Part 4:
Melpomene and Euterpe

Friday,

January 14, 2000

Robin's
Room

Author's Note: First of all, don't be bothered by the French in this first scene. The words aren't important. Everything important is explained in their thoughts, but I also added subtitles, which are in And, to those of you who do speak French, you'll please pardon my inevitable massacre of the French language, especially my verb usage, which I'm unsure about.

Soft sunlight filters in through the unbreakable window. The curtains surrounding it are puffs of white, matching the blue and white decor of the room. Robin sighs as she paces.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle," Danielle says breezily, entering the door. She pauses. "You are Anna's daughter, no?"

"Yes, I am."

"That is what I had thought." Danielle said, nodding. She leaves the bag she has carried in on the dresser. "These are some of the things from your apartment, things Monsieur Faison thought you might like. Pictures and such." Pausing, knowing that even if their were cameras, at least Faison, for all his airs, spoke little French and few would translate if it meant trouble for Danielle. "Ca va?" How are you? The change of languages was so quick and smooth that Robin hesitated. "Toi parle francais, oui?" You speak French, don't you? She asked, and Robin nodded.

"Oui." Robin answered quietly. "Comme-ci, comme-ca." She answered the earlier question. She had certainly been better.

"Ah." Danielle nodded and gave her a slightly wry smile. "Je comprendre." I understand. She added, with the stated understanding evident in her voice. She went to folding up laundry. Somewhat curiously, "Qui est le garcon laquelle étais apporter?" Who is the young man that was brought here?

Robin furrowed her brow. Why did she care to know Lucky's name? "Il s'appelle Lucky. Lucky Spencer." His name is Lucky Spencer.

"Et pourquoi laquelle étais apporter? Toi saches?" And why was he brought here? Do you know?

What was she getting at? Why would a servant care to know why they had been brought. "Non. Je ne faire pas." No. I don't.

Danielle finished her folding and didn't speak again until she was about to go. Then, with thoughtful blue eyes, she began, in musing speech, "A propos, ta mère échappait nuit dernier." By the way, your mother escaped last night.

"Quoi?" What? Robin looked up, startled, but Danielle had gone, leaving Robin wondered if her ears were playing tricks on her; had she heard right? Had Anna escaped?

Main Hall
(Faison's Manner)

"Inferior guards," Faison muttered. "Where did you find all of this impossible so-called help anyway."

"Many of them came from small towns just south of Avignon or seaside towns near Toulon, along the Gulf of Lyon." Stefan answered. "And the guards and servants are quite competent, and more importantly, they're loyal." Stefan said dryly. "This was a fluke, no doubt brought about by faulty management; but that's not important. The important thing now is to rectify the situation."

"By this time, she may have made landfall," Faison said tersely. "If she has, it will be too late."

"It's never too late. What does she really know anyway?" Stefan stated. "Does she know how to find her way back here? Probably not. She may not even know what country we're in." He pointed out. "If she gets turned around, and who wouldn't in a motorboat over the Mediterranean, she won't have a clue."

"And if she doesn't? If she's already at land, just miles away from here, on another island or on the mainland of Greece?"

"Then there are dozens of Greek Islands for them to search, both private and public. Who would ever think to look at any of the Cassadine Islands? If they ask, all the guards and servants are French, all newly hired just a couple of years ago when we relocated her and Robert, remember? Anyone who's ever been on a Cassadine Island knows we have Greek servants."

"Our plan is unraveling," Faison muttered. "If the guards had done as they were told last night instead of taking care of that false emergency--"

"If they were not trained to take care of possible emergencies, they would not be security." Stefan said simply. "They'll find her. We will succeed."

Alexis'
Suite

Alexis bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at the stack of papers before her. She skimmed the pages briefly, sighing and shaking her head a little as she did so. She nearly jumped at the knock on her door, and then she slowly took off her glasses, placed her papers neatly on the table in front of her and called, "I'm coming."

