فصل چهاردهم

CHAPTER 14: Leader of the Pack

The Island of H ybras

WHILE Artemis and company had been zooming around the time tunnel, Leon Abbot had been in Council with the pride elders. Council was where all the big decisions were made, or more accurately, where Abbot made all the big decisions. The others thought they were participating, but Leon Abbot had a way of bringing them round to his way of thinking.

If only they knew, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent a smug grin spreading across his face. They would eat me alive. But they can never know, because there is nobody left alive to tell them. That dolt Number One was the last, and he’s gone. What a pity.

Abbot had something big for planned for today. A big departure for the pride, the dawn of a new era. The Leon Abbot era.

He looked down the table at his fellow demons, sucking the bones from a bucket of recently live rabbits that he had laid on for the meeting. He despised the other Council members. Every one. They were weak stupid creatures, ruled by their baser appetites. What they needed was leadership. No arguments, no debates, just his word was law, and that was that.

Of course, under normal circumstances, the other demons might not share his vision of the future. In fact, if he suggested it, then they would most likely do to him what they were currently doing to the rabbits. But these were not normal circumstances. He had certain advantages when it came to negotiating with the Council.

At the far end of the table, Hadley Shrivelington Basset, a recent addition to the Council, stood and growled loudly. The signal that he wished to speak. In truth, Basset worried Abbot slightly. He was proving a little resistant to Abbot’s regular powers of persuasion, and some of the others were beginning to listen to him. Basset would have to be handled soon.

Basset growled again, cupping both hands round his mouth to ensure that the sound travelled to the head of the table.

‘I would speak, Leon Abbot. I would have you listen.’

Abbot sighed wearily, waving at the demon to go ahead.

The young ones certainly loved their formality.

‘Things are happening that worry me, Abbot. Things are not as they should be with the pride.’

There were murmurs of assent from round the table. Not to worry. The others would soon change their tune.

‘We are known by human names. We venerate a human book. I find this sickening. Are we to become human altogether?’

‘I have explained this, Basset. Perhaps a million times. Are you so dull-witted that my words do not penetrate your skull?’

Basset growled low in his throat. These were fighting words. And pride leader or not, Abbot would soon find those words rammed down his throat.

‘Let me try one more time,’ continued Abbot, plonking his boots on the table, a further insult to Basset. ‘We learn the human ways so we can better understand them, and so more easily defeat them. We read the book, we practise with the crossbow, we bear the names.’

Basset would not be cowed. ‘I have heard these words a million times, and each time they seem ridiculous to me. We do not give each other rabbit names when we hunt rabbit. We do not live in foxholes to hunt the fox. We can learn from the book and the bow, but we are demon, not human. My family name was Gristle. Now that’s a real demon name! Not this stupid Hadley Shrivelington Basset.’

It was a good argument, and well presented. Maybe in different circumstances Abbot would have applauded and recruited the young demon as a lieutenant, but lieutenants grew up to be challengers and that was one thing Abbot did not want.

Abbot stood, walking slowly down the length of the table, gazing into the eyes of each Council member in turn. At first their eyes blazed with defiance, but as Abbot began to speak, this fire faded to be replaced by a dull sheen of obedience.

‘You are right, of course,’ said Abbot, running a talon along one curved horn. An arc of sparks followed the path of his nail. ‘Everything you say is exactly right. The names, that ridiculous book, the crossbow. Learning the language of English. It’s all a joke.’

Basset’s lips curled back over pointed white teeth, and his tawny eyes narrowed. ‘You admit this, Abbot? You hear him admit it?’

Before, the others had grunted their approval of the young buck’s challenge, but now it was as if the fight had gone out of them. All they could do was stare at the table, as if the answers to life’s questions were etched into the wood grain.

‘The truth is, Basset,’ continued Abbot, drawing ever nearer. ‘That we’re never going back home. This is our home now.’

‘But you said . . .’

‘I know. I said that the spell would end, and we would be sucked back to where we came from. And who knows, it may even be true. But I have no idea what will actually happen. All I know is that for as long as we are here, I intend to be in charge.’

Basset was stunned. ‘There will be no great battle? But we’ve been training for so long.’

‘Distraction,’ said Abbot, waving his fingers like a magician. ‘Smoke and spells. It gave the troops something to concentrate on.’

‘To what on?’ asked Basset, puzzled.

‘Concentrate, you moron. Think about. As long as there’s a war to be planned, demons are happy. I provided the war, and I showed them how to win. So, naturally, I am a saviour.’

‘You gave us the crossbow.’

Abbot had to stop and laugh. This Basset really was a prize fool. He could almost pass for a gnome.

‘The crossbow,’ he panted at last, when his mirth had petered away. ‘The crossbow! The Mud Men have weapons that shoot death. They have iron birds that fly, dropping exploding eggs. And there are millions of them. Millions! All they would have to do is drop one egg on our little island and we would disappear. And this time, there would be no coming back.’

Basset did not know whether to attack or flee. All these revelations were hurting his brain, and all the other Council members could do was sit there drooling. It was almost as if they were under a spell . . .

