Munkustrap caught himself looking at the tiny kitten for what must have been the fiftieth time in the past minute. The female human had brought him home and settled him in his bed, although the moment she left the tabby had gently transferred him to his own, more comfortable basket. Since then, he had been doing nothing but pacing.

But he hadn't woken up yet. Not even stirred. Nor were his paws or tail twitching, as they usually did as he dreamed. The only reassurance Munkustrap had that he wasn't dead was the steady movement of his chest.

Jellicles had stopped by in groups since the sun had come up. Most had come to pay their condolences and acknowledge the new leader, and had been thoroughly shocked to find that Old Deuteronomy had survived. One cat he hadn't seen yet, and had expected to see, was Rumpelteazer. Jennyanydots hadn't been there either, but Skimbleshanks had swung by to vouch for her. Cassandra had begun to deliver, and she and Jellylorum were needed.

"Munkustrap?"

The voice made his jump, and he spun to face the calico-patterned queen. "Rumpelteazer."

"I heard Granddad made it."

The silver tabby nodded. "Thank the Everlasting Cat."

She slowly walked over to the basket, her green eyes glued on the kit. "How is he?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. He's breathing, and his wounds aren't even deep anymore, his magic I suppose. But he hasn't so much as twitched a whisker since he came out of the clinic, and I've been up all night."

Rumpelteazer studied his tired face. "I believe that. You know about Cassandra?"

"Your father stopped in, but that was while she was still in labour. How is she?"

"Perfectly fine. She birthed two healthy kittens, a queen and a tom, in that order."

"What do they look like?"

"The tom looks like his Aunt Exotica, almost all that sleek brown colour. Except for that funny little black patch over his eye, like his father's. The queen's the spitting image of Alonzo aside from the gender, though from what Mum's said about her, the personality probably won't match his. The little bugger sunk her claws into Jelly's nose when she tried to pick her up."

Munkustrap managed a weary laugh. "I'll have to go there later and name them, I suppose." He looked back towards the kitten. "I'll have to get someone to stay with him, I'm not letting him out of that basket for quite a while."

"I'll stay with him," offered the queen. "It's the least I can do."

"Bustopher Jones… What happened with him?"

"Escaped," she sighed, giving a small shrug. "Don't ask me how because I don't know. The windows in the old car we stashed him in where rolled down maybe a centimetre, if that, but I'll bite off my own tail and eat it as well if he could squeeze through that, the tub of lard."

"So he's loose in London?" the tabby questioned, suddenly feeling a tad queasy.

"We've got everyone on the alert for him. And by everyone, I don't just mean Jellicles. Dad told the Finmar tribe down by the railway and the Kinka tribe, Granddad's always had friends there, the Peri and the Lerom tribes have been warned, Admetus and Exotica headed uptown this morning, and Plato tipped off a couple of his pals in the Armondert tribe."

"Never heard of them…"

"You must know them. Headquarters are under that bridge off the Old Hyde Road…"

"The one whose leader is that huge rust-coloured tabby mix called Artin? Since when has Plato had friends there?"

"Since he pulled an Armondert kitten out of a tree last spring. Victoria even let the cats on Saint James's Street know what he did, so may the Everlasting Cat help him if he puts so much as one paw into one of his clubs looking for help. Oh, and Asparagus went to the Yaltas."

"The… Is he crazy?"

"They were glad to help. Sent out a search party for him, and swore up and down that if they found him they'd be sure to bring him back alive, although… Oh, what was Haskin's exact words… That he wouldn't be the pretty tom he used to be once they caught up with him."

"Same goes if he comes within five miles of me," Munkustrap nodded, his appreciation for the Yaltas growing a bit.

"And some of the smaller tribes and the stray groups volunteered to keep an eye and an ear open and report if they knew anything. Everyone was more than happy to help. My grandfather's done a lot of work in his lives, and he's got friends in both high and low places. I sure as the Lyghtside Layer wouldn't want to be Bustopher Jones right now, not with most of the cats in London ready to claw the stuffing out of him soon as look at him."

"Who organized all this?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Surely everyone just didn't go out on their own to all the tribes. Who organized them?"

"Well… With you gone, and Alonzo and Mum busy with the new kittens… I guess I probably herded everybody up and gave out some orders…"

This caught him off guard. "You! Really?"

"Don't act so surprised," she said, blushing slightly under her striped fur. "'S in my blood, I suppose. Besides, if you can do it, how hard can it be? All you've got to do is point a bit and throw a threat in where needed."

Munkustrap sighed. "And why don't you have a mate yet?"

"Because I'm too independent."

