January 10

Avalon

The skiff quietly floated back into the grotto in the early dawn light. Griff and Barghest rested as stone within the boat as Arthur and Rory pulled the vessel back up to the shoreline.

"That one didn't take long," Merlin commented quietly.

Arthur shed the layers of cloaks and coats he'd been wearing in Antarctica, as Rory tapped his staff and transformed back into his modern self.

"A simple quest," Arthur replied. "In a very extreme environment."

"Arthur, this is Bridgid and her husband Baron Samedi," Merlin said. "Samedi is one of the Loa, one of the youngest Tribes of the Children. They were formed during the banishment from Avalon, and their membership includes new Children."

He turned toward Bridgid. "And older ones as well."

Bridgid snapped her fingers and her elaborate funeral garb shifted to an Emerald Green dress and a simple straw cross hanging around her neck.

"Oh that Bridgid," Rory gaped as Bridgid shifted back into her funeral outfit again.

"We Children have always had…many identities," Bridgid said quietly. "The Loa may be conceptually new, but our essence is much older. You I think understand this well, Rory Dugan."

"I suppose I do," Rory mused.

"Do you intend to depart again, right away?" Merlin asked.

Arthur glanced at the sleeping forms or Griff and Barghest and sighed heavily.

"Antarctica took quite a toll on their bodies and stone sleep cycles," Arthur replied quietly. "As much I would like very much to keep the quest going and underway…I can't stretch them so thin. They deserve a full day's rest in stone sleep. We shall bivouac until Avalonian sunset."

"Eleven hours and counting," Merlin nodded. "You have a fair bit of time to kill."

"Then might I suggest my father Dagda's court," Bridgid commented. "You were invited after all Rory Dugan. It would make his century if you were to attend. Even if for but a day."

Rory looked at the woods almost longingly, though unsure of exactly what it was he was longing for.

"That seems an excellent suggestion," Arthur said. "Enjoy yourself Rory."

"Oh no," Bridgid said smiling. "You were invited too, Pendragon. It would be rude of you not to show."

"Someone must watch the gargoyles while the sleep," Arthur said. "Not all of the Children are as trustworthy as you milady."

"Oh I can take care of that," Merlin said smirking. "Being here on Avalon, the wellspring of magic, has done wonders for the recovery of my powers."

"Then it is decided, brothers," Baron Samedi said. "The Dagda holds court and we are to attend."

"It's customary to bring a gift to these events," Merlin said, reaching for the cooler that had been loaded onto the skiff, filled with snacks and drinks for the trip. "I believe that this is an Irish brew?"

Merlin pulled a Dalriada Dullahan Dark Ale from the cooler and tossed it to Rory.

"Oh perfect," Bridgid said with a twinkle in her eye.

January 11th

Nightstone Unlimited NYC

"Echanté Mademoiselle," Dr. Anton Sevarius declared as Shari opened the doors to the lab. A blond woman dressed in a black tank top and cargo pants entered with slow purposeful strides, the two men the Arthur and Rory had encountered in Antarctica on her hells. The tall South African man, Robert Tembo, held a metal briefcase in his right hand.

"I was under the impression that we were dealing with you, Anton," Hildegard Helstrom, the blond woman, said. "Not Nightstone Unlimited."

"I assure you," a large dark colored gargoyle with white hair and scarlet eyes stepped out of the shadows. "You are. The good doctor enjoys his freelance work, which I don't begrudge him. But requested use of my company for this meeting, because my security is unmatched."

"May I present Alexander Thailog," Sevarius said. "Owner and CEO of Nightstone, and some of my best work, I might add. He'll be sitting in on this deal. And if I'm in top form, perhaps purchasing some of my wares from the mutate library."

Thailog scoffed.

"Fair enough," Anton turned towards a monitor and flicked it on. "You asked me about the viability of Armored Mutates."

Images of Benny, Erin, Thug, and Natasha appeared on the screen, followed by images of Thug fighting Beast-Folk.

"They were a rousing success," Anton said. "I have a library of sixteen armored animal forms from which to choose from, or you can get a random assortment. A surprise grab-bag if you will."

"I will take thirty-two," Hildy said, glancing over at Shari as she said this. The middle-eastern woman did not react. "For starting with, anyway. Random assortment. Though if Tex or Robert wishes to partake."

"I still ain't sure about this." Tex said.

"It's completely voluntary, Tex," Hildy said. "And in the interests of protecting the Master Race."

"Or enhancing it," Robert said.

Anton stifled a giggle. He knew full well that genetic diversity not stagnation provided the best genetic specimens. But he also knew better that to make dumb arguments in front of paying customers.

"I assure you," Anton said. "Should a mutate choose to breed. The offspring will be 100% human."

The monitor flickered over to an image of Thom Maza being held by his parents Maggie and Talon in the Labyrinth.

Robert's face wrinkled, and Anton rolled his eyes.

"Even better," Hildy said smirking.

"I want in," Robert said. "Rhinoceros DNA please. White Rhinoceros DNA."

Anton stifled yet another giggle.

"Can I…Have a few more minutes to think it over?" Tex asked.

Hildy nodded. Tex turned and bolted out of the room, ducking into the bathroom and shaking. A moment later Shari followed him into the men's room.

"Thirty-Six," he whispered.

"Nine," She replied.

"Five," Hassan-I Sabbah's voice echoed from Shari's cellphone.

"I don't know if I can do this," Tex admitted. "Hildy claims she's getting a gene cleanser from Dr. Frankenstein there. But I think we both know that once you ain't human no more…you ain't going back."

"The choice is, of course, yours Theodore," Hassan said through the phone. "And there's no shame in backing down. No one in the Society would think less of you."

"But I'd be breaking my word," Tex said. "A man's only good as his word."

"Then, if I may," Hassan said quietly. "If you go through this, we will promote you to a 35. And once your current assignment ends, you will receive another promotion to whatever rank you desire assuming that it's available."

"Really?" Tex wondered.

"Yes," Hassan replied. "This comes from Duval himself. He wants someone watching Miss Helstrom at all costs, and you are the ideal person for that job."

Tex took a deep breath and nodded at Shari. She closed the clamshell phone and Tex followed her out and back into the room.

