"I wish you'd tried harder to make him believe it."

"An' I wish y'd stop sayin' that when it does no good!"

"Right. Sorry."

Quaxo and Rumpelteazer sat side by side, to all appearances sharing a friendly snack consisting of kitten chow, very possibly with some dogfood mixed in, topped off with a few sausages and bits of bacon some humans had thrown out. It was quite a rare treat really, apart from the dogfood, if they'd been in a mood to appreciate it. More accurately, what they were really sharing was a grumbling spat, only picking at their food occasionally and otherwise scarcely remembering its existence. (Indeed, completely unobserved by both the 'magician' and the 'master thief,' every so often a tiny paw reached out from behind the junkpile and snatched a piece of food off the makeshift tray.) Both were burdened with rather more stress than is good for a young cat (or any cat of any age, come to that), and as such, their attempts at discussing the problem calmly weren't getting very far. They kept snapping at each other, apologizing, and then snapping again a few sentences later.

"We sh'ld let Munk in on the plan," Teazer suggested for the umpteenth time.

"I've told you," sighed Quaxo, "that it won't work if he knows. He shouldn't even have as much hope as he does have that his brother might come back; he should be resigned to the fact that Mack's gone for good…"

"Didja really think that'ud happen?"

"No," the black tom admitted, "but it was worth a go. Would've made things much simpler."

"Well, it didn't work. Tell the truf', I fink if Munk really b'lieved Mack meant never t'return, 'e'd go after'im an' try t'persuade 'im back, mos' likely gettin'imself kilt in the process an' ruinin' the'ole plan anyway. So uncertainty migh' even be bettah for'im. So now wot? 'Ave yew'n Cori'n'Tanto been able to, er… 'spy' on…y'know, them, at all, an' figger out 'ow fings'r goin'?"

Quaxo shook his head glumly.

"Yew 'aven't seen er heard anyfin'?"

"No, I mean it's, erm…going…"

"It's goin' terrible an' we're all doomed, just say it."

"No, no, I wouldn't say the situation's quite that dire! Only I had hoped Mack would have gained himself a bit more…freedom by now and…well, managed to gain Griddle's trust."

"I coulda toldja 'e wouldn't! Like that'ud ever 'appen! Mebbe y've not noticed, but Mack's just about the world's worst criminal! Yew expected 'im t'be a nat'ral?"

Quaxo shrugged his shoulders. "It was the only future we saw where the Junkyard is saved."

"Jus' a minute there," Teazer protested, holding up her paws in exasperation. "Future? I thought yew an' Cori' an' Tant' c'ld only read thoughts'n'feelin's an' the like, an' make guesses about the future. Yew said nuffin' abou' actually seein'…"

"You're right," Quaxo sighed, "that wording's inaccurate. The humans around town watch quite a bit of television, and sometimes I seem to pick up very strange phrases out of nowhere. But what I mean is, Griddlebone wants Mack involved in her plan. She wants to turn the Jellicles against each other, to get to us—most particularly, to get Bella and Deuteronomy's sons—where it'll most hurt. Her forcing Mack to start a fire in Tugger's home was just a taste of that. I thought that, in order for Mack to be involved in her plan, he'd have to have at least partially gained her trust. But maybe that's not it at all. Maybe she'll expect him to betray her, and be ready to harm his family—or even everyone in the 'yard—as soon as he does. Or set him up so that he has no choice but to betray her—or even manage things so he's the one who inadvertently does the harming, as with the fire..."

"Maybe? Y'don't…know?"

"I know there are multiple awful things she'd like to do, it's just a matter of which one."

"Well, we c'n rule out 'harm ev'ry'un in the yard at once.' Who c'ld kill a load o' cats all at once? Except some sorta magical mystical type like you?" She put a paw over her mouth, glancing sideways at Quaxo. "Oi…oi didn' mean…"

"It's true, if I ever chose to use my powers for evil I imagine I could inflict a lot of damage. That's why I'm so hesitant to try anything with that blue lightning stuff, much as Sillabub keeps begging for a show…But there are natural ways too, Teaz. I'm surprised—"

"Yer never surprised."

"Figure of speech. Anyway, I'm not constantly in your head or anyone else's! With all the time you've spent in humans' houses and stores—thieving and such—haven't you heard of things like explosives? Dynamite?"

