At the mention of his name, the strange people began to stir excitedly, whispering to one another through their veiled cowls, and the only one left holding a weapon lowered it, stepping forward and removing the cowl as they spoke.

"I am Salariss, First Spear among the Hidden Blades."

The cats watched in astonishment, their mouths falling open as the speaker revealed her face, sand-colored scales accentuating her bright blue eyes. She was a lizard, but she hardly looked like any lizards they had seen before, and her spikes weren't a part of any armor; they were sharp horns of bone that emerged from her body.

"And the Hidden Blades have no desire to fight you, Lord of the Thundercats. We offer you our regret and apologies," Salariss continued to speak as the rest of her band of horned lizards lowered their cowls, "We mistook your machine of war for one of that deathless-demon's."

"Pah!" Jess'ica spat, startling them all as she strode forward, anger seeping out of every motion as she drew her sword, "Why should we listen to a lizard? For all we know, you're in league with Mumm-Ra, and you're here to throw us off our guard."

The horned ridges of Salariss's brow contracted sharply as she glared at the black-and-silver cat.

"Is that a challenge?" She demanded, drawing a wicked twin to the scimitar she still held in her hand.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Lion-O said, getting in between the two women, "No one's challenging anyone to anything!"

"But Lion-O—!"

"I mean it, Jess'ica! The least we can do is hear them out!"

She scowled, sheathing her sword and taking a few steps back, muttering under her breath, and he turned to face Salariss, whose calm posture was only broken by the fierce look in her large, furious eyes. She studied him for a second, then gave a nod of approval.

"The Hidden Blades offer you our gratitude, young king."

"Yeah, you're welcome," He said slowly, "But Jess does bring up a good point. We've only met lizards that were in service to Mumm-Ra, by choice or through bad luck. Please, if there's any proof you can offer us that you're against him and this isn't some sort of trick…"

"He is cautious, and right to be, Salariss!" One of the other horned lizards spoke up, and it was with another jolt of surprise that they realized all of these lizards were female. Lion-O stared, eyes wide. He had never seen female warriors among the lizard army. He didn't know they even could fight.

"There is little proof we can offer," Salariss said slowly, "Beyond the hospitality of our people, and our word."

"Right, because your word is pristine." Jess'ica snorted.

"THEY SCRATCHED MY TANK!" Panthro roared.

"The Hidden Blades never break a vow!" Salariss snapped angrily. "Our word is our honor, and honor is life!"

"Du vlenorar loccinar hsvas ka no ra-ken." The other lizard women intoned gravely, inclining their heads. " 'Those without honor, die without names.'"

A chill ran down Lion-O's spine, and he looked at them all before locking gazes with Salariss, who stared back in silence. It was like she was charging the air between them, weighing any possible response against him, and her eyes were colder than the winter storms of Conscientia, harsh and judgmental. But there was something else in her gaze. Somewhere buried beneath that cold, harsh judgment, there was a warrior, a warrior to whom her word was everything. Her honor was everything, he realized.

Those without honor, die without names.

And suddenly, he knew what he had to do.

"Then we will humbly accept the hospitality of your people, Salariss. And I apologize deeply if you felt we have questioned your honor." He replied. He felt the eyes of the others as they snapped onto his back, almost overwhelming him with waves of confusion. A second later, Tygra's hand closed over his shoulder.

"Lion-O…are you sure this is safe?" He asked, and Salariss caught his eye with her tempestuous gaze. For another long second, there was silence as the elder prince searched the lizard woman's eyes, then he too, relaxed. With a dip and bow of the head, he murmured a low apology, and Salariss's mouth turned up a little in a small smile.

"Then the Hidden Blades will escort you to our home, and we extend the welcome of Shashara." She said in a resonating voice, and as one, she and her fellow warriors raised their weapons high, holding the edges of each blade toward the tip of their snouts, as though splitting their faces in two, their faces solemn in their salute. Lion-O glanced back, relieved to see the others were starting to relax…

Until his eye fell on Jess'ica, whose arms were crossed stubbornly as she shook her head, still glaring at the lizard women.

"Sorry, but I don't trust them." She said to him, not sounding sorry at all. He took a quick glance back at the Hidden Blades, not surprised to find their nostrils starting to flare in indignation, and turned back to her, frowning.

