The Seventh Dwarf (Artemis Fowl 1.5)

'Yessir. A Recon officer tracks runaway fairies to the surface, sir.'

'The surface, Short. Where the humans live. We have to be inconspicuous, blend in. Do you think you can do that?'

'Yes, Commander. I think I can.'

Root spat his cigar into a recycler. 'I wish I could believe that. And maybe I would, if it wasn't for that.' Root pointed a stiff finger at Holly's chest.

Holly looked down. Surely the commander wasn't upset about a few blobs of gel and the smell of fish.

He wasn't.

The text bar on her chest displayed one word in block capitals. It was the same word that she had shouted just as the hydrogel had frozen the text display: 'D'Arvit,' swore Holly, under her breath, which coincidentally was the same word frozen on her chest.

E1

The trio proceeded directly to E1: a pressure chute that emerged in Tara, Ireland. The corporals were not given any personal time to prepare, because they would not have any if they managed to graduate to Recon. Rogue fairies did not escape to the surface at a time prearranged with the police. They took off whenever it suited them, and a Recon officer had to be ready to follow.

They took an LEP shuttle up the chute to the surface. Holly had not been given any weaponry and her helmet had been confiscated. She had also been drained of magic by a pinprick to the thumb. The tack was left in until every drop of magic had been used to heal the wound.

Captain Trouble Kelp explained the logic to her as he used his own magic to seal the corporal's tiny wound. 'Sometimes you get stuck on the surface with nothing: no weapon, no communications, no magic. And you still have to track down a runner, who's probably trying to track you down. If you can't accomplish that, then you won't make it in Recon.'

Holly had expected this. They had all heard the initiation stories from other veterans. She wondered what kind of hellhole they would be dropped in, and what they would have to hunt.

Through the shuttle portholes, she watched the chute flash by. The chutes were vast subterranean magma vents that spiralled from the Earth's core to the surface. The fairy People had excavated several of these tunnels worldwide and built shuttle ports at both ends. As human technology grew more sophisticated, many of these stations had to be destroyed or abandoned. If the Mud People ever found a fairy port, they would have a direct line to Haven.

In times of emergency, Recon officers rode the magma flares that scoured these tunnels in titanium eggs. This was the fastest way to cover the five thousand miles to the surface. Today they were travelling as a group in an LEP shuttle at the relatively slow speed of eight hundred miles an hour. Root set the autopilot and came back to brief Holly.

'We are headed for the Tern Islands,' Commander Root said, activating a holographic map above the conference table. 'A small archipelago off the east coast of Ireland. To be more precise we are headed for Tern Mór — the main island. There is only one

inhabitant: Kieran Ross, a conservationist. Ross travels to Dublin once a month to make his report to the Department of the Environment. He generally stays over in the Morrison Hotel, and takes in a show at the Abbey Theatre. Our technical people have confirmed that he is booked into the hotel, so we have a thirty-six-hour window.'

Holly nodded. The last thing they needed was humans butting into their exercise. Realistic exercises were one thing, but not at the expense of the entire fairy nation.

Root stepped into the hologram, pointing at a spot on the map. 'We land here, at Seal Bay. The shuttle will drop you and Captain Kelp off on the beach. I will be deposited at another location. After that it's simple: you hunt me and I hunt you. Captain Kelp will record your progress for review. Once the exercise has been completed, I will evaluate your disk and see if you have what it takes to make it into Recon. Initiates are generally tagged half a dozen times over the course of the exercise, so don't worry about that. What's important is how difficult you make it for me.'

Root took a paintball pistol from a rack on the wall and tossed it to Holly. 'Of course, there is one way to get around the review and straight into the program. You tag me before I tag you, and you're in. No questions asked. But don't get your hopes up. I have centuries of above-ground experience, I'm running hot with magic and I have a shuttle full of weapons at my disposal.'

Holly was glad that she was already sitting down. She had spent hundreds of hours on simulators, but had only actually visited the surface twice. Once on a school tour of South American rainforests, and another time on a family holiday to Stonehenge. Her third visit was going to be a bit more exciting.

