"Who are you?"
Drizella glanced timidly at the guard in front of the cathedral door, and then stared down at her feet.
"My name's Drizella," she said softly. "I just want to come in and pray and get out of the rain."
The guard studied her for a moment, decided she wasn't a threat, and let her in. As she passed through the heavy wooden doors her eyes struggled to adjust to the massive, dimly lit room within. Gray sunlight filtered through the windows and stretched along the floor in even intervals, and where the room was in shadow candles flickered and gleamed in golden candlestaves. The door shut with a ominous 'bang' behind her; she looked back, wondering if Clopin had been right about Esmeralda coming here. What would happen if she was no where to be found? Would Drizella be trapped in here? How would she find Clopin or Nakoma again? She shuddered as she imagined herself hopelessly wandering the streets of Paris late at night. There was no guarantee that Clopin would save her again.
As the echo from the door faded Drizella heard something else. It sounded like singing, but it was so far away that she couldn't be sure. Steeling herself, she moved forward into the belly of the church. The sound was drawing closer; it was definitely singing, and it was coming from a woman. She slowed as the song enveloped her, ringing through the cathedral pleasantly. As she passed the pillar in front of her the hall widened, and standing in the light from a great colored-glass window was Esmeralda. Her arms were thrown to the sky, her eyes pleading and humble as she half-sung, half-prayed the last words of her song:
"God help the outcasts, children of God."
Drizella stood perfectly still, not daring to breathe and break the spell of the song. She had only caught the last words, but she knew this woman had just poured out her heart and was begging for help in the only place she could. She didn't really know if God was real, or what He was even like. Religion had never been a major topic with her family. Regardless, it gave people something to put their faith in, and she hoped that this would give Esmeralda the encouragement she needed.
"You! Bellringer! What are you doing down here?" Drizella whirled toward the voice; one of the parishioners was pointing toward a pillar to her right, where Quasimodo and Nakoma were standing. The bellringer gasped and jumped, sending a candlestaff tumbling to the floor with a loud, metallic crash. "Haven't you caused enough trouble already?"
Quasimodo turned and ran toward an obscure stone archway; Nakoma quickly followed him.
"Wait!" cried Esmeralda, picking up her skirts as she ran. Her goat bleated in alarm and ran after her. "I want to talk to you!"
Drizella, seeing no other option, chased the trio through the arch and up a long series of winding stone stairs. Once or twice Esmeralda threw a curious glance over her shoulder, but Drizella was too out of breath to do anything but offer a lopsided smile. Her lungs burned, her legs ached, and her face was covered in a film of sweat by the time they reached the top of the stairs. Still the party kept moving, and she forced herself to persevere with the thought of what she would face if she lost them.
After climbing more steps than she could count and running along rooftop corridors, they finally, blessedly, stopped in a large room criss-crossed by ladders and wooden platforms.
"You all have to go back!" Quasimodo turned and faced them, face red from the strain of running. "My master would be furious if he knew you were here."
"You said you would help us!" Nakoma said.
"That was when I didn't have three of you chasing me. There's no way I can sneak all of you out!"
"There would be no way, even with your help," Esmeralda said with a frown. "Frollo has a guard at every door. We can't escape." She turned then to Nakoma. "And I thought I told you to run while you had the chance!"
Nakoma shrugged and grinned sheepishly.
"I wanted to see if I could find some help."
Esmeralda smiled softly.
"I appreciate it, I really do. But now both of us are trapped in here."
A strange silence enveloped them; Drizella glanced from Esmeralda to Nakoma and finally to Quasimodo, who seemed at a loss.
"And who are you?" The bellringer met Drizella's gaze.
"This is my friend, Drizella," Nakoma said.
"I'm sorry for what they did to you," Drizella said to him. "I wish there was something more I could have done to help you."
Quasimodo looked away and smiled.
"It's alright. I feel better knowing there are people who care, anyway." The scared look returned to his eyes. "You all should go. My master could come back any minute."
