You cannot find knowledge by rearranging your ignorance.

There's hate and love and all the pretty words in between.

I wasn't sure how long I'd lied there, crumpled up on the floor before I mustered the strength to pull myself to my feet. Fresh air sounded grand rather than decaying here, in the dank moldy cellars. So, I took step after shaky step, inching my way up the stairs, intent on getting outside. My vision rocked like a damn fishing-boat and I let my hand slide along the wall for support. I thought I could still hear a few voices and the clinking of glass, floating up from the foyer. The Bal Masque had long been over. Perhaps there were a few stragglers or kitchen staff cleaning up trays and champagne glasses. Whatever the explanation, I didn't really want anyone seeing me in this state. There was still a vast portion of the company that didn't know of my "deception" and I was certainly in no condition to give lengthy explanations if I were discovered. There was one place where I could be sure no one else would be loitering this time of night—the roof.

I was ten times more appreciative of the frigid January air after crawling up another wretched staircase. The city looked so still, so serene at…3?...4?...in the morning. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, welcoming the chill against my skin. When I opened my eyes again, the buildings and statues were spinning and I suddenly found myself looking up rather than down. My backside felt very wet and numbingly colder than the rest of my body.

"Not exactly blessed with the gift of grace, are you?"

Unmoving, I sighed irritably. "If I close my eyes and wish really hard will you go away?"

"If you would get your shivering, Neanderthal carcass off the ground, I might consider it."

I must've looked something akin to a fish—or a sea lion—rolling and flopping my limbs around to pull myself up. Erik even looked ready to come to my aid until I scowled at him.

"Don't touch me or I'll show you Red Death stalking abroad." I put my hand on the statue of Apollo for support.

"Dare I ask why you're out here this time of night, in the dead of winter, in such a refined state?"

"Ask away, don't expect a short answer."

"Go back to bed, Maggie—inebriation doesn't become you."

"To hell with you!" I spat. "This is your fault; you drive a girl to drink." He didn't reply. "Why I bet a hundred francs Christine takes a swig or six on the sly, ever since she met you."

I realized it was a rather uncouth assumption when Erik's eyes turned dangerously bright with anger. "Touchy subject?" I ventured, fully aware I was treading on shaky ground.

"You'd better get inside before I do something I might regret."

I made some unladylike noise and laughed. "Regret? You? Aren't you just a walking paradox…" when he didn't answer again, I continued, full throttle. "Why so silent, good Monsieur? Something's brewing in that puerile brain of yours. You've never had a problem speaking honestly before."

I was vaguely aware that the sky was lightening to a dull unpromising gray and Erik was getting more restless and agitated with me. What did I care? All I knew at that moment was that I wanted to hurt Erik. I wanted him to hurt as I much as I did.

"Fine, don't answer me! Just go crawling back to Christine, you pitiful dog!"

I was suddenly seized by the shoulders and shoved back into the base of Apollo. Erik was seething with fury. Instead of being afraid, I relished in my moment of triumph—of degrading him.

"Go ahead, kill me! Take the easy way out. You always do." His grip loosened and after a pause, he stepped away, the look on his masked face, unreadable. I won.

"I have more important matters to attend to." I won…? He turned away, heading for the door. My thoughts were so muddled. My head began to spin again, I was confused.

In a drunken stupor, I followed and cried out in girlish desperation, "She doesn't love you! She won't ever love you, so give up the chase!"

His reaction, unfortunately, was not the next thing I saw, but rather a face-full of slush-coated cement. And I just lied there, not bothering to get up, not wanting to see his reaction. I suppose any other girl would've cried out of pain or embarrassment or both. I was too exhausted to cry. Then, it was as if my body were floating and I was looking down from the sky only to be shifted over to look up into Erik's eyes.

"Why do you insist on being so obstinate?" He mumbled.

Still floating in a world in shades of gray and black, I believe the last thing I said was something along the lines of, "I'm going back to sleep for one hundred years. When I wake up, you should be gone."

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my own bed. Erik was gone, but on the stand next to the bed were two white tablets, a glass of water, and a note.

Take one now and one later if you wish to recover in a timely manner. Don't worry—I wouldn't dare try to poison you.

-E.

Ugh, just the thought that he said it…"How thoughtful," I muttered, shocked at how ghastly my voice sounded. Dragging my heavier-than-lead body to the edge of the bed, I reached for the water and pill and downed them, washing away the foul taste in my mouth. No sooner had I when my door swung open, light flooding in. Jacques came in holding a bowl and a glass.

"Christ…don't you know how to knock?" I rasped.

"Good afternoon to you, too, sun beam."

"Afternoon?"

"Well, it's a little past noon, really. Figured you would be craving some rehydration at the least, but…" he eyed the tablet and empty glass on the nightstand, "I see somebody beat me to it." He glanced at the note. "E?"

"Um, yeah…Edel must've dropped by while I was knocked out." I explained quickly. I wasn't sure if he bought it.

The company had the day off as it was an unofficial tradition to have the day after the Bal Masque to recuperate. I took advantage of it by sleeping another couple of hours. The rest of the late afternoon I spent checking up on friends, Meg and Christine being last.

"Maggie!" Meg gasped, then smiled and yanked me through the door. How someone could be so unshakably perky after drinking themselves into oblivion the night before…it's inhuman.

"Awwe, it's such a shame seeing you back in that rag bag. You looked so breathtaking last night, it's unbelievable!"

I thanked her and asked how she was holding up. "Surprisingly well," she replied, "Although, I don't know if I can say the same for Christine. She's been shut up in her dressing room all day."