"I was just using the little boys room," Tex yelled as he stormed back in. "I swear no privacy anywhere."

Robert was doubled over on the floor, clutching his head. His skin had turned pale grey and looked like it was cracking.

"All right," Tex said. "I'm in. BLACK-banded Armadillo, please."

He glanced down at Robert, smirking at him.

Anton injected Tex's arm with the mutagen. He could feel his blood begin to boil. And pangs of pain beginning to wrack his body. But he refused to writhe about on the floor like Tembo did. He gritted his teeth and bore it, as the mutation began to overtake his body.

January 12th

Avalon

"You made it!" the Dagda yelped leaping to his feet as Rory and Arthur entered the clearing. It seemed that much of the hardcore partying had abated, many of the Children were sleeping off their drinks from the night before, or in the case of Anansi, enjoying a food coma in a web hammock strung above the buffet.

"An' you brought th' best brew in Ire!" the Dagda said in delight as Rory sheepishly handed the beer to the Lord of the Sidhe. "Oh I'm gonna savor this."

"So…Not just Sidhe then," Rory said glancing over at a caramel-skinned woman dressed in Egyptian cotton and having two nubby cow-horns on her head, as well as a regally dressed man in jaguar skins, whose left leg appeared to be a living snake.

"Oh we've tons of guests from the other Tribes of the Children," the Dagda said. "The Sidhe are generous hosts. Only the Aesir weren't invited. That bearded Cyclops Odin knows what he did."

"You must be…Ganesh?" Rory asked of a tall muscular Child with an Elephant's head.

"Flattered that you think so," He responded in a higher vocal tone than Rory expected from an Elephant god. He sounded like a bookish teenager rather than a rumbling elephant as Rory had expected.

"I am called Tha, the god of the Elephants," he said. "My tribe do dwell in India, and we call ourselves Devas, but it's in homage, just as my form is. We are not true Devas. You will not find Shiva the Destroyer or Vishnu the Preserver on Avalon. The religion of the Hindu people is far older than we are. Far older than the Children of Oberon."

Rory blinked in surprise at that statement, then glanced back at Arthur.

"All Things are True, Lad," the Dagda explained. "Tha be Hindu himself."

"Huh," Rory said. "I never would have thought of…well…the gods as having religious affiliations."

"Well why not?" the Dagda crowed happily. "My lovely daughter Bridgid is quite taken with Patrick's religion. What's it to us? Aren't we all trying to find meaning in this strange Universe? Gargoyle, Human and Oberon's Children alike?"

"I suppose I can't argue with that logic," Rory said. The Dagda gestured towards a nearby chair with a drink resting upon it. Rory nervously took a seat, picking up the beer, which thanks to the enchanted mug was still icy cold, and took a sip.

"Dalriada's brew is better," he commented.

"AGREED!" the Dagda burst out laughing. "Why do you think I be savoring this gift! And you Pendragon? What's your poison?"

"No spirits for me Lord Dagda," Arthur said quietly. "I wish to keep my mind sharp for my quest."

Rory anxiously looked at his own mug.

"No, Sir Rory," Arthur said. "I insist that you enjoy your own drink."

"Designated Driver, eh?!" the Dagda roared in laughter and a number of the still awake Children laughed as well. "All right Once and Future King, what's your NON-Alcoholic poison then?"

Arthur looked somewhat surprised by this request. "I have become rather fond of the modern drink known as 'hot chocolate'" Arthur admitted.

"OH! OH!" The Dagda let out a whoop and looked around. "Is she still here? SHE IS!"

A young woman with light brown skin and rich brown shoulder length hair, with two dark colored eyes skipped forward out of the crowd. She wore an outfit that looked exactly like Obsidiana's and smelled of rich coco beans.

"Arthur Pendragon, Once and Future King," the Dagda said. "May I present Ixcacao: The Mayan Goddess of Chocolate."

Arthur did a double take as she held out a small mug of hot chocolate, with a mound of whipped cream on top, chocolate sprinkles atop the whipped cream, and a single stick of cinnamon sticking out of the whipped cream."

"Your Majesty," Ixcacao said laughing. "I guarantee you will never find a finer brew of hot chocolate in all the world. I am its goddess, after all."

Arthur took a sip of the beverage and for the first time ever in his life, finally understood how ancient heroes ended up having such potent affairs with the Third Race in the days of yore.

"Young Rory," The Dagda turned his attention away from Arthur and turned towards the young Irishman. "Tell me about yourself. Tell me about this you."

January 14th

"It's been four nights since Arthur checked in," Fleur said leaning against a nearby tree.

Kelpie nodded.

"You don't think something's happened to them, do you?" Ty exclaimed.

"You need to calm down, luv," a large dark equine gargoyle with two horns and big bat like wings said, calmly placing his hands on Ty's shoulders.

"More likely Arthur hit the Avalon sunrise," Fleur said. "And decided to hunker down there for a day. We probably won't hear from them again in two weeks."

January 16th

Avalon

"And then after that," Rory said. "I heard an explosion and went to see what it was, and I find Arthur locked in hand to hand combat with Malone. I knew exactly what went down instantly. Arthur was minding his own business, and Malone attacked him cuz he's British."

"Typical," the Dagda laughed. "But don't worry. Pendragon's one of the good 'uns."

Arthur stood up, clutching his head.

"Are you all right?" Ixcacao rushed to his side. "My chocolate is supposed to provide luck and blessings. It shouldn't be giving you a headache."

"I'm fine," Arthur said. "I suppose I haven't had much sleep in the past few nights."

"Should we-," Rory started to say.

"Nay, Sir Rory," Arthur said. "Enjoy thyself. I just…I should rest a bit."

"There's a nap area about 30 paces that way," the Dagda said sympathetically. "If any wood nymphs get too friendly, give 'em a swift kick and they'll leave you alone."

Arthur nodded and staggered out of the clearing, wandering vaguely in the direction that the Dagda had pointed, finding a second clearing with a dozen hammocks, cots, beds and sleeping bags of a dozen sizes and shapes. He noticed a large four-poster bed and sat down on it. Shaking his head.

"I feel bad about that," a familiar voice said. "Her chocolate really does provide blessings you know. But mixing magicks is always a dice role."

