Somecat was poking him repeatedly in the nose. Poke, poke, poke…

"Gettoff," mumbled MacVitie.

"Maybe if you open your eyes first," answered a saucy young voice—one he didn't seem to recognize.

MacVitie's eyes snapped open. "What—who—what are you doing," he sputtered, confused as to where he was. The face of the tomkitten in front of him did not do much to clarify matters.

"So you've forgot me already," sniffed the kit. "Figures."

The faces of the Jellicle kittens rolled through his mind. "Tumble…" Slowly, MacVitie sat up, seeing the bars of his cage and remembering where he was. "What in Heaviside are you doing here?"

"Catnip," the kit rolled his eyes, "I'm Carbuckety, thickhead!"

"What—Carb—but you couldn't even talk last time I saw you…"

"Who says I couldn't? Didn't, maybe, because it would've blown my cover!"

"Cover? What are you talking about? And what are you doing here?" Mack repeated, that last coming out in a hiss as he lowered his voice. "However you got in here, get back to where you came from! D'you think we saved you from this place just so you could come racing back and get yourself kitnapped again? Don't you know it's dangerous—?"

"'Course I know it's dangerous. I know more about the dangers than you, probably. But never mind that, there's no time. Look, I'm just here to tell you today's the day. Be ready."

"Ready for what? What day? No one's told me any—hey!" Carbuckety was already sneaking back out of the den. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Whatever you're told," Buck hissed over his shoulder before disappearing from view.

"Catnip," MacVitie muttered. Somehow Carbuckety must have wandered off on his own and thought he was going to play hero or something. There was no way he was getting out of here without being caught… Do as you're told? What was that supposed to mean, anyway? And…what was "today"?

He glanced towards the den door. He couldn't tell what time of day it was, but it was definitely light outside—which meant he wouldn't be getting out for at least a few more hours. But…where was TB? Not once since this latest "stay" in Hench territory had he found himself unguarded. Of course, it could be that till now he'd always slept through the guards' shift-changes… Was there even a guard outside now? How had Carbuckety got past…?

It dawned on him that this must be something to do with Quaxo's plan. Except he didn't know the plan. Was he meant to have heard something? Who was meant to be giving him instructions? If Quaxo or one of the Twins, they were doing a poor job of it. Maybe they'd tried (and failed) to contact him mentally. "Bad connection," Mack muttered irritably, thinking of a phrase Tugger liked to use when he didn't feel like listening to whatever you were saying. Something to do with humans and a thing they had called "telegraphs" or "phonograms" or something…

"Right, Napkit, up an' at'em!"

MacVitie looked up, startled, to see TB reaching down to undo the bolt on the cage. "Since when am I allowed outside during the day?"

"I take it ye've forgot what day it is, then?"

"How should I know, stuck in here? Well, what day is it—your birthday? Excuse me forgetting. Happy returns."

"No more o'yer cheek. You've a job to do, an' you'd best mind what she says or things may not go so well for you or yer little friends."

"I haven't got friends, remember?"

"We'll see." TB jerked his head to indicate that MacVitie should follow, then headed out of the den.

Outside, Mack blinked incessantly, his eyes taking a while to adjust to the light after weeks of only being allowed outside at night. The first feline his eyes focused on was Griddlebone.

"Morning, sunshine," grinned the Persian queen. "Time to prove your loyalty. Welcome to the longest day of the year."

Longest day of the year? MacVitie racked his brains for the significance of Griddlebone's words. Longest day of the year?—Summer solstice—Midsummer's—Why, tonight then was the Jellicle Ball! Could it be so much time had passed already? MacVitie's heart seemed to leap up into his throat. He wasn't ready. What was he meant to do? What could he do? Neither the twins nor Quaxo had told him anything since they'd last seen one another! Where was Mungojerrie? Had they perhaps reached out to him?

"The time has come to prove where your true allegiance lies," Griddlebone repeated. "I trust you've had ample time to consider matters. Else things could go very badly for..."

"Where is he?" demanded a voice, cutting her off.

A stunned silence followed as all the felines in the vicinity turned to seek out the source of the interruption. No one ever dared to interrupt The Lady Griddlebone. Only Growltiger had ever appeared to stand on equal footing with her…and he was gone.

