Chapter 3
Disclaimer: I own nothing. No infringement intended.
The next time Miley awoke, she was roused by the sound of the door of her cell loudly squeaking open. She looked up to see a forbidding silhouette standing in the doorway, the light from the hallway forming a fluorescent halo around the figure.
"Wake up," the silhouette commanded in a gravelly voice. The figure stepped further into the cell, allowing the light from the hallway to filter into the cell more evenly and thus better illuminating the creature that had entered Miley's cell.
Miley gasped as she took in what she was looking at. The creature stood at least seven feet tall and was shrouded in a hooded black cloak. The hood, however, could not cover the creature's face entirely; from the hood protruded the long, narrow jaws of a crocodile. "Wake up," the crocodile-man repeated, its teeth clicking loudly back into place once the words were spoken.
Miley took a deep breath and stood up slowly. Silently, she willed herself not to panic. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"I am Chancellor Krokylus," the creature said. "It is time for your audition. You will follow me."
"Audition?" Miley questioned, but Krokylus had already turned and exited to the hallway, where he stood waiting for Miley, his piercing reptilian gaze on her never faltering. Miley sighed quietly and stepped out into the hallway. Krokylus turned again and strode down the hall. Miley had to jog to keep up with the creature.
As she followed after the chancellor, Miley looked all around her for an exit or hiding place of some sort. But the only door was behind her, where she had been brought inside some unknown amount of time before. The hallway was lined with cells, some populated with creatures existing in a state halfway between human and animal, others empty, but there were no other doors or corridors, no place for Miley to hide or run. So she followed Krokylus.
At last, the hallway came to an end, and Krokylus stopped, turning to Miley. Behind the chancellor was a metal door identical to the one through which Miley had entered the structure. Krokylus spoke.
"You dance," he said in such a way that the words could be interpreted as question or command.
"Yes," Miley stuttered nervously.
"Good," Krokylus said. "You are scheduled to meet with the Dance Master first."
Krokylus turned to the door, grasping a handle and pulling outward. The door squealed open, and Krokylus stepped through, followed by Miley.
On the other side of the door, Miley found herself in a hallway that ran perpendicular to the one she had just left. One side of the hallway was nothing more than a blank wall, with the exception of the door Miley had come through. Cut into the other side of the hallway were numerous staircases, evenly spaced from each other. Krokylus led Miley to a nearby staircase and motioned for her to climb the stairs in front of him. With no other alternative in sight, Miley obeyed.
Each flight of stairs was separated by a landing and rose in the opposite direction from the previous flight. Miley had climbed five flights of these stairs when she impulsively turned to face Krokylus and asked him the question that had been burning in her mind since she had awoken.
"Are you going to turn me into a woodchuck?" she asked.
Much to Miley's surprise, Krokylus laughed. His snout snapped open and shut, his teeth clicking loudly as the ugly, gravelly rumble leapt from his throat. "No, no, no!" Krokylus exclaimed cheerfully when his chuckles had died down. "The woodchucks have their own purpose, as does everyone here, including you. But your purpose is special."
"Why am I special?" Miley demanded.
Krokylus leered at Miley. "You dance and sing," he said. "Your soul is deep. The woodchucks are entertainment; you are art." Krokylus leaned closer to Miley. "And even without all that," he said, "you're just too pretty to change. Just like the other girl."
Miley took two steps back from the hungry look on Krokylus' face. "O-o-other girl?" she stuttered, the knuckles on her left hand turning white as she gripped the handrail tightly.
"Enough talk," Krokylus declared abruptly. "You'll be late for your audition." With a scaly, clawed hand, he motioned for Miley to turn around and keep moving.
Several flights of stairs later, Miley emerged into another hallway. Krokylus came to the top of the stairs behind her, extending his hand, pointing to a regular sized wooden door. Miley approached the door and turned the knob. She pushed the door open easily and stepped through, finding herself in a large dance studio.
