15

Erik listened to his niece's account of the Dargoa's visit. The words struck a warning chord in his brain, and he handed her several slender lengths of rope and the tiny pistol that had once belonged to her mother.

"You must carry these at all times now, Katrina, do you understand?" She took them solemnly, her great eyes gazing into his face earnestly.

"What's wrong? He can't find you, can he?" Erik had told her of the Daroga before, and she knew perfectly well that the man would not let her uncle go a second time if he learned that the Phantom was still alive.

"No, child, no." Erik stroked her cheek gently. "But if he thinks there may be another looking, I do not doubt his word. I cannot follow you every moment and would not leave you unprotected. Keep these close," He said folding her fingers about the weapons, "and be ever watchful."

Her mind turned over the warning as she stowed the items in her dress the next morning. She knew that there were bad people, and that her uncle was not someone to talk about freely. The idea of hiding from a hunter went from a vague shadow to a very real event. She didn't doubt that the Daroga would believe her if she spoke of the ghost as he had the day before. Yet, she felt it was safest to say next to nothing about it.

When she arrived at Marie's apartments with Tomino in tow, Madame was busy making a list for all the needed items Christmas demanded. Helen was happily ignoring the endless flow of words as she drew an outline on a sheet of paper. Marie looked positively stormy and was demanding to know what was wrong with her current decorations.

"What decorations, dear?" Madame asked blandly. "Really, I can't imagine how a wreath and a poinsettia from the hot house constitute festive items."

Katrina shut the door, and pointed Tomino to the rug. Helen beamed at them, but stopped her work at the sight of the girl's pensive face. "What happened, Katrina? Is something wrong at home?"

"The Daroga came by yesterday to see you and Marie," she answered, going over to the plump woman's chair and leaning against the arm. "He said that someone was trying to hunt the Phantom of the Opera."

Hurriedly setting aside her art tools, Helen put the child in her lap, and smoothed back the wild hair. "He said this to you?"

"No, to me for the most part." Madame sniffed, and looked disapprovingly around the dressing room and adjoining bedroom. "I thought Katrina should stay to give him anything she knew or had heard."

"Mama, how could you!" Helen cried, torn between anger and concern. "Katrina's been upset by this, couldn't you see that?"

Marie went and knelt before her sister and the girl. "There is nothing to be afraid of, Katrina. If you ever wish to stay rather than walk home in the dark, no one will begrudge you a place here."

The brown eyes gazed into the green ones sadly. "I'm not afraid for me, I have this," she displayed the pistol briefly to the great shock of Madame. "I'm afraid for Uncle Erik. If something happens, I shall have to live without him forever." Having voiced that idea at last, she began to cry.

Marie had never seen the child afraid of anything, let alone weeping, and sat back with a sense of dread. Madame shook her head, and peered through her glasses. "I don't see what the fuss is about. This Phantom or ghost has nothing to do with us whatsoever."

Helen made a decision and turned to glare at her mother quite pointedly. "The Phantom is real, Mama. From what you were rambling about the whole night after you fell, you ought to believe in him too." Madame shifted uneasily and kept her eyes on the list before her. Helen went on, allowing a rare temper to take over. "I can't believe you are just sitting there, ignoring what Katrina is facing. She's afraid enough to carry a pistol around, does that signify nothing to you?"

Marie agreed. "It's not something to ignore, Mama,"

"Oh, I really don't see,"

"No, you haven't seen, and that's the trouble!" Helen snapped. "Erik is the phantom, and Katrina will be without family should anything happen to him."

The soprano gazed blankly at her sister. "I think you've taken leave of your senses, Helen."

"No, I haven't. I think," She pated Katrina's back soothingly. "I think Katrina should have him come and talk to us. If only to teach mother to curb her tongue and stay out of things she doesn't understand!"

"Helen!" Madame cried, surprised by the curt tone in her daughter's voice.

"It's true; you were just too interested to pass up a chance to pry." Helen stated emphatically. "Katrina, go get your uncle, and tell him I'm asking, not demanding. I do think, however, it would do us good to have everything out in the open." She glared defiantly at the other two women, daring them to disagree.

When no one said anything else, Katrina slid down and went to the mirror, pushing on the side carefully. As it opened, she stepped through, and it shut behind her. Madame reached for her smelling salts, and sniffed deeply.

"What I have gone through on this visit!"

"You've earned every moment." Helen remarked flatly.

It was some time before Marie stopped staring at the mirror, and returned to her breakfast. Perhaps an hour latter there was a knock at the door. Puzzled, Helen answered, to reveal Katrina holding a thin man's hand and an earnest look in her eyes.

The man tilted his covered head, and stepped in quickly. "Katrina has told me what is passing here." The voice was soft, but carried perfectly. "What do you want of me?"

The voice struck terror into Madame, and she leaned back in her chair as if that would remove her from his presence. "You! You are death!"

"You would have met death had I come along that night, Madame D'Arcy." He said warningly. "I can guarantee that fate as well as prevent it."

Helen wrung her hands. "Katrina says that there may be someone after you. What can we do?"

"Say nothing and be vigilant for Katrina." He said simply. "I dwell where none go, but she cannot be so easily hidden." There was a wry tone to the statement, as if he had tried and failed to hide the girl.

Marie was shaken, but being a performer held herself in control and pointed towards a chair near the fire. "Would you care to sit, Monsieur?"

He nodded, and took the seat and Katrina clambered into his lap. Tomino sniffed the black shoe and grunted mildly. It seemed so strange to see the child with the fabled uncle, Marie wondered if she were dreaming. The man spoke slowly, so they could absorb what he was saying.

"The Daroga was acquainted with me when I was in India. He came here when…when the business with Christine happened." He rubbed Katrina's hair in his gloved fingers absently. "Not long after there was an article stating I had died, so I believed I would. Die of love for Christine. Without her, I had no reason to continue, for I have had few things worth doing in my life. Before the add reached far, however, I received a letter from my sister's child." Katrina turned her eyes up to his face, and listened intently. "This is now my new Christine, the new reason for life."

It was a simple statement, but clearly one Katrina had never considered. Her brows knitted in thought, and she studied her hands while her brain worked. The Phantom rested his own hand on her head, and continued in a more genial strain.

"The Persian thinks I am dead, and believes someone is pretending to be the opera ghost. Yet, he clearly has reason to think someone is stalking the ghost. It is better if he continues in the idea I am no more, and does not know Katrina is connected to me. Only then can I be certain of whom might be after our happiness."

Madame had clearly been silent long enough, and stood to come closer. Thinking better of it, she sat on the divan, and tapped her cane. "What makes you think we are obligated to keep this a secret?"

"A fair point, but you forget who I am." Erik said coolly. "So long as you act in the interest of my niece, I will act in yours. That much I can promise."

"And how can we reach you?" Helen asked, "What if something should go amiss?" Her adventurous spirit began rising at the prospect of a grand game of cloak and dagger. Erik considered her for a moment before answering.

"Katrina will show you." He stood, setting the child on her feet. "I have things to attend to. Au revoir."

With that, he vanished through the mirror.