A message for all of age readers: Hangovers get worse the older you get. That is all. Sorry for the two day late post but I was pathetically near death for most of sunday. Enjoy!

Chapter 27: An Alarming Arrival

These were what Christine knew to be true:

One: She is a prisoner for the Shah of Persia, brought here as punishment for a failed drug trade she had no part of.

Two: Her angel of music is a man; a man named Erik. He is a human, a living person with an angelic voice and devilish tenacity. Although he clearly cared, his loyalty, mangled with fear and unwilling obedience, lied with a tyrant

Three: Firmin and André were barely alive, her friends were locked in cages, and they were all malnourished and unprepared for their upcoming performance.

Four: Above all else, this was the most important. Erik was more than just a friend.

She could tell by the way he touched her. It was full of an unquenchable want as necessary as a whale's need to surface for oxygen. His presence enveloped her, as if she could sense his every movement, surrounding her in an unfamiliar warmth. Behind the black mask of death were amber eyes that shined brightly with song and desire. She wanted to taste it, drink every aspect of it though she knew how terribly it would burn her. His hands were warm around her, but she couldn't shake away the fact they were stained in blood.

Her emotions scared her. He scared her, but it would be a lie if she said she didn't crave it too.

Christine watched him as she belted her aria, letting the cool air of the secret piano room steady her vibrato and raging heart. As her angel played on the piano, she followed his every note with motivation. Her voice felt stronger, more fine tuned than before. But despite everything she had learned, she felt more confused. He sat straight, swaying with the dance of his fingers against the keys. How was this the posture of a murderer?

He looked different to her now. Before her was a man that had endured hell on earth. What kind of mother detested their child to the point they had to flee? What horrors did he endure with those gypsies? She completely understood his hesitation to answer her questions. Memory lane for him was most likely the source of his nightmares.

She had to quickly recollect herself after she flatly delivered a note. He glanced at her for just a moment, but she looked away. Even though he played for the opposing team, she felt as though she could trust him. All of her unanswered questions about her situation blurred the line of who to trust and who to fear, leaving Erik standing boldly in the middle

What kind of life have you known?

She finished the aria, her eyes following her head up to the stone ceiling. She inhaled deeply, letting the elegance of the piano sooth her. She had partly suggested they rehearse to calm her own fears. As much as she wanted to know the truth, she felt guilty for her need to escape the conversation. Sometimes the truth was too much to bear.

"Excellent." He sighed contently. "A few flat notes but overall you have improved greatly."

He stood, straightening his trousers. "Tomorrow we can rehearse with the rest of the crew. I hope by now the daroga has utilized his single brain cell to prepare everyone a meal. They will need their strength for our final rehearsal."

He led her through the tunnels and out into the main hall. They whispered to each other, Christine chiding him on his treatment of his friend.

"You don't know him."

"He seems nice."

"He's a pain in my ass."

"He cares about your well-being."

"Hardly."

Christine giggled. Conversing with him was effortless. Even though their previous conversations had left them in tears, this flowed smoothly like a stream. As they walked, down the halls of a foreign palace, she felt like it was the most natural thing.

Their conversation was halted when a group of guards passed by. Erik's hand quickly grabbed her triceps, leading them to the side of the hall.

"Look down." He whispered. She obeyed immediately, refusing to look towards the group that passed by. She glanced over her shoulder, waiting until they were far enough away to hear her.

"Who was-"

"Sir!"

Darius approached them, briskly walking. He bowed once he reached them. "Angel, Nadir must speak with you urgently. He is in his study."

Erik glanced over at Christine. "I told you so." He muttered, earning a slight chuckle.

"I'm sure it's important."

"I doubt it."

Darius shook his head. "It is regarding the Shah."

Christine's heart seized. It was as if the lightness of the atmosphere crashed into an abyss of despair. She glanced up at Erik, who's jaw had tightened at the mention of his king. She felt the urge to take his hand, but he briskly walked past the two of them.

"Escort mademoiselle Daaé to the dungeon." He instructed, the seriousness of his tone returning. He hesitated, his body seemingly freezing for just a moment before turning to face her. Her heart skipped a beat as he addressed her with gentleness. "Forgive me, but this is urgent."

"Of course." She responded, her hands clasping together in front of her. More than anything she wanted to know the details of Nadir's message, but could only watch as Erik nodded before storming down the hall. Darius turned to her once he had left.

