Page 91 of Angel's Fall
“He was supposed to be waiting back here to kill that creature!” Philippe railed. “Was he taken too?”
“I don’t believe so.” Shaya looked around desperately. In the stalls, Moncharmin was leading the firemen to stem any blaze that might ignite from spilled gas or an errant spark around the chandelier’s wreckage and look for injured. No one seemed to have been beneath the thing when it fell, thanks to the manager’s warning scream. Richard was barking orders at gendarmes and firemen in the wings. But no Raoul. “He must have started after him alone. I’ll go—”
“How? The girl disappeared into thin airagain!” Philippe yelled. “I thought he could only do that with the bloody mirror!”
“That’s where Raoul has gone!” Shaya gasped. He turned to go just in time for a fireman to barrel into him, pushing him aside to get to Richard.
“Monsieur! The gas is back on! He turned off the whole organ!” the man cried, and Shaya cast a look towards Philippe.
“How do you know?” Richard demanded, rounding on the young, red-faced man.
“We went down! A brigade of us, to check the gas, and we saw him! He ran, but we’ll have him soon enough!”
“That can’t be.” Shaya watched as Richard and Philippe exchanged equally suspicious looks.
“Show me where he went. I’ll go,” Philippe volunteered to the fireman. “Persian, you go look for my brother, and please...” The elder noble gripped Shaya’s arm and looked earnestly into his face. “Keep him safe. For me.”
“I will.” Shaya hoped it was a promise he could keep.
With no more hesitation, Shaya rushed into the halls where the lights were slowly being relit. No one marked him – everyone was either trying to flee or find someone. They didn’t care about the Persian roaming backstage. He came quickly to Christine Daaé’s remote dressing room and knew he was right by the noise beyond the half-open door.
“Open up! I know you can open, you piece of shit!” Raoul was yelling as he pounded his fists against Christine’s mirror. “Let me in!”
“There are better ways down, Monsieur,” Shaya said, and Raoul spun to glare at him, absolutely feral with rage. “And it will do you well to calm yourself if we are to travel them.”
“He has her! I saw him take her right from the stage!” Raoul screamed in return. “He knew somehow! Did you warn him?”
“I did not.” Shaya raised his hands to calm the beast before him. “The only one I warned was you. I told you this was a stupid plan, and now, we have to do something I have avoided for weeks.”
“You know how to get into his house,” Raoul hissed. “Your secret road that you never wanted to show me.”
“It will surely be a trap; I want you to know that. Erik knows we are coming and he’ll be ready.”
“I don’t care,” Raoul growled. “I swore I would end this tonight, and I keep my word.”
“You may regret such a promise. Are you still armed?”
Raoul pulled his pistol from his pocket to show Shaya that he indeed was. “I am ready.”
“Remember, keep your hand at the level of your eye,” Shaya admonished. “Especially in the dark.”
Shaya turned back to the hall and did not look back as Raoul followed. It was still madness backstage, but as soon as they descended a level, it was as quiet as a tomb. Shaya easily found a small lantern to ignite, and with it they moved into the shadows. It was clever of Erik to plunge the Opera into shadow, Shaya mused. As clever as the disaster with the chandelier he had caused to draw away all the men meant to keep him from escaping.
They soon came to the area below the stage, where ropes and huge gears moved the machinery and sets. In the flickering light of their lamp, the wheels and rigging cast ominous shadows that seemed to dance...
“There’s someone up there,” Raoul whispered. Shaya froze, eyes scanning the distant dark. Sure enough, there it was: a shadow in a felt hat.
“Stay back. He’s not on our side,” Shaya hissed, hiding the light of his lantern as the shade moved with clear purpose between the machinery. “Get down.”
They hid themselves behind one of the huge gears, holding their breath as the interloper moved past. What was he doing now? Shaya shuddered to think. After several long minutes of waiting, Shaya was certain they were alone and signaled Raoul to rise from their hiding place.
“You know who it is?” Raoul demanded when they began to move again.
“I have theories, but they’re not important. Did you say anything to Christine about the plan?”
Shaya looked over his shoulder to see Raoul swallow awkwardly. “Somehow, she knew Erik wasn’t watching and she became hysterical again.”
Shaya paused at the top of the stairwell that would take them downward to the third cellar and the secret door, the ominous sense of repetition that had dogged him all day surging again.
