Chapter 10

He reached high overhead and dug his claws into the semi-packed dirt of the shaft wall.When he was confident of his grip, he freed his other hand and repeated the movement.His powerful biceps flexed, pulling his body upward until his chin was level with his hands.

A few more precious inches, bought with pain, tears, and a hatred greater than he'd ever known he could feel.

Far below, he knew, lay the lifeless corpse of Cheetara, Forerunner of Cheetah Clan, eaten alive by the demonic insect brood of Mumm-Ra the Ever-Living.Above him, just a few feet away, lay a barely-visible tunnel, and the chance to claim revenge on her killer.

Again he pulled himself upwards, and again.Then his outstretched hand found not wall but floor.He grasped the soft lip and began to pull.

The pain that struck him then was beyond comprehension.It coursed through his guts like battery acid, raged along his nervous system and into his brain like an invading army, laying waste to everything it touched.

He slipped backwards and down, dug his claws into the wall and hung on.He knew it would be over if he fell, that he'd never have the strength to climb out again.He clung to consciousness as he clung to the wall, resisting the lure of sweet oblivion, his face pressed against the dirt to muffle his agonized cries.

Then the pain began to ease, and as it did, he could feel them shift and slide within him, stretching out into the space they'd cleared.Their tiny gullets filled with his flesh, they returned to their dormant state to await their next feeding.

Lion-O dragged himself over the lip of the cavern and onto the relative safety of the floor.He lay there, feeling his insides running hot and cold where the parasites had eaten from him.He thought of Cheetara, of her fear and agony as the creatures devoured her from within.Until he'd been dropped into the pit with her, to hold her in helpless terror as the devils stole away the last of her life.

He rolled over, his eyes glowing a fiery gold in the dark of the tunnel.Rage pushed the pain of his injuries from his mind, thirst for vengeance fueled his battered body and propelled him back to his feet.

He did not care if he lived or died.Only that Mumm-Ra paid for his crimes.

The Sword, he thought.I need the Sword.He closed his eyes, trying to focus, to sense the weapon's location.Gradually an impression began to form, stronger when he faced down the corridor.His hand pressed to the wall, he moved off into the inky darkness.

The darkness of the corridor was absolute, but Lion-O as unconcerned.The need for the devil-priest's blood on his hands drove out all other emotion and thought.Soon, he could distinguish a faint glimmering in the distance ahead.

He came to a small chamber with only one entrance.The floor was littered with personal articles, some intact, other broken.The glimmer he'd seen was from a glow-globe lying atop the pile of rubbish.He could sense the Sword of Omens, calling from within the pile.

He began to dig, and despite himself paused to examine some of the items as he went along.Among the many arrows and bone knives.He found a chargeless plastic hand maser with the word "INFERNO" imprinted on the side of the barrel.Near that lay a peculiar, stylized dagger, resembling nothing so much as an ice pick.He puzzled over this for several moments, then discarded it.It plainly had not done it's owner much good.

A few more moments and the Sword of Omens rested once more in his hand.He took a deep breath, realizing what a relief it was to hold the weapon again.Near it lay the Claw Shield, which he fitted to his hip.

He took a moment to gather his strength, then pushed himself to his feet, exited the chamber and began to retrace his steps.With the light from the glow-globe, he could see a side tunnel ahead.He turned down it and continued further into the insect nest.

He wandered in the dark tunnels, unchallenged but lost.After what felt like an eternity he came across a juncture adorned with a set of claw marks raked into the wall.He followed the scratches to another set, then another.He continued in this manner until, finally, he came to the entrance.

The sun above was obscured by a dense sheet of steel-gray clouds.The air was thick with moisture, stirred by a harsh, chilling wind.The young Lord shivered as he slid down the face of the nest and walked in the direction of the Thundertank.When he reached the vehicle, his heart sank.Nobody else was there.None of the others had gotten out.He turned back towards the nest and raised the Sword of Omens to his face.

"Sword of Omens," he intoned."Give me sigh..."

He doubled over, dropping the weapon on the ground, then falling beside it.His knees drew up, his arms folded over himself in a modified fetal position.His teeth creaked from the strain of his clenched jaw as white hot agony clawed at his guts.

Oh G-God, he thought, Oh God I can hear them ch-chewing...

