Artemis Fowl. The Lost Colony af-5

by Eoin Colfer

  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 especially 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 metres away, and the next Holly could smell the sweat glistening on their brow plates. Holly swung her gun barrel towards 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 coloured pixels like a faulty computer screen. Holly felt sick to her stomach and the imps winked out of existence, taking a two-metre diameter tube of the crater with them.

  Holly fell back from the hole, which collapsed in on itself.

  No.1 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 unravelling at the same time.

  'Come on,' he said. 'Forward.'

  Holly back-pedalled to her feet, pulling No.1 to his. Behind them on the slopes, the demons froze 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 read-out 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 seemingly 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 backwards 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 this bomb to wherever you need it.'

  'Very well, smart Mud Boy. But we still only have 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 considered. 'We need to form a circle round it, so somewhere flat.

  Look, that level spot. There.'

  Artemis began dragging the bomb towards the indicated spot. It wasn't so far. And then they could all stand round in a ring and watch it explode.

  Everyone had their jobs to do now. And 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. № 1 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 three-dimensional jigsaw. In minutes, there would be nothing left to transport.

  Qwan took No.1's hand in his own, leading him to the small level spot.

  'OK, 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 sensitive to the spell's breakdown. But you have to ignore that. We have an island to move.'

  No.1 felt his tail vibrate nervously. 'An island? An entire island?'

  Qwan winked. 'And everyone on it. No pressure.'

  'What do we do?'

  'I only need 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 you.

  No.1 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 was ready to come out. The cage had been opened and the beast was free. No.1 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 on to 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

  No.1'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.

  No.1 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 had a new mission now. Somehow she 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 the 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 was the best way to communicate with the pri
de leader. She was a trained negotiator, and suspected from her own observations and what No.1 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 big-headed male trying to take over the world.

  The demons were advancing in a ragged line. Abbot was at the head, waving his fancy sword, 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 waving a sword 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 grey. Grey 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 practised accuracy. The beam which 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 less than a metre 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 vice. She vaguely noted groaning behind her as Artemis and the others succumbed to the magical overload.

  But she could not succumb. Some of the demons may have been sucked up into the time tunnel, but there could be more left. The air shimmered and settled. Rivulets of dust and rock spilled from mid-air.

  Huge chasms yawned all around, with nothing below but red space.

  There was more emptiness now than land.

  Most of the demons were gone. Most, but not all. Abbot alone was left.

  Grinning maniacally, his sword extended before him.

  'Hello, elf,' he said, and plunged the sword into Holly's chest.

  Holly felt the steel slide through the delicate membrane of elfin skin, between the eighth and ninth ribs and lodge a millimetre below her heart. It was cold as ice and more painful than words can describe. She fell backwards, slipping off the slick blade, crashing through the crust of ash. Blood poured out of her like water from a ruptured vessel. Her own heart did gravity's work, emptying her veins with every beat.

  'Magic,' she gasped, through the pain.

  Abbot was jubilant. 'Magic cannot help you, elf. I've been working on this sword for a long time, in case the warlocks ever showed up. There's enough enchantment in this steel to stop an entire magic circle.' He shook the sword as he talked. Spittle sprayed from his mouth, and Holly's blood dripped from the blade, splattering lines on the ash.

  Holly coughed, the action felt like it was splitting her in two. Magic could not help her here. There was only one person who could.

  'Artemis,' she said, her voice weak and thin. 'Artemis, help me.'

  Artemis Fowl glanced her way briefly, then returned his gaze to the bomb's timer, leaving Holly Short to die on the ground. Which she did.

  Chapter 15: HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN:

  Artemis was hauling the bomb when the big shift came. The magical overspill hit him like a rugby tackle, driving him to his knees. For a moment his senses were completely overloaded and he was left gasping in a vacuum. Sight was first to return, distorted by tears and stars.

