The giant Eurasian disentangled himself from the remains of the rafters. He really had been amazingly lucky not to be impaled on the beams. The mattress had absorbed most of the impact, and the timbers were rotten and had splintered harmlessly.
Butler dropped to the floor, brushing dust from his suit. His priority now was to find Artemis. It seemed likely that whoever had made the attempt on his life had taken the boy. Although, why would someone try to kill him and then take him prisoner? Unless their unknown enemy had taken advantage of the situation and decided to seek a ransom.
Butler returned to the hotel room, where everything was as they had left it. There was absolutely no sign that anything had exploded in here. The only unusual things revealed by Butler’s investigations were small clusters of dead insects and spiders. Curious. It was as though the blue flash of light only affected living things, leaving buildings unaffected.
A blue rinse, said his subconscious, but his conscious self took no notice.
Butler quickly packed Artemis’s box of tricks, and of course his own. The weapons and surveillance equipment would be held in a safe-deposit box at the airport. He left the Kronski Hotel without checking out. An early checkout would arouse suspicion, and with any luck, this entire matter could be resolved before the students on the school trip returned home.
The bodyguard collected the Hummer in the hotel car park and set off for the airport. If Artemis had been kidnapped, then the kidnappers would contact Fowl Manor with their ransom demand. If Artemis had simply removed himself from danger, he had always been told to head for home. Either way, the trail led to Fowl Manor, so that was where Butler intended to go.
Temple Bar, Dublin, Ireland
Artemis had recovered sufficiently for his natural curiosity to surface. He walked around the cramped room, touching the spongy surface of the walls.
“What is this place? Some form of surveillance hide?”
“Exactly,” said Holly. “I was on stakeout here a few months ago. A group of rogue dwarfs were meeting their jewelry fences here. From the outside, this is just another patch of sky on top of a building. It’s a cham pod.”
“Cam, camouflage?”
“No, cham, chameleon. This suit is cam, camouflage.”
“You do know, I suppose, that chameleons don’t actually change color to suit their surroundings. They change according to mood and temperature.”
Holly looked out over Temple Bar. Below them thousands of tourists, musicians, and residents were winding their way through the small artisans’ streets.
“You’d have to tell Foaly about that. He names all this stuff.”
“Ah, yes,” said Artemis. “Foaly. He is a centaur, is he not?”
“That’s right.” Holly turned to face Artemis. “You’re taking this very calmly. Most humans completely freak out when they find out about us. Some go into shock.”
Artemis smiled. “I am not most humans.”
Holly turned back to the view. She was not going to argue with that statement.
“So tell me, Captain Short. If all I am to the Fairy People is a threat, why did you heal me?”
Holly rested her forehead against the cham pod’s translucent face.
“It’s our nature,” she replied. “And of course, I need you to help me to find Opal Koboi. We’ve done it before, we can do it again.”
Artemis stood beside her at the window. “So, first you mind-wipe me, and now you need me?”
“Yes, Artemis. Gloat all you like. The mighty LEP need your help.”
“Of course, there is the matter of my fee,” said Artemis, buttoning his jacket across the bloodstain on his shirt.
Holly rounded on him. “Your fee? Are you serious? After all the Fairy People have done for you? Can’t you just do something good for once in your life?”
“Obviously you elves are an emotional race. Humans are slightly more business-minded. Here are the facts: you are a fugitive from justice, on the run from a murdering pixie genius. You have no funds and few resources. I am the only one who can help you track down this Opal Koboi. I think that’s worth a few bars of anybody’s gold.”
Holly glowered at him. “Like you said, Mud Boy. I don’t have any resources.”
Artemis spread his hands magnanimously. “I’m prepared to accept your word. If you can guarantee me one metric ton of gold from your hostage fund, I will devise a plan to defeat this Opal Koboi.”
Holly was in a hole and she knew it. There was no doubt that Artemis could give her the edge over Opal, but it galled her to pay someone who used to be a friend. “And what if Koboi defeats us?”
“If Koboi defeats and presumably murders us both, then you can consider the debt null and void.”
