Artemis plodded across to her, legs aching from the climb and descent. He grabbed one horn and heaved. Holly took the other.
“Did you shoot him?” Artemis asked.
Holly shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. It got a bit hazy there for a minute. Must be the time spell.”
“Must be,” said Artemis, relieved that Holly didn’t remember what had happened. Nobody should have to remember dying, though he would be interested to find out what exactly came next.
Time was running every which way, including out. One way or another, the island of Hybras was not going to be here much longer. Either the time spell would take it in pieces, or Qwan would get a grip of the bomb’s energy and transport them back to Earth. Artemis and Holly dragged Abbot into the circle, dumping him at Qwan’s feet.
“Sorry he’s out,” said Holly. “It was that or dead.”
“Difficult choice with this one,” said Qwan, grabbing one of Abbot’s horns.
Artemis took the other, and between them they pulled Abbot into a kneeling position. There were now five in the circle.
“I had been hoping for five warlocks,” grumbled Qwan. “One warlock, one apprentice, an elf, a human, and a snoring egomaniac were not exactly what I had in mind. This makes things a little more complicated.”
“What can we do?” asked Artemis.
Qwan shuddered and a blue film passed across his eyes.
“D’Arvit!” he swore. “This young one is powerful. I can’t hold him in much longer. Two more minutes of this and he’s going to melt our brains inside our skulls. I saw that once. Fluid boiling right out of the ears. Horrible.”
“Qwan! What can we do?”
“Sorry. I’m a little stressed here. Okay. Here’s how it’s supposed to work. I’m going to lift us off, with junior’s help. When the device explodes, I’ll convert the energy to magic. Captain Short, you’re in charge of the where. Artemis, you’re in charge of the when.”
“Where?” said Holly.
“When?” said Artemis, simultaneously.
Qwan gripped Abbot’s horn so tightly it creaked. “You know where this island goes, Holly, picture the spot. Artemis, let your time call to you. Allow it to reel you in. We cannot go back to our time. That would cause so many quandaries that the planet would probably just drop into a lower orbit and fry everything on it.”
“I accept that,” said Artemis. “But allow it to reel me in? I prefer some facts and figures. How about trajectories? Spatial addresses?”
Qwan was on his way into a trance. “No science. Just magic. Feel your way home, Artemis Fowl.”
Artemis frowned, disgruntled. Feeling his way was not how he generally did things. People who felt their way without hard scientific facts generally wound up broke or dead. But what choice did he have?
It was easier for Holly. Magic had always been a part of her life. It had been her minor in college, and all LEP officers had to take regular in-service courses. In seconds her eyes were clouded with blue sparks and her inner magic had added a blue ring to the pulsing circles around them.
Visualize it, thought Artemis. See where you want to go, or rather, when you want to arrive.
He tried, but even though the magic was in him, it was not of him. The fairies were lost in the spell-casting, but Artemis Fowl could only gaze at the huge bomb at their feet and marvel that they were waiting for it to explode.
A bit late for doubts now, he told himself. After all, the whole “harness the bomb’s power” notion was your idea.
It was true, he had conjured a few sparks earlier. But that was different; he had done it without thinking. The sparks had been a flourish to make his point. Here, his magic could be what kept everyone on this island alive.
Artemis studied each member of the circle in turn. Qwan and No1 vibrated with unnatural speed. Their eyes were blue, and markings spun on their foreheads like mini-cyclones. Holly’s magic vented through her fingers, coating her hand in an almost liquid blue light. Abbot, of course, was unconscious, but his horns glowed blue, and continuous streams of sparks shot from them, cascading over the group like the special effects at a rock concert. In fact, this entire episode would not look out of place in a music video.
Around them, the island was suffering its own trauma. The time tunnel’s continued meltdown snatched up increasingly larger plots, whisking them off to other dimensions. The crackling hoops of power around them fused to form a magical hemisphere. It was not perfect, though; gaps flowed across its surface, threatening the integrity of the entire structure.
I’m the problem, thought Artemis. I am not contributing.
