“Dr. Argon is a bit of a fame hound, but he’s good. The best. Also, I’m sure No1 can give you a magical detox, get the last of those sparks out of your system.”
“That sounds painful.”
“Maybe. But you’ll have friends around you. Good friends.”
Artemis sat up on the pillows. “I know. Where’s Mulch?”
“Where do you think?”
“I think he’s in the galley. Possibly inside one of the refrigerators.”
“I think you’re probably right.”
“How about Juliet?”
Holly’s sigh was both affectionate and frustrated. “She’s organized a wrestling match between herself and a jumbo pixie who passed a comment about her ponytail. I am currently pretending I don’t know anything about it. I should go and break it up soon.”
“I pity the pixie,” said Artemis. “And how about Butler? Do you think he can ever trust me again?”
“I think he already does.”
“I need to speak to him.”
Holly glanced toward the corridor. “You’d better give it a minute. He’s making a delicate phone call.”
Artemis could guess who he was calling. He would have to make a similar call himself soon.
“So,” he said, trying to sound more lighthearted than he actually felt, with the Atlantis Complex bubbling at the base of his temporal lobe.
Arrange this, it said.
Count that.
Beware four. Four is death.
“I hear that you were on a date with Trouble Kelp. Are you two planning on building a bivouac any time soon?”
Butler thought he might be developing claustrophobia. It definitely seemed as though the walls were closing in. It didn’t help that the corridor he was crouched in was built for people half his size. The only place he could stand up properly was the gymnasium, and that wasn’t really the place to make a private call, as his baby sister was probably beating the stuffing out of a jumbo pixie in there at the moment, playing it up for the assembled crowd of patients and medics, who would soon adore the Jade Princess.
Butler slid down the wall into a sitting position and held out Artemis’s phone.
Maybe there’s no network, he thought hopefully.
But there was. Four bars. Artemis had built his phone to access all available networks, including military and fairy. A person would have to be on the moon before Artemis’s phone would fail.
Okay. Stop putting it off. Make the call.
Butler scrolled through the contacts and selected Angeline Fowl’s mobile phone. It took a few seconds to connect, as the call had to go through Haven up to a satellite and back to Ireland, and when it did ring, the tone was the fairy triple beep.
Maybe she’s asleep.
But Angeline picked up on the second ring.
“Artemis? Where are you? Why haven’t you called?”
“No, Mrs. Fowl. It’s Butler.”
Angeline realized that Butler was calling her on Artemis’s phone and naturally jumped to the worst possible conclusion. “Oh my God! He’s dead, isn’t he? I should never have let him go.”
“No, no. Artemis is fine,” said Butler hurriedly. “Not a mark on him.”
Angeline was crying into the phone. “Thank goodness. I would blame myself. A fifteen-year-old, off to save the world, with fairies. What was I thinking? That’s it now. Finished. A normal life from now on.”
I can’t even remember normal, thought Butler.
“Can I speak to him?”
Here we go.
“Not at the moment. He’s . . . eh . . . sedated.”
“Sedated! You said he wasn’t hurt, Butler. You just said there wasn’t a mark on him.”
Butler winced. “There isn’t a mark on him. Not on the outside.”
Butler swore he could hear Angeline Fowl fuming. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you turning metaphorical in your dotage, man? Is Artemis hurt or not?”
Butler would have much preferred to be facing down a SWAT team than delivering this news, so he chose his words carefully. “Artemis has developed a condition, a mental condition. It’s a little like OCD.”
“Oh no,” said Angeline, and for a moment Butler thought she had dropped the phone, then he heard her breathing, fast and shallow.
“It can be controled,” he said. “We’re taking him to a clinic right now. The best clinic the fairies have. He is in absolutely no danger.”
“I want to see him.”
“You will. They’re sending someone for you.” This wasn’t actually the case, but Butler vowed that it would be, seconds after he hung up the phone. “What about the twins?”
“The nanny can sleep over. Artemis’s father is in São Paolo at a summit. I’ll have to tell him everything.”
“No,” said Butler quickly. “Don’t make that decision now. Talk to Artemis first.”
“W-will he know me?”
“Of course he will,” Butler replied.
“Very well, Butler. I’m going to pack a bag now. Tell the fairies to call when they’re ten minutes away.”
“I will do.”
“And, Butler?”
“Yes, Mrs. Fowl?”
?
?Look after my boy until I get there. Family is everything, you know that.”
“I do, Mrs. Fowl. I will.”
The connection was severed, and Angeline Fowl’s picture disappeared from the little screen.
Family is everything, thought Butler. If you’re lucky.
Mulch stuck his head around the door, beard dripping with some congealing liquid that seemed to have whole turnips trapped in it. His forehead was covered in bright blue burn gel.
“Hey, bodyguard. You better get down to the gymnasium. This jumbo pixie guy is killing your sister.”
“Really?” said Butler, unconvinced.
“Really. Juliet just does not seem to be herself. She can’t put two moves together. It’s pathetic, really. Everyone is betting against her.”
“I see,” said Butler, straightening as much as he could in the cramped surroundings.
Mulch held the door. “It’s going to make things really interesting when you show up to help.”
Butler grinned. “I’m not coming to help. I just want to be there when she stops faking.”
“Ah,” said Mulch, comprehension dawning on his face. “So I should switch my bet to Juliet?”
“You certainly should,” said Butler, and lumbered down the corridor, stepping around a pool of turnip soup.