Chapter Fifteen

Bombalurina purred contentedly, wrapping her flame-colored tail around her kits. It had only been a few weeks since their traumatic birth, and despite the fact they were born prematurely, they had grown quickly. Their eyes had opened and they had begun to wobble about precociously.

Deuteronomy entered the den with a warm smile, leaning over to kiss her forehead gently before turning his attention to his newest offspring. Even though he'd been a father more times than he cared to remember, he was always amazed and delighted with each new addition to his family. Mistoffelees and Jemima were no exception—they were beautiful, happy kits, with sparkling eyes and magnetic personalities. Like their mother, they seemed to draw cats to them with their fresh-faced joie de vivre.

Bomba smiled at her mate's antics. Moments like this always made the hard times worth it. She had suffered a lot, and life was not promising to get any easier, but if she were given just a few more moments of happiness, then she would never complain. The unconditional love that her kits held for her filled her need to be adored and accepted, but there was something else she hadn't expected. Her love for the kits provided the missing piece—finally, she could love someone wholeheartedly, unabashedly, without fear of rejection or betrayal. She loved Deuteronomy, and in her own way she loved her sister and her servants, but there was always a certain element of pain in those relations. Deuteronomy had been unfaithful; Demeter had abandoned her at times. But her kits simply loved her—no games, no stipulations, no expectations, no room for hatred or spitefulness or hurt. Just love. And she could simply love them in return. It was a liberating feeling.

Jellylorum was not the world's most patient cat. At first, she had been stunned and angered over the birth of Bombalurina's pure-blood kits, but now that she'd had time to think things out, she was ready to move. If only Demeter would visit the Harem again.

Luckily, she had gotten Cassandra to bribe Alonzo into delivering a message to the Kitteni Queen (she could only imagine what the bribe entailed). Demeter had agreed to meet her, despite their very rocky past.

Jellylorum knew that Bomba had given birth to a stillborn—she also knew that she was responsible for that death. Surprisingly, Bombalurina had not told anyone how the kit died. If she had, Deuteronomy would have had Jellylorum executed for sure. And if Demeter had known, she certainly wouldn't have agreed to meet with the Felinestine Queen.

This only made Jellylorum wonder what Bomba was up to. If the red queen had wanted revenge, all she had to do was tell Deuteronomy the truth behind the kitten's stillbirth. So why didn't she?

The calico queen's thoughts were interrupted by Demeter's voice, "What do you want, Felinestine?"

Jellylorum turned to Demeter with a forced smile, "Ah, Kitteni. You finally grace us with your presence."

"What do you want?" Demeter repeatedly flatly.

"An alliance," Jellylorum did not mince words.

Demeter gave a humorless laugh. "And what makes you think I need your help?"

"Oh, you will," Jellylorum gave a soft smile. She deftly changed the subject, "Your sister's kits have the blood of the Rumpus Cat in their veins, do they not?"

"You know they do," Demeter replied with an exasperated sigh. She continued with a smug smile, "Their bloodline ensures that they will be the next Jellicle Leaders. So I ask you again: why do I need your help?"

Jellylorum gave a shark smile. So Demeter didn't know that dearest Bombie had signed away her kits' claim to the throne. Perfect.

"Someone will have to protect your precious niece and nephew once their daddy leaves the throne," Jellylorum reminded her. "Do you honestly think you can do it all on your own?"

"If I needed help, I most certainly would not ask for yours, Felinestine," Demeter spat the last word. "I know plenty of cats who have more power and better reputations than you."

There was a moment of silence as the two queens stared at each other. At this point, the conversation could go in any direction, and it could become violent very quickly.

"You despise me, don't you?" Jellylorum replied viewing Demeter with detached amusement. "You think me weak for succumbing to Deuteronomy. You think me degenerate for using sex to get what I want. But you forget: we are nothing more than prisoners here, despite our lofty titles. Our charms are our only currency, and everything has a price."

"Perhaps I have found another currency," Demeter replied.

"Which explains why all your plans have failed," Jellylorum commented dryly. Demeter bristled at the barb, but she knew the calico queen was right. Jellylorum continued with a smile, "But you already knew that, didn't you? That's why you sold your sister to Deuteronomy—"

"I did not—"

"Your sister sleeps with Deuteronomy and you are left in peace—a good trade, even if it comes at the cost of your sister's happiness—"

"She chose to go with him," Demeter growled, her voice dripping with venom.