"He went with some of the guards," Esmeralda said. There was something in her voice, something like malice—or fear. "I don't think he'll be back soon."
"Please let us stay," Nakoma begged. "We can't get out of here anyway. You said so yourself. We're stuck here."
Quasimodo looked at all three of them and gave a sigh of defeat.
"Alright. But only for a little while. And then you have to go somewhere else. Frollo can't see you all up here!"
The three girls smiled at one another.
A few moments later found all four of them gathered around Quasi's carving table. Drizella gently touched the intricate designs on the small model of the cathedral, while Esmeralda picked up two unpainted sculptures and examined them thoroughly.
"Oh, no, please!" Quasimodo cried. "I'm not finished...I still have to paint them."
"It's the blacksmith...and the baker!" Esmeralda giggled. "You're a surprising person, Quasimodo. And not to mention lucky." She gestured around them. "All this room to yourself!"
"Well, it's not just me. There's the gargoyles, and, of course, the bells." His eyes lit up. "Would you all like to see them?"
"Yes, of course," replied Esmeralda. Drizella and Nakoma nodded their agreement. "Wouldn't we, Djali?"
The goat slurped something into his mouth and looked sheepishly up at them.
"Follow me. I'll introduce you."
The three ladies were familiarized with the dames of the bell tower: Little Sophia; the three 'Maries', Jean Marie, Ann Marie and Louise Marie; and then finally 'Big Marie', an enormous bell all four of them could stand beneath.
"Hello!" cried Esmeralda. Her voice reverberated richly within the bell.
"She likes you," Quasi said. "Would you like to see more?"
"Yes, please!" Drizella said.
"How about it, Djali?" Esmeralda turned to her goat, who belched from beneath Big Marie. The sound echoed back as the little creature gazed around the inside of the bell with curiosity. The girls chuckled. "We'd love to," Esmeralda said.
"Good." Quasi smiled. "I've saved the best for last!" He led them outside onto a railed terrace overlooking the city. The sunlight sparkled on the ripples of the Seine as it wound its way through the city and illuminated the buildings beautifully from behind. Drizella forced her mouth closed and took a deep breath as a breeze swept past, whipping her hair back from her face. It felt wonderful, free and pure and new and sprinkled with the scents of warm bread and fresh fruit.
"I bet the king himself doesn't have a view like this," Esmeralda said, leaning on the railing. "I could stay up here forever."
"It is pretty amazing," Nakoma agreed.
"You could, you know," Quasi said in response to Esmeralda.
"No, I couldn't," she said. The smile faded from her face as another breeze tossed her long black locks back.
"Oh, yes, you have sanctuary," he reminded her.
"But not freedom." Her voice suddenly darkened and her eyes grew distant as she turned from the railing. "Gypsies don't do well inside stone walls."
"But you're not like other gypsies. They're..." Quasi searched for the word and said it cautiously, "Evil."
"Who told you that?" Her voice was soft but her gaze was filled with anger and confusion. They sat together on the stone floor of the terrace.
"My master, Frollo. He raised me."
Esmeralda's anger melted and was replaced with pity.
"How could such a cruel man have raised someone like you?"
"Cruel?" Quasi shook his head. "Oh, no. He saved my life. He took me in when no one else would. I am a monster, you know."
The way he said those words, so nonchalantly, broke Drizella's heart. He'd obviously been fed those words for as long as he could remember. They were a lie meant to keep him inside and afraid of the outside world. While she could admit that there were those who would and did hate him because of his appearance, there were also those who could show him kindness and compassion. People like them.
"He told you that?" Esmeralda demanded.
"Look at me," Quasi said, gesturing to himself. Esmeralda ignored him and pointed to his hand.
"Give me your hand," she said, grabbing it before he could protest.
"Why?"
"Just let me see." Drizella and Nakoma both watched curiously as she traced the lines on his palm. "Hmm...a long life line...oh, and this one means you're shy. Hmm. Hmm, hmm, hmm. Well, that's funny."
