Okay. Firstly, I owe a huge apology to anyone who still had this on story alert. It was not my intention to flood your inbox. But since you're obviously here, this is a remastering prompted by the fact that I recently realized I misspelled "Mistoffelees" repeatedly throughout the story. *winces* It's not just fixing typos either! I added a few minor things and one major thing; but for this chapter, it's all minor. I welcome any feedback; tell me how I did improving Dawn!

Chapter One

Jemima's eyes glistened with tears as she raised her voice, her song one of many. For the first time in her life, she was struggling to sing. She knew that this was an honor, a cause for celebration rather than grief, but she still choked on the pain of knowing that she would never see her goofy, fun-loving friend again. If only…she couldn't help thinking. If only she had an owner…if only she wasn't a street cat, maybe she could have been healed…

But as the glittering paw reached down and waited patiently for the deserving Jellicle, Etcetera met Jemima's gaze and smiled, and in that instant the latter realized that this was truly the greatest gift she could have asked. Etcy was leaving her fevered, distemper-ridden body behind now, in the hope that her next life would be neither so painful nor so short. As the ethereal golden glow began to fade, Jemima raised her forepaw in a final farewell, and she thought that this might be the most perfect moment of her life.

It was when Old Deuteronomy prepared to give his traditional address on the ancient dignity of cats that things started to go wrong.

There were no theatrics this time; no chilling laughter or flickering lights. When Old Deuteronomy stood up, there was a single, blinding flash, impossibly bright. Long before their eyes had begun to recover, a cold wind swept the Junkyard, shadows took form and sprang to life, and Demeter's panicked cry of "Macavity!" came just an instant too late.

A scarlet blur leaped from the darkness, landing solidly on Old Deuteronomy's back and sending him tumbling from the Great Tire. Macavity's powerful jaws snapped shut on the back of the leader's neck, and a sacred life was extinguished in less time than it takes to say it.

Munkustrap gave an inhuman cry of rage and launched himself at Macavity, claws extended. In a fair fight, Munkustrap could have won. He was a formidable fighter, and the burning desire for revenge would have given him the edge he needed. But Macavity never fought fair. And he wasn't alone.

A snarling Pollicle knocked Munkustrap to the ground, and Jemima watched in horror as it swung its filthy muzzle toward his throat.

A bolt of blue-white electricity blasted the dog back. Quaxo's counterattack shattered the Jellicles' stunned trance, and the Junkyard exploded into a full-blown battlefield.

Everything was utter confusion; Jemima caught only glimpses of the battle. She saw Bombalurina and Demeter back-to-back, fighting like demons, was dimly aware of Plato hurtling out of nowhere and tackling Victoria out of the way of a blast of scarlet lightning that made Misto's look like a static shock. She didn't realize she was drifting until she heard a cruel chuckle from just above her head. Whirling, she saw a jet-black henchcat perched on top of a stack of boxes. He flicked his gaze over her dismissively, taking in her kittenish features and small size, and a sadistic smile spread across his face as he crouched to leap.

Two all-but-identical calicos catapulted over Jemima's head, intercepting the henchcat in midair as he pounced. Rumpleteazer cursed violently as her brother landed on top of her, but the black henchcat would never speak again—the notorious twins had broken his neck.

It looked as though the Jellicles would pull through. They were fighting fearlessly but intelligently, keeping together and protecting each other's backs. Mistoffelees had hidden himself in the fray and was zapping their attackers with frequent bolts of energy, keeping near the center of the group so as not to make himself an easy target. But just as the tide of the battle was beginning to turn in their favor, Macavity gave a deafening, lionlike roar. Alonzo and Bill Bailey were blasted back, and Macavity, free to act, flung a paw over the warring tribe. Blood-red bolts of energy crackled from the tips of his claws, tongues of power connecting violently over their heads in a furious lattice. The air began to spark and hum, the intensity increasing until it seemed the sound alone was pressing them into the ground like a great, heavy paw. Then there was another blinding flash, a sound like an explosion…

…..

Jemima started violently awake, her pulse galloping in her ears, hooked claws scything out on instinct, snagging fur and flesh. "Watch it!" hissed someone angrily.

The young queen's eyes flew open. She blinked and frowned as she tried to focus. She heard a familiar yet oddly nervous giggle and a collective "Shh!"

"Got'choo good there, Admetus," snickered Rumpleteazer from a few yards away.

"Sorry," Jemima whispered. Admetus shrugged, gave a tight smile, and turned away, settling back into a curled-up position.

"Thank Bast," murmured Victoria's voice. Rolling over, Jemima found her friend lying next to her, watching her anxiously. "Demeter, she's awake!"

"Oy!" barked a harsh Pollicle voice. "Keep it down! No talking!"

