by Eoin Colfer
“If the council has been mesmerized, I can heal them,” concluded Qwan. “But the brain is delicate; I need direct contact.”
“No time for that,” said Holly, loosing another burst. “Artemis, have you got anything?”
Artemis had his hand on his stomach. “I really need to use a bathroom. A second ago I was fine. But now . . .”
Holly really wished her wings were operational. If she could just get a bird’s-eye view on the targets, it would be much easier.
“Bathroom, Artemis? Is this really the time?”
One demon made it past the laser bursts. Close enough to smell. Holly ducked under his swinging mace, kicking him in the chest. The air left his lungs in a whoof, and the demon went down gasping for breath.
“I need the bathroom, and your Neutrino is having barely any effect. Time is speeding up. We’re in a surge.” Artemis grabbed Holly’s shoulder, causing a burst to sail off high and wide.
“I need to get to the bomb. It could explode at any moment.”
Holly shrugged him off. “Safety tip, Artemis. Don’t jiggle me when I’m firing. Qwan, can you buy us some time?”
“Time,” said Qwan, smiling. “You know, it’s ironic that we need time because . . .”
Holly ground her teeth. Why did she always have to end up with the intellectuals?
No1 had been equal parts terrified and thoughtful during the attack. Terrified for the obvious reasons: dismemberment, painful death, etc. But he was thoughtful also. He was a warlock. There must be something he could do. Before he left the island, he would have been stunned into inactivity by the suddenness and ferocity of this attack. Now it wasn’t even the worst thing he’d faced. Those security Mud Men in the chateau. The big ones with the suits and fire sticks, guns. No1 could see them in his head, clear as if they were here.
Instead of allowing the sparks to roam on instinct, I marshal them into a recognizable form.
No1 concentrated on the human figures in his memory, wrapping them with magic, bringing them forth. He felt them solidifying as though the blood in his forehead were freezing. When the pressure became too much for his forehead, he expelled it into reality, conjuring up ghostly images of a dozen human mercenaries, blasting away with automatic weapons. It was a spectacular sight. Even Abbot reared back. The rest more than reared back, they turned and ran.
“Nice, Qwan. Good thinking,” said Artemis.
Qwan was puzzled. “You can read my thoughts? Oh, you mean the soldiers. That was not me. No1 is a very powerful little warlock. In ten years he could move this island on his own.”
Abbot was left standing ten paces from the group with his sword in his hand and a hailstorm of blue bullets cascading around him. In fairness to the pride leader, he stood his ground, facing certain death the demon way: with a sword in his hand and a snarl on his face.
Qwan shook his head. “Just look at that. It’s that kind of idiocy that got us into trouble in the first place.”
Abbot had some experience with magic, and he soon realized that these new humans and their missiles were mere illusions.
“Come back, you fools,” he shouted after his soldiers. “They can’t hurt you.”
Artemis tapped Holly’s shoulder. “Sorry to jiggle you again, but we need to get back to the bomb. All of us. And if possible, lure Abbot down there, too.”
Holly put several bursts into Abbot’s chest to buy them a couple of minutes. The pride leader flew backward, as though a giant had pounded his chest with a mallet.
“Okay. Let’s go. Artemis, you go ahead, I’ll hold them off from the rear.”
They scrambled back into the crater, skidding on their heels through the ash crust. They made faster progress on the way down, but it was just as treacherous. It was hardest for Holly because she was moving backward, ready to take a potshot at anyone who poked so much as a hair over the crater rim.
It was a scene from a five-year-old’s nightmare. Acrid smells that burned the eyes and throat, a surface that sucked at the feet, a red sky, and the sound of breath and heartbeats. Not to mention the constant fear that the demons were coming.
Things were about to get worse. The release of Qwan’s displaced magical energy had accelerated the deterioration of the time spell, and it was on the point of collapsing entirely. Unfortunately, this would happen in reverse order, starting on Hybras. Artemis knew this, but he hadn’t had a spare second to run any calculations. Soon, he guessed, it would happen soon. And who could tell when soon was during a time surge.
