Erik made his way down the street, making use of what sidewalks had been cleared, and then mounting drift after drift. So many things flashed before his mind. He'd no doubt that by now Christine would be safe and sound at the woman's house. She would be safe there as long as Erphan followed his instructions diligently. There would no doubt be questions that he'd have to answer when he once again graced both ladies company, but for now he was simply thankful that he'd had somewhere for Christine to be safely stowed in the City.
Erik's eyes hungrily scanned every corner, every building that he passed. He'd only been viewed by a very few who were still awake at this hour. One having nodded to him, for surely they mistook him for a gentleman. No doubt the confinement suffered by those who were indoors since the storm was driving them mad. It had disrupted every sort of routine, making sleeping more difficult, when one had no physical exertion to tire them.
A frosty breath rose from him as he walked along the dark, deserted streets of Paris. So many things floated through his mind as he traveled alone there. He'd done so, more times than he could recall now. His night tours of the City had been done in the wee hours of the morning when only drunkards were about who would not be believed if they'd told tales of seeing a masked man roaming the city. Now, he'd a distance ahead of him to cover, and nothing but his thoughts to keep him company.
He paused, the crunch of the snow beneath his boots the only sound he could hear now. He stood taking in the sight of the great Cathedral. There was simply something about that structure, adorned in a cloak of virgin snow, it's light beaming for all the world to see. It was in a word, breathtaking. It stood as a testament to Paris. It was one of the structures he most admired in all of the city. It spiraled above the rest; reeking of elegance, strength and grace. He knew once it was in his sights, that the Opera House was not far off.
As he walked along the breadth of the structure, he was reminded how very infantisimal he was; how small they all were. The church had been there long centuries before he was born, graced by kings he'd only read of. The knowledge that it would be there long after breath left his lungs, reminded him just how very mortal he was. He gazed upon its fine features with more than usual admiration, for an architect's eye is far more critical. This he decided, was a perfect specimen. It was an example of the intelligence of men long dead, conveyed in tangible form, to those who were yet to be born. "Put love in your labor, and it will shine for the world to see." He said as he passed the staircase that led to the doors through which he'd never dared to walk. Perhaps someday.
His mind wandered off to Christine's dream. Though he could easily have done so, he would not permit it to carry him to a visualization of the scenes she had described in detail. He'd seen Nadir in compromised positions before, but never in the arms of a woman, and never without having first struck a killing blow.
He walked a bit faster now, as though the growing disdain for his thoughts fueled his gate. There had been far too much treachery involved in attempting to leave Persia, far more than either had ever imagined. They'd made a pact that last night before they'd fought their way out of that horrid city, that they shan't return, and shall always be present whenever the other truly needed them. That was the singular reason he was even now in Paris. He'd no want to make Christine travel in her condition. No want to risk everything they now enjoyed. No want to return to a city that was no longer home to either of them, whose inhabitants even now thought them both to be dead. No, he'd never thought to find himself in this City again for a great number of years if ever, but here he was, here they were. Erik was a man of his word, and he had promises to keep.
It wasn't long before he stood at the end of the cathedral, gazing up at the lighted bell tower, and the stained glass windows that shone brightly for all of Paris to see. In storms of every variety, it had served as a beacon of hope. No doubt this storm had been no different. For Erik, it was a reminder of the nights he sat on the roof of the Opera House looking down on the city that had been his home. Every night as he gazed down at the brilliant lights cast from the angels in that bell tower window, something soothed him. It was as if they were friends that greeted him each night that neither had hands to assist him, nor lips to speak to him, but he was certain they'd had ears to hear him….speaking, praying, pleading on all the sorrows of his heart.
Now he was seeing the City with much different eyes. He'd come to loath parts, and miss others, such as the seamstress that Christine sat with even now. He sighed, looking up at the tower once more before turning the corner and venturing up the street to the place he'd come for, the Opera House. Though he knew it would be most difficult to venture there once more, he reassured himself that he was there for one purpose only, and that was to rescue Nadir, and Meg. He could only hope he was not too late.
XXXXX
"Gentlemen, right this way." Raoul said as he escorted them into the study, pulling the pocket doors closed behind them quietly. Raoul made his way over to the oil lamp turning it up just slightly. The room was warm, his father having been there after dinner for a brandy, but had since retired to his room with a book. Raoul had no doubt that he was asleep now, for he'd not even risen when the wolves had come, nor by the subsequent shots that had been fired.
Nadir and the doctor took chairs on either side of the divan facing the fireplace. Raoul's hands were shaking a bit as he went to the decanter, lifting it and three cut-crystal glasses from the shelf. He carried it back to the table that sitting the glasses down, pouring a generous three-fingers for each man. The warmth would do them good, the numbing affect would do Raoul's nerves well. The last hour had been a bit more excitement than he'd cared for, and now the serious nature of the visit that the two men paid him was about to be made real to him, he'd need all the courage he could muster. He handed a glass to each man, sitting down on the divan.
"We best discuss what you have on your mind gentlemen. I dare say that you are both known well enough by me, so that whatever has brought you here on account of Crawlings shall not bode well for my household." Raoul took a stiff drink from the glass, looking back and forth between the two men.
