Chapter 3
Mademoiselle
"I want her found! She would not just disappear, I think I know my own daughter better than you Monsieur," Madame Giry said as she paced back and forth.
Andre and Firmin had been trying to calm the ballet mistress for the past hour, but it seemed that nothing they said could appease her.
"Madame Giry, I assure you that we have all the stage hands we can spare looking for your daughter, but it is possible that if she does not want to be found she just might not show up until she's ready."
"And pray tell Monsieur Firmin, why would she not want to be found?"
"Perhaps the pressure of being the Prima Ballerina is too much for her."
"If my daughter had these fears then she would come and talk to me about them, not run and hide. And she would never do that, dancing is her life. I very seriously doubt she would suddenly develop stage fright."
"But it could happen, in any case, we would appreciate it if you would prepare Jammes to go on in your daughter's place should the need arise," Andre said, knowing that she was the only dancer competent enough to go on for Meg.
"That girl cannot dance the part. Her movements are too awkward and she does not have the patience to dance with the grace needed."
"Bu-but someone must go on! How can we do the opera without someone dancing the main role?"
"Then I suggest that you find my daughter."
Madame Giry didn't say another word as she walked away from the two flustered managers.
"Excuse me Messieurs," Little Jammes said to the managers once she was sure that Madame Giry was out of earshot. "I don't know if this means much to you, but I know Meg's part in the ballet and I would be happy to dance it for you if she does not come back in time."
"Oh thank God!" Andre exclaimed. "We won't have to refund any of the money. The show can still go on as planned."
"Yes, it can. But I still think we should make an effort to find Mademoiselle Giry, otherwise her mother just might refuse to teach the girls all together."
"I hate to interrupt," Little Jammes said softly, still standing there and listening to every word that was said. "But I think the Phantom might have gotten her."
"What do you mean?" Firmin said as he turned to look right at the ebony-haired girl. "If the Phantom is still alive, why would he want Meg Giry? He has never once shown any interest in the girl."
"She was Christine's best friend though. Maybe he thinks that he can lure her away from Monsieur le Vicomte de Changy by taking her best friend."
"Girl, what is it that makes you think that the Opera Ghost or for that matter the Vicomte or Miss Daae are even still alive? Aren't you the one always talking about how they must be dead?"
"That's true Monsieur, I believed that up until last night. You see I was walking back towards the dormitories when I saw Meg heading to the stage. I thought it strange that she would be up so late, so I followed her. She seemed like she was in some sort of trance, just the way Miss Daae looked on occasion. Anyway, I kept a good distance behind her so she would not see me. She went and stood in the center of the stage, then all of a sudden a black shape came out of no where and grabbed her. The poor girl didn't even get a chance to struggle when he released a trap-door below the stage and they fell through. It had to be the Phantom, who else could it be? And what other reason would he have to take Meg unless he thought that Miss Daae was still alive?"
"Why did you wait until now to tell us this?" Andre asked.
"Only because I was frightened by the thought of what the Opera Ghost would do to me!" she wailed. "I was afraid he would try to kill me! But now I know that the only important thing is trying to find Meg. I'm so sorry that I didn't say anything before now."
"It's quite alright dear, we understand. Why don't you go rest before the performance? We'll alert the stage hands to your news and see if they have a better chance of finding Mademoiselle Giry."
"Yes Messieurs," she said as she walked off the stage, a satisfied smile on her thin lips.
…
Pain. That was the first thing Meg was aware of when she opened her eyes. Her left arm was sore and littered with cuts, but that did not compare to how her head felt. Slowly she reached her hand back and let it gently touch the back of her head. She could feel the dried blood matted against her now tangled hair as her fingertips applied the slightest of pressure.
Moving her hand away, she began to take in her surroundings. She knew for sure that she was no longer in the room of mirrors, but she was also not back in the safety of her own room. Then where could she have been? The black curtains around the large bed did not look familiar; neither did the red crushed velvet sheets currently covering her form. Was it possible that she was no longer in the Paris Opera House?
Maybe someone had found her and taken it upon himself to take her to a hospital. But then again, no hospital that she knew of had accommodations this nice.
Slowly sitting up, Meg waited a moment for the sharp pains in her head to subside before pulling back the curtain. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked at the room before her. Now things were familiar. Oh she knew exactly where she was. In fact, only four months ago she had been here herself. She was in the Phantom's lair.
Somehow she wasn't frightened by this prospect. After all, when she came down here against her mother's orders it had been to warn the man of the mob coming after him. No matter what he had or had not done, Meg didn't think he deserved whatever the mob planned to do to him. And she owed it to Christine. She knew the girl wouldn't want her former teacher killed, it wasn't in her heart hate anyone so.