Opening it, she was surprised at who she saw, "Nikolas!" She said, her surprise turning to a slight smile. "What are you doing here?" She paused briefly. "I'm sorry. Come in." She invited, opening the door, and he did.

"Thank you," Nikolas said politely, entering. "Um, how have you been lately? At New Year's, everyone was a bit surprised to see that you and Mr. Jacks were...not together."

"Well," Alexis said, shaking her head a little and taking a breath, "That's a long story, and you didn't come here to hear it." She said softly. "You didn't come for chitchat about my marital status; there's something important, isn't there?" She asked, and he smiled.

"Am I that transparent?"

"Well, I would prefer to think that I am that perceptive," Alexis said with a smile and a shrug. She said down, and Nikolas did as well. She turned serious. "Now, what's going on?"

"Mrs. Landsburry's cousin, Penelope, who works on the smallest Cassadine Island, Clio." He started. "Well, Mrs. Landsburry was trying to call her, and she didn't reach anybody on Christmas. She didn't think anything of it, tried again on New Year's, and still there was no one to answer the phone. Well, she commented to me that it was odd just the other day, and I definitely thought something was wrong." He paused, taking a breath. "Uncle was away, and he still is, but I thought I should act immediately, so I... I had it looked at. Clio is empty. I mean, it's like a ghost town. The buildings are completely uninhabited. There's nobody there. And I had the other eight islands canvassed as well." He paused. "The three main islands, Thalia, Calliope, and Polyhymnia appear to be normal. Clio is empty, but everything is still standing. Melpomene is odd... Only a few boats come and go each day, but it seems to be inhabited."

"Seems to be?"

"Security is very tight. My surveyors couldn't actually get on the island." He paused. "That's what I'm worried about."

"And the other islands?"

"The uninhabited ones were only briefly scanned, but they appear to be the same, and Erato is peaceful. Many of the servants have left, some without notification and some leaving word first, but things appear stable." He paused. "Uncle is away, and I haven't been able to reach him. I don't know what to do, Alexis, but this all doesn't sound right."

"No, it doesn't sound right. It doesn't sound right at all. Someone is using our islands for something, or at least they're using Melpomene." Alexis said softly. "Do you know how long ago the changes took place?"

"On Clio it wasn't long ago, but there's indication that it happened years ago on Melpomene and that things were disquieting on Erato for at least a year." He paused. "I don't understand. Why didn't anyone notice?"

"Because Melpomene is the perfect island to take over." Alexis said slowly. "We never use it." She paused. "No, we wouldn't notice. It'd be strange if we had. Now, the question is: who's using Melpomene and why?" She paused. "And what happened on Clio and Erato? And where's Stefan?" She added, biting her lip in thought. "This is a mess, Nikolas. You were right to come to me."

"So what do we do now?"

"Well, we have to keep trying to reach Stefan," Alexis said simply, the wheels in her head turning furiously, "Who knows? It could be something simple that he approved, though it still sounds disconcerting. And we should dig into Helena's documents, the ones from just before she took ill; this might have been her concoction. And then," she added, "someone will have to investigate further. On the islands."

Paris, France:
WSB Headquarters

"I will tell you just once more, Monsieur, that we are doing all we can," Agent Du Noir, the chief of WSB headquarters in Paris, France, stated, glaring at Mac. "We will keep you posted on our investigation into your niece's whereabouts, but at the moment we know nothing."

"We understand that," Felicia jumped in quickly, taking Mac's arm. "I'm sorry... We've just been so worried. Thank you for all that you're doing. I'm sure you're doing an excellent job, and you'll find Robin soon. Contact us when you know anything, anything at all." She said, leading Mac away.

"He's keeping something from us." Mac said, narrowing his eyes. "I know he is. Why did you drag me away?"

"Because you're alienating him and everyone else here," Felicia said pointedly, "And then they'll be reluctant to give you anything. Is that what you want?"