‘Come on,’ said Abbot mockingly. ‘You’re getting there. Wring out that sponge of a brain.’

‘You have bewitched the Council.’

‘Full marks!’ crowed Abbot. ‘Give that demon a raw rabbit!’

‘B-but that can’t be,’ stammered Basset. ‘Demons are not magical creatures, except the warlocks. And warlocks do not warp.’

Abbot spread his arms wide. ‘And I am so obviously a magnificently warped creature. Does your brain hurt? Is this all too much for you, Basset?’

Basset pulled a long sword from its scabbard.

‘My name is Gristle!’ he roared, lunging at the pride leader.

Abbot batted the blade aside with his forearm, then pounced on his opponent. Abbot may have been a liar and a manipulator, but he was also a fearsome warrior. Basset may as well have been a dove attacking an eagle.

Abbot drove the smaller demon to the stone floor, then squatted on his chest, ignoring the blows Basset drove into his armoured plates.

‘Is that the best you can do, little one? I have had better tumbles with my dog.’

He grabbed Basset’s head between his hands and squeezed until the younger demon’s eyes bulged.

‘Now I could kill you,’ said Abbot, and the thought gave him obvious pleasure. ‘But you are a popular buck among the imps, and they would pester me with questions. So I will let you live. After a fashion. Your free will shall belong to me.’

Basset shouldn’t have been able to speak, but he managed to moan one word.

‘Never.’

Abbot squeezed harder.

‘Never? Never, you say? But don’t you know that never comes quickly here in Hybras?’

Then Abbot did what no warped demon should be able to do: he summoned magic from inside himself and let it shine through his eyes.

‘You are mine,’ he said to Basset, and his voice was layered with magic, and irresistible.

The others were so conditioned that they succumbed to just a tinge of the mesmer in his voice, but for Basset’s fresh young mind, Abbot was calling forth every spark of magic in his system. Magic that he had stolen. Magic that, by fairy law, was never to be used to mesmerize another fairy.

Basset’s face was turned red, and his forehead plate cracked.

‘You are mine!’ repeated Abbot, staring straight into Basset’s captive eyes. ‘You will never question me again.’

To Basset’s credit, he fought the enchantment for several seconds, until the magic’s power actually burst a blood vessel in his eye. Then, as the blood spread across the orange sclera of his eye, Basset’s resolve faded, to be replaced by docile dullness.

‘I am yours,’ he intoned. ‘I will never question you again.’

Abbot closed his eyes for a moment, drawing the magic back into himself. When he opened them again, he was all smiles.

‘That’s good. I am so glad to hear that, Basset. I mean, your option was quick and painful death, so you’re better off as a mindless lapdog anyway.’

He climbed to his feet and graciously helped Basset to his.

‘You’ve had a fall,’ he explained, in a doctor—patient voice. ‘And I’m helping you to your feet.’

Basset blinked dreamily. ‘I will never question you again.’

‘Oh, never mind all that now. Just sit down and do whatever I say.’

‘I am yours,’ said Basset.

Abbot slapped his cheek gently. ‘And the others said we wouldn’t get along.’

Abbot returned to his own chair at the head of the lodge. The chair was high-backed and made from various animal parts. He settled into it, paddling the armrests with his palms.

T love this chair,’ he said. ‘Actually it’s more of a throne than a chair, which brings me to our main business here today.’ Abbot reached under a leather flap in the chair and pulled out a roughly fashioned bronze crown.

‘I think it’s about time the Council declared me king for life,’ he said, fixing the crown on his head.

This new king-for-life idea would be a tough sell. A demon pride was always ruled over by the fittest, and it was a very temporary position. Abbot had only survived as long as he had by mesmerizing anyone who dared challenge him.

Most of the Cquncil had been under Abbot’s spell for so long that they accepted the suggestion as if it were a royal decree, but some of the younger ones shuddered with violent spasms as their true beliefs wrestled with this new repugnant idea.

Their struggles didn’t last long. Abbot’s suggestion spread like a virus through their conscious and subconscious, subduing revolution wherever it was found.

Abbot adjusted his crown slightly. ‘Enough debate. All in favour, say graaarghl’

‘GRAAARGH!’ howled the demons, battering the table with gauntlets and swords.

‘All hail King Leon,’ prompted Abbot.

‘ALL HAIL KING LEON!’ mimicked the Council, like trained parrots.

The adulation was interrupted by a soldier demon, who burst through the lodge’s flap.

‘There’s a … there was a big . . .’

Abbot whipped off the crown. The general population wasn’t ready for that yet. 310 ‘There’s a what?’ he demanded. ‘A big what?’

The soldier paused, catching his breath. He realized suddenly that he’d better communicate the bigness of what had happened on the mountain, or else Abbot was liable to behead him for interrupting the meeting.

‘There was a big flash.’ A big flash? That didn’t sound big enough.

‘Let me start again. A huge flash of light came from the volcano. Two of the hunting party were nearby. They say someone came through. A group. Four beings.’

Abbot frowned. ‘Beings?’

‘Two demons, maybe. But the other two. The hunter doesn’t know what they are.’