Nadir looked at the doctor and nodded In truth it was he who'd a message to convey, Nadir had merely been an escort to the man, though he'd had interest in the matter where Meg and Madame Giry were concerned…and if his suspicions were correct, he could very well be protecting someone who may be very important to Erik in the coming years.
The doctor nodded back at Nadir, "very well." He turned facing Raoul. "You see the last innkeeper succumbed to the fate of the others, he died in my presence, his wife grieves for him even now."
"That is indeed most unfortunate for the poor woman." Raoul said, a bit perplexed, surely that was not the purpose of their visit.
"Raoul, it is that man's dying words that have brought me to your door step this night. I am afraid that he'd been quite unable to speak of it before, medication and pain ruled his mind. But in his last moments, his dying utterance gave me great cause for concern." He looked at Raoul…the last thing this young man needed was another reason for concern. But tell him he must. "Raoul, the man said that the last thing Crawlings spoke to him was that you were next."
Raoul's eyes grew wide. So that was it, that was what had brought him there that night, and surely Nadir had followed to protect Meg and Madame Giry, he'd no doubt of it, though he still was uncertain how the two of them had found one another. "I see," said Raoul as he rose, his breathing increasing. He walked to the window looking out at the fire that raged off toward the carriage house. He closed his eyes, it had been wolves, but it could have been that boy, and he'd paraded himself out on the veranda. "Has anyone any idea of the boy's whereabouts now, have you heard anything?"
Nadir looked at the doctor, he would tell what he knew to Raoul. "Raoul, before we departed I'd ventured over to the tavern across from the Opera House. I went to find the sleigh driver to tell him that we'd desired to return with him. He was just taking supper and I stayed but a moment. I must say that there was much talk about the boy in the tavern but none led me to believe that anyone had seen him. It is very likely he may very well be a great distance from here now, having thought wiser of it. Though I don't think we can be too careful now. We must assume you are in immediate danger and proceed accordingly."
Raoul looked back at Nadir, proceed in what way, he thought to himself. "How does one prepare for such a threat? It may be this hour or the next, or may never come to pass. I refuse to live in such a way. That does not mean that I've no intentions to protect my family, nor the ones that I love." He stood, a look of resolve on his face, his jaw set squarely.
"We should make immediate preparations to move Meg and her mother back with Elizabeth and Stephan. Meg and I in fact were just discussing her need to visit them soon, as she worries for them, and is feeling quite up to the trip now. Madame Giry had desired to stay in Paris until the Opera House reopened, but I am certain that she'd have no want to be separated from Meg just now. Yes, we shall prepare to move them on the morrow. In the meantime, I'll alert my staff to post additional men on the perimeter of the grounds surrounding the house. It is really all we can do until we've heard something one way or the other." Inside Raoul was already grieving. Not for himself, for it was the last of his concern. He grieved the thought of Meg leaving when they'd so much more they wanted to share with one another, so much more he wanted to tell her, to convey to her before they'd be separated for her period of consideration. He closed his eyes. He'd thought himself to be moving in haste that afternoon as he sat with her in that grotto, giving her his grandmother's ring. As the fates would have it, it had been fortuitous that he had, for none could have anticipated that the night would produce such a turn of events.
Nadir looked at the doctor. There was logic in Raoul's words, though he didn't know how such a thing could be managed without proper escorts, and surely Raoul could not spare that many of his staff. Nadir worried for a surprise visit from staff from Raoul's household. If they left the very next morning, he'd have no way to let Erik know of their impending arrival, and all that they'd worked to protect could be foiled in but a moment's time. No, surely there had to be some other thing to be done. Nadir had to think and think quickly.
The doctor rose, going to Raoul putting his hand on his shoulder. "I see you are thinking of the safety of those you care for Raoul, that is all very chivalrous of you, your mother would be most proud. But do spend time thinking of yourself, if not for your own sake, for that of your father, for Meg. If you are harmed or taken from them, it would grieve them beyond all reason. You must be safe. Perhaps it is time that you go for a trip yourself Raoul, perhaps you could accompany Meg and Madame Giry, I am certain they'd have no concern in returning your hospitality. It might be a very different household than your own, but perhaps it would do you well to be a distance from this city for a time."
Raoul was looking at the doctor, perhaps there was some rationale to the words that he spoke.
Nadir's heart was pumping with such force he'd thought he'd keel over from lack of oxygen. There could be nothing worse than the scenario the doctor suggested. Before he'd reasoned it through in his own mind, Nadir blurted out. "The Opera House sir, they should go to the Opera House."
Both men turned to look at Nadir with curious expressions. "What did you say Nadir?" Raoul said with a strange intonation in his voice.
"It makes perfect sense. The three of you, and myself, we could stay at the Opera House. There is nothing but a plethora of people at your disposal. It is quite a public place, likely the Crawling boy would have no way to penetrate such a structure unnoticed. Further still, if we occupy the level of the dormitories, Madame Giry and Meg could easily stay in the suite that is finished for her, Raoul, you and I could stay in the dormitories. It would be quite a perfect place for us to stay until we can be certain that he's not wandering about your woods, nor about the City. This would provide ample time to do as you suggest, making the preparations for your staff much less tedious, and making the transition for Meg and Madame Giry considerably easier." Nadir nearly gasped. It had rolled off his tongue just as his brain conceived it, though it was a plausible plan, and would allow Nadir several days time to figure out yet another way to keep Raoul from following Meg to Chauesser, or it would at the very least allow Nadir time to send an urgent messenger to Erik telling him of the goings on in Paris, in sufficient time for them to flee to Courtland Manor. Yes, it would work, but now the decision rested squarely on Raoul's shoulders.
