Chapter Thirty-Three: Escape
"I have to warn Erik!" Christine cried out fearfully, looking around frantically.
Her hands were clenched by her sides, and her eyes were wild as she desperately searched the small space for any means of escape.
There wasn't one.
The window was too small - and covered by bars - and the wagon had been locked from the outside.
"Warn him?" Gustave sputtered in confusion.
He sat slumped in a corner.
He looked even worse than he had when he'd been a prisoner in the castle dungeons.
His clothes were disheveled and his hair was sticking up in every direction.
He had scrapes on his palms from falling on them, and exhaustion hung heavy on his shoulders.
"How did you escape?" he wondered.
The last he'd known, his daughter was being held prisoner by the very creature who she now sought so desperately to protect.
Christine stopped pacing.
She turned to her father and took his hands in hers.
"I didn't escape, Papa, he let me go."
"I don't understand," Gustave sighed in frustration.
"I know, Papa, but please, just trust me!" the redhead pleaded urgently.
"Will you help me?"
Gustave gave his daughter a long, assessing look.
She didn't seem mad...
And she always had been the forgiving sort...when the person deserved it!
"But...it's dangerous!" he protested weakly.
"Yes, it is!" Christine said bravely.
She waited for him to argue, but he just sighed and shook his head.
Then he clapped his hands.
"Well, then!" he said as he looked around the tiny wagon cell,
"It looks like we need to find a way out of here so you can go save...whatever his name is!"
Christine laughed.
"Erik, Papa! His name is Erik!"
Then her smile faded.
"But I've already checked. There's no way out!"
Gustave just smiled.
If there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was that there was always a way out.
You just had to know how to find it.
He peered through the small window at the lock on the wagon door.
Its makeup didn't look all that terribly different from some of his music boxes.
"I think I might be able to pick the lock!" he whispered excitedly.
"If only I had something sharp..." his voice trailed off as he suddenly caught sight of the hairpin that Christine was holding up in front of him.
They shared a conspiratorial grin.
Then he got to work picking the lock.
When it finally clicked free, they slowly pushed the wagon door open.
"What are you waiting for?" Gustave whispered to his daughter.
"Go!"
Giving him a grateful smile, Christine took off across the village square, not stopping to see if Monsieur D'Arque had spotted her.
She made it to Étoile and jumped on the mare's back.
Giving the horse a good, strong kick, she pulled on the reins and steered them out of the village.
Behind her, she could hear Monsieur D'Arque's furious shouts and her father's happy cheers.
Leaning forward, the redhead urged Étoile on.
They didn't have time to celebrate this minor victory.
They needed to get back to the castle.
As they galloped through the thickening trees, Christine could only hope that they would make it in time.
She didn't want to imagine what Raoul and his bloodthirsty mob might do when they came face to face with a foe unlike anything they had ever seen before.
Then her thoughts turned to Madame Giry, André, Firmin, and little Elisabeth.
They would be defenseless against the mob.
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