Here is the next chapter. It was meant as a Christmas or Holiday preasent for my faithful readers, but I had some things I hae fix up. So, it turned into a New Years gift instead. I own nothing, but the characters not in the Phantom of the Opera. Thank you again to by BETAer who pionted some things out to me and I hope I fixed them well. (A/N I'm sorry I forget to give this chapter a title. This tlte is from The Sound of Music, the musical. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Christine bolted awake and sat up, the cloak falling to her lap. She blinked rapidly, pushing the nightmarish images from her mind. In her dream, she had seen and heard the staff and the crazy voices of the other inmates. They had all surrounded and taunted her. Her breathing was shallow as she looked down at her wrists, the faint red indentations and scars from the chains still visible in the last fragments of firelight. They mocked her and forced her to remember the pain she had endured and she averted her eyes at the memory. There had been no Prince Charming on a fine horse to come to her aid. She tried in vain to remember who had put her in such a place, but it did not matter.

She had escaped with the help of the same demon she had been told numerous times did not exist. Cautiously, Christine glanced over to the silent figure hunched over, his back to the flames. His shoulders sagged as though he bore the weight of guilt and regret. Still, he held his head high, probably keeping watch as he had done over the last few days. Unconsciously, her hand moved and caressed the silver, the metal ice cold under her touch. She closed her eyes and sighed.

Over the last few days, their small group had fallen into a routine of rising before dawn and traveling until just before sunset with Erik at the lead, Orane in the middle, and Christine in the back. None of them spoke, instead walking in an awkward agreement of silence, except when asking for food, water, and personal needs. Their diet consisted of fruit and water, but even that was growing scarce as they moved closer to the mountains which separated their country from Spain. How were they going to get over them with no aid? Pressing her lips together, she pushed herself away from silver, grabbed the cloak, and took a few steps toward their leader.

His voice, though soft, seemed to cut through the air. "Couldn't you sleep?"

Christine shook her head but realized he had not turned around to face her. She took a deep breath. "No."

"Was it the nightmares? I heard you mumbling in your sleep."

She paused. "Why…why did you not wake me then?"

"You needed the sleep, no matter how unpleasant. You cannot go without rest or your body will wear itself out."

"You do not sleep."

Erik shifted and looked over his shoulder at her. "That is different."

Christine frowned. "How?"

"It just is. Now go back to sleep, my dear. We still have a long journey ahead of us."

"How much longer do we have to go?"

"Unfortunately, we still have a long way."

Christine surveyed the dark forest until she found herself looking beyond Erik. "…How will we make it across the mountains?"

Leaves crunched under his feet as he stood up and walked toward her, his eyes following her gaze. "We'll get through….even with the boy."

Christine glanced over at Orane who was shifting to find a comfortable position to sleep. "Are you certain?"

Erik nodded. "Oui."

"But, where in Spain shall we go?"

"I have not thought that far ahead, but I will let you know soon."

She frowned again and opened her mouth, but he had turned away from her, returning to his post of lookout. Running her hands through her hair, she sighed, anxious. How could she just follow him to a distant country she knew nothing of? Why was she following him without question? Did he still have power over her like he had at the opera house, though she remembered little of her life there?

A cold wind blew around her as the words and taunts of the staff members echoed in the near silence. He will lead you to the fires of hell if you follow him. Christine shook her head, but still the voices would not cease. Why won't he speak more on the matter if he were being honest? Has he ever been honest with you?

Once more, she shook those thoughts away. They were wrong. He saved her from that terrible place; yet, something still made her uneasy about him. Christine raised her eyes and looked at his back. He was not being completely honest with her. Every time she tried to converse with him, he became distant from her when all she wanted to do was make more of his acquaintance.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, she looked down at her left hand. An image of a ring that had once been on her finger floated through her head. Yet, he the man she loved was not even here. Tears began to roll down her face as she came to the sickening truth. She was all alone with no one to care for her. Erik provided her with the basic needs of food, water, and fire, but he acted as though she was a child.

The sound of a soft cry brought her out of her thoughts. Christine turned and stared at the trembling small figure against the tree. She glanced over at Erik again, but he ignored the noises from Orane. She took a deep breath and walked over to the gypsy, but stayed a short distance away. "Are you all right?"

He paused his moving around and bowed his head.

She sighed, shifted over to the right, allowing the small firelight to illuminate his face, and then knelt down. "Are you all right, Orane?"

He raised his head and stared at her, his eyes glistening with tears. "I…I…heard you yelling….I thought….they may be here?"

Christine cocked an eyebrow. "Who?"

Orane shook his head. "No one."

Christine reached out and rested her hand on his knee. "I'm…sorry if I frightened you. No one's coming, Orane, but that's not what you were crying about was it?"

Once more, he shook his head.

Christine lowered her gaze to the ground. "Do your feet hurt?"

He shifted away from her, as though ashamed.

"It's all right. I only mean to check on them so they do not come to more damage."

