PART ONE

UNWANTED INTERVENTIONS

When Quaxo woke the next morning, the first thing he took in was that the sun had only broken the surface of the horizon perhaps a minute or two before. It was not yet high enough for the fiery sphere's rays to properly warm his coat or for many other Jellicles to be up and about, but he suspected that most of the kittens would already be awake. As he stretched his stiff muscles and idly washed the backs of his ears, his suspicions were confirmed by the sounds of feet scampering around the piles of broken chairs outside. Stretching himself one more time to rid the last of the tautness from his back legs, he padded silently towards the entrance of the tunnel, leaving a sleeping Victoria still nestled where he had previously lain with her.

He blinked instinctively at the light that caught his face as he stepped out, and as his eyes adjusted to the morning outside, the sounds of scraping caught his attention to his left. Curious as he was, he moved towards the direction of the source of the sound. His ears twitched and his tail flicked at the new sound of rustling paper, and he stopped in his tracks at the sounds of muffled whispering coming from near where the rustling had come from. His sharpened senses caught the familiar scent of dew off the damp newspaper which rustled ever so slightly; he would have considered it his own mere imagination if it had not been for the scraping sounds which had alerted his attention previously. He reacted instantly, sidestepping a small puddle and deftly darted around a dustbin where he crouched low and waited for them to emerge. As if in response to his presumption, a white kitten with brown and black stripes bounded out from behind the covering of newspaper. She was quickly followed by a brown and cream kitten with a brown patch over his left eye that splashed carelessly into the puddle that Quaxo had previously avoided. He jumped backwards, recoiling from the water that now soaked his front paws. The striped white kitten ignored her brother's misfortune, and a perplexed expression crossed her face as she glanced around for her victim whom no longer appeared to be there.

The feeling of smug satisfaction combined with the thrill of mischievousness made Quaxo's whiskers twitch in silent mirth. He tensed his back legs, his back curving upwards into the hunter's stance. As the tousled kitten shook his paws to flick the insulting droplets off his paws and the striped kitten cast about for signs of her victim's escape, Quaxo sprang forwards, catching hold of his victim in his paws as both black and striped cat tumbled together. The brown and cream kitten leapt aside in shock, losing his balance in his haste and splashed into the puddle again, this time releasing a cry of mixed surprise and annoyance at his ill luck. Quaxo laughed as he watched Pouncival run about madly in his humiliation, shaking the water off his coat which sent droplets landing on Quaxo's own fur. He waited for the little tom's embarrassment to subside before he spoke to both kittens.

"Best to keep your eye on the target all the time," he advised. "Otherwise you'll never catch a mouse or rat, or even another cat for that matter."

"We can catch mice and rats," Etcetera protested in meek response. "You're just too quick to catch."

"No not really. I heard you both before I saw you, so I slipped away and waited for you to appear." The black tuxedo cat tickled the little striped kitten's furry stomach with his paw affectionately, and she swatted him in playful return.

"How did you know we were coming?" Pouncival asked, joining his two companions lying on the ground. His fur still looked damp, but the muddy colour that had stained his creamy brown coat before had been washed clean. He returned to cleaning his fur as he settled himself beside the black cat and his sister.

"Intuition and experience." Quaxo watched as Etcetera pressed her paw against the white patch of fur on his chest, and then he continued. "You'll learn it soon enough. It's not a rare thing that only comes occasionally. It's a skill all of us learn."

"Like your magic?" Etcetera asked eagerly. Her eyes widened as images of the Jellicle Ball swam to the front of her mind. Quaxo shook his head, his whiskers twitching into a cat smile as he flexed his paws, feeling the familiar tingling sensation return to the tips of his paw pads.

"Well, intuition is a cat quality. We all learn it in time."

"But what about the magic you use? Do we all learn that too?" Etcetera asked hopefully. The black cat's whiskers twitched again as he shook his head sombrely.

"I'm afraid not, little one."

"Then how can you do it?" The little tom's face looked baffled.

"I don't know. It feels more like an instinct than something which is perceived." A twinge of remorse pulsed through him as he stared at the disillusioned expression on Pouncival's face which reflected his sister's with equal emotion. "But it's nothing to worry about," he added, as if his words could compensate for their disenchantment. "It sometimes makes life more difficult for me."

"Why's that?" The dejectedness on Etcetera's face was immediately replaced by curiosity.

