A/N: the references in this chapter to Nadir and Persia come from Susan Kay's book 'Phantom'. The book has recently been republished and is now available.

Chapter 25 Confessions

Jade awoke before the dawn. Lighting a candle, she quickly put on her stable clothes. Now that opening night was only a week away, she was spending all of her time in the office and none in the stable. If she hurried, she would have time for a workout.

Running through the back passages, she quickly arrived at the stable. After selecting a halter, she softly whistled to the black stallion that eagerly came to the door. Briskly, she brushed his wide belly and back and minutes later they were out on the bridle path.

She rode him hard. It didn't matter what time of day it was, the black always wanted to run. It was one of the reasons Rascon hated to exercise him—he fought any rider who tried to rein him in. For that reason, he was a perfect mount on that morning. She would need to stay focused, without meandering thoughts. Her mind would be clear of musings that would lead to last night and Erik.

Jade felt secure on top of the big horse as they rushed down the path. Her hair whipped into her eyes and tears flew from their corners. Riding was good medicine, imparting certainty and confidence. Life was always simpler on a horse. People, on the other hand, were much too complicated.

After the work out, she rode back to the stable and watched the sunrise. Its glow spilled over the horizon and opened up distant vistas with clear light. As she watched the sun take the first steps of its inevitable journey and plant itself into the sky, it gave her a feeling of hope.

Tonight she would join Pierre for supper, with Manette, and Jean. They would be dining out at one of the local cafés, a quaint little place that was one of Jean's favorites.

Back at the stable, Jade put away the gear and fed the horse. Then she ran back up the passages to her room. If she hurried, she'd still be able to get breakfast.

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Later that morning, Mme.Truffaut stepped from DuChant's office and sat down behind her desk.

"Well, he's gone," she declared.

Jade looked up and waited. Mme. Truffaut wasn't a gossip like some of the other opera workers, but now and then she'd reveal an important piece of news to her staff.

The older woman gave her two employees a serious look. "Meley's dead."

A hollow feeling suddenly appeared in Jade's stomach. "How?" she asked.

"He died in his sleep, last night. He'd been unconscious for the last three days." The usually stern faced woman had a thoughtful look as she turned her eyes on Jade.

"Where will the funeral be held?" Jade asked quietly.

Mme. Truffaut nodded with a knowing air. "It will be at his family's parish, and it will be worth attending. M. DuChant and the Deschamps will be there, as well as many of the important artists and patrons of the city. Meley made a name for himself in Paris."

Rising, Jade donned her cloak, and left the office to see to the morning deliveries.

A couple hours later she sat in the opera café and stared at a plate of food. The nausea that had begun on hearing of Meley's death was churning through her gut, leaving no room for lunch.

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At the end of the day, Jade walked quickly along the streets. She had left a note for Pierre saying that she would meet him and her other friends at the café. Before she could go, there was something that she needed to do.

The small church sat between tall, newer buildings. Somehow, it had escaped the wholesale decimation of the previous decade, when Napoleon the Third's housing ministry had directed the destruction of many Parisian buildings. Perhaps an influential family had saved the church by a well-placed word to the right bureaucrat. Erik had told her about that period of so-called architectural renewal with icy contempt. He had seemed to take that massive project as a personal insult.

The inside of the church was alight with candles. In the stillness, a dozen people were lined up in two pews near the confessional, as they waited their turns. Jade joined them, and sat quietly as she watched the soft flicker of candles surrounding the altar. The church organ was much smaller than the one Erik had played on last night. Looking at the instrument, she couldn't help but think of the stricken priest that she had left behind.

The confessional was solidly built, and the person closest to it could only hear the slightest murmur from those within. She was relieved that there would be privacy.

When it was her turn, she entered the box and shut the door. Kneeling at the small grated window, she quietly recited, "Bless me father for I have sinned. My last confession was one month ago."

She paused and a signal from the priest's hand told her to go on.

"Father, last night I was in a church with a man. He said that he had the priest's permission to be there in order for him to play the organ. However, after awhile, a priest found us there and told us to leave. The man attacked the priest and I stopped him. I wish to confess my sin of being there with that man in the church, and of not helping the priest afterwards."

There was silence and then the priest spoke.

"Did you know if the priest was seriously injured by the man?" His voice was calm but there was tension beneath.

