Chapter Thirty-three - To The Exquisite Power

Meg reached her mother's side and looked out onto the stage.

It was not Piangi who strode across the stage, giving his cloak a sharp twirl as he approached Christine.

It was Erik, his eyes fixed on Christine as she knelt beside her basket of red roses.

As she listened, as she felt his voice once again, Meg suddenly began to understand what Christine must have felt that night after Gala. Her soul and body wanted to respond to him, to the exquisite power of his singing.

His voice is too beautiful…it's almost a drug…

The dancers in black hurried past her onto the stage.

Past the point of no return, no backward glances…past all thought of if or when…what unspoken secrets will we learn beyond the point of no return?

Meg sensed the vague confusion of the audience. They knew someone had taken Piangi's place, but they seemed to think it was some new turn of the plot.

But her mother knew…and Christine knew.

As Meg watched, the soprano looked up and gave the faintest of nods to Raoul. A moment later, an armed officer appeared in the manager's box.

Meg saw the rifles brought to bear on the Phantom as the dancers slowly writhed and pivoted to the music.

Christine was climbing the wooden stairs to the walkway now.

Meg could not tell if she was only the bait in this terrible trap or if she were more than a pawn, that she betrayed him willingly.

The gendarmes could not shoot him if his body was blocked by Christine's…or by her own. Almost involuntarily, Meg tried to run onto the stage, towards those twisting stairs.

A hand on her arm held her back.

Not her mother's, but that of a policeman.

"Careful, girl," he said, "we don't want you to get hurt, too."

"The bastard's using Mam'zelle Daae as a shield," she heard one of the gendarmes say in a low voice, "there's no way in hell I can get a clear shot at him now!"

Meg looking up at Erik, Meg knew that was not true, that he would not shield his body with Christine's. He seemed unaware of them all now, the gendarmes, the audience, his rival…they had ceased to exist.

He seemed aware of only one thing…Christine was there in his embrace.

The music had ceased…the musicians in the pit has sensed that something was wrong, that something had changed…

He held Christine close, his hands so gentle on her throat before he turned her to face him.

Say you'll share with me…one love, one lifetime…anywhere you go, let me go, too…

Christine, don't do this…don't make him beg like that…not for the world to see, not like that.

Christine reached up and caressed his face. From where she stood, she saw surprise in his eyes at her sudden tenderness.

Christine's hand trailed slowly along his cheek. Her delicate fingers curled around edge of the black suede domino.

And then Erik's face was bare, the mask and wig torn away, his disfigurement exposed to them all.