CH. 12

Clopin struggled with the shackles around his wrists for what seemed like the millionth time. But all he accomplished was rubbing the skin raw. He'd once heard that insanity was defined by doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting a different result. He supposed that meant he was officially insane. But anything was better than just sitting miserably.

He was in a cell in the dungeons of the Palace of Justice. Slimy, cold stone walls bordered on three sides, and the front of the cell was blocked in my thick bars. He sat against the back wall, his hands chained above his head, just close enough that he could bend his elbows, but the chain didn't have enough length for him to move far. His hat had fallen off when the soldiers had yanked him off the bed, and his side was still aching from the confrontation. He hadn't worn his gloves when he'd left the Court, and now he wished he had. It would make the shackles hurt less.

The environment itself wasn't friendly. He smelled rust, dirt, and decay. Parts of the cell he was in had dark red stains as did the chains around his wrists –dried blood. It was very dark, only a torch somewhere outside the cells provided soft light.

But none of that was first on his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about Avril. Where was she in this horrible place of injustice? Was she being treated well? Had Frollo already begun interrogating her?

He gave a short laugh. She was probably being treated better than he was.

He tried to not go down that path of thought, but he couldn't help mentally preparing himself to say good-bye to her. How long would Frollo allow him to live? Would he even see Avril again? He just hoped that she got out of this place and escaped back to the Court. Esmeralda would take care of her. Then she'd never have to see the life she despised so much again.

He ran his tongue over his lips, still tasting the two kisses they'd shared. He tried to hold onto that. It was a comfort. His only light in a world of darkness. He briefly thought and worried about the rest of his people. What Esmeralda would think. How they all would go on without him. If they'd ever find out what had happened. But since he and Avril had been thrust into the same situation, she was first on his mind.

There's another reason, Clopin, don't fool yourself, he thought. You're falling in love with her.

He shut that down instantly. Oh, no. He couldn't afford a broken heart right now. He had to be strong. Strong enough to endure whatever Judge Frollo threw at him.

Just then he heard a door open and a rhythmic pacing of steps. The figure of the Minister of Justice stopped outside his cell, seeming darker than the shadows that choked up the area.

Clopin laughed. "Frollo! I was wondering when you'd grace me with your presence."

The Judge stared down his nose at him. "Your insolence, gypsy, will get you nowhere. What is your name?"

Clopin shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable on the hard floor. "I wouldn't think you'd like to know. Might that humanize me?"

"I want to know what to call you for when I talk to the Desmarais girl."

Clopin stared at him blankly for a moment. Then his brow furrowed. "Avril, you mean?"

"Yes," Frollo gave one nod. "That's her first name. I suppose she never gave you her last name."

She hadn't, and Clopin hadn't pursued. What did it matter? Perhaps she left her last name so that she wouldn't be tied to her family anymore. Sudden seriousness overtook his tone, his eyes boring into the Judge's. "Where is she?"

"She's fine for now."

"That wasn't my question."

"I'll see to it that you two see one another soon." He couldn't help the smile that tugged at one corner of his mouth. "We'd hate for young love to go to waste, wouldn't we?"

There was no use denying it. Frollo had seen them both in Avril's room together, and he was sure Gervais had reported them kissing. Clopin set his jaw, narrowing his eyes, and didn't respond.

Frollo asked again, "What is your name, gypsy?"

" . . . Clopin."

He took a breath and continued, "You have one chance, Clopin. I'll only ask you this once, and you only have once to answer. Where is the Court of Miracles?"

Clopin spat at the Judge. Even though he was too far to be reached, it went further than he'd expected, landing near the bars. He then fixed Frollo with a fiery glare.

"I thought as much," the Minister of Justice said calmly. "Very well. I shall be seeing you later." He glanced to the side. "Rupert Thomas?"

There was a clanging of metal and a guard walked up. He was tall and broad, covered in armor and holding a large sword. He was rather plain looking, with a brown bearded face and blue eyes.

Frollo turned back to Clopin. "He will be your permanent guard to make sure you don't pull anything . . . sly." He looked at Rupert. "Guard him at all times, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Clopin laughed. "The man's got to sleep at some point."