Arthur turned his head towards the source of the voice. A young man in his mid-twenties sat on the bed next to him. He was clean-shaven and had long golden hair. He had crystal blue armor with a red emblem of a bowl emblazoned upon his shield. He had a slight glow about him.

Arthur recognized him instantly.

"Galahad?" He whispered in shock.

"In the…well…not flesh exactly," Galahad replied warmly. "Not quite spirit either, but closer. So we'll go with that. In the Spirit, as it were."

"How?" Arthur gaped.

Galahad looked genuinely surprised. "You've been praying nonstop for guidance on this Quest? Did you really think that the prayers would go unanswered?"

Arthur sucked in a deep breath. "Honestly? He's usually a bit more subtle."

"Well you did help by drinking magical hot chocolate that grants blessings," Galahad admitted. "But who better to aid you in the Quest for the Holy Grail than one who has achieved it before?"

January 17th

Paris

"Forgive me Father," Jeanne said quietly. "It has been four nights since my last confession. I know I was absolved before, but I still feel it weighing upon my soul. My role in the attempted assassination of my best friend's friend presses down upon me."

"My child," came the voice of the Priest next to her in the booth. Jeanne immediately recognized that it was not her usual Priest and without hesitation burst her hand through the wicker barricade and grabbed the neck of Father Armand Xavier, aka Armand Jean du Plessis.

"ARMAND," Jean spat, she climbed though what remained of the barricade and shoved him out of the booth. "FOUL STENCH!"

"S—Seventeen," he stuttered.

"Nine," she spat and released her vice grip on his throat. "Where is Father Dupain?"

"AHEM" Armand dusted himself off after she let go. "I transferred him."

She gave him a death glare.

"I am your Priest now," he said. "And your guilt is natural. But the Society…"

"Father Forgive me, I am about to sin," Jeanne said her voice cold as ice. The same voice she used when she was about to enter battle. "For I am going to murder this man masquerading as a Priest."

Armand paled. "Now let's not be hasty my child."

"Yes," Jeanne said. "Definitely going to kill him."

"If you kill me, you'll be branded as a traitor," Armand said. "Duval sent me personally to keep an eye on you. He's wary of your loyalties."

"Then he really shouldn't test them," Jeanne snarled. "Especially with Blasphemy, by sending a false Priest to my confessional booth."

"I am ordained!" Armand protested. "And as such…"

"You would do well not to finish that sentence," Jeanne said. "An ordained man of God should not be dallying with women of the night. And I might just let it slip to the Archbishop of Paris."

Armand regained his composure. "I do what must be done, as must you, my dear. Do not forget your debt to the Society. A man can remain celibate for only so long."

"I have managed to maintain my celibacy for longer than you have been alive, du Plessis. So your words hold no weight to me."

Before du Plessis could say anything more, Jeanne stormed out of the church.

She pulled out her cell phone and opened it, staring blankly at Queen Blanchefleur's number in her Speed Dial. She clenched her jaw tightly for a minute, but then closed the phone, making her way back to her apartment off of the Left Bank.

Across town, near the Eiffel Tower, a nondescript black helicopter took off from a hidden hanger, and slipped into the night. Two people with preternaturally pale skin, an elderly Chinese man and a young Hungarian woman watched it take off.

"They depart," the Chinese man said.

"They live down there," the Countess Elizabeth Bathory said, turning toward her companion; the Ancient Chinese Jiangxi or Chi-Vampire; Quong Po.

"They sleep down there," Quong said. "But they do not live there. They have barracks. They do not consider it to be a home. There is no threshold. We should be able to enter with ease."

"Do you smell that, Quong?" Elizabeth said, completely ignoring him. "That… Intoxicating scent?"

"Must you think of food at a time like this?" Quong pouted. "Our job is to get the Blood Opal from their Vault. Then we can snack."

"You don't understand," Bathory said. "What I smelled wasn't a mere snack…it was a…feast. Something…I've never smelled anything like it. Like…It was like if a virgin had somehow gained immortality and eternal youth."

"No human being if given immortality would remain a virgin." Quong said doubtfully. "It is not in human nature."

"You're probably right," Bathory said wistfully. "It's just the hunger and jetlag talking."

Quong Po paused, sympathetic to his sister in darkness. "We do need to eat," he commented, noticing a young couple strolling underneath the Eiffel Tower nearby.

"I believe that young lady there and her boyfriend will satisfy both of our appetites?"

Bathory followed Quong's gaze, and squealed in delight. "Oh yes! Fourteen is such a…delicious age! Yummy!"

January 18th

Avalon

"So," Arthur asked quietly. "You are…a guide spirit then?"

Galahad nodded. "Only for the duration of the quest. Until you take the Holy Grail from…"

"Sir Percival," Arthur. "You are aware then, of what he has been doing."

"Not until recently," Galahad said, looking down bitterly. "There is no suffering in the Kingdom. That sometimes means that we're not always up to date on everything that happens on Earth."

Arthur nodded quietly.

"I almost wish I hadn't ascended. That I had remained on earth and taken the post of Grail King," Galahad said.

"There is no guarantee that would have changed anything," Arthur said. "Or it could have changed everything. There's no point in dwelling upon the 'what might have beens'. We can only focus on what can change in the here and now."

Galahad blinked and then cleared his throat. "Apologies my king. Seems I had forgotten what regret felt like. Still. I'm meant to advise you, not the other way around."

"Only I can see you then?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," Galahad said as Anubis walked into the rest-clearing. The Jackal god cocked an eye at Galahad.

"No," Galahad amended rolling his eyes. "But it's a very small list. Psychopomps, saints, and a handful of others. Not you new knights. And I can only manifest on Holy Ground. Churches, Synagogues, Cemeteries, or you know…Avalon."

"But in the outside world I would need to seek out chapel or temple to commune with you?" Arthur asked.

"Unless Avalon sends you directly to the Holy Land, yes, pretty much,": Galahad replied.

Arthur nodded, but then quietly smiled. "It will be an honor to Quest beside you again, Sir Galahad."

"The honor is likewise mine, your majesty?" Galahad grinned back.

January 17th

Paris

Mist seeped out of the street vents near the Eiffel Tower and coalesced into the form of Elizabeth Bathory. She smiled at Quong Po and held up a bright red opal.