This was serious. Abbot knew it. These beings could be humans, or worse still, surviving warlocks. If it was a warlock, he would surely guess Abbot’s secret. All it would take was one demon with some real power, and his hold on the pride would be gone. This situation had to be contained.

‘Very well. The Council will investigate. Nobody else goes up there.’

The soldier’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously, as if he was about to bear bad news. ‘It’s too late, Master Abbot. The entire pride is climbing the volcano.’

Abbot was halfway to the door before the soldier finished his sentence.

‘Follow me!’ he shouted to the other demons. ‘And bring your weapons.’

‘GRAAARGH!’ roared the spellbound Council members.

Artemis was surprised at how calm he felt. You would think that a teenage human would be terrified at the sight of a pride of demons climbing towards him, but Artemis was more nervous than terrified, and more curious than nervous.

He glanced backwards over his shoulder, into the crater they had just climbed out of.

‘The pride comes before a fall,’ he said softly, then smiled at his own joke.

Holly overheard. ‘You certainly pick your moment to develop a sense of humour.’

‘Usually I would be planning, but this is out of my hands. Qwan is in charge now.’

No.l led them along the rim of the crater towards a low rocky ledge. There was a wooden rod jammed into the ground beside the ledge, and hooked over the rod were dozens of silver bangles. Most tarnished and soot-caked. No.l wiggled a bunch over the top of the rod. ‘Dimension jumpers leave these here,’ he explained, passing them out. ‘Just in case they make it back. No one ever did, until now. Except Leon Abbot of course.’

Qwan slipped a bangle on to his wrist. ‘Dimension jumping is suicide. Without silver, a demon will never be able to stay in one place for more than a few seconds. They will drift between times and dimensions until they are killed by exposure or starvation. Magic is the only reason we’re here. I am amazed this Abbot person made it back. What is his demon name?’

No.l squinted down the mountain pathway.

‘You can ask him your self. That’s him, the big one elbowing his way to the head of the group.’

Holly squinted down at the pride leader.

‘The one with the curved horns and big sword?’ she asked.

‘Is he smiling?’

‘No.’

‘That’s Abbot.’

It was a strange reunion. There was no hugging, no champagne and no teary-eyed reminiscing. Instead there were bared teeth, drawn swords and threatening behaviour. The latest batch of imps were especially eager to skewer the newcomers and prove their valour. Artemis was the number one target in the group. Imagine, an actual live human here on Hybras. He didn’t look so tough.

Artemis and company had stayed put on the ledge, waiting for the demons to come to them. They didn’t have to wait long. The imps arrived first, breathless from the climb and just dying to kill something. If it hadn’t been for Qwan, Artemis would have been ripped to shreds on the spot. In fairness, Holly had something to do with keeping Artemis alive too. She tagged the first half-dozen imps with a charge from her Neutrino strong enough to send them scurrying back to what they thought was a safe distance. After that, Qwan managed to hold their attention by conjuring a multicoloured dancing monkey in the air.

Soon every demon who was able to climb the mountain had done so, and they were all staring at the magical monkey.

Even No.l was entranced. ‘What is that?’ Qwan fluttered his fingers, causing the monkey to somersault.

‘It’s a simple magical construct. Instead of allowing the sparks to roam on instinct, I marshal them into a recognizable form. It takes time and effort, but in time you will have this micro-control too.’

‘No,’ said No.l. I mean what is that?’ Qwan sighed. ‘It’s a monkey.’

As their numbers grew, the demons became more and more agitated. The warriors crashed horns in a show of strength. They bashed each other’s chest plates with their forearms and made a big show of sharpening their swords on stones.

‘I miss Butler,’ said Artemis.

‘Me too,’ said Holly, scanning the crowd for the greatest threat. It wasn’t easy to decide. Every demon in the crowd seemed as though he was on the verge of hurling himself at the new arrivals. Holly had seen three-dimensional models of demons, of course, but she had never seen the real thing. The models were accurate enough, but they couldn’t capture the bloodlust in the creatures’ eyes, or the eerie whines that curled out of their noses as battle fever possessed them.

Abbot barged through to the front of the group and Holly instantly trained her weapon on his chest.

‘Qwan!’ said Abbot, obviously amazed. ‘You’re alive? I thought the warlocks were all dead.’

‘Except the one that helped you,’ said No.l before he could stop himself.

Abbot took a step back. ‘Well, yes. Except that one.’

Qwan closed his fist and the monkey disappeared. ‘I know you,’ he said slowly, searching for the memories. ‘You were at Taillte. You were a dissenter.’

Abbot drew himself up. ‘That’s right. I am Abbot the dissenter. We never should have come here. We should have met the humans head-on. The warlocks betrayed us!’ He levelled his sword at Qwan. ‘You betrayed us!’

The other demons growled and rattled their weapons.

Abbot took a moment to study the other members of the group.

‘A human! That’s a human. You have brought the enemy to our door. How long before the rest of them follow in their metal birds?’

‘Metal birds?’ said Artemis in Gnommish. ‘What metal birds? All we have are crossbows, remember?’

