Chapter Three

The ballet girls were sitting on the floor in a huddle around one girl when Madame Giry and Alison got to the dormitory. "He was there! I saw him, I'm telling you! He was standing outside the prima donna's dressing room and I saw him. He was dressed all in black with a big long cloak."

Madame Giry sighed. She banged her stick on the ground and all of the girls looked around.

"Girls, please meet our new student…"

"Angelique Taylor." Alison filled in. Angelique had been her name in French class, and she thought it was appropriate considering that now she was in the Opera Populaire, the home of the real Angel of Music.

"She is from America and will be starting school tomorrow. Anastasie, please find Angelique a place to sleep." Madame Giry made as if to leave, then stopped. "And Paulette, please refrain from discussing him in such a way. You know that, if he chooses, he can hear you wherever he is. You would do better to hold your tongue. Do you understand?"

The girl who had been speaking when they arrived blushed and nodded. Madame Giry nodded back and left the dormitory.

A girl who seemed to be two or three years older than Alison stood up. "Bonjour. My name is Anastasie. I will show you where you will sleep for the time you are with us." She smiled. "If you have questions about anything, feel free to ask me."

Anastasie took her to an empty bed. "Here you are. Do you have any personal belongings?"

"No." Alison hesitated. "But I do have a question."

"Of course. Ask it and I will answer as best I can."
"Who was that girl Paulette talking about when I came in?" She thought she knew the answer, but she just wanted to be sure.

Anastasie's face went white. "No one," she said softly. "And if you are smart, you will not ask again. This place has secrets that are meant to remain so."

Alison began her study at the ballet school the next day. She had taken a couple of ballet lessons when she was younger, and, although she was a beginner, she had no great difficulty in learning. Fortunately, the story she had told about herself on the first day made allowances for her lack of knowledge. She immediately made friends among the other girls and her French improved daily. She adjusted very quickly to life in the Opera Populaire.

About a month after she arrived at the Opera Populaire, Madame Giry made an announcement.

"You have all worked very hard and learned much in your time with us. But learning does not just come from doing. It also comes from watching. So you will learn by watching some of the best dancers. We will be going to Italy to watch the production of Swan Lake for the weekend-"

She had to stop there because all of the girls started talking and screaming at once. The sound carried on until she banged her stick sharply against the ground. Everyone stopped and turned to listen again.

"Pack a change of clothes and anything else you believe is necessary. We will be leaving in half an hour, so you must hurry. You all will be representing this place as soon as you leave the building, so I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. If not, we will not be taking trips of this kind again. Is that understood?"

There was a general affirmative murmur and then everyone sprinted out of the room to pack. Alison was swept along in the tide of people, just as excited to go as all the others. They reached the dormitory and started frantically throwing things in their bags. Once everyone was packed they ran downstairs to the door.

"Vingt-sept, vingt-huit, vingt-neuf, trente. That is everyone. Time to go!" Madame Giry murmured. She and the other teachers herded the students into carriages. The style of it reminded Alison of the way teachers did things in field trips at home. She was about to step into the carriage when she remembered something. She had left her lucky charm underneath her pillow! Her father had given her a stone wolf for her eighteenth birthday and she always carried it around with her. She had put it under her pillow to make sure it didn't get lost but she had forgotten it in the rush to pack. Alison got out of her place in line and slipped into the opera house. No one saw her go.

She sprinted to the dormitory, grabbed the wolf, and ran back, hoping beyond hope that no one had noticed her absence. She tried to open the door quietly and slip out again, but the door didn't budge. She tried harder. No luck. She looked out through one of the windows in the front of the opera house and felt a prickle of fear when she realized that the carriages outside were gone.

All right, she told herself, all you have to do is try one of the other doors. You can get out that way and catch up to them. They can't have gone far. She went around the building and tried to open every single one of the doors that led to the outside. Each one was locked. She was really starting to get scared but tried to calm herself by taking a couple of deep breaths. What should I do now?

Panicking more as the hours went by, she ran around frantically trying to find another way out. Catching up to the carriages was forgotten. She needed to find a way out of here, and fast. It was getting darker and darker and soon she wouldn't be able to see anything at all. Then an idea hit her, an idea so obvious she felt like hitting herself on the head for not thinking of it sooner. The tunnels! This place was riddled with tunnels and passageways and secret entrances for the Phantom of the Opera. He probably doesn't just walk out the front door when he needs to leave, she reasoned. There was only one place in the opera house that she knew where to access the tunnels. Hesitatingly, and a little nervously, she made her way to the prima donna's dressing room. The book/musical had been right about so many aspects of the Opera Populaire. She just hoped that it was right about this one.

She pushed open the door and gasped quietly at the opulence of the place she had just walked into. It was a large dressing room with expensive wallpaper on all of the walls. Pictures hung all over the place and almost every available surface was covered with roses. On the other side of the room, almost exactly opposite to the doors, stood a large, full-length mirror. Looking at the mirror reminded her that she had not come here just to stare. For a moment she allowed herself to pretend she was Christine. In her mind's eye, she could almost see the mysterious black figure with the white half mask.

"Angel of music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory! Angel of music, hide no longer. Come to me, strange angel!" she softly sang in her head as she walked towards the mirror. But as she reached the glass, she realized one important thing. She didn't know how to get through the mirror. She spent some time fumbling around with it and then her finger hit a catch in the gilded frame. There was a strange sensation of being lifted. All of a sudden, she found herself standing in complete blackness.

She cursed herself for not thinking of the fact that there was absolutely no light at all in the tunnels. Maybe this plan wasn't the best after all, she thought.