Forever Until Now

Chapter 19;; Luckless

In his usually bright eyes, thousands of shadows writhed, haunting the tom to his very soul.

Jemima picked her way across a particularly messy part of the Junkyard, wrinkling her nose at the odors that lingered in the air. It was the quickest way to the vicarage wall, where Munkustrap was, but it wasn't the nicest way by far.

As she drew close to her destination, she heard low voices. Munkustrap and Deuteronomy…?

"Things seem to be returning to normal." That was Munkustrap, his voice tight.

"On the outside, perhaps, but inside we are all burning with grief." Deuteronomy spoke calmly, but his voice betrayed that he too was still grieving for Victoria.

"What are we going to do about Plato and Mistoffelees?" Munkustrap sounded troubled, and Jemima leant in to listen, curious.

"Mm… I have no idea, I'm afraid." Deuteronomy, for once, sounded at a loss for words. "How are we going to bring another Chardir into the tribe? The circumstances are far too suspicious."

Shar…deer?

"Is Plato powerful enough to deceive the tribe?" Munkustrap questioned mildly. Jemima was beginning to feel frightened. There certainly was a lot about the Jellicles she'd never realized.

"Perhaps," Deuteronomy said thoughtfully. "But how can we pay the Chardirs again? It was difficult enough to find enough to satisfy them last time." His voice turned dark. "They ask a high price."

"They certainly do," Munkustrap sighed wearily. "Poor Electra… poor Plato, poor Mistoffelees…"

"I never would have expected Macavity to act in the way he did." Deuteronomy sounded unusually distressed. "I truly trusted him to be better than that."

"I didn't," Munkustrap hissed angrily. "Father, don't you remember what he did to us? What he did to Tugger?"

Deuteronomy winced. "How could I forget? But Macavity has done good things as well. You cannot understand what he has gone through, son."

"I am no magic cat. How could I?" Munkustrap's voice was cold. "But he's bad, Father. I thought that it was just his magic, and that was always his excuse. But then why, why would he kill Victoria?"

"I do not know," Deuteronomy replied simply. Helplessly.

The two fell into silence, and Jemima fidgeted impatiently. What were they talking about? It wasn't as if she could just burst in and ask. They'd be angry. She'd have to wait a while before she could enter – that way, they wouldn't suspect her of eavesdropping.

Finally, she sauntered in as if she'd only just arrived. "Oh, Munkustrap, Deuteronomy!" She curtseyed and Deuteronomy smiled warmly at her.

"Good afternoon, Jemima. What brings you here?"

"I wanted to speak to Munkustrap." She lowered her eyes hesitantly, biting her lip. Here came the hard part. Hopefully, her young charm would erase any suspicions they were about to have.

"Why?" Munkustrap sounded intrigued. He patted the ground next to him and Jemima sat down, brushing away the dust.

"About… Macavity," she whispered.

"What? Have you seen him?" Munkustrap took hold of Jemima's shoulders and looked at her seriously. "Has he returned to the Junkyard?"

"No, no, nothing like that!" Jemima said quickly, her voice high-pitched. Munkustrap breathed a sigh of relief and released her shoulders.

"Then…what? What do you want to know?" He regarded her with narrow eyes. Deuteronomy watched from up on the wall, whiskers twitching.

"I… I…" Jemima broke down into wracking sobs. It wasn't a difficult act to put on. After all, she really did miss Victoria. A lot. "Oh… Victoria…" She sobbed into her paws.

Munkustrap sighed and wrapped a comforting arm around Jemima's small torso. "I'm sorry, Jemima."

"I just…why her? Why Victoria? I don't even know anything about Macavity. I just… I need to know." Jemima smiled inwardly. She was doing well. Victoria… soon, we'll find him. Soon, we'll kill him.

"I guess I can understand," Munkustrap said wearily, stroking the fur on Jemima's head. "Are you sure you want to know about him? It isn't pleasant…"

"Munkustrap, you should tell her," Deuteronomy put in. His eyes held a warning, though. He was warning Munkustrap not to tell too much. "Go, now. I'd like some time to think…" With that, he closed his eyes and gave a long sigh.

