Feeling self-conscious and embarrassed, Erik busied himself. "Supper...you must be starved." He said lightly as he walked away.

Christine just stood there, her head cocked and spinning, feeling so confused, though her heart was soaring. How could a simple kiss stir so much emotion within?

Though she tried to push it away, the thought of Raoul came to mind. Why had she never experienced that with him? With all her sixteen year old heart, she thought she loved him. Yet never had she felt the deep feelings she was now. The deep feelings that made her sure in every way just how much she loved her musical angel.

She watched as Erik got food out of the pouches, his back turned towards her. Suddenly, she heard something from behind her, but before she could turn, an arm was around her shoulder, and something glistening and hard was at her throat. Letting out an involuntary scream, Christine backed into whomever was holding her, trying to get the sharp blade of the rusted dagger away from her throat.

Erik had heard the piercing scream, and whirled around, dropping their precious food to the ground that he had in his arms, and started to run towards her.

"Uh, you may stop right there, my masked sir." A man's voice said, coming right above Christine's ear. She was trembling terribly, willing her legs to keep her standing.

Erik stopped in his tracks. "Let her go." Was all that he requested in a deep, low voice.

"I'll let 'er go...for a trade." The man said, an evil grin slowly coming to his lips.

"But we have nothing!" Erik exclaimed. "We travel with nothing but what we have on our backs. We have our horse..."

"I don't want your horse! Look at that sorry creature - he's ready to fall over dead. You drove him to his death, a poor innocent creature. But why should that be surprising? What's a lowly horse, when you carelessly murdered so many innocent people?"

Christine saw Erik tense up, his shoulders straighten. "Then what do you want?" He asked, but it was easy to see that he already knew what the man would say.

"You. I'll spare her, let her go free, for you. Surely you must know the huge reward over your heads? It's more money than I could spend in a lifetime; not that I surely wouldn't try. See, I got nothing either, 'cept my own horse here and this beat up ol' wagon. Had ta sell my farm, seeing that I couldn't afford to keep it up. They took away all my animals, everything I had left. My family up and died - got some sickness or other; couldn't afford real doctors. But now, I'm gonna get me a new wife, start a new family, and none of them are ever going to die like my last. I'll have money, now wont I?"

Christine would have found pity for him under different circumstances, but not now. But neither said a word to the man, just stood there, trying to let their minds comprehend what was happening to their perfect dream; watching it shatter before their eyes.

"A trade then, or no?" The man persisted.

"What if I don't trade?" Erik asked, making Christine tremble more. She trusted him with her life, but it chilled her blood to hear him ask such a thing.

"Well, I think you could guess. Course, I'd probably need to take that half dead horse of mine, seein' in don't want to ruin mine just for a dead body to haul back to Paris."

"You wouldn't kill her." Erik said, trying to call his bluff.

"Wouldnt I?"

"The reward-"

"Is for dead or alive. And if she's dead, I could make it up to be that you kidnaped her and then were her murderer; which would raise the amount of money for you. Then I could find you once more - and there I have it - all the money. Course, that might be suspicious, just happening to know where you are twice. But you don't have to worry none for my sake. I could always keep her alive, and tell all of Paris the truth about her. About how this lovely songbird aint as sweet as everyone wants to think. I could just tell them how she left her valiant Vicomte to pursue a criminal's life, following her true love...a murdering 'phantom'. I suppose you could also guess what her life would be like - when they find out what she did; helped such a monster. And I'd make sure the rich Vicomte wouldn't be able to set her free."

"But you had it right the first time. I kidnaped her from the Opera House the night I left." Erik said quickly, his eyes widening.

"Oh yes, I suppose that would be correct, wouldn't it? I mean, any kidnaped person would put their arms around the man that took them away; kiss him; hug him. And the kidnapper would be so quick as to run to her rescue. If she was kidnaped, she'd want you to die. Do you want him to die, madame?" The man said sarcastically. He had seen too much to believe a word Erik said now.

Erik looked at Christine, his heart-stopping green eyes piercing into her with his tortured look. It made her stomach hurt and her heart ache.
Then Erik turned to the man, nodding slowly. "It's a trade." He said in a low voice.