MacVitie, too, turned to look, and at first did not believe the evidence of his own senses. He saw Mungojerrie had arrived—unsurprising. No doubt he too had been summoned to 'prove his loyalty,' whatever that would entail. But with him, struggling to loose her arm from the tiger tom's grasp and repulsing his feeble attempts to reason with her, was Demeter. "Where is he?" she repeated, evidently beyond caring about any potential consequences to herself. "Where's Carbuckety? I know you've got him here! Do what you like with me, but let him go! He's nothing to you, is he? Why not just let him roam free, he's not done anything to you!"

"Miz Deme," Mungojerrie was pleading, albeit in a low voice, still terrified enough of Griddlebone that he didn't wish to draw attention to himself, "please jus' stop a bit an' let'er Ladyship speak. I don't want yew 'urt..."

"It's too late for that, Jerrie," Demeter answered in a surprisingly calmer tone. "We're here, aren't we? We're all going to be hurt, but Carbuckety doesn't have to be, not if we can..."

"I don't know any Carbuckety," Griddlebone yawned, feigning boredom. "If you mean that little baggage that was born too early and likely always to be a runt, no doubt he's at the bottom of the Thames long since."

He's with us. MacVitie looked around, startled, certain he'd heard Coricopat's voice. But no one was there. At last it occurred to him that Coricopat must have managed to contact him mentally. At least for a brief moment. Why then couldn't the twins have also informed him what to do next? Well, at least it seemed Carbuckety had made good his getaway and was safe. For now.

He tried to give Demeter a meaningful look, hoping she could somehow understand that her fears for the kit were unfounded—but she had her gaze fixed on Griddlebone, as if trying to discern whether the other queen were lying about Carbuckety's fate.

Griddlebone, however, did notice. "And just what are you on about, eh? Genghis."

The Siamese stepped forward, gazing scrutinizingly at MacVitie. What was this...?

"He's with us, eh?" the tom chuckled after a moment. "Who's with whom, Napoleon?"

Then MacVitie understood. Somehow, Gilbert possessed similar mental powers to the twins'. Perhaps that was why Mack had heard nothing…because Gilbert knew of their connection, and was interfering. Did that mean he also knew of their plans…? Save me from all these wacked felines... "Nothing," he answered, doing his utmost to keep his mind blank. "No one. I don't know."

Griddlebone shook her head with a sigh, meanwhile making her way over to Demeter. "I don't take kindly to liars." Deliberately, she placed her paw on Demeter's arm and drove a single claw into her flesh, eliciting a shriek from the gold queen.

Mungojerrie had crumpled uselessly to the floor, his paws over his ears.

MacVitie let out an enraged snarl and made as if to leap for Griddlebone, but was knocked down to the floor by TB, who placed a footpaw on his chest and gazed down at the ginger tom with a sneer. "And you don't have friends nor care anything for the pathetic Jellicles. Right."

"Demeter..." MacVitie choked. To his—and TB's—surprise, a moment later Demeter was kneeling at his side. Jerrie had of course lost his grip on her when he fell, Griddlebone had released her, and strangely no one else had tried to interfere.

"MacVitie," Demeter whispered, half holding out her paw but then drawing it back, whether from fear of TB or fear of him, MacVitie couldn't tell. The last time they had been together, she had scarcely been able to look at him.

"I'll get us out of this," he mumbled.

"Yes," Demeter nodded, then looked away. She didn't believe him.

"Thought the Lady made it clear she don't care for liars," TB chuckled.

"Leave us," Griddlebone snapped suddenly. "But," she added, "don't go far, Genghis. I may have need of you."

Almost instantly, the area cleared of all felines apart from Griddlebone, Mungojerrie, MacVitie, and Demeter.

"Get up," Griddlebone spat contemptuously, kicking Mungojerrie, who still lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Fear drove him to obey, and he stood shakily to his paws. Relieved of the pressure from TB's footpaw, MacVitie stood as well. He held out his paw to Demeter, and, after a moment's hesitation, she allowed him to help her up.

"Now that I've got your attention," Griddlebone continued, "I trust you are all prepared to listen." She glanced round at all of the younger felines, who nodded—as if they had any choice. "I trust you know also that your lives and the lives of your dear little cat companions depend on your carrying out my instructions to the very letter. On the other paw, if you do carry out my instructions, your lives will be safe and all will even go quite well with you. I'm a reasonable feline. I don't wish to keep up a useless quarrel between our two tribes. There is but one thing I require—or, say rather, one particular feline—and once you've handed him over, you may go your merry way and need never hear from me again."