Hi everyone I'm back. I jsut wanted to thank my failhful reviewers again. You guys keep me writing so a round of appaulse for you. :) Anyway, here is the next chapter.(A/N- I added a little bit in the middle to help avoid a plot hole my BETAer picked up) I own nothing and he chapter title is a lyric from the the musical Les Miserables which I do not own either. I hope you guys enjoy it. :)
Christine shivered as she retraced her steps to the chapel. After a slow, but full breakfast she had been able convince Sister Norah to return to her other duties. It had been almost a week since her arrival and her strength had been steadily returning. Now, alone, her eyes had begun to wander. The late morning wind blew against her face and she watched and listened as it blew through the tall near barren trees. Dried leaves lay spread across the lawn and near the edge of the walkway.
A sense of longing gripped her. It seemed so easy to just step off the path and run into the forest, but something held her back. Though she seemed free to come and go, she was not positive of the rules of going beyond the church walls. Was this just another jail? It was freer, but the sister or Father Garen had not told her what was allowed.
Closing her eyes, she tried to calm her nervous thoughts through song. She opened her eyes and sighed. She could not feel the music. Even remembering music, she felt the coldness of the room where they had forced her in solitude and the tightness of the straightjackets. Why had those people taken the music from her?
Christine shook her head and something caught her eye. The swirl of a dark cloak slid behind a tree. Despite her immediate fear, she knew only one person who lurked around the church grounds.
A tiny wary smile curled at the corners of her lips. Since their first encounter, they had barely seen or spoken to each other. Sister Norah had kept Christine under close watch to see her recover fully. Yet, she had always felt Erik's presence near her, haunting her, but she could not remember the reason. She took a deep breath and stepped off of the path and walked toward the forests' edge.
The wind had died down, leaving an eerie stillness within the woods. Leaves crunched under her feet as she moved over to where she had seen the former Phantom, but did not find him. His own words echoed in her mind as she tried to look for him. The reputation of a ghost had to be earned. She drew her cloak tighter around herself as another shiver ran through her body. What if she had begun to turn crazy like Laralaine claiming that her husband was there? Could that be her if she kept up these games of hide and seek? She sighed and turned to go.
"Was there something you wanted?" A male voice asked from behind her.
Christine froze on the path before she slowly turned around. There the monster…Erik stood between the trees watching her. His scarred side of his face was hidden beneath a piece of cloth with a hole for his right eye. Even with the distance between them, she could see the tension and anger in him, though the reason was unknown. An eerie memory swirled in her mind. This face which earned a mother's fear and loathing. A mask my first unfeeling scrap of clothing.
She shivered, her eyes unable to leave his face. Why must he be made so uncomfortable? She shook her head. No, he is still the monster...that haunts me so. She almost lowered her gaze, but resolved not to. If he was the demon that troubled her, she would not give him the satisfaction of cowering before him.
He cleared his throat. "Is there something you wanted, Mademoiselle?"
Christine paused. "I… you're still here."
Erik took a step forward and repeated his question.
Christine blinked. "I only wanted to know if you were still here or not."
He looked at her skeptically. "Is that all?"
Christine nodded. "Oui, as you can see I'm well on my way to recovery so there is no reason for you to stay."
Erik took a few steps forward. "And why would you assume that I would just leave?"
She paused and averted her gaze. Why had she believed that to be true? Was it that she was now in a church following God's will that she believed herself to be free of her demons? That the Almighty would remove her pain and her demons from her life. Her head snapped up, her eyes fixed on Erik as he walked even closer. Once more, he paused and looked at her. For a moment, she stood still as she gazed into his eyes. His eyes, they were what haunted her so. Those eyes which held such depth had haunted her every night in her dreams. A distant memory crept into her mind as she stared at him.
Yet, in his eyes all the sadness of the world. Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore.
Christine shook her head. No those eyes held no admiration, only pain and sorrow.
Erik shifted a little, his hand hovering over the cloth. "What is it? The sister thought it would be more appropriate to wear this when I see you." His voice held a mocking, bitter quality.
"I…wait. Sister Norah can see you?"
Erik chuckled dryly. "I think you took my reprobation too seriously. I am mortal."
Christine nodded. "Oui, but…we haven't spoken for a week. I thought I was getting better."
"You are, my dear. You needed to make a full recovery. I stayed away so you could do so."
She tightened her grip on her cloak and lowered her eyes. "So what are your plans?"
"What do you mean?"
"Now that I'm getting better, what do you plan to do?"
"I hadn't thought that far ahead. I only wanted to ensure you get help to recover. Though why I am so concerned is beyond me."
