Chapter Twenty-nine
“I have been wrong about you, thought I was strong without you. For so long nothing could move me, for so long nothing could change me. Now I feel myself surrender each time I see your face. I am captured by your beauty, your unassuming grace. And I feel my heart is turning, falling into place…” --Josh Groban
Changing Tides
“What?” All at once, Erik was filled with confusion and a sudden fear. His pulse quickened. “What do you mean?” Why would she ask me that?
“Who are you, Erik?” she repeated, her eyes earnestly searching his face.
He tore away from her gaze. “I’m…” he struggled for words. A liar. A murderer. A monster. “…your friend…aren’t I? What’s troubling you, Alana?”
The girl sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that when you didn’t come the past nights, I really started to worry about you, what with the fugitive the police are searching for.”
Erik tried to bury his feelings deep inside so that the look on his face would not incriminate him. The Phantom had always been good at that. Now he was able to meet Alana’s eyes as she spoke, a safe, blank expression on his face.
“I don’t know much about the situation,” she was saying, “but I know you have enemies, and I thought the fugitive could be one of them. Or that you’d fallen into some other kind of trap. I had no way of knowing. And that’s when I realized just how little I know about you.”
Is she suspicious of me? What am I supposed to tell her? Erik had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach now that was impossible to ignore, but he kept his emotions hidden beneath the surface. “The fact that I have enemies,” he began, “has forced me to keep many details of my life a secret. Forced me to stay out of the public eye.”
“Why do you have these enemies? What happened?” she asked, clearly distraught.
“I can’t tell you,” he said quietly.
“But why not? Don’t you trust me?” she asked, her sad eyes seeming to plead with him.
He felt a simultaneous tug of pain and a gentle warmth rising in his chest, and allowed his expression to soften. “Of course I do.” Alana was the only person in his life thus far who had not done anything to betray him or let him down somehow. “But there are some things in this world that cannot ever be spoken. The question is…can you trust me, with my secrets?”
She fixed the fullness of her gaze upon him again, and he met it, studying her face as she studied his. He wished he could tell her, so much. The secrets he hid from her were eating him alive, and yet, he knew he would have to carry them to the grave if he ever wanted to make some sort of life for himself. “I trust you,” she whispered finally. “You’ve given me no specific reason to doubt you, other than your secrets. But I can respect them. Just know that if you feel the time is right, you can tell me anything, anything at all.”
If only you knew all the things I can never tell you. Erik nodded. “Thank you. Now. Have you been practicing your music in my absence?” He was ready for a change of subject.
Alana grinned. “Of course I have. In fact,” her eyes gleamed mischievously, “I’ve probably accomplished more on my own than I would have if you’d been here!”
“I wouldn’t be too certain of that,” Erik said. “But let’s begin.”
She had practiced a great deal since he’d been gone. As he listened to her sing some simple but pretty verses, he realized just how much he had missed the sound of her voice. It was not a voice that would ever be heard in an opera, but it was beautiful just the same, soft and sweet, but with a layer of soulful pain beneath the surface. While he accompanied her on the piano, he watched her as she stood beside the instrument singing. Her eyes were closed as she sang, but from her face he could see the concentration and passion she had for this music. It was a special thing, he thought.
She was something special. So small, but so strong in spirit. So trusting. So kind.
So…beautiful.
A fair, delicately shaped face. Hair like spun gold.
And then she opened her eyes, looking out across a place only she could see as she sang.
Why have I never noticed just how lovely her eyes are? They shine brighter than the stars themselves.
Alana stopped singing, and turned to look at him. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink color. “Well? Was I all right?”
Erik abruptly stopped playing, and sat dumbly on the piano bench. There was something going on inside him, something he didn’t understand. He remembered the night when Alana had first called him her friend, how she had comforted him, and how overwhelmingly wonderful that had felt. What he was experiencing now was like what had happened then, but it was different. Stronger, more confusing. But there was a feeling that made itself known above all others, a phrase that kept repeating in his mind.
I once was lost, but now I’m found, was blind, but now I see.
He vaguely realized those were words from the song Alana had been singing
“Were you all right? You were…” he searched for the right thing to say.
“Flat? Off-key?”
“…wonderful.”
Her cheeks flushed even rosier. “Really? Thank you!”
“You’re quite welcome,” Erik said. “I believe that’s enough for tonight. You’ve done more than well enough. From the looks of things, I’ll be forced to go to that ball after all.” That would be a bad day indeed; the thought of being in such a bright, crowded place full of strangers sounded unpleasant. But he’d made a promise, and he intended to honor it, to please the girl.
