The grenade exploded, blasting Holly into a sharp arc. The helmet absorbed most of the shock, and all of the shrapnel, but there was still enough force to shatter both of Holly’s shinbones and fracture one femur. She landed on Artemis’s back like a sack of rocks.
“Ow,” she said, and passed out.
Artemis and No1 were attempting to revive Qwan.
“He’s alive,” said Artemis, checking the warlock’s pulse. “Steady heartbeat. He should come out of it soon. You keep a strong contact with him or he could disappear.”
No1 cradled the old demon’s head. “He called me a warlock,” he said tearfully. “I am not alone.”
“Time enough for a talk-show moment later,” said Artemis brusquely. “We need to get you out of here.”
Kong’s men were in the gallery now, and shots were being fired. Artemis was confident that Butler and Holly could take care of a few thugs, but this confidence took a blow when there was a sudden explosion and a battered Holly landed on his back. Her body was instantly enveloped in a cocoon of blue light. Sparks dropped from the cocoon, like falling stars, pinpointing the most severe injuries.
Artemis crawled out from beneath her, laying his recuperating friend gently on the floor beside Qwan.
Kong’s men were now embroiled with Butler, and probably regretting choosing this line of work. He tore through them like a bowling ball into a pack of quivering pins, but with considerably more economy of movement.
One made it past Butler. A tall man with a tattooed neck and an aluminium case. Artemis guessed that this case probably did not contain a selection of Asian spices, and realized that he would have to take action himself. While he was wondering exactly what it was he could do, the man sent him sprawling. By the time he made it back to Holly’s side, his friend was sitting up groggily and there was a suitcase handcuffed to her wrist. The man who had delivered the case had returned to the fray, where he had lasted less than a second before Butler took him out of it again.
Artemis knelt by Holly’s side. “Are you all right?”
Holly smiled, but it was an effort. “Just about, thanks to the magic. I’m out, though, not a drop left. So I would advise everyone to stay healthy until I can complete my ritual.” She shook her wrist, jangling the chain. “What’s in the case?”
Artemis looked paler than usual. “I would guess nothing pleasant.” He flicked the clips and lifted the lid. “And I would be right. It’s a bomb. Big and complicated. They sneaked it past security somehow. Through an area still under construction, probably.”
Holly blinked herself alert, shaking her head until the pain woke her up.
“Okay. Bomb. Can you see a timer?”
“Eight minutes. And counting.”
“Can you disarm it?”
Artemis pursed his lips. “Perhaps. I need to open the casing and get into the works before I know for sure. It could be a straight detonator, or we could have all kinds of decoys.”
Qwan struggled to his elbows, coughing up large globs of dust and spit. “What? I’m flesh and bone after ten thousand years and now you’re telling me a bomb is going to blow me to a million pieces?”
“This is Qwan,” explained No1. “He’s the most powerful warlock in the magic circle.”
“I’m the only one now,” said Qwan. “I couldn’t save the rest. Just us two left, boy.”
“Can you petrify the bomb?” asked Holly.
“It will take several minutes before my magic is up and running. Anyway, the gargoyle’s touch only works on organic matter. Plants and animals. A bomb is full of man-made compounds.”
Artemis raised an eyebrow. “You know about bombs?”
“I was petrified. Not dead. I could see what was happening around me. The stories I could tell you. You wouldn’t believe where tourists stick gum.”
Butler was piling unconscious bodies against the security doors.
“We have to get out of here!” he called. “The police are in the hallway.”
Artemis stood and took a half dozen steps away from the group, closing his eyes.
“Artemis, this is no time to fall apart,” chided Minerva, crawling from behind a display case. “We need a plan.”
“Shh, young lady,” said Butler. “He’s thinking.”
Artemis gave himself twenty seconds to rack his brains. What he came up with was very far from perfect.
“Very well. Holly, you must fly us out of here.”
Holly did a few sums in her head. “It will take two trips, maybe three.”