But it seemed she had arrived too late, for the Phantom was gone. All that had been left was a small, white half mask. Meg had scooped the mask into her hands and taken it with her, though even now she didn't know why. Perhaps it had been her curiosity that had caused her to take one of his possessions, or perhaps she had secretly hoped that if he survived he would come looking for the mask. Maybe then she would be able to get the answers about what had happened to her friend.
Still though, why would she be here of all places? If the Phantom was alive, then wouldn't it have made more sense for him to leave this place? He was a wanted man, and who knew what the authorities would do if they got a hold of him.
'Not that they could really do much though. He certainly can't be convicted of crimes that there are no witnesses to,' she thought to herself as she slipped from the bed, her bare feet hitting the cold stone floor.
Finding a way out was going to be hard she reasoned with herself. Especially when she felt so dizzy and light-headed that she could pass out at any moment. Forcing all the negative thoughts down inside her, Meg made herself begin to walk.
She took in everything around her, looking for anything that could possibly lead her out of the underground maze. But with tunnels and doors all around her and even more passages out beyond the lake, she began to wonder if she could ever find a way out. It had been so simple before when she thought about it, but now it seemed as if she could spend her entire life down here and still be no closer to getting home.
What if she really was trapped down here, forever? She'd never get to see her mother again. A single tear slipped from her eye as she thought about dying in this place, completely alone.
With the last of her hope gone, so went the last of her strength. Her knees buckled beneath her and she waited for the pain she knew would come. Meg gasped when, instead of hitting the hard floor, she was grabbed from behind by a pair of strong arms.
…
What had he been thinking? Why had he been so foolish as to bring another woman to his underground home? And not just any woman, oh no. He just had to take Christine's best friend. As if he didn't think of her enough, now he had Little Meg Giry to constantly remind him of what he had lost.
He knew he was just setting himself up for another disaster, a repeat of what had happened with Christine. No, he couldn't let it get that far. He'd just take care of the girl and send her on her way when she was healthy enough to leave. Maybe even before then if she was too frightened to stay.
Sighing to himself, he stood from his crouched position on the bathroom floor. He had just finished preparing a bath for his "guest", knowing that when she woke she would want to remove the blood and dirt from her body. He just hoped she would wake up.
Many times had he seen careless scene changers fall from the rafters, striking their heads. And more often than not they could not be awoken from their state.
He sincerely wished that Meg did not share this fate. While he really did not know the girl, he wouldn't want the pain her death would bring to her mother. Madame Giry had been the only person besides Christine to ever show him any kindness.
Walking from the bathroom, he stood outside the door for a moment before deciding that he would try to wake the girl himself. That way if he couldn't bring her back, then at least he could get her to a hospital.
Moving quickly, he found himself in the main room of his home, right behind a very unsteady Meg. Not even thinking, he took two large strides and caught her before she fell.
"You shouldn't be up," he said simply as he righted the tiny girl, careful to keep an arm around her shoulders should she fall again.
Meg's eyes widened as she looked up into his face, knowing that the masked man before her was the Phantom. Her shock faded quickly enough, but instead of being replaced by fear or revulsion as he had expected, she only stared at him in confusion.
"What?" he ground out, harsher than he had meant to.
"Your mask."
"Yes, what about it?"
"Why are you wearing the mask from the masquerade ball?"
"Because Mademoiselle, it was the only one not destroyed by the mob you led down here!"
"I didn't lead them down here!" she shouted back, not in the least intimidated by the man before her. "I ran down ahead of them to try to warn you!"
"And why would you do that? Why would you want to warn a monster?" he spat back.
"I did it for Christine. I knew she wouldn't want you harmed."
"Don't you dare speak her name in my presence!"
"Fine!"
"Now Mademoiselle, I think you should get cleaned up. You're completely filthy."
Meg grit her teeth together to keep from saying something she'd regret. Her mother had always told her to be polite, no matter what the circumstances. "Do you have somewhere that I can clean myself, or should I just wade about in your lake?"
"Right this way Mademoiselle," he said as he led her to the bathroom.
"My name is Meg."
"I assure you I am quite aware of your name Mademoiselle."
"If you know it, then use it. Stop calling me Mademoiselle."
"Very well Meg," he said as he stopped outside the bathroom door.
"And do you have a name or should I just call you Monsieur Phantom?"
"What does my name matter?"
"In polite society when a lady asks for a name it is usually given."
"Look around you; I hardly think the rules of society apply down here. And unless my eyes deceive me, I see no lady either."
Meg didn't respond, instead she stomped her little bare foot onto his boot-clad one and disappeared into the bathroom. He stood there stunned for a moment before a small chuckle escaped his lips.
"You'll find clothing that you can dress yourself in after your bath. I'm sure they'll be too big but it's the best I could do. And to answer your question, my name is Erik."