Victoria's ears flattened down and she flinched, head dropping to her paws; normally immaculate white, they were stained with blood tonight, and her shoulders and flanks were scored with scratches. Jemima's heart sank at the sight and the sound of the dog's voice. She'd hoped that somehow the whole thing had been a dream. She was suddenly weak with relief that Etcetera was in Heaviside; the thought of little Etcy, so vulnerable and naïve, anywhere near these characters…she shuddered.

Victoria sat up as two familiar queens padded quietly up to them. Bombalurina and Demeter were battered, bruised, bleeding from multiple wounds; Demeter was limping and Bomba's left ear was shredded. But they were alive.

"Jemima," sighed Demeter in relief. "You had us so worried." Bombalurina gave her niece a concerned once-over. Satisfied that she was unhurt, the red queen groaned slightly as she stretched out beside Pouncival, who immediately began cleaning her torn ear. She winced, but seemed to appreciate the gesture. Demeter, meanwhile, was still checking Jemima for serious injuries. Finding none, she asked worriedly, "Are you all right, sweetheart?"

"I'm fine, mom," Jemima whispered back. "What happened?"

Quaxo, who had been situated beside Jemima, standing so still that she hadn't even seen him until he spoke, answered her. Greeting his mate with his usual loving simplicity—a paw brushing her flank, an affectionate flick of the ears—he said, "Mass unconsciousness. You're the last adult to wake up."

"Why's that?" asked Victoria, with something less than her usual curiosity.

Quaxo didn't look away from Jemima. "You weigh the least."

A terrible thought struck Jemima like a bucket of ice water. Suddenly short of breath, she gasped, "Quaxo, the kittens."

Concerned, the tuxedo tom stepped closer, covering her paw with his own. "They're fine," he assured her. "Don't worry, they'll wake up soon enough."

"No," she choked. "The electricity. I'm talking about…what if we lose…"

His eyes widened with understanding. "No, Jem, no," he said with hushed urgency. "It wasn't really lightning, love. It won't hurt them."

Jemima's eyes were still panicked. "Are you sure?"

Quaxo held her gaze and said slowly, firmly, "It was just a sleeping spell, Jemima. Our kittens will be fine." The calico queen gave a tiny nod, her breathing returning to normal.

And then Quaxo's words sank in.

"Your kittens?" Demeter asked in amazement, eyes flicking between her daughter and the conjurer. Eyes bulging at his slip, Quaxo cowered before the golden queen and gave a terrified squeak.

Victoria just smiled—Jemima wondered briefly why it looked like such a struggle—and nodded to her brother. "Congratulations, Misto," she said softly.

Remembering herself, Demeter blinked and said hurriedly, "Yes, of course, congratulations!"

Pouncival had temporarily forgotten about caring for Bombalurina's ear. He was staring at his childhood friends with a strange mixture of wonder, confusion, and vague discomfort. "How did that happen?" he asked stupidly.

Bombalurina took the time to wink at Jemima before rolling over, her face inches from Pouncival's. "Well, Pounce," she began in a low purr, ludicrously seductive, "When certain things happen between a tom and a queen-"

"Can we talk about something else, please?" Jemima said loudly.

"Shuddup over there! I said no talking!" bellowed the Pollicle who had spoken earlier.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Jemima turned to Victoria and said in a hushed whisper, "Vic, is everyone…okay? I mean, I saw what happened to...to Old Deuteronomy, but…"

The others exchanged glances, their brief moment of happiness gone. "Skimbleshanks and Jenny are fine," Demeter began carefully. "And none of the kittens are hurt. Jellylorum is fine…Alonzo is somehow fine, but…" She paused and looked at Bombalurina as if pleading for help. The red queen rose and stood protectively beside her sister.

"Cassandra lost an eye," she said, wincing, "And your sister's hurt. A Pollicle somehow got his teeth into her."

"Jenny says it's just a flesh wound," Pouncival added helpfully. "Electra's tough, she'll be all right."

Jemima sighed. For all that Electra was her half-sister—Demeter's daughter by Macavity—they had never been particularly close. Electra was a year older than Jemima, and had always been a loner. The only time they had ever had a conversation as sisters instead of friends was when Electra had given up her place at her second Jellicle Ball—what should have been her coming-of-age-ceremony—for Jemima, saying she didn't want the spotlight. Still, as strange a relationship as they had, they were family, and it was a relief to know that she wasn't seriously injured.

Bombalurina nodded slightly, looking nervous. This in itself was enough to set off alarm bells in Jemima's head. Bomba never looked nervous. "Jem," she said reluctantly, "There's no easy way to tell you this, but…well…Munkustrap's dead."

There was a long pause. Quaxo shifted so that he was closer to Jemima, and she leaned into him, fighting for control of her emotions. Finally she managed to whisper, in a fairly steady voice, "Who else?"

This time, Quaxo answered. "Tumblebrutus broke his leg when Macavity did the repulsion spell. He might survive, we don't know yet. Nobody knows what happened to Tantomile and Coricopat, but we think they escaped…"

Comforting as it was to hear that her friends might be safe, Jemima got the distinct impression that her mate was keeping something from her; or at the very least, that there was something he didn't want to say. Irritated and worried, she turned to Victoria and said desperately, "Who…" she paused and looked around. A sinking suspicion began to form. "Vic…where's Plato?"

