by Eoin Colfer
“My first suit,” said Artemis fondly. “For the family Christmas postcard. I had no idea really how to wear it. I remember fidgeting throughout the fitting. It’s a Zegna, custom made.”
Holly tore off a protective polyethylene wrap. “So long as it fits.”
It was only then that Artemis’s emotions settled enough for him to register Holly’s comment.
“What do you mean, I have let myself go?”
Holly swung the wardrobe door so that its mirrored side faced Artemis.
“See for yourself,” she said.
Artemis looked. In the mirror he saw a tall, slender boy, his face all but invisible under a wild mop of shoulder-length hair and even some bristles on his chin.
“Ah. I see.”
“I’m surprised you do,” said Holly. “Through all that hair.”
“Accelerated aging. A side effect of the time stream,” Artemis hypothesized, unconcerned. “When we return, the effects should be reversed.” He paused, catching sight of Holly’s reflection. “Perhaps you should check yourself in the mirror. I am not the only one to have changed.”
Holly elbowed him aside, certain she was being kidded, but the half-smile died on her lips when she saw the fairy in the looking glass. It was her own face, but different, missing a few scars and a few decades’ wear and tear.
“I am young,” she gasped. “Younger.”
“Don’t be upset,” said Artemis briskly. “It is temporary. All this is nothing more than dress-up. My physical maturity, your youth. In a moment or two we will be back in the stream.”
But Holly was upset. She knew how this had happened.
I was thinking of Mother. Of our last hours together. Of how I was then.
And so that was how she had changed.
Look at me. Just out of the academy. In human terms, barely older than Artemis.
For some reason, this was a disturbing thought.
“Get some pants on,” she snapped, buttoning a crisp white shirt up to her neck. “Then we can discuss your theories.”
Artemis used his extra inches to reach up and tug a large box from the top of the wardrobe. In it were neatly folded layers of clothes, destined for one of Angeline Fowl’s charity shops.
He tossed a silver wig to Holly.
“Seventies fancy dress party,” he explained. “Mother went as a starship trooper, I seem to remember. Now cover those pointy ears.”
“A hat would be easier,” said Holly, pulling the wig over her auburn crew cut.
“No such luck, I’m afraid,” sighed Artemis, selecting an old tracksuit from the box. “This is not exactly Harrods; we will have to make do.”
Artemis’s old loafers fit Holly well enough, and there were a pair of his father’s sneakers in the box, which stayed on his feet when the toes were stuffed.
“Always good to be dressed when you’re stealing monkeys,” said Holly.
Artemis rolled up the tracksuit sleeves. “There’s no need to dress at all, really. We simply wait for a few minutes, until my mother almost catches Butler sneaking upstairs with the lemur. I remember him sliding the cage through the doorway, then I brought her back upstairs. The moment that cage comes in here, we grab it, take off these ridiculous clothes, and wish our way back to No1.”
Holly checked herself in the mirror. She looked like a presidential bodyguard—from another planet. “That sounds so simple.”
“It was simple. Will be. Butler never even entered the study. All we need to do is stand here and wait.”
“And how did you find this particular moment?”
Artemis swept a sheaf of black hair back from his brow, revealing mismatched sorrowful eyes.
“Listen,” he said, pointing toward the ceiling.
Holly tucked strands of silver hair behind one ear and cocked her head to one side to focus her considerable sense of hearing. She heard the grandfather clock, and the time travelers’ beating hearts, but above them there was a strident, hysterical voice.
“Mother,” said Artemis, eyes downcast. “It was the first time that she did not recognize me. She is at this moment threatening to call the police. In a moment she runs downstairs to the phone, and discovers Butler.”
Holly understood. How could any son forget a moment like that one? Finding it again must have been easy and painful.
“I remember it clearly. We had just returned from Rathdown Park, the private zoo, and I thought I should check how she was feeling before flying to Morocco. In a month from now, she won’t be able to look after herself anymore.”