Christine felt the blood drain from her face, his words echoing in her mind, reminding her of what the cruel staff members would tell her. She could still feel the harsh instruments the doctors used to help her, or so they said, and she shivered. Their mocking concern ran through her mind. Did everyone think that she was some sick crazy woman? She was recovering, but why was everyone keep telling her otherwise? Tears rimmed her eyes, yet, anger soon overrode her fears as she snapped her head up and glared at the man before her. "Why does everyone insist that I am sick? I'm recovering, but people keep bringing it up and I do…don't want to talk about it. I'm not sick do you understand?"
Erik paused and took another step forward. "I…didn't mean to upset you and I did not mean it like that, but you have been through a lot, or do you deny that?"
Christine sighed and shook her head. It was true she had been through her own version of hell on earth, whether she remembered it completely or not. Looking at him, she felt some of her anger subside into confusion. What was she going to do now? Could she return to Paris and start her new life with Raoul?
After a moment, she took a deep breath. "No, I do not deny it, but what will happen now?"
Erik shook his head. "I am a wanted man. I cannot go back to Paris."
"So, what are your plans?"
Erik paused. "In truth, I don't know, my dear. We must…"
"Christine….what are you doing?" Sister Norah called.
Christine spun around and stared at the nun. Was she really not free to move about as she wished after all? Or was the Sister only concerned for her safety?
She cleared her throat. "I'll be right there."
Christine glanced over her shoulder, but Erik had vanished back into the forest again. She sighed. Erik was certainly a man of mystery. Yet, despite his distant and blunt responses she felt a strange pull to him.
"Are you all right?" Sister Norah began to walk toward her.
Christine turned back to face her. "Oui, I'm fine."
"Well, come away from there. You never know what bandits may be lurking about these woods."
Christine nodded. "Oui. I'm coming."
With one last glance back at the forest, she turned and walked back with Sister Norah toward the church.
At the door, Christine paused and looked at the sister. "Is there something wrong?"
"Oh no, but you must very careful, child, with this horrible war going on."
"I know, but…what war?"
Sister Norah stared at her. "Are you telling me that you do not know?"
Christine shrugged.
"The Germans laid siege to Paris a few weeks ago. The Third Republic is in charge now, at least that is what I hear from others. But if you did not come from the city, how did you end up in such a state when you arrived?"
Christine paused. What could she say? What had the Father and sister been told? She took a deep breath. "I…in truth, Sister, I do not remember much before coming here and the….place where I was staying, the people there told me nothing of such things."
Sister Norah smiled. "Ah, you were very sheltered than."
Christine nodded. In her childhood and the opera house, her life had been very sheltered until she was thrown into a nightmare. Tears rimmed her eyes, but she refused to let them fall and brushed them away.
"My dear what's wrong?" Sister Norah wrapped her arm around Christine's shoulder.
Christine sighed. How could she explain that she needed to see Erik again? What was the strange pull toward him…the man that haunted her dreams? Once more, she glanced back at the row of trees, Erik's words running through her mind. What were his plans? Did they include her? He was so distant when they spoke to each other. Closing her eyes, she remembered another time when they had been so close that their souls had touched each other. Yet, now they were apart in more ways than one.
What has happened between us? She shook her head, already knowing the answer.
A firm hand on her shoulder brought her back. "Is something wrong, child?"
Christine blinked and glanced over at the nun. "Pardon me, Sister, I was just thinking about a few things."
"Such as?"
Christine shrugged. "Just… things."
Sister Norah nodded hesitantly. "And you won't tell me?"
Christine shifted away from her touch and walked back into the church silently. The whole front chamber was being prepared for the approaching Sunday mass. A few apples and newly dropped leaves were arranged on the window sills; the sunlight enhanced the different designs. The stone walls were now covered in tapestries from the bedchamber while the floor and the first few pews had been polished. Around the altar, the proper tools still had to be set up before the service tomorrow. A tiny smile tilted her lips up at the sight. She felt a little apprehensive of seeing more people. The fear and uneasiness of her isolation was overwhelming as she looked around the four stone walls. Closing her eyes, she imagined being outside among the trees. It had been a taste of freedom, but now she was locked back inside the church. Her heart ached, feeling the weight of her situation. Her own words echoed in her mind. I am getting better on my own. She shivered as the words kept rolling around. Was she truly getting better? How could she know that for certain? Shaking her head, she moved and slid into a pew, resting her head on the one in front.
Sister Norah moved over to her. "Child what is wrong? You must tell me." A firm impatience laced her tone as she put her arm around Christine's shoulder.
Christine looked at her. "I think I just need some sleep."
