AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank goodness for the weekend! No school for the next two days. Time to do actually important things. (cough)

Thanks again for all the reviews! They are the pearls to my Rumpleteazer. ...The stripes to my Munkustrap. ...The mane to my Tugger. Something like that.

Speaking of Tugger, I had no idea he had so many fangirls. XD He will make an appearance... next chapter. Though he gets his good share of mentions here! Hope the chapter as a whole isn't too confusing. SERIOUS business goes down. Enjoy!

The Pariah Heroic

CHAPTER 11

A Day Before.

It was the middle of the afternoon. Munkustrap, sitting in his den, gathered the paper piled in front of him. The threatening notes were increasing, and if the words contained any clue as to where they were coming from, then he'd overlooked them in the few dozen times he'd read the letters. There were cats out there who wanted to kill the Jellicles, and he had no idea who.

Demeter had retreated to their bed in another room, sleeping the day out to spend yet another night wandering alone among the junk piles. It was something the family had gotten used to- to be able to interact with the gold-and-black queen only under the moon.

In the other side of the den, which he was facing away from, was his Electra, who he'd appointed to look over Jellylorum's records to see if anything unnatural had come about over the past few days. For the last several minutes she'd been mostly silent, with nothing but the slow, light rustling of papers to remind Munkustrap she was still there.

"El," called the silver tabby, putting his arm behind him to reach for something. "Could you hand me the files for yesterday?"

She didn't answer.

"El?" he turned, and saw that she wasn't sorting through them, but had curled up fast asleep in the midst of the stacks of paper. "El," the tabby called out once again, sternly. The young queen jerked awake. She immediately sat up, rubbing at her eyes.

"Sorry," she muttered, looking back at the records.

"El, what's gotten into you?" Munkustrap frowned, turning away from the notes. "That's the fourth time you've fallen asleep over your work."

"I said sorry," replied Electra, still facing the corner with papers.

"El, look at me," the tabby commanded, alarmed. When his daughter finally did, he stood up. "Why are you always falling asleep at this time of the day?"

"I don't know," she said curtly, shifting her view to the floor. Munkustrap didn't like this; he pressed on.

"Don't speak with me like that. Is it because of your walks in the morning? Are you up too early for them?"

"Dad," Electra looked up at him, seeming anxious. "You can't forbid my walks! I love going on my walks."

Munkustrap sighed, running his claws through the fur on his head. "I thought we agreed your walks were to let you relax in the morning, not to become the highlight of your day."

"You still can't take them!" answered his daughter, sharply.

"Electra," he said her full first name to draw attention to her rudeness. She stared up at him angrily, her lips pressed tight together. Munkustrap paused, and realized she was looking at him with hate for possibly the first time in her life. The tabby breathed, rubbing his forehead. "El, you're overreacting. This is distracting you from everything. For the time being, you can't go past the Junkyard fence without my permission."

"Why?" the young queen cried out, scrambling quickly to her feet. She kicked down one of the stacks of paper behind her in the process, and its files scattered entirely onto the floor of the den.

"Electra! Calm down! And how can I trust you to do anything if I don't even know what you're doing?"

"Why can't you trust me?" Electra asked. "You don't trust anyone! You can't trust anyone who isn't a shining dazzling hero who always saves the day. You can't trust anyone but you."

Munkustrap cringed at how she spat out that last word. He stared her, trying his best to mask his hurt. "What are you doing on those walks that's got you so fervent about them?"

Electra looked away.

"You're not… meeting with someone, are you?"

"No," she said bitingly. And before Munkustrap could step forward to ask her any further, the rust-colored queen dashed off to her own room in their den, knocking over another stack of once neatly arranged files. He figured that she'd inherited his outer pride, and she did not want him to see her cry.

Sighing, the Protector returned to the piles of paper in front of him. Then again, what did he know about his own daughter?

"Teaze, wake up. Wake up!"

The black-and-orange tom shook his partner awake. She scowled, her eyes glued shut, and she buried her face into the cushion of the mats. Mungojerrie couldn't wait for her to wake up on her own. He'd spent the last hour roaming the Junkyard, eavesdropping on how the Jellicles thought of the two of them. What he'd heard, accompanied with what Munkustrap had told him that morning, had kept him completely awake.

"Teaze!" Mungojerrie shook her, and the queen finally gave in as she moved from her curled position to stretch languidly on her bed.

"What do ya want?" asked Rumpleteazer, rubbing her eyes. Mungojerrie debated mentally whether to ask her first about the report, or to go ahead with the big news.

"Um, which do ya want first, the askin' or the tellin'?" he said.

"…Which'll make me do less?"

