This is a long one...and I am afraid it is not as exciting as I would like it to be. BUT, it is important and next chapter will be much more exciting (in a good way). Enjoy!

Chapter 16: A Distressing Discovery

"What happened?" Meg finally asked, cutting through the thick tension in the atmosphere. She took a bite of flatbread, her eyes never leaving her dear friend. They had been sitting in silence until a few guards arrived with a bowl of berries and dry pieces of bread. The women huddled around the food, all eagerly taking their own piece and a handful of berries. Until then, they all had been staring at Christine. They waited for her to explain with bated breath but no courage to ask.

"We just talked and sang."

"What did he say?" Carlotta asked.

Christine thought back to their conversation. She was absolutely terrified throughout the entire ordeal. Yet, despite everything that had transpired, he had somewhat acted like a gentleman. He apologized for hurting her and then helped her warm up her voice. He didn't have to be kind, but he was. He didn't have to feed her and all her friends, including the men, but he did. Yes, he was ominous, but a gentleman nonetheless.

She shook her head. He cut off Firmin's finger even though it seemed to be in self defense. He locked the women in cages and dragged the men behind a wagon up a mountain, though he did explain his reasoning. Every cruel response seemed to have some sort of justification, but Christine couldn't deny that his responses were violent. He was dangerous, that much was true. As he had said, he was bringing them to their demise. It didn't matter if he was genuine about her father's death or if he wrapped her bandages. Something wasn't right.

"He used to be a composer before he worked for the Shah and he knows that we are innocent. He wants to help us, but I don't know if we can trust him."

"Are we really going to perform for the Shah?"

"Yes. He will give us time to rehearse tomorrow, but he said we should practice while we travel. He said...that if we don't please him, we will die."

Jammes whimpered. "Why? This doesn't make any sense."

"If we do, will he let us go?" Sophia asked.

"I don't know. I think it is outside his control. His job is to bring us to the Shah, but it is the Shah who will decide if we live or die. I think if we please the Shah, we will live."

"What else did he say?"

"He apologized for hurting me. I guess he thought I was some spy. He is making the men walk because there was not enough room in the cage for us all, and apologized for that. Then I sang and he re-wrapped my bandages. I don't know if we can trust him. He seems genuine and I think he wants to help us. Otherwise why would he save us from the soldier or help us with our performance?"

Madame Giry gripped Christine's hand, moving for the first time since Christine had returned. "Do not mistake his mercy for friendship."

Christine stared at the wide-eyed woman. She could feel the slight tremble in Madame Giry's fingers. Her chalky knuckles matched her pale face.

Carlotta scoffed. "She is right. Don't be a fool, Christine. He wants you to trust him for some malicious reason. He is toying with you."

Christine gulped. Was that really his intent? Was she really so naive? He almost seemed to be two different people when she was around him. The man she had met on the mountain was nothing like the man she had sang with. But when she accused him of nearly killing her, his change in behaviour confirmed they were one in the same. She shuddered as she thought of how fast he had grabbed her and how ferocious his voice had become.

"Did he hurt you?" Jammes whispered.

Christine looked at the trembling ballerina. Jammes was afraid; they all were. Their lives now rested on this one performance. Their lives now rested with her. "No. He didn't." She responded, though her aching voice began to grow weaker.

"Christine, why are you trembling?" Meg asked.

Christine hesitated. There was no point in keeping secrets now. "If I don't please the Shah. If I don't sing to his standards then we will..." She couldn't finish her sentence. Sophia leaned forward, hushing her gently.

"Christine. None of this is your fault, no matter what happens. It is the Shah who is to blame."

Christine nodded, trying to hold back her tears.

"Should we trust him? The Angel of Death?" Matilda wondered out loud.

"No. He is dangerous." Madame Giry responded quickly.

Sorelli scowled at her ballet instructor. Her brows furrowed downwards in confusion. "You seem terrified of him." She accused.

Madame Giry did not meet her eyes. "Of course I am. Have you been blind this entire journey?"

"You barely know him, correct? So why are you so terrified? What did you mean when you said 'it cannot be'?"

Madame Giry opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She hugged her knees closer and remained silent.

"Madame, what aren't you telling us?" Sorelli asked, her voice intensifying. The women all turned to the ballet instructor in confusion.

