Artemis Fowl: the time paradox

Artemis looked. In the mirror he saw a tall, slender boy, his head all but invisible under a wild mop of shoulder-length hair, and even some bristles on his chin.

‘Ah. I see.’

‘I’m surprised you do,’ said Holly. ‘Through all that hair.’

‘Accelerated ageing. A side effect of the time stream,’ Artemis hypothesized, unconcerned. ‘When we return, the effects should be reversed.’ He paused, catching sight of Holly’s reflection. ‘Perhaps you should check yourself in the mirror. I am not the only one who has changed.’

Holly elbowed him aside, certain she was being kidded, but the half-smile died on her lips when she saw the fairy in the looking glass. It was her own face, but different, missing a few scars and a few decades’ wear and tear.

‘I am young,’ she gasped. ‘Younger.’

‘Don’t be upset,’ said Artemis briskly. ‘It is temporary. All this is nothing more than dress-up. My physical maturity, your youth. In a moment or two we will be back in the stream.’

But Holly was upset. She knew how this had happened.

I was thinking of Mother. Of our last hours together. Of how I was then.

And so that was how she had changed.

Look at me. Just out of the Academy. In human terms, barely older than Artemis.

For some reason, this was a disturbing thought.

‘Get some trousers on,’ she snapped, buttoning a crisp white shirt to her neck. ‘Then we can discuss your theories.’

Artemis used his extra inches to reach up and tug a large box from the top of the wardrobe. In it were neatly folded layers of clothes destined for one of Angeline Fowl’s charity shops.

He tossed a silver wig to Holly.

‘Seventies fancy-dress party,’ he explained. ‘Mother went as a star-ship trooper, I seem to remember. Now cover those pointy ears.’

‘A hat would be easier,’ said Holly, pulling the wig over her auburn crew-cut.

‘No such luck, I’m afraid,’ sighed Artemis, selecting an old tracksuit from the box. ‘This is not exactly Harrods; we will have to make do.’

Artemis’s old loafers fitted Holly well enough, and there was a pair of his father’s trainers in the box that stayed on his feet when the toes were stuffed.

‘Always good to be dressed when you’re stealing monkeys,’ said Holly.

Artemis rolled up the tracksuit sleeves. ‘There’s no need to dress at all really. We simply wait for a few minutes until my mother almost catches Butler sneaking upstairs with the lemur. I remember him sliding the cage through the doorway, then I brought it back upstairs. The moment that cage comes in here, we grab it, take off these ridiculous clothes and wish our way back to Number One.’

Holly checked herself in the mirror. She looked like a presidential bodyguard from another planet. ‘That sounds so simple.’

‘It was simple. Will be. Butler never even entered the study. All we need to do is stand here and wait.’

‘And how did you find this particular moment?’

Artemis swept a sheaf of black hair back from his brow, revealing mismatched sorrowful eyes.

‘Listen,’ he said, pointing upwards, towards the ceiling.

Holly tucked strands of silver hair behind one ear, cocking her head to one side to focus her considerable sense of hearing. She heard the grandfather clock, and the time travellers’ beating hearts, but above them there was a strident, hysterical voice.

‘Mother,’ said Artemis, eyes downcast. ‘It was the first time that she did not recognize me. She is at this moment threatening to call the police. In a moment she runs downstairs to the phone and discovers Butler.’

Holly understood. How could any son forget a moment like that one? Finding it again must have been easy and painful.

‘I remember it clearly. We had just returned from Rathdown Park, the private zoo, and I thought I should check how she was feeling before flying to Morocco. In a month from now she won’t be able to look after herself any more.’

Holly squeezed his forearm. ‘It’s fine, Artemis. This is all in the past. In a few minutes your mother will be back on her feet. She will love you as she always has.’

Artemis nodded glumly. He knew it was probably true, but he also knew that he would never fully escape the spectre of this bad memory.

Upstairs, Angeline Fowl’s voice moved from her bedchamber to the upper landing, trailing shrill notes behind her.

Artemis pulled Holly back against the wall.

‘Butler will be on the stairs now. We should keep to the shadows just in case.’

Holly couldn’t help a flutter of nerves. ‘You’re sure he stays outside? The last time I faced Butler as an enemy, I had the entire LEP on my side. I don’t relish the thought of meeting him armed with nothing more than a silver wig.’

‘Calm yourself, Captain,’ said Artemis, unconsciously patronizing. ‘He stays outside. I saw it with my own eyes.’

‘Saw what with your own eyes?’ asked Butler, who had appeared in the archway behind them, having let himself in through the adjoining bedroom door.

Artemis felt his pulse throb in his fingertips. How could this be? This was not the way it happened. Artemis had never been on the receiving end of Butler’s glare before, and understood for the first time just how terrifying his bodyguard could be.

‘You two kids have been helping yourselves to the Fowl wardrobe I see,’ continued Butler, without waiting for an answer to his question. ‘Now, are you going to cause a fuss or are you going to come quietly? Let me give you a hint, the correct answer is come quietly.’

Magic is the only way out, Holly realized.

She twisted her chin sharply to call on her fairy power. If she couldn’t stun Butler, she would mesmerize him.

‘Stand down, human,’ she intoned, voice loaded with hypnotic magic. But the mesmer is a two-pronged attack, audio and visual. Butler could hear the magical words but eye contact was not consistent in the shadows.

‘What?’ he said, surprised. ‘How did you …’

The hulking bodyguard had been drugged enough times to realize that his will was being sapped. Somehow these kids were putting him under. He staggered backwards, his shoulder bashing against the arch.

‘Sleep, Butler,’ said the little one in the star-ship-trooper wig.

She knows me?

This was serious. These two had done some surveillance and decided to break in anyway.

I have to neutralize them before I pass out, thought Butler. If I go down, Master Artemis and Mrs Fowl are defenceless.

He had two options: fall on the midget burglars, or shoot them with the tranquillizer pistol he was carrying for the planned animal abduction at Rathdown Park.

He chose the second option. At least tranquillizer darts would not smother these two or crush their bones. Butler felt mildly guilty about his decision to trank a couple of kids, but not overly so; after all, he worked for Artemis Fowl and knew exactly how dangerous children could be.

The star-ship trooper came out of the shadows, and Butler could see her eyes clearly. One blue, one tawny.

‘Sleep, Butler,’ she said again, in that melodious layered voice. ‘Aren’t your eyelids heavy? Sleep.’

She’s hypnotizing me! Butler realized. He dragged out the pistol with fingers that felt as though they had been dipped in molten rubber, then sprinkled with ball bearings.

‘You sleep,’ he mumbled, then shot the girl in the hip.