"I am sorry, but as a prisoner, I am afraid I must escort you as so." He gripped onto her arm, just as Erik had.

"I understand." She smiled weakly. They continued down the halls, Christine's eyes staring at her worn boots, her mind swarming with worries. "Darius-"

Darius hushed her. "I apologize, mademoiselle, but you must be silent."

Christine gulped, lowering her head as she followed him. She chastised herself on her naivety. Though it was wonderful to finally get to know her angel, she had avoided the true dilemma before her. The Shah, the King of the East. What kind of adversary would he be?

Christine wasn't prepared for the dungeon. She flinched as she entered to the sound of screams, the stench of death burning her nostrils. But soon they had passed the main area to the small hall where her friends waited, she was welcomed by the warm hugs of her fellow ballerinas.

"Care to explain where you have been all day?" Sorelli teased as Darius shut the cell behind her.

"Yes." Madame Giry interrupted, her arms crossed as she towered over the four women. "I would love to hear every detail."

Christine gulped, her cheeks reddening. "Ev-every detail?"

As she glanced around, she noticed that the men had all moved towards the bars, getting as close to the women as they could. Matilda, Sophia, and Carlotta stood not far behind Madame Giry, all of them staring at her intently. Christine nearly felt guilty. Their pale skin, covered in dust and sweat hadn't felt the warmth of the sun in two days. While Christine was given a breath of fresh air, they remained locked in their cell.

"This Angel of Death seems to be quite fond of you." Sophia interjected. "I presume that is who you were with?"

"Well yes but I-." Christine began before Meg interrupted her.

"I fail to see how any of this concerns you." She snapped, glaring at the crowd forming around them.

"Then you are blind." Carlotta accused, her hands snapping to her hips. "If we want to survive this, we need to be transparent and honest with each other. Your time with the Phantom could provide us with useful information. Now step aside, heathen."

Meg's hands clenched into fists at her side, but Christine gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "It is alright, Meg. I have nothing to hide."

Meg nodded, her eyes downcast. Christine continued.

"When I was a little girl, my father told me that an Angel of Music would come to protect me. But instead of an angel, the Phantom came. We were both children and he became my music teacher and my friend. As many of you suspected, the Phantom left many years ago and he ended up here. When he left...I was heartbroken. You have to understand I had no idea he was the Phantom. He was just my mysterious friend. When we were taken to the dining room last night, I was with him. I wanted to know why he had left me, and why he had lied to me. These details will not help us survive, but most of our time has been rehearsing and trying to understand our pasts. I promise, he has said nothing that could affect our situation."

"How can we trust you?" Carlotta snarled. "You could be his accomplice!"

Christine's heart dropped. It was as if the friendliness she had known from her companions for years dissipated in an instant, replacing their warm glow with an air of unease. They glanced at her suspiciously.

"Don't be ridiculous." Sorelli snapped. "Christine is not the rat."

"Then why are they so close now? Do you really think they have been discussing their past friendship this entire time?" Piangi quipped from the other cell.

"She is the rat!" Ignacio accused, pointing a finger through the bars.

"Impossible!" Gabriel retorted, turning to the older men. "Christine wouldn't do that."

"Oh Antoinette, can't you see? It has been her all along." Sophia whispered, gripping onto the stunned instructor.

"Lies!" Meg cried. Soon an uproar began, drowning out Christine's pleas. Everyone yelled at each other, each trying to be the defining nail that decided Christine's fate, but none refused to yield. She trembled in place as her three friends stood for her defense. Carlotta's fiery rage scorched around her, joined by the worries of others.

"SILENCE!" Madame Giry yelled. Christine jumped. She had heard Madame Giry yell for their attention, but never had she heard her screech like this. It felt as if the entire dungeon had grown silent at her demand.

"Do not be fooled." She hissed. "Christine Daaé is not the rat. I know this, because I know who the rat is."

A soft gasp echoed against the stone walls. Madame Giry stood boldly, her eyes moving from person to person with such an inquisitory glare that it froze even the angriest of hearts. At each person she glanced at, Christine wondered if they were the rat, but no one gave any indication that they were the infamous betrayer.

