Enjoy!

Erik

Chapter 60

The Revelation

It had become clear to both Nadir and Franklin that Grace and Reza, though far apart in age, nonetheless enjoyed having another child to interact with. Add a baby to the mix, and Grace was begging to spend the day with both Reza and Dilara. The two men consulted Ibrahim - someone that Franklin trusted, after having received a generous donation from him and learning that he was very good friends with both Christine and me - who allowed the children all to visit. He'd be away from the apartment, anyway. Nadir and Azizah would watch them.

Yes, Reza had tutors, but with the introduction of Azizah and Dilara, with Nadir wanting to bring his child along to make Azizah feel more comfortable, he was only participating in schooling one or two days a week for a few hours. It would pick up more in the autumn. Franklin, on the other hand, was waiting outright until the new year for Grace to attend school. A single day at a friend's house was one thing. Every weekday away from him was quite another.

So, for today, it was only Franklin and me in the theatre office.

"First, before I forget." Franklin went around his desk to the first drawer on the right. He pulled out an envelope, then went back around to where I sat. He handed it to me, and I took it. I had my name on it, with a red wax seal.

"What's this?"

"Another invitation to a party from Comte de Chagny. You've only grown in popularity, so he wants to extend another request to you, as well as your wife and father-in-law, to visit his home. He's giving you more than a day this time to prepare for the event." He smiled. "I will be attending as well. A postman delivered these this morning to the theatre."

"Hm." Somehow, the idea of it didn't seem so daunting. The very fact that people liked me here, rather than feared me, made it something tolerable. Yes, I knew it was the Phantom that they liked. But even still.

"The other matter I had hoped to discuss-" he continued, sitting at his desk across from me. "What if we..." He made a small flourishing gesture with his hand. "Perhaps, added something new to the show?"

I raised a brow behind the mask. He'd seen my face, but hadn't exactly looked impressed by it, so I elected to keep it on. "What sort of something new?"

"Well, obviously, the performance is fine on its own - it's attracting crowds like no one's business. I have shows booked for the next few months."

I was surprised by the excitement that brought me, rather than dread. "So why does it need to be altered?"

"No, not altered, exactly. Added to."

"What would we add to it, then?"

"What if we made it crowd-interactive?" He cocked his head. "Perhaps involve a volunteer from the audience to perform magic with. Enhance the wonder of the show."

The image of pulling a coin from behind a man's ear and then slicing his throat, dropping him to the ground, shadowed my vision. It was only there for a moment. But the effect was immediate. My heart pounded in my chest and I felt the urge to run.

I stood from the chair, hands shaking.

Again? God, this would be the third time in front of Franklin.

Franklin stood too. "Erik." Wide eyes scanned my face. "You look ill all of a sudden."

"No volunteers," I whispered through the nausea. I wanted to burp, but knew that it might bring up more than air. "No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to." I knew I sounded like a child. "And you will not make me."

He stared at me a while, as I breathed deeply, trying to control my heart. Then he asked, "Do you have...bad memories of doing magic with a volunteer?"

I said nothing.

"And...Erik I know that you were negatively affected by seeing a murder. Have you...seen many murders?"

My heart not only slowed at that - but seemed to stop altogether. "Why do you ask this?"

He didn't answer, only posed another question. "Have you...perhaps...participated in any?"

I couldn't speak. If I said no, he'd have no way of knowing it was a lie. But I was so frightened that he'd, somehow, see right through it that I merely froze.

He cleared his throat and went into his drawer again. He dug deep, and then pulled out a stack of papers, perhaps twenty or so pages. "I have a friend in London - where I am from, you know - who grew up poor like me. But he travels the world now, making money with his talent on the harmonica. And he is extremely good - the sounds he can make with just that instrument are unbelievable. He came back from a years-long journey through Europe and into the Near East and Asia. One of the nations he visited was Persia."

I heard a ringing in my ear.

"Just a week ago, I received a letter from him. Extremely long letter, detailing the most extraordinary things he saw. The Colosseum of Rome. St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow. Acrobats in Beijing. And one person in Tehran who could perform the most amazing sort of magic."

My hands refused to steady as I sat back down in the chair. My throat was dry. I couldn't look at him. My eyes refused to meet his.

"This person performed a show, at the Shah's request, out in a very public, very busy square one evening. The show involved a man who was in chains, apparently accused of something. The magician made the man's body disappear, then reappear dead."

I closed my eyes.

I remembered that night. It was one of the first performances I was made to do, something to let the people of Tehran know of my existence, and to threaten them against acting out against the Shah. The man in question had merely spoken against the tyrannical rule. That had been his only crime.

"This person - the executioner - had a face that looked like a corpse's. His description, actually, fits your face. Isn't that odd? And what a coincidence that you both know how to perform magic."

"You can prove nothing," I whispered. I should have made a show like I, too, found this to be an incredible coincidence. But the tremors in my body, my fear, would have given me away. "You can't prove a thing.

"No," he said, "but I do find it odd that two of your friends are Near Eastern."

"You don't know that this is me." I was finally able to look at his eyes. They were wide and analyzing. "Did your friend list a name?"