Frollo simply narrowed his eyes and walked off.

HoND

Avril sat on the edge of the bed, twisting her blue scarf between her hands. The room she was in was small and square, with only a simple bed and a dresser. But she didn't have anything to put in it. On top of the dresser sat a large lantern to provide more light since there were no windows.

It had been completely quiet since she'd arrived, and no one had come to speak to her. She was locked in, and she had tried several times to unlock it. She was almost tempted to try and beat the door down, but that was sure to draw attention.

She felt overwhelmed. It was too much. First she and Clopin had kissed, then she'd seen Gervais, then they had been attacked, she was afraid Clopin would die as they rushed to the Court of Miracles, then she'd been kicked out, caught by soldiers, returned home, Clopin had come for her, and finally Frollo had taken them as prisoners.

She sighed. Too much. It was way too much.

There was a jangle of keys and a lock clicked. She stood up quickly as the door opened, letting in Frollo. He closed and locked the door behind him.

She looked him over. "What, no guard?"

"Presently I don't think you're very much of a threat," he responded calmly. "But there is a soldier outside the door."

"Where's Clopin?"

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My dear girl, you must realize that you have no reason to care for that creature. You were tempted by gypsies and gave in. I am here to try to help you."

"Where is he?"

"I'll allow you to see him soon enough."

"I want to see him now."

Frollo regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "My, my, you're quite impatient. Why don't you have a seat."

She crossed her arms tightly. "I don't want to. I want to know where Clopin is."

"How about you and I strike a compromise?"

Her eyebrows lowered suspiciously. "A compromise?"

"Yes. One that will cleanse your soul and help every citizen of Paris. And, if you hold up your end, I will let you and your . . . Clopin . . . go free."

Doubt gnawed at her. She knew she shouldn't believe anything he said. She kept remembering him killing that gypsy for no reason. He wasn't a man to be trusted. He wasn't an honest man. Still, she was interested. "I'm listening."

"All you have to do is provided me with one piece of information, and then this will all be over."

She felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff; her breath was swept away and her gut was tightening. Oh, no . . .

"Tell me the location of the Court of Miracles."

Her stomach twisted sickeningly and her head became light. He knew she'd been there! But of course he knew. She was found with a gypsy, she was dressed as a gypsy. And now he wanted her to give it up.

"I'll never tell you that," Avril said evenly, impressed by her own bravery.

Frollo stared down at her. "You shouldn't refuse me. I have ways of changing your mind, ones I'm not too thrilled to use. I'd rather us resolve this peacefully."

She gave a half-crazed laugh, her heart pounding. "What are you going to do, torture me? How will you explain that to my parents?" As his eyes narrowed, she continued, "Be honest, Judge Frollo. This has nothing to with 'cleansing my soul' or appeasing my parents. I lived with the gypsies. I know what kind of man you are. All this is about is finding the location the Court of Miracles. Let's not lie to one another. That's a sin, after all."

She immediately knew that last jab hadn't been a wise one. His mouth tightened, his eyes blazed. She was afraid he would strike her until he seemed to get back control over himself. He calmed, shoulders leveling. He opened the door and took one step back into the threshold. "You will be denied any food until you comply. Think of it as a 'purifying fast', if you will." He gave a thin smile. "I hope you'll be more flexible next time we speak."

With that the door shut and he was gone.

HoND

Esmeralda stood at the top of the cemetery as dawn light broke out across Paris. It tinged the sky orange and pink, and the bells of Notre Dame began tolling. Her brow creased as wind blew her thick black hair from her face.

There was the sound of footsteps and Quincy's massive form came up beside her. He paused a moment before saying, "I'm taking a group of myself and three gypsies into the city to search for him. We'll look for Avril, too. If we don't find them, we'll come back at sunset." Another pause. "Will you stay here in case he returns?"

She sighed and gave a quick nod. "Yes, I'll stay." Normally she would refuse being left out of the action. However, if Clopin or Avril came back, she wanted to be there.

