Thanks again for the great reviews! And now, I do hate to admit, but the next few chapters do not have that much action. The story will make up for it later hopefully. Chapter Fifteen is half way point in the story if you don't count the epilogue.
Demonmyst: Thanks for the encouragement!
AngelicFlutist: I was afraid that chapter might have been a bit too descriptive, but I'm glad you liked it!
WashoopiCandi: Aaw! Thanks so much! You really made my day!
Ethalas Tuath'an: Okay - you're reviews make me have a deep urge of just hugging you, so. . . I give you a hug! Oh, and I didn't intentionally write the "rescue-thing" from Madame Giry's point of view, it just sorta. . . happened. Glad you liked it!
Chapter Fifteen: In the Arms of an Angel
A soft organ melody woven of glee and a sense of rebirth woke Loralee up that Saturday morning.
Sighing with contempt, Loralee snuggled in closer to the warm silk sheets, drowning in the joyful music.
Wait. . . warm silk sheets?
Organ music!
Loralee immediately sat up, staring at her surroundings. She yelled out in pain from the long cut on her chest she had gotten from Hector.
Hector! Where is he? What happened to me?
Think as she could, she couldn't figure out.
Looking around at her surroundings, Loralee saw she was sleeping in a swan shaped bed with red lush silk sheets and pillows. A black sheen was covering the bed and made the room around her blurry. She was wearing a soft cotton night dress and her hair hung loosely around her face.
I must be in Hector's secret hide out! she thought, terrified.
"Loralee?"
She yelped at the voice speaking out to her, to terrified to register it as musical and kind.
"Loralee, it's me. . ."
"Get away from me Hector!" Loralee shouted, hiding herself underneath the covers when she saw a man walking towards her through the black curtains.
"Loralee. . ."
She didn't see the man pull up the curtains but she curled up into a tight ball when she felt a weight sink down onto the mattress next to her.
"Go away. . ." she mumbled, tears of fear now tumbling out of her shut eyes.
"Loralee. . . It's me. . ."
Erik gently pulled the covers back from Loralee and turned her shaking body to face him. Her eyes were shut tightly and her face turned away from him.
"Look at me, Loralee," he said, kindly, wiping the tears from her face.
Slowly, Loralee took a shuddering and opened her eyes, expecting to see Hector sitting there but was utterly surprised when she instead saw Erik.
It was obvious he didn't sleep at all the past night. Well, she couldn't really tell if it was night or not down here but she guessed it was. He had discarded his cloak, coat, vest, and cravat and instead wore a ruffled and partially unbuttoned shirt with a dark green robe of velvet. His eyes were soft with care and his fingers were red from playing what must have been an organ in the other room.
"Erik?" she said, the single word choked on tears. She quickly wiped them away, straightening up and regaining her composure when she saw who it was.
"Erik, I'm so sorry, I didn't know-"
His finger to her lips silenced her. She looked down, ashamed at her actions, and blushed from embarrassment.
"You need rest, Loralee," he said, pushing her back down gently.
"What happened?"
"Rest," he said, his voice making her eyelids droop down.
"I want to know what happened!" she said fiercely. Then more quietly, "I don't remember anything except Hector entering the room and my dress caught in the mirror."
Erik sighed, leaning back on the head post of the bed.
"I wasn't there for the whole thing," he said, giving into his friends protests. Absent mindedly, he fingered with a strand of Loralee's silky hair.
"I just got back down to my home when Madame Giry came bursting in blaming me for getting your dress caught and making me come back up to release you from the mirror. When we got to the mirror, we saw Hector vandalizing you in the most crude manner with a knife in his hand and blood every where. You had been stripped down to your under dress and were caked in blood."
Loralee shivered, suddenly remembering the details.
"Who was that voice?" she asked. Erik looked at her questioningly. "You know, that voice that came from in-between Hector and I telling him to leave me alone. . ."
Erik had a trace of a smile on his lips as he looked down at her.
"That, my dear, is what I was about to explain."
He took his hand away from her hair and instead fingered with his robe cuff.