Jellylorum arched her eyebrows in mock surprise, "Ah, so now we reach the truth of the matter—you hate Bombalurina for being weak, too, don't you? You hate her for being so easily ruled, so easily won. She has betrayed you—"

"That's not true—"

Jellylorum simply smiled, but her dark eyes stared fiercely into Demeter's jade ones, "Then look me in the eye and tell me it isn't true. Tell me that you don't hate her, that you do not despise her weakness. Tell me—"

"I do not hate my sister." Demeter spoke quietly, although it was obvious that she was keeping a flurry of emotions at bay. She took a deep breath to steady her pounding nerves. "I hate Deuteronomy for making her weak."

There was a moment of deadly silence.

"Aha," Jellylorum said softly. "I see."

The Queen of the Felinestines studied Demeter, who stared at the ground.

"So," Jellylorum spoke in a low tone. "If Deuteronomy is removed, his hold over Bombalurina will disappear as well."

Demeter nodded slowly. She knew where this was headed, but she waited for Jellylorum to continue—she would not be the first one to speak of treason.

"And how exactly do you propose that Deuteronomy be removed?" Jellylorum asked carefully. She, too, seemed to shy away from speaking of murder.

"I do not know," Demeter replied in a guarded tone.

"Say it, Demeter," Jellylorum challenged. "Say it."

The black and gold queen stared defiantly at her, taking a moment before finally speaking that dreadful word, "Murder."

"That's right," Jellylorum sat back with a satisfied air. "Murder."

There was another awful silence.

"I still don't understand why I would need your help," Demeter stated.

"Don't you see?" Jellylorum leaned forward, her green eyes glittering with malicious glee. "Once Deuteronomy is gone, all of his offspring will be vying for the throne. And out of all his kits, your sister's litter and my son, Asparagus, are the only ones with legitimate claims—claims stronger than Munkustrap's or Tugger's! Bombalurina's children will be too young to claim the throne—someone will have to be named Regent."

"That someone naturally being Asparagus," Demeter commented dryly.

"Who else?" Jellylorum asked. "He is the only one who has the right to rule in their stead. Once they come of age, he will give it back to them. He has the backing and the power to do it, Demeter; trust me. He can keep them safe."

"And what do you get out of all this?" Demeter crossed her arms over her chest skeptically.

"My freedom," Jellylorum stated simply. "And to see my mate again. Our son will free both of us, and we will leave this awful place. That's all we want."

"I thought Asparagus was Deuteronomy's son," Demeter commented with a wry smile.

Jellylorum gave a wicked grin of her own, "Well, he is in name. Toms are so desperate to believe any kit is their own, even when all evidence points to the contrary."

Demeter couldn't help but laugh at the comment—after all, she doubted Mistoffelees and Jemima's paternity. Bombalurina's pregnancy was too close to her encounter with Macavity. The thought of Deuteronomy accepting Macavity's bastards as his own pure-blooded heirs was too wonderful.

But the black and gold queen could not swallow her pride—not enough to accept Jellylorum's help. There was too much danger involved in dealing with Cassandra and Jellylorum.

"I'm afraid I can't accept your offer," Demeter stepped back.

"I see," Jellylorum said quietly. She forced a smile. "Well, it was worth trying."

Demeter gave a vague nod, moving further away from the calico queen. "I have to go now. Bombalurina needs me."

"Of course," Jellylorum gave another soft smile. She watched the Kitteni queen walk away with an impassive expression.

Cassandra sidled up to her, "You're really going to let her just walk away?"

"She'll be back," Jellylorum replied.

"You don't know that," Cass retorted.

"Oh, yes I do," Jellylorum smiled.

"She said no," Cassandra reminded her.

Jellylorum nodded, "But she hesitated."

"Come," Deuteronomy offered his paw to his mate. "We mustn't be late tonight."

"What is so special about tonight?" Bomba wondered aloud. She secretly hoped it was a surprise for her—after all, it was her birthday.

"Victoria will dance tonight," Deuteronomy smiled. "For you."

Bombalurina tried to hide the instant distaste she felt. She hated the young queen with every fiber of her being—she hated the way everyone carried on over the white queen's beauty and prowess, how Victoria was the absolute darling of every Jellicle function. It was enough to make a lesser queen go insane.

"Come," Bomba stood and motioned for the kits to exit. They simply smiled and scampered happily out of the den. She wanted to slap Deuteronomy for being so inconsiderate—after all, tonight was supposed to be about her, not that albino orphan!—but she simply steeled her anger and forced a smile.

Sometimes the red queen amazed herself—she had changed so much in the last year, so much in the last month! Once there was a time when she would have snapped back at him, and once there was a time when she would have simply sighed and moped. Now she just took every slight in stride and told herself that anything was worth keeping her kits safe.

They arrived with the usual pomp and circumstance; the crowd cheered wildly at the sight of the lovely royal family. Mistoffelees and Jemima waved back enthusiastically, giggling with delight.

