The Lost Colony

by Eoin Colfer

  To Basset’s credit, he fought the enchantment for several seconds, until the magic’s power actually burst a blood vessel in his eye. Then, as the blood spread across the orange sclera of his eye, Basset’s resolve faded, to be replaced by docile dullness.

  “I am yours,” he intoned. “I will never question you again.”

  Abbot closed his eyes for a moment, drawing the magic back into himself. When he opened them again, he was all smiles.

  “That’s good. I am so glad to hear that, Basset. I mean, your other option was a quick and painful death, so you’re better off as a mindless lapdog anyway.”

  He climbed to his feet and graciously helped Basset to his.

  “You’ve had a fall,” he explained, in a doctor-patient voice. “And I’m helping you to your feet.”

  Basset blinked dreamily. “I will never question you again.”

  “Oh, never mind all that now. Just sit down and do whatever I say.”

  “I am yours,” said Basset.

  Abbot slapped his cheek gently. “And the others said we wouldn’t get along.”

  Abbot returned to his own chair at the head of the long table. The chair was high-backed and made from various animal parts. He settled into it, paddling the armrests with his palms.

  “I love this chair,” he said. “Actually, it’s more of a throne than a chair, which brings me to our main business here today.” Abbot reached under a leather flap in the chair and pulled out a roughly fashioned bronze crown.

  “I think it’s about time the council declared me king for life,” he said, fixing the crown on his head.

  This new king-for-life idea would be a tough sell. A demon pride was always ruled by the fittest, and it was a very temporary position. Abbot had only survived as long as he had by mesmerizing anyone who dared challenge him.

  Most of the council had been under Abbot’s spell for so long that they accepted the suggestion as if it were a royal decree; but some of the younger ones shuddered with violent spasms, as their true beliefs wrestled with this new repugnant idea.

  Their struggles didn’t last long. Abbot’s suggestion spread like a virus through their conscious and subconscious, subduing revolution wherever it was found.

  Abbot adjusted his crown slightly. “Enough debate. All in favor, say graaargh!”

  “GRAAARGH!” howled the demons, battering the table with gauntlets and swords.

  “All hail King Leon,” prompted Abbot.

  “ALL HAIL KING LEON!” the council mimicked like trained parrots.

  The adulation was interrupted by a soldier demon who burst through the lodge’s flap.

  “There’s a ...there was a big ...”

  Abbot whipped off the crown. The general population wasn’t ready for that yet.

  “There’s a what?” he demanded. “A big what?”

  The soldier paused, catching his breath. He realized suddenly that he’d better communicate the bigness of what had happened on the mountain, or else Abbot was liable to behead him for interrupting the meeting.

  “There was a big flash.”A big flash? That didn’t sound big enough.

  “Let me start again. A huge flash of light came from the volcano. Two of the hunting party were nearby. They say someone came through. A group. Four beings.”

  Abbot frowned. “Beings?”

  “Two demons, maybe. But the other two, the hunter doesn’t know what they are.”

  This was serious. Abbot knew it. These beings could be humans, or worse still, surviving warlocks. If it was a warlock, he would surely guess Abbot’s secret. All it would take was one demon with some real power, and his hold on the pride would be gone. This situation had to be contained.

  “Very well. The council will investigate. Nobody else goes up there.”

  The soldier’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously, as he was about to bear bad news. “It’s too late, Master Abbot. The entire pride is climbing the volcano.”

  Abbot was halfway to the door before the soldier finished his sentence.

  “Follow me!” he shouted to the other demons. “And bring your weapons.”

  “GRAAARGH!” roared the spellbound council members.

  Artemis was surprised at how calm he felt. You would think that a teenage human would be terrified at the sight of a pride of demons climbing toward him, but Artemis was more nervous than terrified, and more curious than nervous.

  He glanced backward over his shoulder, into the crater they had just climbed out of.

  “The pride comes before a fall,” he said softly, then smiled at his own joke.

  Holly overheard. “You certainly pick your moment to develop a sense of humor.”

