Chapter Three - An Appeal To An Old Friend
He made his way slowly through Paris, through the night.
For the first time, he walked the streets with his face uncovered, but there was no one to see, no one to cry out or turn away in terror.
A few blocks from the burning Opera House, he stopped before a small flat. The concierge was asleep, the front door unlocked.
Quietly, he ascended the stairs to a familiar door and knocked. An old friend answered the summons.
"Good evening, Nadir."
"You! I thought...I saw the flames from the Opera. I thought for sure you were dead. How did you come here? What happened to the girl and her suitor? What is going on? Where is your mask?"
Even as he questioned the sudden appearance of a face from the past, from the rosy hours of the Sultan's court, he did not forget hospitality. He ushered his guest into the sitting room of his modest apartment and lit the samovar to make tea.
"Daroga, I am tired. I am in no mood to explain things tonight."
"What do you want, then?"
"A few favors, for the sake of old times."
The Persian nodded. They had long ago ceased to keep track of the debts they owed each other.
"I will do what I can," Nadir said as he handed his guest a cup of strong hot tea, "What do you need."
"For tonight, a place to sleep. In the morning, I will need to borrow some clothes, a few francs. I will need a carriage, too."
Nadir frowned as he poured a cup of tea for himself.
"Darius will arrange everything for you. Why do you need a carriage? Do you mean to leave the country?"
His guest stared down at the delicate tea cup with its vivid pattern of blue and gold.
"No, Daroga. I am not leaving France. I am going to visit someone. And it is a visit that is long, long overdue."
That night, for the first time, his sleep was free of nightmares.