An introspective look had crossed Quaxo's face which seemed to indicate his separation from awareness. The two kittens glanced at one another briefly before their attention was stolen by the sound of a familiar tom cat's voice cutting through the awkward silence. A dark Maine Coon tom appeared around the side of an overturned table, his gait elevated and swaying as he crossed into view. Unable to contain her excitement, Etcetera launched herself in the tom's direction, who stopped momentarily as the little kitten rubbed her body against his side in open affection. Pouncival pattered after his sister enthusiastically, though in the hopes of finding more amusement in his sister's fondness for the tom than having to watch him flaunt his flamboyant manners at every female within reach.

Although Quaxo's eyes watched the two kittens playing about Tugger's feet, his mind was immersed in the rush of thoughts that reeled to the surface of his consciousness. His mind was still swimming in the waters of his memories as he got to his paws, slipped past the kittens and Rum Tum Tugger and started in the direction of the junkyard's entrance. Sliding through the iron bars of the gate, he let his memory rob his attention as he turned down the street towards the houses which accommodated the wealthier society of London.

It was raining. The clouds massed together over central London, forming a cover of grey that made the atmosphere below feel damp and moist. From amongst a clutter of dustbins, Quaxo poked his head out from his temporary quarters, casting about for signs of activity. A large raindrop landed square on the crown of his head, and he jumped backwards, shaking his head hastily. From behind him, a small white kitten peered over his head to inspect the view outside for herself. Glancing back at her, he watched as she slid past him and leaned out to scan her surroundings more properly. Not wanting to be left behind, Quaxo followed her, jumping over his sister's form gracefully, yet landing awkwardly as he staggered to prevent himself from falling over.

Both kittens leant out from amongst the dustbins, startling each time a fat raindrop fell beside them or landed on their coats. Braver than his sister when confronted with wet weather, Quaxo stepped out into plain view, this time ignoring the splatters that fell on his black fur. He started towards a pile of damp boxes that had been piled unceremoniously next to a flight of steps leading to a human's home. Curiously, he sniffed the wet cardboard before springing up onto the first box and peering inside the box's contents.

"Quaxo please don't. If one of the humans catches you, you're going to be in a load of trouble." Victoria scampered hurriedly after him, stopping to stare up at her brother apprehensively, who had already climbed onto the second box. Deliberately paying no attention to his sister's plea, Quaxo scrutinised the third box above him. Without a wide enough ledge to jump from, he dug his claws into the wet cardboard, pulling himself up ineptly. Another anxious meow from his sister below made him glance down at his sister's dishevelled form on the ground below. Her striking white coat was completely drenched and her unhappy expression almost made him clamber down to comfort her, but his curiosity overpowered him as he turned to poke his head into the third box.

Underneath a pile of broken animal toys and discarded books, a small tub of counters and a pair of black and white dice sat dolefully. With a small twitch of his whiskers, Quaxo reached underneath the jumble and scraped the lid of the container clumsily. His paw pulled the tub closer to him as he leant further into the box, and within a matter of seconds, he had closed his paw over the one of the dice. Remerging, he pushed the die off the edge of the box, where it clattered onto the wet floor.

The sound of a door opening made him jump, and almost deliberately, he half-jumped, half-toppled into the box as the noise of footsteps slapped the pavement beside him. His heart pounded wildly in his chest as he struggled to right himself and stay still until the footfalls receded and the door slammed shut. He lay crouched in the box for another few painful seconds, then finally poked his head out to investigate the situation. From where he was, he couldn't see Victoria, yet he could sense that she was still close by. Ducking back into the box, Quaxo reached into the tub and pulled out the second die in his paw. As he pushed his head out again, he let the dice fall onto the ground as he pulled himself out of the box. Leaning over the side, he saw a glimpse of white fur beneath the flap of the first box.

"They're gone, Vic." The little black kitten jumped from the third box to the first, landing neatly above his sister's curled up form hidden beneath the flap of cardboard. A feeling of cunning momentarily seized him as he considered startling his sister with an unexpected appearance, but from the way he noticed her rigid shape pressed against the box, he chose to restrain his mischief. He leapt down off the box onto the ground, examining his sister's frightened features, nuzzling himself against her as he saw her wide blue eyes frozen in fear. It seemed a little while before she would move from her hiding place, but eventually he coaxed her out from beneath the box flap, where he then scurried over to the fallen dice and began to push it about with his paw.

"What's that?"

As the little black kitten let his sister sniff the unfamiliar object, his whiskers twitched joyfully as she reached out to gingerly nudge the die uncertainly. Pushing the die back and forth with more confidence, he watched as she batted the die several feet away from them, then bounded after her and the rolling die. He sprang gracefully over his sister's running outline as she pulled up short, but he had already pressed his paw over the small black cube by the time she realised he had taken it from her. "Don't be a spoilsport—let us both play with it." She thrust her paw beneath his to try and take the die from him, but as she pushed his paw aside, she only uncovered empty air.