She stood and walked out of the room, down the stairwell, and into the shared bedchamber. Leaning against the door, she sighed deeply. All the old questions circled inside her mind with no answer. Her eyes wandered around the room until they settled on the window, looking over the lawn and into the forest. Her heart ached with a new loneliness and longing. She had felt it earlier outside on the walkway, but now it was stronger. A desire…a fierce need burned inside her as she stared out of the window. The chambers' stone walls seemed to close in on her, the isolation suffocating. Spinning around, she tried to find a way out, but how could she escape from the watchful eye of the sister? Closing her eyes, she tried to push away all the threatening thoughts and actions of the last week. Tears began to roll down her face as she tried in vain to fall asleep.
XxX
Erik paused and looked up from the parchment on his lap, the earlier conversation with the woman he had brought to this place running through his mind. It was still impossible for him to connect his angel to the imposter, and her words haunted him. What were his plans now? Returning to Paris was impossible, but they could not remain in this place forever. The image of Sister Norah's eyes as they looked at him from the pathway came to his mind. Her eyes had been cold as she had escorted Christine back inside. Had he done something wrong? He shook his head and sighed, looking down at the page in front of him.
At least money is not a problem. He rolled up the parchment and stood, moving over to the church. He walked around its perimeter, paused his eyes scanning the building. Despite its solid interior, the outer structure had begun to decay over the years and with the harsh winter conditions in this secluded area of the forest. The priest's fading vision had also allowed the proper, though most were small, repairs to go undone, which had given Erik an opportunity. Father Garen had agreed to pay for repairs and the plans to rebuild. Erik's lips twitched into a smile, the architect in him beginning to awaken. Unrolling the parchment, he continued to sketch on the blueprints. Yet, his mind kept wondering back to Christine. Where could they go? How would they survive? The longer they stayed here, it seemed certain they would be caught soon. He could not let that happen. The weight of all his responsibilities on his shoulders seemed to grow the longer he thought about them. He took a deep breath, rolled up the parchment again, walked over to a side door, and knocked three times.
Sister Norah opened it and stared at him coolly. "What is it you wanted, Monsieur?"
"I have business to attend to with Father Garen."
"What type of business?"
Erik opened his mouth but another voice cut him off. "Ah, there you are. Do you have some news for me?"
Erik looked over the nun and nodded to the old priest. "Oui, if I can just tell you about them."
Father Garen nodded. "Oui, come, come inside."
Erik hesitated. "Would it be too much to ask for you to come outside?"
"Come down to my office instead." Father Garen turned and walked back down the corridor and down a corner.
Taking a deep breath, Erik slid past the nun and followed the Father into a smaller study chamber. A single table and two chairs were set in the center with panel walls filled with books. Dim light flickered about from the lanterns and candles stationed around the room. Erik remembered a similar chamber in one of the caverns of his old home. A second door stood off to the left, almost misplaced with the rest of the chamber As if reading his mind, Father Garen pointed in the vague direction of the door. "There used to be another chamber back there, but it is now just used for storage now."
Erik nodded.
Father Garen cleared his throat, moved over to the table, and looked back in Erik's direction. "Well, shall we get started?"
Erik nodded and then added, "Oui, of course."
Without another word, he spread the parchment across the table and began to paint a picture of grander plans than there were needed. The intricate designs for improvement of the building were laid with detail even to the smallest nail needed. It still amazed him that his skill in designing, even only in his mind, had not faded as his musical intellect had done. A smile curled the corners of his lips as he looked up at the priest and began to explain his design. Every detail was told with care and accuracy of the structural problems of the church. The priest nodded and asked intelligent questions about the process and the hours of labor such a project would demand. Erik was prepared for all of them and found his approval for the old man growing the longer they talked. He wondered what sort of man Father Garen had been in his youth and asked about the books on the shelves behind him.
Father Garen leaned back and nodded. "Yes, I did read all these books when I was but a boy, but sadly it hurts my eyes to even try to read for long stretches of time."
Erik nodded. "Oui, I imagine that must be so."
He walked over and picked up a seamlessly random volume and flipped through it until he found the correct page. A large picture of a breathtaking mountain range stared back at him. In the margin, words had been written and arrows ran across the paper as though someone had been exploring the area. His eyes caught some familiar Spanish words, but something nagged at the back of his mind.
He turned. "Monsieur, where did you come by such a picture? It's an image of a mountain range with arrows and notes along the side."
"Traveling was not part of my life. Where is this mountain range?"
Erik looked down at the page again. "It appears to be the border between France and Spain."
"Ah yes, I remember who gave me that book. It was from a grateful young woman whose grandfather had worked in the mines before they came here. After he passed away, his granddaughter gave his books to me. I believe he and some others were working and apparently were able to find another entrance into the country by accident. The one indicated on the page."
Erik nodded to himself. There was a way to get to Spain through the mountain, using the dark. Inwardly, he chuckled to himself. He had always dreamed of being part of the world, of living in sunlight, but found that he was more comfortable in the darkness. Closing the book, he asked, "May I keep this?"