“You remembered!” Alana’s face brightened up. “It’s getting close! Cerise and I have already decided on our costumes…I’m going to be Snow White, and she’s going to be Rose Red. We don’t have dresses yet, but Aunt Amelie said we can go to the shop soon and…”
Erik held up a hand, and she stopped speaking. He had a better idea. “Before you buy anything, I know of a place where many costumes are stored. I could find gowns for you and your cousin without cost. I trust you are looking for something white, and something red?”
Alana nodded. “You’d really do that for us?”
“It’s no trouble.”
She thanked him. “Do you know what you want your costume to be for the ball?”
Since his days and nights back below the opera house, all Erik had done was lie in bed, being tended by Madame Giry and Meg--who’d been forced to join him underground--or drag his injured body to the organ to play. His thoughts had never drifted to the ball. He thought a moment, and then an idea came to him. It was a perfect fit, whether he liked it or not. “Are you familiar with the story of the Half-Man?” he asked her. It was a tale he had read years ago.
She shook her head. “What is it?”
“It’s a strange story, but one that has always intrigued me. It’s about someone who was only born half a man. One side of him is there, and the other isn’t.” He could feel the weight of her gaze upon him, and he could tell that she was looking at his mask. His entire being burned with shame. “The Half-Man has special abilities and is dissatisfied with his life, so he conjures up new situations and new images for himself. But try as he might, he can’t change his true self. He can’t be anything more than a Half-Man…”
Erik broke off. His throat ached and his eyes were burning. He could say no more, and cursed himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. The strength of the Phantom had deserted him once more. At least he wasn’t weeping like a small child. The last thing he wanted was for Alana to see him in a state like that again.
“That’s very sad,” the girl said. “Are you sure you want to come as the Half-Man?” He didn’t answer right away. “Erik, are you all right?”
“Yes,” he said, too quickly.
Alana raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been wondering…did anything happen while I was out of town? Why were you gone for so long?”
Erik looked at her miserably. He didn’t want to speak any more, but he gave in and told the sorry tale of what had transpired when he’d gone to try again for Christine’s heart. “I didn’t understand…when I came, she was wearing her wedding dress…the one I made for her, that she never got married in. She told me she’d missed me, but when I asked her to come away, she refused me.” Cold anger set in as he told the story. “Then her husband found us. He tried to shoot me, but I escaped. At least until the guard dogs attacked.”
Alana, who’d been silent up to this point, gasped. “You’re not hurt are you?”
“I’m healing,” he said, pulling his black cloak tighter around himself. “I’ll be well again soon.”
“Thank the Lord,” Alana said. “So…what happens now?”
He just looked at her, torn by the emotions at war inside him. “I don’t know…for so long, I’ve felt that I couldn’t live without her. That all my life, I’ve been incomplete. That half of me is missing.” His hand unconsciously rose and touched the white mask on the right side of his face. “I thought Christine was my other half. But I was wrong. I am a Half-Man still…”
“No, you’re not!” Alana cried, the sharpness of her tone startling him out of his brooding reverie. “You’re as much of a man as anyone else I know. Maybe even more! You’re intelligent, and talented, and strong, and handsome.” At her words, a strange feeling stirred inside Erik’s chest, something like happiness and nervousness both at once, and he actually thought he felt his cheeks burning, a strange sensation. “And you’re good.”
Those three words stopped the world for a moment. All the pleasant feelings were gone, and Erik felt that a venomous sword had been plunged into his heart. He felt absolutely paralyzed by the crushing wave of guilt. Liar, liar, liar. Good men don’t tell lies like you do. What will become of a liar such as you?
“I think, to some degree, all of us feel incomplete somehow,” Alana continued. “But it is possible to fill that void.”
Erik faced her. “How?” He could hear the desperation in his own voice.
She walked over to one of the pews and pulled out a book with the words Holy Bible written across the front cover. She sat down next to him on the piano bench, their backs to the instrument.
“Don’t look at it like that,” she scolded as he eyed the book suspiciously. “You should give it a chance. Have you ever read it before?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Try it. You may find what you’re looking for inside.”
Erik took the Bible, but his mind had begun working strangely again. Maybe I don’t have to look anywhere else…maybe the answer to everything is standing right in front of me, more beautiful than ever… “Have you ever felt the way I have?” he asked. “Like there’s a void inside you, just waiting to be filled?”
