Christine was gasping when Erik returned to her side. She'd not been gripped by such fear in a very long while in his presence, but she had feared more whilst he'd been away from her. The shrill scream in the darkness had nearly sent her running into the depths of the caverns; had she not feared going lost, she'd have done it.
Erik uttered not a word as he took Christine into his arms soothing her with his hands, cooing reassurances in her ear. It had been too close, they'd nearly been caught, but by whom, he did not know. The frame of the man he'd pulled from the snare, was strange and unfamiliar to him. He lifted Christine into his arms, covering her protectively with his freshly donned cloak….Nadir's words ringing once more in his head,…"Erik, in saving a life, even one of your enemy, you are slowly paying penance for the lives that were lost in Persia."
He pressed his eyes closed moving silently through the back corridors. He'd not be able to take Christine out the way they had come. They'd go out the way they had on their wedding night. The travels would be longer, and far more complicated, that was assured, but they'd no choice now. His only relief was that they had not tarried there, even but a few moments more. It would have likely produced an end to the life that he had now even saved. What had caused the man to shriek in terror he knew not, for he'd seen nothing behind him whilst he waited for the man to cease in his struggles.
It was an odd thing really, watching calmly when another is believing to be breathing their last. Knowing that at any moment you can reach in and snatch them from death's door at the whim of your choosing. He'd learned, a great long while ago, to rescue one safely from the water, one needed to patiently wait until they struggled no more, or most certainly, in their desperate thrashings, they would drown you with them.
Christine was silent in his arms, feeling once more the maiden-bride she'd been just months before. She was certain they were out of danger now, Erik's pace was slow and steady. She'd not utter even one sound until he'd given permission to her…for she did not know what had happened in the blackness.
Erik's mind whirled. How had he been so careless? How had they dared so brazenly to tarry there? Though the mere thought of the memory remained sweet on his lips…and left him with want to return for those very moments alone. His keen edge was dulling, his sense of self preservation was left wanting now in the wake of utter distraction of the woman who consumed him body, mind, and soul. She was everything to him, and he believed in his heart now, he had grown to be as much to her.
As he carried her in his arms, he recalled Madame Giry's words, "when a woman starts to think of children, she is unconsciously relinquishing her future to her husband." How very undeserving, he felt of such love. He tried to focus on the task at hand. His only real want now was to carry her to safety, to coddle her in his love, to bring her relief from the strain of all that had transpired. The wear of it on her body and mind could come to no good for her if she'd not be properly rested.
It was a long while that they traveled before Erik put Christine to her feet, leaning his back against the wall, sliding down to take rest. He reached out for her hand, gently guiding her into his lap, kissing her temple. He whispered ever so slightly, "we are safe now my dear, but let us not throw caution to the wind. I shall answer for you any questions you like when we are back in the seamstress shop. For now, let us rest but a few moments, and then be off. We've need to return to her shop for the few hours until morning is in full bloom, and we'd need to do so before the friend of darkness departs making it impossible for you to hide your face." Erik sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.
Christine felt a gasp rise within her… "my hooded cloak Erik…I left it there…I've no hood to conceal me!"
Erik's weary eyes open once more, blinked with heavy pondering. He shook his head. "We've no time to return for it, the cost is too great Christine, it shall be lost to you now. You've several more like it at the winter house, do not worry for it." Though he could scarcely believe he'd been that careless when they'd left. "There is nothing to do now. When we've come to the entrance, I shall give you my cloak. Wrap it around you, and you shall hunch as an old woman. If we are stopped, you shan't raise your head, not even slightly. You will be as an old woman hunched from the wasting disease of the spine, unable to right herself. Do you understand?"
Christine nodded, apologetically kissing Erik's neck. He neither returned her affections nor chastised her…he indeed must be more weary than she could imagine. It had been days now he'd gone with little more than a few minutes nap here and there, hardly anything to speak of. His temperament had held in check, and though she herself would have been anything but docile in that situation, she marveled at his calmness. He'd need a bit of rest now. She knew not the hour, but she knew it was very unlikely that he could carry on without some form of respite.
As she nestled into his chest , she noticed that though he was damp, he did not shudder nor shiver. In fact his skin was warm, very warm to the touch. It made no sense given the chill in the air, and the cold waters he had just come from. She shook her head. It was likely nothing…nothing more than the stress and the strain of the past week come to pay its call upon him.