"This rat was a part of the operation from its birth, something a young girl who had been under my care and tutelage would not have been able to do. No, this rat is eager to place the blame on someone else." She knelt in front of Christine. "Everything she has told us is true. She and the Phantom were very close as children. I remember listening to them rehearse through the changing room. Childhood friends torn apart by time and circumstance. Do not let your prying minds interpret this any differently. He is still not to be trusted, and she knows this. Christine is on our side, aren't you my dear?"

Though it was phrased so, Christine knew this was not a question. The look in Madame Giry's eyes told her all she needed to know. It was as if Madame Giry knew everything they had said, everything they had done, but demanded that she refuted it. Christine wanted to defend him, declare that she trusted him, but she sealed her own lips shut. Christine nodded. Madame Giry didn't do this out of anger or hostility, but to protect her from the insecurities of their comrades.

"We were old friends, that is all." Christine agreed. She couldn't help but wince at the bitterness of her own words. "But now that has changed."

"I am sure it has." Madame Giry muttered knowingly. Christine would have blushed if she wasn't so afraid.

Everyone seemed to relax at her agreement, many turning away and speculate to themselves.

"Madame, who is the rat?" Jammes whispered. The four ballerinas circled their instructor, hoping to keep their conversation private. But yet again, everyones attention returned to Madame Giry.

"That is for them to reveal." She stated, turning to face the rest of the crew. "Though I would encourage them to remain silent. Once the Phantom finds you, the only person that could possibly save you from his wrath is this young woman."

Christine couldn't help but feel the pressure of everyone's eyes. Her fingers trembled as she remembered how futile begging for André and Firmin's freedom had been. She did not posses the strength to save anyone, let alone a traitor.

"I-I saw André and Firmin. They are alive, but only just. They're in the dungeon, in another cell. But...there was nothing I could do to save them." She admitted, biting her lip.

"That doesn't change the fact that you are their only hope, no matter how slight it may be. You are the only one who can help him see reason. Now, we must move on from this discussion. Arguing will not help us."

Meg wrapped an arm around her, though Christine could barely feel her there. She was still staring at Madame Giry, her questioning eyes dissecting every bit of information she could gather from Christine. As the others moved about, preparing to perform, Christine could only stare into her instructor's unreadable brown orbs.

She knows. But I know that she was just as involved in his past as I was. Christine thought. She nodded toward her teacher, as if to communicate her thoughts. As mad as it may seem, Madame Giry nodded back, as if she understood. She stood quickly, encouraging everyone to begin rehearsing. Christine followed suit, numbly preparing herself as she ignored the sideways glances of the women around her.

She swallowed down her fear.

"I have more news." Christine stated. She stared at the floor, unable to meet their eyes. "Er-The Phantom received news about the Shah today. Darius told him it was urgent."

"What was it?" Louis asked.

Christine shrugged. "I don't know."

Madame Giry exhaled sharply. "Then we cannot afford any more time. Come! We rehearse now."

-Erik POV:-

"Are you certain?" Erik asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

Nadir leaned over a small desk, his eyes scanning the many maps and messages scattered across its wooden surface. The room was lit by a gentle candle-light though the atmosphere was far from serene. "Positive."

Erik's reaction was nearly instant. He grabbed a nearby object and hurled it at the back wall, screaming in anger as its crash echoed throughout the room. Nadir barely flinched.

"Damn it all!" Erik snarled, his fingers running through his hair. Why did nothing ever go to plan? Why was he never able to escape this madness!

Nadir sighed. "According to my calculations, the Shah could arrive anytime between now and tomorrow morning. Regardless, I am certain he will want to see their performance tomorrow evening."

"And the Sultana?"

"As usual, I have heard no word of her. I do not believe they traveled together. She could be in the palace now for all I know."

Erik leaned his head back, letting it smack lightly against the stone wall. "This changes things." He growled.

Nadir rubbed his temple. "Erik, this changes everything. We thought we would have a few days to ensure their escape, but he could be nearing the city as we speak. Once he arrives our options will be extremely limited."

"Have you heard back from our contact in Russia?"

"Yes. He knows a trader currently in the city who could take up to four of our prisoners to Russia tonight. I tried to argue for more, but four was his limit. Once our contact arrives in a few days, he could take the rest but if the Shah is here, he will return to Russia immediately."

Erik was silent for a moment, his anger dimming into blackness around his soul. He honestly didn't know why he was surprised. Why did he believe in hope? "Four is not ideal...but enough if necessary. Contact this trader immediately."

