Chapter 3: Music of the Night

Her father! She had found her father! When she made the promise, she had thought it impossible, even before she knew who he was! And now here he was standing in front of her. She was beyond words.

"You!" They exclaimed at the same time; his an expression of anger, hers an expression of surprise.

"I thought I'd lost you that night! Medaling child!" He growled. Grabbing her by the front of her cape and drawing his sword, he said, "I don't care if you're a girl! You did not learn you lesson and so I will kill you!" His left hand which was vacant flew to her throat.

"Wait… you can't…"

"Why not, trespasser?"

Erika was gasping as he tightened his grip. He felt light headed. But she had to tell him! "I'm…your…daughter!"

He dropped her and his sword immediately. "What…?" He seemed dazed. Erika had not been able to stand when he let her go. She had collapsed on the floor and sat there, coughing. He soon regained himself. "Impossible!" he yelled. She looked up at him. The thick curls that concealed her from the world had been shaken and parted slightly. Just enough for him to be suspicious…

Seemingly without thinking he placed a hand on her shoulder as the opposite one brushed, or rather tore, the hair from her face. His eyes widened. He backed away muttering, "Impossible…impossible." But as Erika watched his eyes narrow and dart from side to side, searching for the long buried memory, there was no denying it. He eventually came to sit beside her on the step he had thrown her onto. After a long silence, he said "Christine?" She confirmed his question with a nod.

They sat there for a long time. Erika pulled her hair back out of habit, and for a long time they sat. She avoided his eye, but he stared, burning a hole in her with the power of his gaze. She was eventually buried in her own thoughts.

"Why?" The question, ringing through the stony depths, aroused her.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you come?"

"My curiosity got the better of me. And-" she stopped.

"What?"

She shook her head. He got to his feet. "I want to show you something." Without even thinking she followed him. He led her through the passages of the dark, so easily she knew it had been his darkness for a long time. One opera house to another.

They finally emerged into a lighted place. Erika gasped when she saw it. There were candles all around on stands or mounted on the walls. There was an organ against the stone to her left along with scores of music piled as tall as her in some cases on tables and unused chairs. To the right there was water that led out through a tunnel to great unknown regions. Pulled half way onto the land but still enough in the water to launch was a gondola. Beautiful!

This was where the king of music composed! Where darkness was born! She could not contain herself for all the wonders around her that she had only dreamed of!

E: "You have brought me

To the seat of sweet music's throne!

To a kingdom where all must pay homage to music!"

P: "I have brought you

For one purpose and one alone.

Since the moment I first heard you sing

I have needed you with me

To serve me to sing for my music.

My music."

Erika was so filled with joy, that for the first time in two years, she smiled.

E: "Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness wakes and stirs imagination
silently the senses abandon their defenses."

P: "Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, sense it - tremulous and tender
Hearing is believing,
Music is deceiving"

E: "Hard as lightning
Soft as candlelight
Dare I trust the music of the night"

Both: "Close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth

and the truth isn't what you want to see
In the dark it is easy to pretend
that the truth is what it ought to be"

P: "Softly, deftly music shall caress you
Hear it, feel it secretly possess you
Open up your mind let your fantasies unwind
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight
The darkness of the music of the night."

Both: "Close your eyes, start a journey through a strange new world
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before
Close your eyes and let music set you free"

P: "Only then can you belong to me"

At this Erika stepped back. What did he mean? She began to second guess herself and her father. He looked down, ashamed, and she knew this isn't what he ment. She smiled, and he held out his hand.

P: "Floating, falling, sweet intoxication
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation
let the dream begin let your darker side give in
to the power of the music that I write
The power of the music of the night!"

They stayed up long hours that night, sharing their darkness, their music, and their songs. It was many more hours before Erika started to nod off. They were at the organ. He was playing and she was listening. She closed her eyes and her head fell gently on his shoulder. He stopped playing, and carried her to a bed in the next 'room'.

P: "You alone can make my song take flight

Help me make the music of the night."

The servants in the house of the Viscount de Changy only knew so much about the deformed girl who supposedly lived there. They saw her shadow pass by every now and then, or heard the music from her alleged room when nobody was home and it had to be her, they had been told it was a private room for Christine's personal use, mostly music practice. She never used it however. The theory was also presented that she was an angry spirit who haunted the family for past wrongs done to her. But Justine Belial had another idea. The servants were in their joint room when Justine described to them just what kind of person was living upstairs.

"Like yellow parchment is her skin ...
A great black hole served as the nose that never grew ...
You must be always on your guard,
Or he will catch you with her magical lasso!"

Justine was a huge flirt, and telling the story of a monster like she knew what she was talking about seemed like the perfect way to get noticed. But Ida was not pleased that Justine would hurt someone else to get what she wanted. Ida was smart and cunning. She put down the tea she was drinking.

"Those who speak of what they know find,
Too late, that prudent silence is wise.
Justine you will hold your tongue -
Keep your hand at the level of your eyes!"

Everyone knew that Ida had won again. She was a nice girl, but she was too connected to the family. They shunned her for her knowledge and apparent fondness of whomever it was that this mystery surrounded.