Chapter Text
Elmsmere Way had a distinct, nauseating scent to it. Rumours abounded that Macavity had cleared it for his use a long time ago by using fire to scatter the human residents, and the gutted houses still stood, abandoned, charred, lending the area a perpetual smell of smoke and ashes. Mistoffelees couldn't be sure, but he thought Elmsmere Way had an underlying scent of blood and burnt flesh, and he wondered if Macavity had done a bit more than simply scatter the former residents.
Mistoffelees had only been to Elmsmere Way once before. He knew the smell would never leave his memory.
He'd assumed he'd never have to return, but there he was, using up the very last vestiges of his energy to teleport himself, Tugger, Demeter and Alonzo back to the place he'd tried so hard to forget for almost two years.
Teleporting was a difficult bit of magic. Mistoffelees could transport himself and others to any place he could focus on, but in order to do it without causing injury or death, he needed a clear view of his arrival spot. He remembered exactly where Macavity's hideout was within Elmsmere Way, but he had no way of knowing how heavily the house was guarded, whether they'd arrive into a trap, or even if an extra fence or boulder had been placed in what he'd previously believed to be an empty spot.
Because of all that, he opted to teleport everyone to the only other spot in Elmsmere Way he knew well: the abandoned house in which he'd given birth to his kittens.
When the haze of magic cleared and the ground solidified under his paws, Mistoffelees immediately pitched to the side, dizzy and drained from too much magic and too little rest. It was Demeter who caught him and kept him from slamming into the cold ground. She squeezed his arms in reassurance as he frantically blinked and the familiar house came into view.
They were just outside the front of the house, with the front door stuck tight, frost rimming the long-destroyed wood and paint of the frame. The window by the door was still broken from where Tugger had kicked it to get inside. It felt like a lifetime ago.
"This way," Demeter said. She gave him a little nudge before releasing his arms, just to make sure he was steady on his feet, and he gave a curt nod to indicate that yes, he was fine, just fine.
Demeter led them down the street away and of course she knew, of course she remembered where Macavity's lair was.
The dead streets of the abandoned neighbourhood were eerily quiet, the dead grass and broken junk covered in snow. There was the occasional trail of paw prints but it was useless to try tracking anything, not when Macavity came and went as he pleased without leaving a paw print anywhere.
"Follow my lead," Mistoffelees whispered for Tugger's benefit. "And don't do anything foolish."
Tugger looked a little hurt at the suggestion. "I just want to get Mandra back."
"And that's why you shouldn't do anything foolish. Macavity has a… method to his madness. Cooperation helps you stay alive a little longer."
"But cooperation with that? We still don't know what he wants."
Mistoffelees said nothing. He let Demeter take the lead while Alonzo slowed to walk alongside him, protecting him as he eyed the ruined houses all around them. Poor Alonzo; if anyone was going to be doing any protecting here, it would be Mistoffelees, and that wasn't saying much.
The march to Macavity's house made Mistoffelees' stomach twist in familiarity. He'd been marched through here by henchcats, who'd had a rough touch but hadn't really hurt him, beyond a few choice sneers. Mandra was probably safe, then. Macavity needed her. He didn't hurt anything or anyone if he needed them.
Everlasting, he hoped he was correct.
They rounded a corner filled with broken pallets of wood and a rusted, upturned metal garbage can. Demeter carefully sidestepped a broken glass jar and when she moved, Macavity's lair came into view.
Mistoffelees had few memories of the house itself. He and Demeter had been marched in and locked up in the basement, their small and terrifying home for three days. He remembered his anxiety at the situation, the panic as Macavity's plans became clear. It had rained for one of those days. He remembered fitful sleep and then pain as his kittens suddenly decided to come into the world.
And then a different sort of pain, a strong, liberating pain, as Macavity threatened him and his kittens and his body responded in the only way it knew how: with a burst of pure, unstoppable magic.
Macavity and his house and his henchcats were a blur after that moment. The rest of his time in Elmsmere Way was spent giving birth to his kittens, and getting as far away from the place as possible. Too many things he tried hard not to commit to memory, including the memory of Mandragora's birth. The runt of the litter, she'd come out not breathing. Tugger had managed to get her breathing again, but he refused to dig into the memory, and Tugger had never mentioned it again, for both their sakes.
And now they were back in this place, and again Mandra was the one in danger. Elmsmere Way was cursed.
