The Crystal Rainbow
An Alternate Universe – Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2007
DISCLAIMER: I do not hold the rights nor did I create any characters found in The Phantom of the Opera or Phantom, nor have I received monetary compensation for writing this story.
The rapid beating of the heart cannot overcome
the inertia of unrequited love.
A Fool's Book of Wisdom
Chapter Twenty-Two – Inertia
The man gently wrapped his fingers around the halter's cheek strap and brought himself up to his full height. He placed his hands carefully over the mule's eyes and then closed his own.
"To Helen." He spoke quietly.
The man and the mule became transparent; their images wavered for a moment and then blinked into nothingness.
The clock finished announcing the hour and the empty room was silent, but for the ticking of the pendulum.
◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊
"Brava, ma chérie! Brava! Tu êtes une merveille! Non! Tu êtes un ange parfait¹!"
Forcing his eyes away from the lovely blush, which blazed across her cheeks, tumbled down the column of her elegant throat and swept across the rapidly heaving expanse of her chest, he smiled broadly at Christine.
"You know that I would not say it if it were not true. I never lie. I am pleased with the progress we made today. Now, close your mouth, ma chérie. Allowing your mouth to hang open in such a manner is bound to attract …."
She opened her mouth to cut off Erik's suggestive remark, when suddenly Helen's normally melodious voice resounded throughout the entire cottage with an ear-splitting screech. Christine's blush drained from her face and Erik's head whipped about to stare in the direction of his bedroom door. The two began to speak at the same time.
"What the fuck?" He shouted.
"Mon Dieu! Do you think someone is in the house?" She gasped.
Erik called over his shoulder as he began to rush from the room.
"It certainly sounds that way, but only one way to know for sure. You stay here!"
Christine leapt gracefully from the table, placed her hands on her hips, stomped her foot on the floor in frustration and fumed.
"Like hell! I am coming with you!"
He skidded to a halt and turned on her, his face grave.
"I will return for you in just a moment, but first I need to know if Helen needs help. I cannot help Helen if I have to worry for your safety. Please, Christine?"
The young woman let out an involuntary snort of disgust and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I am not some helpless maiden, Monsieur. Nor, do I intend for you to leave me alone where I am in greater danger than if I were with you. I leave you no choice in this matter, unless you lock me in this room and board up the windows, I am coming with you!"
Erik's eyes flickered to the window as a movement outside caught his attention. His visible eyebrow arched and then he rolled his eyes.
"Very well, Mademoiselle Daae. You may come with me."
The young man sighed and wilted under the young woman's withering gaze.
"Very well! You may come with me, but you must calm yourself, Christine! Your emotions are out of control and, if you glance out the window, you will see the results of your tempestuousness. Really, ma chérie!"
Once more Christine found her reply cut off by a shriek and then by the loud braying of a frightened animal. Christine began to rush to Erik's side, but froze as Helen's voice boomed through the cottage.
"Nadir! You fucking arse! What on earth were you thinking? Get him out of my house! Now!"
Erik's body stiffened and then relaxed. His head dropped into his hand and he began to shake his head. His shoulders began to hitch uncontrollably. Her face taught with concern, Christine raced to his side and placed a hand gently on his arm.
"What is it? What is wrong?"
Lifting his head from his hand, Erik met Christine's concerned gaze, his eyes twinkling with his amusement.
"Well, it seems that Nadir is here and he brought Edgar with him. From the warmth of Helen's greeting, if I were to hazard a guess, it seems to me that there are two asses in the parlor right now. Come, let us go and I shall introduce you to them. Edgar, at least, deserves a proper greeting. I am certain that Helen's screams have frightened the poor beast half to death. Shall we, ma chérie?"
He chuckled at the young woman's confusion, which was apparent from the furrowed line of her brow. He held out his hand and without hesitation, she placed hers within his, then as one, they walked from the room.
◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊
Nadir swore that if the air in the parlor turned any bluer, it would begin to choke him as surely as the exhaust emitted from those new-fangled horseless carriages would. He resisted the urge to chuckle and held up his free hand to ward off his friend's blows.
"Very well! We are leaving! See?"
He pulled gently on Edgar's halter and began to lead him from the room. He paused only a moment, before turning and walking to the front door. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at the invectives Helen threw at his retreating back.
"Really, mon ami! I am shocked to hear such filth coming from a lady's lips! I never expected to hear such language even from you! Tisk! Tisk! For shame upon you!"
He grinned wickedly and Edgar pulled away slightly from him. The beast shook its head at him and then surprised Nadir by nipping lightly at his shoulder. The huge brown eyes stared solemnly into Nadir's for a moment and then the animal let loose a blast of warm air from his nostrils, which Nadir interpreted as a sign of his disgust with the man. Nadir's smile slipped from his face and he sighed as the two walked out the front door. He closed it quietly behind him, before leading Edgar to the lean-to next to the cottage. The former Daroga of Mazandarin bowed his head and leaned it against the velvety smooth cheek of the mule. Edgar nickered softly into the man's ear for a few moments.
"You want to know why I bait her."