Raoul stood looking at the doctor, and the doctor cocked his head nodding at Raoul. "There is much wisdom in what Nadir has suggested. It would prevent a long arduous journey just now, especially without knowing the boy's whereabouts. A long journey out on the road might very well play you or your loved ones right into the boy's hands."
Raoul raised an eyebrow. He hadn't thought of that. There was indeed much wisdom in Nadir's words, there was always the greatest safety in numbers. Raoul's mouth turned to a slight smile as he looked at Nadir. "You are a most wise man Nadir. I can see why you've such favor in Madame Giry's eyes. No doubt you've been a good and trusted friend. We shall do as you say. I'll fetch Madeline. She can begin making the necessary preparation for moving the ladies. The carriage master will need to be told of our intentions. Surely he can make some sort of covering for the sleigh so that we might travel obscured from view. We shall transport the ladies first, settling them in and then I shall arrive after. I've no intentions of putting them in harms way should I ride with them and be discovered. If you'll excuse me, I will…"
Nadir rose with Raoul. "Permit me Raoul, I will go to the carriage house, then I shall stop in the kitchens, alerting Madeline that you've some business to discuss with her."
Raoul nodded, he'd not mind having a moment alone with the doctor. "Thank you Nadir, you are a good friend."
"My pleasure sir." Nadir nodded in return. He'd see to it quickly. In truth he'd want a minute alone to scan the grounds. Something just felt out of sorts. It was not the wolves, it was not the discussion, it was something, a gut instinct perhaps, but something did not feel quite right. He shook his head as he walked down the hallway and out onto the back veranda.
The chill of the night air felt good against the heat of his face. Life had certainly become complicated these past months. He'd be Erik's friend until his dying day, he'd simply never anticipated that events would turn so for a man, and now a family that he'd come to love. He walked with swiftness to the carriage house, scanning the trees. He saw glimmers. He squinted his eyes, yes, several pairs, perhaps three or more. They had returned….the fire was a wise choice, for surely nothing living in that yard would have been safe this night, not with all manner of beasts on the prowl.
XXXXXXX
The woman led the man up the staircase to the main floor of the Opera House. They'd seen no others, surely they'd all retired for the evening. It was just as well she thought. She'd no desire to have to explain herself in the kitchens in the morning, for certainly they would ask all sorts of questions about the man, and of course there would be the gossip about her with the likes of him.
They made their way to the front doors, wandering through the grand foyer. The man stopped, taking it in. "This is most exquisite, I say they've done a right good job putting this back in order, it looks even better than it did before."
The woman turned around looking oddly at the man, "they've been done with this for weeks, perhaps a month even." She looked at him tilting her head slightly, this is the first you've seen of it?"
The man nodded as he stared at the ceiling but continued to walk towards her voice. "Yes, I'd not been needed, so I'd stayed in my quarters, reading…" He said as he wandered to her side, turning to take it all in. "I should think the Phantom would have been rather fond of it."
The woman's heart rose in her chest once more. "You…you knew him?" Her eyes were wide as though she were speaking of a ghost.
The man began to laugh, "knew him? I suppose in a manner of speaking, though our paths never directly crossed. He left me notes frequently when a production was about to begin. If my services were needed for this prop or that, he'd leave notes, sometimes detailed instructions as to weight or materials, or proper shaping. It was sometime unsettling since he'd critique the work I'd done, and I'd never left my quarters."
The woman looked at him, she found it odd that HE found something fearful in the Phantom, for surely he'd been rumored to fear no one. "You never saw him then?"
"No not directly, his silohette yes, though I'd recognize that flash of a cloak anywhere, for he and only he did it with such swiftness and skill. Each time I'd thought I'd perceived him to be near, a feeling would overcome me and I'd begin to investigate, moving in this direction or that, and sometimes, if I were fortunate, I'd see the tales of his cloak as he disappeared into the darkness."
The woman looked at him, indeed he'd known something of the Phantom. "And what say you then of the rumors that swirled about the gossip halls that you yourself posed as the Phantom?"
The man laughed again as they reached the few steps that led up to the door. "If one desires to be left alone, to not be bothered, rumors such as this work in your favor. I'd no desire to stop them nor deny them, it gave me the privacy I sought."
The woman merely nodded as they walked up the steps to the door. "Would you like to hold it, perhaps it would be safer in your care." She said, handing the envelope to the man again. In part she'd done so to alleviate her own fears. If they found themselves in a situation where she had to flee, perhaps he'd continue on and deliver the letter to the man. It was a selfish thing that she did, but this was no time to be brave she assured herself. After all she'd have to dine with him four Sundays in a row either way, so if she fled, it would give them something to discuss at their first dinner. She closed her eyes. She could scarcely believe she'd agreed to it, though she'd no doubt that she would find it a reasonable price once they'd reached the street to which they journeyed.
The man tugged at the door, it did not budge. He went from door to door, to no avail. They'd all been locked. "Do you know of where we might find keys Madame?" He looked at her rather hopeful she would know.