There followed a collective ooh, as the demons realized that this human spoke their language, albeit with an accent. Abbot decided to change the subject. This boy was picking holes in his story. ‘And you brought an elf too, warlock. Armed with a magical weapon. The elves betrayed us at Taillte!’

Qwan was getting bored with all this posturing. ‘I know, everybody betrayed you at Taillte. Why don’t you give the order you’re working up to? You want us dead. Give the order, and see if our brother demons will attack the only being who can save them.’

Abbot realized that he was on very dangerous ground. This poisonous little bunch had to be dealt with. Quickly and permanently.

‘You want to die so much? So be it, you can die.’ He pointed his sword at the small group and was on the verge of roaring ‘Kill them!’ or perhaps ‘Death to the traitors!’ when Qwan snapped his fingers. He did this in a very showy way, setting off a magical mini-explosion.

‘I remember you now. Your name isn’t Abbot. You’re N’zall, the idiot who ruined the time spell. But you seem different. Those red markings.’

Abbot flinched as if struck. A few of the older demons sniggered. Abbot’s demon name wasn’t brought up very much. Abbot was a little embarrassed by it, not surprisingly since N’zall meant ‘little horn’ in the old demon cant.

‘It is you, N’zall. It’s all coming back to me now. You and that other moron, Bludwin — you were against the time spell. You wanted to fight it out with the humans.’

‘I still do,’ roared Abbot, overcompensating after the mention of his true name. ‘There’s one right here. We can start with him.’

Qwan was angry now, for the first time since he came back to life. ‘We had it all worked out. We had a circle of seven in the volcano, the lava was rising, and everything was under control, then you and Bludwin hopped out from behind a rock and broke the circle.’

Abbot’s laugh was hollow. ‘This never happened. You have been away too long, warlock. You have gone mad.’

Qwan’s eyes burned with blue sparks, and magic rippled along the length of his arms. ‘I have been a statue for ten thousand years because of you.’

‘Nobody believes a word of this, warlock.’

‘I believe it,’ said No.l. And there were some in the demon camp who believed it too. It was in their eyes.

‘You tried to murder the warlocks!’ continued Qwan accusingly. ‘There was some commotion and Bludwin went into the volcano. His energy tainted the spell. Then you dragged my apprentice, Qweffor, into the lava too. Both of you went in. I saw it.’ Qwan frowned, trying to piece it all together. ‘But you didn’t die. You didn’t die because the spell had already started. The magic transported you away before the lava could melt your bones. But where did Qweffor go? Where did you go?’

No.l knew the answer to that question. ‘He went into the future. He told our secrets to the humans in exchange for one of their storybooks and an ancient weapon from a museum.’

Abbot pointed the sword at him. ‘I was going to let you live, impling.’

No.l felt a knot of rage in his stomach. ‘Like you let me live the last time? You told me to jump into the crater. You mesmerized me!’

Abbot was in a tough spot. He could order the Council to attack, but that would leave many questions unanswered, and he couldn’t mesmerize everybody. But if he let Qwan keep talking, every one of his secrets could be exposed. What he needed was some time to think. Unfortunately time was something he did not have. He would have to use his wits and weapons to get out of this situation.

‘I mesmerized you! Don’t be ridiculous. Demons don’t have magic. We abhor magic.’ Abbot shook his head in disbelief. ‘What am I even doing explaining myself to a runt like you? Shut your mouth, Number One, or I’ll stitch it shut and throw you into the volcano.’

Qwan did not appreciate his new apprentice being threatened.

‘I have had enough of you, N’zall. You would threaten warlocks? Number One, as you call him, has more power inside him than you will ever have.’

Abbot laughed. ‘For once you are right, old warlock. I have no power inside me. Not a single spark of magic. What I do have is the power of my fist, and the strength of the pride behind me.’

Artemis was growing tired of this bickering.

‘We don’t have time for this,’ he said, stepping out from behind Qwan. ‘The time spell is unravelling and we need to make preparations for the journey home. For that journey, we need all the magic we can get. Including yours, N’zall or Abbot or whatever your name is.’

‘I don’t argue with humans,’ growled Abbot. ‘But if I did, I might repeat that I don’t have any magic.’

‘Oh, come on,’ scoffed Artemis. ‘I know the side effects of the mesmer. Including ragged pupils and bloodshot eyes. Some of your friends here have been mesmerized so much they barely have pupils any more.’

‘And where did I get this magic?’

‘You stole it in the time tunnel. I imagine you and Qweffor were literally melted together by the combination of lava and magic. When you emerged in Earth’s recent past, you managed to hold on to some warlock magic.’

This was a bit of a stretch for everyone present. Abbot realized that he wouldn’t need the mesmer to convince anybody that the human’s theory was ridiculous. He could destroy this human’s argument before destroying the human.

Abbot made a great show of scoffing at Artemis. He did the whole big tribe leader bit, running his nails along the curves of his horns, and barking out short bursts of laughter. Pretty soon, almost everyone else was laughing along.

