Part One

It had been two long years since he had dared step into the chamber that had been his "lair". His home since he had been but a mere child, the catacombs under the Opera Populaire lay dormant. He gently touched the rusted metal bars that separated him from the painful flood of memories and despair he had run from. It seemed that no matter how far he had run, he was pulled back to this desolate cave.

He slowly pushed the bars aside and stepped once again into the dark underworld that had been the only home he had known for so many years. Looking around him, he saw the destruction the frenzied mob had left behind. Everything he had held so dear was gone. A pang of desolation pushed into his heart as he surveyed the damage of that fateful night.

The fire that had consumed the opera house had not reached the catacombs below. That it seemed was the one blessing that night. Well, maybe not the only one, he thought as his eyes brimmed with tears from the memory. He could still feel the tender passion that coursed through him when his angel kissed him that one time. The memory of her face and voice so poignant in his soul that the slightest thing would cause this pain to well up from his tortured heart.

He stepped over the fragments of broken candles and bent candelabras. White fabric and scattered sheets of tattered papers littered the stone floor about him. He bent over and picked up an ink-splattered piece of parchment. The yellowed sheet was adorned with flowery script and music notes from his past. Recognition flooded his mind as the pangs of guilt spread through his heart. He had made her choose and she had chosen him. She chose him and he let her go with that arrogant boy. He had to let her go. She loved him and he could not condemn such a pure angel to the darkness of his horrid life. She would wither in the dark. Christine needed the light, the spotlight to illuminate her ethereal voice and beauty. He knew this but it didn't make returning here any easier.

He stepped over a few scattered batches of debris and glanced up to the upper level of his hidden grotto. There at the top of the steps stood an organ. The music it had produced was haunting and lovely. He moved up the stairs and wiped off years off dust with his tattered shirt. The bench in front of the organ was unharmed if not clean. He didn't bother to clean the dust off the chair as he sat in front of the massive musical monstrosity. His fingers lightly floated over the ivory colored keys. Did he dare? Would it still play his music as it had done a few years ago? Could he bring himself to fill the catacombs with the sounds of his heart? No, he could not bring himself to do it.

He stood from the great organ and moved to the stairs that led up to the ancient passageways of the Opera Populaire. Moving slowly, he climbed the steps and passed familiar candleholders along the hall. The dust pushing out from under his feet as he moved with determination through the narrow passage. It seemed to take forever as he climbed higher into the chamber. As he reached the doorway that had led him into Christine's room his breath caught. There was a faint glimmer of candlelight flickering beyond the doorway.

Christine, can it be you? He thought to himself as he inched ever closer to the faint glow. No, it can't be. You are with Roaul. You are happy and safe from this torment, this dark life I have been leading these past two years.

The former phantom thought all this as he crept nearer the entrance to the bedchamber. His hands trembled as hegrasped a thin veil of fabric covering the secret passage. He could feel his eyes dampen underneath his discolored mask. He found that even when he knew there was no one around he didn't have the strength to go without it. It was his one hope, the one thing that hid his monstrosity from not only other people but from himself.

He pulled aside the cloth and stepped into Christine's former room. There on her armoire was a single white candle and a red rose. He stepped nearer the lit candle and reached out. He let his fingers touch the flame. The heat forced its way through the chill in the air.

It's really here, he though to himself. Who would dare enter this room?

He scanned the room for any clue as to who had entered the remains of the opera house. There were none. Then for the first time, he noticed a noise. In the distance, yet within the burnt out walls of the building, he could hear people. They were moving things and hammering things. People pushing wide brooms around and clearing out all the debris from the devastating fire that had swept through the building.

As he stood there listening and forgetting about the candle for a moment, a thought came to him. They were cleaning and rebuilding the Opera Populaire. This moment of realization filled him with joy and dread. Would Christine come back here and sing? Should he stay below or should he leave altogether? No, he couldn't leave. He knew that. He had no where else to go.

He turned back to the candle. The glow was lower as the candle was slowly burning out. For the first time, he noticed that this room was clean. There was no dust or dirt anywhere. It had been cleaned already and whoever had done that must have left the candle and rose behind. Still, he had no notion of who would do such a thing. He stepped over to the candle and again let the tiny flame surround his fingers. The heat of the fire so similar to the fire that had once enflamed his soul with passion and yearning for the dark haired creature that had roomed here. He wiped a tiny tear from his hidden eye and turned to leave this haunted place. As he turned around to leave, a flutter of movement caught his eye.

He spun in time to see a stray paper float to the floor at his feet. Someone was here. He bent over and picked up the paper. It was a flyer about the grand re-opening of the "Great Opera Populaire". A private party and preferred to remain anonymous was funding the restoration. According to the paper, the opera house would hold it's grand opening in six months time. He had that long to figure out what was going on here and to either leave or stop it. He couldn't imagine this place filled with music and laughter when none of it would be Christine's.

He let the paper drop from his hand and turned once again to leave the room and pass into the comforting darkness of the catacombs below. He stepped through the doorway and into the narrow passages beyond. He moved slowly, thinking to himself. Wondering if this all meant he would get to see her again. Could he stand to see her knowing he had let her go to another man? Knowing that every night they lay together smiling at each other? Her love and voice were his now. She had chosen him and he had let her go.

He arrived back at his hidden grotto to another surprise. The candelabras were lit. Someone had been here and replaced all the burnt out candles with new white ones and the glow from them gently lit the cavernous gloom. He quickly checked around his home. Nothing was there. They must have left just moments before. He went over to his sleeping area. Sat slowly on the bed and thought over what had happened today. The opera house being restored. Someone had cleaned Christine's room and the same someone, he would wager, had been in his home as well. He lay back suddenly tired and started to drift off to sleep. As the dark began to calm and claim him, he heard a faint sound. An ethereal and hauntingly beautiful sound floated to him. He slipped into unconsciousness as the familiar tune encompassed his heart.

Part Two

Christine sat beside the two headstones. The first she had visited many times since he had died. She missed her father so much. He was so kind and caring. He had been a world-renowned violinist and a wonderful father. When he died, she had been taken in at the Opera Populaire and Madame Giry had treated her as a daughter. Madame Giry actually had a daughter, Meg. Meg and Christine grew up together and both excelled at ballet. Christine on the other hand had acquired a mysterious tutor to help her singing evolve into the voluptuous sound it became. She had always loved her father and the "angel of music" she believed he had sent to her. He turned out to be no angel but a sad and tortured soul. A tortured soul she grew to love and care for a great deal. Then the choice. She knew she could love him and show him all the wonderful things in the world but he had let her go. He had let her return to her childhood love, Raoul.

