The great Maudie Stirling strikes again. We've agreed she'll do Cat's part for the rest of this fic and the little novella to follow, because my chapter management is terrible (that's not the reason for her doing Cat's part, that's the reason for the novella). Hence, updates will probably, hopefully, be more frequent, because Maudie isn't a lazy slacker like me. BUT, she seems to think her writing is terrible (I know, I don't understand either) so please leave her a message in the reviews, to tell her how great her writing is.

Ashura – you better. There're a hundred Pokemon fans out there slowly dying because they haven't got their fix of your writing. Do you want to be a manslaughterer (not a word, don't care)? Huh? HUH?

Absent – your comments always crack me up on so many levels that you'll probably never understand. I know they aren't supposed to be funny, but I'm so wonky you wouldn't believe.

Maudie – I'm not even going to dignify that with a response :P

Act III

Scene 3 – A Threat

I tiptoed past Frank's room to the door of Rabbie's, and knocked.

"Who's there?" he grumbled.

"Only me, an axe-murderer," I replied. There was a pause, and then the door opened. My brother let me in.

"I thought they had a day off today?" he yawned sarcastically.

"You're special. Haven't I always told you that?"

Rabbie raised his eyebrows. "What do you want?"

I acted offended. "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite brother now?"

"I'm your only brother," he snorted.

Perfect. "You're not. Speaking of Pedro, do you know where he is?"

He lay down onto his bed. "No. He's probably at the theatre somewhere, or living with one of the boys."

"I don't think so. Are you sure?"

"Probably. Where else could he be?"

Where else indeed, I thought. "I asked Syd and Frank, but they wouldn't tell me. Will you –"

"Find out for you? I suppose … but for a price."

I groaned. "Name it. Just don't grin at me like that – you look like Billy Shepherd."

"I want the Crown Jewels!" Rabbie mimicked Billy's voice. "Nah. I don't have a cushion spare at the moment. I want …"

I sat down, bracing myself.

Rabbie looked thoughtful. "I don't know, actually. Maybe you can just owe me your service, for now."

I nodded, and made a dash for the door before he could change his mind. "Thanks!" I called over my shoulder, as an afterthought.

The next morning at breakfast, I smiled at Frank casually and acted to the best of my abilities that I had forgotten about Pedro. It would have been a piece of cake if Frank didn't know me so well.

"Will you pass the butter, please, Frank?" I asked him politely.

He handed it to me, eyeing me suspiciously. "I'm off to visit Syd after breakfast," he said.

"That's nice," I answered, spreading it on my toast. "Say hello to him from me. I'm going to …" I thought fast. "To see Mary."

Frank frowned. "Who's Mary?"

"My friend." I finished my toast, and got up. "Excuse me."

I walked out onto the streets, but of course I wasn't going to visit Mary, who I'd invented a minute ago. Instead, I walked toward the new theatre. I still hated every part of it, but maybe I could find Mr Sheridan this time. I went in through the back door, and got lost almost immediately.

There were doors everywhere, and the same high ceiling and white walls. I walked around, frantically trying to find any similarity. Finally, I buried my head in my hands hopelessly and held back tears. What's happened so that I can't find my way around my home? Mr Sheridan, I thought bitterly. Sheridan and his love for fame –

"Heavens, Cat, what are you doing here?"

I spun around at the familiar voice, to see the man I had been cursing a moment ago. "Getting wondrously lost," I replied tonelessly. He herded me around the corridors and into a small office, not unlike the one where he had broken the news of the renovation to me.

"Take a seat," he told me. "Make yourself at home." But I stood. This wasn't my home, and I wasn't about to pretend otherwise.

"So. What do you want to ask me?"

I didn't bother asking how he knew. "Where's Pedro?"

"Ah," he sighed. "Such a shame about the boy. His substitute can't do flips and tricks half as well and apparently has a fear of heights –"

"I feel for your loss," I said coolly. I couldn't believe the person who had become like a parent to me could be so cold. "But you haven't answered my question yet. Where is he?"