‘So, human,’ said Abbot, when the furore had died down. ‘I stole magic in the time tunnel. You must be losing your mind, Mud Boy. Maybe that’s because I’m about to order my imps to skin your bones and suck the marrow from them. Even if what you say were possible, how would you know? How would a human know?’ And Abbot grinned smugly, certain that no satisfactory answer could possibly be forthcoming.

Artemis Fowl grinned right back at him and pointed his index finger at the sky. Actually it was his middle finger, due to the time-tunnel switch. From the tip of this finger sprang a small blue spark which exploded like a tiny firework.

‘I know magic can be stolen,’ said Artemis. ‘Because I stole some myself.’

This piece of melodrama was greeted by a moment of stunned silence; then Qwan cackled loudly.

‘I said you were smart, Mud Boy. I was wrong, you are exceptional. Even in the time tunnel you were plotting. Stole a little magic, did you?’

Artemis shrugged, closing his fingers on the sparks. ‘It was floating around. I wondered what would happen if I embraced it.’

Qwan squinted at him. ‘Now you know. You are changed.

A magical creature like us. I hope you will use your gift wisely.’

‘Just what we need,’ moaned Holly. ‘Artemis Fowl with magical powers.’

‘I believe that if we count Mister N’zall here that makes five magical beings. Enough to reverse the time spell.’

Abbot was sunk and he knew it. The other demons were looking at him curiously. Wondering if he had been manipulating them magically. Even a few of the mesmerized Council were struggling to shake off their mental chains. It was only a matter of minutes before his dreams of kingship floated forever out of his reach.

There was only one option left to him.

‘Kill them all!’ he roared, not quite as fiercely as he would have liked. ‘Imps, you have free rein.’

The mesmerized Council members lurched into action, not quite as graceful in battle as they would normally be. The imps were so delighted to be given a chance to kill something with only two legs that they barged forward with unconfined glee.

‘Blood and guts!’ howled one, and they all took up the cry. It was not particularly eloquent, but it got the message across.

Holly was not particularly worried. Her Neutrino could fire as fast as she could aim, and with a wide beam setting she could stun the entire line of demons and imps before they could do any damage. In theory.

She elbowed Artemis aside, took a stand and began firing. The beams erupted from the pistol in a spreading cone pattern. Blasting the demons off their feet and keeping them down for at least ten minutes. Except for the ones that were getting back up immediately. Which seemed to be most of them. Even the imps were shaking off the blasts as if they were mere gusts of wind.

Holly frowned. This should not be happening. And she didn’t dare raise the setting for fear of doing permanent damage. Something she would not risk under any circumstances.

‘Qwan?’ she said. ‘My beam’s not having much effect. Any ideas?’

Holly knew that warlocks weren’t much use in combat situations. It was against their credo to harm, and they would only do so in the most dire situations. By the time Qwan overcame his pacifist nature, it would be too late.

While Qwan scratched his chin, Holly kept firing. Each pulse brought down a bunch of demons, but they were back on their feet in seconds.

‘If the Council has been mesmerized, I can heal them,’ concluded Qwan. ‘But the brain is delicate; I need direct contact.’

‘No time for that,’ said Holly, loosing another burst. ‘Artemis, have you got anything?’

Artemis had his hand on his stomach. T really need to use a bathroom. A second ago I was fine. But now . . .’

Holly really wished her wings were operational. If she could just get a bird’s eye view on the targets, it would be much easier.

‘Bathroom, Artemis? Is this really the time?’

One demon made it past the laser bursts. Close enough to smell. Holly ducked under his swinging mace, kicking him in the chest. The air left his lungs in a whoof, and the demon went down gasping for breath.

‘I need the bathroom, and your Neutrino is having barely any effect. Time is speeding up. We’re in a surge.’ Artemis grabbed Holly’s shoulder, causing a burst to sail off high and wide.

‘I need to get to the bomb. It could explode at any moment.’

Holly shrugged him off. ‘Safety tip, Artemis. Don’t jiggle me when I’m firing. Qwan, can you buy us some time?’

‘Time,’ said Qwan, smiling. ‘You know, it’s ironic that we need time because . . .’

Holly ground her teeth. Why did she always have to end up with the intellectuals?

No.1 had been equal parts terrified and thoughtful during the attack. Terrified for the obvious reasons: dismemberment, painful death, etc. But also thoughtful. He was a warlock. There must be something he could do. Before he left the island, he would have been stunned into inactivity by the suddenness and ferocity of this attack. Now, it wasn’t even the worst thing he’d faced. Those security Mud Men in the chateau. The big ones with the suits and fire sticks. No.l could see them in his head, as clearly as though they were here.

Instead of allowing the sparks to roam on instinct, I marshal them into a recognizable form.

No.l concentrated on the human figures in his memory, wrapping them with magic, bringing them forth. He felt them solidifying as though the blood in his forehead were freezing. When the pressure became too much for his forehead, he expelled it into reality, conjuring up ghostly images of a dozen human mercenaries, blasting away with automatic weapons. It was a spectacular sight. Even Abbot reared back. The rest more than reared back — they turned and ran.