  “Usually I would be planning, but this is out of my hands. Qwan is in charge now.”

  No1 led them along the rim of the crater toward a low rocky ledge. There was a wooden rod jammed into the ground beside the ledge, and hooked over the rod were dozens of silver bangles. Most tarnished and soot-caked.

  No1 wiggled a bunch over the top of the rod.

  “Dimension jumpers leave these here,” he explained, passing them out. “Just in case they make it back. No one ever has, until now. Except Leon Abbot, of course.”

  Qwan slipped a bangle onto his wrist. “Dimensionjumping is suicide. Without silver, a demon will never be able to stay in one place for more than a few seconds. They will drift between times and dimensions until they are killed by exposure or starvation. Magic is the only reason we’re here. I am amazed this Abbot person made it back. What is his demon name?”

  No1 squinted down the mountain pathway. “You can ask him yourself. That’s him, the big one elbowing his way to the head of the group.”

  Holly squinted down at the pride leader. “The one with the curved horns and big sword?” she asked.

  “Is he smiling?” No1 asked.

  “No.”

  “That’s Abbot.”

  It was a strange reunion. There was no hugging, no champagne, and no teary-eyed reminiscing. Instead there were bared teeth, drawn swords, and threatening behavior. The latest batch of imps were especially eager to skewer the newcomers and prove their valor. Artemis was the number-one target in the group. Imagine, an actual live human here on Hybras. He didn’t look so tough.

  Artemis and company had stayed put on the ledge, waiting for the demons to come to them. They didn’t have to wait long. The imps arrived, breathless from the climb and just dying to kill something. If it hadn’t been for Qwan, Artemis would have been ripped to shreds on the spot. In fairness, Holly had something to do with keeping Artemis alive, too. She tagged the first half dozen imps with a charge from her Neutrino strong enough to send them scurrying back to what they thought was a safe distance. After that, Qwan managed to hold their attention by conjuring a multicolored dancing monkey in the air.

  Soon, every demon who was able to climb the mountain had done so, and they were all staring at the magical monkey.

  Even No1 was entranced. “What is that?”

  Qwan fluttered his fingers, causing the monkey to somersault.

  “It’s a simple magical construct. Instead of allowing the sparks to roam on instinct, I marshal them into a recognizable form. It takes time and effort, but in time you will have this micro control, too.”

  “No,” said No1. “I mean what is that?”

  Qwan sighed. “It’s a monkey.”

  As their numbers grew, the demons became more and more agitated. The warriors crashed horns in a show of strength. They bashed each other’s chest plates with their forearms and made a big show of sharpening their swords on stones.

  “I miss Butler,” said Artemis.

  “Me too,” said Holly, scanning the crowd for the greatest threat. It wasn’t easy to decide. Every demon in the crowd seemed as though he were on the verge of hurling himself at the new arrivals. Holly had seen 3-D models of demons, of course, but she had never seen the real thing. The models were accurate enough, but they couldn’t capture the bloodlust in the creature
s’ eyes, or the eerie whines that curled out of their noses as battle fever possessed them.

  Abbot barged through to the front of the group, and Holly instantly trained her weapon on his chest.

  “Qwan!” said Abbot, obviously amazed. “You’re alive? I thought the warlocks were all dead.”

  “Except the one that helped you,” said No1, before he could stop himself.

  Abbot took a step back. “Well, yes. Except that one.”

  Qwan closed his fist and the monkey disappeared. “I know you,” he said slowly, searching for the memories. “You were at Taillte. You were a dissenter.”

  Abbot drew himself up. “That’s right. I am Abbot the dissenter. We never should have come here. We should have met the humans head-on. The warlocks betrayed us!” He leveled his sword at Qwan. “You betrayed us!”

  The other demons growled and rattled their weapons.

  Abbot took a moment to study the other members of the group.

  “A human! That’s a human. You have brought the enemy to our door. How long before the rest of them follow in their metal birds?”

