It was indeed one of the largest houses Jellylorum has ever seen. Her breath was slowly returning to her as she stood on the pavement alongside Deuteronomy. The older cat seemed unfazed by the run, but there was worry in his eyes that wouldn’t go away.
Not that it wasn’t echoed by Jellylorum herself. Demeter was a sweet and thoughtful kitten, and this ‘Maryaridi’ didn’t sound very pleasant. Her tail flitted nervously from side to side as she followed Deuteronomy up the walk to the porch.
It was then that Jellylorum noticed the pair of eyes watching them from behind a screen of flowers. Hissing softly, she skittered forward, knocking into Deuteronomy. He whirled around.
"Yes, Jellylorum?" he said, his voice strangely calm.
"Th-there," she stammered, thrusting a paw in the direction of the eyes, trying unsuccessfully to match the tranquility in Deuteronomy’s voice.
He ran his gaze along her paw and across the lawn until he too noticed the eyes. They were plainly feline, but not the typical gold or green color—they were a wicked sodium orange. Some people said that a cat’s eyes held secrets—these eyes teased of secrets known but unrevealed.
"Deuteronomy," a voice from the flowers said. It wasn’t a question; the voice was merely stating something. "Junkyard givin’ you a hard time?"
"That’s not why I’m here," he replied, still maintaining his calm tone. "Jellylorum, this is Skinnamalinker."
Before the young queen could ask whom she was being introduced to, another cat stepped out of the flowers. She was plainly female, and more or less Deuteronomy’s age. Her coat was a marbled brown and ginger, streaked with black. A large patch of pristine white ran along her face and chest, a similar shade brightening paws and tailtip.
"Jellylorum, is it?" the other queen said, settling mottled haunches beneath her as she sat. "Hello, Jellylorum." She gave the younger cat a piercing look, and Jellylorum shifted, smiling nervously.
"Skinnamalinker, I’d like to discuss something with you," Deuteronomy said, yellow eyes firm.
Skinnamalinker nodded. "I see. Perhaps Jellylorum would enjoy socializing with my kittens while we ‘discuss’ things?"
The fluffy tom blinked, much surprised by this news. "Kittens?"
She laughed, a humorless sound. "Y’think Grizabella’s the only one allowed to socialize—," there was sarcastic emphasis on that word, "—with toms?" Her eyes gleamed teasingly.
Deuteronomy managed an embarrassed smile. "I’ll meet him sometime, I’m sure." He turned to the half-grown female at his side. "Perhaps you ought to, Jellylorum."
Jellylorum nodded stiffly, looking expectantly towards Skinnamalinker. The older queen raised an eyebrow, mischief dancing in the sodium-orange depths of her eye.
"Boys are out back," she said finally.
As she headed in that direction, Jellylorum couldn’t help wondering why she was being made to socialize with toms. Of course, she was approaching that age where both genders were suddenly aware of one another, but she seriously doubted Deuteronomy would think of it that way. After all, he hadn’t even known this Skinnamalinker had kittens.
Skinnamalinker, now, she was a strange one. Jellylorum wasn’t sure what to make of her, even if she was as reliable with her information as Deuteronomy had suggested. Even if she was such an informant, there was obviously something more to her than that.
Her thoughts were curtailed as a young male kitten, about the age of many of the kittens in the Junkyard, raced out from a flowering bush in front of her, laughing. Jellylorum blinked for a minute before studying him intently.
The kitten was a mix of brown and gray, patched with white. Any trace of Skinnamalinker’s ginger had been washed away in the gene pool. Unlike his mother’s, his eyes were an honest yellow.
"ADMETUS!" called a voice from the bushes. "’Metus, where are you?!" A moment later, another kitten burst through, hot on the other’s trail.
This kitten was older than the other, and his coat was splotched with brown, gray, black, and white, the brown hinted ever-so-slightly with Skinnamalinker’s ginger. His eyes were the same shade of yellow as the other kitten’s.
"Admetus? Wha—?" he got no further, for it was then that he saw Jellylorum.
And for the first time she could remember, Jellylorum was speechless.
