“It’s not my bonnet,” said N
o
1. “And this is certainly not my muumuu.”
Minerva took his hand. Before the abduction she had been eighty percent genius and twenty percent twelve-year-old girl. Now it was about fifty-fifty. “I’m sorry for everything. For tying you up, and the rest. I thought you would try to eat me.”
“We’re not all savages,” said N
o
1. “And my wrists did hurt for ages. But I forgive you, I suppose. As long as your tying-up days are over.”
“Over. Yes. I promise.” Minerva looked over N
o
1’s head toward Artemis’s table. “Why is he helping me? Do you know?”
N
o
1 shrugged. “I’m not sure. Holly, our friend, said it was something about puberty. Apparently you’re pretty, though to be honest, I can’t see it myself.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a whistle from farther down the bar. Billy Kong was growing impatient. The ex-Paradizo employee beckoned N
o
1 on with his index finger.
“I should go. Leave. Depart.”
Minerva nodded. “Okay. Be careful. I will see you soon. Where is it? In your hand?”
“Yes,” said N
o
1 automatically, then, “how did you know?”
Minerva walked on slowly. “Genius. Can’t help it.”
This place is littered with genii, thought N
o
1. I just hope Mr. Kong isn’t another one.
He continued on his way, being careful to keep his feet and hands inside the muumuu. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a panic by exposing his gray stumpy digits.
Although, perhaps the humans would bow down and adore him. After all, he was incredibly handsome compared to their own gangly males.
Billy Kong was all smiles when N
o
1 reached the table. On
his
face, a smile looked like the first symptom of a disease. His hair was spiked in perfect points. Even in the middle of a kidnapping, Kong still made time for his hair. Good grooming says a lot about a person.
“Welcome back, demon,” he said, grabbing a hank of the muumuu. “So nice to see you. If it is you. . . .”
“If it is me?” said N
o
1, confused. “Me is all I can be.”
“Excuse me if I don’t take your word for it,” snorted Kong, tugging back the bonnet frill for a quick peek at N
o
1’s face. “If that Fowl kid is half as smart as I’ve heard, then he’s sure to be trying something.”
Kong examined the imp’s face, poking the plate on his forehead, pulling back his lips to check the pink gums and square white teeth. Finally he traced the rune on N
o
1’s forehead with his finger to make sure it wasn’t painted on.
“Satisfied?”
“Pretty much. I guess little Artemis didn’t have time to do a switch. I ran him too hard.”
“You ran us all too hard,” complained N
o
1. “We had to fly here in a machine. I saw the moon close up.”
“You’re breaking my heart, demon. After what you did to my brother, you’re lucky to be alive. Something I hope to remedy in the next few minutes.”
N
o
1 twisted his head to catch a glimpse of the elevators. Artemis, Butler, and Minerva were two steps away from the doors.
“Don’t look at them. They can’t help you. Nobody can help you.”
Kong clicked his fingers, and a muscular man joined them at the table. He was hefting a large metal suitcase.
“In case you’re wondering, this is a bomb. You know what a bomb is, don’t you?”
“Bomb,” said N
o
1. “Explosive. Incendiary device.” His eyes widened. “But that could hurt someone. A lot of someones.”
“Exactly. Not humans, though. Demons. I am going to strap this on to you, set the timer, then send you back to your island. The blast should at the very least put a big dent in the demon population. You won’t be crossing over here for your little nighttime hunts for quite a while.”
“I won’t do it,” said N
o
1, actually stamping his foot.
Kong laughed. “Are you sure you’re a demon? From what I hear, the last one was more . . . demonic.”
“I am a demon. A warlock demon.”
Kong leaned close enough for N
o
1 to smell his citrus aftershave. “Well, little Mr. Warlock, maybe you can turn this bomb into a bunch of flowers, but I doubt it.”
“I don’t have to do anything, because you can’t make me go back to Hybras.”
Kong took a set of handcuffs from his pocket. “On the contrary. I know exactly what to do. I picked up a thing or two in the Chateau. All we have to do is dig that silver slug out of your leg, and Hybras will suck you home.”
N
o
1 glanced again toward the elevator. The doors were closing on his new friends.
“You mean this silver slug?” he asked, showing Kong what had been concealed in his hand.
“He took it out,” breathed Billy Kong. “Fowl took out the slug.”
“Took it out,” agreed N
o
1. “Extracted. Removed.”
Then he dropped the silver nugget and disappeared.