‘Nice, Qwan. Good thinking,’ said Artemis.

Qwan was puzzled. ‘You can read my thoughts? Oh, you mean the soldiers. That was not me. Number One is a very powerful little warlock. In ten years he could move this island on his own.’

Abbot was left standing ten paces from the group with his sword in his hand and a hailstorm of blue bullets cascading around him. In fairness to the pride leader, he stood his ground, facing certain death the demon way — with a sword in his hand and a snarl on his face.

Qwan shook his head. ‘Just look at that. It’s that kind of idiocy that got us into trouble in the first place.’

Abbot had some experience with magic, and he soon realized that these new humans and their missiles were mere illusions.

‘Come back, you fools,’ he shouted after his soldiers. ‘They can’t hurt you.’

Artemis tapped Holly’s shoulder. ‘Sorry to jiggle you again. But we need to get back to the bomb. All of us. And if possible, lure Abbot down there too.’

Holly put several bursts into Abbot’s chest to buy them a couple of minutes. The pride leader flew backwards as though a giant had pounded his chest with a mallet.

‘OK. Let’s go. Artemis, you go ahead, I’ll hold them off from the rear.’

They scrambled back into the crater, skidding on their heels through the ash crust. They made faster progress on the way down, but it was just as treacherous. It was hardest for Holly because she was moving backwards, ready to take a potshot at anyone who poked so much as a hair over the crater rim.

It was a scene from a five-year-old’s nightmare. Acrid smells that burned the eyes and throat, a surface that sucked at the feet, a red sky and the sound of breath and heartbeats. Not to mention the constant fear that the demons were coming.

Things were about to get worse. The release of Qwan’s displaced magical energy had accelerated the deterioration of the time spell and it was on the point of collapsing entirely. Unfortunately this would happen in reverse order, starting on Hybras. Artemis knew this, but he hadn’t had a spare second to run any calculations. Soon, he guessed — it would happen soon. And who could tell when soon was during a time surge?

Artemis realized that it was more than a guess. He knew the collapse of the tunnel was imminent. He could feel it. He was in touch with magic now. He was part of it and it was part of him.

Artemis pulled Qwan’s arm round his shoulder, urging him forward.

‘Quickly. We need to hurry.’

The old warlock nodded. ‘You feel it? Chaos in the air. Look at Number One.’

Artemis glanced behind. No.l was on their heels, but his brow was furrowed with pain and he knuckled his forehead.

‘He’s sensitive,’ gasped Qwan. ‘Puberty.’

Suddenly human puberty didn’t seem so bad.

Holly was in trouble. Her years of training and experience hadn’t prepared her for the moment when she would be retreating into a volcano, guarding a human and two members of a supposedly extinct species during a time surge.

The surge was playing havoc with her bodily functions, but it was also having an effect on her gunfire. She was laying down a covering fire on the ridge but a cluster of blasts disappeared in mid-air. Where do those shots go? Holly wondered briefly. Into the past?

Groups of ghost images fizzled into existence for a brief moment, giving the illusion that there were twice as many demons as there had been. Added to this she was suddenly struck with hunger cramps and she could swear her fingernails were growing.

Abbot’s demons came fast, and not in a tight group as Holly had hoped. They had ranged themselves along the rim, and came over the top in a co-ordinated wave. It was a fearsome sight — dozens of warriors bounding over the lip, their markings glowing in the red light, teeth bared, horns quivering and bloodcurdling battle cries echoing around the crater walls. This was not like fighting trolls. Trolls had some basic smarts, but these demons were organized and battle ready. Already they knew to spread out and avoid the laser bursts.

Holly picked out the pride leader.

Hello there, Abbot, she thought. Whatever happens here, you’re going home with a headache.

She loosed three bolts at him. Two disappeared, but one connected, sending Abbot tumbling into the dirt.

Holly did her best, widening the spread as much as possible, setting the trigger on automatic. If she’d had her full combat pack, then there wouldn’t have been a problem. A few flash grenades at the right moment would have stunned the entire wave of demons, and a pulse assault rifle could have held them back for a few hundred years if necessary. As it was, she had one handgun, no back-up and a time surge gobbling half her rays. It seemed an impossible task to slow down Abbot and his goons long enough for Artemis to reach the bomb. And even if she did manage it, what then?

The demons kept coming, bent low and bobbing. They loosed bolts from their crossbows on the run, none of which were affected by the surge. Of course they wouldn’t be. The rays from her Neutrino were calibrated to have a short life: once they made contact with air, they would dissipate after five seconds unless specifically reset to hold together for longer.

Thankfully the bolts were falling short, but not as short as they had been a few moments earlier. Time was running out in more ways than one.

A group of especially daredevil imps made it past Holly’s arc of fire. Their method of travel was foolhardy and suicidal. Only idiot luck saved them from crushed skulls. Using a hide shield as a sled, three of them skidded down the crater’s inner slope, being tossed hither and thither by rocks and changes in gradient.

One second they were fifty metres away, and the next Holly could smell the sweat glistening on their brow plates. Holly swung her gun barrel towards them, but it was too late, she could never make it. And even if she did, the others would use the distraction to make ground.

