Page 105 of Angel's Fall

14. Eurydice

Raoul dreamed of screamsand sweltering jungles and gunshots and floating. In his dreams, Christine came and went, snatched away over and over by the monster’s shadow. He tried and tried to wake and warn her – tried to blow out the matches that would light the spark and kill them all – but he was helpless. He couldn’t move, and a sweet-smelling cloth was on his face again and again and it made him so tired...

They were all going to die. He was going to kill Erik. Someone was already dead. Erik had played their Requiem and it had been so beautiful.

Who had died? Why did Raoul feel already like something had been ripped out of his chest? Where was his voice? Why could he not make a sound with Erik’s song in his ear and Christine’s wanton cries echoing in his dreams? He tried. He tried and tried, and finally, it was he who screamed.

“Raoul! Stop!” a female voice cried as gentle hands took him by the shoulder.

“Christine?” Raoul asked, blinking to reality to make out the dark-haired woman holding him.

“It’s your damn sister.” Sabine was wan, her eyes red-rimmed and sunken, and her expression was furious. “Of course you ask after her.”

“Where is she? Is she alive?!” Raoul demanded, shaking his sister. The effort of moving made his stomach turn, and had there been anything in it, it would have been swiftly emptying itself. He fell back on the bed – his bed? – and rubbed his aching head. “Tell me she is alive.”

“She is, unfortunately,” Sabine replied. “She’s waiting downstairs. I wouldn’t allow her near you after she showed up with you on our doorstep with that awful Persian. I should have sent her away with the police as well.”

“He’s alive too? And with the police?” Raoul balked. “Has he been arrested?”

“Not yet, just answering questions, about—”

“What of Erik? Where is the fiend? Dear God, what happened? I have to speak to her! Christine!” Raoul called out and tried again to rise, only for another wave of sickness and dizziness to claim him.

“Raoul, I’ll bring her up, but first, you have to know...” Sabine’s voice was unsteady with emotion.

“Where is Philippe?” Raoul asked frantically. It was unlike his big brother to not be hovering like an old woman when he was ill. Sabine, to his surprise, answered with a sob and threw her face into her hands.

That feeling from the dream – of a void, of something vital missing from the world, like a part of his flesh had been carved out of his chest – returned in full force as Raoul sat up fully in his bed and looked at his sister, dressed in black, weeping by his bedside.

“Where is Philippe, Sabine?” His voice sounded so small and lost, and he found that he was trembling. Sabine only shook her head, another wail lost in her hands. “No... no, it can’t be! Where is he?!”

“Raoul.” He looked up to see Christine in his doorway, her face a mask of sorrow and sympathy. She looked so different from when he had last seen her on the stage, properly dressed in a simple gray frock and looking as ill as Raoul. She had seen too much, at last, and been changed. Just as they all had.

“Where? How?” Raoul demanded as Sabine continued to cry. “What did Erik do to my brother?”

“I’m so sorry,” Christine began, eyes gleaming. “The firemen looking for us found his body on the edge of the lake—”

“No!” Raoul screamed, rising from the bed and nearly collapsing as he did. Christine was there to catch him in an embrace, holding him tight and stroking his hair like he was a child. He felt like a child, like the foolish teenager who had asked why his father was not coming home from the hunting party. The teenager that Philippe had held and told it would be alright. “No. He can’t be dead!”

“I’m so sorry, Raoul. I’m so sorry,” Christine cooed in his ear as his tears began to flow. “We think he was trying to save you and—”

“He was there because of you!” Sabine hissed to Christine. “They were both there because ofyou.”

“I’m sorry,” Christine repeated, sincere and soft. “I’m so sorry for both of you.”

“It was him!” Raoul cried, springing back and stumbling. His head was on fire again, like in that godforsaken torture chamber where he had burned while Philippe had... “Erik! He killed Philippe just like he killed our father!”

“Raoul, calm down. You’re sick and exhausted.” Christine sounded like she was talking to a crying child. Raoul wanted to strike her for it, so he flailed his arms and someone caught him. “You aren’t talking sense.”

“Erik drowned my brother!” Raoul screamed as two women forced him back into his bed, for he was too weak to resist. “I’ll kill him for this! I’ll have his head!”

“Raoul!” Sabine shouted through tears as Raoul flailed in her grasp. “Stop raving! Where is the doctor?”

“He’s here.” Christine’s voice was far off. When had she left? How was she here? How were they all alive when Philippe was dead?

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