15th July 2009, Monday, 11:13

Dante's house

Cannareggio

Venice, Italy

I feel like this whole 'I hate Mondays' thing was invented for a serious scientific reason. Elsewhere why on earth does most of the things happen to me on that forsaken day?! I may sound a total loser saying so, but it's just how shitty I've felt since waking up.

I have a weird feeling that I've made a fool of myself, crossing Sophie so openly. The only thing I achieved that way was not an immense satisfaction from cutting her down to size, but her constant vigilance and careful observation from then on. She's just a young chick, but unluckily, she's got brains. I'm afraid she might actually put two and two together and discover some nasty details about me that I'd rather not reveal to the Foundation. Well, she's been prejudiced towards me right from the start, due to her jealousy about Dante, so I don't know if any of my efforts to win her sympathy would work, but… it would be better to befriend her than to make her my enemy anyway. Now it's too late; she hates my guts and as long as I'm in close proximity to Dante, it's not gonna change. I have to admit I screwed this part up.

Although I did succeed in certain matters. I sucked up to Vale and his team a little. The sole fact that Dante invited me to his house speaks volumes of how he considers me a valuable ally. Or else, it's just a stupid habit of his to invite random people to roam through his personal space. Everyone has their fetishes; I'm not judging. After all, thanks to that I acquainted myself with the habitat of my prey. This Vale guy resides pretty nicely… Even the thought of that pinches me with jealousy. A three-floor house in the elegant Venice district, the rooms furnished as if they were from the furniture store's catalogue… Such a housing could be the only thing that I would consider worth toiling over to be the Foundation number-one prodigy! I should add a provision to my contract saying that when I succeed with the mission, I demand getting his apartment. I could use some nice housing after residing in Prague headquarters with a bunch of other Suits, or Klaus' laboratory, which resembles a nest of critters and creepy-crawly rather than a normal mansion.

Unfortunately, I didn't manage to go through this whole fortress from basement to the attic, 'cause someone was constantly keeping an eye on me. It was not likely that they would leave me alone even on my way to the loo. I had to stay calm and natural, as if my hands weren't itching to rummage through every single drawer. Oh well, let's just make it in order. At first I seized his living room. Soon, I hope, I will conquer his bedroom. And then (finally!) the hiding places where he hoards Huntik secret data.

It seems even easier given that as the crowning achievement of my visit, I got the indefinite invitation to Vale's 'humble' place. I'm going to make use of it now. I don't care if he gave it only because it was proper to say so or if he really wanted to have me as his guest again. I won't waste such a chance. Even if hanging out with those shitheads is the last thing I'd like to do.

I run up the stairs lightly and make a quick knock to the door. No reaction. So I shrug and come in without any scruples. After all, he told me himself to feel at home.

A talk comes from the living room. Of course, the kids are already bothering him. I almost feel pity for this dude. But he deserves it. Now, suffer if you can't be assertive.

I listen out if anyone would come to the door, but they're lost in their conversation. No one even heard me knocking and opening the door. Maybe I should make use of it? If I manage to go past the living room entrance unnoticed, the rest of the house will stand open for me… I skulk through the hall on tiptoes, holding my breath. I'm almost going to pass the most dangerous spot, when…

'Hey, look, it's picking up Zhalia!'

Damn it. The blonde must always screw everything up! Now I have no choice. I straighten up and walk into the room in a normal, graceful pace, taking my spot next to the entrance.

'Boys and their toys', I comment acrimoniously, observing the house's mock on the holotome, with our silhouettes concentrated in one place. No wonder they detected me. Hm, such a map could come in handy… Maybe I could find out in which of the rooms the Huntik knowledge treasury possibly lies.

'It may look cool but it's no toy', Sophie scolds me; she'd do better if she moved aside, I try to get a peek on the scheme and memorize a little. 'With the holotome, Seekers can scan any Titan!'

'May I?', Lok gets enthusiastic. It's obvious he's a kid of modern technology. Without the computer, he can't even lace up his shoes.

'Sure. You may learn something', Vale responds. He is so convincing when he pretends that he's fascinated with teaching about Titans, the stats of which every average Seeker knows by heart! Which only shows that Lok isn't even a middlebrow, 'cause he gladly scans his amulets and takes in every single word said by the mechanical voice.

'The graphics are lame', I throw in with a bored timbre, observing Freelancer's animated model.

As a respond to my remark, the holotome says:

'Upgrade required.'

Dante makes a surprised murmur in reply. You can boast in front of the whipsters, but you won't fool me with your worn-out equipment. With ANY equipment. Even this one from your pants.

Some people are easy to impress, though.

'I could think of a million applications for this…', Lok says in awe, looking at Dante. 'Thanks.'

'Hope I'm not interrupting!'

A new voice in our choir attracts everyone's attention. Like the rest, I raise my stare to the huge screen hanging on the wall, which shows a wide face above the thin tie and the white shirt's edge. It could be assumed that we watch news broadcast, but it'd be a mistake.

'Guggenheim', Dante smiles to his friend's image.

'Dante? And is that Zhalia?', the portly Swiss recognizes me, apparently happy to see me. 'I haven't seen you since our last mission! You look well', he compliments me.

You bet. I nod, holding back a comment that he could lose some weight, otherwise even the largest TV won't be able to show his podgy mug soon.

'We've got a couple of new faces here', Dante puts his hands onto his charges' shoulders. 'Let me introduce Lok Lambert and Sophie Casterwill. This is Guggenheim of the Huntik Foundation', he fills up the introduction.

