ALLURA KNELT IN the darkened sepulcher, her cloak sweeping the icy tiles that lined her father’s tomb. Her head was high, her eyes open. The torch she had set in the sconce on the wall scattered dim light, flittering across the contours of memorials to previous Arusian nobility. Following her father’s death, when the castle had been abandoned by all but the most steadfast of followers, the young Allura had wandered the silent halls, wept at the empty bedrooms, the cold hearths, her sighs filling the corners where once laughter, tears, and other sounds of life had echoed. Even in her parent’s private library, hidden deep within the castle, the silence had been stifling. In this place alone, surrounded by the tombs of her ancestors, had Allura found solace. There were secrets hidden in this tomb, known only by those who had worn the Royal Crown of Arus, secrets meant for her to discover when the time came for her to ascend the Throne. And as long as there were still secrets left to discover, there was still a connection of sorts to these people, something that kept them alive for her.

     This dawn, however, the shadows yielded nothing but more silence and the carved effigies that adorned her ancestors’ tombs remained distant and silent. Not even the Space Mice, who somehow managed to get all over the castle, despite Nanny’s ministrations, seemed to be around. The only sound to be heard in the sepulcher was Allura’s soft voice, and that barely above a whisper.

     “Please, Father, help me,” she murmured to the cold tomb before her. “Our people stand in grave danger and for once we are powerless to defend them. We fear we were wrong before, and the forces of Doom have not been destroyed. Three of our friends are missing, and without them we can not form Voltron. We don’t know where they are, but we sense their peril is very great! We should have listened to Lance, but we did not, and now we have failed you and Mother!”

     “No, my Princess,” said a voice behind her, “it is I who have failed you and your parents.”

     With a small cry of surprise, Allura was on her feet and whirled to face the intruder. She had heard no one enter! Had she not been alone all along? She snatched her torch from the sconce and thrust it before her, squinting into the darkness to make out the intruder.

     She knew him at once. Though he was stooped with age and his long beard and hair were snowy white, they concealed a body still lean and hale, and two grey eyes flashed at her with worldly understanding and wisdom.

      “Runan!” she gasped.

     The old shaman bowed his head in acknowledgement and Allura immediately ran forward to hover over him, despite the fact that he lived quite well on his own in the wilderness and had so for decades, and had once saved her life. Still, he was a link to her past, for he had known her parents, and had confided to her the fate of Corran’s wife and son, and for that reason she was instinctively protective.

     He accepted her attentions with a gentle smile, but when she would have assisted him to sit down, he seized her by the wrist in a grip surprisingly strong, and his eyes searched hers intently. “Princess, hear me, now. I must confess to you how abominably I have failed you and your parents, who I swore to aid long ago, and tell you what is to be done about it.”

     Allura’s eyes widened.

     Runan continued: “When you came to me earlier, seeking clues as to the origins of Voltron, I should have heeded you. You, my Princess, have the right to know. Still, I was troubled by a recurring dream, one I had had since your father, Good King Alfor, entrusted the secret to me years ago, that if anyone should learn the secret origins of Voltron before the right time-which was never specified, incidentally-there could be dangerous consequences.”

     Allura shook her head. “Dear Runan, this is very interesting, but we must talk of this another time. There is a more immediate danger. Three of our friends-”

     “Are missing, yes I know. My Princess, you shall be twenty and Queen in less than a year. That is not much time left to learn the wisdom of patience, I’m afraid.”

     Allura bit her lip.

     “Yes, I know of your missing friends. The two are, of course, connected. You may have defeated Zarkon and his son in your last battle, but as to the witch Haggar, you only succeeded in destroying her dire laboratory. Now, to augment her drained powers, she seeks the planet whereon Voltron was first constructed, in the hopes of gaining for herself the secrets to build a second mighty robot…to be used against you.”

     Allura would have interrupted, but he held up a hand. “Patience, Princess. I’m getting to your friends.

     “Now, this planet-Altea-is not without defenses. The people who live there, remember, are master inventors. They make their home in the windswept, treacherous Lion’s Teeth Mountains, which crawl with vicious predators. If that were not protection enough, they have a way of controlling the weather itself. Wild storms the like of which you’ll never find in nature sweep the planet’s atmosphere, wrecking any ship foolish enough to find its way to Altea by accident. Incidentally, how Haggar knew where the planet lies is beyond me at the moment-I shall have to meditate on it, later-for there are but three outsiders who know, and two are dead. Your parents, naturally, and myself.

     “Haggar is no fool. She would have known she could not approach the planet on her own; her ship would be destroyed as soon as she brushed the atmosphere. She needed a…vehicle…that could command the elements of water…and ice.”