“Great,” growled Holly. “It would almost be worth it.”
She left the window and began raiding the pod’s medical chest. “You know something, Artemis. You’re exactly how you were when we first met: a greedy Mud Boy who doesn’t care about anyone beside himself. Is that really how you want to be for the rest of your life?”
Artemis’s features remained static, but below the surface his emotions were in turmoil. Of course he was right to ask for a fee. It would be stupid not to. But even asking had made him feel guilty. It was this idiotic newfound conscience. His mother seemed to be able to activate it at will, and this fairy creature could do it too. He would have to keep a tighter check on his emotions.
Holly finished raiding the cabinet. “Well, Mister Consultant, what’s our first move?”
Artemis did not hesitate. “There are only two of us, and we are not very tall. We need reinforcements. As we speak, Butler will be making for Fowl Manor. He may be there already.”
Artemis turned on his cell phone and speed dialed Butler. A recorded message told him that the customer he was trying to reach was not available. He declined the offer to try again, instead dialing Fowl Manor. An answering machine cut in after the third ring. Obviously his parents had already left for the spa in Westmeath.
“Butler,” said Artemis to the recorder. “You are well, I hope. I myself am fine. Listen very carefully to what I have to tell you, and believe me, every word is true . . .” Artemis proceeded to summarize the day’s events. “We will arrive at the manor shortly. I suggest we stock up on essentials and proceed to a safe house . . .”
Holly tapped him on the shoulder. “We should get out of here. Koboi is no fool. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had some backup plan in case we survived.”
Artemis covered the mouthpiece with his palm. “I agree. That is what I would do. This Koboi person is probably on her way right now.”
As if on cue, one of the pod walls fizzled and dissolved. Opal Koboi stood in the hole, flanked by Merv and Scant Brill. The pixie twins were armed with transparent plastic handguns. Merv’s gun barrel glowed gently in the aftermath of his wall-melting shot.
“Murderer!” shouted Holly, reaching for her gun. Merv casually put a blast close enough to her head to singe her eyebrows. Holly froze, raising her hands in submission.
“Opal Koboi, I presume?” said Artemis; although, if Holly had not told him the whole story, he never would have guessed that the female before him was anything but a human child. Her black hair was braided down her back, and she wore a checked pinafore of the type worn by a million schoolgirls around the world. Her ears were, of course, rounded.
“Arte
mis Fowl, how nice to see you again. I do believe that in different circumstances we could have been allies.”
“Circumstances change,” said Artemis. “Perhaps we can still be allies.”
Holly chose to give Artemis the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was acting like a traitor to save their skins. Maybe.
Opal fluttered her long, curved eyelashes. “Tempting, but no. I feel the world is only large enough for one child genius. And now that I’m pretending to be a child, that genius would be me. Meet Belinda Zito, a girl with big plans.”
Holly reached a hand toward her weapon, but stopped when Merv leveled his transparent handgun at her.
“I know you,” she said to the Brill brothers. “The Pixie twins. You were on TV.”
Scant couldn’t hold back a grin. “Yes, on Canto. It was the season’s highest-rated show. We’re thinking of writing a book, aren’t we, Merv? All about how we . . .”
“Finish each other’s sentences,” completed Merv, though he knew it would cost him.
“Shut up, you utter imbecile,” snapped Opal, shooting Merv a poisonous glare. “Keep your weapon up and your mouth closed. This is not about you; it is about me. Remember that and I might not have to liquidize the pair of you.”
“Yes, of course, Miss Koboi. It’s all about you.”
Opal almost purred. “That’s right. It’s always about me. I am the only important one here.”
Artemis casually slipped one hand into his pocket. The one holding the cell phone that was still connected to Fowl Manor.
“If I may, Miss Koboi. This delusion of self-importance is common among those recently awakened from comas. It is known as the Narcissus Syndrome. I wrote a paper on this precise subject for the Psychologists Yearbook, under the pseudonym Sir E. Brum. You have spent so much time in your own company, so to speak, that everyone else has become unreal. . . .”
Opal nodded at Merv. “For heaven’s sake, shut him up.”