Last revised: 9/13/15

Chapter One

"And that's how you address a caaaaaaaaaat!"

A loud, whooping cheer rang out across the Junkyard as the Jellicle Ball came to an end. Cats ran to embrace one another, some laughing, others crying tears of joy. It was a night none of them would ever forget.

Quaxo stumbled and laughed as his sister threw herself about his neck, spinning about him like a hula hoop. "I can't believe it!" she squealed. "Oh, Quaxo, I never dreamed tonight would be so wonderful!"

"Me neither, Vicky," he replied. He peeked over her shoulder. "Uh-oh! Looks like Jelly's already trying to drag Electra and Etcetera home. You'd better run and say goodbye!"

"Oh!" Victoria quickly jumped off of him and took of running. "Lectie! Cettie! Wait!"

Quaxo chuckled as he watched her go, feeling a swell of pride at her graceful gait. He still couldn't believe it. His sweet sister was officially a queen now. When he looked at her, he still expected to see that snowy white ball of fluff he used to snuggle up next to in their shared sleeping basket.

But now – just look at her! So beautiful. So elegant. So grown-up. When she performed her Coming of Age dance beneath the light of the full moon, every step, every stretch of her limbs had been sheer perfection. Victoria had taken everyone's breath away as she passed from kittenhood to queenhood before their eyes. She had truly been one of the shining stars of the Ball tonight.

Just then a tall, redheaded tom came bounding up to Victoria as she extracted her arms from about Etcetera's neck. The tom rubbed his head affectionately against the snowy queen's, earning himself a giggle, a warm blush and a fluttering of eyelashes.

Quaxo groaned inwardly. Now that was something he was still trying to get his mind around.

"Hey." A hard smack came at Quaxo's shoulder from behind, followed by a sultry tenor voice in his ear. "You really worked that magic back there, buddy. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Quaxo growled under his breath as he turned right into the smug face of the Rum Tum Tugger. That irritation he'd swallowed down earlier came roaring back with a vengeance. "Yeah, Tugger, about that ..."

"Oh, Mr. Mistoffelees!"

Before Quaxo could turn around, the gumby cat Jennyanydots grabbed him, lifted him up and crushed him in a hug so tight it squeezed the air right out of his lungs.

"Well done, young tomkit!" she exclaimed. "Thank Heavyside you were there to bring our dear Old Deuteronomy back from the clutches of that horrible Macavity. What ever would we have done without you, you marvelous cat, you!"

Quaxo laughed uneasily. "I-It was nothing, Jenny, really. I ..."

"Oh, and so humble, too! Good on you." Jenny placed Quaxo back onto the ground only to grab his cheeks and pinch them hard. "You certainly could learn a thing or two from this one, Tugger."

The Maine Coon chuckled and threw his arm about Quaxo's shoulders. "On the contrary, my dear Jennyanydots, I taught this one everything he knows."

Quaxo gritted his teeth. "Really, Tugger, you're so full of ..."

"Ah! Quaxo Mistoffelees, there you are," declared Asparagus. Jenny moved out of the way to allow the tom to grab Quaxo by the paw and shake it up and down vigorously. "Good show, young tomkit. Good show, indeed. How ever are we going to repay you for rescuing Old Deuteronomy?

"Th-there's really no need to repay me, Gus ..."

"Oh! Quaxo!" Jellylorum cried, quickly moving in to grasp him by his other paw. "I need to take the kittens back home, but I must thank you from the bottom of my heart for your brave deeds tonight. You truly are a hero."

"A-a hero," Quaxo stammered. "W-well, I don't know if I'd call myself a hero ..."

"Ah, Quaxo!" Skimbleshanks cried, pushing the two cats in front of him out of the way to crush the tuxedo tom into a bear hug. "Good on ye, laddie! Brave an' braw as they come, that ye are. Lang may yer lum reek!*"

"Lang may yer … huh? Um, thanks, Skimble, I uh ..."

"Oh, Mister Mistoffelees!"

Quaxo barely caught Tugger's self-satisfied whisper of, "You're welcome," before the Maine Coon sauntered off, leaving him to deal with his growing mob of congratulators alone. The tuxedo tom pasted on a smile and accepted all of their profuse thanks gratefully, but the whole time he just wanted to crawl away and catch his breath. Despite being a dynamo onstage, he was more of an awkward introvert in real life, so being swamped by all these exuberant fans was more than a little suffocating.