Holly squeezed his forearm. “It’s fine, Artemis. This is all in the past. In a few minutes your mother will be back on her feet. She will love you as she always has.”
Artemis nodded glumly. He knew it was probably true, but he also knew that he would never fully escape the specter of this bad memory.
Upstairs, Angeline Fowl’s voice moved from her bedchamber to the upper landing, trailing shrill notes behind her.
Artemis pulled Holly back against the wall.
“Butler will be on the stairs now. We should keep to the shadows, just in case.”
Holly couldn’t help a flutter of nerves. “You’re sure he stays outside? The last time I faced Butler as an enemy, I had the entire LEP on my side. I don’t relish the thought of meeting him armed with nothing more than a silver wig.”
“Calm yourself, Captain,” said Artemis, unconsciously patronizing. “He stays outside. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Saw what with your own eyes?” asked Butler, who had appeared in the archway behind them, having let himself in through the adjoining bedroom door.
Artemis felt his pulse throb in his fingertips. How could this be? This was not the way it had happened. Artemis had never been on the receiving end of Butler’s glare before, and understood for the first time just how terrifying his bodyguard could be.
“You two kids have been helping yourselves to the Fowl wardrobe, I see,” continued Butler without waiting for an answer to his question. “Now, are you going to cause a fuss or are you going to come quietly? Let me give you a hint: the correct answer is come quietly.”
Magic is the only way out, Holly realized.
She twisted her chin sharply to call on her fairy power. If she couldn’t stun Butler, she would mesmerize him.
“Stand down, human,” she intoned, voice loaded with hypnotic magic. But the mesmer is a two-pronged attack, audio and visual. Butler could hear the magical words, but eye contact was not consistent in the shadows.
“What?” he said, surprised. “How did you . . .” The hulking bodyguard had been drugged enough times to realize that his will was being sapped. Somehow these kids were putting him under. He staggered backward, his shoulder bashing against the arch.
“Sleep, Butler,” said the little one in the starship trooper wig.
She knows me?
This was serious. These two had done some surveillance and decided to break in anyway.
I have to neutralize them before I pass out, thought Butler. If I go down, Master Artemis and Mrs. Fowl are defenseless.
He had two options: fall on the midget burglars or shoot them with the tranquilizer pistol he was carrying for the planned animal abduction at Rathdown Park.
He chose the second option. At least tranquilizer darts would not smother these two or crush their bones. Butler felt mildly guilty about his decision to “tranq” a couple of kids, but not overly so; after all, he worked for Artemis Fowl and knew exactly how dangerous children could be.
The starship trooper came out of the shadows, and Butler could see her eyes clearly. One blue, one tawny.
“Sleep, Butler,” she said again in that melodious layered voice. “Aren’t your eyelids heavy? Sleep.”
She’s hypnotizing me! Butler realized. He dragged out the pistol with fingers that felt as though they had been dipped in molten rubber then sprinkled with ball bearings.
“You sleep,” he mumbled, then shot the girl in the hip.
Holly stared in disbelief at the hypodermic dart sticking out of her leg.
“Not again,” she moaned, then collapsed to the floor.
Butler’s head cleared immediately. The other intruder did not move an inch.
The little girl is the professional of the two, thought Butler, climbing to his feet. I wonder what this scruffy individual contributes to the partnership.
Artemis quickly saw that he had no choice but to reveal his identity and enlist Butler as an ally.
This will be difficult. I have nothing more than a passing resemblance to my younger self as proof.
Still, he had to try before his plan unraveled utterly.
“Listen, Butler,” he began. “I have something to tell you—”
Butler didn’t entertain another word. “No, no, no,” he said briskly, shooting Artemis in the shoulder. “No more talking from either of you.”
Artemis pulled out the dart, but it was too late. The tiny reservoir of sedative was empty.
“Butler!”he gasped, dropping to his knees.“You shot me.”
“Everyone knows my name,” sighed the bodyguard, bending to sling the intruders over his shoulders.
“I am intrigued,” said ten-year-old Artemis Fowl, studying the two individuals in the Bentley trunk. “Something extraordinary has happened here.”
