Warning: this chapter contains violence.

Chapter 14 Encounter

That Sunday morning, Jade walked the back passages of the opera house alone. The silence and dim light were soothing. She was enjoying being there, away from the tiresome activity of others. There was an otherworldly quality to the place that gave her the same feeling that she had when she was swimming underwater for long stretches at a time: that of being encased yet powerfully free. Her lantern cast a small glow ahead that touched the rough-hewn walls. As she walked further inward, the darkness deepened.

She listened carefully as she moved through the passageways, watching for rats, ghosts and humans who didn't belong there. In her right hand was a long, heavy walking stick, and in her pocket was a knife.

Yesterday, Pierre had told her the tale of the man who had once haunted the opera house, and who had left his mark.

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When he finished the tale, Pierre sat back and watched for Jade's reaction. She was sitting at the café table in a reverie as she looked through the window to the street beyond.

"So, it was a love story of a sort?" she asked him and the café and nobody in particular.

Pierre looked at her curiously and then answered her. "If it was, it was one sided with tragic results."

"What did the man look like? Was it really horrible?" She asked it with idle curiosity, as if the answer were irrelevant.

"DuChant never said."

Jade moved in her seat, and continued to stare out the window as if she were watching a performance. Her hands were placed in front of her on the table, one upon the other. She appeared very relaxed and undisturbed by the news.

Moments later, she looked up at him. "Pierre, was he the real reason you decided to take a room so close to mine?' she asked with a lift of her right eyebrow.

He smiled at her and shrugged. "Yes," he said. What was the point of lying? If she felt angered by his strategy then this was as good as anytime to deal with it.

Jade looked at Pierre for a few seconds, then turned back to the street. Should I mention the footstep in the passageway? She decided against it.

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Opera Ghost. That's what he had called himself.

She continued onward, mapping out the area. There was an occasional inconsistency between the actual passages and the architectural plans that she had studied on Friday. Some modifications had been done. She wondered why.

After a couple hours of exploring, she found a widening of one of the passages that was a good place to have lunch. With her back against the wall, she munched on bread and cheese, and reflected on the last week.

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The stallion was as wild as she had at first thought. He fiercely attacked anyone who approached his stall. Cleaning out the stall and providing fresh water had been difficult. Rascon had devised a technique where he would drop a noose on the animal's head from above, and then tether him temporarily until basic things could be done. In the mean time, the stallion would thrash about and scream until the work was completed. Rascon hated the whole process and cursed Meley each time it was necessary.

Meley had paid one visit to the stable to examine his new acquisition. When he had moved towards the horse, the animal had immediately charged him. His eyes hardened as he was forced to quickly back away. Standing at a safe distance, he had fingered the whip he carried, and had glowered at the animal. Later, Rascon explained the rope trick to him, and the two men discussed it briefly. Then they left the stable, stood outside of the main entrance, and talked for another five minutes before Meley left.

Rascon had warned Jade to stay away from the stallion. On that matter, she didn't dare to openly defy him. During the day, she left Rascon to his own devices when it came to the horse. Nighttime was a different matter. When it was dark and she was sure that Rascon and the stable hand were gone, she returned to the stable to work with the stallion.

She used various tricks to win him over such as sugar, singing to him, and standing closer to his stall until he became accustomed to her presence. Perhaps it helped that she was a woman and smaller than a man. There was nothing threatening about her. Last night there had been a breakthrough, and the horse had allowed her within two feet of him. Standing there and looking into his large eyes, she felt a deep peace in his presence. He was living, breathing perfection, a testimony to the grace and beauty of wild things untouched by humans. If he had been hers, she would have never ridden him. Instead, she would have given him a herd of mares, and spent endless days watching him race among them in triumph.

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Jade finished her walk through the passages. It had revealed no ghosts or mad men, only handfuls of spiders and rats.

It was her day off and she had planned to take one of the horses for an extended ride. The passage she was in would take her to another one and then to another, and finally to the stable. As she turned the corner, she heard a distant sound. Strange. It sounded like singing but it wasn't a human voice. Sirens, she thought. Yes, that is how I'd imagine sirens would sound like if I came upon them at night.

She felt a chill along her spine, and her heart began to beat harder. Unconsciously she picked up her pace, and was trotting down the passageway towards the sound.

The sound changed. It was no longer the song of sirens. It was screaming.

A terror arose in her. As its urgency gripped her mind, rational thought began to recede.

She burst out of the hallway into the stable where the sound was coming from. It was high pitched but softer, and fading with ragged breaths in between. She ran to its source.

Dashing into the stall, she saw blood. It was splattered on the walls and slicked the stall floor. The man who stood at the end of the stall was covered in it. His back was to her as his arm rose and fell while the whip cut at the flesh of the dazed and shuddering horse.

The blood filled her senses, and took over her mind.

Without thinking, she raised her heavy stick over her head, and brought it down upon the man's head. There was a cracking thud as it hit bone. The whip fell from the man's hand as he staggered backwards and fell to the floor. There he lay on his back looking up at her with unseeing eyes as he faded towards unconsciousness.

Jade stared past the still figure, unaware of what she was about to do next. Her arms raised the stick again and the weapon swung in an arc over her head as it prepared to crush the man's skull.

Suddenly, she was pulled backwards and up. Twisting into the air, she was gripped by an iron force. Then her head and nose were bouncing against an unknown surface as the floor rushed below her eyes. She was moving but she wasn't moving her legs. Her arms wouldn't work, and she couldn't feel them. She was trapped.

