Ch 113

Not a word about Persia was spoken on the way to Dr. Khan's office, although I assumed it was due in part to the short distance we traveled from Bloom's to where Claude was recovering and also the amount of people taking advantage of a pleasant August day.

We arrived earlier than Madeline and discovered the front office manned by the same individual I had seen in the morning, only this time he was slumped over his book and sound asleep. He sat up when the door closed and wiped the spit from his lips.

"Dr. Khan isn't in," he mumbled.

"We are here for his patient in the back," I said.

The boy nodded and stretched, making no further comment as we walked down the hall past two exam rooms until we reached the office.

I opened the door to find Claude on the floor, his thin frame trapped between the chair and ottoman that had previously propped up his legs. His injured ankle was still on the cushion, but the rest of him was smashed between the two pieces of furniture.

"Claude," I gasped, rushing to his side with Phelan behind me. We collectively abandoned the bag from Bloom's and my brother's suitcase on Dr. Khan's desk in favor of tending to Claude. "My God, what happened to you?"

"I was thirsty, but I couldn't reach the tea," he answered. "The ottoman began to slide and I…I don't know. I couldn't catch myself and the next thing I knew I was stuck."

"How long have you been on the ground?" Phelan asked. He lifted Claude's leg behind his knee while I slid the ottoman out from beneath him. His injured leg with the bandage wrapped around his thigh was freshly stained bright red, indicating the wound had reopened.

"Not long," Claude said, his voice strained. Perspiration beaded his forehead, his face twisted in what I assumed was a great deal of pain. He looked as though he had engaged in a struggle to free himself and failed. "I tried calling for help, but I don't believe Dr. Khan is in the office."

The tea he had mentioned was also on the ground, the porcelain cup, saucer, and the pot that had previously held the water broken and scattered on the soaked rug.

With the ottoman moved aside, Claude attempted to pull himself toward the mess, but Phelan cleared his throat, garnering Claude's attention.

"What in God's name are you doing?" my brother questioned.

Claude stared up at him apologetically. "I can't leave a mess in Dr. Khan's office, not after all he has done for me."

With a roll of his eyes and a sigh of disgust, Phelan crouched down to pick up the broken shards. "Claude, I simply cannot decide if you are the most considerate patient Dr. Khan has ever had the pleasure of treating or simply a fool who has no idea how to sit still."

Claude bowed his head like a scolded child.

"I suspect it is the former. You are in no condition to be crawling about and I suggest you cease attempting to do such." Phelan tossed the broken pieces into a waste receptacle and stood, frowning at Claude. "I suppose the bandage is in need of changing."

Claude followed Phelan's gaze to his wounded thigh, his eyes bulging as he realized the wound to his thigh had been reopened in his fall. "What have I done?"

"Nothing that cannot be remedied with a fresh bandage and needed rest," I assured him.

We were in the midst of placing Claude back into the chair when a door in the rear of the building opened and closed. Moments later Dr. Khan entered his office, whistling to himself as he bustled in with his medical bag slung over his shoulder.

"Ah, good, Monsieur Kimmer, you are here. I'll take a look at that bump to your head."

"There is no need," Phelan said. He crossed his arms and slid his gaze toward Claude.

"Monsieur Gillis, how are we this… oh my." The physician placed his bag on his desk and muttered something in Arabic under his breath as he rummaged through the contents for fresh bandages, a bottle of ointment and scissors. Once he had everything set out on his desk, he excused himself, stating he needed to clean his hands before he began working on Claude's leg.

"What happened?" Kamil asked once he returned.

"I don't know," Claude said. He shrank in his chair as if he feared severed consequences to his actions.

"He fell," I answered. "Attempting to reach the tea."

Dr. Khan refrained from reprimanding Claude's actions in favor of cutting through the old bandage and swiftly treating the wound with a dark-colored ointment.

"I should have set the tea closer to you," Kamil said. " That is entirely my fault."

"I broke the china," Claude confessed.

"Ah, it was rather hideous, if I do say so myself. You've done me the favor of no longer looking at it."

