I fully expect to get murdered in my bed by any and all Mistoffelees lovers for this chapter. Sleep is for the weak, anyway…

O

'Coricopat?'

Coricopat turned over sleepily. Muzzily, he was about to ask what the matter was when a nervous paw nudged him. Angrily (he needed his sleep, why could Tantomile never understand that?), Coricopat sat bolt upright. 'What?'

Quaxo, (for it was he), jumped backwards. 'Sorry, I just thought that maybe you could help,' he mumbled nervously.

Feeling rather guilty for shouting at the kitten, and rather shamed he looked like he was shirking his training duties, Coricopat shook his head to clear it. 'Sorry, Quaxo, I was just…tired. Never too tired to help you, though,' he added gamely and untruthfully. 'What's wrong?'

Quaxo beckoned with one white-patched paw and drew the mystical cat's attention to the brig. There was an almighty ruckus coming from its insides; since Quaxo slept near it, it was no wonder the poor cat had been affected by the noise.

'C'n I blast it?' the kitten asked innocently, lightning sprouting from his paws.

Quaxo got a glare for his troubles. 'Quaxo,' began the older cat sternly, 'You've been listening to rumour and speculation, haven't you?'

Quaxo looked down as Beth took a short break from her screaming. 'Everyone says she's evil.'

'And 'Everyone' is never wrong,' reminded Coricopat, somewhat harshly. 'Everyone used to think magical cats were evil.'

The kitten scowled at Coricopat. 'Yeah, well, I've never been so bad I've been stuck in there.'

As Beth started to scream once more, Coricopat sighed. It was no use waking Tantomile if he could handle this on his own.

'Tell you what,' he said loudly to Quaxo over her screams, 'You go and get her breakfast. I'll calm her down. We'll need water for her, too.'

As the magical cat scampered off, looking both sneaky and disapproving, Coricopat entered the brig, giving Pouncival (one of the guards) a swift clip round the ear for being so dead to the world when asleep. He readied himself in case the frenzied girl attacked, and unlocked the door.

Nothing. Beth was screwed up on the rag bundle, and she didn't look to be awake or even half-asleep. He bent down to look at her, and her eyes were flickering back and forth under her eyelids.

Just a dream.

Coricopat lurched towards the door, intending to sleep a little while longer. As he threw it open, a small black blur came hurtling through with a shiny, open metal can. Quaxo, of course. Damn.

The tin-carrying blur stopped and squinted. 'She doesn't look too evil. No red fur. No long fingernails. Looks a bit dirty—'

'Quaxo.'

'—Maybe if she groomed herself she could look nice, well, not as nice as Jemima or Victoria—'

'Quaxo.'

'Or maybe she needs human stuff? Have we got—'

'Mistoffelees,' hissed Coricopat, mainly from tiredness, not noticing Beth's eye suddenly open a crack. 'Please. You've blasted the can open—'

Beth's body suddenly went tenser. Quaxo noticed, and was about to open his mouth and ask why, but found himself being bundled up by Coricopat, who was not in the mood to handle magical precocious kittens. Hearing a stream of words that seemed to boil down to 'Tantomile is in charge of training today!', the kitten found himself bowled out of the brig, with only a glimpse of the girl to brag to the others about.

It was enough. He skipped off to find Tumblebrutus and boast about having only just escaped those ferocious eyes and those yellow fangs.

O

A week later, and the kittens were buzzing with excitement. Beth had largely been forgotten about after the initial burst of terror and rampant fascination, and they were now waiting for their newest obsession to turn up: Tantomile had taught Mistoffelees how to shape lightning bolts with his paws, and he could now write names in the air, that fizzled and sparked with miniature bolts.

'Do mine again!' begged Rumpleteazer, having been drawn to the group by the sheen of the electricity. Mistoffelees smiled beatifically and cast the first 'R', when Victoria suddenly gasped and pointed towards the brig.

The door was opening, and the Twins were escorting the human out of the Junkyard. Immediately, despite the adults' attempt to hold them back, the kittens raced to a nearer spot—all except Mistoffelees, now ordinary Quaxo again, who hung back nearer the adults, partly due to his shyness and partly due to the fact he felt a little dizzy after his stunts.

Behind him, he could hear Munkustrap fending off questions from the rest of the Tribe. He did not pay much attention to what was being said: he had a feeling that something bad was going to happen, and so kept firmly focused on Beth. Perhaps the Twins felt the same way? Coricopat was definitely not as serene as he usually was; jumpier, perhaps, not as in tune with Tantomile. Out of step, oh yes.

The two Jellicles approached closer to the kittens. Beth did not do anything except to shuffle alongside them and completely ignored the kittens. She seemed have her fists balled for if anyone tried to scratch at her; and now they were moving near Quaxo.

The Twins almost hung back as Beth limped along; she seemed to be not much of a threat, after all, thought an amused Quaxo. He let himself wonder how she was getting out of the junkyard; and then

and then

and then

she grabbed hold of him (of him, Quaxo was too surprised to react), and opened her fist. It had a sharp, jagged piece of metal from the cans he had blasted open: and she plunged it into his chest, hard; and pulled along and tugged it out, and then she ran

and he dropped.

Most of the Tribe leapt for Quaxo, pouring out blood: Munkustrap and Alonzo sprung to catch the evil girl, who had for some reason stopped just out of the pipe, and she was laughing and showing those butter-yellow, vicious canine teeth of hers, and they jumped for her; (Quaxo was sure she had another plan, but could not speak), and something terribly bright and orange shimmered and they were knocked back.

Beth laughed once more, cruelly examining the now crimson piece of tin. The Twins, furious and frightened, looked up and called with one voice:

'Who do you work for?'

The girl spat contemptuously in their direction; it would not reach them, but she appeared pleased. 'Napoleon,' she answered. 'The Napoleon of Crime.'

Coricopat ran up to the closest place to the barrier. 'You told us,' he shouted, 'That you did not work for Macavity! You swore!'

'I don't even know who that is, you stupid furball,' the girl answered with delight. As she was about to leave the Jellicles to their chaos and panic, the orange light glinted again, and a voice boomed out.

'That's me.'

Beth looked up, in terror. 'Sir?'

'Shut up, human,' he snarled. 'I can hear, but not see; suffice to let the Tribe know that now their magician is…ah…incapacitated, they can expect a visit from me soon...'

He paused to enjoy the cries of terror from some of the Jellicles, and then spoke again.

'Symbol—I expect a report from you. If the plan was totally successful, mayhap you will visit me alone later on.'

Beth—Symbol—called out her agreement, though she could not stop her shudder of revulsion. Turning, and flicking the last bit of bloodstained metal at Macavity's barrier with her long fingers, she watched the carnage and the bloodflow from Quaxo's chest for a few moments, then bounded away.

Coricopat and Tantomile exchanged horrified glances; shame, guilt, anger at themselves; and then, as one cat, ran to help the bleeding Jellicle magician.

O

I warned you.

If you want to yell, or praise, or tell me your thoughts at all—the review button is just there.

And you may even get the final chapter/s this weekend: A-level homework is pretty much just notes at the minute.