“No time for that. The bomb must go first. There are a lot of people in this building. I must go with the bomb, as there is a chance I can defuse it. And the fairies must come, too; it is imperative that they are not taken into custody. Hybras would be lost.”
“I can’t allow this,” objected Butler. “I have a duty to your parents.”
Artemis was stern with his protector. “I am giving you a new duty,” he said. “Look after Minerva. Keep her safe until we can rendezvous.”
“Let Holly fly out over the sea and drop the bomb,” argued Butler. “We can mount a rescue mission later.”
“It will be too late. If we don’t get these fairies out of here, the eyes of the world will be on Taipei. And anyway, the local seas are thronged with fishing boats. This is the only way. I will not allow humans or fairies to die when I might have prevented it.”
Butler would not give up. “Listen to yourself. You sound like a ...like a good guy! There’s nothing in this for you.”
Artemis had no time for emotions. “In the words of HP Woodman, ‘Time is ticking on, and so we must be gone.’ Holly, tie us to your belt, all except Butler and Minerva.”
Holly nodded, still slightly shell-shocked. She reeled out a number of pitons from her belt, wishing she had been issued one of Foaly’s Moonbelts, which generated a lo-grav field around everything attached to it.
“Under the arms,” she instructed No1. “Then clip it back onto the loop.”
Butler helped Artemis with his strap. “This is it, Artemis. I’ve had it, I swear. When we get home I am retiring. I’m older than I look, and I feel older than I am. No more plotting. Promise me?”
Artemis forced a smile. “I am simply flying to the next building. If I cannot defuse the bomb, then Holly can fly it out to sea and endeavor to find a safe spot.”
They both knew that Artemis was lying. If he could not defuse the bomb, there would be no time to find a safe drop point.
“Here,” said Butler, handing him a flat leather wallet. “My picks. So you can at least get into the works.”
“Thank you.”
Holly was loaded to the chin. No1 and Qwan clung to her waist, while Artemis was cinched to the front.
“Okay. Everyone ready?”
“I wish my magic would return,” grumbled Qwan. “I’d turn myself back into a statue.”
“Terrified,” said No1. “Freaking. Planking. Up the creek.”
“Colloquialisms,” said Artemis. “Very good.”
Butler closed the case. “One building across. That’s as far as you need to go. Get that panel off and go straight for the explosive itself. Rip out the detonator if you have to.”
“Understood.”
“Okay. I won’t say good-bye, just good luck. I will see you as soon as I can talk us out of here.”
“Thirty minutes, if that.”
Up to that point Minerva had hung back, looking shamefaced. Now she came forward. “I’m sorry, Artemis. I shouldn’t have gone near Mr. Kong.”
Butler bodily lifted her aside. “No, you shouldn’t have, but there’s no time for apologies now. Just stand by the door and look innocent.”
“But I—”
“Innocent! Now!”
Minerva obliged, wisely realizing that this was not the time for arguing.
“Okay, Holly,” said Artemis. “Lift off.”
“Check,” said Holly, activating her backpack. The wings struggled with the extra weight for a m
oment, and there was something about the engine vibration that Holly didn’t like, but gradually her rig took the strain and lifted all four of them off the floor.
“Okay,” she said. “I think we’re good.”
Butler nudged the flying group toward a window. This was all so risky, he couldn’t believe that he was letting it happen. But there was no time to deliberate. It was do or die.
He reached up and yanked down on the window’s security catch. The entire six foot pane swung wide, allowing the high-altitude wind to scream into the building. Suddenly everyone was deafened and under attack from the elements. It was hard to see anyone, and even harder to hear them.
Holly floated the group outside. They would have been whipped away had Butler not held on for a second.
“Go with the wind,” he shouted to Holly, releasing his grip. “Make your descent gradual.”
Holly nodded. Her wing motor skipped a beat and they dropped six feet. Artemis’s stomach lurched.
“Butler,” he called, his voice thin and childlike in the wind.
“Yes, Artemis, what?”