She can still remember the mournful words as she left with Raoul. They floated out of the catacombs and never looked back. She had stopped here that night at her father's side. She prayed for the Phantom and that her father would keep him safe. Then they left together and within days were married. The next two years had been wonderful. Day after day of traveling, she would stop occasionally and sing for him. He loved her voice and he loved her. Two years of bliss with the only thing to mar her wonderful life the remembrance of a kiss. A kiss so full of love and sadness and desperation that the thought of it would still bring tears to her eyes. Yes, she had loved and married Raoul but she would always be in love with the man that had so many times inspired her voice.

She shifted her gaze to the other tall gray stone beside her. This was only her second visit to this one, her beloved husband, Raoul. He had only been gone a month and the pain and torment of his death still haunted her. He had gotten sick six months ago. They traveled around the world going from doctor to doctor but to no avail. No one could help him and he slowly wasted away before her eyes. There was nothing more painful that the memory of him withering away. She could not leave his bedside those last few weeks. She held his hand and sang to him through his fits of coughing. She watched as again the one person she cared for left her alone.

"I have started the renovations on the opera house, Raoul. I know it is what you wanted. Although, I think, you wanted it for me rather than yourself. Raoul, he is still there. I saw him in the passages beneath the house. He looked so sad and torn. It looked as if life has been very tough on him these past years. I will always love you but you aren't here for me anymore, Raoul. He showed me so many things and taught me more than anyone ever could. It is my turn, Love. I will show him that the world can be kind and loving just as you showed me that there is more to this world than the darkness I had been trapped in. He really is a kind person. I still love him Raoul and I will always love you." She stood and a tiny warm tear fell onto the cold lifeless stone monument that marked her dear husband's final resting-place.

She pulled her traveling cloak tighter about her as a brisk autumn wind blew by. The crisp leaves crackling under her feet as she slowly made her way back to the carriage. She must return to the opera house to over see the renovations and to check on her hidden guest. She knew he had returned and was surprised to see what the world had done to her teacher. He had been so proud and confidant but the years had not been kind to him as they had her. She grew older and her beauty had only strengthened, as had her voice. He had been dirty and ragged when she had glimpsed him in the catacombs after she had lit the candles and cleaned his bed off. She had left him to sleep as she sang quietly to herself a song from so long ago.

The carriage ride back to the opera house seemed to last forever. There was so much to get done if they were to open in a mere six months as her manager had plastered all over the city. They had a lot of confidence in her or perhaps they had a lot of confidence in her money. The latter seemed more likely. She sat in silence and pulled the window curtains together blocking out the evening glow. It had gotten late while she visited her father and late husband. The moon had started its climb into the deep blue sky and her carriage was slowing in front of the newly remodeled front entrance to the opera house. The giant archway over the huge wooden front doors was spectacular. Small cherubs carved in pristine white marble lined the front of the building.

She stepped out of the carriage and let the team of horses be led to the barn for food and rest. It had been along day and she was exhausted. She walked past the masons and the cleaners smiling to them as they strove to clean and rebuild her dreams. She had been given the largest quarters in the opera house. They had belonged to the former owners and were small apartments. Still, she found herself drawn to the room she had stayed in as a child. She worked her way up the stairs and into the tiny room she grew up in. The candle she had lit earlier had burnt itself out and the rose was still there, untouched.

She walked over to the hidden passage and debated whether she should slip down and see if he was still there. In her heart, she knew he was. She could sense him there, in the dark. She stepped forward and over the threshold. She straightened her dress as she moved silently down the stairs. Her amber colored gown flowing behind her as she fussed with the abundant mass of raven hued hair about her shoulders. As she moved down the stairs, she listened. There was a faint sound reverberating up to her from the darkness below.

The sound floated up to her. A familiar thing this strange inhuman tone drifting through the air. The organ was being played. It was sad and melancholy. The music flowing from the large instrument was beautiful and slow. Christine slipped into the main chamber unseen by her former tutor. He was bent over the organ. His fingers moved with fluid accuracy as he softly pressed the keys. The tones and notes in perfect pitch after a few years of dust collecting.

The music drew her closer. She could feel the strange passion that his voice and music had stirred inside her pushing up to the surface. He had always been hypnotic to her. His voice was like a sweet and powerful intoxication. It filled her mind and soul with energy and electricity. She paused just out of reach of him. She could see him breath as he concentrated on his music. His hands strong and deft, moving across the keys flawlessly. She could see he still wore the mask and wanted to reach out and touch it, touch him.

Her breathing quickened as she slowly reached out to touch him. Then she stopped. Should she disturb him? He was playing again and she was sure he hadn't played in years. Would he even want to see her after she left? She backed away. Yet, as she turned to leave his music pulled her back. It had changed. The music was so sad she thought his heart was breaking right there in front of her. How could she leave him? She truly did love him. More than she remembered. Her back was still turned and she had to decide quickly whether to stay or leave before he knew she was there, if he didn't know already.

She turned around to stay. Once more moving up the stairs silently to his inner sanctum. She stood a few feet from him, watching him play and yearning to touch him. He was caught up in the music and so was she. She had made her choice once more and she could not have left if she had wanted too.

Part Three

He was caught up in the music true but he had sensed someone enter his grotto. He knew it was a woman but was not sure who had stumbled into his web. He had debated for nearly an hour whether to stay or leave. He had no where else to go and the small hope that the people renovating the opera house would bring Christine back, was enough to hold him here. He felt old. The past months had been difficult for him. Madame Giry had visited him and she had told him about Christine and Raoul. They seemed happy together, she had said. They traveled the world and loved the freedom. Most of all, Christine loved the light.

He had decided to clean the organ off and see if he could still play. It had been painful at first. Moving things around and cleaning all the rubble off what had been his home. The candles from his mystery visitor still burned, as did his thirst for music and companionship. He sat down after building his courage for nearly an hour. The feel of the keys brought back deep hidden memories and once he started, he could not stop.

Two years of emotion flooded the organ and the air around him filled with his despair. The presence behind him stopped. He knew she was there but he could not stop playing. He could smell a familiar scent but his mind would not allow him to recognize it. The breathing behind him so close he could feel her on the back of his neck. His hands continued to play.

