Due to the long wait, I decided to post the chapter 9 for you guys as well. Enjoy! And review for both please, if you enjoy them. It's helpful for me.

It gets a bit... violent, just forewarning.

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"Is this your card?" I asked, holding up the ace of spades.

"No," he said simply.

I sighed in irritation, "I feel like you're doing this on purpose. What did I do wrong?"

"Lack of focus. Just try again."

"How are you so good at this?"

"I performed for years, and I had a natural aptitude. You will have to teach yourself, and we've only been working on this for a half hour now."

"Oh, I think I'm done for now," I told him, setting the stack on the table. "I want to go to bed early."

"It's only eight o'clock."

"I'm tired."

"You don't want to read a book?" he offered. "We always read books at night-"

"I just want to go to bed. That's why I put on my nightgown early."

"At least let me show you a card trick, one you haven't seen before."

I sighed, then smiled a little, "All right, one."

He picked up the cards and began shuffling them like water. Just that was amazing to see, how they could glide through his hands, even through his fingers. He could toss and catch them. It was mesmerizing.

"Do you have a favorite animal?" he asked me.

"I like birds," I replied, still entranced by the shuffling.

"What type of bird, specifically?"

"I've always liked the colorful ones they sell in shops. I can't remember what they're called."

"Parakeets?"

"Yes, those."

He smirked, "And what color?"

"A pale blue."

"Describe it in great detail for me."

"What does this even have to do with the trick? You can't possibly conjure a bird to my specific requirements out of thin air."

"Of course not," he replied. "I'm simply going to turn a card into one. Now, a white breast and blue wings? Was that the image in your head?"

"No. Pale blue all over."

"Pale blue all over it is... Pick a card for me."

I removed one from the deck. It was the five of clubs.

"Hand it back to me," he said.

I did so. He slid it between his hands, rubbed it, then stopped. He rolled up his sleeves so I could see he was hiding nothing, and then, quite suddenly, the card had vanished, and in its place, between his closed hands, was the exact bird I had pictured.

"No," I said, shocked beyond belief. "No, that's not possible. How did you know I would pick that color, first of all?"

"I know you well enough by now."

"But... where did it come from?"

"The card turned into it," he replied, quite pleased with himself. "Do you want the card back?"

"No, but do it again."

"All right," he said simply as the bird chirped. He pressed down as if squeezing it, but as his hands separated, there was the five of clubs.

"Oh, bring the bird back, though," I said. "Unless you have to return it?"

"It's yours if you want it."

"I do very much. Bring it back, won't you?"

"You bring it back. Put your hands on mine."

I did so, and again, he rubbed the card. It vanished and was replaced by the bird, who chirped happily.

"I bought a cage for it, too," he said. "Let me get it."

I assumed he was going to get up, but he remained where he was. He cupped the bird between his hands, moved them around it, and there was a great "poof" of smoke, and the cage appeared around it. It was a white one shaped like a bell jar, with a little swing in the middle.

"It's lovely," I told him.

"We can get him a friend if you like, too," he said, pleased with himself. "I only had time today to grab the one, and I wasn't sure if you would want to keep it."

"Where did you keep the cage and bird, though? How did you do the trick?"

"Isn't there a rule about magicians not revealing their secrets?"

"Doesn't the rule change when the magician is the audience's fiancé?"

He was silent for a moment, surprised that I had addressed him as such. Then he replied, "Yes, I suppose it does... I kept him inside my jacket. His leg was fastened by a near-invisible string. Slight of hand, and there he was."

"But the cage?"

"Again, slight of hand, with the smoke to distract you."

"But where were you keeping it?"

"Behind the chair."

"No. No you weren't, I would have seen!"

"But you didn't. You were too involved... Do you want to go to bed now?"

"Yes, I think so... Except... is the bird trained already to go on someone's hand?"

"Yes, he's very well behaved. He didn't even mind the string. I can get you seed for him, too- but actually get it, I left it in the kitchen."

I laughed. He smiled faintly at this, reaching out to stroke my cheek, but he withdrew his hand.

"It's all right," I told him. "You can touch me."