"I'm surprised that you didn't trigger any of their clockwork wards," Quong commented.

"Pish-post, Quong Po. You know as well as I do that mechanical eyes cannot see our kind. I believe that this is what we came for?" She answered.

Quong gingerly took the opal and closed his eyes, softly speaking in Cantonese. The Chinese Symbol for Chi appeared above the Opal.

"This is indeed the Blood Opal our dark Master sent us to retrieve," Quong said grinning back to her.

"You know he doesn't like you to call him 'Master"," Bathory said softly. "No matter how willing we are to serve him, he likes as his equals, not his minions."

Quong nodded. "Our Brother in Darkness then."

"That, he would like," she said. Then she paused, as the breeze shifted. "Tell me you don't smell that? That…Unblemished purity!"

"No," Quong said, turning in the direction that Bathory was facing. "I do sense it. Not a scent…A Chi. A Chi of purity and grace and…Chastity. One centuries old."

The two of them looked at each other in pure shock. Then Quong glanced down at the Opal in his hand.

"Our objective was simple retrieval," Quong said. "Which we have now accomplished. Now…"

"Now we should reward ourselves," Bathory said, licking her lips hungrily.

"We should proceed with caution," Quong said. "But yes, I agree."

January 22nd

Avalon

The sun was low in the Avalonian sky as Arthur and Galahad returned to the glen where the Sidhe had been holding court. With the Children having rested up for the day, they were starting to awaken, and the party was beginning anew, though with new guests from other pantheons cycling in, and other guests, such as Anansi and Ixcacao departing.

"What's happening thar?" Rory asked as Bridgid quietly handed him a mug of tea. Rory blinked as he took a sip…he was fairly certain that the tea had just nullified the buzz from the drink he'd been nursing throughout the day.

"Oh I'm not the only Vassal holding court on Avalon," the Dagda said. "Tons of parties hosted all across the island. Even the Children can't be in two places at once, and everyone wants to attend every party. Multiple times if possible."

"Sir Griff and Barghest will be awakening soon," Arthur said. "We should be back at the skiff to greet them. I thank you for the invitation, Lord Dagda; it is not likely we should be invited to the courts of the Children again soon."

"Oh aye," he acknowledged, as Set and Horus arrived in the glen, and appeared to be bickering. "There were special circumstances. I am glad that Lu-AHEM—That the reincarnation of the Hound has fallen in with your lot again."

"Goodness gracious that man looks just like Gawain," Galahad commented. Baron Samedi smirked at the knight knowingly, but said nothing.

"What ever your Quest may be, Pendragon; I know the lad will be a boon to you. It's why he…AHEM…Nostalgia is a dangerous thing for an immortal. But you look after each other, you hear?"

"We shall," Arthur said as Rory stood up to join him. The king and two knights—though Rory was oblivious to Galahad's presence—made their way back to the skiff.

They passed Ixcacao on the pathway, who winked at Arthur, who then coughed and bowed politely. By the time that they made it back to the skiff, the sun was almost completely down.

Merlin stood nearby in the form of a stag, standing vigilantly in front of the boat. He shifted back to his human form as he saw Arthur and Rory approaching.

"And the wizard hasn't aged a day either," Galahad said smirking.

"Good to see you back," Merlin commented, and Galahad looked surprised, not sure if Merlin could see him or not. He waved his hand in front of Merlin's face but the wizard ignored him—or couldn't see him. Neither Galahad nor Arthur was sure.

There was a cracking sound and with triumphant roars, Griff and Barghest awakened on the skiffs and stretched.

"Sir Griff," Arthur said out loud. "My first Knight since awakening in this world, and one of the noblest that the Round Table has ever seen, save perhaps…Sir Galahad himself."

"You flatter me sire," Griff and Galahad said in unison.

"To be compared with a noble gargoyle," Galahad commented.

"To be compared with THE Galahad," Griff said at the same time.

"Is humbling," they said in unison again.

Galahad blinked and started laughing.

"You're going to give him a big head," Merlin smirked.

Griff rolled his eyes and then pinched his left arm. Merlin flinched his own left arm and then shot Griff a dirty look.

Arthur cleared his throat, clearly disapproving. "Most of the time anyway. Let's not tarry any longer. I'm certain that Fleur and the others are worried about us."

Griff helped Arthur and Rory board the skiff as Merlin shapeshifted into an Eagle owl and flew off. They launched the skiff from the docks and the mist began forming around them.

Galahad, who had boarded the skiff on his own, glanced at his hands. "Oh this is a strange sensation…"

Galahad then shimmered and appeared to be sucked into Arthur's scabbard. Arthur glanced at the scabbard in surprise.

"Something wrong your majesty?" Griff asked.

"Nay," Arthur shook his head. He glanced over at Rory. "How was court with the Sidhe?"

"Nostalgic," Rory commented, shaking his head. "Though I haven't the faintest idea why. Cu didn't exactly…I don't know. It was…Like Dagda said. Nostalgic."

Arthur nodded.

"You wouldn't happen to know, why, would you?" Rory asked.

Arthur shook his head. "No…But Merlin might. You should ask him when we return to Avalon."

"Assuming he's still there," Griff said. "He's supposed to take one of the skiffs out himself at some point. That was the plan."

"He still needs to reconnect with some of the other Children with whom he was on good terms with," Arthur said. "A task just as important as whatever Avalon has in store for us. And one that could take some time."

"Speaking of," Rory said, pointing up as the mists cleared, and Notre Dame Cathedral loomed overhead. "Paris."

"And the sun's about to come up," Griff said, rolling his eyes towards the east. "We JUST woke up."

"Avalon will likely correct for your jetlag," Arthur said, knowing how much Griff hated jetlag. The once and future king wasn't particularly fond of the human variant either.

Griff nodded. "Assuming that seeing the sun rise doesn't do it. I was indoors in New Orleans and Paris during the jetlag events. Didn't actually see the sun rise either time. Barghest and I will roost on Notre Dame. We won't be noticed."

"Rory and I will make our way to the Eiffel Tower," Arthur said. "As well as make contact with Lady Canmore's warriors. Likely Avalon brought us back to Paris to aid them in some fashion."