She shook her head. "No, I've no knowledge of them. Is there not another way that we could go?" She hoped he'd not suggest the service entrance as that would require them to walk through the employee dormitories, and draw the attention of all who still stirred.
He thought for a moment. "Ah yes, there is one door, one I know of that should be locked from the outside as it has no handle, but we shall be able to go out."
The woman smiled, but then thought, "and how are we to regain entrance? Surely we'll be back before morning arrives."
The man pointed her toward the back of the foyer just under the stairs. "Good woman, have you never heard of a brick? We shall place one in the doorway, from there we shall be able to re-enter upon our return. And yes, we shall be gone no more than two hours, provided we are not detained."
She shuddered. Surely if they encountered anyone on the streets of Paris at this hour it would not be for good purpose. For surely none would willing go out on a night like this, not after a storm. For the police did not patrol after a heavy snow, and surely if there ever was a time ripe for the criminal element, it would be on a night like that very night.
XXXXX
Christine followed the woman down the dark corridor, Erphan following closely behind her trying to hold the single lamp at sufficient height to light the way for Elizabeth.
"Here we are young lady, this I understand is the nicest of the three, most brides prefer it to the others. I only know that it is the largest, and that there is a rather nice chair that sits in the corner. It is also by far the warmest, a good thing on a night such as this one. Do go in young man, make yourself useful and light the lamp for her won't you?"
Erphan went in, removing the cover from his lamp, touching it to the wick of the other lamp, turning the handle and replacing the dome.
"Now do follow me young men, perhaps you'd prefer to share a room, if not, there are two here."
Christine heard Erphan say that it would be fine for them to be in the same room, and then follow the woman off down the hall to collect the wood.
Christine looked around the room. It was beautiful. Colorful long yards of silken fabric draped together adorned every wall, making one feel as if they were inside a royal tent. The corners were ornamented with golden cherubs who each held a challis that the twists of fabric seemed to flow from like liquid rainbows. In each corner stood a brass pedestal. On them, statues of Grecian goddesses; each as beautiful as she had ever laid eyes upon. The floor itself was covered in a large rug, Persian, Christine could tell simply by the quality and colorings. She paused, there at the center of the room, against the wall, was an elaborate gilded mirror of a size Christine had only ever seen at the Opera House. She'd no doubt an entire family could stand before it and see one another, no doubt its very purpose.
She paused once more, if ever there was something she'd learned to save for last, it was the ceilings that Erik painted. They were truly masterpieces. She exhaled closing her eyes. Tilting her head back slowly opening her eyes as she inhaled. The ceiling did not disappoint. It was covered in doves, white, each with a fresh yearling sprig in their grasp. Mixed among them were cherubs with bows in their hands, others with hearts, and yet others with golden bands. Behind them was painted a backdrop of the most beautiful blue sky, making each of the other things all the more spectacular. Christine smiled, no doubt this ceiling, this room, had provided much happiness to many young women who were about to make the greatest commitment of their lives. True love was only furthered when a heart soared, and she'd no doubt this room had seen many moments such as those.
It would be a good room for her. One where she could feel the very presence of her husband, her angel, for his hands had touched those walls, painted the ceilings, his very breath had been shed there. Something about that knowledge made it all the more comforting to tarry there.
She sat down on the rather generous divan. Erphan was coming down the hall with an armful of wood, and the other young man quickly followed. He went to the hearth immediately setting about building a fire for Christine. "I'm to tell you to join the woman in the room at the end of the hall when you are feeling settled. I believe she is brewing some tea. We shall be fine without it, should she offer, could you politely decline for us?"
Christine nodded, she would. No doubt the young men were tired, and they knew a long journey lay ahead of them again on the morrow, so rest would be a welcome friend for them this night. Erphan nodded as the fire took hold. "We shall be in the room just next, do call on us if you should be in need of anything, anything at all Madame Courtland."
Christine nodded. "Good night Erphan, sleep well." He smiled at her and departed.
Christine made her way down the hallway. She could smell the jasmine before she'd even entered the room. It was large, with gray walls and ceiling. It was full of bolts and bolts of fabric, a small cot lay off to the side in the corner. Surely, Christine hoped, this was not where the woman slept!
"Do come in child," the woman said peering out at Christine from behind a row of bolted fabric. She was digging about it with great interest. She finally pulled a bolt out, "yes, this is the one." She said walking over toward the large working table that lay at the center of the room, putting the bolt down on it before she came to rest in the chair, motioning for Christine to do the same. "I hope you do not mind jasmine child."
Christine shook her head, and thought better of it, "no mum, it is one of my favorites." Christine's comment making the woman smile. "It is very well then that I selected it isn't it?" She said with a laugh as she poured a cup for Christine. "Here," she said holding out a cup and saucer in Christine's general direction. Christine rose to take it and thank the woman.
"Now child, what is it that troubles you?" She said taking her first sip of tea. "Something troubles you my dear, I can sense it. Some burden lays heavy on your heart. Your husband would tell you that it is much better to speak of such things than to hold them in. They eat at your mind until they drive you quite mad." The woman smiled at her. "I think you'll find I'm a very attentive listener, not easily distracted. Do go on."