"That guard coming towards us speaks french. Be silent." Madame Giry informed, ignoring Sorelli's question.

Christine internally groaned as she saw the provocative smile of Darius. He arrived with another guard, who took the now empty fruit bowl from the women. Darius climbed up and sat in the front of the wagon, turning so he was leaning against the cage bars. He lifted the skirt roof to give him a downward view of the women, who all scowled at him. Since the driver's seat was so much higher, he could lean against the top corner of the cage comfortably while sitting. They were all perturbed that he was within hearing distance. He flashed a toothy, knowing smile.

"It is late, and we have a long day ahead of us. I would suggest you all rested." Darius recommended, winking at the frustrated women.

The women shuffled awkwardly into their previous sleeping positions, knowing full well their new guard was there to eavesdrop.

Christine curled up against the bars, her back now to Meg. She stared out at the camp to the tip of a distant tent mostly hidden behind some large boulders. Her eyes were drawn to it and her mind drawn to its occupant. As she stared in wonder at his tent, she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

-Many Hours Later:-

Christine was awoken by a sharp elbow to the ribs. She internally promised herself that once this was over, she would scold Meg on her bedside manner.

She quickly opened her eyes at the sound of a metallic clank. A solider unlocked the cage door. Behind him, another soldier gripped onto a limp, but conscious Ignacio and a wide-eyed Reiner. They opened the cage and pushed the two men in.

Sophia let out a sharp cry and pulled Ignacio into an embrace. Ignacio raised his fatigued arms up and held onto his wife. He muttered her name over and over, previously certain that he would never hold her again. Matilda gave Reiner a welcoming hug and he nodded towards all the women. Christine noted how relieved he looked. Both of their shirts were stained with dust, sweat, and blood. Despite Reiner's best effort, she could see how frail they had become.

Christine looked towards the other men. They all stood together, staring at the tall, black shadow in front of them. Christine stared intently at the familiar back of the Angel of Death. His gloved hands were clasped behind his back, though his head slightly turned. He was watching the soldiers place the older men into the cage. A part of Christine wondered if in his periphery, he was watching her too.

Once the soldiers returned, they escorted the men to a wagon at the end of the line. Carlotta cried and reached out for her Piangi, begging them to let him in the cage. The women were already cramped before adding the two, thin men. There was no more room, especially not for Piangi.

Ignacio put his hand on the diva's shoulder. "Don't worry. They are not walking today."

The women turned to him. "No?"

"No. The Angel of Death has cleared some space in one of the wagons. They will be cramped, but they will rest."

Christine's heart fluttered. He had listened to her! Did that mean that, for once, her bravery had resulted positively? Now her friends had a decent meal in their system and they would be able to rest. Christine couldn't stop the small smile that crept onto her face. Her eyes drifted back to the shadow, who had begun walking to the front of the caravan. He paused when their eyes locked and gave her a curt nod. Christine nodded back, the small smile still plastered onto her lips. Yes, this was because of her. He had shown mercy for her.

Maybe he wasn't so monstrous after all?

Once the rest of the soldiers had cleared the campsite, they continued their journey down the faded trails. It was then Reiner finally spoke. "I believe we have much to talk about." His voice was hoarse. "I want to begin by expressing my sincerest sympathy to you ladies, I saw what happened last night. I am sorry you were submitted to such cruelty."

Jammes and Meg mumbled a thank you, clearly embarrassed.

"How is Firmin?" Matilda asked.

"He will survive. The idiot thought they were in the capital and if that he attacked the so-called 'Angel of Death' he could escape into the city. He was lucky that thing only cut off his finger."

Christine exhaled. Her new maestro was telling the truth. His action had been in self defence. She could feel the eyes of the other women glance towards her, just for a moment, all of them thinking the same thing. Christine almost felt relieved. Did this mean everything else he had said was genuine? Did he really want to help them?

"Do you know who he is?" Madame Giry asked. Christine glanced at her. Her wide eyes and haunting voice were all alien to her normal personality. Why was she so terrified of him?

"He is an assassin for the Shah."

