Chapter 10

Lilo stared out at the blackened heavens, where the sun, now just a bare shimmer of crimson light, outlined the sharp mountains of the far-off horizon. The soft shades of twilight took place of the once dynamic orange and reds of the already passing sunset, allowing the twinkling stars to find their place in the developing backdrop of night sky. The evening breeze swept across the roofs and spires of Paris, passing along the outer walkway of Notre Dame, across the stone balustrade that she then was sitting upon. She felt it, an invisible force that disturbed her dress and hair and sent those shivers up and down her straightened spine. There was something about that moment, sitting there and looking at the stars that just made her happy to be alive.
Quasimodo stood beside her, as silent as she was, leaning upon the hewn railway with a bittersweet expression, conventional to the hunchback, taking all of his deformed face. Lilo turned her glance from the sky to her new friend, watching him as his he stared not upwards at the stars but downwards at the tired city of Paris below. The little Hawaiian followed that sad gaze down into those tall wooden houses. There were candles, it seemed, in all the open windows, not yet chosen to be closed to shut out the night wind. The flames, Lilo thought quietly, seemed to remind her of the stars that were coming to light in the ether above, as if it were a reflection, similar to the one created by the ocean on those warm Hawaiian nights.
She stared down at the flickering lights, at every house that they were set in, scanning as much as she could the twisted streets beneath, and then looked back up at the hunchback with a sort of confusion taking hold of her. His cheek was rested on his upturned hand, and there was a smile on his face, but a shimmer of melancholy in his large eyes. She turned her whole body round to face him, making sure not to fall over the edge of the balustrade, worry in her brown eyes.
"Why are you so sad, Quasimodo?" she asked, gripping onto the edges of the banister as she leaned forward to better examine his face.
"Hm?" The hunchback straightened out somewhat and his eyes widened suddenly as if he were forced abruptly out of a dream or a deep thought. He turned to Lilo, still a little flustered, glancing back down at the city for a final time before talking. "Oh," he said, "I was just thinking about something..." His gaze returned to the houses, where the candles were finally being blown out and the windows beginning to close. The sun had completely disappeared below the horizon. He sighed and that smile disappeared. "You don't know what it's like to live up here alone all the time, Lilo."
"I guess not..." She said. She glanced at that sad face. "Well, I'm here now," she responded, putting a hand on one of his shoulders.
"Yes," he said, smiling, "I know. And, I'm happy about that."
Lilo returned the smile with a wide one of her own, and she straightened herself out and turned back to the sky.
"It's very pretty, isn't it?" she asked.
"Yes..." Quasimodo looked at the sky and the stars. There was a pensive expression on his deformed face. Finally, without removing his eyes from the sky, he spoke. "Lilo, can I ask you something?"
"Shoot," she replied, still smiling. Quasimodo looked as if he were going to say something, his mouth opened, his eyes shimmering with an unfamiliar light. But nothing came out, not a word escaped his pale lips, and he could not spare an utterance for some unknown reason. Lilo stared at him, waiting patiently for him to proceed with his inquiry, smiling curiously all the while. Finally, Quasimodo just sighed and stared down at the floor of the walkway, shaking his head sadly.
"What did you want to ask, Quasi?" she asked, a little confused.
"Never mind," he replied, turning away. "It isn't important, anyway."
"Alright," Lilo said, turning her head in a sort of questioning manner, but shrugging her shoulders passively. "If you say so."
