Page 15 of Angel's Mask

“You’ll be safe here, as long as you need it,” his voice replied. As before, it seemed to come from all around her, from the shadows and the walls. As if the air itself was whispering just to her. “Sleep now, you will need your rest for tomorrow.”

Christine obeyed without question, setting her tattered bag to the side on a gilded statue of an elephant. Tomorrow. The promise in the word made her shiver and kept her heart pounding. She settled into the bed. It was the softest place she’d lain in weeks. She breathed deep, trying to calm herself, ready to weep again at the sheer madness and magic of it all. How could her entire world and life have changed so much in a few hours? How could she have awoken only that morning not believing in anything?

“How am I supposed to sleep, after all this?” she asked the darkness around her. It wasn’t frightening. It never could be. He was in it: the ghost that had restored her faith, the angel that had saved her life.

“You must be tired. It’s very late,” he said, gentle and soft. The world was suddenly so fantastic, now that he filled it, so alive, magical, and stunning, yet nothing was as beautiful as his voice. She could listen to that voice until she faded to dust.

“Will you sing to me? Please, just until I fall asleep...” It was greedy, really, to ask it of him after all he had given her. But his song had been like the first drop of rain after a drought, and she was thirsty for a storm.

“Until you’re sleeping,” he replied, nearly reverent. He waited for a breath and then began to sing.

He sang to her in a language she had never heard, a low, plaintive song that was part-lullaby, part-lament. It was sad and beautiful, carrying the sound of distant shores and ancient, aching love. It was like nothing she had ever heard before. Her eyes closed as she drifted in his sublime song.

“Siúil, siúil, siúil a ruin. Siúil go socar agus siúil go ciúin.”

There were no more thoughts, and slowly she forgot her body, her bed, and her fatigue. The voice of her miraculous angel wrapped around her, and she began to fall asleep but fought it. She wanted to listen to his song forever. It carried the sadness she had seen in his eyes and more. So much more. The drops of rain on her parched soul grew to a torrent, and she happily let herself drown.

––––––––

It was hours beforeErik finally turned away from where Christine slept and retreated into the cellars. He’d covered her in a blanket again and left the few coins in his pocket from the dancers in her bag. It was all so sentimental and foolish, but just like becoming an angel, it was so easy and felt so right. She was intoxicating, but Erik knew had to leave her light. He knew the way home in the dark and once he was there perhaps, he might sleep, if the ghosts were quiet. He had barely rested the night before and he needed it. He was only human after all.

The thought hit Erik like a slap, the force of reality slamming into him so hard he gasped for air, clawing against a cold stone wall.

“What have I done?” he asked aloud.

You took a girl’s faith and made it another mask for your hideous face and rotten soul,” the shadows laughed in reply. Erik wanted to tell them to shut up, but the sick, terrible truth of it couldn’t be ignored. He had never been a good man, he knew that very well, but he had never done anything thiscruel. Nor had he ever done anything that so stupidly risked exposure.

She’ll find out and lead them to your door, the dark declared, as Erik rushed deeper into his private underworld.And when she finds out the monster you are, it will kill her.

“No...” he sighed as he sank down at the edge of the lake, bowing his head. He had told her he was a bloodyangeland for what? A voice? To give the poor deluded creaturehope? He pounded a fist softly against the stones, trying not to think of Christine’s joy at the sound of his voice or his own delight at the sight of her smile. He had damned them both.

Breath

Christine woke in darkness, but in her soul it was the brightest dawn she had seen in years. She woke in a world with angels. There was a blanket over her, and this time she knew where it had come from. Joy bubbled inside her and out in a laugh. He wasreal.

She sat up in the bed he had found for her, looking at the lamp he had left to save her from the dark, and laughed again. She sounded mad, but she didn’t care. If this was madness, she wanted it to last forever. She stretched, filling her lungs with a yawn, and surveyed her new bedroom. It wasn’t strictly aroom, just a hidden place protected by old backdrops and piles of abandoned prop furniture. It reminded her of a cave or a burrow; a strange refuge for sure, but she could certainly see herself staying here for a while until she found somewhere else. Though she didn’t like the idea of being any place wherehewasn’t there in every shadow.

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