     Allura’s breath caught in her throat. “The Blue Lion!” Suddenly indignant, “But Sven would never serve Haggar! If there’s anyone in the Galaxy he hates more than Lotor, it’s that witch!”

     Runan stared at her significantly, and suddenly she remembered a conversation she had had with Lance, watching Sven and the Blue Lion perform great feats of aerial dynamics, only the other day.

     “Unless that wasn’t really Sven!” she gasped. “Could Haggar have used…a robot?” Her mind reeled as horrifying conclusions assailed her from all directions. “No, no, that makes no sense. How would a robot know everything he knew? Still, I suppose she might know, might have told him what to say. That would explain why he was acting so strangely, why he was so rude to Romelle…oh, goddess of love, Romelle! Ah, my poor cousin…” Then her eyes widened as yet another terrible thought dawned on her. “But if the man we all saw was a robot, where is the real Sven?” There was only one answer: he must be dead. If Haggar had made the switch, there would be no reason to keep the real man alive. Allura thought of her cousin, who had been hurt so in the past, and so needlessly, and her eyes filled with tears.

     Runan seized her by the shoulders and shook her roughly. “There is no time for that, Princess! Perhaps your friend is but under a spell. If not…grieve later. There is no time, now. Is it not obvious where your other friends have gone? They must have followed the Blue Lion, unwittingly, to Altea.”

     “Lance suspected Sven… But why would he-and Romelle-leave without alerting us? Never mind, that does sound very like Lance.”
     “Or perhaps there was no time,” Runan said gently. Then, urgently, “There is no time to lose, now. You and the remainder of the Voltron Force must travel to Altea and stop the witch. I will tell you where the planet Altea lies.”

     He told her.

     She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely, then broke free. Gently, but insistently, he prodded her in the direction of the exit.

      “Now, go! And, Princess,” he called out, as she turned, “bring a jacket!”

     Allura nodded hurriedly over her shoulder, and ran to find Keith and the others.

      Morella found Raibal in the Aerie, the observatory set high in the Lion’s Teeth, eyes intent on his computer terminal. Gasping for breath, she flung the door open, and stumbled inside. She caught at his desk, and leaned against it, taking in huge gulps of air. Raibal looked up in alarm, took in her disheveled appearance and the rifle slung over her shoulder and started up. She held up her hand to forestall him.

     “It’s time,” she said in a hard, flat voice.

     Raibal’s eyes darkened. “No! It can’t be. Have faith, woman.”

     At that moment, Morella had little sympathy for her mate. She held up her hands, which were streaked with blood. “Hewas is dead. My apprentice! And I don’t know how many others! He was eighteen. Don’t give me that damn prophecy crap!”

     Though her words were hostile, Raibal read more genuine fatigue and hurt in her eyes than animosity.

     He said, tonelessly, “The Generator has fallen.”

     “Oh, yes,” she said bitterly. “Fallen. No more storm. Nothing. Our people are down there dying!”

     He seized her by the wrist and said very deliberately, his face quite close to hers, “It is not time, yet. You know that.”

     She snatched her arm away and kicked the leg of his desk. “Of course I know that! That’s what makes it so damn hard.”

     Raibal put out a comforting hand, but she whirled away. “They’ll be after the lab next,” she said, moving toward the exit. “You may be a scientist, but you can shoot. We need everybody, now.”

     Raibal glanced out the window. The sky was spotless, but in his mind’s eye he could already see blossoms of fire. He wrenched himself away and wordlessly followed Morella. Not yet, not yet, he thought frantically. Hoshi-san, please be right! Ah, Ekatia, where are you?

     Currently, Ekatia was standing between the livid Romelle and Sven, who lay supine in the snow. “Stop it, stop it!” she shrieked. “Friends, indeed! After all the trouble it took to rescue you all!”

     Lance had snatched Romelle around the arms and dragged her back. “I said we question him first, THEN kill him!” He laughed, “I begin to suspect you’re not really related to Princess Allura at all! By the way,” he added in her ear, “nice shot.”

     She elbowed him sharply.

     “I meant it!” he grunted plaintively.

     Ekatia scrambled around to Sven’s head and raised him up against her shoulder. He blinked. “Hello, Romelle,” he said weakly.

     Romelle was by no means finished. Lance sensed this, and had the good sense to restrain her by seizing her arm, before she inflicted further damage on their fallen friend. “You,” she said, voice trembling, “have much explaining to do!”

     “As do you, I think,” he answered her.

     “But…inside?” Ekatia suggested. She had begun to glance about the rocky shelves above them. “Your yeti was injured, must have wandered away from the herd. But if they smell fresh blood the others will be here in no time. Besides, it’s cold.” She nodded in the direction of her small sled, and then helped Sven to his feet.

