Holly had been crouched on the mass damper watching events unfold. So far, everything had gone according to plan. Minerva had reached Artemis, and Butler had hustled them both to the elevator. At the other end of the bar, Billy Kong was doing his whole grinning-psycho bit. When this was all over, that Mud Man would have to be mind-wiped. There would be quite a few loose ends to clear up, actually. Not by her, though; she was not LEP anymore. After this she would be lucky to be Section 8.
Holly tapped a button on her wrist computer, zooming in on No1. The imp raised his left hand. The signal. This was it. Time to test theories. It was either hello again or good-bye forever.
Artemis’s plan was a risky one because his calculations were theoretical, but it was the only chance to save the demon island. And Artemis had been right so far. If Holly had to rely on someone’s theories, she would prefer those theories to be Artemis Fowl’s.
As Holly watched No1 drop the silver slug and disappear, she could not resist snapping a photo of Kong’s face with her helmet camera. His reaction was priceless. They would have a good laugh over that later.
Then she activated her wings, rising above the giant silver ball, watching for signs.
Seconds later, a faint blue electrical rectangle began spinning at the silver ball’s crown, exactly where Artemis had known it would. No1 was coming back. Just as Artemis had predicted.
Such a large mass of silver within ten feet should interrupt No1’s journey home. It should cause a momentary materialization at the summit, where the damper’s energy field is most concentrated. You, Holly, have to be there to make sure this momentary materialization becomes more permanent.
On the mass damper, No1’s shape was visible inside the glowing rectangle. He seemed a little confused, as though half asleep. One arm snaked through into this world, grasping at reality. It was enough for Holly. She darted down and clamped a silver bracelet around No1’s gray wrist. The ghostly fingers wiggled, then solidified. Solidity sped along No1’s arm like gray paint, rescuing him from limbo. In seconds, where there had only been space, now crouched a shivering creature.
“Did I go?” asked the little imp. “Am I back?”
“Yes and yes,” said Holly. “Now stay quiet and still. We have to get you out of here.”
The mass damper swung slowly, dissipating the wind power buffeting Taipei 101. Holly leaned into the sway, grabbed hold of No1, and took off vertically, careful to keep her cargo shielded by the seven hundred ton silver ball.
The next floor up was another observation deck, but it was closed for renovation. A single workman was slicing carpet for a corner section, and he did not seem surprised to see a muumuu-clad imp come sailing over the railing.
“Hey,” he said. “It’s an imp in a muumuu. You know something, imp?”
No1 landed on the floor with a thump. “No,” he said cautiously. “Tell me something.”
“I am not a bit surprised to see you,” said the man. “In fact, you are so unremarkable, that I am going to forget all about you as soon as you’ve gone.”
No1 picked himself up, straightening his bonnet. “You’ve had a talk with him, I see.”
Holly switched off her shield and speckled into view. “I gave him a blast of the mesmer.” She peered over the railing, down into the restaurant. “Come here, No1. You’ll enjoy this.”
No1 placed his fingers against the glass. Kong and his cronies were creating chaos below, blundering toward the elevators. Kong was particularly perturbed, barging ourists from his path and overturning tables.
“We probably don’t have time for this,” said No1.
“Probably not,” agreed Holly. Neither fairy moved.
“Hey, look,” said the workman. “Another fairy. How utterly unremarkable.”
Only when the Toshiba elevator doors had closed behind Billy Kong and his crew, did Holly turn to leave.
“Where to now?” asked No1, wiping a happy tear from his eye.
“Now we go to stage two,” replied Holly, pressing the button for the elevator. “Time to save Hybras.”
“Never a dull moment,” said No1, scurrying into the metal box. “Hey, my first cliché.”
Artemis and Butler had watched Minerva cross the restaurant toward them. She held herself with considerable courage under the circumstances. Her chin was up and she had a determined look in her eye.
“Butler, can I ask you something?” said Artemis.
Butler was trying to keep an eye on every single person in the restaurant.
“I’m a little busy at the moment, Artemis.”
“Nothing taxing. Just a ‘yes’or‘no’answer. Is it normal, during puberty, to feel these blasted feelings of attraction at stressful times? During a ransom drop, for instance.”
