Chapter Thirteen
Sleep...angels will watch over you...and soon, beautiful dreams will come true...can you feel spirits embracing your soul? So dream, as secrets of darkness unfold....- -Hayley Westenra
The Fallen Angel's Lullaby
Erik woke to an aching back and a sore neck, leaning against a wall, hard and uncomfortable. Blinking in the light, he looked around in confusion…he was in Raven’s stall. He didn’t even remember falling asleep there. Outside the stall he heard so much noise, people moving and talking all at once. One voice shouted out, “Maurice! There’s a man asleep in the black horse’s stall, wearing some odd mask and fancy clothes, probably drunk or crazy…get rid of him!”
Odd mask. Someone was coming after him. Erik hurried to his feet, waking Raven, who gave him a friendly nudge in the chest. Not now, he thought as he rushed out of the stall, closing the door behind him. He turned around and came face to face with an irritable-looking groom. “That’s right! Get out of here, you crazy drunk!” the man yelled, with a blast of foul-smelling breath.
Erik seethed. Other people were so infuriating. “I am a guest here at the hotel, and that is my horse. Now get out of my way,” he snarled. The man backed away, nodding to him and looking at the ground, trembling where he stood. Erik stormed past him, movingtoward the open stable doors ahead, but not before colliding with another man as he came walking briskly around the corner. The man was sent stumbling back after Erik nearly mowed him down. The man’s top hat, which he had been wearing tilted slightly sideways, fell off his head onto the cobblestones.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, friend,” the younger man said, stooping to pick up his hat. He put it back on, making sure to have it tilt a little to the left once again.
Erik just shook his head in irritation and moved around him, but not before the other man took a long, hard look at him, and not before Erik saw his eyes flash with surprise.
It must be the mask, he thought angrily. This was why he didn’t like direct encounters with other people.
He stepped out of the stable and into blinding sunlight. Instantly his hands came up to cover his eyes as the hot light seemed to burn straight through him. Oh, hell. He was out in the sun.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he whirled around to face the stranger. “Light burns your eyes doesn’t it? Try a cold bath, or a steaming cup of tea,” said an unfamiliar man, who looked like another one of the grooms. “Always makes me feel better after a wild night.” He elbowed Erik in the ribs, who backed away from him, squinting in the bright light. “That must have been quite a party you went to…how did you ever end up in that crazy costume and passed out in a horse stall? Now that’s a story I’d like to hear.” The groom laughed.
Erik had had enough. Without answering, he walked off quickly down the lane back to the hotel, untilhe found the place where his first-floor room was. The window still hung open from last night. He climbed up through it, stepping onto a damp towel, undoubtedly placed there by Alana to clean up the water that must have blown in during last night’s rainstorm. He turned around and discovered Alana herself, asleep on the small couch at the foot of the bed. Why was she there? He closed the window and the curtains, and the noise woke her.
"You’re back,” she exclaimed, yawning and sitting up. She blinked, then grinned mischievously. “That means…” she paused for dramatic effect, “…you had to go out in the sun to get here.”
Erik almost rolled his eyes with annoyance. “Yes. I did,” he answered coldly.
“And you’re still here,” she said, smiling. “You didn’t go blind, or melt, or anything terrible like that. It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, was it?”
Erik thought of his experiences out in the morning. It had been too bright, toowarm, and he had been forced to encounter too many people. Still, he had survived, as Alana pointed out, but he wasn‘t about to let someone win an argument with him. “Yes. It was.” He could see her taking in his disheveled appearance…she was amused by it. He looked down and noticed for the first time that he had straw all over him, stuck on his clothes, maybe even in his hair. How humiliating.
“I’m sure that you could become used to going outside. It might even do you some good...” Alana’s expression changed from amusement to concern.
Erik had had enough of this subject. “What are you doing in here?” She was startled by his sudden, rather harsh interjection, but she regained herc omposure.
“I’m sorry if I…er, surprised you,” she apologized. “What happened was, I accidentally locked my key inside my own room, and when I went to the front desk to see if they had another, the clerk couldn’t find a replacement. They were going to send for a locksmith this morning and give me another room while I waited, but I told them that wasn’t necessary.”
“Why?” Erik wanted to know.
“Because you’re good at opening locks,” Alana said. “Aren’t you? How else did you get into all those closed, locked shops in Détente?”
She was right about that. Erik reached into his jacket pocket and took something out. “With this.”
“What is it?” Alana got up and moved closer to investigate.
He held out a little silver key in the palm of his hand, and she took it, examining its smooth surface with different designs of skulls all over it. “It’s a skeleton key,” heexplained. “It can open most doors, and will probably open the one to your room. Come.”He went out of the room to Alana’s, and she followed. Just in case, he ran a hand through his hair. No straw. What a relief. Then he motioned toward the locked door. “Try it.”
She went to the door and put the silver key into the lock. Erik watched her eyes grow wide as the key turned, and the door opened when she turned the knob.
“It worked! I knew it would. Thank you.” She handed the key back to him, beaming. “That’s so interesting. Where did you ever get a key like that?”