"The man grabbed him by the throat, but afterwards, he could speak. I believe he was frightened but not seriously harmed," Jade replied. Then she continued. "Father, do you know anything about this? Do you know how the priest is faring?" There was worry in her voice.

After a long pause, the priest answered. "I know of the priest that you speak of. He is uninjured." Then, after a moment, he asked, "Where is the man who attacked him?"

Jade had anticipated that question and was prepared. "I don't know where he lives. We took a carriage from my home to the church, and he left me at my home afterwards. His visits are unexpected. I never know when I'll see him."

She hesitated, and then spoke again. "Father, there is something else."

"Yes. Go on, my child."

"Today, a man from my work place died. He was attacked several weeks ago and severely injured." She paused, unsure how to proceed. The priest cleared his throat, and she could feel him hanging on her words.

"I think I was there, but I don't remember it happening. I've had nightmares since then."

The priest cleared his throat again, and asked, "Was the man you were with last night responsible?"

Jade gripped the armrest as she considered her answer. She'd been struggling with that question all day. Had it been Erik who had attacked Meley? Up until last night, she hadn't seriously considered it. As frightening as Erik had been when she had first met him, she hadn't thought that he was responsible for the attack. But now she was unsure. The man who she saw last night would have killed Meley for trying to beat a horse to death.

Jade answered him. "I don't know father. I believe he has goodness in his heart, but when he is provoked, he loses his way. I dare not judge him."

The priest was silent for a minute, and then finally spoke. "You had no part in either attack. You assisted the priest when he needed you. You are blameless, with the possible exception of your association with this man. Is he a Catholic? Can you bring him to church?"

Jade pondered that question, and remembered how Erik had looked at her last night when she genuflected before the altar. And there were the words he spoke to the priest: "mercy…your god has shown me little of it." Yes, it was very possible that Erik was a Catholic.

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At the café, Pierre, Jean, and Manette waited for Jade to join them. Jean was looking through a book of sketches, as Manette and he drank absinthe.

Manette made a face as she sipped her drink. " I do not think I will ever get accustomed to the taste of this vile liquid."

Laughing, Jean turned to Pierre with raised eyebrows and said, "As you can see, Pierre, my wife does not have an amicable relationship with the Green Fairy." He took another sip of the opaque liquid in his glass, and gave Manette a wry smile.

Pierre watched them without amusement. Up until this year, his family had been untouched by the poor harvest caused by the grape blight. Lucien's vineyard had produced an abundance of good quality wine. But soon that would be over. It was hard for him to imagine drinking that green, bitter tasting liquid that was now being offered as a substitute for wine at cafés throughout Paris.

Jade walked into the café and Pierre raised his arm to her.

The food on their plates was well prepared and they ate with gusto, except for Jade. The sight and smell of food made her nauseous. She nibbled on her bread and sipped the water. It was all she could keep down.

Pierre watched her with a slight frown as she avoided her food.

Jean secretly poked Manette with his elbow and then turned to Jade. "Jade, I've arranged for you to meet with our friend tomorrow after work so that she can measure you for your dress." He turned and smiled mischievously at Manette, who was smiling warmly at Jade.

Jade looked at her friends and dropped the piece of bread she'd been trying to force down. The thought of the dress prompted an intense wave of nausea.

"What dress is that?" Pierre asked gently as he looked at Jade with concern. She just shook her head and looked away from her plate.

"It's for the party next Saturday night. Jade's coming with us." Jean said evenly. His teasing had stopped, and he was watching Jade with curiosity.

They left the café together and walked a few blocks down the street, until it was time for them to part. Jean and Manette went towards their home, and Pierre and Jade headed back to the opera house.

The cool, night air and the emptiness of her stomach decreased Jade's nausea. Pierre's kind voice droned in her ear as he talked about his week. She felt sleepy as they walked, and looked forward to her bed.

Pierre walked beside her, concerned and frustrated. He had waited all week for this time with her and now she was silent and possibly ill. Had she seen the man that she had spoken to him about, her benefactor? He had questions that he wanted to ask her about him, and it didn't look as if that would be happening tonight.

