Roxanne’s whiskers twitched. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Beneath her paws, a brown carpet with red flowers spread out across the floor. She wondered when Lady had acquired a new rug for the dressing room. A sickly-sweet smell invaded her nostrils, and she became wide awake. She wasn’t in Lady’s dressing room or the apartment. She was in the opera cellar, alone with a terrifying cat who possessed a skull for a face.
Pushing herself upward on shaky paws, she glanced at her surroundings, hoping to see another passage or door to freedom. A dark reflection in the mirror across from Roxanne drew her attention to it.
A large mass loomed behind her, staring at her reflection with her. The yellow eyes boring into Roxanne’s own made her want to run. Her heart beat so hard her body shook. Breathing rapidly, she spun around to face the massive cat behind her.
The ragged cat wore the Halloween decoration on his face again, but Roxanne didn’t know if that proved better or worse than looking at his skull head. She opened her lips to speak, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Instead, she sat down again, trying to steady herself.
“I’m sorry my appearance startled you,” the cat meowed.
You nearly gave me a heart attack, Roxanne thought.
“My name is Orpheus,” the cat continued. He tapped his long tail on the floor as if keeping time with his words. “My original intent was for you to return to the Opera Cats, but since you’ve seen my face, you must stay here with me. I will still teach you as I originally intended and help your voice improve, but you will sing for me and only me. From this moment on, the world above is forbidden to you.”
Roxanne blinked.
"At least you won’t have to overcome your stage fright for future performances,” Orpheus said with a light-heartedness in his voice that seemed to mock Roxanne. He snorted at his wry comment.
Roxanne swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Quietly, so quietly she wondered if she’d even said a word, she asked, “Why? Why me?”
Orpheus’s eyes burned brighter. Roxanne wondered if it meant happiness or anger. Orpheus said, “I never expected to love anything other than music. But music led me to you. I love you, Roxanne, and I believe that through music, you will love me as well.”
Roxanne’s vision swam, and a cold shiver shook her body. This… this creature before her loved her? Not that long ago, she viewed her teacher as a dear friend, someone whom she trusted above any other cat. At present, she had no clue about what or who he was. Knowing his name changed nothing. Certainly knowing that he loved her hardly helped either.
She thought about the Opera Cats. Would Harry search for her? He’d told her to be careful, to not leave Lady. Oh, how she should have listened! Her heart felt ripped in two. On one paw, Roxanne prayed Harry would look for her and soon rescue her; on the other paw, she wanted him nowhere near this creepy place.
And what about Norb? She hadn’t told him about her lessons because her teacher had ordered her not to. If only she had told someone, even Norb! Norb would’ve forbidden her to leave or, at the very least, insisted on meeting Orpheus. Roxanne had made an irreversible mistake in not telling Norb.
Another thought occurred to Roxanne. She had believed her teacher and the Ghost Cat were two different cats. But the stolen jewelry from before—the necklace she’d worn to the party belonged to Star; there was no doubt regarding that fact—proved otherwise, along with Orpheus’s skull face. Now was not the time to be meek, so Roxanne cleared her throat and asked, “Was it you who committed those heinous crimes? Stealing Olga’s collar and Star's necklace? Dropping the sandbag? Killing Stripe?” Tears welled in her eyes. “And Olga said she was poisoned. I didn’t believe her. No one believed her. But I’m starting to think otherwise.”
Orpheus remained silent. Anger flashed through Roxanne. How dare he not answer her after putting her through this horror! She hissed, “Answer me!”
“Yes.” Orpheus’s calm reply resounded in Roxanne’s ears. She sank to the floor as he continued speaking. “I am the one whom the Opera Cats call the Ghost Cat, whom the young humans have named the Phantom Cat. I went to Olga’s house and poisoned her and her foolish human so you could sing—”
“You poisoned Star?” Roxanne interjected, pricking her ears forward. The thought of a cat interfering with human affairs—especially harming a human—seemed beyond a cat's ability. She'd never considered such a bizarre notion.
“Of course. You see, the bonus in poisoning that insufferable woman was ensuring her absence from the human opera so your Lady could take her place!” Orpheus cackled. The grating sound forced Roxanne to cover her ears. Once Orpheus calmed himself, he took a deep breath before speaking again. “Humans don’t screech like cats think—except for Olga’s human, I suppose. Humans sing, and your Lady is the best singer of the lot. While you sang with the cats, Lady sang with the humans. I was able to enjoy beautiful singing on both sides of the opera house!”
Roxanne let her tears fall; she saw no point in curbing them any longer. Her limbs felt leaden. If only she could melt into the opera cellar’s dank floor and not have to face the consequences of her miserable choices…
“When Norb—that stupid sap—sent those two cats after me the other day, I ran down the passage that contained the hook. Perhaps I shouldn’t tell that story,” Orpheus meowed, flicking his tail. “Such sordid details are behind us. We only need to concern ourselves with the present and the future. You are with me, and that’s all that matters.”
"Why did you give me Star's necklace?" Roxanne demanded. "It gave me nothing but trouble at the party tonight!"