XXXXX
Meg was sound asleep on the divan in the center room of her mother's suite. The dishes from the evening meal still lay on the table where they'd shared joyously in the tomato augratin, the duck confit, and vegetables en croute. The decadent cocoa torte had been all but consumed late in the night, next to a fresh bit of coffee that had been delivered to them just before midnight.
Madame Giry and Nadir found themselves out on the veranda, bundled and huddled next to one another, not far from the open copper basin in which Nadir had kindled a small fire. They'd each a glass of red wine in hand, supping at it mindlessly as they watched the dark sky for the hints of morning that were certain to come. They'd each slept a few hours, though fitful, for they knew another, more difficult visit lay ahead, followed by what would likely be a long separation of the group.
"Antoinette, do you think Christine will carry her babes to the end…and when she reaches her time of confinement…will she…I know that her mother…" Nadir was simply mirroring Erik's own worries.
Madame Giry looked through rather bleary eyes at Nadir. "I do not know Nadir. Her mother was not as young as Christine, nor I dare say as healthy. But neither did she carry as many." Madame Giry sighed. "We must pray…pray that all will go well with her." Madame Giry squeezed Nadir's hand as she took another sip from her glass.
"I dare say that Erik would move to an irretrievable state should anything happen to that woman." Nadir said with certainty. "Who would ever have supposed that all one needed to subdue a monster was a lamb?" Nadir laughed quietly so as not to awaken Meg.
Madame Giry shot him an acerbic glance. "Monster? Is that what you'd thought of your friend?" She was aghast at the possibility.
Nadir shook his head, now looking out on the City of Paris, seemingly lost in reflection. "No dear lady…not I. For what I thought was of little consequence. Monster…it was what Erik believed himself to be. He was shunned by his own mother, beaten and paraded by the gypsies, then brought here where he grew with full knowledge he was feared and reviled. But even all of those things did not lead him to that opinion of himself. It was the years spent away from here…when you were gone…having married. The years spent in a distant land that made him feel a monster dear lady. Your little sprite made him feel alive again! Christine saved him from utter despair. Without that child to love, I dare say he would have withered and died by now."
Nadir was rubbing at his chin. He couldn't get the mental picture of that coffin out of his mind. He looked at Madame Giry, aware he was not betraying Erik, though he felt like he was. "Did you know…all those years he slept in an antique coffin?"
Madame Giry's eyes did not even flicker, though she looked down in sadness. "Yes, I knew. He'd had it delivered here some years ago. It was an awkward thing really…I shudder to recall it. It was quite a complicated ruse that we'd devised so none really knew the contents of the box when it arrived, and to whom it belonged. A large box of collectables had gone missing, as far as the Opera House staff were concerned, the very night it arrived."
Madame Giry glanced up at Nadir. "You would have most enjoyed watching as Erik and I lumbered with it down the stairs, and at the level that I always stopped, he'd brought something of a flat sled. From there he took it on alone to his…his…home." Madame Giry shuddered.
"Are you cold dear lady?" Nadir said reaching out to pull the blanket he'd wrapped about her shoulders a bit higher around her.
"No, not cold." She turned looking at him with a pained regard. "Nadir, do tell me, the time you spent with Erik, did he…has he always…" her voice died in her throat. How could she ask his dear friend such a thing? She simply shook her head looking out at the City. Her weariness had left her mind vulnerable to question.
Nadir sighed, a tremulous smile growing on his lips, then fading just as quickly, his eyes turning glassy. "Yes Antoinette, he was rather morbid, always talking of death and dying as if it were a welcome eventuality for him. He'd wanted to know, it seemed to me, that he'd not be left to rot in the street somewhere. He'd made reference to a special box he'd had, one that he wished to be buried in when that time came." Nadir chortled, "I'd told him there was no use in telling me of it, since I was a much older man, and more likely than not, to be food for worms far ahead of his time for need of such things." Nadir glanced at her. "I think in some strange way, he knew we might one day meet, you and I, and that I would convey his wishes to you."
Madame Giry smiled. "Perhaps." She looked down and then once more out at the skyline. "Do you know where it came from Nadir…the coffin?" She looked at Nadir, an almost sickened glower on her face. "He ordered it from Transylvania." She shuddered again. "Now, before you think me quite mad, believing in such things…I want it known soundly that I certainly do not. We must however, remember with whom we are dealing!"
Nadir nodded, Erik had always had a fascination with the rumor, nay myth that surrounded the shadows of those hills in that distant land. It's very prospect had disturbed him, though Nadir simply dismissed it from his mind whenever he'd thought of it…blood sucking monsters…it was something of dark folklore and no more.