The women gasped. An assassin? A murderer? Christine shivered. She didn't understand why she was surprised. She had seen him nearly choke someone to death twice. Even if his retaliation against Firmin was self defence, battling two managers, one with a knife, and only cutting off a finger demonstrated irrefutable skill. Even last night she knew that he was a dangerous man and that if he wanted to hurt her, he easily could have. But still, the confirmation perplexed her. How did a composer become an assassin? If he was a killer, then why did he want to keep them alive? Why was it that, just for a moment, he seemed like a good man before another gruesome fact emerged? Something about him just did not make sense.

"But yes, Madame. I know."

"What do you mean? Know what?" Ignaco questioned

"What did André say?" Madame Giry interrupted.

Reiner was quick to answer despite Sorelli and Ignacio's drowned out protests. "He explained why we are here. I don't know if it should be told with the present company."

"Tell us." Madame Giry ordered. "They're all old enough to know why they are here."

Reiner nodded. He sighed and explained to them of the conversation he had with André during the night in as much detail as he could remember.

-Reiner POV:-

"André, what is going on?" He had asked the manager. Reiner was leaning against a small tree next to André, holding onto the barely conscious Firmin in his frail arms. The others were all lying nearby with their hands tied behind their backs. Reiner did not know why he did not receive the same treatment, but there was no way in hell he was going to try to escape. He could barely feel his feet, let alone stand. All of the men could barely move. They were too exhausted from their travel. Yet, they all gathered the strength to turn to the manager, who lowered his head in shame.

"We have been betrayed." André sobbed. "These are the Shah of Persia's men. They are taking us to him. They are bringing us to our death."

"Betrayed?" Bastian rasped.

"This is all Buquet's fault. That idiot. He sold us out to the Shah because of some rat."

"Buquet? What are you talking about?"

André shook his head, his eyes rolling like a mad man. "I cannot say. I cannot say." He cried.

"It is the Chagnys' fault!" Firmin groaned. His eyes remained shut. Firmin had barely spoken throughout the night, his voice hoarse from his violent screams earlier on. His clothes were stained with his own blood and his hand swollen and burned. Regardless, Reiner knew he was lucky to be alive.

"The Chagnys? Our patrons?" Louis asked.

"It is their fault we are here. They tricked us, they led us down this path!" André cried.

"For God's sake man! Lower your voice. You speak in riddles. Explain yourself." Reiner hissed.

"André." Firmin pleaded, his voice a faint whisper. "André, tell them the truth. We may not survive to ever have the opportunity again."

André hesitated, unable to look at his broken colleague. "Firmin and I have...been trading with the Shah for some time. He brought goods into France and we helped him ship them to his followers. We didn't care about the politics, it was just business. We were able to pay for repairs and ensure that you were all paid well. Haven't we been paying you well? But, the Chagnys betrayed us! They are so focused on their reputations that they sent us out here to die to save themselves. When they learned of our trades, they were furious, merely because their political friends were against the Shah. It would spoil their reputation if the world knew the opera they funded was affiliated with him, even though our business was helping the people of France. It was helping you! It was just business! It wasn't our fault!"

Reiner hushed the frantic manager. After a deep breath, he continued. "The Shah wanted us to visit with our opera to thank us for our patronage and to see our performance. He wanted to use the guise of a tour to help him smuggle back soldiers and guns to Europe. Nothing terrible would happen, it was just to make a stand against his enemies. We didn't want to come, believe me! Soldiers and guns was just too far. But the Chagnys were adamant! If we went and returned with the Shah's soldiers and their guns, they would intercept us and paint us like poor frenchmen caught up in his vile schemes. It would save their reputation and garner other European nations to start some silly little war."

"Soldiers? Guns? André, what are you talking about?!"

The deranged manager sobbed. "Oh Reiner, we did not want to come, but if we didn't the opera would be shut down. We had no choice! We knew if we went to Persia, we would never be able to escape. But the Chagnys needed to play the heroes that began a revolution against a tyrant. But we were betrayed. Someone told the Shah of their plan and now we are to pay the price. Oh I am so sorry. God forgive us! There is a rat. A rat I tell you!"

The manager burst into tears, his entire body shaking against the weight of his guilt. Reiner stared at the other men, their eyes wide. They were on their ways to their death for betraying a king. They were on their way to pay for the sins that were not theirs...

-Christine POV:-

"No! Phillipe would not do that!"

