A/N - sorry for the long cliff hanger! Here's the next chapter:
"Come now,
Christine - you can not sleep all day. You're wearied out from last
night, I know...but we got a long day ahead of us." Christine
heard, the voice right next to her ear.
Her eyes fluttered open,
greeting the bright light of the morning. She did not look up to see
who had said those words to her, too afraid that her hopes would be
shattered. But it sounded did like him! Just like him...
Tears
came to her eyes as she felt his breath on her cheek. Looking slowly
up, she gasped loudly. It was him! It was Erik! She threw her arms
around his neck, wondering if his figure would dissolve away in a
fading dream - but he didn't disappear! She cried out in joy,
hugging him closer.
"How? How did you escape?" She asked.
Erik's eyes were dancing, even when she asked such a question.
"You heard him - everyone knows I'm a great magician. No great
magician is ever caught off guard." And with that, he slowly pulled
back his cape to reveal a thin-handled sword sheathed in leather.
"But you couldn't possibly have hid that from me while we
were riding. How..."
"Magician." He said with a coy grin.
"But then where did you get it? I know you didn't have it at
the Opera house - you hardly had food."
"A slight souvenir
from the mantel piece from the last hotel. Thought we might need it."
"How did you...I don't understand. Your escape..."
"I
am a master in many things. This was not the first time I had my life
threatened, I assure you. And many people of much greater stature has
tried to claim my life, and yet I stand before you today."
Christine
smiled weakly, but it quickly faded into a worried frown. "But how,
Erik? Did you...will they find a..."
"I did what I had to. Do
you not understand the fact that he would have kept to his word? He
would have came after us again, and that time...he wouldn't be as
nice. A man...a man will do anything if he is desperate enough."
"What if they find him? Will the police know he was..."
Somehow, ever since the man had called Erik a beast and a murderer,
she could not say the word 'murder'. It was too painful for the
both of them.
"They'll find him a few dozen yards from the
dirt road. They'll see that it was an accident that killed him; his
horse started to go wild, and the wooden harness of the horse's
came loose. He tried to put the strap back on the knob of the wagon.
Instead, he lost his footing, and became entangled with the horse's
wild hooves." Erik said, emotionless and not meeting her eyes.
"But the way you did it...will they suspect?"
"The way
it looked how it happened, he'd have many cuts and gashes. One to
the neck would not look out of place."
Christine nodded, looking
away. She felt sick to her stomach. The image of what he had
described, the foul smell of him behind her, the sharp dagger digging
into her neck. She had no mirror, but she knew that it must have left
quite the mark. Looking at Erik's own neck, she saw it raw and red;
as well as his wrists. She wanted to cry, they looked so painful.
Instead, she ripped a piece of her skirt off and dipped it into the
river, then came back to Erik. Slowly, she took his hand in hers and
gently washed the wounds that seemed to sink into his skin. He winced
lightly, showing pain only for a second before he put on an
emotionless face.
"As much as I would love to sit in a peaceful
valley as you care for my wounds all day, we really must be going. If
we learned nothing last night, we learned that we can no longer only
fear just officers. There are many desperate men with hurting
families in these areas who will do anything to help them get by.
That man whom attacked us was doing what any of them would. We must
flee these areas as quickly as possible." Erik said.
Christine
nodded. Finishing washing the visible dirt from the raw spots, she
dropped the material and went to help pack the saddle bags again. But
as she turned to put them on the horse, her eyes widened. This was
not their black horse. Instead, it was a chocolate brown one, with a
white star at it's forehead.
"Erik?" She said, turning her
head to him but keeping her eyes glued to the horse.
"The man
was right; we were killing that poor horse. We needed a new one. The
man had little money, but he did keep his horse well. He's in
excellent shape, a fine breed. We'll have to be easier on this one.
If we are, he'll easily last us to our destination."
As
tempted as she was, even opening her mouth to say it, she refused to
ask where they were going. She had decided that she didn't care. As
long as he was going with her, she would go anywhere.
"What
happened to the old horse?" She asked instead.