As they approached, Macavity stood on the splintered porch of the house, a casual curve to his body meant to indicate his lack of surprise at their arrival. Mistoffelees frowned. The Hidden Paw was flanked by three cats he did not recognize.
One was a tall and lanky queen with dull fur and dull whiskers, who casually picked at her teeth with a claw and coolly watched their approach. She was likely not a threat, though any cat who'd earned the right to stand at Macavity's side had to be taken with caution.
The other two gave Mistoffelees greater anxiety. They were twin cats, a tom and a queen, small and wiry and sharp all over. Their fur could have been pure gleaming white, were it not for the deep-set pink stains around their paws and throats and bellies, and Mistoffelees realized with revulsion that the pink stains were for the most part old, long-dried blood. The queen still had fresh blood on her chest.
Mistoffelees bristled at the sight and the smell. Jezebel's blood.
"Welcome back," Macavity purred, theatrically drawing out every syllable. His voice was calm and still it boomed over the silent wind of Elmsmere Way. "I've missed you so, Mistoffelees. How good of you to come visit."
If Macavity wanted to play, then Mistoffelees would play the game. Whatever kept everyone alive and safe. "You didn't need such extreme methods to get my attention, Macavity. You could have just asked for a visit."
Macavity's mouth split into a wicked grin. "But look how efficient it was. You're here."
Demeter stood tall and alert on his left side, while he felt Alonzo and, more importantly, Tugger's restless energy at his right side. He was staying quiet, which was more than Mistoffelees had expected at this point.
"You took something from us," Mistoffelees said.
"And in turn, you have something I need. Isn't it interesting how these things balance out?"
"What do you want?" Tugger suddenly bellowed. Well, Mistoffelees supposed it was too expect him to stay quiet for long. "Where is she, you piece of filth? Where is my daughter?"
Macavity gave Tugger a bored look, then addressed Mistoffelees as though they were discussing an unruly kitten. "I'm surprised you brought him. Does he always have this temper?"
"Let me see Mandragora," Mistoffelees said. It was a chore to keep his voice steady. "Please. And then make your demand."
Another long, cool look from Macavity. It was impossible to tell what was happening behind those cold, sharp eyes, but he was likely debating if Mistoffelees had jumped through the proper hoops and could now be rewarded. He turned to the lanky queen and nodded briskly toward the house. She flicked off whatever she'd been picking from her teeth and went into the house.
"I've never seen her before," Demeter whispered to him. "Or those two."
"Those two killed Jezebel!" Alonzo hissed, as though noticing the two white cats for the first time.
"And they'll kill us if we're not careful," Mistoffelees said. He made a point of looking at Tugger while he spoke, though his mate only had eyes for the house, waiting to see who would emerge.
"Not you though, Misto," Demeter said.
Alonzo frowned at her, puzzled. Mistoffelees stalled any questions by raising his paw. "He just needs me alive. Not necessarily intact."
"Dad!"
Mistoffelees' heart leapt at the sound. By some miracle, Tugger managed to resist running forward, a move that would have instantly cost him his life. Instead he stuck his arms out as far as they could go as though he could manage to reach the struggling queen who'd just appeared, held firmly in the paws of a large white and grey tom. "Mandra!"
She's all right, she's all right, Mistoffelees chanted to himself, frantically scanning his daughter up and down for any signs of scratches, blood, abuse. She was scared, but not hurt.
"Mandra, just stay calm, okay kitten?" Mistoffelees said. "You're going to be all right."
Mandra nodded jerkily, as much as she could with her scruff in the firm grip of the white and grey tom. His face was scarred and one of his eyes was missing. This tom was instantly familiar.
"It's Bixbite," Demeter said with revulsion. "I thought he was dead."
Then again, Mistoffelees assumed that Macavity was dead too. If ever he managed to get his paws near Macavity without his daughter at stake, he vowed he would not stop until the Hidden Paw was dead.
"When you last visited me," Macavity said, speaking coolly as though Mistoffelees and Demeter had merely been over for tea. "We had a little discussion about my plans for the future. Do you remember?"
Mistoffelees heard a low hiss from Demeter. He clenched his own paws, quelling the anguish he felt now that Macavity was confirming his suspicions. "You talked about a lot of things. I had other things on my mind at the time."
Macavity laughed darkly and shot Bixbite a 'don't-I-know-it' glance. "You're quite right. It was not the best time for my offer, was it? That was entirely my fault. Let's begin anew."
