I'm so sorry! I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN YOU! Aaaaaah, I feel so bad! HOW long has it been? Probably nothing compared to my biggest gaps, but still. I was doing so good for a while. :(

Anyway. Here you go! Ta duuum!

Disclaimer: Yeah. You get it by now, surely.


Chapter Nine

When they were all pulled out into the barred carriages the next day, the sun was shining brightly, mocking their fate. To her relief, Trinity was put in with Clopin. She held his hand tightly as they all rolled slowly towards the pedestals that had been set up, but they weren't pedestals as much as they were pyres, stakes in a row all pointing towards the sky with piles of wood at their bases.

"There has to be a way out of this," Esmeralda whispered. It was strange to see the beautiful gypsy in a simple white shift with a rope belt, as opposed to her usually bright clothing. "There has to be."

"I don't think there is," Trinity said with a heavy heart. "He's taken every step to make sure nothing can interfere."

"There's always a way," Esmeralda said. "You just have to find it."

Trinity looked up as they passed the bell tower, and she gasped. Esmeralda and Clopin turned, and Esmeralda's shoulders stiffened in anger. Against the columns in the tower they could see the shape of Quasimodo, his limbs and torso looped with thick chains that were anchored to the stone.

"That bastard," Esmeralda whispered angrily.

"Phoebus," Clopin said suddenly. "What about Phoebus?"

Trinity's eyes brightened. She searched the crowd and spotted his golden armor shining in the sun where he sat on his horse, patrolling the crowd. He was watching the carriages with a seemingly blank expression, but in his eyes she could see barely-contained concern. Trinity crooked a finger at him, and he glanced at Frollo's carriage, which was at the beginning of the procession. He moved towards them, walking Achilles beside the carriage as though he was guarding them.

"Don't worry," he murmured, his brown eyes still on the crowd. "I'll figure something out. We've still got time. I don't know if you've noticed, but he likes to make an impressive, windy speech about the criminals' sins before he burns them." He winked at them and returned to his post in the crowd.

Trinity kissed Clopin's cheek, breathing in his scent of spices and wondering if it was the last time she was to ever smell it. He turned to her, his usually merry eyes serious and worried. "Will you be alright?" he asked.

"I hope so," she said softly. "I will if Phoebus finds something to do. If not…" She bit her lip. He lifted his bound hands and touched her cheek tenderly. "If not, I know that you'll figure something out," he said.

Subtle movement drew Trinity's attention. She glanced to Esmeralda, who was pressing something into a young girl's palm. The girl looked up at her with frightened brown eyes, and the elder woman whispered something to her. The girl's face grew more calm and slightly thankful, and she nodded.

The carriage stopped. They looked up to see the pyres lined up before them, ominous fingers pointing to the bright blue sky. Frollo was mounting the stairs, and it seemed like only a second later he was standing in the centre and waiting for the crowd to quiet, his eyes alight.

He began his speech, but Trinity wasn't listening. She was looking for Phoebus. He was talking in a low voice to one of the gypsy men in one of the other carriages, hidden from Frollo's view by the others in the carriage. She frowned slightly, trying to read his lips with no success. She saw him look up to the bell tower and then back to the gypsy, and wondered what he was saying.

Suddenly Frollo's voice ceased and she looked sharply at where he was standing. His cold eyes locked on hers for a moment and then shifted as a guard came forward and unlocked the door of their carriage.

"No," she said, panic welling in her chest and making her voice emerge as a choke. "No, not you first!" Clopin squeezed her hand, his face set. She watched the gypsies closest to the door walk out, their hands tied as guards lined their path to the pedestals. The crowd began to shout and jeer, and some stray items flew near to the gypsies. Soon Esmeralda was being pulled out, and then Clopin was being dragged away from her.

"No!" she cried. "Please, no! Clopin!" His head turned and his eyes met hers; his dark pools were silently telling her to be strong and not give Frollo what he wanted. Tears filled her eyes as his hands slipped from hers, and the guard closed the door in her face. "No!" she cried again, clutching the bars as she watched him walk between the guards. She looked for Phoebus. He was sitting on his horse, watching with a stony face. Despair formed a knot in her stomach. Why was he not doing anything?