He worked swiftly, his demeanor relaxed despite the gruesome nature of the task at hand. "Well, it certainly could have been worse," he said as he examined the injury. "The puncture itself doesn't appear any wider in diameter." He glanced up to meet Claude's eye, but his patient sat with his head back and eyes tightly pinched closed.

"I am glad to hear you say that, but I have no desire to see for myself," Claude said through his tightly clenched teeth.

"Understandable. The human body has always fascinated me, but that is not shared by everyone. Are you in need of additional pain medication?"

"Not yet," Claude replied, his trembling voice indicating he felt every bit of prodding to the wound.

"Deep breaths, Monsieur Gillis, I am almost done. Breathe in, breathe out." Kamil said. He took three deep breaths himself and Claude did the same while the doctor sat back and clasped his hands. "Let's give the puncture a moment to breathe like we did this morning."

Claude nodded. "Whatever you think is best."

"Did you have a pleasant visit with your sister?" Dr. Khan asked as he bunched up the dirty bandages and folded them into a towel. "The resemblance you share is uncanny."

"My sister?"

Dr. Khan lifted his gaze. "Is that not who I saw with you earlier this morning?" he asked, turning his attention to Phelan.

Claude struggled to sit upright, grimacing as he wriggled in his seat. "My sister? She is here? In Paris?"

I couldn't tell if he was pleased or anxious by the news, but Kamil instructed Claude to keep still as his leg began to bleed once more.

"She arrived early this morning via train," I answered. "And quite unexpectedly."

"Where is she now?"

"With my family freshening up."

With his good hand Claude grasped the arm of the chair and slowly nodded. "Good. I am glad she is safe. Please keep her away."

Phelan and I exchanged looks while Dr. Khan used a rag and applied pressure to the wound in order to stop the bleeding. "I urge you to sit still a moment longer, Monsieur Gillis."

"You don't want to see your sister?" Phelan asked.

"No, of course I want to see her, but I don't want Apolline to see me like this," Claude answered. "She will be frightened to death."

"On the contrary. She will be relieved to see you are alive," I said.

"Alive?" Claude questioned.

"She overheard a conversation about the shoe factory collapse," I explained. "There is apparently a rumor that no one survived."

Claude's mouth dropped open. He ran his hand over his hair and pressed his fingers to his temples. "There were other survivors, weren't there?" he questioned. "Terese? Henri? Please tell me there were others who made it through the night."

"That information has not been made available," I said.

Dr. Khan swiftly wrapped Claude's leg while he was distracted. "Done," he announced, though no one reacted.

Claude exhaled hard. "What should I do? What should I tell her?"

Footsteps pounded down the hall and I knew precisely who would burst unannounced into the office. I grabbed an olive green knit blanket from the back of Dr. Khan's desk chair and tossed it to Phelan, who swiftly draped it over Claude's legs, hiding the fresh bandage.

"Claude!" Alex yelled. He paused in the doorway and shouted over his shoulder. "I found him!"

"Alex," Claude said. There was no need to force a smile as he appeared genuinely relieved to see my son. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting! But only for a moment because I know you are in need of rest, however,I have a surprise for you," Alex announced. "One moment." He stepped back into the hallway and whispered. "This is where you are supposed to walk in because you are the surprise, remember?" Alex grinned and held out his arm, ushering Apolline into the office.

She nervously walked into the room, her hands in tight fists and arms straight at her sides. Her hair had been combed, the dress and coat that were too small for her replaced by a blue skirt and white blouse with a yellow sash that I assumed had once belonged to Lisette.

"Apolline," Claude whispered. He smiled in relief and motioned her forward, his fears vanquished once he saw his sister. "You're really here. My goodness, it is so good to see you."

Apolline froze in place for a long moment, her gaze anxiously darting around the crowded room filled with strangers. Madeline appeared behind her at last, finally catching up to the two children, and placed her hands on the girl's thin shoulders.

"Sit with him," Madeline said as she guided Apolline forward.

Apolline shyly stepped forward and perched on the edge of the wooden chair with uneven legs, her wide blue eyes fixed on her brother's bandaged hand. She frowned and swallowed hard, visibly shaken by his injury.