'Pleasure to meet your acquaintances', Guggenheim responds politely. Ah, those waterfalls of sweetness. 'Now, Dante, I've got a favor to ask of you.'

'I'm investigating a case or two, but if you've got an interesting mission, I might be able to fit it in', Dante says with a voice of a perpetually busy celebrity who has a five o'clock tea with Queen Elizabeth, a golf match with Tiger Woods at six and at the midnight, he carries out the Emmy Awards. And none of those events can be held without him.

'There's been a curious rush of whirlpools in the waters of the river Seine', Guggenheim informs seriously. 'I'll send you the details in the file.'

'Whirlpools?', Dante repeats, furrowing his brow. I almost see his gyrus flowing. I might've believed he's a born intellectual if he hadn't had so much beef. 'Do they happen to be near Rouen?'

'Of course, the legend of the Gargoyle!', Sophie assumes. This sentence only lacks 'Eureka!'.

'You're a Casterwill indeed', Guggenheim states with acknowledgement. 'Folklore attributes these stone creatures with the powers of the water. This myth inspired the use of gargoyle statues on the fountains.'

Just a small educational part.

'And the legend comes from Rouen in France!', Sophie adds. I'm starting to have a déjà vu.

'We know that this myth is really about the Titan, Gar-Ghoul', Dante joins them, interrupting this tautology. 'Its awakening powers are churning up the river. Has anyone been hurt?', he stares at his superior with concern. That's how I imagine Count Roland, worried about 'his sweet France' and ready to come to its aid at all hours of the day and night. And then dying in a river of blood and with a stream of florid sentences on his mouth, but apparently, someone hasn't read the book from cover to cover.

'Two were nearly killed', Guggenheim announces. Dante calms down a bit. 'Nearly' makes a big difference.

'How can I help?', he asks in a more collected voice.

'We stand in the door of the new age of Seekers', Guggenheim notices. OK, but what does it have to do with it? 'More discover their power each day.'

'And though the Gargoyle is lying dormant since ancient time, you believe this new age is bringing it back to life?', Dante apparently has more experience in understanding his pal's blabbering, 'cause thanks to him it starts to make more sense.

'Exactly', the Huntik chief nods, then gets to the point. 'Here's the plan: you'll go to Rouen and meet with the Foundation operative. His name is Peter, he brought this abnormality to our attention, and he'll serve as your guide. You must attempt to recover Gar-Ghoul before it falls into the hand of the Organization. You should be receiving the details on your holotome now.' That's right, the mission data appear on the holotome at the same moment. 'Mission: The Legend of the Gargoyle.'

'I'll be on the next flight to France', Dante promises, hiding the materialized document in his breast pocket.

'Good luck, my friend', Guggenheim wishes and disconnects. Nice buddy, by the way. He commissions a dangerous task and doesn't even say bye right.

Tough luck, but it's not me who chooses such acquaintances. Besides, those whom I have to befriend also aren't my type, but I have to grin and bear it. I must get into the company somehow. After all, France is a country mostly associated with romantic walks, air heavy from flirts and sexual candor. Such an ideal place for a trip for two.

'You get all the good missions, Dante', I remark. 'How about sharing the wealth? I happen to know my way around Rouen', I add suggestively.

He eyes me attentively. I can't really crack his mind open now. Maybe he'd prefer to hang around the city without any human tails? Just in case if a French coquette accosted him? A perfect snack for a break between the important tasks.

'You want in? Fine', he accepts immediately.

Oh, I didn't expect that it'd go so quickly. Apparently, he knows French experiments inside out (literally) and doesn't seek opportunities for new adventures. Besides, I'm not worse that those women. I don't have any references, but I can prove it in concert.

'Hello, excuse me? But what about us?', Sophie cuts in.

'What', you ask? To the kindergarten, it's a perfect place for your arguments about blocks and dolls. At least that would be my solution, but Dante looks thrown off the track. Oh no, don't tell me sense of responsibility is taking over again… Come on, Vale, be an egoist for at least ten seconds, will you?

'Yeah, Sophie's right. What better way to learn how it's done?', Lok supports his friend, then he adds beggingly: 'Come on, Dante…'

Refuse, I try to use telepathy, piercing Dante's back with my stare. Don't be a fag. Pretty, pretty please… I'll take care of your Eiffel Tower in exchange…

Unluckily, to no avail.

'Alright, why not', Dante gives up under the kids' imploring gazes. 'But you'll have to pull your own weight', he warns them trying to be strict.

Well, persuasion without any charms is a much more subtle art and demands at least an eye contact. Or Dante's just a hopeless case of submission… I think that I'd have to invest in a whip; he's apparently more of a masochist type, he'd enjoy it.

'Now everyone, get packed', Vale lifts himself up heavily as if his own compliance weighed him down.

The kids beam and I itch to bite their throats open, starting with the red monkey and leaving the best morsel for the end. Of course I'm talking about Cherit, who asks shyly:

'Can we get a more comfy bag for me this time?'

And a machine gun for me, 'cause otherwise I won't handle another mission with this bunch of dimwits.

The same day, 14:12

Huntik Foundation Hotel

Rouen, France

'Now this is what I call summer vacation! A trip to France!', Lok beamed, taking in the interior's splendor with his eyes wide open, just like the charming city views before. As it turned out, he has never been to France, but, like most people, he regarded it as a place worth visiting. Now he had a perfect chance to do it. Or rather, he thought so.