Griff nodded, and then began climbing out of the skiff and up the walls of the Cathedral. Barghest quickly followed.

"Queen Blanchefleur hasn't pinged us like when we arrived in Guatemala," Rory commented.

"It has been 12 days since we last communicated," Arthur said. "Kelpie is probably getting ready to roost, and Fleur is probably just waking up to take over the day shift."

As if in response to their thoughts, Arthur's LexPhone started ringing.

"Fleur?" Arthur tapped the screen and the white haired queen appeared.

"Oui!" Fleur exclaimed excitedly though apparently groggily. "I see you are in Paris!"

"Aye," Arthur commented. "I'm going to attempt to make contact with the Redemption Squad forthwith, but Sir Griff is obviously about to be indisposed by the hour."

"Oui," Fleur said, taking a sip of Nightstone's coffee. "I'll see if I can get a hold of her as well."

"Rory and I could probably use a respite too," Arthur said. "We've been awake for some 36 hours or more. Can you arrange an inn for us?"

This was part of why Fleur had opted to remain behind with Kelpie as tech support. Though Arthur had adapted quite well to the modern world, there were still some things that he struggled with. The ability to coordinate hotels had been a skill that Fleur had picked up in the fashion industry.

"I can do you one better," Fleur said smiling. "You can use my Paris flat. It's quite spacious and has multiple guest rooms. My assistant will bring you the keys."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jeanne was still a farm girl at heart, even after 6 centuries. It was part of why she was so fond the author Mark Twain, who once wrote a biography on her. She was so flattered and pleased by the Biography that she took his name as her nome de plume when Fleur had founded her company at the turn of the last century.

Mark Twain, whose real name was Samuel Clemens; so Jeanne was Samantha Clemens. She found it delightfully cleverer than some of her fellow Illuminati's pseudonyms. 'Watson Doyle'? James Moriarty was supposed to be as clever as Sherlock Holmes, and he chose 'Watson Doyle"?

But as a farm girl, even an immortal one, Jeanne was always up at the crack of dawn to get to work. She was a warrior and no matter what battlefield she chose—whether helping the French Resistance during the Second World War, helping the Scarlet Pimpernel sneak former French Aristocrats out of France during the French Revolution, or dealing with vicious sharks of the fashion world, Jeanne met each day with gusto.

So she was already dressed and getting ready to depart for work when her phone rang.

FLEUR the caller ID said.

Jeanne swallowed. She hadn't spoken directly with her boss—and her best friend—since September. Not since Duval had used her to delay Fleur. What the former Grail Queen thought of Jeanne since that moment was beyond her. She steadied herself for a moment, and then opened her phone.

"Jeanne!" Fleur's voice exclaimed happily from the other end. Jeanne felt her guilt well up even more.

"Samantha Clemens speaking," Jeanne replied quietly.

"Listen," Fleur said. "I have some friends who dropped into Paris quite unexpectedly. I offered them access to my flat for their stay. Can you nip over there and give them the keys?"

"You…don't want to talk about what happened in September?" Jeanne confessed in surprise.

"I know Duval put you up to it," Fleur said. "And that he probably didn't tell you why. But I am not angry nor upset with you Jeanne."

"You SHOULD BE!" Jeanne exclaimed angrily.

"No Jeanne," Fleur said softly.

Jeanne quietly regained her composure. "Of course Madam. I will be at your flat presently with the keys. Do you need anything else from me?"

"I need my friend back," Fleur said quietly.

That was too much for Jeanne, and she snapped the cell phone shut, before snatching a set of keys off a peg by her apartment door; and bolting out the door.

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Jeanne actually lived in the same apartment building. Fleur's apartment was in fact, the penthouse. So what Jeanne had to do was take the elevator to the 16th floor and wait in the hallway for Fleur's guests to arrive. There were actually three penthouse apartments in the building, and Fleur owned all three. She'd offered one to Jeanne some time back, but she'd declined. Opting for a more modest sized apartment on the 5th floor.

She stood in the hallway by the door to Apartment #16A facing the elevator doors and waited. About twenty minutes later and the doors opened. A tall bearded man in a blue trench coat and a young man in his twenties with reddish-brown hair stepped out.

Jeanne froze for a moment, realizing at once exactly who was standing in front of her. She'd never met him, but she'd been in the presence of royalty many times in her life. She knew nobility when she saw it. She silently cursed Fleur, feeling somewhat betrayed and then stiffened, taking on her professional persona immediately.

"Bonjour, Monsieur," she said, keeping her voice even. "I am Mlle. Clemens, Miss Blanchefleur's personal attaché. I have the keys to her flats here for your use."

"Our gratitude, Mlle. Clemens," King Arthur replied in perfect French, surprising Jeanne slightly. "Fleur has spoken of you quite fondly."

Jeanne, swallowed, wondering just what the Grail Queen had told the Once and Future King, but politely handed the keys to him just the same.

"My number is on the refrigerator if you need anything, gentlemen," Jeanne said. "If you will excuse me, I must head to work now."

Jeanne walked to the elevator without looking back, and breathed a sigh of relief when the doors closed.

"Some warrior," she muttered to herself. "Couldn't even look him in the eye."

She shook her head as the doors opened again on the ground floor. As she stepped out of the elevator, her phone began ringing. She pulled it out and looked at.

DUVAL

She stared blankly at the name, glancing up at the ceiling where she now knew Arthur Pendragon, the man on Duval's most wanted list, was.

Fleur trusted her enough to let her know this information. Information that was invaluable to the Society.

She hit the IGNORE button on her phone and pocketed the device. Immediately hailing a taxi as she stepped out of the building.

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Arthur watched Samantha Clemens leave with great interest. Years in the courts of Camelot had trained his eyes. He immediately recognized Jeanne's warrior stance as he had exited the lift, and even more interestingly, he noticed that she had avoided eye contact with him during the entire exchange.

He and Sir Rory entered the main apartment, and Rory whistled in appreciation.

"Nice," he murmured.

Arthur agreed, one of the things that he had enjoyed about the late 20th early 21st centuries since arriving had been the significant jump in the standard of living. Royalty of his day didn't have it half as good as some of the middle class flats he'd visited in London. And this was significantly several steps above that.