At first Mungojerrie thought it was a shadow, but he immediately dismissed the notion. No shadow he had ever seen had eyes that glimmered like coals waiting to be ignited. He was only half-conscious of opening his mouth, allowing the air in the room to run across his Jacobson’s organ, the smell/taste that was suddenly introduced quite different from before—sharp, crackly, and restless, while still, thick, and cloying at the same time.
Of course he knew what those smell/tastes were. Even the youngest of kittens can identify fear and death.
Off to his left, Demeter bristled, her fur on end and her eyes full of fire. She pressed herself up against him, lips curled defiantly back from her teeth as she faced this nameless terror. Mungojerrie could feel her heart thudding in her chest.
He could see Rumpelteazer a little to his right. Her fur was fluffed out, her green eyes flashing, but she looked much calmer than Demeter. Mungojerrie, however, knew that her fear was not much less than Demeter’s.
Whatever was lurking in the shadows knew it too.
The creature emerged from the blackness in the room’s corners now, identifiable as a cat, though his black coat was scruffy and matted, as if grooming was a forgotten art to him. A scraggly tail lashed furiously behind him, shoulders rolling as if on ball bearings as he moved.
He smiled, displaying a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth, their immaculate whiteness out of place with the rest of his appearance. He spoke again, his voice still the same tone as before, hollow and empty, like a deserted tomb.
"Ah…new kittens."
Macavity snarled irritably as he watched Fred dart about the room, staying carefully out of the ginger cat’s reach. The Hidden Paw’s tail flitted behind him as he stamped a paw down, feeling it sink into the forest-green carpet.
"Fred, sit still," he commanded. The long-haired kitten glared at him, a snarl on his lips.
"Wot didja do wi’ Mungojerrie an’ Rumpelteazer?" he hissed, pausing to look the ginger cat in the eye.
He’s not short of nerve, Macavity thought. He’ll make a good addition to my organization—if I can get him trained! With a sigh, the Mystery Cat heaved himself down on his haunches, wrapping his tail around his forepaws.
"Macavity?" called an all-too-familiar screechy, feminine voice, coming from the canopy bed pressed up against the wall.
"What?" snarled Macavity, glaring at his mother. Aemilia always managed to show up when he least wanted her to. What had his father seen in her, anyway?
His father. Maryaridi. Once Maryaridi had been the Napolean of Crime, lord of a vast network of felines, all pledged to serve him in some way, shape, or form—and now he was nothing more than a bloodstained lump of ginger fur, no doubt picked clean by the crows—if that much was left of him.
Fred hissed again, and Macavity snapped out of his recollections. Aemilia regarded him steadily, yellow eyes unblinking. Her tailtip twitched ever-so-subtly.
The tension contained within the room suddenly snapped as a scratching and shoving against the door resulted in a bristling Hortensio rushing in. The brown tom seemed apprehensive to speak, at first, his back arched the tiniest bit.
"Sire, your br—Meriardi is nowhere to be found!"
Demeter hissed again, pressing even closer to Mungojerrie. She sensed the black tom’s demonic presence even more so and in a different way than the other two did, and it frightened her. The tabbies caught the essence of him, but Demeter could feel the emotions surrounding him, sending a shiver of fear down her spine.
The tomcat stretched lazily, finely-honed claws tearing up large chunks of carpeting. His glittering black eyes turned towards Demeter, and she slumped against Mungojerrie, the strength somehow fled from her body as if yanked out by an invisible hand.
Before anyone could engage in any sort of physical contact, the door swung open, and in leapt Macavity. Anger sparked in his eyes at the sight of the black tom, and he bristled, claws raking the floor.
The other cat turned towards Macavity, hissing. As the two circled towards each other, there was the sound of footsteps and then Hortensio was there, blazing brown presence strangely reassuring to the tabby kittens.
Though it didn’t seem too important at the time, Rumpelteazer noticed the murderous glance the Hidden Paw shot swiftly in their direction, and she guessed that they weren’t supposed to have met Demeter. She licked her lips nervously, staring at the floor until the ginger cat looked away.
It looked as though this would be settled the tomcat way. Macavity and Hortensio versus the black tom, all involved parties bristling, backs arched, eyes blazing, snarls set on their lips. The tomcat way was what it all boiled down to—one way or another, some tomcat would die.
