Chapter nine: Muse

He knew that this time there was a trap waiting for them. It couldn't be any other way: the Queen was a flirty jealous slut, and she didn't like for her "toys" to be taken away from her. He hoped that Hellen's voice was strong enough to support his magic. She was no Christine, he though sadly, even if she looked right now just like her. It was shocking, and a little disturbing. He though that it was not fair.

He wondered why the music had transformed her into his former love. Maybe it was because Christine had always been his only muse. His angel. His music.

Hellen, in fact, was very lacking as a muse. He didn't think she had ever been beautiful, not even when she was young. She looked like the kind of boring women that finished at every dance being the wallflower. Not like the singer with her curly dark hair, and her brown eyes, and...

Why she was staring at him?

He looked at her, puzzled, and even more so when she turned to watch her own feet, blushing. What was that nonsense?

He had to concentrate in the river, in keeping it steady. It wouldn't do to end up dying while trying to save the lad. He knew that only his will, through Hellen's voice, was forcing the Queen's hand right now. He felt unsteady: the sooner they left the stream, the better. Water was a treaty element, even in the real world. Here, almost at the gates of the Queen's realm, the river had this dreamlike quality that talked about fae's magic. He tensed his hands over the row. He liked the familiarity of his old boat, even if it felt the same kind of disturbing as his old self did. It was better to not think of it, because every thought, every doubt could break his concentration. He had to impose his own illusions over the Queen's ones. He needed every bit of his mind, of his strength and will, of his shaky sanity to do so...

Please heavens, let Hellen be stronger than she looked like...

"Here we are", he said, relieved. Dry land showed at last. He guided the gondola to the shore and jumped out of it, turning to offer his hand to Hellen.

Why did you leave me, angel? He though suddenly. He tried to suffocate the feeling of betrayal that went with it. She was not her. No, she was the widow, not the young singer. Stop it right now, you old fool.

She was blushing furiously as she took his hand to help her out of the boat. That did little to ease his mind. Christine had never acted like this with him, and that was a relief since the differences were well received as an anchor to his mind; but neither Hellen had been like these before.

In front of them there was a big opening in the stonewalls, just like a fresh cut into flesh: great, scary and out of place. While the corridor and the cavern where the river was looked old, with moss and water dripping everywhere, this entry was new and seemed to have been cut through the rock, as a knife would go through butter.

It was, nonetheless, covered with stones and impossible to pass through. Someone had provoked a landslide, and there was no way to enter the cavern now.

Eric cleared his throat. He was surprised to see the usually imaginative dwarfs resort to such rough measures. "Well, here we are", he said.

"What are we going to do now?" asked uncertainly Hellen in her soft, insecure voice.

"Do not worry. I can clear a way for us, but we'll have to crawl a little. Do you think you'll be able to, Chris... Hellen?

She nodded, still not looking him in the eye. "How are you going to do it?" she said in a whisper.

"The same way I made a lot of tunnels down here". He produced a stick of dynamite from inside his cloak. Hellen stared at it, in shock. "It has no glamour, I concede." He sounded almost apologetic. "But it will do.

Hellen nodded again. Dark locks of hair concealed her eyes and shadowed her face.

Eric put the stick in a little crevice between two rocks. Then he took Hellen's hand again and guided her where the wall made a natural corner, where they would be safe from the explosion. "Stay calm. Cover your ears. It will be a blow!" he sneered.

She said nothing at all, just pressing her petite figure into his arms. Eric was appalled. Why was Hellen acting so strange?

The explosion made the whole cavern tremble and shake. Hellen did a small noise and shivered.

"Hellen? Hellen, are you hurt?" Eric was now worried. "Hellen, please, your demeanour is completely out of place. Look at me. Hellen, look at me now!" His voice grew more imperative and aggressive, trying to make her react.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to him at last. She was shivering, and blushing, lips parted. He knew that look. It was the way Christine looked at him, wasn't it?

But no, there was something different. That face, these eyes, the way she was breathing fast, as if fascinated... Oh God. Christine had looked like this, yes. When she was with Raoul. Jealousy spread through him, red and hot. He suppressed it. She was not Christine. She was not in love with Raoul.

She was not in love with him, either. He sighed, sadly. Seemed that the magic of illusions had worked one too much into his new pupil. She was unable to look away from him now, all her desires and pain too visible, too obvious in her expression.

"Hellen, listen to me" he said more softly now. "I know how you think you feel, but believe me... It's nothing but a reflection of my desires." He resisted the temptation of caressing her face. It was Christine's face, so young and beautiful. It wouldn't be right to show any affection to her, when she was like this, to lie to her and to himself like this. "I wished so much for Christine to love me..." he sighed. "I think I have imposed my will onto you through the music. That's just another illusion. Nothing else. Do you understand?

"I'm sorry" she whispered, almost too slow to hear.

He smiled, tense and apologetic, and rarely sincere. "So I am, madame. So I am. Are we going?

She nodded and lowered her eyes again. Was she crying? He preferred not to know.

"Here we go, then. To the heart of the darkness!

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Note: Sorry about the delay. I was hoping to find a good beta reader, but it seems the two I choose have a lot to deal with in real live. So, here's the text- unbetaed again. I'm desolated about it, but since I wrote this months ago, it was more than time to post it.

So, if someone is willing to beta this story, please write me. I'm VERY slow writing since I have to deal with real live, a husband, a work, a home, studies and my personal muse who comes and goes as she pleases. English not being my first language also adds to my lack of speed. I would thank anyone who takes the time, the patience and the effort that takes to beta every previous chapter, and the new ones I would provide. I have all the intention of ending this story, but it can take months.