Christine could hardly speak of what truly worried her. She worried for Erik, she worried for Meg, she worried for Nadir. She simply said, "I am but a new bride, married several months only. I tend to worry whenever my husband is away. Truly, he brought me with him to the City only after much protest on my part about being left alone, though I'm altogether certain he'd have preferred I stay at home." Christine felt a bit of relief. It was not at all untrue, so she could state it with certain conviction.
"It is a good thing to miss one another my dear, it serves to remind us how very much the other means to our heart." The woman smiled as she smoothed her hand over the length of black velvet she'd unbundled on the table. "Yes, this is his favorite." She ran her hand over and over it. "Child, after you've finished your tea, you best be off to rest, as your room should be warm soon. We shan't have your new husband find you depleted and entirely worn when he comes to retrieve you."
Christine smiled, the woman was right, truly Erik would not approve of her becoming exhausted, though she knew she shan't rest for her mind would not permit it…there was too much she did not know, and far more that she worried might have come to pass. She watched the woman methodically arrange the fabric, and begin the careful process of cutting it.
Truly it was something of a miracle that the woman could do this at all. Christine was as curious as she could possibly be, but she shan't embarrass the woman by asking her. She sat a few minutes more, finishing her tea. As she rose, the woman rose towards her. "Do rest well child, your bridegroom has left you in capable hands my dear, you've nothing to fear here."
Christine blinked, she'd not thought of herself to be in danger, and indeed she wouldn't have or Erik would never have agreed to send her there. "Thank you for the tea, and your most gracious hospitality Madame, I shan't be able to thank you enough." The woman nodded as Christine wandered off to what would be her room for but a few hours.
XXXX
The pair had followed a passage that led behind the stairs of the grand Opera House Foyer. The woman had known that beneath the stairs there were a great many props stored, that were far to large or well constructed to be store in any other place intact. Though she'd never had reason to venture there, she was certain that it was merely a storage space and nothing more.
The man pushed open the doors discretely painted as topiaries, leading her in, closing the door behind them. It was as black as pitch, and for one fleeting second, she held her breath, terror lapping at her mind once more. He reached out and took her by the hand, making her instinctively shudder.
"Good woman, do not worry, there are no lights here to guide us, but trust me, I know the way quite well." His grasp was neither threatening nor too affectionate, it was simply a grasp of flesh on flesh, and nothing more. He led her around a maze of objects of varying shapes and sizes, some having to be climbed over, some ducked under. He carefully guided her through the labyrinth until they came to an abrupt stop. She could hear him pushing something aside and then the sound of a door being opened, whose hinges had been rusted from weather and lack of use. She saw her first glimmer of light, though very faint.
"Now dear lady, duck your head lest you be struck squarely by the low overhang just outside." She did as he bid her, being quite surprised to find them outside. The small area that she stood in waiting for him to prop the door open was entirely devoid of snow, and she could only see a sliver of light just at the end of it, surely a drift covered the very place they were, and they'd have to make their way out of it. This had not been part of the plan in her mind, though in truth it may serve her well, none would ever be looking for them there. The man walked passed her, giving her a cursory glance to make sure she was none the worse for wear. He took a rather large stick and began to pick at the snow covering just where the light shown in.
"Where are we…what part of the Opera House is this?" The woman ventured.
He glanced over his shoulder, surely she'd not want conversation as well when they'd need to be quite. "It is the center, a small courtyard is found just beyond this, and beyond that, a tunnel that leads to the back of the Opera House."
He returned to his digging as he spoke. "Few know of its existence. It was built as a safe hold for dignitaries and the like in case situations arose that required their swift departure. There is one other entrance from inside a dressing room, that is what was used for escorting them out. This particular porticos was built for the staff that had to attend to those being held there, for certainly they could not flee alongside them."
He groaned as he pulled a rather large sheet of ice down into the space where they stood. There was now sufficient opening for them to crawl through. He climbed the snow, looking out as he stood on the crust. He could see the light far above him, shining down through the chimney-like opening that led to the roof.
Kneeling down looking back at the woman he said, "I've a place to clear on the other side now for us to go out through the tunnel. Do you wish to remain where you are, or would you prefer…"
She interrupted him. "I think I shall stay where I am if you'd not mind at all." He did not.
Without a word he moved to the other side, some twenty feet away. She could hear him digging in earnest. She'd nothing to do but listen and wait. She heard the man pause, start again, pause once more, and start yet again. Then he stopped, she heard him gasp, and scurry back across the snow, dragging the branch along with him, diving in through the opening. He nearly toppled her as he grabbed her about the shoulders and pushed her to the farthest corner, covering her mouth lest she scream.
Her eyes were wide with wonder. The terror in her heart returning with a vengeance, now, she was certain she was but a dead woman walking, and her body never to be found again.
"Shhh, he whispered to her." Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she thought she'd faint. As quietly as he could, he whispered "there is something making its way through the tunnel, perhaps it is an animal, but we shall wait here silently until we are certain that it is gone." He looked at her in the near blackness, "do you understand?"
She shook her head, and he removed his hand from her mouth. "Why do we not simply go back through the door…"
The man scowled at her, "did you not hear the creaking? If it is not an animal, do you have want to draw attention to our whereabouts?" She shook her head. "If it is someone, I do have means to defend us, do not worry, they shan't know we are here until it is too late for them."
