Demeter once told him, back when she first discovered his magic, that all magicians had a certain scent about them. Quaxo didn't know what this meant at the time - did he smell bad? Jelly held the nursery in a tight grip, making sure the kittens were properly washed before they went to bed every night.

He certainly didn't think there was anything wrong him in that regard, nobody had commented on his scent. Maybe Demeter was just sensitive to such things, more so than mother or Munkus.

Until now.

The cat that stood before him was practically r-a-d-i-a-t-i-n-g magic, the scent almost overwhelming.

There were whispers around the nursery of this cat who lingered so heavily in the minds of the older Jellicles. Of a great ginger beast who bathed in the blood of his enemies, who sharpened his claws with their bones, who moved like a snake as he waited for the kill.

Macavity, Macavity there's no one like Macavity...

Except that wasn't what he saw. What he saw was...well, a cat. He was thin, perhaps. And ginger. Not particularly tall, maybe only slightly above Munkus. Nor would Quaxo consider his coat dusty by any sense of the word. He was just...a cat. A cat whose eyes were redder than he would have liked and smelt of magic and masculine arrogance.

Still, this cat has killed before - no doubt whatever his intentions were tonight were not going to be rooted in any concern for the well-being of a sick almost-tomcat with powers he couldn't quite control yet.

Quaxo gulped, taking a step backwards.

("Wrong move.")

Oh good, Mistoffelees was still here. It gave him some comfort, if small, to know that he wasn't completely alone.

("You are alone.")

Shut up.

Another step back and Quaxo realized- too late of course - that he was, in fact, ill, something that must have slipped his mind for the briefest of seconds when he realized Macavity had somehow located him. His knee buckled and soon enough he became quite friendly with the ground. The pain in his chest flared, and he found himself coughing to the point where the fear of hacking up a l-u-n-g seemed like an all too real possibility.

"Well now," Macavity drawled from above him. "We can't have you dying on my watch, can we?"

Can we?

If he could run away, he would. If he could t-e-l-e-p-o-r-t, he would. If he could fight, he would. Unfortunately Quaxo was not a fighter, and the ten or so fouettés he was able to accomplish probably won't help him survive this encounter. There were sparks of some sort coming from Macavity's curled paw - the mystery cat reached down towards him and the balls of light jumped onto the smaller tom. Quaxo gasped, trying to scoot back but couldn't find the strength to do so.

This was it, wasn't it? This was how he was going to die. The strange little sparks moved like hungry mice trying to locate a hidden snack, zig-zagging around his fur before c-o-a-l-e-s-c-i-n-g around his chest and head.

Strange.

They didn't hurt, they just...tingled a bit.

Actually, they tingled a lot. Quaxo raised a paw to bat at them (they were sparkly, okay?) but they disappeared before he had the chance.

"Better?" Macavity asked, rising back onto two legs.

Better?

Quaxo looked up in confusion, drawing in a breath.

Oh.

He was able to breathe again, or at least breathe without feeling like his rib cage was being crushed.

"How did you do that?" he asked, trying not to allow his voice to waver. Quaxo made his way to his paws - slowly - he didn't want to a-g-g-r-a-v-a-t-e anything else on his body.

A look of amusement crossed the larger tom's face. "Magic is a force capable of many things, kitten. Healing is just one of them." He took a step forward and Quaxo flinched, pondering if he should just run while he was capable of doing so. His curiosity, however, wouldn't let him move.

"Of course," Macavity continued, eyes never leaving Quaxo's own, "the effects are only temporary. To permanently heal an ailment takes more power than I am currently in possession of."

Have I been able to heal myself this whole time?

...or Tugger?

Quaxo squeezed his eyes shut. Why was he only capable of destroying things...hurting things. Making everything and everyone around him worse off?

"Do you know who I am, kitten?"

"I'm not a ki-" Quaxo trailed off, clawing at his ear. "I mean...I'm almost a year now," he finally mumbled, averting his gaze. "And you are Macavity. I...I shouldn't be talking to you."

A smile tugged at the ginger tom's lips. He was nothing more than amused, a fact that made Quaxo more nervous than he wanted to let on.

"And why is that?"

Quaxo drew in another shaky breath. "You've...killed," he said softly. "And you've...you tried t-to take over the Jellicle tribe. You killed the last protector."