Walking to their rooms, they stopped outside of Pierre's door. Sleepily, Jade looked up at him with her eyes drooping. Suddenly, Pierre reached down and gently taking hold of her shoulders, leaned over and brushed his lips across her forehead. Then he looked intently into her eyes and murmured goodnight.

Jade stared back at him, wide-awake, nausea forgotten.

They gazed at each other for a few moments, and Jade finally said softly, "Goodnight, Pierre. Sleep well."

Later, when she was back in her bed, she thought about Pierre's kiss. So, it has come. It was as she had expected it would be. He was gentle, respectful, and patient. Very patient.

Jade was suddenly bone tired and needed to sleep. She didn't want her life to be more complicated than it already was. She'd spent the day trying not to think about Erik, and here was another twist. She would have to think about Pierre tomorrow when she was clear headed, and no longer sick.

Lying down made the nausea worse. She rolled onto one side and then shifted to the other as she tried to find a position that she could get comfortable in. After an hour, she got up and got dressed. She was tired of being sick, and knew that tonight there would be nightmares as well. It was time to do something about this.

She left her room and carried a lantern, as she walked through the halls of the drafty opera house.

The corridors were long and empty. She felt like a specter haunting the place as she silently passed the many rooms. Eventually she arrived at the Grand Foyer and the great staircase that led to the boxes on the floors above. She climbed the stepd and searched for box five. When she found it, it was pitch black inside. The auditorium below was unlit and abandoned.

Jade touched the pillar that was at the back of the box. It was through there that he had carried her to the secret passage beyond. She ran her fingers along the smooth surface, and searched for a line that would reveal the hidden door. There was nothing, but she continued to search. She followed an imaginary line that ran along the circumference of the pillar, and pressed on every inch of it. It's simply a matter of applying the correct amount of pressure when I find the door's edge, she thought.

When she finished the first line she started the next a scant distance above the previous one. After a couple dozen tries, she heard a faint grating noise, and the door opened.

Cool air met her as she entered the passage. She stepped in and shut the door behind her.

Jade held out the lantern and descended the passageway. The stones beneath her feet were roughly cut, but the walls were surprisingly smooth. The space was narrow, just wide enough to allow the passage of a big man.

After awhile, she arrived at a junction where the passage ended and joined another forming a T. She chose the left branch of the corridor that continued downward, as she followed the cool air.

The excitement of exploration quieted her upset stomach. As she walked, she wondered what part of the opera house was on the other side of the wall. Did Erik regularly use this part of the passages or would she have to get closer to the staff quarters?

Either way, she thought, I will eventually find him or he will find me.

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Earlier that same day, Erik lay in his spacious bed. He had dreamt about her during the night: the light swish of her skirt brushing the steps of the carriage as she stepped out towards him, her green eyes piercing his with a question.

He was lying on his back and watching the paintings on the ceiling shift in the candlelight. The exotic figures wriggled in the lazy haze of smoke that crossed their bold outlines.

Narrowing his eyes, he remembered last night.

He thought he had lost her.

Her panicked voice begging for the priest had cut through him and shaken him out of his fury. Don't torture him, she had cried.

The word torture had stopped him. Then the memories bit into him: the time spent in Persia and the device that he had designed that had killed innocent men and women. It had been the child of his imagination. When he had left the country, Nadir had forced a promise from him, that he would not kill again unless in self-defense.

Erik had briefly watched Jade tend to the priest, and then had left. As he waited for her in the carriage, he had wondered if she would come. He wouldn't have blamed her if she had stayed behind. She had seen the brute in him.

Later, when she sat across from him on the trip back to the opera house, he had looked away, afraid of what he would see in her eyes.

Damn that priest!

It galled him that he had had to take her there. A church, of all places! He had nearly groaned when Jules had first suggested it. But she wasn't ready to come to his home, so he had needed to take her somewhere else in order to play for her. It had been carefully planned. Jules had made the payment to the priest and arranged the details.

The performance was meant to capture her imagination and to draw her to him. He was laying the groundwork for a deeper trust. Instead, it had been a fiasco. She had seen him attack what she revered.

Erik shut his eyes and relaxed into the bed's kind folds. The softness cradled him as he crossed his arms behind his head. He sighed deeply with satisfaction and smiled.

Instead of shunning him, she had touched him.