Tugger's paw banged into his arm and Mistoffelees realized he was trying to grasp his arm, eyes still riveted to Macavity. "What's he talking about?" he whispered. "What offer? What did he offer you?"
"Your mate has special talents, as you can see." He winked in Mandra's direction before stepping down from the porch, one careful, calculated footfall at a time.
"His magic?" Tugger asked.
"Of a sort."
"Thick one, i'n't he?" the lanky queen snorted.
"The idea of my legacy ending with me is not an appealing one," Macavity said. "Magic is an inherited talent, so as you can imagine, I am looking for certain talents in a mate so that these talents may be given to any kittens of mine."
"Wait…" Tugger said. He was either beginning to understand what Macavity was driving at, or threatened by the bigger cat's careful approach of their group.
"You have these talents," Macavity said. He stopped a few inches from Mistoffelees, towering over the entire group. Mistoffelees silently begged them all to stay still as Macavity raised a paw and gently poked him in his soft, but flat belly. "I saw it when you first came to visit. You were ripe with kittens."
"Don't touch him! Don't touch him!"
"Tugger, shut it."
"So I will offer again, in very precise terms," Macavity said, amused by Tugger's outburst. "Your daughter will be returned to you, if you first bear me a litter of magical kittens."
Of course now Tugger understood, and now he barked a sour, exaggerated laugh. "Ha! No! Never! He'd never do anything to help you like that!"
"Everlasting Cat, will you let me speak?" Mistoffelees hissed, ignoring the way Tugger snapped his jaw shut with a hurt look. To Macavity, he said, "Listen, I don't care about whatever plans you have for heirs. Give me my daughter back, and I'll help you, but not like you ask. Maybe… maybe I could help find you a queen, one with magic. Somewhere here, in London."
"There is no cat, in London or anywhere, magical or not, I don't already know about."
"I have my own secret ways of contacting cats you may not know about." He didn't, but he hoped Macavity would fall for his bluff. If anything it would buy them time.
"Please. I know of everyone, everywhere, who is of interest to me. How did you think I found you in the first place? How do you think I found your runt?"
Mistoffelees bristled. "Then maybe… maybe I could teach you how to bear the kittens yourself? The sire wouldn't matter, as long as the one bearing them is magical."
Macavity blinked dumbly. His face suddenly crumpled and he heaved a strange breath, and Mistoffelees realized he was laughing, genuinely laughing for the first time in probably ages. Behind him, the lanky queen wheezed a laugh.
"I'm serious! If I could do it, so could you. You'd know the kittens are pure-"
"Go for it, Mac!" the queen said. She mimed patting a large stomach and grinned at Macavity. "I'd pay to see that!"
"Enough, Sedna."
Macavity looked behind him one way and the other, making sure all hilarity and dissention was quelled before he fixed his gaze on Mistoffelees again. "Timing is everything, Mistoffelees. Take some time to think of my offer. You have one week. If I've not heard back from you in an agreeable fashion by then, your runt will be deposited on your doorstep, and I will allow Eris and Cesare to do the delivery."
The two white cats cackled and the queen dipped a finger in the tacky blood on her chest.
Mistoffelees clenched his jaw, mind racing, looking from one cat to the other. Strength wouldn't work. Magic was too dangerous right now. He'd need to use cunning. He just needed to buy enough time to think of a trick.
He nodded, briskly. "Okay. Give me one week."
"I expect cooperation." Macavity's words were as firm as a slamming door. He cocked his chin towards Bixbite, then the two white cats, and finally to Sedna, the rusty old queen. In turn they went back into the house, Bixbite dragging Mandragora by the scruff.
"Dad!" she croaked.
"We'll get you out!" Mistoffelees yelled. "We love you!" His legs almost collapsed as the door shut.
No. No way was he going to lose a kitten to Macavity. One way or another, he was going to get her back home safely.
"Misto… Misto?" Tugger said. His tone was panicked, almost hysterical as he stared disbelieving at the closed door and the empty porch. "What are we doing? We need to be doing something!"
"We will," Mistoffelees said. "We're going to go home and think of a plan."
"But-"
Arguing was useless. As much as the thought of leaving Mandra here turned his stomach, Mistoffelees grabbed Tugger's shoulder, turned him back towards Demeter and Alonzo, and teleported before anyone could protest.