Quasimodo stared at her for a small but meaningful while, as if in appraisal, Lilo returning the gaze in perplexity. Then, half-laughing about something that Lilo probably wouldn't understand, he turned, making his way to the entrance that led into his bell tower home.
"Where are you going?" Lilo asked before he disappeared.
"I have to do something again," he yelled back. "Just stay there, I'll come back in a few minutes."
Lilo listened as the creaking of the boards inside the tower made its way upward and inward so much until she was unable to hear them any longer. For a while, everything was once again silent, except the creaking of the closing shutters and the gentle howl of the blowing wind. It was somewhat disturbing and altogether ominous, as if she were waiting for something to just up and grab her, or for some sort of eruption or explosion to occur.
Seconds later, it was something of an explosion that did stir the air, the sudden clanging of iron bells sounding from the bell tower, then far outward, seemingly past what Lilo was able to see. The night appeared much more palpable with that ringing, the very same that had rung out earlier on in that day and enchanted her immediately. She listened excitedly to the tones of those metal throats as they sung out into the evening, enjoying the music as she had before. She was smiling again. Minutes later, it died out, the night falling back into its obscure silence once the echoing of those bells disappeared. Following it just moments afterward, Quasimodo appeared from the opening of the bell tower, a certain smile lighting his face as if he had just done something that pushed back his melancholy for at least a while longer.
"I really like the bells, Quasi," Lilo said, as he appeared beside her. "What are they for, anyway?"
"I was ringing the evening mass," he replied. He put his hands beneath her armpits and lifted her off the balustrade onto the stone floor. He led her into the bell tower, holding her tiny hands in his own large one. "I have a lot of chores to do after sunset," he informed her as they entered the level of the tower where his miniature table was set. "So you'll have to wait in the bell tower until I'm done, if that's okay with you. You can also come along with me, if you want."
Lilo lifted an eyebrow, thinking about the tasks she had to complete just the day before.
"It's okay," she answered, "I'll just stay here for now and explore around."
"Alright," Quasimodo said, stepping into the area set out for his berth. "Just be careful. And," he said, pulling out a candle, "you'll need this. It gets very dark in the bell tower at night, and there are rats sometimes." He looked down at her with a parental concern. "Are you sure you want to stay up here?"
"Yup," Lilo replied. "I'll be really careful. You have nothing to worry about."
"I hope so," Quasimodo said, and he put the candle on a brass holder, lighting the wick with a match. "I don't want anything to happen to you, okay, Lilo? The bell tower is a lot bigger than it seems."
"I'll bet," she said. "If I can beat the cold abyss of space, I can beat a bell tower."
"What was that?" Quasimodo asked, an eyebrow lifted, both eyes staring curiously down at her.
"Nothing," Lilo quickly replied, suddenly realizing her mistake. She shouldn't tell anyone about her adventures in space. Not here in this one place, and not at her home on Earth. She didn't want to get in trouble with Jumba...if she ever saw him again.
Quasimodo just shrugged, accepting the reply, and handed her the candleholder.
"Be careful," he repeated slowly, so she would be more aware of how dangerous it could be. Lilo nodded her head impatiently, saying she understood and he didn't have to worry about her at all. It took Quasimodo several moments to build up enough certainty to leave the bell tower, and even then Lilo was sure she saw him muttering some sort of prayer as he made his way down the ladder.
"Well," Lilo shrugged, "at least he cares."