"What?" Quasi seemed frightened.
"I don't see any."
"Any what?" Quasi asked, staring in dread at his hand.
"Monster lines." She looked up meaningfully into his eyes. "Not a single one." She held out her hand to him. "Now you look at me. Do you think I'm evil?"
"No, no, no!" he said, catching her hand between his. "You are good, and kind, and—"
"And a gypsy," she said. "And maybe Frollo's wrong about the both of us."
Quasi was stunned. Drizella and Nakoma came and knelt by his side.
"I'll say," said Nakoma. "Besides, he called me a gypsy when I'm quite obviously an Algonquin."
Esmeralda chuckled.
"I've never even heard of that word."
"Me, either," said Drizella.
"But really, Quasi, we're here to say we care about you," Nakoma said. "We all know how it feels to be unwanted or the person who's always left out of everything." Her eyes moistened a little. "My best friend was the one everyone talked about. She was so beautiful and so free-spirited, and she even saved our village from war and found someone she really loved. She had everything, but I was always the one in the background. No one really cared what happened to me."
"That's terrible," Quasi said.
"But I'm glad it happened," she continued with a watery smile. "Otherwise I would have never found my way here and met you."
"Yes," added Drizella. "I had a beautiful stepsister who'd lost her father very young. Our mother put her to work, and my sister and I just went along with it. Mother wanted to marry us off to the prince someday, and I knew that she thought our stepsister would be a threat to her plans." She debated on whether or not to use Cinderella's name, but decided since she'd already told Clopin it wouldn't hurt to tell Esmeralda. "But Cinderella still ended up with the prince after everything we put her through. When my sister finally realized how mean she had been to her, Cinderella forgave her and she fell in love with a baker. Then I was the only one left." She sniffled and wiped at her nose, trying desperately not to cry. "It didn't take me very long to realize that I didn't want to be a pawn in Mother's desperate game. So I ran away. Cinderella and Anastasia found me and helped me get here." She suddenly remembered what the princess had told her to do and turned to Esmeralda. "I need to talk to you!"
The gypsy raised an eyebrow.
"That was a sudden change of subject," she remarked.
"I know, but I only just remembered. Cinderella told me I had to find you." Noticing Esmeralda's look of alarm she quickly added, "She didn't tell me your name, only that you were a 'big hit' at the Festival. She thought I'd be safe with you."
"Did she, now?" Esmeralda said after a moment, and then laughed. "I was starting to wonder when I would hear of her again."
"You remember her!" Drizella exclaimed with relief. "I was afraid I'd have to explain the whole thing all over again."
"Wait. You've told someone else?"
"Yes, Clopin. He rescued me earlier and I talked to him about it. I thought perhaps he could bring me to you." She pulled Cinderella's purple pouch out of her dress, but then remembered. "He took the drawing, or I would have that to show you, too."
Esmeralda shook her head.
"That Clopin. He's always so cautious and ready to jump to a bad conclusion." She beamed at Drizella. "But I believe you. I never knew she had sisters."
"Well, none by blood. I wish I'd been a better sister." She frowned. "We could have been good friends."
"By the sound of it, you are now," Esmeralda said. More gently she added, "We can't keep hurting ourselves with the past. Focus on the present and what you have now."
Drizella nodded. "I guess you're right."
Esmeralda heaved a sigh.
"I just wish I could help you. I'd love to take you in. But it looks like we're stuck here." She folded her arms over her knees and rested her head there.
"You helped me," Quasi said after a moment, standing and pulling the women to their feet. "Now I will help you."
"What do you mean?" Drizella asked.
"I can help you get out of here," he said.
"But there's no way out," Esmeralda reminded him. "There's soldiers at every door."
"We won't use a door," he replied matter-of-factly.
"You mean...climb down?" said Esmeralda. Drizella eyed the railing dubiously.
"Sure. You carry him," he said, gesturing at Djali, "and I carry you two."
