Chapter XIV.

A year passed.

It was the year 1888, a leap year, which contained Erik's first Birthday since Mahtab's birth. Erik did not celebrate his Birthday in every year, as everyone else did. He was born on 29th February, and as that day was missing from the calendar most of the years, he rather chose not to make a fuss about it and go on without his Birthday- he was used to no one celebrating it, and he rather felt uncomfortable about being so spoiled for one day- he got his favorite meal cooked, with a glass of great wine and a special, very expensive and unique cigar Christine would leave on the harmonium for him- he was, of course, happy for it, at the same time. This year he was already a retired man, leading a pleasant life with his wife and child, so his Birthday was a very pleasant one as well- and he got so touched about Mahtab also gave him a gift. She was yet too small to understand the concept of Birthdays and why did not her father have them every year as her Mother does, and so does she, but she wanted to make Papa happy- just as always. He got a box of bitter chocolate – he loved that the most- that Mahtab gave him and on the top of it there was a paper on which he could see the print of Mahtab's small skeletal hand in red watercolors and above it he could read "Joyeux Anniversaire, Papa!" with Christine's beautiful cursive. He smiled, and could not help but tears were forming in his eyes. He was such an old man – reaching 56 right that day- who knew he will be able to have so beautiful moments at such an age?

1888 was a year of complete delight with Mahtab growing and developing quickly. She was now talking in more complicated sentences and she was fully potty trained when she was nearly 3 years old. Her parents were both happy to finally get rid of diapers. She was talkative, cheerful and a little bit spoiled, to tell the truth, but everyone liked her as she was.

It was really a total sweet year – save for one thing: Cadence.

Christine had to admit that the automaton was good for one thing – Mahtab got much calmer since she had a friend to play with, no matter if it was alive or just a machine. It was a very well- programmed machine, to begin with, it could imitate human movements and reactions. Mahtab walked with it, holding hands. Her tantrums reduced in this one year since Cadence was a part of the family, as she was occupied by her friend- they even "slept" together in Mahtab's locomotive bed. They talked to each other, and to Erik, he even gave them kisses equally – just as the automaton was a child of his own as well. Cadence was dressed in a different outfit every day, Mahtab picked out the clothing she should wear for the day and it had sleepwear too- it was treated just like a real child of their own. Cadence also "grew" along with Mahtab- so they were always the same height. Erik explained it was because he designed extendable legs and arms for Cadence, so she was able to grow. The only thing Cadence wasn't able to do was to take a bath with Mahtab. It worked by some kind of electric power and Erik explained Christine that putting the thing in the same bathtub with Mahtab will instantly cause the child's death.

- No matter how she wants it, never ever let Cadence near water. – He warned her numerous times.

Christine wasn't too fond of the doll, though. She found it way too creepy and a shiver ran down her spine when she saw it. It was such a lifeless thing without any soul or emotions – it could imitate some reactions but her voice was so mechanical and monotone. And she made weird noses while moving. But this was the smaller problem. The bigger one was the problem that even the Persian pointed out on a Sunday visit of his:

- Erik, the child thinks Cadence is alive. She is just a 3 year old girl. You know at this age they can't make a difference between dreams and reality- and she will treat everyone as they were robots.

- Don't dare to call my Cadence a robot. – Erik said, insulted.

- But it IS a robot, Erik. I know you like to build them, but they can't be like real people. Never. You can't replace human interactions with a world of robots.

- They are actually MUCH better than people, and human children. They will never call Mahtab ugly or a monster, you see. As long as she is happy with her, what is the problem?

- Erik… Do you plan to make more of them? – Christine asked cautiously.

- I don't know yet. It seems like Cadence is enough for her right now. – He took a sip of his tea, and turned his head towards the door to see what was happening outside in the hall.

The sight his eyes met made him instantly spit his tea out and causing him a coughing fit, which resulted in him spilling the remaining tea on his trousers and waistcoat. He jumped up and ran outside, examining the situation closer, hoping that his eyesight deceived him… but it was sadly not the case.

On the beautiful wallpaper he chose to decorate the hall with, there were huge blue ink markings, blue, black and red. There were patches of ink spilled on the floor as well, with footsteps of two different baby shoe prints. He followed the footsteps carefully, without a single word, and found out that the two girls were now in the kitchen, causing more trouble. Or, precisely, it was only Cadence making mischief. Mahtab was standing in the middle of the kitchen, ordering Cadence around.

- Get the cookies! The chocolate ones!

- What is going on here, Mahtab?- Erik asked angrily, placing his hand on his hip.

- We want to eat cookies. – Mahtab explained.

- Cadence, come down. – Erik ordered. The doll instantly obeyed. Only then Erik could see Cadence was covered in ink from head to foot. Mahtab was immaculate, save for the ink on her shoes she stepped in.