  He checked the bomb's timer. Three minutes to go, providing the pattern did not disintegrate. He glanced to his left where Qwan and N°l were returning to the business of conjuring, while over his right shoulder Holly was holding whatever demons were left. All around, the world was vibrating itself out of this existence. The noise was hellacious and the smell coated the inside of his nostrils. The bomb was heavy enough to make Artemis's knuckles crack, and not for the first time, he wished Butler was at his side to take the strain. But he wasn't at his side, and wouldn't be again if Artemis did not get going. It was a simple plan: move the box to the plateau. Object A to point B. There was no sense in thinking about it.

  Then Holly got stabbed and the plan got a lot more complicated.

  Artemis saw the blade going in out of the corner of his eye. And worse still he heard the sound it made. A clean snick, like a key going into a lock.

  This can't be real, he thought. We have been through too much together for Holly to be taken so quickly.

  The sound the sword made coming out of Holly was hideous beyond imagination. Artemis knew that he would take that sound to his own grave.

  Abbot was gloating now. 'Magic cannot help you, elf. I've been working on this sword for a long time.'

  Artemis sank to his haunches, fighting the urge to crawl to Holly's side.

  Magic could not help Holly, but perhaps a combination of magic and science could. He forced himself to ignore the spurts of deep red blood seeping from her wound. There was nothing in Holly Short's future but death.

  Her current future. But the future could be changed.

  No.1 and Qwan had not seen the assault. They were deep in concentration, building the blue rings. Abbot was moving towards them now. The tip of his sword dripped blood on the ash like a leaky pen joining the dots to his next victims.

  Holly spoke her last. 'Artemis,' she said. 'Artemis, help me.'

  Artemis glanced at her. Once. Briefly. He shouldn't have. The sight of his friend dying almost threw off his count. And right now, the count was the most important thing.

  Holly died without a friend to hold her hand. Artemis felt her go — another gift of the magic. He kept on counting, brushing away the tears on his cheeks.

  Keep counting. That's all that matters.

  Artemis rose, walking swiftly to his fallen friend. Abbot saw him go. He pointed the sword in Artemis's direction.

  'You're next, Mud Boy. First the warlocks, then you. Once you are gone, things will return to how they were.'

  Artemis ignored him, nodding along with the count in his head, making sure not to rush. The count must be accurate or all was lost.

  Abbot elbowed his way between Qwan and No.1. They were so focused that they barely realized that he was there. With two strokes of his cursed sword, the job was done. No.1 fell backwards, blue magic trailing from his fingers. Qwan did not fall, because the tip of Abbot's sword wa
s keeping him upright.

  Artemis did not look into Holly's eyes. He could not. Instead he prised the handgun from her hand and pointed it away from him.

  Be careful now. Timing is everything.

  Abbot yanked his sword from Qwan's chest, and the small body slumped lifelessly to the ground. Three dead in less time than it would take to tie a shoelace.

  Artemis ignored the last breaths and the rhythmic crunching of ash that told him Abbot was coming. Not that the demon was trying to hide it.

  'I'm back here, human. Why don't you see if you can turn round in time.'

  Artemis searched the volcano floor around Holly for footprints. There were many, but only two side by side, where Abbot had stood as he struck. All the while, he counted, remembering his own calculations.

  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 backwards in time, one minute per second back for a count of two. Then it repeats.

  'Maybe I'll keep you,' chuckled Abbot, prodding Artemis's back with his sword. 'It'd be nice to have a pet human around. I could teach you tricks.'

  'I have a trick for you,' said Artemis, and he fired a single blast from the gun.

  The blast exited the barrel, and then was whipped one minute into the past, just as Artemis had calculated it would be. It faded from the present and emerged just in time to strike the ghostly image of Abbot as he drew back his sword to thrust it into Holly.

  The Abbot of one minute ago was lifted and tossed against the crater wall.

  The present-time Abbot had barely time to say, 'What happened?' before he winked out of existence, no longer flesh, merely unrealized possibility.

  'You didn't kill my friends,' replied Artemis, though he was talking to himself. 'That never happened.'

  Artemis glanced down nervously. Holly was no longer there. Thank God.

  Another quick glance told him that Qwan and No.1 were back building their magic circle, as if nothing had happened.

  Of course not. Nothing did happen.

  Artemis concentrated on the memory. Picturing Abbot spinning through the air. He wrapped the incident in magic to preserve it.