"Don't be afraid," he softly said.

"I'm not afraid," she whispered as she placed her fingers lightly across his knuckles. "Does this hurt?"

Claude shook his head. "It feels better now that you are here with me."

"Is your hand broken?" Apolline asked.

"Badly bruised as far as I can tell, but I'd like to take another look," Dr. Khan answered on Claude's behalf. "He is quite fortunate to have so many wonderful people concerned for his well being."

"How on earth did you get here?" Claude asked Apolline.

Apolline gently cradled Claude's bandaged hand in both of hers. "I rode a train," she answered. Her voice was so low that despite the small size of the office, I barely heard her speak.

"You rode the train all by yourself? You are so brave."

She leaned in, whispering again so that only he could hear her, and Claude nodded. "They are all my friends, but most especially Alexandre Jean Kire. You visited his home?"

"He and his sister have their own bedrooms," I heard her say. "His sister has a lot of dolls she let me see and Alex has one of your paintings above his bed."

Claude grinned. "You enjoyed meeting them?"

Apolline hesitated. "Yes, but…"

Claude turned his head to the side. "What is it, my darling sister?"

Her bottom lip jutted out. "Do I have to go back to their home? I want to stay here with you."

It was Claude's turn to hesitate. "Where would you sleep? On your head? This chair is terribly uncomfortable and the one you are sitting in wobbles."

"I will sleep on the floor behind the desk," Apolline answered.

Claude shook his head. "No, this is not a place for you to stay."

"I will be very quiet."

Claude leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I don't want you to sleep under a desk and be quiet. You are much too young for such a dull existence. You should be playing with dolls and thinking up games with children your age."

"But I don't want to leave you," Apolline wept, pulling her hands away.

"It will only be temporary."

"That's what you told me about The Elise." She half-heartedly shoved his right shoulder. "You lied to me!"

Madeline and I stepped forward in unison, but Claude shook his head. He rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, his shoulders sagging. "You are correct and I did tell you The Elise was only temporary. I deeply regret that you were forced to endure living in the girls' home for much longer than I hoped."

Apolline crossed her arms and slouched in her seat, her breaths ragged and eyes glassy. "You don't need me. You never needed me. That is why you never came for me."

Claude's lips parted in horror. He worked his jaw in silence before at last bowing his head. "That–that isn't true."

"Apolline," Phelan loudly whispered. He waited for her to acknowledge him and motioned for her to step into the hall. Reluctantly she slid out of the chair and stiffly marched outside to accompany my brother.

"What do you see from here?" Phelan asked. He crouched down beside her and nodded toward Claude.

"Nothing," she glowered.

Phelan inhaled. "The world is difficult to see through angry eyes. Why don't you take a deep breath?"

"I don't want to take a deep breath."

"Then look at me," he requested. Apolline turned her attention toward my brother and he narrowed his eyes. When she mirrored his expression, he stuck his tongue out at her.

As much as the child tried, she couldn't help but smile. "Why did you do that?"

"Because you are being quite stubborn and I don't care for insolence. Are your eyes less angry?"

She nodded.

"Good. Now I implore you to look again."

Apolline turned away and crossed her arms over her chest, but her defiance was short-lived. She looked at Claude from the corner of her eye, her lips twitching until they set into a deep frown.

"What do you see?" Phelan asked again.

"I see that he is very sad." She blinked away tears and swallowed. "Because of me."

"Who is the man sitting beside your brother?"

"The physician."

"Why is he there beside Claude?"

Apolline's face crumpled. "Because my brother was injured when the building fell."

Dr. Khan quietly removed the bandage from Claude's swollen left hand. He glanced over his shoulder, then at Claude and asked if he wanted the door closed, to which Claude shook his head. The young artist stared listlessly at a distant point across the room, the fingers of his right hand tapping the arm of the chair as he attempted to distract himself.

Phelan allowed Apolline a moment to watch Kamil tend to her brother before he lightly grasped her wrist. "Dr. Khan will make certain Claude heals physically," he explained.

"But he will still hurt," Apolline said softly. She gazed up at my brother. "You said he needed me, but I don't know how I can be useful."