“I made it,” Erik said, shifting uncomfortably where he stood. Inexplicably, he was finding it hard to meet her bright, smiling gaze.
“Really? That’s amazing! And it really opens any door?” She was lingering in the doorway, but Erik suddenly felt anxious to return to his own room. “Not all, but most. Now you should get some more rest before we resume our journey,” he said. “Or have something to eat, perhaps.” He turned to leave.
"All right.” Alana said hesitantly. “I suppose I’ll see you later, then.”
Erik nodded ever so slightly, and retreated to his room feeling relieved to be on his own again, and yet, surprisingly, looking forward to resuming their journey together. He’d discovered he rather enjoyed travel, being on the open road. Alana made for pleasant company too most of the time, he had to admit. She was a good friend to him.
Right now he was very anxious to get to Paris. The man he’d met at the Rouen Opera House had said that Christine was returning to the city. She was there. He missed her terribly. With every thought of her, his chest ached and he was filled with feelings of loss and regret. Yes, he had been the one to let her go, he knew. If he had forced her to leave the Vicomte, she would have been devastated, and he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself. He couldn’t do something like that to her…make every single day of her life miserable, a living hell without the one she truly loved. He couldn’t let Christine live the way he did. How could he let her suffer such despair, agony that always lurked below the surface, waiting to emerge and consume him, even now? There had been no choice in the matter really, and so he had let her leave him. Normally the memory would have brought about a fit of sorrow, but today, his mind couldn’t help but wander.
What would happen if he found her, went to her? What if it turned out that she had missed him as much as he had missed her? At the mere idea, his heart broke for her.
Maybe what Alana had said was right…maybe he really could live like normal people did, able to walk the streets in the sun freely, unafraid and able to face the world. He looked at himself in the mirror, and shook his head. No. It could never be like that for him. Not without Christine. Only if he found her again could there ever be a possibility of him finding happiness. Freedom.
Yes. That was what he would do…once everything was situated in Paris, he would go out and search for Christine. He would find her, and he would win her back. He would have love. He would get his life back.
The day seemed to crawl by. Erik couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. He tried to write, filling up pages and pages with melodies, but try as he might, no lyrics would come to him. After several hours he gave up, and paced the floor relentlessly, stopping only to glance out the window or look at the clock on the wall that ticked ever so slowly. At last, dusk fell. Dressed elegantly and neatly, making sure everything was as perfect as it could be (not wanting to repeat his humiliating morning), he took up his bags of supplies and went to knock on Alana’s door.
She answered almost instantly, ready to leave as well. She was dressed in her new rose-colored dress, which became her very well indeed. The girl was smiling at him too. That was something new he had noticed about her. When he first met her, she had been quieter, more serious, which was perfectly understandable due to her situation in life. But now she was bright and cheerful, acting as if nothing had ever gone wrong at all. Earlier her incessant cheerfulness would have irritated him, but now…now it made him feel…different. Lighter. Alana was chatting idly, and he attempted to follow the conversation and say a few words back as they walked through the hall to the frontdoor, also making sure to keep his head down, hiding the masked side of his face as much as possible from any observers. Fortunately, there were few people in the lobby, and the grooms in the stable had finished their work for the night and left for bed, so he was able to harness Raven and get them on their way without trouble.
The next night of their journey was uneventful. Erik gave Alana another lesson as they drove, choosing simple songs for her to sing, ones free of any emotional attachments he might have had for some other songs. The lesson went very well, and Erik began to think that he had madethe rightdecision, for once, in deciding to teach her. It was good to be with someone who appreciated music and hungered for deeper knowledge of it as Alana did.
It also made him think just how wonderful it would be when he had Christineback withhim. In their time together, she had learned so much, and there was still so much more for both of them to discover. His heart raced at the thought of it.
Dawn approached before they reached Paris, so they stopped at another hotel along the road. Alana complained profusely for a while, arguing that they were so close to Paris now and surely they would make it to her uncle’s soon, but she soon gave up, tired from the night’s journey.
They left the next night and reached Paris within a few hours. In literature, Erik had often heard it referred to as the “City of Lights,” and from what he had always seen from the roof of the opera house, it had been an accurate description. But now as he and Alana looked out at the city, he saw that it had gone all dark.
“That’s strange,” Alana said. “I don’t remember much about living in Paris, but I know that it wasn’t ever so…dark.”
Erik nodded in agreement, and they drove cautiously into the city, unsure of what awaited them.
The streets were completely deserted. They drove through in utter silence, theirway illuminated by a few streetlamps that were lit here and there
“What on earth is going on?” Alana wondered.
Erik didn‘t know. He had never seen anything like this before. Then, far off on an abandoned lane, he glimpsed a man on horseback, dressed in some sort of uniform, carrying a gun. A soldier. A gasp from beside him told him that Alana had seen the man, too.
“Erik…I think there’s a curfew here,” she said. It made sense, with the streets unnaturally empty. The soldier must be on patrol, hunting for curfew breakers. He pulled Raven to a halt immediately, hoping the soldier wouldn’t notice them. Luckily, the soldier passed by and vanished from sight.