"I am going to take a shower and change clothes," Rory sat patting his duffel bag. "I smell like a Mayan Jungle mixed with an Irish brewery."

Arthur's LexPhone rang, and he immediately answered it, Fleur's face appearing on the screen.

"I got in touch with the Redemption Squad," Fleur said. "They're in Tokyo at the moment. Not anywhere near Paris."

"So whatever Avalon needs us here for," Arthur said. "It has nothing to do with them."

"So it would seem," Fleur replied. "Sir Rory, you can use the guest room on the right side of the flat. Arthur, you may use my room on the left side. Both have fully equipped bathrooms and water closets. Also if you'd like, the building has a full laundry service. If you want to get some of your clothes washed."

"It's like she's psychic," Rory said, glancing at his jeans.

"Just well traveled," Fleur replied.

"Maybe Avalon just wanted to give us a break?" Rory suggested.

Arthur shook his head. "Not during the Grail Quest. No. We are here for a significant purpose. It is just luck that we have an opportunity to refresh ourselves."

"Nevertheless," Fleur replied. "An opportunity you should take."

Arthur nodded. "We bathe and rest, and reconnect with Sir Griff at sunset."

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Jeanne exited Sangral Fashions and her phone started ringing.

FLEUR

"You know you blindsided me this morning," Jeanne said irritably.

"Would you rather I have Sadie deliver the keys to Arthur?" Fleur asked innocently.

Jeanne shuddered involuntarily. The thought of the klutzy intern doing an important job like that mad her skin crawl.

"No," Jeanne immediately amended. "As usual, you made the correct choice."

"Is that so?" Fleur asked innocently.

Jeanne knew what Fleur was fishing for. What she wanted her to say.

"I am attending evening mass, Madam Blanchefleur," Jeanne said, trying to even out her voice. If it had been anyone else, they might have been fooled.

"Mmmm-hmmm," Fleur said. "Have a good night Miss Clemens."

Jeanne took a deep breath and headed in the opposite direction than she usually did for mass.

Jeanne believed that worship was personal, between her and God. The Illuminati had no business sticking their noses into it. For this reason she rotated through several Catholic Churches throughout Paris. Always in a random order, without any pattern.

But if her Confession the other night was any indication, the Society had somehow gotten wise to her Sanctuaries in spite of her precautions. Which is why tonight, Jeanne was going to attend mass at the one church the Society would never expect. The one church in Paris that she hadn't actually attended in over two centuries.

Our Lady.

Notre Dame Cathedral.

The most famous church in France if not the World. Jeanne never attended mass there. With the eyes of the World on the Cathedral, that included the All Seeing Eye. But the if the Society was specifically looking for her at her places of worship…Then Notre Dame Cathedral was the once place they'd never think to look for her.

She quietly slipped into the church and sat in the back as the service began. Her quiet prayers lasted well past the evening service when everyone had cleared out of the church. In turn she eventually stepped out of the Cathedral and into the cool evening air. The sky was a deep rich blue, with the sun sinking below on the western horizon of Paris, and a fine mist hung in the air around the church.

It was a beautiful, picturesque scene. But Jeanne was instantly on guard; reaching into her purse and gripping the switchblade she kept in there. It was too quiet and there were no tourists around anywhere. An impossible situation in Paris. Unless something or someone had warded them away.

She sniffed the air and recognized the scent of death on the mist.

She smiled to herself and closed her eyes.

"Do think yourself to be the first Revenant that I have encountered in 500 years of life?" Jeanne asked. "I have killed more of your kind than there are statues on the Cathedral. Tread lightly beast. I give you this one chance to turn away, and seek other prey. You will not find me palatable."

The mist around her coalesced behind her, forming into a stately dark haired woman.

"I assure you, you have never faced a vampyre quite like myself," Bathory replied.

Jeanne shook her head. "Elizabeth Bathory. The Countess who bathed in the blood of virgins. I might have known. I believe that the nature of your Revenant Curse requires that your victims always be virgin women, yes?"

"You are remarkably well informed," Bathory replied, circling Jeanne like a hungry shark. "Which leads me to believe that you have been informed by…The Enlightened Society, yes? The cabal of immortals that drink from the Holy Grail? This explains your age, though not why you chose to remain chaste."

"It is no mystery," Jeanne gestured towards the Cathedral. "I am devout, and I am unmarried."

"After so many centuries though?" Bathory said. "It is still surprising. You would think a pretty thing such as yourself would give into temptation at least once."

"I assure you now monster," Jeanne said shaking her head. "I am not palatable to your dark lusts, monster. Go now before I kill you."

"Your Society dilutes the Grail water," Bathory said. "It is impure and thus no longer Holy. I fed on members of your little clubhouse before. And I assure you; a virgin as old as you are is the feast of a lifetime. I cannot pass you up."

"I was hoping you might say that," Jeanne said pulling out her switchblade and tossing the purse aside. "I relish the opportunity to rid the world of one of its most depraved Vampires."

Bathory smiled and suddenly the mist coalesced again; this time into four terracotta warriors, who lunged at Jeanne.

"What?" she said, taken completely by surprise, but her battle instincts kicking in as the terracotta statues attempted to grab her. She ducked out of their grip and rolled to the side, trying to figure where these clay golems had come from.

She received her answer a moment later, as more mist coalesced into the form of an older Chinese man on the Cathedral steps. Along with four more walking terracotta statues, who began moving towards her.

Jeanne was now recalculating. While she was one of the greatest warriors and tacticians in French history, she was still very outnumbered. This was not a fight she could win by herself. She considered the Seine to her left. Both Western Vampires and Jiangxi couldn't cross running water under their own power, but they had made it to the Cathedral so there was little guarantee that jumping in the river would slow them down enough to allow for an escape.

"Since when to Eastern and Western Vampires hunt together?" Jeanne asked, attempting to distract the two of them.

"You are not my type," Quong Po said scoffing. "I only offer aid to my sister in darkness."

Well that was even more baffling. Since when do any vampires help each other? Jeanne thought. Two terracotta warriors grabbed her arms and began dragging Jeanne towards Elizabeth Bathory

"I'm going to enjoy this," Bathory said smiling, her eyes turned red and she bared her fang.