"I did say that, didn't I? Have you asked your brother what he needs from you?"

Apolline sullenly shook her head.

"Would it be easier to ask if there were not so many people around?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Would you like me to handle this? I am quite good at issuing orders, being the older brother and such."

Apolline allowed a smile to peek through her sullen expression.

Phelan stood and took a deep breath. He gazed down at Apolline, winked, and proceeded to clear his throat. "I apologize for the secret nature of our discussion, but it was quite necessary to offer counsel as an elder sibling to a younger sibling." He guided Apolline forward. "My suggestion is to give them the afternoon in peace and privacy. Are there any objections?"

Apolline looked nervously around the room as though she expected someone would raise their hand and demand she be separated from her brother at once. Madeline smiled and placed her hand on Alex's arm, ushering him toward the door. He paused before he left and tapped Apolline on the shoulder. "I will leave your surprise lunch on the desk so that you don't forget."

The girl nodded and thanked him before returning to her brother's side. She bent forward at the waist and leaned against his good shoulder, whispering what I assumed was an apology, which Claude accepted with a kiss to her forehead.

"What is that wonderful smell? Lilacs?" he asked.

Apolline nodded and smiled at Madeline, who offered an encouraging nod in return. "A special cream to get the knots out of my hair," she explained to her brother. "No more pulling."

"I shall return before supper," I told Claude. "As long as Dr. Khan has no objection?"

Kamil didn't look up as he uncurled Claude's fingers and examined the extent of damage done to his hand. There was still a great deal of swelling and his flesh was discolored, but he seemed able to make a loose fist and fully extend his fingers. "None at all as long as the little mademoiselle can keep my patient still."

Apolline readily nodded. "I will," she agreed. "I will do whatever he needs."

"What I would appreciate more than anything is if you would tell me about the train ride," Claude suggested. "Tell me where you sat and what you saw. That will take my mind off of my hand."

I grabbed the bag from Bloom's and set it onto the desk. "Your supplies," I said as Apolline managed to squeeze into the armchair beside her brother. He placed his arm around her and tenderly kissed her temple, doing his best to mask the grimace of pain accompanied by her legs touching his injured thigh.

"First lesson when you return?" Claude asked.

"If you are up to it," I answered.

"Are you in need of anything else for the moment?" Dr. Khan asked as he began to wrap Claude's hand again. "I have more calls scheduled this afternoon, I'm afraid."

Claude shook his head. "I have everything I need."

OoO

Alex decided to run ahead of us on the way home. He paused at each intersection for us to catch up, then galloped, hopped, or skipped his way across the street in typical Alex fashion until he saw a group of boys he knew and asked if he could play with them.

"You have an hour," I said, knowing he would slay dragons or fight off pirates until dusk if not given a time at which to return.

"Thank you!" he said as he ran off.

Julia left a note by the front door stating she and Lisette were selecting fabric with Meg, but that they would be home in a few hours.

"Are you married?" Madeline asked my brother once she returned from the kitchen with the bottle of ointment and jar of salve she used to treat all ailments from bruises to burns and everything in between. She had been ordering both items from London for as long as I could recall, insisting that there was no better treatment than the ones that arrived by post.

"Not currently," he answered, suspiciously eyeing the bottle in her hand. "Are you offering your hand?"

Madeline blushed profusely, her eyes wide with surprise, and released a giggle that I would have expected from Lisette or Apolline. "Goodness, no," she said, motioning for him to turn his head to the side.

"Madame, I appreciate your concern, but I can assure you that I am not in need of medical care."

"I disagree."

"Dr. Khan did not see reason for further treatment," he pointed out.

Madeline scoffed. "Well, what does he know?"

I raised a brow. "Indeed. What does a practicing physician know compared to the former ballet mistress?"

Madeline shot me a warning look. "Sometimes it's simply a gut feeling," she said. "Now, Monsieur Kimmer, this may sting a bit, but no worse than a bee."

Phelan sighed. "By all means, Madame, if it pleases you, continue."