"Ah."

Rumpelteazer cast her gaze around the room, and it finally came to rest on Old Deuteronomy, although when she spoke her voice was light and amused. "Mum pitched a fit this morning. Too bad you missed it, it was some show."

"Over what?" he questioned.

"Mungojerrie wants to move out of Victoria Grove and into Juana's den at the Junkyard. I can see that he wants to be with his mate, but I'm not too pleased about it myself… I mean, we've always been together, the notorious couple of cats. And now…" She shook her head.

"I wouldn't know what it's like. I was found on the side of the street. I have no family, save for Old Deuteronomy who took me in when no one else wanted me."

Rumpelteazer studied his face carefully. "Do you ever wonder who your parents were? Or why they left you?"

He began to answer, but paused when he heard a dry coughing and hacking. Munkustrap rushed over to the basket, crouching beside the kitten.

Deuteronomy slowly opened his eyes, and saw a set of very familiar blue eyes. One name escaped from his lips in both a hateful and frightened voice.

"Cronus!"

He scampered to the back of the basket, his tiny form quivering. Rumpelteazer rushed forward, nuzzling and licking him to calm him. Munkustrap just stood there, half in shock. Why had he said that name?

Having regained some of his breath, the kitten looked up towards the tabby. "Munk… I… I thought I was dead there for a minute..."

"We all did," admitted Rumpelteazer, butting him playfully with her head. "Everyone's been worried sick about you, Granddad. Especially me and Munkustrap."

Deuteronomy was silent, before asking "Who are Luna and Raphael?"

"I don't know," Munkustrap admitted. "Where did you hear those names?"

"I had a dream… There was this big silver tom, kind of like you, Munk, only his eyes weren't blue and he didn't have stripes. And his fur was darker, more like the light parts of mine. He told me that Luna and Raphael would soon come to the junkyard."

"I think you've got the names for Cassie's kittens right there," the calico-pattern queen grinned. "Although I can't imagine who that tom is."

Orion… the tabby thought sadly. Aloud, he said "Did he tell you the name Cronus as well?"

The kit shook his head. "No… I don't know why I said that…"

Munkustrap gave a deep sigh, and nuzzled him gently. "I'm going to go to the Junkyard and name Cassandra's litter."

"Can I come?"

"Absolutely not. You've been through a major healing. You need to rest. Rumpelteazer is going to stay here with you. And don't let him out of bed, you here me?"

The queen nodded. "Loud and clear, chief."

He bounded up the stairs and out the cat door.

"I will name the queen Luna, and the tom Raphael."

"Excellent names," the Siamese nodded, nuzzling the two newborns gently.

Munkustrap padded out of the den, but was stopped by Jennyanydots.

"You've got something on your mind," she said in a hushed tone. "And I want to know what it is."

He lowered his head a bit. "It's nothing, Jenny. Nothing."

"My tail it is. What is wrong with you, Munkustrap? You can trust me."

"It's just that… When Deuteronomy woke up, he took one look at me and shouted out a name." He paused for a moment. "That name was Cronus."

The Gumbie cat was silent. "You didn't tell him what happened, did you? Because if you did…"

"Of course I didn't tell him!" Munkustrap snapped. "Do you think I'm an idiot? I'm the Jellicle Protector, queen, not an ignorant stray."

Without hesitation, Jennyanydots smacked him across the face with a swift paw.

"Ow! What was that for!"

"You'll not talk to me or anyone else in that tone, young tom. Old Deuteronomy raised you better than that, so smarten up."

He rubbed his cheek tenderly. "You're right, of course. I'm really sorry, Jenny, I'm just upset."

"Apology accepted," she nodded. "Now, why in Heaviside would my father mistake you for Cronus?"

"How should…" He stopped, wisely choosing to rephrase what he had been about to say. "I'm not sure. I can't see any reason why he should. Unless… Do I look like him?"

"I didn't see him, Munkustrap, you'll have to talk to someone who has. There are only two living Jellicles who could give you a good description of him, and one's lost his memory."

"Asparagus?"

"None other."

"Do you know where I can find him?"

"His and Jellylorum's Junkyard den is the old oven. I think he's there now."

The silver tabby nodded. "Thank you, Jennyanydots. I should head over there now. And sorry I got angry."

"Sorry you made me have to hit you," the queen replied, giving him a mischievous smile that reminded him all too much of her daughter.

"Mum, I'm telling you, it was the same cat!"

"Amber, would you give it a rest already? That cat had terminal cancer. He must have been over twenty years old. He was most certainly not a tiny little kitten!"