"I was about to strangle Hector with my lasso, but Madame Giry stopped me saying you wouldn't like it if I killed. I couldn't just lete Hector treat you like that, though, so I used my ventriloquism and magician skills to save you."
"You mean, you were that voice, and you set off the smoke bomb?"
"Exactly. While you were both in the state of confusion with the smoke, I opened the mirror and Madame Giry took you through, leaving Hector in probably the most confusing situation he'd ever been in."
A faint smile of victory and humor appeared on Loralee's face as she pictured Hector gazing at an empty and blood stained room.
"And then you took me to your home?"
"Yes, the place you are currently in. Five levels beneath the Opera House."
"Amazing. . ." Loralee said, now feeling completely safe. She yawned which brought Erik's attention back to her.
"You should rest."
Loralee didn't argue this time when Erik pushed her down onto the pillows and pulled the blankets up to her chin. The smile was now clearly visible on her face and her eye lids were steadily drooping down. As Erik went to leave, her hand on his stopped him.
"Erik?" she yawned.
"Yes?"
"Why did you do all this for me?" she asked.
"Well, I guess that's what I'd do for. . . for a friend?"
His statement was posed more as a question, as if he was asking Loralee's permission to be a friend. Her answer was a warm smile and sparkling eyes.
"Of course I'll be your friend, Erik. I think I always have been."
"Nonsense," Erik said, almost laughing at her absurdity. He let down the black curtains and walked over to the door. Just as he got there, her voice stopped him again.
"Oh, and Erik?"
"What now?" he said, fingers itching to get to the organ's keys. Her questions were starting to drive him mad.
"Thank you. . ."
Through the black curtain and her drowsy eyes, Loralee could have sworn she saw his first honest to goodness smile.
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"Maman? Where are you going now?"
"I'm sorry, my dear, but I must go."
"But you were away all yesterday night and now you're going to be gone for most of the day! I'm your daughter and wish to spend time with you!"
Madame Giry sighed. She turned around from the door she was about to exit and came back to her daughter, Meg, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
"My dear, I will not be gone all day. Maybe most of the morning, but I promise you that when I get home we can spend the rest of the day together. Maybe even out to lunch."
Meg's pouting face quickly turned into a smile.
"Promise, maman?"
"I promise, darling. Now go back to what ever you were doing."
Meg looked around at the book she was reading but it suddenly seemed uninteresting to her.
"Maman? Can I go visit Beth McLay?" Meg innocently asked her mother who suddenly turned as stiff as a board.
"Maman? Are you all right?"
"What? Oh, yes. . . yes I'm fine. You must not go out and visit Beth, my dear. She is. . . she is ill."
"That's terrible," Meg said. "Perhaps later I shall see her and wish her a quick recovery."
"No!" Madame Giry almost shouted the words and Meg looked at her mother with surprise. Madame Giry suddenly realized what she had done and loosened down, breathing in deeply.
"I'm sorry Meg, but Beth herself asked that she had no visitors. It would be very unwise to not pay heed to her commands."
Meg nodded.
"Now, I must go, Meg. I'll see you later!"
Madame Giry then slipped into the hallway, rubbing the back of her neck and yawning. It was Saturday morning, the morning that she usually slept in on. She did not this morning, though, because of the event with Loralee and Hector last evening. She left earlier this morning instead of her much needed sleep to see how Erik was doing with her.
In Christine's dust covered dressing room, Madame Giry went through the mirror and into the familiar passage way. She navigated her way through the dark with a lamp and soon found herself by the passage way that lead to Erik's house. She went through it but stopped halfway.
There was a light melody drifting through the deep cavern of joy. The sound of the music stopped Madame Giry short because she had not heard such wonders for over a year now and knew that it was his first time playing it for that amount of time.
Erik had started his music again!
And if she wasn't fooled, it was by help of Loralee.
As she started up again, now more quickly to get better sound of the music, it stopped abruptly. Wondering what had happened, Madame Giry hurried on.