Finally the parasites were sated and fell still.Lion-O crawled to the side of the Thundertank and pulled himself upright along it's side.He held out his hand, and the Sword of Omens sprang from the ground and returned to his grasp.

His strength was fading fast; he knew time as running out.Whatever had become of the others, they would have to face it alone; he couldn't wait for them.He sheathed the Sword and crawled into the 'tank.

He pulled on the safety harness, smiling grimly at the irony of it, and fired the engine.He checked the scanner readout, noting with some suprise how close he was to the black pyramid.He took the steering yoke in hand and began to accelerate.

As the 'tank roared across the first mile, the plain began to dry, it's plant life becoming patchy.Such fertile land, he mused.Tygra's right, I think.The desert around the pyramid is Mumm-Ra's doing.He creates it somehow.

He wondered if it would return to it's natural state when Mumm-Ra was dead.

Minutes later, the pyramid loomed up on the horizon, growing ever-larger as he approached.He pulled to a stop within fifty yards of it and climbed out of the 'tank.

He limped toward the pyramid, one hand holding his stomache, wondering how he was going to get inside.As if in answer, a section of the wall before him rumbled inward, then slid to the left out of the way.He stopped at the entrance, drew the Sword of Omens and slid the Claw Shield over his hand.Equipped, he drew a deep breath and cautiously advanced.

The interior was cool and dry, but beneath the pleasant atmosphere was a sense of being watched, observed by an unseen malignance.He followed the corridor, the feeling of menace growing stronger with each step.In his hand, the Sword of Omens began to hum, then growl.

Within minutes he found himself in Mumm-Ra's sanctuary at the pyramid's center.The room was dimly lit by the smoldering brazier that hung suspended over the stone scrying pool.The light it cast did not reach completely to the walls of the chamber, casting shadows that seemed to dance and caper at the young Lord's presence, mocking him.Across the pool opposite him was Mumm-Ra's sarcophagus, tightly closed.

Lion-O gripped the snarling Sword with both hands.Something Wilykat had said, a quote from the cub's volumnous reading, sprang unbidden to his mind: "That is not dead which may eternal lie, and with strange eons e'en death may die."

Lion-O could feel the fear struggling to overwhelm him, to send him back out of this gateway to hell and away from it's non-living guardian.As his courage faltered, there rose once more from memory the images of the pit.As though reliving it, he felt the cheetah's death throes as Mumm-Ra's living weapons had burst from her body like a spent cocoon.He heard again that final, shuddering sigh as life fled also from that ruined flesh.

His fear as consumed by his hatred like leaves in a forest fire.Lion-O raised the Sword of Omens and pointed it at the stone coffin before him, an inarticulate scream of fury tearing forth from the depths of his soul.

The Sword of Omens did not generate energy-it processed it, drawing it forth from some extradimensional source known only to itself and it's maker.

Now the intelligence that dwelled in the Eye of Thundera drew on the living energy of it's weilder to throw open the portal to that secret wellspring.The weapon drank long and deep, transforming what it took into an explosion of raw red power that coursed down the length of the weapon's blade and surged outward towards the sarcophagus.

The outpouring of energy passed over the scrying pool to the dias where the sarcophagus stood.There it struck an invisible wall of force, splashing the furious discharge across it's surface in a shower of molten light and blazing sparks.

Lion-O held the warming Sword steady, willing it onward.The air of the crypt heated rapidly.The strange liquids of the scrying pool began to steam, then boil.Witchlight danced in the young lion's hair as his red eyes burned gold, his inch-long fangs bared in a bloodthirsty snarl.

And still the shield held.Lion-O could feel the Sword drawing on his strength, using his living energy to hold open the gate to it's ultimate power source.He sensed that Mumm-Ra's shield was doing the same to it's owner, turning the battle into a contest of strength and will.

And as the Sword's discharge began to diminish, then fail, he knew he'd lost.His leaden arms dropped to his sides, the Sword barely gripped in his hand.He staggered to one of the mocking statues of Mumm-Ra's vile gods and fell against it, completely spent.

...too weak, Cheetara, I'm just too weak.I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...

He levered himself upright and filled his lungs with air."MUMM-RA!" Lion-O roared, his voice echoing throughout the chamber."Mumm-Ra!Coward!Come out and face me!"