"Well, I can't read it any longer, so enjoy it. Now let us get back to business. How much would you assume this work would cost?"
Erik paused. From the little he had seen, the priest did not have enough to pay anyone for construction materials and labor. How could the old man pay him? Erik took a deep breath, his gaze wandering around the chamber. He could not let his plans go without any payment at all. After a moment, he looked back at the priest. "Well, I imagine it would take quite a lot, perhaps around four hundred francs."
"I, nor my congregation, have that much to spare."
"I understand, Monsieur, but I will not go unpaid either."
Father Garen nodded and lowered his eyes onto the table. "Oui, of course. Perhaps I could offer you some silver or something else of value that I have like these volumes which you have shown interest."
Erik shook his head. "No, I have no need for such useless things. I need the money."
"But I-"
"Then I cannot help you." He began to roll up the parchment.
Father Garen reached out and gripped Erik's hand. "No, please I…trust me the silver would bring a few pretty francs if you sold them, but please help us."
"How much silver do you have?"
The priest's eyebrows knitted together. "Well, I have candlesticks and communion plates and things of that sort, but I do not believe it would be enough for such grand plans as you have told me."
Erik nodded. "Oui."
He stood up and walked over to another table, staring at the flickering candle flames as they danced and caught the glow of silver beneath them. Despite his promise, he felt a smooth smile slide onto his face. It was true, they had a business arrangement, but the price for such small corrections was less than he had led the Father to believe. The gadje are so gullible, but what is the harm in expanding the truth a little if it will help…
A loud frantic knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. Erik spun around, his hand knocking over the candlesticks. Flames began to spread behind him, memories of that fateful night of his opera raced through his mind. He heard the screams of the victims of the fire and the angry mob coming for him. Were they going to come now? What about Christine…he must find Christine. On instinct, he grabbed another candelabra, turned, and ran to the second door. He felt a shiver go down his spine as he ducked into the storage room just as the opposite door opened, the flow of the nun's habit catching his eye before he closed the door.
His heart quickened as the scent of smoke filled his nose. He ran out of the room and around the perimeter of the church, his eyes searching the yard for Christine. He ran to where they had last met and paused. A few flames were just beginning to rise higher in the late afternoon sky, the smoke darkening it. His eyes grew wide, entranced by the strange beauty. How could the fire spread so quickly? More painful memories ran through his mind, but he shook them away and charged back toward the burning building, calling out for Christine.
The smoke burned his lungs as his eyes squinted against the bright flames. He ripped the cloth mask from his face and pressed it against his mouth and nose as he tried to get back into the building. There was no way inside. Circling the church, he looked for another entrance, and caught sight of the small chapel. Along the path, a slender figure wrapped in a dark cloak crawled toward the separate building. Erik rushed over and knelt beside her. Christine swung her head around, startled at his touch, her large distant eyes locking with his. She coughed and choked from the smoke as Erik removed his cloak and pressed his own cloth to her mouth and nose. She tried to shove the rag away, but he leaned down close to her ear. "Just breathe, you'll be fine."
Christine paused in her fight and blinked, tears rimming her bloodshot eyes. She took a deep breath and pressed the cloth on her face.
Erik nodded and quickly fashioned a self made sack with the cloak, hiding the silver candelabra inside. He glanced back at her. "We have to get out of here. Can you stand?"
She nodded, but did not look at him.
Erik helped her to her feet. She slumped against him before regaining her footing with his arm still wrapped around her shoulders, clutching the sack too. He felt her take a few confidant steps before he was satisfied that she could run. Together they turned and headed into the forest. At the edge, Erik dared a glance back as the church glowed from the orange flames. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the nun and priest running in the opposite direction. He sighed in relief that no harm had come to the kind Father, yet, guilt of his actions ate at him. He gulped and hurried away with Christine into the darkening woods.
XxX
The orange flames and smoke filled the sky as it continued to destroy the church. Yet, the sister was staring off in the direction where the strange couple had disappeared. She shook her head, a sinful hatred welling inside her. The strangers had come here, working for the devil himself: the man with his demon face and false promises and his mad mistress speaking of phantoms and keeping secrets.
They had destroyed the sacred house of the Lord. She listened silently as Father Garen told her of the conversation and what had occurred in his study. The deranged strangers had put both her and Father Garen's life at risk, and had stolen. Closing her eyes, she made a silent vow to the Almighty Father. Both of the strangers would pay for their crimes.
So what will happen to our favoriate pair now? Well review and you'll see soon. :) As to Christine in the chapter she is still recovering from the affecs and what happened to her so she is still a little out of it in a sense, but I hope that it made sense. And I hope you enjoyed it.