     He needed little assistance, came to his feet swiftly and found himself staring down into Romelle’s vivid sapphire eyes. He had not seen her since his hotheaded pursuit of Lotor weeks ago. She stood before him now, trembling, white skin flushed, snow in her honey-gold hair. But she was looking up at him with a look riddled with betrayal and hurt. Her look, her actions, everything about her appearance in this place confused him and words failed him.

     Ekatia still clutched his arm-he was amused by and wondered at her odd protectiveness-and was indicating once again her sled, which rested a few yards away. He gave Romelle one last searching look, then bowed his head, wordlessly waited as she and Lance preceded him and Ekatia into the sled.

      Which was more cramped than he realized it would be. Ekatia gestured toward the chairs by the console, but Romelle kept her chin high and regarded them both with suspicion and remained standing. Lance, on the other hand, gave her one cursory glance, rolled his eyes, shrugged, and slumped down in the co-pilot’s seat. Ekatia slid down beside him.

     Lance turned and gave her a limp smile. “While these two fight it out… I’m Lance.”

     She gunned the engines and both Sven and Romelle, heretofore standing facing each other by the hatch, were thrown off balance and scrambled for the backs of Lance and Ekatia’s chairs.

     Ekatia took them to a higher ledge and set them down, then turned to watch what followed.

     Sven was the first to break the silence. “Romelle…why are you here?”

     (Ekatia was surprised to find Lance leaning toward her to whisper conspiratorially, “Notice how suddenly I’m forgotten.”

     Ekatia patted his arm in sympathy.)

     Romelle’s eyes flashed. “I might well ask you the same question. I might well also ask you to explain your actions, starting with why you took off without telling anyone, why you were bothering my attendant lady, why you ATTACKED us when we followed you, why you led us HERE!” She did not add, Why you broke my heart.

     Lance added, thoughtfully, “Why you kidnapped the Blue Lion. Incidentally, where IS the Blue Lion?”

     Sven glanced in astonishment from Romelle, who was glaring fiercely, to Lance, who raised one dark brow at him, to Ekatia, who was watching all three of them with intense curiosity. He turned back to Romelle, said deliberately, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Believe me; I’ve not seen you since I went to fight Lotor.” Except in dreams. He held out his hands to her. “The last thing I remembered was falling from the tower. I awoke Haggar’s prisoner,” he said softly. “I don’t know how long I was there. But I escaped-with the aid of good King Alfor’s spirit-and came here to stop Haggar. I don’t know what you’ve seen, or been told, but you must believe me.”

      Romelle turned her face away. “A robot,” she muttered. “A damned robot.”

     “No, Romelle,” Lance said, warily. “You’ve proved that theory wrong, yourself: robots don’t bruise.”

      “Romelle,” Sven said, then in one swift, fluid movement he was kneeling at her side, eyes anxious. He said in a low voice, for her ears alone, “My last memory of you is you saying, ‘whatever happens, my heart is with you.’ In Haggar’s cell…I knew that. In all my dreams, you were there. I wanted to call to you, but…”

     (“So,” Lance said sweetly, leaning toward Ekatia, “what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” He grinned, awaiting her response, wondering if, even on THIS remote world, she’d have heard the line a thousand times over.

     “Waiting for you, obviously.” The words indicated she had, but she was looking at him so sweetly, with her lips pressed in a little, bow-shaped smile, that he really found himself wondering.

     “Out of curiosity, do they call you ‘Tia,’ or ‘Kat’?”

     “Let’s see. The Elders call me ‘child,’ she said, scrunching her nose, “my cousins call me ‘Brat’, but those I allow to live call me ‘Kat.’”)

     “But someone did call to me,” Romelle said softly. She looked up at him, inadvertently caught her breath at the ugly purple bruise discoloring the skin around his right eye. The eyes now leveled at her were not the cold, dispassionate eyes of a stranger, the one who had left her alone in the garden, bewildered. “I was sleeping,” she went on, almost to herself, “and I heard someone call to me, and I awoke. There was no one else in the room, or without, but I know I heard someone call. Only, it was not my name. It was for me, but it wasn’t ME.” She paused, then said so softly he could barely hear her, “The word I HEARD was…ren-aye.”

     She had the pronunciation nearly correct. She asked, “What does it mean?”

     He looked away. “I don’t know,” he lied.

     They sat like that for a long moment, before they both remembered they had an audience. Ekatia and Lance were regarding them with interest, similarly amused and indulgent smiles playing at both pairs of lips. Sven glanced sharply at Lance and realized something.

     “You believe me.”

     Lance blinked.

     “You do!”