"The tellin'."

"Okay, that," she shrugged, sleepily scratching her head.

Mungojerrie grinned widely, and took her arms to help her in a sitting-up position. "I was walking around after you left with the messenger, and I bumped into Munkustrap."

Rumpleteazer raised an eyebrow. "What did he do?"

"He told me the best thing ever."

Rumpleteazer scooted closer, her interest recovered. "How's it the best, then?"

"Because it gives us more time to ask around the tribe, and it gets us closer to them," answered Mungojerrie eagerly.

The calico queen bit her lip, looking unsure. "What'd he tell you?"

"We're stayin' here till the Jellicle Ball, so now we can get more information for Macavity!"

Suddenly Rumpleteazer's eyes widened. They began to shift around, looking anywhere but at Mungojerrie.

"Not only that," Mungojerrie continued, excited. "You know what the Jells are saying? They're saying they want you to dance the Coming of Age during the Ball. You'll be dancin', Teaze! Fancy that!"

Rumpleteazer's gaze switched to Mungojerrie's invention on her arm. She began to pull nervously at the yarn strings that tied her black fridge magnet to her palm.

"Do you know what that means?" asked Mungojerrie, tipping his partner's chin up to gaze straight at him.

The young calico queen, her blue eyes somewhat less bright than usual, looked dimly up at her partner.

"It means…" she said. "…that we've got to go."

Munkustrap's ears flicked suddenly as he sensed someone enter his den. Instinctively he whipped around in a low growl, his claws out.

The tall queen at the entrance stared at him, her posture tense, and then sighed as she settled down.

"I suppose I had to get used to that," she said, putting down the satchel she had on her shoulder. Munkustrap returned to a regular stance, surprised.

"Bombalurina? I didn't think you'd be coming today."

"Good haul this morning at the docks. I brought Electra some of the extras from the other queens' catches."

Munkustrap wilted a little, feeling guilty. The last time he'd spoken with their daughter was yesterday, during their fight. "You'll have to find her on your own," the silver tabby shook his head. "She's not talking to me."

Bombalurina seemed concerned. She observed the state of the den, still a mess from yesterday. "By Everlasting Cat, look at all these papers. I figured a tribe leader like you would keep every nook of his life neat. What happened?"

"I… had an argument with Electra yesterday," Munkustrap admitted. "This is the result. She's got this sort of… sassiness growing in her."

For some reason, Bombalurina smirked at him. "She's taking after me."

Munkustrap rolled his eyes. "I guess that's why the two of us didn't work before."

"Is there any way I can help? With Lectra?" asked Bombalurina, ignoring his comment.

Sighing, Munkustrap turned back to neatening up the scattered files. "I don't really think so."

"I'm your friend."

"In a way."

"Still your friend," Bombalurina said firmly. The tall scarlet queen sauntered over to her ex-mate, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "If you need any help at all with Electra, please come to me if you need to. Under the Everlasting Cat we may not be mates, but we still are parents."

"Even if you have Tugger."

"Even if you have Demeter," the scarlet queen frowned. "You're being awfully… irritable."

"Really?" Munkustrap asked, sarcastically. Still, he realized she was right. He kept his view locked on the files.

"You're snapping at me like I have no reason in my head," Bombalurina smiled. "If I didn't know any better, I wouldn't say Electra was taking after me. I think she's taking after you."

Munkustrap turned around to stare at her, stunned at her remark. "After me?"

Bombalurina laughed lightly. "Well, don't act so surprised about it. I've spent my time around our Electra, too. She's exactly like you. Stubborn, and daring, and maybe a little bit vain. That's Munkustrap."

"I suppose it'll take me time to see it," he leaned against the wall as he folded his arms. "And I'm not vain."

The red queen smiled sweetly. "Tell that to our half-year of marriage. You looked in mirrors more than I did. In fact, you looked in mirrors more than you looked at me. You vain, Munkus. Incredibly, secretly vain."

The Protector, exasperated, put a hand to his face."I guess I can see why we didn't stay together very well."

"Me too," Bombalurina smirked. She leaned slightly to the right, as if trying to peer at Demeter who was sleeping in next room over. "She sleeps most of the day, doesn't she? That's why I never see her."

Munkustrap nodded. "She prefers the night. Sometimes she comes with me on night patrol, just so we have time to talk to each other."

"She's beautiful, Munkus."

"I know."

There was a long, silent pause.

Munkustrap's eyebrows furrowed. "You're not expecting me to say the same for Tugger, are you?"

"You don't have to," Bombalurina laughed melodiously, and patted her ex-mate warmly on his shoulder. "Though that tom really is quite amazing. Talk to Electra soon. She loves you more than she loves me."