“Hardly extraordinary,” said Butler, checking the girl’s pulse. “Two thieves somehow broke into the manor.”
“They bypassed all the security. Not so much as a blip on the motion sensors?”
“Nothing. I just happened on them during a routine sweep. Hiding in the shadows, wearing cast-offs from the wardrobe.”
Artemis tapped his chin. “Hmm. So you didn’t find their clothes.”
“Not a stitch.”
“Which would mean that they broke in here and bypassed security in their underwear.”
“That is extraordinary,” admitted Butler.
Artemis took a penlight from his jacket pocket and shone it on Holly, setting the strands of her silver wig sparkling like a disco ball. “There’s something about this one. Her bone structure is very unusual. The cheekbones are high, Slavic, perhaps, and the brow is wide and childlike. But the proportion of skull to torso is adult, not infant.”
Butler chuckled low in his throat. “So they’re aliens?”
“The young man is human, but she’s something else,” said Artemis thoughtfully. “Genetically enhanced, perhaps.” He moved the beam of light along her cheekbone.“See here. The ears are pointed. Amazing.”
Artemis felt an excitement buzzing on his forehead. Something was happening here. Something important. There were surely serious amounts of money to be earned from this situation.
He rubbed his palms briskly. “Very well. I cannot be distracted by this now. Long term, this strange creature could make our fortune, but right now we need to get that lemur.”
Butler was crestfallen but covered it by slamming the trunk. “I had hoped we could forget the monkey. I was trained in several forms of martial arts; none of them had a monkey defense.”
“It’s a lemur, Butler. And I am aware that you believe this operation is beneath us, but my father’s life is at stake.”
“Of course, Artemis. Whatever you say.”
“Exactly. So here is the plan. We will proceed to Rathdown Park as planned, and after we have done the deal with the Extinctionists, then I can decide what to do with our two guests. I presume they will be safe in the trunk?”
Butler snorted. “Are you kidding?”
Artemis did not smile. “Perhaps you have not noticed, Butler. I rarely kid.”
“As you say, young master. You are not a kidder. Maybe someday, eh?”
“Perhaps when I find my father.”
“Yes. Perhaps then. Anyway, to answer your question: this is your father’s car, and there have been more prisoners in this trunk than you’ve had birthdays. Mafiya, Triad, Yakuza, Tijuana Cartel, Hells Angels. You name the gang, and a couple of them have spent a night in this trunk. In fact, your father had it specially modified. There’s air-conditioning, a stay-cool light, soft suspension, and even drinking water.”
“Is it secure? Remember, our captives already broke into the manor.”
Butler closed the trunk. “Titanium lock, reinforced trunk door. No way out whatsoever. Those two are staying in there until we let them out.”
“Excellent,” said Artemis, sliding into the Bentley’s rear seat. “Just give me a moment to do this one little thing, then let’s forget about them and concentrate on the lemur.”
“Excellent,” echoed Butler, and then under his breath, “Monkey business. My favorite.”
Rathdown Park
Even though Holly was ten pounds lighter than Artemis, she came to her senses before him. She was glad to be awake, as her dream had been terrible. While she was asleep, her knees and elbows struck the metal walls of the Bentley trunk, and she had imagined herself in an LEP submarine.
Holly lay huddled in the dark, swallowing and blinking to conquer the phobia. Her mother had been mortally injured in a metal box, and now she was inside one.
And it was thoughts of her mother that finally calmed Holly. She opened her eyes and explored the confined space with her vision and fingertips. It didn’t take long to find the bubble light set into the steel wall. She snapped it on to find Artemis stretched beside her, and the sloping metal sheeting of a trunk door curling down past his arm. Her own borrowed shoes rested on the shining curve of a wheel arch. They were inside a vehicle.
Artemis groaned, twitched, and opened his eyes.
“Sell the Phonetix shares,” he blurted, then remembered Butler and the darts. “Holly. Holly?”