"I know! But…" She grouped for something that didn't sound stupid. "Look, I'll be honest. I can't explain it, but that kitten and the old cat who bit me were one and the same! I've been thinking about it all last night and all today, and the more I think about it, the more I'm sure that I'm right!"

"Oh, and I suppose you were thinking about it during last week's English test as well?"

"I only saw him last night, how could I be thinking about him last week?"

"Something other than Ibsen's Enemy of the People must have been on your mind, your mark was certainly low enough."

Amber groaned. "Not that again… Look, I'm just not good at English!"

"Or at math, or science, or history…"

"What do you want from me!"

"Better grades, obviously."

She gave an exasperated sigh. "I know this sounds crazy…"

"You have no idea," the vet sighed wearily.

"… but I know this is the same cat! He had a scar on his hind right leg exactly where the old cat's surgical cut was. And just look at this!" She pulled back the sleeve of her sweatshirt and spread her fingers. The flesh between her thumb and index finger was bandaged, but she pulled it back to reveal the two old, scarred punctures and the two she had received last night.

Dr. Tom raised an eyebrow. "Your point being…"

"They're in the same place! Well, not exactly. I mean, how could they be? But they're exactly in line! If that cat's mouth had have been as big as it was the first time he bit me, he would have gotten in the same spot. You can't say that's a coincidence!"

"No, but I can say it's carelessness. You leave that part of your hand vulnerable when you reach down. Cats are smart and vengeful creatures, they know where they can make you hurt the most. As for it being in line, that kitten is about the same breed as the old cat, they probably had similar teeth patterns."

"But…!"

"But nothing. Either give it up, or get out of the office. I can't stand this any more than I can stand your singing. Now beat it."

Grumbling to herself, she stalked off to go sulk in her room.

"Rumpelteazer? May we come in?"

The queen looked up to see Coricopat and Tantomile on the stairs. "Yeah, sure. I finally got him to go to sleep, though, so try not to wake him."

The pair descended, and upon closer inspection, it looked like neither had slept in a week.

"You two don't look so hot. Are you sick or something?"

Coricopat shook his head. "We gave a lot of our energy to Old Deuteronomy last night. His powers aren't developed enough yet to heal wounds like that, so we gave him a boost where needed."

This stunned her a bit. "Wow… Well, thanks. Thanks a lot. From everyone in the tribe."

"Just serving our leader," Tantomile said, both bowing their heads slightly. "It's what magical cats are meant to do. Besides, we're rather fond of him, as a kitten as well as a leader. We could never let him die, even if he was not Old Deuteronomy."

Teazer smiled, blinking her glass green eyes. "You two are alright."

"We try to be," they said in unison.

"Asparagus? Asparagus? Are you in?"

The brownish tom stuck his head out of the old oven. "Munkustrap! Now what on earth could the Jellicle Protector want with me? Please tell me you're not upset that I went to the Yaltas."

The tabby shook his head. "No, it's not about that. Actually, I suppose I should thank you for that. I need to know about something. About… Cronus."

His fur bristled noticeably at the very name. "What could you possibly want to know about that tom, Protector? He's dead and gone and I say good riddance. I assume you know what he did?"

Munkustrap nodded. "Jennyanydots told me." His brother, he thought to himself. His brother's mate, and his mate's parents. "But it's important I know some things."

Asparagus nodded slowly. "I'll tell you what I know. Any specific questions you have?"

He bit his lip slightly. "Asparagus, I need an honest answer about this. Do I look like Cronus?"

The older tom studied him for an entire minute, looking more and more uncomfortable by the moment. Finally…

"Yes," he admitted grudgingly. "The eyes… Mainly the eyes… His, Cronus's… They were bright blue, like yours. But Munkustrap, that doesn't mean… It could be very distant…"

He didn't stay to hear more. He fled into the depths of the junkyard.

"Christine… Christine!"

The girl blinked as a hand came down hard on the top of the piano.

"Christine, that's the forth time you've played that measure! I don't know where your head is today, but you'd better get it back on the music in front of you! Now, Saint-Sean's The Turtle, from the beginning."

She began to play the piece again. It fit her mood, really. Slow, plodding. Emotionless… Christine didn't really know what was wrong with her. She felt so… empty. Not depressed, but not happy. Not angry, yet not at peace.

Her fingers found the notes easily, given so much time due to the slow beat of the song. She set her eyes dead on the sheet of music, and swore up and down that she wouldn't loose her focus again. But soon enough…

"Christine!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Green…"

"Start again! And stay focused!"

"Yes, Mrs. Green…"

She began to play the piece again…