Yes everyone it is true! I'm still here and once more, I'm here with a new chapter!

ABOUT OSWALD: at least one person has asked me where I got the idea for Oswald. He's sort of based on the obese/half-whitted/banana obsessed/compleatly adorable blue-tounge lizard that lives in my backyard. His name is B.F.B. (Big Fat Blue-tounge) but at one point we were going to call him Oswald. B.F.B won the day though when we weighed him and found out that he weighed nearly as much as our cat!

Tugger climbed the stairs three at a time till he arrived at Quaxo's room. Knocking on the door he waited for an answer, none came. Frowning, Tugger tried again, still no response. At last Tugger opened the door, and smiled at the scene that greeted him.

The magician was asleep at his desk, surrounded by numerous sheets of paper. His head was pillowed by his arms and his face wore a look of extreme concentration. Quaxo never seemed to rest, even when asleep. Oswald was seated by Quaxo's chair, nudging at his feet and trying to eat his toes. No one could call Oswald a fussy eater.

Temptation overcame Tugger. Being as quiet as possible, he crept up behind the tux and tickled the back of his neck, no response. Tugger tried it again, still nothing happened. 'Quaxo must be really tired' he mused.

Removing his hand from the Tux's neck, Tugger grabbed one of the pillows from the bed. Gingerly he moved Quaxo arms that had been cushioning his head and replaced it with a pillow. Next he took the plate that Quaxo had left on his bed in order to take it downstairs. Tugger saw that there was still a piece of toast left on the plate that Quaxo had left untouched. Tugger frowned, why had Quaxo forgotten to eat?

As an afterthought, Tugger tidied away the papers that littered Quaxo's desk, being careful not to make too much noise in case he woke the tux up. Peeking at a few of the papers he saw the following lines highlighted in blue:

'What is your request?'

'I need a certain Tom broken, framed and arrested.''Details?'

'Gray tabby. About seven ft. tall. Elderly. Owns the London theatre. Named Gus.'

'Reason?'

'Revenge. :)'

Glancing back at the desk Tugger spotted the notebooks that they'd been trying to 'borrow' for weeks. They were filled with unrecognizable lines and squiggles. Right! Quaxo was translating it!

'What kind of sick bastard writes a smiley face after asking for something like that?' wondered Tugger as he placed the notebooks on top of the stack of papers he'd made. Casting an admiring glance at Quaxo, he left the room. Who knew that Quaxo could read shorthand?

He, of course, had completely missed the copy of Shorthand for Dummies.

Quaxo walked through the sea of fog and smoke, searching, always searching. "Victoria! Victoria, where are you?"

"Mistoffelees? Mistoffelees is that you?" a voice called from up ahead.

"Victoria! Yes it's me, are you all right?" up ahead he saw a small figure curled up on the floor, she was shivering.

"I'm alright, Mistoffelees, but you need to hurry! There are others here with me and time is running out for them." Quaxo could now see bruises showing through her white fur, and the pink collar, now faded and stained, around her neck. On her shoulder was an angry red burn in the shape of an M.

M for Macavity.

"Who are the others? Where are you?" Quaxo asked frantically. But before Victoria could answer a low growling was heard. Victoria whimpered as a pair of claw lashed out from the darkness. Suddenly everything in the magician's vision turned red.

Quaxo woke up so violently that he sat up and nearly tipped his chair over. That was close, too close. The first thing he saw was that his head had been resting on a pillow. That wasn't there when he fell asleep, was it? Looking around, he saw that someone had tidied up his papers and taken his plate away. Tugger.

A sharp pain shot up his foot and when Quaxo looked down he saw Oswald happily munching on his toe. A small grin of affection flicked across the tux's face, silly turtle. Scooping Oswald up, he placed him back in the tank and turned his attention back to his desk.'

Extracting a sheet, he looked at what was probably his best clue to Macavity's whereabouts. A line saying 'the hidden paw will meet you above the water.' What made it so relevant was that at least one out of five entries in the notebooks said the same thing. But before he worried about that he had to make a call.

Easier said than done… he had absolutely no idea where his phone was.

Eventually Quaxo found his phone inside one of his lamps, a solid looking street lamp from the 1920's. Flipping the phone open, he dialled the hospital's number. "Hello may I visit a friend of mine? Her name is Demeter and I think she's in the emergency ward."

"Who are you?" asked a cool voice that Quaxo recognised as Cassandra's.

"I'm Quaxo, I was the one that brought her in yesterday and…"

"Oh I'm sorry" Cassandra butted in "I'm afraid that you can't see Demeter today Quackie."

"It Quaxo!" he replied "and why I can't see Demeter?"

Quaxo heard an impatient sigh and the words "I'm sorry Quackie, but I can't let you see her"

The Tux gritted his teeth and tried again "okay if I can't see Demeter now than when can I see her?" But Cassandra had already hung up. Quaxo hung up too and glared at the phone. Bitch.

Since the receptionist was not going to let him see Demeter, Quaxo decided to head over to the Thames instead. He teleported over to the part where the London eye was situated and gazed down and the dark, polluted water. Many cats walked past as he concentrated on the water, they were staring at him but Quaxo ignored their curiosity, he was on a hunt and the rest of the world might as well have been on another planet while it lasted.