Christine sat in shock. Reiner jumped at Sorelli's denial, his head clearly lost in his memories whilst explaining his story. He continued.

"If we were to be caught in Greece with the soldiers, it would garner support of other European nations against the Shah and the Chagnys could paint the managers as poor businessmen caught in a trap on their tour."

"This is insane!" Matilda cried. "You're saying the Changy family sent us here knowing we would be captured? To start a war?"

Christine felt her heart tighten. That couldn't be true. Did Raoul know? She stared into Reiner's eyes, who looked between the two ballerinas in shame. Although she was too stunned to speak, her eyes begged him to deny these claims. Her childhood friend wouldn't have stood by as she blindly walked into a trap. The man who had confessed his love to her would not do this.

"I am sorry. They wanted to intercept us in Greece... but it sounds like they were aware of the potential consequences. "

"Liar!" Sorelli yelled. Jammes tried to cover her friend's mouth but Sorelli fought against her. "My Phillipe would not do that! He wouldn't send me off to die!"

Christine put her hand on her chest, over the spot where Raoul's ring used to rest. Raoul was ambitious, but not cruel. He couldn't have sent her out here to die, especially not after asking for her hand in marriage. Her mind raced. She knew he was intelligent, that he was able to calculate risk. Did he not see the risk in sending them here?

I can keep you safe here. Please, Christine, don't go. Stay here and marry me.

Was that his warning? Just one simple statement before letting her walk into the lion's den? She felt tears begin to form in her eyes. How could he send her into this hell? Why didn't he tell her?

"I'm sorry. " Reiner muttered.

"There must be more to this story. Phillipe wouldn't do that. Hell, Raoul wouldn't do that." Sorelli spat, looking at the stunned Christine for support.

"Reiner, what is in the boxes?" Madame Giry whispered. "What are they 'trading'?"

Reiner hesitated. "Their goods. They have been working with the Shah to transport opiates from eastern nations into Europe. The boxes are filled with all that was left in the Opera."

The women gasped, staring at each other in shock.

"Opiates? Aren't those drugs? That cannot be."

"Why would they do such a thing?"

"I knew they were hiding something!"

"This cannot be happening!"

"Silence!" Madame Giry hissed. "I understand that we are all scared. But we must be calm." She grabbed Sorelli's hand. "I do not believe the Chagnys sent us here to die. That seems very unlikely considering that you and Christine are here. We need to find out more information. At least now, we have an idea as to what is going on. Panicking will not help us. Thank you, Reiner."

Reiner nodded. Christine was relieved to hear Madame Giry's normal authoritative tone. For most of the morning she had been pale and dismissive, but now she could see the fire growing back into her cheeks. They all needed someone to support them, and Madame Giry was the only one strong enough to support them all.

"Based off what André said, we now know the managers came here to return their supply of opiates to the Shah under the guise of a tour and somehow our patrons were involved, yes?" She confirmed.

Sorelli huffed and cried into Jammes's shoulder. Christine felt Meg pull her into a hug and wipe away tears from her cheek. She didn't even realize she was crying.

"You forgot the rat." Carlotta whispered. "André mentioned a rat."

Reiner nodded. "Yes. I didn't understand what he meant by that."

"The Angel of Death mentioned it too. He said there was a rat among us who helped André and Firmin. Like their associates."

Reiner looked to Ignacio, who shrugged. "He kept repeating that there was a rat, but I don't think André knew who the rat was. Whoever they are, they seemed to have a part in this betrayal."

"He doesn't know who his own associate was?" Matilda asked. She threw her hands up in frustration. "This just doesn't make sense! The more we learn the more confusing this whole debacle becomes."

"Do you think it could be Bastian?" Meg wondered.

"Bastian?" Reiner asked.

"Well, Buquet was the one who sold them out, right? Bastian and Buquet were quite close. Maybe they worked together?"

"It is possible. But Bastian seemed to be just as shocked as the rest of us when we learned about the drugs."

"Maybe his time at the opera has improved his acting skills." Ignacio muttered.

"But that also doesn't make any sense." Sophia wondered. "What if just Buquet was the rat? He could be hiding anywhere in Europe. We never met up with him in Italy."

"Buquet is dead, my dear. The Angel of Death informed the managers of his death. Regardless, it could still be him."