Rumpelteazer had a horrible feeling of nausea, one that crashed through her like a wave upon sand. The feeling was brought on by fear, fear that the black tom might actually defeat Hortensio and Macavity. It wasn’t that she felt personally about either of them, but she knew perfectly well that two bristling tomcats were all that stood between her and certain death.
Before the activity and tension passed its boiling point, before the claws of one tom were in another’s throat, before Mungojerrie finally had to shift so he could support Demeter—the door was pushed open a little further and in strode Aemilia, snarling irritably, prodding Fred ahead of her. Another wave swept through Rumpelteazer, this time one of relief.
"Macavity! Meriardi!" Aemilia snapped, shoving Fred off to one side. Her eyes flashed, but with annoyance more than anger, like a mother lecturing a kitten who’s pounced on her tail one time too many. Her tail lashed furiously as she stamped a forepaw against the floor. "Stop it this instant!"
Macavity turned to glare at his mother, but his fur began to flatten, as did the black tom’s. They still glowered furiously at each other, and Hortensio remained in his protective crouch at Macavity’s side. Aemilia snarled, jerking her head in the direction of the still-open door. Growling softly, Macavity and the black tom—Meriardi—followed her out, Hortensio guarding the door to prevent the kittens’ escape.
Demeter moaned softly, and Mungojerrie shifted in an embarrassed manner. The younger female staggered weakly to her feet, blinking slowly as she glanced at Fred.
The long-haired kitten raised an eyebrow at her before looking away. "Mungo…’Teazer…’o’s she?" he inquired, settling into a sitting position.
Rumpelteazer, feeling less afraid now that Meriardi was out of the room, moved a few steps away from Mungojerrie before answering. "Fred, ‘is I’ Demeter. Demeter, Fred." The two regarded each other steadily for a few minutes before Demeter sat back and began nonchalantly washing a paw.
It was composure grooming, Rumpelteazer realized. It wasn’t as if there was any real need for Demeter to groom herself, but she needed to regain her composure after the effect Meriardi had had on her.
Mungojerrie ran his toungue nervously over his lips, green eyes darting in the direction of Hortensio, who was watching impassively from the doorway, before speaking.
"Wot d’we do now?"
Intense maternal anger fairly radiated forth from Aemilia as she paced back and forth, eyes locker intently on the pair seated before her, neither one raising their head except to glower at the other.
"Macavity…Meriardi…you know I do not like dealing with either of your problems, or breaking up your fights, but it must be done," she began, her voice smooth and icy. "I have no choice—,"
"Mother, I’m the one in charge here, not you!" Macavity hissed suddenly, eyes blazing. He stomped his forepaw down furiously on the floor. "Father wouldn’t’ve stopped me! He knew the right way to punish wrongdoers!"
Aemilia didn’t like being interrupted any more than her son did. She paused in her pacing, claws digging into the carpeting. "You may be the Hidden Paw," she snarled, her voice cold enough to freeze water in July, "but I am your mother. Remember that. Also, remember that if your father were here, you would not be in charge. It is by luck of being both firstborn and your father’s favorite that you are the Hidden Paw." Macavity nodded slowly, yellow gaze locked on the ground.
She turned towards Meriardi now. "Now, you," she continued. "You had no business trying to murder any of them. The two tabbies are Macavity’s new recruits, and you know the other queen is not to be touched. Understand?"
The black tom nodded slowly, eyes settled on her. "Yes."
The reddish-brown queen allowed herself a tight smile. "Now, both of you rub cheeks and apologize." She didn’t bother trying to conceal her dry amusement.
Macavity hissed, but he did as he was told, back and tail bristling as he rubbed his cheek against Meriardi’s. You could never trust Meriardi. He wasn’t considered an assassin for nothing.
"Now, Meriardi, you go amuse yourself elsewhere," said Aemilia, the emphasis suggesting he’d better not kill any henchcats. "Macavity, you make arrangements for the kittens."
Meriardi nodded stiffly, slinking off into the shadows without another word to either of them. Macavity hissed at the black tom’s retreating figure.
"Macavity," snarled Aemilia, tail lying on the floor, tip twitching faintly. "Forget him for now. You have to assign them mentors, and I know you’ll have to speak to Zanzibar. Being the Hidden Paw is a lot of work, besides having a lot of power." She purred falsely.