He could still see her face from the shadowy moonlit carriage. Her eyes had emerged from the darkness and held his in a compelling gaze, and he had forgotten his despair. Then she had firmly held his hands, and the moment of their intimacy was complete.

Later, as they stood in the corridor by the door, he had wanted to touch her, to put his hands around her waist and pull her to him. Instead, he had left. She was again his, and he would handle her gently, delicately, so that he could keep her. He would have to be satisfied with their contact in the carriage, until another time.

He was a patient man. He knew how to wait.

Erik opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling again. Today the colors of the mural were brighter and richer than they had been before. Perhaps it was a trick of his senses but the entire room seemed to be dancing with color.

Rising, he dressed and prepared for the day. He was eager to get started. First, he needed to see Jules and find out what had gone wrong in that damnable church.

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Jules and Erik stared across the desk at each other in the office.

"What made that fool think he could interfere?" Erik inquired with an icy voice.

Jules was silent as he gauged Erik's anger. He appeared to be calmer than Jules had expected. Still, it would be wise to proceed cautiously.

The man whom Erik had attacked was a visiting priest who had come unexpectedly early. He had arrived yesterday afternoon instead of today.

"The parish priest that I dealt with left the church yesterday morning, and was visiting a sick relative," replied Jules. "Evidently that other fellow thought it was his duty to take charge of what appeared to be an unorthodox and unsanctioned use of the church." Then Jules added as an afterthought, "You didn't seriously injure him; just frightened him."

Erik looked calmly at Jules. As usual, Jules had been thorough in the follow up of his task.

Continuing, Jules explained, "No one knows the identity of you or the woman. They thought you were simply an eccentric, wealthy man entertaining a paramour. The carriage man has been well paid and was unaware of what occurred in the church." Jules looked earnestly at Erik. He felt somewhat guilty that the event had turned out badly.

Erik held his gaze. "Do not trouble yourself, Jules. It was an unforeseen circumstance."

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That evening, Erik lay on his sofa as he read. He had decided to stay in for the night. There had been plenty of excitement the night before, and Jade probably needed her rest. They had returned to the opera house late and well past her bedtime. He noticed that she was now riding the horses before dawn so she needed to get to bed earlier. He could visit her tomorrow.

He closed the book and ran his bath. Slipping into the steaming water, his muscles relaxed as the liquid heat covered his chest. He glanced at the wall where the sketches were pinned and his mind wandered through the patterns and fabrics. Tomorrow he would send his final selection to a clever and efficient dressmaker who would be able to finish the dress on Tuesday. That would leave time for final adjustments, if it were necessary. But he doubted that they would be needed. He had a good eye. Now, all he needed to do was decide if she would look best in the green silk or the velvet…

He drifted off a little in the heat of the bath.

In his bedchamber Erik was about to remove his mask for the night when suddenly, he had an urge to go to the back passages. He paused, and then reached for his trousers and quickly dressed. Swinging his cape across his shoulders, he ran to the boat.

Once there, he prowled the passageways, wondering what he was about to find. His intuition was never wrong when it came to the safety of his home and invaders. In his hand was the coiled lasso that he held with experienced ease as he moved swiftly and silently up the corridor. No one came there by accident. They will regret their decision, he thought darkly.

Rounding a corner, he saw the light of a lantern ahead. The footsteps approaching him were quiet, and the height of the lantern suggested that the person was much shorter than him. Erik stepped into the opening of an adjacent passage and waited for his prey. He would allow the person to pass, and then would follow behind. His hands twitched in anticipation.

Jade glided by, floating along the corridor like a disembodied spirit. Erik's mouth opened in surprise, and then quickly snapped shut.

So, she found a way in. How the devil did she do that? It took only a moment for him to solve the mystery. Box five, of course. It is the only place where she knows of an entrance.

Erik followed her as he considered what to do next. How long had she been there? He had seen her walk back passages before and watched how she had systematically explored them. She was probably forming a mental map of them as she walked.

Moving silently behind her, he studied the lines of her back. He was beginning to enjoy the irony of the situation. Last night he had been frustrated that he could not bring her to his home, and here she was relentlessly exploring his hidden domain.

It was fortunate that he had found her before she had gone much further. The route from Box five lacked the traps that he had set in other parts of the passages for unwelcome visitors. However, once she drew closer to the lake, she would have surely stumbled upon one.

