God Help the Outcasts: A Disney Crossover Fanfic

Chapter Thirteen: God Help The Outcasts

"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!"