Holly had been crouched on the mass damper watching events unfold. So far, everything had gone according to plan. Minerva had reached Artemis, and Butler had hustled them both to the elevator. At the other end of the bar, Billy Kong was doing his whole grinning-psycho bit. When this was all over, that Mud Man would have to be mind-wiped. There would be quite a few loose ends to clear up, actually. Not by her, though; she was not LEP anymore. After this she would be lucky to be Section 8.
Holly tapped a button on her wrist computer, zooming in on N
o
1. The imp raised his left hand. The signal. This was it. Time to test theories. It was either hello again or good-bye forever.
Artemis’s plan was a risky one because his calculations were theoretical, but it was the only chance to save the demon island. And Artemis had been right so far. If Holly had to rely on someone’s theories, she would prefer those theories to be Artemis Fowl’s.
As Holly watched N
o
1 drop the silver slug and disappear, she could not resist snapping a photo of Kong’s face with her helmet camera. His reaction was priceless. They would have a good laugh over that later.
Then she activated her wings, rising above the giant silver ball, watching for signs.
Seconds later, a faint blue electrical rectangle began spinning at the silver ball’s crown, exactly where Artemis had known it would. N
o
1 was coming back. Just as Artemis had predicted.
Such a large mass of silver within ten feet should interrupt N
o
1’s journey home. It should cause a momentary material
ization at the summit, where the damper’s energy field is most concentrated. You, Holly, have to be there to make sure this momentary materialization becomes more permanent
.
On the mass damper, N
o
1’s shape was visible inside the glowing rectangle. He seemed a little confused, as though half asleep. One arm snaked through into this world, grasping at reality. It was enough for Holly. She darted down and clamped a silver bracelet around N
o
1’s gray wrist. The ghostly fingers wiggled, then solidified. Solidity sped along N
o
1’s arm like gray paint, rescuing him from limbo. In seconds, where there had only been space, now crouched a shivering creature.
“Did I go?” asked the little imp. “Am I back?”
“Yes and yes,” said Holly. “Now stay quiet and still. We have to get you out of here.”
The mass damper swung slowly, dissipating the wind power buffeting Taipei 101. Holly leaned into the sway, grabbed hold of N
o
1, and took off vertically, careful to keep her cargo shielded by the seven hundred ton silver ball.
The next floor up was another observation deck, but it was closed for renovation. A single workman was slicing carpet for a corner section, and he did not seem surprised to see a muumuu-clad imp come sailing over the railing.
“Hey,” he said. “It’s an imp in a muumuu. You know something, imp?”
N
o
1 landed on the floor with a thump. “No,” he said cautiously. “Tell me something.”
“I am not a bit surprised to see you,” said the man. “In fact, you are so unremarkable, that I am going to forget all about you as soon as you’ve gone.”
N
o
1 picked himself up, straightening his bonnet. “You’ve had a talk with him, I see.”
Holly switched off her shield and speckled into view. “I gave him a blast of the
mesmer
.” She peered over the railing, down into the restaurant. “Come here, N
o
1. You’ll enjoy this.”
N
o
1 placed his fingers against the glass. Kong and his cronies were creating chaos below, blundering toward the elevators. Kong was particularly perturbed, barging ourists from his path and overturning tables.
“We probably don’t have time for this,” said N
o
1.
“Probably not,” agreed Holly. Neither fairy moved.
“Hey, look,” said the workman. “Another fairy. How utterly unremarkable.”
Only when the Toshiba elevator doors had closed behind Billy Kong and his crew, did Holly turn to leave.
“Where to now?” asked N
o
1, wiping a happy tear from his eye.
“Now we go to stage two,” replied Holly, pressing the button for the elevator. “Time to save Hybras.”
“Never a dull moment,” said N
o
1, scurrying into the metal box. “Hey, my first cliché.”
Artemis and Butler had watched Minerva cross the restaurant toward them. She held herself with considerable courage under the circumstances. Her chin was up and she had a determined look in her eye.
“Butler, can I ask you something?” said Artemis.
Butler was trying to keep an eye on every single person in the restaurant.
“I’m a little busy at the moment, Artemis.”
“Nothing taxing. Just a ‘yes’or‘no’answer. Is it normal, during puberty, to feel these blasted feelings of attraction at stressful times? During a ransom drop, for instance.”
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“Extremely. And funny, too—remember that quark joke?”
“I do. We must have a talk about jokes someday. Perhaps Minerva could join us. And in response to your question, it
is
normal. The more stressful the situation, the more your body pumps out the hormones.”