Nadir turned to face him. "You cannot possibly be serious."

"Given the circumstances, we would be fortunate to save one, let alone four. As long as Christine survives I don't care who else you choose."

"How can you expect me to choose? Every life matters." Nadir begged. "When will you grow up and stop being selfish?"

Erik refused to move, anchoring himself in place. This fool wasn't worth his rage. "This isn't selfishness but reality. You cannot save everyone. We will choose the four younger women. They will be easy to hide."

Nadir scoffed. "Sometimes I cannot believe the words that escape your mouth. Since when did you regard death so flippantly? Why not return to our original plan?"

"Death means nothing to me. It is inevitable and relentless. Ignoring its possibility would be foolish."

"Their deaths would be untimely."

"I never knew death had a schedule."

Nadir slammed his fists on the table. "Take this seriously, man!"

"I am taking this seriously." Erik hissed. "You think I want to put her in harms way? You mad, old dog! She is my muse, my soul, and I would surely die along side her if anything was to happen. Her departure will rip me to shreds but I could die with the knowledge that she survived. I know the pain it would cause her to watch her friends perish, but if that is her only chance of survival then I'd take it. Don't mistake my misery for indifference, Nadir. You would have done the same for Rookheeya."

"I would have fought by her side. There wouldn't be a chance in hell I would decide for her."

"Don't be absurd. If she had chosen to stay and perform even if you knew she would die anyway, you would force her to leave."

"You don't know that. He may spare them."

Erik scoffed. "Oh yes. Save them for what purpose? Hm? For once use that brain of yours. They'll remain locked in that cage until he grows bored and desires blood. Then he will summon the Angel of Death to torture them, to kill them. Nothing, nothing in this universe could ever compel me to harm a hair on her head. I refuse to let that be an option!"

"If four of them disappear, we will be caught and the rest will be slaughtered."

"But she will live."

"This isn't about what you want, Erik!"

Erik screamed with frustration, moving towards the door. "Are we done here? I have better things to do than listen to your childish complaining!"

"Like what? What could possibly be more important? You think she will still care for you when you cast a blind eye when your friends beg for salvation?"

Erik stopped at the door. Nadir continued. "You promised me, Erik. You promised me when Rookheeya died that you would help me put an end to this tyrant's madness. A part of that is destroying the grip he has over us."

Erik span, clasping his fingers around the daroga's throat. Years of training was the only reason Nadir could block his grip from breaking his neck.

"Erik. Our only option is to play his game." He gasped.

"No. We will send her with the Russian."

"If we play they can all survive. I've heard their performance."

"If they survive he will keep them as prisoners."

"Then we will escape with them once he leaves again." Nadir choked.

Erik leaned in closer. "And let him have his way with them until then? You think I will let that monster touch her!"

Nadir delivered a swift knee, causing Erik to topple over. Nadir pushed himself free from his friends grip, gasping for air. "You bastard." Nadir muttered in-between coughs as he leaned against the table for support. "If you save four of them, then the rest will surely die. But if we wait it out, then they all could survive."

"He will take her." Erik groaned on the floor, slowly attempting to stand. His tone was desparate, near a plea. "He will take her and there will be nothing I can do to stop him."

Nadir stared at his friend, his voice softening. "That isn't entirely true. I am sure an arrangement can be made, one even before he sees her."

Erik faced the Daroga. His mind swarmed with different ideas and plans, all too foolish and risky to be initiated. Yet the confidence in Nadir's tone drew him in. "What are you suggesting?"

A swift knock on the door halted their conversation. Before Nadir could respond, Darius entered, his eyes wide.

"The Shah has returned."

Thank you all for the reviews!

Phantomgirl24: I am so glad you liked that part! It really is tender and they are both healing each other with music. They're definitely getting more comfortable with each other and they understand each other more. Thanks for the reviews!

Yinuotong: I love writing snarky banter, either between Meg and Sorelli or the two of them and Darius. I'm glad you like them too haha. Thanks!

Guest: Ah I know! Such a cliffhanger. I'm glad you're still liking the story! I'd love some constructive criticism.

Lucyole: Love your summaries of the chapters, they help me keep my ducks in a row. The once terrified Christine definitely stands up for him now, she has come a long way. There may or may not have been some slight of hand... surprise surprise. Thanks for the review!