And he had never really planned on putting on a big magical extravaganza in front of everyone, let alone saving the day. At the time he couldn't show it, but he had been nervous out of his wits throughout the whole impromptu performance. And he just wanted to strangle Tugger for putting him out like that. Bast, what would have happened if that trick didn't work!

But it did. Oh, thank Bast, it did. By some divine providence, he managed to bring their beloved leader back to the Junkyard where he belonged. He glanced up for a moment toward the Great Tire where Old Deuteronomy stood watching over the Tribe. The old patriarch caught his gaze and nodded once, his warm eyes glowing with appreciation.

Quaxo's heart swelled. Gee … maybe I am pretty good at this whole magic thing after all.

After a few minutes, the crowd around him thinned out and dispersed, finally allowing Quaxo the chance to breathe. He looked down and started to brush some of the clinging sparks on his tuxedo. I really need to get these things off of me. They're so itchy.

"Quaxo."

The sound of that bright soprano voice made the tom's heart skip a beat. He turned around and his eyes instantly fixed themselves upon the lovely calico queen to whom it belonged. Two brown eyes blinked at him as she froze in her tracks, her smile faltering. She lowered her eyelids as if suddenly shy, her long eyelashes fluttering.

Quaxo swallowed as his heart beat furiously against his ribs. What? Why … why am I feeling so nervous? It's just Jem. You know. You're best friend? He watched as the queen slowly crept closer, carrying something in her paws. A sparkly gold pail or something. Then she was in front of him and she placed it in his hands.

"Here, Quaxo. I, uh, forgot to give this back to you earlier."

"Huh?" He blinked, confused. "Um, thanks, Jem. Uh … what is that?"

Jemima frowned. "It's the rainbow bucket." Blink. "Remember? From the magic show?"

"The rainbow bucket? Rainbow bucket … rainbow … oh!"

Now Quaxo remembered. He used that during the magic show. He pulled a rainbow scarf out of that bucket.

And then … he gave it to Jemima.

Clearing his throat, Quaxo gently pushed the bucket back into his friend's arms. "Nah, Jem. That was a gift. You keep it."

"What?" Jemima's eyes widened, sparkled, and Quaxo's throat grew tight.

Bast, she's so cute. Has she always been that cute?

"No, Quaxo," she replied. "I can't take this. Don't you need it for your future shows?"

"Um … well, maybe. But, I could always get another one." Then he coughed, puffed out his chest and put on his patented magician's smile. "Just consider it your own souvenir from the Magical Mister Mistoffelees show! And ..."

With a flourish, Quaxo reached into the bucket and pulled out a glittering blue scarf.

"I think there might still be some magic in there left."

"Oh!" Jemima gasped. "That was … wow!"

Quaxo chuckled, feeling his false bravado slipping back into awkwardness now that the trick was over. "Nah, that was nothing." He looked at Jemima, then back to the scarf, then back to Jemima. "Well, uh … I guess you'll have to take the scarf along with it. Would you ... mind if I tried to put it on for you?"

Jemima's cheeks turning a fetching shade of pink. "Oh, uh … sure. Go ahead."

"Um, okay. Great!" Quaxo leaned forward. "Let's, uh, see how this looks."

Jemima stared at the ground, the blood roaring in her ears as she felt Quaxo reach around and wrap the scarf around her neck.

Bast, she thought. He has got to see me blushing. This is so embarrassing. What am I even blushing for, anyway?

Then Quaxo's paw accidentally brushed her fur, making fireworks of heat explode across her cheeks.

No, no! Stop it! Don't blush! Don't blush!

Quaxo was not having an easier time. Paws, stop shaking! Stop shaking! He grit his teeth, trying desperately to ignore that shot of electricity that went through his fingers when they swept through Jemima's silky fur.

Once the wrapping was done, Quaxo let out a long breath and stepped back, letting his gaze travel over the tenderly adorned queen.

Two questioning eyes blinked up at him. "How does it look, Quaxo?"