Antoinette went on, "it had been emptied of its occupant in some great raid on a cave, and had sat there for a century it was said, everyone fearing to use it or dispose of it. Erik had read of it in some news or another, and decided he'd just the place for it." She shook her head. "It made no sense to me then, and makes little more to me now."
She rubbed her fingers under each eye, a tired stretch soon followed. She glanced at Nadir once more. "He'd said they'd passed through that land once, the gypsies, and he'd heard great tales told of monsters of the night who caused fear and terror in the hearts of men. Anyone or any living creature that went missing was said to have fallen prey."
She shook her head, she could scarcely believe she'd repeat such nonsense. "He decided to rid that land of the lore himself by bringing it here, as his final resting place when the time came. To him, then, it seemed fitting, for he too was a monster he'd said, and that was as close to a family relation as he would ever be…perhaps not of the same blood, but of kindred spirit. Those who walked the earth wishing to be dead."
Madame Giry shook her head. "During those years Nadir, I worried for Erik most. He so longed for a family that he'd taken the desperate measures in his mind to find something that he was like, some sense of sameness…" She looked out at the City. "Nothing ever soothed him truly. Though he did allow for visits beyond necessity, from time to time." She smiled faintly.
"Sunday afternoons, nearly every one whilst I lived here, we shared in a meal. I'd have a chorus girl look after Meg as she napped, and I'd come down to the level where we would meet, or sometimes he would venture up to my room…" she smiled just thinking of it. "There we would break bread together, and enjoy conversation of the most common variety. I would share of the news I had heard of the world, and he would give me reviews on the books he had read." Her gaze seemed to wander into oblivion as her voice trailed off. There was a long silence. "Thankfully, that is all in the past now."
"Nadir, I fear for what is to come now. We've all been through so very much together, we will never stop in our worries for one another." Her eyes cast down at the fire over her shoulder, then moving back to Nadir's face.
"Come Antoinette, let us go indoors. You are tired, and it is cold. We've several hours more before we shall meet them again, we should rest even if sleep eludes us." He took Madame Giry by the elbow, sliding his arm around her shoulder, leaning her head against his chest, he escorted her to the warmth of the inner chambers. They would wait now. And then…then they would go out to meet them.
XXXXX
Christine slowly relaxed her hand. She'd been running her fingers through Erik's hair as he'd drifted off to sleep. She'd allowed her mind to ramble here and there. As long as she focused, she knew she could not sleep. For she feared if she did allow her eyes to close, they'd sleep for a great while, missing everything that Erik had arranged so meticulously.
Erik's breathing was even and steady, the warmth of his breath on her skin as his head laid on her chest had given her every sensation imaginable. At first it was the warmth, and then it was the thought of love having her husband wrapped sleeping within her arms. And then it had at last turned to a tickling sensation as each hot breath wreathed around her neck.
She'd tried every distraction she could think of to keep her wits about her. First she'd thought about names for their children, and how Meg had inquired, Erik swooping in to answer the question. She'd thought about all she and Meg had discussed, hoping beyond hope that she'd not said anything too private. She thought about the conversation that they had all had about finding reasons for visits…..so much work it would be, so much work on all of their parts, to keep this friendship alive. It was worth each and every agony though, for love one another they did deeply.
Erik began to writhe around under her arms. His cheek had grown most decidedly warmer. When she put her palm to his forehead, it was smooth with sweat. Perhaps he was not feeling well just now. His body was likely reeling in all that he'd required of it, and little or no sleep did not assist in its recovery.
Christine looked down at his sleeping form, holding him ever closer. She listened as he began to mumble.
"The gun…he would kill him…." Christine realized that Erik was dreaming. At first a wide smile crossed her face as she listened to his ramblings trying to pick out parts she would use to tease him when he awoke, but as she listened the wonder and fear in her heart grew….what was he saying?
"The bullets….the boy was…." he moved himself in a near half-circle without ever leaving her arms. "It was not I….swear no one will know…he will never…..Raoul's gun…they must never know." The last of his ranting sent a shiver up her spine. What had he said? She held herself as still as she could, now fearing she would wake him. She waited patiently, but as the minutes grew, her hopes were nearly dashed. Just when she'd thought of waking him before she herself succumbed to a similar fate, he spoke again, this time his words were clear, shocking her to her very core.
"The boy would shoot him…he did not see him…why did I….he shan't ever know….it was for Meg." His voice wandered off. "No hero." The last of his thoughts dropping like iron drops on his forehead, he wincing in the very pain of them.