"Ah, yes. I am a killer, or so you've been told. Was it Munkustrap? I would think nothing less of his intentions."

There was an edge to his tone when the name 'Munkustrap' was uttered. Quaxo could see his claw flex on the ground, barely perceptible to the naked eye but still very much there. He took another step back.

"Still scared of me, kitten?"

Quaxo looked back up, hoping that he wasn't shaking - at least not visibly.

("You are.")

"What do you want?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "How did you find me?"

("Nice segue.")

Clearly Macavity thought the same. The mystery cat cocked an eyebrow at his inquiry. "You really know nothing," he said slowly, pacing the clearing as though Quaxo were a statue or piece of a-r-t to be gaped at. His tone didn't suggest anger - nor confusion - it could almost be considered smug, but in a subdued kind of way. "All this time and they've failed to teach you anything of merit. A waste."

"A waste of what?"

The smile grew larger. "Ah, kitten. Magic is to be handled with care. To be fed and taught and grown into the body of which it is being controlled. I can find you because magic senses other magic." He paused, claw flexing once more. "There is no place for you to hide, not with the magic that marks your every step."

Bullocks. I got lost not several weeks ago and you didn't find me then.

Maybe Macavity wasn't as all-powerful as everyone thought he was. Or maybe he was full of it.

("But you drained all of your power, remember?")

So he couldn't sense...

...oh...

He clawed his ear again.

"Tell me, kitten," Macavity said, shaking him from his reverie. "Do you know of the barrier surrounding the junkyard?"

Quaxo frowned. He knew what barrier Macavity was talking about. Of course, playing dumb might get more information out of him. "You mean the fence?"

The ginger tom's gaze lingered, a bit too long, perhaps. Quaxo got the sense that the cat he was talking to possessed a level of intelligence unlike anyone else in the junkyard. He could feel his heart beat that much faster.

"So it wasn't you who put it up," he responded, mostly to himself. "Interesting."

"I don't know what you're taking about."

"Oh, kitten. I think you do."

"I'm not a kitten!"

("Well...")

Shut up!

("Rude.")

Another breath. Quaxo almost forget how nice it was to be able to inhale without the accompanying pain. He also wondered how long Macavity's healing sparks would last.

"Is that why I can't t-e-l-e...I mean teleport back into the junkyard from the outside? Does it block magic from getting in?"

Quaxo knew he probably shouldn't be asking these questions, especially when asking them to the cat who would most benefit from taking down the barrier, but he wanted answers. He wanted to know more - about himself, about his magic, about how to control it.

("This is a bad idea.")

And about whatever the heck is going on with the voices in his head. Maybe he was losing it. The longer this night dragged on, the more likely that option seemed.

"It would seem to be that way, yes. Powerful magic indeed."

Macavity's smile was gone, eyes narrowed. Clearly the mystery of the barrier was bothering him as well. Quaxo shifted uncomfortably, noting every passing minute. If he was gone for too long, there would be no question that someone would notice. Or worse, Vicky would tell Jelly.

"You never..." Quaxo swallowed thickly, trying to calm his nerves. "You never answered my question. On...I mean...what you want with me."

He was breathing too fast now, wasn't he?

Macavity focused his gaze back on him, his eyes now a regular shade of brown. A moment passed in complete silence, and Quaxo could practically hear every beat of his heart. Why did Macavity's eyes look so familiar? The brown and the red - especially the red, he would see them in his dreams. They were always there, taunting him.

"Do you know where magic comes from, kitten?" Macavity instead asked. There was no smirk or frown, nothing in his voice that would give any indication of his mood or thoughts. Just an intense stare that felt sharp enough to chop him into two.

"I...I know I was born with it..."

"And that's it?"

"That's all...I mean, is there more?"

Was there? Was it something to do with old-mother and the before time? The things he can't quite remember but somehow must be connected to his magic.

("And the red eyes. Those are from the before-time as well.")

Yes. And those.

Macavity shook his head, the corners of his lips curled up again, just slightly. But this time he didn't look as much amused as he did annoyed.

"Walk with me, kitten," he said. Just off the tone of his voice it was clear he wasn't asking. It was a very clear demand and Quaxo was in no position to refuse.

("Maybe if you keep telling yourself that it'll end up being true.")