Alana looked down at the floor. “If I’m being honest, yes. I have my faith, and I have family who loves me, and I know I’m just being selfish, always wanting more…but I do feel like there’s something that I’m missing, that I want more than anything else in the world.”
She understood him, Erik thought. Alana really understood. “And what would that be?”
But the girl just glanced briefly up at him, then looked at the floor again, her face downcast.
“If you don’t wish to tell me, that’s all right,” he said.
They were both quiet for a while. Suddenly, Erik realized he couldn’t stand to see Alana’s face so sad any longer. He wanted, needed, to see her smile. He rose to his feet, and started walking toward the sanctuary door.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Follow me and see.” He held out a hand to her. “You’ll have to stay close.” He began to feel a thrilling sense of anticipation, and he almost smiled.
Alana took his hand rather hesitantly. “But we can’t go anywhere…we’ll get caught!”
Erik turned to her and shook his head. He opened his cloak, revealing the bright blue and red of the soldiers’ uniform he was wearing.
“Where did you get that?” She looked at him in shock.
“I borrowed it.”
“You didn’t hurt anyone for it, did you?”
He made himself look taken aback at that question. “Not permanently,” he said, putting his hood up.
When he’d ventured above ground for the first time since returning to the Opera House, he’d almost immediately run into a soldier investigating without backup. He’d dispatched the other man with a quick fist to the skull, and he’d felt the Phantom savoring the rather sickening sound of the blow.
Erik had been about to continue on his way when he realized how much trouble he could save himself by taking the soldier’s uniform for himself. He dragged the man back into the entrance to the underground passageways, stripped him of his shirt and jacket, and put them on himself. Some of the other soldiers he had seen had worn cloaks, so he could wear his hood and hide his masked face, while wearing the blue and red for all to see. Now no one could suspect him. He could even go back to the stable where he’d been boarding Raven and ride her to the church.
That’s exactly what he’d done. When he and Alana came out the back of the church, the girl’s eyes lit up when she saw the black horse standing in the empty side street. “Raven!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper. She went up and patted the horse’s neck. “I’ve missed her.”
Erik climbed into the saddle. “Can I help you up?” Alana nodded as she put her foot into the stirrup, and he swung her onto Raven’s back behind him. He tried not to think too much about her arms tight around his waist as they rode off down the street.
“Can’t you tell me where we’re going?” she asked.
“No,” he said. He had passed the place earlier that night on the way to the church, but he didn’t know its name. Living underground for so long, he’d seen little of Paris, but he had a good sense of direction and always remembered the way to the few places he had been. “By the way, if anyone asks, you’re my prisoner.”
Alana laughed behind him, and Erik nearly chuckled along with her. Then he realized he couldn’t remember ever making someone laugh before. It was a good feeling, he decided. He nudged Raven into a gentle canter as they rode through the city streets. They passed several soldiers and gendarmes along the way, but the officers only paused to direct puzzled, and then envious glances at Erik. It was a good idea to steal this officer’s uniform, he thought. Perhaps Alana and I can see the city together in this way every night…
They had entered a suburban area of the city, similar to Parc de Seigneurs, where the buildings were spread farther apart, many replaced by gardens and trees. As they approached a stone wall and a large cast iron gate, Erik dismounted, pulling out a lock pick.
“What is this place?” Alana asked.
“Wait and see.” Erik picked the lock and pushed the gate open, then took Raven’s bridle and led her inside. He heard Alana’s sudden intake of breath, and he nearly gasped himself when he saw where they had come.
They were in the most beautiful garden he’d ever seen. He hadn’t seen many in his life, but he could tell this one was special. It had to be old, too, for the trees were tall and wide, and the elegantly sculpted statues and sparkling fountains had an air of antiquity to them.
Alana slid off Raven’s back and started exploring the gardens, looking absolutely enraptured by the beauty of the place. Erik left his horse grazing beneath a tree and followed after the girl. They walked through the park in silence, just gazing at the loveliness around them. Erik cursed the past, that had had him imprisoned underground for so long, missing out on wonderful things such as this.
In time they came to a tall, rather steep hill. “This is what we came here for,” Erik said. “I saw the top of the hill as I was riding to meet you tonight.” He turned to face her. “The view should be incredible.”
Alana grinned. “What are we waiting for, then?” She started up the hill and he followed, his head spinning with wild, confusing thoughts. He was strangely anxious, and yet he was…happy…he thought…at peace. There wasn’t a time he could recall when he’d felt like this. I like it, he decided. I think. But what in God’s name is going on?