Holly patted his leg. “It’s okay, Artemis,” she said in Gnommish, in case the car was bugged. “I’m here. Where else could I be?”
Artemis shifted onto his side, flicking back the dense black hair obscuring his features, and spoke in the fairy tongue.
“We received the same dosage of tranquilizer, and yet you, the lighter person, are awake first. Magic?”
The side of Holly’s face was thrown into deep shadow by the bubble light. “Yes. No1’s signature magic is powerful stuff.”
“Powerful enough to get us out of here?”
Holly spent a minute exploring the trunk’s surface, running her fingertips along each weld in the metal. Finally she shook her head, silver wig sparkling. “Not a weak spot I can find. Even the air-conditioning vent is completely flush. No way out.”
“Of course not,” said Artemis. “We’re inside the Bentley. The trunk is a steel box with a titanium lock.” He breathed the cool air deeply.“How can this have happened? Everything is different. Butler was supposed to have deposited the cage in my study. Instead he creeps in through the bedroom and sedates us both. Now we don’t know where we are, or indeed where the lemur is. Do they have it already?”
Holly pressed one ear to the trunk door. “I can tell you where we are.”
Outside, the sounds of snuffling and snoring animals drifted on the air.“We’re close to animals. A park, I would guess, or a zoo.”
“Rathdown Park,” exclaimed Artemis. “And that fact tells us they do not, in fact, have the lemur. The schedule and situation have changed.”
Holly was thoughtful. “We are not in control of this situation anymore, Artemis. Perhaps it’s time to admit defeat and return home, when your younger self brings us back to the manor. Perhaps you can discover a cure in the future.”
Artemis had been expecting this suggestion. “I considered that. The lemur is still our best option, and we are just a few feet away from it. Give me five minutes to get us out of here.”
Holly was understandably dubious. “Five minutes? Even the great Artemis Fowl might have trouble breaking out of a steel box in five minutes.”
Artemis closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to ignore his cramped surroundings and the sheaves of hair brushing his cheeks, and the itch of
bristles on his chin.
“Face it, Artemis,”said Holly impatiently.“We’re stuck. Even Mulch Diggums would probably struggle with a lock like that if he happened to stroll by.”
Artemis’s brow flickered, irritated by this interruption, but then a smile spread across his face, made eerie by the stark lighting.
“Mulch Diggums strolling by,” he whispered. “What are the chances of that?”
“Zero,” said Holly. “Absolutely none. I would bet my pension on it.”
At that moment something, or someone, tapped on the trunk door from the outside.
Holly rolled her eyes. “No. Not even you . . .”
Artemis’s smile was smug beyond belief. “Just how large is your pension?”
“I do not believe it. I refuse to believe it. It is impossible.”
More taps on the door now, followed by a delicate scraping and a muted swearword.
“What a guttural voice,” said Artemis. “Very like a dwarf’s.”
“It could be Butler,” argued Holly, irritated by Artemis’s self-satisfied expression.
“Swearing in Gnommish. Hardly.”
More metallic noises from the outside world.
Shhhnick. Chunk. Clackack.
And the trunk’s lid swung upward, revealing a slice of starry night with the glinting silhouette of a gigantic pylon behind it. A bedraggled head popped into the space, features smeared with mud and worse. This was a face that only a mother could love, and then perhaps only if her sight were failing. The dark close-set eyes peered out from above a dense beard that shivered slightly, like seaweed in a current. The creature’s teeth were large, square, and not made any more appealing by the large insect wriggling between two molars.
It was, of course, Mulch Diggums.
The dwarf snagged the unfortunate insect with his tongue, then chewed it delicately.
“Ground beetle,” he said with relish. “Leistus montanus. Nice bouquet, solid earthy shell; then once the carapace cracks, a veritable explosion of flavors on the palate.”
He swallowed the unfortunate creature, then funneled a mighty burp though his flapping lips.
“Never burp when you’re tunneling,” he advised Artemis and Holly as casually as though they were sitting around a café table. “Dirt coming down, air coming up. Not a good idea.”