Chapter Six
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Munkustrap stood in the middle of the floor, his booming voice silencing everyone immediately. With a grand gesture, he motioned to a tunnel near the tire, "We shall now begin the Procession of the Exiles!"
The Jellicle crowd cheered with delight. Macavity felt Demeter instantly stiffen beside him.
Admetus appeared beside the black and gold queen, "Deuteronomy has asked that you return to your seat."
"Certainly," Demeter said quickly, turning away so that no one could see the utter despair on her face. She had not thought about the prospect of watching her mother be paraded before the Jellicles, belittled and humiliated.
Macavity watched her go; he suddenly understood her motives—she was going to avenge the injustice caused by his father. The Napoleon of Crime honestly didn't mind the idea of making Deuteronomy pay for his crimes. After all, did he not have cause to hate his father?
Bombalurina and Deuteronomy were already seated on the tire, with Rum Tum Tugger and the rest of the harem queens.
Demeter quietly took her place beside her sister. She noticed that Jellyorum stared ahead with a stoic expression, her green eyes uncharacteristically lifeless. Cassandra was gently holding the Felinestine queen's paw between her own, stroking it comfortingly.
So it must be true—Jellyorum still carries the flame for her former mate, Demeter mused. Why else would she be so distraught?
A slow, steady drum began to pound, like the beat of a heart, echoing ominously into the dark silent night. A long line of bedraggled cats marched forth, their faces sunken and hollow from years of captivity and abject humiliation.
Demeter felt her sister shift closer to her, as if Bombalurina might draw strength from her sister's mere presence. With anxious eyes, the two sisters watched the ever-growing line of cats, but their mother did not appear.
Finally, the line reached its end, and the captives stood dejectedly before the Jellicle crowd.
Munkustrap spoke again, his voice booming across the quiet crowd, "See here, the might of the Jellicle—witness the defeat of our foes! All were once kings and queens of might tribes—now nothing remains of their kingdoms. Over all, the Jellicle has prevailed!"
A feverish cheer erupted from the crowd, pulsing with an overwhelming sense of pride and patriotism. Jellyorum leaned back, her lip curling in disgust.
"Heathens," she muttered to herself. "So full of arrogance and ignorance. Oh, soon they will rue the day they were so bold as to mock their foes."
"Peace, my Queen," Cassandra spoke soothingly. She was the only one who heard Jellyorum's veiled threat.
"There will be no peace for me until all is set aright," Jellyorum said bitterly. Her eyes were filled with sorrow as she saw her mate—her Gus!—whose paws now shook with palsy and old age. She should be with him, caring for him, comforting him, but Deuteronomy would never allow such a thing. Her heart boiled with an all-consuming hatred.
The captives were lead away again.
Demeter felt Bombalurina's shoulders slump beside her.
"Perhaps she has already died," the red queen said quietly.
"Perhaps," Demeter replied, her eyes still fixed on the retreating forms of the exiles. "It would be better if she were dead—I would hate for her to see such a fate."
"Yes," Bomba admitted sadly. "Death would be better than such dishonor."
"Are you ready to leave, ladies?" Admetus asked quietly. Although he had not heard their conversation, he knew what they were thinking—he understood the pain and humiliation they must have felt. Taking them away was the only way that he could ease the hurt.
"Yes, please," Demeter turned to him with a grateful smile.
Admetus gave a gracious bow, "After you, Madame."
~*~
"Tonight was a rather interesting night," Demeter commented as she stretched out on the pillow.
"Yes," Bomba said quietly. She was remembering her time spent with Deuteronomy, "Have you come up with an escape plan yet?"
"Not yet," Demeter admitted in a tired tone. "But I think I am one step closer, though."
"What do you mean?"
Demeter rolled over, her green eyes meeting her sister's dark ones, "I have found an ally—a cat with a common cause, who will be most useful when I do concoct a plan."
"Who?"
"Macavity."
"Oh," Bomba said simply.
"What do you think of him?" Demeter asked, her tone sounding very much like an eager little kit's.
"He seems a bit…moody," Bombalurina admitted with a cringe. She knew that was not what her sister wanted to hear. "I find him a bit unsettling."
"Yes, he is, isn't he?" Demeter said dreamily.
Bombalurina noted her sister's enchanted tone; the red queen merely sighed. Something told her that Macavity would become a part of their life—little did she know how large that part would be.
~*~
Utter silence filled the Fallen Queens' Harem—not even a breeze dared to stir the silk canopies. Deep within the shadows, two figures sat side by side, their voices little more than hushed whispers.
"We have to do it," whispered the first. "It's the only way."
"Demeter would never do such a thing—never in a million years!" Hissed the second.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," the first replied cryptically. "You did not see how she was looking at Macavity—we may have found the key to the Kitteni's undoing."
