Zela looked up at Marceth, who looked positively ecstatic. She chuckled quietly and led him back to Misto's cell. The tuxedo tom gave her a look of uncertainty, but eventually, he loosened up as Marcetheus began to unravel a descriptive narrative of everything he had seen. The most important thing about that story was the only thing Zela was concerned about. Jerrie was alive…

~^..^~

It was the smallest population in the meeting den since the beginning of the Jellicle tribe. Tugger didn't know much about how the tribe meetings went ever, since he was the one who barely ever went to one. But this one was demanded on him; not by his silver tabby brother, but by himself. Tugger knew he had to start concerning himself with the things going on in the tribe. And so far, without both their leaders, things weren't going great.

The meeting den of the Jellicles was as empty as it had ever been. Normally, the kits wouldn't be allowed during a meeting like this, but considering the residence in the Junkyard was decreasing in health, it was better to let them in. Alonzo was the one who had called the meeting, so he, Cassandra, and their squeaking, happy kit, Vitalee came first to the meeting.

Bomba was still being mildly casual about everything. Though a fool could tell she was shaken up. Tugger hadn't spoken to Bomba ever since their argument about Zela. He was willing to keep it that way, and she didn't seem opposed to the idea either. Teazer had been much better company to him, which was hopefully why she sat next to him on the meeting den. The circumstances they were under were progressing as a better friendship between them. Tugger could tell they were both growing up now, especially during this crucial time for the Jellicles.

The last of those small kittens who had once adored him were the pregnant Victoria, in a depressive and angered state, along with her sister, Electra. Both queens never looked more serious than they were now. From the loss of her mate and her parents, Victoria was no long the sweet, innocent little queen that everyone knew and loved. She had turned into something more dark and sad. It was a cleaner version of Grizabella. Tugger sighed, watching the sisters seat themselves across from him.

Teazer's eyes moved toward the entrance, "Well ain't that an interestin' soight…" she murmured to turned his head, noticing a feeble, shaking, old tom being led inside by the large Bustopher Jones and timely Skimbleshanks. They sat down carefully by the ground.

The Maine Coon blinked curiously. "Wow…" he murmured, "I wouldn't have expected Gus to survive this."

"An' yet, 'e did…" Teazer breathed. After a moment, the long silence ended with the light pawsteps of Coricopat and Tantomile, never missing a beat as they swiftly walked to their places. Tugger almost felt sorry for them, their healing powers growing weaker the more they used them. Yet if they didn't, Plato or Etcetera would be the first victims of this virus. It was only a matter of time until they would have no more power left to give.

And there it was; the left over tribe members. Ten cats, one only a kit who could barely form words. Vitalee let out a small squeal, which seemed to put the meeting into a brighter mood. Cassandra gently shushed her kit and held her close to her waist. Alonzo, who had taken the place where Old Deuteronomy once sat, commenced the meeting.

"This is getting out of control," he began tiredly, "And I know you all know this…What has been going on in our tribe is drastic, and we barely have anything left to defend ourselves with… As you all know, both our leaders, both caretakers, and two powerful mystics are no longer of use to us… Rescuing Mistoffelees is next to impossible at this moment… And so we only have a few options left, because soon our tribe will reach death and near extinctions…

"So what do we do? Soon, the antibiotics we're using will no longer be of use, Tantomile and Coricopat will be too weak to help them. No offense, my friends. And as of now, even though Mistoffelees gave us the mystery of his notes, we have no cure." Alonzo sighed softly and closed his eyes, "I have only one solution in mind, and none of you will like it."

A few cats, Teazer and Tugger including, leaned in to hear the new tribe leader's words. Alonzo looked up at the wary eyes around him, sorrow deepening itself in his look, "…The only way to ensure this tribe's survival is if we leave the Junkyard, and leave the rest behind."

There was immediate outrage. Bombalurina shot up out of her seat, "We cannot leave them here to die!" she spat.

