And, henceforth, I present thee... Chapter eighteen!

DISCLAIMER: Don't be absurd. =waves hand of absurdity=

Eighteen

"Chic..."

The pale-striped she-cat turned. Ivy was staring at her with an odd expression on his face.

"Mmn?"

"Can I... Well..." The tortoiseshell tom was pawing the ground, looking embarrassed. "I just wanted to say, I'm still going to help you find Chrys," he blurted out.

Chicory wondered at his shyness. Usually, he was more outspoken, but... what he was saying had touched her.

"That's a very nice thing to say."

Ivy looked up hopefully, with a purr.

With a significant look at them, Pine cleared his throat. Both Ivy and Chicory jumped, and Chicory felt a touch of her old chagrin burn her. She had totally forgotten that her brother was there.

"In case you two were too busy to notice..." Pine mewed, half-amused, half-stern. "It might interest you to know that our friend and her Twoleg are heading this way." He flicked his tail direction of a cat and a young Twoleg, who were looking more than pleased to see them turn up.

"Chance!" yowled Chicory, delighted. "Chance!"

Blinking, Ivy meowed, "Chance? Chance, is that... her...?"

Chicory didn't miss that his speech had suddenly become slower, more slurred. She turned to him, brow furrowed.

"Ivy? What's wrong?"

"I... I'm fi-"

And, totally out of the blue, Ivy fainted.

Needless to say, the rest of them were stunned.

"Wh-what just happened?" Snapdragon whimpered. "What's wrong with Ivy?"

Pine groaned, as though something had just occurred to him. Everyone jumped.

"What is it?"

"He's a tortoiseshell tom, isn't he?" meowed Pine, sounding frustrated that he had forgotten. "Tortoiseshell toms are really prone to illness!"

Chicory's eyes widened. This was perfectly true - tortoiseshell toms were a lot more likely to catch life-threatening diseases. Their bodies weren't adapted to fighting them off... The dappled shape that was Ivy looked very small all of a sudden.

"Oh, foxdung, foxdung, foxdung..." Pine was muttering.

Chance sniffed around Ivy's form and found his paw, which she took in her teeth and shook gently. Ivy didn't respond. "He's really out..." she mewed, her voice laced with sympathy. The brown she-cat pushed her nose against his pad, and shook her head. "Warm," she announced. "It's not good."

While the kittypet was conducting this study, Pine had begun to stare at her in wonder. "How do you know that?" he asked.

Surprised, Chance turned to him. "The cat that belonged to the Twolegs next door taught me," she replied. "His Twolegs were vets. They heal animals," she added, seeing their blank looks.

"This cat... could he teach us?" asked Pine carefully.

Chance dropped her eyes to her paws. "Oh, um... Paddy's not with us anymore."

Pine bit his lip. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

The cats lapsed into silence. Chicory couldn't bear it. Every heartbeat they waited, Ivy might be growing closer and closer to death...

What can we do, what can we do?

When Chicory was on the verge of checking that poor Ivy was still alive - she was half-afraid to, in case he wasn't - Chance's dark-eyed Twoleg bent down and picked Ivy up with gentle paws, cradling him in her forelegs.

Chicory started as the Twoleg began to stride away, still carrying Ivy. "What's she doing?" she cried, panicked.

But Chance's expression was happier. "She must be taking him to Paddy's old Twolegs," she purred. "I never thought of that! They're still vets, of course."

"Do you really think so?" squeaked Chicory in disbelief, hardly daring to think that a Twoleg could be that intelligent.

"Of course," answered Chance. "Twolegs aren't stupid."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" piped up Snapdragon, a bundle of excitement as usual. "Let's go!" At once, he shot off after them, with Chance, Pine, and Chicory following.

It amazed Chicory how Chance's Twoleg seemed to know her exact way around Twolegplace, never even taking a wrong turning, despite its same-seeming nature. It did occur to Chicory that perhaps that Twoleg was getting lost, so long seemed the walk, but her stride remained confident enough.

"I guess we never really thanked you properly for back in the animal shelter," mewed Chicory humbly to Chance ."We all owe you our lives."

Chance waved away the thanks. "Aw, you'd have done the same... It's just a good think I have a helpful Twoleg to do things like rescue trapped cats!" She purred at the vaguely not-funny pun.

"No, really," mewed Pine, earnest to join in, "We'd probably still be there if it weren't for you, Lilac."

Lilac.

The word had clearly had the same effect on Pine - his amber eyes had widened at his mistake, and even though he was still walking, the fur across his spine and shoulders was bristling. Chicory imagined she must look much the same.

Seeming not to have noticed her companions' distress, Chance mewed good-humouredly, "Lilac? Who's that?"

As though a starry cat had taken pity on them, however, at that moment, Snapdragon hollered from in front, "I think we're nearly there! She's speeding up! Chance, are we nearly there?"

"Wait a heartbeat, let me come and see!" Chance raised her voice and dashed away from Chicory and Pine to join Snapdragon at the front.

Chicory's thoughts raced at what Pine's small error had sparked. Lilac. She hadn't thought about her sister in a while, and it was... a little painful, if the truth was known.

"Pine?" whispered Chicory. Her brother's eyes were like chips of stone.

"Lilac..." the brown tom murmured, in a tone Chicory obviously wasn't intended to hear.

A sigh escaped from Chicory's body - a deep, shuddering sigh that sounded like the sigh of a much older cat. "It's okay, Pine," she mewed quietly, her voice shaking the tiniest amount. "I miss her, too."

###

What seemed like not many heartbeats later, Chicory was squatting in a glossy-leaved bush, peering out of the branches and feeling like some sort of spy.

Chance had advised them to hide while her Twoleg took Ivy into the other Twolegs' nest. Grudgingly, they had all agreed, and now Chicory, Pine, and a very wriggly Snapdragon were in said bush, watching Chance and her Twoleg being accepted into the den without question.

"So unfair," grumbled Snapdragon. His ginger tail was sticking up in the air, very much visible. "They get all the fun."

"This isn't fun," snapped Chicory, who was watching Chance trot neatly at her Twoleg's heels and secretly agreeing with Snapdragon. "This is Ivy's life we're talking about."

"Can't be that ill," muttered Snapdragon under his breath, stabbing at a fat caterpillar with his forepaw.

Chicory tutted quietly and cast a reckless glance at the opening in the nest that Chance, her Twoleg, and Ivy had vanished into. It slammed shut - but not before Chicory had caught sight of someone.

Someone pink-skinned, with large, pale eyes and pudgy paws.

Someone who, at the present, looked cleaner than Chicory had ever seen her.

Chrysanthemum.