Madeline used a gauze pad dampened with ointment and proceeded to dab the liquid across my brother's temple where he had been scraped by falling debris. His flesh was noticeably swollen and red in appearance, but hardly life-threatening.

Phelan grimaced as the ointment soaked into his raw flesh. "A single bee or an entire hive?" he asked through his teeth.

"Give it a moment," she said, patting his shoulder.

"It gets significantly worse before it becomes tolerable," I added.

"Of course it does," Phelan muttered.

Again Madeline shot me a warning look. "It will need a moment to completely dry before I am able to apply the ointment."

"And that will burn slightly as well, I imagine?"

"Oh not at all," Madeline said, looking to me for confirmation.

"It's quite cooling," I said.

Aria sauntered into the parlor and paused beside the chair where my brother sat. Her tail flicked back and forth before she gracefully launched herself unexpectedly onto his lap.

"What in the–" Phelan groused, looking positively horrified by Aria's sudden presence. "Have you sent a beast from your menagerie to put me out of my misery?"

"As I was saying earlier, Monsieur Kimmer, you would make an absolutely wonderful father," Madeline said, ignoring his reaction to the cat. "Your disposition toward children is truly commendable."

Phelan sat rigid, his nostrils flared and gaze focused on the open window. His suitcase was still beside him as though at any given moment he might abruptly stand and return to the train station-quite possibly using the window in his escape.

"The bar for parenting, I'm afraid, was set so low for my childhood that it may as well have been on the ground," Phelan answered. Aria rubbed her head against his chest and he absently ran his hand down her spine. "Assuming you are aware of what our father lacked, Madame?"

Madeline solemnly nodded and screwed the lid back onto the bottle. "I have heard."

"I suppose I'm not surprised that Erik trusts you with such details."

Madeline looked from Phelan to me and narrowed her eyes, silently evaluating the situation. She pushed Phelan's hair back from his temple and pretended to examine the injury. "Were you close to your uncle?" she asked.

Phelan blinked, his body still quite rigid. "I was not."

"Who looked after you, then?"

"I cared for myself," he brusquely answered. "Alak was frequently gone for days at a time, so whatever was in need of doing, Valgarde and I did for ourselves until…" He worked his jaw in silence. "Until we moved here to Paris, which I had hoped would be a fresh start."

"How old were you when you moved to Paris?" Madeline asked, placing the ointment into her skirt pocket.

"Fourteen," he answered. "Valgarde had a distant aunt or cousin, I can never remember which, who never married, but who had inherited a great deal of money. She resided in a fairly large apartment that she had no desire to share with anyone else, but quite begrudgingly she accepted her nephew out of charity. Me? I was not fortunate enough to be considered family."

"I thought the two of you lived together," I said. "You lived elsewhere?"

"No, we did live together," Phelan answered. "She allowed him to occupy a small, drafty room filled with her old rubbish and a bed pushed into the corner and I was given the option of sleeping on the rug or in the alley. I picked the rug. Better to be a lowly dog in front of the fireplace than a stray fending for itself on the street, I suppose."

The very notion angered me that my brother had been mistreated upon arrival in Paris. With Madeline's assistance, I had found a fresh start in an unfamiliar city while my older brother continued to suffer.

"How long did you live there?" I asked.

"Six year, I believe?" Phelan replied.

Madeline gasped in horror, and Phelan spread his hands.

"His aunt passed away about seven months after we arrived, so the apartment was relinquished to someone else in the family who didn't want it and in turn offered to sell the property to Val, who would have accepted if he'd had a single franc to his name. The family member then offered to rent it to us for an obscenely low fee and given our limited options and the size of the living space, we would have been mad if we passed up such an arrangement."

Madeline opened the jar of salve and told my brother to tilt his head back.

"Cooling, you said? I suppose you mean to say it will feel like frostbite."

"No, no, you will find this one soothing and with a very pleasant smell."

She looked to me for confirmation and I nodded despite never finding the scent particularly appealing. The salve Madeline had given me to treat the wounds my mask caused by rubbing against my cheekbones smelled too strongly of mint for my preference.

Phelan inhaled and closed his eyes. "Very well then."