"Come on, Jemima." Munkustrap led Jemima away from the vicarage wall in the direction of the Junkyard. He paused at the outskirts and glanced at her.

"We'd better stop here. It wouldn't be good if everyone overheard…" His eyes darkened, and suddenly, he clutched at his chest, breathing heavily.

"Munkustrap?" Jemima gasped, grabbing the Jellicle Protector's arm. He shook his head, his breathing raspy and labored.

"I'm okay," he said softly. "I'm fine. I… wasn't expecting that…"

She regarded him nervously. "What's wrong, Munkustrap?"

He shook his head again. "Please don't mention it to anyone," he said firmly.

"Only if you tell me what's wrong!"

Munkustrap glared at the calico queen for a moment before sighing and rubbing his forehead. "Fine."

"Shall I just go to Demeter without her?"

"That'd probably be the best thing, Misto."

Plato and Misto sat together, staring gloomily at the corner Electra had disappeared around.

"I don't want to go without her, Plato," Misto whispered, his teeth gritted. "What if she doesn't come back to us? You know we don't have a hope of approaching Macavity without her."

"She'll come back," Plato said grimly. "Just… not to you." He said those words with a sympathetic finality, and Misto let out an agonized whimper.

"I'm so sorry, Electra…"

"Tugger, Macavity and I were born as littermates. I'm sure you already know that, but I doubt you know much about our kitten-hood." Munkustrap pressed his lips into a hard line, and Jemima took his paw quietly to comfort him. She was good at comforting other cats.

"Macavity was to become Jellicle Protector. It was decided a month after our birth."

Jemima gasped and covered her mouth with a paw. Macavity, Jellicle Protector? She couldn't fathom the idea.

"He was the only one cut out for it, really. Tugger just wasn't suited to the job, and even though I was, I wasn't in the best condition… Macavity never did want to, but he went along with it. He used to be a very agreeable tom. I looked up to him." Munkustrap frowned sadly. "How things changed…"

I can hardly believe what he's telling me…

"But I barely spent any time with my brothers. That's why I'm so different to them. I never had a true kitten-hood, really. I never had… fun…" His eyes grew distant, and Jemima squeezed his paw gently, urging him to continue. "I was too sick, you see. Deuteronomy asked that Jellylorum take me into her den. I was too sick to remain under his supervision any longer. I needed treatment of a more expert kind."

"Munkustrap, what's wrong with you?" Jemima asked, biting her lip.

He shook his head grimly. "No one knows. I had it bad when I was a kitten, but it's getting better… otherwise, I wouldn't have the position I have now in the tribe. I have to keep it quiet, Jemima. Otherwise I'll lose everything I've worked for in my life." He looked crestfallen at the idea.

"I'm sorry, Munkustrap." Jemima narrowed her eyes. "How can you be Protector while you're so sick, though?"

"I'm not that sick," Munkustrap insisted stubbornly. Jemima recalled the moment when he'd doubled over, gasping for breath and clutching at his chest. It'd looked pretty bad to her. "When I was a kitten, I was always weak. I'd sometimes get attacks that would give me a terrible pain just here." He placed a paw on his chest. "These days, it only happens occasionally. But every time, afterwards, I feel like I can hardly move." He squeezed his eyes shut.

"You can't keep being Protector, Munkustrap!" Jemima said frantically.

"Of course I can." Munkustrap frowned at the calico queen. "Why not?" And then, something inside of him seemed to collapse. "Because I'm a danger to the tribe…" he said softly, under his breath. "Because if something happens, and I have an attack then the entire tribe will be in danger…"

"Yes," Jemima nodded, eyes fearful. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"There are risks to be taken in life, Jemima. I'll get better. I worked for this… for Deuteronomy's sake. When Macavity went crazy, I became the only choice."

"There's always Alonzo…"

Munkustrap shook his head. "It's a tradition that a son of the Jellicle Leader becomes Protector, Jemima."