'This isn't a vacation, Lok', Sophie reminded him. 'We're on the serious mission!'

'Sophie's right', Dante agreed, going into the hall. He was glad that he wasn't the one to lecture Lok; he felt bad as a critic. Sometimes it was good to have Sophie around; she didn't mind, apparently.

'Hey, I passed my finals!', Lok bridled, then he added more quietly: 'Basically…'

His embarrassing confession was left without response, because suddenly an elegant hotel worker came from behind the reception desk and asked with distinct French traces:

'Are you Mister Dante Vale?'

'I am', Dante answered.

'This is for you', the receptionist handed him a folded piece of paper and wandered off without another word.

Dante peeked at him when he was disappearing in the side corridor. He didn't call back if he had seen this man before. Had the Organization already sent their stooge? He unfolded the sheet and attentively looked at the signs drew on it. No, rather not. Everything was alright.

'This is a very basic Foundation code', he recognized.

'Can I see?', Lok asked with interest; riddles and ciphers were really his thing.

'It's from the guide', Dante informed, giving him the message. 'He's being held by the police.'

'I got it!', Lok greedily sank his eyes into the symbols. 'He's at the six street of the Old City…'

'I don't believe it', Sophie murmured in shock, looking at her peer with unusual acknowledgement. 'You deciphered the code that fast? Impossible!', she stated.

'Well, I've already translated the first line', Dante remarked, surprised that the clever girl hadn't figured it out on her own. Perhaps Lok really impressed her.

'And the rest of the message was coded the same way', Lok filled up the explanation. 'So, how will we get our guide outta the jail?', he opened his arms helplessly, looking at each companion one by one.

Dante furrowed his brow a bit. He didn't expect that things would turn out that way. He had to quickly invent an effective plan, and it wasn't easy when the team was partly consisted of newbies. What's more, everyone counted that he'd hit on a brilliant idea and, as usual, get them out of trouble. Maybe it was for the best, he'd rather not depend on their inventiveness too much.

He twitched, feeling a brush on his shoulder, even more delicate than Solwing's feathers. He looked down and saw Zhalia's hand against the background of his light-brown duster.

'Dante, I think this would be easier if I handle this alone', she proposed, taking her hand away.

Just as if she had read his mind.

'Hold on, we can't…', Sophie started.

'If you insist…', he gave her a thank-you stare, grateful that he wouldn't have to worry about this.

She smiled and turned around, probably assuming that it had settled the matter.

'Call if there's trouble', he threw in to her.

'Not likely', she responded lightly, wandering off.

Dante didn't have any doubts that she really wouldn't need to fatigue him. It was just easy to feel. That's why he didn't bother his head with it anymore. He turned around and started to go up the stairs, leading the kids like a mother hen leads its chickens. He didn't really like this comparison, but sadly, it looked just like that.

'Dante, how much do we really know about her?', Sophie brought up the question which probably had bothered her for a while.

'Her background with the Foundation checks out, if that's what you're wondering', Dante responded calmly – and truthfully; he'd read Zhalia's file thoroughly in his spare time, just out of curiosity. Although most of the info was unavailable to him, as expected from the Huntik personal data security.

'She doesn't do the friendly thing… but I think she's OK.', Lok voiced his opinion quite boldly, given that he risked Sophie's reproach.

'I still don't trust her', the girl insisted on her judgement.

Dante didn't like that remark. It started to wind him up that the youngsters questioned his decisions. Sophie didn't have any reasons, but she accused Zhalia of the worst, with no real reason; up to now, their new teammate's actions spoke in her benefit. He sensed the effects of ordinary envy in Sophie's attitude.

'Sophie, do you know something we don't?', he threw in chillily. 'Trust has to be earned. We're going to give her a chance to do just that', he decided in a peremptory voice.

The girl got silent, offended or embarrassed, he didn't really want to check. Just like he wasn't going to wonder what Zhalia's motives were. He believed in his words, so he didn't try to judge her before the woman wouldn't give him any reasons to do so. He calmed down; additionally, it helped him that he was still feeling a pleasant shiver in his shoulder where her hand had been lying a moment ago. Could a person so gentle in every small gesture really have dishonest intentions?

The same day, 15:21

The Seine river bank

Rouen, France

'Nice work, Zhalia', I hear first when I finally, after a chain of vicissitudes, approach the rest of the team. 'You did it!'

'Of course', I respond laconically because I don't really want to dwell on the topic what I went through to achieve this.

I remember that I complained about my current comrades' scatterbrained attitudes like, a dozen times. I won't take it back, I still think that they're terrible amateurs. But compared with this boy I brought here, they're just masters of spectacular actions! The four-eyes had been causing troubles right from the moment I tricked the policemen and with a help of little persuasion (what means: a spell nicely called Simplemind), I convinced them to set the whippersnapper free. Unfortunately, they quickly recalled that they were supposed to keep him locked no matter what. And that's all my fancy costume of a sophisticated lawyer, indignant at the treatment of her client, was for! Now I know it was a huge mistake, because when it came to running away from the officers, jogging in the skirt was an ordeal! In addition, I had to watch out if our guide (oh damn, him, a guide!) hadn't tripped over his own legs and dragged us right into the cops' embrace. I managed to bamboozle them somehow, weaving our way in the Old Town's alleys, but it didn't do without Gareon's help; the small fellow took care of the persecutors, giving us enough time to run away.