When she entered Erik's home, she noticed lots of candles lit by the organ and Erik no where in sight. As she walked up the stairs to see what he was playing, she could hear faint voices in the next room before she saw Erik exit, a true smile on his face.
Madame Giry almost dropped her jaw at the sight of Erik looking like he was finally coming back to his senses and leaving his grief behind. When he spotted Madame Giry by his organ, his smile was wiped away.
"I just put her back to sleep," he said as if she just asked him a question. "There's nothing to fear. You can go."
Madame Giry didn't budge.
"Erik, you're playing music again!"
He just glared at her, warning her not to say anything to do with Christine. She immediately shut her mouth about the music and instead let her gaze wander over to the room that was supposed to be Christine's.
"Can I see her?"
"I already told you, she's asleep. But I guess you can," he said, sitting down at the organ and scratching a few notes onto the paper without even playing them.
Madame Giry entered the room to see a comfortable looking Loralee asleep in the swan bed. The black curtains around the bed were up showing that Erik had just been there and a smile was on her peaceful sleeping face.
Smiling with happiness that Loralee was having what seemed a quick recovery, Madame Giry went over and put down the curtains.
Turning back around, she went to exit Erik's house.
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Meanwhile, five stories above the ground, Meg Giry was getting restless in her room.
The once exciting book now seemed lame and boring, practicing for the newest opera felt the same, and her friend's sudden sickness was bugging her.
Go and see her. She'll want company, said part of Meg's mind. She frowned, pacing her room.
No! she thought back. Maman said that Beth wanted no visitors. I can't betray her wishes.
No visitors? Does that really sound like Beth?
Yes! It does! she replied triumphantly. Beth was very mysterious and secluded at times. It surely wasn't shocking when she wanted some time alone, and she never seemed to venture forth into the public.
Still, your friend will be wanting company. What if she changed her mind and is now begging for a person to talk with or get help from?
Meg bit her lip. Her mind was correct. What if Beth had changed her mind? It was very common for someone to do so when they are sick.
Well, I guess a little peak wouldn't hurt, Meg thought to herself, giving into her mind.
She quickly pulled her hair up with a ribbon and straightened her dress before running off to see Beth. Their room's were rather close by so it only took Meg a few minutes before she was knocking on her door.
"Beth? Beth, can I come in?"
No answer.
"Beth, it's me, Meg. Let me in, please! I've come to see you."
Still nothing.
Meg sighed, thinking her friend was too sick to get up and slowly opened the door.
Stepping inside, Meg called out again in the darkness.
"Beth, wake up. I've come to talk with you. . . And where's the candle? I can't see a thing in here!"
Finally Meg found the candle lying on Beth's vanity as if it were knocked down. She picked it up and lit it with a match she found on her bedside table. When the light filtered through Beth's room, she couldn't find Beth any where.
"Beth? Oh god, don't tell me you're at the hospital."
Meg looked around. She felt the bed and saw it was cold as if no one had touched it all throughout the night. The key to her door was thrown carelessly on the ground and her wardrobe door was slightly open.
When Meg turned around, though, she saw a sight that nearly made her gag.
The basin of water used for washing faces was a dark red color.
The color of blood.
Meg covered her mouth to cut short the scream it was about to issue forth. Looking around, she found red stains of blood on the mirror and ground and a rag stained red from a careless job of cleaning up the blood.
"Oh, Beth. . ." Meg said into her hand. Was it possible for Beth to cough up this much blood?
She turned to leave, but a corner of a dress peaked through the open wardrobe door. It was a lovely blue color and made out of what seemed a soft material hemmed with silk.
Immediately, Meg bustled forward, wondering why her friend would have left such a pretty dress so carelessly in an open wardrobe. Anyone who would see it would most likely attempt to steal it.
Opening the door to tuck it safely back in, Meg found out why.
The dress was torn open, and the entire front of the top was covered in blood with a few splotches on the skirt. Meg had to cover her mouth again.
Beth was most certainly not sick from the signs of this dress, but instead she had most certainly been attacked.
Meg then broke down in tears, crumpling to the ground just as a voice from the door shouted out her name.