Chapter 21

Mechanically, I closed my watch and slid it back into my vest pocket. Rapidly the first concert of the afternoon was approaching as I haunted the upper hallways of the Music Hall. Below me, in a bustling mass of humanity, gathered patrons and performers alike. I had no desire to be amongst them. Two years I had spent planning and building this temple of music. Over the past four days I had stood upon this stage … my soul raw and unrestrained before them. Each time, they had given us a standing ovation. Inside, I had felt the thrill and the honor of their lavish praise, but I was being eaten alive, unsatisfied. There was a longing deep within that even my opium had failed to satiate. I was not ignorant to the source of my pain. For each of those four concerts, she stood across from me on the stage. Foolishly, I had led myself to the absurd belief that fate might have gifted me with a second chance at love. I should have known better. The world never had smiled upon me for long. No one had.

"Erik, are you listening to me?" I barely glanced over my shoulder to see Damrosch panting as he tried to close the distance. "I have been looking everywhere for you! For heaven's sake, would you just stop for a moment! I need your opinion."

"Why would you care what I have to say?" I muttered. "Why would anyone care?"

Coming to my side, Damrosch narrowed his eyes. "I value your counsel, I always have. I should think, with how well your performances have gone over, you would be thrilled. It's a little more than I can say to the reception from the reporters of my conducting."

With a shrug, I continued on my aimless way as Damrosch stubbornly clung at my shoulder. "You should not be reading the reviews until the concerts are over."

"But I have been reading them," he protested. "Erik, the tempos, they say I am pushing the time too swiftly. The Symphony Society is marching over the pieces with a … with a … "

Studying my fingernails idly, I quoted one such review for him. "'With a monotonous double forte.' Not that the reporter used it correctly."

He pressed a finger against my shoulder, "So you have read them."

"Of course I have, and I find their reviews rather tedious and un-noteworthy." Beside me, Damrosch was attempting to halt my aimless progress through the halls and his persistence was getting aggravating. "They know nothing of music, Damrosch. Ignore them and just conduct as you will."

Striding in front of me, he blocked my path as I glared down at him. "Did you think the tempos were rushed? Erik—please! You know music. I have to know what you thought."

Taking a deep breath to dull the edge off my temper, I shook my head. "Your spirited conducting is fine, Damrosch. The public is simply more accustomed to hearing the pieces dragging due to being under-tempo rather than at the proper one. Why do you persist in doubting yourself? The festival is a grand success regardless of those uneducated ramblings of foolish critics."

He cracked a slight smile. "I knew you would understand. I just knew it." As he basked in the glow of that which was not truly intended to be a complement, I slid past him to continue on my aimless quest. "Erik, wait. I have another question for you if you don't mind."

"I do mind." I retorted over my shoulder as he came to my side once more.

Ignoring my warning, he continued. "There's something about your performance with Christine these last days. I mean, the one on the second night left everyone in awe. Especially when the lights went out and you two … well, I know the song was over, but no one could take their eyes off you."

I rolled my eyes, markedly speeding up my pace, only to find Damrosch stubbornly keeping up.

"It hasn't gone unnoticed that things changed after that night." His eyes were studying me closer even as we walked on. "In these last two performances you revealed a marked distance between you two. Why?"

I fought to keep my voice level and emotionless. "I do not wish to talk about it, Damrosch."

"Erik, even though the audience hasn't seemed to notice the lack of emotion we—"

I cut him off with a slice of my hand. "Enough! You have a concert to direct. Now, leave me alone." Not waiting for a reply, I continued my brooding leaving him where he stood. My dress sword's hilt provided an adequate rest for my right arm. So, the others had noted things were different between us. How could they not? Carnegie, why had you requested this of me?