"Come on, where is it?" She swiped at him artfully, but he avoided her swing by ducking beneath her paw.

"It's a secret. You won't be able to find it now." As he gave his sister a wicked smile, she pounced on him in revenge. As both kittens rolled over one another, they abruptly ceased their wrestling match as a familiar smell drifted towards them. Wordlessly, they both scrambled to their feet, darting over to the bins they had previously emerged from as they began to trace the delicious scent.

"Quaxo, here!"

The sounds of paper crackling made the black kitten's ears prick and his whiskers twitch in anticipation as he leapt towards the direction of the rustling. Swerving around a black dustbin, he saw Victoria crouched over an old crumpled newspaper, bent over a small pile of chicken scraps. With a burst of delight, he scampered over to her, skidding to a halt as he breathed in the mouth-watering scent before snatching a piece in his teeth and gulping it down greedily. His sister ate noticeably with more dignity, but he knew that she was struggling to contain her hunger as she pulled a piece of chicken towards her with a delicate paw. Neither kittens were old enough to have been weaned off milk yet, but with no mother to care for them, they had been forced to suffice with scraps thrown out by the humans. Discarded leftovers were no filling meal for two growing kittens, or valuable enough in nutrition, but nonetheless, Quaxo was glad his sister had discovered a meal. This small course would have to last them another day at minimum.

"Well done, sister," he thanked appreciatively as the little white kitten proceeded to wash her paws.

"I'm sure you would have done the same for me." Yet she purred contentedly in spite of her discarding words.

"Of course, little sister." Quaxo licked the last taste of chicken from his paws before casting his attention back to the boxes sitting across the other side of the steps. Happily, he jumped onto the first step, racing over the wet stone as he jumped down on the other side and started playing with the leftover die. Slowly, Victoria followed after him, craftily snatching the die from him as she landed from the step next to him.

"You going to give back the one you stole from me?" She rolled the dice about with her paw offhandedly as she returned the wicked smile he had given her before.

"Only if you can find it," Quaxo replied with an enigmatical look that didn't quite match the devious glint in his amber-green eyes.

The unexpected sound of a lock clicking in a door made Quaxo suddenly freeze. He saw Victoria's eyes widen in shock as the sound of rapid footfalls drew nearer from behind the unlocked door. He whipped his head over his shoulder just in time to see the black door swing open as a small boy ran out of the door, pushing a large hoop down the steps with a stick while a little girl skipped out behind him. He didn't pause another moment to watch the two humans as he wheeled around and bolted towards the boxes, hastily shoving Victoria underneath the flap as he crouched low beside her.

The boy guided the hoop with ease, turning the hoop with a simple tap of his stick, playfully rolling it around his sister's still form as she watched him with sullenly. As he stretched out to grasp hold of the escaping hoop, he stopped and turned to look at his sister, an expression of utmost superiority emphasising his haughty features.

"Give it to me, Matthew," the little girl demanded, her hand outstretched as if to take the hoop from him. "You've had your turn longer than I had last time." She made to snatch the hoop from him, but he held it high above his head, grinning down at her tauntingly.

"Catch it then," he goaded, as she glared at him petulantly. His eyes suddenly widened as they focused on something behind her. "What are they doing out here?" His voice was suddenly sharp and accusatory. As he moved towards the pile of cardboard boxes, Quaxo hurriedly scuffled backwards, urging Victoria around the back of the box. He drew in a quick breath, his thoughts racing. If they made a run for cover now, they'd surely be seen.

"Mother had them put out. She said we didn't need those things anymore." The little girl's voice had now taken on the air of disdain as she watched her brother sift through the boxes.

"Well, she shouldn't have. I still use these things." The boy bent over the top box and started fishing its contents out. "Where's the tub of dice and the counters?"

"Leave it alone. And besides, why do you care? You never used them anyway."

"I was using them."

"No you weren't." The girl put a hand on her hip self-righteously, her eyes flashing conceitedly as she watched her brother's features turn desperate.

"Mother can't throw these things away."

"She already has. They're not ours anymore. So stop prying, Matthew—Mother will come out soon and find you." She stepped forwards to take a hold of his wrist, but her features froze as she caught sight of something beneath the flap of one of the boxes. "What's that?"

"What?"

Quaxo scrabbled backwards as a pair of feet turned to face him. His heart was racing; he could feel his stomach tightening as second pair of feet joined the first. The sound of rustling from above made him glance up.