"But that's stupid!" Jemima said hotly. "And why not Tugger?"

"Jemima, you have to understand… I want to be Jellicle Protector. I wanted the job. I worked for it; I'm now the strongest tom in the tribe. I can't let some petty sickness stop me." His eyes hardened, and Jemima balked. There was no way to deter him from his job. He was utterly devoted.

"Anyway, enough about me. Didn't you want to know about Macavity?"

"Yeah… I suppose so." Jemima was so wrapped up in concern for the Jellicle Protector that she'd almost forgotten about the red tom. "Why did he not become Jellicle Protector?"

Munkustrap's brow furrowed. "This is difficult to explain, Jemima. Let me think." After a moment, he sighed. "I guess it's time," he muttered reluctantly. "Jemima, do you remember what happened on the night Victoria died? Do you remember how Macavity and Plato…?" He trailed off, apparently unable to find the words to describe it.

"Yes, of course I do." Jemima closed her eyes, recalling the battle between the two toms. "They have powers, don't they? Macavity, Plato… Misto, Coricopat, Tantomile. They're all different from the rest of us Jellicles."

Munkustrap's lips turned up in a wry smile. "Very perceptive, Jemima. Yes, they're what we call 'magic cats'. You may think that they're lucky to have been born as such, correct?"

"Well… yes. They are, aren't they? Imagine being like Misto…" Jemima trailed off dreamily. Misto was amazing when he had lightning sparking from his paws. Some of his magic tricks were phenomenal.

"You're wrong," Munkustrap stated blandly.

"Huh?"

"Magic is a curse to most cats."

"A curse?" Jemima echoed.

"You see, powerful magic is a rare but powerful thing. In Jellicle blood, however, it occurs more often. All cats have magic to an extent, but we Jellicles have more of it. That's why we have so many magic cats. That's why we can sing and dance and have the Jellicle Ball. Other cats, they don't do that. They lack in magic."

"Am I…magic?"

"You possess much more magic than the normal cat." Munkustrap looked upon her fondly. "But you are not like Plato or Misto. You're lucky. You see, too much magic is too much for a cat to handle. We aren't that strong. A magic cat will be able to handle the magic for a short span of their lives, but their bodies will not be able to contain such power for too long. Most magic cats fade in the middle of their adulthood." Munkustrap's eyes were deadly serious.

Jemima stared at him in horror. "So Plato… Misto… they never had a chance at living past their adulthood?"

"That's where it gets complicated." Munkustrap sighed heavily. "I'm not at liberty to tell you why, but Misto and Plato did have a chance. They could've lived for much longer. But now, I'm afraid, they're already losing control."

"Why?" Jemima's voice rose in desperation.

"I can't tell you," Munkustrap said helplessly. "I'd like to, but I can't."

Jemima stared at the ground. "What about Macavity, then?" she asked finally. "Is that why he was so isolated?"

Munkustrap nodded. "His magic prevented him from coming close to others."

"…I feel sorry for him," Jemima admitted, her eyes shining with pity. "It must be a terrible burden."

Munkustrap stared at her in surprise. "You're a good kitten, Jemima," he said finally. "But maybe you're too kind for your own good."

Etcetera left Tugger feeling as if she'd really overlooked his past. There was so much she hadn't known about him! She promised herself that she wouldn't be so clueless from then on.

She wondered if anyone else was done talking to their 'assigned' cat. Eventually, she stumbled across Plato and Misto, who were both conversing quietly. Misto looked forlorn for some reason. Blinking, Etcetera approached them.

"Hey guys," she greeted, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. "Didya talk to Demeter and Bombalurina?"

Misto looked up, startled. Plato headed over to Etcetera, his eyes sharp with emotion. "No," he replied simply. "I'm sorry, Etcetera. We were… distracted." His lips came together in a thin line, and Misto's eyes dulled even further.

"Oh." Etcetera's brow crinkled in confusion and worry, but she decided to keep quiet. It was frustrating; she hated keeping quiet. It seemed that she was having to do a lot more of it though now that Victoria was gone…

Just then, Jemima ran towards them. "You'll never believe what Munkustrap told me!" she called breathlessly. Then, her eyes fell upon Plato's grim expression. "Plato?...Misto?"