"And how will this help our plan?"
"Trust me, it will."
"How?"
"It just will. Do not question me any further."
"Why must you always keep me in the dark?"
"Because I can. Now shut up, will you?"
"Fine. But remember who does all your dirty work—"
"Oh, stop your complaining." The first replied in an irritated tone. "You were the one who wanted to do it—you volunteered, if I remember correctly—"
"I volunteered because you wanted me to," the second shot back hotly. "Don't even pretend that I had a choice in this."
"You really can be quite pathetic, you know," the first one said harshly.
"Well, we can't all be held to your perfect standard," the second one grumbled, although it was obvious that the first figure had just won the argument.
"Enough talk," the first one stood up. "Let's get out of here, before some one sees us—or worse, over hears us."
"Yes," the second agreed. "A life in exile isn't exactly on my wish list."
"It can't be much worse than life is now," replied the first philosophically.
"Perhaps," the second shrugged. "I, for one, do no wish to find out."
"We begin tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
~*~
As usual, the harem queens were all stretched out in the morning sun, sleeping or chatting aimlessly about this or that. Demeter kept one light green eye open, casually observing the others.
Jellyorum was napping at a distance, her expression curiously unreadable, as always. The other queens always kept their distance from the calico—over the past five years, she had exerted her influence as Deuteronomy's favorite, and no one dared to cross her.
Then there was Jennyanydots, who was not actually a prisoner—in fact, she was Deuteronomy's sister, a member of the royal household, but she chose to spend her days with the queens from the Harem, since there were very few other cats with whom she could associate. They might be prisoners, but at least some of them were from royal blood. She was the only cat whom Jellyorum did not treat with utter disdain; the two queens shared an unusual friendship—at times they hated each other, and yet remained the fiercest of friends. They reminded Demeter of ill-matched sisters.
There were several other queens that Demeter did not know by name; then of course, Bombalurina and Tantomile, who were curled up side by side, peacefully sleeping away the morning.
Demeter's observation was interrupted by Cassandra, who approached with an apprehensive expression, "Madame, could I speak to you for a moment?"
"Certainly," Demeter smiled warmly. Her friendship with Cassandra had proved very rewarding indeed—the dark queen kept her informed of all the comings and goings of the Jellicle world.
Cassandra waited until they were a safe distance from the other cats before she spoke, "It's about your mother."
"What about her?" Demeter was instantly on-edge.
"She's dead."
"I had guessed as much," Demeter said quietly. "She was very sick when I went to see her."
Cassandra's blue eyes filled with a strange sense of sadness, "No, Kitteni—she did not die of illness. She was murdered."
Demeter felt as if someone has sucker-punched her in the stomach—the air left her lungs, a searing pain entered her chest. She found herself unable to breathe. "Wha-what do you mean?"
"She defied Old Deuteronomy," Cassandra said simply. "Word is that he had her executed three days ago."
Demeter still had not taken a breath—her chest seemed locked in an iron grip, unable to move. She stared blindly ahead, the world seemed to spin into a dark and confusing whirlpool.
"It's OK—just breathe, Demeter. Breathe," Cassandra cooed softly, patting the black and gold queen's back comfortingly. "C'mon, just let it out."
Demeter did as she was commanded—she somehow found the willpower to fill her lungs, and then she began to sob uncontrollably. Cassandra had expected to see tears, but she was surprised to see such emotion from the Kitteni. Demeter had always seemed so strong and in-control of her self; it was hard to see her cry with such abandon.
"Oh, dearie," Cassandra whispered, gently taking Demeter into an embrace, fearful of breaking the fragile creature. "We will get through this, I promise. You have to—"
"I have to avenge my mother," Demeter spoke suddenly, her tears hardening into a dangerous new resolve.
"What?" Cassandra sat back, completely shocked by this announcement. "No! You can't take on Old Deuteronomy—it's impossible!"
"I will do it—with or without your help," Demeter declared staunchly. Gone was the sniveling queen who collapsed at the news of her mother's death—in her place stood a dangerous new creature, one bent on redeeming her bloodline at all costs.
Cassandra felt a shiver go up her spine. This was going to be a bloody battle indeed.
"I must tell Bombalurina the news," Demeter said sadly, but there was still a look of determination in her eye that filled Cass with the darkest of fear.
"Oh, Bast," whispered the Abyssinian as she watched Demeter walk away. "What have I done?"
~*~
"You can't tell her," Tantomile said quietly as Demeter approached.
"What?" Demeter stopped. She stared curiously at her servant, "Have you been—"
"I read Cassandra's mind," Tantomile replied, her golden eyes filled with disinterest. She never was one for emotions of any kind—they got in the way, made things difficult. "You can't tell Bombalurina, not if you still want to win Deuteronomy."