Erik grinned, as
if he knew her struggle for silencing her other question. But then
the returned to being serious. "I let him free a little farther
down the road than where the wagon is. I urged him to keep going.
Hopefully he is a distance away now."
"But wont the police
find him?"
"I'm sure they will, if they are half as good as
I give them credit for."
"But the theater horses...don't
they usually..."
"Have a burned marking on them? Yes, they do.
And ours was no exception. They'll know that we stole the horse and
had to leave him behind from his condition. Hopefully the horse will
be far enough away from the wagon that they wont suspect to hard.
Once they find the horse though, they'll nurse him back to health
so he'll be just a good as when we took him. He wont die this way,
even though a second horse would have helped us immensely."
She
nodded and strapped on the saddlebags. But just as Erik was mounting,
he stopped, then looked back at Christine.
"You should take off
that dress." He said softly, looking at it up and down. He didn't
meet her eyes, as if afraid to hurt her feelings. Why?
She looked
down and saw it covered in mud and dried blood from the same scrapes
and cuts she recieved when she was pushed.
Nodding, she walked
over to the river and carefully took it off, revealing the black
dress underneath. Taking off the extra layer seemed to help her to
really breath now - that blue dress added quite a few pounds to her
slight body.
By the time it was off, Erik had tied their new
horse to the tree again and had built a fire.
"Throw it to the
flames." He said as he crouched by it, feeding it small sticks.
She
stared at it for a moment, not quite wanting to give it up. It was
her last tie with Meg. But she knew if anyone found it, they'd
know. So she shut her eyes and threw it in, the flames licking it
lightly at first, then devouring it before Erik threw water on the
fire and stomped out the embers.
Then he quickly mounted the
horse and helped her up.
"Get comfortable; we have a ways to
go." He said simply. She nodded, though in this saddle...in any
astride saddle, it was impossible to get comfortable as she sat side
saddle.
"Ready?" He asked her.
Faking a smile and hiding
her discomfort, she nodded, and the horse lurched forward.
"Who
is he?" Christine asked suddenly, when the questions in her mind
became to much for her.
They had stopped by a small creek. The
horse was drinking gaily from in as Christine stayed by it's side,
stroking it's neck absentmindedly.
Erik, who had been digging
in the saddlebags, put his head up and pee red over at her from
behind his shoulder.
"Nadir?" he asked after thinking a few
moments.
Christine nodded. "You told me to go to him, and that
he'd know me. Who is he?"
Erik straightened, a small grin
playing on his lips. "You are inquisitive, aren't you? But I was
wondering when you'd ask. He's an old friend of mine. Well, he
used to be. Like I said before, my life was threatened by greater
people than lowly farmers. A king of Persia was one of them. Nadir
was a daroga in those days. Do you know what a daroga is? It's a
chief of police. Nadir watched over me for the king, until the king
decided I was too genius for my own good, and wanted me dead. Nadir
made a compromise with me; if I promised him that I'd never killed
another person again outside of self defense, he'd let me go. If
not, he'd lead me to my execution. Needless to say, I suppose, that
I promised. Ever since he was released from the Persian jail after
letting me go, he's been watching me closely. Any news of the Opera
Populaire, he knows about. He knows of the suicides, the awkward
deaths, the mysterious going ons. He is no longer a daroga, but he
acts still like one. He knows about you as well. But I have not seen
him since a year or so before the Populaire fire, which I caused.
It's quite easily to presume that he wont be very pleased with
me."
"Does he know about me the same way he knows about the
deaths? By reading?" Christine asked.
"No. He knows you were
my student; I have talked to him since he arrived in Paris. But
trying to persuade him to believe me when I say you are here on your
own accord, let alone begged me to let you come...well, it will be
your words that will convince him, not any of mine. He was my friend,
my companion, but I fear he is like all the rest; under the
impression that I am nothing but a bloodthirsty beast, incapable of
showing or receiving any kind of love from a woman. And by you? A
beautiful, young soprano that could of have the rich Vicomte? It may
take years to make him believe."
