7 June, 1870

So much has happened these two days, I scarce know where to begin!

Yes, I do. My sister is not ashamed of me. That is the most important thing. To think I was so afraid of how she would react if certain things came to light.

I completely missed Sunday night's show. I was abducted by a Lord, a Lady, and their mad group of assistants! They were all witches, out to perform some horrid ritual to raise the dead, or some such. Why did they need me for that? In point of fact, they did not. For reasons that I don't quite follow, they needed Namaste, and eventually her fiance and several of their companions. They mistook me for her.

Fortunately, Namaste and her companions were already on their trail. So I was rescued before things proceeded too far out of hand. My sister's friends are an extraordinary group. They include a big game hunter, a teacher, a sorceress, a medium, an American gunslinger, a French nobleman, and an Irish boxer who is even larger than Father! I could scarce believe it.

After the trouble was sorted out, they insisted I spend the night at their house. Sir Cosmo's home is huge--six stories high, at least! Even so, we were a bit crowded. And I learned, after we'd all had some tea and I was retiring to the room they gave me to sleep in, that I hadn't met all of my sister's companions. I had forgotten that Nigel had been sitting in the audience with them Saturday night. He works for the gunslinger, I am given to understand.

He was even more surprised to see me than I was to see him. And he said the most horrid thing, accusing me of being a prostitute! The nerve! I'm not ashamed to say that I slapped him on the spot and stormed away, resolved to never speak to him again. I did not have an easy time falling asleep, I was so angry.

I was awakened from a stage fright nightmare by the breakfast gong. At least I thought it was the gong. There had been some music playing, I was given to understand, and everyone in the household seemed very concerned about it. Mr. Graves, who is, I believe, the butler, offered to find me some clothing suitable for the trip home, but admitted it might take a bit of time. I took the opportunity to catch a short nap.

When I was ready to leave, I looked in on Namaste to make my farewells. Miss Whitnell insisted that I should ride home in one of the carriages, which I thought was rather unnecessary, but then Namaste said she wanted to ride with me so we could talk. We all trooped downstairs.

Imagine my horror when I saw, standing in the hall, speaking with Mr. Graves, none other than my old friend Robin Lochsley. How could I have forgotten that I had seen him with Namaste's friends on Saturday? And the foolish git called out to me, calling me 'Quan Lee' as if his friends wouldn't wonder why he was on a firstname basis with my stage persona. I fell back on the old, 'No speak English' routine and fled to the parlor.

Namaste followed, and she asked me what was wrong, and then the strangest thing happened. The harpsichord started playing itself, and I started singing. A song I had never heard before, and I was singing it. And it was about me! My hopes and dreams I've had since I was a child. Then when the second verse came round, Namaste sang it, about her dreams. Miss Whitnell had come into the room, and I wanted to stop singing like an idiot, but I could not! I had to keep singing until the end of the song. My sister and I sang about our hopes and dreams, hers fulfilled, mine not, and... oh, it was just so embarrassing and confusing.

When the music stopped, Miss Whitnell explained to me that this is what they had been referring to earlier. Someone has cursed the entire city, she said, and now everyone must sing their innermost feelings! Not only that, but apparently some people caught under the demonic spell will die, burned by their own passions, as it were. They were still trying to figure out how it was down, but they knew that some spirits that took on the appearance of Flemenco dancers were involved. Evil spirits! I was beginning to wish that I had paid attention to old Mrs. Ping when she would talk about warding off bad spirits.

Namaste and I were accompanied in the carriage by Miss Berthild, who I am given to understand is a bodyguard employed by Sir Cosmo to protect young Edward and the ladies of the household.

During the carriage ride, Namaste started asking me questions. She had heard the conversation in the hallway the night before between myself and Nigel. She had noticed that Robin knew me. She suspected.

The moment I had dreaded had already arrived. What could I do? I tried to put her off, but she was persistent, but not in an angry way. She finally convinced me to tell her everything. And I did. Not in all the messy details, but enough that she understood. It was so strange to be talking about such things to someone I've only known a short while.

Then she did the most extraordinary thing. She offered to help set things right with Nigel. She actually said she thought that he and I should be together. I was too surprised for words.

When we arrived at my place, we found Mitzi just leaving. She was looking for me. She gave me a cheque for two week's pay, and ordered me to leave town for a week. She was closing all the clubs for a week, until the curse had run its course.

