28

Katrina's ninth birthday had passed, though with a larger gathering of family than ever before. Marie, Jacques, Madame D'Arcy, Erik and Helen were all there. Madame had insisted on hosting it for her 'first grandchild' and her dining room was full of more laughter and conversation than it had seen in many a year.

Jacques found Erik intimidating, but easy enough to visit with after the third glass of wine. The Phantom's knowledge of music alone was intriguing, but his comprehension of architecture, the visual arts, and certain investments proved just as fascinating.

Christmas was housed at Jacques and Marie's new home, with even less tension than at Madame's house. It was, perhaps, more disconcerting for Erik than the others. It had been several decades since he had walked before a group without his mask or muffler.

Around ten o'clock, Katrina dragged Erik to the piano, and the group at large drifted over at the sound of familiar carols.

Jacques and Madame could not sing, but it was a loud and pleasant choir. Overall, Erik would later admit to Helen, it was not so painful an experience.

The standing joke then was that New Year's would be celebrated at Erik's home. The Masquerade would ensure that.

Madame had sent an invitation to the Lefevre's to join her in seeing the performance before masquerade night. It was a gesture to repay them all their hospitality over the past six months. They gladly accepted, and spent the day with her.

Katrina spotted them from box five, just as the lights dimmed. It was a ballet that night, performed well. Erik had nothing to complain of, and Helen wouldn't, even if she had.

During intermission, Katrina went to greet Madame, and passed Stephan talking in a hushed and desperate voice to another man. She paused enough to hear the words 'loan', 'trouble', and 'he's angry'. The other man was apparently a friend warning him of something.

She was walking back to box five, and found Stephan in a corner, looking ill. Approaching slowly, she asked, "Are you in trouble, Monsieur Stephan?"

He smiled sardonically. "I can't seem to get out of it." Seeing the look on her face he softened. "Don't worry; I'll finish with it tonight. Don't say anything to Mama or Papa, eh?" and with that he walked away.

Katrina did worry, and found a convenient chance to follow him to the dark side near where they entered to go to the lake. It was icy there, as when Madame had fallen the year before, but that seemed to only serve the purpose of the men gathered there and waiting on Stephan.

A few comments were exchanged, and they suddenly grabbed young Lefevre and began to beat him.

During a pause, he cried out brokenly, "I have paid you all, and half again as much. That we agreed!"

"That was before you came into your inheritance, again, Lefevre." The leader spat. "You can pay the rest of the interest now."

"The money is all I have earned, and none of my parents. I can pay no more."

Katrina didn't wait to hear more, but ran back to the lights and found Helen talking to her mother and the Lefevres. The young man who had warned him before was hovering near, though not in, the group. She gripped his arm, shocking him into nearly dropping his cup. "Monsieur, Stephan is being beaten outside; you must go to him while I fetch help!"

The man went pale, and tried to pull away from her. "Ah, I warned him, which was all I could do. I do not wish to die myself. Besides, you may be a street urchin trying to lure me out to them for pay. No, no, I'll not budge."

"Coward!" Katrina cried, knowing he was worse than useless. "You monster, coward, wretch! To leave a friend in need. Coward!"

And without looking back, she flew up the stairs to Box five. Erik was watching the crowd below without interest as she burst in. Throwing herself at him, she managed to spill her story before her breath ran out. He snatched up his hat and cape without a pause, opened the door in the pillar and led her through a passage she had never used before. It opened to the street, and they went around the corner to the Rue Scribe side.

The men had Stephan against the wall, standing on a patch of ice so that he could not gain footing. He was bleeding, and clearly in pain. He was shaking his head, and croaked out, "Not a franc will I beg of them. I have given you all, and have nothing more. Nothing."

They began to pound him again, with more and more force. If they had hurled insults or curses, it would have been less frightening. Yet, not a sound was made other than feet and fists striking Lefevre's body.

"Enough!"

Erik's voice boomed, full of rage and command. They all turned, surprised that anyone would dare to halt their work. The lean man walked right up to the ice, and stood, a darker shadow within the gloom. "You have exacted your price in blood. Go on your way, and I'll overlook your activities on my doorstep."

The leader moved towards this fool who dared oppose him, and smirked. "This is a private matter. You and the girl, go on your way, and this will not involve you."

Stephan tried to move upon seeing Katrina there, resolute beside her Uncle. "No! You weaklings would not hurt a child! Not a girl!"

The foreman, however, only laughed. "Not if the girl and the man go away politely." He eyed Katrina viscously. "If they stay, I can't promise."

Erik's voice was low and thrilling in a horrible way. "That was the wrong thing to say."

Without warning, he gripped the man's coat by the front, lifting him off the ice and tossing him into the street where he lay still. Charging forward, he struck anyone who stood in his way, and generally sent them spinning into the gutter. Katrina had pulled out her pistol, and stood ready to shoot should a foolish person attempt to assault her.