Deuteronomy and Bombalurina exchanged warm smiles over their kits' antics and took their seats on the tire.

Misto bounded up to his father, "One day this seat will be mine, won't it, Father?"

"Perhaps," Deuteronomy replied diplomatically.

"Auntie Dem told me so," the young kit returned emphatically. "She said I was the only one of your kits who had royal blood. I am the only one worthy of becoming the Jellicle Leader."

"Not the only one," Jemima shoved him aside playfully. She sat down prissily next to her father, the very image of her own brazen mother, "I have royal blood too. Pappa will have to decide which one of us will rule."

"And there will be many years before that decision is made, so bite your tongues," Bombalurina said quickly. Her tone was motherly and loving, but there was a fear behind her dark eyes.

Deuteronomy leaned over and whispered in her ear, "What has your damned sister been teaching them?"

"They are entitled to know their bloodline," Bomba returned softly. "Even if their inheritance was stolen from them."

"Stolen?" Deuteronomy spoke too loudly; a few cats seated around the royal couple looked up in alarm. The Jellicle Leader tried to control his rising temper. He hissed at his mate, "You and I both know very well that you signed over their rights, Madame. Those entitlements were willingly ceded."

The red queen gave a light, humorless laugh, "Did I really have any choice, my love? I was heartsick for you, and deathly afraid at the same time. I would have cut off my right paw if you had commanded me to."

Deuteronomy looked at her, as if seeing a stranger, "And now?"

She gave an amused grin, "Now what?"

"Do you feel the same?" He asked quietly. "Are you still heartsick for me?"

She gave a light little sigh, looking out at the festivities. "It is not what it once was, but I do still love you."

The Jellicle Leader gently took her paw and kissed it. She smiled softly, never looking back at him. It was her game, her way to keep him close to her, and she played it to the teeth. She was at turns distant, almost cold, then soft and loving, at times fierce, then fearful. It was a constant masquerade, a complex sport to keep him interested. Deuteronomy bored easily, and being his mate was no easy task. But it was her destiny, and she was a Kitteni. She could do anything that she put her mind to. Anything.

Munkustrap jumped into the spotlight, "And now, in honor of our great Queen, we shall have a dance, performed by our own Moonlight Queen!"

The crowd went wild, as usual. Bombalurina never lost her stoic smile, although underneath the mask she was seething with jealousy.

"Oh, I want to be just like Victoria when I grow up," Jemima said dreamily as she did a little twirl. It took every ounce of self control that Bomba possessed to keep her from slapping her daughter. It was infuriating enough that the white rat had stolen her spotlight, must she also take Bomba's own daughter as well?

She could not watch Victoria; she turned her attention to other cats in the yard. Suddenly, she noticed Tugger—he was staring at her with an almost pained expression. She looked at him curiously; she couldn't understand the meaning behind his glance. Eventually, he simply turned away.

Bomba pondered his glance for quite some time. It was not the gaze of a lovesick tom, it held something akin to regret, and perhaps…pity?

But why should he pity me? The red queen asked herself. Am I not the mate to the most powerful cat in London, the Queen of the Jellicle, the mother of two beautiful kits? What is to be pitied about that?

Bomba turned to speak to her mate, but her breath caught in her throat. Suddenly she understood Tugger's pity. She watched her mate's face—she saw the smile on his lips and she was instantly filled with fear. She knew that look, the same hungry gaze that he'd worn the moment he first laid eyes on her. That look, which once made her heart skip a beat with breathless anticipation, now turned her heart to stone, sinking into her stomach with dreadful anticipation.

Deuteronomy was in love with Victoria. And there was nothing Bomba could do about it.

Demeter found her sister crying in the garden the next morning.

"Oh, what are you blubbering about?" Demeter asked tartly. Bombalurina's odd mood swings were getting on her nerves.

"Everything," the red queen replied with another sob. She gave a heavy sigh, "And nothing."

Demeter looked to Admetus for a translation; the tom merely shrugged in response. He was just as confused by Bomba's tears as Demeter was.

"Perhaps you can be a little more specific," Demeter prodded, trying to keep her temper in check. Her patience had been on a short string lately—everyone, including Macavity, seemed to be dragging their paws, and her plans were going nowhere.

"Not with you," Bomba sobbed again.

"What does that mean?" Demeter asked. Her younger sister simply looked up at her with a sorrowed expression.

"You would hate me forever," she whispered. "Even more than you hate me now."

"I don't hate you," Demeter assured her. Then, a strange tone came into her voice, "Besides, what could you do that was so awful?"

Bombalurina began to cry even harder. Demeter looked back to Admetus, but once again, the tom was no help.

