Hello all. For those who have maybe read parts of this story before I'm just letting you know that I've started to rewrite it and that's why it's being republished. I hope you enjoy it as much as the first; and if you're new to this story - enjoy!

Prologue:

"Without an Ineffable Name…"

It was the morning of the day before the Jellicle Ball and a fine wind fluttered through the streets of London. It was a cloudy day; but a gentle one, and Jellicle Cats had gone out to spend time sunning themselves on fences; or under a commonly shrub. In Wycombe Square Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie were spying on a Pollicle with a diamond collar. Down in Brompton Munkustrap surveyed the shuffle below from an apartment ledge above the street. In Hyde Park Ex Cetera and Electra were chasing leaves. Everyone was relaxing in expectation of the Jellicle Ball the following evening.

In a townhouse in Bolton Gardens the Rum Tum Tugger was searching high and low for his housemate, and friend, the magical Mr Mistoffelees. He could hardly remember what he had planned on asking the black cat; but after searching his favourite places decided it would be his mission to locate the easily untraceable Jellicle. He searched up on the roof and down by the fireplace; in the cabinet beneath the stairs and even behind the towel rack in the second bathroom. Yet the small feline was nowhere to be found. Rum Tum Tugger kept his human family in agony as he mewled to go inside and out for most part of the day.

Mistoffelees, long before, had known the Rum Tum Tugger was looking for him. He stayed perched precariously on the back fence; covered by an overhanging vine; where he slept comfortably and peacefully throughout the morning.

'If only all days could be like today,' he said to himself; whiskers twitching. Living with Tugger had always been difficult. He watched the curious main coon tom run outside; dart his head around excitedly, then sprint off to the main street; shouting 'I heard you by the mailbox! There is no escape!' His face was beaming with pleasure.

With a flick of his tail Mistoffelees sent the quiet purr of his voice into the upstairs bedroom; where Tugger would dash to next once he found nothing near the mailbox. Mistoffelees was a most extraordinary cat; understanding and having a knack for magic, so the act of making his voice heard in far away places was easy. At times he could also disappear and reappear suddenly; and conjure up light and colour from his paws.

He stretched his legs and clawed at the fence; changing position so his tail was in the sun. It was then that a peculiar smell wafted across the small courtyard and under his nose. It was quite unpleasant; so unpleasant in fact that he had to move. As he did so he caught sight of something black in the garden below. It darted behind a nearby shrub with a hiss.

'Who's there?' he asked; balancing on his toes and he peered down.

The bushes below were still for a moment as Mistoffelees peered into their depths. Nothing. And then nothing for a long moment afterwards.

Then, quite suddenly, he felt a presence behind him and turned to see the large filthy bodies of two Hench Cats launch themselves at him. Taken by surprise Mistoffelees fell from the fence and into the neighbouring houses garden. The Hench Cats landed on top of him; pinning him down with their flea-ridden and matted bodies. It was like being smothered by the dead carcass of a Pollicle. The Hench Cats pinned his paws and knotted his tail. The magical cat could do nothing but struggle.

'Hello, magical Mr. Mistoffelees,' a dry, maniacal voice said.

Mistoffelees looked up and gasped, 'Macavity! I thought I smelt something rotten!'

'Oh, we're feisty today,' Macavity replied, 'I like that in my victims.' Macavity, commonly called the Hidden Paw, was a master of deceit and crime. He cupped Mistoffelees' face in his clawed paw and stroked his muzzle softly. He seemed rapt on a thought of some kind – one that Mistoffelees had no desire to know. The cat known as the Napoleon of Crime looked even more dastardly then the last time they had met; when Grizabella had been reborn. His thick ginger coat was unkempt with knots in his tail. His uncombed whiskers were crooked and the gleam of insanity, which had been there since his birth, had become much more infused into the features of his domed head. He was the pure personification of madness.

'Let me go!' Mistoffelees screeched, struggling beneath the Hench Cats. If only he could release his tail he could call for the Rum Tum Tugger…

'Now now,' Macavity grinned, 'I'm just here for a little chat. I promise I won't hurt you – too much' he laughed, 'although one can never be sure. I've never tried this before so it might hurt you a great deal. I've honestly never known what happens to a cat when he cannot remember his Ineffable Name.'

'What?' Mistoffelees cried; not liking where this conversation of sorts was going. His fur prickled.