"What do you mean?" Demeter asked suspiciously.
"If your sister knows that Deuteronomy killed your mother, she'll never forgive him. She will hate him."
Demeter gave a small nod. If Bomba turned against Deuteronomy, then their scheme would fail—she and Tantomile had decided that they would use Deuteronomy's infatuation with Bomba as his Achilles heel, his one weakness open to attack. In order to do that, Bombalurina had to be allowed to fall in love, to truly care for the Jellicle Leader. Demeter felt a slight pang of guilt over using her sister as a pawn in her machinations, but it was the only way.
"You're right," Demeter gave a heavy sigh. "We won't tell her."
Tantomile nodded in agreement, "It's for the best."
"Yes," Demeter said quietly. "For the best."
~*~
Coricopat watched Bombalurina sleep, her pale face a picture of peace and contentment. The red queen stirred slightly, rolling onto her side and grimacing at the bright light that flooded her face. She opened her eyes, slowly pulling herself up into the sitting position. She looked around, slightly bewildered, "Where are the others?"
"I do not know," Coricopat answered truthfully.
"So you have deigned to speak to me, I see," Bomba gave a tight smile, one that did not reach her eyes. "You've been as talkative as a rock all week."
"You have been too busy, Madame," Corico replied with a stoic expression, his eyes glued to the horizon.
"I've missed you," Bombalurina said quietly, her dark eyes fixing on Coricopat.
"You seemed to be having a fine time without me last night," he couldn't help but point out. The bitterness in his voice was evident.
Bomba seemed hurt by the comment, "What was I supposed to do—mope around, make doe eyes at you, give away our secret?"
Coricopat gave a heavy sigh. "I don't want to have this fight—not now, not today."
"Neither do I," Bomba replied. "But I don't want you angry at me either. Please don't shut me out."
"What do you mean?" Coricopat looked at her.
"You do it all the time—you just shut off, and you leave me here to wonder what I did wrong," Bomba replied quietly. "You just…drift away. I feel like I'm being punished."
"You're not," Corico assured her. "I'm just removing myself from the situation."
"You are removing yourself from me," Bomba corrected.
"Bomba, don't start—"
"See, there you go again—"
"Don't," Coricopat repeated sternly, his golden eyes boring into hers with frightening intensity. Bombalurina lowered her gaze submissively. She gave the lightest of sighs and turned away. An awful silence followed.
"I didn't choose this life, you know," she spoke quietly. Although he couldn't see her face, Coricopat knew she was crying. "I didn't choose any of this."
Then she turned back to him, her beautiful eyes filled with earnestness, "But I did choose you—despite everything I knew, everything I had been taught, I chose you."
"Bomba—"
"And you may think I'm being petty or childish or whatever—I don't care." Bomba threw her paws up. "But I'm not losing you. Not without a fight."
There was another moment of silence. This time, it was Coricopat who spoke. His voice was quiet, filled with tenderness, "You'll never lose me, my Queen. But I fear that someday I will lose you."
"What?" Bomba seemed heartbroken by the statement. "Cori, I would never—"
"Someday, some charming tom will come along—someone of royal blood, someone who is worthy of you—and you will have to accept his—"
"No. Never."
"It will happen, Bomba."
"Never."
"Then tell me that you did not feel something for Tugger, or for Deuteronomy."
"What?"
"I saw the way you looked at them last night—"
"You vacant cow—don't you know I have to do that? I have to accept it, in order to survive!" Bombalurina was angry now. "And in case you've forgotten, your survival depends on mine as well—you should be thanking me!"
"What happens when one of them asks you to become his mate?" Coricopat shot back. He would not stand for Bomba's righteous tirade. "You will not refuse—"
"But I will not love them, either," Bomba replied. There was a moment of shock. She stared helplessly at Coricopat, a small, sad smile at the corners of her mouth, "No matter what happens, Cori, no one will compare with you. I love you—I truly do. My heart will always be yours."
Coricopat stared back at her, his face a mixture of shock and heartbreak. In an achingly soft voice, he asked, "Why do you do this to me, Kitteni? Why must you torture me so?"
"I did not know my love was so torturous," Bombalurina spoke quietly. She seemed genuinely hurt. She wrapped her tail around herself, blinking back tears. "I am sorry that my affection has been such a burden to you. Had I known—"
"We can never be," Corico reminded her. "And yet you, you, you taunt me with this declaration of undying devotion—you offer me all that I have ever wanted, knowing full well that I can never have it. Why? Does my pain bring you joy? Are you content to harm me in the name of love?"
There was a dreadful pause. The two cats merely stared at each other.
"I-I-I am sorry, Coricopat," Bombalurina stuttered, still shocked by his statement. She turned away, "I never wished to harm you—I have always assumed that our love brought you the same amount of joy that it afforded me. But surely you do not think that this has been easy for me—"
"You are a Kitteni queen. Everything is easy for you."