As they walked they chatted idly, Erik mostly responding to Alana’s comments and questions about things they’d seen. His mind was so out of sorts that he could scarcely speak.
Finally, they neared the top of the hill. “Almost there!” Alana said, somewhat out of breath. She reached out and tugged on Erik’s sleeve, smiling. “Race you to the top!” She picked up her skirts and dashed forward. Suddenly seized with excitement and a spirit of competitiveness, he rushed after her.
She was quicker than he thought she would be, and he was not yet recovered to his full strength, still limping slightly. “I’m going to beat you there!” Alana called out, laughing. But Erik soon closed the distance between them and was running alongside her.
“I wouldn’t bet on that!” He was just about to increase his speed when without warning, he was crashing to the ground face first. Erik put out his hands to stop his fall and looked up.
“I would!” Alana was standing at the top of the hill, laughing at him.
This is embarrassing, Erik thought, bested by a woman! Ordinarily he would have been furious with himself for losing a contest with anyone, especially a woman, but this time he dusted himself off and got to his feet, allowing a half-smile to cross his face. “You run a good race, I must admit,” he said as he took the last steps up the hill. “But a crooked one. You tripped me!”
Alana didn’t answer him; she had her back to him now.
Within seconds, Erik understood her silence.
From the top of the hill was the most spectacular view he had ever seen. The two of them looked out over the Seine River, which ran across the park and wound throughout the city, which lay below them as far as the eye could see. Everything was still and quiet, the hill like an island of serenity in the midst of the urban sprawl. The night sky was full of stars, and as Erik looked down at the river, he could see them reflected in the water.
Alana turned to him, breathless. “I think this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.” Her eyes were shining brighter than ever; she belonged in this haven of beauty. Her fair hair had come unpinned and lay in curls across her shoulders.
Erik nodded. “I feel the same way.”
They sank down onto the grass, their backs against a tree. Erik was conscious of their shoulders touching and instead of moving away as he once would have, he decided to stay where he was. The two of them looked up at the night sky, and he pointed out the constellations to her. He’d often watched the stars from the roof of the opera house, and he knew each and every one by heart. They were like old friends.
“Looking up at the stars always makes me feel so small,” he confessed. “Like I’m just one insignificant speck in the enormity of the universe.”
“Really?” Alana sounded surprised. “When I see them, I feel loved. Like I’m important.”
She was so different than he was, Erik thought. Her ways were foreign to him, and yet, he reflected, they felt like home. He wanted to know more about the way she thought. “Why’s that?”
Alana seemed to think for a moment before she spoke. “Because the same God who created all the universe, each and every amazing star, somehow decided to take the time and create me…and you.” She smiled at him, then turned her gaze back to the sky. Erik’s however, was fixed upon her. “If you look at it like that, it makes you think…if He made a special effort to give us life…then there must be a reason for everything we do, everything that happens to us.” She looked back at him. “Do you know what I mean?”
Erik blinked at her. “I’ve never thought of it like that before. But…”
“But what?”
He looked away, and realized that he had no answer. “I don’t know.”
They were quiet for a while, enjoying the view and each other’s company, though their closeness was driving Erik mad for some reason.
Finally she spoke again. “Erik, are you glad you came to Paris?”
He looked out at the city below them. “At first I was,” he answered, “and at some points since then I’ve wished that I’d never come.” He faced her again. “But now…now, honestly I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.” It was so hard to look away from her. How on earth did it take so long for me to realize just how beautiful she is?
“Me neither,” Alana said. “Can I ask you another question?”
He smiled a little and let out a breath. “You have so many questions.”
“Well, would you rather sit here in silence?” she asked, a bit indignant.
“The silence can be nice sometimes.”
She groaned, and he actually laughed, very softly.
“You may ask me what you wish.”
Alana paused a moment before speaking, her expression serious. “I’ve been wondering…why did you save me, that first time? You didn’t know me, you didn’t know my father or what you were up against…you were heading in the opposite direction. What made you turn back?”
Erik just stared at her for a moment, then said, “It was the right thing to do…anyone with a conscience would have done what I did.”
“Not everyone has a conscience,” Alana muttered. “Just think of those men who attacked us on the road. They couldn’t have had one. A conscience is what separates a good man from an evil man.”
That’s not true. I may have what you call a conscience, but anyone who knows what I’ve done knows that I am a wicked man, evil to the core. “I couldn’t let him keep hurting you,” said Erik. “I know what it’s like to be treated like that.”