Stitch sat between Old Matthias's knobby knees, grumbling inwardly as the ancient man forced his bony fingers through his wild blue hair, listening to the conversation that was passing between the gypsy and several others of his kin. They were discussing no one other but Stitch himself, now renamed "Rabbit" or "Dog" when that thin man appeared that Matthias referred to as "king" or "nephew" and other vulgar names, though most behind his back. Stitch hadn't the time or the luck to discover his true name, but he found him less annoying than the old man, but still horribly irritating in his incredibly happy manner. That man seemed to find some satisfaction in rubbing his hands into Stitch's hair very violently, and making Matthias brush it up again. There seemed to be a little bit of undiscovered hostility between them, though the "dog" suspected that it was as friendly a rivalry as the two could manage.
"I think it's more of a baby bear," one gypsy woman said as she sewed the hem of a skirt.
"Perhaps it is some sort of bat. Look at his ears!" Another said.
"I think his ears more resemble a rabbit's," Matthias said. "So that is what I get, and you all can stick to any other bets."
The other gypsies muttered, throwing money and slips of paper into a large pot in the center of the circle that they formed. Stitch, barely understanding what they meant, got a glance at the slips as they were thrown in with the coins, noticing small roughly drawn pictures of animals and initials marked on the bottom. This gave him less clues than what he would have liked.
"What's all this?" The voice of "king", very discernible with its flute-y highness from the rough, worn sounds of the other male gypsies. Stitch stared at him warily, having just finished with the painful operation of having his hair recombed by the less-than-gentle Matthias.
"We're betting what this odd character might be," one gypsy replied, glancing at the king as he tossed in a slip and a few coins.
The king raised one eyebrow, now visible since his mask was now gone. He glanced at Stitch and Matthias.
"I though we agreed that it was a dog," he said with a friendly suspicion.
"Well," Matthias said, thinking, "I really think it's a rabbit." He turned to the other gypsies. "Does this look like a dog to you?"
The crowd laughed at the very idea, and Stitch grumbled grumpily. For so long he had disguised himself as a dog in Hawaii and now no one believed that simple alibi.
"He is the Quasimodo of all curs," one man said, chuckling. "He must have been run over with a wagon in his youth, or something with that effect."
Matthias dropped in a slip of paper that he had just written on, and tossed it into the black pot with a few coins.
"There," he said. "Monsieur Clopin Trouillefou; Dog."
"How generous of you," said Clopin, "to give some of your money just to prove me a fool."
"I must say," The old gypsy said, "you've done a very good job making it difficult to do that, for some strange reason. But, if that is what it takes, then I will be happy to steal money just to prove it."
"Why such animosity now, my friend?" Clopin asked, lifting another eyebrow. "I thought everything was peachy! You were acting so friendly for years. Isn't this whole stupid argument over with?"
"I thought it was...but something inside me is screaming out 'NO'!" Matthias replied. "And besides, how is it you are so sure it's about that?"