Then she moved. He could tell she wanted to leave. She thought he did not yet know she was there. True, he was caught up in his music but he could tell. Would she leave and if she did, would he try to stop her? Who was it? His heart dared not think it could be Christine. The heartbreak of it being another person altogether would be too much.

He once more caught the scent of a long past memory. A fragrance he knew better than he knew himself. It was her perfume. The hope that had been stamped out long ago tried to breathe again. Yet, she moved further away from him. Was she leaving? The thought of this hurt so much his music changed. It urged his heart out into the open. His hope intertwined with his deep longing for the one person in this twisted world he had ever loved.

She stopped walking away and listened to his heart. He filled her mind with it. His heart pounding as she turned around and came back up the stairs again. She was only a few feet from him. He could hear her heart pounding. A song blending with his own heartbeat. He could feel her, sense her presence. It was her, Christine. His mind swam at the thought that she was here with him. Wasn't she married? Yes, Madame Giry said they got married only days after they left here that horrid night. Why was she here? Why must she torment this already beaten soul?

He stopped playing. He let his shoulders slump as the music stopped playing and he felt a hot sting on his cheek as a tear fell. He wanted to turn and see who it was. He had to know if she had returned or if he had but dreamed it all as e had so many times before.

Slowly, he stood. The person behind moved closer and the faint smell of lavender filled him with hope once more. He wanted to turn but he could not bring himself to do it. He could not turn and find no one there. So many times before he had turned and nothing was there. He had imagined it all and it hurt worse every time.

The person behind him moved closer. He could feel her breath, warm and moist, passing over the back of his neck. She placed a hand on his shoulder and slowly turned him around. He closed his eyes unwilling to be tricked by his heart anymore. He thought he could feel her this time. How much more pain could he endure, he wondered. He would open his eyes and there before him would be the dark. It was always the dark that awaited him when he opened his eyes. Another tear streaked down from under the mask he wore. He thought he felt a soft hand brush the tear away but this would not be so. How he never wanted to open his eyes.

Part Four

The tear that fell from his eye hurt her so much. Christine reached out and gently wiped it away. He had known she was here the entire time. Why had he not tried to stop her? Why did he hurt so much? She knew why he hurt and the knowledge was unbearable. She was why he hurt. He didn't believe she was here. If only he would open his eyes and look at her. He didn't want to and she couldn't blame him. She had left him alone for too long and now he was lost.

She stepped closer to him. Her body inches from his and her heart raced as she leaned over to his ear. She pressed her cheek to his and breathed into his ear softly.

"Open your eyes kind tutor and see that your student has returned to you." She gently kissed his cheek as she pulled back from him slightly.

She stared at him as another tear fell from his eyes. His breath had caught as she had spoke to him and he slowly opened his eyes. She caught his gaze and the pain in his eyes was so intense it hurt to look into them. She had done this to him and that hurt even more. He looked from one eye to another. Searching her face for some sign of illusion.

"I promise I am not a ghost or a vision. I am really here." She reached out once more and touched his cheek.

"Oh, you are a vision, Christine. Truly, you are a vision to grand to believe." He leaned into her hand. A smile flickered across his mouth but before it could form it was gone. "You should not be here. You should be with Raoul. You should not have returned to this world of night and darkness. It was never a world for you." He started to turn away from her.

"He isn't with me anymore. Raoul died. He left me alone and my dad left me alone…and… and…" She couldn't help it and the tears she had held back broke through. She slipped to the floor and he knelt beside her. She shuddered from the grief and then felt strong arms surround her. They lifted her up and encompassed her in warmth.

"Christine, I will never leave you. I have always loved you and all I have ever wanted was for you to love me in return. I am so sorry for all I have done to you. Christine?" He asked as she glanced up into his eyes. "Christine, I love you."

She pressed herself into him and sobbed softly. He loved her. After all this time, he still loved her. She loved him too but would she be betraying Raoul's memory if she said she loved him? Suddenly another thought hit her. She didn't know his name. He was no longer the Phantom of the Opera. He was a man, a man that she loved.

She pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes. He still hurt. She could see it in there. The world had thrown him away and even when she had decided to stay with him that night he had given her up for her own good. He could not condemn her to his life and he had made her leave with Raoul. That decision had been the hardest and most human thing he had eve done but it had taken its toll on him as well. The scar was deep and still bleeding. Could she ever heal him?

"What is bothering you? There is something in your eyes. I can see it there yearning to ask me something" He spoke what her heart and mind had been thinking. He had always been able to read her. He could see into her very soul and that is what had made him so dangerous.

"I don't know your name." She said as she searched his face for a reaction. He loosened his hold on her and she feared she had said the wrong thing. "You are no Phantom to me. You are a man. A man that…that I love very much."

He looked down at her and again tears formed in his eyes. He ran his hands through her hair. He looked down into her eyes and she knew he was deciding if he should tell her. It would make him someone else.

"My name is Erik." He said to her while gazing deeply at her face. His eyes scanning, searching for a reaction.

"Erik," she said aloud. She reached up and slowly took hold of the mask he wore. He flinched slightly but made no movement to stop her. She let the mask fall to the floor and it slipped down the stairs. Her hands ran across his scarred and disfigured face. She did not flinch or move away from him. She smiled.

"I love you, Erik." She said as her hands wrapped around his neck. He pulled her closer and she leaned into his chest. The embrace was long and gentle. He held her and she relaxed into him. All her guilt leaving as she settled into his warmth and gentleness. She looked up at him again and this time moved her mouth closer to his. She had dreamed of kissing him again. Would the passion and longing still be there? Would he kiss her back? She slowly kissed his cheek and then the other one. The scarred side just as warm as the other one. She pressed small kisses along his face getting ever closer to his trembling lips.

Part Five

His mind whirled as Christine, his Christine, said she loved him. She used his name and said she loved him. His face felt hot as she moved her mouth along his cheek. She moved over to his "bad" side. She never flinched or looked away. It was as if she couldn't see the obvious difference in his appearance. Her kisses were soft and gentle. She moved over to his mouth and he found he was trembling.

She looked into his face and reached up. He closed his eyes as her hands moved to the sides of his face and gently pulled him down to her. He gasped softly as her lips touched his. He felt like he couldn't breath. Everything was so much more that it had been moments ago. She pressed her lips to his with more warmth than he had ever known. He found himself reacting to her touch. He pushed his mouth tighter around hers and wrapped his arms around her waist. Lifting her off the ground, he was overcome for the first time with joy. He spun her around and she released their kiss as she laughed and clung to him.