I sat down on a secluded staircase and let my turbulent thoughts wander. I had not wanted to stand on the stage for all the world to see. It had never been my desire to revisit those days and reopen the old wounds that had tormented me so. For whatever reason, fate often decided that life for me never came without considerable pain. Once more, here I was, gutted by the unrelenting knife of desire and left to bleed alone. This had not been Carnegie's doing, all he had seen was a talent he wanted to share with the world. There was no way even his foresight could have seen the tragic consequences of his request. Of course, all this could have been avoided had I possessed sense enough to have locked away any semblance of the score Forbidden. Had Christine never heard the nightingale sing, she may never have been provided the opportunity to rend my heart in two. Footsteps echoed from below me, edging up the stairs.

"Damrosch, shouldn't you be directing right now?" I snapped with my head resting in my hand.

"He is." Her timid voice echoed up as she clung to the lowest step of the flight below.

Glancing between my fingers, I confirmed my ears had not lied to me. There Christine stood, awash in shame. Her eyes downcast before her, she could not bring herself to look at me. "So, you have decided to speak to me once more?"

Her fingers idly played on the railing in a series of patterns. "I didn't realize … " she began haltingly. "How much it hurt you the other afternoon when I turned away from you … until yesterday evening when you did it to me. I didn't mean to hurt you, Erik. It's just that, well, I overreacted to what you asked of me."

Leaning back against the wall at the top of the stairs where I sat, I heaved a sigh. "I should say you did, my dear. Hardly was that a request for isolation."

She took a single step, hovering hesitantly. "Will you forgive me, my love? This is not how I wish things to remain."

"Nor how I wish them to. However," I held up a finger to make my point, "your actions did rather torture me these last nights. Am I just to overlook such a transgression?"

"Please." Her eyes pleaded up to mine as she took a few more steps. "Erik, my Angel of Music, I beg you to forgive me! I didn't know how to react to your request and I am truly sorry."

Curse my heart. She was near to crying as I reached a hand down the stairs and drew her towards me. Her small frame huddled in my arms. "I could never stay angry with you for long." So close to me once more, in reach and nestled in my arms of her own accord, her heart belonged to me. Yet, I doubted whether I could keep her, even despite my adoration. Casting my eyes to the ceiling, I could not deny that fate had been horrendously tiresome in playing tricks upon me of late.

I felt a slight tremble through her frame. "Then … you were angry with me."

"My love." Gentle fingers turned her chin to meet my eyes as I gazed down upon her. "Though I am loath to confess it, your actions hurt me. I was not angry so much as distraught over the misunderstanding."

Resting her hand on mine, she pressed towards me. "I need to hear you say I am forgiven, Erik. Please. I did not mean such an infliction."

There was no denying her anything. "You are forgiven." I added, "On the condition that, with these last two concerts today, we give this audience something to remember."

Resting both her hands on my leg, she blinked up at me. "You have something in mind."

I chuckled. "For this afternoon my dear, just let your true emotions rule the performance. This evening," I shifted my eyes to the side, "I have something in mind." It would require fetching that single rose from my rooftop between concerts. There would not be time before our performance this afternoon. In fact, taking out my watch I was surprised to see how swiftly time had gotten away from us! "Christine, speaking of our performance, we have quite a few floors to climb down to reach the wing on time for our cue. Time is rather short. Shall we?" Taking my hand, she stood beside me as we made our way down the steps.

Attempting to capture a sense of normal conversation, she remarked. "Charles is beside himself with excitement to see us perform this evening. He told me Nadir would be accompanying him to the Hall."

"Hopefully the two will not be creating too much trouble." I offered back.

"Of late I have seen less of Nadir. Since the concerts began he has been difficult to find, even around the house."

"It is Nadir." I opened the door for her to enter the main floor before me. "He has a will all his own and, as much as he belly aches over how moody I can be, there is no denying he moans louder when provoked. Undoubtedly he has been keeping to himself these last days."

"It's a shame, I enjoyed conversing with him." Shifting by the stage wing, I listened long enough to discern that Damrosch was almost at the end of the tribute to Wagner's Parsifal. We had but a short time through the other solos to warm up in the dressing room.

"I am sure you two had much to discuss." My tone was a little harsher than I had intended as we entered the dressing room where my violin waited. I tested the tuning with a quick series of notes.

Christine drew her fingers across the table nervously. "We have spoken, many times."