"HUR-ROOOOOOOOOOOOOARRRR!" the sound of a gargoyle roar echoed in the courtyard in front of the Cathedral, as Sir Griff and Barghest awaken from stone sleep above them.

Jeanne was dumbfounded. How had she not noticed two extra gargoyles atop the Cathedral this evening?

Griff, for his part immediately soaked in the scene below him and fired his Lightning Gun at Bathory, sending her reeling across the courtyard. The British gargoyle swooped down and landed atop one of the terracotta warriors holding Jeanne prisoner.

Barghest leapt down on another two warriors from atop the church and send shards of terracotta flying everywhere.

"Merci beaucoup, gargouille," Jeanne said genuinely.

"The honor is mine, Milady," Griff said, punching the other soldier holding her in the face, releasing her from its vice like grip. That's when Griff locked eyes with Quong Po.

"YOU!" Griff and Po said at the same time.

Griff snatched his LexPhone out of his belt holster and tapped it with his thumb.

"Your Majesty, this is Sir Griff," Griff said calmly. "Requesting backup at Notre Dame Cathedral. It's Quong Po!"

"Quong Po?" Arthur's voice responded from the device. "The Eastern Vampire? Was not he buried underneath a literal mountain?"

"He's out! And he brought his terracotta friends," Griff said grimly.

"He's not alone," Jeanne said. "Another vampire is with him. Elizabeth Bathory."

"Vampires hunting in cooperation?" Arthur sounded as surprised as Jeanne had been ten minutes earlier.

"Quickly your majesty," Griff cried out, and hung up his phone.

"If you knew who I was," Jeanne said. "You would not save me."

Griff turned and looked at the girl in surprise.

"You are Sir Griff," Jeanne said. "Arthur's first knight. When you were last in Paris, the Illuminati had me waylay Queen Blanchefleur. I could have been responsible for your death. You are within your rights to abandon me gargouille."

Griff looked genuinely surprised for a moment, and then gave his trademark rakish grin.

"Disagree," Griff said. "Knight of the Round Table. Rescuing a damsel in distress is part of the job description. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"You do not seem to understand," Jeanne started to say.

"Disagree again," Griff grinned. "I understand perfectly. Now…In for a penny, in for a pound. Barghest, guard her!"

The black beast snarled and leapt to Jeanne's said, as Griff surged towards the Chinese vampire.

Barghest suddenly snarled and flailed wildly, before being knocked aside by thick almost-solid mist.

Bathory coalesced directly behind Jeanne.

"At last!" she whispered. "My feast!"

Bathory bit down on Jeanne's neck before she had a chance to react.

Griff had just punched Quong Po in the face and picked up his glass orb with the Earth icon on it, and shattered it in his talon when he heard Jeanne cry out. The British Gargoyle's eyes glowed white, but it was too late.

Bathory suddenly released her prey and screamed, staggering away from Jeanne, who was now quite pale.

"Told you I wasn't palatable," Jeanne coughed, collapsing.

"What…what have you done, what is this?" Bathory's eyes suddenly glowed blue for a second and she screamed.

"You bit off more than you could chew, Bathory," Jeanne coughed again. I did warn you."

"I have consumed Grail Drinkers before," Bathory protested. "This…this is different?"

"I take it you've never attempted to feed on a Saint before?" Jeanne was coughing repeatedly, but smiling.

"Who are you?" Bathory whimpered.

"Should have asked that before you tried to feed on me," Jeanne countered. "I am the Maid of Orleans. I am the winner of the battle of Patay. I am the heretic of England. I am Saint Jeanne d'Arc!"

"What have you done to me?" Bathory demanded.

"You consumed my blood," Jeanne said. "Which is infused with Divine magic, allowing me visions of the future. Such visions a potent and…draining. These days I suppress them with drugs…but I'd wager that the drugs are useless on an undead body. So you are being bombarded with visions of the future."

Bathory staggered a few feet.

"An unholy monster such as yourself cannot survive direct contact with Holy Magic," Jeanne said. "I die happily, knowing that I rid the world of one of your kind."

Jeanne then collapsed.

"No, no!" Griff yelped, dropping Quong and rushing to her side.

Bathory suddenly exploded and a pile of charred bones tumbled to the ground in front of them.

Quong Po let out a yelp of horrified protest. He reached into his robes and pulled out a second Earth Orb. The terracotta warriors moved towards Griff and Jeanne, only to be shattered apart in one sweeping motion as the Spear of Light lanced through and shattered the warriors apart.

Cú Chullain rushed to Barghest's side as Arthur ran to Griff and Jeanne's.

"You feed on life energy," Arthur said, pointing Excalibur at Quong Po. "Can you save her?"

"Can you salvage a dumpling that you have taken a bite out of by putting the piece of food back?" Quong Po sneered. "Emphasis is on the word FEED. I can't save this creature."

"Great," Griff said. "Then there's no reason not to chop your head off."

Quong glanced at Bathory's remains as Arthur raised his blade.

"Wait…" he said. "I can't…give her Chi that I've eaten. But I can serve as a conduit for a Chi transfusion. If one of you volunteers, I can transfer usable Chi from one of you into her…"

"I'll do it," Griff said. Quong shook his head.

"Wrong species," the Chi vampire said.

Cú slammed the Spear down and transformed back into Rory.

Quong sighed heavily. "You're out too. Mixing magicks would definitely kill her."

"Then it must be me," Arthur said. "Take what you need to save her. And you have my oath that you will walk away this night."

"But if either of them dies," Griff grabbing Quong and pressing his Lightning Gun to Quong Po's temple.

"Then we figure out just how to kill ya," Rory said, slamming his staff and transforming again.

Quong swallowed. "Acknowledged. For the sake of discretion…I will have to take a little Chi for myself, or I won't have enough energy to pull this off."

Griff nodded. Arthur held out his arm to Quong as the Chi vampire placed one of his lamprey hands on The Once and Future King, and one on The Maid of Orleans.

Cu pressed the Spear of Light to Quong's head as Griff did the same with his Lightning Gun.

"Difficult to concentrate with weapons against me head," Quong protested.

"Tough," Griff and Rory said simultaneously.

Purple energy surrounded Arthur and began flowing through Quong and into Jeanne. Arthur's brown hair slowly grayed while Jeanne's pale skin became healthy again.