The scarlet queen twirled around for a graceful exit from the den, and once again Munkustrap was reminded of how large and chaotically put together his whole family was.

Mungojerrie stared at Rumpleteazer, shocked. "What do ya mean, we've got to go?"

Rumpleteazer looked down. "We've got to leave the Junkyard."

"Leave the Junkyard!" Mungojerrie threw his hands up. "Why in blimes? Teaze, we got the Jellicles trusting us good! And we have a mission with Macavity! Why would we leave the Junkyard?"

The calico queen closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Mungo… we've got to leave the Junkyard."

"Tell me why first, Teaze," he said stubbornly.

She stared up at him sorrowfully, her mouth slightly open as if she were trying to force out her reason. Mungojerrie couldn't help but feel upset.

"Teaze," he said, taking her by the shoulders. "Tell me why we've got to leave the Junkyard."

"Why's it bother you so much, anyway?" she suddenly snapped, pushing him away as rough as possible.

"What are you talking about?" Mungojerrie asked, frustrated. "Teaze, we've got a mission! We can't just leave the Jellicles where we are now!"

"Mungo, we've gone too far," Rumpleteazer cried. "There's no risk! We'll up and leave! The Jells won't notice, and the boss won't care. He'll… he'll have other plans. Let's just leave!"

"No," snapped the black-and-orange tom. "Damn, Teaze, we've got too much here! We've got too close to them!"

Rumpleteazer suddenly stood up, glaring at him. She curled her hands into tight fists. "You're the one who's got too close. You're the one talkin' and laughin' with them toms and being friends and all with them, and Bast, Jerrie, I think you forgot what we're here for!"

"Why do we have to leave?" Mungojerrie snarled, standing up. At his height the calico tom was much taller than her, but their glares held an equal power. After a long moment, Rumpleteazer looked away.

"I'm leaving in seven days," she said darkly. "And I don't care if you come with me or not, Mungo."

Before Mungojerrie could stop her, the calico queen darted out through the den exit, breathing hard.

Dreams are full of stars and skies colored with bright orange. Like the flyers and posters of humans.

Dreams are a safe place. You can never be harmed, and you may do whatever you want to do without consequence.

I wonder what you dream about, Kitten, while you sleep.

Three days passed.

Three days passed since he had last talked to Rumpleteazer, and Mungojerrie was miserable.

At night, returning to their den, she would be strangely absent, as if she'd found some other place to sleep. At night, Mungojerrie would curl up alone in his bed, slightly fearing that she'd already run away. The sun would dawn to reassure him that she was still around.

Every now and then, he'd caught glimpses of her, walking idly with the young queens, or jumping about the mountains of garbage. Her expression would be curiously blank; else her eyes would be lowered as if unwilling to talk to anybody. Sometimes Mungojerrie wondered if she was serious about leaving the Junkyard with or without him.

It occurred to Mungojerrie that Rumpleteazer was the best friend he had in the world. More than Tumblebrutus, who was always fun to have around and was a complete riot at the dullest of hours. More than Electra, a queen so moody and stubborn yet intelligent and fantastic – a queen he had not seen at all in the past few days for some strange reason. More than Macavity, who he greatly admired and, it seemed, who greatly admired him.

(It then occurred to Mungojerrie that for the longest time, he hadn't called Macavity "the hero".)

It was impossible to imagine carrying life out in the Junkyard without Rumpleteazer. Jumping onto the giant tire by the cement pipe, the calico resolved to gather as much information as possible in the next four days, so that he could complete the mission and still go with her after that.

He looked forlornly at his right palm where the metal tab, still gleaming yet thoroughly beaten, was tied. If she just told me why she wanted to leave...

Sometimes, triple lives weren't worth it.

"Mungojerrie," a young, smooth voice called out. He turned at the sound of his name, seeing a black-and-white cat standing at the edge.

"Oh. Hey, Misto."

The conjurer nodded, and wordlessly he sat beside the black-and-orange tom, looking out towards the center of the Yard.

"You've been rather down," Mistoffelees said simply.

"Well, yeah. Teaze ain't talking to me," replied Mungojerrie gloomily, resting his chin on his knees. "We had a sort of fight."

"But the two of you always fight."

"I reckon this one was worse," the calico raked his claws through the fur on his head. "She doesn't even come back to the den at night."

"That's not entirely what I meant," the black tom shrugged. "The two of you always fight. But the two of you always make up. One way or another, this argument will die down; whatever in Heaviside it's about."

"I hope it'll die down," Mungojerrie sighed.