     “I do,” Lance echoed wonderingly, as if the notion had just occurred to him as well. “It’s very strange. I explained to Romelle…sometimes I just KNOW when a guy isn’t what he seems. When you showed up on the Castle doorstep the other day, all bright and cheerful, straight from dumping Romelle-” Sven glanced sharply at Romelle, who looked away -“and started sneaking around and acting vague and mysterious, I knew something was up. Of course no one BELIEVED me and one of these days Keith will have some major boot-licking to do, but never mind that for now,” he went on airily.

     “Lance…” Sven warned.

     “ANYWAY, I don’t get that feeling now. You check out clean on the Lance-o-meter of Danger. Congratulations. I am now somewhere BEYOND thoroughly confused.”

     Ignoring Lance, Sven turned back to Romelle. “I dumped you?” he asked softly. “Romelle…what did the one you mistook for me say to you?”

     “Mistook?” Romelle exclaimed, indignant. “I did not mistake! No more than Lance did, nor my cousin, my brother, nor the rest of the Force! It was you! You we followed here!”

     “Wait,” Ekatia put in quickly. “You mentioned a robot…”

     “A robot after all?” Lance pondered. “Somewhere here…”

     “Of course,” Ekatia went on, “it’s amazing you BOTH wound up here.”

     “Whose side are you on?” Lance asked her sharply, then wondered the same thing about himself and shut up.

     “It wasn’t me,” Sven said urgently to Romelle. “You do know that.”

     “I know,” she said in a taut voice, but she didn’t look at him.

     Lance said, “We came here looking for you, but why are you here?”

     “I’ll explain…”

     “Explain once we’re airborne,” Ekatia advised. “No yeti will track us at this elevation, but there’s still the grell. Hold tight.”

     “Charming planet you’ve got here,” Lance said brightly, buckling his shoulder strap. “I imagine you have quite a tourist problem.”

     Ekatia grinned and gunned the engine again, but this time Sven and Romelle were ready and were not sent flying.

     The sky was already deepening toward a smoky green and the winds were beginning to stir once more, lightly at first, but with growing intensity, as the tiny sled arched deeper over the treacherous mountain passes. Sven had begun to relate King Alfor’s charge to him and Romelle was deigning to look on him with something less than rancor, while Lance listened with interest, but was watching Ekatia handle the tiny sled with easy skill. When Sven mentioned Haggar’s intentions, Ekatia’s eyes blazed. “Oh, no she’ll not!” she said stridently, but when the others urged her to elaborate she grew tight-lipped.
     Lance finally turned to Sven and Romelle and grinned. “Good to have you back…again, Sven,” he said lightly, but with meaning. Sven sighed wearily and would have replied, but Ekatia’s startled exclamation drew them all to the view screen.

 &n

bsp;   “There’s something there,” she said, “down on that ledge.”

     “What are those black things flying around?” Lance asked, pointing.

     “Nadri,” she said with distaste. “Scavengers. But I’ve never seen them so close to the Aerie. So odd...”

     The sled dipped suddenly, grazing the snow, before touching down lightly. Ekatia unbuckled her strap, reached for her abandoned rifle, then moved swiftly out of the hatch. An instant later, shots rang out, the screen was full of panicked nadri, and Ekatia hollered, “Lance-get down here!”

     The wind had picked up considerably and tore at their hair and jackets. Stumbling out into the snow, Lance-flanked by Sven and Romelle-moved with some difficulty to Ekatia’s side and saw what she had discovered.

     On the ledge, pressed deep in the fissure of a massive, ice-clad boulder, a man lay, half-buried in the snow. His tattered black garments were soaked thoroughly and his face, set against hair as dark as the mountains themselves, was deathly white.

     Sven said, uncertainly, “He looks…somehow familiar.”

     Lance looked at him witheringly. “I don’t suppose you had a mirror on you in Haggar’s cell, but I’ve got news for you, buddy: he looks EXACTLY like you.”

     The man in the snow groaned faintly and Ekatia bent quickly to his side.

     “Haggar’s robot!” Romelle hissed, eyes blazing.
     “So that’s our robot,” Lance observed, with less vehemence, starting forward.

     Ekatia glanced up sharply. “Hold it, Lance. The best robots can imitate breathing, but robots don’t bleed.” She lifted her hand, which was streaked with blood. “And they don’t catch fevers, either. This one’s burning up.”

     Sven knelt in the snow beside Ekatia. Romelle came to stand behind him, hand hovering over her knife hilt. Lance started forward, then stopped.

     The stranger moaned again, then his raven lashes fluttered. They all drew back as his head lolled limply to one side and his eyes slid open to reveal twin pools dark as the sea by night. The eyes flickered over the companions, stirring slightly at Romelle and Lance, before settling on Sven’s face. A slow ghost of a smile slid across the thin, cracked lips.

     Sven’s breath caught in his throat. Three years fell away from him like a shroud. He stared, incredulous. “…ERIK?”