“Good. Back to business, then.”
Minerva didn’t rush. She picked her way around tourists and tables as she walked steadily toward them.
When she drew level, Butler placed a guiding and protective hand on her back.
“Get kidnapped every day, do you?” he growled, steering her toward the elevator.
Artemis followed, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure they were not being pursued. Kong was not even looking at them, so happy was he with his prize.
The elevator opened and the trio stepped inside. On the elevator wall, the floor light was rapidly winking downward.
Artemis held out his hand to Minerva. “Artemis Fowl the Second. Pleased to meet you finally.”
Minerva shook his hand warmly. “Minerva Paradizo. Likewise. You gave up your demon for me. I do appreciate it.” She blushed slightly.
The elevator slowed to a smooth stop, and the steel doors slid open with barely a hiss.
Minerva peeked out. “This is not the lobby. Why aren’t we leaving?”
Artemis stepped out onto the fortieth floor. “Our work here is not finished. I need to get our demon back, and it’s about time you knew what you almost went up against.”
CHAPTER 12
Artemis strode through the Kimsichiog Gallery lobby, flanked by Butler and Minerva.
“We’re in an art gallery,” said Minerva. “Do we really have time for art?”
Artemis halted, surprised. “There’s always time for art,” he said. “But we’re here for a very special piece of art.”
“Which is?”
Artemis pointed at painted silk banners hanging at regular intervals from the ceiling. Each banner was emblazoned with a single dramatic spiraling rune.
“I follow what is happening in the art world. This exhibition is of particular interest to me. The centerpiece is the remains of a fantastic sculpture. A semicircle of strange dancing creatures. Maybe ten thousand years old. Believed to have been found off the shore of Ireland, and yet here it is, in Taiwan, being exhibited by an American oil company.”
“Artemis, why are we here? I need to get home to my father.”
“Don’t you recognize the rune? Haven’t you seen it somewhere?”
Minerva remembered immediately. “
Mais oui! Certainement
. It is the rune from the demon’s forehead. The very same.”
Artemis snapped his fingers and continued walking.
“Exactly. When I met N
o
1, I knew his markings looked familiar. It took me a while to remember where I had seen them before, but once I knew, then it occurred to me that maybe this sculpture was not a sculpture at all.”
Minerva’s brain raced ahead. “It was the ring of warlocks. From the original time spell.”
“Precisely. What if they were not blasted into space? What if one of them had had the quick thinking to use the gargoyle’s touch, to turn them all to stone?”
“And if N
o
1 is a warlock, then he is the only one who can reanimate them.”
“Very good, Minerva. You catch on quick. Young, quick, and arrogant. You remind me of someone. Who could that be?”
“Beats me,” said Butler, rolling his eyes.
“But how did you set this up?” the French girl wondered aloud. “The meeting site was Kong’s idea. I heard him on the phone.”
Artemis smiled at his own cleverness. “While he was thinking about it, I said, ‘I’ll be wearing a burgundy
tie. Pay
attention to that. There are
a hundred and one
ways this could go wrong. If it does, the police could
tie one
of us up for a long time.’ Do you see?”
Minerva plucked at a curl thoughtfully. “
Mon Dieu!
You used the power of suggestion. Tie pay. A hundred and one. Tie one.”
“Or what Kong’s subconscious heard: Taipei 101, Taiwan.”
“Brilliant, Artemis. Extraordinary. And coming from me, that means something.”
“It was brilliant,” said Artemis, with his characteristic lack of modesty. “Allied to the fact that Kong’s second home is Taiwan, I was reasonably confident that it would work.”
There was a harried-looking man at the gallery’s reception desk. He was dressed in a neon-blue suit, and his head was completely shaven, except for a spiral of stubble in the shape of N
o
1’s rune. He spoke in rapid Taiwanese into a Bluetooth headset clipped to his ear.
“No, no. Salmon is not good enough. Squid and lobster are what we ordered. You have them here by eight o’clock, or I will come down there, slice you up, and serve you as sushi instead.”
“Trouble with the caterers?” Artemis said pleasantly when the man had disconnected.
“Yes,” replied the man. “The exhibition is opening tonight and . . .”
The man stopped because he had looked up to see who he was talking to and spotted Butler.
“Well, wow. Big. I mean hello. I am Mr. Lin, the curator here. Can I help you?”
“We were hoping for a private preview of the exhibition,” said Artemis. “Specifically, the dancing figures.”