Artemis realized that it was more than a guess. He knew the collapse of the tunnel was imminent. He could feel it. He was in touch with magic now. He was part of it, and it was part of him.
Artemis pulled Qwan’s arm around his shoulder, urging him forward.
“Quickly. We need to hurry.”
The old warlock nodded. “You feel it? Chaos in the air. Look at No1.”
Artemis glanced behind. No1 was on their heels, but his brow was furrowed with pain and he knuckled his forehead.
“He’s sensitive,” gasped Qwan. “Puberty.”
Suddenly human puberty didn’t seem so bad.
Holly was in trouble. Her years of training and experience hadn’t prepared her for the moment when she would be retreating into a volcano, guarding a human and two members of a supposedly extinct species during a time surge.
The surge was playing havoc with her bodily functions, but it was also having an effect on her gunfire. She was laying down a covering fire on the ridge, but a cluster of blasts disappeared in midair.
Where do those shots go? Holly wondered briefly. Into the past?
Groups of ghost images fizzled into existence for a brief moment, giving the illusion that there were twice as many demons as there had been. Added to this, she was suddenly struck with hunger cramps, and she could swear her fingernails were growing.
Abbot’s demons came fast, and not in a tight group as Holly had hoped. They had ranged themselves along the rim, and came over the top in a coordinated wave. It was a fearsome sight, dozens of warriors bounding over the lip, their markings glowing in the red light, teeth bared, horns quivering, and bloodcurdling battle cries echoing around the crater walls. This was not like fighting trolls. Trolls had some basic smarts, but these demons were organized and battle-ready. Already they knew to spread out and avoid the laser bursts.
Holly picked out the pride leader.
Hello there, Abbot, she thought. Whatever happens here, you’re going home with a headache.
She loosed three bolts at him. Two disappeared, but one connected, sending Abbot tumbling into the dirt.
Holly did her best, widening the spread as much as possible, setting the trigger on automatic. If she’d had her full combat pack, then there wouldn’t have been a problem. A few flash grenades at the right moment would have stunned the entire wave of demons, and a pulse assault rifle could have held them back for a few hundred years if necessary. As it was, she had one handgun, no backup, and a time surge gobbling half her rays. It seemed an impossible task to slow down Abbot and his goons long enough for Artemis to reach the bomb. And even if she did manage it, what then?
The demons kept coming, bent low and bobbing. They loosed bolts from their crossbows on the run, none of which were affected by the surge. Of course they wouldn’t be. The rays from her Neutrino were calibrated to have a short life once they made contact with air; they would dissipate after five seconds unless specifically reset to hold together for longer.
Thankfully the bolts were falling short, but not as short as they had been a few moments earlier. Time was running out, in more ways than one.
A group of daredevil imps made it past Holly’s arc of fire. Their method of travel was foolhardy and suicidal. Only idiot luck saved them from crushed skulls. Using a hide shield as a sled, three of them skidded down the crater’s inner slope, being tossed hither and thither by rocks and changes in gradient.
One second they were fifty yards away, and the ne
xt, Holly could smell the sweat glistening on their brow plates. Holly swung her gun barrel toward them, but it was too late, she could never make it. And even if she did, the others would use the distraction to make ground.
The imps were leering at her. Lips pulled back over sharp pointed teeth. One was especially agitated and had some kind of slime flowing from his pores.
The imps seemed to hang suspended in the air for the longest time, and then something happened. The air pulsed, and reality momentarily split into colored pixels like a faulty computer screen. Holly felt sick to her stomach, and the imps winked out of existence, taking a six foot diameter tube of the crater with them.
Holly fell back from the hole, which collapsed in on itself.
No1 fell to his knees and threw up.
“Magic,” he gasped. “Breaking down. The lure of Earth is stronger than silver now. No one is safe.”
