Author's note: And here we have Chapter 4, where Christine takes initiative! Thanks to LonesomeGurlAngelofDeath for giving me the Persian's name. I'm glad you like the fact that Erik now has a brother! Also thanks to Lady Wen for reviewing. I hope you like it so far!

Disclaimer: POTO is still not mine.

As Christine made the hour long carriage ride back to Paris, she realized what she had just done. She had left Raoul, the man who had insisted that she go free and let him die rather than have her stay with Erik. Raoul had been so understanding about the whole affair. Then she remembered their conversation before their mutual professions of love on the rooftop during Il Muto.

"But Raoul, in those eyes of his, I saw the sadness of the world. They were pleading eyes and, though they were sometimes threatening, they also adored," Christine attempted to persuade him.

He brushed it off. "It was a dream, nothing more, Christine. There is no Phantom of the Opera."

"Then who has taught me to sing? Who made Carlotta croak like a frog just now? Who is this man who has done all this?"

"He is just that—a man. He is a sick, insane man who is playing with you mind. But don't worry Christine; don't talk about this darkness any more."

"But I am surrounded by it."

"Forget these wide-eyed fears. He is no concern: I'm here, nothing can harm you." And he took her hand, leading her to their love.

Thinking about this, she almost wanted to cry, seeing her blindness. She thought she had been blind giving her mind to Erik, who had just tried to save her from his own brother. No, she had been blind to thoughtlessly accept Raoul's vague words of comfort and think herself in love as a result. He still hadn't believed her about Erik, even after Erik had killed Buquet. Why had she clung to him? Perhaps it was because of their childhood connection, or maybe because he was so predictable- she always knew what was going on inside his mind, and she supposed that was comfortable.

"What was the address you wanted to go to again, madam?" the driver called back to her. Christine obviously couldn't have taken Raoul's carriage, so she had rented one, and simply told the driver to take her to Paris, lost in thought.

"Oh! I am sorry." She almost began to give the Giry's address, but paused, then gave him Firmin and André's address. She had to find the Persian's address. As she looked at the Paris streets going by, she tried to remember the Persian's address. She had only been told it perhaps once or twice. His name was something Persian of course, and felt that his last name began with a K- Kahn, or Khan or something along those lines, maybe.

Too soon, she arrived at Firmin and André's place. She asked the driver to wait for her, and made her way to the front door of the semi-grand house. The façade gave the impression of the residence of the nouveau riche, which was exactly what these two men were. She rang the doorbell, and after a minute or so, André himself answered the door. When he saw her, he groaned.

"I am sorry, Mademoiselle Daaé, for all your troubles, but believe me, we have no money to recompense you with: Carlotta reached us first," he said tiredly.

"No! That's not why I came at all!" she cried in surprise. "May I…come in?"

"Very well," he said, and let her in. Once inside, she gasped—she had been to this house once or twice before, and it had been full of expensive art and furniture, but now it felt positively empty. There was still some furniture and one or two pieces of art, but the walls felt bare and it looked like a house that was about to be abandoned or one that had been just been moved into.

"Don't ask about it," Firmin said, coming out of the rooms. "Who knew Carlotta and all the others could have gotten this much out of us?"

"I'm so sorry," murmured Christine. "I actually came to inquire as to whether you have addresses of the former employees of the Opera." She looked hopefully at them.

"Depends on whose you want. We've got the Girys' address, Carlotta's, yours, but if you're looking for some random door opener, we can't help you," André said.

"Well, I'm not sure. Do you remember the Persian? Last name…Kahn or something? Do you know where he lives?" she asked anxiously.

Firmin nodded. "I remember him: Nadir Khan. I believe we have his address. Let me look, one moment." He disappeared into another room.

While they were waiting, André asked, "Why are you looking for M. Khan?"

"He's going to help me find someone else."

André nodded at the vague statement, obviously not having listened to her. Shortly Firmin came out of the room, holding a piece of paper. He handed it to Christine.

"There you go, Mademoiselle Daaé. Good luck," he said.

"Thank you very much, both of you, and I hope you have better fortunes in the future," she said, and left as quickly as she could in a polite manner. Once back in the carriage, she gave the address Firmin had given to her to the driver, and they headed off. So the Persian's name was Nadir Khan—she had gotten the last name almost right. What would he say to her proposal?

Surprisingly quickly, they arrived at Nadir's place of residence. It was not a house, but an apartment, and not a particularly attractive one either. She found his room with some trepidation, realizing for the first time that Nadir really had no reason to help her. What would he say?

Reaching the room that Firmin had given her, she knocked thrice on the door. It opened surprisingly quickly, behind which stood the Persian. He looked at her in confusion, but didn't say anything.

"M. Khan, I wished to speak with you about Erik,' she said without further ado.

He nodded. "Come in, let us talk," he said, and moved aside to let her in. She sat on a low chair, as he poured tea that had already been on the table. He handed a cup to her. "This is traditional Persian tea. It may be stronger than you're used to." That said, he took a grateful sip of his cup.

She too a sip, and it took all of her effort to not spit it out. One small sip had the flavor of five normal cups of tea, so she set the cup on the table and said, "Did you know that Erik has a brother?"

"I did. I met him once, many years ago."

"He's evil! He took Erik!"

Nadir frowned. "How do you know?"

She proceeded to tell him the events of the day, though it already felt like it had happened years ago. When she was finished, he asked, "How do you know Mathieu actually took Erik?"

"Why else would he have knocked Erik out?"

He gave a brief nod. "I agree. But if you want me to help you in finding Mathieu, and therefore Erik, I cannot help you. Based on my knowledge of Mathieu, they are probably en route to Persia, and you couldn't go there."

"That's exactly where I'm going. I thought that might be where he was taking Erik, since he mentioned a sultana. I have no qualms about going to Persia," she said enigmatically.

"Doesn't your fiancé?"

She laughed. "What fiancé? Raoul? We are not engaged any more, so his thoughts are no concern of mine."

Nadir nodded slowly. "Very well. I will help you find Erik, but I have a few things to say first. I must comment that you are going down a dangerous path. I believe you are making Erik more of a hero than he is. I have known of him since he was young, and he is truly just a man, even though he can give the impression of being a Phantom, or Angel, what have you."

"That's not true!" she protested.

Nadir continued, unfazed. "Also, when we are in Persia, you must understand that women are expected to be much more subdued than in Paris. We may have to find you some new clothes, and do your best not to speak to men. Or to women, for that matter. You look European, but if you don't talk you may pass for a light-skinned Persian. Be glad for your brown hair. Now, last of all, we should leave now. How did you get here?"

"By a carriage I rented."

"We'll use that to go to the train station. Time is of the essence."
"What about money?" This was going suddenly so fast.

Nadir stood up, and helped Christine up. As he grabbed his coat, he said, "Don't worry about it. We need to go now. Once in Persia, it may take some time to find Mathieu and Erik."

"But…"

"No time! Let's go!" And they were off.

Yay! Christine's coming for Erik! But how will she fare in Persia? What new things will she find out about Erik? Will she discover who the briefly mentioned Djali in chapter 3 is? Reviews keep me alive! À bientôt!