The mats on the floor were gray. The wall opposite the door was covered entirely by a mirror, and a barre, positioned waist-high, ran the length of the room in front of the mirror. In the very center of the mirrored wall, a woman with the facial features of a cat was stretching her legs on the barre. The fur that covered the woman's face was a smooth gray streaked with black stripes. Miley could see that the woman's feet were also more or less feline. Though not quite paws, the feet were not quite human either.
"Choroline!" Krokylus called out.
The cat-woman dropped her raised leg to the floor and turned to Krokylus. "Oh, Chancellor!" she said cheerily. "I see you've brought our new star."
"Put her through the paces," Krokylus commanded, then swiftly turned and walked out the door.
"Welcome to the dance studio," the cat-woman said to Miley. "My name is Choroline, and I'm the dance chief here."
"Where is here, exactly?" Miley asked.
"Aren't you inquisitive?" Choroline said dismissively. "But we have work to do. The Masquerade Ball is only two days away!"
For the next two hours, Choroline exercised Miley strenuously, rebuffing every attempt Miley made to find out more about her captivity. Without years of dancing experience, Miley would have collapsed quickly under Choroline's drill-sergeant-like instruction method. But Miley was resilient, and Choroline seemed pleased with her ability and endurance. At last, Choroline commanded Miley to sit.
"Food will arrive shortly," Choroline said tersely. "Then we will begin choreographing your performance for the Ball."
Miley sighed. She wasn't sure she could endure a choreography session in addition to the two grueling hours of Choroline's "warm-ups." But she saw no alternative, so she massaged her legs as she waited for the food to arrive.
When food arrived, Miley was surprised to find that the meal was quite good. It was all vegetarian, but was made of such high quality ingredients as to be quite tasty, and encompassed enough variety to provide for all of Miley's nutritional needs at the moment. She devoured the salad and sandwich hungrily.
Following the meal, Choroline taught Miley a complex dance. "Focus!" Choroline would regularly shout, whether Miley was focusing or not. "You will be performing this dance in two days' time, and it must be perfect!" At last, Choroline called another rest period. Miley sat back against the wall, breathing heavily. She wasn't completely exhausted yet, but she was getting close.
Miley's breathing was returning to a normal resting pace when the door opened and a new creature entered. This creature bore the appearance of an exotic starling, but stood six feet tall. Its head was a gleaming purple, its back and wings a pattern of deep blues, and its torso a soothing shade of orange. When it spoke, its voice was definitively male, but high-pitched nonetheless.
"Are you done with the girl, Choroline?" the bird asked. "I must teach her the song."
"Yes, Cantari," said Choroline, addressing the bird-man. "She's coming along very nicely. How's the other girl doing?"
A frustrated whistle shot out of Cantari's beak. "She'd better be able to dance, because she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket!" he said animatedly, his wings fluttering frenetically.
"Send her here when you take this one to the song room," Choroline said. "I'll have her whipped into shape in time for the Ball."
By now, Miley knew better than to ask questions. All questions were simply ignored. Besides, by listening carefully, she was starting to piece things together. Once she had put aside the strangeness of her situation, the situation had become quite clear. Quite simply, she had been kidnapped and imprisoned for the purpose of entertaining at a Masquerade Ball. Grasping that basic concept, Miley was able to deal with the bizarre nature of her captors on its own terms. This understanding also gave her mind time to contemplate the unanswered questions.
How did she get here?
How would she escape?
Who was the "other girl" who couldn't carry a tune in a bucket?
The last question disturbed Miley. She had already encountered one person, Dwayne, that she knew; it seemed likely that there were others here whom she knew. And what girl did Miley know who was too pretty to change into a woodland creature but couldn't carry a tune in a bucket? In Miley's mind, the only girl that answered that description was Lilly.
Miley quietly sucked in a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. At the same time that she was horrified that her captors might have kidnapped Lilly as well, she longed for the comfort of her best friend. Both emotions wrenched at her heart, but Miley's willpower prevailed, and no tears fell from her eyes as she followed Cantari out the door and down the hallway.