She watched as they were tied tightly to the pyres. Her heart felt as though it were ripping in two while she watched the girl whom Esmeralda had spoken to start to cry as she saw the waiting torches off to the side and saw the black smoke smudging the sky. Esmeralda stood with her back straight as an iron rod, her face uplifted and proud. Clopin's face was unusually sombre, and he seemed to be refusing to look at the carriage, as though knowing it would be harder if he had to look her in the face and see the pain. Tears filled Trinity's eyes.

Frollo began at the far end of the line of pyres and asked each, above the din of the crowd, whether they would repent their sins. Although almost every gypsy looked terrified, all refused to repent for sins they had not committed. Her chest began to heave as he reached Esmeralda and Clopin at the end, and he turned with a smirk on his face to lift the first torch. His iron grey eyes met hers and she hated that he would see her like this, right where he wanted her on the edge of despair.

Just as his pale fingers wrapped around the torch something broke out in the nearby carriage. Trinity turned her head despite herself, and Frollo did the same, a frown drawing his brows together. Two gypsies were arguing and soon began to fight, throwing their bound hands at each other. The others in the cart joined in the brawl, angry at what was happening in such small space. She noticed suddenly, out of nowhere, that the first man who was fighting was the one who had been speaking to Phoebus.

This was his plan? Disbelief flooded her, adding to her despair and her pain. An arguement?

"Break them up," Frollo snarled, obviously unhappy to have his execution interrupted. The guards surged forward and Phoebus turned his head carelessly as though to make sure it was being taken care of, but he caught Trinity's eyes and jerked his head slightly towards the pyres. She looked back and saw that the girl had disappeared. Her pyre was left looped with loose ropes that had not been cut. Trinity's heart rose slightly.

The squabble was settled and, satisfied, Frollo turned back to the pyres. His eyes went immediately to the empty pyre as people in the crowd began to murmur, and fury whitened his face even more until it was the colour of chalk.

"Where is she?" he demanded of the other gypsies. They all stood silently, tight-lipped, refusing to speak. He started forward and then turned to look at Trinity, his face accusing and hateful. "You know," he said, and his voice carried over the crowd's words. Heads turned to look at the lone woman left in the carriage, and a thrill of fear went through her, making her gasp. "Where is she?"

"I don't…I…" Trinity's voice died in her throat, and the fury in his eyes grew. "Tell me!" he ordered, his fingers tightening around the torch.

"I don't know," she said, though she knew it barely reached him over the renewed talking of the crowd.

"Very well," he said, his voice suddenly final. His eyes dared her to defy him again as he said, "Perhaps you need some persuasion." Without hesitating he turned, his robes billowing, and set flame to Clopin's pyre.

"No!" she screamed as the crowd grew louder, finally satisfied to see what they had gathered to witness. Clopin's lips were held tightly together but he had pressed his spine right against the pole, trying to avoid the heat starting down near his feet. Esmeralda's green eyes reflected the flames and were filled with horror. "No, I don't know! I don't!" Trinity cried.

"Tell me!" Frollo ordered again.

"I don't know!" she shrieked, unable to tear her eyes from Clopin. Tears filled her eyes and they obstructed her vision, fracturing the still-small fire into many different flames. She blinked and the tears fell down her cheeks. She raised her bound hands to cover her mouth as she cried, her eyes wide. Clopin looked up and met her eyes. The only sign of his panic was his rapid breathing, but other than that he seemed calm, his eyes serene, as if he was this calm just for her. "No," she sobbed, dropping to her knees. "No, Clopin!" She felt as though she would rather be burning with him than watching.

The gypsies in the next carriage were wailing and crying his name, when suddenly the brawl broke out again. Angrily Frollo motioned to the guards and they moved to stop it once again. She glanced wildly at Phoebus, who was watching with a frown, but with no apparent worry. She looked back to the pyre to see a fire starting at Esmeralda's feet as well. "No!" she screamed. "Stop it! STOP!"

When Frollo turned back to face the crowd, his eyes locked on hers; and in them she saw more hatred than she had ever thought possible for a human to contain.