Esmeralda watched as the four gypsies made their way down the hill and out of the cemetery, a few glancing back at her. She avoided their gazes, instead sweeping her eyes over the area. The figures disappeared into the city and still she didn't move. The graves were silent around her.

Where are you, Clopin?
"Oh, don't worry." It was Fifi's voice as the plump, motherly gypsy came up next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure he's fine. Clopin's been in plenty of tough situations before and somehow manages to squirm out of them. I'm sure he's found Avril and is just convincing her to return." Fifi shook her head. "The poor dear. I can't believe the way some folks turned on her!"

Esmeralda sighed. "He's injured, Fifi. I told him not to go out. He shouldn't have gone out."

"He does his own thing, chérie. He always has."

Esmeralda's shoulders just drooped as she watched Paris ruefully.

Fifi gave her a soft squeeze. "Don't you worry. I'm sure he'll turn up before nightfall."

HoND

Avril wasn't sure how long it had been, but she knew it was nothing short of hours.

She was beginning to get hungry, but ignored it. She knew humans could go without food for quite some time. Only once a guard had opened the door just long enough to deposit a glass of water and then sealed her once again in her homely prison. She had passed the time by pacing the room, lying on the bed, looking through the empty drawers of the dresser, stretching her limbs, and thinking of how Clopin was, what Frollo was going to do next, and how to escape.

She flopped once again onto the bed, rubbing her temples in an effort to stop her growing headache. She looked up at the ceiling, "Please, God, help us through this."

There was a rattling of keys and Frollo entered, followed by two soldiers bearing torches. Avril stood, holding her chin high.

"Have you changed your mind?" Frollo asked, raising one eyebrow as if he already knew the answer.

"No, I have not."

"Then you will come with me."

She glanced between the two guards, both who seemed ready for action. So she steadied herself and walked over to them. Frollo shut the door and they made their way down the hall. The Judge was in lead, followed by Avril with both soldiers flanking her. The halls they passed were dark and made of stone. Once they went by a window, and she was shocked to see the sun sinking into a bloody sunset. She had been trapped in that room all day?

"Where are we going?" she asked.

It was a few moments before Frollo responded, "Patience."

She huffed silently, taking to fiddling with her scarf again. As if he could sense her actions, the Judge said, "That's quite the ensemble you're wearing. I assume you got it from your gypsy friends."

"I did," she replied levelly.

"I suppose you can dress like them if you want. But you do not look like them physically. You're as pale as death, with colorless hair and eyes."

Glancing up at the back of his head quizzically, she asked, "What am I to you, then? A gypsy, or not?"

He didn't answer, so she contented herself to studying the measured pacing of his steps. He was like a moving statue. They reached spiral stairs descending down. The torches just lit up a circle around them, behind and in front fading into black. The air got colder, and a sharp metallic smell began to stain it. She frowned, knowing she had smelled it somewhere before.

Her stomach dropped as she realized what it was. Blood. She had smelled it the last time she was in the Palace of Justice, walking in on Frollo torturing and killing a gypsy. She began to sweat, her heart pounding. What was he going to do?

They reached the bottom and Avril was faced with a long stone passage lined with prison cells. Torches were set before every three, dimly lighting the area. Frollo just kept walking, and she peered past the guard to see into the cells they went by. Most were empty. She saw a dead body rotting in one, and she almost dry-heaved. Dried blood and heavy shackles were in every single prison. She saw some bones in the corner of one. She began to feel sick.

At last Frollo stopped. He inclined his head to the cell he was before. "Why don't you have a look, my dear?"

Both soldiers took one step aside. Avril eyed them, and then eyed the soldier that had been standing on the opposite side of the cell, guarding it since they came in. He didn't even glance at her. She walked past them and looked into the prison, bracing herself for what she might see.

Her knees gave out as she saw Clopin looking back at her, his hands chained above his head, sitting against the back wall. He started. "Avril!"

She grabbed the bars. "Clopin!" She looked back at Frollo angrily. "Let him go! He won't tell you where the Court of Miracles is, he's of no use to you."