"I know." Flicking the bow towards her I retorted. "If you think they were all un-witnessed, you are sadly mistaken."

"You were listening?"

I nodded, my eyes peering over the bridge of the violin. "It is my house, after all. Neither one of you is known for being terribly quiet when you speak. It should be mentioned that, it is most courteous to keep one's voice down when speaking behind the back of the master of the house."

"Oh … " Losing a little color to her face, she brought her hands together before her. "I didn't know what to do, Erik. Nadir was concerned you had been dealing with too much lately. And I had no idea how to tell you about Raoul's betrayals."

Lowering the violin, I set the end upon my leg. "Simple my dear, just honor me enough to tell me. How should I be able to help you without the knowledge of what he has done, and clearly he has committed some heinous crimes of the heart to earn such treatment."

Taking the seat before the mirror she nodded as her hands toyed with the ruffle on her dress. "You are no fool, my Angel. His reckless behavior is written throughout our lives. Earning the scorn of his family, Raoul's gambling and drinking resulted in a lost fortune. Eventually his elder brother cut off his money entirely after Raoul's investments failed. I was forbidden from, what he called, the frivolity of the stage, no matter how oft I snuck out to audition. Raoul eventually learned of it and oh the fights that followed … " She visibly trembled as her memories took her back. "At first it was only words. But in time, after his deeds required the forth relocation of our apartments in Paris, he had returned for the first time reeking of that smoke. Opium. I had not known what it was, only that it stole him from his bed for more nights than not. The words grew more heated, the actions more directed, I tried in vain to hide it from Charles. Our coming to these shores had nothing to do with my invitation to sing here. I had concealed that from him. We came because he wished to explore an investment, and yet all he has done is gamble away the remainder of our money." Her eyes locked with mine. Even across the room I saw her desperate plea. "Erik, I cannot go back to Raoul. I do not care what that golden shackle signifies. I refuse to suffer at his hands any longer."

I could not move. My hand gripped the neck of my violin with a slight tremor as I examined her words. Through clenched teeth, I inquired. "He not only humiliated you, he struck you did he not? The bruise on your neck after the party was hardly the first."

There were no words in reply, only the lowering of her head in shame.

"No." I shook my head, setting the violin aside I strode purposefully across the room and forced her to look up at me. "No, you do not downcast your eyes for the sake of that insolent boy! What he has done to you … these eyes are not to seek the floor in dishonor that belongs to no one but him!" Cradling her jawline, I caught and held her sad gaze forcefully. "Fate has a terrible sense of humor, my dear, that it should make a monster out the man destined to keep you from one."

"Erik, you are not a monster." She whispered back. "When will you see you are my salvation?"

I shuddered at her words, fighting to find some reply, when a knock issued from the door. "Monsieur Erik and Madame Daae, are you in there?"

"Yes." I replied firmly.

The voice continued. "It's nearly your cue. Is everything alright? Normally you are already waiting."

"We shall be there in a moment." I called out before turning to Christine with a whisper. "Push those thoughts out of your mind, my dear. Not another moments thought. Tomorrow morning, we will sit down and figure out what the future holds. Alright? For now it is just the rose and the nightingale stealing a forbidden moment in the garden. Come." I stood and beckoned her with my hand.

Gracefully she came into my embrace, soft and warm. "I love you, Erik."

"And I cannot live without you, my Angel of Music." I smiled down upon her before taking the violin back into my hands. "Shall we?"

From the moment the light flooded on me, I felt the overwhelming surge of power flow through my veins. Across the stage, she stood framed by the glow of the limelight, her eyes watching me half-lidded in anticipation. We were commanding that stage before a single note came to life. The wings of her nightingale carried across the stage to her rescue, the rose's innocent heart beating in time as she accepted her dismal situation and recognized the chance for another, less constrained view of the world. This afternoon the lyrics bore so much more meaning for us than ever before. At the end of the song, her head bowed and her arms embraced me tightly where I knelt. As I lifted the bow from the strings, I let my head fall onto hers and we simply remained, feeling each other breathing, vital and alive once more.