"Please leave," Bomba said quietly, her eyes downcast. She didn't dare look her sister in the eye. "Go check on the kits. Go see Macavity—just please go."

Demeter stood there for a moment, observing by her sister's strange behavior. Then, with an exasperated sigh, she simply walked away. But as she did, she gently pulled Admetus to the side and whispered in his ear, "Find out what troubles her. And tell me as soon as you know."

"I am your sister's servant," Admetus looked at her steadily. "Not yours."

Demeter stepped back, shocked by his sudden show of bravado. "I see my sister has a faithful friend in you, sir. Though I doubt she'll notice. She's so deep in pity and self-loathing, she hardly notices anything these days. I thought you'd want to help her."

"Telling her secrets to you would help no one," Admetus replied evenly. He turned his attention back to the red queen, silently ending the conversation.

Demeter gave a light laugh of surprise. "Well played, Admetus. But I won't forget this. You'd best be wary."

Admetus did not acknowledge her last statement, although his heart pounded wildly inside his chest. Demeter was not a cat to be taken lightly, and they both knew it. He heard her slip away and the tom let out the breath he'd been holding. He was not stupid—he feared her, he feared that dark and ugly power lurking inside her small frame. He cast his sorrowed eyes upon Bombalurina, and despite his fear, he knew he'd done the right thing. Above all, Admetus' sense of honor had prevailed. Bast only knew where that would lead them.

"It's been over a week."

"I can count the days, thank you very much," Jellylorum snapped.

"Perhaps you're wrong about her," Cassandra was completely unphased by the Felinestine's obvious anger.

"Perhaps I should have chosen a better accomplice."

"You wouldn't have found a truer or better helpmate," Cass shot back lazily. Then, without any change in her tone, she added, "Deuteronomy seems quite besotted with our young Victoria. I wager that he'll oust our glorious Kitteni by summer."

"How quickly passion cools," Jellylorum mused dryly.

"Can you blame him?" The grey queen asked. "Bombalurina was once a beautiful, fiery thing. Now she's a mere kit, a sop, a total bore. And what's more, she's completely absorbed with her kittens—no time to worry about Deuteronomy's needs. And you and I both know that he was never one for the domestic life."

Jellylorum chuckled darkly, "Quite true, gypsy."

There was a contented silence. Finally, Cassandra asked the question that had been on her mind all morning, "How is he?"

Jellylorum didn't ask who "he" was. She knew. She had slipped out of the Harem last night to visit her exiled mate, Gus. Of course Cassandra knew all of the comings and goings of the yard—she was well aware of Jellylorum's journey into the dark woods.

"Not well," Jellylorum sighed. "He is slowly sinking into madness. He constantly looks to the past—always remembering our feats and festivals, remembering how he led the masquerades and entertained the court with his talents. He only thinks of the golden days."

"He was a great king," Cassandra said softly. "He was well loved by his subjects and foreigners alike."

"Except by Deuteronomy," Jellylorum replied darkly.

"Deuteronomy respected him," Cassandra reminded her. "And feared him. That's why Gus is in exile."

"My mate is in exile because Deuteronomy wanted to have me to himself," Jellylorum spoke in an emotionless tone. She had learned a long time ago to hide her anger.

"That was part of it," Cass agreed. "But Asparagus was a gracious king, a loving father to all in his tribe—the Jellicles would have fallen in love with him as well, and where would Deuteronomy be then?"

Jellylorum simply smirked. It was true—Deuteronomy was nothing compared to her own mate. In the height of his power, Asparagus had been a gregarious, vibrant tom with a compassionate heart and a love for laughter. And he had loved her beyond all reason.

"He doesn't remember me anymore," the calico queen spoke softly. For once, her emotions got the best of her—there was a crack, almost a sob, in her voice. "He looks through me, as if I were made of glass. And he asks…he asks where his mate is."

Jellylorum looked away forlornly, taking a deep, shaky breath to control the sobs fluttering in her chest as she remembered the night before. He had spoken of his love—young, beautiful, the most enchanting queen in the world. And all the while Jellylorum stood there, slowly dying because the queen he remembered was no longer the queen who stood before him. She had grown old, grown away, grown apart from him. Nothing could bring him back to her. She was utterly, completely devastated.

"You will not believe this, gypsy," Jellylorum spoke dryly, turning to observe herself in the mirror, gently tracing the lines that now ravaged her once-immaculate face. "But I was once a very kind queen. I was beautiful, I was loved above all others by the greatest tom, the kingliest king in all the world, and I was happy."

She stared at her reflection, as if looking at a stranger. In a broken-hearted whisper, she reminded herself, "Once, oh once, I was happy."

"Once again!" Victoria commanded, motioning to the orchestra. She stretched out her shapely legs and took the first position of her waltz.