All in all, it's Peter who gets the Greatest Klutz Known Award. Lok dropped onto the second place.

'I'm afraid that we're running out of time', Dante approaches us and addresses the lad, uncertain if he should go forward. 'We're counting on you to tell us what happened.'

The boy peeks cautiously at first at Dante, then at me. What're ya staring at, you punk? Did you think I'd stay in that uncomfortable disguise? Such a mistake. I prefer my usual image. Red is not really my color; I should probably invest in some more suitable wig.

'I-I just need a few minutes', he stutters, swallowing hard.

Dante's stare follows the boy who sits on the nearby rock; then he turns to me and makes a questioning murmur. I shrug. Who am I, a child psychologist?

'Maybe I should handle this', Sophie proposes and then, not waiting for the answer, approaches Peter and starts the talk casually. They chatter so sweetly that I have a toothache due to the sugar. Great. I don't have to pretend that I'm interested in his problems.

'See?', Dante speaks up suddenly. I look at him, surprised. What am I supposed to see? That Sophie will get a next admirer soon if she carries out the coaxing part like that?

'What?', I say sharply.

'A little compassion can go a long way', Dante finishes.

Oh damn, my jaws drops. So what, you're playing Confucius?! And YOU are the one who's preaching at me… I also have few advices for you. For example, stop dressing like a bum. Shave once a week. Cut this bush on your head. Don't be a babysitter for two absent-minded fifteen-years-old. And next time, before you start to lecture me as if I was another one of your charges, think again four times and eventually, shut your gob.

'I'm sorry', I snarl ironically, 'but neither am I doubling as a counselor, nor do I have such a protective instinct like you.'

Lok pulls away from us tactfully, taking Cherit with him too. Fine, so he has a sense of danger, after all.

'I don't expect you to dance attendance on him', Dante shakes his head, 'just try to put yourself in his position and show him some understanding. He's just an intelligence worker…'

'Oddly enough, since his IQ is circling around twenty', I snarl.

'I mean', Dante accentuates, a bit irritated himself, 'that he's not a field worker. That's the first time he participates in a mission himself, so could you please…

I snort haughtily.

'Listen, I didn't join you as a babysitter or an instructor for noobs, I'm sure you've got people responsible for that', I respond; to underline this statement, I reach my open hand out. 'I'm a veteran, and I'm here to carry out the mission. This guy gets in the way and delays everything. Do you want the Organization to snatch Gar-Ghoul from under your nose?', I ask truculently. 'So keep leaning over every teenage tantrum, good Samaritan.'

I'm not charming, nice and friendly. So what? I won't agree with him in everything just to make him regard me as an ideal, submissive match to bang. If I would want him to do so, he wouldn't have anything to say. And if he pisses me off, I'll forget about all the fuss and just turn his brain inside out. He'd better think twice if he doesn't want to have a little joy from this life before I put an end to it.

'You're right', Dante states eventually. 'You did what we agreed on, and I shouldn't expect you to do anything more than that. You're not paid for being nice, after all…'

'If you looked for a nice person, you misfired', I cut back. 'I wasn't appointed a Huntik operative for feeding the hungry and adopting stray kittens. There's no room for nice when you're fighting.'

'Meanwhile some people manage to find it in themselves, even if it's not a Huntik requirement…', Dante responds.

The tone of his voice is weird; not exactly a reproach, rather some kind of… disappointment. He doesn't look at me – and it doesn't bode well. I've got a feeling that I've just lost a few points, although I don't really know why. Is such a trivial thing like comforting Peter gonna come between us? I don't like it at all. The fate on Mondays really is sealed…

'Guys, I think we're running out of time!', Sophie notices brilliantly, detaching herself from talk with Peter.

'You're so right, little lady!'

Yeah, finally someone I can beat into a pulp without scruples and vent my anger on! My old pals Suits, the best cannon fodder on Earth!

The whole team tightens the battle formation, backing up. I itch to trip Dante up. I'd ruin his pristine image of the adamant genius if he suddenly turned turtle in front of laughing Organization agents. Ah, luckily I can at least imagine that. Life gets better at once.

'Don't use your Titans!', Vale warns us. 'Too many people are nearby. Sophie, protect our guide!'

Glad to know that the four-eyes can't use any spell… Lok slowly becomes a king of newbies in my eyes. In comparison to Peter, everyone looks better.

'We're here to take you guys to DeFoe', the confident blonde, a self-appointed leader of the six-men squad, announces. 'If you come quietly, I promise no one will get hurt.'

'But getting hurt is what you do best…', Dante responds shrewdly, smirking jeeringly.

The blonde loses his tongue, this remark throws him off the track. I admit, though Vale is a big-headed asshole, sometimes it's good that he snaps his mouth. Especially when he throws a line I'd use myself.

'Have it your way', the Suit drawls, trembling from repressed fury, then he orders his comrades: 'Get them!'

Perhaps I have a clairvoyance talent, because I wasn't surprised when at the same time two of them shot Augerfrost at us. Maybe 'cause they usually start it like that? Naturally, they chose the most dangerous-looking representatives for their targets. I'm quite flattered that I'm one of them, though being tarred with the same brush as Vale… Not much of a pleasure. Alright, let's leave personal grudges aside. I'm not here to have fun all the time (not that I had it once, though…).