- Papa, we are just playing.

- Why did you ruin the wall outside?

- I did not. – She shook her head. – It was Cadence. – She pointed at her friend.

- God… Mahtab, Cadence isn't a real thing, she does what you tell her to do!

- I told her to draw. – She said with innocent look on her face. – She is bad, punish her.

- Mahtab, you don't understand me. – Erik knelt down and looked at the child strictly. – You KNOW that you tell her to do bad things, don't you?

- No bad things. I want her to draw.

Erik was wondering if the doll just malfunctioned so he chose not to punish Mahtab for this action right now as he did not exactly know what has happened. He was just cleaning up after the child and tried to salvage the wallpaper with rather less than more success. He was irritated to see that he had to change the wallpaper in the hall.

- I told you that it was going to be dangerous. – Mohammed scolded him as he returned and collapsed in his chair.

- Everything malfunctions sometimes. – He shrugged.

- Erik, it is not about that! – Christine tried to argue, but Erik really wasn't in the mood for child raising courses. He just silenced her with a hand gesture.

Erik had to face that it was sadly not the last malfunction of the doll – if it was a malfunction at all. Various mischiefs were happening around the house – he found chocolate spots on his sheet music, on the carpet or the cushions, things that Mahtab should not have touched were missing and after reappearing in different places. Christine was searching for her knitting needles frantically in the house and was terrified to find out that Mahtab was using them as xylophone sticks on her toy.

- Never ever take these again, Mahtab! – She scolded her worriedly. – You could have stuck your eyes out!

- It wasn't me, it was Cadence. She brought them.

Christine was starting to get fed up with Cadence. Not enough "she' was creepy, but now she causes trouble after trouble. When she complained about it to Erik, he did not seem to be too much cooperative about the subject- she could have expected his reaction to be something similar as she was bothering him while composing. The usual comment she got from him in these situations was just an "Ahem, good, Christine, good…" –then he did not even pay any more attention to her and turned back to write his damned sonata. Christine was very fond of music herself as well, but Erik was too much into composing if he got inspired and it sometimes annoyed Christine. She wouldn't have dared to leave the child alone with Erik for the evening and night, as she knew well that Erik was blind and deaf when he was working, not even noticing if his study was suddenly in flames around him- And well, that could very easily happen with Mahtab and Cadence being left alone for the night! How could he save Mahtab from danger like this? Now she understood what Erik meant when he said he only lived of music when he was working.

As she had to go to the Opera, she decided she will do the only possible solution she can choose – take Mahtab with her to the Opera that night. She thought she was already old enough to see a rehearsal and a performance, and what a better way to make a child get to like music even more than she already does than showing her a night at the Opera?

- Do you want to accompany Mama to the Opera, sweetheart? – She asked Mahtab who was sitting on the floor in her room, playing with that wretched doll- sister of hers.

- Music? – Her eyes shone up curiously and joyfully.

- Yes, dear, you can watch Mama sing!

Thankfully, Mahtab jumped up from the floor without hesitation or any arguing with her Mom, and was even willing to leave that creepy twin behind. Christine, learning from her old mistake, put a veil on Mahtab's face again and dressed her in one of her finest clothes. She always hoped Mahtab is going to wear that dress for the Opera. While leaving, Christine said hello to Erik and briefly told her that the child was with her. Erik did not even lift his head from his sheet music and only gave an irritated "Ahem!" as a reply, so Christine just stuck out her tongue in his direction then left, holding Mahtab's tiny bony hand. Let him work on his Magnum Opus in peace!

The rehearsal went awesomely well. Mahtab, thankfully, did not make trouble. She was acting way more mature than her age. She was placed in an empty chair in the first row. Christine was marvelous as Olympia, and the tiny girl looked at her with eyes wide-open. She knew her Mama had a beautiful voice, but at home it did not sound half as good as it did here with full orchestral accompaniment.

Christine was a bit worried where Mahtab will be left while the whole performance as there will be no empty place and she would most likely be constantly in her heels, but to her biggest relief, she saw the Persian arriving to the Opera. That man really lived at this place, even after he did not need to chase Erik through the cellars. He loved music and he would not miss a chance to see something. Mohammed was happy to run into Christine and her tiny girl there, he kissed Christine's hand and instantly offered his help with the child. That is what Christine admired in this man- he would always care for others instead of himself and was willing to help, without even asking.

- Let me take my dear little Mahtab with me for her first night at the Opera, dear Christine. Come now, Mahtab dear, the Opera is starting shortly.

- And they will sing all the time?

- Yes dear, all night of singing. – The Persian smiled, lifting up Mahtab from the ground and walked her to his usual box.