Artemis felt himself on the verge of panic. Whenever this feeling claimed him, he ordered his mind to shift gears and slip into a meditative mood. He did this now, feeling his heart slow and the impossible craziness around him slip away.
He concentrated on one thing: Holly’s hand in his, clutching his fingers with life and energy. Holly’s fingers twitched, sending magical tendrils along Artemis’s arm. In his relaxed state, he was receptive, and her magic sparked his own, drawing it from his brain. He felt the magic ignite in his nerve endings, filling him up, elevating his consciousness to another place. It was a euphoric experience. Artemis realized there were sections of his brain opening up that hadn’t been used by humans for millennia. He also realized that humans must have had their own magic once, but had forgotten how to use it.
Ready? asked Qwan, but not aloud. They were sharing consciousness now, as they had in the tunnel. But this was a clearer experience, like radio waves compared to digital.
Ready, replied the others, thought waves overlapping in a kind of mental harmony. But there was disharmony, too, and struggle.
It’s not enough, thought Qwan. I can’t seal the hemisphere. I need more from Abbot.
The others pushed as hard as they could, but none of them had any more magic to give. Abbot would kill them all in his sleep.
Hello? Who’s there? said a new voice, which was something you don’t expect in a closed magic circle, even if it is your first one.
Along with the voice came a series of memories. Great battles, betrayal, and a plunge into a fiery volcano.
Qweffor? said Qwan. Is that you, boy?
Qwan? Can it be you? Are you trapped here too?
Qweffor. The apprentice hauled into the volcano by Abbot back on Earth. Qwan instantly understood what must have happened.
No. We’re in the magic circle once more. I need your power. Now!
Oh, gods, Master Qwan. It’s been so long. You wouldn’t believe what this demon eats.
Power, Qweffor! Now! We can talk at the other end.
Oh, okay. Sorry. Nice to hear a warlock’s thoughts again. After so long, I thought—
Power!
Sorry. On the way.
Moments later, a strong pulse of power hummed through the circle. The magical hemisphere sealed, becoming a solid shield of light. Qwan redirected a small chunk of magic down to encircle the bomb itself. A high-pitched whistle emanated from the little golden sphere.
High C, thought Artemis absently.
Focus! admonished Qwan. Take us to your time.
Artemis focused on the important things he had left behind, and realized that they were all people. Mother, Father, Butler, Foaly, and Mulch. Possessions that he had believed important now meant nothing. Except maybe his collection of Impressionist art.
Leave out the art, Artemis, warned Holly, or we’ll end up in the twentieth century.
Nineteenth, replied Artemis. But I take your point.
It may seem that all this bickering was a waste of valuable time, but it took place instantaneously. A million multisensory messages were exchanged along magical pathways, which made fiber-optic cables look about as efficient as two cans and a piece of string. Memories, opinions, and secrets were laid bare for all to see.
Interesting, noted Artemis. If I could re-create this, I could revolutionize the communications business.
You were a statue? said Qweffor. Am I reading this right?
At the circle’s center, the bomb’s timer was clicking toward zero. In a single second, the timer swept through the final hour on the clock. When the timer hit zero, a charge was sent to various detonators, including three dummies, to a block of plastic explosive the size of a small television set.
Here it comes, sent Qwan.
The bomb exploded, transforming the casing from a metal box into a million supersonic darts. The inner shield stopped the darts dead, but absorbed their kinetic energy, adding it to the outer shield.
I saw that, thought Artemis, impressed. Very clever.
And he had seen it somehow. Some kind of lateral vision that allowed everyone to view events at their own pace, and from whatever point of view they preferred. It also allowed his mind to fully concentrate on his home time, while also appreciating the spectacle. Artemis decided to move his third eye outside the circle. Whatever happened to this island was certain to be pretty spectacular.
The explosion released the power of an electrical storm into a space the size of a four-man tent. Everything inside the space should have been vaporized, but the flame and shock waves were contained by the small golden sphere. They roiled about in there, punching through in several places. Wherever this happened, the errant force was attracted to the blue rings of power and stuck to them like flashes of cloud-to-ground lightning.