The following week Pouncival basically lived in the basement flat. He told his family that he was with Mistoffelees, helping him with experiments. Asparagus, who was still in shock after Pattipaws's death, didn't mind so much. Tumblebrutus though, looked sad every time Pouncival left the junkyard.
"Why don't you play with me anymore, Pounce?" he asked timidly as his brother was on his way to the third day of practice.
Pouncival looked at him. "I... I don't have the time," he answered after a moment's hesitation.
"You never have the time nowadays. You're always hanging around with Misto. Is he your new best friend?"
"You'll always be my best friend, Tumble. I promise I'll play with you later, but I have other things to do."
He had to ignore Tumblebrutus's pleading eyes and tell him to go and play with Admetus instead. Other things to do... Yes. He had to go and train to become a real superhero, instead of some twerp in a silly disguise. He had to go and duck Coricopat's complicated spells that were hurled at him at any moment, and he had to do it with his eyes covered as well. The Twins told him that a hero might not always be able to se, but he should never be blind to his surroundings.
Every day he spent training. Every night he went out patrolling the streets, to make sure he didn't miss things. Afterwards he would thank the Everlasting Cat for granting him durability together with his strength, or he would have collapsed after the first 48 hours. The days floated together into a constant battle. He was hardly ever out of costume, but spent the entire time as the Rumpus Cat. He didn't sleep. There was never time to eat. And still, against all thoughts and reason, he survived.
Perhaps it was the image of Pattipaws's smile as she had seen his real face just before she died. Perhaps it was the look of absolute despair on his father's on her memorial. Whatever it was, something gave him the strength to carry on, to do everything the Twins told him no matter how impossible it should have been.
"You are good," said Coricopat one day when the two of them were sparring in the flat. "Very good. With time, you can be the best fighter in London."
Pouncival bent backwards and stood on his front paws, allowing the other tom's kick to hit the air between his legs, before drawing them together and catch Coricopat's leg in a firm grip. He let himself fall to the left, pulling his adversary's lower body with him, and landed perfectly on his own four paws.
"Thanks," he said, falling back into fighting position. "Do you think I can win?"
Coricopat gracefully got to his feet again. "What I think is not important. It is what you know that is. Are you stronger than a Pollicle?"
Pouncival ducked a paw that latched out at him with a speed like a whip. "Yes."
"Do you have the skill it takes to defeat them?"
"Yes."
Coricopat stood up, his back straight. "Will you use it?"
Pouncival relaxed, every inch of the fighter inside him suddenly gone. "No."
"And why not? A Pug killed your sister. You have every right to extract vengeance upon them. Everyone would understand. Is it not what you wish? To bring justice to the guilty, and know when you close your eyes at night that you may have saved a fellow Jellicle, a friend or a family member, in killing that dog?"
Pouncival shook his head. "I mean... I did at first. I did kill the dog that murdered her. But it didn't bring me satisfaction. I wanted to go out and kill more of them, because I thought that it might... bring her back or something. But it wouldn't have. She would still be dead, and I might be too. I wasn't ready then. They are too many. I can't do that to my family. They have already lost too many."
Coricopat nodded and smiled. "A good answer. You may be young in years, but you are old in mind. You will make a good hero."
"I shall teach the Pollicles a lesson, that is all," said Pouncival and crouched into position once more. "I won't kill again, but I'll make sure they think twice before attacking a cat." He smiled. "I'll be the tip of the scale."
He delivered a punch that would have floored Coricopat, had not the mystical cat avoided it at the very last minute, and, almost as an afterthought, swept out with his hind legs and tripped the young hero. He chuckled as he bent over Pouncival.
"Perhaps you should rest," he said. "My sister and I have felt the end come soon. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps the day after. You should be at the peek of your strength, just to make sure."
Pouncival nodded. He was indeed tired. Coricopat helped him up and assisted him to his sleeping quarters: a pile of old rags in a corner of the basement. Next to the pile was a plate, which was half-filled with cat food.
"A gift from our mistress," said Tantomile, who came out of the darkness and stood beside her brother, both moving like shadows. "She knows who you are and what you will do."
"Your mistress?" repeated Pouncival. "Is it not you who own her?"
Tantomile and Coricopat both shook their heads, and the former smiled like she would to an ignorant kitten.
