Short chapter today… graduation coming up, I'm way too busy. Don't worry, there's lots of action planned for the rest of the week.

Disclaimer: I'm not good enough to own this. Good thing, too, otherwise I'd probably screw the story up completely!

Of Knights and Dragons

Chapter XVIII: Flight

"Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before; they are calling from across a distant shore. Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face?..."

("Into the West" Lyrics)

"Christine? Chirsti—oh, thank God, you're here, you're safe…" Raoul flew through the door in a whirlwind, catching his young wife up in his arms before she could react, before she could do more than return the embrace. Not that she wanted to do more. She leaned against him as he spun her about.

"I've missed you," she mumbled against him.

He laughed and let her go. "It hasn't even been a day, my lovely Vicomtess," he chided.

"A nice 'I missed you too' would be fine," she said with a mock tartness that was ruined by her smile.

"I missed you too, Christine," he replied dutifully, before laughing and drawing her close, placing a swift kiss on her cheek. "You don't know how happy I am to see that you're all right."

"I think I can guess," she replied wryly, straightening her skirts. "Though what you think could have happened to me overnight, I'll never know."

At those words, he immediately sobered, holding her out at arm's length. He was suddenly thankful that they were completely alone in the parlor of the d'Halier Estate. Raphael, in a dark and somber mood after the funeral, had said something about visiting Station 24 for records of Uriel's previous kills. The Persian had likewise vanished, but without the explanation, merely calling after Raoul that Christine would be at the d'Halier mansion by the time they returned.

Raoul looked down into the trusting blue eyes of his wife. "Erik isn't dead, Christine."

"I know," she said without waiting for him to continue. "I dreamed again of him last night, Raoul."

"You… you dreamed… are you certain it was a dream?"

She gave him a withering look. "Of course it was a dream. I was at Captain Doione's house. He wouldn't dare to go there, would he? Besides, it was just like a dream, full of strange occurrences and sensations…"

"Occurrences?" Raoul said harshly.

"Shifting scenes, odd emotions, dreamlike qualities. You know what I mean, Raoul."

"I suppose so," he sighed. "Christine, things are far more dangerous than I imagined. Erik… the Phantom is Uriel." He caught Christine's uncomprehending stare. "The Angel of Death and the Opera Ghost are one and the same person. It's what he's been doing, ever since the Opera Populaire was destroyed."

"It doesn't make sense," Christine said in a small voice. "Why would he do that?"

"He has a history of being an insane murderer, or did you forget that?" Raoul said bitingly. "What's more, he knows I'm here. I was at the Parisian Knights meeting when he killed Charles. And if he knows I am here, he knows you are here as well… how long is it before he comes and tries to take you back? I don't want to go through that nightmare again, Christine. It almost broke me, and I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for you…"

She looked up at him, the pain of a breaking world in her eyes. "The horror, the horror," she said brokenly, and he wrapped her close.

"Come on, Christine, this has gone too far. We aren't safe here in Paris. We should go back… back to England…"

"But if he's turned into Uriel… do you think… do you think that I could save him?" Christine whispered.

She felt Raoul's body stiffen against her. "I don't know," he said in a low, cold, even voice. "I don't know what there is to save. But if there is one person who could do it, it would be you, Christine. If you want to try to save him, then we will stay here. I'll try to protect you, as best I can."

She drew a long, shuddering, indecisive breath. "No," she said at last, and then, more firmly, "no. That part of my past is done with. I'm not going to risk everything we have created for a fantasy that I gave up when I left the wandering, lost child behind me. We should go, Raoul. Back to England, back to Oxford… anywhere. I miss the English hills," she said in a quiet voice.

"So do I," he said, relaxing again. "So do I, my dearest love."