Father Once Spoke of an Angel

By: Stealiana

Disclaimer: The same as before applies.

Chapter 4: Master of Miracles

"I won't let you touch her!" The boy spread his arms, a feeble attempt to block the Ghost's advancement.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Erik scoffed. "Would you rather she died among the forgotten relics of the façades men have built?" He turned, feeling a prick of remorse for even trying to help. He did not take kindly to those who refused his few offers of goodwill. He began to walk away, saddened that the girl's sweet voice would soon be permanently silenced.

As Erik was about to leave the cellar, the boy called to him.

"Monsieur… do… do you know of a place she can stay? I'm afraid I have no money…" His voice wavered. Erik stopped and said over his shoulder,

"What you cannot pay in material terms will be more than compensated for through your talents." Erik returned and picked up the girl, surprised at her lightness. He wondered if perhaps it was already too late. For once, he was remotely thankful his mask covered his face. It wore an expression he was sure would betray his doubt of her survival.

Now that the boy had entrusted her care to him, he was like a little puppy - helpless, defenseless, and trailing Erik with soulful eyes. It was clear he was filled only with concern for this girl. Erik decided he had best lay down the ultimatum now, to ensure this unguided soul knew just what he was getting himself into.

"You must swear on your life never to tell a soul of what you will see. Or you shall pay - with a punishment much worse than death." The boy seemed slightly shaken by the threat, but did not change his mind.

"Who would I tell? You can count on my silence."

"Good. Now come, let us go to the lake."

* * *

Her eyes opened to see Eric's face lying on the edge of her bed.

Her bed…

She looked around the strange room. There was a fireplace, with a crackling fire warming her underneath the white, downy quilt she was covered in. Tapestries covered the dark walls, brightening the room filled with mahogany furniture and a chest of drawers. She saw no door to the room, but this did not frighten her as much as perhaps it should have. She burrowed beneath the sheets, facing Eric's peaceful face. She examined the trinkets on the shelves and mantelpiece, then stared at the top of Eric's head. He hadn't washed, even though she saw a perfectly good bathroom from where she lay. She found it odd there was no looking glass in either room.

She closed her eyes. Considering the lack of knowledge of her location, she supposed she should be worried, but seeing Eric sleeping calmly was comforting. He promised everything would be all right, and as far as she could tell, it was. She was relatively sure she wasn't dead, she was warm, and he was here. She would have time to ask questions later.

Eric opened his eyes, slightly groggy. It took him a moment to recall where he was, and then he jolted upright. He berated himself for dozing off. He had wanted to stay awake in case she woke up. He wanted to explain everything so she wouldn't be worried.

At his sudden movement, she propped herself up, her eyes not even attempting to mask her concern. The radiant smile that brightened his face at seeing her wake put her anxiety to rest. He impulsively embraced her and laughed, embarrassed by his actions and yet relieved. He held her small hand in both of his, thrilled at its warmth and the color in her cheeks.

"How long have I been asleep?" She asked.

"Well… it's hard to tell here, but I'd say about two and a half days." He squeezed her hand, unable to stop smiling. "Perhaps it would help if I explained everything a little…"

"After you fell asleep, the Opera Ghost came. He… offered us refuge, at least throughout the duration of your sickness. I told him we had no money, but he said it was alright. Our payment will be our singing."

"Our singing?"

"Oui. We shall sing for him. And, what's more, we might be able to stay off the streets for good. He said he could get us a job!"

"A job?! Where?"

"The Opera House. Where we are now - well, what we are underneath. We are at a house by the lake."

"The Opera…"

"He said he would teach us, and seeing us perform would pay back everything. He asks no more of us, but that we sing, with all our soul, in the Opera."

"The Opera! Singing in the Opera! Oh, Eric, think of it! We'll work so hard with him, and he can teach us… Oh! We'll be the envy of Paris! None shall look as pretty as us!" Her eyes sparkled, dazzled by the possibilities miraculously placed before her. No longer would she be a street rat. She would be a star.

Eric stood, his excitement bubbling over.

"I'll tell him right now!" He cried.

"But Eric, you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because there are no doors. We're stuck."

***Friendly reminder to r/r!