XXIX

Erik watched Christine sing from his vantage point. There was something different about her, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It wasn't anything terribly obvious, but it was there and he knew it. She ended the song and waited expectantly for his approval.

"Very good Christine," he said distantly, "go through it once more and you can go."

"Alright."

As she sang he tried to identify what was different. She had grown a bit over the past year or so, but that wasn't it. He nearly growled in frustration and tried to recall how old she was. He had met her when she was seven and it had been over five years since then.

"Was that better Angel?" she asked hopefully.

"It was wonderful Christine," he replied, "tell me child, how old are you?"

"I'm twelve," she replied.

"Of course, of course," Erik muttered, so he had been correct, "thank you Christine, you may go now."

She thanked him and hurried out of the chapel. He sighed and turned away from his vantage before beginning the trek down to his lair. She was twelve years old and giving that it was almost new Years again he guessed that she was almost thirteen. If he remembered correctly her birthday was in January. It was amazing how quickly time passed in the theatre or beneath it. He had often found that time meant very little down bellow, it all tended to meld together.

He was half way back when he changed his mind and went back up. He hadn't surveyed his theatre, or perhaps kingdom was a better word, in a long time and decided to do so. By the time he was back up almost all were in bed.

He started in the front hall and made his way slowly back. Everything was cleaned to perfection. The stage was of course cluttered with spare props from the last performance and was scuffed from the dancers' shoes.

He was making his way back to the stairs when he heard something. A woman's voice echoed through the apparently empty halls. He frowned slightly when he realized that something was wrong.

"No," she grunted, "get away from me!"

Erik glided around the corner to see one of the stagehands holding onto her arm with bruising force. He recognized the girl as one of the older dancers. The man pulled her toward him and she turned her face away in disgust.

"Buquet," Erik whispered, realizing who the man was.

"No!" the girl whimpered, "Get away…"

"Come on," he growled, jerking her back towards him.

"If I were you I would let her go," Erik said menacingly, "or I will be forced to intervene."

Joseph's eyes darted around and caught only the gleam of the white mask as it backed back into the shadows. His grip loosened and the dancer started to run away, straight for the dormitory. He moved to go after her but was dragged back when something tightened around his neck and pulled him to the ground.

"That isn't very wise," Erik hissed, looming over the man who was now lying on his back.

"Y-you!" he gasped, clawing at the noose.

"Me?" Erik asked.

"You-you're the Opera Ghost," he choked, "p-please don't kill me."

Erik regarded him coolly, "No, I won't kill you, I will instead allow you the privilege very few have ever been allowed."

Buquet's eyes widened in terror and a sardonic smiled twisted the lips of the man standing over him, "W-what is th-that?"

Erik leaned in very close and moved his hand up to his mask, "You get to see the face of the Devil's child," he growled, pulling off the mask.

Buquet gave a loud gasp and tried to back away from the face that sneered at him. Then the pressure of the rope was released and he scrambled to his feet, throwing the rope off as he ran. Erik laughed as he dashed away, allowing the cold sardonic sound to reverberate through the halls. Then with one swift motion he replaced the mask and headed directly for the secret passage.

Antoinette sighed irritable as the dancers listened to Buquet's stories. For some reason they all liked the fantastic stories the man told, even if he was normally drunk.

"I was attacked," he said dramatically, "last night, in the halls by the Opera Ghost himself. He was tall and shrouded in darkness and his face…"

"What about it?" Meg asked eagerly.

"He had deaths head, with yellow skin and no nose. He captured me with a lasso…a magical lasso."

"Back to work!" Monsieur Reyer scolded, "and enough of these stories."

"Merci," Antoinette thanked him, "girls to the practice room."

"Do we have to practice today?" Meg asked, "the masquerade is tonight and there won't be any rehearsals for a week."

"All the more reason to practice," Antoinette reasoned, "go now, I will be along in a minute."

The girls all sighed and began to mutter as they headed for the practice room. Antoinette could only chuckle, she remembered those days, being tired of dancing and still having to spend at least an hour practising. But right now she was curious about what Buquet had said. True, the man usually was drunk and if not drunk then hung over, but if Erik had really attacked him she wanted to know.

"Joseph," she called, "that was quite the story you came up with. A bit different from your usual though."

"I'm not making it up this time Madame," he said edgily, "I really was attacked by the Opera Ghost."

"I see," she said sceptically, "I would have thought you'd be dead if he had attacked you."

"No, he said he wouldn't and then showed me his face…it was the most retched thing I have ever seen. Don't believe me Madame? Then look," he pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal the red rope burn he had received from the lasso.

"I see, the 'magical lasso?'"

"Aye, now I got to get back to work, have a good day Madame."

Antoinette nodded and turned to go the practice room. She would have to talk to Erik later, though she had to admit, she was impressed that he had kept his promise and let Buquet live. However she did not like the idea that he was using his face to frighten people, no matter how well it seemed to work.

After the practise was finished Antoinette made her way down to the fifth cellar, where she knew the boat would be if were above the theatre. When she saw the boat bobbing gently on the water she waited, Erik would be back soon.

"Madame Giry," he said before coming into sight, "so now you come to my world to visit. How thoughtful of you."

"It is far easier than finding you up above."

"So, to what do I owe this little visit? I suspect that it is nothing good."

"Joseph Buquet," Antoinette replied.

"Oh him…what about him?"

"You know perfectly well Erik. Attacking people in the dark now? Tell me, so you find it amusing?"

"Terribly so," he replied sarcastically.

"Explain then."

"I will have you know that I was helping one of your girls. Besides, I did not kill him so I do not know why you are so upset about all this."

"Because you should not be using your face to scare people Erik," she replied sharply, "Buquet has turned it into quite the story though. According to him you have death's head."

"How lovely…not even a thank you Madame?"

"For what?"

"Helping one of your girls. You really ought to tell them not to wander the theatre late at night. You never know what drunks are wandering the halls."

"Merci Erik, but next time just choke him until he is unconscious."

"As you wish Madame."

Antoinette gave a small laugh as he stepped into the boat, "Good night Erik!"

"Yes, yes, bonsoir Madame."

Antoinette gave a small sigh and started back up to the theatre. So, Buquet was apparently stalking the halls at night, that wasn't entirely unbelievable. She would have to be firmer in the curfew for the girls then.


A/N: Sorry that this chapter isn't very long and that it took me so long to put it up. I was going to do it last night but I went to see The Full Monty and got back really late. So I hope you liked the short chapter and plase review. Thanks!