He sat down placing the girl on his lap, as from a chair she wasn't tall enough to see anything. She was looking around for a time, but as the Overture started playing she asked on her full volume:

- When is Mama singing again?

- Sssssh! – The Persian placed on of his fingers on Mahtab1s lips but shuddered at the sensation of the child1s teeth on the missing half of her lips. Even through the veil he could feel them. – You should not talk during the Opera, Mahtab.

- Why? – She asked, a bit softer, but still audibly.

- Because you are bothering the others. They came to listen to music, you know. – The Daroga whispered.

Mahtab silenced herself for some minutes, but the Daroga thought about he shouldn't have visited the Opera that night- Mahtab was constantly asking him questions about everything. She wanted to know the name of every instrument, she did not understand the plot (how could she…) and she asked many things about music. Why she sings so high? Why they aren't singing now? Why are they singing at the same time? Mohammed- Ismael was rubbing his forehead from time to time, partly trying to answer Mahtab's numerous questions and partly trying to silence her. She is starting to give him headaches- just like her father!

Erik suddenly heard footsteps behind his back. He tried not to acknowledge the child's presence in the room, as Mahtab would leave him alone if he did not pay attention to her for a time. The strange thing was the child did not even want to get his attention this time, it was just wandering up and down in the study. Erik shrugged and did not say a word to her. He was busy, why people can't understand it? Suddenly he heard a strange noise. The child walked into the wall and fell in her back, but it gave such a strange sound…

Only then he realized it wasn't Mahtab.

- Cadence! – He moaned. – Go out of the room and play with Mahtab.

- Command unconsummated. – The thing replied and ran into the wall again.

- Play with Mahtab! – He repeated louder as he thought the little bunch of gears did not "hear" him properly.

- Command unconsummated. – It replied again, still showing an error.

Erik stood up slowly. He knew that the machine says this only if it can't do what they ordered to it. And WHY can't it play with Mahtab? He opened the study's door and looked outside. Everything was dark. The nursery as well. He ran out of his study, and nervously examined every square metre of the house, calling for both Mahtab and Christine… but none of them did reply, nor could they be found anywhere. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaved up and down from getting more and more upset. Where on Earth did they disappear? The Mahtab- imitator was following him but he wasn't in the mood for that. He grabbed the doll and switched it off then locked it in a closet, He ran out of the house, searching in the garden as well, but everyone was gone… and then the reality just hit him like a thunder… at the goddamned Opera they were! Christine is performing.

Getting weak in the knees and sick in the stomach from being worried and angry at the same time, he dragged himself to the bench and collapsed on it, wheezing and squeezing his shaking hand on his chest. He was weak and felt sick, unable to move for a time. Fresh air in the garden slowly made him feel a bit better and he staggered back in the house to lay down- he did not feel strong enough to go to the Opera to get Mahtab as he wanted to do so earlier.

When he opened his yellow cat-like eyes again, he saw Christine's face in front of him as she leaned closer.

- Oh Erik! Are you feeling better?

- How do you know I was sick? - He responded mechanically. It was always a warning sign of a later fight to come.

- You looked rather pale and you usually don't sleep here in the drawing room.

- It was the closest spot I could find at that time. – He explained.

- Are you all right…?

- Sure. Why would I NOT be all right? – This was again his sarcastic tone that indicated his anger to return again. – Just because you take the child away…? So I can worry about you two?

- I told you where we are. – Christine retorted. – Only that you did not pay attention to me when I told you, because you were composing.

- Why did you take my child to the Opera?

- Our child is in love with the Opera now, and I am going to take her there regularly.

- She is 3 years old! She is too young for it yet, Christine!

- Why? Didn't you tell me we should show her music from a very young age?

- Not this young age, Christine! She can't sit still for hours yet! Her attention span is like a squirrel's, but it is normal with a 3 year- old. She should be, I think, at least 7, and we should certainly start with Magic Flute. Until that, I am training her at home.

- No. I took her with me tonight and she loved it.

- Isn't it that I had to retire to watch her? The Opera starts way later than her bedtime.

- If you actually DID watch her, I shouldn't have taken her, to begin with.

- Oh, so now Erik is careless.

- You can be when your music is at first priority.

- Tell me WHO caused injuries for Mahtab among the two of us?

- Oh, Erik, don't start it again…!

- I am not starting it, you did start it. But anyway, as you wish, my love, you do as you please. Erik is too tired for an argument and it will be as you want it to be, so what's the point? I am going to bed. Good night, and do what you want.

Erik left the room, still staggering a bit, as he was feeling dizzy. Christine was stubborn – she already decided that Mahtab should see how a theater works, and she should get used to the Opera house and music the youngest possible. But she already knew how to make Erik feel better.

Her apology was accepted- and they found peace in each other's arms – a bit more intimate than they would imagine earlier.

