"So now what?" Munkustrap asked when he and Macavity were alone.
"First, untie me," Macavity ordered, holding out his bound paws.
With some difficulty, Munkustrap undid the knots on the hard-to-cut metal ropes.
"Now draw the curtains over the windows," Macavity told him. "I don't want any curious kittens to look in and see what we're doing."
When Munkustrap had done this, he turned to find that Macavity had seated himself on a large pillow and placed another in front of him. "Sit down with me," he said, indicating the other pillow.
Munkustrap did so.
"Open yourself to your power," Macavity instructed.
Munkustrap's eyes focused inward as he obeyed. It frightened him when he realized the vast power that he now harnessed. Macavity must be nearly Old Dutironomy's equal, he thought.
"Now, what you must do," Macavity's voice sounded distant, "is open the channel. You to me and me to you…concentrate…do you see it yet?"
Munkustrap started to shake his head no, then he realized that he could almost see…something. "Sort of," he mumbled absently as he struggled to focus on it.
Macavity opened to his own powers, limited as they might be, and tried to open the channel from his end. In the purplish black that was his mind he saw a silvery blue swirl starting to open up. You've almost got it! he said excitedly. Keep focused.
I'm trying. Munkustrap returned. He, too, saw the blue swirling mass and felt himself being pulled irresistibly toward it. His instincts urged him to fight it, but he knew that he should do just the opposite. Then suddenly it was open, with silver light pouring out, and as he was pulled ever closer, he saw something else coming through from the other end, a vague shadowy form.
He was passing through the channel now, the silver light blinding him. He was vaguely aware of the body he was leaving, causing a terrible physical pain, though it was not as excruciating as the first time.
A strangled cry was ripped from the ginger cat's throat while the grey and black cat said in a strained voice, "Stay focused! Don't let it collapse!" And he, too, yelled out in pain. And then…
Munkustrap blinked furiously as he tried to get his eyes to focus. There was something right in front of him, something big and reddish in color. Gradually the afterimage of the channel faded and he found himself staring at Macavity's ginger-striped face.
"Did it work?" he breathed, hardly daring to believe his eyes. He looked down and ran his paws over his grey and black body. The missing collar, the healed scratch marks on his face, the sore spot on his temple from the bola, yes, everything was right. "It worked!"
"Ungh!" Macavity groaned, holding his head in his paws as the world spun around him. "Yes, it worked," he rasped finally, rubbing his temples. "And now," he looked up with an evil gleam in his green-gold eyes, "we can discuss that ransom."
Munkustrap maintained an outward calm, though his stomach tightened into a knot and his heart rate accelerated. He glared at Macavity through slitted eyes and growled, " I suppose it would be useless now to appeal to your sense of honor."
Macavity gave him a wide grin. "Come now, brother," he said easily, "I'm not as bad as that. I'm even grateful to you for cooperating as you did."
"I'm sorry," Munkustrap said coldly, "but I have trouble believing you seeing that sly smile of yours."
Macavity shrugged and changed the subject, "Have my tribe mates been behaving themselves for you?"
"I suppose," Munkustrap returned carefully, not sure where this line of conversation was going, "though I don't know how they behave normally."
"I was actually thinking of a specific tribe mate," Macavity said, his tone hardening a little. "Groultygur. Did he give you any trouble?"
Now Munkustrap understood what the Tyghurss chief was trying to find out. "Yes, a little," he admitted.
Macavity sighed and covered his eyes with one paw. "He and Moya had a fight, didn't they." It was not a question.
"Well, yes," Munkustrap nodded.
"Who started it and how did you handle it?" Macavity demanded.
"The second question is easier to answer," Munkustrap commented. "I allowed Vyktorea to see to them first, then I told them that they must apologize to each other before they will be allowed to hunt again as they are a disruption."
"Groultyghur will never to apologize to Moya," Macavity moaned. "How did it start, anyway?"
"It was a stupid fight," Munkustrap said, and repeated what Grizelda and Peder had told him the previous night.
"That was pretty stupid," Macavity frowned when he was done. "And Moya should know better than to pick fights with Tyghur."
"That's what I told her," Munkustrap said.
Macavity studied the older cat for a minute, then asked, "Anything else I should know about, especially related to Tyghur?"
"He did try to attack me the first night I was here," Munkustrap nodded, "for no better reason than my dancing with Gritelboen. I warned him that the next time he tried it he could expect to be banished."
"You did, huh?" Macavity looked pained. "Well, I guess you did what you thought best. Which brings me to another point. Have you been…ah, courting Moya? Or Gritelboen?"
Now Munkustrap studied Macavity, but could read nothing in his expression. "I have been humoring them," he said cautiously, "at Vyktorea's insistence." He turned a suspicious glare on his younger brother. "What about you? Were you wooing my Demeetar?"
