Chapter One;
Search and Recover
-
Holly twirled around in Foaly's misshapen chair, her legs stuck out from her like the blades of a ceiling fan, trying to produce an artificial breeze. Despite her efforts, the air still hung heavily around her, beading sweat onto her forehead. Resisting the urge to procrastinate her paper work in favour of an icy nutri-shake, Holly tried to remember why exactly she'd trekked down the hallway with a towering stack of files just to sit in the Ops Booth with Foaly. It came to her just as the air-conditioner whirred back into life.
Damn heat…Holly grumbled silently, arching her back. Stupid chair.
After scratching her signature onto the last incident report, Holly tried to slump back into Foaly's chair. Tried, that is, because, when she leant into the backrest, something began digging into her spine. Sitting up straight, Holly reached behind her to find the source of the annoyance. Her fingers found a nub of plastic.
'Nice to see my posture correctors are doing their job,' remarked Foaly from the monitor station. He didn't glance at her, just stared straight ahead. Most likely his eyes haven't left that monitor all day, thought Holly. Workaholic pony and his stupid chairs.
She let her gaze wander over the map on the screen. It took her a moment for her to realise what she was seeing. Intrigued, she pushed a pile of mission statements sideways and stood to get a better look.
The map denoted six dots with eight or more concentric circles radiating out from the centre. Earthquake epicentres. She checked the dates; each had been in the last six weeks.
'Does this have anything to do with that quake in Atlantis on Friday?'
Foaly actually turned to look her in the eye. 'Yes, and one in Tara, and the ones in Len Fâit, Hadrian, and the two in Atlantis…'
Holly leaned over his arm rest, tracing a finger over each of the locations. 'Do you think–'
A light flashed on the desk beside her, interrupting the query. It belonged to an elaborate looking series of buttons and levers that Holly daren't have touched. She watched it for a moment, wondering idly if it would go away, or if Foaly would answer it. (Anything to get away from paper work, her mind chided.) It didn't go away. It seemed to her that the flashing became more insistent.
'Foaly?' She waited for a response. 'Foaly!'
He looked up from the calculations on the bottom of the screen, and followed her line of sight. 'Hit the blue button.'
Holly squinted at the panel. 'Which blue button?'
'On the left.'
She pressed it down. Another panel emerged from the only clear space on the desk. Holly scowled pointedly at Foaly.
'My left, that is.'
Pressing down the proper button, Holly decided she might just go back to her office - air conditioning or no air conditioning.
Something beeped, and the monitor above Foaly's screen flickered into life. A rush of static filled the screen for a moment. Holly smirked. Even she could navigate the communications software better than whoever was trying to establish this line.
As the blur of grey settled into Root's face, Holly rearranged her own into an expression of neutrality – despite the interference, resolution was clear enough that she could see the red tinge to her commander's cheeks quite clearly. She elbowed Foaly in the ribs, coughing gently.
Foaly spun his chair to face Root, a smile tucked into the corners of his face. 'Julius! What a welcome surprise! Calling again on the technological genie of Haven?' Obviously the centaur had no respect for an elf in a bad mood. 'Hang on while I get you onto an integral line – who established this link? It's hor-ren-dous.'
Commander Root reddened further. 'Get back in your bottle, genie, before I shove it down your throat. And don't call me Julius.'
'Charmed.' Foaly beamed, lacing his fingers in front of him. 'So, what dilemma do you need my unrivalled expertise for now?'
'Not you, you egotistical mule.' Root's complexion dulled ever so slightly. Holly wondered what he had over Foaly; nothing cooled the Commander like having the upper-hand. 'Someone told me Holly was in here.'
'Right here, sir.' She silenced Foaly's forthcoming remark about her sudden obedience with a glare. Her uncleared flight to Tara had given her some grief over the past couple of weeks – more than the paper work even.
'Good. You're going top-side.'
Her mind raced. Her office time had only just started…why would he give her active duty? Holly's mouth dropped a fraction. 'He hasn't…has he?'
'No. This isn't about that Mud-boy, thank Frond. It's about this.'
The box displaying Root's face minimised to a tiny square on the screen. In the space vacated, another map flashed onto the screen. A misshapen blue-green splotch marred most of the landscape. Holly raised one eyebrow.
'That's a power-chart.'
