The hero had his nemesis in sight, and she was fierce. As the Pollicle Queen, the mighty Pattipawsette Sharp-tooth, she ruled the entire pack of stray dogs of the London alleys, and her teeth were stained with the blood of a thousand cats. Her claws were razors, able to pierce through the concrete of the pavement, and her eyes were yellow slits of madness. But she would meet her end today. The hero had vowed this, and so it would happen.
He prepared his great leap. His tail lashed from side to side with excitement... no, not excitement. Righteous anger. Yes, that was much better. Altogether more heroic. He closed his eyes, focusing his energy to his legs, gathering strength.
And he leapt.
"Aha! Have at thee, you villainous fiend! Prepare to meet thy doom!"
Pattipawsette Sharp-tooth shrieked and fell off the tire, on which she had been peacefully sleeping until now. She poked her head up after a second and glared viciously at her brother.
"Dammit Pounce, what'd you do that for?" she roared. "I was just having a nice dream too!"
Pouncival grinned. "I'm a hero, Patti. You're supposed to be the bad guy and fight me!"
"Oh, I'll show you a bad guy if you don't go away and leave me alone!" hissed Pattipaws grumpily and climbed up the tire again. "Go and play with Tumble or something."
Her brother pouted. "You're boring!"
But he walked away anyway, to quest for his much more entertaining brother. He was bored, and actually in quite a bad mood. He always felt like that at this time of the year, since it was closing in on the day of his mother's death. He barely remembered his mother, but his father spoke of her a lot, to make sure her name was never forgotten.
Pouncival had thought that maybe pouncing at Pattipaws would amuse him for a bit, since that was always fun, but his sister also felt the tension of the season and wouldn't play along. He was quite bummed out by this. Pattipaws had always used to play with him before when he was sad about mum, and she had a great way of making him forget his sorrows.
The young tom strolled along the junkyard, trying to figure out if he was going to go and find Tumblebrutus or go and chat with Mistoffelees for a bit. He sometimes helped out the magical cat with various simple tasks, like gathering ingredients for various spells. Pouncival was good at finding things, and Mistoffelees could always use a paw. Besides, the magician's tasks were often difficult and took his mind off other things.
He passed Bombalurina and Demeter, who were sunbathing on the TSE 1, and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of them, but especially at the sight of Bombalurina. He'd had a crush on the gorgeous red queen for quite a while now, and somewhere in his poor, juvenile heart he was sort of hoping that maybe one day she'd abandon the Rum Tum Tugger and realize that hey, maybe that Pouncival wouldn't be so bad a tomfriend after all?
He deliberately walked slower as he passed them, in the vague hope that maybe Bombalurina would call him over to her. She didn't. She probably didn't even notice he was there. Pouncival sighed sadly and continued on his way.
Suddenly someone pounced on him. The someone attacked from behind, pressing Pouncival against the ground and made it very hard for him to breathe. He hated it when Tumblebrutus did that.
"Gotcha! Heh, heh, betcha didn't see that coming!"
Pouncival wheezed out a reply and tried to stand up, but that was hard when you had an overenthusiastic younger brother standing on your back. He had to settle with trying to figure out a proper revenge once he got free.
Once Tumblebrutus had decided that Pouncival had suffered enough, he gracefully jumped off and sauntered up to his brother's head.
"Wanna play?" he asked hopefully. "We could attack Cassandra and listen to her threatening us, that's always fun."
Pouncival was first going to say no, but then he saw the slightly pleading look in Tumblebrutus's eyes. His brother was feeling no better about the season than he did, so Pouncival smiled. "Cassandra's at the vet's today. Dad told me this morning. And when she's back we're not allowed to mess with her, because she might be in pain and it's not nice to mess with sick people. Said dad."
Tumblebrutus nodded. "'Kay. Shall we play hide-and-go-seek, then?"
Pouncival thought this was a very good idea, and Tumblebrutus, after having resolved the argument on who was going to count first, cheerily ran off to hide. Pouncival, who knew his brother was a master in hiding, only waited for ten seconds before yelling:
"Ready or not, here I come!"