Mr. Lin was so surprised, he could do little more than bluster. “What? A what? Private? No, no, no. Impossible, out of the question. This is important art. Look at my head. Look! I don’t just do this for any old exhibition.”
“I realize that, but my friend here, the large one, would be extremely happy if you could let us in for a minute.”
Mr. Lin opened his mouth to answer, but something down the hall caught his attention.
“What is that? Is that a muumuu?”
Artemis didn’t bother to look. “Oh, yes. We have disguised our fairy friend as a child in a muumuu.”
Mr. Lin frowned, and the spiral on his head moved. “Fairy friend? Oh, really? Who are you people? Are you from
Pop Art Today
? Is this one of Dougie Hemler’s postmodern stunts?”
“No. He’s a real fairy. A demon warlock, to be precise. The one behind him, flying, is an elf.”
“Flying? You tell Dougie Hemler from me that there’s isn’t a chance in . . .” Then he spotted Holly hovering over N
o
1’s head. “Oh!”
“Oh!” agreed Artemis. “That’s a fair reaction. Now, can we go in? It’s extremely important.”
“Are you going to ruin the exhibition?”
“Probably,” Artemis admitted.
Mr. Lin’s lip quivered as he spoke. “Then I can’t let you in.”
Holly darted forward, collapsing her helmet visor.
“I think you can let us in,” she said, her voice layered with magic. “Because these three humans are your oldest friends. You invited them for a sneak preview.”
“And what about you two?”
“Don’t worry about us. We’re not even here. We’re just inspiration for your next exhibition. So why don’t you buzz us all in.”
Mr. Lin flapped a hand at Holly. “Why would I worry about you? You’re not even here. Just some silly idea flying around my head. As for you three guys, I am
so
glad you could make it. Why don’t you go ahead. That exhibit is going to knock your socks off!”
“You don’t need to video us,” prompted Holly.
“Why don’t you shut down the gallery cameras?”
“I’ll just switch off the gallery cameras, give you guys a little privacy.”
“Good idea.”
The curator had turned his attention to the pile of posters on his desk before the security door closed behind Artemis and his group.
The exhibition hall was ultramodern, with dark wooden floors and slatted blinds. The walls were hung with photographs, giant blow-ups of the dancing figures in the center of the room. The figures themselves were raised on a dais, to make their detail easier to view. There were so many spotlights on the figures that there was barely a shadow on the stone.
N
o
1 absently pulled off his bonnet, approaching the exhibit in a daze as though
he
had been
mesmerized
and not the curator.
He climbed onto the dais, stroking the stone skin of the first figure.
“Warlocks,” he whispered. “Brothers.”
The sculpture was beautiful in its detail, and yet horrific in its subject matter. It consisted of four creatures, ranged in a broken semicircle, in the act of dancing or recoiling from something. They were small squat fairies, like N
o
1, with thrusting jaws, barrel chests, and stumpy tails. Their bodies, limbs, and foreheads were covered with swirling runes. The demons were all holding hands, and the fourth held on to the severed hand of the next in line.
“The circle was broken,” said N
o
1. “Something went wrong.”
Artemis climbed onto the dais beside him. “Can you bring them back?
“Bring them back?” said N
o
1, startled.
“From what I know of the gargoyle’s touch, it can transform living things to stone, and back again. You have the touch; can you use it?”
N
o
1 rubbed his palms nervously. “I may have the touch. You know,
maybe
and that’s a big maybe. I turned a wooden skewer to stone, at least I think it was stone. Maybe it was just coated with ash. I was under a lot of pressure. Everybody was watching. You know how it is—maybe you don’t. How many of you have even been in imp school. None, right?”
Artemis gripped his shoulder. “You’re babbling, N
o
1. You need to concentrate.”
“Yes. Of course. Concentrate. Focus. Think.”
“Good. Now see if you can bring them back. It’s the only way to save Hybras.”
Holly shook her head. “Way to keep the pressure off, genius.”
Minerva was circling the exhibit in a daze. “These statues
are
actual demons. They have been among us all this time. I should have seen it, but Abbot looked nothing like his.”
Holly landed beside the girl, up close.
“There are entire species that you know nothing about. You almost helped to wipe out one of them. You were lucky. If that
had
happened, a dozen Artemis Fowls would not have been enough to rescue you from the fairy police.”
“I see. I said sorry already. Can we move on?”
Holly frowned at her. “Glad to see you’ve forgiven yourself so quickly.”