The pair stood crouched in the back of the small area for a long while, listening as they could hear something scratching, digging at the snow, and at last a final thrust as the sheet of ice that covered the opening was broken. The woman's breath caught in her chest. The man moved slowly over to the opening peeking out. The woman watched with what moon light shone on the man's face, as a horror overtook him, his jaw dropping as he slowly began to back away, the knife in his hand nearly falling out as his arms went limp. He was slowly backing away from the opening, to the furthest recesses of the other side of the opening, daring not to cross back into the shaft of moonlight that entered their hiding place.
The woman was in shock. Whatever could it have been that would have frightened such a man so? She heard a scuffling about and the crunch of snow as if under the boots of a man. The light at the small opening slowly shadowed and disappeared, but before all light vanished, she saw what she would later imagine to be the workings of a terrified mind, a long tale of a black cloak fluttering in the wind that now began to howl through from the outside. She shuddered, closing her eyes. Surely she knew she was in a horrific dream, a nightmare so profound that it seemed real, for surely a mere maid would not find herself in the present circumstances. She held her eyes tightly closed as she listened to the snow falling in, someone kneeling at the opening, and then…and then it was gone.
The pair stayed in their respective places for what seemed to be an eternity before the man ventured over to the woman. He took her into his arms whispering as faintly into her ear as he could, "we shall stay here for a half-hour's time, then we shall venture back into the Opera House. We shall have to find another way out."
The woman not at all frightened by the man's touch now, turned her cheek to speak in his ear, "what was it, who was it." She could feel the man stiffen.
"I cannot be certain, my eyes could have deceived me, but I think I would recognize that silhouette anywhere…" he paused swallowing hard, "I believe, though it shan't be possible…it was the Phantom!"
The woman shuddered, nearly dropping to her knees. All knew what happened to those that surprised the Phantom…and none wanted a part of it…but it couldn't be…it simply could not be….he'd been gone so very long…he'd taken the object of his obsession, all thinking that to be the last they'd ever see of him….it simply could not be. If he were there once more, to possess the Opera House once more….where was Christine? She shuddered…surely not he…
They stood in silence for a period of time. Being certain that they'd heard nothing further, they ventured back through the door and into the belly of the Opera House. They'd find another way, though not as discrete, it would have to suffice. Now it was later yet, making the journey ahead even more unpleasant, though they doubted anything further could frighten them more.
XXXXX
Erik waited until he heard the door creak closed. He'd held his body pressed up along the smooth side of the brick waiting and listening. He'd no idea who would be coming out of the Opera House by this means, or at this time, but he'd no wish to encounter anyone. He wanted simply to slip in, check the rooms beyond the lake, and return to Christine, trying not to think of anything else but of his sole purpose here. It would be far too easy to be distracted, drawn back in to such a place. An eerie feeling had already overcome him simply being back in the City. He'd no illusion that the underground grotto would be any less unnerving. He slid himself into the hole that had been made. He'd tarry here until he'd be assured that whomever it was that had ventured out would have gone. This was a game he knew well, and he could play his part to perfection.
Author's Notes:
Dear Faithfuls: A much longer chapter than I first intended, I simply had to get all of the characters to a certain point. I've had a few Phamily members ask me several questions, that I think might be of interest to everyone, so I thought I would include the answers here.
First, the man that is referred to thus far as the "prop" man for the Opera House, is not living in the Phantom's former lair. He is really only a few levels down in the Opera House. He is the one that was in charge of making swords, axes, guillotines, ball and chain, whatever sorts of weapons or items of torture were required for production, he had to make them look real, but not be real. Erik seemed to have taken a bit of fascination with the man's work, and even this obscure character did not escape Erik's critique. If something was unusual or didn't look quite right when it was done, the Phantom dropped him a little note letting him know what to do to correct his error. Now most people in the Opera House didn't like the man, nay feared him, first of all because of the work he did with seemingly such pleasure, and because he was a bit of a recluse. He was something of a bat, working around the Opera House at night. He had learned early on that the others in the Opera House didn't care for his physical appearance, so it all seemed to fit together quite well. It makes further sense, that he would know about the storage space beneath the stairs since he would likely have stored things there himself.
O.K., the answer to what month it is. It is the end of March, just several weeks before the celebration in Chauesser. So one can only imagine what activity will be going on there very soon!
As to when the babies are due. That is likely October, or there about. Unless there are complications or she runs overdue…one just never knows with babies…they come when they are ready!
As for the inclusion of yet another person to the story. Well, the clothing thing was one explanation of course. But I also wanted to add another softening dimension to Erik's character. He'd known so much cruelty in his life because of his physical deformity, it made sense that someone who was blind could have been the only person who would have treated Erik with utter indifference because of his appearance. She was able to see the man, the soul. No doubt this is where he learned a bit of compassion, a bit of the good things he has in his heart from this lady. It is true we only learn what we know by example, and someone after all had to model that for him, or he'd not have known true compassion. Also, health wise, I simply could not believe that he only lived in the cellars of the Opera House. If he did not venture out, for days at a time, he would have succumbed to pneumonia or something worse. He needed to breath fresh air!
There. Hope that helps a bit, and sets a few things in order. Do ask questions though whenever you wonder! Sometimes I can answer them….sometimes, for the sake of the story I cannot. But there is no harm in asking!