Only silence met his cry.Of course he won't come out, Lion-O thought.Why risk a battle when all he has to do is wait for these...things...inside me to finish me off?

Lion-O hung is head as black, choking despair overwhelmed him.His spirit crushed, all he wanted now was to crawl away somewhere and wait for the inevitable to overtake him.

From across the temple, he heard the sound of grinding stone as the sarcophagus began to open.

The ornate lid slid aside to reveal a dessicated corpse, traces of leathery blue-gray flesh still clinging to it's bones.It was swathed in tattered, filthy burial wrappings and cloaked in a red hooded shroud.The bare skull faced towards the dead thing's feet, it's jaw open, exposing a complete row of sharp carnivore's teeth.

The jaw snapped shut with an audible click.The skull turned to face the young Thundercat Lord, it's empty eye sockets beginning to glow with a reddish light.The radiance increased until it seemed as though coals risen up from the furnace of hell itself had been set there.

The dead thing uncrossed it's arms and pushed itself upright in it's sarcophagus.It paused, drawing it's shroud around it's shoulders as though to ward off a chill, then advanced with a shuffling gait and a sound like the crinkle of dry, dead leaves underfoot.Dust settled in it's path like fallen snow.

It came to the edge of the dias and stopped, it's head canted to the side, regarding Lion-O as though suprised to find him there.Then it spoke, the words issuing not from the fleshless mouth, which opened and closed in time like a marionette, but from the very air around the undead creature, resonating from the walls of the tomb.

"'Widow maker'," it said."'Kinslayer'.'Woman-' and 'child-killer'.All of these things has Mumm-Ra been named over the long millenia of his existance.All of these, and more."

"But never," it said with a trace of amusement."But never, 'coward'.Now tell me boy, what brings you here in such a state, to hurl insults upon Mumm-Ra the Ever-Living?"

Lion had regained his balance as the creature spoke, the Sword of Omens clenched tightly in his fist.Now that hand flew up to his brow in a warding gesture as Mumm-Ra's mind brushed his, like a spider skittering across the surface of his brain.

"Ah," the undead monster intoned as it broke the contact."So, the cheetah has fallen.A pity.Of all of you, she alone might have served Mumm-Ra in some capacity."

A vision drew itself across Lion-O's eyes, of Cheetara chained spread-eagle upon a great obsidian altar, screaming in horror as this leering dead thing mounted her...

Lion-O roared in fury and raised the Sword to point at Mumm-Ra.Mumm-Ra merely raised his gaze slightly, and Lion-O's roar transformed into a bald-faced shriek of agony.The Sword fell to the floor with a clatter as the young Thundercat doubled over and dropped once again to his knees.

"The k'tuk are my creatures," Mumm-Ra said over the youth's screams."They hear my voice and they know me.Were I to will it so, they would continue to bore through your flesh until they burst from you.Immature as they are, this would kill them, but their suffering would be naught compared to yours."

His screams ceased as his raw vocal cords tore in his throat.The insects in his abdomen tore at his bowels, making good on the demon lord's threat.He knew he was about to die.

From somewhere deep within his soul, from a place beyond pain, beyond death itself, the young lion drew the strength to reach out his hand, take up the Sword of Omens, lift his eyes to his destroyer, and fire.

The bolt of energy raced across the chamber.It came within inches of Mumm-Ra's leering skull, then was deflected away by the same shield that had defended the monster's crypt.

The torturous pain in Lion-O's body began to subside.Mumm-Ra stood unmoving at the edge of the dias, glaring at the young lion.Lion-O did not attempt to stand; he didn't think he could.

Then the chanting began, and Lion-O found himself witness to a dark miracle.As the undead creature's sibilant, hissing words circled around the chamber, the process of decay that had produced the fiend's dry, shrivelled form began to reverse itself.

The tattered flesh thickened and grew, spreading out across the exposed bone.The stooped form straightend and began to enlarge, the shoulders to broaden.The grinning skull was enveloped by tissue to describe a face of dark strength and sinister power.

The demon priest's garments underwent a smiliar transformation.The wrappings and cowl were absorbed into a thick dragon-wing cloak.A mist developed in the air around him, coalescing into a serpentine warhelm, grieves and an armored kilt.