Power I know you’ve love to get your paws on, Macavity thought, flashing his eyes indignantly. Aloud he said, "I know the procedures, Mother," before whirling around and striding purposefully back into the room. He nodded his head in acknowledgement to Hortensio, who inclined his front half in a low bow.
"All right, kittens. I don’t think Meriardi will be bothering you for awhile—if he ever bothers you again," Macavity said, allowing himself a smug smile. "However, you are members of my organization now, and the standard procedure is for a new member to be assigned a mentor, to give them training aside what they shall receive as ‘basic knowledge.’ " He paused, thinking for a moment. "Mungojerrie, Rumpelteazer, you go with Hortensio."
The two tabbies exchanged weak smiles, for from what experience they had, Hortensio wasn’t the worst cat they could be stuck with. Their smiles faded as they realized that Fred’s mentor would be a different cat, and Demeter merely stood off to the side looking faint.
"Fred, now…" Macavity paused. This kitten had been rather aggravating, but he would be useful once trained. The question was…which of his henchcats deserved to be stuck with a kitten like Fred?
Once he had an answer, a few minutes later, it seemed surprisingly simple. "Fred, come with me. I’ll take you to meet Tsrudakire." He flitted his tail in the direction of the door, giving Hortensio a sharp nod with a simple meaning—Stay here. "Fred?"
The fluffy kitten eyes Macavity warily, standing slowly and walking towards him. The ginger cat smiled thinly, leading the way out of the room and into the hallway.
Aemilia was suddenly at his side, whispering in his ear. "D’you really think poor Tsrudakire should have Fred dumped on her?" The reddish-brown queen flitted her tail in Fred’s direction.
Macavity laughed humorlessly. "Isn’t it more a question of whether or not poor Fred deserves to be dumped on Tsrudakire?" He laughed again, softer this time, and motioned for Fred to follow him down another hallway.
A thin tabby tom was hurrying the other way, but came to an abrupt stop when he recognized the Hidden Paw. "Er, kin I ‘elp y’with somethin’, Sire?"
The ginger cat drew himself up to his full height, motioning Fred closer. "Yes. Bring Tsrudakire to me, now."
The tabby blinked. "You…Tsrudakire…but, Sire, she isn’t…"
Macavity hissed irritably, his tail lashing so violently it was a wonder it didn’t fall out. "Don’t be disgusting. Bring her to me, now." His voice carried a flat and menacing tone.
The tabby bobbed his head quickly. "Er, yessir, right away, sir." He skittered off, pausing every so often to incline his head towards Macavity, at least as long as the ginger cat was in view.
The Mystery Cat sighed, giving Fred a stern look before settling down in a ‘meatloaf’ shape, eyes half-closed. Yes, he was finally beginning to accomplish things besides lounging on a pillow issuing death threats. He was finding out that there was much more to his position than that.
He heard the sound of two sets of pawpads approaching and stood up slowly, making sure Fred hadn’t run off. The tabby tom entered, walking ahead of a queen. He executed a low, servile bow before dashing off, leaving the queen with Macavity.
Though he had seen her before, Macavity’s gaze flickered up and down her length once more. She had a small and slender build, with delicate paws and a well-built head. Her short, glossy, coat was mostly white, patched with a rich chocolate-brown on the head, sides, and flanks. Her eyes were examples of the stereotypical almond-shaped cat’s eyes, the color looking as if various shades of gold, brown, and amber had been thrown into a melting pot.
All in all, she was a finely made little queen, her slender tail waving daintily as she flashed her brightest smile in Macavity’s direction. He allowed himself a thin smile, tail more or less still for the moment.
"You wanted me, Sire?" she said, her voice high and lilting, an eager edge in the tone thinly disguised. She sat, settling herself gracefully and wrapping her tail around her forepaws.
"Yes, Tsrudakire. I believe I have something to help prove those talents you have, of which you continually speak of," Macavity began, shooting Fred a furious glare, telling him that he’d better not run away.
Her eyes lit up, and she stretched her forepaws in a pert manner. "Why, Macavity, what is it you had in mind?"