  “Metal birds?” said Artemis in Gnommish. “What metal birds? All we have are crossbows, remember?”

  There followed a collective ooh, as the demons realized that this human spoke their language, albeit with an accent.

  Abbot decided to change the subject. This boy was picking holes in his story. “And you brought an elf, too, warlock. Armed with a magical weapon. The elves betrayed us at Taillte!”

  Qwan was getting bored by all this posturing. “I know, everybody betrayed you at Taillte. Why don’t you give the order you’re working up to? You want us dead. Give the order and see if our brother demons will attack the only being who can save them.”

  Abbot realized that he was on very dangerous ground. This poisonous little bunch had to be dealt with. Quickly and permanently.

  “You want to die so much? So be it, you can die.” He pointed his sword at the small group, and was on the verge of roaring Kill them or perhaps Death to the traitors, when Qwan snapped his fingers. He did this in a very showy way, setting off a magical mini explosion.

  “I remember you now. Your name isn’t Abbot. You’re N’zall, the idiot who ruined the time spell. But you seem different. Those red markings.”

  Abbot flinched as if struck. A few of the older demons sniggered. Abbot’s demon name wasn’t brought up very much. Abbot was a little embarrassed by it, not surprising since N’zall meant little horn in the old demon cant.

  “It is you, N’zall. It’s all coming back to me now. You and that other moron, Bludwin, you were against the time spell. You wanted to fight it out with the humans.”

  “I still do,” roared Abbot, overcompensating after the mention of his true name.“There’s one right here. We can start with him.”

  Qwan was angry now, for the first time since he’d come back to life. “We had it all worked out. We had a circle of seven—in the volcano, the lava was rising, and everything was under control, then you and Bludwin hopped out from behind a rock and broke the circle.”

  Abbot’s laugh was hollow. “This never happened. You have been away too long, warlock. You have gone mad.”

  Qwan’s eyes burned with blue sparks, and magic rippled along the length of his arms. “I have been a statue for ten thousand years because of you.”

  “Nobody believes a word of this, warlock.”

  “I believe it,” said No1. And there were some in the demon camp who believed it, too. It was in their eyes.

  “You tried to murder the warlocks!” continued Qwan accusingly. “There was some commotion, and Bludwin went into the volcano. His energy tainted the spell. Then you dragged my apprentice, Qweffor, into the lava, too. Both of you went in. I saw it.” Qwan frowned, trying to piece it all together. “But you didn’t die. You didn’t die because the spell had already started. The magic transported you away before the lava could melt your bones. But where did Qweffor go? Where did you go?”

  No1 knew the answer to that question. “He went into the future. He told our secrets to the humans in exchange for one of their storybooks and an ancient weapon from a museum.”

  Abbot pointed the sword at him. “I was going to let you live, impling.”

  No1 felt a knot of rage in his stomach. “Like you let me live the last time. You told me to jump into the crater. You mesmerized me!”

  Abbot was in a tough spot. He could order the council to attack, but that would leave many questions unanswered, and he couldn’t mesmerize everybody. But if he let Qwan keep talking, every one of his secrets could be exposed. What he needed was some time to think. Unfortunately, time was something he did not have. He would have to use his wits and weapons to get out of this situation.

  “I mesmerized you? Don’t be ridiculous. Demons don’t have magic. We abhor magic.” Abbot shook his head in disbelief. “What am I even doing explaining myself to a runt like you. Shut your mouth, No1, or I’ll stitch it shut and throw you into the volcano.”

  Qwan did not appreciate his new apprentice being threatened.

  “I have had enough of you, N’zall. You would threaten warlocks? No1, as you call him, has more power inside him than you will ever have.”

  Abbot laughed. “For once you are right, old warlock. I have no power inside me. Not a single spark of magic. What I do have is the power of my fist, and the strength of the pride behind me.”

  Artemis was growing tired of this bickering. “We don’t have time for this,” he said, stepping out from behind Qwan. “The time spell is unraveling, and we need to make preparations for the journey home. For that journey, we need all the magic we can get. Including yours, N’zall or Abbot or whatever your name is.”