"They are our family, Alonzo!" Skimbleshanks bellowed, "I will not leave my mate, dying or no. If we are truly loyal Jellicles, then we will either help our fellow Jellicles survive, or we will die with them.
Cassandra gave Skimble a glare, "And risk the life of more children dying? " she said, her stare moving down to Vitalee, who was confused with the tension in the room, "It's fight or flight, Skimbleshanks, and we can no longer fight this!"

Skimble glared, "My children are dying, Cassandra! And yours will not! She's a bloody Mystic!"

Alonzo stood up out of his seat, trying to collect the anger in the den, "Listen! Listen to me, please. Now, I know this isn't an ideal plan. Our leaders are here, and our families are here. Skimble, I would never want to impose on your judgment. So I don't blame you for not wanting to leave. Bomba, you have Demeter to watch out for. Tugger, you have Munkustrap and Deuteronomy. The list goes on… But my friends, I have a family that needs help. I want my child not to live in this misery… Please don't get the idea that I want to abandon anyone, but I care too much for Cassandra and my daughter to put them in harm's way."

The silence seemed to drag on and on. It wasn't for a few minutes until Teazer stood up, "Alonzo," she spoke softly, "…Everyone that Oi love is gone… And all I have is whot's lef' ta this troibe. So if you are ta go… then Oi'll accompany you."

Tugger looked at Teazer, his only companion, the only one he could really trust. If she left, he would have no way to cope. He had successfully lost the love of his life, no longer had a reason to stay in the Junkyard. Everyone he loved was dying. He stood up himself, "I'll come to."

Teazer looked at him sharply, "Tugger, no!"

"Everyone I love is dying, Teazer…" Tugger muttered, "I can't do anything for them."

Alonzo looked between them before standing on his feet, "Listen, I'm not asking you all to just get up and leave as well! Skimble, you made your position quite clear to me."

Skimble nodded gruffly. Alonzo sighed and continued, "And you know if we had any way to decipher what Misto wrote, we could figure out everything."

With a scoff, Bomba leaned back in her seat. "It'd be better if Misto was actually around to tell us…" she mused.

"Agreed," Victoria's small, yet strained voice said.

The den fell silent for a few moments with Victoria's one word affection the tense mood between the bickering Jellicles. Maybe it wasn't her word that moved them, but that it was the first thing she had said during this meeting. Victoria was one of the many that went through Hell and back. But her hell was much worse. Besides her younger sister and an irresponsible Uncle Tugger, Victoria didn't have anyone left to take care of her; and she still had kits coming. If they were going to leave the Junkyard, Victoria would have some of the best reasons to join them.

The silence lingered on, until a soft, dusty mumbling was heard. Heads gently started to turn over to Old Gus, who was fiddling with his paws, mumbled something quietly. Alonzo leaned forward slightly, "What is that, Gus?"

Gus turned his head up, the blindness in his eyes staring up at the ceiling. "There is no power left in the Junkyard…" he wheezed in his shriveled voice, "But there are ways to gain power back. And the only way now is to fight back…"

Alonzo sighed and rubbed his face with his paw, "Gus, we can't just fight. There aren't many of us left that can do something like that. We can't go into a battle!"

The told tom's pale eyes moved and focused on the source of Alonzo's voice. "Not a battle. Not violence. The best way to move a rock out of your way is to move yourself around it. If you want to fight off this mad disease, you must avoid it yourself. "

Alonzo rolled his eyes, "What do you think we've been doing, Gus?" He got a few glares from everyone. No one yelled at Gus like that, no matter how in-trouble the tribe was in.

Gus shook his head gently, "You are blinded, Alonzo, because, like many, you are afraid. That is why you wish to run. But the cowardly will gain no satisfaction in their lives… not even in security." It took him a few minutes to regain his breath as he started coughing hysterically. If it wasn't for the fact that everyone knew Old Gus had deteriorating health, they would all assume the disease was coming over him as well. Gus looked up again, his features wary, "Dark powers are rising. And the proper thing to do is not to give into cowardly instincts. In Fight or flight, a Jellicle will fight until his last breath, so was agreed by the first leaders long ago. If you do not stay in the fight, then you are no longer a Jellicle."