'Raypulse!', Dante fires the spell at the Suit. Apparently the fact that someone might see unusual flashes doesn't bother him as much as summoning Titans. I also doubt that no one would find suspicious that a grown-up guy suddenly makes a grasshopper-like jump and strikes two other men down. Hyperstide at the Seeker's service.

Have it your way, at least I'll play a little. I quickly locate the puffed-up blonde, who starts to run at mere sight of me. No use – I strike him down anyway, kicking his back with my both legs. The dude bumps into his two colleagues and all of them fall onto the grass like skittles. Landing after such a blow demands some agility, but I have plenty of it. There's enough to get up after a complicated sequence of movements, catch the fair-haired ass and send him flying with Raypulse directed right to his chest. Wuuush, and he gets an outer-space flight for free.

'Peter!', frightened Sophie screams. 'Are you OK?'

I turn around and my arms drop off. Has this idiot just thrown a Suit right onto our guide, crushing him? I think she was supposed to protect him, not send him to the hospital at instance! I know that he's an useless dolt, but he supposedly will come in handy… one way or another, one can never get enough human shields!

'My ankle!', the four-eyes groans, crawling out from under the persecutor with a little help from the girl.

Bravo. I swear that next time the redhead stays at home. In a straitjacket.

'Dante, Peter's hurt!', Sophie shouts, supporting the guide. Somehow she didn't confess that she's the cause of this whole mess.

I look around. If such an atmosphere loosening occurred, I guess this means that we've already beaten all the Suits? Oh right, the last one lies under the tree and Dante leads Lok from there. Did he save him or Lambert managed to do so on his own? Seeing his content, disbelieving face, I assume that it's the second option. However, it doesn't mean it's all said and done. The reinforcements can always appear. Besides, DeFoe himself will realize soon that his order – five Seekers and a small Titan, take-away version – is a bit late.

'We need to keep moving', I insist. Let's just wave aside the aching ankle. Unless it's not my ankle, I won't get soppy about it.

Sophie throws me a disgusted glare. I make an ugly face to her. I remind you that it's not me who crippled the guide… The girl pouts her lips and turns to the four-eyes.

'Peter, I want you to tell Dante what you told me', she asks him.

'The special investigator forced me to tell him about the cave of the Gargoyle', the boy confesses. 'His name was… DeFoe', he finishes more quietly.

'So we're too late', Dante judges gloomily.

'I wouldn't be too sure 'cause I only gave him the general idea', Peter calms him down, cleaning his glasses. 'Chances are - we can beat them there.'

'What's the fastest way to get there?', Dante asks, holding on to this hope.

'Hm… I've got an idea', Peter answers, smiling for the first time since I met him… and thus, it makes this smile a bit disturbing.

The same day, 15:49

The Seine river

Rouen, France

Luckily, it turned out there's nothing to fear. If only one can swim, because actually we're dashing through the Seine waters on the motorboat. By no means not for relaxing or entertaining purposes, though Cherit seems to have fun, sitting astern.

'Now you've seen it with your own eyes… the evil that we're working against', Sophie begins, addressing Peter.

Ah, so, five minutes of motivational speech for everyone begin.

'Believe me, I know exactly how you feel!', Lok tries to outshout the engine hum. 'A few weeks ago I was a regular kid… and now look at me!'

Sophie laughs, peeking at her peer.

'A regular kid in the company of legends', she mocks him.

'You're a legend? In your own mind!', Lok pays her off; I barely hold back a quiet laughter. 'Anyway, how did you get to the Huntik Foundation, Peter?'

'Studying archeology', the young man explains, taking the glasses off again. You know, you won't clean them with your fingers… 'When the Foundation approached me, I realized their ideals were exactly what I was looking for. To protect history and not exploit it, to learn without limits, to explore ancient secrets and preserve forgotten traditions', he enumerates devotedly, putting the glasses back.

'Considering that you've barely survived, I thought you'd respect adversity. And the ability to bring it', I threw in tartly, not getting carried away by the general enthusiasm.

No one comments my remark. Maybe that's better. They'd only add fuel to the flame.

'Woaaaah!', Cherit squeaks suddenly, spurting into the air from his seat.

'We're coming up to the area of the cave now!', Peter informs us, recognizing the environment.

'Hang on!', Dante advises us; he's at the helm, because he turned out to be the only one who has a license for motorboats.

I'm starting to wonder how the hell he got it, 'cause he doesn't have a clue what he's doing! I have to catch my seat tightly not to fall overboard when we make a violent turn. I'm about to give this lunatic a bollocking when I realize that it was the only method to avoid bumping into a large waterspout, which appears in our way from nowhere. Oh, pardon me. Not one. At least three… four… ten.

Lok screams loudly when the air pressure sweeps him from his seat and lifts him up. At the last moment, Sophie grabs his ankle and keeps him up, but for how long a slender girl can hold up a heavier boy? Cherit raises from his hideout heroically and catches Lok by his foot. With a combined effort, they bring him back onto the board.

'Oh m…', the boy pants, pale from fear, but he cuts it out when he lands onto the floor, hitting his face; the next turn shakes us fiercely, and another one, and once again… we can barely catch our breaths. My fingers hurts from clenching them on the every handle I can find.

Suddenly we make an especially sharp bend, dash past the whirlpools' circle and speed up abruptly.

'Whirlpool's coming back, so we've gotta get into the water now!', Dante yells, drowned by the crashing waves.

'Dante, what're you doing?!', Sophie cries out.