Artemis and Qwan were in slightly better shape, but only slightly.
“I am older and have more control over my empathy,” said Qwan.“That’s why I didn’t throw up.”And having said that, he threw up.
Artemis didn’t even give the old warlock time to recover himself. There was no time. Time was surging and nraveling at once.
“Come on,” he said. “Forward.”
Holly backpedaled to her feet, pulling No1 to his. Behind them on the slopes, the demons had frozen at the sight of the disappearing imps, but now were advancing again with renewed determination. No doubt they believed that Holly was responsible for the disappearance of their little brothers.
Temporal booms echoed around the island as chunks of Hybras spun into the time tunnel. Some would materialize on Earth and some in space. It was doubtful that any demons unlucky enough to be transported would survive. Not without concentrated magic to forge a compass for them.
Artemis dragged himself the last few steps to the bomb, dropping to his knees beside it. He wiped ash from the readout with his sleeve, then spent a while studying it, nodding along with the flickering of its digital timer.
The numbers of the timer were behaving erratically: jumping forward, slowing down, and even backing up slightly. But Artemis knew that there would be a pattern in here somewhere. Magic was simply another form of energy, and energy conformed to certain rules. It was simply a matter of watching the timer and counting. It took a while, longer than they could afford, but eventually Artemis spotted the repeat. He ran the numbers quickly in his head.
“I see it,” he shouted to Qwan, who was on his knees beside him. “It’s mainly forward. An hour per second for a count of forty, followed by a deceleration to thirty minutes per second for a count of eighteen, then a slight jump backward in time, one minute per second back for a count of two. Then it repeats.”
Qwan smiled weakly. “What was the first one again?”
Artemis stood, heaving the bomb from its cradle of ash and fungus.
“Never mind. You need to prepare to transport this place. I’ll move the bomb to wherever you need it.”
“Very well, smart Mud Boy. But we still have only four magical beings. We need N’zall.”
Holly backed into the group, still firing. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Qwan nodded. “I have faith in you, Captain. Then again, I am a trusting person, and look where that got me.”
“Where do you want this?”
Qwan looked around. “We need to form a circle around it, so somewhere flat. Look, that level spot. There.”
Artemis began dragging the bomb toward the indicated spot. It wasn’t so far. Then they could all stand around in a ring and watch it explode.
Everyone had their jobs to do now. The chances of their tasks coming to fruition were slightly less than the chances of a dwarf-goblin marriage ever taking place. And a goblin would rather eat his own feet than marry a dwarf.
Artemis had to position the bomb. No1 and Qwan were in charge of spell-casting, and Holly had the unenviable tasks of keeping them all alive and persuading Abbot to join their group. And all this while the island was disintegrating around them.
The volcano was literally being torn apart. Huge segments vanished into space like parts of a giant 3-D jigsaw. In minutes, there would be nothing left to transport.
Qwan took No1’s hand in his own, leading him to the small level spot.
“Okay, young fellow. That thing you did up there with the soldiers, that was good. I was impressed. But this is the big time. I know you’re in pain. That’s just because you are now sensitive to the spell’s breakdown. But you have to ignore that. We have an island to move.”
No1 felt his tail vibrate nervously. “An island? An entire island?”
Qwan winked. “And everyone on it. No pressure.”
“What do we do?”
“I need only one thing from you. Call up your magic, every drop. Let it pass through me and I’ll do the rest.”
That sounded easy enough. But calling up magic when there were arrows flying and chunks of the countryside disappearing was about as easy as going to the toilet on command with a dozen people watching. Who all hated ou.
No1 closed his eyes and thought magical thoughts.
Magic. Come on, magic.
He tried to open the same doors in his mind as he had when he had conjured up the human soldiers. To his surprise, he found the magic came easier now, as if it were ready to come out. The cage had been opened and the beast was free. No1 felt the power surge through his arms, animating him like a puppet.