Bill Bailey simply sighed, but he did not remind the white queen that they had been rehearsing for over two hours. She was obsessive about her performances and demanded perfection in every step before she would allow the orchestra to stop their accompaniment.

Tugger watched his friend's obvious discomfort with an amused expression. Victoria was young, a bit foolish and headstrong perhaps, but her determination was quite impressive.

"Oi wouldn't fall for that one," Rumpleteaser said quietly, interrupting the maine coon's thoughts. Tugger turned around sharply, surprised by her voice.

"Teaser, you scared me."

"Dohn' waste your toime on 'er," the tiger-striped queen looked at him gravely. "Unless ya simply want Daddy dearest to take the object of your affection away again."

Tugger gave an irritated sigh. In a moment of weakness, he had confided in Rumpleteaser—besides Bombalurina, she was the only one who knew of his feelings for the red queen. It was obviously a mistake, for now she was using it against him.

"What are you on about?" He asked sharply. "I don't care anything about Victoria."

"It's just as well," Teaser shrugged prettily. "Because your father certainly cares."

"How do you know?" Tugger asked suspiciously.

"Oi can see it in 'is eyes," came the honest reply. "Anyone wif ha'ffa brain can see it."

Tugger contemplated her words. He had known about his father's feelings towards Victoria-he had noticed it weeks ago. But if others were noticing, surely there were rumors. He knew they would eventually reach Bombalurina. He sadly wondered how she would take the news.

Bombalurina was crying, yet again. And again Admetus was completely helpless, unsure of what to say or how to ease her tears. This was the third time in a single week that she had spent the day sobbing quietly in her garden whilst her kits played in the flowers, oblivious to their mother's pain.

"What ails you, Madame?" Admetus asked quietly. "Surely there is something I could do to help."

"I'm afraid this is beyond help, Admetus," the red queen replied tearfully.

"I see," he stepped back.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean to offend you," Bomba spoke quickly. "You are a good friend, a true companion, and for that I am most grateful. But I would not wish to drag you into my misery."

"It is my duty to serve Your Majesty," Admetus gently reminded her. "If sharing your woes is part of serving you, then I shall do so without complaint."

This sweet offer of friendship was too much for the lonely queen, who burst into a fresh onslaught of tears.

"Mama!" Jemima bounded up happily. Bomba jerked forward, quickly replacing her sorrowful expression with her manically happy smile.

"Yes, baby?" She forced a lilt into her voice, silently wiping away the tears on her pale cheeks. Her daughter did not notice.

"Look at what Misto can do!"

The black and white kit wore an expression of complete concentration as he focused on his sister. Slowly, the young queen began to levitate.

"Look, Mama!" Jemima shrieked with delight. "I'm not touching the ground!"

"How wonderful, darling!" Despite the joy in her voice, the fear behind Bombalurina's eyes was almost palpable. She motioned for both the kits to come to her. She hugged them tightly. "That was absolutely amazing, Misto—you obviously have the Jellicle powers. But let's not tell anyone about this for a while, okay?"

"Why not?" Misto looked up at his mother. "I want to show Father."

"We cannot show Father," Bomba said quickly. Her expression softened, and her tone became gentler, "We have to wait. We'll surprise him later, ok?"

"Why do we have to wait?" Jemima asked.

"It's just not a good time," her mother gently stroked the fur on her head. "Now, go play. And no more magic."

The kits dutifully scampered off, jostling and tackling each other as kittens do. Bombalurina turned to look at Admetus.

"My lips are sealed," he promised, although he had no idea why—many of Deuteronomy's offspring possessed magical powers, why should Bomba be so afraid?

She was pale—much paler than usual. She looked as if she might burst into tears at any second.

"Madame, are you alright?" He asked quietly.

"I've just done so many things wrong," Bomba shook her head sadly. "And no matter what I do, nothing can set it right again. There are so many lies, so many secrets—I don't think I can hold on for much longer."

Admetus did not know how to respond to such talk. In truth, he just wanted to shake her, to tell her to control herself, to grow tougher skin and move on, but he knew it would do more harm than good. For all her fiery temper tantrums, the red queen was little more than a delicate butterfly—easily blown about by the winds of time and chance, with inadequate strength to fight those winds and only tears to show for all her endeavors.

The night was deadly silent—not even the crickets serenaded. Spring had not quite reached London yet.

Macavity stirred slightly when Demeter gently moved his paw from her waist. On padded paws she gently creeped away.

"No farewell kiss?" Macavity's groggy voice stopped her at the door.

She turned to him and forced a gentle smile, "You were sleeping."

"There was a time when you would have kissed me anyways." His expression was hard to read in the faint moonlight, and his tone was equally emotionless.