Power-charts recorded any surges of fairy magic in any given area. They were used to track ley lines and magic hotspots. She wondered why this one was so important – it wasn't even very clear. It looked like someone had spilt radio-active coffee over a map of Europe. She could barely make out the shape of Ireland from behind the stain of green.
Her mind jerked as her sense caught up with her. Upon which, she stared blankly at the map. Only something incredibly powerful could have generated that much energy. Ley lines, the most magical sites of the modern era, didn't even show up as anything more than an aqua shadow! But this signature – what ever it was – was so large that it had coloured half of Europe. And that was impossible.
'I suppose you want an iris cam then?' Foaly's voice contained just a hint of wonder.
'Didn't it cross your tiny, equine mind I might want to record this?' Root's tone dripped with sarcasm, to the point that Holly considered recommending bottling the refuse to sell on the trade-markets.
Foaly leaned back in his chair – Holly noticed his didn't have a posture corrector – at ease again, despite some awe lingering in his eyes. 'I knew you would need something from my treasure trove.'
'Shut up pony.' The screen went black.
-
A few hours found Holly hovering, shielded, over what the techies had judged to be the source of the energy source – a fairy port of ancient origins. In the old days, when fairies still lived on the surface, this spot had been a centre of religion and commerce. The People's answer to Rome. Of course, that was millennia ago. The face of the cove had changed since then.
The sea had long since eroded much of the settlement itself. The temple of the ocean sprite Nika (for who the city was named) no longer stood on the shore, and many of the buildings that had once been beside it were now submerged under the sea. A landslide had buried most evidence of life – it had been nothing like the cataclysmic sinking of Râet, but still spectacular in its own right.
Long fingers of land sliced green into the toiling black of the sea, ending abruptly into sheer cliffs. Cave systems riddled their innards, turning the mini-peninsulas into mazes that were reminiscent of an ant-nest. The whole thing was probably on the verge of collapse.
Holly tried hard not to think of that as she landed. Instead, she occupied her mind with exactly how she was going to track down this power source, or what ever else was flooding ley lines across the Emerald Isle and into the mainland.
Energy sensors were no good – Holly had worked that out on her own. The energy source was so powerful that it blacked them out all together. So, it was up to her to use the old method. Sniff and search, Root had called it. The hound dog method.
Holly reached inside herself for her magic sight. That was simple enough – they'd learnt how to access it during Cadet training. It was one of those useless skills made redundant by technology, and was now taught almost only for traditional value. Once in a while, however, one of those 'useless skills' would come in handy when technology proved itself to be as temperamental as the centaur that created it. Like right now.
Very suddenly, she found it. She knew she'd found it courtesy of a jolt to the base of her skull. She couldn't feel anything for a while, except a prickling sensation. Slowly, she began to feel as if something bright was crackling just out of her peripheral vision. The sensation was roughly akin to the feeling one would get while facing forward and then having someone come up and stand directly behind you. You couldn't see them, but you could feel them there. This was the same sort of thing.
Holly fired up her wings again, trying to keep a grip on the direction of the 'feeling'. She hovered for a moment before inching forward. The sensation spun wildly, before settling in a different position.
There's a reason that technology made this sort of thing obsolete, thought Holly, pulling her fingers into a fist.
She moved cautiously toward this new location. When the sense didn't waver, she motored forward more boldly. It thrashed about like a rowboat in a hurricane, but eventually settled back into the same position.
Holly pointed her gaze at the source of the feeling. It seemed to be radiating from a space a few clicks to her left, and downward. Quite possibly in those caves, speculated Holly. Typical.
She pulsed the motor on the wing-set, until she was suspended above the water. She regarded the caves with reserved suspicion. They gaped at her from the dull rock face, dark eyes peering from a block of grey stone. There had to be at least fifteen, scattered unbiasedly on all heights all the way around the cliff face. Which was the one she needed?
She tried not to analyse it. Instinct was called for, not genius. Still, it was difficult to trust the fate of her search to something she had precisely no control over. Holly considered playing 'red stone, blue stone, yellow stone, shine' (the fairy version of enee-meanie-minee-moe) to decide, but dismissed it. It had never worked for her as a child and it had no reason to now.
Picking one cave at random, Holly manoeuvred the wings until she could drop unobstructed down onto the ledge jutting out from the cave opening. The sense was stronger here. It didn't automatically mean she'd chosen the right cave (it could have been the one to the left or right of this one, for all she knew), but at least it meant she was close. She could hazard her way through the maze of tunnels if she had to. If the tide didn't rise up and drown her before she got that far.