"Never wasted time lookin' aroun' much, 'cept fer wot we came there t'fetch," Teazer shrugged. "We wos expected t'get in an' out as quick as ever we could, an' if 't'weren't quick enough… Well, smash'n'grab, that wos allus the ticket. An' dy…dino-might wos never on our list o' supplies. If'n it's somefin' that dangerous, mebbe Lady Moth—Gr—the Persian didn't fancy me'n'Jerrie takin' charge o'such fings." She paused, nibbling fretfully at her lower lip, considering whether to ask, afraid of the answer. "So…so wot is… dino-might?"

"I've never actually seen it in action…"

"But you've some idear of what it does. Tell me."

"Well, it seems you tie a load of sticks together—they kind of look like candles—connect a long string to them, set fire to the string, run away as fast as you can. When the fire gets to the sticks, they—well—explode."

"Explode?"

"Like a forest fire, but worse. Boom. Fire and broken parts everywhere. And any living thing that gets too close at the time of the explosion…well, burns."

Teazer shivered. "Surely they's nuffin' like that 'round 'ere!"

"Why d'you say that?"

"Well—b'cos'… If folk around'ere wan'ed to explode fings, why've we never seen anyfin' explodin' nearby? An' if they don't wanna explode fings, why'ud any'un bother tryin' t'sell the stuff?"

Quaxo shrugged his shoulders. "Well, perhaps they smuggled it, then. Didn't you say Grid was in league with these Siamese blokes who got rid of Growltiger for her? Maybe they've brought plentiful supplies with them. Maybe she's been planning this for ages. In any case, I feel certain she has something up her sleeve that she can rig up, maybe even rat poison in the food or something, to get rid of a bunch of felines at once—or humans, for that matter… And you know how Old D is about humans…"

"This's jus' awful," Teazer fretted.

"It is awful," Quaxo agreed, "but not hopeless. If I practice enough, perhaps I can make her disappear from wherever she is, even we can't get her to the junkyard…"

Teazer felt considerably less confident in his abilities than she had a moment ago. "Y'fink ya can? Who's been 'elpin' yew rehearse, anyway?"

"Admetus."

Teazer raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"I've not told him what it's for, of course," Quaxo added, "except that it's a trick for the Ball, which is true enough."

"Quax'…where does'e…where d'fings…actually go… when y'disappears 'em?"

"I'm not entirely certain, but I think they go where I imagine for them—I always try to imagine someplace nice: which, by the by, isn't so easy in a great polluted city like this. But once I can think of places outside the city—because, of course, it has to be a real place—I've got many more nice places to choose from. I've tried asking Adme what he sees when I send him elsewhere, but he's not very forthcoming." He chuckled, but couldn't hide his look of concern. "He really is in a bad way," he confided. "Sometimes it takes me a bit longer than I'd like to bring him back, and when I finally do, he makes some remark implying that he wouldn't care if he never got back. And I get the feeling that it's not so much because he enjoyed wherever it was that I sent him, as because he'd prefer not to be…anywhere at all."

Teazer gasped. "Y'mean 'e's still no better after wot'appen'd… Bu' that's awful," she found herself saying again. "Oi don' understand why…why Adme's takin' it all to'eart so…or even just wot 'e's takin' so much to'eart…"

Quaxo shook his head. "He feels betrayed."

"But I tried t'explain," Teazer objected, "that Vitie'ad no choice…"

"Not just about the fire," Quaxo interrupted, "it goes back long before that. You see, they—Admetus and Plato—were found as tiny kits, and the junkyard is the only home they've known. Although Jenny mainly raised them, they early on attached themselves to MacVitie and became more or less his little shadows. Followed him everywhere. He sometimes pretended to be annoyed by it, but you could tell he liked them—especially by how bent out of shape he'd get when any little thing happened to them. Well, one night he off and disappears—it was to save his mother from the henchcats, which turned into a long captivity, but they didn't understand that at the time. And no matter how much you or he or anyone else tries to explain, from Adme's perspective, all Mack has done for ages is disappear, come back and wreak havoc, and disappear again. He long ago concluded (whether he realized it or not) that Mack's unreliable. Now he's near to believing that Mack has changed sides, or perhaps was in league with the henches all along."

"Which would suit yew jus' fine," Teazer pointed out, unable to conceal the bitterness creeping into her tone.