Tugger smacked his forehead, "Gus, how are we supposed to fight them when there's no one to help us?"

Gus stared at Tugger blankly. "Then search for the one that will help you! Get one out, you get the other out… You all know the only one who can save us must be brought back."

Alonzo rolled his eyes, "Impossible! No one can simply walk into Macavity's domain and expect to be handed his prisoner!"

The old tom stared at Alonzo before sighing, "You undermine the possibilities, Alonzo…" he muttered in a hoarse voice. He went into another coughing fit, and stopped speaking.

This left the new bi-colored leader perplexed, and also had a debate spark between tribe members. The confusion and tension was simply growing larger. Yet as the bickering carried on, Tugger knew he was carrying something from Gus's words. The only reason they thought getting into Macavity's grounds was impossible was because no one had successfully done so yet. If he could be that one person to find Misto... then there would be no need to leave. The cure would be here. The tribe would be saved… but how to do it was the key. Tugger remembered the first time he tried to get into the Warehouse. He didn't even make it past the gate before being attacked by his ginger brother. Obviously, this was going to take a little planning, but Gus was right. Sneaking in and stealing Mistoffelees back wasn't impossible. Someone just needed the courage to do it.

Silently, Tugger glanced over at Teazer and whispered that he was leaving and would be back a little later. He had a new confidence in himself, and it would be better to try this alone. Though he realized he didn't take in the consequences of failure, and being alone in this would increase his risk of being caught. Sighing quietly, Tugger decided that he was going to risk this as well as everything else. Leaving the fight of the Den Meeting behind, the Maine Coon slid out of the Junkyard, heading for the west end of London….

~^..^~

"How can you stand being without magic so long?" Misto inquired, a frustration coming over him has his left paw occasionally twitched. He was itching to use magic, yet he couldn't. There wasn't a time he tried that he wasn't shocked with thousands of energy bolts. And there didn't seem to be a way out of this dreadful place unless they got Mungo free.

Zela just grinned at him, "One learns to live without it in spare time. Besides, I've been practicing it with my father."

Their latest idea to escape was as thin as air, though. For two powerful mystics that simply didn't have use of their telepathy, escape wasn't too difficult to accomplish. The trick was bringing Jerrie and the cure with them without Macavity causing repercussions.

Marceth was beginning his first day of training with the Interrogators. Hopefully, he'd be back, and maybe she'd be able to convince him to come with. Misto had already explained that it would be hard for him to transition to another home, especially since he spent his whole life at the Warehouse. But Zela knew she could make it work. It would just take a little time, and eventually, Marceth would grow to like the Junkyard. And Demeter would like him, surely. Munkustrap may be iffy to let a henchcat in the tribe, but he would come around eventually when he knew how in love she was with Marceth. Everything would be perfect once a concrete plan was put into place.

"How about this," she began, sitting right outside of Misto's cell, "Marceth will take Jerrie back from an interrogation. That way, Marceth can bring him here, we transfer out of here, and you create the cure for the tribe!"

Misto stared at her for a second, than stared down at the floor of his den. "Nah... Macavity would easily be able to detect that. We'd have to sneak out of here without magic."

"But that's a worse idea! Henchcats are literally crawling around his territory! There's barely a soul that can get past the gate without being taken to Macavity."

Misto thought about that for a moment, "Maybe so… but didn't Macavity say that there's a mental shield for the Warehouse? He never said anything about outside of it…"

The gold-red queen stared at her friend before grinning largely. "We get outside, and that will give us enough time to perform a transference spell. We'll get back to the Junkyard without Macavity even detecting us!"

