She climbed into the boat, her skirts being an unexpected obstacle, and struggled to get it out onto the lake and into the required direction. Only her uncounted years of practised discipline made her able to completely ignore her eerie surroundings and to focus her mind onto what was most important at the time being: reaching Erik's lair before the Vicomte did.

For she did not even dare imagine what was to happen if she failed. The consequences were bound to be fatal; for one side or the other.

She did not know what she expected Erik to do after he had received her warnings. She did not even know whether she expected him to do anything at all.

But still she felt certain that it was of essential importance that she warned him. She was one of the few people in the world whom he trusted, and perhaps the only one he listened to when he needed advice, which was hardly ever the case.

It would even be better for the boy if Erik was prepared for his arrival, better than to stumble across the surprised rage of an Opera Ghost that had believed himself safe.

She started from her reverie when she noticed how far she had already crossed the lake. And really, she heard the distant, tempting voice of the siren. Well acquaintanced with Erik's love for playing with traps, she knew better than to let herself get distracted by the lovely sound. Instead she watched out for hidden currents and unseen rocks.

She couldn't help but sigh in relief when she heard the reassuring sound of sand crunching beneath the boat and didn't bother to hide her joy at having firm ground beneath her feet when she finally climbed out onto the shores.