There was an old, abandoned warehouse not far from the Jellicle junkyard. It had been locked up for many years now, its only inhabitant a young tomcat who needed a place where he could be in peace and quiet, and had decided that the old office was ideal. The building itself was within hearing distance from the Jellicles, but it was not a place that anybody went to on a regular basis.
The windows of the office had been nailed shut and barred with planks, and therefore the office was illuminated by large blue orbs that floated eerily through the air like balloons. In the middle of the room stood a couple of wooden boxes that had been turned upside-down to make a table, and more boxes were piled up at the sides against the walls, making cupboards for magical ingredients and spell books. There was an old fireplace which was rarely used, and on the cold ashes stood a rusty kettle.
By the table sat the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees. He was reading intently from a very thick and very dusty book. Occasionally he looked up and into a broken mirror that stood leaning against a pile of books in front of him. Oddly enough, this mirror didn't show him his reflection, but the image of a gang of Pollicles lying in a dark cellar. Mistoffelees couldn't hear what any of the dogs were saying, but he saw that they were laughing at something.
"Very, very bad," he muttered to himself and kept on reading. "Very, very bad."
There was a war brewing in the streets of London. It had been going on for months, random fighting breaking out here and there between the two battling dog tribes, but now things had changed rapidly and for the worse. It had begun with the murder of the Peke mother and her five puppies in Soho a week ago. Since he had received those news, Mistoffelees had been scrying in his mirror day and night for changes, to be the one to warn the Jellicles.
Jellicles always got hurt in Pollicle war. What with more dogs out on the streets and Jellicles never able to defend themselves against their superior strength, it was unavoidable. Sure, the Pekes and the Pollicles would fight each other, given the chance, but if they found themselves without adversaries then cats would do just fine.
That was why Mistoffelees was studying the book in front of him so closely, occasionally frowning and looking things up in an encyclopaedia of magic. He was looking for a way to help out. Magic was his talent, what he did best. He was good, better than the Twins they'd said, and what was the use of him having all this power if he couldn't use it for something that could help? He knew he'd seen a recipe for a strength potion somewhere in this book. He just had to find it, which took its sweet time.
Finally he smiled and nodded. He had it. It was a very old recipe, from a time where there had been vicious wildcats in these parts. Mistoffelees read through it a couple of times. It didn't look impossible. Frankly, it looked simple enough for him to do, although gathering the ingredients would be a difficult task.
Well, he'd better get started.
Rather cheerfully now, Mistoffelees went up to his cupboard and started reading labels.
Pouncival looked around the junkyard. Tumblebrutus was nowhere to be seen, just like he'd expected. He sat off in a random direction to find his brother, jumping lightly from junk-pile to junk-pile. Then he suddenly stopped, and sniffed the air. His face scrunched up from the smell, which came from the room at the second floor of the closest warehouse. Pouncival knew that was Mistoffelees's hideout, and he wondered if the magical cat was doing something exciting. He could almost see the smell, a faint outline that made the air tremble, like it did above the asphalt on a scorching summer's day.
He didn't recognize the smell. It wasn't completely unpleasant, just very strong; an intense, eye-watering odour that was suddenly everywhere around him. Pouncival hurried up and squeezed himself through the barred-up door of the warehouse. Uncertainly he ascended the dwindling metal staircase that went up to the office, trying not to look down.
"Misto?" he called out and scratched the door, which was not entirely closed and yielded to his light push. "Hey Misto, are you around here?"
The room would have been dark, if it had not been for the bright blue orbs that floated just below the ceiling. Right now, due to the smell, the magical sparks inside the orbs had a thin red frame.
In front of the fireplace stood Mistoffelees. He was humming a strange little tune to himself as he stirred the cauldron with a large ladle. It was filled to the brim with water, and Pouncival heard the light splashes as things were dropped in it. Scattered on the table were small piles of herbs, and he could also see a few brilliant gems of various colours. The herbs were what gave out the smell.
"Misto?" said Pouncival, a little calmer. "What are you doing?"