  “I don’t argue with humans,” growled Abbot. “But if I did, I might repeat that I don’t have any magic.”

  “Oh, come on,” scoffed Artemis. “I know the side effects of the mesmer. Including ragged pupils and bloodshot eyes. Some of your friends here have been mesmerized so much they barely have pupils anymore.”

  “And where did I get this magic?”

  “You stole it in the time tunnel. I imagine you and Qweffor were literally melted together by the combination of lava and magic. When you emerged in Earth’s recent past, you managed to hold on to some warlock magic.”

  This was a bit of a stretch for everyone present. Abbot realized that he wouldn’t need the mesmer to convince anybody that the human’s theory was ridiculous. He could destroy this human’s argument before destroying the human.

  Abbot made a great show of scoffing at Artemis. He did the whole big tribe leader bit, running his nails along the curves of his horns and barking out short bursts of laughter. Pretty soon, almost everyone else was laughing along.

  “So, human,” said Abbot, when the furor had died down. “I stole magic in the time tunnel. You must be losing your mind, Mud Boy. Maybe that’s because I’m about to order my imps to skin your bones and suck the marrow from them. Even if that were possible, how would you know? How would a human know?” And Abbot grinned smugly, certain that no satisfactory answer could possibly be forthcoming.

  Artemis Fowl grinned right back at him and pointed his index finger at the sky. Actually, it was his middle finger, due to the time tunnel switch. From the tip of this finger sprang a small blue spark that exploded like a tiny firework.

  “I know magic can be stolen,” said Artemis. “Because I stole some myself.”

  This piece of melodrama was greeted by a moment of stunned silence, then Qwan cackled loudly.

  “I said you were smart, Mud Boy. I was wrong; you are exceptional. Even in the time tunnel you were plotting. Stole a little magic, did you?”

  Artemis shrugged, closing his fingers on the sparks. “It was floating around. I wondered what would happen if I embraced it.”

  Qwan squinted at him. “Now you know. You are changed. A magical creature like us. I hope you will use your gift wisely.”

  “Just what we n
eed,” moaned Holly. “Artemis Fowl with magical powers.”

  “I believe that if we count Mr. N’zall here, that makes five magical beings. Enough to reverse the time spell.”

  Abbot was sunk and he knew it. The other demons were looking at him curiously, wondering if he had been manipulating them magically. Even a few of the mesmerized council were struggling to shake off their mental chains. It was only a matter of minutes before his dreams of kingship floated forever out of his reach.

  There was only one option left to him.

  “Kill them all!” he roared, not quite as fiercely as he would have liked. “Imps, you have free rein.”

  The mesmerized council members lurched into action, not quite as graceful in battle as they would normally be. The imps were so delighted to be given a chance to kill something with only two legs that they barged forward with unconfined glee.

  “Blood and guts!” howled one, and they all took up the cry. It was not particularly eloquent, but it got the message across.

  Holly was not particularly worried. Her Neutrino could fire as fast as she could aim, and with a wide-beam setting she could stun the entire line of demons before they could do any damage. In theory.

  She elbowed Artemis aside, took a stand, and began firing. The beams erupted from the pistol in a spreading cone pattern, blasting the demons off their feet and keeping them down for at least ten minutes. Except for the ones that were getting back up immediately. Which seemed to be most of them. Even the imps were shaking off the blasts as if they were mere gusts of wind.

  Holly frowned. This should not be happening. And she didn’t dare raise the setting for fear of doing permanent damage. Something she would not risk under any circumstances.

  “Qwan?” she said. “My beam’s not having much effect. Any ideas?”

  Holly knew that warlocks weren’t much use in combat situations. It was against their credo to harm, and they would only do so in the most dire situations. By the time Qwan overcame his pacifist nature, it would be too late.

  While Qwan scratched his chin, Holly kept firing. Each pulse brought down a bunch of demons, but they were back on their feet in seconds.