Rising to our feet to be greeted with our fifth standing ovation, we bowed off the stage hand in hand. Once behind the wing door I smiled to her breathlessly. "That was better, much better."

Damrosch was applauding amidst a number of musicians, "Better? Erik that was sublime!"

Sliding my arm from Christine I let my cloak glide across her shoulders, as I replied to Damrosch. "If you think this one was grand, wait for tonight when the real magic begins." I took a quick glance at his pocket watch before returning it to him. "Time will pass swiftly before the evening's concert. Christine you should prepare Charles for the event. Meanwhile, I have a little trick to arrange."

"Magic?" Damrosch turned his head in confusion. "What are you planning?"

Letting the cloak flow about me as I turned on a heel, I chuckled. "Patience, Damrosch, patience."

I had a rose to clip from my garden. The very last bloom I possessed. It was by sheer luck that it turned out to be a white one, petals spread in a glorious crown atop a deep green stem. With the long stem in hand, I studied the rose before my eyes for sometime, contemplating the illusion I had in mind before the subtle details worked themselves out. It would be an elegant touch to the stage, and the work of but a short hour in my laboratory with a simple vase of clay to hide the illusion.

"Are you ready?" Nadir stood outside the door to my laboratory just as I adjusted the finishing touch, placing the vase in a small crate to keep the delicate bloom safe for the journey to the hall.

"For the finale, of course I am."

"Charles is nearly climbing the walls in anticipation, he has been the whole time, waiting to hear his mother sing."

Picking up my cloak, I swung it over my shoulders before grabbing the crate to follow him down the hall. "Is it any wonder the boy should? After all, she is spellbinding when she sings."

He eyed me with a shake of his head. "It has been no small task tending the boy while you two have been off making music together."

Placing a hand on his shoulder, I gave it a little squeeze. "And you have been remarkable at fulfilling that task. Enjoy tonight, my friend. See what has been occupying my time."

At the bottom of the stairs, Christine stood beside Charles who was positively bouncing on his heels and chattering so rapidly that the words ran into one another. It seemed that she had given up some time ago on even attempting to unstring them. Outside, in the growing evening air, the boy's chatter accompanied us every step of the way, even into the lobby of the hall itself where we parted ways. I almost felt sorry for Nadir who had likely grown accustomed to my more taciturn ways. Hopefully, young Charles would hold his tongue for the concert.

All about the hall there pervaded a feeling of excited finality. This was it! Soon would begin the last concert of the festival. Even I was not immune. I lingered on the edge with Christine hanging from my arm as we watched the societies take the stage for the performance of Handel's Israel in Egypt. Note for note, we savored the performance from our vantage point behind the wing. This time there would be no other solos before us. After the societies finished, came our cue. My eyes turned to Christine as she applauded the performers exiting the stage. It was our last time, and I was going to make this count.

Lingering in the wing for the briefest moment, we left the stage bare and with sufficient time to build up the suspense before I gestured for her to take the stage before me. Gliding by the piano without any untoward motions, I deposited the vase with the insignificant white rose upon the edge before taking my place.

This time, when I let the bow fly across the strings, I let a whole new strain fly into the counter melody, trickier by far than what I had demonstrated before. My voice launched into the lyrics, reaching out for the heart I already secretly possessed. But I let that heart know without a doubt that she was where she belonged. The voice that answered was no less telling. Soaring, leaping, yearning to fulfill our passionate pleas, more than our voices entwined beneath the glare of the limelights. This night was ours for the taking, come what may! Just as the nightingale I portrayed, I threw caution to the wind. I pursued my desire regardless of fate's treacherous game. Love may be forbidden to the likes of me, but I was a renowned thief! I would steal it before the eyes of God if I was left no other choice.

My voice joined hers in the final verse as I poured every ounce of my soul into the words.

The purest rose to bloom

Stained by love's true wound

Of the nightingale's strain.

Over my shoulder, I knew in the vase the snow white rose was rapidly turning a brilliant red as if by sheer magic, the petals began to bleed crimson into their flesh under the light. By the time Christine's mournful voice reached the final words …

Of the love that consumed

Displayed in the memory of the red rose.

