Um…I…

You….

I…

Enjoy this.


Have you ever had four kinds of meat on your plate at once? I have. And it's harder to pick which three to try first when six different condiments or spices are circling the picnic-like tables at one. Wooden bowls filled with multicolored garnishes were handed around amongst wooden utensils stabbing at food. The kids weren't even required to eat with the utensils—Dooriya ate the brisket with her hands, and Tem was too young for the tough meat. Chal was the only one who attempted to use his fork until he grew bored of the effort and shoveled it in, too. Everyone shared the platters—there wasn't anyone hoarding: the kids who tried had their hands swatted by parents. There wasn't any reluctance when someone asked someone else to pass a plate. It was…refreshing.

"So," a woman locked gazes with me after a few minutes. I lowered my fork. Oh boy. "You're from outside Paris, huh?" The woman's tone wasn't accusatory, but there was a slight edge to it.

"…Uh, yeah. I'm…new in town." I'll put it that way.

"What brings you here?" Another man asked.

"Well…not Frollo," I smirked. "I just…it was really weird. I didn't come here by choice." Don't give too much away. Despite my hunger, the sight of their stares made my stomach cramp a little. "It was a rushed thing, with Giselle and I. She's like my sister. We were kinda rushed out here without prior warning." There. They'd understand having to be on the move all the time.

The man still looked a little skeptical. Chal's father was also watching me intently, but seemed to realize I was done speaking and went back to his plate.

"How do we know you aren't a spy?" Another voice suddenly spoke up, from a little further down the table. My hands felt cold as I turned to face him. I was aware of any pretense of a polite smile dropping from my face. Everybody else looked at him, too. "A Palace guard's daughter or something, playing prisoner?"

"I'm not a palace guard's daughter." The words came out breathily. "I would…never…"

"People." Clopin was frowning slightly. "She saved Clara and Romulus—have we forgotten that?"

Chal's father spoke. "It could have been staged."

Clopin gave him a mild glare. "Yes, those things typically are staged for no apparent reason. Come on. Let's not take after Marius and company." His face suddenly brightened. "Who wants to hear the story of how we single-handedly…" He glanced at me. "Well, I guess more like double-handedly—sent Marius back to the Palace as turned around as that guy on stilts at the festival?"

Expressions lifted at this. Several of the children cried, "Me, me!" I exhaled through my nose, grateful for both the distraction and the noise that allowed me to sigh without being heard. Thanks, Clopin. Aaagain.

As the gypsy king told the story, the children's eyes lit with delight, and a couple of the grownups chuckled when he reached the part about the guards getting shown up by Esmeralda.

Other stories of Marius' actions circulated—one man had been caught trying to steal some food and had been thrown in the Palace for two weeks without any. Another woman had had her children taken away from her for some reason I didn't understand. While Marius was only doing his duty, I purposed not to say anything around the table that could get me any more despised. Being preachy wouldn't help my steadying reception.

By the end of the meal, my stomach felt like splitting; but every bite had been so flavorful I wouldn't have eaten any less if I had to do it again. Everyone dispersed when it was over, and Chal offered to show me the tent where he and his family stayed. It was still early, but a lot had happened that day, so I figured I'd take a moment to rest before heading back out for any nighttime activity. Maybe Clopin or someone else could show me around the common areas of the Court, where Chal said nighttime activities happened. I wasn't so sure about how I'd like that, but figured I would go and see. It might be better than being antisocial in a tent all night.


When in Paris, take a detour to appreciate the sights…especially when being held under house…church arrest by the most dangerous man in the city. Then is the perfect time to do some sightseeing.

Or, Giselle thought, for her, some double sight-seeing, as she'd already experienced the bells Esmeralda was standing underneath at this moment. "Hello!" She shouted. The sound reverberated throughout the bell.

"She likes you," Quasimodo said. "Would you like to see more?"