"Well," Clopin said, "I just hope you won't have to lower yourself to stealing, as you said. This is folly, you old fool, and not the fun type either."
"Alas, you are too late," Matthias said. "The crime is committed. Check your pockets, Monsieur le fou and you shall see!"
Clopin was frowning as he peeked into the pouch at his side, and exclaimed angrily.
"You blasted thief!" he yelled. "That's half of today's earnings! And all bet for something so stupid! You've stooped rather low this time, Matthias."
"It seems King has no confidence in his choice," the old gypsy replied bitterly, and, smiling at Stitch, he began patting the blue creature's head. "Isn't that right, rabbit?"
Clopin frowned. "How are you to discover if this is a dog if no person in this world has seen what such a creature before?"
"I have my ways," Matthias replied, staring down at Stitch and smiling impishly. Stitch gulped and glanced at Clopin, who was shaking his head and staring at the blue creature sympathetically.
"I hope you don't lose your experiment before the week of training has started," Clopin said, and he turned away with an angry sweep.

Clopin glanced backward at the group of gypsies behind him as he left the lighted circle, and he sighed, shaking his head disappointedly and sitting at the bread table, where a few loaves were set now. Taking out his dagger, he cut a slice and chewed, apparently upset, staring at the sharpened tip of the blade as he ate. Matthias was acting so ridiculous this night! This old vagabond was proving much more spontaneous than he was!
"That old bastard," he muttered, jamming the tip of the dagger angrily into the wooden boards of the table. "He's more rotten than his cooking, I swear!"
"I don't know, Clopin," said a voice behind him. "You know how he is. One moment he's forgotten everything and lays back, and the other, he brings up old arguments that might have happened a thousand years ago and he gets angry. He's just a doddering old fool."
"Who just happens to be very vengeful," Clopin added, sighing and laying his head on the table. "You should be one to understand that, La Esmeralda, after what he did to you."
The gypsy woman set herself beside her leader, sighing and straightening out her dress.
"It was only once," she said. "At least he didn't do anything after that."
"That was only because he thought the job was finished, which seemed more probable than you think," Clopin said, straightening out. "How can you just easily forgive him?"
"He didn't do it again, and he promised not to do it again!"
"So? He set your dress on fire!"
"The burns went away eventually," Esmeralda replied. "Anyway, he's like my grandfather. You know how old people are."
"Yes, but barely enough about old demons."
Clopin stared at the circle of gypsies, where the old man he now hated and his new creature was.
"Oh, he'll forget about it eventually, Clopin," Esmeralda said. "He's taken you being gypsy king for years already; he'll take it many years from now right until he dies."
"Does it have to be so many years?" the gypsy king asked, staring at the girl, mock-pleadingly.
"You know, you aren't exactly that easy to deal with, either," the woman said. "Sometimes you're even harder to understand, and your mood swings are just out there!"
"What do you mean?" Clopin asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Well," Esmeralda said, "most of the time, you're just ridiculous." She glanced at him. "In the good way," she added. "Other times, you're sadistic, and after that, you want to kill everyone. Sometimes you drink yourself silly, other times, you don't want to get anywhere near ale. One moment you're practically evil, and seconds later, you act as if nothing happens and you're jumping around, singing!"
Clopin smiled, chuckling that familiar laugh, his spirits and features brightened.
"See?" Esmeralda noted, gesturing toward his expression. "You're just a cornucopia of different feelings and moods, as is your uncle. You two are more alike than you and your father would ever have been, you understand that, right?"
"Well, yes," Clopin said, still laughing a bit. "I suppose your more right than I give you credit. I just sometimes wish the old man would jump out of his cloud of revenge. How are your legs?"
"I told you, the burns went away."
"I'll take your word for it," he said. "At least I'm not that poor creature, whatever he is."
"Didn't you think it was a dog?"
"In a way, yes," he replied, scratching his chin. "But, now that I'm losing half my earnings, I'm not too sure anymore."
Esmeralda shook her head. "You'll regain them in a day, Clopin, you know you can."
"You're too kind, La Esmeralda," he said, standing up and sweeping his hat off in a charming bow. "I thank you for this enlightening lecture."

And with that, he skipped off, singing.