Alana’s eyes widened. “You do?”
Erik’s throat tightened. He tried to push back the memories, but even now, in this incredible place with her, the flashbacks of being beaten, blood running down his back from whip lashes that burned like fire, were hard to ignore. “Yes,” he whispered, cringing inwardly.
“I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Erik closed his eyes and rested his head back against the tree, forcing himself to forget. He made himself focus on the present, the peaceful place they were in, the girl beside him, so close.
They were quiet for a long time, until not surprisingly, Alana broke the silence. He opened his eyes and glanced sideways at her; she looked thoughtful, pensive.
“You know, I remember something strange you said the first night we went to the church…you said something about being unworthy.”
Oh no. “You remembered.”
“Why would you say something like that?” Alana looked genuinely puzzled. “There’s no blessing you’re unworthy of…you’re a good man, Erik.”
You’re a liar. A thief, kidnapper, a murderer, and above all a blasted liar. A wicked man. Erik made himself smile ever so slightly at Alana. “I’ve had a good teacher.”
She smiled back at him, blushing a little.
“Can I ask you a question?” There was something he had wanted to know for a long time.
Surprise flashed across Alana’s face, but she laughed. “Of course.”
Erik touched his mask, on the side of his face farthest from her. “Why is it that you’ve never once asked me to take my mask off? Or tried to take it off yourself?”
The girl shrugged. “I feel like if you wanted me to see what‘s beneath it, you would show me. If you don’t want me to see, though, that’s all right.” She sighed. “It’s not going to change anything.”
“What do you mean, it’s not going to change anything? It’s the most horrible, wretched sight…”
Alana grabbed his shoulder and looked him square in the eyes. “Don’t talk like that! Whether you’re wearing a mask or not, no matter what you look like, you’re always going to be Erik. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?
His hand still on the mask, Erik swallowed hard and asked, “If I take off this mask…now…can you promise me that you will not fear or hate what you see?”
She just stared at him, her hand still on his shoulder. He could see that she was slightly worried.
“Can you?” His heart was racing madly; the fear of how she would react was absolutely terrifying. He had an overwhelming sense of dread, like what he was going to do would destroy everything. But he took the mask, and lifted it ever so slowly; he had nearly pulled it away from his face when he heard someone shout out,
“Hello! You there!”
His heart nearly exploded. He scrambled to put the mask back on, smashing it painfully into his face. He and Alana both leapt to their feet and spun around to see what appeared to be a gardener, who’d just made it to the top of the hill. Erik looked up at the sky, his pulse quickening again. It was nearly sunrise…they had been out all night.
“You need to leave now,” the middle-aged man was saying angrily as he stormed towards them. “Just because you’re a soldier doesn’t mean you and your woman can come here whenever you feel the…” Suddenly the old man’s face paled. He put a hand over his chest. “Oh my God! You’re not with the army, or the police…I recognize you!…”
Erik had no time to think. He rushed forward and dealt a powerful blow to the man’s head before he had a chance to run away. Alana screamed, and the man crumpled to the ground unconscious. The second man tonight.
Alana ran forward and bent over the man, eyes wide with fear. “What in the world is going on?” she cried, trembling.
“That man would destroy us.” Erik took her by the arm and pulled her down the hill after him. “Come, we must get you back home. Now.”
“But…”
“Faster! There’s no time to lose.” Still holding onto her arm, they ran down the hill and found Raven near where they’d left her. Soon they were galloping down the shaded avenues and back into the city. All good feelings were gone, replaced by overwhelming anxiety. He had to get Alana back before she was missed, he had to get back to the opera house before the streets became too full of people.
“Is that man going to be all right?” Alana said in his ear as they charged down the lane.
“Yes.”
“Why did he want to hurt you?”
“Many do.”
“But why?”
“That’s what I’ve been asking myself my entire life,” he said bitterly.
Morning drew ever nearer, the sky slowly growing pink and orange. It was going to be a breathtaking sunrise, but Erik did not have the breath to lose. He was fully concentrated on navigating the roads and reaching Sacree Boulevard as quickly as possible. By now a few people had already begun to venture out of their homes.
They stopped in front of the church before the sun had risen too far, and hurried around to the back of the Valjean house. Erik glared up at the sky, cursing the day for bringing his night to an end. It had been the best night he could remember. As soon as he thought it, and gazed at the girl walking ahead of him, he felt that strange nervous yet somewhat happy feeling coming back.