"She is the one who feeds us, who puts a roof over our heads, who makes sure that we are safe," she said calmly. "She is our mistress. But she has it the other way around, for she is human, and humans are fallible. She calls us her familiars."
"Eat and rest, Pouncival," said Coricopat and gave him a nod. "Tomorrow will be a long day for you."
They left him. Pouncival sniffed at the cat-food in the bowl. It was not unpleasant, so he ate it. He was hungry. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. After he had finished everything, he yawned and lay down on the pile of rags. He fell asleep, but slept uneasily and dreamed of a Pollicle with Pattipaws's face, who was sometimes screaming, sometimes barking out her fear. He knew why she was afraid. Tiny little copies of the Rumpus Cat were closing in on her, all of them hissing and glaring. The Pattipaws Pollicle whimpered with fear and staggered backwards, but she couldn't escaped the heroes, and they were too many, and they would get her... In his dream, Pouncival fought to get to her, but a part of him knew that she was already lost. She was barking louder and louder, and soon the sound of it echoed through his head, making him spin wildly out of control until he stretched out a paw...
And woke up.
At first he thought he was still dreaming, because the barking was still very clear. Then, as his mind cleared, he became aware that it was morning, and that he was lying in the Twins' basement flat. There were dogs outside, now he could also smell them instead of just hearing them.
"Good morning," said Mistoffelees's cheerful voice from somewhere behind him. "This is your wake-up call. Wretched, isn't it?" He sighed and looked out the small aperture. "Extremely rude, I must say, to wake someone up like that."
"Is this the day?" asked Pouncival as he stretched and started his morning wash.
Mistoffelees nodded. "It seems like it. The Peke chieftain and the Pollicle queen met this morning and officially declared that it is war. Not really a surprise to anyone, but that's dogs for you. Anyway, they have been barking for a while now. The humans are going crazy. I heard someone has even called the Fire Brigade."
Pouncival pricked up his ears. In a distance, behind the barking, he could hear sirens. He nodded thoughtfully.
"They're on their way," he said. "Well, shall we get this over and done with, then?"
"By all means, be my guest. I have no intention of getting my paws dirty." Mistoffelees grinned. "These are the perks of being the sidekick."
"That you don't have to fight?"
"Precisely."
The hero accepted this. Not taking his eyes off of the small hole, he changed into the Rumpus Cat. He felt how his body was altered and relaxed visibly. A small bit of him was nervous. Perhaps what he had learned wasn't enough? Perhaps he was still too weak? Perhaps this would prove to be another failure?
No. He couldn't think that, must not think it. He would win. He had to.
A faint sense of someone else being present in the room made the Rumpus Cat look around in the basement. The Twins had materialized again. He was so used to them doing that now that he only recognized their presence with a polite nod. They returned the gesture. The Rumpus Cat turned back to look out the bars of the aperture.
"Here goes," he muttered.
Queen snarled and snapped after the enemies. She had stopped seeing them as dogs at all, for they were not worthy of it. Her eyes jumped from one growling face to the other, trying to find the guilty one. The one who had murdered King.
Was it that one? The Peke with yellow teeth and muddy fur? Had those teeth been biting her beloved's neck, making him bleed and whine in agony? Had those large, clumsy paws dared go near King's face without shivering and shaking, like they should have?
Or was it that other one, the smelly, old thing who wouldn't be worthy of licking the ground that King walked upon? He who was eyeing her appreciatively, as if he didn't know that she was taken, forever taken, by the greatest dog of them all?
It didn't matter. She would fight them all. Perhaps she would die in this battle, she knew that. But at the moment, her life didn't matter. What was important, was revenge. She would get sweet satisfaction, she would die happily, if she could only rip out the throat of the one who had slain her mate before she drew her last breath.
Queen suddenly noticed that the leader of the Pom tribe was there. The poodle stood next to the Peke chieftain, yapping with her shrill, ear-piercing voice, a nice contrast to Tahmores's dark baritone.
Had not Queen been so angered by the poodle's betrayal, she would have noticed what a lovely pair the two leaders made. The poodle, lady Regina Cheyenne La Drottning, was small and white, and her fur was perfectly coiffed. She was not a fighter, but her teeth were needle-sharp and would cause considerable damage if used. She was in every inch a lady.