The cave itself was dark and gloomy, much like a cave should be. Glow worms hung off the ceiling, and rocks littered the floor. Further inside, it looked as if the cave narrowed into a passage – too small for a human, but probably fine for a fairy.
She headed towards it. As she ducked through the passage, she began to feel slightly clammy, and tight around the stomach. Holly clamped her imagination firmly with a mental block. She wasn't claustrophobic, and she wasn't going to fool herself into thinking that she was.
The feeling had just began to lessen when a blast of air whistled down the passage with the tormented sound Holly could only describe as from a wraith of death. It carried with it a stench so over-powering that Holly would have turned around had she been able to, but – although the passage was high enough – the added bulk of her wings made it nearly impossible to turn. Nor was there enough room to loosen the straps to remove them.
As she continued, the space tightened until she could barely fit through. In her pocket, her LEP radio buzzed. She pressed it up against the rock face, hoping to hit the right button.
'Recalling all personnel, all LEP personnel return to base imme–'
It cut out of range.
Grumbling, Holly edged her way forward, wishing she'd picked another cave. She covered her mouth and nose with her tunic, gulping in deep breaths of air. She tried not to think of the smell as she did so – it was as if something had been left to rot away in the blackness, as if the dark might mask it. Next time she'd listen when her stomach tried to tell her something. Maybe she had been better of with the nursery rhyme.
The passage widening now, but the smell didn't vanish. It was stronger than ever, even when she emerged into the cavernous space at the end of the passage. She looked around in the semi-darkness. It seemed as if the whole centre of the room had been raised into a platform. She wondered what kind of water erosion had caused such an unnatural looking structure.
Climbing up to get a closer look, Holly was reminded about the time limit on her mission. It was hard to find purchase on the smooth surface, which told her that a large amount of water would have had to gushed up here with some force. The fact that the cave wasn't flooded gave proof to her guess that the slope drained it back out again at low tide. Holly increased her pace; she didn't particularity want to hang around this particular cave, what with its ghostly wind and over-powering odour.
She ran her fingers across the ledge and over onto the flat, dusky stone. The incline ended with a sharp bevel, which made her wonder if maybe this place wasn't entirely carved from nature after all. Unless the water was enchanted, it was unlikely that it could have made such a distinct edge.
Occupied with her musings, Holly didn't notice the mound lying in front of her until a moment before she tripped over it. She flung her arms out to stop her fall, but it came anyway, sending her forward onto the cold stone. Her arms collapsed beneath her, forcing her head to impact painfully with the ground. Without thinking, Holly took a gasping breath, only to choke again on the fetid air. The world swam for a moment – from the knock to her head or the odour, she couldn't tell – but quickly regained focus.
It was then Holly realised she was lying eye to eye with a decaying skull.
-
Artemis stared intently at the television in front of him. A woman in a pinstripe suit dictated news of an earthquake in east Ireland. At that moment, however, Artemis wasn't interested in what she had to say. Something had caught his eye on the scrolling bar on the bottom edge of the screen.
Diamond relic found with remains of Egyptian guard.
His phone beeped, interrupting his thoughts. He felt blindly for it on the oak coffee table, his eyes never leaving the screen. Flipping the lid open, he made a perfunctory check of the number on screen. Butler, of course.
He held it to his ear. 'Hello?'
'Master Artemis, I have received another message from the man in Paris. He says that "the ice is in the freezer."' Artemis tapped his fingers on the phone impatiently. 'Does that make sense?'
'Perfect sense, Butler.' Artemis didn't want to hear about his diamond trade at the moment. His hand moved to the perspex container in his pocket. Exposed to the light, the metallic lens inside reflected a silver-white circle onto the ceiling. 'What about the man from Limerick? Did you question him?'
'Yes. He won't be bothering us again.' Another pause. Artemis gritted his teeth. 'Are you sure that was necessary, sir? He was a good contact – he wouldn't have lied to us … to you.'
'When did I give you leave to second-guess my orders?' Artemis gave a pause himself. 'I did not order those lenes.' I would not have forgotten.
Without waiting for an answer, he snapped the cover shut. Dropping the container on the table with his phone, Artemis lifted one hand to massage his temples. He shouldn't have to explain himself to his manservant. When his muscles had relaxed, he opened his eyes to regard the newsreader.
