A/N: Since this is a short chapter...and very Jules Vernesque...there will be the next chapter posted on Sunday.
Chapter Thirty-five: Doorways
"Come here, Mirielle." Erik guided her to the sofa. Sitting her down, he offered her his handkerchief to wipe her tears with.
"You aren't ill?" she sniffed.
"No, sweet girl, that coffin has nothing to do with my immanent demise. It actually was a prop used during my time with the traveling fair."
They sat together on the sofa, she leaning against his shoulder, Erik stroking her arm with his hand. He paused the story once to glance at her. "Are you hungry? I could fix you an omelet."
She smiled. "I'll cook, you keep talking."
Together they grated cheese and chopped tomatoes, dropping them into the pan for Erik to stir as Mirielle giggled at part of his story. She poured the tea and toasted the bread. They sat at Erik's small kitchen table eating by candlelight. He'd brought his robe out to put around her shoulders, for she grew chill.
They retired to the sofa again. He talked softly in the darkness as the flames in the fireplace flickered. "We should stop for now," he told her. "We need to get you home."
She borrowed closer to him. "I don't have to be to work until noon tomorrow." Her dark eyes lifted slowly. "I can sleep late."
Despite the emotional upheavals of the day, Erik felt an energizing hum along his nerve endings. "My God woman, you are a shameless flirt," he felt himself smile lazily.
"Only because it gives you such delight." She patted his vest, where her hand rested. "I'll be right back." With a saucy wink, she got up and strolled down the hall to the water closet.
Erik crossed his hands over his stomach and lay back on the sofa. Laying there thinking, he wondered what had possessed him to take her to the roof and show her the church. Everything he had done or thought seemed to melt away, leaving one bright clear spot of sunlight pointing to La Madeline, and Mirielle.
And what better way to end the day with a light supper, a pleasant fire, and a willing woman.
Erik sat up abruptly as a set of his warning bells began to toll.
Going back along the corridor inch by inch, Queval found the globe. On his hands and knees, he muttered softly as he pushed the device before him on the floor, holding a lamp aloft. "Somewhere. Somewhere. Oh, Alexander, help me! I must regain my crystal."
From behind him, he felt the air stir. Glancing at the globe, the leaves fluttered to life. Sitting down on the floor, the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. "I lost my crystal. I'm sorry to bother you, but it is quite rare. My device will not work without it."
A sound like a sigh came to him on the currents of air. Something flitted by quickly at the periphery of his lantern. Turning to peer at the edge of darkness around him, a voice whispered, "You have strayed too far."
Queval checked the leaves again, they moved in a circle around the globe. "Amazing," he gaped. "I-I'm sorry. I only wanted the chance to see if my device worked." Only the echoes of his voice came to him.
The voice was silent for so long Queval thought it might have retreated, but was startled as it whispered closer to his ear. "What did you hope to find?"
Queval pulled out the device Erik had seen, opening the cover and holding it in the light. "The crystal focuses the fields. I found out through a medium friend of mine that spirits have a certain aura. I had hoped to learn to detect that energy."
When there was no reply he continued, "You see everything is composed of energy." He touched the bricks on the floor and then himself. "Everything has been brought into existence because something else gave up its energy as it transmuted states. We believe…"
"We?" the voice rasped.
"My colleagues and I. We've been hoping to be able to track this energy."
"Why?"
"Because we have found that there is the possibility of alternate realities. Think of it, other worlds, and other lifetimes running parallel with our own."
There was a sound, a soft scrapping and Queval could almost feel the Ghost's breath near his face. "And what will you do with this knowledge?"
Queval stilled. "You probably won't believe me."
"You are talking to a Ghost. Go on," the voice encouraged.
"I have had a dream ever since I was a young man. I see a woman and three children standing at a garden gate. As I approach, the children wave excitedly calling 'Papa!'." The crushing emptiness he experienced came out in his voice. " I have never married."
Erik waited in the shadows at the fringe of the lantern's light. He understood fully the longing that the man's voice held.
Queval glanced up as the leaves stopped moving and pointed into the dark. A pair of glowing amber eyes looked down upon him. Like an animal before a predator, her froze. Superstitious fear scrabbled at the back of his mind. As he waited, a hand floated towards him. The long fingers uncurled, revealing the crystal.
Taking it carefully, he dropped it into the center of the The Paradynamic Field Lumiflector. It bobbed for a moment, and then turned to point towards the lake. "May I?" he asked looking up at the faceless man who materialized out of the darkness.
The Ghost extended a hand towards the lake. "Bon chance, Monsieur."
Queval's figure walked to the edge of the quay, a curious blue light danced along the edges of his form. He seemed to turn thinner and transparent as his feet touched the water's surface. There was one small flash of white light, and he was gone.
A sharp metallic clink made Erik move to the edge of the water. Just at the edge of the surface on a rock lay the device sans crystal. He reached down and scooped it out, balancing it on his fingers.
He'd take it home and put it on his bookshelf. Someday, its owner might need it back.
Checking his watch, Erik pushed open his front door and looked about the parlor. Candles sat glowing upon the mantel and the tables. His robe lay on the sofa. Walking into the room, he saw Mirielle standing at the opening of the hall.
She glowed. Her dark hair caressed her face, and her eyes reflected the flickering lights that traced the dark surface of the harim costume over her body.
His mouth went dry as he took in the soft material caressing her softer, warmer flesh. The curves and hollows of her body were touched with light and shadow. She walked towards him, the costume's silken material gliding over her.
"Do you like it?" she asked in a breathy voice.
"You know I do," Erik replied. His hands lifted, wanting to touch everything.
Queval and his friends are the forerunners of modern researchers in Quantum physics. For your own journey to alternate worlds, see the information on the Obscure Passage from the Garnier Opera by typing in Garnier Opera and that info. Fanfic won't allow adresses on the chapter pages. It's an interesting idea...and would explain how Erik was free to travel unseen.