“Whoa there, big fellow,” said Qwan. “No need to blow my head off. Put a leash on it until it’s time to go.” The old warlock shouted to Artemis, his thin voice almost whipped away by sonic booms, “How long?”
Artemis was dragging the bomb with some difficulty, digging his heels into the crust and heaving. He couldn’t help thinking that Butler would have simply slung the bomb and its casing over one shoulder and hefted it onto the plateau.
“Count to three hundred. Maybe two ninety-nine. Providing the deterioration remains constant, which it should.”
Qwan had stopped listening after the words three hundred. He gripped No1’s hands tightly.
“Five minutes and we’re going home. Time to start the mantra.” Qwan closed his eyes and bobbled his head from side to side, muttering in the ancient demon tongue.
No1 could feel the power of the words shaping the magic into rising circles of blue fire around them. He held on to his new mentor and joined in, repeating the mantra as if his life depended on it. Which, of course, it did.
Holly now had to draw Abbot into their little group and persuade him to join the magic circle. It seemed, judging by the way he was waving his fancy sword, highly unlikely that he would do this voluntarily.
The demon attack was mostly in disarray now, what with large tracts of their surroundings flashing off into another dimension, but Abbot and his council members were as dogged as ever, forging ahead with barely a pause when some of their number disappeared.
Holly held her fire, wondering what would be the best way to communicate with the pride leader. She was a trained negotiator, and suspected from her own observations and what No1 had told her, that Abbot had Acquired Situational Narcissism. He was completely in love with himself and his own importance in the community. Narcissists would often chose to die rather than accept what they saw as demotion. To Abbot, Holly would represent someone who was trying to remove him as pride leader, and therefore someone to be dealt with immediately.
Great, thought Holly. No matter what dimension you’re in, there’s a bigheaded male trying to take over the world.
The demons were advancing in a ragged line. Abbot was at the head, urging his mesmerized troops forward. The red sky was splitting into interwoven tendrils behind his head. The world, as Abbot knew it, was ending, but still he would not give up his position. Death for all before disgrace for him.
“Call off your warriors, Abbot,”shouted Holly.“We can talk about this.”
Abbot did not
reply, as such. Not unless howling and stomping could count as a reply.
The demons were spreading out even more now, flanking her and avoiding being sucked off into another dimension all in one group. Abbot skidded ahead, digging his heels through the crust of ash, leaning his torso back to avoid tumbling. He was completely coated in ash now; even his ram’s horns were gray. Gray maelstroms trailed behind him as each lurch forward threw up a thousand flakes.
There’s nothing I can do, thought Holly. This guy wouldn’t listen to his own mother. If he knew who his mother was.
There was no way out. She would have to up the charge and knock him senseless for a couple of hours. Qwan would have to put Abbot in the magic circle unconscious.
“Sorry,” she said, and flicked up the power setting above the pistol’s thumb-rest.
Holly aimed with practiced accuracy. The beam that pulsed from the Neutrino’s barrel was a more dangerous red now, and should knock Abbot head over heels a couple of times.
I’ll try not to enjoy that sight, thought Holly.
It was a sight she never got to enjoy, for at that precise moment, the time surge reversed for a count of two. The beam disappeared into the past, and Holly felt like throwing up as her atoms were scrambled once again by time quandary. She caught a glimpse of her ghostly past self a couple of feet to her right. Out of focus past versions of the demons scrambled behind them like speed trails. Then the past was gone for another minute.
Abbot was still coming. Dangerously close now. Holly reckoned she had time for another shot. And with any luck, the demon council would lose their singularity of purpose with their leader out of the picture.
She adjusted her aim, then the world shattered before her like a broken mirror. A curved section of the earth rose above her like a tidal wave, then dematerialized in a glittering flurry of sparks. Holly caught a glimpse of alternate dimensions through the gaps. There was sun and space and enormous multi-tentacled creatures.
The sheer amount of magic present in the air squeezed Holly’s head like a vise. She vaguely noted as Artemis and the others succumbed to the magical overload.