Chapter 3: The Music of the Night

Erik hesitated only a moment, glancing towards the lake over which the mob would come. He could hear the shouting, but it was still some ways off. He looked back down at Christine, and he could not refuse her.

There was no escaping from here. He knew it, and so did she. These moments together might well be their last.

"Very well." He smiled gallantly down at her. "The music of the night."

He released her hand then, turning away momentarily and holding a match to a short candle in a pewter holder. With that candle, he lit another, and another, until all the tapers surrounding the organ were lit and the room was once more bathed in an ethereal light.

Christine stood at the edge of the steps, her eyes wide. He turned back to her and took her hand in his, drawing her into the circle of candlelight. The music came to him as naturally as breath, and with his rich voice, he took himself and Christine back in time.

"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses…"

Christine closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her, face bathed in light. Erik looked down at her, longing to draw her to him, resisting in his persistent notions of unworthiness. Had she ever looked more angelic than she did in this moment? What right did he have to embrace an angel?

"Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor. Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garish light of day. Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light—and listen to the music of the night."

Christine drifted towards him, and his free hand moved up to caress her cheek, touching the soft, glowing skin with something akin to reverence in his eyes and touch. Christine sighed softly, her body swaying as though in a breeze.

"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams. Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before. Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar…"

She felt her spirit rise and take flight.

"And you'll live as you've never lived before."

Had she ever lived before this moment? Had she ever loved until now?

"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness that you know you cannot fight…the darkness of the music of the night."

His rich voice filled her senses, caressed her like a lover's touch, and took complete possession of her. The sweet trance of her angel's music fell upon her, and she was his once again.

"Let your mind start to journey through a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before. Let your soul take you where you long to be…"

Erik looked down at the woman who stood again in his thrall, and he hardly dared believe that his next words, his wildest and closest dream, might have become reality. His voice trembled as he sang again.

"Only then, can you belong to me."

He found courage then, and drew her into his arms as he had done before.

"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication."

He was intoxicated, drunk with the sensation of Christine's body again his, his bare hands running down her sides.

"Touch me…"

She responded to his words, her hands reaching for him, running down his arms, covering his hands. His breath caught in his throat, momentarily choking down the next line of the song as her soft hands closed over his, not guiding, merely covering as he drew his hands over the bodice of her dress, traced the outline of her corset.

"Trust me…"

She leaned against him, her body accepting his caresses, giving in to him, trusting him…

"Savor each sensation…"

Erik closed his eyes too, his voice rising passionately in his throat as he gloried in these moments, however brief, that had been granted to him this night.

"Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in, to the power of the music that I write…the power of the music of the night!"

He was her darker side. He was her soul. The notes echoed around the labyrinth as Erik held Christine against him, her head fallen against his shoulder. He kissed her cheek, grazing her skin with his lips, tracing her jaw and throat before drawing away and turning her to face him. He caught her eyes with his and softly sang the final verse of the song.

"You alone can make my soul take flight. Help me make the music of the night."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, her fingers tracing the lines of his face gently. "That first night that you brought me here, Erik," she whispered. "I had never heard anything so beautiful in my life. I had already fallen in love with your music, but it was that night that I fell in love with you."

He had known it, but to hear her say it filled his heart with an emotion so strong that he felt as though he might burst. He took both her hands in his, his heart pounding madly as he looked down at her.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime."

His voice was tremulous, even more so than it had been when they stood together on the balcony. He could still hardly believe that this was not a dream, and if he was to lose her now…

"Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too. Christine, that's all I ask of you."

Her eyes opened, and when he looked down at her, he heard no screams, saw no tears.

"Yes, Erik," she whispered, her lips trembling. "I want you here with me."

Erik wavered only a moment, his eyes flickering between her wide brown eyes and her pale, slightly parted lips. Her lashes dropped coquettishly, and he bent to kiss her, inhaling sharply when he felt her mouth move against his, her hands reach up to stroke his hair. The glorious sweetness of it seemed to go on forever, until finally she drew away from him, met his eyes for just a moment, and then she lay her head against his shoulder, her body nestled against his. He closed his eyes, lost in a sea of wonders.