The same sentence died on Clopin's lips as he watched the Judge sneer. He obviously had something in mind, and Clopin knew it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Frollo nodded to a guard. "Stand her up."

The man did so, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the floor. He held her tightly, but her gaze was still transfixed on the gypsy.

Frollo seemed as calm as ever as he faced Avril. "Since you have refused to tell me where the Court of Miracles is by yourself, I think you may need some motivation. Rupert," he glanced back at the soldier that had been guarding the cell. "Give him our traditional start, if you please."

Rupert grinned. "Yes, sir."

Uh-oh, Clopin thought as the soldier took out a set of keys. There was metallic jangling as he unlocked the cell and walked in, closing the door behind him.

"What are you going to do?" Avril asked, her voice strained with alarm. Her pale blue eyes moved to Clopin, and she saw one message clearly in his gaze: Don't tell Frollo where the Court is.

Rupert kneeled beside Clopin, but he didn't take his eyes from Avril. He hoped she knew what he was trying to convey to her. Their deaths were nothing compared to the rest of the gypsies. As he heard the sound of a dagger being drawn, he thought he was going to throw up. He throat constricted and his head felt light. Avril's eyes were impossibly wide, her jaw tight, as she watched.

Rupert took the dagger and touched the tip to Clopin's palm. He held the gypsy's forearm still with his other hand, as though he expected Clopin to try and elbow him.

The pain was sharp as Rupert drew the blade across his hand, leaving a red line. Clopin bit down on his tongue so he wouldn't make noise. As the slow slice continued, he squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head to side. Don't cry out. Don't cry out.

Avril pulled against the soldier's grip. "N-no, please stop!"

As the blade reached the end of Clopin's hand, Rupert drew it away and stood up. The gypsy let out his breath, opening his eyes again. Trickles of blood were sliding down his wrist and pooling at the metal shackle.

"Have you changed your mind?" Frollo asked. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

She met Clopin's gaze again, and saw his dark eyes cloudy with pain. Still, she kept her mouth closed, feeling tears pull.

"Hmm," Frollo sighed. "What shall we cut next, Rupert?"

The soldier chuckled. "How about his face? Stop him from winning over any more ladies."

"No!" Avril shouted, pulling against the guard. "Please don't!"

Rupert kneeled again and grabbed a fistful of Clopin's hair, yanking it to hold his head still. He brought the dagger to his cheekbone.

"Stop!" Avril screamed, wrenching violently and getting her arm free. The guard went for her, but Frollo held up a single hand calmly. Everyone paused, looking at him.

"Would you like to tell me the information?" Frollo asked.

Avril turned back to Clopin and saw his eyes snap to her, giving her an answer: Don't tell Frollo where the Court is.

Her body was trembling as she looked between him, the soldiers, and that dagger resting on his skin.

Seeming satisfied, Frollo said, "Leave him, Rupert. I think our guest would like some time alone in her room to think this over."

Clopin felt faint from relief as the guard released his hair and stood up, walking out of the cell. As the two other soldiers began to lead Avril away, she seemed limp in their arms, still staring at him. She didn't look away until he couldn't see her anymore.

Clopin felt his heart calming down. He glanced at his bloody palm and then back to Rupert, who had resumed his position against the wall. "That was something, wasn't it?"

He didn't respond.

"No, I'm being serious. I've never seen a dagger handled so clumsily before. Have you had any training?"

Rupert's blue eyes dropped to him. "Shut your mouth, gypsy, or I'll cut that."

Clopin laughed. "Silly boy, cutting my mouth wouldn't stop my ability to talk. And they call me uneducated. Unless you meant my tongue or throat. Neither of which Frollo would be too happy about."

Rupert looked extremely annoyed and averted his gaze once again.

"Come on, cheri. We're both getting bored. A little conversation would be fun!"

Clopin knew this was one of those times Esmeralda would tell him that he goes too far. But thinking of her instantly dampened his spirits, so he was glad when Rupert didn't rise up to the taunt.

He only hoped Avril wouldn't rise to Frollo's, either.

Please Review!