Chapter Thirty-One: Who Is The Monster And Who Is The Man?

Christine urged Étoile on, her heels digging into the mare's sides.
She knew that the horse was fading, but she needed to get back to Brocéliande.
Her father was in danger.

At first, the woods were strange to her and all she could do was hope that Étoile remembered where she was going.
But soon she began to recognize familiar landmarks.
A patch of blueberries here, a small pond there.

As the moon rose higher in the sky, she finally burst out of the woods and into the clearing at the edge of the village.
She made sure that the magic mirror was still safely in her lap.

Then, hearing a commotion near the square, the redhead steered Étoile in that direction.
To her surprise, a crowd had gathered around a horse-drawn wagon, which looked like a small metal prison with its steel frame and tiny barred window.
She spotted Raoul standing nearby, looking smug, as always.
She continued to scan the scene, and then her breath caught in her throat.
Gustave was slumped over, barely conscious, inside the wagon's cage.

As Christine watched, Father Mansart ran up to the man locking Gustave inside - Monsieur Javert D'Arque, the head of the town asylum.
"This man is hurt!" Father Mansart pleaded desperately.
"Please, he needs a hospital, not an asylum!"
Ignoring him, Monsieur D'Arque finished his task and headed up to the driver's perch.
Raoul walked over and leaned against the wagon, seeming to whisper something to Gustave.

Christine had seen enough.
That wagon wasn't going anywhere.
Kicking Étoile forward, she made her way into the middle of the crowd.
"Stop!" she cried.

Her voice cut through the crowd, silencing everyone instantly.
The people turned in her direction, eyes wide in stunned disbelief.
The layers of her ballgown flowed out around her like yellow rose petals, the golden glitter catching the moonlight and making the dress sparkle magically.

She could already hear the whispers of the villagers beginning like a slow wave.
Some wondered where she had come from.
Others wondered whether it was really her.
And still others muttered about "that dress" with envy and desire.

Ignoring them, Christine dismounted.
She kept her head high, her eyes seeking support in the crowd of villagers.
She didn't find much.

Most of the villagers were eyeing her with open distrust now that the initial shock had worn off.
Still, there were a few friendly faces.
Father Mansart was standing close by, his expression bewildered and a bit defeated.
And Armand the cobbler was there, too, though he looked puzzled and helpless, as usual.

Pushing down the slew of unkind words she wanted to hurl at the villagers, Christine stepped in front of the wagon.
"Stop this right now!" she ordered, causing the horses to startle.
She ran to the back of the wagon and peered through the locked door.
Her father lay on the floor, clutching his side in pain.
"Open this door! He's hurt!"

Monsieur D'Arque climbed down from his perch.
As he walked toward her, Christine couldn't help but flinch.
There was something dark and sinister in his eyes, and his pale, waxy complexion reminded her of the monsters in some of her stories.
"I'm afraid we can't do that, mademoiselle," he replied.
"But we'll take good care of him."
While his words were meant to sound reassuring, they came across as a threat.

"My father is not crazy!" the redhead shrieked indignantly.
She turned and looked around the crowd, hoping for help.
No one stepped forward.
Finally, she turned to the one man whom she thought might advocate in her favor.
"Raoul, please...tell him!" she begged desperately.

Raoul stepped out of the shadows where he had been waiting quietly.
He had been worried that Christine had witnessed his part in Gustave's incarceration.
He knew that if she had, any chance he had of marrying her would truly be gone.
But luck, as usual, was with him.
She seemed completely unaware.

Puffing out his chest, he put on his most sympathetic expression and walked up to her.
"Christine, you know how loyal I am to your family," he said, laying on the sincerity, "but your father's been making some unbelievable claims.
"It's true," Monsieur Armand confirmed. "He's been raving about a monster in an enchanted castle full of talking objects."

Christine looked back and forth between the two men.
That was why her father was being hauled off to an asylum?
She nearly laughed out loud in relief.
"But I've just come from the castle!" she burst out in a rush.
"He's telling the truth!"