"Nothing has changed between us," she assured him softly.

"Yet everything has changed around us," the gingertom mused dryly. "How is it that we remain untouched?"

She simply smiled—she knew the truth behind his words. Things had changed in the past few months; things between them had changed as well. She no longer spent the entire night in his arms; she no longer insisted on seeing him every day. He no longer spoke so much of love—which was her fault, since she did not deign to entertain such notions in her pragmatic brain. He had ceased to be useful to her, and she had ceased to care.

Macavity must have sense this, for now he quietly moved towards her, pulling her back to him gently, "Come back to me, Dem. Come back to me."

Surprisingly, she did not pull away. Something inside of her cried out to stay—she wanted so desperately to go back to the way things were, when they were two happy schemers, plotting a thousand twisting intrigues and playing a hundred different mind games.

But sadly, those two happy schemers did not exist anymore. Deuteronomy had outfoxed them, leaving them with nothing but straws and sand slipping through their paws.

"I can't," she quietly moved away from him. Without another word, she left.

Oh Bast, Macavity thought with a sudden rush of panic. I'm losing her.

Victoria stared at her lifeless reflection. She did the same thing that she did every other morning: remind herself of everything she had, which was nothing. Then she reminded herself of everything she had to gain, which was everything.

But you must be smart about it, she chided herself. You may be the Moonlight Queen, but next year there will be another beautiful young queen, and you'll be just another cat who can dance. You must take this opportunity while you can.

These, of course, were the exact words that Cassandra the Gypsy had told her just days before. Victoria was actually a bit frightened by the grey queen—her intensity was certainly awe-inspiring. Yet she was beautiful and hypnotically charismatic, which took the edge off her severe nature.

Victoria let her thoughts wander to the grey queen. They said she had no tribe, no land to call her own—she was a gypsy, aptly named. There were also rumors that she was an enchantress of sorts, delving into the dark arts, but one never could truly tell fact from fiction in the Harem. Victoria decided that Cassandra was very alluring—her dark looks spoke volumes of mystic knowledge and her ice blue eyes twinkled with delicious sins and secrets.

The young queen looked at her own image—she was white, too pure to look seductive or knowing; she simply looked young and naïve and completely unassuming. But that was her greatest strength—or so Cassandra had said, and who could argue with such a wise queen?

Your innocence is your gift, Cassandra had told her. Use it well—before anyone finds out the truth.

But what was the truth?

"The truth," Victoria spoke softly to her reflection. "Is that you are a silly, scared little kit playing in a game whose rules you do not know, against players who could crush you in an instant. But you have nothing to lose and everything to gain. And that makes you the most dangerous player of all."

Jellylorum stared pensively out at the world from her perch atop a mountain of discarded furniture. Being permanently confined to the Harem was absolute boredom, but from this precarious height, she could survey most of the yard.

She saw her son—handsome, charming Asparagus VI, so much like his father and yet so warped by the sordid ways of the Jellicle. He moved like a true prince, and yet he seemed so unaware of his destiny. For all intents and purposes, he was raised to believe that he was the son of Deuteronomy. It was a hard lie to tell, especially when he had so much of his real father's mannerisms. But it was a lie that served two purposes: it kept her son safe and it established a clear-cut line to the Jellicle throne.

Aside from Bombalurina, Jellylorum was the only other queen with a proper bloodline—any kit she had with Deuteronomy would immediately take precedence over the rest of his half-breed offspring, even if it was a bastard. But Jellylorum's failing point was the fact that she did not carry the blood of the Rumpus Cat in her veins, and her kit had not been recognized as legitimate. Still, in the event of a coup d'etat, Asparagus could certainly step in until Bomba's kits were old enough to rule—that is, if they survived long enough to rule. A lot can happen in four or five years—Jellylorum could make a lot happen, if that's what it took. She was not above murder, if it meant securing the crown. She was born entitled to a throne, and she would die on a throne or die trying to obtain it.

"The Jellicles love him," Cassandra's quiet voice shook Jellylorum from her thoughts. "When the time comes, they will follow him."

"How can you be so sure?" Jellylorum asked, but there was no doubt in her voice. She simply liked hearing about her son's power and popularity from others. It filled her with a deep satisfaction like nothing else could.

"I have ears, Madame." Cassandra knew too well of Jellylorum's need to be told of her son's supremacy; she dutifully played her part. "They say he is the grandest of Deuteronomy's sons—they love him even more than the Rum Tum Tugger, and that surely is a feat in itself."

"More than the Rum Tum Tugger," Jellylorum murmured softly to herself. She had not heard that one before. "My, things are going smoother than expected."