In the space of a minute, the decayed revenant was restored to it's physical prime, a warrior embodying both pure evil and raw power.As the the transformation completed, the chanting voice came less from the air around the body and more from the regenerated lips, it's resonant force undiminished by being bound once more to flesh.

Only the eyes remained unchanged, glowing hellishly behind the newly-restored lids.Lion-O, battered, bloodied and more than half dead, could only watch in helpless awe as the chanting ended.Mumm-Ra stepped down from the dias, his long stride and baleful glare betraying his fury.

"You dare!" he bellowed, extending his hand.Red lightning blazed forth from his palm, tearing into the defensless Thundercat.Lion-O was blown backwards, the Sword spinning away from him.

"You dare!" Mumm-Ra raged again.The warrior stepped into the scrying pool, strode through it.Lion-O lay unmoving where he'd fallen, watching the warrior come.

Mumm-Ra stood over the fallen lion's waist, looking down at him.Lion-O was utterly at the priest's mercy, unable to defend himself at all.Blood ran from the boy's mouth, trailing down his face.His fur was matted with dried rot.His eyes held only resignation.

Mumm-Ra extended both hands towards the fallen Thundercat Lord. And in the instant before the lightning poured down into his body, Lion-O thought, just perhaps, he saw pity soften the undead warrior's gaze.

Then his own vision dissolved in a shower of spark-like flashes.He tried to scream, but nothing would come out of his savaged throat except a croak.He could smell meat cooking, and was dimly aware it was his own burning flesh that he detected.

Then the wave was past.Lion-O's entire being was filled by a painful, irregular thudding, but thankfully his vision began to clear.There above him stood Mumm-Ra, hands extended to strike.Only the undead warrior was no longer looking at Lion-O.Instead, he stared incredulously at a six inch length of rod, an inch in diameter, that jutted from the center of his chest.

The rod disappeared into Mumm-Ra's body, leaving behind a gaping hole that oozed a thick, black ichor.He gasped spasmodically, laying his hand over the wound in his chest as he lurched away to Lion-O's left.

Behind him stood Cheetara, her staff held in a guarding stance, the first two feet of it slick with Mumm-Ra's brackish blood.Her face was terrible, her glittering white fangs bared in a feral fury Lion-O had never seen before.

"How...how did I not sense you?" Mumm-Ra gasped.

Cheetara's only reply was a high, shreiking roar as she charged the undead fighter, her staff spinning, gaining momentum, then snapping out in a blow calculated to crush the mummy's skull.

In the instant that the blow would have struck, Mumm-Ra's body dissolved, bursting into a cloud of dust-like particles.The cloud flowed up towards the ceiling, then streamed across the chamber to the dias, where it solidified once more.

Mumm-Ra was no longer in his powerful warrior form.Although the cadaverous mummy seemed uninjured, it nevertheless clutched at it's chest in the area Cheetara had struck.It and the cheetah eyed each other warily as the creature retreated towards it's sarcophagus.

"So Cheetara," Mumm-Ra rasped."I am pleased to see that you still live.Rest assured, my sweet swift one, that when we meet again you shall be mine, body and soul."

"For now, I shall content myself by taking your boy king from you," he said as he backed into the coffin."Mourn him while you may, Cheetara, for your time will be only a little greater."

As Lion-O heard the sarcophagus scrape closed, as Cheetara turned and rushed towards him, the erratic thudding that was causing him so much discomfort finally stopped.In it's place came a sensation of profound peace, all his pain falling away from him like soiled clothing.

He was distantly aware of Cheetara pressing her head to his chest, then delivering a two-fisted blow to his sternum.The world grayed out for an instant, then returned as she clamped her mouth over his, blowing burning hot air into his lungs.

The gray washed over him, thickening into a warm, comforting darkness.He thought of being little, when he would pull the covers over his head to keep the monsters away.It almost seemed he could again hear his father speaking somewhere in the palace.Strangely, he sounded just like Panthro saying, "Breathe for him." 

He heard another voice, the faintest of whispers.Mama?, he thought.No, not Mama, someone else who meant almost as much to him.A soft, feminine voice, tinged with desperate fear.

As the darkness became all-encompassing, he recognized it.Cheetara, he thought.As he drifted away, her words were the last he heard.

"Come back to me, cubby," she said."Come back to me..."

Continued...