I've always known that Mitzi is an unusual person, but I hadn't had any idea she was some kind of sorcerer. But there it was, she knew about the curse, and she had even had some experience with previous incidents like it. She said the safest place for everyone was out of city. She advised Namaste to leave, as well.

Then she admitted that she wasn't leaving. She was trying to track down the spirit behind the curse and bring it to an end before more innocent people died.

Namaste indicated that she and her friends were trying to do the same thing. I felt rather awkward, not knowing how I could possibly help.

I had been ordered to leave, so I went to my bank and cashed the cheque. I returned home, intending to pack a bag then go to the train station. Except I kept thinking of the others, staying in town trying to put a stop to this thing. How could I flee the city if my sister was staying? And what about Father or Mitzi?

Or Nigel.

And that surprised me. After what he said the night before, I wanted to strangle him. But the thought of him being in danger twisted my stomach into knots. I couldn't leave my new found family to face the curse alone, either.

So I set out to find them.

I found Nigel first. He was looking for a theatre. He said that he had had a nightmare of being shoved on stage, with a demon conducting the orchestra. That had been the exact nightmare I had had in the morning! In his nightmare, though, the stage had looked familiar. He had been taken to the theatre a bit over a year ago, and he thought it was the same stage. He didn't remember exactly where the theatre was, other then being somewhere near Haymarket Street, but he thought the name had the world "Gallery" in it. I suggested it must have been the Royal Gallery of Illustration.

He asked me what I was doing. I told him the Miss Whitnell had told me about the curse and had warned me to keep an eye out for spirits disguised as Flamenco dancers, and that I had thought I saw some walking that way. He believed me, and we began walking toward the Gallery.

Music started playing again. I don't know where it was coming from, but after several minutes, I felt compelled to sing a few bars of music. A moment later I was singing a chorus about Crossroads. Then, as the music continued, Nigel sang a couple of lines. And he joined me singing the chorus. The music reached a crescendo, and it seemed that the entire city was singing the final chorus.

We were in front of the Gallery, as were Namaste and her other friends, and Mitzi. The show was about to begin. They believed the spirit was inside the theatre, and the spirit had claimed the naval officer they sometimes traveled with them, so they were especially anxious to retrieve him.

Some members of the group did not want to go in through the main entrance, but opted to try to get in through the stage entrance. The others had extra tickets, therefore, and we all went in. It was quickly obvious that the place was under the sway of a powerful spirit. The ushers were all Flamenco dancers, but I don't think they were mortal. When I looked at the program, the printing seemed to be in Chinese characters, yet the others all seemed to see in in English. We made our way back stage.

The cast was in a tizzy. Things were wrong, and kept changing. Someone came up with the plan to shanghai the show. Mitzi and I waylaid the conductor, then Mitzi changed into own of her flashiest gowns -- except she didn't change clothes! She just shimmered, like sunlight on water, and her costume had changed. She went out into the orchestra pit, and announced a new song. And I saw the sheet music on one of the musician's music stand change from the score of the opera, to the song Mitzi had named!

I went back through under the stage and up to the wing. By the time I reached the stage, things had changed again. The evil spirit and her servants were on the stage. Miss Whitnell and a few of their companions had fallen under the spirit's spell and were dancing as she sang about how her songs would set us all free--and then kill us.

Somehow they had found the composer of the opera, who apparently was responsible for the curse. And they had found some amulet that represented the spirit's power. Mrs. Cuthbert was trying to undo the curse by reading the words engraved on the amulet backwards, while everyone else made attempts to stop the demon's song. I grabbed a prop spear I found and started to charge onto the stage. But I found myself unable to move, or even speak, except to hum along with the song.

Finally, Mrs. Cuthbert got it, and the music stopped. We could move again. And everyone attacked the spirit at once. Not that it did much good, spirits are notoriously difficult to harm. But the curse was unspoken, and the spirit's power was waning, so she had to flee, though not before pronouncing to the man who had summoned her that he would never make music again. And then the spirit was gone.

Mitzi insisted I ride in her cab back home, and we talked about what had happened. She asked me to keep certain things to myself, so I suppose I should not record them here.

I have an entire week to myself, and some extra money. What will I do with the time?

Proceed to A break from routine

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