Quaxo looked stricken. "Teazer, it's not that I want…"

"Righ', righ', y' don' really want folk believin' such arful fings about Mack, but it's needful fer the plan t'work." She sniffed. "'Cept it don't seem t'be workin' whether er no."

"Teazer…"

"Well, tell me straight, then! Is this plan o'yers still gonna work, or isn't it? An' if no, what'll we do instead? Yew 'ave got another plan?"

"It's…not going quite as I expected so far," Quaxo proceeded cautiously, "but…for all I can see, Griddle will still be where she needs to be at the proper time…"

"Y'mean fer…" Teazer glanced around and lowered her voice. "Fer yew t'…t'disappear her?"

Quaxo nodded.

"Where…Where'll yew send'er?"

"I'll…try to send her…someplace nice…but far, far from here where she can't do anymore harm. Some island, perhaps."

"Wot…wot's an Eye Land?"

"A bit of land in the middle of the ocean. Plenty of food and water, but no people for her to harm and no easy way to get back, unless she can swim for miles—or has hidden wings."

Teazer's eyes narrowed, and she didn't laugh at his small joke. "An' Vitie? An' Jerrie? Where'll they be by then?"

"That's…less certain."

"What d'yew mean? 'Less certain' ain' good enough! Wot's the good'f any o' this plannin' if sommat 'appens t'them? Quax—"

"I didn't say anything was going to happen to them," Quaxo cut in quickly. "Just that…"

"Jus' that y've no idear whether it will er not, which is jus' as bad."

"Listen. As long as they've the potential to be of any use to her, the Lady'll keep them alive. Am I right?"

Teazer nodded sullenly.

"Well, then," Quaxo continued, "she's certainly not going to get rid of them before she's carried out—attempted to carry out, but been stopped—her grand plan. She'll either force them to take part in it directly, or, if she still doesn't trust them, she'll simply hold onto them as some sort of hostages—use them to manipulate us, or vice versa. But all this will go away once I get rid of her. And if I can rightly figure out where she'll be, and get near enough in time…" He shrugged. "There goes Mack and Jerrie's chief captor. Oh, I know," he added, as Teazer opened her mouth to object, "there're still the henches. But once she's gone, how difficult can they be? The henches rely too heavily on her to carry out the plan on their own, at least right away."

"Ay…once she's…gone," Teazer echoed with a shudder. "But… Oi! Stoppit righ' there!" The tiny paw had come groping at the tray of food again, and this time its owner hadn't been quite quick enough. Teazer seized the paw and pulled the rest of whoever-it-was out from behind the junkpile. "Buck'tee," she exclaimed when she caught sight of the scowling face, "jus' wotchew fink yer doin'?"

"Listenin' to you of course," Carbuckety shrugged shamelessly, "an' just tryin' to have a little snack! Why stop me? You two weren't eating it."

"B'cause, Buck', 'tis bad manners t'steal an' scoff vittles off'n some'un else's plate, no mattah…"

"Ha, that's a funny! Teazy the Thief talkin' about not stealin' offa someone's plate!" chortled the patched kitten.

"Now, Bucky…"

"Oh, let him have it," sighed Quaxo. "He's right; we're not eating it." Awaiting no further invitation, Carbuckety commenced stuffing his face with the remainder of the vittles. "Now," Quaxo went on, sending Teazer a meaningful look, "while you're here, Carbuckety, why not explain what you were doing listening in and just how much you heard?"

"'Nuff to know that you're in big trouble," mumbled the kit around a mouthful of sausage, not bothering to finish chewing and swallowing first.

"I see," nodded Quaxo, "and how about why you were listening?"

"'Cause I'm a spy, of course," Carbuckety rolled his eyes as if it should have been obvious.

"That so? First I've heard of any such thing."

Carbuckety grinned triumphantly. "That means I'm a good spy."

"And tell me, Carbuckety, just how long have you been a spy?"

"Since forever."

"You mean even before you came to live here?" Quaxo asked, though in truth not expecting the kit to remember anything before the Junkyard. Or perhaps hoping he didn't.

"Oh, long before that," Carbuckety scoffed. "I been spyin' on devil daddy since I was just a baby."