“What do we do?” Alana whispered. Erik glanced over at her, and she looked scared. “What if they catch us? I don’t have identification or anything, and I don’t even know what’s going on here.”
“Hush. They will not catch us.” Erik tried to think of a possible solution. They hadalready ventured too far into the city to go back; chances were, a patrol would hear the cart. They would have to find some place to hide. He decided to pull into a nearby dark alley, hoping that they would go unnoticed, willing Raven to step more quietly. No soldiers came near when they halted in the alley, so they were safe for the moment. Still, he feared they could be seen if someone passed by. “Alana,” he said, “Get behind one of those piles of wood. You should be out of sight there.” He’d just noticed that near the back of the alley, there were giant piles of lumber scattered everywhere. Odd.
Once he’d freed Raven from her harness, the horse began to rest, and he took the sack that held their food and water and joined Alana behind one of the wood piles, handing the sack over to her.
“This is just how I pictured my first night back in Paris,” she said in a sarcastic whisper, “hiding in a dark alley surrounded by garbage and all this old wood.” She took a canteen of water from the sack and had a long drink.
“I didn’t expect this either,” Erik retorted. Curious, he looked around at the mass of lumber. “You know…I believe this could be the remnant of a barricade.” He had read about such things before.
“A barricade? So we find the city empty except for soldiers on patrol, and there’s a curfew, and there are remains of barricades?” She looked thoughtful, shaking her head in bewilderment. “What’s happened here?”
Erik certainly didn’t know, but he did remember something the man at the Rouen Opera House had said, that at one point Paris had been unsafe. That was why Christine had gone to Normandy. He’d also said something about the military getting involved, stopping the Commune, whatever that was. He hadn’t exactly been keeping up with Parisian news during the past months, and obviously Alana hadn't either. Now he wished he had; he had no idea whatthe two of themhad gotten into.
“Well, I suppose I can find out everything from my uncle tomorrow,” Alana said, as she yawned and stretched out on the cobblestones, using the sack as a pillow. She still had not gotten used to sleeping during the day and traveling at night, and was often tired. “Do you have the time?”
Erik took out his pocket watch. “One-thirty.”
Alana groaned. “Ugh. Will morning never come?”
“It’ll come. Rest now. You’re tired.”
She folded her arms across her chest, looking cross. “I could never fall asleep like this.”
He held up a finger in front of his lips and dared to glance over the top of the pile of wood he hid behind. There were two mounted soldiers passing by on the other side of the street. They stopped, and for a while they looked curiously at Raven, who was asleep standing up closer to the front of the alley, but eventually they moved on and disappeared from sight.
“Soldiers?” Alana mouthed.
Erik nodded and whispered, “They’re gone.” She looked very worried, but she didn‘t need to be. No one would find them. “You’re safe,” he assured her. “Rest now.” Alana gave him a skeptical look, but closed her eyes, and eventually, her breathing grew more relaxed. She was asleep, but in between glances over the top of the barricade to watch out for patrols, Erik noticed that her sleep was troubled.
Her arms and legs and head moved back and forth, and she was murmuring words he couldn’t understand. At one point, she said clearly, her voice shaking with emotion even as she slept, “Mother…please don’t leave me.” She shook her head, and Erik saw a tear run down her cheek from her closed eyes. He pitied her, and began to understand something more about her.
She tried her best to act cheerful and happy when she was around him, like everything was all right. That’s what she had said to him many times. Everything was all right. But though she didn’t want to show it, he knew she suffered because of what had happened to her family. He didn’t quite understand the way she felt about her mother’s death, how devastated she had been. He’d never experienced any kind of love between his mother and himself. But Erik did understand sorrow. During the day, in the company of others, Alana could find distraction, she could ignore or even escape her pain, but in the night, alone or in sleep, she could not. As she slept now, she seemed to be reliving every painful experience she had been through all over again.
Perhaps the two of them had more in common than Erik had thought before.
Looking at her now pained him. He wanted to do something for her, bring her comfort and peace somehow. He moved nearer to her, kneeling beside her sleeping form. Slowly, gently, he wiped the tears from her face, careful not to wake her. She was still having nightmares, muttering in her sleep.
Erik’s heart hurt for her, and he set out to help her in the only way he knew how. He concentrated on the music in his head, and as he did he found words joining with his melody in a simple, sweet song. He leaned closer to her, and began to sing softly, so that only she could be able to hear the words he sang:
Hush now, little one
Be at peace when you dream
Be still now, soon the sun
Will rise, but now a moonbeam
Shines down on you
An angel watches over you
So sleep, let the shadows die
Let the light that shines inside you
Chase away the dark that haunts you and I.
When he had finished the last line, Erik watched as Alana grew still, her troubled expression fading into one of peaceful dreams. He looked up at the sky and saw the moon--it really was shining down on her, lighting her face in a luminous glow that became even more beautiful when she smiled inher sleep. And as he watched and waited or the sun to rise and their journey to begin again, hecouldn’t help but smile too.
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