Christine cried out. "Erik you cant! Don't trade, please! He'll bring you back to Paris - they'll kill you! It's not likely they'll even give you a trial. And even if they did, Madame Giry would never tell all her secrets. She wont stand up for you - not with Meg being the led opera singer, for it would ruin Meg's reputation. Blood is thicker than water, Erik! Even if she did the right thing, who would listen? You'll be shot, or hanged...tortured." She said frantically, then adding in a lower, sad voice, "Erik...please!"

But he ignored her. Every once in a while he met her eyes, but still said nothing to her plea. Both of them knew what he had to do, but Christine's mind, heart, soul - everything in her was screaming to help him, to somehow get both of them out of this. But it was no use, and there was no escape.
"Let her go first." Erik said before giving himself up.

"You think I am a fool?" the man said, as if offended. "You think I know nothing of how you're the world's greatest magician?"

"Give me your word, a solid vow, that you'll release her and not harm her if I trade."

"Swear on my grave, as well as my families. Satisfied?"

"No. If I do this, I want you to swear that you'll say nothing about Christine; that she was not kidnaped."

"I think you forget who makes the rules around here; and who has this sharp dagger against the woman's throat." the man said. Erik said not another word.

Christine was shifted into the man's other arm, releasing her of his other arm, but still, she could not get away. The dagger was pressing even harder into her skin, so that it hurt her, stinging her. She kept blinking hard, trying to ward off a fainting spell she could feel coming on. But if she was to faint, to move just half an inch lower from her knees giving out, she knew it would be fatal.

"So, the great Phantom of the Opera Populaire has a name? Erik...strong name...shame it's wasted on such a beast." The man said, picking up on Christine's wasted pleas as he loosly tied Erik's wrists. Erik's face was close to Christine's. He licked his lips, trying to make a plan in his head. Finally, he turned back to her.

"Listen to me, Christine. Find your way into the net town. Just bare to the left through those woods over there. It'll lead you to a small town. Ask around for Nadir - you'll find him there. He knows you. Tell him what you like. And Christine, stay with him until he tells you to go back. He keeps up with the news, he'll know..." He whispered, the last part more to himself than to her. Christine looked at him in horror, knowing what he meant by it - Nadir, whomever he was, would send her back after Erik's execution. It felt like Erik had kicked her when he said those words - she couldn't seem to catch herr breath, and everything hurt her so badly.

When he had finished looping the ropes around, he shoved Christine hard into the ground, making jagged rocks from the field cut into her. She screamed from the sudden rush of pain. Erik had whirled around to see her with wide, angry eyes. He seemed to be shaking all over with fury from the man doing that to her. Even something small that someone did to hurt her, he got so angry about. But wasn't that how it always was?
The man, ignoring her now, pulled the ropes as tight as he could around Erik's wrists, making him wince in pain. Then the man, making a lasso, wrapped it around Erik's neck, and pulled tight so he couldn't get out of it.

Erik would have laughed, if he was not so furious. He supposed that that's what you call ironic - he killed men many times using a punjab lasso. Now there was one around his own neck.

The man pulled again on the rope around Erik's neck, making him stumble forward. Christine started to cry heavily, seeing him being treated in such a way.

Now, with Erik tied to the wagon like some worthless animal, the man went to his seat in front and started away, leaving Christine laying in the mud, grass and rocks, feeling absolutely nothing of her minor injuries. As soon as the wagon was out of sight, she screamed in anguish as loud as she could, shattering the night's peace.

"Why?" She shouted to the heavens. Those stars that she had admired just minutes ago now seemed to turn from diamonds to glaring eyes, mocking her; watching her helpless form from so high above.

"Why?" She yell again. "He was a good, kind man. He wasn't a monster or beast! Now the officers of Paris shall kill him before the world ever had a chance to realize it; that they rid themselves not of a murderer, but of a unique, wonderful, sensual genius."

She said no more. Instead, she collapsed into the long, wild grass and sobbed until her great weariness and fainting spells took over and gave her sweet relief.

I'm not allowed to reply to reviews here anymore, but please keep them coming:)