I jerk my head up and now I get what she means. This freak runs us right into the rock!

'Jump when I say so, but not a moment sooner!', he ignores her question, giving another order.

Peter becomes green with fear when he realizes that Vale isn't joking. Sophie squeezes his arm tightly, trying to encourage him. Geez, what a very picture of misery… I hesitate, but I also put my hand onto his shoulder. So what, it's just a cover. Let's make it seem to Vale that I'm not so mean. I'd preferably kick the four-eyes overboard myself, but there aren't the best conditions for such maneuvers – the motorboat jumps onto the water like a pebble during a very enthusiastic 'duck and drakes' child playing.

I clench my teeth not to bite my tongue off when the board shakes and the sides rub against the stone with screeches and crashes; then the impetus throws us up into the air.

'Jump!', Dante makes a signal.

Ready for an enforced bath, I take a deep breath in, close my eyes and jump right into the seething depths. The water mass closes above me like a coffin, but I tear it apart with my head quickly, catching big gulps of air. Lok, Sophie and Peter, one by one, emerge wildly beside me.

'Where's Dante?!', Sophie shouts, spinning around and splashing water aside.

Right, where's this moron!? The motorboat hangs in the air, but it'll fall onto the rocks in no time… If Dante wants to commit suicide, he won't find any better occasion than staying onboard!

Suddenly a brownish spot shoots up into the air in a wide arch. Vale makes a complicated sequence, like an airborne ballet dancer, and lands onto the rock in a smooth crouch - a few seconds before the boat crashes against the precipitous bank and bursts into flames.

Dante straightens up slowly, observing the fire licking the sky. An odor of melting metals and plastic gets into our nostrils. Luckily it isn't mixed with a stink of roasting human meat. By a whisker. What a damn daredevil, brainless swank, idiot to the power!

'You guys OK?', Cherit asks squeakily; he had the easiest way to get out of the boat, on his wings.

Hm, I wouldn't say 'OK' – the second time during past few days I'm dripping wet, my hair drooped like a worn-out mop, and I can forget about my make-up. But, quoting some overzealous song lyrics, I'm still standing, yeah, yeah, yeah. That's quite a plus factor. Peter, for example, falls down after taking one step forward when his ankle fails him. Lok has to support him.

Ah, now I get why we crashed in this place. The water is somewhat… warmer here, which means either that somebody's just pissed their pants or that the stream has to flow from underground. There must be its source here.

'How did you even see this place?', Sophie keeps wondering about it while I'm wandering off from the others and climb the waterside rocks. It won't hurt to be few steps ahead of the rest.

'This is the origin of these water spouts', Dante explains, standing in the water up his ankles, as if he had waterproof socks.

'So that means the Gargoyle Titan is nearby', Lok assumes.

'I think you're right!', Peter agrees, staring at the sheet. 'These stones had been formed by a high-pressure water', he examines his discovery.

'And here's a cave', I point out to them, already standing on the high bank.

It takes them some time to get up there. I have an opportunity to pour the water out of my boots and wring it out my hair. It doesn't help much, but well, at least I tried.

'This grove… I could've searched forever by land and never found it!', Peter states in disbelief.

'Let's go', Vale commands, feeling the pressure of time.

'Dante, once we get inside, can't we use the holotome to map the cave's interior?, Lok proposes cautiously, not sure how his idea would be taken.

'Exactly!', Dante praises him, lightening up for the first time in a while. 'I'll leave that to you', he gives him the device. Lok reaches his hands out with solemn respect, as if he was taking a relic. Perhaps he didn't expect such a favor. Well, right now he really deserves it.

A sudden noise from underground breaks the uplifting moment.

'Let's go, we've gotta hurry', Dante rushes us, negligently throwing the holotome right into Lok's hands. The surprised boy catches it tightly, as if he was afraid that he'd drop it, and follows the others.

I'm next to the entrance, so I'm the first one to get swallowed by the darkness. I stand in turbid, lukewarm like an undercooked soup, greenish water. It's a miracle that it doesn't stink, 'cause it looks awful. Oh well, if I could have paid for mud baths and compresses made of various kinds of gunk, I should be happy that now I have them for free, and in such an amount…

Two beams from Peter's and Dante's flashlights touch the stone ceiling. We're forcing our way forward, wading against the current. The corridor hollowed out in the rock is wide, but not that much to keep us from seeing the walls, so I'm a bit surprised when after few minutes we lost them from our sight. The rest also looks around, confused.

'Boltflare!', Dante shouts; the golden streak gets fired into the air like a flare, but it doesn't vanish, just stays above, lightening the interior.

'This is one of the largest cavern I've ever seen!', shocked Peter states and, exceptionally, I have to agree with him.

This place is huge. I don't know how long the water was forming such a breach, but I bet it it's been few hundred years. Though this high, ornamented column in front of us doesn't seem like a natural formation… It looks rather like a human creation. A thick cylinder is coiled by the single zigzag, which turns out to be the tail of a gigantic gargoyle crowning the platform. We watch paralyzed how all of the sudden, a stone podium mounts up from the waters under the sculpture's feet. As if it was an invitation from the Gar-Ghoul towering above us… We peek at each other and after that speechless conference, we stand in the center of the circle.

WOOOOSH!

A stream of water from the stone muzzle hits the place where we've just been standing. Luckily everyone managed to jump aside before the massive wave washed us away.