He brushed the surface from my cheekbone to my jaw, then turned towards the kitchen. I felt where he had touched.

It wasn't right to love him, not in the way of a husband to her wife. He treated me like a child. I didn't think, however, that he knew how else to treat me gently. Maybe, in time, I could show him how to love me like his equal. He did love me, and I felt something for him that might be able to grow if the fear dissolved.

Maybe everything wouldn't be so terrible. There was hope. Even in this abysmal place, there was hope.

He brought me a brown bag of seed and helped me get the bird situated.

"What should I name him?" I asked, reaching in to stroke the bird's breast.

"He's yours," he replied simply.

"You conjured him out of thin air."

"Out of a card," he said, as if that made more sense.

"Still... Maybe I should name him after an opera character. Do you have a favorite?"

"Figaro."

"Oh, I like Figaro very much. From the Marriage of Figaro, yes?"

"Of course. Mozart." He glanced at the bird, then back at me. "You could have lots of pets if you wanted."

"I just want him, and maybe a friend for him, that's all... I don't much like other animals. Birds are nice, because they sing and fly, and they're so beautiful."

"You remind me of a bird," he said softly. "A beautiful bird."

I shut the door of the cage, my heart sinking.

"I'm not a bird," I told him. "I'm a person."

"You only remind me of one. I wouldn't want you as a bird."

I nodded, biting my lip. Then I asked, "What do you like about me?"

"Everything."

I shook my head, "You like when I argue with you?"

"In a way. I love how passionate you are in everything you do, and how caring you are for everyone, and everything..."

"Will you keep me in a cage like a bird?"

"No. No, of course not. We'll go on walks often, and you'll have a garden and house you can walk about freely. I might even take you into town sometimes, if you want."

"But I can't walk there alone."

"Not at first," he told me gently, "but later, when you trust me more, and I trust you, I'll let you go wherever you like... Is that so terrible?"

"It's better than being trapped down here in the dark."

"Anything is," he replied, pensive. "You should go to bed. Do you need help getting into it?"

"I'm fine," I said, pulling myself up and swinging my leg over. "See?"

"Yes... Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

He hesitated to leave.

"I love you," he said softly, then he went out of the room.

"Wait," I told him.

He returned, confused at why I would want him.

"Come sleep beside me," I told him.

He blinked, "Beside you? I thought you were afraid of me."

"Not here... and... sometimes I think I see things, in the dark."

His face fell, "We won't be here much longer. There's nothing there, you know."

"I know... My mind plays tricks on me down here, especially recently."

"You fear me less than imaginary shapes in the dark, though?"

"At the moment, I do."

I slid over to allow him room. He simply lied down on top of the blankets.

"Goodnight," I whispered, turning on my side.

He said something in reply, but I couldn't hear. He remained still, staring up at the ceiling.

"May I sing to you?" he asked.

"I would love that," I told him.

...

I jerked awake in the middle of the night. There was a figure in the doorway, dripping water. I could hear the beads falling onto the stone floor.

"Erik?" I said groggily, confused at why the place beside me was empty.

"Christine?" replied a different, familiar voice.

"Raoul?" I whispered, sitting upright. "Am I dreaming?"

"No, no, come with me, quickly-"

"My leg is broken-"

"I'll carry you-"

"I can't betray him. I made a promise to marry him-"

"What? Why? We have no time to talk, come along."

He went to pick me up, and I slapped him straight across his face.

"Go away!" I hissed in a whisper. "You're alive, and that's all I care about. Go before he finds you here! He knows what we did!"

"Christine?" Erik called in the distance.

My stomach knotted in horror.

"Hide in the closet," I told Raoul. "Hurry!"

I pushed him towards it, and he did as I said. Erik came into the room just as Raoul had concealed himself. He wore his white mask, and it shone brightly.

"Why were you talking?" he asked me.

"Oh, I was... praying," I replied.

"Oh... What for?"

"To give me peace. I've been anxious... Have you been composing?"

"Inspiration comes at odd times..."

He glanced down at the floor beside my bed. There was a puddle. Even in the darkness, it was visible.

He lit a candle, finding marble-like droplets in a perfect trail.