'You know, don't you Mistoffelees?' Macavity continued, 'it is common to you prancing Jellicle cats, isn't it? Tell me again of those fascinating Jellicle laws; and that ridiculous Everlasting Cat you all seem to believe in.' Macavity was swaying as he spoke; his ginger mane rolling back and forth. His black eyes were fixed on Mistoffelees; who found himself being drawn to them against his will. He was being hypnotized.

'Without an Ineffable Name, a Jellicle cannot be reborn,' Mistoffelees replied.

'Without an Ineffable Name a Jellicle cannot be reborn?' Macavity repeated, 'well, how amazing is that! Because you see, Conjuring cat, I can see into your mind, yes right now, and I am looking at your Ineffable Name.'

'My Ineffable Name?' Mistoffelees said, dazed and trance-like. His mind was screaming but his body would not move. He was paralysed and lost; fearing the worst and being able to do nothing except look into those blazingly violent eyes. He inwardly shuddered.

'It's such a pretty name,' Macavity said, running his paws along Mistofelees shoulders; his claws pulling at the cats black fur, 'but since I am unable to speak it unless you tell me, there is only one thing left for me to do – and that is to make you forget it. I may as well go ahead and ask though,' Macavity grinned, hypnotizing Mistoffelees further, 'tell me your Ineffable Name.'

Mistoffelees; with all the strength he had, forced out one solitary word, 'No!' The act of saying it weakened him.

'Tell me.'

'…no…'

Macavity pulled the black cat towards him violently; wrapping himself around the tom. His body was alive with heat and poison. 'Well then; it looks like it shall be lost to you forever. I can't have your magical ways interfering with my plans for tonight, after all.'

Mistoffelees said nothing; but felt the sting of salty tears leak from his eyes. What was he supposed to do? His Ineffable Name was burning inside his head; that secret name that no cat would ever know, and there Macavity was looking at it; defiling it with his knowledge; sucking it from him like liquid through a straw.

Then Macavity raised his paw, balled it into a fist, and struck Mistoffelees in the head. The magical cat swayed on the spot before another harsh blow sent his mind spinning into blackness. As he passed out he saw Macavity's face grinning down at him; and then is disappeared as his eyes fell shut.

He lied there in the garden for hours until he was found.

'Mistoffelees?' a small voice was saying, 'Mistoffelees wake up…'

As he opened his eyes the foggy and unfocused world seemed too bright to Mistoffelees and he turned onto his side. His protégé, Quaxo, a small black cat with white paws, was looking down at him with such a sorrowful look on his face that Mistoffelees half expected to hear someone had been murdered.

'Good grief, are you okay?' Quaxo cried in alarm, licking his master's face. Quaxo was an excitable young tom and was prone to rambling, 'I was so worried! What the hell happened to you? Did you fall off the fence? That wasn't very smart. This garden smells terrible. Can you walk? I can carry you!'

'Calm down,' Mistoffelees said to him, 'you are far too energetic. I must think for a moment.'

'Think?' Quaxo replied; seeing the fearful expression on his master's face. He put a paw on the sleek cat's shoulder comfortingly, 'think about what? What are we thinking about?'

Mistoffelees searched his brain, trying to remember what had happened to him, and whether or not he really had fallen off the fence. His mind was blank; as though a portion of his afternoon had been ripped from his memory. His head was thudding painfully and in that state it was too hard to think for longer than a minute.

Quaxo was about to open his mouth and say something but he shut it. He watched Mistoffelees, with his eyes closed, breathing in and out slowly. Quaxo had always found the magical cat quite interesting; and not just because he was the Conjuring Cat the tribe so dearly loved. Quaxo loved his feline habits; the habits only he and Tugger knew since they were around him so often. They way his whiskers twitched as he watched a bird prancing in water, the way he rolled in the grass on a warm summer day, the sound of his voice as it echoed around his home – what a beautiful voice it was! – and the way his chest slowly heaved as he sat in quiet contemplation.

Quaxo smiled at this beautiful cat in front of him; and unable to help himself, nuzzled his neck softly with his cheek. He regretted it afterwards when Mistoffelees opened his eyes and looked at him scornfully.

'It is hard to think with you around,' Mistoffelees sighed regrettably.

'Indeed!' Quaxo replied; grinning broadly, 'and I am always around myself, so I never get a moment's peace!' Mistoffelees smiled and Quaxo's cheeks flushed, 'you never told me if you were all right.'

Mistoffelees paused; and without wanting to worry his young assistant said, 'I am fine.'

But inwardly he cried; for when he had closed his eyes and thought about it; even if it was just for a moment – Mistoffelees could not recall the beautiful word, the silent whisper, the magical and hidden secret, which was the thought of his Name.

He had forgotten.