The corners of his lips twitched upwards as he gestured towards the gray-black kitten. "I have a mentee for you." Fred eyed the queen warily, shifting from paw to paw.
A frown crossed Tsrudakire’s face, and there was no mistaking the fact that her tailtip had twitched, however subtle it was. "You mean I’m his mentor?"
Macavity smiled falsely, speaking in the same tone used to explain things to little kittens. "Yes, Tsrudakire, you’re his mentor."
She pursed her lips, and Fred couldn’t tell this wasn’t her top choice for a reason for an audience with Macavity. There was a long and uncomfortable silence, but the dainty queen finally nodded.
"All right, Macavity, if you insist," she sighed.
He nodded. "Good. Take him to your quarters for now. I’ll see you both again in the morning."
"Just a minute," Tsrudakire said suddenly. "Why hasn’t Zanzibar ever been a mentor?"
"Because her position is of more importance than yours," Macavity said shortly, flipping his tail in her face before striding confidently down the hallway.
Hortensio waited until Macavity returned, then he bowed his head respectfully and asked permission to take the two to his quarters. The ginger cat smiled thinly, nodding his head slowly. The brown tomcat motioned to Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer, and the three headed off down the hallway.
Once they were safely out of earshot, paws making little sound as they tread dusty corridors on light feline feet, Hortensio smiled, pausing to stretch his forelegs. The tabby kittens exchanged quick glances, unsure of what to do.
Hortensio laughed. "Kits, always speak your minds in my presence, but don’t always take that liberty when others are around." He heaved himself down, using his precise inner balance to aid him as he extended a hindleg and began to wash with slow, deliberate sweeps of his sandpaper toungue. He stopped suddenly, the sound he made somewhere between a chuckle and a purr. "You’re lucky I’m your mentor, and not someone like Ambelodon or Tsrudakire."
Rumpelteazer frowned, recognizing both names. "Whoy, wot’s t’ma’er wi’ Tsrudakire?"
A harsh laugh found its way out of Hortensio, bitter and humorless. "Lots of things, young ‘Teazer. Of course, most of them happen in the spring…" He paused, glancing at the kittens. "You do know what happens in the spring?"
Had Hortensio asked this question of a human the kittens’ age, it is doubtful such a child would have known, unless his household were a strange one. However, some primal instinct within them stirred at that moment, the same instinct that leads people to mistakenly believe that lust is an entirely bestial emotion, and they knew.
Hortensio seemed satisfied with their unsure nods, and continued. "Well, most queens are a bit more light-headed than normal then, some toms as well. Well, alley cats at least, house pets usually don’t have the same things happening…" He made a rude noise in the back of his throat, showing the typical opinion for spaying procedures. "No excuse, however. Tsrudakire was constantly offering her opinion on which queen and which tom should ‘spend time alone,’ and she wasn’t very subtle about it—going up to the queen, mentioning what she thought to the tom…and she actually thought we would follow her ‘advice.’ "
Mungojerrie was quiet for a moment before speaking. "Does she ‘ave a’y kit’ens?"
"No, that’s the irony of it," said Hortensio, curling his lip scornfully. "She’s broken many a tom’s heart, but I don’t think she even knows how to use what she so blithely suggests to others." He snorted.
Rumpelteazer cocked her head. "Whoy’s tha’?"
Hortensio’s tail twitched irritably. "Most of us in the organization have known for quite some time now…" He paused for dramatic effect. "She’s saving herself for Macavity! "
Mungojerrie was only half-conscious of shutting his mouth, the jaw having dropped in surprise for a moment. Rumpelteazer stared, shifting from paw to paw uncomfortably before breaking the silence. "T’en wot’s she goo’ for?"
Hortensio lowered his leg, raising the other one. "She has her uses—attracts new members like a magnet. Promise a tom an unspayed queen, and he joins without hesitation. Show him an unspayed queen—especially in spring—and he’s eating out of your paw…" He sighed, then stood up, stretching once more. "But never mind. As for Macavity, Tsrudakire doesn’t have a chance, and the only one who doesn’t know it is Tsrudakire. C’mon now, follow me, we’re almost to my quarters…"
Rumpelteazer leaned in closer to Mungojerrie as they continued, whispering so only he could hear, "Oi ‘ope Fred’s okay."