“Harboring feelings of guilt can have a negative affect on mental health.”
“Child geniuses,” growled Holly.
“Genii,” said Minerva.
On the dais, N
o
1 was laying hands on one of the petrified demons.
“So, back in Hybras. I just kind of held the skewer and got excited, then it started. I wasn’t trying to turn it into stone.”
“Could you get excited now?” asked Artemis.
“What? Just like that? I don’t know. I feel a bit sick, to be honest. I think the muumuu is giving me a headache. It really is bright.”
“Maybe if Butler gave you a fright?”
“It’s not the same. I need some real pressure. I know Mr. Butler wouldn’t actually kill me.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure.”
“Oh, ha-ha. You’re a funny one,” said N
o
1. “I can see I’m going to have to stay on my toes around you.”
Butler was checking his pistol, when he heard noises in the corridor. He ran to the security door and peered out through the small rectangle of toughened glass.
“We’ve got company,” he declared, cocking his pistol. “Kong found us.”
The bodyguard put a single round into the electronic lock, frying the chip and sealing the door.
“It’s not going to take them long to open that door. We need to wake up those demons and get out of here. Now!”
Artemis squeezed N
o
1’s shoulder, nodding at the security door.
“That enough pressure for you?”
On the other side of the security door, Kong and his men were halted by the sight of a smoking keypad.
“Dammit,” swore Kong. “He busted the lock. We’re going to have to shoot our way in. There’s no time for planning. Don, you have the case?”
Don held up the suitcase. “Right here.”
“Good. If by some miracle there is a demon in there, clip the case onto its little wrist, good and tight. I don’t want to miss another chance.”
“Will do. We have grenades, boss. We could blow the door.”
“No,” snapped Kong. “I need Minerva and I don’t want her injured. Anyone hurts her, I hurt them. Understood?”
Everybody understood. Nothing complicated about it.
Inside the gallery, Artemis was getting a little anxious. He had hoped that Kong would leave the building immediately, but the hit man must have spotted one of the exhibition posters in the elevator and come to the same conclusion that Artemis himself had.
“Anything?” he asked N
o
1, who was vaguely rubbing a statue’s arm.
“Not yet. I’m trying.”
Artemis patted his shoulder. “Try a little harder. I have no desire to get involved in a firefight in a high-rise building. At the very least we would all end up in a Taiwanese prison.”
Okay, thought N
o
1. Concentrate. Reach into the stone.
He held the stone warlock’s finger tightly and tried to feel something. From the little he knew about warlocks, he guessed that this was probably Qwan, the elder magician. The stone figure’s head was encircled by a simple band with a spiral motif at the front, the sign of leadership.
How terrible it must have been, N
o
1 reflected, to see your home dematerialize and be left behind. To know it was all your own fault.
It was not my fault!
snapped a voice in N
o
1’s head.
It was
hat stupid demon N’zall. Now are you going to get me out of here or not?
N
o
1 almost fainted. His breath came in short explosive gasps, and his heart seemed to hike upward in his chest.
Come on, young warlock. Release me! I have been waiting for a long long time
.
The voice, the presence, was inside the sculpture. It was Qwan.
Of course it’s Qwan. You’re holding my hand. Who did you think it was? You’re not a simpleton, are you? Just my luck, wait ten thousand years and then a simpleton turns up
.
“I am not a simpleton!” blurted N
o
1.
“Of course not,” said Artemis encouragingly. “Just do your best. I will instruct Butler to hold Kong back for as long as he can.”
N
o
1 bit his lip and nodded. If he spoke aloud, it could get confusing. And this situation was confusing enough without him adding to it.
He would try thought-power. Qwan was speaking in his mind, maybe it would work the other way.
Of course it works!
Qwan sent.
And what is all that nonsense about cooked food? Just release me from this prison
.
N
o
1 winced, trying to mentally black out his dreams of a cooked banquet.
I don’t know how to set you free
, he thought.
I don’t know if I can
.
Of course you can
, responded Qwan.
You have enough
magic in you to teach a troll to play an instrument. Just let it out
.
How? I have no idea how
.
Qwan was silent for a moment while he took a quick peek into N
o
1’s memories.
Oh, I see. You are a complete novice. No training of any kind. Just as well, really; without expert tuition you could have blown up half of Hybras. Very well, I will give you a little nudge in the right direction. I can’t do much from here, but maybe I can get your power flowing. It will get easier after this. Once you have been in contact with a warlock, some of his knowledge is passed on to you.