'The hidden paw will meet you above the water. Well here he was right next to water, so where was Macavity? Walking down stream Quaxo's gaze never left the river. Macavity might be on one of the boats motoring past, he might be in a plane flying over the ocean, hell he might even be on a kick board in a swimming pool for all Quaxo knew. Walking impatiently Quaxo forgot to look where he was going and ran headlong into a real estate sign.

"Ow" he muttered rubbing his forehead. The sign was advertising the large block of flats behind it that had fallen into a state of disrepair. The sign itself was tattered and mangy and had graffiti all over saying that so-and-so was a faggot. Quaxo rolled his eyes and looked back at the block of flats. They were filthy, deserted and situated right next to the river. A good spot for the hidden paw as any other. Quaxo walked up to the flats and climbed in through a broken window, if he was going to start searching for the hidden paw, he might as well start here.

The flat's interior wasn't as bad as the outside suggested it to be just a few broken doors and windows and several years' worth of dust proved that the place was unoccupied. Quaxo took a quick look around the other rooms just to make sure but there was nothing. No lights, no recent food remains, no running water. Nothing to suggest that the hidden paw (or anyone else for that matter), was living here. He had just left a room that contained nothing but a long dead pigeon when he heard a noise. Freezing instinctively his ears swivelled round to pinpoint the noise. It seemed to be coming from upstairs.

Not wanting to go up the stairs in case they creaked, he teleported up into the room directly above the one he was in. The noise was much louder here and had a gravely sound, like sandpaper against wood. It was coming from one of the back rooms. Tip-toeing down a passageway Quaxo hesitated outside a door that was partly open. The noise was coming from the room behind it. Taking a gamble, Quaxo suck his head round the was what looked like a breathing lump of rags, it was in fact a tabby sleeping. The sandpaper noise had been his snoring.

Quaxo's arm must have unknowingly brushed against the door because slowly opened fully with a long, horribly high pitched squeak. Woken by the noise, the sleeping tom bolted upright and stared at him, then tried to back up against the wall.

"You bad cat?" he asked fearfully. Quaxo shook his head.

"No I'm not a bad cat" the tabby relaxed a little.

"You steal Addie's things? You hurt Addie?" Again Quaxo shook his heat.

"I won't hurt you Addie, I'm a friend. Is your full name Adam? or Admetus?" As he said Admetus the cat shrank away, bringing his knees up to his chin.

"Don't hurt Addie, Don't hurt Addie" he whimpered rocking back and forth. Quaxo hurriedly sat down so as to not further frighten Addie (Admetus).

"I'm not going to hurt you Addie" he held up his paws "see, I have nothing. I'm a friend Addie." Addie at last seemed to calm down and Quaxo took the opportunity to roll onto all fours and slowly start to crawl toward the frightened tom."

"I'm not going to hurt you Addie. I'm not a bad tom. I'm your friend Addie," he continued to reassure, all the while inching closer and closer to the corner where the tabby was sitting. Addie only stared at him, his eyes growing larger with every step Quaxo took. When Quaxo was about a meter away he began to visibly shake. Quaxo racked his brains, trying to think of a way to calm the tom down. "Hey, are you hungry Addie would you like some food?" Admetus nodded. Slowly reaching behind his back Quaxo quickly conjured up some comfort food, namingly a triple decker cheese burger, fries, and a caramel milkshake. Mouthing watering Addie eyed the food. "Go ahead, eat" Quaxo smiled.

Addie wolfed down the food. Almost chocking on the fries when he the fries went down the wrong way, he quickly drank some milkshake to stop the coughing. While he was eating Quaxo sat down next to him, trying to hold his breath. The tom stank like a garbage bin. Quaxo wondered when the last time he had washed was. At last Addie finished slurping the last dregs of milkshake and sighed contentedly. When he looked at Quaxo again he didn't flinch or shy away, but smiled showing a set of very sharp teeth.

"Strange tom is nice, Addie says thank you" he announced. Quaxo smiled back.

"You're welcome Addie. My name is Mr. Mistoffelees."

After a few seconds of silence Admetus began to absent mindedly began to rip the Styrofoam milkshake cup apart. As Quaxo watched him he noticed a strange marking on the tabby's shoulder. Someone had burnt the tom's skin at some point, leaving a faint scar in the shape of an M.

Admetus looked at him and was about to say something when a muffled thump came from downstairs along with the sound of voices. Admetus whimpered and buried his face in his arms, knees once again meeting his chest.

"Bad cats" he whispered. Quaxo hurriedly got up.

"Don't worry Addie, I'll get rid of the bad cats" he said. Addie looked up at him fearfully.

"Promise?" he asked

"I promise".

Quaxo teleported downstairs and crept towards the front of the building. The voices were coming from the atrium. Peering through the crack between the wall and floor all that Quaxo could see was an ancient red rug that, like everything else in the place, was covered in dust. This gave him an idea.

Very softly he blew on the rug, it glittered briefly before once more becoming a dull red. The cats (Quaxo guessed that there were three of them) did not notice and continued talking in hushed tones. Quaxo scooted away from the door, and waited.

One of the cats finally said "fine I'll go in first and walked towards the door. Once both his feet were on the carpet there was a loud BOOM. Someone screamed and a lot of coughing and swearing could be heard.

"What the hell is going on? Get me down!" someone said angrily. Recognizing the voice Quaxo grew pale.

'That, was not supposed to happen' he thought as he opened the door…

'Oops'.

My oh my what HAS Quaxo done now?