CHAPTER 3: The Island Of Broken Dreams

Tern Mór.

The sun scorched away the morning mist and Tern Mór gradually appeared off the Irish coast like a ghost island. One minute there was nothing there but cloudbanks, and the next the crags of Tern Mór cut through the haze.

Holly studied it through the porthole. 'Cheery place,' she noted.

Root chewed on his cigar. 'Sorry about that, Corporal. We keep asking the runaways to hide somewhere warm, but darned if they don't keep suiting themselves.'

The commander returned to the cockpit: it was time to switch back over to manual for the landing.

The island looked like something from a horror film. Dark cliffs reared from the ocean, spumes of foam slapping at the waterline. A line of greenery hung on desperately, flopping untidily over the edge like an unruly fringe of hair.

Nothing good is going to happen here, thought Holly.

Trouble Kelp slapped her on the shoulder, breaking through the gloom. 'Cheer up, Short. At least you got this far. A couple of days on the surface is worth any price. This place has air like you wouldn't believe. Sweet as heaven.'

Holly tried to smile, but she was too nervous. 'Does the commander usually handle initiations himself?'

'All the time. This is the first one-to-one though. Usually he tracks a half dozen or so, to keep himself amused. But you get him all to yourself, 'cause of the female thing. When you fail, Julius doesn't want the equal-rights office to have any reason to complain.'

Holly bristled. 'When I fail?'

Trouble winked at her. 'Did I say when? I meant if. Of course, if.'

Holly felt the tips of her pointed ears quiver. Was this entire trip a charade? Did the commander already have her report written?

They touched down on Seal Beach, which was remarkably devoid of seals or sand. The shuttle had a second skin of plasma screens that projected the surroundings on to the craft's outer plates. To the casual observer, when Trouble Kelp popped the hatch, it would seem like a door in the sky.

Holly and Trouble hopped out on to the pebbles, scurrying forward to avoid the jet wash.

Root opened a porthole. 'You've got twenty minutes to cry or say your prayers or whatever it is you females do, then I'm comin' a callin'.'

Holly's eyes were fierce. 'Yessir. I'm going to start crying presently. Soon as you're over the horizon.'

Root half smiled, half scowled. 'I hope your skills can pay the cheques your mouth is writing.'

Holly had no idea what a cheque was, but she decided that now was not the time to say that.

Root gunned the engine, taking off over the hillside in a low, looping arc. All that was visible of the craft was a faint translucent shimmer.

Holly found that she was suddenly cold. Haven was completely air-conditioned, and her traffic suit did not have heating coils. She noticed Captain Kelp adjusting the thermostat on his computer.

'Hey,' Trouble said. 'No need for two of us to be uncomfortable. I've already passed my initiation.'

'How many times did you get tagged?' Holly asked.

Trouble grimaced ruefully. 'Eight. And I was the best in the group. Commander Root moves quickly for an old-timer, plus he has a couple of million ingots worth of hardware at his disposal.'

Holly turned up her collar against the Atlantic wind. 'Any handy hints?'

'I'm afraid not. And once this camera starts rolling, I can't even talk to y

ou any more.' Captain Kelp touched a button on his helmet, and a red light winked at Holly. 'The only thing I can say is that if I were you, I'd get moving. Julius won't waste any time, so neither should you.'

Holly looked around. Make use of jour environment, the manuals said. Use what nature provides. That maxim wasn't much good to her here. The pebble beach was bordered by a steep rock face on two sides, with a steep mudslide incline on the third. It was the only way out, and she'd better take it before the commander had time to set himself up at the top. She double-timed it towards the slope, determined to make it out of this exercise with her self-respect intact.

Something shimmered in the corner of Holly's eye. She stopped in her tracks.

'That's hardly fair,' she said, pointing to the spot.

Trouble looked across the pebble beach. 'What?' he asked, even though he was not supposed to talk.