Chapter 2
Odette stood on Pont Neuf, the oldest bridge in Paris, wondering if it would all be easier if she simply jumped in to the swirling waters of the Seine, knowing that she never would. The weakness she would show by committing suicide sickened her. Odette had spent much of her life in Persia at the palace of Mazenderan; she had been a friend of the sultana, the sultana had been the reason she met Erik. Life near foreign royalty had given Odette a stronger personality than was proper for a European woman of the time, but she had long ago given up caring. She knew that she must go back to the Opera and find the Daroga. She also felt a need to talk to Christine Daaé, there was something about her that was still bothering Odette. Most of all Odette needed to find a way to talk to Erik, she had to convince him that she loved him, she had traveled the world for five years hoping that somehow she would find him again. I love him so; Odette told the river as it rushed under her feet, can I make him believe that I have always truly loved him? The Opera should be almost empty at this time in the morning, maybe I can wonder around a bit and try to figure out what to do; maybe Erik will even come to me if I am alone. She laughed at herself as she unconsciously reached for the dagger she kept hidden in the folds of her skirt. Does he make me that nervous; she wondered would he actually follow through on his threat to kill me if I ever followed him? I must go to the Opera! With that Odette started walking, she loved to walk early in the morning when the city was still shrouded in mist from the river, it reminded her of her brief affair with Erik. He used to walk the palace grounds with her in the early mornings, when there was no one else around.
She had met the mysterious man in the palace. She was walking down the empty hall to her suit when she herd the voice, "I could give you such a voice, you could astonish the Gods," the voice whispered. Odette looked down the hall, but there was no one there. Shaking her head in confusion, Odette kept walking. "I could teach you to sing, to really sing," said the voice a little uncertain this time. Now Odette saw him, a man leaning against the wall wearing dark dress cloths despite the Persian heat, a white mask covered half his face. His voice was so soft and beautiful it kept Odette rooted to the spot, speechless. Odette tried to speak, she wanted to make the voice speak again, but her voice wouldn't obey, the best that she could do was nod silently. The man smiled and sang softly "Come to me my Angel of Music" and he held out his hand to her. Still too awestruck to talk Odette trustingly took his hand and allowed herself to be lead away.
Odette jumped as a hansom nearly ran her over and her mind returned to her current settings, she found that her feet had found their way to the Place de l'Opera and she now stood staring up at the impressive Opera building. A coach rattled up behind her and Odette was surprised to see Christine Daaé get out and walk towards the entrance. I have never known a Diva to get up at 8 o'clock the morning after a Gala to return to the Opera. I wonder what she's up to? Quietly, Odette followed Christine who was completely oblivious to the presence of any one else. Curiously Odette followed Christine across the foyer and towards the dressing rooms.
"Bonjour" Odette called softly realizing that she had no reason to follow this girl.
Christine jumped and whirled around, but seemed oddly happy to see the stranger "Bonjour?"
Odette smiled trying to thing of an excuse of just why she was following this girl. Odette noticed that devoid of the garish stage make up this girl was beautiful and so young! She had tightly curled hair, so dark it was almost black, and a pale complexion with brown eyes that sparkled in the morning sun.
"Can I help you, are you lost?" asked Christine, confused.
"Oh, no I'm sorry! I'm, um, a friend of the new managers and I was just taking a look around their investment." Suddenly Odette had an idea, "Actually, I was asked to look into the problem of the Opera Ghost. See if I could figure out who's behind it."
"Or what" Christine said, but Odette saw a shadow of doubt cross Christine's eyes.
"No. I'm sure it's a person. There is no ghost, no 'Angel of Music'" Odette said bitterly.
"No A-Angel of Music?" the girl asked, looking scandalized.
"Yes, some say the Angel of Music haunts places like this."
"You will never find him!" Christine sounded outraged.
"...If Erik doesn't want to be found." A look of absolute fear crossed Christine's face, so this girl did know him!
"Tell Erik that Odette knows he's here, and I will find him" Odette replied turning to leave.
"Wait!" Odette turned back; Christine had gone completely pale "You've actually seen him, you've seen the Angel?"
"Of course I have, at least I've seen the man who calls himself the Angel of Music." Again, Christine looked scandalized. "My God, you haven't have you?"