One day Christine turned even happier than before as she finally got what she wanted. It was an afternoon of late November and Erik, Christine and the Persian were sitting at the drawing room, while they assumed Mahtab to be in her room, playing. Suddenly Erik heard a strange noise. It was a special kind of rattling as if someone tried to light a match on the side of the matchbox…

- Mahtab! – He gasped and jumped up from his chair, storming out to the kitchen.

He was just in time to reach the kitchen to see Mahtab holding a single burning match in her left hand and staring at it. He was so worked up that he could not help himself but hit a few on the child's hand after he tore the match out of it and blew it out to stop the burning.

- Never ever you should touch matches anymore, Mahtab! Do you hear me? Never!

- You touch it too!

- That's something else, Mahtab, I can handle them! Never touch it again!

- It wasn't me. – She admitted in a lamentable tone as she got scared of her Papa's sudden rage. – It was Cadence…

- Cadence! - Erik yelled, shaking uncontrollably. – ALWAYS Cadence? – He released Mahtab as he was concerned that he might hurt her badly in a sudden outrage. His eyes met the automaton standing in the corner of the kitchen, still holding the matchbox in its hands.

Erik knew well now what Mahtab is using Cadence for- to get and reach things she can't touch on her own. The matches were placed on a shelf high above the stove for the exact reason that Mahtab should not be able to reach it. But she outsmarted them- sending Cadence up there to catch it for her. Now he knew he made a huge mistake when giving Mahtab a robot to play with… and knew what he had to do to save the situation. He carried Cadence under his arm to his study and locked himself inside for an hour. Mahtab was comforted by Christine and the Persian in the drawing room, and after put to sleep for the afternoon nap.

Erik reappeared, looking sad and emotionally tired.

- Why do you always have to be right? – He asked, looking at the Daroga.

- I don't know. – He replied softly. He did not want to hurt Erik, as he knew that Erik feels guilty enough already. – But I understand your motivation behind the doll.

- It is no more. – He sighed. – I dissembled it.

- You did the right thing. – He heard Christine's voice behind his back.

- I know. – He nodded.

It wasn't such a hard thing to explain the disappearance of Cadence to Mahtab as Christine imagined it to be. Erik was so good at explaining things to her, and to her surprise he did not say it was because the incident with the matches.

- You know, my dear, Cadence went back to her parents.

- Really? – Mahtab asked with a sad expression.

- Really, dear, her parents missed her already. Mama and Papa would miss you too if you were a guest at your friend's house for so long time.

- Will she come back?

- I am not sure… maybe if her Mama and Papa lets her come here again.

- Why didn't she say bye-bye to Mahtab?

- Because she did not want to make you sad. But Papa will make you feel better about it.

- How?

- Here is another little friend for you. – Erik smiled, showing her a small ragdoll. Mahtab easily could hug it. – You can name it as you want to.

- Olympia. -She nodded without hesitation.

- As you wish. – Erik laughed.

- Can Olympia speak?

- Oh, but of course she can! – Erik exclaimed happily. – She can also sing.

- Sing! – She looked at the doll hopefully.

The little doll started singing on a high male soprano voice, Christine and Mohammed instantly recognized Erik's changed voice in it and they just started laughing at the old trick – master, using his ventriloquism to entertain his daughter.

Olympia was a great replacement for Cadence- and they could easily agree it was way less dangerous.

Erik did not even try to argue with Christine about the Opera any more. He was actually happy for it as it meant he can accompany them as well, and he was sure Mahtab will shut her little malformed face if he sits with her in Box 5. So, the next time there were three people sitting at box 5: Erik with Mahtab on his lap and the Daroga. This time the Opera played Othello.

- Are you sure it is the right play for a child? – The Persian turned to Erik before the Overture started.

- As her mother, she will tell you how good is it for her. I am going to cover her eyes at bad parts.

- Papa, why is that man so dark? – Mahtab dragged Erik's frock coat when noticing Othello on the stage.

- Shhh! – He whispered. – I told you I am not going to take you here ever again if you talk.

To their surprise, the child really did not talk any more during the night, but as the opera ended she started to bomb Erik with her endless questions. Erik was busy answering them, so they walked slowly to the Grand Staircase and they often stopped.

Christine was happy as the opera was a great success that night, and she could not wait for their pleasant night together at home with her Erik. She changed to her clothes and walked out of her dressing room when she suddenly heard a male voice behind her back in the hallway:

- Christine…! Congratulations… you were awesome tonight.

She nearly cried out in surprise and horror as she recognized the voice. It was tired and weak, and somewhat deeper than she remembered, but it definitely was him. She turned around slowly to see if she was just hallucinating, but to her shock, she saw him right in front of her.

- Raoul?

This was the only word she could whisper before passing out.