A sudden crash broke the spell, and Erik looked across the lake. The voices had grown much louder, too loud, and he thrust Christine from him, his face terrified for her. He turned to the lever on the wall, and all that stopped him was Christine's cry.

"No, Erik! Madame Giry may be with them, and Meg too! Besides…there are so many, Erik! You cannot kill them all! Perhaps Heaven can forgive you the deaths of Buquet and Piangi…but not this, Erik!"

He turned savagely on her. "What care I for Hell, Christine? Don't you see that there is no worse hell for me than living my life without you? And worse than that, seeing you harmed? They will kill you as well as me, Christine! I cannot allow that! I will not!"

"Madame Giry may be with them." Christine repeated calmly. "And if she is, she can make them listen to reason. Don't turn the lever yet, Erik."

"If I don't now, I never can." Erik replied. "By the time Antoinette can reason with them, they will be past it."

"Then don't," Christine said, taking his face in her hands, "and I will die with you if I must. But don't murder again, Erik. You no longer need kill for my love. Wash your hands of the deaths for which you are responsible, and if our deaths are required as payment, then so be it. But I will not leave you, and I cannot permit you to kill again for me."

-

Raoul climbed from the boat and staggered up onto the stairs. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, and then began the slow ascent back up the way he had come. The chanting of the mob grew closer and closer, and then they were there.

They swept around him, hardly noticing him, intent upon their destination. Raoul flattened himself against one wall to avoid being trampled, and in the midst he saw Madame Giry and Meg. They did not see him, and he called out Madame Giry's name, but the ballet mistress could not hear him above the din.

Raoul knew where they were going and what their purpose was, and he wanted to weep. Christine was down there, his beloved Christine…

He turned and started to go after them, but the thought of the icy water and the pain racking his limbs stopped him. Madame Giry was with the mob, he reasoned. She would not let them harm Christine. As for the Phantom…he deserved whatever fate the law or the vigilante justice of the people meted out to him.

Raoul finished that thought, and he smiled. The Phantom would be arrested or killed. Madame Giry would rescue Christine, and once the young girl recovered from the shock, she would remember Raoul. She would remember that he had braved the terror of the Opera Populaire's catacombs to rescue her. She would remember how she had once loved him, and she would return.

Raoul turned and continued up the stairs. "Clever Phantom, you think you've won. But your doom is near, and it will be to me that Christine will finally come!"

-

Erik's hands dropped to his sides, and then encircled Christine. They faced the stairs together, awaiting the mob's arrival.

Christine looked towards the open grate, the lake, knowing that there was their only chance of escape. A new, horrifying thought came to her, and her eyes widened as she looked up at Erik. "Raoul and I took the boat." She pressed her fingers to her mouth. "How were you to escape?"

Erik looked down at her. "I wouldn't have. There's no other means of escape from here, Christine. You and Raoul were to take the only way. Now he has."

Christine stared, dumbfounded, at him. "Would you have really killed Raoul?" She was as surprised by the sudden question as Erik, and for a moment Christine was afraid of what reaction her question might bring. But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm.

"I don't know." Erik answered honestly. "I've done many unsavory things in the throes of my passion for you, Christine, but I'd like to think that I would have freed him, whatever your answer might have been. As much as I longed for you, Christine, I couldn't have borne your unhappiness. I am a madman, but not so mad as to truly believe that by killing your lover I could earn your love."

Christine nodded, and laid her head against Erik's chest, her eyes watching the lake across which their hunters would come. "Raoul is safe from them, and I am with you, my angel. You are my lover now, Erik."

He pulled her closer to him, as though by that simple movement he could protect her from the fury of the crowd that drew closer and closer to them. "Whether or not we will survive long enough to truly earn that title remains to be seen, my dear."

-

"Mother, can't you stop them?" Meg Giry clung to her mother's sleeve, trying valiantly to keep her footing on the slick stairs. She looked from side to side, her eyes wide. The mob had grown, police and civilians alike, all hungry for the blood of the Phantom.

