squees quietly Thank you all so, so much for your reviews. You have no idea how much they cheered me up. School has yet to be kind to me. I'm probably not helping myself by staying up until 5 a.m. most weekend nights, chatting and roleplaying and writing, but eh.

Here's the last chapter! I've loved writing this story, and you can bet that as soon I get a new Cats plot idea, I'll ignore my Religious Studies or English Lit homework and type it up.

I'd especially like to thank Ekwy for convincing me to write this, and Aevany Storm for being the first person to review Motive.

Without further ado, onto the chapter.

O

As Beth stumbled over rocks and plants in her attempt to get to Napo—Macavity's lair before the barrier went down, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor Tribe. Yes, they had trusted her, and she betrayed them in the worst way possible. But what was that, that Macavity said once? 'If they're stupid enough to trust you, you deserve everything they get.'

That she agreed with. She leapt over a block of concrete on the ground, and skinned the side of her leg as she came down awkwardly on it. She hissed in pain, and kept on fast to the hospital where he had made his offices after killing the lone Jellicle there.

Cynara, another of Macavity's workers—but a cat—looked up as she came in. Seeing it was just the human, she looked down again at the old book she had found, ignoring Beth's skinned leg and the grit stuck in it.

'Can you tell him I'm back?' panted the girl, searching for the water pipe to clean her graze. Cynara rolled her eyes and pointed with a claw.

'Tell him yourself.'

Beth followed the claw to the old Chief Of Medicine's office, a floor above. Hiding her leg by winding an old, tatty blanket around her waist, Beth took the stairs two at a time, eager to hear what he had to say to her.

Straightening her hair with her hands, she leant against the wall for a moment, to wipe off the blood on her. In leaning her head back, she found she could hear Macavity's rasping voice instructing a worker what to do.

'…and then, and then take…Demeter, and Rumpleteazer,' he mused. 'Tell them their mates are dead, and imprison the toms in the cadaver room. They'll go mad there soon enough—and then, when they are insane, show them to their mates.'

The worker mumbled something.

'That human just killed their precious magician! What will the Twins do, attempt to stare me down?'

The worker did not argue anymore. Beth hoped it was because he had been clever and held his tongue.

There was a bang, and the worker exited, sweating visibly. He sneered at Beth, and ran down the steps, tail down.

Beth nervously cleared her throat, and entered the room.

Macavity was reclining on a blood-red chaise longue, with darker patches where it had matted or been clawed it. It fitted him well, Beth reflected, it suited his colouring in both body and mind. Red, she knew, was for ruthlessness.

In a silkier voice than he'd used with the worker, he spoke. 'Human. News to report?'

Macavity shook his head. 'No, wait, I told you when you killed him then you would receive a name. Symbol.'

Beth nodded nervously. 'I sat by the car, where you told me they would be. Sure enough, one came. He spotted me and ran off. Then two scouts came along, and I added the trail symbols so you'd know where I was. Then that Munkustrap and two others came along.'

'Where was the magician during all this?' Macavity interrupted, frowning.

'He, he wasn't there, sir,' she said quickly. 'I did stab him. They took me to the Junkyard, tried to question me, but they couldn't get anything out of me that was true. And they brought me food that I learnt was opened by him, and it was metal, and they led me past him when I was to leave, and…I stabbed him.'

Macavity purred slickly. 'I am pleased. The barrier is still up. Remain here, and I will go and fight them.'

Beth knew that what he really meant was to create a massacre with not one drop of his own blood spilling. She approved. Nodding, she backed out from the room.

O

The Junkyard was in chaos. Quaxo had lost much of his blood, and Coricopat and Tantomile only knew so much of herbs that could help him. Jenny was trying to make him comfortable and bandage his chest, and Tantomile wished, just wished that Mistoffelees could come out and use his magic.