With a convulsive jerk, she flung herself about in order to escape. But the iron grip held her firmly. She had no sense of time or place, only a primal need to free herself. Panting heavily, she struggled and growled as she instinctively threw all of her strength against the force that held her. Then a glimmering of her rational mind sensed a shifting, a door opening, and her body suddenly lying against the smooth surface of a floor. She was in total darkness.

As Jade lay there, she eventually came back to herself. That mindless part of her that had fought against the force that restrained her, and struck the blood stained man disappeared.

She was alone, and could not move her arms. She was beginning to realize that she was in a very bad situation.

Her hands were bound behind her, but her feet were free. Getting to her feet, she cautiously moved through the space. She found a door, and tried to work its handle with her head and shoulder. Then she lay on her back, and tried to open it with her feet. No luck.

Continuing to explore the room, she looked for a sharp edge that she could scrape the binding against and free her hands. She found what might have been a table edge. Gritting her teeth, she furiously worked her hands against the edge, and refused to think of what would happen if she didn't get free.

She still felt dazed. Something had happened before this room but she couldn't remember what it was.

Then she heard the lock turn in the door. Quickly, she leaned her back against the wall that was opposite from the door. Turning her head to the side, she lowered it, and waited.

The door opened. The dim light of the hallway framed the tall figure that stood there for a moment. Then the door was closed and a lantern was lit. She watched him out of the corner of her nearly shuteyes as he turned and faced her. Closer he came until he was only a few feet away.

Her head came up and she sprang at him. She caught his midsection with her knee, and he tumbled to the floor. Leaping over him, she headed for the door. Then she tried to grab the door with her bound hands. He was on her before she could open it.

His gloved hand was across her mouth and his masked face was within inches of her own as he pressed the full weight of his body against her, and pinned her to the door. His lips were close to her ear when he spoke softly. "This is not the public place that you requested but I am afraid that it will have to do, Mlle. Bouta." With that, he released her and stepped back.

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She was exploring the passageways with her lantern when he came upon her. He was on his way to the floors above. In his pocket was the letter that he had composed the week before in response to her letter. He had intended to slip it under her door this afternoon.

Jules had been absent in the last week because of a crisis in his family. It had forced him to do his own shopping and other errands. That and other matters had caused him to delay giving her the letter.

And here she was nosing about in his tunnels. I should not be surprised. After all, one of her newest interests is architecture.

For the next hour he followed her. She wouldn't be able to get past a certain level in the passages unless she knew the trigger mechanism. And as clever as she was, he didn't expect her to be searching for that.

When her pace changed, he knew she was done. Then she moved in the direction of the stable. She was wearing her breeches so he assumed she was going for a ride.

His sharp hearing picked up the sound from the stables before she did. She was still moving at a leisurely pace when he first noticed it. Then soon, she also heard it and sped up her pace until she was racing along the passages. Bursting into the stable, she ran to a stall as he hung back and watched.

He saw the stick rise and fall and heard its impact. Then there was the thud of a body hitting the floor. Rushing forward, he was behind her as she raised the stick a second time.

Grabbing her from behind, he pulled her up and out of the stall, and tossed her onto his shoulder. Her face thumped against his back as he bound her hands with his lasso.

At first, she was caught off guard and was motionless. As he moved toward the passages she began to struggle with considerable strength. An instinctive reaction of a trapped animal, he thought, as she began to frantically heave her body about. Her struggle reached a level of ferocity that made him consider cuffing her into unconsciousness in order to be able to continue to carry her.

He deposited her in a storage room that was in a quiet area where her cries wouldn't be heard. She hadn't screamed or cried out but he didn't want to take any chances.

Moving quickly, he returned to the stable where he untied the horse, and carefully helped him to the floor. The man was still unconscious, and lying face up with his eyes closed. Dragging him by his feet out of the stall he placed him in an adjacent, empty stall. As he looked down at the still form, he clenched his fists. He wanted to kill the man. What he had done to the horse was loathsome. In addition, he had forced an unanticipated encounter between himself and the woman that had disrupted his well-laid plans. For that alone, Meley deserved death.

There was no time to deal with him. He could do that later.

He returned to the horse that was breathing heavily and looked as if he might be going into shock. Tossing a blanket over the animal, he tended to its wounds.

Later as he approached the storage room, he was thinking of possible scenarios that might occur. She hadn't seen his face. When he bound her and removed her from the stable, she was in a state. It was possible that she wouldn't remember what had happened there. The wisest thing would be to unlock the storage room door so that she could leave when she was ready.

But he was concerned for her safety and the mental state she might be in. Her reaction to the whipping of the horse had been a break from the rational mind. He had to be sure that she had not hurt herself. He would have preferred to bind her feet as well as her hands before leaving her alone but he was concerned it might further her adverse reaction, and push her closer to madness.

He slowly opened the door, and looked into the room. His catlike vision enabled him to see her there. She was leaning against a wall with her face turned to the side and her head to her chest. Shutting the door, he lit the lantern.

He approached her carefully in order to better examine her. He didn't want to frighten her.

Suddenly her head came up, and she flew at him. Next thing he knew, he was on the floor with the wind partly knocked out of him. He caught his breath, and leaped towards her as she tried to open the door. She had seen him and it was no longer simple.

Quickly, he pinned her to the door. As he bent down, he resisted the urge to smile in spite of his annoyance with her for complicating things further. Always a surprise with this one, he thought.

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They faced each other: Jade with her back to the door, and the tall man in the black cape looking down at her a few steps away. His normally gray-green eyes were greener in the lantern light. Jade's pupils were huge from excitement.

Her calm voice broke the silence.

"Opera Ghost, I presume."

A/N: To my dear readers who are kind enough to review, please tell me: was it worth the wait?

To those of you who love horses: unfortunately, animal abuse was prevalent in that time, so I used it to further this story.