Chapter 6

Guilt. Shame. Fear. These emotions are a deadly swirling whirlpool, sloshing around within my fragile soul. I know that I can't keep living like this. But I don't know what else to do. I am too afraid of Judge Frollo to defy him, I'm too attached to my dear new friends to abandon them. I'm stuck in a deep rut of cowardice.

I drape my shawl around my shoulders and descend down the winding staircase, back to the familiar comforts of Notre Dame. I start back to my regular pew, but then turn and gaze longingly out a window. The early night sky is royal blue silk dotted with tiny sparkling diamonds. It's far too beautiful to pass by. I shuffle outside of the cathedral and sit on the top step, watching the stars.

"It's perfect, isn't it?" comes a voice from behind me. I whirl around to face Gage, perched upon a step.

"What are you doing here? I thought you went back to your camp already."

"Oh, I've just been wandering around, like gypsies do." With a single fluid motion, he hops off of his step and lands a few paces before me. "Something in the night air led me straight back to Notre Dame." The gypsy boy cocks his head and flashes an endearing grin that reminds me of Clopin. "Come with me, come see Paris under the light of the moon!"

I can already feel my heart succumbing to the spell of this wild eyed creature. I back away slowly. "I...I can't, I really should be getting to bed and..." He puts a finger to my lips and winks." Shh." he hushes. "Save that for later." I sigh and put my doubts behind me, for tonight we are young and free. We shouldn't waste a second of it.

He takes my hand and we're off, running down the streets of Paris like a pack of hungry wolves. My heart is racing, with fear, with excitement, and with a crazy little thing that I'm beginning to realize is love. We fly past the closed up shops, the cramped alleys, the glimmers of moonlight dancing upon the Seine River. No sense of direction, only pure, sweet freedom from the puppet strings of daily life.

"Where are we going?" I ask between breaths.

"To the underground, the Court of Miracles. The true home of the gypsies."

I gasp. The Court of Miracles, the rumored place that has never seen the light of day. The safe haven of the gypsies. The very place I must reveal to Judge Frollo, if I could ever live with myself afterwards. I'm so excited and scared that I don't know what to do.

Gage slows down and stops before a lonely graveyard. Hand in hand, we creep between the headstones and towards a large mausoleum with a strange, otherworldly glow. Gage slides the lid off of part of the tomb, revealing a set of stairs. He turns to me. "It's down here, in the catacombs." Esmeralda's riddle makes perfect sense now. The catacombs most certainly are a crowded part of the city, but the dead will never give the gypsies away.

We slip down the stairs and into the catacombs. It's dark and murky down here, and the hoards of skeletons send shivers down my spine. I cling to Gage's arm as he guides me down through the tunnels.

"Who goes there?" barks a gruff voice.

Gage speaks up. "It's just me, Gage."

"Who's that with you?"

"Ketty, a peasant girl."

"You know the rules Gage, no outsiders."

"Don't worry, she's a friend." says Gage. Once again, guilt begins to eat away at my skin. 'No I'm not...' I think to myself.

A burly gypsy man leaps out in front of us. "I don't care if she's a friend or not, she's not coming in here." he snaps.

Gage elbows his way beyond the larger man, pulling me along behind him. "We'll be quick!" he shouts over his shoulder. We rush out of the depths of the catacombs and into a brightly lit room, filled to the brim with a rainbow of clothing, loot, and treasures. Gypsies rush to and fro, practicing their tricks and talking amongst themselves. They smile upon seeing Gage, but give me the eye of suspicion. As soon as they notice that we're holding hands, they start whispering and pointing. I know that I'm not welcome here. I'm not one of them and never will be. Esmeralda and Grandmama, one of the few gypsies who seem to tolerate me, are not among the crowd. I ask Gage where they are, and Gage says that Grandmama was probably having one of her dizzy spells.

Clopin emerges from the sea of people and skips over to us. He gives Gage a playful slap on the back. "Looks like you've found yourself a lady friend." he comments. His voice suddenly turns serious. "But it was very foolish of you to bring her here."

Gage stiffens his upper lip. "Ketty is a friend to us, Clopin."

I step in. "I promise you I won't tell a soul about your hideaway." There may be at least some truth in that, as I don't think I could ever tell Frollo at this point. Still, the word 'liar' rings in my head.

The king of gypsies sighs and dramatically rolls his eyes. "Well, alright. But I'd still prefer for you to leave, for our safety and your own. Besides," he elbows Gage, "I'm sure you two would like to go somewhere a little more private."

We both blush and Gage thanks Clopin for his trouble. Off we go, back through the damp catacombs and up into the bright moonlight, as dazzling as when we last saw it. Hand in hand, we stroll over to the graveyard fence and hop up onto it. We sit together in silence for a few moments, watching the endless night sky.

"Ketty, what do you dream about?"

The question catches me by surprise. What do I dream about?

"Umm...why don't you go first.", I say, trying my best to avoid the question.

Gage tilts his head back and closes his eyes. "Mostly I dream of the places I've been, the people I've seen in my travels. I dream of the country, of dirt roads and wildflowers, of sun ripened grapes and tiny red brick cottages. I dream of cities, filled to the brim with vibrant people and endless possibilities. I dream of the deep, unstoppable river and the clear blue sky. I dream of all the pains and comforts of the past and I dream of the uncertain future." He opens his eyes and smiles. "Ok, now it's your turn." Great.

I look down and wring my skirt in my hands. "I've never been anywhere but the slums and sewers of Paris. I have no real family or even a place to live. I keep hoping and praying that things will change, but my prayers must not be good enough. Nothing I ever do is right." I pause for a moment and sigh. "The one thing I dream of turning into a bird and flying away from Paris, from poverty, from the lies I've been living." I feel a wetness beginning at the corners of my eyes. I think I've said too much. "I'm sorry..." I begin.

Gage gives my trembling hand a little squeeze. "Don't be." With a gentle hand, he wipes the tear that is running down my cheek. He studies my face for a moment, then says. "I can take you away from here. In just a few months, my people and I will be heading back out onto the winding gypsy trail, and I would love to have you by my side. I don't think I could bear to leave you, for in all my travels I've never met a more beautiful soul than you. Grandmama has always said, once in a lifetime you meet someone and then know that you were made to be together. What I'm trying to say is..." He leans in close and his lips touch mine.

The kiss. His touch is forceful yet tender, fiery yet as cool as the midnight wind. Instinctively I wrap my arms around him and he does the same to me. All of the passion that we've been suppressing is set free. My heart is skipping like a stone on the water, and quivering chills run all along my skin and through my bones. The only thing between us is a breath of air. Wrapped in his warm embrace, I feel safe from any and all harm.

He slowly draws away and looks at me with burning eyes that hold a strange and untamed hunger, yet an innocence that I cannot ignore. His lips form the words that I've waited for and feared and wanted more than anything. "I love you."

Love. That elusive word, one that I've been chasing my whole life. The thing that I've never believed in but always hoped for. Now it's staring me dead in the face, and it's wonderful, everything that I've ever dreamed it would be.

I lay my head against Gage's chest and listen to the steady, unwavering beat of his heart. "I love you too."

We sit there, quietly holding each other, until the golden sunrise peaks over the rooftops of Paris.