An emphatic nod of the large head made him laugh.
"Well, mon ami, since it is you, I will tell you the truth but you must promise me that you will not tell a soul. Do I have your word?"
The resultant nod almost knocked the man off his feet and Nadir released his hold on the halter.
"Hey! Easy, mon ami! Easy! Sometimes you do not know your own strength! Very well. The truth is this … I have absolutely no idea. What?"
In the blink of an eye, Nadir found himself lying prone in a rather large mud puddle. Lifting himself up on his elbows, he glared at Edgar.
"Why did you do that?" He bellowed. "I told you the truth! I have absolutely no idea why I love to torment her so. I guess there is just something so fascinating about her when I rile her. I find myself looking for ways to provoke her, just so I can see her react." His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "I find her so very arousing when she is angry, but you can never tell her. After all, you promised."
The beast leaned its head forward, carefully grasped Nadir by his wrist and helped the man to his feet. Edgar nuzzled against Nadir's shoulder for a moment and then turned to walk into the lean-to. The man looked down at his suit, which was now covered in mud and then after the mule.
"Well, I suppose I can take that as a promise." He grumbled.
"I am going to hold you to your word, Edgar!" Nadir huffed.
"Merde! So much for cutting a rakish figure for the lady. Some fop I turn out to be. I seem to be more of a flop!" He sullenly griped. "Edgar, hold still. It seems that I will need a change of clothes sooner than I expected, so I might as well take your pack off now and bring it inside with me. I will see to your supper after I have a bath and dress. Never fear, mon ami! I should not be too long."
A soft snort sounded and Nadir shook his head.
"What are you complaining about? You are not the one covered in mud! And, this was a brand new suit, too! Merde!"
◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊
"Xavier? Xavier!" An unsteady voice rasped. "Where are you?"
"Here. I am here, Jacob. Come closer."
Xavier's words, which rolled through the air with the consistency of sludge oil floating atop water, left Jacob feeling in desperate need of a bath. As if, he could scrub away the man's presence from his life with a bar of soap.
"Bloody unlikely, but he pays well. So, I will do as he wishes … for now."
Jacob cautiously walked toward the sound of Xavier's voice. Narrowing his eyes, he peered into the inky blackness of the shadows before him. The sudden hiss and rattle of a pipe overhead caused him to jump back from the noise and evoked a feral chuckle from Xavier.
"Nervous, Jacob? Why on earth are you nervous? Surely, a strapping, young man, such as you, has nothing to fear from a being such as me. Why, you could rid yourself of me with less difficulty than if you thought to swat a fly. But …."
It seemed to Jacob that the shadows swirled and a tiny figure, which seemed a part of the darkness, stepped into the flickering light of the furnace.
"… I certainly would not recommend it not so long as you are in my employ, anyway. Now, on to business. What news do you bring me of the good Madame? Does she still wander hither, thither and yawn? How goes her quest to find the lost heiress?"
While the man's voice seemed to dance lightly through the air as he spoke, Jacob knew his act was as false as the smile on his face. And, Jacob did have news. News that Xavier would not find pleasing to hear.
"And, this man does sometimes kill the messenger. I do not wish to tell him all that I have learned, but he can sense a lie better than anyone I have ever met. Fuck! Well, I better answer him or it will be the furnace for me."
Jacob cleared his throat and raked his tousled locks back through his splayed fingers.
"Yes, well, I do have news of Madame Helen. She and Monsieur de Seul have returned to her cottage and they were not alone. They brought a young woman with them. A rather pretty thing. She has long, curly hair that is the most interesting shade of brown. It is almost like melted chocolate. I have not been able to get close enough to see clearly the color of her eyes, but they seem dark. So, I would hazard a guess that they are brown as well. She is taller than Madame is, but considerably shorter than Monsieur de Seul, so again, I must give you my best approximation of her height as being average. She is very slender, but has … um … womanly curves. I do not know her name, but I believe she is the one for which Madame has been looking."
An interminable silence filled the air with its leaden weight. Jacob fought the urge to turn and run from Xavier's presence like the gingerbread man, just as fast as he can. His instinct for self-preservation won over his fear and he remained rooted to the spot. The boiler room was stifling and yet, Jacob felt tiny fingers of ice tickle down his spine as the man spoke.
"Well, this is a most unfortunate turn of events, but perhaps all is not lost. She is a young woman, non?"
Jacob nodded.
The shadows swallowed Xavier's small shape and a sinister chuckle echoed throughout the room. Jacob lost the battle with his nerves and cringed at the horrid parody of mirth.
"You may go, Jacob. Continue to keep watch over Madame Helen and her charges. Report to me in one week. I wish to know what occupies their time each day. Go! Do what you do best! And, you may just live long enough to enjoy your ill-gotten gains."
Jacob's nerves surrendered and he half-ran, half-stumbled from the boiler room, his head filled with the maniacal laughter of Xavier Balard.
¹ Tu êtes une merveille! Non! Tu êtes un ange parfait! – Translation: You are a marvel! No! You are a perfect angel!