He glanced over and snarled. "I'm fine."

Without another word, he turned away, and rested his head on his knees, a sign of dismissal. Christine sighed and nodded to herself before returning to her own established area. Why should she care about the little thief so much? Once more, her eyes wandered and settled in the direction Erik looked. He was correct; a child now complicated their travel and winter coming in only a few weeks. As a young girl, she and Father had spent many cold nights on the streets when he had been unable to get work.

She could still feel the harsh wind brushing past her small body as she tried to stay warm next to him, under a small jacket. Unconsciously, she drew the cloak up and wrapped it around her shoulders, bringing her knees to her chest. It seemed so strange. Despite the years, she still felt like a child. Only this time, no one was there to comfort her. Lying down, she tried to focus on anything else, to stay awake. Erik's words ran through her mind. How could he know what the nightmares were like? He never spoke more than few words to her and yet somehow she sensed he truly did know. What demons did he have to deal with? She glanced over at Erik, but he never looked at her. Closing her eyes, Christine tried in vain to sleep.

XxX

The late morning sun hung high in the sky by the time the group paused at the base of the mountain. A yawn escaped her as her eyes grew wide. An image of the massive brick walls which had surrounded the asylums' courtyard filled her mind. How where they going to get over? She recalled Erik's words from the previous night and stared at Orane, who was for once alone. How could such a fragile child climb a mountain? It seemed impossible. Uncertainly, she looked around and spotted Erik a little ways off. Biting her lip, she walked over and followed his gaze to a small dirt path which disappeared into the rock formations further up.

Christine gulped and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Is this where we will start to climb?"

Erik's eyes remained on the path. "Oui, it is the widest area, but it will get narrow quickly."

She nodded. "But what about Orane, how shall he climb?"

"He'll manage."

"But-"

Erik turned and stared at her. "He'll manage."

Christine craned her neck up to see the mountain. "And this will take us into Spain?"

"It will. Now come we have a lot of ground to cover."

She watched him leave before she craned her neck back, examining the mountains' side. She pressed her lips together, her legs suddenly weak. As a dancer, her legs had been able to execute strenuous movements, but now she felt her legs give out at the very idea of such a thing. How could a child climb such steep areas without any training? She turned at the sound of footsteps as Erik and Orane came toward her.

Erik paused for a moment. "Are you ready?"

Christine shook her head. "Non."

Erik stared at her.

"Look at these mountains. Do you honestly think we can climb these in our states of health?"

He craned his neck, examining the rock formation again. After a moment, he turned to her. "You're right, I suppose I miscalculated our chances of climbing. I will find another way to get us through."

He turned around, pulling Orane behind him and began to circle the mountain again, with Christine silently following them. After a few minutes, Erik paused and pointed up a small path that ran into the mountain. "There, we can go through the mountain instead of over it."

Christine nodded. Erik moved in front of her, pulling Orane behind him with Christine at the end as they walked into the mouth of the mountain. Their process was slow, but steady as the day wore on. Christine felt shivers of fear run down at her spine, the darkness surrounding her on all sides. She tried to keep her eyes on the path in front of her, carefully watching where she placed her feet, using the wall as a guide as well.

The deeper they went inside the cold mountain, the deeper the darkness grew. She tried in vain to keep up with the others, but the darkness hid them from her. Only the sound of their footsteps showed their presence. Never once did she hear a complaint or any notice any trouble in scaling the mountain from Orane; it was as though he had done harder exercises than this in his short life.

Where has the boy come from?

She felt her foot slip as her body began to fall forward, off the ledge. A loud scream of terror and a single word escaped her lips as her sleeves tore. She felt herself falling until a firm hand grabbed her waist and pulled her to safety. In almost one fluid motion, as though she was just a rag doll, Christine was back on the edge, beside him.

Her breath came in slowly as she blinked and stared at him. How had he come to her aid so quickly? Was he not in front of their little group? Other questions raced her mind, but only one slipped from her lips. "How?"

Erik glanced over at her, a small glint of something in his eye. "Has your angel ever failed to help you when able to do?"

Christine blinked. "What do you mean?"

Erik smirked and turned away from her. "I'll let you figure it out, angel. Now come we still have a lot of ground to cover."

Gently, he took her wrist and led her away from the ledge and back to the main path where Orane stood. She felt him release her wrist and heard his footsteps as he resumed walking the trail. His words replayed over and over in her mind. Had the Angel of Music ever failed in protecting her? She shook her head. No, he was a demon from hell, the scars on his face and his cold demeanor proved as much.

Yet, he had saved her again. A demon would have never saved her, but did that make him an angel? She shivered as the wind swirled around her; the breeze echoing her scream from the fall. Once more, she shook her head, turned, and followed Erik and Orane; the same questions running through her mind as she and the others continued through the mountain.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this installement to the story. Please let me know what you think, good, bad, whatever. I wish you all a Happy New Years and a late Happy Holidays everyone.