Tahmores, the Pekingese, was a proud warrior. His size may have given you the impression that he was weak, when he was anything but. In ancient times, his kin had been the dogs of royalty, only allowed to be owned by members of the Chinese Imperial Palace. The look in his eyes confirmed that though his reign may have diminished over the centuries, the memory was still vivid to him. He looked at the opposing forces without flinching.
Queen looked at her own side. She still had Artaxiad, the strong Pug male. He was quite handsome, and a fierce fighter, even though he could obviously never rival King. Many years of living on the streets had made him tough, and having to fight to keep his position in the pack forced him to always be alert. She was proud to have him on her side.
The barking made her ears ring. She felt resolve build up inside, and knew that the moment of truth was approaching. This was just the beginning. Soon she would have her vengeance.
She opened her mouth to charge her troops forward, when something happened. A cat came out of a nearby basement flat. This was indeed peculiar, since cats kept inside during Pollicle war. They might have been vicious little bastards, but they were not stupid. So this particular cat daring to come out was a thing worth noticing.
It stretched out and yawned before looking out over the area. He was completely composed as he did so; Queen had never seen a cat so calm in the presence of dogs. His eyes were red as taillights. His coat was black as midnight. Queen recognized the type of creature he was.
A warrior.
She felt Artaxiad take a step back, and she looked at him.
"What is the matter with you?" she growled. "It is just a cat."
"I have heard of a cat like that," he replied. "There have been rumours in my ranks. We have had a recent outbreak. Ten of my Pugs left the pack, but you know how it is. Outlaws are so rarely alone."
"Nine times out of ten, they leave family behind," said Queen and nodded. "What of it?"
"Not long ago there was talk of a cat who fought like a demon," said the Pug leader. "His fur was black, and he had a strange mark on his chest. He killed a dog." Artaxiad frowned. "I do not like this."
"A cat that killed a dog? That is not possible. The rumours must have been just that."
Queen returned to the impending battle, but it was hard to concentrate with those red eyes watching her every move. She decided to ignore them, and threw her head back to howl her final command...
It began. Not in the way that Queen had thought, but in the way that the Mystical Jellicle Twins had decided. Suddenly the mysterious cat was right in the middle of the opposing dog tribes, standing as still as a statue.
A Pom reached him first. She readied herself, fully prepared to tear the foolish cat limb from limb, when a black paw shot out and hit her squarely on the nose. It was not a hard punch, but it was enough to leave her dazed and confused. With a whimper, the Pom fell to the ground, her eyes crossed.
Immediately, or at least is immediately as possible after the shock had settled, the cat had every dog present against him. They attacked at once, trying to squash him between them. For a moment the cat was completely hidden underneath the dog bodies, and Queen decided that it must have been trampled to death. She didn't bother much with it. She had better things to do than look after foolish felines.
The sounds of battle washed over her. Dogs were biting, scratching, whining all around her. The noise was not of this world. Her vision shrank until the Pollicles fighting were no more than vague shape in the corner of her eye. She was looking. She was going to find the guilty one, and she had decided that no other but Tahmores could have done it.
She would rip him to pieces. There would not be a single drop of blood left of him when she was done. Then she would be even. Then she would be pleased.
That never happened. Suddenly, and without warning, Queen felt how something caught her by the throat. It was like running into a hidden wire, except that she found herself stuck in it. She searched frantically for an explanation and a way to get loose, for the grip cut off her air supply. To her surprise she saw Tahmores right in front of her, caught in a similar grip. It was a black paw, she noticed.
"NOW!"
The voice was strong, wild, untamed. It was the roar of a lion, if Queen had known such a thing. After the word had rung out, the sounds of battle stopped. The dogs ceased barking. The wounded stopped whimpering. All eyes turned to the two leaders, both trapped in paws that would not yield. Slowly the mysterious cat lowered his catch, and Queen and Tahmores found themselves staring into his wild eyes.
Neither of them had ever thought that they would fear a cat. There was just something about this special one that made them want to look at the ground and put their tails between their legs. It was not his strength that made them feel uneasy. It was that he did not show any signs that he was afraid of them, and a cat should always fear a dog.
Then the cat began to speak.
Afterwards, it was the battle that would be remembered, short though it had been. Stories of war seldom have the time to tell about things that were said and not done.