I might have imagined the flash of panic across Mr Sheridan's face, but ignoring that, he still didn't reply properly.

"He's been a lot of places, wouldn't you agree? It quite surprised me when he came back …"

I decided to change tack. "It's just that I miss him so much, sir, and I'd like to know where he is even if he's gone." I managed to squeeze a tear out, though he taught me that trick himself.

"Hmm, yes. Goodness, is that the time?" he checked his watch and made for the door.

"But, sir! You haven't told me where he is!" I tried to bar his way.

"What makes you think I know myself, child?" he muttered. "Now, I really must get going. Let yourself out, will you – down the corridor until the fruit picture, then turn left, then right twice, then left again and there you are. Good morning!"

And he hurried off before I could stop him. I bit my cheek in annoyance and go out before I forgot the directions.

I headed for the Avons' house for a little rest before confronting anyone else. My feelings boiled inside: frustration, despair and worry. I knew Frank and Syd would keep Pedro safe, but why couldn't they tell me anything? And I'd bet my last pennies that Mr Sheridan knew something about it too – it seemed that everyone was in it apart from me. I sighed wearily, but perhaps Rabbie had found some information for me. I pushed open the back door, and my fingers touched something that rustled. I looked up to see a crumpled piece of paper with scrawled lettering in capitals.

Stop trying to find out more. I know what you are doing. Dig any deeper and your boy gets hurt.

A threat. From the people who had Pedro. I ripped it off the nail and shredded it, but that didn't take away my fear. A threat. To me – or, really, Pedro. I stumbled into the house with the last of my energy and burst into sobs.

Miki paced the floor of their dining room. It was going to need replaced soon.

"Lord Almighty, Robbie, what do we do?"

Robbie was currently in the process of eating an apple, so took a while to answer. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that psychopath has kidnapped her best friend and is now threatening him to get to her!"

"Well… Seeing as there's nothing we can do, then we wait. The girl won't back down, she'll get into trouble, we'll go save her. If all goes well, the boy'll be okay and she might not even know who we are."

"Since when have you been such an optimist?"

"Since when have you been such a pessimist?"

"Touché. But what if things go wrong? I don't mind her knowing about us, not if it keeps her safe, but what about the boy? I couldn't take it if he got hurt, Robbie, I just couldn't."

"Why not?"

"He's black. He used to be Hawkins' slave. He plays the violin; he's a brilliant performer… He has so much life left to live. He's had so much life taken away from him." Miki, by this point, was holding her head in her hands and profusely shaking it.

Robbie stood up, apple long forgotten, and pulled Miki into a hug. "Then we have to make sure he's going to be fine. Did you see your acquaintance actually nailing the note to the door?"

"No, it was one of his henchmen. But you know what I don't understand?"

"What?"

"Why the butcher and the rich boy haven't told her yet. And why the duke's servants never heard someone hammering the nail into the door."

"Well, they want to keep her safe obviously. She seems like the kind of girl to run head first into trouble without a thought for herself. Reminds me a lot of a certain someone," Robbie broke off to chuckle at Miki as she glared at him, having caught his hidden meaning, "and they were probably all busy. After all, if you had things to do and places to be, you wouldn't be paying attention to a bit of background noise. It was hammered onto the back door, remember, so no passers-by would've seen it, and the footman at the door wouldn't have heard it. How did you see it if it was at the back door, by the way?"

A sheepish grin appeared on Miki's face. "I was doing some… Reconnaissance."

"Sure you were. You definitely weren't spying on the rich boy, were you?"

"Of course I wasn't, sir!" Miki pretended to be horrified and outraged at the idea, her facial expression causing Robbie to start laughing uncontrollably. Soon enough, both were collapsed into chairs, gasping for breath.

"What were we talking about again?" Robbie asked.

"I have no idea," Miki replied, before winking, yet again sending them both into irrepressible laughing fits.