"They don't understand Faison. I do." Mac said, annoyed. "They need my help, whether they know it or not. They're doing everything wrong."

"No," Felicia said, sighing and shaking her head. "They're doing everything they can. They're looking at it objectively, and they're searching for him, and for Robin. And they're not getting results yet, but they are getting leads. They'll find her, Mac, and they'll catch Faison; but it's just going to make it that much harder if you stand in the way. You can't look at this objectively. All you're going to do is play right into Faison's hands."

Tables Outside
Kelly's Diner

"Hey, stranger," Elizabeth said looking up at Jason with a dull smile as he came out of the diner, carrying a cup of coffee, and approached where she was sitting, "I haven't seen you in a while. I heard you were out of town."

"I was," he said simply, "but I'm back now." He added with a shrug. "How've you been doing? I heard about Audrey."

"I've been better," Elizabeth admitted. "My parents want to bring me back to Europe with them, or send me off to London with Sarah. They won't even let me finish off the school year. And I only have a little over one semester left until I'm out of high school."

"Maybe there's still a way. Or if you really want to, you can always come back after this semester."

"I will, definitely," she said, as he sat down across from her. "I want to enroll in the art department at PCU. It's small, but it's good." She said softly. She paused, smiling a small smile. "You know, I used to want to go to some fancy art school in Manhattan, but... well, things changed...when Lucky died." She said softly, simply. "And Port Charles just feels like home now. I like living here. I feel like...like I belong." She paused. "The first time I ever felt like I belonged anywhere was with Lucky, but then it became Port Charles. I've never belonged with my parents, or with Sarah. I always felt...set aside, you know?" She paused. "I wish I knew something to do, to stop them from making me leave, to make them understand." She said, sighing. "What do you think?"

"If you feel like you belong here, you've just got to do everything you can to stay," Jason said softly, "no matter what anyone says." He paused. "It's hard finding somewhere you belong. You may only get the chance once, and if you leave, it might never be the same," he said, knowingly.

Puerto Rico:
Santiago Home

Juan bit his lip as he reached into the mailbox. He flipped through the letters, not very hopeful. Bills...junk...business...a letter from Aunt Beatriz... And then, in a small, white envelope, he saw it. It was post marked about a week ago, and his address was written in her elegant script, with a dark green pen. "Emily," he said with a half-smile, tucking the letter in his backpack before he walked into the house with the mail.

An Uninhabited
Island, Location Unknown

The sun was beginning to set by now. Dusk was rolling in swiftly, and Anna shivered. She was soaked. The boat was nearly ruined. She sighed as she pulled it up to the shore and hid it deftly as she could, under some brush. She wondered where she was, and if this was any better than where she had been. Now she didn't have any food. She didn't have any water. And this island appeared to be deserted and a complete wilderness. She was as defenseless here as she had been on Faison's Island, and as helpless as she had been to help her husband and her daughter.

Port Charles, NY,
June 22, 2029

Felicia's
Study

"What island was it?" Hope asked, and it was an odd question for her because it held no bearing on her goal. Hope was a very goal-minded person; true, she could be curious, but above all she was focused, except for this question which sounded as though it had been asked by a little girl, listening to fairy tales.

"The Cassadines called it Euterpe, I think," Felicia said simply. "It was uninhabited. It was complete wilderness, and it was huge, according to Anna, much bigger than Melpomene."

Hope smiled the tiniest of wry smiles. "Melpomene? That was where Faison kept them? That's ironic." Felicia looked a bit confused. "Melpomene is the Greek muse of tragedy." Hope explained.

Felicia smiled too, but it was an unhappy smile. She sighed. "Well, Faison did have a twisted sense of humor." She paused. "Who was Euterpe, then?" She asked, curiously.

"She was the muse of lyric poetry, sung to the music of the flute – poems of prayer, usually, to the gods."

"Well, Euterpe answered Anna's prayers."