Captainoblivious: Have you not heard the old saying "patience is a virtue"! LOL! I know it is frustrating to wait for a part of a plot to be resolved, but their venture back into Paris wasn't likely to be uncomplicated, and the next few chapters will surely explain why the slow progress in dealing with Crawlings. I hope all will be forgiven once this part of the story is solved. As to the paintings…yes he'd been admiring her for a long while, and for him, there was but one outlet for his feelings, at least at first. He could hardly write music of love for a little girl…that would have been far too strange.
Good to hear about Rob. It makes me like him all the more! Not that my opinion really matters…but somewhere out in cyberworld…know that I am wishing for the best for you! Perhaps a Christmas Holiday romance will be brewing? You mentioned months ago how you wanted someone of your own to hold….perhaps wishes really do come true!
Have a wonderful weekend my dear!
Phantomsrogue: My what a long review my dear sister! Yes, the wedding dress…it was one I could see in my mind's eye, just as Erik saw Christine in it when he'd finally painted it. You can understand why he had to stop there…that his heart could bare it no longer…for he couldn't imagine life without her, or with her…his heart would allow neither!
Ah yes, music boxes….there is something indeed whimsical about them isn't there! The pure unadulterated simple tapes of metal on metal, playing a tune. It is rather like listening to a crystalline voice singing 'Avia Maria'. (That is another story in itself…one I shall share with you at Christmas time!) I've never thought of having the San Francisco Music Box Company build one for me…ohhh my goodness…can you imagine a fine lacquered onyx piano….playing….oh my breath catches just thinking of it… 'Music of the Night'…..ahhhh….picks self up off of floor after fainting Oh my, another item for my Christmas list! LOL!
You know, I didn't mind Kirsten when she was younger. Some of her youthful roles, such as in 'Little Women', were actually quite good. She played the perfect snobbish, bratty child, just as she did in 'Interview'. I have to admit, I did tolerate her in 'Wimbeldon', though I think Paul Bettany deserved a better co-star. Anyway….I've gotten side tracked!
Ah yes, 'Pride and Prejudice', not many have read the book and understood it fully. It is complex and riveting, and the language, well, let's just say a modern Webster's Dictionary might not be of much help. You'll probably have to go on line and find a better resource. But once you get into it, you might just find yourself speaking rather strangely! It is a large undertaking, but if the story hooks you, you might read it again and again, and…yes, again. I am looking so forward to the movie, though with a bit of apprehension, lest they not do it justice. I think Kiera Nightly should make a good Elizabeth Bennett though.
Darn, 'The Mists of Avalon', I knew there was something I forgot to look for on Amazon!
Bon Nuit mon cheri! Pouvoir le weekend vous amène le beaucoup de plaisir et repose chere soeur ! (Good night my dear. May the weekend bring you much pleasure and rest dear sister!)
MusicoftheNight13: Again I blush…you are all too kind. The month, late March….the perfect time for those unpredictable winter storms….but thankfully all will begin to melt soon!
Have a great weekend!
WriterMuseoftheNight: Thank you for your understanding about the clothes. It just bugged me. He couldn't make them that well himself, and I just couldn't see our beloved Phantom bent over needlework…LOL! It is the little nit-picky things in story lines like that which drive me crazy! Yes, Madame Giry would have been able to get that for him, but I think people would have wondered who she was getting all this men's clothes for if she was a widow!
Yes, the paintings. I'm afraid that some might have viewed them as yet another detour…to me, they add yet another layer to this complex man we've all grown to love. Yes, I am certain that it was love at first sight…or at least there was some sort of intangible connecting of souls…that grew over time, into a great love…ahhhh…I've gone and gotten all sentimental on myself again! ;-)
Erik back in his old persona….it was a complicated dance. He is no longer that creature, though it does lurk just below the surface, resurfacing when it is needed, though we can see he has to fight it coming and going…poor Erik! But you are right, if that life is to become part of his past, just as his life in Persia did, then he has to deal with it swiftly so that it does not overtake the life he is trying to live now…especially since it impacts far more people this time.
Yes, Lady C…a description would be good, though now a bit premature…but suffice it to say, even at her age, she is a strikingly beautiful woman!
Nisi credideritis, non intelligetis - Unless you will have believed, you will not understand. (St. Augustine)
Nordygirl: You are a talented one! Perhaps you should consider writing jingles for a living! LOL! By the way, I don't consider myself odd…I am unique…that has a much better ring to it don't you think? I didn't think too many would mind seeing a bit more of Erik's admiration for our dear Christine! Have a wonderful weekend my dear!
SilverRains871: I smile thinking of you falling off your chair when the furnace starts! Not that I am sadistic or anything, for I am not, I can simply picture it in my mind! LOL! Actually, having your computer in the basement isn't all that unfortunate. If you like to read dark stories, such as POTO, I can imagine no better a setting! I love to write and read by candlelight, so a basement, where all the world was shut out, might be just perfect for me! Though my library does had shutters on the windows, and a large vertical blind drawn across the door leading out to the veranda.
Yes, Erik is a tough nut to crack. Though he keeps rationalizing in his mind that now especially that she carries his children, that she can be trusted with everything there is to know about him. But…he has never truly trusted anyone…and this sort of thing takes time. When one is abandoned when they are young, it changes something in their psyche that is never normal again….a major roadblock to ever building a true trust with anyone. Though he is a brilliant man, and we can be sure that Christine's constant love and devotion will help him crack and heal, for lack of a more visual term.