"You've got plenty of time," Mistoffelees put a friendly hand on the calico's shoulder. "I heard about the extension. You've got until the Jellicle Ball, and even then I'm sure we'll accept you permanently, anyway. Everyone loves you two."

"Everyone?" asked Mungojerrie, doubtfully. "Even… Munkustrap?"

Mistoffelees let out a loud laugh. "You're afraid of him, aren't you?"

"Not entirely," the tom answered, embarrassed.

"Don't worry, a good lot of us are," the conjurer cat nodded sympathetically. "Whenever Munkustrap looks our way, Tumblebrutus pretends he hasn't been swearing noisily. Pouncival stops trying to yank his sister's fur. And so on. What can I say? Munkustrap is Munkustrap."

Mungojerrie grimaced slightly. "Where does he get it all?"

"If we're talking about his huge savior complex, that's all him. If we're talking about his leadership skills, I suppose it's from his Line."

"His… Line?" Mungojerrie looked up to stare at him, puzzled. "What are ya talking about?"

"You know," Mistoffelees shrugged. "His Line."

"…Misto, that didn't explain anything."

"Oh, so you're not familiar…?"

"Would I be askin' if I was familiar?" asked Mungojerrie, annoyed.

"Alright, calm down, calm down," laughed Mistoffelees. "It's an awfully long story."

"Like you said, I've got until the Jellicle Ball."

"Right. Well, you probably understand that a Jellicle's Line is his inheritance. Traits from a parent to their kitten. Jellylorum's line is the Scribe Line. She's skilled at writing, at being eloquent. It may not be obvious, but her kits Pounce and Etcetera have those gifts, too."

Mungojerrie's ears flicked back and forth. He was surprised he'd never heard of Lines before. "Keep going."

"Well..." Mistoffelees frowned, as if trying to think. "Have you met the twins? Coricopat and Tantomile. They're of the Mystic Line. That's a gift of heightened sense in body and mind. And then there's Jennyanydots, who is of the Gumbie Line. She's incredibly resourceful, as you might have noticed. She can make something out of anything. Rum Tum Tugger, well, I don't really want to know what his Line holds."

"And how about Munkustrap?"

"The Leader Line. He's got all the responsibility and bravery Old Deuteronomy has. And I suppose his kit Electra has it too."

"Wait a minute," Mungojerrie said suddenly, trying hard to absorb all this new information. "Old Deuteronomy… has the power to open up the Heaviside Layer. Does that mean… Munkustrap has it too?"

Mistoffelees smiled knowingly. "That's another matter. That's magic. Magic is passed down in an entirely different way from regular Line traits."

"It's what the Jellicles are known for," Mungojerrie mused aloud. "How'd ya get yours?"

"Think of magic as tangible matter. It occupies a space. In the case of a Line, it occupies one's blood. My father, Mephistopheles, died a long time ago, so I inherited his magic as a kitten since I had his blood."

"So… magic only gets inherited when the bloke who has it dies?"

"Exactly," Mistoffelees grinned. "When its holder dies, magic needs a space to occupy, so it occupies the blood that's most similar. My father passed away; I earned his powers. In the same way, while Munkustrap has his father's traits in terms of personality, he'll only ever get the power of opening Heaviside once Old Deuteronomy passes."

Mungojerrie froze. He opened his mouth to reply, but it took several stammers to force anything out from his voice. "Misto… the magic of a Line is only passed when the holder dies, yeah?"

Mistoffelees looked at him strangely, and nodded. "Yes, that's what I said."

"A-and it's only passed to the same blood?"

"Yes, Mungo… is there something confusing?"

"If… if a holder of magic dies, it's just his eldest kit that gets the magic?"

"Yes. Magic can only ever transfer to one cat at a time."

"If that cat dies, who gets the magic then? His kit, or his younger sibling?"

The conjurer thought about this, his eyebrows furrowing. "Well, I suppose his sibling would get it, since his blood is more similar to their parent's. So, if a Jellicle with magic dies, his younger sibling will inherit it."

Mungojerrie suddenly stood up, utterly dazed. Mistoffelees got up from his sitting position, concerned.

"Mungo, is there anything wrong?"

"Nothin'," the black-and-orange tom said.

"Was it something I said? I didn't say anything weird, did I? Sometimes I do that."

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Mungojerrie groaned.

Mistoffelees stood up to follow, his hand outstretched. "Do you need to see Jenny or-"

"No," Mungojerrie said quickly.

He stumbled down the steps from the tire, trying to run off to some secluded spot where he could catch his breath and keep his mind from spinning out of control.

Bast. The only way Macavity could ever earn the power of opening the Heaviside Layer was to kill Munkustrap.