Ch. 11: Down Below

For a moment, Riley could do nothing but watch the flames erupt from the ruined chandelier. Her mind was in a dejected state of shock. Others around her were screaming for loved ones and cursing the perpetrator of the gruesome crime. She herself couldn't muster the presence of mind to scream. Chris. Chris! Where was he? That bitch had stolen him right from under their noses! Something had to be done now.

Riley leapt from the box to the floor, landing in a pained crouch. She didn't dwell on the bruising of her heels, but sprinted right over to the chandelier. Mangled bodies were being pulled from under it. Blood, there was so much blood! Riley felt sick to her stomach, but helped partly lift the mammoth piece of metal and glass from the unfortunate victims. Before she could actually make an effort, her arm was nearly yanked out of its socket by an unknown force.

"Stupid girl! Have you lost your wit? Chris was just abducted, damn you!" Riley was sure she had never met this woman before, but knew who she was by reputation. Madame Giry was just as, if not more, notorious than Buquet or Carlotta.

"I-I was just trying to help-"

"Shut up! Just follow me, take this sword, and for god's sake keep your hand at the level of your eyes!"

Riley immediately shut up. This was nobody to be trifled with. Of course she was sick with worry over Chris's disappearance, but where to start looking? The opera house was too vast to even begin to imagine, and the phantom probably had her own world of tunnels and trapdoors where she could hide.

As they continued at the hurried pace along the pandemonium of the wooden hallway, Meg joined them, looking waxy and pale, handing Riley a set of britches and a lawn shirt, while her mother pushed her into a closet.

"Fool! Quickly, change! Those clothes will get you nowhere! You might as well just hand the phantom your head on silver platter! Hurry, now!" Riley stumbled out of the closet and was instantly yanked along the narrow hallway of panicking spectators. Madame Giry refused to speak to her while they were along this path. The older woman then reached a deserted corridor and ran her hand along the mildew-covered wall. She gingerly rubbed of the loose stones and then struck it hard. The wall slid open to reveal a dark tunnel.

"Keep up, keep up! We might be too late already. Dammit, girl, keep your arm raised! Do you want to be strung up like a waterfowl in a butcher's window?"

Riley was still at a loss for words. Meg gave her a wan look, and it hit her.

Too late, she thought wildly, what's going to happen?

"Bugger!" Erika breathed when Chris slipped off her shoulder for what seemed like the eightieth time. The young man was currently unconscious, slung over her shoulders like a side of beef. She corrected the position and continued her decent into the cavern. This potion will have to perfect. The victim is not supposed to turn into a dead weight after administration. Although she didn't like to think that it was trueshe had drugged Chris the moment both of them evaporated from the stage.

When she reached the lake, Erika unceremoniously chucked flung him into the boat. To her alarm and delight, three loud voices were making their ways down her main stairwell.

"B-but what do I do with it? I've never used a sword before."

"Oh, do stop whining. If it gets rough, use it for self defense. Honestly, the nobility can be so daft when it comes to everyday matters."

"Mother! Don't be cruel. She is disoriented from the shock."

Erika narrowed her eyes deviously. Riley was coming, just as she hoped she would, but with Cecile and Meg in tow? This was going to be one hell of a party. And with that final thought, she paddled as fast as possible back to the lair. There was much work to be done before Chris woke up if he woke up, she mused, that chemical was of new invention and potentially fatal.

Halfway down the stairs, Meg and her mother stopped dead in their tracks, staring in a frightened manner at the darkness that lay beyond the warming hiss of the oil lantern.

"This is as far as I dare go." Madame Giry murmured, her face turning ashen. "Go quickly. There isn't much time." Riley gave her a terrified look and sprinted off down the stairs, trying to maintain a grip on the rapier.

Much to her dismay, there was a lake at the bottom of the stairs. Without thinking, she leapt in. What other option did she have? The water was as black as ink and as cold as ice, but it wasn't very deep, therefore easy to wade through. Within moments, she was numb from the cold but plunged onward until coming to a rusty bronze portcullis. Two very familiar eyes gazed at her. Chris was slumped over a fainting chair, to her horror.

"What have you done to him?" She screamed. Her voice cracked involuntarily.

"He'll live, hopefully. Now, come in, I have a game for you." The phantom flashed her evil smile as she held up two wine glasses and a small black vial marked with an ax on the label.

Riley fingered the sword edgily as she sat down. Something was amiss here. Erika swung around to a dusty desk and fooled around with the glasses. When she turned back around, the black vial was empty.

"If you pick the right glass, I'll give you the antidote to whatever the hell Chris went and drank. If you pick the wrong one, "she feigned a look of worry, "you'll die a slow, painful death. Now, drink. I'll have the one you don't pick."

Riley looked at the glasses carefully. They both appeared to be the same. She sniffed the contents. They both smelled the same. Then, when Chris gave a mucous-riddled cough, she quickly picked the one on the left. She could have sworn that it was the safe one. Erika picked up the one on the right.

"Cheers, doll."

Both of the women emptied their glasses. Erika looked completely serene, if not pleased with herself. Then, a horrible wave of nausea gripped Riley, and she fell to the ground, doubling up in pain. Erika began to laugh, then went over and poured a bucket of water on Chris. He instantly woke up, looking disoriented.

"I thought you put the potion in the right glass!" Riley croaked.

"Dear, you underestimated me. I put it in both drinks. The chemical was of my invention, therefore I am resistant to its effects.

"You didn't even drug Chris then, did you?"

"Yes, I did, but it wore off and he was merely asleep."

Chris looked around at the scene that was unfolding before his eyes. He blanched, as though just then catching on.

"You drugged her?" He looked incredulous, as though not believing she would do such a wicked thing.

"Sure did. Now do you want to save her?"

"Yes! Yes! I'll do anything! Just give me the antidote!"

"Excellent. Would you marry me?"

Both of the victims were now at a loss for words.

"You have a choice. You go free and she dies or you stay with me forever and she lives. Take your pick."