Have a great weekend Kate!
Diveprincess: I love that quote of MLKJ myself. It has on occasion prompted me to do things that I didn't think I had courage to do…but I was not going to be the memory of the silent friend… A friend, a true friend, is never silent when they feel the other person is being persecuted or hurt…a true heart simply cannot permit it.
Thank you for your kind words about my father. I've learned so much since his death…it was ten years ago. I feel still connected to him, especially around this time of year. You see when he was alive, he was a rather jovial man, sporting a nearly white beard year round. So as soon as the first flurries started to fall, children began looking at him and nudging their parents with question "is that Santa Claus?" To which he took great pleasure. For you see in our tiny town, he did indeed play Santa Claus to private families and for various charity functions. He had a beautiful red velvet suit with a white faux fir collar, the big black boots, the round spectacles, and the whole nine yards. He had a rather thick middle, which in later years he didn't need to pad, and a rather bulb like nose…one just like you'd imagine Santa to have. And yes, the twinkle in his eye…he was always full of mischief…I suppose that is where I got it from. Anyway, this time of year always makes me think of him, but now I can do so without the pain….I can recall all the wonderful years we spent together…and I remember that this was absolutely his favorite time of the year. I didn't mention, though I feel compelled to now…the night he had his heart attack he had just arrived at his house after one of his Santa stints at a local charity…he'd had his dinner and was watching a special on homeless children on the Tele… his wife told me that she'd seen him crying for the children just moments before she'd seen what she believed, fall asleep. Somehow it comforts me to think that God was watching him as he took his last breaths….and he did not find him in a selfish moment….he was thinking of someone else when he went home to meet his maker….
PhantomFan13: HP indeed will cause quite a flurry of activity at theaters around the world tonight!
Yes, I have hopes that she will be well received…she is an important piece of the puzzle of Erik's venture into humanity….
Have fun at the movie…and don't eat too much popcorn!
LadyWinifred: Poetic, why yes you are! Thank you for the compliment on the many women in Erik's life. Someone this handsome, both physically and mentally would certainly attract women from the far corners of the earth! Now of course I'm thinking utterly of Erik as embodied by our lovely Gerard! He seemed to feel more comfortable with women, other than Nadir. Perhaps it was because a woman had been his sole companion for the first six years of his life…hmmm…
Not yet awake, I understand. Wa lah not that I really have any magical powers, but if I did, you'd have seen a beautiful china cup, perhaps from the cobalt blue collection at the winter house, appear on the desk in front of you. The contents? Café Ole of course! No? Perhaps a demitasse of espresso? No…not even a sugar cube? Well, drats…I don't have any powers…but we can tell I have had waaayyyy too much caffeine today, perhaps enough for both of us! LOL!
Have a wonderful weekend my dear!
SoaringSpirit27: Why yes, you are right it is my favorite song! I appreciate your name even more now…what a wonderful choice! Let our spirits soar indeed…. Thank you for your kind words in regard to our story. It has been such a blessing for me to share this with others out in cyberspace. I have loved the POTO story for so long, and to be able to find an outlet that allows for me to create a much different ending…..it was like a gift from heaven itself! I am so glad you decided to join our little Phamily…and I hope the future chapters provide you with many smiles!
Have a great weekend soaring spirit…let that light shine…you never know who's day you might brighten along the way!
Passed Over: My dear, I've thought about your words all night. I cannot explain how my heart goes out to you. You see, I myself fell head-over-heels in love with the man. Now, I too am a rational creature, and knew that there was no way that he would ever even know my name, or that I'd ever lived…but love him I did anyway. It was this fond affection that started me writing this crazy story, for once I saw him as Erik…the Phantom simply HAD TO HAVE a different ending. I cannot tell you how many things changed in my life because of this revelation…but suffice it to say I felt alive for the first time in a great long while….and the possibility of love grew in my heart in a way it hadn't in what seems like forever….though I always hoped my heart hadn't died….though it felt like it had.
I sense in you a very kindred spirit…we adore a man whom neither of us will ever possess…so we can say we admire him from afar. Now I don't mean this in a crazy stalker-like way, but in an admiration of a man who is genuine, talented, and has a quality about him that is very attractive, and hard to describe. We can only hope that there are others out there like him. Just last night as I was walking through my house, lights all off with the exception of my Christmas trees and the numerous Dickens Village houses I have, looking at all of my hours of holiday decorating that I've done…listening to some rather melancholy Christmas music, I decided that this would be the last holiday season that would find me in this big old house alone…single…life is simply too short to spend alone….no matter what age we are…there is love out there for all of us! Do take heart my dear. If love is not dead in your heart….it is possible in your life. If our dear Gerard has woken that deep love in your heart, it means that all hope is not lost…it might simply be hiding! As long as you have breath, you are not passed over….simply yet to be discovered. A jewel that will make someone very, very, happy.
Our dear Madame Giry…yes…though it will not be an easy road, she will find herself in a most suitable place, one where she feels fulfilled…and most importantly…content.
Good night my dear…sleep well…and may your dreams be of the most splendid kind!