The idea was suddenly forming into a great plan, but Mist suddenly frowned. "… What's going to stop Macavity from attacking the 'yard again, Zela? All he needs to do is alter his poison, and the same thing could happen again… Only this time, he could kill us…"

"Then… we need to destroy what he developed," Zela decided, "He showed me where he keeps the brewing of that vile toxin… We destroy that, and then it would break his spirit. He wouldn't attack us for a long time."

At first, Misto wasn't sure what to think about that, but he just grinned after a moment and nodded tentatively. "Maybe…" he murmured. The gold-red queen didn't have to read his mind to know what he was thinking. Destroying his work could break Macavity's spirit… but it could also make him angrier. It was a risk, but if it meant escape from her psychotic father, Zela was willing to take it.

"Good, so it's a simple plan. Marceth brings Jerrie to the Cells, after I leave my next lesson, I go into his toxin chemistry room and destroy it, then we run out of this hellhole like its on fire!" She was feeling excited now. After weeks of torture, they were finally going to go home. She inhaled sharply and wrapped her arms over her stomach. "Everything will be good again…"

"Zela… I hate to burst your bubble, but we do have one more problem." Misto looked at her glumly before looking down at his lap, "We still need to convince Marcetheus to stay on our side. He seems… very tentative about betraying his boss…"

Zela sighed and leaned back against the bars of his cell. "He'll help us, Misto. Trust me."

Misto smoothed his paw through one of the bars and put it on her shoulder, "Zela, I want to have confidence in you right now, but Marceth is… Well, he's nice, but he's not… What I'm trying to say is that… he's too… unpredictable."

"Unpredictable?" she repeated, swiveling his head towards her best friend, "He's my mate! I know he's going to be okay with this, and he will leave my father for me, if he loves me." The gold-red queen purred gently as she thought about living with Marceth in the Junkyard… There would be some initial awkwardness… but it would be amazing soon enough. "I love him, Misto… Don't spoil that for me…"

"…I just don't want you to get your hopes… too high… Zela, I wanted to tell you this before, but there's something about Marceth… something… Mystical."

The gold-red queen blinked and stared at her friend in confusion. "Mystical? … Misto, what are you saying? That he might be…a…?"

But yet again, they didn't get to finish that conversation. At that very moment, Marceth's keys were rustling outside of the cell door before it opened. In a matter of moments, Marceth came in, dragging a dirty, bleeding Maine Coon by the pelt.

Zela shot up into a standing position, her eyes wide with confusion. It couldn't be. What was he doing here? "Tugger!" She cried, quickly storming over to the two toms, "Marceth, let him go!"

Marceth looked at her curiously, "…Zela… this tom was found wandering around the gates! And your dad was very firm with me to get him to a cell immediately… said he was dangerous."

The gold-red queen growled and rolled her eyes, "Haven't you noticed he's said that about every Jellicle he's captured? Let go of him! He's… he's the other tom, Marceth."

Marceth stared at her, "'Other tom?'… Oh… The other tom before me…"

Zela paused when he quickly fell silent. She sighed, and gave him a gentle nod. It was definitely more of an awkward moment for them. Marceth carelessly dropped Tugger on the floor and walked back to his chair. The gold-red queen gave her mate a slight hiss before going to help Tugger. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him up on her lap. He was unconscious, for one thing. His handsome features seemed… worn out. It was much worse, seeing him all cut up and bruised. Macavity's scent was around him, along with henchcat. She let out a low growl as her brow furrowed. He had been cruelly abused, just as Misto had been. "What's supposed to happen to him?" she asked quietly to Marceth.

Marceth glanced at her before staring down at the ground, clutching his paw regretfully. "…Macavity wants to send him to torture… then death within the week."

The gold-red queen gasped. No. This was his brother. Macavity wouldn't do this to his own brother. But then again, Macavity hated most Junkyard cats. It wasn't a surprise he wanted to kill Tugger. It was another way to wound her spirit. She looked up at her tortoiseshell mate, desperate pleading in her eyes. "We need to get out of here, Marceth, and we need your help."