Lilo had already ventured about a lot of the tower, encountering cockroaches and several of the rats that Quasimodo had mentioned before. There was a great amount of dust filming the wooden floors, hiding the slats in an eerie whiteness. It was very dark in the bell tower, and the candle gave out less light than she would have been comfortable with, not enough to reveal to her a safe amount of what lay before her. Several times already, she nearly tripped or fell off the edge of the elevated floor onto a lower level.
She was becoming a bit frightened of her surroundings now, the wax of the candle more than half below its original height. The night was becoming very cold, and the small flame before her was not enough heat to stop the shivering. She held it close to her, taking away the small amount of illumination she had from it to guide her, the only other light to help her being the sparse silver rays of the moonlight that shone through the crossing beams.
Lilo wasn't completely sure just which way it was back to her starting point near the miniatures, having made her way well into the labyrinth of confusing beams and ladders that made up the bell tower. She spent what seemed like hours traveling back and forth, trying to trace her footprints in the dust, which proved much harder than she liked. It seemed a new film of dust was beginning to form over them.
It was during one of her print searches when that she saw the silver light of the moon shining through an open window.
"Finally," she said, rushing over, relieved. She was beginning to get tired of the monotony of the darkness. When she reached the place, though, instead of discovering the familiar place she realized more and more how horribly lost she really was. She just arrived in a location that she had never seen nor been before.
It was a clearing in the jungle of crossbeams, where a single window, pane-less as the others had been, was set into the wall, the light of the full moon glittering in pale rays through the square hole. There was nothing there, but a fallen beam, rotting at the edges and set against the wall, beneath the ledge of the window. The dust on the floor was thinner than the other places she had chanced upon, as if it were more recently visited than they were. Cobwebs were formed in the corner of the windows, their masters long gone, either left or dead.
And then there was something else, hidden just beneath the shadow of an overhanging slat of wood. Lilo was not truly able to see it, barely clued into its existence by the moonlight that was able to catch a reflecting corner of whatever was set there. Lilo, curious girl that she was, stood on the verge of the clearing, fighting inwardly whether or not she should see what it was that stood there, taunting her with its mysteriousness. On one hand, it might be something she wasn't supposed to see, or maybe something dangerous, like a giant blade or something of the like. On the other, it could be something pretty, something magical, or perhaps nothing at all, bringing her no loss or no gain.
It was just the way she was, she realized when she took the first timid step forward into the pallid rays, clutching her candle tight in her hands. Her travel was slow, her steps light and scared as if she expected some horrible beast to jump out at her if she made too much sound. The near silent creaks of the boards seemed explosions beneath her light, sandaled feet. She was sweating horribly when she finally reached whatever it was that lay beyond the shadows. She glanced back at the lighted clearing, frowning angrily at how much it harried her, before turning to find the identity of the object.
When she saw it, her breath was taken away at the sight. The flame of her candle reflected against the glass of an unset window, large and stained with color, patterned with pictures of flowers and angels. The panes of glass were set into welded iron, which had not yet tarnished, so Lilo suspected it was either well taken care of or not old at all. She stood there quietly, her hands loosening with a preoccupied wonder. It was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. For several moments she just stood there, her fingers opening quietly, as if she were going to touch it. Her hand lifted up, and pressed against the cool glass, icy cold from the night air, and probably much more fragile.
There was a sudden thump against the floorboards, and Lilo exclaimed, turning suddenly in realization as her candle and its holder dropped out of her hand. Her hands pushed hard against the art as she turned, the momentum of her excitement tipping the window suddenly as she reached for the holder. She leaned down for the brass holder scared the floor might catch fire if she didn't get it soon, but it was only when she just barely touched the handle of the holder that something horrible happened.

Quasimodo, finished with the last of his chores was making his way back to his apartment. He entered the shadows of the tower, rubbing his shoulder, hoping that Lilo was alright. There was just something he was frightened about, this odd feeling in his chest that said that something just wasn't right there. The air had a waver of foreboding, and it sent chills through his malformed body. It wasn't the wind...no the wind could not achieve such cold. It was something supernatural...an instant of psychic warning.
He did not understand it really; he understood that Lilo probably could take care of herself, though it was difficult to believe with her being so small. He didn't want her to get hurt, not at all. She was the closest thing to a friend that he had ever had...well, closest human friend that was, next to his own father. The thought of his foster-father came suddenly into his head, that austere and pious face coming into view of his inner eye. Suddenly, Quasimodo became unsure of if it would be wise to let Lilo be in the bell tower. What would his master think? Would he get angry? Would he mind? If he did, what would he do to him? What would his master do to Lilo?

These thoughts frightened him. He really wasn't sure now what he should do. He wanted to keep Lilo with him as long as he could, the bond that they had created between each other formed so quickly that it tore at his heart the very notion of her leaving. Not only would he miss her until she came back, he wasn't even sure if she would come back. It only took him a few moments of him seeing her that made him attached to her. It was when she was fainted in his arms, so fragile and sad-looking, like nothing more than an infant. He could have done without the vomit, but still...
There was a sudden crash from the upper levels followed by a frightened scream. Quasimodo, pulled abruptly out of his thoughts, looked upwards; sweat beginning to trickle from his forehead with his anxiety. He knew who had screamed.

A/N: Okay, that's it. I'd just like to thank those who have reviewed so far, you rock. Cathy, thank you, you're the person who brought me back to this piece of fiction, which I had, sadly, forgotten. I can never forget my first. Fallen Wraith, Frollo is coming in two or more chapters, so hold on, and if anyone else is reading this, REVIEW! For the love of all humanity REVIEW! My self esteem is very low!!!