"It ..." He gulped. "It's pretty. You … you're pretty."

Quaxo's cheeks heated as those last words lingered on his lips. Bast, I don't get it. Why am I so antsy? He thought back to the Journey to the Heavyside Layer, when he was so caught up in moment that he slipped his paw around Jemima's without a thought. His paw began to shake even harder as he remembered how soft and right her paw felt in his.

Argh, get a grip, Quaxo! Pull yourself together!

"Um," Jemima finally said, breaking the silence with a small smile. "You were amazing today, Quaxo. Your magic was spectacular."

"Oh, uh ..." Quaxo shifted from one foot to the other. "You were amazing too, Jem. I mean, that song. Your voice was … incredible."

Jemima ducked her bashfully. "Oh, I don't know about that."

Oh, but it was. From the moment she opened her mouth to sing, Quaxo was utterly enthralled by the sound that emerged. It was like moonlight wrapped within the voice of an angel – clear and bright and as smooth as silk. The sound filled his ears and heart like an overflowing fountain, somehow making the sky seem clearer, the stars brighter, the air sweeter. And as the words she sang filled his consciousness, he could feel a hardness melting in his heart that he had not even realized was there.

And … well, Jemima had always been pretty. With those big brown eyes, wide-open face and petite body, she'd capture any tom's attention. But as she sang that night with her face aglow in the moonlight and an expression of pure, celestial rapture … it was as if her beauty had come to full bloom before his eyes. She'd looked absolutely exquisite.

She still does.

"But thank you, Quaxo," Jemima continued. "To be honest, I wasn't really expecting to sing tonight. I had no solo planned at all. It just ... happened, I guess. I didn't really know what I was doing."

"Oh, well … that makes two of us. I really didn't know what I was doing either."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

They stared at each silently other a moment. Then smirks broke across both their faces and they burst out laughing.

"Jemima!"

The calico queen turned. Munkustrap beckoned to her from the Great Tire. "Your grandfather will be leaving now," he called to her. "He wants to say goodbye."

"Oh!" Jemima turned back to Quaxo, lowering her eyelids. "I, uh, had better get going."

"Uh, yeah, me too," Quaxo answered. "I, uh ..."

He paused as his eyes narrowed on a pair of cats strolling their way, arm-in-arm, out of the Junkyard. The redheaded tom was nuzzling the cheek of the snowy white queen, who was resting her head against his shoulder.

"Yeah ..." Quaxo said through gritted teeth. "I need to have a few words with Plato before he drags Vicky off to who-knows-where."

Jemima followed his gaze and laughed. Turning back to him, she put a paw on her hip. "Oh, come, Quaxo. Don't be so overprotective. Plato and Victoria were made for each other. You know that."

"Oh, I know. I know. I just … want to have a few words with them, that's all."

"Oh, alright," Jemima giggled. "Well … good night, Quaxo."

The tuxedo tom smiled at her tenderly. Then he leaned in and pulled her into a hug, whispering into her ear, "Goodnight, Jem."

Jemima couldn't breathe, enveloped by the warmth of Quaxo's arms. And when he pulled away, the emptiness swept over her like an icy wind. She looked up just in time to see Quaxo wink at her once, and then just like that he was gone, chasing after the retreating forms of his sister and her mate.

The calico queen stared after him with her paw pressed over her racing heart. Bast, what is wrong with me?

"Jemima! Come on!"

"Coming!" Jemima whirled around and headed quickly toward the Great Tire. She set the bucket down on the side and bounded up to where Old Deuteronomy waited, throwing herself into his waiting arms.

"Grandfather!" she cried, snuggling into his thick fur. "Oh Grandfather, I'll miss you. I'll miss you so much."

The Jellicle leader shook with warm laughter. "I will miss you too, dearest Jemima."

Jemima blinked back tears and buried her face into her grandfather's chest. Just a half hour before, she thought she had lost him forever.

"You will not stay away too long, will you, Grandfather?" she asked, lifting her eyes up to his.

Old Deuteronomy stroked a loving paw along her cheek. "I will try not to, dear one. But for now, I am needed elsewhere in the world. I can only promise to return to you as soon as I am able."

Jemima sniffled and gave him a watery smile. "Alright, Grandfather. I understand."