"Jess…"

She shook her head again and gave a sharp whistle, and Tibaroan, her pack beast, came charging up to meet her. Without a word, she mounted his saddle and began strapping everything in place, preparing to leave.

"Look, you don't have to leave—" he began, but she threw him a long-suffering look and made small tugs on the reins, trying to keep her animal calm.

"Yes, I do," she replied, "I'm sorry to leave, Lion-O, but I would never trust a lizard with my life. Not even that one slave. Besides…I have to try to find my family and make sure they're alright."

He fell silent, unable to think of anything else to say. Her mind was set, and he wasn't about to change it any time soon, as infuriating as her decision was. They had just lost Nyrris; The last thing they needed to be doing was splitting up over something like this, even if it was just one person rebelling against his decision. Still…he could sense Tygra nearby, and he felt somewhat buoyed by his brother's presence. At least the majority of their little rag-tag family was sticking together.

"Do what you feel you have to." He told her, "But just be careful."

"Don't worry about me, Lion-O." She said, finally cracking a smile. "I have a feeling we'll meet again someday."

She gave a sharp tug on the reins, and with a rear of his hind legs, Tibaroan broke into a full-on run, taking Jess'ica with him. The Thundercats watched them go in silence, the horned lizard women nearby, and waited until both cat and pack beast had vanished in the distance, swallowed by the endless sand. Lion-O turned to the Hidden Blades, lowering his head slightly in apology.

"I'm sorry about—"

"No need to apologize." Said one of the warrior-maidens. "We don't expect most outsiders to trust us."

"Let her go." Salariss added. "Had she come along, she would have made a fool of herself before the people of our home with that temper, and destroyed her own honor."

The other lizard-women hissed sharply, and they all quickly raised their left hands, crooking two fingers above their foreheads and murmuring "du vlenorar loccinar hsvas ka no ra-ken" under their breath. The cats stared at them openly, surprised both at the accusation, as well as how seriously they took this whole 'honor' business. But a moment later, Salariss turned and smiled at them.

"Come! The Seats of Wisdom will be most intrigued to meet you."

"Where is this place, this…" Cheetara asked slowly, waiting to hear the name again.

"Shashara." Another lizard-woman said brightly, giving a small salute with the head of her glaive. "It is near, but you would never find it on your own."

As if this were the greatest joke told, the warrior-maidens all began giggling among themselves, and Panthro, Tygra, Razor, and Lion-O exchanged looks.

"The outsiders may be able to see with healthy eyes," said a third woman, "But the desert has a way of blinding even the deathless-demon to the presence of Shashara."

"Look, this is all well and fine," Panthro said impatiently, "But will we be able to hide my tank there, too?"

Once again, the lizard women erupted into a round of giggles.

"Do you intend to arrive at Shashara in that war machine?" The second asked.

"We don't go anywhere without my tank!" He said firmly.

"Very well," Salariss said with a wicked grin, "Ride in your machine. But can it keep up with us?"

And before Panthro could breathe a word about the virtuous speed of his beloved Thundertank, the Hidden Blades bounced on the soles of their feet, spun 'round, and ran, kicking up spinning clouds of dust as they practically flew over the sand.

"Oh, those show-offs!" Panthro yelped, "Alright, everyone! Haul your backsides back in! My tank is NOT losing to a bunch of girls!"

A/N: Again, hoping you liked this chapter, as well as the introduction to Salariss and the Hidden Blades. You'll get to see more of the horned lizard society in the next chapter. (Hey, if my friend an create Conscientia and the snow leopard society that broke off from the main branch of the cats, why can't I make an Arabian Nights-inspired city of horned lizards who discarded the ways of their cousins long ago?) Also. This is the last chapter with Jess'ica. I know a lot of you liked her, (and quite a few of you hated her,) but the fact of the matter was that I was just giving her a cameo to help boost interest for her creator, who is considering doing her own fanfic. Plus, I hate the idea of having her in any longer, because she'd butt heads with Salariss, which would ruin a lot of the subplots, and I don't want that. So it's bye-bye, Jess'ica! Anyhow, done rambling. Again, R&R please!