'Honorguard!', Sophie shouts when the next stream approaches her. Though her cover works, the power of the smack pushes her few steps backward.

'Moving that fast, even water can hit like a bullet!', Dante warns us. Congratulations for your physics knowledge, but what does this info give us?!

'I'm always a step ahead, Dante Vale!'

Oh great. I only missed DeFoe here… Really, I start to dislike him more than this gang of morons which I have to quibble with. He could warn me somehow that I shouldn't step on that podium. Unless he wanted to give me a cold shower in case I had forgotten about my duties. Uh, I remember almost too well.

'Getting past the thrilling Gargoyle was certainly not an easy task', the long-haired freak informs us, standing insolently on the head of the stone sculpture. 'Let's see if you can do that AND manage to beat my men too!', he challenges us, then disappears somewhere behind the colossus.

O-hoo, it gets unpleasant. Eight Suits on the right, four on the left, Grier with Breaker, there are two Mindrones, Redcaps and Strix… We're screwed. Hm, or rather THEY are. I'm in the best position, because I've got allies on both sides, they will shield me if something happens…

'Can I talk to him?', Cherit proposes cautiously, fluttering his wings harder when he gets scared and examining the Gargoyle's statue. 'I think there's a family resemblance…'

Not in size, that's for sure.

WOOOSH!

Another water bullet scatters our formation. Maybe that's better, at least they won't knock us off all at once.

'Team, time to get our Titans in the gear', Dante shouts, bent lightly, all focused like a spring convoluted tightly to rebound with more force. 'Caliban, Solwing!' Now he straightens up proudly, as if he had a reason. It turns out that it gives a good effect – the rest plucks up courage.

'Freelancer!', Lok calls.

'GOOOOOO, Sabriel!', Sophie's voice echoes around.

'Gareon!', I'm not going to be worse than them. 'Kilthane!'

'Engage the enemy!', Grier commands.

'Sophie, protect Peter!', Dante orders, seeing DeFoe's men attacking us. Does he never learn from his mistakes?! She broke the guide's ankle!

Nevermind, not my business, I have to take care of myself. I haven't seen such a fight for a long time. Sometimes it was hard, but I've never battled a group four times larger than mine… The brawl becomes even wilder due to the fact that every minute someone gets hit by the water bullet from the Gargoyle's mouth. Sabriel's done already, Sophie's left alone against two Redcaps. Luckily Lok tells Freelancer to defend her. In that case, the guide's protection falls onto my shoulders. Me and Gareon shield Peter from the Suits' attacks.

'We need to get past these Suits before DeFoe gets the Titan!', Dante yells, trying to outshout the racket. 'Touchram!', he directs the charm to the water under his feet.

The power tears the sheet into two waves which sweep DeFoe's men aside. Just look at it, we've got Moses here. Dante uses Nimblefire and dashes under the closing water walls, striking down another two Suits; additionally, the waterfalls flow onto their heads from two sides, pushing them down to the bed.

'Look out!', Lok warns him, too late; Dante gets a spanking from the Gargoyle. Hit into the back of his neck with the stream of water, he falls into the greenish depth.

'Dante!', Lok cries out when the man doesn't emerge to the surface.

I got petrified for a moment. You moron, don't you dare drowning. You'd spoil everything…

After a while, Vale, wet like a canal rat, sticks his head out above the surface, snorting and spitting. Good boy. Now relaxed, I return to the fight calmly. I'd be more than sorry if someone else did my job which was supposed to bring me fame and esteem.

My face falls when Redcaps tear my Kilthane apart. There's less and less of us, and the Suits start to feel confident. They're not even bothered by Lok, who summoned Kipperin for no-one-knows-why. The moth-like Titan's presence won't help us gain the victory, because apart from borrowing his wings, he's completely useless. Unless he can buzz. Then he'll piss them off to death like a troublesome fly.

I simply love my black sense of humor. Thanks to that, no situation seems too serious to make fun of it. Even the fact that the Suits cut off any way of escape, and to survive the rain of spells, we have to strengthen the covers around us constantly.

Only Lok stays outside the barriers and seems up to something. Most likely, he tries to become the first victim, flying so close to the Gargoyle. I told you so… The Titan hits Kipperin and Lok falls down right into the water. Now he just stares at the colossus helplessly.

'You're outnumbered, Dante Vale', Grier notices the obviousness, standing vis-à-vis our leader. 'Give up before someone really gets hurt!'

No wonder Grier proposes such conditions; he's certain of their advantage, and even the team leader lost his morale. Vale doesn't look as impressive as before, kneeling into the water and digging in the thin sludge. What is he searching for? Has he gone nuts? Some people bear failures really badly…

'There're more of you, but none more mighty than…', I just realize that Dante lifts an amulet from the bed, 'METAGOLEM!'

Grier and the Suits back up when the colossus raises from the underground beside Dante. The Titan's enormous fist strikes down two Grier's minions, and he himself runs away before the next blow is directed.

'Great!', it unintentionally slips through my lips when Metagolem and Caliban finish Breaker off.

Dante turns around to me, as if he was surprised to hear a praise from my mouth. Oh well. You pissed me off today, but I can forgive you that. After all, I'll do a way better number on you, and then I'll pay you off for every stupid quip and actions. And for now, just enjoy my acknowledgement like a leftover from my table.

'So what, are we gonna end this?', he proposes, as if we were about to finish a picnic. And as if we didn't fall out before. Apparently, now he appreciates my usual roughness; it surely comes in handy during such scrapes.