Madame Giry silenced her daughter with a mere tap of a finger on her lips. "Hush, Meg. They will hear you."

Meg was quiet for a moment, glancing fearfully about, the murderous chants of the people and the flickering fires of the torches they carried filling her with terror. "Christine is gone, though, isn't she? She is safe, at least?"

"Christine and Raoul are both gone." Madame Giry replied crisply.

It then occurred to Meg to wonder why they were risking their lives by going with the mob to the Phantom's lair if there was no need to save Christine.

-

Madame Giry wished desperately that her daughter had retained the good sense to stay behind. But the Opera Populaire was in flames, and the girl was hardly likely to stand out in the streets waiting for her mother to return.

Antoinette cursed herself for a fool. She cared little for her own safety, but now her beloved daughter's well-being was in danger as well. If Meg died as a result of her mother's foolhardy attempt to once more save the boy-turned-madman that she had rescued from a similar fate so many years before, the ballet mistress wondered if she would ever be able to forgive herself. Meg was an innocent child. Erik, on the other hand…

He had murdered two men and threatened the life of another. At least, she hoped that all he had done to Raoul was threaten him. Her affirmation of Christine and Raoul's safety to Meg was based on hope, not on fact. She knew that Erik had taken Christine with him, and that Raoul, with her help, had followed. She knew nothing else.

And now, her daughter was in as much danger as she. Madame Giry had no idea of to what lengths the Phantom might go to defend himself. Had his genius truly turned to madness, as Raoul had said? She prayed it was not so. She loved the man as much as she had loved the little boy that she had rescued. In many ways, Erik was still very much a boy.

Despite his deeds of the past weeks, Madame Giry found it hard to believe that he would kill Raoul, and she simply could not accept that he would harm Christine. He must have let them go.

He must have.

-

"The point of no return." Christine murmured softly. "I didn't truly understand what that meant until now. This is the point of no return, isn't it, Erik?"

"There are many points of no return, my love." Erik said, combing his fingers through her hair. "This is one. God grant we may live to see others." He said nothing more.

There was no time to say anything else. The mob evidently had not found the lake much of an obstacle. Torches flickering, a few guttering out and then being hastily relit, they swarmed over the water and onto the shore.

Christine couldn't help herself. She screamed in terror, all resolutions of bravery leaving her as she spun in Erik's arms and hid her face against his chest.

Erik tightened his arms around her and faced the mob with mocking gallantry.

"Messieurs," and he paused, inclining his head to the mob, "and madams, I bid you welcome." He offered a ghost of a mocking smile, and even he was not sure whether he mocked the crowd or himself. "Did you think that I would harm her?"

-

Madame Giry broke free of the crowd, Meg's small hand clenched tightly to hers. She took in the full scene—the boat gone, no sign of Raoul, the Punjab lasso fallen listlessly in the water…and Christine held closely in the Phantom's embrace.

She knew in an instant what had transpired. The Phantom had caught Raoul. Foolish boy, I told him to keep his hand at the level of his eyes. Somehow, Christine had convinced the Phantom to let Raoul take the boat and escape.

The mystery that remained was whether Christine remained with the Phantom of her own free will or no. And then, as she staggered up the shore with Meg, she saw Christine look up at Erik, and Antoinette caught the emotion that filled the young prima donna's eyes.

Madame Giry knew.

-

Meg took in the scene too, and her innocent young mind, knowing that Christine was engaged to Raoul, could not help but believe that Christine was being held prisoner by the Opera Ghost. Her first sight of the Phantom unmasked did not help her image of him, steeped as it was in superstition and Buquet's wild tales. Fear and repulsion filled her eyes, and terror for her friend took over her. "Do something, Mother!" she cried. "Save Christine from the Phantom of the Opera!"

-

"Hush, child!" Madame Giry exclaimed, but too late. An officer standing near smiled at little Meg.

"Don't fear, child." He smirked at Madame Giry. "That is precisely what we are here to do."