Chapter One

*Author's Note: Here it is, Chickadees--the story I've been promising since I finished The Red Queen! I cannot promise that it has been worth the wait...sorry. My only excuse is that I have been away on Christmas Holiday with my family, but I'm back in action now, so never fear!*

"Old Deuteronomy is dead."

The voice of Roary Huffersnuff fell like the toll of a heavy bell on the assembly of Jellicles. Simultaneously, they dropped their heads in sorrow. Roary looked out bravely at the crowd, "Munkustrap will now become our Jellicle Leader. He will be installed tonight."

Demeter looked at her mate, her eyes wide with fear. She had always known this day would come, but she had hoped that it would be many more years before her mate would take his place as the leader of the Jellicles. She knew that Munku would devote himself entirely to the position, leaving little time for her or their young daughter, Jemima. Demeter was jealous whenever it came to receiving her mate's attention; she worked very hard to make sure that his eyes never wandered, that she always kept him happy and fulfilled. But she knew she could not compete with the taxing schedule that came with being the Jellicle Leader.

Her heart crumbled when she saw the tears in her love's eyes. She leaned forward to comfort him, taking his head to her chest. Slowly, Munkustrap rose, his silver face turned to the new dawn. She alone heard him whisper:

"Finally."

~*~

The junkyard was silent for the rest of the day—the tribe was in mourning. But once night fell, the deserted yard became a beehive of cats, all anxiously pacing to and fro. The Elders had assembled earlier that evening, to speak with Munkustrap. They had to be sure that he was ready to fulfill the demanding role of Jellicle Leader. They strode out single file: the kindly faced grey Teathrice, the jet-black Notekins O'Malley, the red and black Roary Huffersnuff, Skimbleshanks and his sister Mumbletins, the very large Bustopher Jones, and Jennyanydots, who wore a vague expression of concern.

Roary stepped forward again. The cats gathered before him in silence.

"Munkustrap, formerly Protector of the Tribe, has proven himself capable of leading the Tribe. He shall henceforth, until the time of his death, be the supreme ruler of the Jellicle Tribe. No paw shall ever be raised against him, no dissention shall be tolerated. The Elders have spoken."

"And so it shall be," replied the crowd. This was the general response for every ruling the Elders made.

Munkustrap stepped forward boldly, his broad chest projecting an image of strength and honor. His voice was calm and deep, soothing the worried minds of all who heard him, "Fellow Jellicles, it is with a heavy heart that I take this position—heavy with the loss of my father, but still filled with joy that such an honor has been bestowed upon me. My father was a great cat, and I am proud to follow in his pawprints."

The crowd cheered warmly at this, but none so loudly as the Rum Tum Tugger. He was truly ecstatic that his brother was chosen, although everyone pretty much knew that it would be so. Munkustrap took a deep breath, "I am also proud to announce that our new protector will be none other than my brother and my most trusted friend—"

Tugger puffed up with pride at the compliment.

"—Alonzo."

Tugger felt his jaw drop in disbelief. Alonzo? He looked over at his black and white littermate, who stood across the crowd, just as stunned as he was. Both had assumed that Tugger would take over, since he was the second born. Alonzo was the runt of the litter, and by all Jellicle laws and traditions was not expected to achieve any status in the Tribe. Alonzo's on-again off-again flame, Cassandra, sidled up to him, smiling warmly at the news. Bombalurina stopped cheering; she looked to Tugger, her face showing that she understood his hurt and felt a pang of sympathy for him. She took a hesitant step in his direction, as if she were going to speak to him, to console him, but she quickly decided against it. She wasn't very good at comforting cats; that had always been Demeter's forte.

Demeter was too busy cheering for her mate to see Tugger's crestfallen expression. She turned excitedly to Bombalurina, "Oh, Bombie, can you believe it?"

"No," Bombie said distractedly, watching with sorrowed eyes as Tugger left the assembly. "Can't believe it."