Wait—she thought, wait…

Pushing Coricopat away from the kit's arm, Tantomile bent so she was looking at Quaxo's pale face. 'Mistoffelees,' she said urgently, 'Hear me. It is your teacher. Agree to send me your magic.'

Quaxo's head flopped to the side. Tantomile raised a paw to lift it straight again, and spoke again. 'Mistoffelees. To stop Macavity from taking over the junkyard, to stop him from taking us!'

Quaxo, obviously with effort, twitched his eye. Taking it as permission, Tantomile grasped his paw and gasped as what felt like a thousand volts sizzled up her arm.

'Thank you,' she muttered, after she could speak once more. She knew what to do, had taught him, and touched either side of the kit's chest.

Slowly, slowly, more colour began to come into his cheeks.

Jenny yanked at Coricopat's side. 'What is she doing?' she whispered.

Coricopat shook his head. 'I believe she is replenishing his blood flow, mending his tissue…he will be weak for several weeks, but now she has his magic, the junkyard may yet be saved—'

A crash, a sizzle outside. Screams. The barrier was down, and Macavity was inside. Tantomile was holding her head, clearly in pain after using magic that was not hers, and could not stand.

Coricopat took his sister's hand, looking up at her. 'Listen to me! Come on! You have no time to worry about the consequences! Quaxo allowed you his magic, you would be dead if he hadn't agreed to the power transfer! You must hurry!'

Tantomile could not focus: she looked tired, and sick. Coricopat, anxiously chewing on his bottom lip, decided that he could only do one thing.

Dragging her to the door of Jenny's den, he made them both look outside: carnage.

Macavity was standing on top of the old car, laughing: Old Deuteronomy was nowhere to be found, two of his henchmen were keeping Alonzo from reaching Cassandra: Rumpleteazer was fighting off several cats of loyalty to Macavity, snarling and biting; Munkustrap was trying to slash at a henchrat's chest whilst protecting Demeter…

'Look at them!' he urged his sister. 'Use your power!'

Tantomile groaned; even more frantic, Coricopat searched around: now Rumpleteazer was being dragged away by the same cats, Mungojerrie being forcibly kept away as she cried his name: the henchrat was bleeding, but so was Demeter….

He licked his sister. 'For me,' he said urgently.

She was standing up now: taking careful aim (he helped to steady her), she sent bolts to Macavity's army. Anyone looking at her would see a silhouette of an androgynous cat illuminated by occasional flashes of blue. One by one, the henchmen dropped away, fleeing—as Macavity was about to, she loosed a jolt to the car he was on. He cried out in pain, and literally ripped away, leaving some fur behind.

Coricopat could hardly contain his joy: they had won.

Tantomile tumbled to the ground, and he knew her body could not handle the magic any longer. He stumbled with her to Quaxo, and picked up each of their limp paws. The magic was transferred, and both looked healthier.

Jenny looked at them. 'I appreciate what you two just did, but Quaxo needs immediate care.'

Coricopat nodded, and Tantomile weakly agreed. They went out into the sunlight; Mungojerrie was holding his shaking partner-in-crime, Munkustrap and Demeter seemed to be holding each other up, and the kittens surrounded Old Deuteronomy.

It seemed unlikely that Macavity would come visiting soon.

O

Cynara had, reluctantly, allowed Beth time to wash. Macavity often made good on his promises to bed those who had done good jobs for him; he would not want the singular human to be even more disgusting for him.

Now she had been let into his room, and she sat at the foot of the blood-red sofa, staring at a matted brown patch nervously.

Slam. The door opened, and before Beth could even look at him, Macavity had twisted and snapped her neck.

Beth fell down, dead. Macavity spat on her, and then gave instructions on what to do with the body.

O

When the people of France received a covered boat from across the channel, they assumed it was refugees.

It was the decomposing body of a teenage girl, with a note pinned to her chest.

Presently, the Jellicles began to receive even more parcels of food and water from other countries: and they did not question why.

They knew Macavity's methods too well.