Reaching out, Raoul put a hand on her shoulder.
Then he gave her a condescending smile.
Ever the showman, he spoke as much to the crowd as to her.
"We all admire your devotion to your father," he said, "but your word is hardly proof."

Panic gripped Christine's heart.
She needed something to show them that she wasn't making it up.
But what?

In the pocket of her dress, her hand closed around the mirror and her eyes narrowed with determination.
"You want proof?" she asked.
She pulled out the mirror and held it up to face the villagers.
"Show me Erik!"

Once again, the mirror's face swirled magically.
The reflection of the village faded away and was replaced with an image of a death's head with demonic yellow eyes that blazed with hellfire.
"There's your proof!" the redhead snarled furiously.
Raoul's face grew pale with shock.

"Well, it's hard to argue with that..." Monsieur Armand muttered, turning to look at Raoul.
"This is sorcery!" Raoul shouted, snatching the mirror from Christine's hand.
He held it up for all the villagers to see.
"Look at this demon! Look at his face! His eyes!"
The villagers craned their necks, hoping to get a better look, then screamed in terror when they caught sight of Erik.

Watching their reactions, Christine bit her lip nervously.
She hadn't thought things through when she'd pulled out the mirror.
She had been so desperate to save her father that it hadn't occurred to her what actually seeing Erik would do to the other villagers.
She hadn't thought that they would see only the monster and not the man inside.

"No!" she cried out trying to fix the situation.
"Please, I know he looks dangerous, but he's really kind and gentle..."
The redhead smiled wistfully.
"He's my friend..."

"The monster has her under his spell!" Raoul called out, shooting Christine a deadly glare.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say she even cared for this monster!"
Christine felt his words like a slap across the face.
After all he had done, he dared call Erik a monster?
"Erik would never harm anyone!" she insisted, turning and pleading with the villagers.
They looked back at her, their expressions wary, and the unease in the pit of her stomach grew.
She should have known better.
The villagers adored the Vicomte.
He was their savior, their main source of food and shelter during the poor harvests and harsh winters.
He was their one small claim to fame.
And Christine?
She was just an odd girl who liked to read.

As Raoul continued to rile the villagers into a frenzy against Erik, Christine backed away.
She had lost all hope of turning the tide in her favor.
Catching sight of her, Raoul shouted to three of his henchmen.
"We can't have her running off to warn the monster!" he called out.
"Lock her up!"

Before she could turn and run, one of the men grabbed Christine roughly by the arm.
The redhead kicked and shouted, but it was no use.
As Raoul called for his horse, she was dragged and tossed into the wagon cell where her father was being held captive.
Monsieur D'Arque moved to stand guard.

Throwing his leg over his tall white stallion, Raoul turned once more to the villagers.
Shouts of approval rang out as he lifted his hand to the night sky.
"That creature will curse us all if we don't stop him!" he roared, riling the villagers up even further.
"So I say we kill the freak!"

The village erupted in bloodthirsty cries as Christine watched in horror from behind the iron bars.
Raoul was in his element.
Erik wasn't just a scary monster to him, he was a rival for Christine's affections and therefore, had to be eliminated.
As he led the mob from the village, he stoked their fears until they were burning as bright and as hot as the torches that some of the men carried.
He painted a picture of a hell-spawned demon that lived in the shadows and prowled the village and surrounding forest at sundown on the full moon, thirsting for blood.
An living nightmare that needed to be destroyed immediately.

By the time the mob had disappeared into the woods, they were carrying weapons of all shapes and sizes.
Some held shovels, others seized pitchforks.
A few found axes and hefted them over their shoulders.
And all of them - armed or not - looked ready to follow Raoul in his mad quest to kill Erik.

Unable to do anything else, Christine stood still, her hands clutching the iron bars.
Erik, Madame Giry, André...everyone she had grown to love...they were all in serious danger!
And it was all her fault...

A/N: Please review to unlock Chapter Thirty-Two...