I think I'll just concentrate on finding my own time, he thought.
Good idea, thought Qwan.
So you turned yourself into a statue? That was Qweffor again, dying to catch up.
Oh, for heaven's sake, grumbled Qwan. See for yourself. And he sent the relevant memories across to his old apprentice.
Everyone in the tunnel was treated to a cinematic rendering of the initial creation of the time tunnel, ten thousand years ago.
In their minds' eye, seven warlocks hovered above the very mouth of an active volcano, protected from the heat by a magical circle. This was an altogether more impressive affair than the improvised magic circle
Artemis had previously witnessed. These warlocks were a confident, impressive crowd, swathed in elaborate robes. Their magical circle was actually a sphere of multicoloured light. What's more they did not need to get their boots dirty in the ash — they hovered seven metres above the volcano mouth. Chanting in deep bass tones, they poured bolt after bolt of magic into the magma until it began bubbling and convulsing. As the warlocks concentrated on inducing the volcano, Abbot and his partner Bludwin crept out from behind a rocky outcrop further up. And even though demon hides can endure great heat, both were sweating profusely.
With barely a pause to realize how moronic and shortsighted their plan was, the saboteurs leaped from the outcrop down towards the circle below. Bludwin, who was blessed with the twin gifts of idiocy and misfortune, missed every warlock in the circle and plunged flailing into the hissing lava. His body slightly raised the temperature of the surface lava, not significantly, but enough to taint the spell. Abbot connected with Qweffor, dragging him out of the circle and to the lip of the volcano. Abbot's hide immediately began steaming, and poor Qweffor, still in a magical stupor, was as helpless as a newborn under his weight.
All of this happened at the worst possible time. The spell was loose in the volcano now, and the warlocks could no more stop it than a mouse could hold back the sea.
A magically enhanced pillar of solid lava spewed red, orange and magnificent from the volcano, straight into the inverted cauldron of blue magic. Grimacing and in obvious distress, the warlocks converted the molten rock into pure power, pumping the energy back into the ground.
Abbot and Qweffor were caught simultaneously by the lava and the magical backwash. Qweffor, already in an insubstantial magical state, collapsed into a body-shaped cluster of stars, which were then absorbed into Abbot's body. Abbot twisted in agony, tearing at his own skin for a brief moment, then he was smothered in a deluge of magic and disappeared.
The warlocks maintained the spell for as long as they could, until most of the island had been transported to another dimension. But the lava kept coming from deep beneath the earth, and with the circle broken, they could not contain its savage might. It swatted them aside like a bear would swat annoying insects.
The stricken warlocks spiralled through the air in a rough line, smoke trailing behind them from their flaming robes. Their island was gone, their magic was spent and the ocean below was ready to crush their bones. There was only one chance for survival. Qwan called on his last sparks of magic and cast a gargoyle spell. The most basic of all warlock talents. In mid-air, the warlocks were petrified, and they fell in a tumbling line into the bubbling ocean far below. One died instantly when his head snapped off, two more lost arms and legs, and shock killed the rest. All except Qwan, who had known what was coming. They sank to the bottom of Saint George's Channel, where they would shelter generations of spider crabs for several thousand years.
For several thousand years, thought Qweffor. Maybe being stuck inside Abbot wasn't so bad.
'Where is Abbot now?' asked Artemis.
'He's inside me,' replied the apprentice. 'Trying to get out.'
'Good, thought Qwan. I want a word with him.'
Chapter 16: POINT OF IMPACT
This time, the materialization was a painful process. Being separated from a thousand consciousnesses left Artemis with a deep sense of loss.
For the first time in his life, he had completely belonged. He knew everyone, and they knew him. There would always be a bond between them all, though the specifics of others' memories were already fading.
Artemis felt like an adhesive plaster that had been ripped off an enormous limb, and flung on the ground. He lay on the earth shivering.
Sharing consciousness had felt so right, that now it was as if he had just lost the use of several senses, including balance.
He opened his eyes, squinting through the sunlight. Sunlight! They were on Earth! Though where and when remained to be seen.
Artemis rolled on to his stomach, then struggled slowly to all fours. The others lay in the crater, disorientated like him, but alive, judging by the moans and groans. He himself felt fine, except for a darting pain in his left eye. His vision was sharp, but slightly yellowed, as though he was wearing pale sunglasses. Holly the soldier was already on her feet, coughing the ash from her lungs. When her airways were clear, she helped Artemis to his feet. She winked at
Artemis. 'Blue sky. We did it.' Artemis nodded. 'Perhaps.'The wink drew his attention to her left eye. It seemed as though they hadn't made it through the tunnel unaltered.
'Look at me, Holly. Do you notice anything different?' 'This isn't anything to do with puberty, is it?' said Holly, smiling; then she noticed. .
'Your eyes. They've changed. One blue and one hazel.' Artemis smiled.
'You too. We swapped in transit. Just the eye as far as I can make out.'
Holly thought about this for a moment, then ran her hands over her head and body.
'Everything's in place, thank goodness. Except now I have a human eye.'
'It could have been a lot worse,' said Artemis. 'You could have been travelling with Mulch.'
Holly winced. 'Now that you mention it.' A solitary blue dot of magic sparkled inside Holly's new eyeball, reducing it in size slightly.
'That's better,' she sighed. 'I had a blinder of a headache.
Your new eye must be too small; why don't you use your ill-gotten magic to fix it?'
Artemis tried, closed his eyes and concentrated. But nothing happened.
'It seems as though the transplant did not take. I must have used all I had in the tunnel.'
Holly punched his shoulder lightly. 'Maybe you passed it on to me. I feel great — that time tunnel was like a magical mud bath. Maybe it's just as well that you lost your magic. The last thing the People need is a magical criminal mastermind running around above ground.'
'A pity,' sighed Artemis. 'The possibilities were endless.'
'Here,' said Holly, taking his head in her hands. 'Let me fix you up.'
Her fingertip glowed blue and Artemis felt his new eye expand slightly in his socket. A single tear ran down his cheek and the headache disappeared.
'A pity I was unable to do it myself. Being magical for even a short while was simply. .'
'Magical?'
Artemis smiled. 'Exactly. Thank you, Holly.'
Holly smiled back. 'It's the least I can do for someone who brought me back to life.'
Qwan and No.1 were on their feet. The old warlock was trying not to look too smug, and No.1 was wiggling his tail experimentally.
'You never know what that tunnel will do to you,' he explained. 'I lost half a finger last time. It was my favourite finger too.'
'Rarely in my tunnels,' said Qwan. 'My tunnels are works of beauty. If the other warlocks were alive, they would give me a medal. Where is
Qweffor, by the way?'
Qweffor was buried up to his waist in an ash mound. Head down. Qwan and No.1 hauled him out by the boots. He lay spluttering and snorting on the ground.