The Jellicle leader drew her in for one final embrace. When he released, he gently grasped her by the chin and lifted her gaze to his.

"Jemima," he said, his eyes gentle but serious. "You are no ordinary kitten, my dear one. You've been bestowed by the Heavyside with an extraordinary gift. You must never change, Jemima. You must never let anyone rob you of your kind and loving heart. That is the only way to ensure your gift will always be used only for good. Remember that."

The young queen nodded slowly. "Yes … yes, I will, Grandfather. I promise."

With warm eyes, the Jellicle leader smiled and released Jemima to return to her father, who was waiting at the bottom of the Tire with the abandoned bucket in his paws.

"Son," Old Deuteronomy called to him. "Take care."

Munkustrap nodded. "I will, Father."

Old Deuteronomy stood and gave one last wave over the Junkyard. Then he turned away and he was gone.

"Bast, what a night," Tantomile sighed as she spread the discarded newspaper over her body like a blanket. "I've never seen anything like it. So many miracles happened. So much magic. I don't think any ball will ever top this one."

"Yeah, I agree," her twin brother said, scooching in beside her with a yawn. "But that psychic transmission seriously drained me. Let's get some sleep."

"Hey." Tantomile kicked at him. "Move over a bit. I need my leg room."

Coricopat rolled his eyes and shifted. "Better?"

"Much."

"Goodnight, sis."

"Goodnight, bro."

The twins lay silently for several long moments. Only the distant rumbling of cars broke the silence.

Then Tantomile opened one eye. "Coricopat?"

"Hm?"

"During the psychic transmission. You felt that, didn't you?"

The male twin was quiet for a moment. "Felt what, Tantomile?"

"You know what, brother. The moment we took Jemima's paws, I felt ... a darkness. A shadow."

"There's no darkness in Jemima, sis. She has as pure a heart as I've ever felt in a cat."

"I know that, brother. But the darkness wasn't Jemima. And yet … it was in her. Like a second presence."

"Tantomile … whatever it is, I don't think we need worry about it. I barely even noticed it, it was so faint."

"But it was there, Coricopat. It was there and it was real. And I don't know what it is or what it means, but it worries me."

"Sis." Her twin turned over and looked at her. "There's no point in worrying about this now. We can check over Jemima in the morning, if you want. But for now we need to sleep."

Tantomile nodded slowly, though the look of concern did not leave her face. "Yeah … I suppose so."

"Good night, sis. We'll talk more about this in the morning."

"Yeah. Okay."

"You're sure you are alright?"

Munkustrap smiled at his fearful mate, allowing her to tenderly bathe the scratches on his arms. "I am fine, my love. There is no need to fuss."

"You stupid tom," Demeter choked out. "You stupid, stupid tom. What were you thinking, trying to take on Macavity alone?"

"I'm the Protector, my love. It was my job to defend the Tribe." Munkustrap tipped her chin up and gazed deeply into her eyes. "And I could never let him take you away from me."

From her vantage point at the other corner beneath the porch, Jemima smiled as she watched her parents kiss and nuzzle each other. They both still needed comfort over what they had endured just an hour before. After a moment they turned and crossed over to where she lay.

Jemima purred as her father mussed up her head fur affectionately, followed by her mother who kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

"Jem … you did marvelously tonight, my darling," Demeter whispered, wrapping her arms about her daughter's neck. "I'm so proud of you. So very proud."

Jemima snuggled against her mother with a smile. "Thanks, Mom."

Demeter pulled back and spotted the scarf wrapped around Jemima's neck. "That is really nice, Jem. Where did you get this?"

"Oh, uh ..." Jemima blushed and looked away. "Quaxo gave it to me."

She practically heard her father's eyebrows shoot to the top of his forehead. "Quaxo?"

"Yeah. Um, you know. Just a little thank you gift for helping with the magic show. That's all." Then she flopped down onto the leaf bed and turned over so that her back was to them. "I'm really tired now, Mom and Dad. Good night!"

Her parents were silent for a good long while. Then they chuckled and padded over to the other side of the underporch. "Good night, Jemima."