The glistening tears in her friend's eyes answered the question.

"Oh, Vic, no…."

"He fell," Victoria breathed. "I didn't see it…but…it looks like he was fighting on the chair, and it fell…"

Unwillingly, Jemima looked over to the splintered wreckage of the old chair, which everyone was giving a wide berth. She couldn't bring herself to look closely at the unnaturally still, pale mound of fur buried in the wood.

"Victoria…I'm so…"

Jemima trailed off as a silent line of henchcats and dogs began pressing in from their left. The creatures moved slowly and purposefully, shoulder-to-shoulder, with the deliberateness of those who expect to be obeyed. The cold look on their faces prompted the Jellicles to waste no time retreating to the center of the Junkyard. Looking around, they found that it hadn't been a line so much as a vast ring of enemies herding them closer together. The wounded cats pulled themselves to their feet, some more painfully than others; Electra needed only a steadying arm from Jellylorum to compensate for her injured shoulder, while Tumblebrutus was all but sobbing in pain as he tried to limp along with Jennyanydots and Skimble supporting him. He moved slowly, and the henchcats were obviously irritated as they tried to hurry him along. Electra hissed at a particularly pushy henchcat, who clawed her across the face. Alonzo ushered her protectively behind him, hissing at the henchcat as he swept Cassandra into Jellylorum's comforting presence; the graceful Abyssinian's face was covered in blood, and she jumped and gasped when Alonzo accidentally approached her from her blind side. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, Jemima noticed, were included with the rest of the Jellicles. Apparently, their bravery on behalf of their tribe had not gone unnoticed. The twins had chosen their side, and while Jerrie was bruised badly and Teazer had twisted her ankle, they looked strangely proud to prisoners with the others.

Thankfully, Macavity's gang halted their advance once the Jellicles were clustered manageably in the center of the gathering area. Tumblebrutus immediately collapsed, breathing heavily, and the others settled slowly to the ground around him. After a short pause, a huge Pollicle stepped forward. All eyes went to him immediately. He scanned the arrayed cats and sneered derisively before announcing in a ringing voice, "There is a conjurer among you." There was a long pause. "Where is he?"

Silence.

The dogs still standing in the circle began to growl and bark, and the head Pollicle snarled in a deadly voice, "You will regret it if you do not tell us which of you is the conjurer."

To the everlasting glory of the Jellicle tribe, not a single cat gave Quaxo away. None of them so much as glanced in his direction. On the contrary, they drew ever so slightly closer together, lifting their heads boldly. This was their form of resistance.

Eyes burning with fury at this blatant defiance, the dog lunged forward and grabbed the youngest kitten in the tribe. He dragged her forward by one leg and standing threateningly above her, a heavy paw on her chest all that was needed to keep the tiny creature still. "You," growled the Pollicle. "Which cat is the magician, girl?"

Tiny Courtesy, who was younger than Jemima had been at her first Ball, looked up at the snarling dog, eyes wide with fear. But she clamped her mouth shut and shook her head bravely, even trying to claw at her captor. His eyes flashed murderously, and he raised a paw to strike at the kitten.

It was enough to bring Quaxo catapulting to his feet. He yelled—Mr. Mistoffelees who rarely spoke louder than a decorous murmur—"Leave her alone! It's me!" To prove his point, he raised a paw and summoned one of his favorite tricks; what he called the Flaming Fan. Five tongues of blue flame whirled around his paw like a Catherine wheel. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he transformed the flames into a frog, which he bent down and released. It gave a mournful ribbit before dissolving into golden sparks.

"Presto," he whispered.

The grim circle began shifting, muttering amongst itself. The Pollicle, though clearly disconcerted, rallied quickly. "Your new leader wants to see you," he said in a tone that clearly stated the audience was not optional.

Jemima knew that. Still, as Mistoffelees rose from his kneeling position to follow the dog, she couldn't stop herself from reaching out, putting a paw on his arm, stopping him. "Quaxo," she whispered, wishing her voice didn't sound so much like a scared kitten's.

Turning instinctively at the sound of his name, Quaxo's eyes gentled when he saw the terror written on Jemima's face. Taking her extended paw between his own, he knelt again and kissed it tenderly, meeting her eyes with a soft smile. Jemima's eyes closed of their own accord, and she held his paw to her cheek, purring gently.

"Aaaw," said the Pollicle sarcastically. "If you want to see your girlfriend again in one piece, boy, maybe you shouldn't keep Macavity waiting!"

Quaxo didn't budge, his eyes locked on Jemima as if waiting for her permission. "Go," she whispered, pulling away. "He's right, you have to go."

"Good girl," sneered the Pollicle. Suddenly violent, he barked at Mistoffelees, "Now, move!"