Christine just stared at him,
surprised he had revealed so much. Then, timidly, she asked, "Then
why do we go there; if he will be so hard on you? And that if he acts
like he's still the chief of police, wouldnt he be just the person
we'd be best to stay away from?"
"Precisely, Christine. On
any other occasion than this. But see, we are in need of his...other
services." Erik said, flipping over the saddlebag he was digging
into. All that fell out was an apple and a few morsels of stale
bread.
"That's it?" Christine said softly, looking at the
food.
Erik seemed angry with himself as he stared down at it too.
"That's it."
With that, he succumbed into silence, staring
down but seeing nothing. Christine stood uneasily, watching him and
waiting. What was he thinking about so hard? His shoulders were
stiff, as was the posture of his back. One hand clenched the empty
saddlebag still, as the other was in a tight fist. His eyes were hard
and narrow. Whatever he was thinking, Christine was sure it wouldnt
be good for her.
"Go back." His deep voice suddenly sounded.
Christine's head flew up, looking at him with wide eyes.
"What?"
"Go back...back to your home. You can do it yourself
- just get on the dirt road and follow it back to the last town.
There's many officers. Tell them that you escaped me; that you want
to go home. Or, if you really don't want to do it by yourself, I
can lead you to Nadir - he'll take you back. I've done many wrong
things in his eyes, he'll just see this as another addition to his
list; I'm sure he's marked it already. But he couldn't really
blame me. After all, what was I to do? I'm only a feelingless
monster who cant help but want an innocent girl to play a part for a
while, am I right?" He said angrily, but his fury was not directed
to her. He looked up at her, his body and complection stern, but his
eyes sorrowful and asking forgiveness.
She stared back at him in
shock. A thousand words streamed in her head, begging to be let out
from her lips. Yet, only one did. "No!" Seeing Erik taken aback
at the sound of her stern yell encouraged those words to slowly form
into sentences and to come out. "I'm not going back. I don't
want to-"
"You don't belong here!" Erik interupted. "I
raised you for the stage! For you to be where everyone can admire
your great beauty and voice. Not here. Not where you will go to
waste. I promised to keep you from starving, yet you eat less than
ballet rats when they are dieting and training! You lost many pounds,
I can feel it when I lift you. And we haven't even been gone very
long! I skip meals so you can eat more, and it's still not much.
Living on just my love is not enough, Christine. If we keep going the
way we are, you're going to be dying from it. And I wont watch you
wither away right in front of my eyes!" Erik exclaimed, showing
more passion than he had in a long time.
"Then I'll die!"
Christine yelled back. "I rather be here than anywhere else. I've
never complained of not getting enough food or of anything to you.
I'm doing just fine!"
Erik just stared at her. When he
replied, it was in a softer, hushed tone. "You've changed greatly
over the years. The Christine I used to know would never think of
defying me."
"And you told me that there was little you could
deny me. This was not one of those things that you had to refuse. You
promised to accept my decision."
"No. I wont force you to go
back, but I will beg. Once I thought that I was much higher than
begging, but for you and your safety, I shall lower myself. But I
realize now, at least at this point, I can not accept your
decision."
"Lower or higher yourself as much as you want, but
I will not accept begging if you wont accept my plea. Therefore, cast
me away, let me not on your horse. But I will follow you. Come snow
or rain, thunder and lightning, I'll be behind you the whole
way."
Erik looked away. Was that a grin she saw? "Do not pride
yourself in being so different than when you were a teenager, my dear
- your strongest point then is still yours now - you are still very
stubborn."
"Oh, but that why I pride myself. In my eyes,
stubbornness is a very good thing."
"Then I suppose, it is in
mine."
Christine walked over to the horse, petting his neck
before looking back at Erik. "Shall we?"
He shook his head and
sighed. Never had he lost an argument with anyone before. Always he
came on top. So why was it now that he couldn't win a single
one?
"You'll be the death of me, Christine." He said as he
approached her, but with a smile. She grinned back, knowing full well
that she had won, and that this small victory was hers.
"Thank
you." She whispered as he hauled her up to the
horse.