"It's a cat!"

He launched himself forwards, as he saw Victoria streak out in front of him. The whole box shifted as Quaxo dived after his sister who had leapt over the steps and was dashing towards the dustbins on the other side.

"There are two of them!"

Footfalls rang out behind them as the children gave chase to the two kittens that ran for cover. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Victoria flit past the bins, heading straight for the corner of the building in order to escape the chaos. At that point, a large, lumbering mastiff rounded the corner, followed by a tall man holding a long yellow cane. Victoria skidded to a halt, her ears flattening instinctively as she bent low, rooted to the spot. Then she pivoted round and ran. The dog, sensing an easy pursuit, bounded after her, as the man's voice called out sharply. Too driven by the temptation and thrill of the chase, the dog ignored his master's call.

Hot anger and a prickling sensation coursed through Quaxo's body as he saw his sister tearing towards him in terror. A sudden clatter broke amid the clamour of barking and shouting, as the hoop which had been propped against the handrail rolled out onto the pavement. Even though it caught the mastiff lightly on the shoulder, it was enough to send the dog off course and halt him in surprise. Victoria took stance behind Quaxo's defensive form, her fur standing on end as she ruffled herself up aggressively. She hissed viciously at her chaser as Quaxo whipped round to see the two children closing in quickly. Suddenly without warning, he tripped and fell, landing hard on his hands and knees with an alarmed shout. Seizing their opportunity, Quaxo shoved his sister forwards into a run. At the same time as the little girl made a wild snatch at his sister. Her fingers grazed Victoria's coat as Quaxo snarled at her in fury.

The brother had pushed himself up onto his knees from the fall, the skin on his palms and knees stinging as he swivelled round to inspect what had upset his balance. His eyes fell on the small black die sitting a mere foot's length from where he had fallen, before he bent to examine his sore palms with tender concern. His sister's cry cut through the rain, snatching away his attention as he glanced up in time to see the two kittens making a reckless escape past him. He launched himself forwards, his hand snaking out like a whip as he made a grab for the kitten closest to him. His hands closed around the tiny scrabbling body, eliciting a petrified yelp from the kitten as he pulled it from the ground.

Quaxo heard his sister's terrified squeal ring out from behind him. His heart seemed to cease beating in that moment as he skidded to a stop and twisted round. Through the drizzle of rain that half-blinded him, he could see Victoria thrashing about wildly as the little girl took hold of his sister and pressed her close to her chest. Abandoning any sense of reason, he tore towards the two humans, scratching and clawing at the little girl's legs as he wailed desperately for her to let his sister go. Angrily, the boy used his shoe to push him away roughly, but when he stumbled back towards them again dizzy from his mistreatment, the boy kicked him hard in the side.

The gentleman holding the long cane had drawn up next to them, frowning in puzzlement as he stared at the two children clutching the white kitten, while the black one cried at their feet. "Is that your kitten?"

The children appeared fearful for a fleeting moment. But then the boy nodded, stroking the little white kitten's coat affectionately. "Yes sir. She went missing for a few days after the cook left the back door ajar. But it looks as if your dog had found her before we did."

"Ralph has always chased every cat in sight. Some dogs will tolerate them, but he doesn't." The gentleman stroked the mastiff at his heels fondly. "And what about that one?" His gaze focused on the small black kitten mewling at the children's feet. "Is that one of yours too?"

"No," the boy replied shortly. "That one must be a stray. Ours must have befriended it while she was on the streets."

"Best have your kitten taken to the vet's for fleas then," the gentleman advised sternly. "She may have caught it from the stray."

Even as he continued to scrape hopelessly at the girl's feet, Quaxo felt his body's strength declining rapidly. His vision became a temporary blur as his attempted to search for Victoria's gaze, but when he tried to lift his head, he felt utterly exhausted from the attempt. His legs began to tremble from the influence of his abilities, and his surroundings suddenly became indistinct. His senses felt dulled and imprecise as he felt the girl's feet from beneath his paws shift, and he almost fell over as he was pushed off balance. Through the unsettling haze that clouded him, he saw several blurs receding away, and smelled the fetid stench of a dog's breath that produced a bitter taste in his mouth. His mind fought desperately to drag himself away from the repulsive scent as he staggered slowly towards the dustbins that would shelter him from the rain. As he hauled himself in the direction of an overturned crate, his legs shuddered once more before he collapsed onto the wet stone, pulling his legs in towards his chest as the rain continued to patter down on his defeated body.