The magical cat didn't look up. He was completely focused on the stirring and the humming. Pouncival sat down and waited patiently, knowing that he wouldn't be able to talk to Mistoffelees until he was finished with whatever it was he was doing.
After a few minutes the magician stopped his humming and looked up. He seemed surprised to see Pouncival there.
"Oh hello, Pounce," he said. "Been here long?"
"Not very," replied Pouncival. "I was just coming in here to check out this new and highly fascinating smell you've got going on here."
"Smell?" Mistoffelees sniffed the air. "I don't feel anything. Must be because I've been here a while."
Pouncival shrugged and poked a gem absentmindedly with a paw. "Don't you want to come up and play instead?" he suggested after a sudden moment of inspiration. "Tumble and I are right in the middle of hide-and-go-seek, but I can call for him and we can start over, if you'd like to join us."
Mistoffelees smiled a little. "That's nice of you, Pounce, but I'm busy."
"What are you doing, anyway?" Pouncival looked curiously at the strange soup in the cauldron. "Is it a potion?"
The magician nodded, and grinned a little. "Curiosity killed the cat, you know."
"I have eight more lives," said Pouncival nonchalantly. "What does it do?"
"If I tell you, you promise to keep it to yourself? Don't tell anyone, and especially not Munkustrap. He might not like it." When Pouncival nodded eagerly Mistoffelees continued. "It's far from done yet, but when it is, I'm hoping for a strength potion. It's supposed to be some sort of protection to guard us against the Pollicles. Bad things are happening in London. Did you know that?"
Pouncival shook his head silently.
"Well, that's how it is anyway. War is on the verge of breaking out, and it's basically badness all around. I think this potion would really help, but I'm not sure. It's complicated. A lot harder than anything I've ever done before."
"Anything I could do?"
Mistoffelees thought about it. "Well, I could certainly use an assistant for this. Two heads do think better than just one, even if one of those heads happen to belong to you."
"Hey!"
The magician ignored him. "There are some ingredients that I could use the help in gathering. I have all the herbs I'll need, but there are some things that... well, take a look."
Pouncival peeked into the magic book and squinted to read the recipe. "'The Hair of a Wolf'?" He stared at Mistoffelees. "How are we supposed to get the hair of a wolf? Even if we could find a wolf in London, it'd be suicide!"
"That's no problem, Pounce. It's a very old recipe, and I'm fully convinced that a hair from any Pollicle we can find would do just fine."
"Oh. Well, that's a relief then. Any chance we can find a tiny little Chihuahua to steal a hair from?"
"We'll see."
Macavity raised an eyebrow and looked at his agent.
"Quite sure of this, are you?" he asked casually. "I do hope you're not lying to me. I would be so awfully cross if you lied to me."
The agent didn't dare a nervous smile, or to even look up. "Yessir. I'm sure, sir."
"A strength potion... From that little magical brat?" Macavity thoughtfully scratched his chin with a claw. "This is... interesting information. I think I might pay little Mistoffelees a visit, just to make sure he does everything correctly. Strength potions are so very difficult to get right." He nodded at his agent. "You may go."
The agent wasted no time, but darted out of the room as fast as he possibly could. Soon a beautiful white Persian queen came sassing in, a seductive smile on her lips. Macavity gave her his best leer and gestured for her to come over to him.
"Did that tom give you some good news, darling?" purred Griddlebone into his ear as she curled up in front of him on his pillow. "Is there a new and wonderful plan forming in your head right this moment?"
"There might be," smirked Macavity. "There might be, indeed. I got me some Jellicle news, and now I'm planning to go and see an acquaintance. It shall be most rewarding. Perhaps you would like to join me? I would like for you to meet him."
Griddlebone's blue eyes sparkled. "Would he give me something pretty?"
"Oh, I'm sure of it. I'm sure he'd find something in his little filthy hideout that he could bring you, and if he doesn't I shall claw his eyes out for you."
Griddlebone smiled and nuzzled him affectionately. "You do know how to make a girl feel special, darling..."