Using ventriloquism, he whispered in her ear. "Jade..."

She stopped and froze. Not knowing which direction the voice came from, she stood and waited.

As Erik silently approached her, she suddenly turned and faced him.

Erik gave her a short and mocking bow. "My dear Jade, are you so impatient for my company that you have taken to prowling dark passages in search of me?"

Jade returned his gesture with a short nod of acknowledgement, and then looked up at him with an expressionless face. This was the first time she had seen him without his fancy waistcoat and cravat. Plus, his hair was uncombed. He didn't look like his usual, impeccable self.

"Erik, I need to speak with you. I knew you weren't going to visit me tonight and I couldn't wait. Please, we must talk."

Erik stopped smirking and stared at her. Her face had lost its coolness and appeared tense, as if she were restraining her feelings.

Suddenly, he turned away and signaled her to follow.

Moving along the passages that Jade had traveled, they returned to box five. From there, Erik walked ahead of her by a few steps as she struggled to keep up with his long strides. They traveled along winding back halls and avoided the occasional person until they arrived in a storage area of the opera house. Erik unlocked a door and entered.

Jade followed, and her lantern lit a small room with crates stacked high. In a corner was a small table and chair, and a crate upended to act as another chair.

Dusting off the chair, he signaled for Jade to sit. He sat on the crate and faced her with his eyebrow raised.

Jade set the lantern on the table and stared at its dusty top. After a minute, her finger began to slowly form a spiral, which wound tightly into its center. As she dreamily made the design, her hand began to tingle. A buzzing started up in her head, and she felt a little light-headed.

Shutting her eyes, she could feel the hands from her nightmare around her waist that tugged her away from the blood, and pulled her into the darkness.

Her eyes opened and she was looking into Erik's, which were veiled with shadows. For a moment, she thought that he was in her dream.

She shook her head and cleared her mind. Erik was sitting quietly and waiting for her to speak.

"Meley died today,' she calmly stated. "Did you know that?" She watched for his reaction.

Erik continued to look at her but showed no surprise.

"Yes. I know." He replied.

"How?" Jade asked.

"I have my sources," Erik answered guardedly.

"No, I mean, how did it happen? How was he injured? Were you there, Erik?"

Erik leaned back a fraction and his face became a mask. He didn't answer.

"Alright then, will you answer this: Was I there?" Jade was becoming agitated.

With narrowed eyes, he stared at her for several moments before replying, "Yes. You were there."

She was gripping the edge of the table, and her knuckles were turning white when she asked, "Then why can't I remember?"

Erik looked down at her and seemed to be considering his answer. Then finally, he spoke.

"Jade, you heard the stallion screaming, and you ran to the stable where you found Meley beating the horse. You hit him on the head with your staff in order to stop him. Then you fainted, and I caught you and carried you to the storage room."

Jade looked at him suspiciously. Something was missing from the story. Her instincts told her he was holding something back.

"I need the whole truth from you. Since that day, I've had nightmares. Please Erik."

Unconsciously, she was twisting her hands in agitation, and he watched the movement with interest. Then he sighed and looked into her eyes.

"Jade, you weren't yourself when you hit Meley. After you hit him the first time, you were about to hit him again. I pulled you away so that you wouldn't kill him. I tied your hands and moved you to the storage room. Later, I came back to check on you."

Looking away from Erik, her gaze wandered through the crowded room as she noted every aspect of it, down to the dingy sacks in the corner. Then she turned back to the tall man who was watching her carefully.

"Thank you, Erik. That's all I needed to know." She picked up the lantern, and walked out of the room.

Retracing her steps back to a familiar hall, she made her way to the corridor that led to her room. She didn't look back to see if he was following. Opening her door, she slipped in and quickly locked it behind her. Then she pulled the bolt, which had been installed earlier that day.

Lying on her bed, she hugged her knees to her chest, feeling the warmth of her body. The nausea was gone, replaced with a stoic calmness.

I've killed a man, she thought. I am a murderer.

She closed her eyes and watched the flickering lights beneath her lids throb and flash with tension. Eventually they faded into gray patches that smeared the blackness. She lay there until her mind escaped into a deep sleep, devoid of dreams or nightmares.

A/N: thank you readers who are reviewing. You make my day when I post a new chapter and you toss back your impressions.