Neither tom said anything. When Jemima looked questioningly at Etcetera, the tabby queen just shrugged.

"Where's Electra?" Jemima asked finally, noticing the absence of the dark tabby queen. Misto made a choked noise at the sound of her name.

"She just went for a walk," Plato said coolly. "She wanted some alone time. Jemima, would you accompany Misto while he talks to Demeter?" He smirked slightly, his expression cold. "I don't think he can go alone."

"Um, okay," Jemima nodded nervously.

"C'mon Etcy," Plato sighed, lightly taking the tabby's paw. Silently, the pair walked away.

"Misto, are you okay?" Jemima asked the tuxedo tom quietly.

"…Just fine," he said curtly after a while. Jemima studied him anxiously – he did seem fine. That was, until she looked into his eyes.

In his usually bright eyes, thousands of shadows writhed, haunting the tom to his very soul.

"Plato, what's wrong with Misto? And Electra?" Etcetera was on the verge of whining. But Plato never responded. He just held her paw limply and kept moving, his eyes staring straight ahead. Etcetera eventually lapsed into silence, feeling uncomfortable.

There was apparently something wrong with Plato as well.

"Misto… is this about your magic?" Jemima asked the tuxedo tom in a low voice. His head shot up.

"How do you know about that?" he hissed, looking almost angry. Almost. The thing was, Misto was never angry. He just wasn't that kind of cat.

"Munkustrap told me," she explained. "He told me not to tell anyone else what he told me… but I figure that you already know, since you're a magic cat…" She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, Misto."

"Do you know… everything?" he questioned, eyes doubtful.

"Well, I think so… wait… he said there was one thing he wasn't at liberty to tell me."

"Of course," Misto murmured. "He wouldn't give away that secret all that easily."

"What secret?" Jemima's voice was sharp with intrigue.

Misto shook his head, a sad smile twisting his lips. "I'm not really at liberty to tell you either. I'm sorry…" His eyes darkened, and the shadows thrashed within them. "The Jellicles have a lot of secrets concerning magic."

He sat silently for a while, and Jemima watched him with wide eyes. "I can't believe I've been so oblivious," she whispered.

Misto glanced at her with sharp eyes. "You're lucky, Jemima… so don't go and find out anything more than what you already have, okay?"

"Why? I want to know!" Jemima persisted, narrowing her eyes.

Misto glared coldly at her, and she recoiled in shock and fear. "Misto…?" she breathed. He wasn't acting himself.

"Don't pursue it, okay? Magic… it's a terrible thing." With that, he vanished into thin air.

"Wait! Misto!" Jemima cried, clutching at the space where he'd just been. But he was gone. Making a noise of annoyance, she sat down again. "What am I meant to do now…?"

"Jemima? Is that you?"

Jemima glanced up in surprise as a tom's voice intruded on her thoughts. He slunk towards her, eyes shining at the very sight of her.

"Um, hello," she murmured, a little bit uncomfortable. It'd been so long since she'd spoken to him… she was unused to his company.

He didn't seem deterred, though. Lips quirked in a smile, he approached her. Jemima had forgotten just how handsome he was… "It's been a while, Jemima," he smirked, taking her paw and kissing it lightly. She rolled her eyes. Sometimes, his attitude was too much for her.

"Yeah, well, I have places to be going," she said quickly, pulling away. He frowned at her.

"Have you been avoiding me?" he asked, his voice low. "She never meant anything to me… you know that."

"Well, you know what? Just like she never meant anything to you, you mean nothing to me. I've got better things to do than talk to you. Goodbye." She ripped her paw from his grasp and stalked away, her eyes fiery with anger. She hated him, she did, she did.

She would never forgive him.

A/N: I know that a lot of you are interested in Munkustrap's sickness, but it's only a tiny subplot that'll be mentioned once later in the plot. At least, that's what I have planned.