Giselle wandered around, growing bored with the two visitors, as Esme's goat belched under Big Marie. Quasi took his new almost-girlfriend (Giselle figured they'd end up together) out onto the rooftop to look at the sunset. She decided to follow them in a few minutes. Instead, she proceeded to the balcony where Quasi had talked to the gargoyles on that first morning. The view was almost the same, just of a different part of Paris. She could see the Palace of Justice. Knots worked their way into her stomach. Is Hannah in there? Did I fail to save her? Giselle wondered.

Slowly, in the midst of her worried thoughts, the sun set over the Parisian skyline. Giselle rested her chin on her hand and gazed over the city. Forget the shopping now; forget the festivals and the singing…she had to get her friend back.

Maybe the uglies could help. She looked around for the gargoyles, then realized they were probably with Quasi and Esme. Climbing the steps, she emerged into a gently starlit scene. Quasi and Esme seemed to be having an in depth conversation, and were positioned closely together on the rooftop. Well, she couldn't say she hadn't seen that coming.

"You helped me," Quasi told her as Giselle drew closer. "Now I will help you." He took her hands. Giselle's heart leapt. Could he…?!

"But," Esme protested, "there's no way out. There's soldiers at every door."

Quasi's expression was downright sly. "We won't use a door." With that, he lifted himself on top of the railing.

"You mean…climb down?"

"Sure."

Waaaait a minute. Giselle glanced over the side. That's a drop as far as the Empire State.

"You carry him," Quasi said, motioning to Djali, "I carry you. I'll come back for you, Giselle," he promised.

Esmeralda didn't even have to think about it for very long. Giselle almost wished he had taken her first, so she wouldn't have to think about it. "Okay," the gypsy girl said, motioning to her goat. "Come on, Djali."

"You two be careful," Giselle told them. She couldn't help wringing her hands together. This could go so wrongly. So, so wrongly.

"We will be," Quasi gave her a reassuring smile. Then, turning to Esme, "Ready?"

"Yes."

He picked her up bridal style and said, "Don't be afraid." Under different circumstances, Giselle would have totally fangirled; but for now, all she could do was note how cute that was, walk to the railing, and grip it tightly.

"I'm not afraid," Esme said simply.

The night skyline seemed quiet below…Giselle couldn't be sure nothing was going on…the guards…

In one swift motion, Quasi launched all three of them over the side! Giselle held back a scream as he dangled by one hand by one of those gargoyle-esque things.

"Now I'm afraid," she heard the other girl's voice echo. Quiet! She thought.

"I'll be back, Giselle," Quasi promised one more time. "The trick is," he told Esme, "not to look down."

The last thing Giselle heard from them was the frightened bleating of the goat…and then they were gone, their voices fading into the night, becoming warbled murmurs and then…nothing. Not even the sound of Quasi moving about the towers could be heard…

Giselle stayed atop the tower for what felt like half an hour before anything happened. The knots in her stomach grew worse. What if Hannah was being tortured right now? What if she was having to brave the dangers of the gypsy camp all by herself? A funny image of Hannah actually sampling all different types of jewelry in the gypsy camp ran through her mind; but she was sure that wasn't what was happening.

Come on, Quasi…how long does it take to drop your girlfriend off at the-?

He emerged from the passageway looking slightly put off. "What's wrong?" She asked.

Quasi shook his head. "Nothing…it's nothing. The streets down there are crawling with guards now. Our descent might have alerted them. Esmeralda's waiting for you at the bottom. Are you ready to go?"

Giselle's stomach, which was already in knots, flipped at the sight of the drop. "Um…"

"I promise, I won't let you fall." He held out a hand, and a reassuring smile crossed his face.

"It's not that I don't trust you…" She trailed off. Maybe it was.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

All right…here's where the trust comes in, I guess. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Just do it."

"Okay…here we go."

Okay… the world shifted for Giselle, the floor turning into a drop hundreds of feet high. For once, a school concept slammed to the front of her brain—the speed of an object free-falling, and how much it increased by per second.

Swinging crazily, wildly, Giselle instinctively gripped Quasi's neck in a vice that left him choking. "Giselle…too tight."

"Sorry," she managed, not letting go one bit.

"This," Quasi coughed, "is gonna be a long trip."