Madame Giry shrugged. "We will need to be wary."

"I will keep an eye on Bastian, if I have the chance." Reiner agreed. "There is also the possibility that the rat is still in Paris."

"Yes." Sophia agreed. "Think of all the strange people they would have known selling opiates. The rat could be anyone."

Christine bit her lip. The Angel of Death seemed certain that the rat was among them. Based on her interactions with him, she didn't think he was easily fooled. She glanced around the cage. Why did he confront the women about this and not the men? Did he have reason to believe that the rat was a woman? Instead of joining in on the conversation, she decided to keep her thoughts to herself. Whoever this rat was, it was unlikely that they would identify themselves now.

"I am afraid, Monsieur Reiner, that we also bear bad news. Based on what we were told by our masked friend, our managers were correct. The only reason we are alive is because the Shah still wishes to see our performance of Hannibal." Madame Giry continued.

"Why?" Ignaco gasped.

"He enjoys the arts, though I am sure there are other plots afoot. We will perform when we arrive."

"And once we are done?" Ignacio asked, holding onto his wife a little tighter as if to protect her from the inevitable.

"We don't know. But if we do not do well, we will die."

Reiner scoffed. "We are in no position to perform! Louis, Piangi, and Gabriel can barely speak let alone sing. They burned down our props and costumes and you have all been crammed in a cage."

"If we do not please him, we will die." Madame Giry restated. "Don't you understand Reiner? We have no choice. We have to do the best we can with what we have." The cage was silent. Christine couldn't stand it. The betrayal, the fear, the pressure, the confusion. She buried her head in her knees and hugged them tightly. She tried to imagine a tune in her head, but she could not drown out the conversation around her.

"However, he told Christine we would have time to practice today."

"He took you away last night. Dare I ask why?" Ignacio asked.

Christine lifted her head so just her eyes peaked over her knees. She responded dolefully. "He wanted me to sing. He wants me to play the role of Elissa instead of Carlotta." She ignored the furious glare from the former diva.

"I thought I heard your voice last night. It has been too long." Reiner said warmly. "If this is the case, you have much to learn. We must be nearing the capital by now, so we do not have much time."

"Reiner, you cannot be serious. There is no way we can pull this off. I don't even have my violin. It was destroyed along with everything else in the ambush! Our costumes, props, music, everything!"

"We don't have much of a choice. Christine, my dear, come sit over here by Carlotta and I. We will have to go over your lines."

Carlotta scoffed. "This is outrageous!"

The diva had finally snapped. She pulled herself to her feet, her fat finger pointing at the shocked ballerina as she towered above her. "This little girl will be the death of us all! She has no talent, no skill to perform this role. She will be the reason the Shah does not approve! She will be the reason we die!"

It was silent. Everyone stared at the prima donna in shock. Meg opened her mouth to defend her friend, but Christine waved her hand to silence her. "Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I to risk our lives to win the chance to live? Do I have any choice?"

There is always a choice. One of the greatest lies we can believe is that we have lost all control.

As much as it pained her to admit it, the Angel of Death was correct. She did have a choice and she chose to act. She acted yesterday to save her friends from starvation and another day of hell, and it worked. It was a sign for her to continue pushing, to continue to be brave. For too long, Christine had been quiet and passive. Ever since her father died, she had spent her days engulfed in her own self pity, afraid of every shadow and every noise. Her voice, the one thing that connected her to her father and angel, was locked away. She had been so afraid of that connection, of those emotions, but now she understood. She had to sing. It was the only way she could save those she loved. She had to turn a blind eye to her fear and be the brave woman everyone needed her to be. She chose to be brave.

Can you be brave for me, Christine?

For the first time in a year, Christine knew that she could be.

"You think I want this?" Christine seethed, pulling herself to her feet. "You think I planned this? I promised myself I would never sing again. I sang my father to sleep when he died and I promised I would never feel again. It hurts to breathe without him. It hurts to hear a melody that reminds me of him. Every note that leaves my mouth is like a dagger in my back. I promised that I would only sing for my angel, for my father, but now they are gone. To sing for this monstrous king would break that promise. It will kill me. But I have to be brave! I choose to be brave!"