… all memory of the white petals had been erased and the rose appeared to have always been red. When I climbed to my feet to the applause, laying my violin on the piano, I simply plucked the long stem from the vase and presented it to Christine with a bow. As she studied the bloom in wonder, I smiled down waiting for her to turn her eyes once more up to me. It seemed like time stood still until at long last her angelic gaze met mine. The heat of the lights still upon us, I wrapped my arms tightly around her and pulled her up into my embrace. Both our eyes closed as I kissed her long and full. She did not draw away, but instead pulled me down into her, closer and tighter. Warm and safe, made whole by the embrace, we were two broken spirits rekindled by the fire of music.

And now—the world knew.

When at last we withdrew to gaze into each other's eyes, there was no way of knowing how long it had been. Our fingers interlocked as we walked hand in hand from the stage. Nothing else existed for us. Striding past the slackened jaws of the other musicians, we proceeded through the hall to the foyer where the throngs of patrons awaited for the grand after party.

Sliding off to the side, Christine and I found refuge amidst the bustling crowd of the upper lobby around her statue. Patron after patron hounded us to congratulate our performance and inquire about the trick with the rose, which Christine showed them was nothing more than a normal flower. A rose that now was thoroughly stained deep crimson red. Leaning back against the stone wall, we watched the crowd mingling with hardly time for a word between us. Charles ran through the crowd with Nadir fighting to stay at his heels. "Mother! Mother! You were wonderful. Your voice is so pretty. You should sing more."

I laughed as she blushed in the embrace of her young son … our son. "Yes, Christine. You should sing more."

"And what of you, Maestro Erik?" She grinned at me. "Will you stand before the lights and grace the world with your talents as well?"

"You should!" Charles climbed out of his mother's arms to spring up upon me. Fortunately I saw him coming and caught him. "You play very well! Can I learn how to do that?"

"With practice." I replied. "It is certainly not something that just happens."

"Erik!" Damrosch called out from across the lobby, "Come over here for a moment."

I leaned over and gave Christine a fond kiss. "I shall be right back, my dear."

The tightly packed crowd closed in behind me as I approached Damrosch and his company. Several of the violinists from the symphony gazed at me in awe. "Erik, that was a Stradivarius you play, right?"

"Yes, of course. I've had it for a number of decades now. Amazing instrument."

Adam Wallbeck, the violinist beside me remarked, "Of course, if it is a Stradivari original, it should be."

Another tried to whisper but was overheard. "That's why he sounded so good, it was the instrument more than anything else."

"Nonsense." I replied tersely. "A good instrument will never save a bad performer. The music that pours forth comes from within the musician, the instrument is but a vessel to deliver it."

"So a good musician could bring forth an excellent performance from a poor instrument?" Wallbeck eyed the whisperer and I could tell now that I had been brought to quell an argument.

I laughed. "Provided it can hold its tuning properly, yes. Regardless, it can only amplify what is produced upon it. Even the most basic student of music should have learned that much."

Damrosch placed a hand on my shoulder and began to laugh. "Erik, I want you to direct the societies for a day please. The lessons you would teach them!"

I rolled my eyes, turning to reply, when a shout caught my ear. Towards the window, a commotion triggered a split in the crowd. Framed by the darkened arch of the window beside the statue where I left her, I saw Christine bent over holding the side of her face. Above her stood Raoul, his hand drawn back to strike her again, wide eyes blazing with anger and his lips drawn back in a sneer.

"What have you to say for yourself, you whore?" He shouted.

His hand was in motion—but not before I was. With a scream of rage, I tore across the floor, the cloak's edges stretching out like great wings as I poured every ounce of my weight into tearing him away from her! His eyes caught sight of me only in enough time to take one step in bracing himself before my shoulder hit him square in the rib cage, sending him and the statue with an immense crash through the upper window. Unfortunately, the momentum that ensured I reached her side in time also meant I could not stop myself before gravity won! I never wished more my cloak to have been actual wings.

Amidst the crash of the glass, I heard Charles's frantic scream from above. "Father!"