"We have a guest," he whispered.

Raoul burst out of the closet, nearly landing a blow, but Erik knocked him clean off his feet. Raoul gasped as he hit the floor. I gave a cry of horror, but I was paralyzed, rooted to the bed. My heart jumped into my throat as they struggled, wrestling together, then there was a flash of sharp metal in between them.

I screamed as I leapt off the bed to stop them. There was the sound of a knife being sliced through flesh. Dark liquid was pooling beneath them, but whose, whose? And Erik laughed, he laughed! Raoul!

"Christine, Christine!"

Erik shook me awake. I was sobbing, confused as he brought me back into reality. How real my nightmare had been, how vivid! I trembled all over uncontrollably.

"What happened?" he pleaded as I struggled to regain myself. "You screamed, what happened?"

"You killed him," I whispered. "You killed him."

"Shh, shh, I killed no one."

"Raoul, Raoul-!"

"Calm down, it was a nightmare, see?" He reached for me gingerly, and I let him hold me against him. "He's not dead. I wouldn't kill him, you know that. Then you would hate me."

I squirmed out of his grasp, "Go away. Get away from me."

"It was a dream-"

"You're a murderer! Even if it wasn't Raoul, you're a murderer!"

"Come now, please, calm down-"

He pinned me against himself as I struggled wildly.

"I'm not a murderer!" he told me. "Not anymore."

I shook my head, "Let me go, let me go-"

"Calm down first. You're not sensible."

I scratched at him with my nails, and he released me in surprise. I tumbled onto the stone floor, whimpering. He picked me up, taking care to pin my arms, but I was broken by then and put up no resistance. He took me into the kitchen and set me down at the table.

"I'm going to make you something to calm you," he said.

I set my head down on the white tablecloth. I could still see the blood. It had been so real... and Erik's laugh, like after Buquet, that hideous laugh of delight in death... the dark puddle beneath the two struggling bodies...

He placed a cup of something in front of me.

I whispered, "I don't feel well."

He touched my forehead, "You have a fever. You're right... Drink this, then I'll make you something for that."

"Will it make me sleep?"

"No."

"I don't want to sleep anymore..."

"It won't make you sleep. It will only calm you."

I shook my head.

"I'll force you," he said.

I tipped it to my lips. My hands were still trembling, and most of it spilled on my nightgown due to this. Erik handed me a napkin.

"I'm taking you away from here tomorrow," he said firmly. "I don't want you having more nightmares, not like this."

"But... my leg."

"I'm not letting you spend two more weeks down here," he insisted, distraught. "It's been too long for you down here. You don't belong in the darkness... and I can find a way to get you up there with your leg. I'll find a way."

He turned back to making my tonic, or whatever he was doing. I kept my head down on the table.

"I miss home," I whimpered. "I miss the opera house, too, and everyone... I miss home..."

"Then I'll take you home," he said, slamming his hand against the countertop in distress. "I will! At this point, I will... In two weeks, meet me at the train station. Tell whoever is with you that you're going to Perros."

"I don't understand."

"Pretend like you can't remember anything, but insist that you go there. If you don't arrive, I'll find you."

"You trust me not to run away?"

"I'll find you if you do. You know I will."

"I know..." I said faintly, still unable to comprehend. "Home... I'm going home..."

He gave me another glass. It put me in a daze. The darkness swirled in my vision. I could feel him carrying me, but I didn't understand what was going on exactly, or where I was. He brought me up to my dressing room and set me on the chaise longue. He told me the time, but I forgot it. The last thing he did was light a candle.

When I came out of my daze, the door to my dressing room was opening. I sat up in confusion.

"Hello?" I called.

Two blue eyes met mine. Raoul's mouth fell open as a bouquet of flowers tumbled out of his hands.

"C-Christine?" he whispered.

"I'm dreaming," I replied. "I'm dreaming-"

"You're not dreaming, you're not dreaming!" he cried, embracing me and covering me in kisses. "What happened? Are you all right? How are you here? Why is your leg in a brace?"

"My leg..." I remembered what Erik had said. "I can't remember."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't remember."