The smile on her face was so nice. He almost didn't believe she was here. He waited for the moment when he would wake up into the darkness again. However, something was different this time. This was no dream. She was here with him and she loved him.

He smiled down at her and her face changed for a moment.

"What is it, Christine?" He asked her the concern in his voice obvious.

"I have never seen you smile. Then again, the only time I have seen you in the past two years has been in my mind and in my dreams. So often in my dreams… I remember the night I got married I dreamed…" she looked down and let the words trail off.

"Christine, there hasn't been a night I haven't thought about you. Your voice filled my dreams and your face would appear in front of me everywhere. I know I did the right thing when I let you leave with him. He loved you so much. I couldn't let you stay here. Not after all that I had done. Oh Christine, I was a monster." He looked away from her and sat down on the cold stone floor. He couldn't look at her. She had come back to him. After all the things he had done to her and everyone else, she had still come back to him.

He felt her hands lift his chin so she could look into his eyes.

"Erik," she said his name again and shivers of what could only be delight ran down his back. "You are not the man you once were. I could hear it in your music. The music you had written before was beautiful but harsh and seductive. The music I heard from you tonight touched my soul. It moved me to tears and was haunting and lovely. That is who you are now. We have both changed. You were the Phantom, a strange vision of dark seduction and lust and danger that came to me at night and could control my very being with a look. Now, you are a different person. The smile I just saw lifted my heart. Showed me a side of you that is light and gentle. You are not that creature of the night, Erik. You are the man that I love. The man I have always loved."

She bent and kissed him again. Her warmth flooding into him and his guilt tried to push its way to the surface again. He refused to let it this time as he kissed her back and they stood together. He took her hand and pulled her to him and they sat down together. Before them stretched a lake, dark and mysterious. He glanced to the boat he had sat in with her once a long time ago. He squeezed her hand as she snuggled over to him.

"I remember swirling mists on a vast glassy lake." She looked up at him and smiled before turning back to the waters smooth surface.

Erik put his arm around her and sat there, silent.

Part Six

It was getting late into the night and Christine knew she had to leave. The workers would be getting ready to leave for the evening and she had to meet with the opera house's new manager. That was not a task she was looking forward to doing. She had learned a lot in the two years of being a Viscount's wife. Business, it seemed was one of those things.

She glanced up at her Phantom and smiled to herself. How many times had she dreamed of this even while married to Raoul? She had lost count. She slowly stood up and pulled him up with her.

"You have to go now don't you?" He asked her with a tinge of fear in his voice.

"Yes, I have to deal with the opera house and the new manager this evening. Not something, I am particularly looking forward to. Yet, it has to be done. I feel as if I owe it to Raoul to restore the Opera Populaire to its original glory before…you know." Christine looked away from Erik before turning to leave.

Erik reached out and grabbed her hand as she turned. She caught the look of desperation and fear in his eyes when she looked back. She stopped and placed a hand on his cheek.

"Erik, I am not leaving you. I will never leave you again. I have to go to the meeting with the new manager and settle on some issues with the renovation. Will you wait for me?" Christine smiled at him gently.

"You know I will wait a lifetime for you, Christine. It seems as if I have already waited a lifetime. I will be here when you are finished with your new duties." She could see he did not want her to leave but was trying not to slip into the controlling and obsessive person he had been. For this simple act, she was eternally grateful to him.

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and raced back up the stairs and the hidden hallway to her former room. She was floating as she reached the threshold into her old chambers. Her smile bigger with every stair she had taken. She stepped into her quarters and lit another white candle. The light spread through the room as the flame grew. She looked around and moved over to her armoire to change into a more formal gown.

After fighting with her hair for fifteen minutes, she decided she looked fine and headed down to the nearly completed entrance hall where the grand staircase was getting its finishing touches. The room opened before her. Marble and gold detailing everywhere, there were cherubs and angels lining the walls and over the top of the stairs a set of masks. They were two masks, a comedy and a tragedy one. A friend of her father had donated it to the opera house when he had heard that she was going ahead with the renovation after Raoul died.

She stepped down the grand staircase and smiled to the gentleman finishing the hand carvings along the side railings. She slowed long enough to see what they had been carving. In intricate script, she could read hundreds of names. After reading a few, she realized they were the names of the people that perished in the fire tow years earlier. Christine couldn't believe there had been so many.

As she finished the walk down the staircase, she thought to herself about the phantom, Erik. Had she done the right thing by returning here? All those people died because he had not only loved her but also been obsessed with her. What was she thinking stepping back into his world again? She knew the answer before she even thought it. She loved him.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs she saw two gentlemen awaiting her arrival. She gracefully walked over to the table they had set up in the middle of the entrance hall. It was more of a welcoming room or chamber than a hall. It had high cathedral ceilings and could accommodate five hundred people at one time. It had been a very grand entrance room a few years ago during the New Year's masquerade. That had indeed been a memorable evening.

A tall thin man stepped forward to introduce himself and the shorter squat man behind him blushed when she shook his hand.

"Madame De Chanley, I am Monsieur Ulric LaDaeu. I am the person you late husband, the Viscount, hired to manage the Opera Populaire. I have only a few questions before I take over the business of running your opera house for you. This gentleman behind me is Monsieur Gerald Falieur. He will be the gentleman handling the promotion of the opera house and he will oversee hiring and dismissal of the stage crew and orchestra." The tall gentleman was very confident as he spoke. He obviously assumed he was speaking to a woman who had no idea what she was doing. This would have to be rectified immediately.

Christine motioned the two men to sit at the table that had been set up for them to use. The waited until she had sat and the seated themselves. This was going to have to be quick and she would have to show no signs of feminine weakness or they would pounce all over her. She was suddenly thankful for all the business and political lessons Raoul had forced into her.

"Gentlemen, before you get ahead of yourselves, I would like to say a few things." She waited just long enough for them to acknowledge her before continuing.

"I was raised in this opera house. I had and may again play lead in a few plays in my time and the one thing I know better than anything, is how an opera house runs. I agreed to let you stay on as manager since my late husband thought you would be an asset to the Opera Populaire. As to the hiring and dismissal of the staff, I have no problem with leaving that to you Monsieur Falieur. You will however, talk to me about each and everyone before any action is taken. Do you have any problems with this request, Sir?" She was deliberate in her sweet tone and flashed her most stunning smile. The effect on the short little man was exactly as she had hoped. He blushed deeply and muttered an agreement.

