Four months had passed since I had seen the Puppet Master. And two months ago, Jal was captured and hung in town square. Gillie and I were now truly alone in the world. All we had was each other. With Jal gone we had to split up more often to earn the same amount we were earning when he was still alive. It's rather funny that instead of following in my mother's footsteps, I took interest in my father's ways, while my brother took interest in my mother's talent. Right now I was in the middle of dancing, trying to imagine Gillie accompanying me with mother's old Tambura. I may not be as attractive as mother had been, but men were mere dogs, and a piece of meat, even bad piece was still meat in their eyes. So it did not surprise me that the crowd I was a attracting consisted of a good portion of men.
Spinning the chains, I started to roll backwards, as slowly as my body would permit. Pulling up suddenly I front flipped, cracking the fire onto the pavement, leaving cinders and sparks on the cobbled street. After landing on my feet, I took deep even breaths and lowered one of the blazing fire orbs into my mouth, and put it out. Extracting it I snatched up a small bottle of liquor, taking some into my mouth and then held my last chain close to my face, the crowd was in awe of the fire that I seemed to be breathing. After taking a quick swig of water from a second bottle, I quenched the fire like I did the first. Giving the crowd my most dazzling smile I bowed, while gently gesturing to my Uncle's old hat, which was on the ground. Coins, being thrown in could be heard. Once the mass had dispersed, only then did I stand.
Wiping beads of sweat from my forehead, I removed my head scarf from my waist, which I had put there to tie my hair down to keep the flames from catching it. After I had finished tying my scarf off, I picked up the hat and dumped its contents into the pouch hanging at my waist. Placing the hat on my head, I wrapped my fire chains around my midriff. The whole street seemed to be drenched in silence now, except for myself of course. I was about to leave to go find Gillie, but the clanging of the bells of Notre Dame caused me to halt. The music they made was so beautiful, so loud like crashing thunder, and yet so soft like a fresh spring rain.
Third Person:
Damara remained unaware of who was lurking in the shadows, unaware that for the past few months, she was being watched and sized up by the King of the Gypsies himself. He had been observing the Damara and Gillie since the hanging of their Uncle. Though gypsies never dared to be seen during a hanging, they remained in the shadows, mourning for their kin. Despite the fact Clopin did not know Jal, he watched anyway. And while doing so he saw Damara and Gillie hiding, and watching through tears.
Clopin had met the gypsy girl before the hanging, and even spoke to her. He had the bite mark to prove it, if it had not been for him. The little phoenix would have been taken to the Palace of Justice, to be tortured and possibly raped. The girl had talent, as well as her brother. But her talent was rare among women. And it could put bread on the table, if she became more open to the crowds she attracted. Clopin could see that the girl was shy, but if he put her in the company of Esmeralda. Perhaps she could attract just as much attention as his adopted sister.
The little phoenix was about to depart to find her brother. But at the sound of the bells of Notre Dame, she stopped and stared up a bell tower, in a state of admiration and awe. Clopin skirted around the shadows, hoping to get a better look at her face. The girl was rare beauty, despite the scars and burns on her body. She walked with a dancer's grace; it was obvious she did not find herself anywhere near attractive. It was made even more obvious, when she kept her face down, and avoided eye contact with people. Clopin studied the girl's face. And he made his decision; he would welcome the little phoenix and her brother into his court. Just as she was about to turn and leave, Clopin stepped out of the shadows.