The young queen sighed in relief as she heard her parents lay down onto the leaf bed. She looked up. The first shafts of morning light were just beginning to creep in through the cracks in the floor above. With a contented sigh, Jemima closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. She wasn't surprised that her first dreams were of a certain tuxedo tom.

That is … until the nightmares began.

"MACAVITY!"

Terrified screams erupted throughout the Junkyard, sending all the kittens scurrying in panic. With quaking limbs, she climbed up one of the garbage piles, taking shelter inside a cardboard box at the top. She curled into a protective ball and tentatively peeked out over the chaos below, gasping as she first caught sight of the infamous Mystery Cat. She had only ever heard about him in stories, and he was even more hideous than she could have ever imagined.

Then she watched, horrified, as the brute grabbed her mother by the arms and dragged her kicking and flailing across the floor.

"NO!" she shrieked. "No, no let her go! Mommy! MOMMY!"

The Mystery Cat's head shot up and their eyes met.

A jolt went through her, paralyzing her completely. It was as if she could feel her soul being sucked into the dark vortex of his eyes. Somewhere in the distance she heard someone screaming her name.

She hadn't realized then that she had blacked out ...

"Playground school bell rings … again …"

What?

Singing filled her ears. Some dark, haunting melody. And then it faded away like fog upon the wind.

She blinked and looked up. The scene had changed. But she could barely see anything. Everything was too shadowy and indistinct.

As she fought to clear her blurred vision, Jemima made out four gray walls and piles of old crates. Somewhere in the distance, a bell was chiming.

Ding … ding … ding … ding …

Her ears perked up at the sound of footsteps. She turned to the left. What is that?

It's the shape of a cat … moving towards her!

Who's there? Hello?

She reached toward the shadow and her world spun into black …

"Rainclouds come to play … again ..."

An agonized scream ripped through the darkness. She gasped, covering her ears in shock. Someone else was roaring. Horrible, guttural snarls. Then there was a sickening thud. And then another. Like someone smashing their fists into another cat's flesh.

Each thud was punctuated by another pained cry. She knew that voice. That scream.

"Mom!"

The screams went on and on. But she was completely paralyzed. There was nothing to do but hide. Fighting back tears, she buried her face into … something.

Something warm and furry.

Someone.

Who is this? Hello?

The scene shifted again ...

"Has no one told you she's not breathing …?"

What? Hello? Who is singing?

Sunlight burned her bleary eyes. A wood floor juddered beneath her. There were two walls around her and an open space, revealing a blue sky and shrinking hills in the distance.

A whistle blew. It hurt her ears. Her body jolted and bounced. Someone was beating a drum that shook the whole room. Or maybe not a drum. More like metal colliding with wooden tracks over and over.

And there was that screaming again.

Someone was clutching her from behind. She could not see who it was. But the screaming filled her ears, ripping her heart in two. She sobbed uncontrollably though she didn't know why.

No … she knew why.

Because it was her fault. It was all her fault.

Wait … what?

She turned around and the scene shattered …

"Hello … I'm your mind … giving you someone to talk to …"

Shadows spun about her, twisting into faces. Angry jaws snarled at her and shrieked in her ears. Claws stretched out and ripped into her from all sides. She cried and screamed ad pleaded for mercy, but to no avail. The shadows did not care.

And then the shadows melted together. The blackness faded into gray, then seeped into red. The redness dripped down to the floor, spilling over her feet. A rank odor filled her nostrils.

Blood.

"NO!"

She fell to her knees, clutching her pounding head. Stop it! Stop it! Stop it, please!

And then one last sung word echoed through her ears. It buoyed her, lifted her up and carried her home.

"Hello ..."

"Ah!"

With a stifled cry, Jemima sprang up from the leaf bed. She gasped for breath, chest heaving as her head swung from left to right. Where … where …

Home. She was home.

Closing her eyes, the calico queen let out a long, relieved breath and sunk down back into the leaves.

Up above, sunlight filtered through the cracks in the floor, caressing her and comforting her. She relished in the warmth as she curled into a ball and tried to fall back to sleep.

But dread still tugged at the back of her mind even as she drifted away.

What was that?

XXXXXXXXX

AN: Lyrics from Hello by Evanescence.

*Old Scottish saying, meaning, "May you live long and stay well."