"Now then, I believe you had some questions Sir?" She asked, as she looked the taller of the two gentlemen over thoroughly.

"I only had a few minor concerns about the managerial duties. I had been told that I would handle money concerns and assure that the staff received payment. I will also search for other talent to bring to the opera house and all charity events and contributions are to go through me as well. Is this all correct Madame?" His tone was cautious but Christine could tell he was challenging her. She would have to set him straight it seemed.

"Monsieur LaDaeu, I am fully aware of the duties my late husband hired you for. I may still be young in the business world but let me assure you that in the world of the stage, I am a veteran. I had a wonderful teacher and have learned to read people very well. What is it you want to ask that you are holding back?" From the look on LaDaeu's face, she could tell she had struck a chord.

He shifted uneasily in his chair before he could recover from her observation. This was just the tell Christine had been looking for. She already had a decent idea of what he was going to ask and she was not sure what she was going say.

"You are indeed an experienced artisan, Madame. I also see that you are very astute and little will get past your watchful eye." Christine could tell he was baiting her, watching her reaction to each and every word. She was determined not to give him the satisfaction.

"Please get to the point, Monsieur." She said as politely as possible.

"I only mention watchful eyes to bring up the incident that caused us to be here now. We all know of the Phantom and that you had an essential role in the disaster that befell this great house. I worry that we may experience a reoccurrence of such a presence if you are going to be a visual presence in the operations of this business." He looked quite pale as he finished. He actually thought that by speaking his mind she would let him go. Raoul had made a huge effort in getting this gentleman and she wasn't about to dismiss him, although he didn't need to know that.

"I assure that that incident has been taken care of. I do not believe we need worry about any Phantom disrupting the operations of the opera house. Let the ghosts of the past rest, Monsieur." With that, Christine politely stood.

"I have other duties to attend to gentleman. I believe you have a well-defined understanding of your positions here. If either of you have any other questions, please let me know." She tilted her head slightly and left the room.

The walk back to her room was a long one. If she had stayed in the apartment that had been given to her, it would have been a short jaunt. Yet as things were, she had to go to the far side of the opera house were the dancers and staff had their quarters. Once the house was full and a running business, again she would have to get a lock for her door.

As she approached her room, she could tell something wasn't as she had left it. The door was ajar and she knew it had been pulled shut before she had left for the meeting. She walked into her room cautiously, searching for anything out of place or missing. Everything seemed normal and the entrance to the catacombs was undisturbed.

She sat in front of the mirror atop her armoire and let her hair fall about her shoulders. A thick bristled brush lay on the top of the armoire and she ran her hand along its course top. She ran it through her lush hair a few times and slipped into a more comfortable nightgown. She slipped on some low shoes and turned towards the mirror that hide the entrance to the Phantoms lair. A spark of fear erupted through her as she stepped towards it. She couldn't tell what was wrong yet something was out of place.

Christine moved through the mirror and into the dark. Silence surrounded her. Suddenly she felt as if she should run and she did. Faster and faster, down hundreds of stairs and through the last threshold into the dimly lit lair of the Phantom. She dashed over to his hidden bedchamber and threw open the curtain closing it off from the rest of the cavernous area.

.She felt that twinge of fear turn into full-fledged horror. She turned and looked around the chamber again. She didn't see him anywhere and her fear was growing. It swept through her like a fire. Filling her soul with a depth of despair, she had never known. Where could he be, she wondered, as she became desperate in her search. She would not lose him now. She had lost too many people she loved already.

"Erik, where are you?" She said aloud but timidly. She dreaded the answer she would get. Worse yet, no answer at all.

Part Seven

He ran through the catacombs that enter twined under the opera house. Someone had been in his chambers and he had a suspicion they got there by way of Christine's hidden door. He had been so deep in thought, remembering Christine's words and her touch that he hadn't noticed the other presence in his inner sanctum. He was cleaning behind the organ when they arrived uninvited. The instrument had performed beautifully but his ear could detect a slight pitch correction.

Erik stopped his cleaning and listened. Someone was moving around in her and it was not the dainty footsteps of his beloved. This person was a stranger and a surge of anger tainted his pleasant mood. Who would dare enter his abode uninvited? They would pay dearly for this intrusion into his domain. Another thought struck him as he sat there preparing to face the unknown stranger. Christine would not want him to hurt anyone. He had done too much of that in the past and he was no longer the Phantom. He was Erik and Christine loved him.

Moving to look around the side of the massive instrument, he tried to peer into the dimly lit room and see who had disturbed his work. As he leaned over a candleholder tipped and fell to the floor. The resulting clatter startling the intruder and whomever it ran towards the labyrinth of tunnels leading out of his chamber.

Erik ran after the strange intruder and into the tunnels. He knew these passages better than any living person and was sure he would catch up to the person in no time. He could her the footsteps fleeing around into the darkness and pursued as fast as he could. Whoever this person was, they were fast. He followed deeper into the catacombs until the stranger's footsteps silenced. He could not tell which way they had gone and his anger erupted again. Who could escape him in his own home?

As he searched around the tunnels, he thought about the situation. He had let Christine go and she had returned to him. She was restoring the Opera Populaire and soon there would be people and music filling its halls. The charred remains of this desolate hovel would be transformed by Christine's touch just as his heart had been. She seemed to have a talent for healing.

He turned and slowly headed back for his inner chambers to search for whatever it was the intruder had been doing there. They must have been searching for him or something he had. He had only recently returned to his former home himself. Besides Christine, who else could know he had returned? He could not think of anyone.

He was lost in thought as he neared his chambers. As he entered the main room, he could hear a soft sobbing. He looked around and saw no one. Then after a moment of listening, he recognized the sound. It was the sound of a soft despair he had heard many times. He had also caused it a few of those times as well. Where was she? He thought to himself as he searched the vast room.

He suddenly realized the sound was coming from behind the organ. He moved over to it quickly and there on the ground sat Christine. She did not seem to notice him as he moved up to her. She was crying and looked to be in such pain. Had the meeting gone that poorly, he wondered. There was something clutched in her frail fingers. As he moved up the stairs to the alcove that held the organ, he became aware of what the object was. It was his mask. He hadn't even realized he had left it behind when he left to pursue the intruder.

