Page 90 of Angel's Flight
Moncharmin looked confused.It was Meg’s fault for not being clearer, but she didn’t want to be indelicate.“Hurting who?”he asked.
“Dancers.Like me.They have taken advantage of the girls,” Meg explained, and Moncharmin immediately shook his head.
“The relationships of the patrons with the young ladies of the ballet can be distasteful, I know, but it’s how things are done.”
Meg felt as if she was speaking another language, and that Moncharmin was merely indulging her.He needed the patrons.The only reason she had been saved from the wrath of the Comte de Chagny was because he no longer was one, not because she didn’t deserve it.
“Of course, it was a foolish fancy,” Meg muttered.“I won’t trouble you any further.”
“Do come to me if you hear anything of more note,” Moncharmin said, and she knew he meant it as kindness.Meg nodded and showed herself out.
The halls were empty as she walked back towards the rehearsal salons; devoid of life in a way that made Meg lonelier with each step.
She was of no use, was she?She’d made trouble for the manager and bothered him with her hairbrained ideas.Shaya had only cared about her as much as he could benefit from her connections.She’d been used and discarded, and that was something she was expected to tolerate in her position.She kicked a knot in the floorboards with the toe of the ballet slipper in annoyance, like the child she was seen as...
“Meg.”
She looked up at the sound of the whisper to find the hall empty, and a chill ran down her spine.
“Who’s there?”Meg demanded, gooseflesh rising on her arms.
“I think you know,” the voice replied from somewhere Meg couldn’t see.The voice of a ghost – husky and intimate.
“You,” Meg whispered.
“You’re on the right track, young Meg,” the voice went on.“Which is why you must turn back.Don’t make any more trouble for me.”
“I can’t though,” Meg replied, excitement and terror filling her in equal measure.“I need to know.”
“You’ll be hurt.”Meg could make out no details about the speaker from the voice, only that they seemed to entirely lack a body and knew what she had been doing.
“So will you, if you’re caught,” Meg found herself saying.
“You don’t want that?”the ghost asked as if it was surprised.
Meg paused, as she had with Moncharmin, thinking back to all she knew of this ghost at its mission.No, its righteous cause.
“I don’t want to be used anymore, by anyone,” Meg declared at last.“I want to help.”
The hall echoed with potent silence as Meg’s heart picked up speed.Had she spoken wrong?Had she revealed too much?
“And help you shall.For now, be silent, and we will see what more you can be.”
Meg knew the moment that the speaker left; she felt the energy go out of the room and she had to lean against the wall to steady herself.
She had spoken to the phantom – whatever or whoever it was that had taken to the Opéra halls now.She had bared her soul, in a small way, and been rewarded.Or damned.She wasn’t sure which.But she knew now, with certainty, whose side she was on.
