Page 121 of Angel's Flight
Shaya didn’t attempt to disguise his shock.“How did you learn that name?”
“I learned a lot of things when I finally found someone who would be honest with me,” Meg replied.“Someone who appreciated how much I figured out on my own.”
Darius gave Shaya a look that told him all of this was news to him as well.Of course, little Meg had held onto this for dramatic effect.She was a performer after all.
“And who would that be?Don’t keep me in suspense,” Shaya asked with a sigh.
“Julianne Bonet.”Meg looked quite proud of herself.“She’s very cross with Christine for ignoring her for so many months.”
“Christine wasn’t ignoring her.Their letters were intercepted, much like mine, by Pomeroy and his men,” Shaya explained, for there was no reason to keep everything secret now.“It is how they were found and why I went to London.”
“Oh.That’s good to know, I guess.”Meg looked troubled by the news, despite her words.“Did you also know about the money that’s been stolen from the Opéra?And the crisis it’s causing?”
“Armand said there had been accounting issues and some funds had gone missing...”Shaya replied, looking to Darius for some confirmation.“I didn’t know there was a crisis.Good heavens, what have you been doing while I was away?”
“Discovering the identity of the new Opéra Ghost for one,” Meg replied with a proud smirk.“Whose motivation is exactly as I thought it was and who we needn’t fear.It’s the thief who is also using the ghost’s mask that’s the real danger, I think.”
“There are two?”Shaya was too exhausted for all these revelations, but something was itching at the back of his mind.
“Yes.One ghost punishing patrons who hurt girls,” Meg explained, much to Shaya’s amazement.“And another motivated by money and need.That’s why it’s been so confusing trying to parse who’s done what.”
“Another ghost who is associated with Sabine,” Shaya muttered.“Who may have provided her with those same missing funds.Or wanted them for himself.”
“You still think it was Richard?”Darius asked, speaking the theory forming in Shaya’s mind.“For his ends or hers?”
“It might be both,” Shaya replied.“Sabine’s situation has apparently changed.I wonder...”
“Does that mean it’s over?”Darius asked, looking between Meg and Shaya.“You’ve found one ghost and have a clue on the other?”
“No.We have to get the money back,” Meg replied urgently.“The Opéra needs it.And the Opéra needs the ghost too.To save it.”
Shaya peered at Meg, assessing her.There was something more mature about her now than when he had left, more knowing and brave.She’d decided this already, and somehow, she’d involved one ghost in it.“Is this you talking?Or the phantom you have unmasked who you have yet to tell me the name of?”
Meg raised her chin defiantly, standing her ground.“This Phantom is a friend, like the old one is yours.You will forgive me for being willing to protect that.”
Shaya thought back to the last few days.Of what he had been willing to do for a man he had once wished to destroy.Of what he had learned of the man Erik was becoming and what his hopes were for the future.He had been willing to protect that which he had once hated, and now Meg was protecting the ghost she had hunted.
“I think more than anyone, I understand that, Mademoiselle Giry,” Shaya said.“And I am going to help you.For my friends.”
Coolaney
To go into the villagealone was a particular type of adventure for Christine.First, there was the matter of being allowed to go alone.Erik not only wanted to protect her and translate for her when she went, but she had a suspicious feeling that he missed her quite terribly when she was gone.He complained jokingly that the house was haunted, but the ghosts so far were poor company.Christine had countered that they could hire a servant, and he quickly shut up.
Erik understood, however grudgingly, that Christine wanted to learn the ways and words of Coolaney on her own.Or at least practice them.She could get by well enough with her stilted English, though her one lesson in Irish had gone horribly.Erik assured her that few would expect her to learn or know it, as the English overlords had tried to snuff out the entire language.That had only made Christine more determined to learn it...eventually.
She knew the path now, down the hill from the manor and around the bend into the village proper.She knew which of the old buildings housed the baker and which hosted the cobbler who also happened to be the town’s only tailor.Someone had said the baker was also a dentist, but Christine was sure she had heard that wrong.Today though, she wanted to find an apothecary, or something of the like.
As had been her strategy for everything so far, she would start at the pub.She smiled at Hugh behind the bar when she entered.He was a large man with broad shoulders and a ginger-blond beard who was quick with a kind word and a drink.He knew everyone and everything that went on in the town and if he didn’t know, Connie the barmaid would.She was as enamored of gossip as a ballet rat, though Christine could barely understand anything she said.They could probably both tell Christine where she needed to go, but she decided her best bet was Siobhan, who was by the fire attending Sir Edward, as usual.
“Good morning, Mrs.Gilbride,” Siobahn said as Christine approached, scrambling out of her seat and attempting something like a curtsey.Christine was unsure if Siobhan treated her like she was nobility because of mistaken identity or simply because of the status that came with owning the manor.
“Good morning.You can call me by Christine,” she said carefully.
“Oh no, Ma’am.That wouldn’t be right,” Siobhan said, blushing.“How can I help you today?”
“I need to find a...I do not know the word,” Christine began.She could have asked her husband before leaving, she knew, but he had been elbow-deep in the piano when she’d looked in on him and she hadn’t wanted to disrupt his concentration.“A person who sells...medcin?Herbs?”
“Oh, that’ll be Oona!”Siobahn cried happily, and suddenly, Christine was being herded back out the door and Siobhan was pointing to a little house at the end of the street, talking too fast for Christine to translate in her head.Something about plants and babies?Maybe Oona was the midwife.