Demeter gave a sigh of relief, "I mean, I knew this would happen, but now it's actually here!"

Bombie studied her friend curiously. Demeter's smile was too large, her movements too quick and jumpy. Bombie had known her friend since they were kits; she knew when Demeter was desperately trying to mask her true feelings.

"Dem," she said quietly, moving closer so she could be heard above the din of the crowd, "Are you alright?"

"Who, me?" Demeter turned to her brightly. "I'm better than fine. I'm great."

"Uh-huh." Bombie was not convinced. She looked around for Jemima, craning her long and graceful neck above the crowd. She was taller than most of the other cats, giving her an advantage. She quickly spotted the little tortoise shell, seated beside her cousin and Bombie's own son, Mistoffelees. She turned to go, placing her paw lightly on Dem's shoulder as she did so, "I'm going to get the kits and head home. You coming?"

"In a little bit," Demeter smiled. "Munku and I may go out to celebrate."

Bombie nodded, forcing a smile, and wove her way through the throng of Jellicles. If this had been a club, they would have parted for her like the Red Sea. On the poker scene, she was known as the Red Queen, an enigmatic celebrity of sorts and a force to be reckoned with. But here she was merely another cat. She hated anonymity.

"Misto," she called up to her son, who was seated on the pipe, little Jemima perched beside him. "Jemmie and I are going home."

He nodded, lightly picking up the kitten and depositing her into Bombie's expectant paws. Jemima quickly wriggled her way out of Bombie's grasp, "Hey, I'm a big kitty; I can walk just fine on my own!"

Bombie smiled good naturedly at this, giving Misto a quick wink. Jemima had been growing too big for her britches, as the humans said. Misto jumped down, landing lightly on his white-tipped feet, "I'm going with you, Boms."

He never called her "mother". He had been separated from her at a very young age; they had only recently been reunited. He was the son of Macavity—a dangerous thing to be in the Jellicle Tribe. So Bombalurina had decided that it was best if no one knew of Misto's origins, with the exception of Demeter, who knew everything about the flame-colored queen. No one but Dem even knew that Misto was Bombie's son; they all just assumed he had an odd crush on her. The two laughed at this, but they kept their mouths shut. Let them think what they want, so long as they didn't know the truth.

Misto cast a hopeful smile in Victoria's direction, but the snow white queen was too busy cooing to Plato. Bombalurina knew that her son had a crush on the queen, but he had been too afraid to dance with her during the mating dance. Plato had danced with her, and since then the two had become sort of an item. Bombalurina hated Victoria for leading Misto on, only to break his heart. With a wry smile, she suddenly understood why countless mothers across London hated her without ever really knowing her.

~*~

Teathrice watched the proceedings quietly, her gold-green eyes narrowed in a slight look of concern. She did not voice these concerns, mainly because she had no evidence to back them up, and also because she knew she would have been voted down anyways. Teathrice was a bit of a prophetess, although no one knew this, because she had never admitted it. She thought it was best to keep her powers to herself, only voicing her visions when the situation called for intervention. Still, she disguised these prophecies as mere words of wisdom or concern. Old Deuteronomy was the only one who had known of her gift; now no one knew.

Still, her mind returned to the vision she had that very morning.

The sun rose, shining brilliantly on Munkustrap's tear stained face. A sudden flash seemed to blind Teathrice, followed by a flurry of events: Munku's dark form rising over the Jellicles, who fell prostrate before him, crying out in fear and pain. Darkness seeped through the junkyard like a fog, wailing was heard throughout the territory. Munku had turned to smile softly at her through his tears, and her vision vanished, just as quickly as it had come.

Perhaps I am misinterpreting it, she told herself, although deep down, a small voice cried out that she was not wrong. As Munkustrap stood before the Jellicles in the bright moonlight, his paws extended towards the dark heavens, Teathrice was struck by another flash of insight.

"Oh Sweet Rumpus Cat," she whispered to herself, her tone low and filled with fear. "What have we done?"