Alana stopped and smiled at him. He felt warm all over. “You’ve been quite the gentleman tonight, Erik.” She paused and gave a wry grin. “Until you knocked out that gardener. But, it was nice of you to take me home, and walk me to the door…except for the fact that I’m climbing in through the hall window so as not to wake anyone.”
“It seems I’ve been a bad influence on you,” he said. Part of him was joking, but the other was bitterly serious. I’m no good for someone like you.
“Oh, don’t say that. Until next time…” She went to the window and then turned back. “I had a wonderful time tonight, Erik. Thank you.”
Erik stepped forward, reaching out and gently touching her face as he looked deep into her eyes. He could get lost in them…no, he was found in them.
There was something he wanted to do, but something else was holding him back.
“No. Thank you,” he said quietly, stroking her cheek gently with a finger. He reached down and took her hand, leaving a soft kiss upon it. “Until next time.” He tore his gaze away from her, bowed, and left, as she stood still, smiling wistfully after him.
Her words rang in his head. Maybe he could learn how to be a gentleman after all. Maybe he had as good a chance as any man to live a normal life.
But only she could make it possible.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A few weeks later, a lone figure walked through a cemetery.
It was a cloudy day. It always seemed to be dark when Damien came here. The young Comte glanced up at the black clouds forming in the sky above him. A breeze ruffled his black hair, bringing the first chill of autumn. Summer would be gone before he knew it, replaced by cold and darkness.
He walked slowly forward, his expression that of a dead man. The cemetery had a strange effect on him; he sometimes felt he belonged beneath the earth, buried in the very grave he stood before now. It ached to look at any of the graves in his family plot. Damien was a man who loved his family more than anything, and always missed them when they were gone. He’d long been missing his parents, who had been staying in the country since before the Commune.
But nothing hurt Damien more than to look upon the headstone before him, to read the words carved there, to stare at the little portrait. The blue flowers he’d been carrying slipped from his grasp and fell beside the grave.
Damien sank to his knees, tears starting to blur his vision. He blinked through them and they trickled down his face as he reached his hand out to touch the cool stone. His fingers traced the portrait of the little boy and the inscription carved into the dark gray marble.
A good son to us all. And a beloved brother.
Another flood of tears blinded Damien as he knelt on the ground alone. Through his blurred sight he glimpsed something red fluttering through the air down to the ground. He blinked and picked up the first autumn leaf to fall from any tree in Paris, a vivid red one. He turned and faced the headstone.
“The leaves are starting to fall, Avery,” he said softly. “You know what that means. Happy birthday, little brother. You’re certainly getting to be a big boy…” He found himself unable to say any more, and he buried his face in his hands. Just last year, Damien and Avery had celebrated their birthdays together in one grand ball, his family’s mansion packed with men, women, and scores of little children. It had been one of the best nights of both of their lives. But this year, Damien would have to try and celebrate without Avery there with him.
Minutes, or hours later--he couldn’t know for sure--he looked down at the flowers he’d dropped and picked them up, placing them directly in front of the headstone, alongside the first fallen leaf.
“I brought you some bluebells,” the Comte said. “They’re your favorite. I remember.” He allowed himself a small smile. “Do you remember when you asked me… ‘if they’re bells, why don’t they ring?’” Damien could see it in his mind’s eye as though it had happened yesterday; he could hear little Avery’s voice in his head. “And I told you that they did ring, but only the fairies and the angels could hear them, whenever the wind blew…” A gentle breeze floated by, and Damien choked on his words. “I guess…you can…hear them now.” He could scarcely speak. “Beautiful…isn’t it?”
A few others had arrived to leave flowers for their lost loved ones, and they watched the Comte de Bellamy as they passed. But he didn’t care who saw him like this. Not now.
“I know you must be having a wonderful time up there, Avery. But all of us down here have been missing you, especially me, little brother. I suppose it’s too much to ask for you to come back to me. So you just keep on having your fun. I’ll try to get by somehow.” The young man stared up at the dark clouds and felt a drizzle of rain against his face. He closed his eyes. “And I promise you one thing, Avery. The man who killed you…I won’t let him get away with it. He’ll pay for the things he’s done.” He opened his hazel eyes. They were burning with hatred and vengeance. “You will be avenged. I swear it, by you and all the angels.”
Damien got to his feet, tore his gaze away from the grave, and walked back through the cemetery to the carriage that drove him away from that dark, lonely place to his family’s glorious estate.