I was walking back to Chal's tent as I was going to be staying with them, when I started to hear the voices. At first, it was just the murmur of the court that I heard—men laughing far off, women passing me in twos and threes, talking amongst each other, their faces garbed in blues, purples, and reds adorned with gold…children running about, raising their voices slightly…I thought how different this was from the demeanor up above, in the cathedrals…

But then, words started standing out to me—a pair of two gypsy men standing by a stand, looking at me. Muttering. I involuntarily raised an eyebrow, continuing to walk past them. About two hundred meters down, I made a casual left turn and then another one a few seconds later. In a short while, I had doubled back behind the stand—one with a purple canvas overhead. I saw half the back of one of the men and crept slowly closer to the wooden structure.

"—could get repute from the guards as well."

"…don't think Clopin would like it."

"Yeah, but your son is trying to go to school, isn't he?"

A pause; a telling quiet, and a murmured response.

"Well, I'd wager this would get him the necessary funds."

My blood ran cold. I realized what they planned to do just as they turned into the alleyway where I was standing.

We locked eyes. Gazes.

One of them had a beard.

They squinted, and then their expressions morphed into ones of anger.

"Were you spying on us?!" one asked.

"Uh…"

I turned and ran.

Colorful tents passed by as I pumped my legs. People were few over here, but…I could hear their footsteps behind me. I willed my legs to moe faster.

Are they going to catch me?

Are they going to tell Clopin?

Guilt stabbed through me as I ran. I'd betrayed their trust…

The tents ended and empty, brick walled caverns began. Still, I could hear shouting and splashing footsteps behind me.

It was a good thing they'd caught me near the edge of the court, so not many had seen me running from them and become suspicious. Then, I realized they could kill me and no one would know…I mentally kicked myself.

Through tunnels, through the dim halos of torchlight, splashing putrid water into my shoes and the hem of my dress…I flew, hoping there weren't obstacles hidden in the dark.

Echoes followed me down the dark, nightmare-esque passageways. No Clopin here—just me and these men. I turned right and came to a dimly-lit dead end.

Crap! I stumbled through the circular chamber, into the only shadowed place the overhead vent allowed: in the extreme end of the passage. Trying to control my breathing, I stood stock still as the men rushed past my dead end, looked down it, and paused.

I swore I could see them making eye contact.

Then, they turned their feet, continued on, and I was alone.

The moon shone down through the vent above me. I waited, knowing I should go, to beat them back, but feeling petrified.

Would Clopin banish me? Would they report back to him? But then they'd have to tell him what I'd been spying on that was so important as to report…right? Hopefully, they would be deterred by that, not wanting to be found out, and…

It occurred to me that the guards outside the court would bring me to the Palace of Justice…I had to stay here. And chances were, with the lack of witnesses, I could slip back in without a hitch, unless they went to Clopin.

The walk back to the court (or, the jog, more accurately), was tense and too quiet. I snuck back in between the tents, willing my dress to dry. Almost no one was out at this time, in this area…no one stopped me.

Back at Chal's tent, I released a breath, looked around, and ducked inside. The mother was bouncing Tem by the bed, Chal was on one of the floor mats, complaining about his head, and Dooriya was singing. The father was nowhere—probably conversing outside somewhere.

The mother offered me an acknowledging nod, and I thought she must have been too busy to notice my clothing and shoes. I lay down on the mat next to Chal, offered him a brief hello, and told him I hoped he felt better soon. The tent was boisterous enough for a good half hour; but it was more like a family than nothing.

I worried I'd wake to trouble. I worried Giselle wasn't safe. I prayed, and eventually, fell asleep with the taste of spice and starchy noodles behind my teeth, thoughts winding through my brain.


I'm actually sorry and not sorry at the same time. I'm sorry you guys had to wait so long for this, but I'm not sorry more important life matters got in the way. I'll make more of an effort to finish this story now, as I want to do it for you guys who have been so faithful and have waited all this time, and also so I can check off another project on my long list of things to do. Reviews are appreciated but not necessary! I love you guys!