"You can do that?" Drizella asked incredulously. She then recalled the Festival, where he'd pulled several men off of their feet, and realized he was more than capable of handling their weight. "But how will you climb?"
"You just hang on to me so I can use my arms."
"Okay," said Esmeralda. "Come on, Djali." The goat leapt into her arms, and she wrapped a scarf around his eyes.
"Ready?"
"Yes," replied Esmeralda. Drizella could only nod; her heart was caught in her throat already.
"Don't be afraid," he said as he scooped Esmeralda up and stooped so Drizella could clamber up on his back.
"I'm not afraid," Esmeralda said coolly. Drizella whimpered and clung to his neck. He took a sudden leap from the railing and dangled from the side by one arm. Djali's blindfold fluttered off and down to the city streets below; the goat bleated in fear and scrambled up onto Esmeralda's shoulder. Esmeralda herself was hanging precariously over Quasi's shoulder, her torso laying adjacent to Drizella's.
"Now I'm afraid," she said.
"The trick is not to look down," Quasi replied, and began to run along the gargoyle heads jutting from the side of the cathedral.
"You've done this before?" Esmeralda asked in wonder.
"No," said Quasi casually. Drizella was quite certain that at any moment Quasi would slip and send all three of them crashing to their doom. Esmeralda let out a gasp and then a nervous moan, obviously thinking the same thing.
He finally came to a stop on an angled roof and took deep breaths.
"Wow," Esmeralda said, patting his back. "You're quite an acrobat."
Drizella nodded, but she had no desire to repeat the experience.
"Thank you—" The roof tile they were standing on suddenly broke free, and they went sliding down the roof with sparks flying in their wake. Drizella let out a startled cry; to her dismay, Quasi was yelling, too. Apparently this hadn't been planned. They suddenly hit the roof of a window and went sailing into open air, only to land on a drain canal and skim along its edge. Drizella closed her eyes, knowing it was all going to end here.
But suddenly they'd stopped, and she heard a metallic crash in the background and the shout of guards. Peeking out, she saw that Quasi had caught the head of another gargoyle and they were dangling again. They abruptly dropped again, in between two gables and then again at the foot of a statue near the ground. Drizella thought the stone road had never looked so beautiful as she slid off of Quasi's back.
"Quick! Hide!" Esmeralda whispered fiercely. Quasi pulled her up to the top of the statue and ducked down; Esmeralda stood and posed as part of the statue, pressing her hands together and looking skyward. The guards passed with their torches, never the wiser. As the torchlight left them they clambered down to the bottom of the statue and breathed a sigh of relief.
"I hope I didn't scare you," Quasi said.
"Not for a minute," Esmeralda replied with a soft smile. Drizella smiled too but couldn't bring herself to lie. Neither could Djali, who groaned pitifully.
"Next time, I think I'd rather fight the guards," she said. The trio laughed.
"I'll never forget you, Esmeralda," Quasi said. "And you too, Drizella."
Esmeralda turned his face to her.
"Come with us!" she said. Her eyes were round with delight.
"What?"
"To the Court of Miracles. Leave this place!"
"Oh, no. I'm never going back out there again." He gestured dismissively toward the city. "You saw what happened to me today. No. This is where I belong."
"Alright, then we'll come to see you."
"What? Here? But the soldiers, and Frollo, and..."
"We'll come after sunset."
"At sunset I ring the evening mass, and after that, I clean the kooisters, and then I ring the vespers, and—" Esmeralda cut him off with a short peck on the cheek. Drizella was as stunned as Quasimodo looked. "Whatever's good for you."
Esmeralda pulled a small object from around her neck. With a start Drizella realized it looked just like the drawing. Esmeralda winked at her and handed it to Quasi.
"If you ever need sanctuary, this will show you the way."
"But how?" Quasi asked, examining it warily.
"Just remember," Esmeralda said mysteriously. "When you wear this woven band, you hold the city in your hand."