"Christine…angel…what's the matter?" He asked gently as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped up at his touch and spun around. She let the mask drop as she reached for him. The sound of the mask as it hit the floor reverberated through the room. Christine was crying, only now harder. She clung to him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"Christine, what is the matter? Was the meeting that bad? What happened?" He held her close until she had calmed down enough to speak to him.

She pulled back and looked up at him. Her eyes teary and red from crying and all he could think, was how beautiful she was. He hair was a disheveled mess and lay haphazardly over one shoulder. Her white nightgown dusty from sitting on the cold ground behind the organ.

"Someone had been in my room. The door was ajar when I returned and I was worried about you. I ran down as fast as I could but you weren't here. I looked for you and called out. I thought something had happened when I found your mask behind the organ. Oh, Erik I thought you had left me or worse, someone had made you leave." She pressed her face back into his chest and clung to him tightly.

The news that someone had been in her room as well as his own sparked a new surge of anger within him. Someone had entered not only his room but also the place where his beloved angel slept. He made a silent vow to find this person and discover what it was they were searching for. If they dared touch his angel of music, it would be the last thing they ever did.

He calmed himself, not wanting to worry Christine further and turned her face up to his own.

"Christine, it would take all the demons in Hell to tare me away from you. They would get more then they bargained for if they tried. Believe me. There was someone in here a few hours ago as well. I was behind the organ cleaning it and I heard their footsteps. I don't believe they knew I was here until I accidentally knocked over a candleholder. They ran and I followed. I hadn't realized I left my mask behind at all. See what you have to me?" He smiled at her and saw some of the tension drain from her face.

"Did you find who it was?" She asked with a degree of fear and worry in her voice.

"No I did not. They know these tunnels as well as I. Honestly, I was overconfident. I did not believe anyone could hide or escape from me here, in this place. It appears that I was wrong." He slowly moved away from her and bent to pick up his mask. He dusted it off and placed it back over the disfigured part of his face. He knew he didn't need it around Christine but with the new discovery of the stranger, he felt better with it.

He turned back to her to find she was trying to get the dirt and dust of her gown. She straightened up and fixed her hair with the expertise of a wardrobe manager. She looked over at him and flashed a brilliant smile that lit the room far more than the candles ever could have. He walked over to her and took her delicate hand in his. He led her to his bed to sit. She sat down and he took a spot on the opposite side of the bed from her.

"Did everything go well with the new manager? You seemed reluctant to meet with him this evening and I wondered how everything had gone." He looked into her eyes and thought he saw a flash of anger in them. He had only once seen her angry and he had been the cause of that flash too.

"Everything went fine. They thought they could move around me as if I was some sort of child and was not able to understand the workings of an opera house. Not to worry though, they know better now. I will not have this restoration fall through and Raoul loved this place even after all that happened here." She let her eyes drift from his face to floor as she spoke. She wasn't telling him something.

"What else happened, Christine? They are wondering about me aren't they?" He already knew the answer by the way she didn't look at him.

"No, Erik they are worried about the Phantom. You are not that person anymore. I let them know that I would deal with all matters that revolved around the Phantom and that they should let the past rest. I think they will listen. I do not like the manager, Monsieur LaDaeu. I know Raoul had every confidence in him yet I feel as if he believes me to be a child. I will have to keep a close eye on him in the future." Christine slipped off the bed and moved over to sit beside him.

Erik watched her as she sat down beside him on the bed. She had grown so much in two years. She was not only beautiful but also stunning. She had a maturity that he had not known in her before. The childish innocence was still there but it had been tempered by time. She was a woman and no longer the child he had known. If it was possible, she had become more than he had ever thought someone could.

He hadn't asked about Raoul's death but he wanted to know what had driven her back into his arms. Should he ask or let it go. No, he should ask about it. They needed to be honest with each other if they were to be together. Too many things had been kept hidden before and that had torn apart whatever future he believed they could have had. He wasn't going to let that happen again.

Part eight

Christine sat next to Erik on the bed and they spoke about the incident with the new manager. He seemed to be taking it well. She had worried he would get upset if he found out about the manager's view about the former Phantom. She slid a little closer and leaned her head onto his shoulder. There was still something bothering him. She may have been away for awhile but she had learned how to read people very well. Another lesson Raoul had her learn.

"I know something else is bothering you. Even with the mask, your eyes are haunted. What is wrong Erik?" She reached over and placed her hand in his. She gently rubbed the inside of his hand and looked through the curtain that separated the bed from the rest of the chamber.

He seemed to be thinking or maybe searching was a better description. He wasn't looking at anything in particular. His eyes were darting around the bedchamber, never resting on any one thing for more than a few seconds. He finally seemed resigned to speak of what was on his mind.

"Christine, I want the two of us to be honest with each other. I don't want to keep any secrets from you the way I once did. We are starting over. I thought you should know that. I wanted to ask you something. Raoul was so young…your age if I remember correctly. Well, closer to your age than I am." He paused again. He seemed either unable or unwilling to bring himself to ask what was on is mind. Christine was sure she had it figured out though.

"He caught malaria. We weren't sure how exactly. He loved to travel and see new places. He loved the sunrise and no matter where we were that day he had to wake up early and see the sun rise over a new place. Neither of us even knew he had been infected until he was very ill. The doctors could do nothing. I was desperate. We traveled to every doctor and hospital we could find. He just got worse. Finally, we had to return home and wait. That was the worse part, the waiting. He was weak. After a few weeks, he could no longer get out of bed so I stayed with him. Oh, Erik he was so sick. He wasted away in front of my eyes. He had been so strong and proud…" She collapsed into him crying. She tried to stop but it was no use. She hadn't told anyone about Raoul and it felt both freeing and horrible at the same time.

She sat by Erik crying for what seemed a very long time. He held her and stroked her hair. How could this man with her have ever done the things he did a few years ago? He was so different. What, she wondered had changed him? Where had he been this long time she had been away?

Christine sat up and took the cloth Erik offered her to dry her eyes. She folded the cloth in her hands repeatedly. Looking at it brought back a memory. She was suddenly on the stage of the former Opera Populaire and she was singing with the Phantom. She was caught up in the depth of the words he had written for her. The music surrounded her as she moved across the stage and into the Phantoms arms. It was a threshold he had pushed her over that night. A point of no return and no turning back.