'We are', I respond energetically and we both make a battle pose.

'TOUCHRAM!'

It appears that it's us who caused such a noise, but… when our power throws DeFoe's men onto the walls, the crash doesn't stop. We both turn around with one accord and, stunned, observe how the Gargoyle scatter into single rocks, which fall down like a murderous hail.

'No!', I shout.

Damn it, at first Dante stole Metagolem from me and now I won't even get Gar-Ghoul?!

'Relax!', Lok runs towards us. 'It wasn't a Titan! It was just a magical trap!'

'Lok discovered it, scanning the gargoyle with the holotome, and I deactivated it with my family powers!', Sophie explains, following him.

'Well, well', Dante says in acknowledgement. 'You did a good job! I see that I didn't lend you the holotome for nothing', he smiles to Lambert, who only lowers his stare humbly.

'Yeah, your maneuvers with Kipperin didn't go to waste', I admit, a bit comforted and thanks to that more favorable. I still have chance to get Gar-Ghoul.

Or rather: I would have, if not some overzealous prodigy.

'Zhalia, Lok, Sophie, keep Grier occupied', Dante asks. I'd say that he's already occupied, 'cause Metagolem brings them a lot of entertainment. I want to protest but Dante calls Caliban and before I manage to say anything, he disappears from our sight, making his way up the destroyed monument with Hyperstride.

'I don't know 'bout you guys, but I'm not about to let Dante down', Sophie speaks up seriously.

I clench my teeth. What can I do? Everyone gets enthusiastic over kicking butts, as if it was another round in a martial arts tournament separating us from victory, but I want to get Gar-Ghoul instead. Meanwhile this unshaven dork will rake in my prize again… Uh. Dante Vale, I feel like I hate you more and more.

Luckily I have someone to vent my anger on.

The same day, 16:32

The cave of Gar-Ghoul

Rouen, France

When we finally drive Grier and the Suits off and head to the Gar-Ghoul's lair through the secret corridor, we find Dante here – with his butt in a puddle of water, he looks like an oversized, piddled baby.

'Fantastic', he murmurs mockingly, examining his clapped-out duster and standing up.

'What happened?!', Sophie asks.

'He got away', he responds bitterly, then adds gloomily: 'With the Gar-Ghoul.'

I clench my jaws not to bite through his artery. What a bumbler, to let someone like DeFoe make a fool of himself… He lost Gar-Ghoul, MY Gar-Ghoul! He'll have to pay for that too. His bill gets longer and longer… I'm not sure if his whole skin is enough to write on it what he owes me. I'll check it someday…

'How?', Sophie can't believe it. 'You mean all our work was for nothing and the Organization won?!'

'This isn't some feel-good fairytale', I remind her coldly, still not able to get over the Titan's loss. 'Sometimes we lose.'

'This is…', Sophie can't find a suitable word for some time, 'awful!'

'We failed? It was all… for nothing?', Peter asks. Geeeez, is he deaf or what?! Yeah, you screwed the mission up, got it?!

A death silence falls between us then. Alllriiight, a wake at Gar-Ghoul's.

'Uhm, guys?!', Lok throws to us, trying to sound vigorously, as if he fought with our sluggishness. 'All the other statues are holding ONE item in BOTH hands…', he notices.

'Oh, give it up!', Sophie snaps, sitting on the stairs like a bundle of worries. 'Don't you realize we lost? You can't turn this around, it's over!', she blows hot and cold, waving her hands. Oh yeeeah, we only lacked hysteria here.

'I bet it's a clue!', Lok still doesn't give up. 'Or a hint of some kind… Gargoyle has water powers, right?'

'Ah, forget it!', Sophie growls.

'Give him a chance', Dante silences her suddenly, coming closer to Lok. Hm, maybe Lambert's discovery is really worth seeing. It won't hurt, nothing will happen at most. It can't be any worse, after all.

'Look guys, there is a hole here!', Lok points at the cavity in the vessel in gargoyle's hands. 'The jug is hollow!'

'It was probably damaged in battle', I state skeptically.

'Of course! We need some water!', Lok doesn't listen to me; he almost slaps me when he reaches to his backpack for his flask. He unscrews it and pours its content into jug.

A shuffle rings behind our backs; we turn out and look in astonishment how one of the statues pulls aside, revealing…

'A secret passage!', Sophie beams.

'I'm impressed, Lok!', Cherit confesses. 'That was amazing!'

'Good one, kid', Dante says with a smile; though he tried to sound a bit lenient, I sense a real admiration in his voice. 'I thought there may be more to this cave than the Gargoyle.' Yeah, yeah, don't try to claim some credit now, loooser. Shame stings when a dimwit surpasses you…

'More meaning what?', Sophie wonders.

'Ancient secrets can be more powerful than any Titan…', Dante explains, 'and I think that's exactly what Lok's just discovered.'

'I think he just got lucky', I try to dampen this mutual admiration society a bit, though I'm also glad that we didn't waste the whole day.

'I'm sorry I doubted you, Lok', Sophie doesn't sound like usual when she addresses Lok. She seems really confused.

'Enough with the apologizing!', the boy waves it off, though a little embarrassed. Well, he got used to being pushed around, so too many praises at once could harm him. 'Let's go already and explore! I wonder what's down there…'

'You're not the only one…', Dante remarks, gathering new strength. 'Let's go.'

And what about losing the guide-bum halfway, guys?