'This just in,' she said, her dull eyes alight with a sparkle for just a second. 'The diamond relic found in the apparently empty Egyptian pyramid has been bought for half a million pounds by a private collector.'
A tirade of images flashed onto the screen, all showing the diamond at various angles and proximities. Artemis appraised the stone with a professional interest. Quite good quality – excellent cut, no cloud. A little large for a diamond, which might mean fraud. A tiny catch, suitable for a chain to be threaded, crowned the gem's crest. It would take some expertise – and as such, money – to remove. It possessed a shade of pink to it. Argyle?
Despite the fact his observation was entirely unemotional, something about it seemed to draw Artemis in. Whether it was the reddish sheen that just caught the light, or the details in the planes and edges, or something else entirely, he couldn't be sure. Still, it was a feasible investment. Even if it wasn't a true diamond, being found in a tombless pyramid should add to the value for museum investors. People, he had come to realise, like mysteries.
When the piece was finished, the newswoman looked straight into the camera, her smile glinting with the sparkle of whitened teeth.
'These pictures were found in the cave where the explorers found the diamond – along with the corpse of the Egyptian guard who is possibly a pygmy.'
The first shot was nothing much of consequence; it depicted the decaying corpse of a man clearly not of Egyptian origin – the shoulder blades were too wide. And the cranium structure was all wrong. Artemis considered calling the archaeologist involved to inform him of his mistake, but the next frame shattered that impulse.
Artemis froze the screen. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and he sat forward, hands clutching at the Italian leather on the lounge chair. The shot was a sketch made with a primitive form of clay – but it was not the medium it was drawn in that concerned Artemis, but the subject.
It was a layered drawing. The first level depicted crude representations of mountains – acute and baseless triangles making a series of peaks. The next stratum consisted entirely of a thick line that Artemis decided was meant to be the earth's crust. The next layer – a smear of clay across the stone – was perhaps the mantle. Below this, a large oval encased a collection of domed and orthogonal buildings. An underground city. Tunnels shot of in many directions from the oval. These, Artemis decided, were pressurizes – perhaps entrances from the surface.
A city under the world's surface. The deranged imaginings of a condemned man, perhaps? Artemis considered it. It would explain the presence of a corpse with the drawings. It certainly lent more value to the stone.
He listened as the newsreader explained the Asian belief of sprites living in the earth. He knew this folklore well, and could point out errors in her narrative. The anchor then briefly crossed to a historian's rehashing of the Atlantis myth. After more images concerning the wall painting, the newsreader closed with an insipid remark about fairytale endings for the diamond's new owner.
Fairytales. Artemis couldn't help but feel unsettled. Something about that word unsettled him. Why? Had he missed something important?
After a moments thought, Artemis decided that any undue apprehension was probably caused by the upcoming sale of his most recent work – a forged portrait of an elfin maiden. With a minute shake of his head, Artemis dismissed the feeling. He didn't believe in omens. Best rely on things he could prove.
The news program ended with a slide show of the most valuable diamonds from around the world. Regarding each, Artemis came to realise that the Egyptian diamond could be a very good investment for his personal fortune. After all, it might yet turn out that the diamond was more than it appeared. Perhaps of major historical significance. If so, it was worth much more than €500 000, if he could find the right buyer – a major archaeological museum perhaps or even a private collector?
He thought quickly; with the success of the French diamond exchange he could afford a gamble. It would be a challenge. And he already had an inkling of who exactly had purchased the diamond.
Artemis opened his phone once more, and dialled a number. Three rings before it connected. Artemis negotiated, harassed and bribed his way through the network of secretaries and senior businessmen until he gained access to the line he wanted.
'Hello? Señor Jarven Scott? This is Artemis Fowl. – pause – Yes, the Second. I have an offer you may wish to consider…'
-
Holly didn't even bother to rise to her feet. She rolled sideways, managing to get onto her hands and knees before retching up her breakfast. After a moment of heavy breathing, and another chocking gasp, she hazarded another look at the body.
It was very decayed, despite that not much air could have gotten into this chamber. Not much bulk of flesh was left, except, unfortunately for her, around the eye sockets. Just thinking about it made bile rise in Holly's throat.
She clenched her fists, suddenly feeling weakened. She ran her tongue over dry lips, and tasted blood. Very carefully she ran her fingers over her forehead. She winced as they brushed against a gash on her temple. She helped the magic along with a gentle pulse.