"Now, I don't want to get this in your hair," she said as she combed her fingers along his temple, sweeping the strands away from his face.

Phelan's lips twitched, his right eye popping open to briefly observe his caretaker. "Is that necessary?" he grumbled.

Madeline smiled back at him. "Yes, now relax."

Phelan exhaled and crossed his arms, sitting rigid as a corpse.

"Is this considered relaxed for you?" Madeline questioned.

"No."

Madeline remained undeterred by his petulant ways. Given she had thirty years of experience with me, I wasn't surprised that she simply smiled to herself and proceeded.

"You were fortunate to have your cousin with you when you arrived in Paris," she commented.

Phelan gave the barest shrug of his shoulders. "Not really. We've always been two different people," he said with his eyes closed. "Val enrolled in the school around the corner from where we lived at the insistence of his aunt while I found the seediest salon on the other side of the city and spent my time with the undesirable crowds of unknown artists and musicians swapping ideas, sharing meals and each other's beds."

"Quite hedonistic," Madeline commented. She cocked a disapproving brow. "Salon de Vive, I presume?"

Phelan gave a close-lipped smile and chuckled to himself. "The Salon de Vive: Where the lost can be found," he said. "Is Madame Giry familiar with the establishment?"

"By name and unseemly reputation only. My girls were not allowed anywhere near that rat-infested hole."

I recognized the name as well. The salon had been on the side of the city where Madeline had expressly forbid me to step foot, and as much as I desired the forbidden, an unfortunate incident where I locked myself out of the theater and a handful of times witnessing muggings or other acts of violence kept me close to the only home I had ever wanted to return to at the end of the day. For the first time in my twelve years, I'd been safe from harm and relished my underground home and the tranquility it had allowed me.

"I hope the girls in your care eventually realized how fortunate they were to have someone claim them. I realized from the moment I stepped foot in this damnable city that I could have writhed in an alley or drowned in a sewer and not a soul would have looked for me."

"Joshua would have been heartbroken," I said.

"Depending on the day, he may have shed a tear or danced in the street."

Madeline paused with a dab of salve the size of a pea on the tip of her finger. She frowned at his words and looked at me from the corner of her eye. Gently she applied the ointment, stroking her finger along my brother's temple until his features softened.

"Surely you made friends at the salon," she said.

"Elvira," Phelan replied. "The rest were acquaintances at best."

Madeline's eyebrows raised, her interest piqued. "Oh?"

"My scarlet macaw," he clarified. The memory made him smile while Madeline looked disappointed that Elvira was not a sordid love interest. "Elvira was more of a plucked chicken back then due to the stress of her surroundings, but I suppose we found a poetic kinship in our alienation from the world. She took to me immediately and one night, when everyone was passed out drunk or occupied with more primal desires, I unchained her from the perch where she had been imprisoned for the first two years of her life and took her home with me. We have been together ever since."

"You stole her?" I questioned.

"Is it truly stealing if one takes an unwanted creature from a less than ideal situation?"

I wasn't entirely certain he spoke exclusively of the bird, but refrained from asking. "I had no idea that was how you obtained Elvira."

Phelan's eyes opened and he stared at me briefly, his slate eyes hardened. "A man as secretive as you is surprised that you don't know every detail of my past?"

I stared back at him, the sting of his words biting into me. "It was merely an observation."

Phelan grunted. "I have given you another insight into my life that comes with no heavy fee."

"Lan-"

"Phelan," he growled. "How many times must I tell you?"

Madeline screwed the lid back on the jar and set it down hard on the pedestal beside my brother's chair, causing us both to jump in surprise and Aria to leave the parlor entirely.

"What is this?" she sternly questioned once she had our attention.

Phelan and I exchanged looks. I thought for certain he would grab his suitcase and stalk from the room, but he merely stared at me in silence, his expression unreadable.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked Madeline.

"You know what I mean." She waved her right hand around, gesturing wildly. "What has happened between the two of you?"

Neither of us spoke readily, two grown men turned into tongue-tied boys in the presence of a stern parent. Madeline sighed and crossed her arms. "I suggest one of you answer at once."