"Destiny always paves the way of the great," Cassandra replied philosophically. To be honest, she never understood why Asparagus was such a big deal, but he was the world to Jellylorum, which therefore made him the most important thing to Cassandra as well.

In truth, Cassandra felt Asparagus would not be able to keep a firm grip on the precarious Jellicle throne—ruling during times of insurrection was never easy, and it took a cat with a special kind of steel to do so. He seemed too soft, too friendly, too eager to please. No, he was not enough like his mother—Cassandra had no doubt that Jellylorum could reign over the Jellicle with little resistance, and she would have put the Felinestine on the throne, if only Jellylorum had asked her to. We often move mountains in the name of love and devotion.

But Jellylorum did not share Cassandra's vision. She saw in Asparagus something more, as mothers often do, and she felt that everyone could see how brilliant her son was—surely they would not resist bringing him to the throne! No, they would cheer for him, hoist him up there themselves! She was so desperately blinded by love—that maternal love that knows no equal—that she did not see his faults.

Cassandra gently shook her head. It was a dangerous game to play, but she would protect Jellylorum from whatever may come—even her own foolish motherly pride, if need be.

"Come," Jellylorum whirled around suddenly. "Every second my son steps closer to the throne, and we must be ready when the blessed day arrives."

The Abyssinian followed her with an inaudible sigh, "A blessed day indeed."

She was breathtaking. Every nuance of her face, every movement of her graceful body seemed to enchant anyone who looked upon her. Every step was pure poetry, every smile a song. Oh, she was sheer perfection! Yet she was so completely unaware of her own beauty that it was actually painful to see such a fair queen so oblivious to the power she held over others.

Cassandra. Victoria did not even dare whisper that name aloud, for fear of the effect it might have upon those around her. Surely the dark queen was an enchantress, for the power she held over the little white queen was insurmountable. Victoria chided herself for acting so foolishly, for even thinking such thoughts, but despite her best efforts, her mind invariably wandered back to the Abyssinian queen, who less than a fortnight ago had been a complete stranger to her.

Perhaps the term "complete stranger" was a bit much. Victoria had seen Cassandra once or twice before—she had thought the dark queen was very beautiful, and seemed quite charming to those around her. Sometimes she found herself staring at the Abyssinian, so desperate to understand her attraction to this dark queen and quite unable to. Surely it was the way Cassandra laughed—she had a pretty, high-lilting laugh that made everyone notice her. No, no, it was definitely the way she glided through the crowd, leaving a thousand breaking hearts in her wake. Perhaps it was her eyes, so captivatingly blue. Or maybe it was her dry, slightly dark humor. No matter how hard Victoria tried, she could not pick a single feature of Cassandra's that she liked best.

But all of these observations, these curiosities were only in her mind when she saw the dark queen—little more than a passing thought or fancy. It never controlled Victoria's mind, invading her every waking thought—not until now.

What had changed? Well, Cassandra had spoken to her—truly had a conversation. She had pulled the young queen aside in the dark dead of the night and told her things—such scary, magical things—about how she had the eye of Deuteronomy, how she could be the next Jellicle queen, could replace the great Bombalurina, if she wanted. For Victoria, a nobody with nothing, the promise of such greatness was too much. She had been scared, practically rendered witless, but Cassandra had placed her trust in the young queen and told Victoria that she was capable of anything she put her mind to. Suddenly, Victoria couldn't help but agree—if someone as worldly and wise as Cassandra saw something in the white queen, then surely that something must exist.

The two cats had begun meeting at night, so that Cassandra could coach the young queen into becoming the perfect bait for Deuteronomy's voracious nature. Sadly, Victoria couldn't remember much of what she had been taught—she heard Cassandra's words, but she was often so distracted by the dark queen's mere presence that her mind forgot all else.

Victoria certainly hoped that Cassandra did not realize this—she surely would think the young queen foolish, perhaps even stop giving her lessons. The mere thought of being shunned from Cassandra's presence was enough to send Victoria into a depression. She must learn not to stare so much, with such wide eyes. She must learn not to practically leap out of her skin every time Cassandra touched her. She mustn't smile so much, as if every word out of the Abyssinian's mouth was a sheer delight to her ears. She really must learn to control herself.

Control. That was a word that Cassandra used a lot. Victoria had to control the situation between her and Deuteronomy, to control the relationship so that she did not give in to Deuteronomy's charms too soon. If she lost control, if she followed her emotions, she would be used and cast aside like any other Harem tart.

She smiled at the thought. Cassandra was a Harem tart, or at least she pretended to be. The dark queen had learned long ago to use her body as a means of controlling those around her. Why, she could even control the infamous Queen of the Felinestines! It was common Harem knowledge: wherever Jellylorum went, Cassandra was sure to follow. But it wasn't the typical master-servant relationship. Through the role of subservient devotee, Cassandra had learned to manipulate Jellylorum.