The imps were leering at her. Lips pulled back over sharp pointed teeth. One was especially agitated and had some kind of slime flowing from his pores.

The imps seemed to hang suspended in the air for the longest time, and then something happened. The air pulsed, and reality momentarily split into coloured pixels like a faulty computer screen. Holly felt sick to her stomach and the imps winked out of existence, taking a two-metre diameter tube of the crater with them.

Holly fell back from the hole, which collapsed in on itself.

No.l fell to his knees and threw up.

‘Magic,’ he gasped. ‘Breaking down. The lure of Earth is stronger than silver now. No one is safe.’

Artemis and Qwan were in slightly better shape, but only slightly.

‘I am older and have more control over my empathy,’ said Qwan. ‘That’s why I didn’t throw up.’ And having said that, he threw up.

Artemis didn’t even give the old warlock time to recover himself. There was no time. Time was surging and unravelling at the same time.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Forward.’

Holly back-pedalled to her feet, pulling No.l to his. Behind them on the slopes, the demons froze at the sight of the disappearing imps, but now were advancing again with renewed determination. No doubt they believed that Holly was responsible for the disappearance of their little brothers.

Temporal booms echoed around the island, as chunks of Hybras spun into the time tunnel. Some would materialize on Earth and some in space. It was doubtful that any demons unlucky enough to be transported would survive. Not without concentrated magic to forge a compass for them.

Artemis dragged himself the last few steps to the bomb, dropping to his knees beside it. He wiped ash from the read-out with his sleeve, then spent a while studying it, nodding along with the flickering of its digital timer.

The numbers of the timer were behaving seemingly erratically: jumping forward, slowing down and even backing up slightly. But Artemis knew that there would be a pattern in here somewhere. Magic was simply another form of energy, and energy conformed to certain rules. It was simply a matter of watching the timer and counting. It took a while longer than they could afford, but eventually Artemis spotted the repeat. He ran the numbers quickly in his head.

‘I see it,’ he shouted to Qwan, who was on his knees beside him. ‘It’s mainly forward. An hour per second for a count of forty, followed by a deceleration to thirty minutes per second for a count of eighteen, then a slight jump backwards in time, one minute per second back for a count of two. Then it repeats.’

Qwan smiled weakly. ‘What was the first one again?’

Artemis stood heaving the bomb from its cradle of ash and fungus.

‘Never mind. You need to prepare to transport this place. I’ll move this bomb to wherever you need it.’

‘Very well, smart Mud Boy. But we still only have four magical beings. We need N’zall.’

Holly backed into the group, still firing. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Qwan nodded. ‘I have faith in you, Captain. Then again I am a trusting person, and look where that got me.’

‘Where do you want this?’

Qwan considered. ‘We need to form a circle round it, so somewhere flat. Look, that level spot. There.’

Artemis began dragging the bomb towards the indicated spot. It wasn’t so far. And then they could all stand round in a ring and watch it explode.

Everyone had their jobs to do now. And the chances of their tasks coming to fruition were slightly less than the chances of a dwarf-goblin marriage ever taking place. And a goblin would rather eat his own feet than marry a dwarf.

Artemis had to position the bomb. N° 1 and Qwan were in charge of spell-casting, and Holly had the unenviable tasks of keeping them all alive, and persuading Abbot to join their group. And all this while the island was disintegrating around them.

The volcano was literally being torn apart. Huge

segments vanished into space like parts of a giant three-dimensional jigsaw. In minutes, there would be nothing left to transport.

Qwan took No.l’s hand in his own, leading him to the small level spot.

‘OK, young fellow. That thing you did up there, with the soldiers — that was good. I was impressed. But this is the big time. I know you’re in pain. That’s just because you are sensitive to the spell’s breakdown. But you have to ignore that. We have an island to move.’

No.l felt his tail vibrate nervously. ‘An island? An entire island?’

Qwan winked. ‘And everyone on it. No pressure.’

‘What do we do?’

‘I only need one thing from you. Call up your magic, every drop. Let it pass through me and I’ll do the rest.’

That sounded easy enough. But calling up magic when there were arrows flying and chunks of the countryside disappearing was about as easy as going to the toilet on command, with a dozen people watching. Who all hated you.

No.l closed his eyes and thought magical thoughts.

Magic. Come on, magic.

He tried to open the same doors in his mind as he had when he had conjured up the human soldiers. To his surprise, he found the magic came easier now, as if it was ready to come out. The cage had been opened and the beast was free. No.l felt the power surge through his arms, animating him like a puppet.

‘Whoa there, big fellow,’ said Qwan. ‘No need to blow my head off. Put a leash on it until it’s time to go.’ The old warlock shouted to Artemis, his thin voice almost whipped away by sonic booms. ‘How long?’

Artemis was dragging the bomb with some difficulty, digging his heels into the crust and heaving. He couldn’t help thinking that Butler would have simply slung the bomb and its casing over one shoulder and hefted it on to the plateau.

‘Count to three hundred. Maybe two ninety-nine. Providing the deterioration remains constant, which it should.’

