The Time Paradox (Artemis Fowl 6)

“My first suit,” said Artemis fondly. “For the family Christmas postcard. I had no idea really how to wear it. I remember fidgeting throughout the fitting. It’s a Zegna, custom made.”

Holly tore off a protective polyethylene wrap. “So long as it fits.”

It was only then that Artemis’s emotions settled enough for him to register Holly’s comment.

“What do you mean, I have let myself go?”

Holly swung the wardrobe door so that its mirrored side faced Artemis.

“See for yourself,” she said.

Artemis looked. In the mirror he saw a tall, slender boy, his face all but invisible under a wild mop of shoulder-length hair and even some bristles on his chin.

“Ah. I see.”

“I’m surprised you do,” said Holly. “Through all that hair.”

“Accelerated aging. A side effect of the time stream,” Artemis hypothesized, unconcerned. “When we return, the effects should be reversed.” He paused, catching sight of Holly’s reflection. “Perhaps you should check yourself in the mirror. I am not the only one to have changed.”

Holly elbowed him aside, certain she was being kidded, but the half-smile died on her lips when she saw the fairy in the looking glass. It was her own face, but different, missing a few scars and a few decades’ wear and tear.

“I am young,” she gasped. “Younger.”

“Don’t be upset,” said Artemis briskly. “It is temporary. All this is nothing more than dress-up. My physical maturity, your youth. In a moment or two we will be back in the stream.”

But Holly was upset. She knew how this had happened.

I was thinking of Mother. Of our last hours together. Of how I was then.

And so that was how she had changed.

Look at me. Just out of the academy. In human terms, barely older than Artemis.

For some reason, this was a disturbing thought.

“Get some pants on,” she snapped, buttoning a crisp white shirt up to her neck. “Then we can discuss your theories.”

Artemis used his extra inches to reach up and tug a large box from the top of the wardrobe. In it were neatly folded layers of clothes, destined for one of Angeline Fowl’s charity shops.

He tossed a silver wig to Holly.

“Seventies fancy dress party,” he explained. “Mother went as a starship trooper, I seem to remember. Now cover those pointy ears.”

“A hat would be easier,” said Holly, pulling the wig over her auburn crew cut.

“No such luck, I’m afraid,” sighed Artemis, selecting an old tracksuit from the box. “This is not exactly Harrods; we will have to make do.”

Artemis’s old loafers fit Holly well enough, and there were a pair of his father’s sneakers in the box, which stayed on his feet when the toes were stuffed.

“Always good to be dressed when you’re stealing monkeys,” said Holly.

Artemis rolled up the tracksuit sleeves. “There’s no need to dress at all, really. We simply wait for a few minutes, until my mother almost catches Butler sneaking upstairs with the lemur. I remember him sliding the cage through the doorway, then I brought her back upstairs. The moment that cage comes in here, we grab it, take off these ridiculous clothes, and wish our way back to No1.”

Holly checked herself in the mirror. She looked like a presidential bodyguard—from another planet. “That sounds so simple.”

“It was simple. Will be. Butler never even entered the study. All we need to do is stand here and wait.”

“And how did you find this particular moment?”

Artemis swept a sheaf of black hair back from his brow, revealing mismatched sorrowful eyes.

“Listen,” he said, pointing toward the ceiling.

Holly tucked strands of silver hair behind one ear and cocked her head to one side to focus her considerable sense of hearing. She heard the grandfather clock, and the time travelers’ beating hearts, but above them there was a strident, hysterical voice.

“Mother,” said Artemis, eyes downcast. “It was the first time that she did not recognize me. She is at this moment threatening to call the police. In a moment she runs downstairs to the phone, and discovers Butler.”

Holly understood. How could any son forget a moment like that one? Finding it again must have been easy and painful.

“I remember it clearly. We had just returned from Rathdown Park, the private zoo, and I thought I should check how she was feeling before flying to Morocco. In a month from now, she won’t be able to look after herself anymore.”

Holly squeezed his forearm. “It’s fine, Artemis. This is all in the past. In a few minutes your mother will be back on her feet. She will love you as she always has.”

Artemis nodded glumly. He knew it was probably true, but he also knew that he would never fully escape the specter of this bad memory.

Upstairs, Angeline Fowl’s voice moved from her bedchamber to the upper landing, trailing shrill notes behind her.

Artemis pulled Holly back against the wall.

“Butler will be on the stairs now. We should keep to the shadows, just in case.”

Holly couldn’t help a flutter of nerves. “You’re sure he stays outside? The last time I faced Butler as an enemy, I had the entire LEP on my side. I don’t relish the thought of meeting him armed with nothing more than a silver wig.”

“Calm yourself, Captain,” said Artemis, unconsciously patronizing. “He stays outside. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Saw what with your own eyes?” asked Butler, who had appeared in the archway behind them, having let himself in through the adjoining bedroom door.

Artemis felt his pulse throb in his fingertips. How could this be? This was not the way it had happened. Artemis had never been on the receiving end of Butler’s glare before, and understood for the first time just how terrifying his bodyguard could be.

“You two kids have been helping yourselves to the Fowl wardrobe, I see,” continued Butler without waiting for an answer to his question. “Now, are you going to cause a fuss or are you going to come quietly? Let me give you a hint: the correct answer is come quietly.”

Magic is the only way out, Holly realized.

She twisted her chin sharply to call on her fairy power. If she couldn’t stun Butler, she would mesmerize him.

“Stand down, human,” she intoned, voice loaded with hypnotic magic. But the mesmer is a two-pronged attack, audio and visual. Butler could hear the magical words, but eye contact was not consistent in the shadows.

“What?” he said, surprised. “How did you . . .” The hulking bodyguard had been drugged enough times to realize that his will was being sapped. Somehow these kids were putting him under. He staggered backward, his shoulder bashing against the arch.

“Sleep, Butler,” said the little one in the starship trooper wig.

She knows me?

This was serious. These two had done some surveillance and decided to break in anyway.

I have to neutralize them before I pass out, thought Butler. If I go down, Master Artemis and Mrs. Fowl are defenseless.

He had two options: fall on the midget burglars or shoot them with the tranquilizer pistol he was carrying for the planned animal abduction at Rathdown Park.

He chose the second option. At least tranquilizer darts would not smother these two or crush their bones. Butler felt mildly guilty about his decision to “tranq” a couple of kids, but not overly so; after all, he worked for Artemis Fowl and knew exactly how dangerous children could be.

The starship trooper came out of the shadows, and Butler could see her eyes clearly. One blue, one tawny.

“Sleep, Butler,” she said again in that melodious layered voice. “Aren’t your eyelids heavy? Sleep.”

She’s hypnotizing me! Butler realized. He dragged out the pistol with fingers that felt as though they had been dipped in molten rubber then sprinkled with ball bearings.

“You sleep,” he mumbled, then shot the girl in the hip.

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Holly stared in disbelief at the hypodermic dart sticking out of her leg.

“Not again,” she moaned, then collapsed to the floor.

Butler’s head cleared immediately. The other intruder did not move an inch.

The little girl is the professional of the two, thought Butler, climbing to his feet. I wonder what this scruffy individual contributes to the partnership.

Artemis quickly saw that he had no choice but to reveal his identity and enlist Butler as an ally.

This will be difficult. I have nothing more than a passing resemblance to my younger self as proof.

Still, he had to try before his plan unraveled utterly.

“Listen, Butler,” he began. “I have something to tell you—”

Butler didn’t entertain another word. “No, no, no,” he said briskly, shooting Artemis in the shoulder. “No more talking from either of you.”

Artemis pulled out the dart, but it was too late. The tiny reservoir of sedative was empty.