Orpheus tilted his head. "I simply thought it would look perfect on you. It certainly doesn't belong on Star's chicken-like neck."
Roxanne twitched her tail. "You never considered the trouble it would bring me?" she murmured.
"Perhaps it would have caused such a commotion with the Opera Cats to entice you to stay here on your own volition," Orpheus meowed, his voice taking on an unpleasant edge.
Roxanne stared at her paws. She would never have gone into hiding because of the necklace ordeal. Had it upset her? Of course, but Roxanne had never been one to run away from her troubles. She bit back her arguments, however, since discussing the necklace with Orpheus proved pointless, and she decided she didn't want to talk with him further.
“I’m tired,” Roxanne blurted. “Please, I just want to sleep.” Sleep was the last thing Roxanne wanted, but she needed to think, and she wanted Orpheus to leave her alone.
“Of course,” Orpheus said, standing. “The floor is no place for you to rest. Follow me, my dear.”
Reluctantly, Roxanne followed Orpheus. She feared she’d fall to the floor with how her legs trembled, but somehow she managed to remain standing. Orpheus leaped on a tattered chaise lounge, a moldy decoupage partition standing behind it. Roxanne jumped after Orpheus, surprised at her ability to perform such a feat after everything that had happened to her. After Orpheus pawed the thick blankets on the lounge into a nest, he flicked his tail at it, an indication for Roxanne to sleep there.
“I have things I must tend to,” Orpheus said. “I rarely sleep these days. I fill my time with music, whether it is singing, listening, or managing things cats and humans can’t seem to get right. But don’t fret. I’ll be nearby, so you won’t be alone.”
Roxanne shuddered. She wondered what things humans couldn’t get right and how Orpheus “fixed” them, but figured it’d be best not to know. She curled herself in a tight ball on the blankets, the musty odor wafting around her, making it difficult to breathe.
“Sleep well, sweet Roxanne,” Orpheus cooed. He padded toward the end of the chaise lounge, humming a melody from Romeo and Juliet. He leaped off the lounge, and Roxanne watched his dark form disappear in the shadows. The humming changed to singing, the glorious voice making Roxanne drowsy.
As Orpheus’s singing lulled her to sleep, Roxanne wondered if she could escape this terror she’d become trapped in. Her thoughts soon grew more convoluted, making plotting an escape difficult, so she decided on the simplest plan. When she woke up, she’d dart for the door above the shelves. It was her only option.
Sleep soon overtook her, and singing cats with skulls for faces chased her in her dreams.
#
In Susannah’s dressing room, Susannah sat on her stool in front of her vanity, sobbing into her fist. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she’d secluded herself in her room after Stone gave in to Maria’s whims. Phillip, his hands jammed in his pockets, stood next to her, waiting for words of comfort to materialize in his mind. None came, so he decided to stand quietly. He knew that sometimes silence meant more than words.
Susannah lifted her bleary eyes. She gave Phillip’s reflection in the mirror a small smile. “I guess I overreacted, huh?” she asked in a hushed voice. “At least I’m still Maria’s understudy.”
“Overreacted?” Phillip repeated. “To be honest, I think you handled that entire fiasco better than most people. Being accused of poisoning someone is not an easy ordeal to endure, and neither is being demoted from this opera and future ones for who knows how long. You certainly did not overreact.”
“Maria gets her way again,” Susannah said with a sigh. Her eyes fell on Roxanne’s empty basket. Times such as this one required the comfort only a cat could offer, but Roxanne wasn’t in her usual spot. Susannah stood. “Phillip? Have you seen my cat?”
“That feline is lost again?” Phillip asked, striding to glance inside the small dressing room closet.
Susannah shrugged. “I… I don’t know. Roxanne! Roxanne, you silly cat, come here.” She peeked behind her room divider, a large wooden piece with a green lake painted on it. When she returned, she blinked rapidly. “Oh, Phillip, help me find her!” she wailed. After what had happened with Maria, Susannah had thought the day couldn’t get worse, but it just had.
Phillip, his eyes roving over every item he passed, walked around the small dressing room. “Don’t worry. Roxanne has to be here somewhere.”
Susannah pawed through her opera outfits, sifted through the small chest beside the divider, and glanced under the vanity. When she stood, she said, “I don’t think she’s in here.”
With a gentle push, Phillip guided Susannah to her stool. “You wait here. Dry your eyes and relax. I’ll search the hall for Roxanne.”
“Phillip, I want to come. This place is huge. She could be anywhere,” Susannah said. Her eyes widened as an idea occurred to her. Bringing her hands to her mouth, she whispered, “She might be hurt!”
“I will find her,” Phillip insisted. “Wait here.” He edged to the door, not taking his gaze off Susannah. When he reached the door, he opened it and darted in the hallway before Susannah could protest.
Susannah watched the door close behind Phillip. She turned back to the mirror and stared at her puffy eyes. Sobbing, she held her head in her hands. With trembling steps, she walked to a small sofa in one corner of the room. It was big enough for only two people to sit together pressed side by side, but she squeezed herself between the wooden arms and buried her wet face in the green velvet. Within seconds she’d cried herself to sleep.