Erik reached Stephan, dispatched the last man, and carried him off the ice. The leader and several of the fellows had stumbled back into some semblance of order, and they faced the stranger, now furious.

"You don't know what you have done, O Nobleman. You shall pay in blood, even if the girl won't."

"I am not noble." Standing, Erik faced them and drew off his hat dramatically. "Nor, am I a man."

Their faces paled and fell, many rushing to leave, or falling to their knees, praying for forgiveness, sure the devil had come to claim their souls. In the end, they all fled, shouting, down the street. Erik's insane laughter followed them far into the darkness.

Katrina sat beside Stephan, watching without comment, or change of expression. When her uncle turned again, his hat was on, and he was quite calm. "Go before me, Katrina, and open the doors. We shall have to come out in the old parlor room."

She leapt to obey, and Stephan began to wonder if he had indeed died, and was being carried to his judgment. They emerged into a disused room, with a couch, chairs and a long, low table. Setting his burden down, the man straightened and turned to Katrina. "The doctor will still be out there. Go get him, quickly." She hurried to obey.

"Thank you," Stephan managed, but it hurt to breath, to speak, to look at anything. He let himself go limp, and felt an involuntary laugh come from his lips. "We all get our dues in the end, don't we?"

"It is not the end yet. Not for you." The voice said evenly. "Katrina fetched me in time; you shall live to make up whatever mistakes you've made."

The young man shook his head slightly. "Not all my mistakes. Some of the people I owe are dead, and I shall have to content myself with the living."

Bowing his head, the stranger sighed. "And live with the knowledge of what might have been. Yes, that will be penance enough. Be sure not to add to it."

"You sound like you know."

"I should."

Stephan let out a painful laugh again. "Katrina…she doesn't back away from anything. I told her not to worry…I didn't want her to have a part in this…she shouldn't have followed."

It was the thin man's turn to laugh. "Katrina is like her mother. I have yet to hide a true crisis from her. The doctor is here, and I must go. Good evening." And with that, he vanished as a small party walked in.

The doctor, his parents, Katrina, and a policeman who wished to get the names of the attackers. Stephan gave his statement, the policeman left. Jean Lefevre looked mutely at him, knowing an explanation was not to be asked for at this time. Sophie leaned against her husband, unsure of what to help with, but unwilling to leave her son. As the doctor began cleaning the blood away, Stephan turned to Katrina and held out his hand. She went forward and took it.

"I thank you, for getting your uncle. I should be dead if not for him."

"Yes," She agreed, eyeing the blood and bruises.

"It was brave of you, to fetch help, and stay by while he fought for me. Thank you." She nodded, and catching a look from the doctor, went out silently.

The performance had started again, but Erik was waiting for her near the stairs. He took her hand, and lead her back to the house on the lake. After they got there, he sat at the table, and she joined him.

"Helen said he was a Lefevre." Katrina nodded, and he continued. "They are the family Madame and the sisters have befriended? Yes? You will have befriended them too, I suppose."

"Should I not?"

"No, they are decent people. I only wanted to know. What is Stephan doing back?"

She did not catch the wary note in his voice, and answered instantly. "He wanted to be home and find steady work. I didn't know about the debts, but that is probably why."

"No doubt. What else was said?"

Katrina remembered the confession in the music room, and told Erik of it, about the grief of the Lefevres at the loss of their children, and the hope in having their one child return.

She waited, her great brown eyes searching his yellow face, but she only found agitation there. He stood, leaving her and locked himself in his own music chamber. The music began a few moments after, and when Helen returned she found a much worried Katrina at the hearth, arms around Tomino.

"What happened?" Helen asked. The girl shook her head.

"He asked about the Lefevres and I told him. About their dead children, and Stephan, and what I heard. He just went in there, and started playing. I've never heard this music before, Aunt Helen, I don't like it."

She was weeping, pale, and shaking. Tomino was in terrible shape himself. Helen faced the door, listening to the furious notes, and the flurry of emotion. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before. It was, she thought, a sound one might become too dependent upon.

Walking forward, Helen pounded on the door, and the music halted. "Erik, let me in." There was only silence. "Let me in this instant! If you won't stop playing, tell me and I'll take Katrina to Mama's, but I won't have her scared by this. Open up, Erik!"

After a moment, the door opened, and Helen entered. Katrina could hear hushed voices, and few sound of surprise or sympathy from Helen. This continues for about twenty minutes, and then the Phantom's wife emerged, somber ad thoughtful.

"Come, Katrina, I'll tuck you in tonight. There will be no more music until morning."

The child didn't dare to ask what had been said, though she wished she could. Yet, she remembered all too vividly the tale of Pandora's Box, and knew some containers were best left shut until the proper hand would unlatch them.