Bombalurina whirled around fiercely, her dark eyes filled with anger, "Do you honestly think that I have not wished for more? That I don't feel the same restraints as you do? I lie awake at night, wishing beyond all hope that I could simply have you next to me—and all the while, I know my prayers are in vain! This is the story of my life—I was born into honor and power, which taken away by the Jellicle. Now I shall be forced to become the mate to one of the cats who destroyed my home, my tribe, and my life—although, even if I were still a Kitteni heir, my mate would be chosen for me. I am by birthright the kit of a god—the blood of the Rumpus Cat courses through my veins!—and yet I cannot chose anything for myself. That is what I am—a queen without a throne, a deity without power, a supreme ruler without a choice. And you think my life is easy?!"
Coricopat did not respond. He simply bowed his head to the ground. A heavy silence filled the air, weighing both the cats with its somber stillness.
Finally, the black and white tom spoke, "Madame, even on your worst of days, you have more choice than I."
He looked up, his golden eyes filled with unshed tears, "I am bound til death to follow you. I experience all of your disgraces; I am present for every event of your life—your defeat is my defeat; your sorrow and imprisonment are enforced upon me as well. And through it all, I am still your servant. I will be forced to watch some other tom win your heart, knowing that I will never to free to love again—my oath forbids that I should ever pledge fealty to any other queen but you and your sister. You shall move on, have kits and fond memories, and I shall remain as a shadow in the corner, watching your life with painful remembrance of the time we once shared. For me, such a fate will be an endless torture."
"Then I shall release you from your vows," Bombalurina said quietly, her dark eyes locking onto his with painful intensity. "I shall release you from my service, so that you may have a full life, not one spent in sorrow and solitude."
Coricopat gave a sad smile, "Madame, we both know it cannot be done. Nothing can break the oath that was sworn. Nothing but death."
"I will find a way," Bomba vowed. A strange new resolve has set in her pale expression—Coricopat knew she would do as she said. "I will find a way to release you, so that you can be free of my curse."
"You are not a curse," Corico assured her gently.
"But loving me is."
"Yes," Coricopat admitted softly. He reached out, gently touching the tip of her paw—he did not dare caress her face in the light of day, in front of so many watchful eyes. "But it is a beautifully painful curse—one worth suffering."
Bombalurina gave a wry smile at the comment. Her eyes filled with a new sense of ardor. She whispered softly, "You are the only thing in this life that I have chosen for myself. Of all the things in my life, you are the only part that I have ever wanted. You must understand that, if nothing else—I chose to be with you. That is a gift that no other tom will ever have. You are my love and my choice, and even if other decisions are made for me, ones that separate us from each other, always know—of everything I could have chosen, of all the things I could have done, I wanted you and you alone. And for that you will always remain in my heart."
"Until death do us part," Coricopat said gently.
The softest of smiles flitted across Bomba's lips. She squeezed his paw, "Until death do us part."
~*~
"You should not have told her that."
Tantomile and Coricopat were alone again, seated side by side as usual. Demeter had taken a walk with Cassandra; Bombalurina had retired to the Harem once more.
"Why must you be such an active participant in my life?" Coricopat asked his sister as he stared across the yard in disinterest.
"I am part of you," Tantomile reminded him.
"Yes, but you are not all of me—there are parts of my life which do not concern you."
A silence followed. Tantomile did not seem affected by her brother's words.
"Why won't you let Demeter tell Bombalurina about Grizabella's murder?" Coricopat spoke again.
"Because," Tanto said simply.
"That is not an answer."
The black and white queen gave a heavy sigh, "It would ruin our plans. We have already come so far—a thing like this could jeopardize everything."
"You and your plans," Coricopat turned away in disgust. "When will you give up?"
"When I am at peace," Tanto replied.
"Then you will be dead."
"I have never made a distinction between the two," she replied smoothly, flicking her tail with an air of carelessness. "Besides, I think it would be quite interesting to die."
"Well, you shall have your wish soon enough if you continue these games and intrigues," Cori assured her. "Curiosity killed the cat."
"Stupidity killed the cat," Tanto corrected him. "Curiosity was framed."
"You will not die of stupidity," Corico retorted. "Treachery will be your executioner—these machinations against the Jellicle will not end well."
"That's what you think," Tantomile gave a smug smile. "But I assure you, dear brother--when all is said and done, we shall be victorious."
*Author's Note: So, I usually don't do this, but I am asking everyone to vote in my poll "Who do you think is the devil referred to in 'Dance with the Devil'?" You can find the poll on my profile--so vote! (My true motive is to see if I am doing a good job of keeping the truth from you, which I most certainly hope I am...)