"No."

"Then there's no real connection. Nothing concrete."

A long silence. "Erik, you don't think I would use this against you, do you?"

"Use what? You have nothing."

"Lad, I'm fairly certain this is you. It would explain...quite a bit."

"Like what?" I felt trapped in this chair. My feet were leaden. I wished for Christine, I wished to wake up and see her beside me, put this away as a bad dream.

"Like why you demanded to keep your identity hidden. Why you are so affected by performing. By watching death. If you didn't want to participate in magical killings, then of course performing or seeing a murder would possibly make you ill."

"I have a wife," I whispered, "so if you...use this against me, somehow, then she will be left without-"

"No, no! I - Erik, I am not planning on using this against you."

"I do not want anyone to know this was me. I want to leave that piece of me behind. No one can find out."

He closed his mouth, blew a breath out through his nose, and sat as well. "You saved my daughter and me. To be quite honest, there's not much I could find out about your past that would make me betray you like this. And proving it would mean I would need to force your unmasking to the world - which I would not do, as that would be an incredible invasion of privacy. So without seeing your face or knowing the name of..." He tapped a page of the long letter. "...this person, I doubt anyone could prove the connection - if they knew of this executioner at all! This all happened half a world away, and I doubt many travel to Persia on holiday. As far as anyone is aware, you wear the mask, the costume, for theatrical purposes, even outside the theatre. A kind of show that extends beyond the show. Not to hide a deformity."

My breathing began to calm. Yes. Everywhere I went, I still wore the cloak, the hat, the mask. My hair color was hidden. My thinness was not evident. No one could prove that my face was abnormal.

As the Angel, I wore no head covering. My clothes had shown off the skeletal form of my body, and the Shah and Khanum never allowed me to wear a mask around them or the people watching my magic. So even if someone had seen what I'd done in Persia, even if they knew of me, the only two connecting details between the Angel and the Phantom were that we were both tall and could create illusions.

There was no reason to panic.

I believed Franklin when he said he'd not use this against me. Why would he?

"If you don't intend to do anything with this information," I said, "why bring it up at all."

"It has been niggling at my brain for a while now. And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I simply had to confirm whether it was true."

I didn't blame him, honestly. And I could just picture him staying up at night, putting the pieces together.

"And I suppose it makes no sense to betray me." I smiled ruefully. "I'm making you money after all."

"It makes no sense to betray you because I consider you a friend."

Ah.

I hadn't considered that as a reason.

"I've been let down and conned by enough people that I know how wrong that is to do," he explained. "I told you my family was poor. I climbed my way out of that situation. Yes, I was a bit manipulative in convincing people to hire me, embellishing my skills somewhat, but I never took advantage. One man promised to pay me at the end of a long month of work cleaning his stables in the heat of July. He didn't give me a coin of what he owed. My parents and sisters starved, succumbing to weakness that allowed disease to ravage their bodies. Had they been stronger, more well-nourished, they likely would have survived.

"I found work shortly after. A salaried job for a wealthy fish merchant. Wealthy enough to afford servants in his house and pay a staff in his office. I was his clerk - he liked that I could read and calculate, but that I was willing to accept a lower wage. I was fourteen and desperate, and I worked hard. He never increased my salary over the years - but I found one thing in this job that made it absolutely worth it. I fell in love with his daughter. Margaret. My age, and beautiful. And, despite the difference in our stations, she fell for me too.

"The problem, of course, arose when we were both seventeen. She was pregnant. She admitted it was mine. So her parents hid her away, rather than letting us marry. When the baby was born, they sent me, the child, and a wet-nurse to France. The wet-nurse was mailed money every month for two years, to keep the baby alive, and then her contract ended. Margaret had insisted on this - if she could not marry me, then at least ensure the baby was well cared for. Ensure that I had work, too - her parents found me a job in a factory in Paris. I worked there for a long while. Had to learn French quickly, of course." A sad smile. "I'm sure you have obviously guessed the name of the baby."

"Grace."

He nodded. "Once the wet-nurse was gone and Grace could walk, eat table food, and speak, our elderly neighbor began watching her while I worked. Mme. Durand. She was a widow, poor like me, but we helped each other when we could. She said I had 'charismatic talent' - that, if I tried, I could make it as a businessman. But I had no way to properly do this. To build a business, one needed money. I had only enough to keep myself and my daughter sheltered and alive.

"But one day, I heard tell of a man who gave out loans without requirements. He was, apparently, wealthy enough to take a few losses, though his interest rates were...slightly higher than most. The man didn't even require a contract. I'd always liked the idea of owning a theatre - I love the performing arts, though I'd only ever experienced street shows - and...well, you probably know the rest."

"Vaillancourt took advantage of you."

"Yes. I did everything right. Studied business management from what books I could gather, paid him on time, set a timetable for building the theatre. But it...well, it bit me in the ass, didn't it? For a long while, I wished for my life in poverty again. At least then I had freedom and my daughter. Then you came along. So, no, Erik. I am not going to betray you. It would be the stupidest thing I've ever done - and that is saying something."