"No, he sings to me, my angel of music, the angel of my father, in my dressing room, he taught me to sing…" Christine's voice trailed into awkward silence.
"…In your dressing room? He's the reason you sang so well last night and the reason you're here now, isn't he?"
"I-I I have to go!" Looking terrified Christine rushed off before Odette could say anything else.
"So, Erik has another pupil" Odette thought aloud staring in the direction Christine had fled. Wondering what to do next, she turned and left the empty Opera house.
Once locked safely in her dressing room Christine began to wonder about what the strange woman had said. Could it be true, could her Angel, who was indeed called Erik, be a mere mortal, a man named Erik. How could that be his voice came from the very walls! Yet, how had this woman, Odette, known exactly what Christine was doing here. Odette had seemed so certain that Christine's Angel was this man. She would ask him, when he came to her today.
"You are late!" Christine smiled at the beautifully soft man's voice that spoke to her from somewhere near the floor length mirror on her right.
"I'm sorry, I was stopped in the foyer" Christine spoke quickly. "By a woman named Odette, who said to tell Erik that she knows he's here, that she'll find you." Christine added wondering what the voice would have to say about this strange message.
"O-Odette?" For the first time ever the voice sounded speechless!
"Yes, a tall girl with red hair, and a strange accent. She said that there was no Angel of Music, that I had been hearing a man named Erik." The voice had no response. Christine was afraid that she had scared it away. "Erik, Angel please don't leave me!" She cried now unsure of what to call the voice.
"I am here" but the voice sounded cold and distant. Christine still feared that she would loose the voice, and yet she had to know if she spoke to a man or an Angel."Are you this man she spoke of?" Christine asked timidly.
The voice was silent for a moment then replied softly "I have not seen Odette in years. Why is she here!" he roared the last part, sounding so bitter and angry that Christine was scared in to silence. "We will not sing today!" Erik said roughly and though she cried to him, the voice had disappeared.
How could she dare to come back, dare to find him again, the treacherous snake! She was indeed a lying Delilah! She had promised him her love, but in the last days at Mazenderan she had betrayed him, she could never have truly loved him! Nevertheless, a part of him doubted that, she had acted so loving. She had never even shirked from his deformed face, but she had betrayed him! She had simply been a great actress, as she had been a great singer; Erik smiled in remembrance of her voice. Nearly as good as Christine, no she had been as good just very different. Christine's voice was sweet and gentle; she could sing any aria and credenza he asked of her. Odette had hade an amazing range, but in lower notes, she had never been able to sing a cadenza properly, she would have never be fit as an Opera Diva.
Odette had loved the graceful Arabians of Mazenderan and had spent a lot of time with them. He had seen her out in the fields riding one of the more difficult Arabian stallions with amazing ease and grace. He knew, at that moment, that he must speak to her somehow, without her seeing his accursed face. He watched her until nearly half an hour later when she finally dismounted and handed the horse over to one of the stable hands. Hastily, Erik moved into a grove of trees near her path, waiting for the girl to pass. She walked up the path singing to herself, Erik was stunned by her voice. With a little training, she could be quite good! He had to make himself known to this Angel! Like a ghost, he had followed her.
No! He must not think of Odette, of the good times at Mazenderan. He had to remember that for all the time he had thought she loved him there was the painful betrayal when he had been chased from Mazenderan, from Persia under pain of death. He laughed, how many times he thought of going back, death was preferable to living hidden and alone in the cellars of the Opera. Until the day he had heard Christine, she like Odette, had possessed a voice that he knew he could train, he could make her a true Diva! This time he had been careful, he would never foolishly show himself! He had heard her pray to her father for an Angel of Music, so Erik had become her Angel. He already had enough power over the managers to ensure she was given the dressing room at the end of the hall; it was ideally suited to his needs. It was far away from the others, with walls so paper thin he could easily make himself heard though them, and the mirror! The mirror was made so he could see into the room but no one could see him and it opened into a hall leading to his cellars. This room was so perfect that Erik had often wondered if someone before him had this idea, of seducing one of the dancers without being seen, he had often wondered who.
Why had Odette dared to come back? Why must she torture him! Was it possible that she had loved him, that Mazenderan hadn't been a lie, that she had been searching for him all these years? No, no, no! He could never allow himself to doubt her betrayal! She had come back to torture him again.