Christine sat in a stupor. Had he been the one? Had he shot Crawlings? If so, why the ruse, why then….and suddenly it hit her. If he had shot Crawlings thereby saving Raoul….the struggle within him would be excruciating. If it was indeed the truth of it, no matter how fear it raised in the rest of them, it was nothing of the suffering that the man trembling in her arms now felt.
Erik muttered and writhed once more, his face more than tinged with a sweaty sheen. "The books…I promised her."
Christine could take no more…no more mention of things she shan't know of, or perhaps even hope to understand. She felt as a thief stealing Erik's precious thoughts from him when he was at his most vulnerable. She gently chastised herself, for had she not resolved when last they were at the winter house to love him without question….to never wonder of the past he'd yet, if ever, to share with her? No, she'd intrude on his private thoughts no longer. A crimson blush of shame washed over her. She began gently shaking Erik's shoulders until he jerked awake, a fit of coughing taking over him.
Erik tried to stifle the cough, causing it to go deeper still until he could contain it no longer. There were several loud barks before he could clear his throat enough to swallow.
"Erik, are you well?" Christine inquired, gently running her hand along his back. It was not until he opened his mouth to speak that Christine grew concerned.
He swallowed, his throat having swollen like the engorged flesh of a great bleed, he felt fevered, and a general malaise had settled upon him. He knew himself to be wearied, but this…he did not fall ill! He tried to speak though his voice was scratchy and strained. "I am alright Christine."
She shook her head. "I have seen healthy, and that my dear husband you are not!" She felt a motherly tone rising in her. "We are to pay our proper respects today, and have the visit you wish to with the seamstress, then we are off to the winter house where you my dear, will rest until I say otherwise." She put up her finger, silencing Erik who was about to protest. "My dear, had I known you were ill…." She stopped short, for she not want to take back the hours they'd spent together there.
Erik smiled at her wearily. "You are right Christine we are off straight away to visit with the woman. Then on to the cemetery, and back to Courtland Manor."
Christine smiled, obviously he was more tired than even she had imagined. "Yes, a brief visit, and then off to the winter house." She restated without looking up, assured that her correction was right.
"No, to Courtland Manor." Erik said resolutely. "Courtland Manor is where we shall spend the coming months Christine…do not worry, I have thought about it thoroughly. It is only there that I can keep you truly safe. You've felt well until now, though I dare say when you are heavy with child, this amount of excitement will not set well with you. You are to rest my dear, wander a garden, sip tea by the waters as the sun rises and sets." Erik replied, rubbing at his eyes. They could tarry there no longer.
"My dear Christine, I promised I would answer all of the questions you could wish for once we were back at the woman's shop. For now, I need only for you to trust me, trust that I have our best interest in mind, though I can tell by your glare that you question it."
Christine's face was more filled with horror than it was question. Why had he not discussed this with her? When was he going to tell her? She did not know, though the tone of his voice said inexplicably, that there was no argument to be made that would convince him otherwise. "Erik, though I've no want to leave the winter house, now that we've settled, I will obey your wishes without question." She looked at him in seriousness. "Though my dear husband, when we are safe, I do expect for you to explain why we've had to go."
Erik looked at her, it was a fair bargain. If she'd not protest now, then she was more than deserving of knowing to what fate she'd committed herself. "Very well Christine." Erik rose, a flinch in his brow.
"Erik, you are not well." Christine said, genuine concern in her voice. "We must get you home, get you to some rest." Christine was readjusting Erik's cloak on his shoulders. "As your wife I am quite capable of seeing to the arrangements of moving the household. Do not worry my dear." She kissed his cheek, reaching up to place her cool palm on his forehead. She stretched placing another kiss on his cheek.
"Come, let us go from this place. By this time on the morrow, we shall even now be at home in our own bed warmed by the fire. I dare say these caverns are far too chilled for a woman with child to be traipsing about in!"
Christine nodded her head. The cavern where they were now was warmer than most. No doubt it was the fever that Erik surely had that caused him such a chill.
Erik took Christine's hand, resting it upon his forearm as he escorted her from the room.
Christine turned looking over her shoulder. "Erik was that…"
"Yes Christine, it was indeed the very place where we'd shared our first dance as husband and wife."
Christine smiled widely…she knew there had been something entirely comfortable there. Oh how she wanted to ask about the scream she had heard…but she would wait…she'd struck a bargain with him.