"What?"

"Yes…or so I assume. She disappeared so suddenly…I doubt she would've gone home without telling me, but I haven't seen her since last night."

That seemed a might strange. Without explanation, I excused myself and left the ballet dorms, Christine's room being my next destination. Christine hadn't been seen since last night…

"Go through the exit and come back through an employee entrance. Go on!"

Perhaps, she gone to her Mama Valerius—I remembered her mentioning the old invalid once or twice—or else…the only other option made my stomach drop and I picked up my pace.

"Christine?" I rapped on the door. No answer. The door was unlocked, so I let myself in. The room was dark and empty. I was just about to walk out when I noticed a black lump on the floor by the full-length mirror—Christine's mask. And then, I was sure of where she'd gone.

"Damn you, Erik."

Whatever Erik gave me in the early afternoon worked miracles physical-wise. Emotionally, I was still a wreck. To my chagrin, Jacques noticed. I was sitting at the Café De L'Opera glaring viciously into my coffee cup when he sat down across from me.

"If you say "penny for your thoughts" I'll melt your face with hot coffee."

"Hadn't even crossed my mind, but now that you mention it…" He was being light-hearted as always, but it gave my heavy heart no comfort. "I ran into Edel."

"Mmm, How is Edel?"

"Oh, fine—a little worried about you. Quite frankly, so am I."

"I'm surviving. It's not the first hangover-,"

"Who is 'E'?"

When he saw I wasn't going to answer, he added, "Don't use Edel as a cover. She was nowhere near the Opera today."

"I don't know, then. Clearly, assumed it was her." Jacques wasn't convinced.

"Don't you trust me?"

"What are you going on about?"

"There's something you're trying very hard to keep from me. I'm not as daft as you think."

"I have to go—stuff to do." I got up, leaving my unfinished coffee.

"Maggie, please—," I quickly scanned the tables to make sure no one heard my Christian name. There were still some that didn't know. "Please...if you need to talk, don't be afraid to come to me." I gave a dismissive nod and left.

The watch on the nightstand told me nothing of value except for how many minutes of my life had ticked away into oblivion. If a clock could reach infinity…

In all that time, I assessed the current nightmare. I'd not clearly seen my partner's face, but I felt comfortable with him; trusted him wholeheartedly. Perhaps it was Joseph or even Jacques. The snake, an easy guess…Erik, tearing us apart then continuing to drag me behind him, wounding me every step of the way. That's the only translation that made sense.

And then, my thoughts journeyed deeper. I thought of Erik. I thought of Jo and of Ma, Da, and Kessy…and of Danny. I thought of the pain and disappointment I brought to each and every one. And over each memory, every selfish incident…I couldn't remember ever being sorry. Of course, I had nothing to be sorry about when it came to Erik. As I said, I didn't know that I'd ever be able to forgive all the wrongs he'd done me, but I still couldn't find it in my heart to condemn him.

"Jo, out of all the ladies you've chased after in Maycullen…did'ja ever love any of 'em?"

"Stop askin' me stupid questions."

"Don't be snide with me, I just want to know."

"What do ya want to know for? You're only twelve!"

"I got to know what it's supposed to look like when the time comes…do you find it or does it find you?"

"Da used to say that "love is a lot like lightning. It will strike at random—it doesn't have a system." I haven't found anything like that in Maycullen. There was a girl, once…Jinny Mulligan."

"That blonde baboon? She looks like the wrong end of a cat, and couldn't count sheep to put her to sleep!"

"Ma would box your ears, hearin' ya talk like that. Jinny wasn't all that bad. There's more to her than meets the eye. In the end, though, it turned out to just be nothing but an infatuation on both our parts."

"What's that?"

"Something to be wary of. There's a fine line between love and infatuation, Magpie, and don't confuse the one with the other. Infatuation-difficult to explain. It's one of those "you had to have been there" moments. It's a feeling, different for every person, I suppose, just as love is. But it's not as strong or long-lasting as love." He sighed wearily. "I don't know—go ask Ma."

And so I did ask Ma. And wished I hadn't.

"Why, does my little sprite have her eye on someone in particular?"

"No, I was only curious. When I find it—will it be like the way you love Da?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Maggie! I didn't love your father when I married him."

"Then…then why did you marry him?"

"It was a good match in my parent's eyes, and I had to agree. I couldn't have done much better."

When she saw how crestfallen I'd become she changed her tone. "Over time, I came to appreciate and, yes, even love him. Mind you, there were times I wanted to ring his neck as I'm sure he did mine. But we kept each other grounded. You can't expect love to always be there in the beginning. Sometimes you must give it time to grow like anything else in this world. Otherwise, you may spend a sorry portion of your life, searching, when it was waiting for you all along."

She had wanted me to wait. Crochet my youth away at the window seat and wait…wait. But it wasn't in me to sit around and wait for answers. Patience was not a Buquet virtue.

And so, it occurred to me-this brewing feeling I have for Erik isn't anything close to love—how ridiculous I was in thinking so! This must be what Joseph was talking about. It's just an infatuation, nothing more. I felt slightly relieved coming to terms with that. This feeling was only temporary—a "squatter." It would pass. In the meantime, I would help him along in whatever way I could in his pursuit of Christine. That way, I could still be around him and practice this new care-free sensation to the point where I wouldn't think of him at all, anymore. He would get what he wanted, Christine would realize how much she really needed him in her life and I would learn to be happy for the bizarre couple and move on. End of story. I held more regard for him than the Vicomte, anyway.