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“Extremely. And funny, too—remember that quark joke?”
“I do. We must have a talk about jokes someday. Perhaps Minerva could join us. And in response to your question, it is normal. The more stressful the situation, the more your body pumps out the hormones.”
“Good. Back to business, then.”
Minerva didn’t rush. She picked her way around tourists and tables as she walked steadily toward them.
When she drew level, Butler placed a guiding and protective hand on her back.
“Get kidnapped every day, do you?” he growled, steering her toward the elevator.
Artemis followed, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure they were not being pursued. Kong was not even looking at them, so happy was he with his prize.
The elevator opened and the trio stepped inside. On the elevator wall, the floor light was rapidly winking downward.
Artemis held out his hand to Minerva. “Artemis Fowl the Second. Pleased to meet you finally.”
Minerva shook his hand warmly. “Minerva Paradizo. Likewise. You gave up your demon for me. I do appreciate it.” She blushed slightly.
The elevator slowed to a smooth stop, and the steel doors slid open with barely a hiss.
Minerva peeked out. “This is not the lobby. Why aren’t we leaving?”
Artemis stepped out onto the fortieth floor. “Our work here is not finished. I need to get our demon back, and it’s about time you knew what you almost went up against.”
CHAPTER 12
HEART OF STONE
Taipei 101, 40th Floor, Kimsichiog Gallery
Artemis strode through the Kimsichiog Gallery lobby, flanked by Butler and Minerva.
“We’re in an art gallery,” said Minerva. “Do we really have time for art?”
Artemis halted, surprised. “There’s always time for art,” he said. “But we’re here for a very special piece of art.”
“Which is?”
Artemis pointed at painted silk banners hanging at regular intervals from the ceiling. Each banner was emblazoned with a single dramatic spiraling rune.
“I follow what is happening in the art world. This exhibition is of particular interest to me. The centerpiece is the remains of a fantastic sculpture. A semicircle of strange dancing creatures. Maybe ten thousand years old. Believed to have been found off the shore of Ireland, and yet here it is, in Taiwan, being exhibited by an American oil
company.”
“Artemis, why are we here? I need to get home to my father.”
“Don’t you recognize the rune? Haven’t you seen it somewhere?”
Minerva remembered immediately. “Mais oui! Certainement. It is the rune from the demon’s forehead. The very same.”
Artemis snapped his fingers and continued walking.
“Exactly. When I met No1, I knew his markings looked familiar. It took me a while to remember where I had seen them before, but once I knew, then it occurred to me that maybe this sculpture was not a sculpture at all.”
Minerva’s brain raced ahead. “It was the ring of warlocks. From the original time spell.”
“Precisely. What if they were not blasted into space? What if one of them had had the quick thinking to use the gargoyle’s touch, to turn them all to stone?”
“And if No1 is a warlock, then he is the only one who can reanimate them.”
“Very good, Minerva. You catch on quick. Young, quick, and arrogant. You remind me of someone. Who could that be?”
“Beats me,” said Butler, rolling his eyes.
“But how did you set this up?” the French girl wondered aloud. “The meeting site was Kong’s idea. I heard him on the phone.”
Artemis smiled at his own cleverness. “While he was thinking about it, I said, ‘I’ll be wearing a burgundy tie. Pay attention to that. There are a hundred and one ways this could go wrong. If it does, the police could tie one of us up for a long time.’ Do you see?”
Minerva plucked at a curl thoughtfully. “Mon Dieu!You used the power of suggestion. Tie pay. A hundred and one. Tie one.”
“Or what Kong’s subconscious heard: Taipei 101, Taiwan.”
“Brilliant, Artemis. Extraordinary. And coming from me, that means something.”
“It was brilliant,” said Artemis, with his characteristic lack of modesty. “Allied to the fact that Kong’s second home is Taiwan, I was reasonably confident that it would work.”
There was a harried-looking man at the gallery’s reception desk. He was dressed in a neon-blue suit, and his head was completely shaven, except for a spiral of stubble in the shape of No1’s rune. He spoke in rapid Taiwanese into a Bluetooth headset clipped to his ear.