As soon as the magic left her fingertips, Holly became aware of something radiating bluish light from on a pedestal in the centre of the platform. Holly crept forward, not wanting any more surprises.
She peered at the object on the plinth. She couldn't exactly see what it was through the hazy glow. She wondered if it was wise to touch it. But, she reasoned, if she didn't then she'd never be able to get it back to Haven. This had to be what was causing the ley-power. There was no point denying either the raised platform or the shining shell that the light created. A quick probe with her magic sight proved her theory.
She reached out to pick it up. The moment her fingertip touched it, the glow-light flared up, illuminating the cave's pale walls, blinding her. Just as the light became unbearable, the flash ebbed.
Holly blinked rapidly, rubbing her watery eyes. When her vision cleared a second time, she looked at the spot from where the light had erupted.
It was a diamond. A Stone – an ancient and precious gem that an Old Mage had gifted with magic.
It lay in a tiny groove obviously meant for that purpose – it fit perfectly. There was even a matching notch in the rock for its golden catch. It was exquisite. Holly knew. Her grandfather had been obsessed by diamonds, and, in her youth, Holly had absorbed some of his enthusiasm. They'd hid their discoveries from her grandmother and mum. It had been like a big game for her younger self – even if she had never really understood why they always did most of their research in the shed outside and always she was always shushed when she tried to share their findings. Holly had learnt later that although it was perfectly understandable to be in thrall of gold, it seemed that it wasn't nearly acceptable to be in such awe with diamonds. This one was a D – a near-perfect diamond.
She resisted the instinct to take a deep breath before she picked the Stone up; she'd had more than she could handle of that death stench. As she held it pensively in her hand, Holly wondered if it was right to take it. It seemed so pure … maybe it would be better if she left it there. To say she'd found nothing … or that she'd just lost it.
That's impossible! Her reason interrupted forcefully. I can hardly explain that I 'just lost' one of the most powerful artefacts in modern history!
Holly jerked her hand away from the pedestal decisively. If only she had a leather thong, she'd be able to thread it around her neck. She checked her watch absently, then gasped – and choked – again. It had stopped. She tapped it, then zapped it with her magic, as if a supernatural remedy for flesh could work on a machine. The second counter remained firmly at thirteen.
Out of the corner of her eye, Holly noticed that the gem had started glowing again. Activated by magic perhaps? She imagined, with some satisfaction, Foaly's eye bugging out of his skull as he watched the magic-meter on the power-chart bounce to new heights.
The sick feeling returned in her stomach. Thinking of skulls, Holly decided she should get away from the one causing that smell. Ignoring the nausea as best she could, Holly unstrapped her wings and headed quickly back down the tunnel.
Once outside, she looked up to the dark sky and took several deep breaths. As the sickness in her abdomen faded, she kept looking up. The stars shone brightly – she picked out one of her favourite constellations just rising off the horizon – and the moonlight flooded the cove, drowning the now gentle light coming from the gem.
The moon! Holly looked down at the level of the sea. It seemed to have dropped. Her gaze was drawn into the tumultuous sea churning beneath her. It was whisper quiet, but, should she fall into it, deadly. But it was at least ten feet beneath her…
The caves don't flood. So much for her platform explanation.
She glanced at the diamond. It seemed unassuming enough to the untrained eye. Just like any other diamond. But the cut was impeccable, and the stone was the clearest she'd seen, despite a yellowish tint.
And that feeling she'd had. To leave it alone… Something was going on. This gem was obviously valuable. It radiated archaic magic. It had been mounted on a dais for Frond's sake! Why hadn't anyone heard of it? Why had it gone unnoticed for so long?
She tried not to think about it. Surely by the time she got back to the Ops Booth, Foaly would have gotten all the information from his personal search-sweepers. Then they'd have some idea of its origins, and know why no one had discovered it before they had. Having justified it for the time being, Holly turned her thoughts away. She'd never believed in worrying about the future too much. The present was always enough to deal with.
She drew her attention back to the sky-scape. She mentally drew lines between more constellations. The Centaur, the Pixie and the Goblin, the Dé Danann Prince, the Eternal Dragon…She caught herself wishing that she could become human just to see these stars everyday.
The thought was still echoing inside her mind when the world went black before her eyes.
A/N: Sorry for the long chapter. I'm almost sure they get shorter than this. But I have to line up the dominoes to let them fall/obscureVforVendettareference. Reviews appreciated! Please and thank you?