"Are you ready?" The soft timbre of the Rum Tum Tugger's voice gently broke into her thoughts.

Victoria turned to him quickly, pasting on a smile, "Of course."

The maine coon offered a warm smile, "Knock 'em dead, kiddo."

Bast, he's so handsome when he smiles, Victoria thought. He was every queen's dream, and he knew it. With a deep, unsteady breath, she walked into the center of the yard, giving a small, gracious smile as the crowd cheered. She didn't dare look in Cassandra's direction. The dark queen had given the strictest instructions that no one should ever know that the two queens were anything more than passing strangers. Victoria knew that if she glanced at the Abyssinian, her face would uncontrollably break into a foolish smile—it seemed that she couldn't control anything about herself in the presence of the dark queen.

Concentrate, she reminded herself. With a quick, determined jerk of her head, she took her beginning stance, signaling for Bill Bailey to begin the waltz. The music began and an enchanted hush fell over the crowd.

Victoria lost herself in the music, in the dance, in each single breath as she held complete control over each muscle in her body, which moved smoothly, like a finely-tuned instrument. This was her moment, her one moment in time when the world stood still and nothing else mattered but the dance, the music, and the moonlight.

"Macavity!" Deuteronomy's voice boomed, shattering the stillness of the night and jerking Victoria from her reverie. The music immediately stopped and everyone turned to look at the Jellicle Leader, who wore an expression of complete fury.

The eldest son of Deuteronomy stepped forward, his voice quiet yet strong, carrying over the heads of the crowd, "Yes, Deuteronomy?"

"I have heard reports of a band of Siamese attacking my ships on the wharf—specifically my fleet led by Growltiger."

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Growltiger was the roughest cat in London, but he was a Jellicle, and Deuteronomy protected him.

"I have heard such reports as well," Macavity replied evenly. He seemed unaffected by his father's obvious anger.

"I have also heard that you aided the Siamese in their assault," Deuteronomy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "The Lady Griddlebone was part of the attack—everyone knows she works for you."

"Everyone also knows she is a free agent," Macavity shrugged carelessly. "I cannot control my compatriots' every move—"

"If you had anything to do with this, you will be charged with high treason against the mighty Jellicle," Deuteronomy's voice thundered ominously. "Do you deny these accusations?"

There was a moment of utter silence. Bombalurina felt bile rise in her throat. Demeter's heart stopped. Cassandra looked on with mild curiosity.

Macavity simply stared at his father. "I do not."

Cries of shock and dismay ran through the crowd like wildfire—the Leader's own son, a traitor! Although every last soul among them feared and hated Growltiger and would later secretly rejoice at his demise, in public they would not tolerate such actions. Growltiger was a vile cat, but a vile cat who garnered the favor of Deuteronomy, which made him untouchable.

The darkness that passed over Deuteronomy's face was truly a terrible sight. He rose to his full height, his deep voice booming throughout the yard with a metallic finality, "Macavity, son of the Jellicle, you are henceforth decreed a traitor to this tribe and are hereby sentenced to death for your crimes."

Demeter heard someone scream "No!" and then realized it was her own voice. Cassandra pulled her back, hissing ferociously in her ear, "Do you want the whole world to know, you silly fool?"

Tugger immediately looked to his brother, Munkustrap, who stared ahead calmly. Macavity had never been a contender for the throne due to his illegitimacy, but now Munkustrap truly had no other rivals for the position of Jellicle Leader.

The guard toms moved forward to take Macavity into custody, but the ginger tom simply gave a wicked smile.

"Oh, Deuteronomy, do you really think you can take me out so easily?"

With a quick flick of his paw, Macavity disappeared in a flash of smoke and fire.

The crowd stared in stunned silence at the smoking earth where Macavity had stood just moments ago. Demeter clutched her stomach, willing herself to take deep, steady breaths. In an instant, she had been so close to losing her partner, and she had realized how much she truly cared for him. Suddenly she was filled with an overwhelming desire to rush to his side.

"Don't you dare," Cassandra warned, as if reading her thoughts. "He's a traitor and a conjuror; this place will be crawling with guards and spies, all trying to find out where he is and who he's with. You'll only make things worse by going to him."

Demeter nodded. She looked up at her younger sister, who was still seated beside Deuteronomy. Bombalurina gave her a sympathetic look.

Jellylorum's words came crashing back to her: Your sister's kits have the blood of the Rumpus Cat in their veins, do they not?

It was time to claim her niece and nephew's rightful inheritance. It was time to end the reign of this fiendish Jellicle and take the throne.