She snapped out of her reverie as she realized it was the fabric she was holding that had brought back the memory. She stared at it and recognized it as a piece of her costume from that night. So long ago it seemed, she had been an innocent child trying to please her teacher and master. Now, she was older. A few years time had taken it's toll on her and she had to grow up. Time, it seemed had done the same to the Phantom. Time had killed him and before her there was a different person altogether. Yet, it was still him. Still the man that she had fallen in love with. Still the unseen genius that came into her room late at night and taught her to give her voice wings.

Erik leaned over kissed her forehead. Such a simple gesture of caring was nearly enough to send her into a fit of tears again. Somehow, she managed to keep herself together.

"I didn't know, Christine. We may have had our differences but he loved you as much as I did. I will always respect him for that. I will always be indebted to him for getting you out of this hellish night and into the sun where you should always be. Here with me in this dark prison is no place for a flower such as you. I would have wished a better end for him though he gave you more than I ever could and I can see that." Erik stopped speaking. Tears had welled up in his eyes again and he turned away from her to hide his face. Christine knew how much it had hurt to say those things. She knew that somewhere deep inside he hated Raoul for having the time he had gotten to spend with her. She could not be angry with him for that. He had every right to still feel that way.

"I know Madame Giry visited you these past few years. How is she? I haven't seen her since the wedding and she looked…tired. Meg wasn't with her that evening and she didn't mention her either. I thought it rather strange at the time but then everything seemed so strange." Christine could see she had said something wrong. He had gotten up and moved across the room and out into the main chamber. She got up and followed him.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you. I really have no idea what you have been doing or where you have been while I was away. Madame Giry had always been like a mother to me, Meg like a sister. I haven't seen either of them since…" She let her voice trail off as she stood behind Erik and waited for some kind of response. He seemed so angry and sad. What had happened to him while she had been with Raoul?

Part nine

He stood there with his back to her debating if he should tell her what had happened in the time she had been away. He knew he would have to. She had been honest about Raoul and he could tell it had hurt to talk about it. Where should he start? From the beginning or rather the end, he had thought it was the end of him the night he had let her go. He stared out across the underground lake and took a deep breath.

"I left here that night believing I would die. How could I possibly go on without you? I knew you would be happy and that Raoul would keep you safe. You would live in the light and see the brilliant sunlight. I wondered if you would continue to sing. Somehow, I knew you would. The music is deep within your soul. I left and the mob flooded in looking for me. They found nothing. Rather, they found very little. You can see for yourself what they did to my home and my…music. Everything was ruined." He had to stop for a moment and gather himself. He didn't realize how painful this would be.

"I ran deep into the catacombs I knew so well. I could hide many other places. They spread out under the city for miles. I walked a long time before I realized where I was. I found myself in a series of tunnels that led underneath Madame Giry's original home. She showed me where it was once when I was a child. We would sneak out and she would show me many places. It was easy moving about at night. No one was concerned about us then. I stayed there. I didn't know that she had returned there after the opera house had burned. I sat in the tunnels for a few days and I was so hungry. Madame Giry had always arranged everything for me since I could not leave my chambers. Then I heard her. She was singing. I think she must have known I would go there because shortly after I heard her sing she left the house and found her way into the tunnels. I found her a few yards away from where I had been sleeping. She seemed so relieved to see me alive but she was sad. Sad at the circumstances she had to visit me. She told me about you and Raoul rather reluctantly and I told her I had let you go. I believe she thought I was a fool but she understood as well." He turned around and looked back at Christine. She stood there listening to every word.

"Madame Giry would visit me everyday and tell me what was going on in the world above me. She brought me a small harp and I would play for hours. It seemed that Madame Giry was not the only one that listened to my music, Meg did as well. She became attached, if you will, to me. I think she missed the opera house and your friendship. I was a reminder of that but I was angry and hurt. I wanted nothing to do with her or anything else that reminded me of you and what I had lost. Meg would sneak out of the house and come to see me whenever she could. Madame Giry was furious about it and forbade her to enter the tunnels again. She didn't listen." He walked over to Christine and took her hand. He pulled her over to himself and they sat down by the waters edge.

"Meg came down into the tunnels one night, a few months after you had gotten married. She had a bag with her and something else in her hand. She came into the side area where I slept and sat down on the bed. She looked nervous, I remember and excited as well. I sat up and asked her what she was doing there. I told her she should leave or her mother would be furious with the both of us. She refused to leave me. She said she had packed up some things and wanted to leave home and wanted me to go with her. I didn't understand what she meant. I had been so consumed with grief and regret over you and hadn't noticed what was going on with Meg. She had…become infatuated with me. She said she loved me but I tried to tell her she was wrong. She wouldn't listen though. She was hurt. I tried to tell her I couldn't love anyone. My heart had broken the night I let you go and I would never love anyone again. She still would not listen. She tried to tell me that if I gave her a chance I would see that I could love someone else." He was getting angry and upset as he told Christine of what had happened that night. She just watched the lake and listened to him.

"I had stood up by then and was pacing the tiny tunnel I had been staying in. She walked over to me and placed something in my hand. It was this," he pointed to the mask he was again wearing. "She had found it the night she led the mob into my chambers. I didn't know what to say or do. I put it back on and turned away from her. She tried to convince me to leave with her but I still refused. When I turned back around to try to explain there must have been something in my eyes. She looked into them and started to cry. She said she understood. Just as I loved you, Christine she loved me and knew that if she couldn't get me away from the memory of you she did not have a chance. I could see her heart break. Right there in front of my eyes, I had destroyed another sweet soul. She took her bag and left. I assumed she was going home but I was wrong. Later that evening Madame Giry came into the tunnels to see me and asked if I had seen Meg. I told her what had happened and she broke down into tears. She said she knew about the infatuation but thought it nothing more. Meg did not return that night and Madame Giry did not return to see me after that." He stopped talking to look at Christine. Her face was flooded with emotion.

"I have been on my own since that night. Scavenging and finding whatever I could. I stayed close to here but could not bring myself to return. Then one night I had a dream. A dream of you crying in a cemetery and it was so real that I had to come back here. Something drew me back. Then you appeared and I could not believe you were actually here. It was like I was still dreaming." He stopped and looked back over at Christine's face. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. Was she upset with him over what had happened with Meg? He tried to read her, to see a glimmer of forgiveness on her face. He could see nothing but pain.