They walked through trees, bushes, and more trees. There didn't seem to be a destination in mind, it was more a means of keeping the blood pumping in the less than agreeable conditions outside.

"My name is Quaxo, by the way," he said timidly. "Not kitten."

Macavity grunted - a clear signal of disinterest. "The name isn't important."

"It is to me."

("You're getting braver.")

Quaxo found there to be a fine line between bravery and stupidity. But he had the sense that Macavity was not here to hurt him, if he was than he would most likely be dead already. His powers were not a threat to him in any way.

("Not yet, at least.")

"Did you know that magic used to be commonplace among cats?" Macavity asked, finally coming to a stop near a particularly appealing tree stump.

"What do you mean?"

"It was ubiquitous - everywhere."

"I know what u-b-i-q..." Quaxo fumbled. "I know was ubiquitous means."

He forgets sometimes, that spelling wasn't a normal thing, at least not out loud. Tugger and Munkus were used to it at this point. Macavity wouldn't be. "Do you mean that lots of cats had magic?"

"Oh, yes. The very first Jellicles - they all yielded the ability to control the magic that surrounds them. That surrounds us. It is not something to be ashamed of, Quaxo."

"You mean..." he paused briefly. "But what happened? Why am I...are we..." he resisted the urge to claw his ears again, there was probably no fur left up there anyways. "What happened?" he finally managed to spit out. "To all the magic?"

"You are confused, which is to be expected in a tribe that no longer welcomes our kind."

Our...what?

Quaxo could feel the subtle anger tinged in his voice. "Cats did not create magic," he continued. "But some are born with the ability to control it. There is magic all around us, that has never changed. It will never change, as much as the Jellicles want to ignore its presence."

Quaxo opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't find the words. Regardless, Macavity didn't seem to want to waste the time in letting him interrupt.

"The Jellicle tribe let their magic fade - mating with outsiders, housecats, diluting the gene pool..." he practically spit the last word. "They gave it up, all of it. Magic now...few cats are born with the ability to yield it to their influence." He clenched his paw again, and Quaxo could feel the tension coming off him in waves. "Magicians are a dying breed, and have been for decades."

Macavity drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes. His paw fell to his side.

"You are special, Quaxo. We are. We are superior to them, better than they can ever hope to be."

"But..."

His eyes snapped open again, a bright red that served as an eerie contrast to the dark sky above.

"They will never accept you," he hissed. "They never accepted me, or my magic."

"But you killed! You...you..." Quaxo's breaths came out as gasps. Tears stung his eyes.

("Leave. Now. You need to...")

"And you think your Munkustrap hasn't? Understanding is a three-edged sword, dear Quaxo. We all do things we regret, we've all made mistakes. We've hurt and killed. Even you."

I killed the pollicle. I shot it in the side. I e-l-e-c-t-r-o-c-u-t-e-d it. I've killed.

I've killed.

I've killed.

Macavity paused, taking Quaxo's paw into his own. He tried to suppress a flinch - he really, really hated being touched.

"The Jellicles are beneath us, don't you understand? They will never accept you for who you are. They fear what they cannot understand, and will leave you out to dry as they did me..."

"But Munkus..."

"Fears you. Tell me, has he told the tribe of your abilities yet?"

Quaxo sniffled, pulling his paw away. "All I wanted was for the Jellicle tribe to be as they were - to embrace the magic that surrounds us all," Macavity continued, lowering his voice. "Was that too much to ask? But they live in fear, they will always fear me. And they will always fear you."

It felt like something inside of him snapped - something buried deep in his chest. He tried stifling a sob, but didn't have the energy.

They never did trust him, did they? They kept telling him to hide himself away, and after what he did to Tugger?

Tugger...

He couldn't go back. He simply couldn't. They didn't want him there. They didn't need him, they didn't...

"You haven't even brushed the surface of what you are capable of." Macavity inched closer, his eyes bright and achingly close. "Let me show you."

Quaxo found he had difficulty turning away from the larger tom's gaze. He found…he found he didn't want to. It was comforting in a way….a mesmerizing gaze that screamed warmth and safety. That held him tightly in its grasp and refused to give. He inhaled slowly, grasping his paw once again.

"Teach me how to use my powers," he whispered.

And Macavity smiled.