Marceth's gold eyes slowly moved toward her. His looks almost seemed sympathetic toward her. Maybe he would do this. Maybe Misto was wrong. Even with Tugger in the picture, Marceth would not fail her. But before he said anything in response, Zela felt the Maine Coon stir in her arms lightly. She looked down, seeing his deep, auburn eyes open, comfort swarming in them. "Zela…" he wheezed, "Love…"

The gold-red queen was so surprised by his sudden awakening that she didn't know Marceth suddenly fuming with hatred and jealousy. Zela glanced at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. What was wrong with him? "Marceth…"

He didn't say a word to her. Instead, he picked Tugger up by the mane, threw his close-fisted paw back, and punched him hard in the jaw. "You stay away from my mate!"

~^..^~

In the smaller rooms of the Warehouse, Macavity was playing a higher ranked henchcat at a nice, friendly game of Billiards. This tom's name was Gillion, and the Hidden Paw almost treated him like an equal. If anyone could beat him in a game of Billiards at least once, then he was alright to Macavity.

The ginger tom glanced at the brown tabby before he lined up his shot with the striped 11ball. He quickly drew his cue stick back, and then applied the force over the cue ball. In one shot, the 11 ball lightly struck the striped 10 ball and sunk it into the pocket. In another second, the 11 ball followed into another pocket. Macavity smirked and stood at his full height, his smug look directed towards Gillion. The brown tabby snorted, "Nice carom, Boss. However, your ass will be kicked in the end. No one does those shots and gets away with it in the end."

Macavity just snorted and went to see where he could make his next move. "Keep telling yourself that, Gillion. Next thing you know, the eight ball is going to be stuffed down your throat."

Gillion rolled his eyes, but slightly smirked, "Sure thing, Mac."

As Macavity went to line up his next shot, his eye caught sight over a jet-black tom, and pure white queen. Macavity chuckled and leaned up again, setting his cue stick down on the Billiards table. "Looks like I'll have to finish your ass-kicking after this meeting, Gillion. If you would, please leave us."

The brown tabby glanced between his boss and his two agents. He nodded, seeming annoyed by the fact that he would have to work again, but reluctantly, he left the room, leaving Macavity alone with his agents. The ginger tom smirked walking up toward them. "Ah, Wynestelle and Cesaro. Please, sit down. I'd like to congratulate you on your success in Kingsten."

The ginger tom quickly sat down in a chair, waiting impatiently for his agents to take a seat across from him on the couch. He had known for a long time that the two of them were very talkative when he wasn't around, though he tried not to think of it that much, since they were quiet when he wanted them to be.

"I'm glad you could both come to see me," Macavity commented. Not that they had much of a choice, "And I must commemorate you both for directing Zelaphelia back to me."

They both nodded, and they both also stayed silent from that. The ginger tom smirked at them, "You two seem nervous for pleasing your boss," he observed.

Wynestelle glanced up at him before staring back down at her feet. "You see, we've been talking, Sir…"

Macavity stared at them curiously. What on Earth could they possibly be thinking about that was important enough to bring up in front of him? "About what?" he asked, actually curious.

Cesaro looked at his boss quietly, "Wynestelle and I would like to retire from your services…"

Macavity gaze didn't move for a moment before turning into a slight glare. Not many cats told him this, unless they had some sort of death wish. No one left his services until he said they could. "Excuse me, my employees, but under what circumstances gives you the right to sell yourselves out of my Empire? Did I not do everything for you and that pathetic boy of yours?" The ginger tom stood up, now looking more frightening, "Give me one good reason not rip both your throats out right now…" He hissed, taking a step towards them.

Wynestelle pressed herself against the couch, whimpering quietly, "Sir… we have a payment we can give you in our place…"

That stopped his anger, and suddenly made him even more curious and confused. "Really? Payment… Well then, we may still have something to talk about don't we? What kind of payment?"

Cesaro leaned forward, slightly grinning at his boss as there was no longer any fear in his eyes. "Our son."