Part ten

Christine had listened to what Erik was saying. She looked out over the lake and thought about it all. Meg had always seemed so fascinated by her "Angel of Music" and at the same time, she never believed her either. She should have seen it. When everything had started with the Phantom, Meg had started to take more of an interest in him. She had always assumed that she was worried about her but it seems that it was the Phantom she had been worried about. No, she didn't blame Erik. She blamed herself. She had been the one to get Meg involved with everything and she should have seen this coming.

Finally, she looked over at Erik. He was looking at her and seemed worried. How could anyone who knew who him ever hate him? He was kind and caring. He was brilliant and tender and such a wonderful person under all the torment. She understood what it was that Meg had seen in him. Meg got to know the Phantom through her eyes and if Meg had seen half of what she had seen how could she not love him?

"Erik, you didn't know. I should have though. She was practically my sister and she saw you the way I saw you. With love and admiration and she saw you with her heart as I do. I never thought about it though. I was so caught up in my own little world that I never thought of anything but you and Raoul. I am so sorry." She reached out and took his hand in hers.

"I only wish I knew where she had gone to. I haven't seen either of them in over a year. They could be anywhere. Do you think they will return with the opening of the Opera Populaire?" Erik looked almost hopeful as he asked Christine.

"I have been sending messages to Madame Giry. I was hoping she would return to teach the new school of dancers I have been assembling. I have to interview and audition each one and she was so good at that. I trust her judgement and so want to see her return to the opera house. I haven't heard from her as of yet though. So all we can do is wait and see." Christine stood and pulled Erik up to join her. She moved so that he could see her face as she spoke.

"I have lost a lot of people in my life. I do not blame you for any of it. In a way, I do think my father sent you to me. He promised he would send the angel of music to me and I think he did. I will always think of you that way, as my angel of music." She placed a hand on his uncovered cheek and smiled up at him. His eyes sparkled with fresh tears but he did not look sad. He looked relieved.

"I need to go back to my room and get some sleep. I have a long day of auditions and renovations to oversee tomorrow. It is coming along so beautifully. I wish you could see it." She suddenly had an idea. "Erik, it is late and everyone has left. We are the only ones here. The managers stay elsewhere until their rooms are ready and the workers all leave around six so the opera house is empty. Walk with me. See what I am doing with the opera house. I want your opinion and company."

He seemed to be thinking about it. He looked nervous and she was sure he was going to say no. Then something in his face and demeanor changed. He held himself up taller and turned to walk back to the bedchamber. She followed him and saw him reach for a cape. He slung the black wrap around himself and reached out his hand for hers. Together they left the dark catacombs and climbed the stairs to the dimly lit rooms above.

She led him out of her room and through the halls to the newly built stage. It was bigger than before and the news chains that would hold the rebuilt chandelier had been put up this morning. The audience area had been lined with new chairs and the balconies were being furnished in a few weeks. Box five was being rebuilt and she slowly led Erik up.

Outside in the hall there were numbers on all the doors to the private balconies. She led him past all the doors until they reached box five. There on the outside of the door, like the other doors, was a large gold number five. At first, she didn't think he had noticed the difference with this door. Then he saw it.

"Christine, this is box five. Does that plaque say 'reserved'?" He asked with shock in his voice and astonishment in his eyes.

"Yes, it does. It is a permanent placement. This box will never be available to the public, only you and I. I wanted it to be a surprise. I hope you don't mind. That and honestly, I didn't want to worry about the public trying to get the famous 'box five' every night. This will simplify things. Look out over here." She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the long cushioned bench in the center of the balcony. She motioned him to sit on the bench and she joined him.

"When we sit here, we have a perfect view of the new stage. The unique thing about this balcony is I had it completely rebuilt. We can sit here and watch the operas but the people below us and in the other balconies cannot see in. It is a freedom I wanted to give you. I hope you like it." She looked over at him to try to gauge his reaction.

"I don't know what to say. This is wonderful. I will be able to attend an opera like anyone else and no one will know. How did you do this? Never mind. It doesn't really matter. No one has ever done anything like this for me before." He turned stood up and grabbed her, swung her around and wrapped her up in his arms. He was smiling. That was all the thanks she needed from him. She had made him smile and for a few minutes forget all that had happened to him.

"Come on," she said as she pulled him out of the balcony room door and headed to the main staircase. "I have so much to show you. Think of it, for the next few months there will be no one here but us. We can go on walks every evening and you can stay up here with me. I can show you the wonderful things we are doing."

They walked around the parts of the opera house that had been restored enough to travel. Erik would smile occasionally and point out what could be added or the things he didn't like. Christine wanted his approval and opinion on everything that they were doing. She would show him a dressing room or the site for the kitchens. They worked so well together. He knew a lot more about the inner workings of an opera house than she did and his ideas were wonderful. He had ideas for future operas and plays to be held. She would smile and laugh as he suggested a lead role for herself. She wasn't sure if she would take to the stage again. It would be wonderful to get up on stage and sing an aria to an audience of appreciative opera lovers. Could she sing here in this the future Opera Populaire?

Christine was startled from her thoughts when she felt Erik's hand tighten around hers. Something had made him uneasy and he had pulled her over to him as he stopped walking. She looked over to his face and could tell he was listening for something. She strained her ears but heard nothing. Then, a faint sound as if someone was walking above them on the scaffolding. She looked up but could see nothing. She started to move over for a better view but Erik pulled her to him and stepped out of the passageway and under a painter's scaffold.

"There is someone above us. I could hear them move around and follow us as we moved through the passages. They are very nimble and quiet but I have been in the dark all my life and I know how see things. Christine, I want to take you back to my chamber. Then I will come back here and figure out who is following us." Erik took her by the hand and slowly wound his way back to the hallway to her room. He led her down once more into the dark catacombs under the opera house. Once they had arrived in the main chamber across from the lake, he walked her over to his bed.

"I want you to stay here. Please, just listen to me and stay in here. I will return in no more than an hour. I hope that I will know who is haunting us. I did not give up my days as the phantom so someone else could take my place. This is our home and your dream. No one will chase you off again." He leaned down and gave her a kiss before she could object. He left across the lake and headed into the main part of the building.

She stayed in his bed and looked out into the darkness that surrounded her. The last of the candles had burnt out and it was near total dark around her. She thought about lighting a candle but that might alert whoever was wandering around that she was down there. No, she would wait for Erik to return before she lit the chamber again. She lay back on the bed and tried to remain calm and listen for any sign of Erik's return. Nothing but silence answered her as she breathed a prayer for the man she loved.

Part eleven