"Some of you already know me, but for those of you who have not yet had the pleasure: I am Rumpus Cat. I do not fear your ranks, whether it be Pollicles, Pekes, Pugs or Poms. Your pitiful barks do not scare me." He glared at them, and Queen and Tahmores both suddenly felt like naughty puppies. "You have both lost members of your tribes to this war. Friends. Family members. So have I. My people have always been the ones to suffer most from your stupidity. This ends now!"
His eyes sought Queen, and when they landed on her she felt as if they saw right through her.
"We all lose people," he said, his voice almost a purr. "That is what happens when you fight. You lose. But that is not a reason to keep fighting, just one more to stop. Every killed puppy, every slain friend, is a reason to stop. Only you can do this. I am here to show you. This is not the answer." He leaned closer to Queen, and whispered in her ear. His whiskers tickled her. "You have puppies at home. They do not need a warrior to protect them. They need a mother. They need a family. No one else can give them that but you, Pollicle Queen. Do you understand me?"
She nodded, too terrified to say anything. The Rumpus Cat smiled.
"Good." He turned to Tahmores. "And you... you have lost too. You think that if you keep fighting, the lost things will come back to you again. It does not work that way. You know that."
The Peke nodded as well. He seemed to be looking for a way to get out, anything at all. This was highly embarrassing, but he couldn't free himself from the Rumpus Cat.
"Now I'm going to let you go," said the hero calmly. "When I do, I want you to run away home, as fast as you can. I know that you may not ever be best friends, but as long as I am around, you are going to have to tolerate each other. If you don't, I know where to find you." He smiled, fangs bared. "Hold back your troops. The war is delayed."
He let go of his grip, and the two leaders could breathe again. There was one long, awkward moment as they looked at each other. They were both fighting a completely private battle inside their heads, a battle between their sense of self-preservation and their hatred of the other. The park was completely silent. Even the sirens of the Fire Brigade had gone quiet. The four packs were waiting.
"Very well," said Queen finally, after clearing her throat. "Let's... go then."
She took a few steps to the side and started to walk, painfully aware that every eye was on her. She desperately wanted to do something, to reach out and tear the Peke's throat out, but suddenly she saw her puppies in front of her inner eye. They would be waking up from their nap right about now... They'd be hungry. They'd call out for her, for she was their mother, the only one they had.
Queen smiled a little. Her oldest son, Princeling, he would become a great Pollicle one day. If she started to train him now, she would get him in shape until his time came to take the power. She would teach him about his brave father. He would be a new King... It would be nice to come home.
Queen looked over her shoulder and gave the Rumpus Cat a nod. He looked surprised, but then he nodded back. The Pollicle leader left the park, her pack in tow. They were a little ruffled from the short fight, but nothing too serious. They'd live. 'They'll live,' she thought contentedly.
When the Pollicles left, so did the Pugs, and after that the Poms. The Pekes were the ones that stayed a little longer, and finally the Rumpus Cat had enough and chased them away. When the park was finally empty and the birds had started singing in the trees again, he sat down and breathed out in relief. He had done it. He really had done it. It had been sort of an anticlimax, but it was done, he had succeeded.
It felt rather odd.
He curled up in the grass, in the sunshine, enjoying the weather. It would be a warm day, hopefully calm too. Suddenly a shadow fell over him. He didn't even bother to look up.
"Hello M.," he said.
"Hello Pounce." There was a light thud as the magician sat down beside him. "Quite a nice weather we've got."
"Mm-hm."
Mistoffelees tilted his head. "You seem quite bummed out for some reason. Anything you'd like to share?"
The Rumpus Cat sighed and rolled over on his back. "Not really." He paused to think. "Well yeah. It's over. I mean, I think it's over. In the end, I didn't solve things by being the Rumpus Cat at all. I did by talking to them. Like Pouncival."
"You also scared the living daylights out of them, as Rumpus Cat," Mistoffelees pointed out kindly.
The Rumpus Cat grinned. "Yeah... That's true. Still. It feels sort of... disappointing. I went through all that training and, well..." He shrugged. "I suppose it'll make sense later on."
"Next time will be better," promised the magician. "This ending sort of felt like a let-down."
"Yes, I had been expecting an explosion. In which the bad guys die."
"This isn't a comic book, though. And no one else was supposed to die."
Pouncival shrugged. "Next time will be better."
"Yeah, let's hope so."