"Devil daddy…?" Teazer broke in, looking alarmed. Quaxo shot her another warning glance, trying to convey that panicking now might lose them the chance at procuring some valuable information—even if not entirely accurate. Quaxo certainly didn't see any indication that Carbuckety was lying, but kittens could easily get confused. Or else they could be completely spot-on without even realizing it. One never knew with kittens. Teazer glared right back at Quaxo, more concerned at the moment for the kit's wellbeing than for information, but she held her tongue for now. See what more Bucky would say.

"And just who's 'devil daddy'?" Quaxo resumed.

"Don't know anything, do you?" Carbuckety rolled his eyes, evidently his favorite gesture at the moment. "How d'you expect to get anything done that way?"

Quaxo's ears flattened ever so slightly in annoyance. "Right, then, since we don't seem to know anything, and you seem to know everything, you'll have to help us out, won't you?"

"Don't have to do nothin'," Bucky muttered rebelliously. He folded his arms and stuck out his chin smugly. Quaxo waited, knowing that bit was for show and if the kit really did know anything, he wouldn't be able to resist demonstrating his superior knowledge. "Devil daddy's TB," Carbuckety continued at last.

Quaxo frowned, trying to think who this might be.

"Tumblebrutus," Teazer supplied, "orften goes by TB."

"Tumblebrutus?" Quaxo echoed, becoming disappointed. Carbuckety must only be playing after all. "Bucky, why would you spy on one of your own friends? And call him a name like…devil daddy?"

"Don't be so thick," sighed Carbuckety, "I don't mean that Tumble."

"But…"

"There's an 'ench called Tumble," Teazer explained. "A very important 'ench, actually." The fact that Quaxo didn't seem to already know about TB caused Teazer alarm. Could the twins, or Quaxo, or both…could they not "see" TB for some reason?

But now realization seemed to register on Quaxo's features, and he nodded. "I see. That Tumble. Cori and Tanto and I have had glimpses of him, he's one of the chief guards…" But he stopped short of actually mentioning Mack's name, not wanting to give too much away until he actually knew how much Carbuckety had heard. "So…" He was about to move on in the conversation, but Bucky interrupted him and continued in the same vein.

"Our Tumble's named after TB," he commented, running his paw along the platter for any remnants.

"That's true," Teazer agreed gently, wondering just how much the kit knew. "But see, it's complica'ed, Bucky. ''Lonza didn't say in th' ware'ouse long 'nuff t'know which tom was TB, nor just'ow bad'e was. Act'lly…per'aps 'e didn't know TB was an'ench at all…an' so didn't fink it'd be a bad name t'give 'is kit. Y'needn't 'old it against yer friend, ain't'is fault."

"I don't," Carbuckety shrugged. "Can't help it, can he. Like I can't help that TB's my dad. Dunno who my mum is, can't remember, but I don't care, s'not the point…"

"Bucky," Quaxo interrupted, "who's been telling you such a fib?" Now it was Rumpelteazer's turn to shoot Quaxo a warning look. The tuxedo tom really was simple sometimes, wasn't he? She already more than half-believed Carbuckety; most likely his father was someone among the henchcats, and chances were it was TB. Could Quaxo not sense any of this? It was alarming…

"It's not a fib," Bucky returned angrily, "but if you won't believe me, maybe Mister Munk will…"

"Wait, Buck'," Teazer seized his paw as he turned to leave, "we do believe'ee, it's just such a surprise 'cause we didn' know!"

"But how do you know?" asked Quaxo.

"I heard it," said the kit shortly, still miffed with them.

"From whom?"

"From Miss Bomba and Miss Deme. Who else?"

Quaxo's eyes widened. "Surely they wouldn't say such things to you…"

"Please," Carbuckety scoffed, "I don't mean they told me on purpose. Weren't you listening? Didn't I say I was the Greatest Spy Ever? They were telling each other, an' I just went right behind 'em where they couldn't see me an' heard the whole thing. They had no idea I was there," he added, grinning cheekily.

"An'," Teazer put in timidly, "an' wot else did they say?" Perhaps they had also mentioned his mother, whom Teazer was fairly well convinced was either Bomba or Demeter. It fitted in with how things ran in the warehouse, how the two queens had most likely been treated.

"Dunno," Bucky sniffed, "maybe I won't tell you, on second thoughts. Where's the use? You'll not believe me!"

"Bucky…" But the tomkit had already vaulted over the pile of junk and disappeared from view.