"… What kind of payment would that be?" Macavity muttered. Marcetheus was truly nothing to him but his new interrogator. He was less than dirt.

Wynestelle suddenly gained bits of her backbone as she leaned by her mate. "There is something about us that we have not told you sir… We thought you might… well… find us more of a threat. You see, my family's side had mystic blood…"

Macavity stared at them, but then nodded, acting as though he was more patient than he felt. "Go on…"

Cesaro continued for his mate, "Her family's blood is in our boy. Marcetheus is a mystic… We never said anything, since he didn't show until he was a kit… so we kept his powers hidden from him… demeaned him as best we could so he wouldn't have any scourge of his emotions…"

"So…" Macavity began, "You both kept this thought from me, thinking it would spare your own lives? I think I can see what I hired you for…" The ginger tom leaned back, suddenly growing an interest in the extra mystic in his Warehouse. "So, what can your boy do, then? Or don't you know?"

They both stared down at their feet. "Marceth can… drain energy," Wynestelle murmured quietly, "More specifically, from other mystics."

Macavity raised an eyebrow. "What brought you to that conclusion, then?"

"When we first came here, you examined him as a young kit, made him cry, then you fell asleep after you gave him back to Wyne… We took that as a yes that we were hired…"

Macavity's eyes widened as he suddenly recalled that memory. He had forgotten about that, actually. He took one look at the squealing kit before practically being knocked out. "Only on Mystics, you say…" he murmured, a sudden smirk overcoming his face. Maybe that worthless tom wasn't as useless as he had first made him. He turned his head back to them, suddenly glaring again. "One mystical cat is not enough for your payment. I would be losing two agents, and would also be letting you get away with your treachery…" He hissed and stood up again, walking towards them.

Cesaro's eyes dilated in fear, "Sir, please, no!"

"I will allow… only one of you to leave my services. The other stays here, under my protection… I almost think I would prefer the boy's mother, though…"

Wynestelle stared at Macavity, both in fear and anxiety before looking at her mate in desperation. Obviously, she was not happy with his arrangement. Cesaro, being the coward Macavity first made him out to be, quickly stood up and walked around the couch. "Take her!" he cried.

The white queen looked back at him sharply, "Saro! You bastard!"

Macavity smirked at that. "No, no, no, Wynestelle. Trust me; this is a very brave move for your cowardly mate."

They both looked at him with looks of surprise. "What is that supposed to mean?" Cesaro said hesitantly.

Macavity smirk, "It means, as of now, you're not longer under my protection."

With a low growl, the Hidden Paw leaped forward over the couch, and tackled the jet-black tom to the ground. "This is the fate of traitors, my ex-agent," Macavity hissed. Before Cesaro could react, or even try to defend himself, Macavity quickly peeled away at the skin on his throat, slicing through the vein by his neck slowly until the light left the pathetic tom's eyes. The blood came gushing from his throat repulsively. Macavity stood up and kicked the lifeless body away from him. Wynestelle let out a scream, now completely petrified of what the ginger tom was going to do with her. The ginger tom smirked at her lustfully as he leaned forward against couch and lightly ran his bloody claws by her face, leaving the blood stains on her white fur. "Come, my dear Wynestelle. We need to discuss some… options for you, now that your mate is…deceased."

He ignored the tears on her face as she cried in pure, emotional agony. He grabbed hold of her scrawny pelt and dragged her down to his bedroom, quickly throwing her on the ground. Now that she was an ex-agent as well, there was only one good use for her, and he was going to make that clear as water to her. "Get on that bed, Wynestelle and lie still…"

~^..^~

A/N: O.o How mean of Macavity, right? Don't feel too bad for them, though. They did betray our main character. ;) Anyway, I just wanted to say Hi! I know, I know, I took a long while to finish this chapter. To be fair, I have finals for three days next week. But I promise everyone, that once school ends for me, I'll be finishing this story over the summer. ;) Thanks, all!