Qwan had stopped listening after the words three hundred. He gripped No.l’s hands tightly.

‘Five minutes and we’re going home. Time to start the mantra.’ Qwan closed his eyes and bobbled his head from side to side, muttering in the ancient demon tongue.

No.l could feel the power of the words, shaping the magic into rising circles of blue fire around them. He held on to his new mentor and joined in, repeating the mantra as if his life depended on it. Which, of course, it did.

Holly had a new mission now. Somehow she had to draw Abbot into their little group, and persuade him to join the magic circle. It seemed, judging by the way he was waving his fancy sword, highly unlikely that he would do this voluntarily.

The demon attack was mostly in disarray now, what with large tracts of the surroundings flashing off into another dimension, but Abbot and his Council members were as dogged as ever, forging ahead with barely a pause when some of their number disappeared.

Holly held her fire, wondering what was the best way to communicate with the pride leader. She was a trained negotiator, and suspected from her own observations and what No.l had told her, that Abbot had Acquired Situational Narcissism. He was completely in love with himself and his own importance in the community. Narcissists would often chose to die rather than accept what they saw as demotion. To Abbot, Holly would represent someone who was trying to remove him as pride leader, and therefore someone to be dealt with immediately.

Great, thought Holly. No matter what dimension you’re in, there’s a big-headed male trying to take over the world.

The demons were advancing in a ragged line. Abbot was at the head, waving his fancy sword, urging his mesmerized troops forward. The red sky was splitting into interwoven tendrils behind his head. The world as Abbot knew it was ending, but still he would not give up his position. Death for all before disgrace for him.

‘Call off your warriors, Abbot,’ shouted Holly. ‘We can talk about this.’

Abbot did not reply as such. Not unless howling and waving a sword could count as a reply.

The demons were spreading out even more now. Flanking her and avoiding being sucked off into another dimension all in one group. Abbot skidded ahead, digging his heels through the crust of ash, leaning his torso back to avoid tumbling. He was completely coated in ash now, even his ram’s horns were grey. Grey maelstroms trailed behind him as each lurch forward threw up a thousand flakes.

There’s nothing I can do, thought Holly. This guy wouldn’t listen to his own mother. If he knew who his mother was.

There was no way out. She would have to up the charge and knock him senseless for a couple of hours. Qwan would have to put Abbot in the magic circle unconscious.

‘Sorry,’ she said, and flicked up the power setting above the pistol’s thumb-rest.

Holly aimed with practised accuracy. The beam which pulsed from the Neutrino’s barrel was a more dangerous red now, and should knock Abbot head over heels a couple of times.

I’ll try not to enjoy that sight, thought Holly.

It was a sight she never got to enjoy, for at that precise moment the time surge reversed for a count of two. The beam disappeared into the past and Holly felt like throwing up as her atoms were scrambled once again by time quandary. She caught a glimpse of her ghostly past self less than a metre to her right. Out-of-focus past versions of the demons scrambled behind them like speed trails. Then the past was gone for another minute.

Abbot was still coming. Dangerously close now. Holly reckoned she had time for another shot. And with any luck, the demon Council would lose their singularity of purpose with their leader out of the picture.

She adjusted her aim, then the world shattered before her like a broken mirror. A curved section of the earth rose above her like a tidal wave, then dematerialized in a glittering flurry of sparks. Holly caught a glimpse of alternate dimensions through the gaps. There was sun and space and enormous multi-tentacled creatures.

The sheer amount of magic present in the air squeezed Holly’s head like a vice. She vaguely noted groaning behind her as Artemis and the others succumbed to the magical overload.

But she could not succumb. Some of the demons may have been sucked up into the time tunnel, but there could be more left. The air shimmered and settled. Rivulets of dust and rock spilled from mid-air. Huge chasms yawned all around, with nothing below but red space. There was more emptiness now than land.

Most of the demons were gone. Most, but not all. Abbot alone was left. Grinning maniacally, his sword extended before him.

‘Hello, elf,’ he said, and plunged the sword into Holly’s chest.

Holly felt the steel slide through the delicate membrane of elfin skin, between the eighth and ninth ribs and lodge a millimetre below her heart. It was cold as ice and more painful than words can describe. She fell backwards, slipping off the slick blade, crashing through the crust of ash. Blood poured out of her like water from a ruptured vessel. Her own heart did gravity’s work, emptying her veins with every beat.

‘Magic,’ she gasped, through the pain.

Abbot was jubilant. ‘Magic cannot help you, elf. I’ve been working on this sword for a long time, in case the warlocks ever showed up. There’s enough enchantment in this steel to stop an entire magic circle.’ He shook the sword as he talked. Spittle sprayed from his mouth, and Holly’s blood dripped from the blade, splattering lines on the ash.

Holly coughed, the action felt like it was splitting her in two. Magic could not help her here. There was only one person who could.

‘Artemis,’ she said, her voice weak and thin. ‘Artemis, help me.’

Artemis Fowl glanced her way briefly, then returned his gaze to the bomb’s timer, leaving Holly Short to die on the ground. Which she did.