Jeanne suddenly gasped and said bolt upright.

"That's enough," Griff said,

Quong Po released the two of them. "Am I free to go now?"

Griff growled, his eyes flickering white.

"Yes," Arthur said weakly. "He kept his word. We will keep ours."

Griff released his grip on the vampire, who began chanting in Ancient Chinese. In a flash he vanished.

"You…sacrificed yourself…for me?" Jeanne stared at Arthur.

"Any friend of Fleur's…" Arthur said, before shuddering and toppling over. Cu and Griff immediately caught him.

"I can help him," Jeanne said. "Help me get him back to Fleur's flat."

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Quong watched them leave from the shadows and then rushed over to Bathory's remains. He held up the Blood Opal and held it over the bones. Moonlight passed through the opal and shone onto the bones. The Blood Opal began glowing, and the dust and bones began swirling around each other.

There was a flash of red light and Elizabeth Bathory gasped and reappeared from her dust and bones.

"The good news is that the Blood Opal works," Quong Po said. "It restores undeath to the slain undead. Unfortunately…"

"Unfortunately you drained it using it on me," Bathory said as Quong helped her up. "Can it be…reset?"

"Doubtless," Quong said. "But I don't know the ritual to do so. Hopefully our Brother in Darkness does. Will he be angry with us?"

"Worse," Bathory said shaking her head. "He will be…disappointed."

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Griff and Cú helped carry a weak and drained Arthur into Fleur's apartment. Jeanne quickly ducked into the washroom, opening and examining the medicine cabinets.

"Ah," she said, and grabbed a very nondescript looking bottle from the bottom shelf. She opened it and pulled out to blue colored gelatin tablets. They were all that remained. She quickly popped one into her own mouth and swallowed it, before rushing back out to the living area where Arthur lay quietly on the couch.

"He needs to take this," Jeanne said. Griff nodded. They quickly approached Arthur and Jeanne bent down and opened his mouth. She placed the pill on his tongue and closed it, before taking a step back.

"This shouldn't take long," Jeanne said.

Arthur blinked, as color began to return to his cheeks, and his beard. He groaned and stood up.

"That was one of the Grail pills, wasn't it?" Griff said. Jeanne nodded. "I don't keep any in my apartment. But Fleur does. For emergencies."

"You have my gratitude Miss Clemens," Arthur said.

"Non," Jeanne said quietly. "You have mine. For opening my eyes. Would you please come with me?"

Jeanne led them to a small study just off the main room.

"Wait there," Jeanne quietly stepped into the study as Arthur, Griff, and Rory waited by the entrance.

Jeanne picked up a remote and pressed it. Three screens lowered from the ceiling. Tenzin Chung, Mustapha, and Mycroft Holmes appeared on the screens.

"Nine," Jeanne said.

"Three," Tenzin and Mycroft said in unison

"Four," Mustapha echoed.

"What is the meaning of this interruption Miss Clemens," Mycroft asked. "This line is meant for Upper Echelons."

"No Duval today?" Jeanne asked.

"He's occupied," Tenzin said. "You haven't answered the question."

"I was hoping he would be here for this," Jeanne said. "But no matter. You'll do. I hereby tender my resignation to the Illuminati Society. I've put up with your evil for long enough."

"Surprising," Tenzin said, looking slightly amused. "But why do you feel the need to tell us this?"

Jeanne glanced at the door to the study.

"Because I now pledge fealty to the last person I ever expected. A British King. I see now what Fleur wanted me to see. What I should have always seen. If he will have my, pledge my banner to Arthur Pendragon, and enter his service as a Knight of the Round Table."

Jeanne bent down and kneeled.

"You would be welcome," Arthur said, stepping into view of the screens. Tenzin and Mustapha looked mildly surprised, while Mycroft just smiled.

"With this sword and by my hand," Arthur said. "I re-dub the, Jeanne d'Arc, Maid of Orleans, Knight of the Round Table. The Saintly Knight."

"Wait," Rory said looking confused…."Did…Did he just say that she was Joan of Arc?!"

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Knight's Spur

Kelpie was looking over some files on her computer as Fleur sat next to her, reading a book.

There was suddenly a flash of light from the nearby Round Table.

"Arthur's dubbed a new knight," Fleur said, putting her book down and approaching the table.

A moment later a loud sob erupted from Fleur's mouth.

"Queen Blanchefleur?" Kelpie asked urgently.

"These aren't sad tears, Kelpie," Fleur said. "I haven't been this happy in eight decades!"

Lady Jeanne d'Arc

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January 23rd, Paris

"Trust me, my liege," Jeanne said as they loaded into the skiff. "I'm much more useful to you on the outside. There are others like me. Other's who secretly question the Society's value. Give the opportunity to find them and recruit them to your cause."

"Be careful," Arthur said. "They view you as an enemy now. Do not take that lightly. They do not view you as indispensable as they do myself or Merlin."

"You have my oath," Jeanne said quietly.

Arthur nodded and launched the skiff. Jeanne watched the mists rise up and surround the small boat, and in a heartbeat, they vanished.

Jeanne quickly pulled out the LexPhone Arthur had provided her with. She had ditched her old phone last night after her defection, but not before transferring all of her contacts through to the new device.

She tapped one a bit lower on the list. Hopefully not everyone in the Society had caught wind of her desertion yet.

"George!" she said rifling though her purse as she heard the voice on the other end. "Oui! It has indeed been some time. Listen, I have a question for you. Have you ever heard of a Kyongshi named Quong Po? No? Neither had I. But last night, he attacked me alongside Elizabeth Bathory. I dispelled the attack but I thought that the Society's expert on Vampires ought to know about this."

Jeanne pulled out her prescription bottle of clozapine.

"Unprecedented. That's kind of what I thought," she chewed on her lip as she looked at the bottle.

"No, you're right, I SHOULD consult with Mina. In fact, I need to talk to her about an unrelated matter anyway, Might as well kill two birds with one stone. Merci beaucoup George. You've been exceptionally helpful."

Jeanne quietly chucked the bottle into the Seine.

Never the end…

This Chapter of the Grail Quest is dedicated to the People of Paris and to Notre Dame Cathedral. In our Hearts and in our Prayers.