Christine gripped onto the bars above her, motivated by the anger burning in her soul. "A part of me would gladly step aside and let you take the lead, but is that what you truly want? If you fail, we all die. If he dislikes it for any reason, we perish. Fifteen souls in your hands, Carlotta. Do you want that responsibility? I know I do not. But if that man, a confidant of our executioner, believes we will have a better chance of surviving if I sing, then who am I to question it? Who are you to?"

Before Carlotta could respond, Christine raised her voice. "I need you! I need your guidance and your support. Carlotta, I don't want this, but I choose to take it because I am tired of watching those I love leave me. As much as it will hurt, I want to fight. But without you, I'll be ill-prepared."

"You will always be ill-prepared." Carlotta snapped, her voice timid but resentful.

"Then what should we do? Hm? If you want that responsibility, take it! This decision resides with you. What will you choose? Shall it be you or I that holds the responsibility of saving everyone here? Shall it be you or I that burns in hell if we fail?"

Everyone stared at Carlotta, who now stood wide eyed. Christine had never retaliated against her, despite the years of teasing and animosity. But now confronted with a bold young woman, Carlotta didn't know how to respond. She looked at the poor people around her, all starved and terrified. She looked into their anxious souls and saw the desperation. Christine's glare did not falter, even when the diva's lower lip began to tremble.

"That responsibility will rest with you." Carlotta mumbled defeatedly.

Christine sighed. A part of her had hoped Carlotta would have taken it and stood up against the Angel of Death. She felt guilty for it, but she wanted Carlotta to take the lead. But she understood. It was her duty to step forward, a duty she chose to take head on.

Meg stood next to her, wrapping her hand around Christine's. "You won't have to do it alone. We will all fight. Together, we will make it through. This doesn't just rest on you, Christine. We have to do this as a team; as a family. We will survive."

Christine smiled. How great it was to have good people in her life. The group seemed to be more energized, all nodding in agreement and mumbling their support. Meg leaned in and whispered in her friend's ear.

"If I had known you needed to be kidnapped in Persia to return to your old self, I would have shipped you out long ago." She giggled. She squeezed her friend's hand. "It is good to see you again, Christine Daaé."

Despite all the horrors and betrayals she had been put through, Christine felt herself giggle. As terrified as she was, it did feel good to be back in control of her life. Her one hope had been that on this journey, she would find herself again. She needed to move on, to become the woman her angel and her father wanted her to be. Now she finally felt like her journey had passed the highest obstacle and began its track down to prosperity.

Christine sat next to the diva, who did not look at her while they went through the different scenes. Matilda attended to Meg's aching ankle while Jammes and Sorelli stood and stretched the best they could in the cramped cage. Madame Giry gave occasional critiques as she adjusted the protective cloth tarps around the cage. Ignacio and Sophia whispered to each other, holding each other tightly against the back cage. At some point she began to play her flute, a calming tune that helped everyone forget their dilemma. Although they had little room, the crew was quick to work. They all came to the same conclusion: together, they chose to survive.

Ooph...that was a long one. But a lot has been revealed and our Christine is finally beginning to grow. Thank you so much for the reviews!

YinuoTong: These chapters are dark, and unfortunately, it is going to get darker before the light and sweet stuff get here. Though, the next chapter is much lighter. Thank you for helping me correct that quote! I literally read your review and sprinted for the computer haha. It should be fixed now. Also, that was definitely cheesy but I loved it haha. Thanks for the reviews!

Chaotic: Thank you so much! I am glad I still have you hooked. Erik is definitely spooked by Christine and I love writing those scenes (insert maniacal giggle). Thank you for your reviews!

Lucyole: (Love the desserts by the way) Christine is getting stronger and I am glad you are seeing that :) I like the subtle hints but sometimes I worry too much that those are just in my head and not conveyed when I write. Thanks!

Phantomgirl24: I am so glad you enjoy this story. That is always really nice to hear. Erik is definitely struggling to see his childhood friend is no longer the same little girl she used to be. It just makes everything so awkward and I love it so much haha. Thank you!

Bonpetitepoodles: Yes. Angel of Death can be a bit of a mouthful...and it just sounds ominous. However, Erik isn't quite ready to tell her his name just yet so maestro is a shorter name. It is commonly used for renowned musicians and teachers :). Hope that helps! Thank you!