Angeline Fowl. This entire situation brought back too many painful memories.
‘Of course, Artemis. I’m sorry about the probe. I had to be sure that I could take all of this on face value.’
‘My feelings are not important,’ said Artemis, leading Holly by the elbow. ‘Now, my mother. Please.’
Holly had to force herself to examine Angeline Fowl properly, and, the moment she did, a deep-rooted dread sent pins and needles fluttering up and down her limbs.
‘I know this,’ she whispered. ‘I know it.’
‘This condition is familiar to you?’ asked Artemis.
His mother’s face and arms were coated with a clear gel that oozed from her pores and then steamed away. Angeline’s eyes were wide but only the whites were visible and her fingers clutched the sheets as though hanging on to life.
Holly took a medi-kit from her belt, placed it on the bedside table and used a swab to take a sample of the gel. ‘This gel. That smell. It can’t be. It can’t.’
‘It can’t be what?’ asked Artemis, his fingers tight on her forearm.
Holly ignored him, slipping her helmet on and opening a channel to Police Plaza.
‘Foaly? Are you there?’
The centaur responded on the second buzz. ‘Right here, Holly. Chained to the desk. Commander Kelp has sent me a couple of mails asking where you are. I fobbed him off with the Ritual story. I reckon you have about-’
Holly interrupted his chatter. ‘Foaly, listen to me. Artemis’s mother. I think we have something… I think it’s bad.’
The centaur’s mood changed instantly. Holly suspected that he had been waffling to hide his anxiety. After all, Artemis’s message had been very grim.
‘OK. I’ll sync with the manor systems. Ask Artemis for his password.’
Holly lifted her visor to look Artemis in the eye. ‘Foaly wants your security password.’
‘Of course, of course.’ Artemis was drifting and it took him a moment to remember his own secret word. ‘It’s CENTAUR. All caps.’
Below the Earth’s crust, Foaly stored the compliment in the corner of his brain that held treasured memories. He would take that one out later and gloat over a glass of sim-wine.
‘Centaur. Right. I’m in.’
A large plasma television on the wall flickered on and Foaly’s face appeared, first in blurred bubbles, then in sharp focus. The web cam in Artemis’s hand whirred as the centaur remotely fiddled with its focus motor.
‘The more points of view the better, eh?’ he said, his voice pulsing from the television speakers in surround sound.
Artemis held the camera before his mother’s face, holding it as still as possible.
‘I take it, from Holly’s reaction, that this condition
Holly pointed to the sheen covering Angeline’s face. ‘See the gel, Foaly, from the pores. And the smell of lilies too; there can’t be any doubt.’
‘It’s impossible,’ muttered the centaur. ‘We eradicated this years ago.’
Artemis was growing weary of these vague references.
‘No diagnosis just yet, Artemis; it would be premature. Holly, I need to run a scan.’
Holly positioned the palm of her hand over Angeline Fowl’s forehead and the omni-sensor in her glove bathed Artemis’s mother in a matrix of lasers.
Foaly’s finger swished like a metronome as the information was fed to his system. It was an unconscious movement that seemed too jolly for the situation.
‘OK,’ he said, after half a minute. ‘I have what I need.’
Holly closed her fist on the sensor, then stood with Artemis, clasping his hand in hers, silently awaiting the results. It did not take long, especially when Foaly had a good idea of his search parameters.
His face was grim as he read the results. ‘The computer has analysed the gel. I am afraid it’s Spelltropy.’
Artemis noticed Holly’s grip tightening. Whatever this
He broke free from Holly, striding to the wall-mounted television. ‘I need an explanation, Foaly. Now, please.’
Foaly sighed, then nodded. ‘Very well, Artemis. Spelltropy was a plague among the fairy People. Once contracted, it was invariably fatal, and progressed to terminal stages in three months. From that point the patient has less than a week. This disease has everything. Neurotoxins, cell destruction, resistance to all conventional therapies, incredibly aggressive. It’s amazing, really.’
Artemis’s teeth were clenched. ‘That’s fabulous, Foaly. At last, something even you can admire.’
Foaly wiped a bead of sweat from his nose, pausing before he spoke. ‘There is no cure, Artemis. Not any more. I’m afraid your mother is dying. Judging by the concentration in the gel, I would say she has twenty-four hours, thirty-six if she fights. If it’s any consolation, she won’t suffer at the end.’
Holly crossed the room, reaching up to grasp Artemis’s shoulder, noticing how tall her human friend was becoming.
‘Artemis, there are things we can do to make her comfortable.’
Artemis shrugged her off, almost violently. ‘No. I can achieve wonders. I have talents. Information is my weapon.’ He returned his attention to the screen. ‘Foaly, forgive my outburst. I am myself now. You said that this Spelltropy was a plague; where did it begin?’
‘Magic,’ said Foaly simply, then elaborated: ‘Magic is fuelled by the Earth and when the Earth could no longer absorb the sheer bulk of pollutants the magic became tainted also. Spelltropy first appeared about twenty years ago in Linfen, China.’
Artemis nodded. It made sense. Linfen was infamous for its high pollution levels. As the centre of China’s coal industry, the city’s air was laden with fly ash, carbon monoxide, nitrogen oxides, volatile organic compounds, arsenic and lead. There was a joke among Chinese employers: if you hold a grudge against an employee, send him to work in Linfen.
‘It is passed on through magic, and thus is completely impervious to magic. In ten years, it had almost decimated the fairy population. We lost twenty-five per cent of our numbers. Atlantis was worst hit.’
‘But you stopped it,’ Artemis insisted. ‘You must have found a cure.’
‘Not me,’ said Foaly. ‘Our old friend Opal Koboi found the antidote. It took her ten years, then she tried to charge through the nose for it. We had to get a court order to confiscate the supply of antidote.’
Artemis was growing impatient. ‘I don’t care about the politics, Foaly. I want to know what the cure was, and why we can’t administer it to my mother.’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Abbreviate,’ snapped Artemis.
Foaly’s eyes dipped, unable to meet Artemis’s. ‘The cure occurred naturally. Many creatures contain an important pharmacopoeia and act as natural magic enhancers, but because of human activities more than twenty thousand of these potentially life-saving species become extinct every year. Opal developed a simple syringe gun to extract the cure for Spelltropy without killing the donor animal.’
Artemis suddenly realized why Foaly couldn’t look him in the eye. He cradled his head in his hands.
‘Oh no. Don’t say it.’
‘Opal Koboi found the antidote in the brain fluid of the silky sifaka lemur of Madagascar.’
‘I always knew,’ moaned Artemis, ‘that this would come back.’
‘Unfortunately the silky sifaka is now extinct. The last one died almost eight years ago.’
Artemis’s eyes were haunted by guilt.
‘I know,’ he whispered. ‘I killed it.’