"Well…there were several females in season," Macavity said evasively. "Rhimara, for instance. And young Tughar and Mistoffelees were fighting over that little Mozu creature."
"Oh, really?" Munkustrap half-laughed. "Who won?"
"Mozu seemed to favor Mistoffelees."
Munkustrap smiled, "I thought she would." Then his smile vanished. "But what about Rhimara? Did Rhumpus ever show up for her?"
"He did, but he refused her," Macavity said woodenly. "She mated with Admeetus instead."
"Admeetus?" Munkustrap said in surprise. "How does Bombalurina feel about that?"
"She seemed to accept it," Macavity reported. "Demeetar thinks it's because she feels sorry for her little sister." He trailed off, lost in thought. Then suddenly he shook himself and said, "But we've had enough idle talk. My people will be getting suspicious. We have to determine a ransom."
Munkustrap nodded stiffly, "And what did you have in mind?"
"It has been driven home to me," Macavity began, "by my--sorry, our mother, that I need to find a mate--"
"You can't have Demeetar!" Munkustrap cut in abruptly.
"Let me finish, brother," Macavity said testily. "I don't want Demeetar anymore. I have already had her for one night and that was enough to satisfy me."
"You ratspawn!" Munkustrap burst out and swiped at his rival.
Macavity was expecting this, however, and grabbing Munkustrap's wrist, twisted his arm around painfully behind him. "Enough of that," he hissed in his older brother's ear. "You don't have any say in this anymore. Now let's go."
Pushing the struggling Munkustrap ahead of him, Macavity came out of his home and started toward the feasting hall. Munkustrap dragged his feet every step of the way, though his struggles lessened somewhat when they came in sight of the other Tyghurss. There would be no escape now, he realized.
"Well, Macavity?" Moya said quizzically as she approached them.
Macavity cupped her face in his free paw and nuzzled her fondly. She gave him a perplexed look, but he was already moving past her toward the center of the hall where Bilbaely awaited him.
"What exactly were you planning to do with the Jellicle chief, Macavity?" the older cat asked.
Morghen and Grumbuskin are already on their way to the Jellicle settlement to tell them we expect a ransom," Macavity told him. "Though actually, I'm having second thoughts about sending this Jellicle back to his people."
Munkustrap's heart caught in his throat. What would Macavity do with him if he didn't send him back? Bilbaely wanted to know as well.
"Well, how do you think the Jellicles would get along without their beloved chief?" Macavity pointed out.
"The same way we got along when you killed our last chief, my father," Munkustrap hissed.
"Shut it!" Macavity growled and cuffed his brother, adding, Our father.
"He is right, though, Macavity," Bilbaely said, shaking his head. "This was before your time, of course, but many years ago the Jellicles lost first their chief, then their second, then their healer, and still managed to bounce back somehow. And they were even smaller a tribe then than they are now."
Macavity shrugged, "Well, no matter. I'll just trade the chief for another member of the tribe."
"A female?" Bilbaely queried with a smirk.
"You know me well, Old Bil," Macavity grinned.
"Hmmph," Bilbaely snorted, "all I know is it's about time."
"And I want to know why you would want a Jellicle mate in the first place," Munkustrap said boldly.
"Yeah, why?" Moya and Gritelboen added in unison.
"There's no shame in taking a Jellicle mate," Bilbaely leaped to his chief's defense. "Why Macavity himself is the kitten of a former Jellicle."
"But…" Moya struggled to keep her voice from quaking with emotion, "but why do you even need a Jellicle mate? It's not as if there's a shortage of females here."
"Yes, Macavity," Gritelboen purred, nuzzling her way into the ginger chief's arms. "There are plenty of Tyghurss females just waiting for you to choose a mate. If you picked a Jellicle it would be totally unfair and we'd all want to kill her."
"If you did kill her, you can be sure you wouldn't last long," Macavity growled, pushing the white female away.
"Come on, Mac!" Gritelboen practically meyowled. "Why do you want a Jellicle mate when you know I want you!"
"Oh, will you grow up!" Macavity cried in exasperation. "You're nearly ripe for mating so stop pursuing a male who doesn't want you!"
The entire hall was silenced by this statement. Then Gritelboen, humiliated, fled with a wordless howl. Vyktorea and Aughustas, her parents, exchanged discomfited glances, but didn't dare challenge their chief. Groultyghur, however, harbored no such qualms and approached his half-brother with blood in his eye.
"What are you glaring at?" Macavity grumbled when he noticed the younger male.
Groultyghur stopped short under the chief's burning gaze, and after a split second of indecision, hurried out of the hall in pursuit of his slighted sweetheart.
Macavity turned back to Bilbaely. "When Grumbuskin and Morghen return and have eaten, we'll set out for the Jellicle settlement," he said. "Now let the feasting begin."
©1999 Delilah