Chapter 34:
Shadows had choked Esmeralda's consciousness as well as her lungs. Deep in her consciousness, she was aware of winds blowing all around her, and then a rushing in her skull.
Soon afterwards, she was at rest in the darkness, swathed in swaddling so tight that her limbs could not move, and indeed she could not feel them anymore.
Momentarily, she became mildly aware of a commotion a short distance away. People were shouting, and it sounded much like a war…
Why was there a war?
This doesn't sound like Heaven… she thought to herself. In fact… it sounds like the opposite…
Flames… flames had been everywhere, but that was when she yet lived, so they had nothing to do with Hell… she was calm now, serene in her dark prison, and yet she wanted to be free.
Sparks of her spirit rose up to fight against the manacles she could feel around her entire body, but she was powerless.
She fell back though she had forced her way closer to the surface, and for a long while, all she knew was the silence of her own mind.
That was until she felt someone gripping her hands, and heard the sound of that person sobbing close to her. Sobbing, and then embracing her…
Why was she powerless to respond?
Whoever this was must be suffering… must think she was dead… and she was unable to reach out to him… yes it must be a 'him,' mustn't it?
Actually… it sounded like Quasimodo, when she heard snatches of his voice. He was desperate… weeping… why could she not reach him?
Then she heard another voice… velvet poison which was deceptively calm and prepared to bring death and vicious torment… Why were Frollo and Quasimodo together in this new dark world?
Surely one was bound for heaven and the other…
But she must be alive.
She could still feel the ache in her foot, and it was her lungs pricked with vicious needles…
Instead of the low tones of before, she began to hear shouting… something must be wrong! She had to help!
She forced herself to open her eyes, and to sit up, her mind awash in images from stained glass windows and puppet shows, and the vicious eyes she had seen through the smoke and flames.
Her first blurred vision of the room she was in happened to be of Quasimodo's back, facing a corner which was too far away for her to scrutinize with any success.
The important thing was that he should know she yet lived.
"Quasimodo…" she croaked, thinking her voice sounded like that of a weak old woman rather than a vibrant young woman.
Instantly he turned to her, calling her name, and running to embrace her.
From that darkened corner, Esmeralda heard the rumble of Frollo's voice snarl, "She lives!" She next heard the hiss of a sword, and Quasimodo's shout of "No!"
Quasimodo ran past Frollo out the door with Esmeralda cradled in his arms, and it was all Esmeralda could do to cling to him about his neck.
Her head was bobbing around, and her arms were wobbling with all the strength of soggy bread.
"Hush," he whispered desperately to her, and that was fine with her. She had nothing to say but a scream, and the desire to scream was quickly magnified when Quasimodo dropped below a balcony, and the only thing which kept them from plunging to their deaths was his one powerful arm clinging to a hanging gargoyle.
Breathless moments passed during which Esmeralda's heart threatened to pummel her smoky lungs, but she could not relieve the tension in the least.
There was one instant when she thought Frollo may leave thinking that they'd escaped further into the cathedral, but that hope was swiftly shattered.
Frollo's face, lit up by the flames below, loomed over them, and he asked, "Leaving so soon?" with a gleeful grin so broad his face looked skeletal.
Then the sword came.
Quasimodo had to quickly swing to another gargoyle to avoid the blow, and all Esmeralda could do was cling to him with all her waning strength.
She nearly slipped when Frollo swung at them again, so Quasimodo shouted at her to hang on.
It seemed at first that Quasimodo would outrun Frollo's sword strikes, but instead, Frollo cornered them, and Quasimodo threw Esmeralda back over the railing so that she was safe on solid footing, and he drew Frollo's attention by standing on the railing.
Esmeralda crawled slowly to a safe distance so that she could escape Frollo's view for just a little longer. If only she could muster the strength to be of actual help…
"I should have known you'd risk your life to save that gypsy witch," Frollo growled, and while Esmeralda was hauling herself upright on the railing, he added, "Just as your own mother died trying to save you."
This was just as much news to Esmeralda as it was to Quasimodo, but she had to restrain her reaction, as well as prevent herself from coughing, while Quasimodo merely asked, "What?"
Esmeralda did not have time to process this revelation, she would more than likely have to ask Quasimodo about it later.
She chastised herself for thinking there would be a time after this ordeal, but proceeded all the same.
Was there some kind of weapon she could attack Frollo with?
She was too late. Frollo had swung his cape over Quasimodo's head, so that he blinded him. Esmeralda watched helplessly as Frollo then used the cape to swing Quasimodo back over the railing so that he hung by the cape over the abyss.
In doing so, he left himself open to Quasimodo pulling him down along with him, so they were both hanging.
Esmeralda strained over the edge, reaching out for Quasimodo, and pain shot through her the moment he held onto her.
Her foot was lit aflame as she braced herself on it, and desperately fought to hold onto him.
Wicked laughter distracted her from her struggle, and slowly, she turned to see its source.
Frollo, standing atop a drainpipe gargoyle, with his sword prepared to swing, was giving her a still more demonic smile than she'd seen through the smoke and flames.
A single strike from that sword would steal her head from her body, and then it and Quasimodo would fall upon the courtyard.
All for naught.
All her running, all her planning, all the times she had built alliances with the outside world in order to safeguard her people… lost in an instant…
"And He shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit!" Frollo exclaimed, and his words echoed with a chill through her ears.
His sword was poised behind his back, prepared to lop off her head, but something besides Esmeralda's weary bones cracked.
This was surprise enough, as her arms were straining past their breaking point, but Quasimodo had reached out, and given the gargoyle upon which Frollo stood a swift punch.
It had already been crumbling, Esmeralda explained to herself, and it was that one swift, powerful strike which made the stone gargoyle crumble.
It seemed to Esmeralda that the gargoyle came to life, and roared at Frollo as they fell together into the square below.
Quasimodo swung up beside her, a grim expression on his face. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.
Esmeralda took a moment to take stock of herself, her heart racing and her mind refusing to process what she had just seen. "I'm more concerned about you," she croaked at last.
He embraced her gently, as if she were infinitely delicate. "I will never let someone hurt you again," he vowed softly, so despite how weak and over-strained she was, she returned the embrace.
"Sorry I'm late," said the voice of Phoebus from behind them, sheepish but cautiously humorous. "Got room in that hug for a third?"